The Pharos Objective by David Sakmyster Page A

knees. He looked in astonishment at the spreading stains from two meticulous holes in his left breast.
    Footsteps.
    A woman peeled herself away from the shadows, dark hair, a flash of bright green eyes, dressed all in black.
    And smiling.
    She placed the silenced Beretta into a pack over her shoulder and stood over the Keeper as he slumped to the floor, gasping, choking on his own blood.
    “Too bad, Wilhelm,” she said. “Now I’ll have to do this the hard way.”
    Nina Osseni bent down and rummaged through Wilhelm Miles’s suit coat, found his wallet, then searched his lapels for the microphone. She pulled the receiver from his right ear and placed it in hers, then secured the microphone on her turtleneck, stood up and opened the wallet.
    She cleared her throat and tapped the dime-sized microphone.
    “Hello?” She faced the metal door and took deep, quick breaths. “Hell-oo.”
    The earpiece crackled. “Who is this?” A man’s voice, confused, but somehow still confident.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I don’t believe you’re in a position to ask questions.”
    “I see. You’ll indulge me, then, won’t you?”
    “Perhaps, but be quick.”
    “Am I to assume Mr. Miles is no longer with us?”
    “Yes.”
    “Am I also to assume that you’re standing outside our entrance, since you’ve obviously found and deactivated our hallway cameras?”
    “Two for two. Now, my turn.”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “I have a message from my employer.”
    “We know all about your employer,” said the voice in her ear. “And we know all about you, Nina Osseni.”
    Nina froze.
    “We’ve tracked your employer’s actions for some time. We know what he did to the Renegade, and we’ve been expecting you, actually, for quite some time. What took you?”
    Nina sighed. “Well, well. My employer wants you to stay out of our way. You can do so voluntarily, or we can ensure it. We know your identities, every Keeper. We know—”
    “And that’s supposed to scare us?”
    “Yes, Mr. Gregory, it should. As it should scare your son and daughter. And Jonathan Ackerman and Hideki Gutai and Annabelle Marsh and . . . Shall I continue?”
    “No need,” said Gregory. “You’ve made your point. But you must understand. If you know so much about us, you know our legacy. Our history. We are Keepers, and if we are struck down, others have been prepared to take our place. We have endured for two thousand years, protecting the secret, guarding the treasure.”
    Nina laughed. “Guarding? Is that what you call it? Is that why you’re following the Morpheus Initiative? Or is it that you want the same thing we do?”
    “What we want is only our right. We are the heirs to this legacy, not you.”
    “You’ve had two thousand years to claim that legacy and you’ve failed.” Something shifted behind the door, stealthy footsteps.
    Nina reached for her Beretta.
    “No,” the Keeper said, “we didn’t fail. The Pharos won. There’s a difference.”
    Nina cocked her head. Sure she heard movement beyond the door, perhaps guards readying themselves for an attack, she stepped back into the alley.
    “Time for me to run,” she whispered, hoping that Nolan Gregory hadn’t alerted any other security who might cut off her escape out in the street.
    “Nice of you to drop by,” he said. “I hope we’ll have the pleasure to meet in person soon.”
    “Count on it,” she said, then tossed away the microphone and the earpiece, just as the door clicked and the hinges squealed.
    Her would-be pursuers found the alley empty. Nina Osseni had vanished into the heat and the heart of the city.
     

 
     
     
     
    8
     
     
     
    When he next glanced at his watch, Caleb was pleasantly surprised. One hour to go. Then he looked down at the floor, at the seven scattered pages and the elaborate illustrations his subconscious had been drawing for the past sixty minutes.
    Free-drawing , his mother called it. Kind of like the free-writing other psychics