“No Retreat” – Joe Marson

The morning sun dances over my desk as I sit, watching the security footage of Camilla sleeping. I do rather enjoy being able to spy on her like this… She’s been tossing and turning. Thrashing. I lean back in my chair, curious about what she’s dreaming. A slight thrill shoots through me when she sits bolt upright in the bed, her chest rising in ragged swells. I can only hope I’m the monster in her nightmares, it would be such an honor.

A servant steps into the room and I close the screen. I watch him as he crosses the room, but his eyes remain trained on the floor. Without a word, he places the tray with my morning paper and coffee at the end of my desk and leaves. I immediately flip to the business section, smiling when my eyes land on the lovely picture of Camilla and I outside the restaurant, my lips against her delicate throat. There’s a slight blush to her cheeks which I find grave satisfaction in. Above the photo is the header: Is Business Mogul Ronan Cole Still Russia's Most Eligible Bachelor?

I laugh. If only those women knew what truly lurks beneath... My phone rings on my desk, and I groan when I see Anastasia’s name flash on the screen. Exhaling, I accept the call and can hear Anastasia screaming before I pull the phone to my ear. "Yes?"

"Why would you, Ronan?” Ana shouts between sobs. “How long have you been seeing her?"

I find it amusing that the woman who was having an affair can point fingers. "Not long," I say. Another wretched sob crosses the line. "You can’t possibly be angry at me. You’re married, Ana. Married! And your husband knows about us."

"But I love you."

"And what am I to do? Sit and wait for you? You can't leave him. He'll never allow you to leave, I'm just trying to—"

"Have you slept with her?"

My stomach flutters with excitement. "Ana..."

"Have you fucked her?"

"I'm just trying to get over you. My heart's broken, Ana, it truly is because I can never really have you." Lies. All such pretty, pretty lies. “I can’t do this anymore,” I say, and hang up. Love is a pathetic emotion too many people allow to rule them.

Smiling, I pick my phone up and dial Igor. It rings once.

“Yes, boss?” he says.

“When will the plane be ready for China?”

“Two hours.”

“Very good. Lock the little kitty up, while I’m gone, would you?"

“Gladly,” he says, and I hang up.

The phone buzzes again, Ana’s name flashing on the screen. I shut the ringer off, drumming my fingers over the table as I contemplate what truly rules the world, money or love. After all, love is what many wars have been fought for, and pretending it's an emotion I'm capable of is how I've started many wars myself. It may be how I start this one…

A small Chinese man buzzes Donovan and I through a set of metal doors. We follow a long hallway to another set of doors. An alarm beeps, the doors swing open to a dark room and the smell of gunpowder wafts out. The lights flicker on, and I inhale a deep breath, beaming. The room is filled to the brim with boxes of ammunition. "So good to see the supply from Mexico has been steady," I say.

We’re led to another room, and the man types in a passcode before the lock clicks. The door opens and a cloud of cold fog billows through the doorway as we step inside. The chill to the air rouses me, and then my eyes lock on three small, glass boxes placed on the middle of a table. Inside each box is a silver torpedo no bigger than a laptop. My heart palpitates, the excitement teems through my blood like a lethal dose of heroin.

Another man in a white lab coat enters the room, clearing his throat as he holds out his hand to me. "I'm Chen Hsu. It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Cole." I shake his hand, my eyes still glued to the shiny objects. Honestly, I can barely contain myself. "Each bomb," he says, "has an impact of one-hundred fifty megatons. Twice that of the largest nuclear weapon ever detonated. The Devil's Dust you’ve been mining has proven very powerful." He beams, pleased with himself.

"Wonderful," I say, stepping to the edge of the table. The man shifts uncomfortably and I glance up.

"They are very delicate," he says.

I swipe a finger over the edge of the smooth glass with a grin. "Even better. I can't wait to watch the test detonation; it should be so festive." Donovan chuckles beside me. "You are the scientist responsible for the development, correct?"

The man nods.

"And no one else has access to that formula, correct?" I ask, lifting a brow.

"No one, as you requested."

"Very good. I’ll need the files, proprietary information and such, in the event something dreadful were to happen to you." I smile and he shifts uneasily on his feet, his gaze drifting from me to Donovan and back. "Well then, shall we prepare for the premier?" I say with a clap of my hands.

Exhaling, Chen nods and motions toward the door. We step back into the hallway. My face is flush with anticipation, and I’ll not lie, there’s a little pep in my step.

"You're rather jovial," Donovan says.

"Of course, it's the day I've been waiting on for seven years."

We follow Chen through the narrow corridor, passing team after team of men in lab coats. Finally, we're led into a breakroom. A large, plasma television with a live picture of a barren desert and blue sky hangs on the far wall.

I take a seat at the table, folding my hands on my lap as I stare at the screen. "Jung-Hwa is aware that his country is about to blow a crater in the Gobi Desert as a show of power to the Chinese?" I speak in Russian to Donovan so the little scientist won’t understand me.

Donavan nods. A fissure of delight tears through me. Pawn by pawn, I've placed men—very corrupt men— in seats of power with the promise of money. Anton, Jung-Hwa, soon the American President… It's all working like an orchestrated symphony, and I’m the master conductor. After all, it takes a lot to construct a fake war. "Oh, " I say, "and how angry everyone will become. Nuclear warheads are so taboo these days."

A phone in the room rings and the man answers it, shouting in Chinese before slamming it back down. He points at the screen and I watch, my stomach absolutely swimming with butterflies. Suddenly, a bright light washes out the screen. There's a loud boom and seconds later the floor to the building we're in rattles. My cheeks hurt from smiling. Adrenaline rumbles through my entire body as I anxiously watch the static fizzle on the screen. Within a few seconds, a pixelated image blips onto the monitor before slowly coming into focus, showcasing an aerial view of the blast site. My chest tightens and I push up from my seat, knocking the chair over as I step toward the television. Through the cloud of ash and smoke I can make out the blackened earth. Land passes underneath the drone, but it's all scorched. All demolished. Miles and miles of destruction. This is a weapon all the major power players will want when they find out their enemy is in possession of it. Because I’ll make sure the enemies have one… I glance at Chen. "Where do you keep your files?"

"Locked in my office."

Donovan stands and I adjust my cufflinks as he approaches the little scientist. He grabs his shoulders and spins him around, quickly jabbing a blade into his jugular. The man grabs at his neck, gasping for breath as the blood spurts through his fingers. He buckles and his knees hit the floor with a thud before he falls face first onto the tile. "What a shame to snuff out such genius, but..." I take a breath, "you never can be too careful with your secrets."

Donovan wipes the blade of the knife clean with a handkerchief and we step toward the door. "Grab those files from his office," I say, taking one last look at the glorious image on the screen.