Huh," Dove says. "Didn't expect that. So what do we do about Julian Sim?"
"He's just some Anarch," Lettow says with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"But we still don't know where he's operating out of. Isn't that strange? He used to work out of Denver. Where is his lab now? Why don't we know?"
"We have bigger problems," Lettow says. "We have to deal with the SI before we end up like Dallas or Flagstaff."
"Well, if you're not going to destroy this neonate, you might as well put him to work," Dove says.
"I see everything that happens in my town, Krarr," Lettow says.
Dove looks shocked. "Can we trust him to—"
"We can trust him not to work for an organization dedicated to the eradication of all Kindred," the Prince says.
Lettow signals for Dove to close the double doors. He offers you a strange smile. It seems sincere, but you're not sure why—your performance here has not been exemplary.
Dove is still skeptical, though you've noticed that both she and her ghoul Carlos have lost the immediate hostility with which they once greeted you. They must need you badly.
"The Second Inquisition has been quiet for years," Lettow says. "You may have noticed a recent downturn in your business as a courier, Krarr. That's because many in the local Camarilla were convinced that they had contained the threat. They started sending emails again, using phones. I did not. That's why the Viper is still standing, while the Elysiums in Flagstaff and Santa Fe and a dozen havens in Dallas are smoking ruins. At least we think they are—there aren't enough couriers left to tell us what happened.
"I can stop the Second Inquisition. I can hit them so hard that they leave us alone for half a century. But to do that, I need you to make three more runs over the course of the next month. These are strictly driving jobs. You'll pick things up or drop them off. I will pay you $5,000 per job—plus inducements for excellent service, of course—and you can deal with them in whatever way you see fit, but they must all be completed within…" He looks at Dove.
"Twenty-six nights," Dove says. She doesn't elaborate.
"I'm glad we have an understanding," Lettow says. "And again, this is just driving. If you want to get into trouble on the road, you're welcome to, of course.
"To answer your question, well, every invasion has a timeline, and I have gained access to some of Agent Donati's plans. She reaches Tucson on December 18. And if she has her way, my city will burn on the nineteenth."
"So where am I going?" you ask.
"First, the Toreador D'Espine runs a nightclub in Dallas," the Prince of Tucson tells you. "A courier was supposed to arrive from there with information. He never made it. You need to succeed where your predecessor failed.
"Second, there is a ruined research facility just across the border in Utah. Jasper Knowles and Invidia Caul were both involved in research there. They did a good job stripping the place, but Knowles left an emergency cache there in case the Inquisition should begin again. I need that cache.
"Finally, we need to destroy Reremouse."
"No!" Dove screams.
Other Princes would twist their underling's head off for that outburst, but Lettow just raises a hand. His voice is stern, though, when he says, "If that monster awakens, he will march across the desert and draw the attention of every hunter in the United States. Krarr, when you and Julian Sim were fledglings, you provided Reremouse with prey. I need you to transport some scanning equipment to his domain so we can find him."
You're not driving into a literal war zone," Lettow says. "It's not like the SI has declared martial law. They have struck at a handful of havens, mostly of fledglings who thought they could start using Facebook again. D'Espine has kept her head down and remained safe."
"At least we think she has," Dove says.
"You just need to drive there, pick up a suitcase full of recent data, and get back," Lettow says.
"Start wherever you like, Krarr," Lettow says. "I'll have more information for you tomorrow night. Oh, and one last thing—stay off the highways. The SI's contacts in regular government and police agencies are all over them. That'll slow you down, but it's only a two-night trip instead of one."
That seems to be the signal for your departure. Dove rises and opens the door. You feel Prince Lettow's gaze on your back as you leave, but you and he are separated by so many centuries that you don't know what it means. In that moment you suddenly feel human again, and you don't like it.
You return to your parking garage and park the Vauxhall.
You spend a night dealing with various hassles and trying to get in touch with your contacts, all of whom are busy with something else. Frustrated, you retire early.
You drift in day-sleep, troubled by dreams, before you awaken suddenly a few minutes before sunset.
Something is wrong. Someone is here. And they're attacking during the day, when you're weakest.
You grab your duffel bag off the floor. You can't stay here. You throw the door open just as something drops in through the vent in your room.
You don't have time to react before the explosion knocks you to the ground, unhurt but covered in fragments of concrete.
You hear police-style radio chatter and see green laser light shimmering in the dust of the parking garage.
Your Vauxhall is right there—and then suddenly it isn't. You're knocked backward by an explosion of white light. When you can see again, nothing remains of your car but a sizzling husk.
The Second Inquisition closes in.
Next