The Martian Lie

Interludes

Interludes

I – The Mistress' Betrayal

She couldn't stand that worthless lout. He was pathetic. How he had fallen for her hook, line, and sinker. It was all too easy. She - the young, pretty thing - only had to compliment him - the old, egotistical thing - and he was putty in her hands. What a cliche.

But if she were a true cliche, she wouldn't exploit him. She would just continue to live as his mistress. The Supply Chief's mistress wasn't a horrible lot in life. A lot better than marrying a coal miner just like her father. She didn't have a problem with her father, but she certainly didn't want to marry a man like him. So she had set her sights on Roark, and she'd gotten what she wanted.

Only, it turned out that once she had him, she didn't want him at all. He disgusted her. At first, she had wanted to be a part of the power he wielded. She found his power intoxicating. She didn't mind that he wasn't conventionally handsome to look at, because his looks weren't the source of his charisma anyway. It was his power.

Then, she had gotten to know him. It was funny how once she realized he was a conniving, ruthless man - made worse by the fact that he truly didn't believe himself to be conniving and ruthless - and fell out of infatuation with him, that he became truly infatuated with her. He had even spouted off the l-word from time to time, late at night. It was the oldest rule of love - the less you cared for the person, the more they would become infatuated with you. It's not that she hadn't loved him at first; it was simply that as she realized how much she would have to grovel and bend herself to be with him, her love became double-edged with hate.

Because now she knew the truth about him. So steadfast and sure in his assessment that she would never betray him, would always cater to his every whim and warm his bed, that he told her everything.

She and Bell. His two most trusted confidants. Only, Bell really was loyal, and she was not.

She knew about the payload. She was sure there were others who knew about the payload. In fact, she was sure that the man she was about to tell about it, Jordan Spencer, probably already knew about it anyway. It had taken much convincing of his underlings to get this meeting. But, she was known in certain circles as Roark's mistress, and that gave her just enough pull to demand a face-to-face conversation with the enemy.

She was certain she wasn't being followed. She had feigned illness, homesickness, and a need to get away from the parties held nightly at Roark's mansion. He hadn't wanted to let her go, but he had. She had truly gone home. She had been there for days. Long enough that anyone who even suspected her of ulterior motives would have given up. There were bigger fish to fry. Jordan Spencer being one of them.

Jordan was sending his son Richard to meet her. That was the deal. She could be on a suicide mission and he was simply too important to sacrifice himself if it came to that. She thought she'd heard they'd had a family falling out long ago, but apparently they had kissed and made up if the son was so willing to put himself in the lion's den for his father. She was to meet him at a commonplace tavern near her parents' home in Montana. It was even one that she used to frequent in her earlier days, so it wouldn't seem strange that she was there. She imagined he would pose as a mineworker passing through. No one would be the wiser that this meeting ever occurred.

She sat in a dimly lit booth in the back and ordered water. Best to keep a clear head. She waited.

The bells on the tavern door tinkled as a new patron came in. She recognized him immediately. Two coughs and spill your drink by accident. She gave the signal.