“Yup. Spokesman and salesman,” said Kuga. “We’re setting up a kind of virtual sales floor. Think Zoom but built for the dark web. No possibility of being hacked, even by Bug and the MindReader system.”

“Bug,” said Sunday and looked at his palm, miming the action of turning the pages of a notepad. “Yes … he’s on my list for special attention one of these days.”

“I’d be okay with that,” said Kuga. “He’s a nosy little prick, and we’d all sleep better at night if he were found dead in a ditch.”

Sunday studied him. “Is that something you would like me to handle?”

“No,” said Santoro. “That is mine to do.”

Kuga cleared his throat and looked a bit uncomfortable. “Rafael here’s got a hard-on for everyone who works with Church.”

“An animus shared by many,” said Sunday. “Though there are names higher on the list than Bug.”

“Like Ledger?”

“Yes. I think we’d all like to see him slip over the edge into the shadows.” Sunday uncrossed and recrossed his legs. “I was highly entertained by what happened at the Ledger family farm on Christmas Eve. Highly entertained. However, you killed the supporting cast and missed the marquee star.”

“If my intention had been to kill Ledger,” said Santoro coldly, “he would already be dead.”

“So you say, and I love that confidence. It’s very sexy.”

“It is a fact,” countered Santoro.

“And if you weren’t defensive about it, I’d thoroughly believe you.” Sunday paused and glanced from Santoro to Kuga. “Killing Ledger’s family was fun, don’t get me wrong. Big applause from all of us in the cheap seats. But it was a half measure. You should have left him a trail to follow and then set up some traps. I have some people who would have been happy to do that for you on a contractor basis. Michael Augustus Stafford comes to mind. And that, my friend, would have kept you out of it. You’re on the administrative level now, as I understand it. You shouldn’t be getting your hands dirty delivering novelty Christmas gifts.”

“I wanted to see his face,” said Santoro belligerently. “Or do you lack enough human emotion to understand that?”

“And that is my point, Rafael, old friend. Since when were you ever driven by an emotional need?”

The room went quiet.

“You were always the ice man. The most efficient torturer and extortionist, king of your kind. Subtle and forward thinking. Careful, leaving nothing to chance. And yet you went out there to feed off pain because Ledger handed you your ass.”

“We fought to a draw,” said Santoro.

“And now you’re being defensive as well.”