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Chapter Ten
Coop
The entry to Zaki’s home looked more like the white marbled entry of a high-end hotel or resort. Which made sense given the mansion was run like a business, not a residence. Though, as I explained to Nik, several of the higher-up employees, like Aziza and Vivi, as well as the house staff, lived in the mansion’s many suites. Zaki’s quarters were only accessed by a select few and it had been years since he’d stepped outside of them.
“Why live in paradise if you’re going to lock yourself away and never enjoy it?” Nik mused as we followed Vivi down a hallway to the bunker-style war room.
I was still stewing about Zee snubbing our meeting and wasn’t in the mood to delve into all of my theories. I relayed the most publicly accepted one. “The shipwreck was rumored to have left him disfigured and I guess that was the final straw. But Zaki’s always had a touch of the Howard Hughes. Already a notorious germaphobe, his obsessive-compulsive disorder eventually morphed into a full-fledged fear of a global pandemic. Doesn’t seem as paranoid now as it did back when he withdrew completely.”
A search on Zaki’s family would yield a long history of tragedy and death—from the mysterious illness which took his youngest daughter at an early age and his wife’s subsequent suicide to a deadly kidnapping of his oldest daughter and daughter-in-law. The final straw had been the shipwreck that had taken the remaining family members.
Oddly, Zaki’s reclusion had become one of his best career moves, as it gave him a platform to endorse Beryl Enterprises’ ground-breaking metaverse projection system called Portal. The AI advances to Portal allowed users to flawlessly project lifelike holograms that could be used in normal ambient light environments without the use of headgear or goggles. Beryl had already completed an AI profile and a series of holograms using OZ’s likeness for demos, but initially hadn’t had any takers for the expensive new tech.
Zaki had set out to prove he could run a global empire from the immense luxury of his island mansion by attending multiple conference meetings on different continents in the same day as effectively as if he’d been there in person. By not using heavy fuel consumption for travel, corporations could also save money, time, and the environment.
With the success of Zaki’s program, it didn’t take long for Beryl Enterprises to become the industry leader in modern business solutions. Soon Beryl started diversifying the AI experience, expanding into more nuanced biometrics as well as taking on counter hacking. That was when first-world governments had come calling, and when my services had become necessary.
“Gentlemen,” Vivi said as she opened the oversized vault with a retinal scan followed by a long string of characters as her credentials. The security system not only took into consideration the user’s physical attributes, like fingerprints, but also compiled other biometrics, like finger pressure and speed of entry on a code. If the user behaved out of the norms learned by the system, the vault would not open.
“I’ll let OZ know you’re here.”
Nik whistled in appreciation at the wall of computer screens relaying not only views of the island, but also around the world. “Shit, man. This is some next-level surveillance. Reapers? Real-time NSA feeds? UN satellite footage?” His attention shifted as he homed in on the one of island’s camera blocks, specifically the one of Thea and Leo in the salon.
I shook my head at the footage of my little brother blissfully leaning back in a massage chair while one person worked on his feet and another buffed his fingernails. “Getting his fucking paws done, while sipping champagne, no less.”
Meanwhile, an Asian male hairstylist with shiny black hair that resembled a cross between modern art and an origami swan appeared behind Thea. “Wish I could hear them,” Nik muttered.
I touched the screen to zoom in and turned the microphone on so we could eavesdrop. Nik huddled in closer.
In a thickly Australian accent, the short, wiry man explained, “My birth name was Johnny Lee, but I prefer Django, because it means ‘I awake’ and your hair, doll, is in desperate need of waking.”
Eyes wide, Thea cautiously asked, “My hair won’t be as awake as yours, will it?”
I laughed. Django’s hair looked like it was on its fifth energy drink, and not the Outbreak Energy drinks Leo endorsed, either. More like the extremely potent Rip Its we used to chug before missions while in the sandbox.
Django waved his hand, dismissing Thea’s concerns. “Darling, your cheekbones could never pull this off. Leo’s, on the other hand…”
Leo, engrossed in his own beauty ritual, didn’t realize his rangy mane had been eyed for takeover. Lucky for him, Django’s attention swung a hundred and eighty as his assistant brought in a small tray with two large shot glasses on it. “First we drink, then we create!”
After setting the tray down, his assistant balanced two spoons, cradling a cube of sugar each, over the green liqueur. Absinthe shots were another one of those Ozzie novelties cultivated to add to the mystique of the island.
As the assistant turned to face the camera, I recognized her as Michelle Lovelace. Everyone called her Mickie. She was casually dressed in ripped capri jeans and a simple white T-shirt, but paired it with full makeup and retro pin-up girl hair. Her platinum bangs were dyed purple and rolled into a tube wave that rivaled the Banzai pipeline.
Where most Caribbean resorts went the traditional route of tropical-colored uniforms and conservative, cookie-cutter staff, Ozzies valued creative displays of individuality. It was a drastic contrast to Zaki’s formal traditions, which he himself appeared to hold onto.
Django motioned to Mickie, who proceeded to lower the lights for added drama. After some machinations, she handed the now-flaming green shots to Thea and Django. Upon knocking his back, Django let loose a warrior’s cry. Mickie took the cue to brandish two miniature samurai swords that had been sheathed in her lavender-colored bun. She presented them to Django, who immediately began slash cutting Thea’s hair like a crazed samurai.
“Oh, hell no,” Nik growled. Wheeling to go save his girl, he collided with Omar Zaki’s image. Nik spun, slicing the visual with some decent jujitsu moves. “What in the actual fuck?”
“Chill,” I said with a laugh. “It’s not a spiderweb, Steele.”
Nik spun back around, swiping through the visual again, this time more slowly. “What the fuck is it?”
“It’s a hologram.”
“But he looks so real?”
“Stop groping it, perv.” I slapped his hand back before he sliced it through Zaki’s stomach again, then hit the button to turn the spa mic off. “Sir, I want to introduce you to Nikolas Steele. As you’re aware, he’ll be accompanying me on the dive.”
