Lee stood alone in front of the display, watching markers move across Seoul like pieces on a board.
His communicator buzzed, a private channel. No caller ID.
He answered.
"Captain Lee." The voice was distorted, mechanically altered. "You're making a mistake."
"Who is this?"
"Someone who knows what the Damascus Protocol actually contains. You must have read the files, yes? The extraction procedures? The kill methods?"
"How did you get this line?"
"Wrong question. You should ask: why does Crucible keep detailed instructions on murdering seed recipients?" The voice paused. "Extraction is just the cover story. The ritual's real purpose is something else. Something that requires all the seven recipients dead at the exact moment of convergence."
Lee's hand tightened on the communicator. "What purpose?"
