Vance turned back towards the door. “No, no, don’t take me for a fool,” he yelled into the phone. “What game are you playing here, huh? No, you listen to me. Matthew Taylor is in my house right now. Yes. In the flesh.” Vance turned to Cathartes and spoke slowly. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. There is some conspiracy against me. This fraud claims to be you.”

Cathartes coughed. He altered his voice slightly so that it could not be recognised as Taylor’s by his real counterpart. He had to hide the possibility that he had an Astra of taking others’ forms, or at least, the true extent of his powers. “Place him on speaker,” he instructed authoritatively.

Vance did so. “This sniper who’s here to assassinate me. You’re involved, aren’t you?” Vance said to the real Taylor on the phone.

“You’re calling me an impostor?” the real Taylor said, as though contemplatively, “That’s definitely interesting. Especially since the last bunch of people I’ve spoken to claimed not to have been where they were.” Cathartes shuddered.

The policeman continued with a haughty air, “Mr Vance, listen to me. I, too, think there is a conspiracy against you. But I am not part of it. How would I be able to enter your house? How would I know that a hit would be placed on you? There is a very simple explanation for that. The one you are with is the impostor.”

Charles Vance looked up at Cathartes and frowned, squinting at him. “Jesus. What the hell is going on? All of this!”

The real Taylor laughed with a gentle breath. “Calm down, Mr Vance. I can show you who I am. Easily.” Cathartes breathed in sharply. Taylor turned on the video call function on his phone and showed his face. 

Vance frowned and looked repeatedly at Cathartes. It appeared clearly enough that the seeds of doubt had been sown. Taylor began calmly, “Whatever is going on at your house, I’m about as clueless as you. But I actually called for a very specific reason. There’s something I’d like to verify.” 

“No. Hold on just a second. You’d better explain yourself first.”

Taylor waved the phone around and showed him around the room he was standing in. Cathartes felt a chill run up his spine. 

It was Brett Lawyer’s home. 

In the background, she was seated on a wooden chair and gagged. Her wrists were cuffed behind her back and her legs were tied to the chair. Her door was covered with a cluster of bullet holes. “See? That’s an acquaintance of yours, right? The one whose husband you ordered a hit on?” Taylor cocked his pistol and had it trained on her head. “Mr Vance, your answer will determine something very important.”

“Ha! What the hell are you doing there with Mrs Lawyer? Visiting the wake?” Vance asked with half a tinge of satisfaction and confusion. “Hey, if you want to kill her, just do it. It doesn’t mean much to me. What’s one more life? It’s not like we haven’t sent others away before. Just let her join her man.” He laughed. “But just make it clear that I have nothing to do with that.”

“I don’t exactly want to kill innocent people when it’s of no use… And she has a daughter and everything. It gets messy. It’s hard to justify to the higher-ups. Even to them.”

“Yeah, well… Just tell them she was executed for getting in the way of my campaigning…” he joked. “Alright, so what’s the question?”

“I called earlier to ask you, but you didn’t pick up. I need to know something.” Taylor brought the phone close to Brett Lawyer and turned on the speaker on his side. “Did you send that email to me and Carl? To warn us of the hit? See, Mrs Lawyer here claims she did not. She claims to know nothing about it. Now, if you did not, then I know she’s lying, and she will be executed. Legally, of course. For the abetment of mass murder. Or whatever. We’ll find something. If you did send the email, fine, she lives for now. And Mrs Lawyer, listen closely. What he says will be the verdict for this trial!” He laughed mockingly. 

Cathartes thought rapidly for a way out of this. He had to grasp anything and everything he had at his disposal. But what?

Vance stared at an invisible point in space, as though he was processing every possibility. “You set me up, haven’t you?” he said to Cathartes. “One of you. I don’t know which. Or both of you. There is no sniper, is there? You were trying to lure me out of the house. To kidnap me? Are you in cahoots with Brett Lawyer? Come on, tell her her husband’s gone, I won’t bother with her. So she shouldn’t meddle with me.” 

“Now, hold on,” the real Taylor continued, “answer me first—” Vance muted the call’s audio. Cathartes froze. What was he doing? What if Taylor simply lost his patience?

Vance eyed his hanging rifle and headed towards it. “I’ll deal with you first. I’ll find out which one of you is real. And you will tell me everything.” 

“Wait, wait.” It was the good old rifle again. Stirring up trouble like the last time.

The politician stepped backwards, away from the safety of the wall. He was now visible through the windows. Very visible to the hunter next door.

Cathartes clenched his fists. He had to think of something. Fast.

*

Across the street, Haliaeetus observed as Richard Tate tensed up. 

He must have spotted his target’s body moving into view. 

He shifted his position on the ground and readied his rifle. He adjusted it. 

Haliaeetus could tell that Vance was soon to be in his range. 

“Goddamn it!” She struck the parapet with her fist. 

“Walk away! Walk away!” 

Vance strode further into view. 

*

Meanwhile, Cathartes implored, “I assure you, Mr Vance. Whatever your doubts are, I can explain it in good time. The threat of the sniper is real. You will die if you take a step further!” 

“I’d like to put that theory to the test.” He took a further step back. 

“Come on!” Cathartes reached out his hand.

Vance shook his head with a dark smile. “Not so easy to swindle me. I know something isn’t right.”

A sudden shot breached the room, boring straight through the glass.