The First Prophet

Miranda was frowning. “I know you let yourself be seen this time, and I know why, but I think we need to be very careful. A psychic they assumed to be safe turned out to be a target; we can’t make the same assumption about our people. Or about us.”

 

 

“Especially,” Bishop agreed, “if they really do have a traitor in their midst. We both know how damaging just the suspicion of a traitor can be when our lives depend on the teammates we expect to be watching our backs. The stakes are just as high for them. Maybe higher.”

 

“So…we wait and watch. Gather information when we can, as quietly as we can. Keep our own people close. And don’t stick our noses in unless and until we know what’s really going on. Or know we can help the network somehow.”

 

“It seems the best way to handle this, at least for now, and unless something changes.”

 

“You trust Murphy.”

 

Slowly, Bishop said, “I think Murphy has more secrets than her allies know about, her contact with me being one of them. But is she a traitor to their cause? I’d be surprised if she turned out to be that. On the other hand, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she has her own agenda.”

 

“Another unanswered question?”

 

“Another piece of the puzzle, at least. We just have to figure out where the pieces go. What the big picture really is.”

 

“Oh, is that all?” His wife’s tone was dry.

 

“Another challenge,” Bishop noted with a faint smile. “Whatever the truth is, whatever that big picture turns out to be, we’ll be ready when the time comes.”

 

“I don’t doubt that,” Miranda responded. “We’ll be ready. I’m just not sure the rest of the world will be.”

 

“No,” Bishop said. “Neither am I.” He tapped the edge of the folder against his hand and repeated slowly, “Neither am I.”

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