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FYI, I bodycast J K Simmons when I write Falsetti.

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“The Sixth Heaven accounts are all empty.”

Uriel’s expression was carefully controlled. This wasn’t the first time great sums of money had gone missing, so he was able to control his emotions. Operations Special Manager Falsetti always broke the news to him straight when it happened, and although he grit his teeth at the feelings of impotency when it did, he had learned to keep his calm until the Adept was done.

“The Sixth Heaven are the secret accounts assigned to Jehudiel. The man is famously secretive with what he does with the funds allotted to him. Are you sure of this?” Uriel asked only once.

“Yes, sir,” OSM Falsetti sighed, the slender man looking greatly overworked, as normal. “There’s no doubt whatsoever. All of the accounts are gone, including the ones that can only be drained in person. You, myself, and Jehudiel are the only ones that had the codes to a dozen of them, including the reserves and retirement funds for the fourteen different known members of his Whispers. They are all gone. There may be others missing we don’t know about because we don’t know if they are assigned to him or his people. We’re looking for signs of them right now.”

“And how will you be able to tell if they are?” Uriel asked evenly.

Falsetti exhaled tiredly. “Because they were emptied between 1 and 1:05 AM this morning. All the input codes were completely proper, they were done with Jehudiel’s passkeys, scans, and DNA, so they didn’t trip the alarms until I came in and noticed the withdrawals under Sixth Heaven authority. The overnight shift manager doesn’t have the authorization to review accounts at that level.”

It was Uriel’s turn to exhale grimly. “So... sending a message. Have we been able to get in contact with any of his Whispers?”

“I don’t have normal channels to contact them, sir, and I need your okay to notify the Choir about another Archangel’s private personnel.”

Uriel massaged his temples. Jehudiel was obstinately secretive about what he did, who he worked with, and where he went. He would only relate details after the fact, obsessed about mission security, and never related where his next operation was, unless it was assigned to him. His paranoia had served the Synod well... right up until now, when it did not.

There was a cautious knock on the door. Uriel frowned, but before he could say anything, OSM Falsetti shouted out grimly, “Bring it in!”

The technician, a messy-looking young man with thick spectacles, carefully opened the door, scampered in, handed Falsetti a tablet computer, and skittered out, never once looking at the Archangel behind his desk.

OSM Falsetti made no comment, but the grim contours of his frown only deepened as he studied the listing. At last, he tilted his head back and muttered a silent prayer to Ihovah. “Seventeen other accounts were closed down last night. By the rating on them, they were all either active Synod agents or deep-cover plants, sir. I don’t know if they were assigned to Jehudiel or he just knew of them.” He got up, set the tablet on Uriel’s desk and pushed it forward, then sat back down.

Uriel picked it up, and glanced over the names and the sums attached. They weren’t small, but it wasn’t devastating. It was the implications behind the withdrawals that were the problem... that, and the cheekiness of doing this right under their noses, again!

He recognized one name from a conversation with one of the others. “Kalava Doyesmanova. She’s one of Barachiel’s best. I will check and see if he loaned her out. Forward all this to the Choir with my authorization and see if they can locate the whereabouts of any of the agents tied to the compromised accounts. Contact their Archangels if required.”

They both knew that it was singularly unlikely said agents would be found. Withdrawing the private funds and retirement accounts of agents later found to be missing had become their enemy’s polite way of notifying them they’d been caught. In a bizarre way, it was either very polite of them, or they were rudely flaunting the fact they were killing Synod agents.

Of course, they didn’t do that with every missing agent, but that only left the Synod wondering if their mystery foe had killed them, or some other faction with an agenda. The Choir, the Synod’s internal security agents, was never happy when these incidents occurred, since their record in resolving the incidents was quite perfect: zero!

“Anything else of relevance?” Uriel asked, thinking the unpleasant end of the business was now going to be foisted off on someone else.

“Sixth name on the first list.” Uriel obligingly scanned the first sheet of paper he’d been given. “That’s the name of the Priest who headed up the fiasco in Mexico City. He’s already been disavowed and censured, but...” OSM Falsetti coughed. “He’s a member of the Order of Sacred Martyrs.”

Uriel’s neutral expression colored again. The Sacred Martyrs were fanatics of the Church. There was no way such a man would pull off something like that without clear instruction from superiors... and the threat of censure and disavowal meant nothing to the Order if it benefitted the Church.

“So that was one of Jehudiel’s operations.” Uriel paused only momentarily. “That woman, those women, and Coralost were involved there, correct?”

“Coralost is sponsoring and training the Undead Hunters who are actually fighting the Undead in their own territory,” Falsetti confirmed. “By all the media, the public support for their efforts is phenomenal. The Church being involved in sabotage of the effort looks very, very bad,” Falsetti went on neutrally. “I don’t know about the Hag, but Healer Fae was definitely there keeping watch for them.”

Falsetti had become sort of a sounding board for the Archangel, as he was much more in tune with mundane affairs than the immensely powerful mage. Falsetti wasn’t involved in intelligence analysis or anything, but he did watch the news regularly, and he did his job faithfully, having no outside motivations or ambitions of his own. He was where he was meant to be, he enjoyed his job, and he was actually one of the best software technicians on the planet, capable of commanding a six-figure salary at any firm out there.

Also, covert and subtle Psychic probes had been made of Falsetti to assure his loyalty. If he wasn’t a zealot of the faith, he had pride in his work, and he cared for his job and people deeply. That was enough for Uriel, who knew that tinkering with the mind of a man as sharp and astute as this was only going to hamper and destroy the things about him that were the most valuable.

“Do you know that we have never managed to run a truly successful operation against Coralost?” Uriel finally spoke up, startling Falsetti with the comment.

“Should I be leaving now?” he asked calmly, gesturing at the door behind him.

“No. It’s just a statement of fact. The Church is involved in many things for many reasons, the promised Coming just one of them. But there is no operation that involved violence, and most of those that did not involve violence, that ended positively for us. The best results we’ve had on wet operations is that the people involved completed their objectives, and then everyone died.”

Falsetti looked suitably unnerved. “And you don’t know who killed them?” he had to ask.

“No. That is what is most frustrating. We want to suspect the Golden Hag and her brute of a man, as they are known to be able to shut down magic nearby and kill mages in close-quarters. But we’ve had whole teams wiped when those two were verified to be on opposite sides of the planet, and the level of stealth required is not their style. I’ve seen photos of them literally covered in blood and dripping with gore after some battles with the Aquatics, and a few results after mages taunted them into fights and paid the price for it. While they are very dangerous to get near to, subterfuge is not their style.”

“With respect, sir, you may be underestimating their intelligence,” Falsetti said carefully.

His mild rebuke startled Uriel. “Oh?” he prompted with a raised eyebrow.

“Coralost electronic intelligence is the top of the line. I mean, THE top. Nobody is better. There are a LOT of people who’ve taken runs at their finances, accounts, computer security, internal servers, and the like. Heck, there’s a million dollar reward out there if some hacker manages to do so!

“Our systems are the best money can buy. Their systems are the best, and money can’t buy them. We can’t see where their money is, what it does, where it’s going, or how they are spending it, and there’s a lot of people looking from a lot of places. We all talk a bit, and getting one over on Coralost is one of those big mountains people in my business talk about doing.

“In addition,” he went on, before Uriel could comment, “until the Spellhouse money hit them, Coralost was small potatoes. Once it happened, they expanded so quickly and smoothly it is hard to believe. It was like they had all this incredible technology, all these patents ready and waiting and raring to go when they got enough people to actually start doing things with it.

“I looked up the patent filings for Coralost, and there are literally thousands of them in all areas. The names attached to them are all over the place, there’s no one particular genius that stands out among them... which is totally unnatural.” Falsetti reached up to take off his glasses and wipe them, a habit Uriel had recognized whenever the tech wanted to make a particularly apt point. “There’s always a true genius at the heart of stuff like that. They take the ideas of lesser people and make them a reality. They cut through the chaff of imagination and force it down to something that works.

“I don’t work intelligence and I don’t do much with magic, but I can tell you, those two are smart. Incredibly fucking smart. And the fact their public image is all blood-covered barbarians using a sword and hammer instead of magic AND they are so incredibly fucking smart is one dangerous combination.

“Sir,” he finished, putting his glasses back on.

Uriel regarded him strangely. “It’s not Healer Fae, and her mysterious background?” he pressed the other man, who just shook his head.

“No, sir. Look, I’m not doubting Healer Fae’s genius. I can’t understand a lick of what that Ritual Pattern she made that broke The Great Flood does. The new spells for Novices and Adepts are just incredible in their basic utility and understanding, the marks of TRUE genius: powerful, adaptable, simple, focused. That Singing of hers can make the heart and soul shake. She either invented or simply gave away three whole paths of magic the world didn’t even know existed, and she’s taken it all the way to being a Sage at what? Twenty-five?” Falsetti just shook his head in disbelief, and Uriel had to agree that he shared the man’s disquiet at such a rapid rise in power.

“But when they finally got some seed money, Coralost just exploded. You have to understand, sir, that it takes time to get all that stuff in place, to get it designed, then implemented, manufactured, and distributed. Coralost had all that tech designed out, probably with preliminary tests completed, the manufacturing processes designed, and just needed the funds to get the raw materials and labor hired to make it all possible.

“Coralost was coming out with stuff within three to six months of getting the money from the Spellhouses. Some of those things should have had lead times of up to five years, the production technology literally did not exist to make them... so they filed patents on the production technology, too!

“Those two are the owners and managers of Coralost, and Coralost is thriving under them. That is not what blood-soaked barbarians do. Those two are savage fighters, genius inventors, and incredible managers. You wrap all that up in one package, and you have a couple of very dangerous people.” He kept Uriel’s thoughtful gaze. “Or, to put it another way... why do you think Healer Fae, probably the most talented mage of this generation, chose them to work with? They were a couple of no-magic nobodies with some radical ideas nobody took too seriously.

“Just add money, and suddenly Coralost is one of the fastest-growing and innovative businesses in the world. Everyone wants something they have to offer. In terms of technology, magitech, technomagic, and pure innovation, everyone wants to work for them, and everyone wants to hire the people they trained.”

Uriel just shook his head in amusement. “Such trifling accomplishments mean nothing when Judgment Day comes,” he promised Falsetti, who just shrugged.

“As you say, sir. I’m just saying, people in my line of work know those two are not dumb, and they are probably damn geniuses. You might want to think that over a bit.”

“I will take it into consideration.” Falsetti rose without another word and headed out of the office, knowing he was effectively dismissed. If the Archangel didn’t want to take his words seriously, it was none of his business. Uriel probably knew things that he didn’t.