The Twin Society

The Twin Society

"I don't know how long we can go on like this, Darius."

"We keep scraping and scratching until we find enough work to rent a trailer, " I told my twin sister.

Deanne was beautiful, even under all the dirt and old clothes. Her blond hair was almost brown and was matted together. We were desperate for some shelter as it had been weeks of living out of garbage bins and sleeping in doorways. I used to look at these poor bastards and wonder how things got that bad. Now I knew it was as easy as mom getting cancer just before our sixteenth birthday and us ending up in a foster home where the 'father' wanted to be more than a dad to my sister.

Here we are two years later, cold and hungry, and deciding if we should bait a John into taking Deanne into the alley and me stealing all his money. Well, that's the plan, and it was looking better and better the more desperate we got.

"Fuck it. Get into the back of the alley behind the bins." Deanne said, waving me away as a nice car rolled around the corner.

"Want to party?" She said, leaning in the window.

"You look a little young."

"Are you a cop?" She asked as I resisted peeking around the bins.

"No, but I don't want to meet any either." The man behind the wheel said.

"I'm eighteen. I have ID." Deanne answered.

"Do I get a room?"

"I'm not getting into a car with anyone. We can sneak down the alley. If we are quick."

I heard the handbrake go on and the door open. But from my hiding spot, I couldn't see the guy. I heard footsteps come close to me then Deanne pressed herself against the wall.

"Your wallet!" I yelled, jumping to my feet only to find myself face to face with a much bigger man.

The stick I had in my hand seemed inadequate for the job, but I was committed now. My only hope was that this guy was a wimp that didn't want to fight. I pushed Deanne behind me and pressed forward with the piece of wood in front of me.

"You did this all wrong."

"Your wallet, now!"

"You should be in the open end of the alley so you can get away. Now I have you trapped with only one way to get out."

"What way?"

"Through me." He said and took a pose I hadn't seen in any movie.

I moved to the left two steps, and Deanne moved with me. We didn't need to communicate the moves; we knew what the other would do. I darted in with a big swing, but he blocked my arm, and the stick went flying, bouncing off the brick wall and clattering to the ground.

"Look at you two working together. It's like you know what the other is thinking. You wouldn't happen to be twins by any chance?" He asked, standing more neutrally and reaching into his back pocket.

"What do you care?" Deanne asked as she moved against the wall.

"Are we going or not?" A lady called from the back of the car as the window went down, revealing that she had very similar features to him.

"Twins, Tara; I'm letting them go."

"Well, let's go. We have a job." She yelled, and he held out his hand.

"Call this number when you are ready to change your life."

He held out a folded bill with a business card on top. I tentatively reached out and took it from his hand, still rubbing my wrist from the stinging block. When I unfolded the bill, it was twenty dollars, more than I had seen in a long time.

"This is..." But he was already closing the car door.

"What was that?" Deanne asked, still clinging to the wall.

"A reprieve, I think," I said, still amazed at the note in front of me.

"Who was he?"

I looked at the card, "Ian Ford, Dayton International."

I took Deanne's hand and dragged her to the corner store on the next block. We rushed through the place like mad men picking out bags of food and throwing them onto the counter. We took our arms full of snacks to the park and sat on the swings, stuffing our faces forgetting all the shit around us for those few stolen moments.

I gave the change to Deanne, who stuffed it into her panties, and we took the remainder of our food, pushed it into my backpack, and tried to find somewhere to sleep. It was too late to get into any of the shelters. We found an office building with a deep glass entry that might block out some of the icy wind.

The sun came peeking through the gap in the buildings. Almost no one was around, only some garbage trucks picking up yesterday's refuse. I looked down at Deanne, her cute nose peeking out from my jacket as her breath caused ice crystals to form on the collar.

"Stop staring at me."

"But you are so beautiful."

"You are the only one that sees me."

"What happens when this money runs out?"

"You want to call him, don't you?" she asked, cuddling to my side.

"He might not take the call when he finds out how bad we smell."

"Well, let's go see the nuns before we call him. It's embarrassing enough that we need work so desperately that we are willing to do whatever kinky shit he is after. But to do it in this state." She said, smelling her sleeve.

"You think it's porn?"

"What else would he want twins for?" Deanne said as she led the way to the church grounds.

As I came out of the men's shower looking and smelling half respectable, I saw Deanne emerge in her donated clothes. None fit properly, but at least we were clean for the first time in what felt like weeks.

"Father, could we use a phone? We have an offer for work and.."

"Of course, my son. As long as it's not international."

"It's just a mobile number," Deanne added as we went to the phone in the corner.

I held the receiver between our heads so we could hear and dialed the number. It rang a few times then a lady answered the call.

"Dayton International, how can I direct your call?"

"I would like to talk to Ian Ford, please."

"Hold the line." She said, and we could hear some lousy music for a few seconds.

"Ian speaking." He yelled, and it sounded like he was in a wind tunnel.

"You asked us to ring. What's the catch?"

"Too many to talk about over the phone. But if you are desperate enough by now, go to the business counter at JFK at five, and follow the instructions on the tickets waiting for you."

"Who said we are that desperate?" Deanne asked.

"What the fuck do you have to lose at this point?"

"We will think about it," I said, but he was right about our situation.

"Thank Farther Murphy for the use of the phone. Let him know I will send in a donation for you." Ian said as the wind noise in the phone cut off.

"Father, thank you for the phone. Mr. Ford said to let you know he will be sending in a donation for the help."

"Well, thank you, and good luck with the job."

I felt silly lining up with all the suits in my 'charity bin' clothes. But sure enough, when I said my name, the impeccably dressed lady handed over a folder with two tickets inside. Deane and I huddled in the corner and pulled out the itinerary. It had some simple instructions to follow.

"Are we going?" I asked, but Deanne was already pushing me toward the terminal marked on the sheet of paper.

We arrived well before the time, and to my surprise, the terminal was empty other than one lady with a safety vest and a walkie-talkie on her hip.

"Deanne and Darius?"

"Yep," I acknowledged after a moment's hesitation.

"Follow me," she said, pushing the door behind her open and taking the walkie-talkie in her hand. "Two coming aboard."

I looked at Deanne; she was just as puzzled as me. We walked out onto the tarmac and followed the striped pathway until we came up beside the shiniest white plane I had ever seen. There was a red carpet with the words Dayton International in gold writing woven into the center.

The lady stopped near the stairs and pointed her arm up into the cabin. "Thanks," I said, as I passed her like I did this shit every day.

"Hi, I'm Captain Andrews. Here are your passports. A customs officer will be coming onboard in a few moments to check those."

I opened mine, and it looked legit; even the photo was perfect, but I don't remember ever having it taken. "What the Fuck?" Deanne whispered, only to be cut off by the customs guy coming up the stairs.

"Passports, please."

I handed over mine, and he took a long look at it before returning it. Then taking a similar time checking Deanne's, he ticked some boxes on his checklist and disappeared the way he came.

"Buckle up. We are taking off in five."

"Where are we going?" I asked, before the Captain had a chance to turn.

"Tentra Island." He said, then stepped into the cockpit.

"Where the fuck is Tentra Island?" Deanne asked, trying to find her seatbelt.

"Not in the USA, that's for sure."

The takeoff was fast. I had only flown once before, and it was nothing like this. We banked sharply to the left and climbed what felt like vertically, but I knew from the view it was only about half that.

"Where is this island, do you think?" Deanne asked when we leveled off, and she relaxed her death grip on the armrests.

"South Pacific, if we keep heading in this direction."

"Fuck."

"I'll say."

"We are at cruising level, and there are another eight hours until I need you to be seated again for landing. Take a walk around if you want to, and there are showers in the bathroom at the rear of the plane. Food and refreshments are in the galley, so make yourself at home." the captain said over the speakers in the ceiling.

I couldn't believe that the food and drinks were just for us. I kept passing food over to Deanne, and she piled it onto her fold-out table. I opened a water bottle for each of us and sat beside her. I watched her open every packet of the snacks, sampling something from each, then going for a second round.

The novelty of the food soon wore off, and we fell asleep in the comfortable reclining chairs. I was jolted awake by the shift in the pitch of the plane seconds before the captain came over the intercom with his announcement. "Time to buckle up again. We are ten minutes from the airstrip."

He came in steeply, only leveling out at the last second to touchdown far more smoothly than the last time I flew. I looked out the window; there was no airport; only a jeep and a fuel truck waiting at the edge of the strip. We stepped down the stairs into the humid, warm, sea air, breathing deeply, as if it was the first time we had fresh air in our lungs.

"I will just fuel up and be on my way." The captain said, heading for the fuel truck and rolling out a hose.

"I'll help," I said, heading over and dragging out more hose for him.

"Thanks, Darius, but I can handle it from here. Don't keep the girls waiting." He said, nodding at Deanne and the woman waiting in the jeep.

"Now that you are both together, my name is Tara, and welcome to home base," Tara said as Deanne climbed into the passenger seat.

"Home base for what?" I asked as I stepped over into the back of the jeep.

"Your questions will be answered soon enough."

The old jeep was fast and handled the bumps and turns in the road better than something its age should. We emerged from the overgrown vegetation to pass through an automatic gate that swung closed behind us. I was looking in every direction and noticed Deanne doing the same. I was no longer expecting to find a porn set, but an experimental lab didn't seem out of the question.

Tara drove past a large building onto a field, pulling up next to a windsock. She stepped out of the car, and we followed. If nothing else, I was interested in what this was all about and couldn't wait to find out. I could tell from Deanne's body language that she was more worried than I was. I kept my composure to reassure her everything was OK, even if I wasn't so sure.

I heard wind noise and the fluttering of fabric. Looking up at the last second, a shadow covered us. I saw Ian pulling on cords to direct his landing, coming to an easy rest a few feet away.

"You made it. Was the flight alright?"

"Very good," I answered truthfully. I think we were supposed to be impressed, and it did the trick.

"Why are we here?" I asked, trying to get to the point so they could kick us out if they were going to.

"Let's go inside, and I will explain." He said as he unbuckled his harness and stepped out of it.

The Society

"In the first three months of nineteen-forty-five, over four million military servicemen and women died on all sides of the war. Leaving tens of thousands, if not millions, of orphans without a home or means to support themselves. A chance meeting of two sets of twins changed their lives forever." Ian started and pointed to a photo on the wall of two late teenage twins standing in front of an old car.

I had a thousand questions running around in my head, but I held back and let him continue.

"Both of their parents were very rich, but tragedy struck twice. They lost their fathers in the war and their mothers to sickness in the same year. Each had an unspoken connection with their twin, something well documented today but was only myth and legend at the time."

"Something we have?" Deanne asked.

"We had been told about you a while back and I confirmed it in the alley. You move together without even looking at each other. Training someone to do it that well would take months or even years."

"We have had a lifetime." I offered.

"Anything I say after this point will need to be confidential. Tara has some agreements for you to sign, and if you are interested in moving on with our offer, you will need to sign them." Ian said as the papers were placed in front of us.

"Not porn, then?" Deanne said as she picked up the pen.

"No, not porn," Ian replied with a chuckle.

Deanne moved to start signing the paperwork after a cursory read.

"You two don't need to discuss this?" Tara asked.

"Already did. Darius has no problem with signing, so I will too." Deanne answered, and Tara smiled broadly.

"The twins had a fire in their bellies and a chip on their shoulders; but a common hatred for the world's tyrants that seemed above the law. I'm not talking about political leaders or mass murderers. But the super-rich and heads of gangs and mafia, who use the borders of countries as protection. Their first interests were the Nazis that fled to South America, and the society had some success; like dealing with Joseph Mengele."

"He drowned?" I questioned; I had some memory of my history lessons.

"The thought of him living on a beach in Brazil just didn't sit right with them, after he experimented and caused the death of thousands of twins in Auschwitz. So, working as a team, the two ladies got his attention as the men used scuba rebreathers to help him get the full underwater experience available in Brazil."

"Angel of Death," I whispered when I put two and two together.

"So, you are some sort of death squad?" Deanne asked.

"There are many ways to affect these men and women. But in the most extreme cases, we might push them in that direction. Often we only need to get them into the hands of someone that wants what we want but can't touch them for some political reason or border."

"Where do we come in?" I asked, worried I was going to be a hitman.

"It has taken eighty years to get this society to the size and capabilities it has today, and with the backing of old-school inherited money, we have been able to enhance the connections between us twins, to the point that we are a force to be reckoned with."

"Captain America shit," I said, worried about being strapped to a table.

"No. Hell no! We have found medicines, meditations, and mental conditioning that have strengthened our bonds. Something we have had since spending nine months in a womb together. You looked like you needed some... direction. We need new blood."

"Charity?" Deanne asked, and I could feel her anger rising, so I put my hand on hers.

"You have a skill, a trait that we find very valuable, and we would like you to join us. My brother and I have loved every minute of this life, but with only a few dozen teams worldwide, we could easily become known to the wrong people. In return, you have a monthly allowance, food, and a home here. No more sleeping in doorways, eating once a week, or showering at a church. And maybe you get to do more good, in this shitty world, than any government or police force ever could. It's a benefit to both parties." Tara said, moving to her brother's side.

"There have to be more downsides than that," I said, as she made it sound too good to be true.

"There always is. You burn your old life and can never return until you leave the society forever. Relationships and marriage won't really work, while you two jet around the world. So, yes, there are some downsides, as you suspected."

"Not like I'm knocking them back, while eating out of a dumpster at the back of a supermarket," Deanne said, and I hung my head too.

"Put all that behind you and join us. Take a day, shower, and change. We have prepared food for you and soft beds to sleep in." Ian said, waving to a lady who had just entered the room. "Jess, take Deanne and Darius to their room. There are some clothes to change into that I think might fit a little better."

We followed Jess along a hallway with portraits of twins hanging on each side. We passed the most enormous room I had ever seen. It was bigger than Father Murphy's church. It had a long table with dozens of tall back chairs along either side. We followed her through another short hall and into a room with two beds and two wardrobes with a selection of clothes.

"You go first, Dee." I offered and stood in front of the wardrobe with the male clothes.

"Thanks." She said as she took a robe and headed into the bathroom. I was worried about the glass door and saw the same expression on Deanne's face until it locked, and the glass went frosted.

"Did you see that?" She said as she opened the door again.

"Didn't know that even existed," I said, smiling at her amazement.

I lay my clothes on my bed, picked up a pair of Calvin Klein boxers, and waited with my towel over my arm. The shower had stopped ages ago, but the door remained closed. I was about to knock and ask if she was OK when the frost disappeared, and Deanne and I were face to face.

"Thought you went down the drain." I joked as the door opened.

"Trying to get some knots out of my hair. Sorry."

"Good shower?"

"Incredible." She answered, her skin all pink from the heat.

When I returned, she was dressed and doing her hair. She was already beautiful, but now I could see the curves that had been hiding under oversized clothes. Deanne, like me, was too skinny but otherwise in perfect proportion. Her butt and breasts projected about the same amount, and her hips had just the right amount of flare.

We followed our noses back to the large room to find food and plate settings arranged around one end. I half expected Ian to be on one end and Tara on the other. I sat on one side with Deanne beside me while Ian and his sister sat across from us.

"Eat. You have some weight to regain," Tara said, waving at the delicious-looking food.

I watched as the pair moved in sync, passing dishes and condiments to each other without a spoken word. We did the same thing on the streets, shying away from potential danger together when we knew the other might be frightened. This was next level stuff, communicating without movement or eye contact. Deanne saw me watching them, but she had a dreamy look in her eyes.

"What?" I whispered.

"They are like an old married couple. It's like... beautiful."

"Something you wanted to ask?" Tara said.

"How long did it take to be like that?" She asked, gesturing to their hands, exchanging a salt shaker and their fingers touching gently.

"The training lasts six months, with the drug therapy ongoing until your brain patterns are permanent.