Westchester County, Shadow Dealers Compound Two days later
Malcolm Whitmore strode into the control room of the Shadow Dealers' state-of-the-art secret facility. He reviewed the status of all North American operations. His investment in project Mindjevity was starting to pay off. Jane Takahashi tried to shut him down.
No one screws with the Shadow Dealers and gets away with it.
The control center was a flurry of activity. Camera feeds, dossiers, and maps showing assets worldwide appeared. His phone chirped as he strode to his office, which provided a bird' s-eye view of the center. A text message from the nightly switchboard operator read: Agent Moran has not checked in.
I don't know why I bothered to get the man out of jail if he can't keep an on one little girl.
Malcolm picked up his desk phone, an old-fashioned rotary phone, and dialed zero for the operator.
"Operator Niles," a man's voice answered.
"Niles, I need the fate of an agent confirmed."
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"Which operation?"
"Mindjevity," Malcolm confirmed.
"Got it. I will confirm before reliving my shift."
"See that you do."
He glanced around his spacious office as he considered what may have befallen his agent. His desk was fashioned from cherry wood and accented with mahogany. He unlocked and opened his special drawer and removed a paper file labeled Takahashi. Pictures of an Asian couple and an adolescent girl came into view.
Why are you so damned important?
Malcolm traced the picture of the girl with a finger. It pained him to eliminate the family, but he didn't have it in his heart to harm the child, and he feared that would be his undoing.
The ring of his ancient phone broke his concentration. He often wondered why he had such an aging piece of technology. Still, some things could not be trusted—especially not with all the hackers in his employ.
"What do you have for me?" Malcolm said.
"Agent Jack Moran expired at approximately 10:32 p.m. last night. According to the Westchester PD report, he suffered a fatal gunshot wound to the head. While his appearance was unrecognizable, his identity was confirmed by DNA. His microchip confirmed the location to be the Henderson house."
"Anything else?"
"That's all there is to report."
Malcolm hung up the phone.
It's a good thing he forced that DNA sample, but I have a feeling that's what got him killed. I wonder if Aiko pulled the trigger.
With all of the man's proclivities, he didn't doubt that one bit.
It's time to speed up the development of Mindjevity, after all.
Malcolm picked up the phone again.