The Grand Chinese Protectorate had expanded their influence and territory significantly. In this case protection meant oppression and suppression of the local population while those territories were stripped of natural resources for the benefit of the centre. To his knowledge all diplomatic ties had been severed years ago.
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The three major players when Smythe went to sleep. The first block was formed under what was once known as the North American Treaty Organisation (NATO) minus a few countries that did not survive the transition. These mostly functioned as their namesake countries, granting the illusion of sovereignty despite centralised controls at the highest levels of their governments.
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“This activity is in direct competition to the full conversion procedures offered by companies based in the Great Chinese Protectorate,” L said.
In the background the scene changed yet again, this time it was a video. While the billboard looked feminine with a tail, this was anything but. The tail was there, but the scales covered the whole of the body, the breasts were gone, as was the hair. The creature featured yellow eyes, sharp teeth, and claws at the tip of those webbed hands.
There was a reason for the marketing, few would willingly undergo such a radical procedure if they knew their vanity was at risk. Of course, he had to wonder why they cared what the Great Chinese Protectorate wanted.
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Smythe had heard of this during his time in the Navy. It was a treatment that enabled divers to operate underwater on a permanent basis. There were several reasons why the military would want to make use of this type of adaptation, but he had no idea why anyone would want this. The high from having your body manipulated at a genetic level can’t possibly be that good.
L switched pictures, and this one showed some sort of Advertisement. It featured the picture of a beautiful woman of Asian descent with bare breasts, and a long scaly tail. In the background there was an undersea city, which looked to be the erotic fantasy of a science-fiction writer desperate to find their niche.
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Now that fits the profile of someone who could run a criminal organisation over a large geographical area. While he knew little of their society, if it was anything like their own, then no one survived for long without being challenged. It also explained the lack of security and her ability to remain under the radar until now.
“She is responsible for the manufacturing and distribution of a retrovirus that alters human physiology for underwater adaptation.”
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It was generic enough to confirm without delving into the classified realm. It was also glazing over the fact that over half his team were dead before they put down two and another three got away.
A quick nod from M, was apparently all that L needed to start up again.
“We have given her the codename Duchesse,” L said. “We suspect that she’s roughly four entries old and belongs to a faction that believed strongly in keeping the existence of their kind a secret.”
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“We suspect that this is purely a cover,” L said. Can he get to the point?
“I’m told you have experience in dealing with vampires,” M asked.
The other two turned to M as he picked up his cup and took a sip. Both L and R appeared to be just as surprised as Smythe was that the man had spoken. He must be tired of things dragging on.
“Yes, Sir,” Smythe said. “Encountered a small group of them on my last mission.”
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As expected, L pushed on. Since questions at this juncture would only bring about more involvement from R, Smythe decided to remain quiet. The picture changed to focus on the older of the two.
“We suspect that this is your primary target,” R said. “She is known to us as Tessa Nelligan…”
The profile was what one would expect from someone so young. Most of the background was educational, including dropping out of college after a year. No criminal history, and no employment history beyond a couple of summer jobs as a teen. None of this screamed drug kingpin and one might find more robust resumes from a coffee barista. There’s something more to this…
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“That’s where you come in, Commander,” L said. “We have similar restrictions of deploying agents on our own citizens.”
The rest was left unsaid and that explained why R was here. One could not operate counter-intelligence agents in their own countries, but they could ask an ally to intercede on their behalf. Smythe felt a bit of acid making its way up his throat. He knew if this operation went sideways, then he would be labelled a rogue agent and treated accordingly. In that case a bullet to the back of the head would be merciful.
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
“These are your targets,” L said. “We suspect that one is silently running a large coordinated organised crime syndicate along the eastern seaboard.”
Now that came as a surprise, because neither looked like they were up to the task. Neither appeared to be in their thirties, an impressive feat for anyone that age to wrestle control of an existing syndicate or win become a major player. Where are the guards, their version of Ursus and Brutus?
That level of power came with powerful enemies, which meant around the clock security. It would be a risk to grab a drink at a local venue without heavy security being involved.
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
