sloppy.”
Damien shrugged. “Not everybody can be a general in the war. You need foot soldiers also. Expendable foot soldiers.”
That seemed to appease the other man.
“Attacking one person isn’t going to bring Omega down.” Red Tie began his pacing again. “It’s not going to change the status quo within law enforcement. I’ve got no beef with Fitzgerald in particular.”
“No.” Damien held himself perfectly still in direct opposition to the other man’s pacing. “But attacking one person will split Omega’s focus. Then the next hit will split their focus more. And the one after that, et cetera, et cetera.”
Red Tie stopped his pacing. “But eventually we have to hit them hard. Not little hits. One giant strike with great force. I’ve already got something in the beginning stages.”
Damien smiled, showing just the right amount of teeth to make it look authentic. “To begin the revolution.”
“Exactly.”
“Be patient. We’ll make our most deadly strike once everything is in place. Until then, we just continue to wound them—both people inside Omega and those connected to them—without them realizing how much they’re bleeding out. Omega will limp along until it’s time for you to make your move. Bring the whole organization down for good.”
A huge grin spread over Red Tie’s face. “They’ve always underestimated me. They’ll never see it coming.”
So Red Tie wasn’t truly about the revolution after all. He’d been slighted and wanted personal revenge. Of course, he probably couldn’t see that in himself, had convinced himself of his visionary status.
Damien didn’t care either way. He would use whatever tools became available to him in his fight to take apart Omega Sector. Whether they thought of themselves as visionaries or just wanted payback, Damien didn’t care.
He would use them all. And when they were no longer useful to him, he would discard them all.
“Are you going to tell me your name?” Damien finally asked the man.
He tilted his head in suspicion. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure I can trust you.”
The first intelligent thing that had been said all day.
“Shall I just address you as ‘hey you’?” Damien crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t really need the man’s name. Honestly, at this point he didn’t care.
“You can call me Fawkes.”
Damien gave a short bark of laughter. “As in, Guy Fawkes, the man who tried to blow up the British Parliament? Okay, Mr. Fawkes, let me know when you want to meet again.” Damien turned to leave.
“Wait, that’s it? What about planning the attack? The big one.”
Damien turned back around. “It’s not time yet. If we strike now, we’ll fail. We weaken Omega Sector one little piece at a time. And when they’re hollowed out? That’s when we strike.”
Damien was nothing if not a master planner. He’d always excelled at chess because he played four moves ahead of where the pieces currently sat on the table.
Fawkes didn’t looked pleased. “Maybe you’re afraid. Maybe I’ve come to the wrong person.”
Damien didn’t rise to the bait. Wasn’t even tempted. He walked closer to Fawkes and touched his tie, waiting to see if the action would spur Fawkes to violence. Fawkes tensed but didn’t do anything.
Good. More self-control than Damien had given him credit for. Fawkes would need it in the weeks ahead.
“You’ll have your revolution when the time is right, Mr. Fawkes. Be patient. Continue gathering your intel, both on those inside the organization and those connected to it. Finding vulnerable spots we can stab quickly, retreating before they know they’re wounded. Never knowing the largest wound is yet to come.”
The younger man still didn’t like it. But he nodded. Damien smiled and slapped him on his shoulder. “Good. Then, until we meet again, Mr. Fawkes.”
He turned to leave but then stopped at Fawkes’ final words.
“You know, you’re awfully trusting with who you give your name to. I know who you are. Even Harper knows who you are. Aren’t you afraid Omega Sector is going to find out about you?”
Damien didn’t turn back around. “Not worried at all. Omega Sector already knows about me. They’re the ones who created me in the first place.”
“When they stopped you from blowing up yourself and all those people in that bank nearly five years ago?”
Now Damien turned around, eyebrow raised. “You’ve done your homework, Mr. Fawkes.”
“I always check every possible angle.”
Damien doubted this man could even see every possible angle, much less check them. “If Omega hadn’t interfered, I would’ve been long dead by now. But they did. Thankfully, I must say.”
And what Fawkes didn’t know—what Damien himself hadn’t even known until recently—was that Omega Sector had created him long before they stopped him from blowing up that bank. Long before they’d thrown him in that prison.
They’d created him when they’d killed his precious Natalie seven years ago.
And now they would pay. Would know the agony he’d known at her death.
Damien took a few steps toward Fawkes. “I have no doubt Omega Sector will eventually figure out it’s me behind the little attacks. Honestly, I hope it’s sooner rather than later. You are the one we’ve got to keep hidden.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll never suspect me.”
“Make sure, Fawkes. Because your revolution will never get off the ground at all if they do.”
“You worry about your part, I’ll worry about mine. I’ve already got something in the works that will start shaking them up.”
Damien raised an eyebrow. “Anything I should know about?”
The other man smiled. “No. Just an extra little something to splinter their focus. Like you said.”
Damien fought a grimace. The problem with working with someone like Fawkes was that the man was just smart enough, just ambitious enough, to have plans of his own. Plans Damien hadn’t created and therefore didn’t control. But Damien knew when to back off. This was one of those times.
“Okay, then. Just be careful. Don’t lose the war just to win one battle.”
Fawkes shrugged. “I won’t. I know the endgame.”
Fawkes thought he knew the endgame. He didn’t. But Damien just nodded at him. “I’ll look forward to our next meeting.”
He turned again and walked out the door of the warehouse, putting on sunglasses as he stepped into the bright sun shining over the Rockies framing Denver. He’d be in his car in two minutes. Five minutes after that, he would change his appearance enough that he’d be able to walk right by Fawkes or Curtis Harper and neither of them would ever recognize Damien.
It was just one of Damien’s skills and one of the reasons he’d been able to avoid capture by Omega Sector for the last ten months since he broke out of prison. They were looking for someone who didn’t match Damien’s description at all.
Damien Freihof was the greatest criminal mastermind Omega Sector had ever battled. He didn’t care if he was waxing poetic now. Truth was truth. Omega was at war, they just didn’t know it yet.
They’d targeted him for years. Now it was their turn to become the target.