FGI 7: The Siren Prisoner

JENSEN

I moan.

Then I blink, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

“Boss Daddy! Look!”

I groan as I blink more, stumbling to the left as my eyes focus. “What…” I take a deep breath. My heart is now pounding so hard, it might beat through my chest. “Holy fuck.”

Impossible.

Unreal.

I swipe a gloved hand down my face, slowing my breathing. I slowly gaze around, feeling the salty wind beating against me, and intense excitement floods through me like never before.

“This is Boaba Bay!” I hear Dolly exclaim, but I’m too busy taking it in, not believing my eyes.

“No fucking shit,” I whisper, a slow smile spreading over my lips.

It’s nighttime, and the moonlight casts its brilliance over the sea, making it look like rippling glass. I stand on a cliff’s edge, overlooking this world’s majesty.

The moon, or whatever planet it is, looks enormous, and I can see distant waves crashing below, the sound breaking through my brain fog.

“Pinch me,” I order Dolly breathlessly.

I suddenly feel something hard bash against me, and intense pain engulfs my shoulder, shocking me. I shoot Dolly a look, and my mouth drops open. I finally take her in.

Damn.

She resembles a creepy dockside whore, with one tooth missing and makeup in disarray. She’s holding a long silver pistol.

“Did you just hit me with that?!”

Dolly immediately laughs, bending at the waist, looking like her crazy self as she raises up to meet my narrowed glare, gasping for breath.

“You should see your face!”

She herself looks like a demented human version of her natural form. She has two long, blond braids and cleavage everywhere in her ratty scarlet gown, paired with a large gun strap at her hips.

Holy shit. She’d give that blond witch from Hocus Pocus a run for her money.

“Think you’re alive now, Big Daddy? Want me to hit you again?” She looks excited at the prospect—and disturbingly turned on.

“No,” I say quickly, hiding my grin as I feel the wind pick up. “You’re insane, Dolly. And that coming from me is impressive.”

“Thank you!” she squeals, eyes wide with excitement and licking her lips. “This is going to be so fun!”

I sigh and look out over this alien land in complete awe, wondering what my first plan of action will be. Three months is all I have to find this impostor, and I’m going to have fun with it.

Dolly stands next to me with a little grin on her face, then looks at me. “This is just the beginning. Did Pierce tell you about the lifelines?”

“Yes.” I look at her with a raised eyebrow. “‘Lifeline activate,’ right?”

Dolly nods.

I’m about to ask her a question when the ground starts to rumble loudly, as if hit by something.

We both frown. “What was that?” I ask, backing up.

Dolly’s eyes widen as she touches her ear, stumbling to the right from the tremors. Her left hand moves like she’s typing. Or playing the air piano?

“Daddy!” she yells, looking at me with so much fear in her full gaze. “Run! Code red! Back up! We are being fired at!”

I hear a deafening crack. “What the fuck!” I yell, feeling the ground start to give way as my pulse hammers from pure adrenaline.

I look at the ground and see it literally crack before my eyes. The sound is thunderous.

I try to jump backward, but there is suddenly a loud, crashing BOOM! And everything happens so fast—too fast.

I’m falling with Dolly, our voices mixing together as we yell, becoming airborne as rock and solid ground are no more.

Well, fuck.

“Lifeline activaaaaatee!”

***

I hear sounds.

“Are you awake, Jensen?”

I blink, feeling slightly discombobulated. Groaning again, I see that I’m sitting on a white couch. Back at Fairy Godmother Inc., if I were to make an educated guess.

I curse as I realize what happened, closing my eyes for a minute with a rude smile. “What the fuck was that?”

I had used a damn lifeline in the first five minutes.

A woman stands in front of me with bizarre-colored eyes, pinkish-purple. “I’m April. I, uh, Pierce will be here soon. The head pain will subside shortly. Sorry, coffee?”

I nod, glancing around, then back at April, which instantly piques my interest and curiosity. I almost laugh at how nerdy a cliché she presents.

I tilt my head as I watch her. Her cheeks pinken at my sudden interest in her, and her eyes slowly move to meet mine. “Pierce will be here soon,” she repeats, smiling a little.

“You said that.”

She shakes her head, laughing. “Right, I know. It’s just that Pierce is not happy. Livid, actually. He’s always so calm, so it’s”—she makes a face—“a little scary when he gets mad.”

I raise a brow. “Mad at the lifeline we used? That was hardly my fault.”

We spawned right when an explosive hit the cliffside…

“I know. There, I guess, was a mix-up in paperwork and clearance for the extraction.” She makes a funny face, rolling her eyes and waving one of her arms.

“A mix-up?”

April looks distracted, like she’s watching something outside the glass wall of this room, before responding.

“Yeah.” She glances at me. “It’s so ridiculous. FGI is under so many restrictions, and if they make one stupid mistake, they make it seem like Zora and Pierce are incompetent, which is absurd!

“Pierce is brilliant. He never makes mistakes! Sure, his methods can be maddening, but he is a ~genius~. We have been having a lot of issues lately, especially with the beta missions.”

She pauses, and I can see the frustration on her face as she lowers her voice.

“Everything started happening when Zora’s nephew came on board to monitor beta and alpha missions because the council demanded FGI hire more surveillance, wanting transparency.

“They have been trying to take over the alpha missions and the company for eons. Really pisses me off!” She reddens. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be venting!”

April covers her mouth, realizing she probably should not be telling me these things.

“Vent away, April,” I encourage her, finding the information interesting. “So, who is this nephew? Should I kill him for you?”

She laughs. A very pretty laugh, light and airy. “Vincent,” April says, like it’s an evil curse and someone should scream in horror when the name is uttered.

“Ahhh,” I say thoughtfully. I can read between the lines. “This Vincent may be sabotaging things?”

“Yes.” April looks me dead in the eyes, and I am surprised to see her eyes slowly morph into a bluish color.

“He is second in command on the council. Very powerful. He’s their golden boy. I hate him. But everyone else loves him. He’s fake, and I feel like I’m the only one who can see it!

“Well, and Zoya hates him. And I know for a fact Pierce can’t stand him. He wants to be Pierce.” She looks out of the glass wall. “He is jealous of Pierce.”

I nod, looking thoughtful, liking this nerdy April. “I read people very well too. I’d trust your gut. The guy sounds like a douche.”

“I don’t know what a douche is, but it sounds like him, and I do,” she hisses, crossing her arms over her unflattering gray suit coat and leaning against the wall.

“Thanks for listening. Pierce will be here soon, and Dolly is with the staff for a quick screening.”

She rolls her eyes, expelling a breath. I raise a brow, studying her. I can’t help it; it’s what I do.

I look at the lines of her delicate face under her large glasses. Then I glance at her clothing, which looks expensive, but not the right shape and size.

She looks like she could be curvy, and I would not be surprised if she were hiding a hot-ass body under that getup.

I can read her very easily—she is overkill with her attire. It’s odd.

I look at everyone else through the glass wall. Everyone not wearing a lab coat is impeccably dressed, their clothes tailored to a T.

I glance at April, guessing that she is higher up because she is with me in this room. Why in the world is she wearing what she is?

I mean, I normally do not analyze assistants, but she immediately caught my eye for how ridiculous she looks. I was studying people with Bruna before I could read. It’s ingrained in me.

I examine her face. Beautiful bone structure, not to mention her exotic eye color. But the ugly glasses are all anyone ever notices.

“April,” I say as she slowly turns her head to look at me, like she knew I was studying her.

“Do you want coffee?” she asks in a light voice.

I don’t have time to beat around the bush. “You’re hiding with your silly getup. Why? Past trauma? Social anxiety? Image dysmorphia?”

I wince at my own words, sounding like fucking Bruna. April blanches, face turning bright red.

Before she responds, there’s a commotion outside. I see Pierce through the glass, walking with a handful of people and looking upset.

Damn, April was right. The cool-and-collected Pierce is livid.

April looks terrified and goes to stand in the corner, head down, as the door opens. Pierce is touching his earpiece as he walks in.

“Override it! I want clearance now!” He looks at me and then at the wall behind me as he listens. “Tell him to go to hell. Get me clearance now.”

I quirk a brow.

Pierce sighs and glances at me. “Not what you were expecting in the first five minutes,” he says to me. “You will get your lifeline back.”

“That is against the rules, Pierce,” came a man’s voice from the doorway. “That is a violation of Code R—”

“R1452,” Pierce interrupts, turning to face the man with a smug expression. “Don’t insult my intelligence. He will get his lifeline back. This was not his fault.”

Silence in the room.

I chuckle inwardly. Ironically, the man with blond hair looks like a weird knockoff of Pierce. He’s not as tall, not as handsome, and he definitely does not hold himself with authority like Pierce.

He must be the fucktard, Vincent. Interesting. I do a quick analysis.

He has dark eyes—not like Pierce’s, so it makes me think this douche is actually dying his hair blond. It’s definitely not natural. A dazzling fake smile stains his tanned face.

Damn, April is right. I glance at her, and she gives me a look. It happened so fast, but I read it loud and clear. ~This is our guy.~

Vincent’s eyes widen in mockery. “You signed off on the extraction. I’m sorry, this is how the game is played. You make a mistake, and your agents suffer.

“If you need more help in the Alpha Department so you can just focus on fashion, I can make that happen—”

Pierce slams Vincent up against the wall, holding him with impressive strength. His fist is around Vincent’s collar.

“He will get his lifeline back. I did no such thing as sign off on that extraction,” he says rather calmly, which makes him seem more dangerous.

All right, respect to Pierce. I’d be lying if I said I was not having fun watching this.

“I have a new extraction. Now if you will excuse me while I do my job,” Pierce hisses, letting the asswipe go.

Vincent’s feet hit the ground, and his face is flushed with embarrassment as he straightens his suit and tie. I grin. It looks like little Vincent did a poopy in his pants with that expression.

“HR will hear about this, Pierce. Mark my words. Your days are numbered if you act like an animal. Everyone is replaceable,” he threatens, leaving with a couple of men following him in his wake.

On his way out, Vincent accidentally shoulder checks the doorframe, and he curses and yells at a few people in front of him like it was their fault.

Pierce watches him go, hands on his hips. “Pam, I want extraction now. I have uploaded the coordinates. Get a hold of Dion before Vincent and the Legacy Association can intervene.”

I quirk a brow at April’s flushed expression and Pierce’s use of her wrong name. “Y-yes, sir!”

I chuckle at Pierce’s tactics, liking him more and more. Being here at FGI is very entertaining. I’m almost sad to go and miss out on all the Vincent drama.

He glances at me, studying me. “You ready to do this again?”

“Fuck yes,” I say calmly, adjusting my eye patch and stretching my arms. “Trouble in paradise, I see.”

Pierce smiles, but I can tell he does not find this funny. “Of course you can see,” he agrees. “Jensen, I need you to make big moves. They do not want me to win this mission.”

He walks up to me, and I can see the emotion in his gaze.

“I need you to be aggressive and fuck the rules,” he whispers. “They want to take you out because you were my pick. And that fool knows I’m always right with my picks.”

I was his pick?

Wait.

Always right? On what account? Winning?

“I put you with Dolly for a reason,” Pierce continues. “Now go and find my mole. I’m placing you in the perfect position to make a mark for yourself.”

“What does that mean?” I ask carefully, bracing myself.

His mouth quirks.

“That is for you to decide. I need you, Jensen, to blow everything out of the water. I have my suspicions that one of our players is working for the Legacy Association to mess with this mission.”

“Ahh, the plot thickens,” I murmur. “Your wish is my command.”

I have a couple of guesses on who the traitor is.

“Be careful. Because you’re a target merely because I picked you,” Pierce warns, touching his ear again.

I shrug. “Not scared, Pierce, trust me.” I feel this crazy need to defend Pierce and his company, even though I just met him. I crack my neck. “Ready.”

“Okay.” Pierce grins, straightens, and touches his ear. “I’m helping you out on placement. Two can play this game.”

Pierce points at April. “You—is Dion ready? What’s your name again?”

Her eyes widen, hands flying over her virtual pad. “Oh! Uh, April, sir! Yes, in five! Oh, shoot!” she shrieks. “Extraction is now. Sorry!”

Pierce says something, but all I see is blackness.