Lago had finally achieved a state of relative calmness. He had gone through all the stages. Eruptions of pure white fury detonating behind his eyes. Cold hard rage crystallized by the amphetamine coursing through his veins. Infuriation anyone would ever contemplate defying him and apoplectic delirium on realizing he was not as much in control as he thought.

“Mr Santos, sir, a glass of water?” Batac cautiously held out a glass.

Lago reached out and grasped the water with a shaking hand; he slowly drained the glass and handed it back to Batac. He was too hot; his breath was like steam as he exhaled. He gripped the desk in front of him and looked out at the blue Pacific from the bridge of Benevolent 1. He stood motionless for another full minute, trying to concentrate. Eventually, he turned and walked towards Lance and Goran. “Let's go back to Manila,” he said.

Lance attempted to placate him on the trip back. “This new arrangement with the Masama, it could be beneficial for us.”

“You think so?” Lago asked acerbically.

“They will restore the moon base for us and get it producing Helium 3. They are probably best suited to the task. Some of them can even operate in a vacuum without suits. Try to think of them as contractors, providing a service.”

“Contractors beyond my control, which I have to pay!” He growled.

“If we keep a healthy trading partnership they will become important allies. We need to maintain a good relationship with them. It will be useful long term.”

“I gave them everything and those ungrateful fuckers betrayed me. I’ll never forget that.”

“True, but the Masama are evolving into something else and have been for some time. They almost have their own shared consciousness now, like a hive mind. We knew they were developing beyond our control. It would only have got worse the longer they stayed on Earth and grown more distant.”

“Yes, they were becoming harder to handle but they were my muscle. I need that intimidation factor.”

“We can get more soldiers. BPI is in such a strong global position now we don't need to physically intimidate anyone. We can crush competition financially if we need to. We don’t need the Masama anymore.” Lance knew his words appealed to Lago, stroking his ego. “The Moon is the best place for them, they will evolve out there in space into God knows what, but the important thing is they harvest the helium 3 for us and if we desperately need their assistance, we can shuttle some back here.”

“The moon base, the shuttles, the fucking helium, it’s all mine! They just took it all and we can't do anything about it.” Lago's anger started bubbling up again.

“I am not saying we forget the debt they owe us, but we have to be pragmatic. If they had stayed on Earth, there eventually would have been some form of mutiny which could have been damaging for us. Now they are not our problem. They will produce the helium 3 we can use to control Earth's energy consumption. We will be more powerful than ever with strong allies to call upon if needed.”

The prospect of more power and control appeased Lago somewhat. Deep down he knew Lance was right about the Masama deal being beneficial although he would never admit it.

Lago, Batac and Lance had gathered in the globe room back in Manila. Goran was having his latest injury attended to by the medics. The giant holographic image of Earth hovered in the middle, glowing with illuminated energy and movement. Lago manipulated the sphere. Spinning it around with dizzying speed then stopping abruptly, enlarging and enhancing a particular area, examining the contents close up before waving it closed and spinning the globe again.

Lago loved playing God here in the globe room. He was like a child with his favourite toy. This was where he felt most in control, most powerful. Another big hit of amphetamine had made him feel invincible again. He was the most powerful man on the planet. Godlike. Indomitable and unstoppable. He had suffered some setbacks recently but if anything, these delays would only make him more determined.

Lago had enlarged an area on the shores of Lake Superior in Canada. “This will be where they are hiding,” he said not looking away from the globe. “It’s a suspected Black Robin safe house. One of many around the world. I would have destroyed them years ago if I had known they would be this much trouble. They hide their e-trails well, but the simulations say there is a seventy percent chance our fugitives are hiding there. The other safe houses are in built-up urban areas so are less likely to be hiding the hybrid and his traitorous friends.”

“Should we attack it? Bomb it out of existence?” asked Lance.

“Tempting, I definitely want them all dead. Preferably slowly and painfully but I want some remains of the hybrid to dissect. Won't need much, just a small piece.”

“What’s your plan?”

“We will fly in with drone support and pick them off. If they are not there we will interrogate whomever we find then raze the place to the ground.”

“We need more soldiers.” Lance looked over at the vacant expression on Batac’s scar-ridden face.

“I have arranged some BPI security. Actual real humans who obey orders and don't think for themselves. I am coming along as well to make sure no one fucks it up this time. Goran should be finished with the medics soon.”

Just as Lago finished his sentence Goran entered the room. They watched his blue optical field emerging from the gloom. He stalked over towards Batac and stood with his arms folded. He had a black metal ring around his neck with a rectangular speaker inset just under his chin. Where his mouth used to be was now a vent, also made of black metal which curved inwards under the bruised flesh of his cheeks where it must have been grafted to the bone. His swollen rubbery lips had been saved but they were pulled back to the extent he seemed to have a permanent macabre smile on his face. The black metal vent beneath made it look as if he was trying to swallow a piece of hardware.

“You ok boss?” asked Batac.

“No.” It was not Goran's voice emanating from the speaker. It was a metallic analogue.

“Goran, what happened to your voice?” asked Lance.

“Vocal cords severed,” Goran said in a flat, robotic monotone. There was no pitch variation in his delivery, an unimaginative digital version of a human voice box. Goran’s rich, deep and menacing voice used to be all the more significant because it was used sparingly. It added to his intimidating aura but now he looked ridiculous and sounded even more absurd.

Lago didn’t care about Goran’s appearance, he knew Goran would stand at his side as long as he still had legs. He turned his attention back to the globe where a flashing alert had caught his attention.

“It's them! They are on the move.”

Lago had enlarged a real-time image on the globe. It showed a satellite view of the rural mansion, surrounded by trees on the shores of Lake Superior. Lago zoomed in even further simply by extending his hands and spreading them as if wiping away condensation from a window. The view was sharp and detailed. They could see the white crest of a pigeon perched on the guttering of the dilapidated old building. The sun had set on Canada and the light was fading fast. Lago flicked a finger and the view brightened.

They watched four people leaving the building. Facial recognition instantly had four profiles alongside the screen with all known information about each face. Lee, Odetta, John and Rutger.

“Rutger!” exclaimed Lance. “That can't be his real name; they did a good job of erasing his past.”

Lee, Odetta and the man known as Rutger carried equipment to the nearby helicopter.

“They must be well funded, that's a brand-new Sikorsky. They don't come cheap.”

Lago stayed silent, watching intently. The large figure of John stepped back onto the steps of the building as the helicopter powered up.

“We had better move now. We can track them from the VLR, follow them and ambush them. Then we go back and take care of this John character and his safe house. Find out who is funding his terrorist organization and go after them as well.”

They were on the roof of the BPI skyscraper within minutes. The view below them was the same in every direction, grey smog covering the sprawling city like a heavy blanket. The uppermost levels of the tower broke free of the suffocating murk and clear blue skies greeted them above. Two VLRs awaited them, powered up and ready to go, their engines emitting the familiar high-pitched hydraulic hum. Eight security guards were loading weaponry into the machines.

Lance studied the security as they approached. They all stood to attention once they noticed Lago striding towards them. They were big men, all with bulging muscles and small brains, anxious to prove themselves to Lago and undoubtedly nervous about their sudden promotion. Cannon fodder thought Lance.

They did not lack for weaponry, as well as the auto guns fitted out with liquid helium spray and flamethrowers the security all had a variety of grenades, rocket launchers and knives. The VLRs themselves were laden down with auto-cannons and guided missiles. The massive amount of firepower reassured Lance somewhat but he still had misgivings about confronting Lee. They hadn't addressed his nascent hacking ability yet.

Once they were airborne, winging their way across the Pacific at maximum speed, Lance leaned in close to Lago. “This apparent mind control Lee possesses, and his other abilities, whatever they are, how will we protect ourselves?”

“We will have to be fast, take him by surprise. It would be preferable to intercept their VLR, blow it out of the sky then pick up the pieces. But if we are on foot we will have to ambush him, blast him with the cryogenic fluid before he has time to react, then hit him with the flamethrowers. We won't make the mistake of defrosting him this time though, just cut a piece off to study then turn him into ashes.”

“And if we are not quick enough?”

Lago took a deep breath and locked his gaze with Lance, making his red-rimmed eyes seem larger than life. “I am confident in my own ability to shield my mind from any form of telepathic attack. Goran, I believe is much the same, his mind is impenetrable. Batac doesn't have much of a brain to speak of anyway and the security are dispensable.”

“But they could be turned against us.”

“Then we will shoot them.”

It was obvious to Lance that Lago was going in unprepared and without a real plan. After lecturing the Masama for doing the same on the Moon, he was now about to make a similar mistake. In his arrogance, Lago assumed he would prevail in any conflict and history had proved him right. But Lance suspected Lago's drug-addled mind had fuelled his ego and clouded his judgment. He was nervous about being put in the front line, especially without a horde of Masama surrounding him. Goran was the only one Lago might listen to. Lance knew that underneath his absurd modifications he was the same cold hard emotionless warrior and probably more dangerous than ever, but Goran would never question Lago’s decisions.

Lance had never been good at containing his emotions. “What about me?” he hissed at Lago. “I am not a soldier; I shouldn't even be on this mission.”

“If I am going you are going too. If you think you are being brainwashed at any stage then shoot yourself in the head, or you can ask me to do it.” Lago stared angrily back at Lance, daring him to protest.