The boy knew where the other key was, noted Farley, stepping into the archway of a butcher’s yard. Looks like he inherits the building.

His earpiece crackled as the colonel picked up the phone at his end.

“Hey, dude. How’s it going on the street?”

Farley winced. He hated it when the colonel tried to be casual and chummy: that was not how the army worked. And, at any rate, it was an act. The colonel had no friends.

“It’s fine, sir. On the streets. That situation we talked about is winding down. No need to deploy.”

The colonel chuckled and it sounded like a well-oiled engine purring. “Come on, Farley. Why are you speaking in code? Who’s going to be listening in? That clown Charismo barely managed to put a landline together. Telephonicus Farspeak? What a joke. Spell it out, Major.”

Farley took a breath. “Yessir, Colonel. Force of habit, sir. Never jeopardize the operation. Loose lips sink ships, and all that.”

“Just give me the facts, man. Where’s Garrick?”

“He’s gone, sir. Toast. I got the gist on the bug I planted in the boy’s bandage.”

“Gone?” The colonel sounded disappointed. “I liked him. He was a funny guy.”

Funny was not the word Farley would have chosen, especially when he remembered the assassin looming over him with a bottle of ether.

“The others?”

“The boy is here, in Holborn,” continued Farley. “And Agent Savano has entered the portal at Half Moon Street.”

“So, no damage done?”

“No, sir. We are still running dark. As far as the future is concerned, Charles Smart’s technology died with him, and we are on schedule.”

“What about Charismo? Is he still nicely placed where we can use him?”

Farley ground his teeth, never happy about delivering bad news to the colonel. “Not exactly, sir. The boy set him up for a fall with the duke. They saw the mutations. I imagine he’s getting lobotomized about now. I doubt he will have enough brain cells left to play fetch, Colonel.”

There was silence for a moment, except for the thump-slap of the colonel’s masseuse at work.

“I never liked that guy and his creepy masks anyway,” said the colonel at last. “We can work around him.”

Farley dropped his hand for a moment and sighed. A soldier never knew when the colonel would go off like an automatic weapon, spewing bile instead of bullets.

“What about the boy? Should I remove him from the equation?”

The colonel mulled this over. “No. That’s a plucky kid there. He could be useful, and I don’t want you to get caught with your hands wet.”

“Riley is a loose end, sir. And he could cause trouble.”

“We know where he is, correct?”

“Yessir.”

“And we can neutralize this Riley anytime we want, right?”

“Yes, we can. Easy as pie.”