1 3 7 – ZOË (9 page)

Chapter Eight
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

“She saved us a step, didn’t she?”  Colin Brady asked.

Lance nodded to the man seated across from him.  The
fiery sun was making its descent.  Long, violet shadows crept across the tables of the outdoor café.  The owner had already turned on the strands of tiny colored lights that wound around the wooden posts holding up the tin roof.  It made the café look merry despite its shabbiness.

“The United States government should send her a
check for services rendered,” Brady said.

“Yes, t
hey should,” Lance agreed.

“So
you’re back in your brother’s good graces thanks to Zoë.”

“Thanks to Zoë,” Lance repeated.

“Damn, it’s hot,” Brady said as he swatted a mosquito that had landed on his tattooed bicep.

Since Brazil was below the equator, the seasons were reversed.  February was
smack in the middle of summer.

“
Boa noite
,” the young waiter said.

Lance glanced
up at the brown-faced boy, who looked to be about fifteen years old.  “
Um café, por favor
.”

“Oh, come on, Adams!
Loosen up,” Brady said.  Turning to the boy, he added, “
Duas caipirinhas
.”

“
Sim, senhor
,” the boy said before scurrying away to get the order.

“
Fortes
,” Brady called out after the waiter.

Lance sat back in his chair and watched as his companion lit a cigarette.  Brady was a toug
h son of a bitch with a hard face, steely eyes and a severe military crew cut.  At age forty-eight, his muscular frame rivaled the bodies of weightlifters half his age.  After twenty years of service in the Marines, he now headed a powerful CIA team- the same team that had been investigating his brother, Michael, for the last four years.  The U.S. government was currently keeping an eye on Z-Lab Industries due to a lot of recent activity.  Since Z-Labs were scattered throughout the Americas, there were two headquarters: one in Washington D.C. for North America, and one in Rio de Janeiro for South America. 

“Have you found anything yet?” Lance asked.

Brady took a deep drag of his cigarette.  “Not yet.  Look, Adams, your brother is a master at covering his tracks.  I’ve never known anyone as careful as he is, but you know what?  They all fuck up eventually…even the pros.  And it’s just a matter of time before Michael fucks up, too.”   

The young waiter came out with two glasses filled w
ith
cachaça
, (Brazilian rum) mixed with a bit of cane sugar, plenty of lime and crushed ice.

“God, these are good,” Brady said, holding up the glass.

Lance took a sip of the potent drink.  “Addictive is more like it.”

Brady gulped some down and smacked his lips.  “So you believe
Zoë knows nothing.”

“Not a thing,” Lance assured.  “Look,
I don’t want her involved in any of this.  She’s been through a lot lately.”

“What does your brother tell her?  I mean, doesn’t she
wonder where the money comes from?  Or why he’s always taking off without telling her where he’s going?  Judging by what you’ve told me about her, she’s not stupid.”

“She knows Michael
is heavily involved in politics and finance.  She also knows he owns ALTSYS and Z-Lab Industries.  I told her the cure for the Pod virus was discovered in Z-Lab, nothing more.”

“
You’ve always been straight up with us so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.  My team hasn’t found anything on her-
yet
. For now, we believe she’s clean.”  He stopped to take a drag of his cigarette.  “But if we find out she’s involved in these shenanigans, I’m not showing any mercy.  We’ve come too far to compromise anything.  Understand?”

“For God’s sake, Brady, she’s been dead for
almost twenty years,” Lance reminded him.  “How the hell can she possibly be involved in anything?”

Brady blew smoke out through his nostrils and took a sip of his drink
.  “That’s got to be strange.  I mean, can you imagine just waking up one day and poof- it’s twenty years later?”

L
ance’s face was serious. “No, I can’t.”

Brady shook his head. 
“Poor kid.  She must feel like a freak.” 

Lance eyed Brady
steadily.  “Is there anything else or are we done here?”

“We’re done, Adams.  Thanks for your help.”

Lance downed the remainder of his drink and stood to go.  “Don’t mention it.” 

Picking up a black nylon
gym bag, he pushed in his chair.  He thought about taking a cab to his hotel, but a cool breeze was blowing from the north and the sun looked like an orange fireball in the sky.  Better to walk.

“Hey Adams, get some sleep you look like shit,” Brady called out after him.

Lance looked over his shoulder and nodded.  He started up the steep incline and the ocean soon became visible.  In the distance, the dark silhouette of the famous Sugar Loaf with its statue of
Cristo Redentor
stood out in stark contrast with the golden twilight sky.

It was not the first time
Lance had been summoned to Rio.  The U.S. government had received an anonymous tip that a well-known terrorist had been working at Z-Lab’s South American headquarters with other scientists before the cure was found- a potent vaccine capable of penetrating the cellular pod.  Naturally, U.S. surveillance teams asked the question: why would America’s number one hero, Michael Adams, employ a notorious terrorist?

Lance was first
contacted by the CIA almost three years ago on suspicion of being an accomplice to a terrorist plot.  At first he thought someone was playing a practical joke on him, but after nine hours of continuous interrogation he realized they were serious.  When the interrogators (one being none other than Brady) were finally convinced of his innocence, they told him why he’d been targeted in the first place.  He simply could not believe the allegations against Michael, but Brady had provided enough evidence to raise many disturbing questions.  Documents were missing, however; documents that would put an end to Michael’s brilliant career and privileged lifestyle.

Lance was torn
between civic duty and fraternal loyalty when Brady had asked him to work for his team.  He loved his older brother and had always looked up to him like a father, but if the allegations were true, Michael was nothing more than a criminal. 

Lance
reluctantly agreed to help the CIA.  For months, he could find nothing out of the ordinary to report until one day, after playing a round of golf with his brother in the hot sun, Michael invited him back to the house for a cold drink.  He asked Lance to wait while he took a quick shower.  Lance seized the opportunity to search Michael’s office.  There was a tablet on his desk with a message notification from flashing across the screen. The sender’s name was Al Majed.  Sickened with disbelief, Lance grabbed the tablet off the desk at the same time that Michael had walked back into the office.

Caught red-handed, Lance played dumb
, claiming that he only wanted to check the real estate market online.  Michael strode across the room and snatched the tablet from his hand, accusing his younger brother of invading his privacy.  A terrible argument erupted between the two of them, and they had parted on unfriendly terms. 

Lanc
e had not set foot in his brother’s house again until last summer when he visited Zoë.  He had failed in his assignment and the CIA became suspicious of him once again.  Brady had been pressuring him to make amends with Michael in order to obtain more information.  Thanks to Zoë, he now had the perfect excuse to get into Michael’s good graces.  Unfortunately, the CIA has had its radar pointed at her ever since she was discharged from the hospital.  Lance didn’t want her involved in this mess.  He cared about his sister-in-law…he loved her, in fact.  He stopped at the last thought.

He loved her…

He took in the breathtaking scene before him and secretly wished Zoë could be there to enjoy it, too.  He liked Brazil; the weather, the people, the food, the music…sometimes he wished he could just stay in Rio forever.  The people wore smiles and seemed to have no worries. 

He
sighed and turned to go.  He reached the hotel and looked up at the towering, ultra-modern edifice overlooking the beach.  It was the only American hotel on the block and of course, the most expensive.

“
O seu nome
?” the female receptionist asked with a dazzling smile.

“Lance Adams
,” he replied.

The woman pressed the computer keys until she found his
last name, and then handed him an electronic key to one of the penthouse suites.  Lance frowned.  Brady always booked him at the best hotels, but he usually slept in a modest room. 

“You may want to recheck that,” he said.  “Not that I wouldn’t mind the penthouse…”

“
Desculpa
,” she said, hastily snatching the key back.  “Wrong Mr. Adams.  This one here is your key.”

Lance accepted the key to a room on a lower floor and went upstairs. 
His wrist-phone went off just as he was closing the door.  It was Brady. 

Lance cou
ld tell from the background that he was still at the café where they had just met less than an hour ago.  “What’s up?”

“
I just received a call that your brother is in Rio,” Brady replied.

“That explains it
,” Lance said before telling Brady about the incident downstairs with the penthouse key.

“My source didn’t mention anything about Michael staying in Rio, but it does seem like an uncanny coincidence to have two men with the same last name at the hotel.  Let me get back to you.  Stay put in the meantime.”

“Will do,” Lance said and then hung up.

He threw his gym bag on
a chair and fished through it until he found a baseball cap.  Tucking his shoulder-length hair into the cap, he put on a pair of sunglasses, grabbed his key and made his way up to the penthouse.  There were only four doors on the entire floor, which meant there were four suites.  He saw no one in the hallway and quickly walked past each of the doors until he heard noise coming from behind one of them.  Pressing his ear against the smooth wood, he heard two people speaking.  One voice was unmistakably Michael’s.  To his surprise, however, the other voice belonged to a woman who was definitely not Zoë.  He pressed his ear closer.  The woman was laughing and speaking in Brazilian Portuguese, which he understood.  She told Michael she was hungry and wanted to go out to dinner. 

Lance practically ran the length of the hallway and ducked
into the stairwell.  Luckily, the door had a panel of mirrored glass that allowed him full view of his brother’s suite.  Two minutes later, a beautiful and well-dressed woman walked out of the room holding a lit cigarette between her impeccably manicured fingertips.  Something about her demeanor gave him the impression that she was an escort. 

Michael closed the door and then
bent his head and kissed her red lips in a familiar, intimate manner.  They walked into the elevator and waited for the doors to open.  Lance was stunned.  He went downstairs to the lobby, and then outside.  Earlier, he had lamented the fact that there would hardly be a moon that night because he loved to see it rising over Rio.  Now, he was glad of it.  The darkness offered him some protection as he stole to the front entrance of the hotel.  A limo was waiting for Michael and his exquisite companion.  Lance watched them enter the car and then saw the woman kissing Michael passionately as it drove off.

Lance’s wrist phone went off.  It was Brady.  “Here’s the scoop: there was an emergency during the night; some type of chemical leak that led to a system malfunction.  We don’t have the details, but we know it has nothing to do with our investigation.  Michael flew out from D.C. to personally assess the damage.  He arrived in Rio around lunchtime and spent the entire afternoon at the lab.”

“Well, I’m standing outside my hotel and I just saw Michael leave with a Brazilian woman. I think she may be an escort.”

Brady frowned in irritation. 
“Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” he demanded.  “What if he spotted you?”

“He didn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. 
What do you want me to do?”

Brady sighed and thought for a moment. 
“Call your sister-in-law and get as much information from her as possible without giving up anything.”

Lance closed his eyes for a brief moment.
  The last thing he wanted to do was call Zoë after having seen his brother with another woman. 

Brady frowned. 
“Lance, do you hear me?”

“
I got it.  I’ll call you back as soon as I have something.”

Lance
ended the call and looked around again.  He needed a drink before making the call.  Michael would no doubt be gone for at least a couple of hours.  Taking off the sunglasses, he walked back into the hotel and headed straight to the bar.  An attractive woman smiled at him, but he barely noticed her as he took a seat.  The bartender approached.