Target Omega

CHAPTER FOUR

The assassin was back in the United States.

The tall, lean figure with a patrician bearing, smoking a cigarette on the second-floor balcony of the large beach house overlooking the Atlantic, knew this because of the ringtone on his cell phone. The tone was reserved for one person alone.

Oddly, the patrician felt more at ease knowing the assassin was in the country. The man seemed to discharge assigned tasks with almost supernatural efficiency, and that gave the patrician a sense of comfort, security.

Despite the fact that the phone was encrypted and the house was clean, the patrician spoke sterilely.

“Yes.”

“There was an issue.”

“What kind of issue?”

“A matter of identification.”

“Are you certain?”

“No. But there is, at the very least, a possibility.”

“Then eliminate the possibility.” The patrician paused. “All of the possibilities. Use our surrogates when feasible.”

“That will be a challenge,” the assassin replied. “The possibilities are… formidable.”

“Quite right. But time is of the essence and all of the possibilities must be resolved quickly. That can only be done with a sufficient number of surrogates.”

The connection was silent for a moment. The patrician understood that the assassin preferred to resolve the possibilities by himself; he wouldn’t entrust it to surrogates, although he’d allow them to provide any necessary logistical support.

The assassin said, “It will be done,” and severed the connection.

The patrician casually returned the phone to his pocket and flicked the cigarette butt onto the beach below. Calm for a man who had just unleashed hell.