9:09 A.M. . . .

Somewhere in Noir . . .

In the Council’s Sanctum . . .

The Three monitored the Pandora Project’s bio-data on the center monitor above their table. Shadows covered their eyes, leaving their identities in the darkness. Analysts and supervisors worked around them in the computer-blue glow of the room.

“The Project has entered Topa’s Estate,” Ms. Nona stated with concern and bit her cherry-red lower lip. “Should we stop Pandora? Topa is not part of this experiment.”

“No. We will use him as we have used others who stumbled upon our tests.” Mr. Morta folded his large dark brown hands. “This situation could be the catalyst we have been waiting for to take the Project to the Gamma Phase of its metamorphosis.”

“Pandora has been a disappointment this past year.” Mr. Decuma straightened his bright orange tie. “Sure, the Project’s skills are incredible, but . . .”

“Yes, but Pandora holds back. It has not taken a life.” Mr. Morta leaned forward on his elbows, resting his chin on his hands. “Why, is what we have to discover.”

“The conditioning has failed,” Ms. Nona answered. “We should be working on the Fifth Evolvement by now, not worrying about the third.”

“No, I think it is more than that. Remember, even before we took custody of the Project, Pandora was an enigma. There is nothing wrong with the conditioning. I believe it is the Project’s emotions.”

“The Project’s emotions?” Mr. Decuma didn’t understand the eldest member’s reasoning and wondered, “Why does Mr. Morta hold such high expectations for this experiment? Has he grown attached? This could be a problem. One I must monitor. If Mr. Morta is not careful, he will lose his indifference and start calling it, she.”

“Yes, Mr. Decuma. Emotions. Rage . . . Love . . . Both are driving forces,” Mr. Morta explained as he twisted the gold ring on his dark brown finger. “As any human would know. The Project has not tapped into them. Pandora is holding back, shielding itself.”

“That is until Preacher,” Ms. Nona added.

Mr. Morta nodded. “Precisely, if we had known how his death affected Pandora, we would have killed him long ago.”

A female supervisor handed Ms. Nona a report on a H.H.C. “This is not good.”

“What is it?” Mr. Decuma asked as he rubbed the silver tie pin of the word Fate.

“It seems one of the Corporations does not like what Topa has been doing lately. A Life Closer has been sent to the Estate.”

“By our Corporation?” Mr. Decuma asked.

“I think not,” Mr. Morta answered. “But with an organization as vast as ours, who knows for sure.”

* * *

At the northwest corner of Topa’s estate, a lone figure threw a small J-shaped grappling hook over the wall. This part of the estate had little light, so the figure easily hid in the darkness of the late morning. Charcoal-gray Dry Clouds rumbled overhead, warning of a possible Tainted Rain storm. A cool breeze, filled with the odor of petroleum, blew across the imported trees and grass. Kim (the Phoenix) pulled her knit mask over her face, made sure it was securely in place, and checked over her black outfit. She wore thin gloves, jogging pants, running shoes, a tank top, and a zip up hooded sweatshirt. Kim had no need for a Winnow Mask. A native of the Dark Half of the planet, her lungs were used to the pollutants.

“Must keep one’s identity a secret. Wouldn’t want to kill anyone not part of the Closing and have to file extra paperwork. Voice hates unnecessary reports as much as me, and I wouldn’t want to make Voice mad.” She thought about Moscow. “Not again.” She frowned. “At least I think Voice is mad over it.”

Kim climbed the cord to the top of the wall, then down the other side, and glanced at her watch once she reached the ground. She would have this Closing done within the hour, if all went well. “Topa will make the front cover again,” she thought. “But with the headline Found Dead.” She tossed the thin climbing cord, grappling hook, and black knapsack in the corner and threw a pile of leaves on the items to hide them. Kim checked the Military Defender (a tactical knife) in a sheathe strapped to her right calf. She quietly slipped by the guards, making her way to his office. In the e-mail Voice sent her, the client stated Topa would most likely be there.

The office stood at the end of a long cobblestone path leading from the house and lit by black cast-iron sunlamps. Small pine trees grew along the path, and hedges lined the last twenty feet of the walkway and around the office. Kim hid in the bushes underneath a window just left of Topa. She glanced in, seeing her target busy with a calculator at his mahogany desk.

“Only one guard inside. Should be easy enough.” Kim placed a silencer on the PPK (a small gun) and stood to make her way in, but the front door opened. She ducked back into the hedge, and the blue-green bushes rustled with her movement. Through the window, she watched as a second henchman walked into the room. He removed his WM-B and adjusted the filter’s strap.

Topa sat at his desk, counting bundles of money. He placed the stacks in a suitcase. His henchman stood off in the corner.

“This is payment for the Illicit Closer we hired to take out that nuisance on Wayfaring Lane.” Topa finished counting. “That cassock won’t be hindering our sales of Sunna Snaps.”

“Why the cash?” the second henchman asked. “Why not credits?”

“This cash can’t be traced to me. Credits could be.”

The second henchman nodded. “I see.”

“Illicit Closer?” Kim thought. “I can’t believe he hired an illegal assassin, one that doesn’t belong to the Assassins Guild. If Voice or Thanatos finds out . . .” She shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Topa’s Closing is today. What more can they do to him?”

Back inside the office, Topa closed the suitcase and handed it to the second henchman. “Also, tell our contacts at the Valhalla Corporation, we’ll be doubling our next order, now that business will be getting back to normal.”

“Understood.” The henchman put his Winnow Mask back on, took the suitcase, and left.

Topa turned to the first henchman. “Ready my car. We’re going into the Hellenistic Sector of Noir.”

The henchman nodded and left by the back door.

Kim glanced in the window. “Henchman’s gone. This will be easier than I thought.” Again she started to leave her hiding place, but the front door opened. She ducked into the bushes and sighed. “Hades! What’s up with my luck today?”

Kat entered, holding the black Beretta at her side, and found Topa alone. His office smelled of polished wood and had an old feel to it. Black and white photos of distinguished men, who looked related to him, lined the walls.

“Who’s this?” Kim wondered, peeking through the window. “A second Closer?” She frowned, a little irritated, and ducked back down. “Voice has never sent in backup before. I’ve never needed one.” Kim thought about her statement. “Never needed one before Moscow.” She eyed the short brown haired woman. “No. The woman doesn’t have the look of a Closer. Then who is she?”

Topa looked up as the door opened. “Who are you? How did you get in here?” He pressed a button under his desk, triggering a silent alarm.

Filled with hatred and anguish, Kat raised the gun. “You killed Preacher. Now, I’ll kill you.” She aimed for his forehead. “You must pay for what you did to him!”

* * *

Within the Sanctum . . .

The Council monitored the Project’s bio-data on the center monitor. The screen showed no change.

“Argus is on the Estate and has found the Project in Topa’s office,” Ms. Nona reported. “Pandora is about to kill Topa.”

“Good . . . Good . . . The Gamma Phase will finally be achieved. The Project will take a life, spill human blood.” Mr. Morta smiled. “Where is the Closer?”

“Holding outside of the office,” Mr. Decuma answered. “The Closer will not move with the unknown woman in the room.”

“Finally . . .” Mr. Morta’s smile broadened. “I have had such high hopes for this particular project. For one long year, we have waited to achieve this pinnacle.” With elated breath he added, “Now we will witness Pandora’s transformation as the Project completes the Gamma Phase. The Turning Point Phase.”