Page 25 of Operation Iron Heart

“Impressive.” Jill Ambush gave Jack a look full of desire, which he completely ignored.

Good, thought Marci, pleased by his response but knowing that they wouldn’t succeed like that; Jill had to take the bait and that wasn’t going to happen if Marci claimed it for herself.

“Hang on a minute…?” murmured Lorna Atkinson, who now had a second cocktail in front of her. A sudden flash of inspiration caused her otherwise smooth forehead to wrinkle. “Does that mean he’s one of these sexual entertainment robots that Rochelle MacIntyre thought were the future?”

“Almost,” confirmed Marci with a smooth smile. “The difference is that MfM has better technology and a better design concept. Our robots are far more than just mechanical lovers. They are reliable, charming and, naturally, have incredible stamina. In emotional interactions with them, the only difference between them and a human man is that they are emotionally articulate and romantic, if you want them to be,” added Marci with an enigmatic smile. “They also function as reliable bodyguards and are guaranteed to deal with any opponent. With a robot like him, I’d happily travel anywhere in the world.” Marci regarded Jack fondly and saw his lips quirk in amusement as he sipped at his whisky.

Lorna’s expression remained sceptical whereas Jill Ambush, who was sipping seductively at her Blue Lagoon, was looking at Jack with clear adoration in her violet eyes.

“It’s said that Rochelle MacIntyre paid for her little robot adventure with her life,” said Lorna, still unsure. “And the robot delivered by CRU has disappeared without a trace. Is it possible that this unknown robot has that on its conscience?”

“I’d heard that, too,” said Marci cryptically, trying not to look at Jack. “But that kind of thing wouldn’t happen with our robots. All our escorts come with an iron-clad safety guarantee on all its aggression components. The robot will never turn on its owner. It loves her with an emotional intensity similar to that of a human, but with the difference that its owner can switch it off at any time if she’s not in the mood for it.”

Marci had no idea whether that was true. She’d simply repeated the words that central command had put in her head.

“What makes you so certain that there are no errors in the program?” asked Jill Ambush with an air of slyness. “My ex-husband always cursed the use of combat robots when we lived together. He’s on the defence committee, you know, and is responsible for their deployment. There were some cases of these fighting machines turning against their commanders or deserting the battlefield.”

Oh, that arsehole? thought Marci to herself. The one who left you for a younger-looking robot and thinks nothing of kidnapping innocent husbands and fathers, transforming them into hybrid soldiers and sending them to die on the killing fields!

Instead of saying that, she just smiled diplomatically, feeling Jack’s watchful eye on her. He knew what she was thinking and almost certainly felt the same way. But instead of yelling at Jill Ambush for being stupid enough to trust the wrong guy, she focused on her task of stopping guys like her ex-husband.

“We have female test personnel who check each robot for their reliability before we hand them over to clients,” replied Marci smoothly, without really knowing where this thought was coming from. Her link to Cathrin and the team seemed to have been suddenly disrupted. When she saw how Jack’s mouth curved in agreement, she hastily took a sip of her wine to stop herself laughing. She swallowed too quickly, causing her to cough violently; Jack slapped her helpfully on the back and then handed her a glass of water that the waiter had brought with the wine. It may have been this gesture that assuaged Lorna’s scepticism, as she visibly relaxed and looked at Jack with a different expression on her face. Jill Ambush, however, had obviously decided that if further testing were required, she would be first in line to take up the offer.

“Can you have longer conversations with him?” she asked with an air of challenge. “I mean, not just a series of polite answers to my questions.”

“We can conduct any kind of conversation, Madame,” Jack explained in his deep voice, which had a uniquely hypnotising effect when listened to for any length of time. “What would you like to talk about? Art, history, music? The lottery numbers? Or just the weather? If you’d like to talk dirty, we should probably find a more secluded location…?” He gave her an inviting wink. Marci held her breath, trying not to explode; apparently he wasn’t wasting any time flirting with the President’s bitch.

“Oh, wow!” replied Jill. “Is he available for hire?”

“You can buy him,” Marci informed her. “If you can afford him,” she added with satisfaction in her voice.

“How much does he cost?” asked Jill, clearly interested.

“This one is not for sale,” stated Marci firmly. “He’s just a prototype. But you’ll definitely be able to purchase the next ones when we go into production. For the same amount, you could easily buy a speed glider, but it’s not as much of an aphrodisiac.” Marci gave a sly smile and took a quick sip of her drink before continuing. “This one is a custom model,” she added unnecessarily. “I’d trust him with my life and my children’s lives without a second thought.”

“Have you got children?” asked Lorna in surprise.

“No,” said Marci hurriedly, shrugging apologetically, sending a quick, silent prayer that fate wouldn’t look unkindly on her for denying her two boys. “I mean, if I had any,” she added firmly, avoiding Jack’s eye.

“Are any models available to buy yet?” asked Jill, staring at Jack like a praying mantis on the hunt for a particularly juicy bug.

“We’ll start production as soon as the first orders roll in,” lied Marci boldly, wondering where all this courage was coming from. “I’m hoping that a partnership with MacIntyre LLC will come out of this evening, giving a boost to the start of our commercial production.”

Jill looked cross, clearly not satisfied with this answer, and Lorna’s husband, Governor Atkinson, returned to the table. He was a stocky man with broad shoulders and sparse grey hair. Like all the politicians present that evening, he wore a white suit with a white waistcoat and a matching white bow tie. Probably feigning his non-existent innocence, thought Marci grimly. She imagined throwing a glass of red wine over his hypocritical outfit in front of everyone. Or even better, tomato sauce – sprayed over his suit in public, simulating all the innocent blood that was spilt every day by men like him and Ambush in their lust for profit. Will’s blood, to be more precise. She was under no illusion that, in his political role, Atkinson was ignorant of MacIntyre’s schemes. Just like Jill Ambush’s ex, who as a senator was heavily involved in those decisions. They were all part of a group of unscrupulous criminals who cared little for the value of human life.

Judging from his wiry appearance, Atkinson played sport regularly and seemed to be fully aware of his attractiveness. He smiled confidently at Marci before being introduced to her.

“Sweetheart, this is Skyla Rosebud,” said Lorna to the Governor, who was clearly closely acquainted with Jill Ambush as he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

“Ms Rosebud runs her own company making male escort robots,” Lorna continued, her enthusiasm evident in her voice, giving Marci the impression she was actually trying to provoke her husband by giving him this good news. “Isn’t that fantastic? And she’s even brought one with her so that women can order from her new product range this evening.”

Atkinson jerked as if hit by a laser and automatically withdrew the hand that he’d been holding out to Jack. He’d clearly mistaken the smart robot with the green eyes for a human. Following his awkward misjudgement, he simply gave a brief nod to Marci.

“Doug Atkinson,” he said, coolness evident in his voice, before taking a seat next to his wife, grumbling, and aiming his sharp grey gaze directly at Marci. “Monty tells me you’ve put yourself forward as a new competitor to CRU. I’d imagined you to be more…masculine. Don’t ask me why. I admit I’ve never heard of you before, but that doesn’t mean anything. I don’t build robots, after all, I just use them for my purposes. Can I ask where you’re based?”

“Vancouver,” replied Marci confidently, a fact retained from her crash course with Cathrin. “And so outside your area of responsibility,” she said by way of clarification, “although that doesn’t mean that we’re not interested in collaborating with local industry. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. We’re still looking for suitable partners. As you can imagine, as a start-up company we can’t get production like this off the ground all by ourselves. Once word gets around among women about what we’re offering, we probably won’t be able to move for incoming orders.”

Atkinson raised an eyebrow and Marci thought she could detect overt disapproval in his dark gaze, particularly when he looked at Jack, whose expression was blank.