He crossed off the third last task on the A4 pad, only the purging of the physical backups at the primary site in Utah and at Fort Dix remained to complete.

  The image of shooting his men flooded his mind again, and he violently shook his head.

  Slamming his fists into the desktop, he cursed, “Fuck it! The job is hard. I did what I had to do. How many more would die if there were no one to maintain stability? Millions? Billions? The world is a fucking nightmare.”

  The weight of recent events weighed heavily upon him, he momentarily shivered, and the darkness crept closer. He reached for options the way a drowning man would reach for anything to cling to. He could create a new ghost identity. Someone with money, not too much but enough. A ghost living a long way away - somewhere like New Zealand.

  He lifted his coffee mug, taking a full mouthful, his eyes unfocused as his mind spun away.

  I could escape and remain … human.

  He frowned, putting the mug back down onto the desktop. At the Boston warehouse, Chloe Armitage’s sword had appeared in her hand faster than the eye could follow. Certain death had stared him in the face - she was a vampire, one of many, and sure enough, they would hunt him down and kill him.

  He had courage to spare in any fight where his own skills could make a difference, but in a fight against the Vampire Dominion, there was no chance of victory. His eyes dropped, his shoulders sagged, and he sighed loudly as all vestiges of hope fled from his life.

  Chloe Armitage’s words echoed in his mind. ‘You are on a new path now, embrace it, and all will be well.’

  He barked a single bitter laugh.

  The light within him died. A spiritual candle snuffed out in a winter storm. The desire to serve his country that had inspired him to join the US Army, the CIA and finally Shadowstone, died silently. He’d wanted to make a difference. He’d wanted his life to matter. He’d dedicated his life to being the best at whatever he turned his hand to - now none of that seemed to matter - none of it at all.

  The creeping darkness engulfed him.

  James spent the next five minutes staring silently at the computer screen. Once the screen saver came on, he stood up. He looked around, spotted a long couch, walked over to it, laid down upon it, and was asleep in moments.

  He screamed once in his sleep, his arms flailing wildly - but no one was there to hear it.

  * * *

  Chloe stood before the full-length windows of her Manhattan penthouse apartment.

  The windows were composed of the same dark transparent armor of the nightfalcon canopies. The heavy shielding of the transparent armor, the only thing protecting her from swift death. She could see the ball of the sun, rising into the mid-morning sky. With a deep, longing to walk in open sunlight coiling quietly within her soul, she considered her options.

  Chloe mentally ticked the items off in her mind. One, find out where the Mirovar force team’s safe house was so she could keep an eye on Anton Slayne. Two, find out the details of the Crane-Kain detente, and three, do it quickly before events got away from her.

  With the quantum signature of Ramin Kain’s smartphone, she could make a single, full access call to his phone. As soon as he realized it had been compromised, he would surely destroy it. There would be precious seconds where she could use the phone’s own systems to record voice prints, take photos and video. A treasure trove of useful information that could be used to seed Panopticon searches.

  Once found by the Panopticon, it would be a relatively simple matter to hunt him down and disrupt his plans, or even kill him. However, all searches would have to be done secretly. Chloe would not be able to justify how she knew who Kain was without revealing too much about her own capabilities to Crane. With the Crane-Kain detente almost a certainty, Crane would not forgive such a step against his own carefully cultivated plans. He would likely reward her with a suicide mission against the Red Empire.

  Today would be Kain’s final test. She would capture the information she needed from his phone. She would then use the Panopticon to track his location. She was sure that he would lead her to the current safe house of the Mirovar force team and Anton Slayne.

  Chloe’s eyes glittered like burning coals. Crane wanted to know who Anton Smith was. If Kain was the traitor, then Crane would have asked Kain to investigate from within the Order of Thoth. As soon as Kain found out that Anton Slayne existed, he would no doubt conclude that Anton Smith was a cover identity, but which name would he give to Crane, Smith or Slayne?

  Chloe retraced the brief that she’d received for the recovery of the Papyrus of Hakron the Scribe. Her eidetic memory enabled perfect and certain recall. There was no mention of the name Smith anywhere in the brief, it was only about Anna and William Slayne and the residence in Jamaica Plain.

  It was her own mission preparations that had revealed the Smith cover identity and the existence of Anton Slayne. It was an unresolved mystery as to why the Smith cover identity was not made visible to the Vampire Dominion. A fact she was thankful for, as her own plans would have been rendered impossible if Crane knew that Anton Smith was really Arthur Slayne’s grandson.

  The only real possibility was that whoever informed on the Slaynes knew them by sight, and in their own mind never thought of them as other than Slaynes. Such a person would have reported the existence of Anna and William Slayne to Crane without mention of a cover identity that had nothing to do with the presence of the Papyrus of Hakron the Scribe.

  It was clear that for some reason Kain had missed the existence of Anton Slayne.

  If Kain told Crane that the other survivor was Anton Slayne, then her plans would be in tatters as Crane would seek out Anton and destroy him. Even worse, Crane could easily conclude that Chloe had been duped by the cover identity, or had deliberately lied to him. Most likely, he would decide that she’d deceived him and there would be a long wait in a silver coffin in her future or summary execution.

  She stood in perfect stillness. Staring through her window, she stopped breathing. It would be necessary to put the knowledge of Anton Slayne’s existence at risk to find out more - there was no other way. Her eyelids closed as she calculated the risks. She resumed breathing, the decision made.

  Chloe opened her eyes. It was essential that she was able to track Kain’s movements as soon as possible, and Anton Slayne would make the perfect bait. She picked up her smartphone and placed a call using the stolen quantum signature.

  * * *

  The beautiful Monday morning sunshine beamed out of a bright blue sky, gracing Midtown East Manhattan with a relaxing summer ambiance.

  Ramin Kain adjusted his 24kt gold aviator Ray-Ban sunglasses for a slightly better fit on his nose. He used a fork full of the last of his Atlantic salmon to chase down the final bit of yolk from a pair of poached eggs. The rest of his plate held the half-eaten remains of rye toast, smashed avocado, grilled tomatoes, and mushrooms. He’d ordered an espresso instead of a cafe latte since recently committing to watching his waistline.

  Opposite him sat Samuel Luther, his lean frame neatly attired in a new suit. His plate had been scraped clean, and he was already drinking his second, long black coffee. Even sitting still, he always struck Ramin as a man possessed of excessive nervous energy (or a mind-blowing coke habit). Ramin was thankful he’d found Sam. He was an excellent and able junior partner in his ventures. They shared the same values, politics, and predilections. If Sam had been a woman of even average good looks, Ramin would have seriously considered marrying her.

  Pushing his breakfast plate back, Ramin sipped his espresso. He savored the flavor of an exclusive Costa Rican blend and soaked up the pleasant ambiance of an early summer Monday morning.

  Ramin’s smartphone rang. He waited for it to buzz to one less than the maximum six before it would divert to voice mail. He looked at the screen and picked up the phone. He realized at the last moment that the caller was unknown and he stabbed at the answer button.

  “Hello, who’s calling?” he asked brusquely, curiosity flooding through him.

  “A friend,” declared a wonderfully modulated feminine voice with a dash of upper-class English polish.

  “A friend eh?” he noted skeptically. “You must be a genius or insane to ring this phone.”

  The woman laughed briefly. “Is there a difference?”

  Ramin tapped his fingers impatiently on the table top, and he asked in a low tight voice, “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

  “It’s not who I am that matters, it’s what I know.”

  “Don’t play games with me girly. This is a private number; how did you get it?”

  “Let’s just say that a little bird told me and leave it at that.”

  Ramin growled, and snapped, “I told you not to play games.”

  “No Games. There is something that you should know.”

  “What?”

  “Anton Slayne is with the Mirovar force team.”

  Ramin froze. The fine breakfast he’d just enjoyed, suddenly a dead weight in the pit of his stomach. A moment later the call disconnected.

  Ramin looked at his phone with horror. He stood up, moving briskly outside he smashed it to pieces on the sidewalk. Sam rushed after him.

  “Who was that?” Sam inquired urgently.

  “I don’t know?” Ramin replied, frowning as he ground the phone into fragments with his heel. “Get the valet to bring the car around.”

  “Sure, RK, where are we going?”

  “Maine - but first, I need a new phone.”

  Oh hell, Ramin thought with growing dismay. The other survivor at the Boston warehouse was Anton Slayne. How did I miss the fact that Anna and William Slayne had a son? I’ll have to deal with this immediately.

  * * *

  Chloe mused, should I assassinate the Head of the Order of Thoth?

  She lowered her smartphone. She’d only spoken with Ramin Kain once, and already she didn’t like him. He’d made her wait as long as he could before he’d picked up the phone, he was clearly self-important. Studying the images stripped from his smartphone while he was speaking, she noted his gold sunglasses, the expensive suit, the upmarket cafe. His vanity and pride were on full display. He’d arrogantly called her ‘girly.’ She smiled ruthlessly, Kain had some obvious weaknesses that she would enjoy exploiting as she crushed him.

  She grasped and rubbed her jaw. She considered killing Kain tonight. Just to be sure he couldn’t interfere with her plans, and damn the risk of discovery.

  Looking at the rack on her wall that held her swords, the Red Dragon was conspicuous in its absence. A pang went through her soul. She missed her favorite blade. She consoled herself with the knowledge the praetorians would return it soon.

  Staring at the gap where the Red Dragon normally rested. A realization struck her. Kain’s recent words roared through her memory. His pride, vanity, and arrogance would not allow him to ever admit he’d done anything wrong. No one else knew his darkest secret, not even the flunky who was having breakfast with him. She hummed with satisfaction. The only option that Kain had was to tell Crane that it was Anton Smith who was with the Wu family on the Boston docks. Kain would confirm her own story.

  Chloe went to her desk, opened her laptop and logged into the Panopticon. She pulled up all the available data on the identity that matched the photos of Anton taken by CCTV outside the Noodle House. The new cover constructed by James Haley was quickly revealed. Anton Smith had been abandoned days after his birth, his parents were never found. He was made a ward of the state of Massachusetts until his eighteenth birthday on April the twenty sixth of this year. He’d then left the orphanage and lived on the streets for a short while before being taken in by Gang Wu. His history matched the new identity, his schools, and sports teams were the same, even library cards, bank accounts, social media all reflected the new identity, every reference to parents pointed back to the state, the home address was always the orphanage.

  Chloe considered the problem of Anton’s Ramp skills. She reasoned Gang must have used the pressure point technique for Ramp activation. She knew Crane would accept it as an explanation for Anton’s skills and his sudden appearance from nowhere.

  She ran a second search on Anna and William Smith. Anna came back as deceased, a victim of an unsolved murder. William was still missing, and there was no reference to a child. Online photos had been scrubbed, Anton erased, and the backgrounds extrapolated and filled in as if he’d never existed. Even gestures and body language were subtly modified to ensure the images still made sense.

  Chloe was impressed; the work was without flaw.

  She returned to the previous query on the doubly fake identity of Anton Smith. She drew down what she needed to compose a report for Crane. The report would be perfect and just as she’d promised, would be on his desk tonight.

  She picked up her smartphone and dialed Louise Wesson’s phone. She knew that James had her phone, his own had been destroyed during the battle in Boston. The phone rang out and went to voice mail. Chloe tried again with the same result.

  Chloe frowned and remarked disdainfully, “Humans - what’s a vampire got to do to get something done?”

  * * *

  James woke up. Someone was shaking his shoulder.

  “Sir. Wake up, Sir,” the operative enthused loudly.

  James opened his eyes; he was lying on a couch in the Boston Shadowstone offices at the local R.I.S.C building. He blinked, swung his legs down and sat up. The man shaking his shoulder stepped back as James rubbed his face with both hands. He looked up at the man standing in front of him. The operative wore a fresh suit, was clean shaven, bright eyed and thoroughly energized.

  James wanted to vomit; his mouth was filled with the taste of stale coffee. He desperately wanted a cigarette but had run out the night before. This day was starting as badly as the previous night had ended.

  “The boss rang,” the young operative reported. “She wants you to ring her ASAP.”

  James rubbed his ears and his cheeks. Everything was clogged up in his head. He sniffed once and muttered, “Yeah, Okay. I got it.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Dismissed Rose. Good job,” James stated, blinking and frowning.

  The young man quickly left the room.

  James got off the couch, went to the kitchenette and drank a couple of large glasses of water. He returned to his desk, picked up Louise Wesson’s phone and dialed Chloe’s smartphone, it rang once before it was picked up.

  There was a moment of silence before James inquired, “Ma’am, you asked me to call?”

  “Yes James, you owe me a text,” Chloe reminded him.

  “My apologies Ma’am. The lapse is inexcusable.”

  “I’m going to overlook it this one time.”

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  “I’ve checked your work. It is precisely what I was looking for, immaculate, very well done.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  “Now that task is completed, I need you focused on a new mission.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” James replied. “What do you need?”

  “I have a new target for you named Ramin Kain, I want you to track his whereabouts, and if possible, record his communications. However, I also want this done off the Panopticon record. Make immediate offline copies of the material and scrub the online records.”

  “I will need your level of security access to be able to do that.”

  “Granted - the privileges that I gave you last night have been extended indefinitely.”

  James paused for a moment digesting the implications of her words. Chloe Armitage was trusting him enormously.

  “Is the target using quantum technologies?” James asked, his interest flaring like a new flame.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have his quantum signature?”

  “No, but I have excellent photos, his voice print, and I know that he will be traveling from New York today. I’ve just sent you the details, if you act quickly, you should be able to pick him up.”

  “When do you want reports?”

  “Daily - by physical drop at this address,” Chloe instructed, providing a dead drop location in Manhattan.

  “Yes, Ma’am. Why is this target so important?”

  “Kain is the Head of the Order of Thoth,” Chloe declared.

  “… Yes, Ma’am,” James replied with quiet intensity. His heart surged with new life. Here was a real purpose that he could sink his teeth into.

  “You are the only person that I can trust to get this done,” Chloe affirmed, her voice glowing with approval.

  James’ chest swelled with pride.

  “Yes, Ma’am, I will see it done.”

  “I’m sure that you will,” Chloe declared confidently.

  “Is there anything that I should be on the lookout for?” James asked.

  “The Mirovar force team safe house. I expect that Kain will lead us to it.”

  “That’s fantastic, operational safe houses have been extremely difficult to find.”

  “This opportunity is the best we’ve had in years. That’s why I’m entrusting it to you - I know you will not fail me.”

  “I’m your man, Ma’am,” James attested.

  “Indeed, you are,” Chloe affirmed.

  The phone call disconnected, and James put the phone down. He logged into the Panopticon and began searching for Ramin Kain, the Head of the Order of Thoth.

  * * *

  The morning sunlight streamed through the open windows of the barn. The walls were lined with hay bales, and the floor was composed of packed earth. Whereas the main barn opposite was a real working farm barn, this one was equipped for training a small specialized team of fighters.

  Peter nudged Anton’s arm. “We work with time-honored principles such as, ‘No Pain, No Gain,’ better get used to it.”

 

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