Page 56 of Body and Soul

I frowned. “I’m afraid I’m not a member, but I do have this.” I carefully extracted the embossed ace of spades card, handing it over.

The attendant glanced at the card, then at me, then back at the card briefly before handing it back. “Right away, sir. If you’ll follow me?”

I stepped into the waiting elevator, the attendant following close behind. The doors slid shut with a muted hiss, encasing us in a gilded box of mirrors and marble. The attendant inserted a small gold key into the panel and pressed the button for the top floor. The elevator began its smooth ascent, the floor numbers flashing by on the digital display above the doors. Classical music played, doing little to ease my tension.

The elevator glided to a stop, and the doors opened with a chime, revealing a small foyer. Unlike the opulence of the lobby below, this space was understated elegance with muted lighting, rich wood paneling, and a single display of white orchids in a sleek glass vase.

The attendant stepped out and gestured for me to follow. “Right this way, sir.”

He led me down a short hallway to a set of double doors. With a practiced flourish, he grasped the brass handles and pushed the doors open, revealing the inner sanctum of Echelon.

The dining room was a study in restrained luxury with crisp white linens, sparkling crystal, and polished silverware. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around the circular space, offering a breathtaking three hundred sixty-degree view of the Columbus skyline. The midday sun streamed in, glinting off the crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling.

Quiet conversations hummed beneath the soft strains of a live string quartet tucked discreetly in the corner. The clientele wasas polished as the décor, boasting men in bespoke suits and women dripping in diamonds. Power and wealth perfumed the air as thick as the aroma of seared meat and exotic spices.

A tuxedoed maître d' approached. “How may I assist you today?”

I withdrew the card from my suit pocket and presented it again, watching the man's eyes widen fractionally as he took in the embossed spade. “I believe I'm expected.”

“Of course, sir. Right this way.” The maître d' led me through the maze of tables toward the back of the restaurant, where a single table sat apart from the others, positioned in front of a wall of windows overlooking the glittering expanse of the Scioto River.

As we approached the secluded table, I took in the man already seated there, dining alone. He was older than me, but not by much, with dark hair and a strong jaw. Piercing blue eyes gleamed with intelligence.

He wore a pale gray suit impeccably tailored to his fit frame, the fabric so fine it almost shimmered in the sunlight pouring through the windows. A crimson pocket square added a splash of color, matching the cabochon ruby cufflinks glinting at his wrists. A heavy gold Rolex peeked out from under his cuff as he lifted a crystal glass of amber liquid to his lips.

There was an air of casual elegance about him, a confidence and ease that came from being unquestionably at the top of the food chain. This was a man accustomed to power, to getting what he wanted. And right now, his laser focus was trained on me.

The maître d' came to a stop beside the table. “Your guest has arrived, sir.”

The man smiled, setting down his glass. “Ah, Dr. Laskin! Please, have a seat. I’m so glad you could join me today!” He gestured to the empty chair across from him.

I pulled it out and sat. “I was made to understand I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Come now, Doctor. The illusion of choice is the domain of the lower class. Men like us, we do as we must.” He gestured to someone behind me. “Will you take wine with your lunch, Doctor Laskin?”

“I’d rather know who it is I’m having lunch with,” I replied with muted irritation.

The man smiled as the sommelier appeared to fill our glasses. “Ah, yes. Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Algerone Caisse-Etremont.”

“Should I know that name?” I said, unimpressed.

“I know you,” he said, with no small amount of smugness. “But no. No one knows who I am, and as long as I do my job, it should stay that way. Except, of course, for those who need to know. Normally, I’d conduct business such as this through proxies and messengers, but I felt this warranted a more…personal touch.”

“How do you know about my sister?” I demanded.

Algerone smirked. “In good time, Doctor. We should set the stage first, shouldn’t we? You did, after all, ask who I was.”

I leaned back in my chair, studying Algerone with narrowed eyes. “By all means then, Mr. Caisse-Etremont. Enlighten me.”

He swirled the wine in his glass, the ruby liquid catching the light. “In simplest terms, I am the CEO of a multi-national covert operations firm. We specialize in... delicate matters that require a certain finesse and discretion. Assassinations, high-stakes thefts, rescue missions—the sort of work that governments and corporations need done but cannot do themselves, you understand?”

I fought to keep the revulsion from my face. “You're a mercenary.”

“Please, Doctor. Mercenary is such an ugly word. I prefer to think of myself as a businessman. A facilitator, if you will, inthe gray areas where legality blurs.” He sipped his wine, blue eyes shimmering. “The world is not so black and white as people like to believe. Sometimes, bad things must be done for good reasons. That is where we come in.”

“And what does any of this have to do with me?”

Algerone set down his wine glass and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the pristine tablecloth. “It has come to my attention that your sister, Daniella, has become entangled with a certain... organization. A cult, to be precise.”

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