"Undisclosed services?" Arthur lifted his gaze to stare at Curtis.
"Yeah. And what if I told you that the second photograph was taken only a couple of seconds later? Take a look and tell me what's missing."
Arthur set the first photograph down and lifted the second. Just as Curtis said, the time and date stamp indicated that only two seconds had passed. His eyes widened in surprise—the boy, the tallest man and the six agents had disappeared. Even if they'd walked away from the scene, they would still be in the photograph somewhere. That wasn't the case.
"Explain this." Arthur flipped the photograph around, then held up the first one.
"I can't. Think hard—you know what happened shortly after the time stated on that photograph—hostages were rescued from the British Embassy, just before it conveniently blew up. I don't know how that was accomplished because frankly, the times don't sync with the official report. I know somebody who might be able to explain it, though. I'd prefer to put the President on the hot seat."
"And I'd prefer to keep the President out of the loop. For obvious reasons."
"Then I'll get the information from one of my informants. He said he might be willing, for the right price."
"Who?"
"One of my informants." Curtis wasn't willing to release any names—Arthur wasn't aware of everyone on his payroll and he wanted to keep it that way.
"Some of your informants could ruin us," Arthur placed both photographs in the folder and slapped it shut. "It's damn difficult to keep attributing those expenses to other—let's say legitimate—sources."
"You think they'd say anything? We can ruin them, remember? I can find them, remember? These relationships are based on mutual trust."
"We're not married to them. I hope you remember that," Arthur muttered dryly.
"But we've gotten good intel from them. All of them think they're the only ones on my payroll, and when it's advantageous, they pass information on their rivals straight to me."
Arthur sighed. Curtis was becoming a liability, in his opinion. The U.S. Intelligence and Foreign Relations Division was supposed to be actively hunting and arresting criminals, not paying them and keeping them in power. During his tenure, Curtis had managed to arrest many lower and a few midlevel criminals, but the bosses—the ones who kept the criminal activities going across the globe—were not only still in power, but growing fatter from secret payments funneled through Curtis' department.
"Nothing like job security," Arthur mumbled.
"What's that?" Curtis asked.
"Good work. Investigate this further with your source and let me know what you find." Arthur dismissed Curtis with a nod.
"Sure." Curtis took the folder and slipped it inside his briefcase. "I'll keep you posted."
* * *
"It's a Friday night and my target manages a restaurant," the voice complained over the phone. "That means she won't be home until after midnight at the earliest. There is another person who is with her most of the time. He may be there as well."
"Then get them both. Make it look good, like you need help or something. Those darts you have will kill quickly, according to my source. Four others will appear to kill the boy when he arrives, and he will arrive. I'll bet money on it."
"What am I supposed to do, then?" The question was almost a wail.
"Get the hell away. Turn and run. I don't give a damn what you do."
"Are we done if I do this?"
"Sure. We're done after you do this," Zeke Tanner laughed and hung up.
* * *
"I'll call when everything is in place," Wildrif assured Friesianna. "Once the original target has been hit by our agent, the boy will arrive. Yours can come then and take him."
"We don't intend to take him. We intend to kill him."
"I know that," Wildrif snapped.
"I remind you that you speak to royalty, Dark Seer."
"Of course, my Bright Queen." Wildrif's voice sounded contrite.
"Do not forget it."
"I will not."
* * *
Ashe sighed as he stared at the tall pyramid in San Francisco. He wanted to see it during the day. At least the fog was light and only obscured the city skyline a little.
"Young one, we cannot sightsee," Gavin pulled Ashe away.
"Yeah. How good are you guys with bullets?"
"Bullets?" Tony's one-word question held worry.
"He's waiting for us. Ellis Kline was supposed to check in. Kieran Ormonde knows he's dead. Thinks the Council is coming for him, now. He's right. He's also ready. Has two humans with him. Thinks machine guns will slow you down enough so he can get away."
"We need your misting ability, then. Is it possible to carry us behind the humans—we can dispatch them easily and then go after Ormonde." Gavin sounded grim.
"I can do that." Ashe nodded. "Ormonde is in the basement of an old store near the wharf. The humans with guns are positioned at the bottom of the stairs. Ormonde is waiting in the back near a high window. If he hears anything, he's gone and we'll have to chase after him. My worry is he'll head for the most crowded place he can find, and at this time of night, that's a bar."
"Not good," Tony muttered.
"We do not need that many witnesses," Gavin agreed. "Compulsion is difficult to place on so many."
"Then let's do this," Ashe said. "I drop you behind Ormonde," Ashe nodded at Gavin. "I'll take Tony to the humans and help him take them."
"In what way are you going to help me?" Tony asked.
"I'll gather them in my mist, one at a time, and then dump them in the same spot. Right now, they're at different positions at the bottom of the stairs, hiding behind brick columns. Hard for you to get both without getting shot. I can bring them together," Ashe explained.
"Yeah. That's feasible," Tony agreed. "Gavin?"
"I agree," Gavin nodded slightly.
"Ready?" Ashe asked.
"Ready," Tony said.
Dropping Gavin behind Kieran Ormonde went without a hitch. Ashe left Gavin only a few feet behind Ormonde and then flew his mist toward the steps leading into Ormonde's basement. That might have gone without a hitch, too; Ashe gathered both gunmen inside his mist, leaving their machine guns behind. He then dumped the gunmen in a corner, where Tony removed both heads quickly.
Neither Ashe nor Tony expected a third gunman, who seemingly appeared from nothing and shot both of them from behind. Ashe cried out as he was hit and Tony, even wounded, moved like the wind to remove a third head before hauling the body and head toward the first two. Dropping both parts amid the others, he spared a pain-filled glance for Ashe.