24991115 | 2350

  City 03 | EVECorp CBD

  48° 51' 52.9776'' N

  2° 20' 56.4504'' E

  Lounge music played softly as the elevator ascended with a low audible hum of machinery.

  Light jazz.

  The floor counter blinked rapidly as the elevator raced up the shaft.

  It skipped every floor, access reserved only for the penthouse office suite.

  Minutes to midnight, it carried only one occupant.

  The woman adjusted her black French beret as she regarded her reflection in the glossy bulletproof glass.

  She wore sunglasses and form-fitting trenchcoat, a white scarf wrapped snugly around her slender neck and she wore matching leather high-heels. Idly, she adjusted her leather gloves which fit snugly over her hands.

  The night was cold.

  She checked her chrono, an artisan timepiece crafted by the master watch-smiths of the Old World.

  Minutes to midnight.

  She is late for her appointment.

  How she loathed these last minute, late-night schedules.

  Not for the first time, she pondered if it was worth it.

  Not that she could deny a summon by her executive, but she would certainly would not be hurried.

  The chauffeur, who came on the order of her executive, waited close to an hour in his non-descriptive black hovercar before she came down.

  Much to the ire of her executive, who communicated that time was of the essence, she took time to get dressed.

  Presentable. She thought, she would not be caught dead without her make-up.

  She like her glossy crimson lipsticks; and would never dream of going out without it. She also fancied herself as fashionable and to be seen keeping up with the latest fashion trend.

  She brushed her hair back.

  She remained, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, many one of her aspiring suitors had said.

  She wore custom scented perfume, one manufactured by an international fashion conglomerate where she moonlighted as their global brand ambassador, whose CEO wooed her by gifting her the sole decanter customised only for her.

  She wore her hair long, black and mesmerizing, the hue of glossy black of midnight reflecting the radiance of the moon.

  The light and casual ambience of elevator music a stark contrast to the urgency of her summoning.

  A chime signalled she had arrived on the designated floor.

  The doors open with a hiss of displaced air, admitting her to the penthouse suite in the most prominent skyscraper in City 03.

  Even this late, there were corporates and executives lounging about the lobby, each engrossed in his or her own designated tasks.

  The woman snickered; so apparently her boss had called all her personal retinue back from leave, their leaves cancelled, their time-off suspended until further notice.

  Until they resolve this crisis.

  She strode through the elevator and onto the suite, her heels clicking against the polished surface.

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  At her approach, all personnel gave pause and looked up.

  When they beheld her, their customary haughtiness and arrogance - atypical to these pompous and self-absorbed, high-level corporate executives – evaporated instantly. Their expression replaced with those of apprehensiveness, caution, some even outright fear.

  As she approaches, those she happened to past tried valiantly at pleasantries and failed miserably.

  She paid them no heed, unaccustomed as these corporate-types were are to basic social norm and walked straight towards the secretary seated beside a set of twin opulent doors.

  She paused for a moment to regard the only decoration in the otherwise sterile suite of black and chrome.

  The doors were fashioned in the sterile, tasteless aesthetics that the New World corporate elite are fond of; a fresco of the contemporary modern art, an amalgamation of steel, modular ceramic tiles, polymer overlay and artificial wood, depicting the modern cityscape mixed with abstract art and luminous lighting that her executive so fancied, but she found to be tasteless.

  She grimaced at mural and the taste of her executive.

  She is more inclined towards the artistry and sensibility of the Old World; the architecture of post-modern chalets within certain quarters of the Old City, a part of town where the artistry and monuments of a bygone age. Where reminiscences of the Renaissance and of Ancient Rome, still stand as testament to the craftsmanship of the elder days.

  The seated secretary looked up at her coming, she is the only other person in the suite that seem not to have caught the fear radiating from the woman in black.

  Young and intelligent, her piercing blue eyes betrayed her European blood, she could pass for a media model or ambassador, but she must have more sense than to have thought to seek a career in so cutthroat an industry as entertainment.

  Not that, it was any less cutthroat here, the woman thought.

  Even at this hour, she remained immaculate, not a crease on her black blazer and white blouse, not a strand of blond hair out of place from her elegantly fashioned bun hairdo.

  The woman smiled, she always liked the girl.

  There is an innocence to the secretary, in spite that she knew, no one is truly innocent in this era.

  The woman licked her lips, of course she knew Madeleine was attracted to her.

  She would love to sample her charms, one day.

  The secretary looked up, smiled as she greeted her guest without a hint of weariness

  “Madeleine,” the woman said in reply,

  “Lovely as ever, darling.” Madeleine smiled, “go on, she’s waiting for you.” Saying so, she returned to her work.

  The woman walked past the secretary, she placed her hands on the angular-shaped doorhandles and pushed gently.

  Despite their weight, the heavyset doors slid open silently and smoothly upon their hinges, testament to the craftmanship of the engineers who installed it to the executive’s specifications.

  The woman approached the silhouette of the executive in the dimly-lit room, the executive has her back to her.

  Through the glossy bulletproof tempered floor-to-ceiling glass, the executive regarded the great city beneath her. It is a city that has stood for centuries, old before it lost its name in the Consolidation, old before the rise of the global conglomerate that would come to be known as EVE Corporation, a world-spanning syndicate with tendrils in consumer retail, media, infrastructure, advanced weaponries and robotics.

  She was the daughter and true heir to one of the oldest and secretive family of the Old World, now one of the most powerful women in the New World.

  But the woman, who stood as a guest in the penthouse of the most powerful private corporation in the world, did not show deference to the most powerful woman in the world.

  She said nothing but waited patiently for the executive to turn around.

  “You are late,” the executive spoke up, her back still to her.

  The woman took off her sunglasses and folded her arms. She still said nothing.

  The executive sighed, relenting she turned around.

  She was dressed in her sharp and crisp black business suit and contrasting white blouse. and as all members of her staff, she is immaculate even this late in the night.

  She wore her hair business-like,

  “Shirley,” the executive said in greetings.

  “Morgana,” Shirley returned evenly.

  “You will address her as Executive, Tempess.” a stern voice spoke up.

  “At ease, Kurt,” Morgana said dismissively, “I am not a soldier.”

  “Merely our commanding officer,” the man stated, albeit obviously.

  “Executive Le Fay,” Shirley reiterated in her corporate designation, she then turned to the shadows, “Commander Blade.”

  She raised her eyebrows, she did not expect the others were summoned too.

  “Now that everyone is here,” Morgana said as she took a seat, “let’s begin.”

  Two men and one more woman, clad in similar black trench-coats, strode forward, they took their place beside Kurt, who stood attentively before Morgana.

  “Welcome to EVECorp, thank you for making the trip so urgently, the four of you came highly recommended.” The executive said as she reached into her drawer and withdrew a transparent plastic folder sealed with a crisscrossing red ribbon, “eyes only: your mission brief.”

  Kurt took the envelope off the executive’s hand.

  Shirley looked on expressionless, but she felt the palpable tension.

  In corporation protocol, red signifies the highest priority or matters requiring immediate attention.

  “Church?” Kurt said askance.

  “This report is mere hours ago,” Morgana said grimly, “visual confirmation of the High Priestess in Cathedral Prime.”

  “The Harbingers?” Kurt asked.

  “Four of them,” Morgana said, she looked straight at Tempess as she said so.

  “Four? Together?” the other woman echoed.

  “This is big,” the other man said, “if the Church field four of them.”

  “This is why you are here.” The executive said evenly, “a counterbalance to these fanatics.”

  “Directives?” Kurt asked.

  “Search and destroy,” Morgana replied evenly, “EVECorp assets and holdings are substantial. I will not see ny investments undone by madmen. Civilian expendable, security of our assets takes priority.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”