The Labyrinth - Extended Prologue free porn video

Labyrinth Extended Prologue When he opened up his eyes, he knew whose face he would wear to get the job done. It was four o'clock in the morning and the day had not even started yet. He always woke up this early, no matter how terrible the jet lags or how severe his wounds after gunfights - or how tired his body after interrogation sessions. It's automatic: one of those things that his body was trained for; a simple practice that had saved his life countless times. He reached to the bedside lamp and flipped the switch on. The light barely illuminated the damp, musty room and its shabby furniture. Still naked, he stood up and dragged his feet to the window. He drew the curtain to take a peek. There was nobody outside this cheap motel. The streets were sleepy and quiet. He walked to the other side of the room, opened the refrigerator and fetched a small carton container before sitting at a desk nearby. Scattered on top of the desk were cables, document folders, a laptop computer, a long length wig and The Mould, a gadget shaped like a glass cylinder in the size of a human head. He opened up the cylinder lid and poured the content of the carton inside. Creamy liquid latex soon filled a quarter of the cylinder. He booted the computer. The screen displayed a series of headshots of various people along with accompanying information. He clicked one profile and browsed over the data once again, double-checking his choice while making sure he had all the basic knowledge of the subject. Finally satisfied, his hand reached for his cell phone and dialled a number. Somebody picked up the phone but did not utter a single word. "Request accommodation for subject number five," his accent was French. A soft-spoken guy. He hung up without waiting for the response. Then he connected the computer to the Mould, clicked on the picture he had chosen and pressed Enter. The Mould began to warm up and droned for ten seconds. Then, a holographic image appeared inside the glass container. First, it formed a full replica of a digital skeleton and then changed into a glowing 3D rendition of a human head. Underneath, the latex liquid started to stir and boil. Next, droplets of latex started to float and fly around in the cylinder. They turned in a spinning, circular movement and rotated the 3D head. It was almost like the head was a planet pulling the droplets with its gravity. More droplets followed as they started to smear on the surface of the face. Slowly but sure, they merged in, casting a replica of a feminine head. He had several minutes until the Mould finished its job. He left the desk and turned the TV on. It broadcasted a music clip featuring a teenage popstar singing and dancing. He listened to it for a while then walked to the pantry as he began to hum to the melody of the song. By the time he poured himself a cup of coffee, his voice had become exactly like the singer's, mimicking her perfectly down to her pitch. It had been a while since the last time he heard female voice coming out from his lips. Sipping his cup, he sat on his bed and started flipping the TV channels. He stumbled on a news program and kept it on, just to provide the room with some background noises. He put the cup on the table nearby and went to the bathroom to freshen up. Afterward, he walked to the closet and took out a huge bag. He unpacked several items and laid them on the bed: a leather bags and a custom- made steel case. He opened the leather case and examined its content: his calling card. The cube-bombs. There were still five of them left. He detonated the first one two days ago at The Four Aces caf?. He closed the leather bag and set it aside. Then, he opened the other case. Vortex-Crow logo was stamped on top of it. Inside, a full-face helmet with transparent visor stared back at him. Its metallic surface and curves conveyed a simple yet futuristic design. He held the helmet and lifted it up, facing straight to his head, feeling its light weight. His fingers traced the smooth surface of its shell. The outer layer had several small plugs designed to fit memory cards and cables. He flipped it over and examined the helmet's inner side. It's like watching a crystal ball. The interior was marked with hundreds of crossing lines in various lengths and widths, forming a web of bright, tiny pulses. The lines flickered in various colours as they quivered along the lines in different speeds. "So, this is why they called it Labyrinth, eh?" he whispered. His tone was now fully feminine. He sounded like a Frenchwoman. He rotated the helmet and saw his reflection on the visor. He smacked his lips, knowing that his fake voice did not match his visage. The Mould emitted a droning sound once again. The process was complete. He looked at it and found a female face floating inside the tube. His client had requested him to use impersonation. They gave him detailed dossiers on several people he could impersonate. He was supposed to choose the one he considered the most suitable for the job and let them know his choice. The rest would be handled by the client. He sighed as he recalled how he got into the job in the first time. A month ago, a mysterious caller contacted him, asking him to put surveillance on Ned Guthrie, the inventor of the Labyrinth device. He monitored his movements since, until two days ago he learned that the Ned's neighbour, Denise, was actually doubling as his wife, Gina Guthrie. In the beginning, it was just a hunch. The hypothesis came up when he noticed that 'Denise' was rarely seen since Gina was pregnant. A further investigation confirmed that 'Denise' was working in a photo shoot project abroad which explained her absence. This information had led him to loosen up his surveillance against Ned Guthrie's sexy neighbour. But that was changed when his client informed him about the unexpected completion of the Labyrinth. He reacted accordingly by quickly occupying a room in one building quite far from Guthrie's apartment. Using a special binocular, he started to watch him nonstop, skipping meals and sleep. And two days ago, he caught Ned Guthrie stepped into his room while at the same time, his neighbour 'Denise' also entered her room. What came next still amazed him. He saw Denise slipped into her bathroom and came out completely nude. Then, she opened her closet, pulled out a clump of skin and held it up in front of her. He could see her smile, full of determination. She slid her legs into the skin. Her hands and torso followed suit. Then, she gathered her hair into a bun and buried her head into the false head and blonde wig. At first, it looked like she was covered in an oversized, wrinkled blow-up doll. He saw how she struggled under the skin, trying to get herself comfortable. It was a bodysuit. Then, even a weirder thing happened. He saw as she slithered her hand around her torso, making small pinches in several spot on the skin, when suddenly the skin mass ballooned and created the impression that it was about to explode. The skin mass stay inflated only for several seconds. Next, it deflated rapidly and compressed her figure tightly. The strain had made the bodysuit's doll face contracted. Denise's new visage became livelier as the pressure intensified. She distorted her face, opened her mouth widely and twisted her jaw to fight the increasing force. The process took several seconds until another face emerged over the lifeless mask. The face of Gina Guthrie. At the same time, similar process was also happening all over Denise's body as the bodysuit's false skin kept pressing and squeezing her. Her thighs and buttocks were broadened by the process while her butt cheeks became fleshier. Her features were becoming more pleasingly plump. When it appeared that she had gained control over her body, 'Denise' grabbed a portion of the skin on her belly with both hands and pulled out a section of the skin, shaping it into one small boulder. She massaged, kneaded and reshaped the lump as it became bigger and resembled a baby bump. In a matter of minutes, a naked replica of the pregnant, blonde Gina Guthrie was replacing the slim, brunette 'Denise'. The new Gina was blushing as she brushed her blonde hair and tucked several golden strands. Her hands travelled to her neck and continued to her breasts and her waist. She stopped short when she reached her swollen belly. She thought her stomach wasn't placed properly so she adjusted the baby bump, repositioned it to the correct angle. He kept watching as she strutted to the closet and took out a sweater and a skirt. She returned to the bathroom and several minutes later, the new Gina stepped out from Denise's apartment and walked into Ned's apartment. He rushed over to his bags, took out a customized rifle and loaded it with a special customized bullet. He returned to the window and aimed the rifle to Ned's building. The rifle's silencer did not make any sound as it released the bullet straight to the wall near the window. Once the bullet nested in the wall, he used a remote control to activate the microphone inside it. This way, he could listen to conversations between Ned and his 'wife' about the Labyrinth, as well as the sound of their lovemaking. He was excited about this discovery. He finally spotted an Incog agent. What a rare sight! Incogs are espionage's most accomplished - and most reclusive - actors and actresses. They operated under tight secrecy. Even the espionage community considered them as just a myth. Incogs used their expertise in camouflage to infiltrate, charm and gain information. They influenced their targets and rendering them careless so they would exposed themselves, leading them to be captured by the other intelligence agencies. These agents could impersonate anyone. And they are extremely persistent. Rumours had been circling around about Incog agents who lived under false identities for decades, acting as a sleeper agent while patiently gathering intels and slowly ensnare their targets. It had been said that to accomplish their objectives, they were equipped by advanced bodysuit technology. Having connected the dots, he decided against taking any immediate action to harm the Incog. Not yet, he thought. He suspected that this 'Gina' was not working alone. His intuition paid off when he overheard the Incog agent called her handler, moments after she shed her disguise. He tracked 'Denise' s movement to the Four Aces caf? where she met her handler. Once he found them conversing in one corner of the caf?, he threw one of his cube bombs. What followed were the most beautiful fireworks he had ever seen. The huge fireball created by the explosion was still fresh in his mind. He closed his eyes and swore that he could still hear the blast. And it sounded so melodious, it made him smile a happy grin. He knew his client was queasy about the explosion. During his flight to Pakistan as they briefed him for his current mission via satellite communication, they told him that the incident was unnecessary. Well, the hell with it! If they could pay him at his staggering rate, they would manage to clean up that mess. They might pay for the expense, but it was still his mission. His decision. Car horns and sirens filled the dawn sky, snapping him back to the reality of his current situation. The city had woken up. He threw his gaze to the Mould device. The female mask was still floating inside it. Its deep, blank eyes stared back at him, begging him to give it a life. He smacked his lips. To be frank, he detested disguising. Throughout his long career as a mercenary, he had learned various skills to get any job done. Impersonation was never his favourite. Prosthetic masks, wigs and contact lenses were the stuffs he preferred the least. Because masks suffocated him; and they burned his skin. The unmasking process always left his face somewhat blotchy and bruised. He often got some kind of allergic reaction every time he finished wearing masks. The itches stayed for several days. Certainly, he had used impersonation in his previous jobs, mostly posing as his targets' lovers or family members. He knew how to act and behave exactly like the people he impersonated. But he never had the patience to do detailed research, let alone maintaining his role- playing in long term. Yet, the worst thing about masking was the lack of pleasure it entailed. The most visible difference could be seen in the faces of his victims. Killing his targets under disguise always robbed him from the joy of witnessing his victims' horrified face as they realized their life was about to ended in his hands. He preferred the look of terror in his victim's eyes. He found it very classic. So dramatic. This sensation was the main reason why he stayed in the hitman business. Besides the money, obviously. He drew near toward the Mould. He opened the lid, snaked his arm into the tube and snatched the mask out the container. He took a deep breath as he slipped his head into the opening. He made a sharp hissing sound when he felt the chemical burning his face. The inside of the mask was slimy and hot. Yet, he ignored the pain and kept pushing in. His hissing changed into grunts as the heat intensified. Just like a pair of shoes, the mask needed to be broken in while it's still fresh from the oven to let it adapt itself with the masker's real face. With one quick tug, he yanked the mask in, covering his whole head down to his neckline. "Fuck!" he groaned. His voice wavered, falling somewhat between male and feminine register. His hands kept pressing to the mask against his face until the pain faded away. It was all blurry when he opened up his eyes. He stretched his neck and felt the mask tightened on his head. He tugged his new cheeks, nose and chin to make sure everything was in the right place. When he reached the scalp area, he realized that he forgot something. He reached for the wig and brushed its long strands with his fingers before putting it on. The wig hung unconvincingly on his head. He patted the hair to secure its position. The mask's scalp was equipped with a specific adhesive that would recognize and responded to wigs. When he sensed that the wig had been attached properly to the scalp, he brushed the hair again. His attention was diverted by something the anchor lady said in the TV. "...this week, the International Nuclear Council will meet in Karachi, Pakistan to elect its new leader for the upcoming five years term. The two candidates running for the leadership's chair are Katarina Al- Zikri, professor of Nuclear science from Yemen who will face a strong contender, Nicholas Chamber, a PhD in Nuclear Physics, business magnate and the owner of Chamber Energies and Foundation. Both candidates will deliver their vision and mission on how the council shall play its role in dealing with the evolving challenge of global nuclear politics. Mrs. Al-Zikri and Mr. Chambers will have to convince representatives of the INC that they are the best person to lead the organization whose main task is to oversee the utilization of nuclear energy in its member countries is done in a proper and harmful way...." At the same time, footages of the two candidates of the International Nuclear Council appeared on the screen. Katarina Al-Zikri was an Arab beauty with deep black eyes. The next footage showed her speaking to a group of journalists quoting her statements. Her English was fluent with a bit of accent. The narration continued. "...The INC election is very crucial following the recent discovery of Uranium and Plutonium smuggling into unstable countries which suspected to involve several multinational corporations. The scandal raises global concern as world leaders fear that this will help dictators to build nuclear weapons and create further global instability. Since yesterday, demonstrators had begun to occupy the convention centre...." Near the end of the clip, the news depicted a handsome, tall guy walking with several bunch world leaders in a conference. It looked like they were engaging in deep conversations, presumably about the nuclear subject. Then, there was another picture showing these people shaking hands. "Well, well...speaking of the devil," the masked male muttered to himself with his feminine voice which now had lost the French accent. "What a coincidence. Is this some kind of sign, Mr. Chambers?" he gave out a girly chuckle as he asked the guy in the TV screen. He turned around and saw himself on the mirror. The dim light reduced his reflection into a silhouette. He drew near and saw his manly body, followed by his feminine face and long hair. He snorted as he looked at his appearance. His male genital was in contrast with his feminine visage. He looked grotesque and imperfect. He caressed his wig and twirled his long hair. In one motion, he swept it over his shoulders. The black tresses fell onto his flat chest down to the navel. There were still more items to prepare, he thought. First, the hair was too long. It needed to be cut and retouched to suit his target's hairdo. And the colour didn't match. He also needed to create fake torso and thighs. Tonight, his client would inform him about some pointers and additional information to help him running the mission. They also had to provide him with the outfit and accessories to complete his illusion. As the saying goes, the devil is in the details. It was going to be a long day. *** Nicholas Chamber was having a long day. Early this morning, he had his breakfast in Hong Kong where he discussed the trends and predictions for the future mineral investments with several members of energy consortiums. By lunchtime, he was already in Shanghai to deliver his speech in front of foreign dignitaries on the topic of energy conservation. Afterwards, he and his secretary rushed to the airport, where he changed from his private jet to a small government airplane for his next destination: Karachi. His body was slumped against the smooth reclining seat inside the jet. The jet interior was modest compared to his lavish private Boeing. Nicholas himself had asked for the arrangement. In his role as the Special Envoy for the International Nuclear Council, he knew that he represented the interest of his country and that he had to act humbly by following the protocol. Piles of reports, working papers and executive summaries were scattered on the desk in front of him. The rest sat on his lap. They were full of side notes and highlights. "You already read them twice, Nick," a melodious voice came from the other side of the cabin. Carole Garber, his private secretary, shuffled under a big brown blanket. She had reclined her seat to get into comfortable position. "I thought you're asleep," Chambers answered casually. "I can't. It's too noisy." She turned her body to face her boss. Her eyes were still hidden under her sleep-mask. "I didn't make any sound," his attention still focused to the paper in his hand. "I can still hear you're thinking, though," she grinned. Nicholas gave out a playful smile. "Can't miss a single detail, Carole." Carole opened her sleep mask and stared Nicholas with her blue eyes. "You won't. Everything is in your head already." "Easy for you to say," he answered. "You're not the one who's running for the most important position in the world," he said as he threw his gaze outside the window. The dark sky was engulfed in gloomy overcasts. He could see lightning sparks bounced between mazes of clouds. There was a storm afar. Drowning in his thoughts, he reviewed everything he knew about current nuclear issues - while secretly trying to convince himself that he had missed something important. But his intellect denied his effort. He basically knew everything about nuclear; from the basic theory; the latest technology; nuclear history; its economic, social and political dimension; the best and the worst nuclear technology could offer to humanity as well as every consequence it entails. Thanks to his father, these topics have been a part of his life since the age of reason. Nicholas Chambers came from a long line of energy entrepreneurs. The owner of Chambers Energy Consortium, he inherited the energy kingdom from his father, William Chambers who obtained the company from his father - Nicholas' grandfather: Fredrick Chambers. Chambers Energy had participated in nuclear research and technology development since the dawn of 20th century. No wonder that Nicholas possessed impressive knowledge in nuclear science. Rich, intelligent and young, it was inevitable that politics became his next endeavour. Nicholas knew all the major players in the nuclear game: the governments, the corporations, the scientists, the NGOs and International organizations. What about pop-culture? Well, he had watched and read thousands of movies and novels whose plot based on nuclear. He had several nuclear jokes under his belt that he often used for icebreaking purpose during meetings with scientist and politicians. Heck, he even met (and knew in person) several Bond-villains-wannabe who are crazy enough to fantasize a nuclear Armageddon. He caught a glimpse of his reflection on the airplane window. The airplane reading light only lit one side of his face. He was 35 years old and exhausted. His strong jaw and sharp eyes could not hide the fact that he had been losing sleep for several weeks. "Just go to sleep. Would you, Nick?" Carole's voice surprised him. She already stood next to his seat. She had not changed her attire since their departure from Shanghai, a white blouse and black pants. Her black jacket still hung on the back of her seat. Her shoulder length brown hair was tied in a simple ponytail. She looked exhausted. She had been working as much as he had. Actually, she might have worked even harder, doing the technical stuffs such as making preparation, arranging schedule as well as providing data and updates for her boss. Carole Garber joined Chambers Energy right after her college graduation. She first worked as a secretary in one of the subsidiary company owned by Chambers Energy. She was in charge in public relation and handling events. It was also the first she met Nicholas Chamber as he began his apprenticeship at the subsidiary office. Back then, he was working under a false name to avoid special treatment from his superiors and peers. A series of conferences led Carole to meet William Chambers, Nicholas' father. William recruited her to work in the secretariat for board of directors. When the old Chambers passed the torch to his son, Carole was appointed as his private secretary. Nicholas was comfortable with Carole since she had known him from his early days. They also had the same age. "You've done enough, Nick," Carole sighed. "Trust me." "Katarina Al-Zikri is certainly gonna give me a tough rally during the debate. That woman is one crazy bitch in podium. Truly attention whore," he replied. Carole chuckled and snorted a bit. Nicholas heard that and they laugh together. Nicholas always found her laughter amusing and somehow made her looked natural. "I think I'm going to give this pile another look," he said. As Carole was about to reply, the airplane shook up slightly. Carole lost her balance. She stumbled over and almost knocked to the floor. Instinctively, Nicholas stood up and reached for her. The pile on his lap tumbled and scattered on the floor. She was pulled tenderly into his embrace. "You're alright?" Nicholas asked her with a concerned tone. He pulled Carole closer to him. His hand was grasping her shoulders. She could smell his manly odour. Carole's heart skipped a beat. "Uh, yes. I'm okay. Thanks," Carole answered, tongue-tied. Carol looked the other way to hide her face from Nicholas. Somehow the accident had made her blushed. She went to the floor to pick the papers. Nicholas followed suit. "It's just a slight bump. We're safe." "Uh-huh," Carole replied as she tried to regain her composure. (Relax, Carole. He's your boss. Please, don't go Moneypenny on him) , she thought. They both began to crawl on the floor to gather the papers. Nicholas was reaching for a sheet of paper when he saw two soft silky legs covered in black, polished and leather shoes. "Is everything alright, Mr. Chamber?" a soft voice came from above him. Carole lifted her head. Her eyes met a tall figure. It was the flight attendant. She was bending toward Nicholas. This pose along with her tight stewardess uniform accentuated her smoking body. "I'm okay," Nicholas replied. "Oh dear, let me help you," she gasped. A little bit exaggerated, Carole thought. "We'd just experienced a mild turbulence," the stewardess said. She lowered herself near Nicholas as she gathered the papers. From the corner of her eyes, Carole could see as Nicholas stole a glance at her inviting bosoms. "Thank you..." Nicholas said as he squinted to look closer at her nametag. "I'm Stephanie." She gave him a nervous smile. "Hi, Stephanie. I'm Nicholas. "You can call me Stefi." "Stefi the stewardess. That has a nice ring to it," Nicholas smiled. She chuckled. Carole rolled her eyes. She is a typical Chambers' woman, Carole thought. Having worked in Chamber Energy for most of her twenties, Carole knew exactly that this is the kind of female her employers were fond of, at least physically. Stefi's features resembled those of the late Jasmine Chambers, Nicholas's mother. She died when Nicholas was three years old. Carole recalled that Jasmine - a fragile lady - died due to an illness. Pneumonia, if she was not mistaken. William Chamber spent several months plunging into a deep mourning period. Once recovered, he began to work even harder, practically abandoning his only son. Nicholas was too young to remember this event. He grew up practically knowing his mother solely through photographs, news clippings and stories from his nannies. The loss, coupled with the lack of attention from his dad had turned him into a lonely child. Bright and gifted, he dealt with his loneliness by immersing himself in books. Nicholas' yearning for a mother figure was evident in his taste for women. For years, Carole had watched countless women he dated come and go. Every one of them had the same appearance: blonde, angular face, blue eyes, pointy nose, huge tits and tall. These women were always easily smitten by Nicholas's charm. But his relationships never lasted long. Carole always thought that this was mostly due to his fixation over the physical aspect of these girls. Nicholas was a rich bachelor and more than often, the motivation of these girls was seldom based on love. Sometimes Carole just wished that Nicholas would begin to see beyond those pretty faces and pay attention to the people who care for him sincerely. People like her. "There you go, Mr. Chamber," Stefi said when they finished collecting the papers. "Thanks." Nicholas winked to her. "How long have you been working as a flight attendant, Stefi?" "This is my first flight with the government jet, Sir." She handed him the paper. "Well, it's nice to have someone like you on board. I hope you enjoy flying with us." Nicholas smiled. The trace of fatigue on his face eased off as his face brimming with delight."Are you going to fly with us on our way back?" "Yes, sir, definitely. I'm staying in Karachi until the INC conference ends." "Nice to hear that..." Nicholas was about to chat more with the flight attendant but Carole cleared her throat. "I think that would be all, Stefi. Thank you for your help," she said. "We'll see you later." "Yes, Ma'am. Have a nice rest, Mr. Chamber." Nicholas nodded. He gazed at Stefi as she walked away , swivelling her ass before disappearing behind the curtain. Then, he turned to Carole and threw his secretary a knowing glance. "Don't even think of it, Nick." "What? I'm not thinking anything," Nicholas shrugged his shoulders and smiled playfully. Carole sighed and took over the pile of paper in Nicholas's hand. "We talked about this before. She's just like the others." "Nobody knows. Carole. Love might be in the air tonight." "It won't. Trust me, Boss." "You're no fun," he sighed. "Knowing about your personal life is one of my job-description, Nick. Your decision can affect your professional judgement. It means the future of our company is at stake if you took the wrong decision. " Nicholas threw his body back onto the chair. He took out one paper from a pile near him and waved it to his secretary. "It amazed me that you know a lot about my personal life. But I never know anything about yours." Carole hesitated. "Well, because you don't need to." "What about that IT consultant guy we hired last week. You both seemed to hit it off." Carole eyes widened. "You mean Bruce? Are you crazy?" "Come on, Carole. I saw you stealing glances at him during the meeting." "The guy is happily married. He showed me pictures of his wife and daughter." "Too bad," Nicholas smiled naughtily. "He has no idea what he's missing: a smart, beautiful and refined woman." Carole sensed her face was about to warm up. She pouted her lips. Nicholas roared with laughter. "I'm just kidding, Carole. Please go back to your seat. There could another bump anytime now," Nicholas kept chuckling. Carole went back to her seat while Nicholas went back to the paper in his hand and began to skim over the pages. That sight irritated Carole. "I won't tell you again, Nick. But you really need to take a rest. Otherwise you're going to be really exhausted during the speech. We've got a tight schedule ahead." Nick did not answer. His eyes were glued to the paper. Then he lifted his finger. "Just a second." His eyeballs flickered as he skimmed the paper. "Carole, call headquarter right now! I need the boys to check something for me." *** The stage was brimming with bright lights. Against the backdrop entitled "Revitalizing the Role of International Nuclear Council in Facing the Challenge of a New Nuclear Era," the woman who was standing on the podium was speaking in fiery tone. "...We need to change the existing paradigm. The root of nuclear problem in our era lies in the domination of a handful of western countries who cannot accept the fact that their supremacy of smaller countries is weakening. These countries have to accept that they need to give countries who possess the resource and capability to build their own nuclear based facility a chance. An opportunity to develop a peaceful nuclear program. We can begin this important step by electing a council leader from a third world country who understands this point of view... Nicholas Chamber only listened partially to his opponent. There was nothing new in her speech. She basically mocked the failure of the western nuclear powers and blaming them for whatever nuclear catastrophes happening in the world. Classic blame-game routine. He had delivered his speech before Katarina did hers. He spoke about that the Council needs to work closely with private and public sector as well as the NGO to build global awareness. He argued that the Council must extend its effort beyond nuclear politics. He believed that educating the society on nuclear issues - if done properly - would create satisfying outcome in transforming the global society. Personally, Nicholas was unsure that his point of view would win him the council leader position. Most of other council members told him that his take on nuclear issues was too idealistic. But he was always careful to not fall into sectarian camp and being reduced into a mere puppet for some powerful countries, like some of council members. As Katarina was finishing her speech, Nicholas's phone vibrated. Finally, his staffs sent him the message. He opened it and read the content. It brought a smile to his face. His hunch was right. The moderator came forward to the podium and announced that the speech session was finished. He recapped the standpoints of each candidate and told the audience that the remaining council members would officially elect the chairman after their official deliberations sessions in two weeks. Katarina and Nicholas stepped down from the stage to the hordes of reporters. They spent several minutes answering questions before retreated to their seats. "Nice speech, Kate," Nicholas said as he approached the table where his opponent was sitting. He extended his arms and shook her hand. "Hello, Nick. It's so nice for you to come," she replied. Nicholas detected a cynical tone in her phrasing. "You're quite on fire up there," Nicholas said. "I'm always on fire, Nicky darling," she replied. "Enjoying Karachi, so far?" "It's a quite beautiful." "So, what do you think about your odds? Do you still think you can be the chairman?" "I'm quite confident." Katarina laughed and took another sip of her drink. "You're so na?ve, Nick. That's cute. You do know that, don't you?" "Why so?" "You're view on the nuclear issues are way out of context. You cannot solve nuclear issues by shoving people the whole mumbo-jumbo about the proper usage of nuclear technology. Don't you know that it's all about politics?" "I know about the political stuff. But I just think that we need to gain wider perspectives and do not let the council goes partisan." "I think we're on the same board on that notion, Kid." "Oh, I don't think so, Kate." Kate cocked her eyebrow and stared Nick inquisitively. Nick slid his arm into his jacket and took out a folder. He handed it out to Kate. "I want you to take a look at these." Kate opened the folder. She found several papers and pictures inside. "Be careful. You don't want to let the press see them." Once she laid her eyes on the paper, Katarina Al-Zikri's face became pale. She quickly closed the folders. "Just to let you know, those are documents which proved that you've been receiving a good amount of money from the Vortex-Crow Corporations. Actually, you covered it quite well by hiding these illegal transactions in several tax havens. But I have my own way and my resource." "Where did you get these?" Nicholas smiled. "Let's just say that I know somebody who knows somebody." "This is illegal!" she was livid. "That's debatable, Kate," he shook his head. "You can sue me, if you want to. But I need to remind you that it only worsen your position. The press will have an orgy over this." She hesitated. Her lips were trembling. Nicholas continued. "My resources also informed me about some evidences about you having numerous secret meetings with higher echelons of the Vortex-Crow Corporations several months ago. Now please tell me, Kate. Why a respected member of the Nuclear Council and a candidate of the Chairman of the Council like you initiated and established contacts with a company under suspicion of smuggling Uranium to unstable countries and supplying crazy leaders with dangerous nuclear technology?" Katarina tried to control her emotions. "What do you want, Kid?" Nicholas looked straight into her eyes. "If I want to, I could expose you to the world. But that would harm the Council integrity. Crisis of confidence will ensue. We don't need another scandal, do we?" Katarina eyes were empty. "I want you to step down from the race. Gracefully, mind you. After the election finished, I would like you to resign from the Council. You're finished, Kate." *** "I still can't believe she dropped out of the race," Carole stared in disbelief to her smart phone. She just read the news and analysis about Katarina Al-Zikri sudden resignation from the election. "Cold feet, I guess," Nicholas replied, sitting on his chair while sipping a drink; a wide smile hanging on his face. They were flying in the government plane on their way home to the states. The convention in Karachi just ended the day before with Nicholas emerged as the sole candidate for the chairman position. "Has this ever happened before?" she asked. "As far as I know, rarely," Nicholas answered. He was sitting on his chair, peeling an orange. He looked tired but Carole could tell that his boss was happy. "According to the rules, the election committee will convene and hold another deliberation session to formally elect me as the chairman in two weeks in Madrid." "Well, this means I'd need to rearrange your schedule,"said Carole. She tapped on her tablet computer. Nicholas looked outside; thin cloud hanging in the clear morning sky. He didn't tell Carole about his conversation with Katarina. It's better that she doesn't know, he thought. At that time, two words kept echoing in his mind. Vortex-Crow. A business empire with tentacles all over the world. Its subsidiaries encompassed various industries, from information technology to tourism to mining to high-tech weaponry. Its size roughly equalled the GDP of Brazil and Argentina. The Vortex-Crow business imperia were the love child of two persons: Jonathan Vortex and Janet Crow. Jonathan Vortex was the genius behind the technology product created by Vortex-Crow. He was a recluse. And nobody knew exactly how he looked like beside a couple of old magazine pictures from a decade ago. The last time he was seen in public, he looked exactly like stereotypical fat ugly geek. On the other hand, Janet Crow was the beautiful face of Vortex-Crow. But under her exquisite angelic face was a heartless financial wizard who built the business kingdom into a blue-chip multinational company by slashing its competitors through series of hostile takeovers. As a businessman, Nicholas had several encounters with Vortex-Crow people. One impression he had about these people was that they were bloodthirsty sharks and hyenas who would do anything to get what they want, in their own terms. Nicholas was wondering about Katarina Al-Zikri's involvement with the Vortex-Crow company. It's obvious. In order to secure their new business venture of nuclear smuggling, the company had to plant a mole in the International Nuclear Council. Having a chairman of the INC under their influence would be a major investment that will pay off big time. Katarina and he were the perfect candidates. Both of them are experts in nuclear technology. They were also well-known and well-connected. But it was easier to recruit Katarina since she was not loaded with money, Nicholas thought. She would be more prone to receive bribes and kickbacks from the corporation. Moreover, maybe the corporation found out about her weakness or a scandal involving her. With that knowledge, they could turn her into their puppet. But why they didn't try to co-opt me? Nicholas wondered. It seemed rather off. They should have tried to persuade both of us. It's only safer if they cover both ends, right? At that moment, he heard somebody entering the cabin. Nicholas turned his head toward the door and saw Stefi, clad in her ever-sexy stewardess uniform. "Excuse me, Mr. Chamber." She was holding a champagne bottle and two wine glass. "I just learned about your nomination as the INC chairman. I thought you'd like a drink. Compliment from the crew." "That's very nice of you, Stefi." Nicholas shifted from his seat. The stewardess strutted to his direction and poured him the drink. Nicholas could smell her perfume. The scent was so enticing. He could not help to notice her silk dark stockings and those two bumps on her chest. "Did you travel around during your stay in Karachi?" Nicholas asked her. "Just for shopping and a little sight-seeing with the crew, Sir," she winked. Her voice was coy and flirty. Next, Stefi approached Carole's seat and served her the drink. Carole didn't say anything but from the look on her face, Nicholas could tell that she was annoyed by the flight attendant's presence. "Why don't you drink with us?" he offered. Stefi smiled and shook her head lightly. "I can't, Sir. Crews are not allowed to drink on board." "That's too bad. I really want to drink with you." "So do I, Mr. Chambers." "Would you like to meet for some coffee once we're back home?" Nicholas could feel Carole giving him a piercing look. Stefi nodded her head and giggled in embarrassment. Instinctively, she hid her left feet behind her right one while looking to another direction like a shy schoolgirl being asked to the prom. Nicholas lifted his glass and looked at his secretary. "To a better future," he said. Carole smiled warmly to her boss. Once they finished drinking the wine, Stefi came over to collect the glass. Seconds later, Nicholas sensed his head getting heavier. His eyes were all blurry. He felt tired. A sudden fatigue enwrapped him. He turned his head to Carole and saw her unconscious on her seat. He tried to call her name but his mouth was too weak. Meanwhile, Stefi just stood there and watched him as he struggled to keep awake. "Are you O.K, Mr. Chamber?" she asked him with an odd, deadpan expression. She sounded passive and uninterested. What's happening to me? Nicholas thought. Am I being drugged...? Before he could think any longer, lights were out and everything went dark. *** His dainty fingers touched Nicholas Chamber's wrist, checking his pulse. Next, he approached Carole's unconscious body and did the same thing. Their pulses were stable. The sedative dosage was spot on. He pranced to the door and locked it from inside. Actually, he didn't have to worry about any intrusion from outside, since all the crew and passengers had been tranquilized. But, he felt by locking the door, he would have some privacy to finish the job. The plane itself was in autopilot. He had installed a gadget which able to hack and override the main control of the aircraft. He opened the overhead storage compartment and pulled out a steel case. Inside was a metallic helmet. The Labyrinth. When he was about to take the device out of the steel case, his eyes caught the ravishing visage reflected on the helmet's surface. He smacked his lips and the girl in the reflection did the exactly same thing. He touched his face and so did the girl. It's so smooth, so beautiful. He rearranged Nicholas sitting position properly and slipped the helmet into his victim's head. Next, he pressed a button to activate the Labyrinth. It instantly emitted a strange humming sound. The surface of the helmet was brimming with lights. "Impressive," he whispered. He took out a small flash disk from the case and plugged it into one of the slots in the helmet. On the Labyrinth's visor, sequences of pictures suddenly appeared. They switched over in rapid interchange. These were the images and scenes from Nicholas Chamber's memories. The Labyrinth tapped into its subject's subconscious and sorted all of the memories into series of batches. Then, it reclassified and regrouped these batches in preparation for the next stage: Reprogramming. His client had given him detailed instructions on how to operate the Labyrinth. He just had to follow the steps and waited for the device to work its magic. They had given him the flash-disk which would copy the victim's memories and wired it with the client's control panel via satellite. That way, his client would have full access into the victim's head, practically turning Nicholas Chamber into their puppet. He walked away and sat on an empty chair near the door. He observed his surroundings, looking at the unconscious Carole Garber. He smiled, recalling that he almost chose to impersonate Carole, considering her close relationship with Chamber. But when he thought that he would have to put more effort to act and behave like the real Carole, he decided against it. After studying Nicholas itinerary, he became interested in impersonating Stefi. He had maintained his impersonation for several days, having disguised as Stefi since the flight from Shanghai. The real Stefi was being captured in a dungeon somewhere in Mainland China. She didn't have any idea that she was about to be abducted as he approached her in the women's toilet in the airport disguising as an old Asian lady. It took him only several minutes to sedate and undress her. He applied the mask - which had been modelled exactly like Stefi's real face - and left the original Stefi in the toilet booth. His client's men would take care of her and hid her away. He joined the flight to Karachi in his new disguise and managed to get acquainted with Nicholas. He kept the mask on during the days of conference and go shopping with fellow pilots and cabin crew. His impersonation and bodysuit were so perfect that Justin, the co- pilot didn't have any idea that the 'Stefi' whom he was banging was a male assassin. He did everything according to the dossier his client had given him. He smiled widely, thinking how he had successfully emulated all Stefi's behaviours and gestures. Impersonation was surely not his main interest, but he still nailed it alright. He roared in laughter. A laugh so out of Stefi's character. Suddenly, he felt a sudden itching sensation creeping on his face. He laid his finger onto his cheek and he felt the itch stung his skin. He hissed in pain. The sting began to spread over, piercing his face and neck, like a mad swarm of bees. "Fuck!" he cursed under his breath. His voice was now all masculine. He threw his hands to his slender neck, scrapping his nape. But the more he scratched the skin, the more burning itches he felt all over his real face. He pressed his cheek, thinking the pain would subside. But the pain only became more intense. And it changed into a burning sensation. The heat pierced his real face, underneath the female mask. Unable to take it anymore, he skilfully peeled the false skin on his neck while being careful not to make any damage. A quick yank followed by a ripping Velcro sound and the face of Stefi the stewardess was off. The mask changed from a perfect copy of the pretty flight attendant's visage into a distorted and ill-shapen piece of skin. He palmed his face in search for any scratch or burning mark. Then he checked the interior of the mask. The chemical liquid on the inner surface had been dried out- That explained the intense burning. Should have reapplied the chemical last night, he thought. He remembered that he had worn this mask nonstop for days. And the chemical had expired. It's alright. He had some spare stored somewhere in his case. He fished out a can and sprayed in to the mask interior. As he reapplied the chemical, his eyes caught another glimpse at Nicholas Chamber. After the Labyrinth finished its job hacking and rewiring Nicholas' brain wave, the soon-to-be chairman of the International Nuclear Chamber would turn into a mere puppet. Nicholas Chamber would serve his master's order without even realizing it. *** When he woke up, Nicholas felt fresh and rested. He looked around and found Carole sitting on the adjacent chair, reading a book. He looked at the window and saw the city landscape beneath the thin cloud. Tiny cars and small buildings looked like toys from this altitude. He was home. Sensing his boss was just awaken, Carole looked away from the book and stared at her boss. "You slept so tight, like a baby," she said. "You didn't sleep for the whole trip?" "Yes, I did. I woke up two hours ago." Nicholas shifted on his chair. "I think I just had a strange dream," he said. "What is it about?" "I can't remember. I felt weary, though." She sighed. "It's been a stressful week for all of us, Nick. You should take a day off once you got back home. Why don't you refresh yourself. Stefi just told me that we're going land in one hour." *** "Pilar, you're coming with us to the Leanne's bachelorette party, right?" The pudgy 26-year-old Latina who was sitting inside the passport control near the entry gate turned her head to her friend beside her. "Now?" she replied. "Our shift finishes in five minutes," Linda said. She stood up and walked out of her booth. " Paul and Jim are ready to take over." "We still have incoming," Pilar pointed at the far gate where the passengers would come from. "It's just a government airplane. Only a handful of passengers" "Then it won't take long time." She shrugged and smiled to her friend. "Okay, I go first. You wait for Paul and Jim then meet me at the office. I want to show you the dress we bought last time." "Which one? We've bought so many dresses over this month." Linda laughed. "You know, the little black dress. The one we bought at the boutique downtown. "That dress is a little bit slutty, isn't it? You sure you'd wear it to the party?" she chirped. "That's why I need your advice, honey." Linda winked to her friend. She left Pilar and walked away. The plump girl chuckled and shook her head lightly as she watched Linda disappeared from her sight. She returned to her desk and took out a small case from the drawer. She opened it and found out her eyeglasses. She put the glasses on, patted her beehive hairdo and straightened up her uniform, getting ready to serve the incoming passengers. Seconds later, she saw a man coming out the arrival chamber, looking like he just got back from a long flight. He approached the Pilar's locket and behind him was a brunette -seemed to his assistant. The man handed his passport to Pilar. She opened it, skimming over the documentation. "Good afternoon, Mr. Chambers. Welcome home. Where have you come from?" she asked him. "Karachi, Pakistan," he replied. Pilar's eyes widened. She looked at Nicholas's face with a surprised look. "Hey, I know you. I saw it in the news. You are going to be the next chairman of the Nuclear Council, right? Well, congratulations, Sir." "Not yet, Ma'am." Nicholas smiled. "In the next two weeks we will know for sure." "I wish you all good luck," she said as she gave him back his passport. Nicholas walked away passing the passport control. Pilar continued serving the brunette woman, Carole Garber. After the passengers had gone, Pilar returned her glasses to its case and spent the next several minutes typing on her computer, waiting for her colleagues to take over the shift. When she saw Paul and Jim approaching her locket, she stopped typing, gathered her stuffs and walked out her locket. "Linda is waiting for you, Pilar," said Paul. "I know, I know. I'm on my way." She grinned. "See you tomorrow, guys." "Have fun at the party," said Jim. She walked to the main office which was located at the other side of the airport. She passed through throngs of people scurrying around to catch their flights: businessmen, backpackers, touring musicians, athletes and foreign tourists. As she turned to a corner, she drew out a small device which looked like a small remote. She took another turn to another corridor which has a sign "Closed for renovation". She pressed one button on the device and it emitted a short buzz. The buzz would hack all the security cameras around her vicinity. Nobody would know about her activity in this area. Pilar kept walking until she reached a janitor room in a secluded corner. She opened the door, walked in and locked it from inside. The room was dark. She turned the lights on. Inside was a woman's body slumped on the floor. She was unconscious and half-naked. Her Latina face, tan skin and chubby body closely resembled Pilar's. Pilar stretched her arms and neck, enjoying the feel of her uniform on her curves. She undo her beehive and it fell down to her shoulders. Her palms travelled to her neck as she dabbed the surface of her skin, searching for a seam on its surface. Once she found it, she gave it a quick massage to create an opening on the neck skin. She slid her finger inside the opening and peeled out her face. The mask came off smoothly. Beneath the mask was a blonde man with crew cut hair. His face and his white skin was in contrast with the rest of his tan and very feminine body. He took out the glasses case and put them on. He lifted his dainty fingers and tapped the surface of the glasses twice. The lenses glowed as it changed from ordinary eyeglasses into a touch-screen computer. The two lenses displayed a series of data and information. He blinked several times to browse on the computer/eyeglasses, looking for the data. The eyeglasses technology allowed its user to operate it using the combination of blinks and eyeball movements. When he found the data she was looking for, he blinked twice to activate one file. It was the picture of Nicholas Chamber. The one 'Pilar' just took at the passport control. Superimposed on the picture were biometrics data and preliminary analysis focusing on Nicholas eyes. He blinked and the picture of Nicholas eyes was zoomed-in. It was enlarged a few hundred times. A caption appeared: "Preliminary analysis - Level 9: Extreme Hypnosis." 'Pilar' blinked again and waited for a second to activate the eyeglasses' telephone feature. 'She' heard a dial tone through the mini receiver installed in the handles of her eyeglasses. Somebody picked up the call. "This is Cottontail," 'Pilar' said. 'Her' voice changed dramatically from high-pitched feminine voice into a deeper, masculine one. "Any update?" answered the man from the other side. "You were right. I think they already had him." "Can you confirm that?" "I'm sending you the intel right now," the fake Pilar said. 'She' blinked several times and the file was sent away. "Well done, agent. The muses will analyze it thoroughly." "How about the guy who killed Griffin and Cricket? Can we nail him?" "We're still working on it. But don't worry. We're going to catch this SOB no matter what. You're job here is done, Cotton tail." Cottontail looked at the unconscious body on the floor. The woman was the real Pilar. Yesterday, he received an order from his superior in Incog to infiltrate the airport facility and gather data on Nicholas Chambers. Incog suspected that Nicholas Chamber had been hypnotized on his flight back home from Karachi. He didn't find any trouble sedating and subduing the real Pilar Ramona. Afterwards, it was business as usual for a trained Incog agent like him. The girls are having a party tonight, he thought. That gave him an idea. He could go as her. Her friends wouldn't know. It won't hurt. He knew Pilar's basic information and gestures. He was confident that he could flawlessly impersonate her. "Sir, I have one request," he said. "Could you send somebody to collect the real Pilar here and took her back to her apartment?" "Do you want to stay as her for tonight?" "Yes, Sir." When Pilar wakes up tomorrow, she would not remember anything. She would think that she was drunk the whole night. And he wouldn't need to use extreme hypnosis to wipe her memory clean. "I give you the permission. I'll sent somebody to take care of her. Enjoy your night, Cottontail." He disconnected the call. Cottontail tapped the lenses again to turn the computer off. Right at that moment, Pilar's cellphone rang. Cottontail looked at the screen and smiled mischievously. It was Linda. He picked up the call. "Hello?" "Pilar, where are you? We're waiting for you, girl. Are you going or not?" "I'm on my way, Linda..." he said sweetly in Pilar's voice. "...I'll be there." Authors Note: After writing the first prologue several months ago, I began to feel that there were several ideas and images I need to incorporate into the prologue. So, I spent several weeks to plot this extended chapter. In my mind, I intended to use these prologues as a spring board for the next story-arc. For the next issues, well... I can only say that the seeds of the ideas already exist (in a couple of bullet points). I may need some time to develop them into a complete chapter. We'll see about that. As usual, please let me know what you think. I welcome any advice and suggestion. Your critics are invaluable to me.