2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light) by Robert Storey

six foot seven and powerfully built, he was a couple of inches taller than Joiner and carried himself with an assured ease. His chiselled features were unnaturally pallid and his long black hair had been pulled back into a neat plait which draped down over one shoulder. Bright eyes and a relaxed expression showed no hint of concern at the threat from Agent Myers; in fact the glimmer of a mocking smile tugged at his lips as he moved his attention from Joiner to the CIA operative.
    ‘My name is Ophion Nexus,’ he said, his voice tombstone deep. ‘I believe you are expecting my team?’ He looked back to Joiner.
    ‘Sir?’ Myers said, keeping his eyes on the man before him.
    ‘Leave us, Agent.’ Joiner motioned for Ophion to approach.
    Myers remained on guard and held the man’s gaze as he walked past before taking his leave, a look of uncertainty on his face.
    Once the two men were alone, Joiner rose and held out a hand, which Ophion shook. The intelligence director’s eyes flicked down to an emblem etched onto the man’s chest-plate.
     

     
    ‘The Committee has briefed you?’ Joiner said.
    ‘They have.’
    ‘I’m to oversee your mission.’
    Ophion Nexus shifted his stance. ‘That won’t be necessary.’
    ‘Your autonomy is legend, but here – now – you will operate solely under my orders. Do we understand each other?’
    Ophion’s face hardened.
    ‘Well?’ Joiner said.
    ‘I’ll report back to you, as the Committee requested.’
    ‘And you will action my orders,’ Joiner said, ‘also as the Committee requests.’
    Ophion gave a barely perceptible movement of his head, his reluctance causing Joiner concern. What has this man been told? he wondered. Selene, the Committee member, had indicated Joiner would be in charge; S.I.L.V.E.R.’s leader, Ophion, seemed to think otherwise. Is he just unused to taking orders or has the Committee undermined my position? Either way it didn’t fill Joiner with confidence; if his success rested on another’s actions, someone over whom he had no control, his destiny, and perhaps his very life, was out of his hands. It was a status quo he could not allow to stand. Measures would have to be taken – fast.
    ‘The thief and her two companions have a week’s head start,’ Ophion said in his rumbling baritone. ‘The repairs need finalising; each hour, each minute, reduces our chance of success.’
    Joiner sat back down in his chair. ‘I’m well aware of the state of play. Matters are in hand.’
    ‘If they were in hand there would not be a problem. If I was in command there would not be a problem.’
    Joiner gritted his teeth. ‘Is that so?’
    Ophion held his gaze. ‘It is.’
    The two men remained thus for some moments in an unspoken battle of wills before Ophion relented under Joiner’s determination to continue the frosty silence ad infinitum. I can’t afford to cede the upper hand, he thought, not now; my position of power is already tenuous .
    Ophion turned to leave.
    ‘Wait!’ Joiner said, his voice ringing with authority.
    S.I.L.V.E.R.’s leader stopped and looked back, his expression dark.
    ‘I haven’t given you your orders …’
    Ophion was obliged to wait as Joiner paused. He wanted the man’s full attention to ram home his position of power. ‘Once I’ve spoken to the facilitators of this fiasco,’ Joiner continued, ‘you can liaise with them to form the search teams. When you’re out in the field, messengers and tethered relays will be utilised to coordinate under my direction.’
    Ophion didn’t respond, his hooded eyes bleak.
    ‘Are we clear,’ Joiner said, ‘or do I need to draw you a diagram?’
    The muscles around Ophion’s hawklike eyes tightened. In the blink of an eye and a blur of motion, a narrow blade slammed into the desk, mere fractions of an inch from Joiner’s hand, making him jerk back in alarm.
    ‘You forget to whom you speak, Intelligence Director,’ Ophion said, his tone ice cool. ‘You’d do well not to