One year ago...
Thame grudgingly rolls out of bed, his hotel room almost pitch black thanks to a heavy curtain cocooning him from the world. One more day on his work trip to Italy before he extends his stay for a little break. While his colleagues have already headed home, he has one last meeting to get through. A new client is always exciting, but the multitude of learning meetings necessary to get going were always a chore, especially at a large auto firm abroad.
Deep in Northern Italy, he pulls open the curtain and surveys Turin's famous basilica, spire and giant snow-capped mountains. As much as the Mole Antonelliana demanded attention like a spoilt child, he felt a deep connection with those soaring mountains. He was in awe. Knowing he was straight off to the airport, he stood naked, just breathing them in, quietly surveying the intricate shadows and ridges created by the morning sun.
He knew this final meeting was important and wondered why it wasn't it a team thing. Even though it was his area of expertise, he thought it strange for him to be singled out.
Eventually he showered, threw all his belongings into a carry-on case, and headed to breakfast.
Upon arriving for his meeting, now wide awake and in business mode, Thame headed to reception. The normal greetings ensued and the receptionist told him she was to take him up. His instinct was prickling - something wasn't quite right, although he couldn't put his finger on what.
"You must be excited," enthused the receptionist, speaking with a heavy Italian accent and a tone full of adrenalin.
"Why's that?"
"You're meeting the big boss. She's never normally here in person, so today is very special. We're all really pleased."
"Am I? I thought it was one last stakeholder meeting."
"They don't get much bigger than her."
Thame smiles and goes through the courtesies as he's escorted into a lift and eventually a room on the top floor. Drinks sit waiting in the room, and he starts setting up his laptop to connect to the screen and notepad.
He hadn't noticed that the receptionist had gone off the normal route, and realises he's in a standalone section to the side of the central complex. He flips his phone open and tries to search this so-called "big boss" but gets nothing. Thame switches to high alert. He'd suspected something was off, but had put it down to a long day. However, He had definitely picked up on it. It was similar to the feeling he had with Sir Henry but less intense. It wasn't him, at least, he thought as his amulet began to glow.
Thame stood up and made himself a boiling hot drink that could double up as a potential weapon if he needed it to. In truth, he was pulsing with adrenalin and needed to move around to control his fervour.
The Cult. It had to be. They'd been far too quiet since Sir Henry passed and the threat to them nullified.
He saw the light change through the opaque glass doors as a lift opened. Out strode a confident, purposeful and dominant feminine shape, heading straight for the room. Thame prepared himself, either to fight or shake hands and kick off the meeting.
When she opened the door, Thame's now lead-heavy feet planted deep into the floor. He would be doing neither.
"Hello, dear boy. How are you?" The older woman, distinctly Mediterranean and dressed in a power suit, commanded attention. Because of her dress and her presence, but also because Thame had met her before.
"You? In charge of this place? I guess I know how we won you as a client."
"How long has it been? Must be a few years now."
"Must be. What do you want?"
"Now, now. Let's not be so aggressive. I know who you really are, I know you can leave when you want. I just want to have a meeting. I'm a stakeholder in you, after all."
"I told you in Croatia to leave me and Isabella alone."
"And so I did, but time has moved on." She sits down and nonchalantly flicks her wrist, motioning for him to join her.
"You've felt something of your brother, haven't you?"
"Of Lohikaarme. Maybe. He isn't my brother."
"Now, now Ormr. Don't be so tetchy!"
"What do you lot want now?"
"How's Isabella?"
"Don't know. We're not together anymore."
"Shame. I liked her, Thame. She was good for you. From the first time I saw her, I liked her. So inherently strong."
"You knew that anyway." Thame jolts upright at the suggestion of knowing Isabella.
"It's not surprising though, that she left you on that trip and you haven't spoken since," she casually tosses away, as the memory grabs Thame by the stomach. "Right, anyway my boy, we have business to talk about."
"Work? Really?"
"Not your job, what I tried to get you to do back then. We need you back, Ormr."
"My name is Thame."
"Yes, yes, yes. We haven't really moved on have we?"
"I have," Thame stresses. "I've continued to build a life for myself and I don't need you lot anymore. Sir Henry is gone."
"My lot? I told you before that I'm not a part of that organisation. I was, of course, thirty odd years ago. But I left. Dragan replaced me! You remember him."
Thame's irritation smothers his body language and he gathers his things briskly.
"My name is Thame. Not Ormr, not my Lord, definitely not 'my boy'. Leave me and my friends alone. I have no interest in you or whatever you want."
She watches and smiles.
"The deal is the same as it was." She concludes.
"A couple of years ago you stalked me, ruined my holiday, interrupted me with some ridiculous scheme and I don't know why, but I think you broke Isabella and I up." Thame announces, trying to figure her out.
"A couple of years ago I found you, Ormr. I treated you with reverence and asked to serve you. However, the man was too strong and not prepared to do what is needed. We must unite the House, your brother and you together ruling this whole land. Remove these business barriers, combine your interests and merge into one."
"He's dead. I'm just the man. You're insane. What can't you understand?"
"I had to rework my current plan as you don't come around that often, Ormr. This is our chance to live forever."
Our, thought Thame. He didn't understand that but was drawn back into the conversation before he could linger on it.
"The new plan is actually easier, but means we need to act fast. A dangerous man who was The Intern now runs the company and the Cult have moved on from you, Ormr. We must reestablish our base, weed out the non-believers or the selfish and ..."
"I just need to live my life without any of this bullshit. I don't care. Leave me alone. I told you once, I'm telling you again and it'll be the last time."
"Do you think you're safe now? You killed his father figure, you pose a risk to those in power, your own supporters, and you've fully rejected them. How long before a sniper picks off that sad human head?"
"It's been years and nothing. Everyone knows I'm not a threat and if they were going to make a move they would have done so already. You're deluded." Thame concurs.
She begins to get frustrated.
"And Dragan took over from a man. It's in the record books. And I can smell that you're not one of those. I'm not sure what game you're playing and what you think you know about me, but I'm leaving."
"Come on, Ormr! This weak pathetic man is stopping you doing what needs to be done. My job is to look after you both and reunite you. You're both in the shadows, you need each other."
"Ormr says hi. And, fuck off you mad bitch. With all due respect, and for the final time, no. We're done."
Thame collects his things up. As he puts the last of his things in his bag, his phone vibrates.
OMG. YOU DIDNT TELL US! WHAT AN AMAZING TRIP. LEAVING DRINKS WHEN YOURE BACK.
ITS YOUR MUM. HOPE TURIN WAS GREAT. CALL US ON YOUR BIG TRIP IF YOU GET RECEPTION.
Thame's face contorts as looks at her chuckling away.
"Oh, did I forget to mention? You're going on a trip!"
Thame's brow furrows as if forcing down a lid on Ormr.
"Funny what recording your voice for a year will do. We can completely replicate it. With a bit of AI mixed in, you're living quite the second life."
"What the fuck have you done?" Thame snaps, smashing his fist down onto the table so hard that it cracks down the middle.
"You've called your mum and a few choice friends to explain that you're taking time off and going to South America for a year. Some soul-searching bullshit but people believed you'd be up for that."
"And my job?" Thame growls, without dropping her gaze.
"Non-paid sabbatical. All kept quiet as you wanted to avoid a farewell drinks thing and, well, you're coming back. Your replacement starts Monday."
Thame doesn't say a thing but backs slowly out of the room, without taking his eyes off her smug face. As he leaves, he fires one last question.
"If not the Cult, then what?"
"Still independent. Don't go far, my boy."
Thame slams the glass meeting room door shut and it fractures into a million pieces.
"We're on for Plan B, right now." She says into her phone.
Thame clicks the lift and waits impatiently, making balls with his toes and squeezing his bag handle way too tightly. His amulet was drawing maximum energy, his teeth grinding together. Getting in, he presses for the ground floor, checking his phone to see there's no reception. A rattle startles him.
"Christ."
The lift stops and a quick rush of gas is pumped in. Thame holds his breath but the gas has given him zero visibility. A quick press of the buttons shows that the lift is no longer in his control. He wrenches the doors apart only to be faced with a small gap and a brick wall. Leaving them open to let the gas escape, it only streams in faster. Still holding his breath, Thame goes to smash open the ceiling. Bang. Bang. He gets the roof open but as he hoys himself up, he feels a thud across his back and shoulders. With a gasp, he falls back down into the lift where the gas quickly drops him into a deep, dark sleep.