Disclaimer and Notes
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Raye arrived back at her apartment after work with a stack of important papers in her briefcase. With the help of her fellow agent Amy Anderson, hacker extraordinaire, she had managed to acquire a lot of information on Saffir. Now, it was necessary to get her partner and figure out the information. And prevent Saffir's next attack, as soon as they'd figured out when and where that would be.
At that moment, her phone rang. "Hello, who's this?"
"Is that you, Miss Warrington? This is James Byrne."
"Call me Raye. I detest being called Miss Warrington. So what's the plan for tonight?"
"Your call." James was relieved. Raye Warrington sounded slightly less cranky now than in the morning when she had nearly bitten his head off. "What would you like to do?"
"Hmm, we should go somewhere where I know we won't be disturbed, we do have business to discuss, after all." She thought for a moment, then smiled. "I have it. There's this place I know of in town. I know the owner. It's a very high class establishment, so dress really nice. A bit pricey, but it's no big deal. Let me make a few phone calls, and then, you can come over at 6:30. My address is 50000 King Street, Apt. 1210. I will see you in an hour."
"Sounds fine to me, see you then." James hung up. A shower was necessary. Then, to locate a tuxedo...
~ ~ ~
"Silver Elegance limo service, how may I help you?"
"Hi, I would like to order a two-person limo. White." Raye calmly listed the details, then waited for the usual refusal.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we cannot do this on such short notice."
Raye dropped the bomb in a silken, imperious voice. "My name is Raye Warrington." An audible gasp could be heard on the other end of the line. "Now, I want that limo at 50000 King Street in an hour. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Miss Warrington, of course."
"Thank you." Raye hung up. 'Subservient brown-nosing gold-diggers...' Raye was the daughter of a former Secretary of State and a former supermodel. She had grown up in the lap of luxury and publicity, and hated it. When she had been discovered by Luna, she had almost cried with relief. Almost. Raye never cried. But still, being the daughter of Louis Warrington III and Marguerite Seymour had its benefits. People listened and obeyed. And, even though she had had cut ties with them long ago, they had made sure that she always had a nauseating amount of money. Raye took a quick shower and searched her wardrobe. She extracted a short cerise silk dress that had a fringe of jet beads at the bodice, a limited edition Vera Wang, and a pair of matching red high-heeled sandals. A black beaded purse with a wallet, her keys, and her gun. Ruby and black pearl earrings and a matching choker. She put on some makeup and a spray of Chanel No. 5. She was ready. With the papers in a briefcase, she waited for her partner to show up.
James took the elevator to the penthouse floor of the apartment building. 'Hmm...rich girl. Let's hope that she's not a totally vapid snob.' He found Apartment 1210, and knocked. The door opened, and his mouth went dry and his jaw dropped. Red was DEFINITELY her color.
Raye looked at him, half in amusement, half in admiration. He looked nice in a tux. "I'll take that as a compliment. Now let's get going." She grabbed her briefcase and purse, and beckoned him to follow her out.
Their limo was waiting outside. 'Holy shit'. Raye gave some instructions to the limo driver, and climbed inside. James followed her, trying not to stare at her legs as she stepped in daintily. When the door had shut behind him, she faced him.
"We're going to the Ruby Millennium. Have you ever heard of it?" She asked.
He nodded, dazed. "That's the place that practically only caters to CEOs, politicians and celebrities though..."
She winked mischievously. "Exactly. They have private dining rooms. Oh, and excellent seafood and champagne."
"But...we're not...they'll never let us in without a reservation and a million dollars."
Raye smiled serenely. "Oh, they will let us in. You'll see."
They arrived at the restaurant in question. It was by the water, and had a gleaming fountain at the front. Raye got out of their limo, and casually handed the driver a $50 dollar bill, then told him to come pick them up at midnight. She then confidently strode up to the tuxedo-clad maitre d', James at her heels.
The maitre d' looked at them snootily. "Who, may I ask, are you? Do you have a reservation?"
Raye met his gaze unflinchingly. "No. We would like a private room on the top floor."
The maitre d' looked at her with a mix of astonished indignation and pure snobbishness. "My dear young lady, the Ruby Millennium does NOT just allow anyone to get a private room, especially not on the top floor, and ESPECIALLY without a reservation made at least 3 days in advance." Raye met his icy look with one of her own, a challenge in her smoky purple eyes.
"Is that so? Ask your owner Mr. Carmichael if it is ever a problem to give Raye Warrington a private room. He used to be our personal chef."
The maitre d' looked stunned. "R-Raye Warrington?"
Raye nodded slowly, a slightly mocking smile on her face. "Go on, ask Mr. Carmichael."
The maitre d' scurried off, then returned a few minutes later, looking slightly whipped. "My sincerest apologies, Miss Warrington, please follow me." He led them to a private dining room with a table for two with a black vase filled with red roses for a centerpiece. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. A waiter came in, and handed them menus.
"I'll have the caviar sampler for appetizer, chicken caesar salad, go light on the dressing, some lobster bisque, your Sole fillet with Cointreau, and champagne. James, what would you like?"
"Er, I'll have some stuffed mushrooms, Greek salad, clam chowder, and chicken with fennel, and champagne, please."
"Right away." The waiter exited. James turned to Raye. "How did you do that?"
"Do what? Get us in? Easy enough." Raye shrugged. "As much as I hate it, being the daughter of a politician and a former supermodel has its perks. I don't usually advertise it, but that's how it is. People who hear my name usually cringe in fear, then start kissing my ass." She rolled her eyes. "At times, beneficial though this may be, I wish I was born a nobody from nowhere. Then, people would actually maybe see me, not the snotty little rich girl."
James quirked an eyebrow. "I see. Well, when I was young, I wished nothing more than to be rich. My dad died when I was one, my mom...well, I can see that we grew up in different backgrounds. But we're on the same ground now."
"Yeah." Raye nodded. He wasn't that bad after all. "Anyways, I did some homework this afternoon with the help of my friend Amy, she's one helluva good hacker. This is what I was able to find." She pulled out her briefcase and opened it up. "About Saffir: He is actually a man by the name of Stephan Black, age 31, with mean hacking skills and a skill for making difficult-to-defuse bombs. A most unpleasant individual, all in all. I have also gotten copies of all his past threats and letters, and have read them through. Unfortunately, their diction is really vague and I can't really make heads or tales out of them reading them. However, Amy had also hacked into his personal accounts, and had found out something rather noteworthy and highly disturbing. On many of the more suspicious correspondence, there is always be a most remarkable letterhead on the top." She showed it to James, who looked at it closely, with a slight frown. A letterhead that consisted of a coal-black, upside down crescent moon. She continued on, pointing to the letterhead with one red nail. "Nothing particularly disturbing about that in itself, but it just so happened that Mina and Kevin's latest target, Estrellita Noir, also known as Esmeraude, not only also used that same letterhead, but even had that symbol tattooed on the nape of her neck. There's got to be a connection here somehow. I mean, look, their codenames: Saffir, for Sapphire. Esmeraude, for Emerald. Both gemstones. Plus, they both use this symbol. A black moon. Hmm...." Suddenly, she paled. "Oh my God...oh my God...Black Moon..."
James' eyes widened in comprehension. "You don't suppose that...that they're part of the Black Moon? That...they're working for Demando?"
Raye nodded weakly. "That's exactly what I suppose. Shit, that makes our lives much more miserable. This means that Saffir is not working alone. He's got a bunch of assassins working for him. Wonderful, just wonderful..." She let out a little moan. "I have a distinct feeling that this will end really ugly. 'Independence Day' alien ugly. Horror movie ugly. My former finshing school headmistress ugly."
'You and your uncaffeinated self this morning ugly.' James thought to himself. Their food had arrived. As he nibbled absently at his salad, he read through the latest threat that Saffir had sent. "When good is hungry, it seeks food, even in dark caves, and when it thirsts, it drinks even of dead waters." His brow furrowed in deep thought. "Wait! What did his last threat say?" Raye, confused, handed him another letter. He read it through carefully.
"Those who work with their minds rule others; those who work with their strength are ruled by others. Those who are ruled by others support them; those who rule others are supported by them. This is a principle universally accepted." James looked it over briefly, "And the one before that?" Raye handed another letter to him.
"We may lay it down that Pleasure is a movement, a movement by which the sould as a whole is consciously brought into its normal state of being, and that Pain is the opposite."
James sat silently for a moment, then said, "The last place he bombed was the home of the American ambassador to China. The one before that, the Greek ambassador. He targets ambassadors."
Raye nodded, "Yes, but his threats don't really tell you anything. They're just random sayings."
"No, they're not." James said decisively. "His last threat was a quote from Mencius. CHINESE philosopher. The second to last was a quote from Aristotle. GREEK philosopher. This latest was a quote from Kahlil Gibran. A poet-philosopher from Lebanon. Notice a pattern? I think I know who the next target is." James' face was grim. "We need to get the Lebanese ambassador out of here."
Raye frowned. "That's a cute idea, but it wouldn't work. We try to get him out, Saffir is just going to bomb his plane."
James paused, "True enough. Then what do we do?"
Raye thought for a moment. "I think that it will be necessary to use my 'influence' again. I think that we may need to have a rather extended visit with the ambassador. I'll put in a call tomorrow morning."
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