Читать книгу Immovable Objects - Marie Ferrarella, Marie Ferrarella - Страница 8

The man known simply as Titan to his enemies, head of the mysterious Titan Syndicate, was very aware of his surroundings as he walked the dusky, mean streets of Philadelphia.

This was not the Philadelphia of the Founding Fathers. It was raw and edgy and dangerous. Still, a rare note of fondness vibrated within him. He’d preferred Chicago, but even Philly was better than being exiled in Europe.

Europe had not been to his liking. But staying there had been necessary. Otherwise, all he would have seen of his native country would have been the inside of a jail cell.

Because small minds didn’t understand.

The FBI had been breathing down his neck then.

But now the tables were turned and he was a problem for them, not the other way around. He enjoyed taunting, being one step ahead. He’d even taken to sending enigmatic postcards to that dolt Agent Liam Brooks. It excited him to be the thorn in that idiot’s side.

Peasants, all of them, stupid Neanderthal peasants with their insignificant lives, their annoying laws and their narrow way of seeing things. Didn’t they realize that he was a genius? A genius who saw potential for power, for greatness, while others sleepwalked through their humdrum existences, paying attention to confining things like right and wrong. Allowing that narrow view to get in the way of progress.

Yes, he did enjoy leading them around by their noses, these tin demigods with their code of ethics and their long arms. Just because that stupid New York senator had overdosed on the drug. His drug. The “honorable” senator had been an unwitting guinea pig, a step closer to the right direction.

But the drug wasn’t quite ready yet.

And the FBI was looking for him, or someone like him.

The anal fools had blown up his lab in Chicago, killing some of his people. People were replaceable, time was not. They were preventing him from perfecting the drug that would ultimately allow him to control key people. Allow him to be a puppet master until he was ready to take center stage, where he rightfully belonged.

But that day was still on the horizon. Right now, in order to complete his experiments, reach the right kind of chemical balance, he needed more information. More key input.

And he needed to find those brats again, all six of them.

Even if he had to move heaven and earth and destroy all the angels in the process to do it, he would reach his goal. He was born to be a leader. It was his due, his right.

It wasn’t by chance that he’d selected for himself the name of Titan.