“The Ball” is the second installment of “The Jane Doe Chronicles,” a mystery series following Jane Doe as she struggles to escape from the Company, an assassin training school–where she was the top student–and as she attempts to piece together the story of her past, dodging a few bullets and making some unlikely friends along the way. If you missed the first chapter, you can check it out here.
I sank deeper into the soft leather of the office chair and took in
the boardroom that I was sitting in. A large aquarium glowed at the
other end of the table with exotic fish swimming about in its depths.
The soft strum of violins and cellos floated through the walls from
the ballroom I had just left.
With a sweep of my hand, I knocked the blonde wig off of my head and
let my dark hair tumble down my back. How John Smith talked me into
this get up, I will never know. I closed my eyes and pinched the
bridge of my nose as a small migraine made itself known. I thought
back to the last half of the conversation I had with Smith the week
before in the small café.
…….
“Very well, Mr. Smith,” I say, watching the boy place the receipt in
front of my new acquaintance. “Tell me more about this venture of
yours.”
He handed me a small white card with a teal bow tied on top and thin
black script across the top. You are cordially invited to the 40th
Annual Grand Oil Industries Anniversary Ball.
“Grand Oil? As in the biggest oil refinery company in the world?” I asked.
“The one and the same, little Janie.” Damn him with his constantly
reappearing smirk and constant nicknames. I ignore the comments I want
to make about the name and ask what Grand Oil wants in the first
place.
“Patience Janie,” he said, reaching his hands into his pocket to pull
out a few ten-dollar bills and a white envelope. He put the money on
the table and passed the envelope to me. “Come to the party and all
will be revealed in time.”
With one last sip of his coffee, he stood up from the table and began
to weave his way through the restraint without as much as a goodbye. I
looked curiously at the bulging envelope and glimpsed at what was
inside. I gaped at what I saw.
Thumbing through the hundred-dollar bills, I counted about a thousand
of them. $100,000 was sitting in this man’s pocket and he handed it to
me like it was no big deal. I got up from my seat and called out to
him.
“What the hell is this?”
“Consider it incentive,” he responded with a wave of his hand. He
strutted out of the restaurant and disappeared in the river of
pedestrians. I looked back down at the cash in my hand. If this was
the incentive, what was the real pay off? My decision cementing in my
head as I thought of my life on the run living off next to nothing and
breaking into motel rooms to have a decent place to sleep at night.
I had no choice but to take this job.
…….
I used that money to help pay for my dress for tonight’s event, a
silky blue gown that made me look like I had just stepped out of
ancient Greece. My blonde wig had been done-up in a braid that wrapped
around to look like a golden crown. It gave me a boost of confidence,
but didn’t draw too much attention. That was left to the gossiping
wives with deeper necklines.
The ball had been in full swing when I arrived making it easy to get
lost among the other guests. I had attempted to look as if I were
enjoying myself in carefree bliss, but an instinctual feeling kept a
knot in the bottom of my stomach. Since entering the ballroom in the
high-class hotel owned by Grand Oil’s CEO Thomas Reynolds, the feeling
of watching eyes followed me throughout the party. That was why I was
glad to find this little conference room.
It wasn’t long, however, that my peaceful bubble was popped by the
sound of something hitting the metal air shafts. I closed my eyes and
concentrated on my breathing just as I had been taught by my sensei at
Company. Another bang followed the first.
Game on.
Kicking up the chair next to me, I caught the legs in my hands and
thrust it toward the ceiling. It hit with just enough force to crack
through the Styrofoam tiles and break the aluminum tunnel in two. My
follower tumbled out in surprise.
Before he could recover, I kicked him across the face, knocking him
unconscious. Too easy, I thought to myself, waiting for something else
to happen.
I looked at the sleeping man and inspected him. He wore a black mask
to hide his face along with black shoes and a black tuxedo. Obviously,
he had been posing as a guest. I knelt down next to him, but as I went
to lift the mask I heard a small click. The small sound was quickly
followed by the hiss of smoke coming from the soles of his dress
shoes, white and odorless.
The second I inhaled the gas, my head began to spin. Gripping to
consciousness, I stumbled out of the room, slamming the door behind
me. My head immediately began to clear again as fresh air hit my
lungs. However, my moment of comfort didn’t last long.
When I turned away from the door, I was met with the sight of three
men dressed similarly to the man I just left behind.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath with a
sigh. My mind worked to try and choose a target, but the bigger
assailant in the center made the choice for me by lunging head on. I
ducked and uncoiled my back as he flew over me, forcing him to slam
into the wall behind me and crack his head on the marble floor.
He was followed by the one to my left who tried to sneak up while I
was flipping his comrade and tried to cut me with a knife. I caught
his wrist and twisted it to the side so he would be forced to release
his grip on the weapon. After landing a quick punch to his face, I
kicked just next to his side and hit the other assailant in the groin
as he stepped up behind his partner. Bored of the antics, I flipped
the man whose wrist I held and watched as he landed directly on the
other, forcing them to hit the ground.
I quickly scanned my handy work. The first man was thankfully still
alive by the looks of his chest as it fell with a deep breath, just
unconscious. The same could not be said about the man at the bottom of
the pile at my feet. A groan echoed through the room as I tried to
push the sleeping body of the other off of him. With a swift kick to
the head, he joined his friend in slumber.
Looking around to make sure nobody else was in the hall, I patted down
my dress for wrinkles. I touched the top of my head and was
disappointed that I had left my wig in the conference room. Damn, I
thought. I had to figure something out quickly.
Spotting the attacker’s knife nearby, I picked it up and looked down
at my dress. I cut the bunched up fabric that held the dress up and
tied it behind my neck, making it a halter. Trying to figure out what
else to do, I untied the cord wrapped around my waist and secured it
just under my bust.
Hoping that these were enough minor changes to make the dress look a
little different, I ran my fingers through my hair and began to make
my way back to the party. Before I could go very far, I was frozen by
the sound of a slow applause behind me.
I turned on my heel to see a smirking John Smith and a portly old man
approaching me with expressions of admiration.
“Didn’t I tell you, Mr. O’Connell?” John said, patting the man on the
back. “This one’s a little firecracker.”
“It would seem, Mr. Smith. Not one fatality either, which is quite
impressive,” commented Mr. O’Connell. John took a step forward and
gently nudged me forward toward the older man, presenting me as if I
were cattle at a fair.
“Janie, this is Mr. George O’Connell. He is the…”
“The CEO of Grand Oil Industries. Yes, I know who he is Mr. Smith…and
don’t call me Janie,” I finish for him. Extending my arm to shake Mr.
O’Connell’s hand.
“Ah, I think she’ll do quite well, Mr. Smith. She doesn’t look like
she’d hurt a fly and yet…,” Mr. O’Connell chuckled.
“I must agree with you, sir. She would surely be perfect for the job.
A wonderful choice.”
I huffed. I was getting agitated with these two men. I felt like
something on display.
“Would one of you two mind telling me what this assignment might be?”
Two heads turned toward me with calculating smirks on their faces and
a gleam in their eyes that sent a shiver up my spine. A manila
envelope was pushed into my hands by Mr. Smith. I opened it carefully,
slipping the pages from their confines. The words “Top Secret” were
stamped across the top page in bright red ink. In bold letters on the
top, there was the name of a company.
“Artemis Industries?” I read, looking the two men in front of me.
John swaggered closer to me, taking another one of his little
envelopes from his jacket pocket.
“What do you think about a little sabotage, Janie?” he asked as he
held the page in front of my eyes so I could see it. The first thing I
saw was my face staring back me and the company logo next to it.
Company documents. My company documents, with all of the information
about my life at the academy and possibly….my past, I thought,
reaching out to grab the paper only to have it moved out of my reach
by Mr. Smith.
I looked up into his taunting face and took a deep breath before
making a smirk that matched Smith’s.
“A little sabotage sounds like fun, Mr. Smith.”