I force myself back into the present.
And I look right into Dina’s eyes.
“At least you have the courage to ask,” I say to her, the memory lingering on the fringes of my mind, and my heart.
I kiss her hand.
“Will you play the piano for me, baby girl?”
“Of course I will, momma. Of course I will…”
Victor
My Boston headquarters was perfect. It was hidden in plain sight, located in the heart of the city, built with just enough levels and rooms for all of my needs and personnel; not to mention, being a juvenile detention center previously, it was equipped with cells that served more than their fair share of purpose since setting up here.
Perfect.
Yet, not so perfect, after all.
It was, in a sense, a fantasy to believe even for a moment that I could stay in the same place for too long, much less run a growing underground organization of my own here, without imminent threat of The Order moving in and taking me down, and everyone in it.
Empty.
That is the only word to describe my perfect sanctuary now; it has been stripped clean of every stitch of furniture, every painting, every gun and bullet and blood sample and computer. But more notably, the hum of my operatives—spies, assassins, guards—has been silenced, leaving the walls of the building to whisper the things they have been subject to. I can almost hear them, talking to one another.
There is an echo in what was once my office overlooking the city; everything produces an echo now that there is nothing in it to cushion the sound. On this day the echo comes from Gustavsson’s dress shoes moving over the floor behind me as he enters the room. And his voice, as he unnecessarily makes his presence known to me.
“I’m here, Faust.”
I stand at the barred window, my hands crossed down in front of me, and I take in the sight of the city through a filmy glass: the day in its transition to night, the traffic thinning out as the last few minutes of rush-hour fade from the clocks of over six hundred thousand residents, the bustle of Bostonians living out their lives knowing nothing of the unlawful activities, outside of the usual crime, that play out all around them every single day.
“You wanted to see me?”
Still with my back to him, I nod.
After a moment, I turn from the window to face him.
“I would offer you a chair”—breaking apart my hands, I gesture at the empty room—“but as you can see…”
“I’m fine standing.”
I nod again.
“We cannot operate out in the open any longer,” I begin. “Not until we bring The Order down, and we cannot accomplish this until we smoke out the real Vonnegut.” I walk toward him, slowly, my hands folded again in front of me, and then I stop. “It was a mistake to spend even a fraction of my time and resources on any mission that did not directly, or indirectly, involve taking Vonnegut out. That changes as of today—but do not worry; you will continue to work closely with the government in catching your serial killer.”
“I appreciate that,” Gustavsson speaks up, relieved, “but isn’t that doing exactly what you said we were no longer going to do?”
“No,” I answer. “Working closely with them is indirectly moving toward Vonnegut. They want him almost as much I do; they have, as you already know, resources and information that I do not have and very much need. You will continue as you are, but, as always, keep your eyes and ears open; report to me anything, no matter how small, having to do with Vonnegut, The Order, or anyone who is a part of it—directly or indirectly.”
“OK, but what about everybody else?” he asks. “Niklas, Nora, even James Woodard—not to mention, Izabel.” Obviously, he is very interested, and even somewhat anxious, to know anything he can about Izabel. As far as I know, he still has not spoken to her since Artemis. Gustavsson, as much as everyone else, I am sure, would like to know what is to become of her, whether inside, or outside, of my Order.
The only problem is…so would I.
“Kessler will stay partnered with Osiris Stone—the only mission more important to me than Vonnegut, is finding Artemis and Apollo, and there is no one better than Osiris and Hestia to do that. It is an outside job, and they are not members of my Order, but even still, Kessler will be working indirectly on the Vonnegut mission by keeping her eyes and ears open while with them.”