Killing Eva (23 page)

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Authors: Alex Blackmore

BOOK: Killing Eva
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THIRTY

Once again Eva
found herself staring at Irene as the two sat side by side in the front of the van Irene was driving along the motorway in the dark. She had a strong profile, delicate nose but hard cheekbones, and there was a slight sag in the skin under her chin. Despite this, Irene's face displayed no weakness, not even side on. It was an impressive degree of control and if it wasn't for the suspicion Eva felt towards someone so adept at disguise and untruth, she may well have had great respect for her.

She looked away, leaned her head against the headrest and shut her eyes.

They had left the driver behind at the site of the car crash, along with a selection of clean up tools, and – Eva had noted – a small arsenal of weapons. Eva could not help noticing the wary way he regarded her when she finally stopped attacking the corpse by the car.

Her brother. And yet not.

She still could not make sense of what had happened. He had looked, even sounded, like Jackson. And yet there had been a moment in the car when his face had changed – physically changed from one person to someone completely different. But how was that possible? It wasn't.

Eva remembered the red-haired woman in the château she had mistaken for Jackson's ex-girlfriend, Valerie. Why was she hallucinating these people? Was this connected to recent events and, if so, how much? Most of all she wanted to know why,
why
was this all happening.

She thought back to the conversations she'd had with ‘Jackson' during the last 24 hours but they were difficult to remember. Had she instinctively known he was not her brother? The only moment she could recall her suspicions was in the back room of the restaurant when she had caught him looking at her – appraisingly, appreciative. It had been confusing at the time but, clearly, her own sibling would never have regarded her like that.

So, who was that man and why – and how – had he done what he had?

She had a thousand questions but she was also exhausted.

‘What did you mean back there, Eva, when you said “it's not him?” '

‘What?'

Eva was surprised to realise she had been about to fall asleep.

‘You said “it wasn't him”. And then you attacked him. What did he do to you while he held you captive?'

‘Captive?'

That face flashed again in front of Eva's eyes – rough skin, heavy jowels and light, watery blue eyes, not at all her once much loved sibling.

Should she tell Irene?

‘I don't understand what happened back in Berlin,' she said, changing the subject.

‘In what way?'

‘Do you know who these people are – do you know about the château?'

‘We did track you there, yes, but I'd like to make clear it took us a while to find you.' Irene glanced at Eva's covered forearms. ‘If we had known where you were, we would have removed you immediately.'

‘Why didn't you know?'

Irene seemed to hesitate. ‘Someone made a mistake.'

‘I thought the house in Berlin was meant to be safe?'

‘Mistakes happen.'

It was an unsatisfactory answer but neither knew how much one owed the other or where the boundaries of their commitment lay. There was no contract, no agreed terms.

An awkward silence fell, as Irene crunched the van's gears.

‘Do you know what has happened to me over the past week?'

‘No. Tell me.'

‘I can't.'

‘I don't understand.'

Eva turned to Irene in the darkness of the van. ‘I can't tell you because I don't know. I have no memories.' She paused before she spoke again. ‘Ninety per cent of me doesn't even care. And ten per cent… well that part feels… crazy… like back there,' she said, indicating with her hand the direction behind them where her attack on the corpse had taken place. ‘It's the strangest thing.'

Irene looked over at her briefly, then back at the road.

‘How do you feel now?'

‘Confused, uncomfortable,' Eva said, pointing to her forearms, ‘but calm. Occasionally afraid of all the missing time and what it might mean. But not as much as I feel I should be. That's not how I would normally react.'

‘No.'

After several minutes of silence, Eva started to speak again. ‘Do you think they could have done something to me – permanently altered something inside?'

‘I really don't know, Eva,' Irene lied.

‘Why was I even there?'

‘Again, I'm sorry but I just don't know.'

‘Do you know
anything
?'

Irene ignored the aggression.

‘I can tell you the man you were with works for an illegal cartel, financial terrorists.'

‘Financial terrorists.' Eva almost laughed out loud.

‘Yes.'

‘That sounds like tabloid scaremongering.'

‘It's not a laughing matter.'

‘What does it mean?'

‘A group using violence, intimidation and manipulation for the pursuit of economic aims, rather than those that are purely political.'

Irene waited for Eva's reaction as she described the real ACORN. She had no idea who that man actually worked for but it would be interesting to see Eva's reaction to what she was about to say.

‘I don't think I understand.'

‘They don't want to kill people to make a political point. They have no particular manifesto. They are focused purely on achieving aims to provide them with economic power and influence. It's much more subtle.'

‘Why call them terrorists, aren't they just criminals?'

‘They are organised in the same way as, say, Al Qaida or IS, they have cells all over the world. Their network is not large but it's almost impossible to expose the people who are involved because they are so well protected and well trained; some are even part of the establishment. Many are simply temporarily attached,' she said. ‘Either they make a bargain for cash, for favours, or because they are being blackmailed.'

Irene stopped talking. She realised she couldn't help giving Eva this information. Yes, the context was a lie in that she did not have the degree of separation from ACORN she implied, but still it was information that could change things for Eva. Whether it would clarify or confuse depended on how much they had broken Eva. What Irene couldn't work out was whether she just enjoyed toying with the younger woman or if she was trying to surreptitiously confess to soothe her guilt for what was about to happen.

‘Simply because of the number of unknowns they are a bigger threat than your average criminal.'

‘But, no suicide bombers?'

‘No. Their work is far more delicate than death.'

‘What is it they're trying to achieve – I can't imagine what would tie all this together?'

‘We don't know.'

Irene hoped the lie would work. She had no idea who Eva had spent the last 24 hours with but attributing his actions to ACORN's might help Eva to believe that Irene was still her only ally. Eva would not know Irene's connection to them until it was too late.

Eva was quiet for several seconds before she replied. ‘You don't know or you won't tell me?'

Silence. Irene knew if she went too far, provided too much, Eva would be suspicious. She had to continue the same pattern with her.

‘So what's the link with me?'

‘Again, we don't know.'

‘Right.'

‘But the likelihood is this has somehow originated from Jackson.' Irene needed to know whether anything had been said to Eva about her brother.

Eva felt her body begin to tense.

‘From Jackson?'

‘Yes.'

‘Why would there be a link to Jackson from these people?'

‘It's difficult to understand at the moment, for us too, but it seems he may have become involved with them in Paris. In what context, we don't know.'

‘Do you think he ever switched sides?'

‘To be honest, Eva, anything is possible.'

Eva stared at the road ahead and wondered whether she should tell Irene what she had seen – the man's face changing from one identity to another.

‘They are incredibly well resourced,' continued the older woman, ‘with more wealth and connections at their fingertips than you could possibly imagine. They could have offered Jackson anything – more money than he could ever spend or even a complete change of identity.'

‘A change of identity, how?'

‘We know science is one of their most coveted weapons. They have the most innovative and advanced science on the planet at their fingertips. All the philanthropic advances of mankind are available, at a price, to the highest bidder.'

Eva couldn't help but pick up on the jaded note in Irene's voice.

‘One of their developmental areas has been improving the way they provide security to members of their organisation – through disguise. They could completely change his face and body, erase the Jackson you knew.'

‘Could they do it the other way around?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Could they make someone else look like him?'

‘I don't really know, Eva, but I imagine it would be possible. Although it would presumably be very difficult if the face was going to be exposed to anyone who really knew him.'

Eva was silent.

‘Why do you ask? Did you see him?'

Eva looked at Irene in response to the direct question. Did Irene know what might have happened?

‘I… I am not sure.'

‘Are you sure it wasn't actually him?'

‘One hundred per cent.'

‘Where did you see him? At the château?'

Eva took a deep breath. ‘Irene, I thought the man driving the car I was in was Jackson.'

This time it was Irene's turn to stay silent.

‘He looked just like him.'

Eva felt Irene glance over at her.

‘At least, he did – earlier. By the time you arrived, it clearly wasn't him.'

‘I'm not sure I understand, Eva. Are you saying you thought that man was Jackson, or aren't you?'

‘He looked like him, Irene. For a day he looked so like Jackson I believed it was him. But his face changed.'

‘Changed, how?'

‘Kind of morphed. Like a TV losing signal.'

‘And then what happened?'

‘He didn't look like Jackson anymore.'

‘I don't think I understand.'

‘Neither do I, I'm just telling you what happened.' Eva exhaled to try and release the anger. ‘I suppose the other possibility is I've lost the plot and am going mad.'

‘It's always a possibility.'

‘Do you think so?'

‘It's always possible.'

‘No, I mean do you think somehow they could have altered his face to make him look like Jackson, just temporarily? You said yourself they have huge resources at their disposal and employ many scientists.'

‘Anything is possible.'

‘Possible', that word again. Irene had said it three times in a matter of seconds. Which had irritated Eva beyond belief. They continued to drive in silence. Eva unconsciously lifted her hand to her head, which ached with the weight of all the questions.

She shut her eyes.

Instantly, she saw in her mind the card falling from the wallet of the now dead faux Jackson in the car.

It was a design she had seen before and a word had rung a bell – Veritas. But at that moment she could do nothing other than register it as another potential connection. Something to try and work out when her head was less heavy.

As the motion of the driving and the warmth of the car gradually took over, Eva fell asleep.

VERITAS. Both men looked at the word as it appeared, disappeared and reappeared on the tiny metal key.

Paul enjoyed the way the other man seemed almost reverent of what he held in his hands. And so he should be. It was one of the greatest pieces of innovation the world had seen recently. Except the world had not seen it, as it remained a secret.

Did he feel guilty he had not developed the technology himself, that he had stolen it?

Of course not. Besides, he almost felt as if he
had
developed it himself now.

In the same way he felt no guilt for having profited from the face mapping technology – although that had proven far less effective in the various encounters in which it had been used so far.

It too, had been stolen – by the man who now sat in the seat opposite.

Joseph Smith fascinated Paul. He had done from the moment he had met him. He was the kind of man Paul felt he understood completely. Smith never formed attachments, never trusted anyone, would always be available to the highest bidder and was driven reliably by profit, whether financially or power motivated.

Paul realised the other man was looking at him. ‘What is it for?'

‘It's a key.'

‘But there is no lock, is there?'

‘Not physically, no.'

‘So, what does it do?'

Paul had been given strict instructions not to share the nature of the invention with Smith. Those who had engaged Smith knew nothing of the experience he and Paul had of working together or Smith wouldn't be here. Smith was one of the ‘teams' Paul had been told to keep separate from the others, and he presumed that also meant from himself. From experience, Paul knew Smith often felt belittled, talked down to or patronised by those who engaged his services. He saw being honest as a way of forming a bond with Smith, just in case he needed him.

It was possible he was making a mistake. And, in many ways, it went against much of what Paul knew about Smith. But he did it anyway.

‘It unlocks a system.'

‘What kind of system?'

‘A financial system.'

Smith looked puzzled. Paul wondered whether that was genuine. For a split second, he tried to work out just how much of this Smith already knew.

‘How can it unlock a financial system?'

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