Henrik could not be located," Bouchard says with a sniff. "Questioning him was my first thought as well."
"Lang's input should be irrelevant!" Kashif says, pushing his way to the front of the group. "The Tremere have attacked me in my haven, and now they've come after Alisha! Killed her ghoul and her mercenaries! The Sheriff is right; we must strike and strike hard. We cannot show weakness to the Usurpers!"
"Exactly," Qui says. "We should all respect the importance of the Traditions. The Tremere knew what they were doing when they hid down here without presenting themselves to the Court. Now they'll pay the price."
Bouchard rolls his eyes. "As if I care what a neonate has to say on the matter."
"No more arguing," Qui says. "We're moving out. I'll make sure sufficient numbers survive so you can question them, Michel. Does that satisfy you?"
"It will have to," the Nosferatu snarks. "But you'd better watch yourself, Sheriff. Strange things happen down here in the depths. People go missing all the time."
Qui chooses to ignore the thinly veiled threat. "Let's move, people!"
Next
The hunting party travels north through the twists and turns of Bouchard's underground domain, and before long you're completely and utterly lost. The dark, grime-covered brick of the main channel is met at regular intervals by newer concrete pipes of varying sizes, and from time to time the larger passage branches to the left or right in three- or four-way intersections.
You trudge forward for what feels like at least half an hour, resolutely ignoring the upward-wafting stench as two dozen pairs of feet stir up mixed waste products best kept from your imagination.
From the front of the hunting party, Qui holds up a warning hand. "We're almost under Parliament Hill," he whispers, looking to Bouchard. "You said that's where your associates found them?"
Bouchard nods. "I still think we should send my scouts ahead," he says stubbornly.
Qui ignores him and quietly gives orders for his mortal mercenaries to fan out into a wedge with the Kindred directly behind them. "When we encounter the enemy," he says, "Martinez and Jones will throw their incendiaries while the rest of you open fire. If they come for us or stand their ground after the initial volley, fall off to the side of the tunnel and let us through while providing covering fire as we charge. Understood?"
The mercenaries nod and grip their rifles in sling-ready position as they get into formation. Lucca moves up near the front, cracking her knuckles loudly as she waits to get moving. Behind you, Jordan falls back to the rear of the party.