1
Aran
Whatdoyoudoif you discovered a conspiracy that could end up changing the world? What if it threatened the fickle balance between rich and poor, and gave those with power the ultimate weapon to enslave the rest of us? And what if those same bigshots who were directly involved in it were meeting on a secret cruise ship?
Rain patters against the windshield of my taxi when I arrive at the port. I tip the driver, grab my duffle bag and head to the assembly point in front of the St. August, which is lit up like a Christmas tree even though it’s the middle of September.
The shitty weather forecast for this month won’t really matter for the luxurious cruise. The behemoth of a ship will sail toward Australia for the next two weeks, with scheduled stops at a couple of small islands the likes of which you only ever see on TV.
“Everyone, line up!” the frowning man with the red bandana wrapped around his tricep yells at us. “Badge check! Then we are boarding! The St. August will depart in twenty minutes.”
I glance at the giant coffin that will be my home for a while. Nerves dance in my stomach, twisting it into a knot. I’m not a fan of sailing. Or cruising. I prefer land or air. But no one even asked me. I had no choice but to come. It was whatherequested in exchange for helping us.
And we really,reallyneeded his help. We’d still be twiddling our thumbs otherwise.
You see, if you askedhimthose questions I’ve been mulling over since we stumbled onto the drug play that the five percent who rule the world are planning to make, he’d grin and tell you that these evil assholes must be stopped. We don’t know what exactly they want to do with the drug, but it can’t be anything good. The only silver lining is that they have an incomplete prototype and not the final product—the formula for it is with us, safely locked away in a secure location so that it doesn’t end up in the wrong hands.
Still, these people don’t give up easily, so we can’t let things go unchecked. They have money and resources on their side, making it only a matter of time and trial and error before they synthesize the compound needed to unlock the brainwashing capability of the drug. If this sounds like a horror story, it’s because it is one.
A loud clang sounds from the ship. It could be the crew getting ready for departure, or it could be something breaking… Or someone causing that something to break…God, I hope he stayed put like I instructed him to.I don’t even want to imagine what he might be up to if he didn’t. It’s never anything good.
“You!” the cruise’s Chief of Security, Richard Bates, shoves his ugly bearded mug in my face. His deep accent betrays he’s from a southern US state, but all I can say is that it’s not Texas. “Stop spacing out! Name and post!”
“Aran Suwannarat. Deck Security Supervisor,” I recite in a monotone voice, clasping my hands behind me.
He scowls even more. “Suwan…rat! Pay attention. This is a very high-profile cruise, and I won’t allow any slip-ups. Am I clear?”
“It’s Suwannarat,” I correct him.
His beady eyes narrow even further. I don’t think he appreciates my comment. But as the one in command, he’s supposed to at least know the names of those who report directly to him, at the very least for security reasons. There is the part where he’s never seen me before—I’m the last-minutesubstitutefor the previous guy who became incapacitated under mysterious circumstances three days ago. The company he was contracted from sent over my file though, so Richard Bates should have skimmed through it.
I open my mouth to explain that, but as Richard clenches his jaw and glares at me like I’m a wart that needs immediate surgical removal, I decide to spare him the lecture. I have no business antagonizing him further and I need to remember that I am not in charge here. For the duration of this cruise, I’m not the Chief Security Officer of the Akiyama Group—I’m here undercover as a security supervisor, and I have a mission I must complete at all costs.
Clearing my throat, I rock my heels. “Understood, sir.”
The constipated expression he’s wearing lets up a little, at least until he’s moved onto the man next to me. The ship’s horn screeches, piercing the dark and misty morning. Richard is unfazed and continues to berate his way through our ranks. At this rate, I worry if we will make it on time.
But we do, just barely.
The first shift rushes to their posts when we board. I won’t be needed until the briefing in two hours, so I head to the crew quarters where my cabin is. The closer I get, the more stuffy my black and gray suit becomes. Prickles cover my skin, itchy and annoying.
I take a deep breath and grace the retreating shore with one final quick glance. Everything will be fine. The ship is intact and moving. I didn’t see any reports about anyone getting tossed off it. We’ll be smooth sailing from now on.
Still, leavinghimunsupervised like this for extended periods of time makes the hairs on my neck stand. And that is before I even consider how his father must be rolling in his grave because I agreed to go along with this crazy plan.
Take another deep breath. Everything is fine. Don’t overthink and stress over things until you actually need to.
All cabin doors are ID-controlled. They house between three and four people, with only a couple of them accommodating pairs. That kind is reserved for the senior staff and supervisors, and it was a giant headache securing one. It’s why I hold the position of Deck Supervisor, or else I wouldn’t have been eligible. As for my ‘roommate’…
I pause at the door, my stomach churning. I don’t know what he did exactly to cause the giant mess that ended up placing us together. Kitchen staff and security just aren’t supposed to mingle, but I know better than to question the way he does things. It makes my head hurt more often than not.
Scanning my staff ID, I push the door and slip inside the cabin. The narrow hallway is dim and the smell of cotton candy wafts out from the open bathroom. The stuffy humidity of a recent shower sticks to my skin. I loosen the collar of my shirt and swallow.
I don’t like this.
I don’t like this one bit.
When I reach the lounge, I pause at the door. If I remember his schedule correctly, his break should’ve just ended. The coast should be clear.
