“Of course.” Myers took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, removed one, and lit it. “It appears he wants that project restarted badly enough to endanger a whole city. The game is afoot.”

“Nemesis isn’t a game.”

“He’s using this event as an excuse. Stricken’s under the impression that Nemesis is some surefire, anti-paranormal super solution, and he intends to convince the President that giving him a blank check will keep us safe. Your contract is the only legal thing standing in the way. You’re going back to headquarters for a full debrief. That albino son of a bitch has already filed a report about all your violations.”

“Trying to get me fired?”

“Dismantled.”

Franks grunted in acknowledgment.

“Don’t worry. That’s not likely. Everyone knows you’re too valuable an asset.” Myers exhaled a cloud of smoke as he surveyed the devastation. “But did you really need to choke the Director unconscious?”

Franks shrugged.

“I figured as much . . . Poor Doug. I bet he’s wishing he’d never taken my job now. I warned him it was stressful.” Myers chuckled. “Stricken is crafty enough to know that I’ll be stuck here until this is contained, so I can’t maneuver against him. He’ll strike while the iron is hot and push for Nemesis authorization while everyone is panicking. Sorry, Franks. I have to see to the mission first.”

That went without saying. The mission always came first. The more people who believed in the supernatural, the more they believed in the other worlds, the stronger those worlds’ influences became, the more the lines between them blurred, and that could not be allowed. Humanity never fared well when the lines blurred.

The two of them watched the casino burn in silence for a moment before Myers sighed. “We can’t keep this up forever.”

“No, sir.”

“The MCB has done its best, but the time is coming when the truth will get out. I’m afraid that when that happens, there is going to be somebody like Stricken ready with a cure that’s worse than the disease. . . . Do you trust me, Franks?”

Franks nodded. More than any other human currently alive. Though Franks used the word to keep communications simple, and he’d referred to certain coworkers as friends over the years, he didn’t really understand the human concept of friendship. Logically Myers probably qualified as a friend.

“Then I wish you’d tell me the real reason you’re so dead set against Project Nemesis.”

Franks didn’t respond.

“That’s right. Classified. Even for me . . .” Myers shook his head. “You know, I’ve got to hand it to Stricken. You’re the one thing standing between him and what he wants, using his own system’s rules against him, and as long as those stood, he was stuck. So he put you in a spot where you had to choose between breaking the system and failing a mission.”