“I still don’t get it,” Jake said. “What’s the point of pursuing the Hyena? Say we find him and get the Vessel—then what? We can’t use it because we don’t have the ring. We should be going after the ring, not the Vessel.”
“Yes, well, we’ll put you on that team,” the director said. “You can lead the assault up Everest against the sixteen million fiends.”
Jake ignored the sarcasm. “Maybe that’s what we oughtta do. Take it to them!”
“We are still making modifications to the 3XD,” Op Nine said. “As well as other applications for the active agent contained in the ammunition.”
“I’m talking a small team, maybe two or three ops with a couple Sherpas. We draw this, what’s-his-name, Paimon out and one shot to the hand does it.”
Op Nine shook his head. “Perversely, the Hyena’s instincts to seize the Vessel were correct. Obtaining it strengthens our position. At the very least, our possessing it will give them pause.”
“How so?”
“For the same reason they desire it. While it is outside their reach, they can never be assured of their freedom.”
“Maybe not,” Agent Jake shot back. “But they’ll still be free and we’ll still have no way of putting the genie back into the bottle. And you still haven’t answered my question, so I’ll ask it for, what, the third time . . . Let’s assume we get the Vessel—then what?”
I guess nobody had an answer for that, because nobody said anything.
“Gee, this is terrific,” Jake said quietly. “They better watch out, because we’re gonna give ’em pause.”
“Suggest an alternative,” Op Nine said icily. He didn’t like this Agent Jake, you could tell.
“Thought I already did.”
“We pursue the Vessel because it is the only option open to us. Your suggestion is a futile gesture, doomed to failure, and we must not abandon the one thing that separates us from the Fallen.”
“What’s that?” Jake asked.
“Hope.”
Dr. Merryweather clapped his hands suddenly and everybody gave a little jump. “So! We know where they are, we know what they want, and we know what they intend to do if they don’t get it. The Hyena must be found and the Vessel secured, or we may expect all you-know-what to break loose. The question is . . . where is he?”
Nobody said anything. The director looked at Abby. She stood up and Op Nine finally got to sit down. He didn’t look good. He didn’t look much better than Carl up in the morgue, and Carl was dead.
“All computer simulations return these ten locations as the most likely for target acquisition,” she said crisply. “Based on prior associations, duration, and comfort level.” She handed a stack of printouts to the person on her right, who took one and passed on the rest. The agent to my left took the last one, so I didn’t get to see what was on the printout. “We’ll dispatch teams of two to each location—”
“Why only two?” Jake asked.
“The smaller the team, the less likelihood of mission compromise.” “Also the less likelihood of finding the Hyena,” Jake said. “I say we put as many boots on the ground as possible.”
“Every signatory, with the exception of the Swiss, God bless ’em, has pledged full cooperation and logistical support,” Dr. Merryweather said. “The locals will be available, if called upon.”
“Again, Director,” Op Nine said, studying the printout, “I would suggest sending a team to the Hyena’s last known safe house.”
I wasn’t sure, but I guessed Op Nine was talking about the cabin in the mountains.
“Even Arnold isn’t that foolish,” Merryweather said. “Too obvious.”
Op Nine started to say something, but decided against it.
Abby cleared her throat and said, “Make sure your people understand this mission is strictly voluntary. The First Protocol applies: no one with immediate family, mission objective deemed Imperative. The Holy Vessel of Solomon must be obtained. For this reason, the Hyena has been designated as a ‘target’ under the definition contained in Section 189.23 of the Charter.”
“Good,” Agent Jake said. “I hope my team finds him. I’m gonna take great pleasure putting a fat one right between that jerk’s eyes.”