Pendleton Headquarters – Top Floor
Vega lounged in a leather chair, swirling a glass of steaming water as he gazed through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Behind him, five subordinates stood at rigid attention, ignored for the moment.
"Report," he finally said, voice cool.
Crook stepped forward. "Jack's men sent a convoy to the suburbs. Our scouts confirm they were meeting an airship—only three passengers disembarked." He hesitated. "Per your orders, we kept distance. No audio was captured."
"and?" Vega prompted, rotating his chair to pin Crook with a stare.
"Jack himself didn't greet them. He's holed up in his usual club, guarded like a vault."
Vega's fingers drummed the armrest. "So. What do you think we should do?"
The hulking Borg shoved forward, fists clenched. "Strike first, Young Lord! Crush Jack's nest before those airship rats slither into position!"
"Fool!" Jason, the shaved-headed tactician, snapped. "Those 'rats' are the Council's enforcers. Provoking them means war with the entire Council of Ten elders." His throat bobbed. "We're not ready for that."
The other two murmured agreement—appease, negotiate, retreat.
Kevin stayed silent, knowing Vega's mind was already made.
A raised hand cut the debate short. "Mobilize your teams," Vega said, smiling faintly. "Visit every city councilor's home. Make sure they feel… attended to." He stood, his reflection stretching across the glass like a gathering storm. "As for Jack? I'll handle him personally. After all—" His grin turned razor-edged. "—he's brought me such interesting guests."
"Young Lord!" Jason paled. "The Council will—"
"Dismissed."
The room emptied—save for Kevin, who lingered as ordered.
Whispers in the Shadows
Vega exhaled. "Now. The real intelligence."
Kevin bowed. "The airship party wasn't sent by the full Council. This is Murphy Monroe's play—Fourth Son of the Monroe dynasty. Jack's boss, Shelby, is his lapdog."
"Three operatives," Vega mused. "Nen users?"
A nod. "Rumored to be elite. 'Special abilities,' the spies called them."
Vega scoffed. "Just Nen. Any professional hunter learns it." He noted Kevin's hungry stare and chuckled. "Serve me well, and I might awaken yours."
Kevin dropped to one knee, hand over heart in an oath older than the city itself.
"Save the dramatics." Vega turned back to the skyline. "Murphy thinks he's safe hiding behind the Council's name. But tell me, Kevin—" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Does it matter if the snake's head bites, when I intend to skin the whole beast?"
The glass in his hand cracked.
"Nacro is a cage. The Council's seats will be mine. And the Monroes?" He let the shards fall. "I'll bury their bloodline myself."