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THEO STRITCH

McLean, Virginia

T he gentle click-click of the Zippo lighter opening and closing drew Theo’s attention to the man seated across the desk.

He went by the codename The Priest, and he always delivered.

That was all Theo knew about the man and all he needed to know.

No. It was all he wanted to know because the assassin exuded such a dark energy that even his employer was afraid.

Click-click.

Click-click.

Theo felt like Captain Hook being hunted by the crocodile.

Wanting to wrap up the meeting quickly, he got straight to the point. “Anything to report with Stella?”

The clicking stopped. “The video Capelli took is gone, as are the two people who have seen it.”

Theo smirked. He had taken care of Abernathy himself. It was less suspicious, and he had to admit, it felt good to get his hands dirty on occasion.

The Priest continued, “Milton Abernathy did not forward the clip, but he mentioned it in a voicemail to Stella Keen, and she’s suspicious. She visited Abernathy’s house after he was killed.” The Priest speared Stritch with a narrow stare. “I assume there was nothing to find.”

Theo ignored the insult. He may not kill with the expertise of the man opposite him, but he knew how to handle business. “I figured she might. You let me worry about Stella. What about Jameson?”

“Abernathy invited Leo ‘Renaissance Man’ Jameson to visit via text message. Appears to be a social call. Abernathy mentioned his dog named Pluto in the text.”

“Pluto? Like the Disney dog? Rather unoriginal.”

The Priest checked his watch.

Theo gestured for him to continue.

“Jameson showed up after a neighbor discovered the body and emergency services had arrived. Again, nothing to find. I accessed the police report to confirm. The storm that night did you a favor; everyone stayed inside. No one reported seeing Milton Abernathy or anyone else in the neighborhood. The ring cameras I checked don’t show anything past the front porches. ”

Theo leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. His frustration dissipated as he remembered his mantra: setbacks are opportunities.

Click-click.

Click-click.

“Continue surveilling Stella.” Theo would address the incriminating printer issue, and the video of the exchange at Bergdorf’s was gone. “It’ll take some time for me to set things up, but the players have positioned themselves perfectly.”

“To do what?” The Priest asked.

Theo glanced at the paused video of Ren Jameson. He tapped the screen.

“Ren Jameson will discover that Stella is the spy stealing and selling research. Maybe she confessed during pillow talk, or maybe they were partners–I’m still ironing out the details. You will take Jameson out, and Stella will be blamed.”

The only indication of displeasure was a flick of the lighter. The Priest liked getting credit for his kills.

Hyperion wanted iron-clad proof implicating Stella, and Theo would deliver it. His plan worked perfectly with the timing because Theo didn’t want to take any action until he’d delivered the final schematics for the drone and been duly compensated for his effort. “Then you will bring Stella to me.”

The Priest stood.

Theo continued, “After I’ve spoken with Stella and ensured she has no other pertinent information, she’s all yours.” With a dismissive wave, he added, “I’ll blame Stella’s death on her criminal associates, and order will be restored.”

Click-click.

“I’ll need them in close proximity to make this work. Jameson is already suspicious. I will text you instructions on how to add a bit more fuel to the fire.”

The sounds of the Zippo faded as The Priest disappeared down the hall.