The Complete CV

I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody who asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect.

"I bet Hippocrates never had to deal with gross negligence or ran the risk of having his arse sued into non-existence." Kate grumbled as she took another swig from her glass. Her gaze drifted over to the pages she's printed off from the Internet earlier that evening. Some of the details made her feel sick – particularly the accusations of child molestation that were never proven over twenty years ago while he was the administrator of a children's home – and the alcohol fuelled those sensations further. Kate drained her glass and headed off to bed – only to find her sleep interrupted by nightmarish visions.

****

She collapsed on the bed next to him as she caught her breath. She took a moment to let her body recover from its exertions before she reached for the cigarette.

"You know that smoking in bed can be bad for your health don't you?" James said as he propped himself up on his side to look at her, taking in the vision of her naked body against the crisp white bed sheets.

"I've had much more dangerous things in bed with me," Cassandra replied as she let out a thin stream of smoke from between her lips. "I must commend you on your performance this evening," she added. "Very...stimulating."

"Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment." James answered as he got up. He pulled on a dressing gown as he walked towards the desk at the far side of the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Cassandra asked.

"I have something for you," he answered as she heard him opening a draw. Normally her instincts would be screaming at her in any other rendition of this scenario, however tonight she felt comfortable and relaxed in his presence. She watched him walk back to the bed – where he presented the USB memory stick to her. "There's all your information for you, nicely decrypted and translated."

"Translated?" Cassandra took the device from between his fingers and looked at it.

"Yeah, each file was individually encrypted and in Mandarin once I'd opened them." He said as he lay down on the bed with her. "However, that was part of what MagicWand was designed to deal with – it figured out the overall encryption of the host system in order to extract the individual data components, thus removing the need for individual decryption at source..."

"So you can decrypt the files at your own leisure, once you've removed the files from their original location, right?" Cassandra followed up.

"Bingo," James answered. "Which is why when I realised it was missing from my desk that there was only one person who would have taken it. You." He stroked her hair, enjoying the sensation of it between his fingers. "The question is what do you want with the operational files of an international crime syndicate?"

"How do you know I'm not a part of it?" Cassandra asked, impressed with the fact that he'd taken the time to read through some, if not all, of the data contained on the stick.

"Mmm, let's see..." he mused as he kissed her forehead. "I think youwerepart of it at one point, but these days you're strictly freelance. You don't strike me as being the sort of woman who takes orders easily. Now, I'd figure that you're either interested in taking down the organisation – which seems a smidge too altruistic for you – or you're after someone from within the group itself, and that's the only way you can locate them."

"You're full of surprises tonight James," Cassandra said, genuinely impressed with his perception of her motives. "Let's just say that you might be right with some of your assumptions, but that's all I want to say on the subject for now."

"Hey, that's fine by me," James replied as he began to kiss her neck. "We all have skeletons in our closets."

"So, how many people know how that little gizmo of yours works?" Cassandra asked as she could feel him moving along her collarbone.

"Two," James said between kisses. "And one of those people is dead."

****

The day had not begun well for Kate. Sam had cried most of the night and the alcohol she'd consumed had given her a headache that felt like a jackhammer pounding against her skull. On top of that the practice manager Upson had seen her when she'd got into work to point out that her patient waiting times were outside of the statistical average and was dragging the practice down. She growled an apology to him before shutting herself inside her office.

She downed some painkillers from her draw that she'd swiped from the pharmacy a few days ago to try and cope with the pain inside her skull. She shook her head and then opened the window to try and inject some fresh air into the stuffy office. Her hands went into her pockets of her trousers – and her fingers found the vial of fluid that Thompson had given her less than twenty four hours ago.

Kate took it out and held it up to the light. It seemed so innocuous in her hands –one simple injection and her problems would be solved, simple as that. But could she bring herself to do it? Could she actually consciously take someone's life?The thoughts drifted through her head, then she recalled the things she'd read on the Internet. She'd spent hours last night looking through various reports that were in the public domain and the images they described had fuelled her disrupted sleep.

By the time Cullis entered her surgery she'd been operating on autopilot. He sat there in front of her and took his jacket off. His smile was warm, comforting almost as he sat in the chair next to her desk.

"So Mr Cullis, it's a flu jab that you're here for today, is that right?" Kate asked.

"Yes, yes indeed," Cullis answered. "It's getting to be that time of year again."

"Yes it is," Kate replied as she opened one of the sealed syringes from her draw.

"Is that your son?" Cullis asked, pointing at the photo of Sam on Kate's desk.

"Yes, yes it is." Kate said as a strange sensation gripped her stomach.

"He attends St John's Primary School doesn't he?" Cullis continued in his amiable tone. Kate could feel a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. Her hands started to shake slightly.

"How...how do you know that?" she asked, her hand reaching almost unconsciously for the vial of fluid.

"Oh, I spend some time around that area walking my dog," Cullis said, a strange smile on his face. "It's such a lovely area, don't you think? Such a nice area for children to play, especially in the park."

"Yes Mr Cullis, it is." Kate said as she filled the syringe. "Now, we'll just give you this shot and you can be on your way..."

****

In all the chaos that erupted in the waiting room as George Cullis collapsed to the floor, no one really paid any attention to the fact that the ambulance arrived within three minutes. Later comments by the reception staff simply wrote off their prompt arrival as good fortune – a good run in the traffic, the proximity of the vehicle to the surgery and the fact that it was still relatively early in the morning so the ring road wouldn't have been particularly busy.

Once the paramedics had taken the now deceased Mr Cullis outside and secured him inside the vehicle, one of them pulled out a mobile telephone and pressed one on the speed dial.

"It's Jackson," the driver said. "Cullis is dead."

****

Thompson nodded as he took a good look at the body under the white sheet. It was now over twelve hours since Cullis had expired and his skin was a rather unappealing blue-grey colour. Thompson took several photographs for the purposes of confirming the ma's death with his superiors.

"Dump the ambulance and burn the body with it," He said to Jackson. "Then break into the surgery and remove any trace of Cullis from their records, make it look like some pathetic locals broke in looking for free drugs."

"Very well Mr Thompson." Jackson said as she pushed the gurney back out of the small garage and towards the rear of the emergency services vehicle. Once it was secured within, he watched his assistant get into the driver's seat and drive the ambulance away into the night. He allowed himself a small, satisfied smile as he walked towards his car.

"Good evening Thompson." The voice was accompanied by the sound of rounds being chambered inside two pistols. He stopped in his tracks and turned slowly around. He saw two figures – both female from what he could discern in the failing streetlight – aiming silencer-equipped weapons at him, their faces covered by black ski masks.

"Miss Vincent, how lovely to see you," Thompson said. "And you must be Miss Staunton, I presume. What a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance."

"You're very gracious for someone who's about to die." Cassandra hissed. Thompson smiled.

"It never hurts to be polite, or have you forgotten that part of your training my dear Cassie?" He said. "You know what they say in our business, Nil Mortifii Sine Lucre."

As soon as the last word had left his lips, Cassandra dropped to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Her body became loose as she crumpled on the spot. Lacey watched it in slow motion, not quite believing what she had seen. She covered the two feet between them in a fraction of a second.

"Cassandra? Cassandra? Can you hear me?" Her voice rose in pitch as she spoke. She could see Cassandra's eyes fluttering underneath her eyelids, as her body seemed to go into some sort of convulsion. Lacey picked up her pistol and aimed it at Thompson. "What the fuck have you done? Tell me or I'll blow your fucking head off!" she screamed.

"Now, that wouldn't be a particularly good idea would it?" Thompson mocked her. "After all, your mentor here is obviously in some sort of state of post-hypnotic suggestion and without the correct medical attention she could die in, oooh, let's say, six hours." He said as he turned around and walked back to his car. "Best of luck with that Miss Staunton."

****

By the time Lacey had gotten Cassandra back to James Waltham's apartment, an hour had slipped by. She pounded on the door with her fist as she struggled to hold Cassandra upright. The expression on James' face spoke volumes as Lacey pushed past him and carefully placed Cassandra on the sofa.

"...and you don't recall the words he used?" James asked as he sat at the keyboard. He had managed to convince Lacey to put Cassandra in the bed upstairs while he tried to find something of use within the data files he had decrypted the previous day.

"It was something foreign," Lacey said. "He called it...a post-something or other."

"Post-hypnotic suggestion," James said. "They use it as a safeguard against their agents turning against them – sort of like Robocop's secret fourth directive that prevents him from acting against OCP employees." He continued to scan through the files. "Bollocks, there's nothing in here." He got up from the chair and grabbed his coat.

"Where are you going?" Lacey asked.

"I'm going to the source – I'll ask Thompson what the safe word is, his address is in the personnel files Cassie stole," he said as he scooped up his car keys and something else from his desktop.

"Wait, I'll come with you." Lacey said. Thompson turned around.

"No, you stay here and look after Cassandra," he said. "I'm better at this sort of stuff on my own."

****

The headlights momentarily blinded him as he walked through the car park. As he used his hand to shield his eyes he could make out a figure standing beside the open door.

"Mr Thompson, right?" The shaded figure spoke clearly and with authority.

"Yes," Thompson replied. "However you have me at a disadvantage..."

"Time is of the essence and I'm not in the mood for small talk." The figure interrupted him. "So I'll come straight to the point. I have the flash drive containing the information that was...liberated from your organisation the other night. I'm prepared to return it to you in exchange for the safe word you used on Cassandra Vincent tonight."

"Interesting proposition," Thompson replied as he looked at his watch. "I would think she's got less than two hours to live now."

"So you can understand my predicament." The figure said. Thompson watched as the figure threw something in his direction. He caught it – it was the flash drive. "That's a sign of my good faith, you now have the drive back in your possession."

"What makes you think that I'm prepared to tell you what the word is? After all, Miss Vincent has been a somewhat...persistent thorn in my side for several years now." Thompson said. "And if you have had any business dealings with her, you can appreciate just how dangerous she can be given the right...motivation." The shadowy figure laughed.

"Well, whilst that drive is the original, it's got an awful lot of brothers and sisters floating around now." The shadowy figure said. "You ever heard of a reporter called Daniel Crossman? If you don't give me the reversal code then he gets a copy of everything on that, along with several other interested parties, sent from an e-mail address registered to you. I imagine your employers won't be too happy with you under the circumstances."

"Mmm...tell me sir, do you ever play poker?" Thompson asked, considering his options.

"I never play games I can't win." The figure replied. "So, what's it going to be?"

"Very well. The activation phrase was dog Latin for No Killing Without Pay," Thompson said. "However, you need to reverse its effects with a well known Magicians catchphrase recited in a similar fashion. I'm sure a bright young man like you can figure out the translation in time. Good night to you sir." Thompson turned and walked away. He heard a car door slam shut and tires squeal before the car roared past him. The blacked out windows preventing him from getting a clear view of the occupant as it sped away.

****

Lacey was clutching at Cassandra's hand, willing her not to die. Cassandra's pulse was gradually getting weaker as her breathing became more erratic. Lacey looked at the clock on the wall and realised that time was running out. The sound of the front door of the apartment opening and slamming shut knotted her stomach. Her hand gripped the butt of the pistol that was secured in a holster as she expected Thompson to walk through the door.

"How is she?" Lacey let out a sigh of relief when she heard James' voice.

"She's fading," she called back as he entered the bedroom. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah." He said as he knelt down beside Cassandra and leaned next to her ear. The words were whispered from his lips, but Lacey could still make them out.

Nunc Ille Est Magicus

Cassandra's eyes shot open. Her lungs inhaled as if she had been drowning and were taking their first brief of fresh air. Her limbs seemed to tense for a second before she became limp. She looked at both of the people crouching either side of her, her eyes ablaze with fear.

"What..."

"It's okay – you're alright, it's over." James said as he maintained eye contact with her. "You're safe here."

"Where's Thompson?" Cassandra asked.

"Don't worry about Thompson, just get some rest." Lacey said. Cassandra seemed confused, but the prospect of resting seemed to appeal to her and within a few minutes she was asleep. They both watched her as her chest rose and fell in a blissfully consistent rhythm.

"What did you say to her?" Lacey asked. James smiled as he said the words in their literal English translation.

"Now, that's magic!"