"He has several homes. Do you know which one of them he is staying in?"
Wilkins shook his head. "No. I only know the locations of two of them."
"And what happened when he returned from Syria? How did the Council receive his after-action briefing?"
"From what I heard," said Wilkins, "he is not liked by the majority of the Council. But he is tolerated because of the results he gets. Ava, one of the leaders of the Council, despises him."
"Indeed," said Shiraz. "And why does she despise him so?"
Wilkins shrugged. "I don't know. No one seems to know why she hates him, she just does. She goes out of her way to make things hard on Lawson."
"Interesting." Shiraz scratched at his face. "And where does Ava live? In Boston also?"
Wilkins nodded. "Not technically Boston. One town over. She has an estate in Brookline."
"An estate? How nice." They might have been chatting over coffee. "Is she married?"
"No. I think he died. They had one daughter."
"Fascinating," said Shiraz. "And you're absolutely certain Lawson is currently in Boston?"
"The last time I saw the agent dispatches, he was listed as being in the city, yes."
Shiraz leaned back. "How often do you see those?"
"At least twice each week," said Wilkins. "I need to know who is available in case we have immediate action intel come through that requires a response."
"Very good. And the last time you saw the dispatches was . . . ?"
"Yesterday."
Shiraz smiled. "I must say, this has gone far better than I thought it would. I halfway expected a man such as yourself would be loath to give up his secrets. And yet here you are, freely speaking with me as if we are two of the closest friends in the world."
Wilkins rubbed his arms and looked around. "Well, you'd know if I was lying."
"Indeed." Shiraz leaned forward. "And tell me one more thing: what do you think of Lawson?"
"I don't mind him," said Wilkins.
"He's always been pleasant to me--"
The word died on his lips as Shiraz stabbed him through the heart with a length of wood. He watched without interest as Wilkins's incisors lengthened and then retracted as death came for the reedy vampire. Wilkins took a final gasp and then slumped over to one side.
"That was rather the wrong answer," said Shiraz. He looked at Hassan. "Get him out of here and then come back. We have a lot to talk about."
Hassan returned an hour later. Shiraz eyed him. "Where did you dispose of the body?"
"In the garbage compactor at the local junkyard. He won't be found."
"In any other intelligence service, it wouldn't matter. They would assume Wilkins's vices had caught up with him. But the Council must always know what happens to its people lest they think they've been compromised and the humans know about their existence." Shiraz sighed. "They'll come looking for him."
"They'll never be successful," said Hassan. "Are we leaving for Boston?"
Shiraz smiled. "I like your enthusiasm, my friend, but this must be planned carefully. Lawson has not gotten to be as good as he is without many years of experience. He managed to squirm out of our trap in Syria and he no doubt knows that I will come for him."
"But the sooner we act, the better. Our other plans . . ." Hassan's voice trailed off.
Shiraz held up his hand. "I am well aware of the need to remove Lawson prior to beginning our other work. But again, if we move too fast, he will sense us coming."