Admiral Geltz glanced up from his tablet as the ping of a holographic icon appeared in front of him. He quickly checked his office door was closed and his privacy shield activated before, touching the icon with his index finger, he sat back nervously to take the private call.
‘Has Loftt received the message?’ asked an anonymous electronically digitised voice.
‘He will have by now,’ replied Geltz.
‘You’re sure he’ll ignore it?’
‘Most likely – Loftt has never been one for by the book.’
‘If for some reason he does turn up, just make sure there are no survivors or wreckage.’
‘Understood.’
The line went dead and Geltz took a deep gulp of air. He hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath and he sat for a few moments staring at the wall, the fleeting image they showed him three days ago of his terrified youngest daughter chained to a cell wall forever seared into his mind.