Thanks, Barb!
21
In a small, cluttered office, deep within the beltway powerhouse that was the US Senate, a certain freshman politician sat at his desk, watching the news. His thin, ascetic face was very still. Except for a flickering wall screen, jerky clock hands, and the colored fish drifting aimlessly around a small tank, nothing moved. An outside observer would have been hard-pressed to say whether the news-woman's report pleased him, or not.
In private, he wasted no energy on emotion. In public, he put on personas and moods to suit the situation; win the votes, clamber his way to real power... for a cause. Purity. Cleansing. Renewal. A return to what had been, and must be, again. A return to freedom. But not this day.
It seemed that the plan... his grandest yet... had failed. Agents had been captured, entire cells exposed, thanks to an adversary out of reach and damnably cunning. Though, not quite clever enough to locate the true source of WorldGov's troubles.
No, the plan itself might fail, but the organization went on, its leader unrecognized. He toyed with a sharpened yellow pencil, and thought. The captured agents were no doubt being interrogated, but they knew only the cells nearest to them, and he'd already had the agents in those assassinated, to the last man. The 'difficulty' would spread no further, leaving him well able to plan again, for a better day. Yet...
His enemies mustn't be permitted to think that they'd won. WorldGov had already been dealt a terrible blow. They'd be months digging out of the UC mess, and would not soon forget the Red Path. International Rescue, on the other hand, had gotten off far too lightly.
Coming to a sudden decision, he pressed a certain button on the underside of his top left drawer. A small holographic screen popped into existence, about six inches over the glassy desk top. His narrow lips pursed thinner still.
Ordinarily, he avoided unnecessary technology, cursed it, in fact. Sometimes the contagion of science had to be tolerated, though, just as the scientists and engineers who understood such things must be enslaved and used, rather than killed outright... until there was no more need for their ilk.
"Sir?"
A woman's face appeared on the slim, transparently hovering surface. Golden-eyed as a lioness, with jet-black hair and the cold, deadly beauty of a serpent, she was his newest European agent.
Her previous employer had perished less than a month before, killed in a firefight with Interpol. The WorldGov enforcers had been tipped off tothe unfortunate fugitive'swhereabouts, and given a detailed battle map of his bunkered headquarters. The end had been swift, and bloody. No matter. Talent like hers didn't go begging for long.
"Tania," he said, employing a warm, gentlemanly aspect. "International Rescue agents will be arriving in Spain, very soon. They'll try to help out with digging and recovery to prove that they didn't bring down the UC."
She nodded, a sudden, molten-hot spark flaring in those tawny eyes, while a thin, paper-cut of a smile touched her red mouth.
"Yes, Sir. We've met. You want them killed, Sir?"
That Tania was up to the task, he had no doubt. She was clever, strong, and completely amoral, giving her a distinct advantage over the poor idiots who still cherished civilized ideals.
"No, Tania. Not this time. For now, all I want you to do is deliver a message. You can pick your own target. Have all the fun you want, just be sure that what's left when you're through can still pass along my... congratulations. Understood?"
Her smile broadening faintly, Tania replied,
"Understood, Sir. It will be my pleasure."