The very quiet “Hoskins’s Horse” glides through the early morning streets of Lisbon. Both Emily and Suleiman are unaware that evil eyes are watching every move.
A smallish man emerges from the early morning shadows. The misshapen and barely human form emanates pure evil. “Master, do you see?” croaks the creature.
Far away in the Atlas mountains of Morocco tucked in a eerily lit cavern Mr. Moss answers, “I see with your eyes just fine, minion.”
“Return to your duties. Ensure Mr. Wilson gets on that ship to America without incident.”
“Yes, master. It will be done as you bid.” whines the sub-human.