There is a time for a whip, and there are men who respond to whips. You are misjudging those you lead.
Sean scowled, barely suppressing his rage. “You have my orders,” he snarled. “And you tell those contractors working on this facility that if they don’t make the next deliverable, I am docking one percent a day off their pay.” He turned and stormed off. “And if they object, shoot them.”
The weight of the Genjix is heavy on you, my son. Perhaps it has been too great.
“Chiyva, my purpose is to serve. I will not tolerate these failures.”
When the P1 project to develop the Penetra scanner was first conceived, Sean had been honored to be the vessel given the task. When the initial theoretical designs were approved, he thought his rise to the head of the Council was all but assured. But the project had been plagued by delays.
To make matters worse, when Devin saw the bill for the Homeland surveillance of Tao, Devin nearly came down to Chicago to shoot Sean himself. Add that to Marc’s complete failure to capture Roen, and it had been a very bad several months.
Control. Always be in control. Remember where I came from.
“Apologies, Holy One.”
Chiyva was right. Chiyva was always right. Sean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, bringing forth the dreams his Holy One had shown him. He thought back to the hundred years Chiyva lived in the dark in captivity. He remembered his own capture with the Vietcong. This delay was nothing.
He opened his eyes and exhaled. The project was still on course, if not slightly delayed. A few months in Quasing time was insignificant. It was better to get the project right. His place on the Council would be assured, regardless of how late the project was, as long as he delivered. He was the blessed one; it was up to him to show the humans he was their better.
Sean turned and walked back to Cuinn. “Let the scientists and engineers have their leave, Mr Cuinn. Give them an extra week. It has been a difficult few months for everyone. The time off will be good for them. Let everyone know that their work is appreciated and to come back refreshed, but remind them that the next delivery date cannot be missed. Understood?”
Cuinn nodded and bowed. “They will appreciate it, Father.”
Sean’s phone rang. He excused himself and answered it.
Marc was on the line. “Father, the surveillance team at Kathy Blair’s house picked up Roen Tan. He stayed for an hour and then left toward O’Hare Airport. Our agents followed him to a Gulfstream heading east.”
Sean’s mind raced. How could he take advantage of this information? “Were you able to get a satellite on it?”
“Even better. One of the surveillance team tagged it. We’re tracking the plane now. It’s currently across the Atlantic heading northeast. It appears he’s headed to England.”
England? What could Roen Tan be doing there? “How far are you behind him?” Sean asked.
“I can be on a jet by tonight. However, we might lose him if his trail is not picked up when he lands.”
Sean formulated a plan in seconds. The opportunity was far too great for them to let it slip through their fingers again. Tao would be away from his safety net. If they could manage to keep tabs on him, an assault team could take him when he least expected it. “Contact the European Council; calculate the trajectory of the plane and have a surveillance team ready at whatever airport they are landing at. When can your team be ready?”
“Tomorrow at the earliest.”
“You will lead the attack personally.”
“As you wish, Father.”
Sean hung up and smiled. Things were starting to look up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: PREPARATION
When the Genjix first struck with the Inquisition, the Prophus were unprepared for their brutal onslaught. It was swift and deadly. Many of our hosts were imprisoned and put to the question and then murdered. Those Prophus survived in rodents for years until they could make their way to other human hosts. The Genjix, who controlled the papacy and Spanish crown, waged a cleansing across all of Europe. It was a dark time. One that would set the stage for the next five hundred years.
“A beverage, sir? Coffee? Wine?”
Roen looked up at the flight attendant and smiled. He could really get used to this sort of luxury. They were in a jet that was just large enough to seat fifteen, yet an attendant was present to serve drinks. “Scotch with a touch of water, please,” he responded. The flight attendant smiled and returned with a glass.
He took a small sip and looked over at the other passengers. Sonya sat next to him, and two other men took the seats across from them. Earlier that afternoon, the small group had met at O’Hare and, without a word, boarded a private Swiss chartered jet specializing in confidential travel.
Roen could hardly contain his excitement. He was playing a major role in the mission, and this flight on a private jet was what he had in mind when he first signed on as an agent. This was a far cry from the boring reconnaissance and security details he had been doing for the past year. Even his compatriots looked like they were personalities out of the movies. He half expected secret compartments to pop out any second with the nuclear launch codes at his disposal.
After drinks were served, Sonya motioned for them to gather around. As the tactical lead, she was second in command to Stephen, a senior officer from Command. The lowest man on the totem pole, Roen found it peculiar that they operated with a cross matrix hierarchy. This was Sonya’s first time in this role, and he could tell she was a little nervous as well.
“Now that we’re in the air and the pleasantries are over,” she said, and then introduced everyone formally.
The highest-ranking Prophus here, Stephen was a dangerous looking man. With a suave, self-assured demeanor that oozed dangerous and cool, he reminded Roen of a sixty year-old Texan James Bond. He wore a sharp black suit, complete with tie, and looked more like a CEO than an agent.
Stephen patted Roen on the shoulder. “You have big shoes to fill, son.”
“So I’ve heard,” he replied dryly.
Dylan, a giant ugly mass of a man with half his face burned, chuckled. “I don’t remember your mother being so serious all the time, Sonya. Now that I think about it, with you and Tao’s new boy here, I suddenly feel like I’m too old for this. Maybe it’s time for a desk job.” The man was dressed in a pair of jeans and a brown bomber jacket. He slouched in his seat with a highball of liquor in his hand, which he had refilled liberally.
“It was time for a desk job the moment you finished your training.” Stephen grinned. “But we must be too old if we’re taking orders from someone we both used to baby-sit. I remember having to spank her once when she tried to lasso her dog.” The two men laughed uproariously.
Sonya blushed, looking chagrined. “Stephen, Dylan, you’re both my uncles and I love you, but I’m leading a team here.” She gave them both a look Roen was very familiar with. She was all business right now.
Dylan held up his hands. “I’m sorry, Sonya. It’s been years since we last saw you, and you’ve grown so much. Dania would be proud.”
“You’re right, though,” Stephen added. “Back to business. You’re in charge of this soirée. What’s the plan?”
Sonya quickly took control of the meeting, speaking in a more formal manner than usual. “The mission is threefold. First, we locate Gregory and bring him to a safe house. We know he’s in a hospital in Dublin, just not which one. Roen should be able to sign him out with the forged next-of-kin documents without any problems. We’ll evaluate the situation from there. An agent, Paula Kim, is assigned to assist Roen with the extraction. Since he’s never been out of the United States, she’ll help deal with the natives.”