VESPER Ch. 01

It was pouring rain, but Vesper didn't mind. In fact, she kind of relished it. She liked the thrill of clinging to the crevices of a slick brick wall, working her way up one windowsill at a time, never thinking about the growing way down. Only the shrinking distance up. She was seventeen stories above the trash-and-puddle filled alley now. Eight more to go.

She hauled herself up onto another sill, balanced on the two-foot ledge above a fatal drop, and languidly unwound, stretching upward to reach the next. Her thin black shoes found purchase in the wall. A few minutes later, she was rolling out onto the roof. Made it.

She allowed herself to bask in victory for one moment. Then it was back to business. She grabbed the slack cord around her waist and used it to drag up the waterproof duffel she'd left in the alley below. Then she stepped out to the very edge of the building. Across the street loomed the Carter Hotel, where the annual Carter Family Ball was currently in full swing. She hadn't been invited, but she'd decided to crash the party anyway.

She secured one end of the cord to a pole on the ceiling and flung the other end across the street with a grapple on the end. It smashed through a darkened window and the grapple held. She tested the rope. Firm. Perfect.

She hefted the duffel, aimed it carefully, and lobbed it out into the air. It flew through the window, much to her relief. She wouldn't have relished the long trip back to street level to retrieve it.

Now for the tricky part. She flexed her toes a few times and stepped out onto the cord.

Every time she did this it brought her back to the circus, that first day on the tightrope, standing too far above the ground, terrified in spite of the safety net. She'd fallen a few times, learning, but sooner or later you had to learn not to fall. When you were performing there was no net. Falling was not an option. Not even once. No mistakes.

This was a performance.

Moments later she dropped through the window into a darkened apartment. This would be room 25A, which she'd already ascertained was uninhabited at the moment. She scooped up the duffel, made her way into the bathroom, switched on the light and closed the door. No need to risk someone noticing.

She quickly stripped off her soaked jeans and T-shirt. She grabbed a towel, dried herself off. Pulled off the black skullcap and let her curly blonde hair fall out. She opened the duffel and pulled out a small red dress, garters, and a pair of heels, which she slipped into. She took two more minutes to fix her hair and apply some makeup.

Complete transformation.

The last item in the bag was a butterfly knife. She slipped it into her garter.

She stuffed her wet clothes into the duffel, dumped it in the bathtub and closed the curtain. Time to join the party.

Vesper rolled in suavely through the main entrance, not giving the guards a second glance. They didn't give her one either. She was clearly a guest, clearly harmless. It was a beautiful disguise.

She stopped near the entrance and scanned the room. The crowd was slightly overwhelming. Searching for a single person in this human miasma could be a monolithic task.

Well, maybe they'd bump into each other.

Vesper strolled into the crowd, casually nodding hellos, careful not to be dragged into any conversations. With luck, she wouldn't meet anyone she knew.

"Vesper! Hey, Vesper! Is that you?"

Shit. Madeleine.

"Hey, Madeleine," said Vesper, closing her eyes and praying that the bitch would die of a spontaneous heart attack.

"Vesper, I didn't know you were here!" said Madeleine. "I thought Mr Carter disowned you!"

"Invited anyway," said Vesper. "Salt in the wound, I guess. Is Adam around?"

"Adam's just dying to see you!" Madeleine put a hand over her mouth. "My God, Vesper, you never called, you never said anything! He's been so worried. I mean, it's not like he disowned you! He's your brother!"

"I know, I know," said Vesper. "I've been busy. Do you know where he is?"

"Near the band," said Madeleine, pointing. "Talking to Mr Carter. Oh. Maybe you don't want to talk to Mr Carter."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

"I mean, he invited you, right? That has to mean something. Like maybe this is his way of extending the olive branch. It might be the only way he knows to reach you."

"Parties," said Vesper. "My favourite thing. Thanks, Madeleine. See you later."

She was already walking. Now that she had him in her sights, the universe had slid into slow motion. She surveyed the room. He was standing facing the band, his back turned to her. Hadn't seen her yet. Area around him clear of people. Perfect. Her eyes swivelled to the left. Large window. Heavy potted plant sitting nearby. What side of the building was that? East side, twentieth floor. Narrow alley, building across the street had a fire escape. Security? Two goons hovering nearby. Not close enough to make a difference. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

She scooped a wine glass off a tray with her left hand, never breaking step. Took a sip without tasting it. She was so close to the moment she'd envisioned for ten years. Who fantasized about murder as a twelve-year-old girl? It was fucked up. But her whole life had been fucked up. This made it all worth it. Even if it was the last thing she ever did right.

And it wouldn't be.

Ten steps away, she lifted up her dress and got the butterfly knife out with her right hand. Back still to her. She flipped the knife open behind her back, the wine glass still in her left hand. Mark was ranting at some unfamiliar Asian girl, his face red. Rick standing by with his arms folded. Five steps. Four. Three. Two.

Mark glanced up and saw her just as she brought the knife down, through Adam's ribcage and directly into his heart, shoving him forward into the band, the sudden screech of violins as a corpse landed on the musicians. The Asian girl screamed. Mark staggered back in disbelief. Vesper dropped the wine glass with a crash and ran, kicking off her heels.

It took the goons one second of shock to spring into action. Poorly trained, she thought dispassionately. She was already halfway to the window. She scooped up the potted plant and lobbed it. The window shattered, the pot flew through. People were screaming, trying to run nowhere in particular. Vesper sprinted and dove through the window, hung out in space for a heart-lurching moment, crashed into the fire escape on the fire side of the alley and hung on. Someone fired a shot through the window. She dropped one storey and grabbed the fire escape again. Drop, grab, drop, grab. Fucking hard on the arms. Five stories down she climbed up over the railing and took the steps. Shots ricocheted off the brickwork, but the goons had already given up on her. They might try to catch her in the street. She was too fast for that.

Six stories up, she jumped and landed in a dumpster, cushioning the fall with wet trash. Not the most elegant escape route - the dress might not be salvageable. She hauled herself out and ran barefoot out of the alley, across the street, and into the far alley where her car was parked. A moment later she was peeling away, splashing up puddles. They would never catch her now.

*

Vesper parked the car outside a hotel and punched a button on her cell phone.

"Hong," she said. "He's dead."

"Sure of it?" came Hong's voice.

"Stabbed him in the heart. No question."

"Come see me tomorrow evening," he said. "Don't go back to your apartment."

"I'm not stupid."

"I'll be staying with Vincent. Be there at seven. Don't be late."

"Are you going to say thank you?"

"Thank you," said Hong.

He sounded sincere.

She hung up.

She'd left an extra suit of clothes in the car. She climbed into the back seat, stripped off the ruined dress and pulled them on. Not much she could do about the smell until she got to a bathroom.

She grabbed her purse from under the seat and went into the hotel.

Vesper woke up and was momentarily bemused to find herself lying in a cheap hotel bed. Then she remembered last night.

She smiled gleefully at the memory.

A knock at the door brought her back to reality. 5:30 in the morning? Who would bang on her door this early? Who even knew she was staying here?

Shit.

She lay frozen in bed for a moment. She had no plan for this contingency. They weren't supposed to find her for a day. One day, and then she could get to Hong and be safe. It had been seven hours since she killed her brother. Seven hours and they had already found her. How?

The knock came again.

She rolled out of bed. First things first. She couldn't make an escape in panties and her undershirt. She had dumped her clothes near the bed somewhere, but she couldn't see them in the dark. Switch on a light? The door was locked, after all. How long before they tried breaking it down?

Had she pulled the latch? Her heart leaped into her mouth. They'd have a key from the front desk. They could just walk in at any second. She ran to the door and felt for the latch. It was in place. Phew.

Knock, knock.

"Open up!" shouted a harsh male voice from outside. "We know you're in there!"

Fuck. She had to move fast. Clothes, then window. She was only on the second floor. She could jump that. Easily. She flipped on the light.

The door unlocked and jerked open half an inch. Thank God for that latch.

"You can't get away from us, bitch!" the voice roared. No time for clothes. She ran to the window. Locked shut. She felt feverishly for the switch. Flipped it. Someone slammed into the door. Once. Twice. The window opened with a jerk. She pulled herself through and dropped down to the street.

She landed right at the feet of a massive goon in a black vest. Of course they would be waiting outside, too.

She kneed him in the groin. He didn't even flinch. Just grabbed her arm as she tried to run. A moment later she got a fist to the back of the head. Went down on the wet asphalt. Stumbled back up, gritting her teeth. The goon grabbed her wrists and yanked them behind her back. She shouted helplessly as the cuffs went on.

"At least let me get dressed, asshole!" she shouted as he shoved her into the backseat of a black van. The door slammed shut. She was sandwiched between two piles of black leather and muscle.

The van peeled away. "We got her," the driver growled into a mic.

"Who the fuck are you?" she shouted. "Let me the fuck out of here! What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

The goons didn't even look at her.

She looked out the tinted windows, trying to figure out where they were going. Wherever it was, they were going there dangerously fast. Red lights streaked by in a blur. A few cars honked.

She really wished she'd taken the time to get her clothes on.

The van stopped on the outskirts of town in a large empty lot. There was a sleek silver sedan parked in the centre.

The goons opened the door, dragged her out, and shoved her on her knees. She looked up grimly as the sedan door opened.

A young woman got out, a woman wearing a pink ribbon in her hair, a brown leather dog collar on her neck, and absolutely nothing else. She unfolded a big black umbrella and held it up authoritatively.

Behind her came a man in a white suit and a black tie, a perfectly cut goatee on his chin, a faint smile on his lips. He looked disapprovingly at the sky, then down at Vesper, kneeling on the asphalt in her underwear in the pouring rain.

"Good morning," he said kindly.

"Mr John Blight," she said through gritted teeth. "To what do I owe the fucking pleasure?"

Blight wiggled his fingers imperiously. Another naked girl stepped out of the car with a pack of cigarettes. She placed one in his mouth and lit it.

Blight took his time drawing in a breath and blowing out smoke.

"Vesper Carter," he said. "You killed your brother Adam last night."

"Could we talk about this somewhere else?" she snarled.

"Certainly," he said. "Let's go to my place, shall we? In a moment. First I would like you to answer a few questions."

"I'm not going to tell you anything, you fucker. Let me out of these handcuffs and give me a fucking T-shirt or something."

Blight shook his head.

"You've always had an attitude problem, Vesper," he said. "Sometimes it's endearing. Now, it's just obstructive. I have a lot of respect for you, Vesper. You did a good thing last night. The question is - who for?"

"Myself."

"Not likely. Oh, I'm sure there were personal reasons. But Vesper Carter does not work alone. You are part of a great machine - one that I would like to understand. I need to know if you are my enemy or my ally."

"We're getting closer to Enemy," said Vesper, "every second I have to sit here in the rain."

"Sharp-witted as always. I didn't mean in a personal sense. Who are you working with?"

"None of your business."

"I see." Blight shook his head. "You're being difficult. Look, I can find out on my own easily enough, if necessary, Vesper. For God's sake, I knew about this murder hours after it happened. You think I couldn't learn everything about you? A few phone calls is all it would take. I wanted to give you a chance to prove you're willing to help me. If you are, then I'm willing to help you."

"I'd feel a lot more willing to help you if you'd been a bit nicer about asking."

"If you aren't willing to help me," Blight said, "then our entire relationship could come to a premature end. You understand? I can't help you if you won't help me. I'm talking about abrupt termination. There, now, I see the light is dawning. One more time. Who do you work for?"

Vesper sighed deeply. Her teeth were starting to chatter. "Fine," she said. "I work for Hong Lee. Hong Lee and his gang. We work together. We're a team. Okay, are you fucking happy now, can we maybe go inside and get some coffee?"

"Of course," said Blight, gesturing. "Thank you for understanding. You can't ride in the sedan, I'm afraid. You're a little wet."

The goons dragged her back into the van. She sat there sullenly as they drove out of the city, trying to ignore the wet hair clinging to her face. This was not part of the plan.