The vid screen beeped to indicate an incoming message. The Illusive Man looked up from the report he was studying at his desk and noted the call was coming over a secure line.
"Answer," he said, and an image of Paul Grayson flickered into view.
The Illusive Man blinked in mild surprise. He had assumed the mission to infiltrate the quarian flotilla was a failure, simply because two weeks had passed and he hadn't heard anything. With most Cerberus assignments he could get general updates by watching the news vids, but with no media coverage of what went on in the confines of the Migrant Fleet, it had rendered him as clueless and ignorant as any ordinary, average citizen.
"Paul," he said with a slight tilt of his head. "Has the asset been recovered?"
"Her name is Gillian," the man answered. The hostility in his tone was unmistakable.
"Gillian, then," the Illusive Man conceded, his voice cold. "What happened on the mission?"
"The team's dead. All of them. Golo. Everyone."
"Except you."
"I'm as good as dead," Grayson replied. "I'm a ghost now. You'll never find me."
"What about your daughter?" the Illusive Man asked. "How long will she be able to survive as a fugitive? A life on the run is no life for her. Bring her in, Paul, and we can talk about what's best for Gillian."
Grayson laughed. "She's not even with me. She's on a quarian deep-space exploration vessel out in the middle of some uncharted system beyond the edge of the galaxy. You'll never find her."
The Illusive Man's jaw clenched ever so slightly as he realized the girl was beyond his reach. The fact that Grayson was willing to taunt him with the information was clear evidence of how impossible it would be to track her down. He relied on a network of Cerberus informants throughout Council Space and the Terminus Systems to supply him with a constant flow of information. Out beyond that network he was literally blind.
"I thought you were loyal to the cause, Paul."
"I was," Grayson answered. "Then I saw the kind of people who share your vision, and I had a change of heart."
The Illusive Man sneered at the screen. "I'm in the business of saving lives, Paul. Human lives. You used to understand that. Now it seems you're suddenly trying to save your soul."
"I think my soul is too far gone to save."
"Then why are you calling?" the Illusive Man demanded, the smallest hint of frustration creeping into his voice.
"I'm giving you a warning," the man on the other end of the vid screen answered. "Stay away from Kahlee Sanders. If you come after her, I go to the Alliance with everything I know."
The Illusive Man studied the image on the vid screen carefully. He noticed the familiar signs of Grayson's red sand use — the bloodshot pupils, the faintly luminous sheen on his teeth — were missing. And he realized the man wasn't bluffing.
"Why is she worth so much to you?"
"Does it matter?" Grayson countered. "She's hardly worth anything to you. Not compared to all the dirty little secrets I have. I figure my silence in exchange for her safety is a bargain."
"We will find you, Paul," the Illusive Man promised in a menacing whisper.
"Maybe," Grayson admitted. "But that's not why I called. Kahlee Sanders — do we have a deal?"
After taking a moment to weigh the offer, the Illusive Man nodded his acceptance. Gillian's loss would set their biotic research back a full decade, but Cerberus had too many other projects on the go to risk them all for this. On the screen Grayson smiled. An instant later the image went blank as the call was disconnected.
He didn't bother trying to trace the call — Grayson was too smart to slip up on something that simple. Instead, the Illusive Man just stared at the blank screen for a long, long time, slowly clenching and unclenching his jaw.
2008 year