Flua has spent hundreds of years building his power base here, and Vinnick has his hands in nearly every aspect of the current government. It is your responsibility to break their bond and take his place.
The next few hours would be delicate, but really only a formality. Unless Vinnick offered total capitulation, there was nothing to negotiate. The government had so far shown a surprising loyalty to the hundred-and-four year-old Genjix Councilman, but his influence and power, as his recent health, had finally waned.
It was Enzo who had chosen this location inside the historical church. It was he who had determined the date and time. These were his agents who secured the area around it. In other words, this was Enzo’s party, his coronation, and Vinnick was here to deliver the crown. In many ways, he compared today’s event to the Second Armistice at Compiègne.
It had taken over a decade before Enzo could establish this foothold within Vinnick’s domain, but with the Russian president’s invitation to hold talks, he could finally achieve dominance over his hated rival. The Russians had long proven to have more loyalty to ethnicity and money than they had to power. In both those matters, Enzo was at a distinct disadvantage and did not have the same resources as the Russian billionaire.
“Perhaps we could replace the president with someone more friendly to us.”
Replacing the president by force will be messy, most likely escalating the situation toward a civil war and only reinforcing already negative world perceptions.
The Council Power Struggle had taken longer than anticipated. Much longer in fact, to the point that it had not only weakened the Genjix, but had hindered the Holy Ones’s divine plans for Quasiform. Enzo placed that responsibility squarely on Vinnick. After all, it was clear by the fourth year of their struggle that the old man would lose. However, the stubborn fool dragged on their fight, only conceding ground when he had to.
Even now, with Enzo on the verge of victory, Vinnick had fought him tooth and nail, causing delays to the Genjix’s most important programs. That delay was a sin Enzo could not forgive. What was he trying to prove? If he had only done the right thing, Enzo might have been merciful and let him live out the rest of his life peacefully.
A lesson had to be taught, and not just to Vinnick, but to anyone else who dared oppose Enzo. If he allowed his opposition pardons for their crimes, then he was simply inviting others to challenge his rule. No, even at his age, Vinnick must be shown swift and harsh punishment. Those who did not bend to Enzo’s will now, would only challenge it in the future.
Enzo nodded at several of his agents who had cordoned off the area. As far as most Genjix were concerned, he was the most important human alive. That was another thing he had learned from Vinnick. While all the Holy Ones were divine, not all their vessels were. Some were closer to divinity than others. In this case, Enzo’s brothers from the Hatchery were the true vessels that the Holy Ones deserved. Those found outside were nothing more than shells, empty, unworthy containers that were meant to be used and discarded. In the end, most from outside the Hatchery were unworthy.
Enzo stopped just inside the church entrance and studied the long tunnel of arches that spanned the length of the building. Zoras was right to have cautioned that there were many places here for assassins to hide. However, Enzo wouldn’t let such cowardly tactics dissuade him. He had already survived a dozen assassination attempts over the years, and his inner cadre was on alert.
He walked down the long corridor, his steps on the marble floors echoing. They were soon followed by two more pairs of footsteps. Austin and Matthew, brothers from the Hatchery who had been raised to full vessels.
Enzo loosened the straps on his holster. “Is he here?”
“Yes, Father,” Austin said. “With only two Epsilons.”
“And our strength?”
“Twenty inside the church. Forty on the perimeter.”
“We could end it here,” Austin added. “Be done with this charade and focus on more important matters.”
Breaking your word to your enemies is sound strategy, but not so when it is to your own people.
“Of course, my Guardian.”
Enzo shook his head. “Too much collateral risk with the rest of the Genjix. We can ill-afford the heat. Our credibility within the Council is already precarious. We will maintain the honor. Leave it to Vinnick to do otherwise. What about the perimeter?”
“Akelatis has eyes on two of Vinnick’s extraction teams,” said Matthew.
Enzo nodded. “Guess it’s a standoff then. First side to shoot takes the blame. Make sure it’s not us. And if they do shoot first, make sure we get the last shot.”
They proceeded to the end of the hallway and walked up a set of stairs to an atrium. After several more turns down narrow passages, they entered a large circular room, empty except for a table and a chair placed in the center. There were two exits, one at the far end and one to Enzo’s right. There were tall windows on his left. As instructed, the curtains were pulled closed to prevent the possibility of snipers.
The old man was seated in his wheelchair at the small round table in the center of the room, drinking delicately from a white teacup. Two large armored men stood guard at both sides of the door at the far end. Enzo recognized their suits and the bayonets attached to their holstered pistols.
Matthew leaned into him. “Confirmed Panell and Corisa. Non-blessed.”
Enzo studied the face of the man who for over ten years now had prevented him from fulfilling his destiny of assuming the full mantle of Genjix leadership. This was the first time the two of them had ever met face-to-face in all those years. In the past, they had always sparred either across a video screen or through intermediaries. It felt momentous, if a bit anti-climactic.
After all, his sworn enemy looked positively awful. At a hundred-and-four, Vinnick was barely more than a bag of bones and blood, held together by tight, cracked and blotched skin, reinforced by thick wraps that covered most of his body. Half his head was bandaged, except for the white tufts of hair on top of his head. Enzo wondered what had happened to him. Was he sick? Was it safe for Enzo to be around him? Why had he even tried to stand against Enzo? The old man was on his deathbed!
The old man sipped tea as Austin and Matthew took their positions at the door. Enzo made sure to look carefree and charming as he sauntered toward the table. “Hello, brother.”
Vinnick snorted in a way only old men could without seeming foolish. “Boy.”
His voice sounded different than over the screen. It was weak, high-pitched, and tired. It had also been months since they’d last spoken. Months for a hundred year-old man might as well have been a decade.
Enzo reached out and picked up the teapot. He first filled Vinnick’s cup and then his own. “Sugar, brother?” The old man met his gaze with a contemptuous glare. Enzo shrugged and added two spoonfuls. Old men liked sweets, didn’t they? And if it wasn’t good for him, maybe it would kill him quicker.
Touch him.
“Zoras?”
Identify him.
Enzo studied the face again. It was possible. With those bandages and his wrinkled visage, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for this to be an impostor. He reached out for Vinnick’s arm.
The old man snatched his hand back. “Don’t touch me, boy!”
“I insist,” Enzo snapped, reaching forward and gripping the old man’s frail wrists.
Impostor. A non-vessel! Get out of the room now.
Enzo lashed laterally with his opened palm and smashed the old man’s throat with his bare hands. To his right, several men burst through what must have been false panels and opened fire. Enzo felt a sharp pain in his arm as he dove to the ground. Before his assailants could get another shot off, four of them dropped. Matthew and Austin charged forward, pistols out and shooting. The table exploded into splinters as automatic fire shredded it. Enzo felt another bullet pierce his left shoulder as he rolled to his feet, pistol in his right hand and knife in his left.