The twelve Fixers—known around the Pavilion as the Righteous—stood in a loose half circle around Eve. Behind where she stood was a trifold set of portable monitors, each seven feet high and capable of 4096 × 2160 pixel density, giving the images incredible clarity. The images being shown were also manipulated by a program that made sure that the central figure on each screen remained exactly the same height—actual height for the star of those video files. At first, watching that was a bit jarring, but the eye and the mind adjusted quickly.

All three monitors featured the same person. A bit over six feet tall, blond-haired, and blue-eyed. Very fit and, as the file display speed was not in any way adjusted, clearly very fast. Whether fighting with a blade, a gun, or his hands, he seemed to blur at times.

One of the Fixers raised a hand.

“Miss Eve,” he said, “is that Mr. Stafford?”

Michael Augustus Stafford had been a lecturer briefly there at the Pavilion a few months back.

Eve blinked in surprise and turned to look at the image.

“Huh,” she said, “you know, I never noticed the similarities before but … damn, you’re right. They could almost be brothers. But Stafford’s better-looking.”

A few of the men chuckled, the rest did not.

“No, campers,” she continued, stabbing a finger toward the center screen, “this is Colonel Joe Ledger. Some of you know him, but mostly by reputation. Or going to funerals of friends of yours he killed.”

That got a few nods and some glares.

“He is the number-one pain in the ass of Kuga and Daddy … I mean, Rafael Santoro. He and his team have been fucking with them since long before they put this new organization together.”

She rattled off what amounted to Joe Ledger’s greatest hits, giving them the official case code names lifted a couple of years ago during a hack of the DMS records. Patient Zero and the Seif al Din pathogen. The Jakobys and the Dragon Factory. The Seven Kings and the Sea of Hope. The Assassin’s Code and the Red Knights.

On and on.

“And then last year, they barged into our Rage operation and nearly spoiled everything.”

One of the Fixers said, “I heard that he messed up Mr. Santoro pretty bad.”

Eve turned toward him very slowly, and the look in her eyes was so venomous that he actually recoiled a step.

“Daddy won that fight,” she snarled.

“Hey, I didn’t mean nothing; I was just—”

“You were just sticking your dick in your own mouth is what you were doing.” But then Eve caught sight of HK across the room, watching the session. It was like a cup of cold water on a burn. Eve took a breath and made herself focus. As Daddy so often said, When emotions rule your thoughts and words and actions, then you are their slave.