Extraction by Marcus Richardson

Author:Marcus Richardson [Richardson, Marcus]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Freeholder Press, LLC

21

Metamorphosis

Isle of Man, United Kingdom

Jayne eyed the monitors positioned over her recovery bed. The surgery had been a success, according to the doctors. It better have been, for the amount of money she’d paid them. The situation in Moscow…that was another matter. Braaten was proving to be a more resourceful opponent than she’d expected.

She frowned, looking at the shaky video feed from Mikhailovich’s dacha, just outside the western suburbs of Moscow. The bratva had already failed to take down Braaten in the Ambassador’s Residence. They had surprise and numbers on their side, and still the former SEAL had slipped through and eradicate the team sent to take him out.

She clenched her hands and squeezed the armrests on her custom recovery bed/chair. The damn thing was far too soft for her likes, but she didn’t figure on being bedridden much longer. She had board meetings to run and teleconferences with the heads of some of her recent acquisitions—especially the aerospace company, Orbital Dynamics. They were ready to launch the world’s first self-replicating satellite as a proof-of-concept and she was excited to see the launch in person.

Two weeks to heal from facial reconstructive surgery…no one ever said this job would be easy…

Jayne brushed her fingertips across the gauze on her face. She had taken a glimpse in the mirror in the bathroom attached to her recovery suite and almost laughed. She resembled a rather disheveled blonde mummy.

Jayne sighed, welcoming the ache in her cheeks. The temporary prosthetics she’d worn to the consortium board meeting in Geneva were permanent now, altering her facial structure to fool even the latest facial recognition algorithms used by the CIA.

Have to color my hair now too, I suppose…wonder if I’ll even recognize myself?

She wasn’t a natural blonde, but had taken on the guise of the blonde haired, blue-eyed sex machine for so long, it seemed beyond strange to appear as anything else. Lisa Melton, President and CEO of Jaynesway Industries, however, was a hazel-eyed brunette. Jayne had wanted green eyes, but MacTavish had impressed upon her the desirability of a concept he called “going gray.”

Thinking of the argument made her mouth twitch, sending a spike of pain up the side of her face. “Green eyes always made an impression on people,” he’d argued, “but the brown-eyed lass is just another woman, ye ken?”

Jayne snorted. She kenned she’d never be “just another woman,” so she chose a hazel color for her eyes that was so flecked with gold as to appear almost amber. The laser treatment was painless—the doctor’s assured her—and would be the last step in her transformation. They wanted her to heal from the facial reconstruction first.

Restless, she put her hands back on the plush armrests and strummed her fingers, tapping out a random beat as her eyes narrowed and she focused on the monitor. The display showed Mikhailovich’s strongman laying into the American Ambassador with gusto. Even through the grainy image, she could see blood splatter with every hit of those hammock fists. She ignored

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