Tuia woke to the sound of a phone ringing. She sat bolt upright and snatched the phone off her nightstand, glancing briefly at the screen. It was 3:07 a.m.
“This had better be good,” she spat coolly into the receiver.
“Good news, Lady!” the caller said. His voice was low, tightly controlled despite the obvious enthusiasm in his message. “The Final Solution is ready to go. It has passed all of our tests. It cannot be stopped by any means available to humankind.”
Tuia sucked in her breath with a whistle. “You’re certain of this?”
“I have never been more certain of anything. This is it. This is what we have been working for all of these years,” the man replied. “We’re just waiting for your word to begin production.”
“Do it,” she said, then hung up. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. There was work to do. Preparations to be made. War was about to begin and Tuia Windus held all of the pawns.