The Gemini Deception Read Online Free

world—past, present, and future. Not because men were better at it but because they were testosterone-fueled monkeys who needed to pound their chests, claim power, and play war, regardless of how much it cost or how the wars got funded. In her mind, men weren’t concerned about children or women getting killed or whether the sons and fathers of their country died. They wanted power and they wanted to win, and the rest was merely collateral damage.
    TQ understood the sentiment. She, too, valued power more than any single or collective life, and she was well positioned to exploit it. She knew power in any form was born of money, which in turn bred corruption, and the rich were divided into two inseparable categories: those who practiced their power on stage and the ones behind the scenes who helped them launder their riches. TQ was in the latter category and reveled in the knowledge that so many influential people depended on her to keep their secrets and make them look good. When it came right down to it, she was the one with true control. She was a necessary evil, and as long as she was necessary, she was God.
    TQ leafed through her private phone book, containing the names of movers and shakers on both sides of the law, as well as the more obscure individuals who did her dirty work. Most were people whose numbers were impossible to find, although a few of the underworld figures practically handed out business cards because they were either too arrogant or too stupid to be careful. Russian mob boss Yuri Dratshev fell somewhere in between.
    She reached for the phone. “Time to deal with the president,” she said aloud as she dialed the unlisted number to Dratshev’s Manhattan Beach, New York mansion. She’d previously avoided contact with the Russian disease of a man; he was vulgar, uneducated, and without any decorum. But though she despised him, he had much to lose as well should the president get her way, and he had some of the best warlords on his side. If they combined forces, something he’d always begged for because of TQ’s reputation, it was only a matter of time before this ridiculous weapons agenda ended up on the massive pile of unkept political promises.
    “I’m looking for Yuri Dratshev,” TQ said loudly, to be heard over the blaring sound of the TV in the background. She didn’t own a set herself—they were annoying, misleading contraptions deliberately designed to numb the mind.
    “This is him,” came the heavily accented reply.
    TQ rolled her eyes. Second-generation immigrant and he still couldn’t speak the language correctly. “Good evening, Yuri. You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting me in person, though I know you’ve wanted to.”
    “Who the shit are you?” the Russian mob boss replied. “I don’t need to meet anyone. How did you get my number?”
    “Is this a secure line?” she asked.
    “Yes, line is safe,” he replied dubiously. “Who is this?”
    “My name is TQ.”
    There was a long pause, then a clicking in the phone line and the maddening blare of the TV stopped. “Now it is a secure line,” Dratshev finally said. “What a pleasure.”
    “I’m sure.”
    “Finally, we meet.”
    “I wouldn’t go as far as a meeting,” TQ said, “but I do have a collaboration plan in mind.”
    “I would very much like business with you,” Dratshev said. “Big business, yes?”
    “Big, yes.”
    “I am all hears.”
    “The expression is ‘ears,’” she said patiently, trying hard not to second-guess her choice. “But that aside, we have a certain problem in common.”
    “You mean guns.”
    “Indeed.”
    “That bitch is a big problem.”
    “Problems are like a cancer,” she said. “They become a big problem and spread only when they aren’t dealt with on time.”
    “I like the way you think.”
    “Good.”
    “So you see where I’m going.”
    “You have a cancer?” Dratshev asked.
    TQ rubbed her eyes tiredly at his inanity. “No, I’m fine, thank you. The