Nero sighed. Masterson had not been helpful in this matter. “We could use Ms. Neeley’s talents.”
“I’m sure you could.”
“No, we could,” Nero pressed. “Since you retired Mister Racine, there is a need—“
Masterson’s voice was harsh. “Do not tell me you expect Neeley to do what Racine did.”
“No. I believe the days of Racine’s specialty are past as it seems the days of my own. Even before we lost Racine, the true loss was that of Tony Gant. His brother Jack has picked up some of the slack. As you are the wave of the future, so is Ms. Neeley.”
“She’s not so sure of that,” Masterson said.
“You are going to need a field agent you can trust,” Nero said. “Particularly in the matter of Sanctions or else it might weigh heavily on you. Also, since Ms. Neeley is in West Virginia, she is obviously interested in Gant’s legacy. His brother is certainly part of that.”
“I have some questions about that,” Masterson said.
“I’m sure you do,” Nero said, glad to have finally drawn her interest.
“Tony and Jack were twins, right?”
“Correct.”
“And they had a falling out over Jesse?”
“You could call it that. We were never really able to get to the truth of that matter as the three principals involved — Jack, Tony and Jesse, never discussed it. Jesse had taken Tony’s son, Bobbie, and left Berlin years before. As a matter of fact, just before Tony had his most fortuitous meeting with Neeley. Beyond that, I know little. Perhaps you could find out more.”
“Perhaps I don’t want to. Jesse and Bobbie are out of the game.”
“You think it’s a game?” Nero asked.
“It’s a figure of—“ Masterson was interrupted as the intercom beeped lightly and Mrs. Smith’s voice echoed out of the speaker. “They’re here.”
“Send them in,” Nero ordered.
Mrs. Smith sported a thick gray bun resembling hair, reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose, and wore a formless sweater covering the bulk of her body. She was not a Ms. Moneypenny in any regards. She was efficient and she could keep secrets. She nodded to the three people who had just walked in. “Mister Nero will see you now.”
Mrs. Smith pressed a positive access button as Bailey punched his entry code on the keypad next to the door. The door automatically swung open and Bailey, Gant and Golden entered the hallway beyond. The door swung shut as the floor sensors picked up the intrusion.
A computer’s voice came forth from speakers in the ceiling. "Identify please. Name, number and code. You have ten seconds."
Bailey identified himself and gave his number and code, stopping the portals in the walls from filling the room with incapacitating gas.
A drawer slid open from the wall. "Deposit all weapons please."
Bailey deposited a large caliber pistol that had been resting in a shoulder holster, what Gant considered an old man’s gun, in the drawer. Gant put the Glock, knife and belt into the tray while the other two waited.
Gant glanced at Golden. “No weapons, Doctor?”
Golden pointed toward her head. “Mine’s here.” She nodded toward the weapons. “Expecting trouble?”
“Always,” Gant replied. “Better to expect it than be surprised by it.”
“Is that a rule?” she asked.
“As a matter of fact it is,” Gant said.
“You live by rules?”
Gant could see Bailey watching them, as amused as Nero’s right hand man could be. “I survive by a few of them. I break others when needed.”
A red light flashed and a magnetic sensor swept over the three of them. The light turned green then went red again.
Golden gave a startled sound as a strong puff of wind came out of grates below their feet. Chemical, biological and explosives sensors in the ceiling sniffed the air. The light turned green for the second time.
"Proceed, please."
The far door slid apart and they entered Nero's office. Three lights were now on above the desk oriented toward the three chairs lined up in front of his desk. Gant paused for a second, taking in the woman seated behind the desk. He’d never seen her before. He’d never seen anyone in here before other than Nero and occasionally Bailey standing in the shadows. The old man was lying on a couch to the side, looking very ill. Gant knew that Nero’s condition had been deteriorating but he had not expected such a radical change behind the desk. He had always assumed that when the time came it would be Bailey who took the old man’s place.
The woman was small, that was his first impression. She had thick blond hair that cascaded to her shoulders in a way that didn’t seem contrived to Gant. Her eyes, what he could see of them, were dark and steady as they gazed back at him. She was young, too young in Gant’s opinion, to be sitting behind Nero’s desk although there were deep lines etched around her eyes, not too much different from the spider webs around Golden’s eyes. Women who’d seen too much, Gant thought. Welcome to the real world.
“Mister Gant,” Nero said, “I am sorry about your brother.”
Gant believed the old man not in the slightest so he didn’t acknowledge the words although he sensed both women in the room looking at him curiously, particularly the woman behind the desk.
“Is this a Sanction?” Gant asked.
“Always to the point, Mister Gant,” Nero said. “We don’t know yet, but we fear it might be.” The blind man adjusted his head slightly, facing Doctor Golden. “Ordinarily Mister Gant would be operating solo, but I — we—“ he indicated the woman at the desk—“think it’s time to adjust the ways of the Cellar. So you, Doctor Golden, have been brought in to add your expertise to the problem.”
“And who exactly is we?” Gant asked.
Nero raised his free hand and pointed at the woman who was in his place. “Meet Ms. Masterson. My protégé, so to speak. I’ve brought her in to add some perspective to my thinking and decision-making. Eventually, Mister Gant, she will be completely in charge of the Cellar.”
That brought silence to the room as the implications sunk in.
“I think someone needs to explain to me exactly what is going on and what is expected of me,” Golden said, her voice tight and clipped. She sat in the chair ramrod straight, her face even tighter if that were possible.
Nero rested the hand holding the voice wand on his chest. “There are those who operate beyond the bounds of what most in this country consider the law. Those whose skills and attributes are also beyond the capabilities of normal law enforcement agencies to cope with. When these people conduct a transgression, a Sanction is initiated by this office. At this moment we are gathering data to see if recent events indicate the need for a Sanction.”
“And a Sanction is?” Golden pressed.
“Potential transgressors are identified by this office,” Nero said. “Then a field operative such as Mister Gant is sent out. His is the final determining authority based on what he discovers, on whether the Sanction is valid and whether to implement it.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Golden said.
Gant spoke up, tired of it all. “A Sanction is implemented when I kill the guilty party. After, of course, I validate their guilt.”
“And how exactly do you do that?”
“Once I find them, it’s usually not difficult,” Gant said.
Golden considered that for a few seconds before speaking again. “And my role?”
“Good question,” Gant threw in.
Nero spoke up. “Because of your background and expertise, I’ve brought you in to complement Mister Gant. The times are changing and it is time for the Cellar to change with them.”
“What background and expertise?” Gant asked.