Page 31 of Hardline Torque
“By whom?”
“Black Tide.”
The name landed hard.
A man at the far end of the table leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.“That wasn’t in the risk assessment.”
“No,” the analyst agreed, “it wasn’t.But then again, neither was Victor Dane.”
The name changed the temperature in the room.
Victor Dane.
Asset.
Operative.
Problem.
“He was not authorized to re-engage,” another voice said.Calm.Controlled.Dangerous.“He was instructed to remain dormant until retrieval.”
“And instead,” the first man said, “he stole from us.”
“He didn’t act alone,” the analyst added quickly.“We believe Black Tide facilitated the extraction.”
“Belief is not certainty,” the steepled-fingers man said.
A new image appeared on the screen.Grainy.Thermal.A motorcycle, tagged and moving.
“Certainty,” the analyst said, “is improving.”
Silence stretched.
“He knows too much,” one of them said finally.“About routes.About handlers.About the mainland pipelines.”
“And now,” another added, “we believe that he has shared that information.”
No one disagreed.
The man at the head of the table stood.He was older than the others, his movements unhurried, his expression mild in a way that never reached his eyes.
“Victor Dane was not trained to belong anywhere,” he said.“He was trained to be useful.”
He turned his gaze to the screen.“Black Tide has given him something we cannot allow.”
“What’s the order?”someone asked.
The answer came without hesitation.
“Recover the asset.”
A pause.
“If recovery proves ...complicated?”
The man smiled faintly.“Then we neutralize him.”
Another pause.
