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  • War has begun...are you ready?


    Rami deChartres

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    ((Continued from here))

     

    It was getting late and Washington was closer than New York.

     

    Tire bounced easily over the curb at 17th and Pennsylvania Ave, driving up on the massive granite walkway causing several guards at the gate to make chase.

     

    Bike shut down as he lifted a leg off, Enoch hopping down and already beginning to trot up the regal steps as he removed the straps from the duffle, its weight heaved up to rest on his shoulder as he followed the feral canine, guards yelling at him from behind.

     

    The man that strode into the foyer as though he had been there a thousand times hardly looked as though he belonged. Clothing was saturated in soot and blood, his boots tracking a thick trail of mud and ash over the foyer's intricate marble and granite floors as he headed directly for the receptionist behind the wide wooden desk. Perhaps most disconcerting however, was the blood that caked in three crosses on his brow.

     

    [rami]… highest ranking here right now?[/rami]

     

    He caught the delicate woman so off guard she stuttered at him wide-eyed and trembling.

     

    [npc]…Mr Rezanov is here…up….upstairs….third….third floor of the west wing….[/npc]

     

    Duffle was shifted on his shoulder as he made for the grandiose stairs. If they wanted to screen people they needed to get a more stable receptionist. Enoch was sniffing the floor and trotting ahead of the man as guards began converging on the three story tall foyer of the building. Hazel eyes were fixed up the stairs as guns were being leveled at his head and chest. When one rose to Enoch the feral animal began to bristle, hair standing on end as the growl rumbled into the room like low thunder.

     

    [rami]…try to shoot that dog.. and I promise you will never walk out of this building again.[/rami]

     

    The voice was calm, low and yet the resonance carried easily throughout the open space as he kept moving forward, several itchy fingers beginning to move to their triggers. But as he made the first step of the stairwell, a red-headed guard who couldn’t have been more than twenty caught site of the ebony crosses engraved up the sinews of his neck and immediately had his hand on top of the machine gun of the guard beside him.. shoving it down hard as wide eyes shook "no" to all the others.

     

    [npc]…of….of course Mr… Mr deChartres… no one here has any intention of.. um.. shooting anyone.[/npc]

     

    At the first note of his name there was instantly a hush as guns started to lower, wide eyes looking from eachother to the filthy man and his feral companion. They had never laid eyes upon the Cavalier, but all Vanguard had descriptions of the rare warrior monks of their faction. Rami was described to them by the painting of his skin, in particular, the crosses that tended to be visible up his neck. Filthy boot hit the first step but paused. Right hand slid into his jean pocket, the small digital camera pulled from the fabric and tossed at the red-headed guard who nearly dropped it in his fumbling before securing it, eyes a bit wide at the dried blood on the silver.

     

    [rami]…print all the photos and bring them up to me as soon as possible.[/rami]

     

    [npc]..yes…Yes Sir![/npc]

     

    The man didn’t see the faint salute, already striding up the staircase as the youth sprinted off to do as he was asked. Hazel coolly watched Enoch move ahead once more, tail swaying as he sniffed his way up to the third floor. Rami had never been in the Washington Legion, but he had read the dossiers of all the legions and the student never forgot. Third floor west wing, the largest office would be the former Ceremonial Office of the Vice President which was down the far end of the corridor. It was also the only door that Enoch was heading for, clearly the rest of the wing was empty at the moment, seemed 8pm meant after hours around here.

     

    Rezanov was Deputy Director in New York. The Cavelier wondered what brought him out to Washington as he stood in the open doorway looking at the older man, waiting to be noticed. When the eyes came up to meet his he spoke.

     

    [rami]Deputy Director. We need to talk.[/rami]

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    The room was dark. Six individuals sat about a highly polished table while ghastly images of bodies flashed across a series of screens. As the pictures changed, the debate heated.

    Legion Commander Burrows and Director Bellamy were down in Atlanta, leaving the newly appointed Deputy Director of Operations, Alia Cole at the helm. A capable woman in her own right, one that took no offence when the New York Deputy Director was forewarned of a visitor before herself. Most of the Washington legionaries regarded the New York Deputy Director as her superior. The man’s reputation preceded him and Ms. Cole was not so naive nor carelessly ambitious as to believe their equal ranks equated to equal standing. Not yet. Still, she was no ‘paper-tiger’. She had worked damn hard, and well aware of that ‘chip’ on her shoulder had been more than a little surprised of the man’s efforts to alleviate those subtle tensions that might have inadvertently arisen between them due to it. This was not the hard-hearted, discourteous man she had heard about.

    They had been engrossed in debate when they were interrupted by a call from an anxious legionnaire alerting them of a Cavalier seeking an audience with the highest ranking official. Not, Deputy Director Cole.

    Deputy Director Rezanov acknowledged the breech of protocol with a sideways glance to Cole but did not apologize. Speaking out of turn, he questioned the guard as to the nature of this rather self-assertive man and upon learning his name promptly rose from his chair.

    Adjusting the buttons on his gun-metal grey suit he addressed the four men sitting across from him with a stern nod [vacily]Gentleman.[/vacily] Then turning to his fellow Deputy Director, offered Alia Cole an apologetic bow. [vacily]This is important.[/vacily]

    Alia slowly batted her heavy eyelashes, dark eyes sparkling incredulously. How could he be so sure? The guard had uttered a name, ‘deChartres’. She had heard of him, many had. To her, just another Chevalier. Loose cannons. She had never supported the reinstatement of the archaic unit.

    [npc]Deputy Director Rezanov, a word please.[/npc] Cole quietly requested as she trailed behind but further exchanges were halted as the intruder’s silhouette appeared through the tinted glass doors. She was surprised to see the state of the man that barged in, blood stained and blackened with soot. Not at all impressed with the presence of the hound either. Vacily, however, was almost inviting while the other four men regarded this acceptance for the breech of conduct with silent derision. The man looked like he’d been dragged through hell and back. There were protocols to follow, subordinates that should have been dealing with this lowly trooper.

    The two ‘old world’ government officials were hardly impressed but no longer sat in a position where they could dictate their policies without discretion. The other two, representatives from the Order of First Light, quickly went from vexation to fascination, their curiosity piqued by the warrior’s appearance. Unlike the other ‘men’, the magus knew what this soldier was and what he represented to the Vanguard. He was no mere legionnaire but of a sect within their ranks that delved back centuries to the very core of their society. Still, no matter what this man had to report, Cole very much doubted it surpassed the importance of this meeting.

    [npc]Just who the hell is this guy?[/npc] The Washington Deputy Director of Operations demanded of her New York counterpart. She was fed up, the flush of her dark brown cheeks making her feelings quite apparent. Alia had jumped through hoops to arrange this meeting and Rezanov knew it!

    [vacily]A Cavalier.[/vacily] Vacily gravely answered, his cool steely stare washing over her heated gaze.

    Alia knew well that the man’s like existed outside of normal conventions and reminded of such could only bite her tongue and fume, but it was far more than that. Vacily had never been much of a traditionalist, nor did he hold much store in the convictions of these ‘warrior-monks’. Not until a year ago, when the old man had learned that he had a son.

    He had met Caleb during a training exercise. Vacily liked to prepare with the troopers when ever he got the chance, it built up moral and allowed him to personally experience the caliber of legionnaires coming down the pipe. The kid was instantly familiar, like looking back in time at himself. It happened from time to time when people got old enough but the similarities were uncanny. Days later, the young man still on his mind Vacily did some checking to satisfy his curiosity and flags immediately went up. His surname was Lock and as it turned out he had known a woman all those years ago with the same name. She had never married but had a child, the father never known. Alexandria had been her name, he remembered her well. She worked for the F.B.I., they had met at a conference and immediately hit it off. They tried to make a go of it but eventually it became quite clear that their carriers were more important to another and so they parted ways. For a time they kept in touch, but eventually even the correspondence faded away.

    It took months to confront the young man. Caleb was preparing to become a Cavalier and Vacily, who had taken the promising legionnaire under his wing was doing everything in his power to convince him otherwise. He wanted to walk in the footsteps of his mentor, a one Rami deChartres, the very man standing before him now.

    The two had never seen eye to eye but in time a mutual respect had formed between them. Caleb’s decision made, Vacily had entrusted Rami to guide his newly discovered son in the ways of the esoteric sect. He had never questioned the man’s conviction but had always feared their lifestyle and now there was a grimness in those haunting eyes that chilled Vacily to the bone.

    [vacily]What is it?[/vacily] Vacily anxiously demanded. Fearing the worst he made no effort to leave the room. He didn’t care who heard, he just needed to know. [vacily]Rami, where’s Caleb?[/vacily]

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    It somehow was appropriate that it was Rezanov that was there for this discussion. It was the hero-worship of a phantom that had made their paths cross. Caleb knew the stories of the cavaliers, the reports of their missions. He was enamored with a romantic notion that was far from the truth of their existence. But romantic fascination turned to an obsession with one in particular. An enigma that even the reports knew little about. The cavalier marked by ink that showed a reverence for something bigger than all of them became a "role model" Caleb aspired to emulate.

     

    That dogged obsession was what had finally drawn Vacily out to contact the cavalier. Being asked to act as mentor was not really in the description of the warrior-monks of the Vanguard. Perhaps from the very beginning the Deputy Director knew his son was not suited for the rank and hoped that the enigma would be a safety net.

     

    It didn’t work that way.

     

    Rami was not one to repeat himself. He said things with purpose and said them once. If they were ignored that was on the listener not himself. He had written the Deputy Director just once that the boy was ill suited as a cavalier, but would make a strong Marshall and even down the road, a potential Legion Commander. The warning went unanswered. Likely because the Deputy Director was adverse to demoting his own son.

     

    It wasn’t that Caleb didn’t listen, or didn’t learn. He had the fighting skills; he had good instincts; he could go toe to toe with nearly any altered. He had the warrior part down pat.

     

    It was the serenity of the monk that he lacked.

     

    Caleb enjoyed being around people and cavaliers were effective because they worked and existed alone. Caleb's insistence to include companions on his expeditions had resulted in several near misses, including one that had gotten a trooper injured and Rami suspected that it was this same insistence to be inclusive that had gotten him killed this time.

     

    As Rami stood in the doorway, Enoch walked right to his side and sat, haunch touching the filthy boot. There was something threatening in the simple gesture as the animal didn’t relax and begin to pant but rather sat at attention, mouth held shut as the dark eyes flicked around the room. This was Rami's "back-up", the animal smelled and saw more than any human wingman ever could. He also never second guessed a command from the man that now stood in the pristine doorway like a soul that had just fought their way back out of hell.

     

    To the casual observer, the tension seemed to go unnoticed by the man in the doorway. To one that knew the calling of the cavalier, they knew that they noticed all, but reacted to little. Quick round of hazel and each shadow in the room was already appraised.

     

    [npc]Just who the hell is this guy?[/npc]

     

    His gaze didn’t even acknowledge her. It had made its round and now fixated on the Deputy Director of New York as his response silenced the woman. It was ill advised to fall out of favor with a cavalier. They picked and chose whom they would accept mission directives from. The woman would find this cavalier would never darken her door if she ever called for his presence.

     

    [vacily]What is it?..... Rami, where's Caleb?[/vacily]

     

    There was a portentous haunt behind hazel eyes as the words slid his lips fairly emotionless.

     

    [rami]…dead….. and so are others. As I said. We need to talk.[/rami]

     

    Truth was the rock upon which one grew. It was not insensitivity that inspired the blunt reveal. The ominous words clearly dismissed the rest of the audience from the conversation as he patiently waited for the Deputy Director to absorb the information and invite the conversation to proceed.

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    No matter how prepared one was to receive it, the weight of death was always crushing. Vacily’s shoulders slumped, chin falling to his chest, downcast. He had known the instant he had been made aware of the cavalier’s presence — his son was dead.

    Upon hearing the news, Deputy Director Cole instinctively backed away. Whomever this ‘Caleb’ was, it was evident that he and Deputy Director Rezanov were close and this was a private matter between he and the cavalier. Most people would have taken some personal time to discuss such matters, but then Vacily wasn’t most people. He forced his shoulders back, straightened and bored his cold grey eyes into Rami’s.

    Vacily had known of his son’s assignment. He made it his business to know, to be aware of all the ‘pieces’ around him. Not to ever confuse his own flesh and blood for a pawn, he used his influence to protect the boy as best he could but Caleb proved to be as stubborn as his father. The fortitude they shared was not backed up by Vacily’s other qualities and tried as might to divert the boy’s ill-fated path there was no stopping the inevitable.

    Director Cole watched with wide eyes as Vacily turned and swung his arm to the table, bidding the Cavalier to take a seat.

    [npc]What are you —?[/npc]

    Her words were cut off by two raised fingers and a sharp glare.

    [vacily]Gentleman,[/vacily] Vacily addressed the group, [vacily]I have received some bad news but no amount of seclusion is going to change the outcome nor lessen the reality of it.[/vacily]

    He moved to his chair, standing behind it, fingers sinking into the soft leather of it’s back. [vacily]About a year ago I learned I had a son,[/vacily] He honestly admitted to the group, [vacily]Cavalier deChartres has just informed me of his death.[/vacily] The serious tones of his voice were steady and focused.

    The four officials were noticeably uneasy with the news. It was highly unorthodox but they were held to their seats by the momentous mettle of the man and the harbinger of something eerily adjoined to this tragedy.

    Vacily reached down and pressed a button on the device laying on the table before his chair. The large flat screens displayed a series of crime scene images that were all too familiar to Rami, some of which paralleled the haunting image of Caleb Lock’s death.

    [vacily]Legionnaire,[/vacily] Vacily addressed the Cavalier, [vacily]We are currently discussing the feasibility of launching a special investigation into a series of murders that many of our colleagues continue to disregard. Please inform the panel of how Cavalier Lock lost his life.[/vacily] The Deputy Director… not the father… requested.

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    The man stood silent as the Deputy Director worked to absorb the disturbing news. The woman having the decency to recognize she was not the most important person in the current conversation. Hazel watched the shoulders straighten and waited for the steely gaze to find him again.

     

    There was a reason the warrior-monk respected this man more than most in the Vanguard. The sum was more important than the one. Vacily understood this. Rami was moving even as the gesture to join them was made, the woman's protest ignored as he pulled a chair back, the filthy duffle dropped on the table beside him as he sat on the front edge of the chair, elbows on the edge of the wood as fingers clasped together and the spine stood straight, waiting for Rezanov to set the stage. Hazel watched the images flipping across the flat screens.

     

    They were missing a number of crime incidents from the last three months.

     

    [vacily] Legionnaire, We are currently discussing the feasibility of launching a special investigation into a series of murders that many of our colleagues continue to disregard. Please inform the panel of how Cavalier Lock lost his life. [/vacily]

     

    Head shook as he unzipped the filthy duffle now smudging their pristine table.

     

    [rami]With all due respect Director Rezanov, we are far beyond a special investigation any longer. We are at war, and we are losing.... [/rami]

     

    He paused as a skittish red headed trooper came to the doorway. Hand lifted faintly with a small gesture to enter and come to him, the audacity likely offended others in the room but they were too busy still trying to absorb the words he had left hanging like putrid rot in the air.

     

    Taking the prints from the kid's trembling fingers he flipped through several before nodding towards the panel that controlled the flat screens, the trooper cleared his throat as he looked around the room, nervous and yet too fascinated with being in the presence of, and assisting, a real cavalier. He obeyed, the chip from the camera slid into the side of the docking station before he murmured his excuse and vanished once more.

     

    Prints were set in front of himself as he looked up, hazel always finding the Deputy Director of New York or the flat screens as he assessed which ones were rotating through on the displays. They were missing more than they likely knew as he had not yet been back to give his reports in months.

     

    [rami]…they are not murders. They are coordinated executions.[/rami]

     

    Some might have already suspected as much but Rami had seen it for himself.

     

    [rami]Beyond what you have up there, which lacks at least nine other incidents, there are three cavaliers dead. Lock, Prisk, and Keenan….[/rami]

     

    [npc]…you are misinformed. Keenan left here five days ago on an assignment from me.[/npc]

     

    Her interruption drew cold hazel her way. The swallow was palpable down her throat though she stood her ground under his scrutiny. She was still unwilling to yield the floor to the "minion" of the Vanguard. Side of the unzipped duffle was lifted to look inside, hand still stained in dried blood and caked mud rummaging before pulling something out and tossing it across the table to land in front of her. The wallet fell with a weighted slop, saturated in blood that crackled and spattered on the table, the insignia ring clattering loudly on the wood as it rolled towards her, spinning on the edge of the table before falling on its site. Both had belonged to the former cavalier.

     

    [rami]…and I found him four days ago.[/rami]

     

    Caleb might not have been the strongest cavalier, but both Prisk and Keenan were highly respected, having been in the employ of the Vanguard for more than six years each as cavaliers. Both were altered and could hold their own so the idea that both had been taken out was alarming.

     

    [rami]…Prisk I found three weeks ago and Lock this morning. If I had to guess, I would say a roll call today of the cavaliers would find at least three more are missing.[/rami]

     

    Silence was now lingering like arsenic gas over the room. He had their full attention.

     

    [rami]… also have lost at least twenty-five other troopers and operatives that you do not show in your slides there.[/rami]

     

    The enormity of the statement began to bend the reality of the "strength" of the Vanguard. The warrior monk clearly knew far more than this morning's incident. The hazel eyes flicked to Rezanov again, clearly deferring only to the top ranking man.

     

    [rami]…would you like me to start with Lock, or three months ago when I last was in touch with headquarters?[/rami]

     

    There was far more than Caleb's death to share.

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    • 3 weeks later...

    Wisps of cigarette smoke curled in the soft glow of the display screens. Commissionaire Lacombe anxiously puffed away while the suave Chancellor Avara took the occasional pull from his sleek, sweet smelling, cigarillo.

    The Vanguard had been at war ever since the Nevus split the sky; against the Order, the New World Defence Division, any faction that stood in their way, but this was different. There had always been rules, a web of bureaucracy and morality to maintain a sense of civility. Whomever or whatever they dealing with cared nothing these established conventions. They were specifically targeting their members, hunting them down, killing them in the most heinous manner. At first they believed it was the Order. Many were inclined to point the finger toward their polar opposite. If any of their enemies were believed to be so merciless it would be the Magus but it was far too convenient a theory for Vacily. Ever forthright in his disdain for their kind, he surprisingly was on the side of reason when the evidence begin to accumulate. He had weighed the scales and found the two factions were teetering on the brink of an all-out war. A war that wouldn’t benefit either side and could most likely lead to a lengthy civil dispute that could split the nation.

    There were few organizations that could have benefitted from the Order and the Vanguard tearing one another a part but who precisely would gain from a civil war in the Alliance? The Deputy Director had his suspicions but to support those claims he would have to personally investigate this matter. During this time, he learned that the Order in New York had been suffering similar murders and naturally the blame fell upon their rivals. Only Chancellor Salvatore Avara was not convinced, unwilling to accept that the Vanguard would blatantly seek out and murder Magus. As diabolical as they were, the legionaries adhered to a code of honour and respect that prevented them from lashing out like a lowly gang of thugs. He stood apart from the hollow implications, and one night he crossed paths with an unlikely ally in the form of Vacily Rezanov.

    As a century of life approached Vacily was only just submitting to the introspective meanderings of age. He had always reflected upon his many long years but it was only recently that he ever considered retiring and such thoughts brought to mind his legacy. What had he accomplished? Would he be remembered as a good or bad person? Would he be remembered at all?

    Vacily believed in the Alliance. He believed in President Stanley. He wanted to build, to construct a solid foundation that his newly discovered son could stand firm upon and know that his father helped create the new world, not tear it down. All that was gone now but he still wanted to make a difference.

    Listening to this young Cavalier was the first step. The murders of Prisk, Keenan and his own son had caught him off guard. The other’s he mentioned were accounted for but unverified and the simple fact that Rami was aware of most of the murders earned some trust. That, and he liked the way he didn’t hesitate to correct the Washington Deputy Director of Operations, Alia Cole.

    The guy had some stones. Caleb had been wise to emulate the man.

    [vacily]Start from the beginning.[/vacily] Vacily requested, the members of the board leaning in, interested to hear the enlightening news he had to bring to their meeting. If he had any. Aside from Vacily, Chancellor Avara seemed to be the only other whom sincerely was interested in what Rami had to say. The rest, like Paul Mendez, Agent in Charge of the Special ‘Altered Investigations’ Task Force, were only feigning interest.

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    His direction given, he held out his hand for the small remote that went with the docking station, brutally stained fingers still nimble as they caught it sliding across the table, nod of thanks faint before making the first click.

     

    The very first image was stomach turning.

     

    [rami]I was originally sent out because there had been disturbing signs that we had seen a resurgence of the morteximius virus in the midwest. The first scene I came across however seemed to just be some random survivalists who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.[/rami]

     

    The second and third slides of the scene were no less disturbing than the first. Identifiable body parts set into very twisted scenes of wilderness carnage.

     

    [rami]I didn’t think this event would be of much interest as it seems very random, very amateur, the damage was violent and without any control. But you will notice some of the tell tale signs here.[/rami]

     

    Several more slides were clicked through.

     

    [rami]…the scorch marks here on the tree, the way the body parts are ripped apart. These are things I would see again later in scenes that tells me this was likely an early practice and those responsible just got better at it as they went.[/rami]

     

    Several of the "signs" he was pointing out bore a striking familiarity to some of the images they had on the screen before the Cavalier had arrived, but as he noted, the ones they were showing looked more "polished". If someone without an eye for these things had come across the camp scene and not the experienced survivalist himself, it likely would have been dismissed.

     

    The next slide was a picture of a well worn map and a red X on it. The Cavalier documented every incident with the precision of a librarian cataloguing books. The map would be a common image, shown after the images of each incident so that where he had found it was tracked, the order of the images embedded with maps keeping each incident distinct and documented.

     

    As the next image came up, the breath of one of their "guests" sucked in softly, the warrior monk's eyes barely flicking to the man before continuing. This too was a scene missing from their revolving images.

     

    [rami]This was a couple days later. You will notice it also has the same careless, amateur feel. Here however they went after a scouting party. Not one of ours…[/rami]

     

    Next slide brought up an almost unrecognizable patch from a coat, torn and spattered with blood and debris of flesh.

     

    [rami]It was Light men.[/rami]

     

    The map once more documenting the location in case the Order wished to go retrieve anything that was left of their men. Though it was doubtful they would find anything after more than two weeks, the images were alight with flies which said even Rami had come across it days after it had happened. Two more scenes of violent amateur slaughter were shared, both from Vanguard personnel. But it was the third scene to follow that caused several to lean a bit forward. The images were very different, not simply off grid killings, these images had metal cages in them, a strange building tucked in the woods that was on fire in the images. Pictures of a laboratory and books of notes.

     

    The Director of Washington frowned at the images, her head shaking a bit.

     

    [npc]….this is different from the others, look at the violence on the forms, how precise, deliberate. Sliced apart so many times as if to erase them from….[/npc]

     

    [rami]…this is my work.[/rami]

     

    She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at the man with a unique blend of respect and horror as he didn’t miss a beat and continued.

     

    [rami]We were right about the morteximius virus, but not about the manner of spread. What I came across here was some sort of lab where they were experimenting on people. Purposely infecting and keeping them in special cages.[/rami]

     

    Hand reached into the duffle and pulled out two of the thick binders that had been in the images, sliding them forward on the table.

     

    [rami]….based on their research it looks like they are trying to evolve the virus, mutate it so that the antivirals do not work and so that the resulting infected could be "trainable" as an army.[/rami]

     

    Where the images held almost a dozen binders, only two had the Cavalier not destroyed. He had judged himself what was permitted to survive, the binders containing precisely how they were mutating the virus were not among the saved binders. He trusted no one with that sort of knowledge.

     

    [rami]Those running the place were an altered and two infected with nocturnaeximius. I suggest moving forward that all Legionnaires, Troopers, and operatives are equipped with a full anti-viral kit as I came across lycaneximius infected later on.[/rami]

     

    The slide show and lessons continued as he meticulously recounted each scene. The progression to something more polished and focused became clear as did the evidence that this was all becoming execution style. The cavalier explained the deaths in detail, pieced together from the evidence he had meticulously documented. When they were still in tact, the slides bore images of the faces of those that had passed, both Vanguard and in those scenes where the Order were the only ones slain, he documented them too. Scenes that they already had documented were seen from different angles, the Cavalier having a different eye than the troops that had taken the photos they were already perusing, his showed the threads of similarities more blatently.

     

    Prisk's story had been more gruesome as he had been strong enough to make a dangerous opponent, when they finally managed to take him down, they had dismembered the Cavalier with the veracity of vultures. As the man's story was told a blood stained patch and locket he wore with a picture of his dead wife were pulled out of the bag and slid onto the table as evidence that the "parts" that were photographed really did belong to the former Cavalier.

     

    Twice more camps for z-infected experimentation were found and destroyed by the man with the same distinct deliberate precision that the Director of Washington had already noted. None of these camps were in the images that had been shared before. This was a new twist on the plot that was being discussed. Several scenes followed where the enemy had tried to get the jump on Rami and had the tables turned on them. The violence wrought in the pictures the Cavaliers own doing.

     

    By the time they reached the last slides nearly two hours later it was clear that both Vanguard and Order were being systematically slaughtered and in more and more brazen ways and closer and closer to populated areas. The last slides were pulled up with the same clinical descriptions of the scenes before them. The fact that he was describing the last moments of the Directors own son did not seem to change the way he described the evidence. What was painfully apparent was where the other two cavaliers had been alone and managed to put up a horrendous fight, leaving bodies in their wake; Lock had been taken down far easier, likely a result of his efforts to "protect" the ones he was with. There was no evidence that they had succeeded in diminishing the ranks of the enemy and the fact that they had burned the men alive showed how little the enemy had thought of their power since the other cavaliers had been burned after they had been killed.

     

    The last slide fluttered on the screen. The same map, now frayed in places and stained with a multitude of bloody fingerprints showing the precise location of where the Director's son had met his end.

     

    [rami]…there was one more incident after this but my camera was unable to store more images. I was attacked on the road here, just a three hour ride out of Washington by three altered, one of which controlled fire so I suspect this was the team that took out Lock as well as Prisk. [/rami]

     

    His bloody, soot covered disheveled appearance was finally explained as the small remote was slid away from himself, blood stained fingers entwining once more as elbows rested on the table. That the man could alone take down what two other cavaliers and several troopers could not spoke volumes of the man and his dog now sitting at the table. But more frightening that what he might be capable of, was his parting thoughts on the event.

     

    [rami]….they recognized me as Vanguard without any evidence of insignia. They also hit far too many scout parties in a short period of time. This is not a coincidence. I believe that they have an insider feeding them information.[/rami]

     

    The bomb dropped, the man finally fell silent.

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    • 4 weeks later...

    [npc]Troubling news.[/npc] Commented Mr. Bryce Lacombe the commissionaire of the Washington PD, the weight of the situation hardly making a dent in the man’s impassive expression.

    The large black man calmly filled his glass with water and took a sip while Deputy Director Cole studied deChartres’ personnel file on her tablet. [npc]It says here that you have no training in any of the sciences.[/npc] She added, [npc]You’re hardly qualified to make such assessments, Cavalier.[/npc] Speaking of course about his assumptions concerning the nocturnaeximius virus.

    The Commissionaire glanced over at Cole, offering an approving nod and it was becoming painfully obvious to both Avara and Rezanov that Rami was getting railroaded. Standard protocol would demand a review of all the required specialists on the matter and looked like Cole was playing that card, but why?

    ’Why was she stalling?’

    [vacily]Cavalier de Chartres has already laid the ground work…[/vacily] Vacily attempted to interject.

    [npc]… And he’s done an immense job. You should be commended on your efforts Cavalier but acting now is out of the question. The evidence will be reviewed by a certified panel and then we will proceed following the proper channels.[/npc] Countered Cole.

    The Washington Deputy Director had bore her teeth and they proved to be much sharper than Vacily had anticipated.

    [npc]I second the recommendation.[/npc] Lacombe’s deep voice resonated in support of an evaluation, followed by a nod from Paul Mendez, Agent in Charge of Special ‘Altered Investigations’. [npc]The Order will of course be a part of that panel.[/npc] he advised the two representing Magus.

    The Arch Magus Darius Lazar respectfully nodded in agreement while Salvatore fumed. The New York Chancellor and Rezanov could only silently protest, both restrained by the bonds of bureaucracy. Even if Vacily could have spoke out four members out of the comity’s six were in agreement.

    [npc]You may leave us now Cavalier and please don’t stray too far. Your presence will be required again before long.[/npc] Ordered Deputy Director Cole who then directed her attention to Vacily.

    [npc]Deputy Director Rezanov. I am deeply sorry for the loss of your son in this matter but that said it pains me to have to cite protocol. The death of a family member puts you too close to the situation.[/npc] She reminded him.

    ’Damn, she must have enjoyed that!’ Considered Vacily, anger heating up behind his cool grey glare.

    He wanted to give her a piece of his mind but blowing up would only work against him. Vacily had to stay calm and think. Something was going on, something even bigger than what he and Salvatore had anticipated but for now his fight was done. Cole had seen to that, she had completely out maneuvered him.

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    The indifference in the room didn’t seem to register with the emotionless hazel eyes. While Rezanov was bound by bureaucracy, the cavalier was not. The woman was to find out she might not have the sharpest teeth in the room.

     

    As she prattled on the cavalier slid the pictures into the duffle and began to look for something else within its bloody folds, hand escaping the bag as she finally fell silent.

     

    [rami]…call your panel if you want. I doubt it will lead to any actionable conclusion as this information was not meant for you.[/rami]

     

    Standing the left hand curled under the strap of the duffle, the right clenched with a prize from his sack. As with all the rest he had spoken, his tone held a calm indifference.

     

    [rami]Oh… and here…in case you need something to look at so you can feel accomplished.[/rami]

     

    Hand flicked out, the small white daggers scattering across the table with enough force that the blood that was on them flicked thick onto the woman's hand and down the front of her shirt, sending her scrambling back, her cool composure cracked. Vampire fangs, easily more than 16 of them, the roots still holding shards of bloody flesh rattled on the table until they finally lost their momentum. The "cavalier" she was degrading had single handedly taken down more than eight vampires.

     

    The duffle strap was pulled over his shoulder, cold eyes staring her down with the indifference of looking at a toad, hazel glancing at the blood she was snatching a tissue out of box to desperately wipe off.

     

    [rami]…I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Not likely infected…… right?[/rami]

     

    Her posture stiffened and instantly the feral canine stood, glassy black stare fixating on her as the animal read hostility. Bloody boot planted on the back of the chair, controlled shove pushing it back in place tucked under the table.

     

    [rami]Oh and Alia……I don’t answer to you… my presence will be where I put it.[/rami]

     

    He had officially declared the woman less than a flea on his dog as cold eyes passed over Vacily, the very faintest incline of his chin showing respect to only the one man in the room before turning his back on the group and heading towards the door, the massive canine glued to his side.

     

    [rami]….after all…..Grant needs to be debriefed.[/rami]

     

    The final insult of going over her head tossed over his shoulder as he moved to exit the room. She would likely be spitting mad but once she reached the bottom of his profile she would also see that most of his missions were classified above her security clearance. Even his own ranking was marked classified from her. He was a cavalier of unquestionable devotion and had been granted his autonomy by Grant. The director held no sway over him.

     

    [rami]…lot of activity was in your district…. do hope that informant isn't sitting amongst your ranks.[/rami]

     

    It was his exiting threat as boots hit the hallway marble, soft pad of paws beside him as he started to work his way back out of the building. The cavalier could maneuver as impressively as the woman, knowing full well such a statement would give the Order pause to look at their "host" with more suspicion.

     

    Corrupt.

     

    The thought burned a hole in the psyche. To show the face of corruption to one as devout as the bloody warrior-monk….was a mistake.

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    Her eyes cut into the monk’s back, hand angrily sweeping the teeth off the table as the insolent ‘trooper’ waltzed out the room with impunity.

    [npc]Damn relic![/npc] She growled lowly under her breath.

    Alia Cole was one of the driving forces behind the dissolving of deChartres’ ancient sect. To her and like-minded individuals the Cavaliers were an outdated liability that answered to no one but themselves. Outlaws within their own ranks!

    [npc]If he thinks he can just come in here and disrupt the chain of command like that, then he’s got another thing coming. Lacombe, Mendez.[/npc] She addressed the Commissionaire and Agent in Charge, [npc]That evidence belongs to the people as much as the Vanguard and by withholding it Cavalier de Chartres is in direct violation of the law![/npc]

    Mendez shot an apprehensive look at the Commissionaire . Neither could deny that Alia was right, but was this really a fight they wanted to make? She was number three in the chain of command, in charge only by default while the Director and Legion Commander were away. The agent wasn’t sure they wanted a war started over this, but Lacombe was quick to side with Cole.

    [npc]As soon as he sets foot on the streets I’ll have him arrested.[/npc] The Commissionaire vowed.

    Vacily just sat in silence, face buried in his hand. ’What the hell was happening?’ If she wasn’t involved Cole sure wasn’t doing a whole lot to plead her innocence. Her actions were those of blatant guilt. He had to tread softly. The Commissionaire was obviously involved, possibly Mendez as well and he couldn’t be sure about the Arch Magus of the Washington Chapter. The only other person he could trust at this table was Salvatore and the magus had absolutely no reservations of letting him know that he would put his personal interests first.

    [npc]You’re awfully quiet Deputy Director.[/npc] Cole jabbed at Vacily.

    She was trying to goad him. He was definitely the odd man out and it was times like these that the voice of reason ended up getting it’s vocal chords cut.

    [vacily]As you pointed out, I’m emotionally compromised and will be taking a leave to mourn the passing of my son, immediately.[/vacily] he replied, his expression apathetic to the abuse of authority before him.

    Alia forced a crocodile smile. He didn’t take the bate and presently could do little else to implicate the man of insubordination. The old man knew when to shut up and smile. He couldn’t help Rami from a detention cell and that’s precisely what Alia would do if given the opportunity.

    Lacombe was already making the call. Messaging Rami’s description and warning all officers to use necessary force in apprehending the wanted cavalier.

    All hell was going to break loose. Washington’s Vanguard unlike others possessed a definitive divide in it’s ranks between those who followed the traditional ways of the order and those who sided with more modern methods. Mentioning Grant had only seemed to further enrage Cole as well. She wasn’t a supporter of the devout believer in militant dictatorship. Honestly, Vacily tended to side with her there, seeing the error of his own past ways reflected in the patriarch’s actions but one didn’t want to cross swords with the woman, figuratively or literally. Alia simply didn’t seem to have the guts to pull this sort of thing off on her own and that’s what stuck most in Vacily’s mind. Someone was pulling her strings and whoever they were inspired Cole and the other heads to believe they could follow through with such extreme actions.

    Of course Vacily considered that Rami might have taken precautions but this was the day and age of doubt. People didn’t believe what they saw in anymore. Even if the truth was staring them right in the face they didn’t believe it, not without living, breathing proof standing beside it. All of Rami’s evidence wouldn’t mean a damn thing if he was dead and that’s precisely what Vacily feared they were going to do. Rami had left them little choice. Instead of biting back his pride the cavalier went for the jugular and nothing fought harder, more savagely, than a wounded animal.

    [npc]It’s done. Soon as the cavalier leaves the Legion all officers of the Washington police department have orders to bring him in.[/npc] Informed the Commissionaire.

    [npc]Thank you.[/npc] Replied Cole. [npc]Have your agents been alerted?[/npc] Alia reminded Mendez.

    He obviously had been hoping not to get involved but now the Agent in Charge of Altered Investigation had little choice but to place his agency on high alert. These were highly trained agents experienced in dealing with ‘altered individuals’, an asset Cole was counting on to get rid the problem.

    [npc]Deputy Director Rezanov.[/npc] Lacombe called out. The big commissionaire moving between him and doorway as Vacily nonchalantly left his seat.

    Lacombe grinned, hoping for the legendary Vacily Rezanov to test him. The two hundred and sixty pound man was built like a linebacker and the man’s reputation as a full contact fighter preceded him. Vacily, however, didn’t seem all that intimidated, standing his ground, hands in his pockets.

    [vacily]Can’t a guy go to the bathroom around here?[/vacily] Vacily innocently expressed.

    Lacombe stood silent, waiting for the old man to cross that line but a look from Alia would rob the giant of his one sided contest. With a shake of her head, the commissionaire reluctantly stepped aside curious why Cole would allow the man to leave.

    [vacily]Old bladder. You know how it is.[/vacily] Vacily taunted the man who was approaching middle age.

    [npc]Next time old man.[/npc] Growled Lacombe as the Deputy Director exited the room. [npc]Why let him go?[/npc] he asked.

    [npc]Give a man enough rope…[/npc] Alia answered with a sly grin.

    [disposable]Why are you so afraid of this man's investigation?[/disposable] Salvatore finally spoke up.

    The Deputy Director slowly turned to the magus as if she had been long awaiting for him to speak. [npc]Mr. Avara I’m sure you can respect the sensitivity of this case and that cavalier has little understanding of the full magnitude of the details. His reckless nature has only served to set our investigation back![/npc]

    [disposable]Seems more to me like he was making progress, far more than any you have yielded.[/disposable] Salvatore argued.

    [npc]Yes. Well, it may seem that way but I assure you that we’re more than fully aware of everything de Chartres revealed today. We have people in place who’s very lives depend on discretion, something that a rogue Cavalier has no consideration of. His actions have already caused irreparable damage.[/npc]

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    She should have declared him in "violation of the law" a little more quietly. She would come to regret it.

     

    Tongue clicked softly on the top of his mouth and instantly the hackles from the feral dog were up, the signal telling the large animal that they were in danger. The red headed soldier was at the end of the hallway, eager to catch another glimpse of his "idol". Cold hazel eyes didn’t even look at him as he walked past, the voice chilly yet that he even spoke made the younger man giddy.

     

    [rami]… you have a phone on you?[/rami]

     

    [npc]y…yes![/npc]

     

    Clumsy fingers were already digging in his pocket, nearly dropping the smart phone before handing it to the cavalier. The monk didn’t carry one himself, but he had numbers fixed to memory for those times when he needed to use one. He didn’t stop moving as he listened to the ringing through the earpiece, listening to the hello on the other side as the recipient tried to figure out who the hell was calling.

     

    [rami]Patriarch Grant. Rami. Washington district is compromised. Director Cole has gone rogue, is joining forces with the Order and has named me an enemy of the state. Suspect the leak that has led to the deaths of our Cavaliers is coming from her house.[/rami]

     

    He listened to her words as filthy boots trotted down the marble steps, the kid at his side gasping and wide eyed as he followed closely after.

     

    [rami]…understood.[/rami]

     

    Hanging up the phone he slid the screen over looking for the messages, rapidly entering a different number and beginning to type, hazel eyes not needing to watch where his feet were going. The Cavalier was very aware of his surroundings.

     

    "Vashington ob"yavil vrazhdebnogo gosudarstva . Vyvesti sebya."

    (Washington declared hostile state. Extricate self.)

     

    He knew more about the heads of Vanguard than they knew. His Russian was rusty but accurate and he knew only one man in the room could read the sent message as he hit send to Rezenov. Message was erased from the phone before he tossed it back to his "biggest fan".

     

    [npc]…is…is it true?... are we compromised?[/npc]

     

    The man simply nodded as he started to scan the lobby he was approaching. Quite a few legionnaires and troopers.

     

    [npc]…holy fuck….[/npc]

     

    The whisper escaped young lips even as he kept following the cavalier. As they reached the lobby there was a call already going to the front desk. He didn’t wait for the girl to stutter her "yes sir" to it, calm voice carrying out across the marble expanse.

     

    [rami]Washington district is compromised. Your Director has made deals against the Vanguard and declared war on the Cavaliers.[/rami]

     

    Long strides were halfway across the lobby, the men around shifting weight nervously as they looked at eachother trying to figure out what to do. Cole underestimated how ingrained the cult of the Cavaliers was among the legionnaires and troopers.

     

    A house divided against itself… cannot stand.

     

    [rami]You are asked now to declare your loyalty to the North American Division or else stand and be judged with your corrupt council. [/rami]

     

    His voice never rose above his common speech and yet it carried across the lobby where silence reigned. His feet never pausing as he approached the doors. Fan boy had stopped in the center of the lobby, the machine gun in his hand stared at as many now began to receive their orders though their ear-pieces. The Cavalier was to be taken into custody the moment he set foot outside. Guns had begun to slide off shoulders aimed at the back of the man as he stepped to the doors, dog at his side.

     

    The kid at the center of the lobby couldn’t breathe, looking at his fellow troopers before the ear-piece was pulled from its place and tossed aside, his voice a quiet growl.

     

    [npc]…I am Vanguard…. And I am loyal.[/npc]

     

    He sprinted for the door, he was going with the Cavalier.

     

    The duffle over Rami's shoulder was slid down as he exited the building, reaching inside the zipper, there was a reason the large sack was always with him as weapons were plucked from its depth. There was advantages to his high security clearance. He had toys even other Cavalier were not given let alone out in these district backwaters. Turning the small silver discs were hurled one after another to the second story windows where they clung to the glass, small red light blinking on their surfaces before he pressed the side of his watch and they began to erupt, land mines the size of half a grenade blowing out the windows and often collapsing the ceilings of the rooms within. Fire beginning to scorch quickly the interior carpets and walls, racing across the floor to impede the escape of those on the higher floors.

     

    In the lobby, chaos was also ensuing. Nearly sixty percent of the men were discarding their own earpieces and following the young red-head's declaration of loyalty but the others had also rallied and gunshots were beginning to explode just seconds before the grenades went off. Shouting began to roar out of the lobby as the second floor was rapidly being cut off from below.

     

    Bodies were streaming out the front doors to follow the Cavalier, those declaring their loyalty made it out first but those that felt following the Director's orders was loyalty were right on their heels. The gun battle began. Those that made it past the bullets finding the Cavalier could move like a reed in the wind, contorting his body around their attacks to land intimately the dagger in their hearts and throats, earning even greater awe from those that sought to be at his side. One of the flaws of the Washington district was it relied heavily on unaltered troops, mundanes that found fighting a man that was not only a cold blooded killer for god, but altered as well too much for their weapons and combat skills.

     

    [rami]Any vehicle you are not driving yourself to New York, blow up.[/rami]

     

    His voice was inhumanly calm, even in the midst of the chaos, and his followers heard and were quick to act. Sprinting for vehicles as they shot at the "enemy" trying to take out the Cavalier. He was already skidding over the hoods of several of the gunmetal security vehicles at the side of the building, the last of his land mine grenades sliding off his fingers as he did to blink ominously on the hoods. In the fray the soldiers learned quickly that the feral canine could tell friend from foe. More than one throat was torn from a body before the shrill whistle told him it was time to get to the bike. Sprinting towards his bike, the duffle scooped off the ground as he turned to level his XVR 460 Magnum at those that had chosen the wrong side. More than one gasp was heard as they recognized the high velocity revolver would likely move faster than they could avoid. Five shots were kicked off in quick succession, five men fell like dead weight to the stairs of the burning building.

     

    Cars were firing up as he sat on the bike and kicked it to life, the tire squealing before catching traction and speeding forward, Enoch springing from the pavement to land deftly on the back as the man set off the second round of grenades. One after another the vehicles exploded, flipping end over end against eachother as the ones that had been "stolen" by the loyal peeled out to follow the bike. An ominous caravan now heading through the streets of Washington daring any to take on the challenge of "arresting" the Cavalier.

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    Vacily’s quick pace broke into strides as he hastened after the Cavalier. The first thing he’d do was warn his superior. Who was that? Many of them answered directly to the Patriarch herself.

    ’Shit!’

    Grant was borderline psychotic! She held the Cavaliers in such high esteem that she took their word as gospel. The Patriarch wouldn’t care about the details, it would be all out war against an uncertain enemy… legionnaire against legionnaire. He had to stop him. Cole and the others could have just as well been acting on the best interests of the city. Perhaps the only thing the Deputy Director was guilty of was her hatred of the Cavaliers. It was difficult to know for sure and if Rami was about to do what he suspected it would be too late.

    Vacily paused as he felt the vibration of his phone and his heart sank even before he looked at the screen.

    There it was.

    Too late.

    By the time Vacily reached the lobby the shooting had begun. How quickly they chose their sides but it had been a long time coming. Cole and people like her had been planting the seed of dissension in the ranks for some time now. The disapproval of the Patriarch’s devotion to the old ways was no secret and Grant had probably been itching for an excuse to toss a match in the powder keg. Fire in the form of a self righteous man with a cause.

    [vacily]R—![/vacily] The man’s name barely escaped his lips as Vacily found himself under fire.

    The wall behind him erupted with bullet holes. Exploding dry wall rained down as he dove for cover behind the wall of an adjacent hallway to the lobby. Blood sprayed across Vacily’s face as he slid across the highly polished floor behind the safety of a reinforced wall. There he checked his body for wounds but would quickly learn that the blood wasn’t his.

    [vacily]Dammit Rami![/vacily] He cursed, the words drowned by gunfire and explosions.

    The ex-soldier instinctively reached for his sidearm but stayed his hand. The last thing he wanted to do was take the life of an innocent legionnaire. They didn’t even know what the hell they risking their lives for!

    As the fighting moved outside, Vacily followed, cautiously running to the doors and pausing to check if it was clear. He inched open the door and found himself flying backwards through the air as car exploded right in front of him. His arms flew up in front of his face, flesh protected from the flying shards of glass by his gunmetal grey coloured leather jacket. More followed, a domino effect of exploding cars in the wake of the Cavalier and his army’s departure.

    When it was all over, Vacily peered through the smoke to see an approaching Alia Cole, weapon drawn, eye’s wide. Commissionaire Lacombe and Mendez were with her, equally surprised by the destruction.

    [vacily]Proud of yourself.[/vacily] Spat Vacily, coughing, gesturing at the bodies on the floor as he slowly rose to his feet, [vacily]You did this![/vacily] he accused, [vacily]You all did![/vacily]

    [npc]We didn’t expect this.[/npc] Gasped Cole.

    [vacily]What the hell did you expect? That’d he’d just go quietly. He’s a goddam Cavalier for Christ’s sake![/vacily]

    Mendez and Lacombe accompanied a team of legionnaires outside while Cole stayed behind to help Vacily out of the burning building. [npc]I really didn’t want this.[/npc] she explained, her tone bordering on an apology.

    [vacily]We’re a little beyond ‘wants’.[/vacily]

    Cole nodded. Now that the Patriarch had joined the fray she was beginning to have second thoughts on the whole matter. Holstering her gun was a step in the right direction but Vacily honestly still didn’t know whether or not she was guilty of treason. Right now all he cared about was avoiding any more blood shed.

    [vacily]Commissionaire Lacombe.[/vacily] He called, the big man lowering his weapon and slowly turning to face him.

    [vacily]You can stop this. Call off the arrest warrant.[/vacily]

    [npc]And just let him go?[/npc]

    [vacily]Yeah. Do you really want a street war between Vanguard and Police in Washington?[/vacily]

    They really hadn’t thought this through, it was evident. Lacombe looked to Cole for guidance but she had no wisdom to impart.

    [vacily]Let him walk.[/vacily] Vacily repeated. This was the test. Could they actually let Rami leave the city and trust in the truth?

    [npc]The man broke the law.[/npc]

    [vacily]Our law.[/vacily] Vacily corrected.

    [npc]So now our laws are different?[/npc] Lacombe argued, [npc]You see there’s the real problem. There’s what’s dividing our nation. You’re not above the law! And neither is he.[/npc]

    There wasn’t anything else to say after that. Vacily could only shake his head in disgust before he turned to leave.

    [npc]Where are you going?[/npc] Questioned Cole.

    [vacily]To get to the bottom of this.[/vacily] Vacily answered in earnest.

    He left her to wallow in her mess. If she had wanted to stop him she’d lost her window of opportunity and so Vacily ran off to locate his car and give chase. He wasn’t sure what he could do but he sure as hell wasn’t about to stand idly by and watch while his people and the police killed one another.

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    As he wove through the streets he glanced into his side mirror. He had ten Vanguard vehicles with him with easily more than 20 legionnaires and troopers. More than enough to look like a military escort. There was only two outcomes he could postulate. They ended up in a street slaughter with the security forces of Washington. Or, they convinced the security forces that the Cavalier was already under arrest and was being escorted to New York. He decelerated until the first Vanguard car caught up beside him, the window rolling down. The Cavalier was not surprised to see the red head. Over eager creature.

     

    [rami]… need three Vanguard cars in front, one on either side of me and the rest behind.[/rami]

     

    Hazel pulled from the road they were moving down to see the puzzled expression. It was all he could do not to roll his eyes.

     

    [rami]Security forces have been told to arrest me as well. If you want to be in an all out street war then please, let us continue as we are. My assumption is they have not yet been communicated to that part of the Vanguard has split away. Vanguard would take primary authority if they already have the prisoner in custody and are escorting him to New York headquarters.[/rami]

     

    Light bulb clearly went off as the kid snatched the cb in his dash and began relaying the message to the rest of the cars who immediately started to play tetris around the Cavalier. There was one thing that could be said about Vanguard troops, they were highly trained, highly skilled and understood military protocols. The three in front were so close together they could touch at any moment, the ones beside him pulling in behind the outer cars leaving him with just a single width and length of a Vanguard vehicle to drive in as machine guns slid out of the side windows to point at him. He hadn't mentioned that, but it was a nice touch as the last five cars boxed him in from behind, all lights flicking on to demonstrate they were on duty and to clear the streets as they came through blocking the entire road with their escort.

     

    The streets were clearing before them but thus far it had been all civilian vehicles. It had taken several miles but the Washington security finally caught up with them. A road block formed that forced the entire caravan to stop. For all his bumbling, Rami had to give kudos to the red head who got out of his car and strode with a confidence he was sure the man did not feel to talk with the local law enforcement. Several of the Vanguard had exited their cars on the side opposite from where they "trapped" the Cavalier, their guns all aimed at him. Again, a nice touch.

     

    Bloody and head lowered, the Cavalier looked the part of injured and defeated, though hazel eyes looked through thick lashes to watch every move made by the blockade. He was still counting on the fact that the chaos at the Vanguard offices kept good communication out to the law enforcement delayed. If they were updated too soon this didn’t have a shot in hell.

     

    It took several minutes but finally the cars began to pull out of their way, carrottop got back in his car and with the guns still trained on him, the Vanguard caravan passed through Washington without incident. They would have a very small window of lead time. The minute they were on 95, his hand went up and circled rapidly, instantly all vehicles lurched forward and they were heading down the open road at close to 100mph. They needed to be out of Washington's territory before the law enforcement understood their mistake.

     

    He waited until they were a good two hours outside of Washington on the deserted road before raising his open hand and then clenching it to a fist, all the cars slowing down to come to a stop. The previously commandeered smart phone was taken again.

     

    He quickly called Grant to let her know the loyals would be coming to the NY office and that he would follow shortly before sliding the phone to the messages again.

     

    Vstretit'. N Greeley mogila na kladbishche Greenwood .

    (Meet. N Greeley tomb at Greenwood cemetery.)

     

    Phone was tossed back to the red head after deleting the message once more.

     

    [npc]…are you sure it is a good idea to split up?[/npc]

     

    Brow quirked upward at the kid. There was a reason Cavalier worked alone.

     

    [rami]Head in to the New York office. They are expecting you. I suspect everyone will be questioned to ensure loyalties are intact as this is a grievous violation.[/rami]

     

    The nod was a bit timid but then came stronger. It was protocol after all. As the Vanguard fleet pulled out, the Cavalier slid off his bike, Enoch hopping down to stretch as he put the duffle back together in proper order before tying it down on the back of the bike, shoulder flexing to loosen it up after carrying the weight awkwardly on the bike.

     

    As Enoch came back from a healthy bladder release he tipped his head toward the back, the canine hopping up to spin around and flop down on the duffle as he fired the engine up once more.

     

    The Cavalier made the cemetery in a little over half an hour. It wasn’t far from the offices and yet rarely were there people in the area. It was a relic that no one maintained anymore which was fine with the monk as he parked the bike deep in the overgrowth and with duffle on his shoulder and Enoch trotting on ahead he wound his way through to the monument tomb of Horace Greeley. It had once sat alone in the manicured circle of grass with a walkway around it, now the vines had tried to claim the area as the duffle dropped at the base, a packet pulled from its midst and laid on top as the man hopped up to perch on the ledge below the bust, feet pressed against the column while he drew out a set of beads and began to let them move between his fingers.

     

    He came often here when he was in New York. More than a few of the tombs and headstones had hidden symbols carved in their designs. The mark of the Masons could be found here, as could the eye and pyramid. There was even two that buried deep in their carvings could be found, the Templar cross.

     

    He was waiting for Vacily.

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    The blazing crimson cross of the Vanguard was sharply defined against the jeep’s gunmetal grey door. On it’s roof the signature emerald green lights blazing, distinct siren parting the traffic.

    Cruising down the highway Vacily’s jaw clenched, fingers dug into the black leather steering wheel as he listened to the fiasco over the radio. He and the Cavalier were going to have some words over this lone cowboy bullshit! Already the repercussions of the event were hitting the news and it was pretty. The Commissionaire was preparing to make a formal statement over the matter and Vacily sure as shit bet it wasn’t going to paint a pretty picture of the Vanguard.

    He checked his phone and frustratedly tossed it back onto the passenger seat. Still no word.

    He took the next exit that would take him north and turned off his siren and lights. They had at least twenty minutes on him and Vacily wasn't expecting to catch up with them now until Baltimore.

    Baltimore. That’s where Caleb had grown up. He was going to show him around this summer, reveal all his old haunts, well, most of them. He’d seen pictures of him as a kid but they were all out of context, images of a stranger. A ghost.

    The phone’s screen jumped to life and Samuel Barber’s ‘Adagio for Strings’ resounded. As he read the text it became instantly apparent that the ‘lone wolf’ had split off from the pack. Good thing for him. Four gunmetal grey coloured helicopters screamed over him, two Pave Hawks flanked by two Comanches. They were north bound on an intercept course for the Vanguard caravan. Mendez’s men, ex-special forces turned agent, their talents now used to round-up those with enhanced abilities. They were gunning for Rami, but his legionnaire loyalists would end up being the target.

    Vacily couldn’t say just how relentless the team of assassins were. If the opportunity presented itself they’d strike, of that he was certain. He’d met Mendez on a few occasions, a man passionate in his convictions. Put to the task, he always got the job done.

    There was nothing that could be done for those legionnaire’s now. They had made their choice and Vacily could only wish them god-speed to New York and safety. All he could do now was honour their sacrifice by exposing all who had died at the hands of this new enemy. Above all, he would avenge his son. Everyone and everything associated with his murder would burn.

    Vacily arrived at the cemetery a good two hours after Rami. He had to drive around a little before he found the entrance. Overgrown and unkept the wrought iron gate was obscured by bright foliage. Through it, he followed a narrow paved road slowly being reclaimed by nature. Low hanging boughs and underbrush scraped against the sides of the jeep as Vacily navigated the winding paths, searching for ‘Greeley’s Tomb’. Autumn hues of gold, crimson and olive shone in the low hanging sun, the ember glow of the setting sun sifting through the tombstones. There was a kind of mesmerizing tranquility to cemeteries, Vacily almost felt at peace and then the news aired over the radio.

    The Washington incident was being beaten to death by the media. It’s what they did. Commissionaire Lacombe had made his statement and painted a dark picture of the Vanguard’s order of Cavaliers, among other bullshit stories. He’d already heard it all before and shut it off. When he first tuned in to the broadcast he might have been inclined to agree with Lacombe on a few points. The drive gave him time to mull things over, see things from Rami’s point of view. At first it only made him want to throttle the guy even more but as the pavement rolled on he slowly came terms with the cavalier’s rash actions. Actions that a younger version of himself would have made. The old pot calling the kettle black sort of thing, or so the English expression went. Vacily was simply tired of trying to figure it all out with so few pieces of the puzzle at hand. He further realized that his pent up vengeance for his son’s murder had lashed out at the closest target. Misdirected his rage toward Rami would afford him nothing. All that really mattered right now was finding these bastards and nailing them to the cross.

    Headlights cut through a darkened corridor of evergreen trees, their shadowy hands scraping along the jeep’s roof. At the end of the road was a turnabout and a large tomb, far more grand than the others he already checked. This had to be it.

    Vacily parked and turned off the engine. He stepped out of the vehicle, closing the door behind him and strolled toward the gothic crypt. There was the name as big as life.

    [vacily]Rami?[/vacily] He called out.

    Vacily couldn’t see the man yet but he knew he was there, he could taste the metal of the man’s weapons.

    [vacily]Sorry I’m late. Had to stop and disable the jeep’s GPS tracking system. Son’s a bitches keep on moving the shit around. Heard you got away none the worse for wear.[/vacily]

    Vacily’s ears were still ringing from the car bomb, fine scratches from flying glass scored his face and he could still taste the smoke.

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    Meditation was the most powerful of drugs. The last two hours had slipped away like the flutter of a butterfly's wing as the beads endlessly cycled through his calloused fingertips. Yet for the warrior monk, deep meditation did not mean unawareness. Brow made a faint flicker as he heard the vehicle come through the gates. Best that the director brought it deep into the cemetery to ensure it was not visible from to the outside world.

     

    The Cavalier had not moved from his perch on the monument, brows scowling deeper as he heard the radio in the man's car. Cemeteries were places for quiet, it was why he sought them out in all cities he crossed paths with. He caught the last of the war mongering from the Commissionaire. He was sure that in New York the story was different, the media was likely vomiting the Vanguard version, where a rogue division declared war on all protectors of humankind and the New York division promised to not only hunt them down, but ally with other forces in New York to protect the people.

     

    It was rhetoric that he knew well and put little stock in either side.

     

    [vacily]Rami?[/vacily]

     

    [rami]… you are far too loud for this audience Director.[/rami]

     

    Quiet words carried easily among the dead. Hazel eyes opened to look down at the man, his relaxed perch unchanged.

     

    [vacily] Sorry I’m late. Had to stop and disable the jeep’s GPS tracking system. Son’s a bitches keep on moving the shit around. Heard you got away none the worse for wear.[/vacily]

     

    [rami]…that is why my vehicle is unregistered within the Vanguard.[/rami]

     

    No one got close to the bike, and when it was left alone for any length of time he recovered it by going over the thing with a fine tooth comb. His eyes were accustomed to the dark, unsure if Vacily saw as well, he hopped down from the monument ledge, bending down to retrieve the large heavy envelope nestled on top of his duffle that was fingerprinted in blood. He held it out to Vacily without a word. The contents were for the Director and no one else which was why he had not shared them in Washington. The contents held Caleb's ring, his Vanguard Cavalier patch from his jacket, a necklace he had been wearing with a Saint Christopher medal that had failed to protect him, his small leather diary book that held his personal notes on what he had found in the short time he had been investigating and the youth's gun and holster. All were still stained in his blood.

     

    Back leaned against the monument base, boot resting on the bottom ledge as a faint rustle in the bushes betrayed Enoch nearby. The feral animal had not bothered to take an aggressive stance as he didn’t sense hostility from the man that had "found" them. Instead he came trotting over and nuzzled at the outer pocket of the duffle and sat, looking up at the Cavalier with an almost puppy expression. Crouching he opened the zipper on the pocket and let the dog pull the jerky they had cured on the road out for himself. He couldn’t begrudge the animal, they hadn't eaten in almost twenty four hours now.

     

    Standing the casual posture against the monument returned as he didn’t address the items that the Director had in his hands.

     

    [rami]You might have noticed, I already knew that Washington was linked to both the Order and Vanguard deaths.[/rami]

     

    The Director was a smart man, the revelation would confirm the debriefing the Cavalier had given in Washington was only really meant for Vacily and not the others and likely had omitted some pertinent information.

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    ’Too loud?’ Vacily’s brow furrowed as he dispassionately surveyed his surroundings. He didn’t have time for this ’mystical’ bullshit. Opening his ornate cigarette case, he flicked a sleek, black coloured Sobranie in his mouth and lit it, stern features of equal intensity aglow.

    ’Unregistered vehicle?’, [vacily]Well no shit. Never thought of that.[/vacily] he grumbled. A man in his position didn’t always have the luxury of utilizing private transportation. The Vanguard kept tabs on everyone, with the exception of the cavaliers. They alone seemed exempt by the order of their somewhat unbalanced patriarch. It was that solitary gunslinger persona that had attracted Caleb to the order of cavaliers.

    Approaching the monument he studied the hierophant and his loyal beast. Whether they were four legged or two, Vacily never trusted animals, especially the kind that didn’t now fear. That was Rami, the proverbial ‘lone wolf’, beholding to none but his God. Were they really so bound by their convictions? Vacily didn’t really know, had his doubts, but for the most part Rami seemed legit.

    When he presented him with the blood stained package the old man’s features turned sallow. His fingers pressing into the holstered sidearm within the paper parcel Vacily knew what it contained. He wasn’t ready to look upon those detached items, the time for mourning would come but right now he needed his rage.

    Tucking the package under his arm he extended the cavalier a grateful nod.

    [vacily]There’s a leak in Washington.[/vacily] Vacily agreed, [vacily]But they’re also gunning for your kind. In case you haven’t noticed, cavaliers aren’t all that popular in certain circles. There are those, like Cole, that’d like nothing better than to shut down your order and that fiasco of an exit of yours just fuelled the fire.[/vacily]

    The old man grit his teeth, choking down his anger. He owed the man for the care of his son’s personal effects and perhaps for even stirring up the hornet’s nest but there were rules of engagement that needed to be followed.

    [vacily]Dammit![/vacily] He growled under his breath before steely grey eyes met the cavalier’s. [vacily]Rami, you can’t go off all half-cocked like that. Something stinks in Washington but it’s not so black and white.[/vacily]

    Vacily took a long drag on his cigarette and blew out a stream of smoke, silvery in the low light, before frustratedly wiping a hand across his face. Putting his back against the cold stone he looked up to the night sky as if searching for the answers but the old men held no stock in such things.

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    The sarcastic retort on unregistered vehicles was ignored as the hazel eyes instead watched the man light the cigarette with a faint quirk of the brow. A slave to the temple that was his own body he had never understood the voluntary act of putting such a poison in one's own system.

     

    The packet exchanged hands and it did not seem to surprise him that the older man did not bother to open it. The flicker of pale across his features said well enough that he knew what it contained. Rami felt no need to "comfort" him, the man would grieve in his own way. For now there was anger to cling to, something that sizzled off the Russian without apology.

     

    [vacily] There’s a leak in Washington. But they’re also gunning for your kind. In case you haven’t noticed, cavaliers aren’t all that popular in certain circles. There are those, like Cole, that’d like nothing better than to shut down your order and that fiasco of an exit of yours just fuelled the fire [/vacily]

     

    Brow flicked upward, patiently waiting for the man to finish as he knew the tirade was not yet over.

     

    [vacily] Dammit! Rami, you can’t go off all half-cocked like that. Something stinks in Washington but it’s not so black and white." [/vacily]

     

    Hazel were icily still as they met the grey. Beads were caressed through his fingers before tucking them away finally in his pocket. Soft words carrying in the still of the graveyard.

     

    [rami]… you have not known me long Director. But I think you have known me long enough to know, I do not do anything half-cocked.[/rami]

     

    Hazel slid from the man to the feral canine that was trying to shove his nose through the bag at whatever other treat might be hidden inside. Air gently sucked through front teeth to squeak ever so softly, instantly the massive animal was called off his prize and trotted into the dark.

     

    [rami]With emotions running high there is a decided lack of attention to any plan of attack making them less, not more of a threat. Anger breeds carelessness. You should be watchful of this as well, Vacily.[/rami]

     

    It was rare the Cavalier ever used anyone's first name which meant he was demanding a deeper level of attention from the Director.

     

    [rami] The Order is now also aware that someone among the Vanguard has been targeting their people which will breed further dissention and begin to flush the rats out into the open if one is patient enough to wait for them.[/rami]

     

    Moving to the marble wall, his shoulders rested against the cold stone near the man whose anger still lit against the Cavalier's calm aura.

     

    [rami]Tell me, have you never considered that there are two types of Cavaliers. There are the Locks, Prisks, Keenans, Firths, Jacobs, Thomas', Welns, Adians. Then there are Horace, Michaels and myself.[/rami]

     

    Silence lingered to let his point sink in. People always lumped the Cavalier together but there were those that worked hard to be the epitome of what a Cavalier was "meant" to be. Then there were the other three. True enigmas. Their names were never put together because they never seemed to cross paths, each dedicated to a different region of the world. But now that it was said aloud it shed a glaring light on the difference.

     

    [rami]It would be a mistake to assume the latter ones work for the Vanguard.[/rami]

     

    Hazel sought the same sky as the Director yet likely what he saw there was very different.

     

    [rami]….as I believe you have already suspected, there is an evil that far surpasses any shadow of the Order or Vanguard that is growing, therefore it is better to let them chase their tails and stay out of the way.[/rami]

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    ’… watchful of this as well…’ Cigarette dangling, the twinge of a sardonic smile curled Vacily’s lips. [vacily]So you’re my priest now? I’m a little beyond absolution father.[/vacily] he mocked, but the cavalier wasn’t done. His cool demeanour unfettered by the restraints of anger he warned of, continued to ‘educate’ the director, while Vacily believed he already possessed the answers. He and Salvatore Avara had been collaborating for some time, putting aside their differences to focus on a common enemy. It seemed, however, that the cavalier had brought to light their worst fear. One that both he and the Chancellor foolishly believed an impossibility within their devout factions.

     

    [vacily]Traitors among us.[/vacily] he spat, eyes falling to the ground.

     

    Dissension had always existed within the Vanguard and the Order. Vacily never pretended to believe either faction devoid of betrayal for personal gain but this meant that this hidden enemy was influencing members to usurp the entire organization. Killing them from within, while picking off those that threatened to expose them, perhaps disguising the executions as serial murders.

     

    He recounted the names recited. With the exception of his son’s they could have just the same been a Welsh basketball team. As for the allusion of the other ‘three’, the mysteries of the cavalier order were lost on Vacily. ‘If they, or Rami, didn’t work for the Vanguard, then who? Shit. Santa Claus? The Easter Bunny?’ It was so hard to stay focused.

     

    [vacily] All I know is that there are two types of Vanguard. Guys like me and those immersed in all the masonic lore. Caleb wanted to be the latter.[/vacily] he cracked a smile as glistening grey eyes gazed into memory, [vacily]I think he was disappointed to learn that he wasn’t the descendant of ‘old stock’. Not even close. According him, I, and people like me were the ‘evil’ within the faction.[/vacily] He shrugged his shoulders, [vacily]Maybe he was right.[/vacily]

     

    Vacily took a long last drag of his cigarette, dropped it to the stone and crushed the golden filtered butt under foot. [vacily]Right now, I could really give two shits about the Vanguard or the Order. I believe Caleb was killed for something he knew. It’s a theory Salvatore and I were working on. I need to get to where he was killed.[/vacily] he activated a map application on his mobile device and handed it to Rami. [vacily]Just enter the coordinates and I’ll do the rest.[/vacily]

     

    Vengeance was a personal thing. The risk was his own.

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    [vacily]So you're my priest now? I'm a little beyond absolution father.[/vacily]

     

    Soft rumble murmured in his chest, it was a rare sound but the chuckle drew a faint upturn to calm lips.

     

    [rami]…don’t mistake devout for holy. I am far from sainthood Director.[/rami]

     

    He was a warrior of the Saints, but no Saint. The traitors among the Vanguard seemed to strike a powerful cord with Vacily. Brow quirked at the venom, surprised that he hadn't already figured that out. The Cavalier gave Rezanov credit for being smarter than the average Vanguard. But perhaps the traitors really had hidden well until now. For the warrior-monk they had been far too transparent.

     

    [vacily]…. I think he was disappointed to learn that he wasn’t the descendant of ‘old stock’. Not even close. According him, I, and people like me were the ‘evil’ within the faction. Maybe he was right.[/vacily]

     

    Head shook as he glanced into bushes that rustled, a nose pushing out of the leaves as Enoch searched for some elusive lizard or spider.

     

    [rami]… while your heritage was never known for walking an overly enlightened path, I do not think you are what is wrong with the faction. If I had, I would not have gone to Washington to talk with you.[/rami]

     

    It was becoming more and more apparent that the Cavalier had known the NY Director was in Washington. Everything Rami did was with purpose. The explosive rip across the Vanguard that he had started was with purpose, but so was the fact that he stood here, now, with the Russian.

     

    [vacily] Right now, I could really give two shits about the Vanguard or the Order. I believe Caleb was killed for something he knew. It’s a theory Salvatore and I were working on. I need to get to where he was killed. Just enter the coordinates and I’ll do the rest.[/vacily]

     

    Head shook as the phone was handed back to the man untouched.

     

    [rami]….or for something they thought he knew. Going there half-cocked will not bring him back, nor satisfy your revenge as even if the ones that actually killed him fall at your hand, they are not the puppetmaster, merely the puppets. Things are not black and white. [/rami]

     

    Hazel side glanced to the older man, brow quirking faintly having twisted the man's own words back on him.

     

    [rami]…I believe you already know this.[/rami]

     

    Hazel fell to his hands, fingers idly playing with the weathered leather braided cord that encircled his left wrist. The expression thoughtful before continuing.

     

    [rami]…need you to keep your head and be the New York Director. Need a man on the inside that I can trust as I work to flush out the master. Need you to condemn Washington and keep them all chasing their tails while we work to find the truth. Need you to strut in there and fire up Grant today. You show up days later after looking for your son's killer and they will doubt your loyalty.[/rami]

     

    Hand lifted to rub the back of his neck, stretching his shoulders as he continued.

     

    [rami]…after you get that all squared you let them know you are going to Augusta Legion in the morning. There are two Cavaliers there you want to talk to personally to ensure they can spread the word of the divide among the Vanguard to the other Cavaliers and that they are being hunted. In truth you will head out and meet me in Winchester, Virginia.[/rami]

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    If there was one thing Vacily didn’t like, it was his own words being used against him. There was a smugness about Rami that set the Director’s blood on fire. As he continued to lecture the former Colonel, he rose like a storm, dark and powerful before the cavalier. Droplets of sweat streamed from his temples, teeth grit, grey eyes flashed unnaturally with static bursts as rage was repressed. He wanted blood, and he wanted it, ‘Now!’, but despite it all the man’s counsel was infuriatingly sound. It was a game the old man knew well, had been playing since before the cavalier was a glint in his father’s eye. A game that had taken the life of his wife and daughter all those years ago, his beautiful girl… and now all these many years later, his son! Just when he was done with all the cloak and dagger the cavalier up and threw the shroud over him again. He wanted him to work the system from within, while he pulled the strings.

    Bubbling anger came to a head as Vacily’s fist drove hard into the side of his thigh. The pulse of it reverberating down his leg, deep into the concrete foundation of the monument. The rebar groaned as unstable electromagnetic waves tugged on them — twisted them.

    [vacily]You seem to know a hell of a lot.[/vacily] Vacily growled. He didn’t like ‘answer men’ either, nor being ‘manipulated’. A person might as a well sign their own death warrant if ever that turned out to be the case.

    Hairline cracks spidered through the concrete as a powerful force began to act on all the ferromagnetic metals around the man. Minute bolts of electricity licked through the darkness, flowing from his body to the ground.

    [vacily]What I ‘NEED TO DO’ is avenge my son.[/vacily] He reminded the man, eyes flicking momentarily to the dog which would be dead in a heartbeat if it moved toward him. Then just as fast as the tempest was born it subsided. Eyelids fell closed as a long calming breath filled his lungs and slowly streamed out through pursed lips. He did this several times and with each breath the static in the air dissipated.

    Vacily shifted his weight and stepped off the paved foundation, moving toward the jeep with defiant purpose. [vacily]We’ll do it your way. It’ll mean war. Hope that’s what you got in mind, ‘cause that’s what your gonna get.[/vacily]

    ’Winchester.’ That’s where he’d figured the cemetery was. A threat danced on the tip of Vacily’s tongue but he saved it. His actions had spoken louder than any words of what he’d do to the man if he anyway betrayed him; if in any way he found himself dangling on a hook. Vacily had fallen pray to noble intention before and if history repeated itself the cavalier would experience first hand the penance of a paladin in hell.

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    Quiet hazel watched the inferno build. The Cavalier had too often seen the pull of revenge destroy men. The Director was teetering on destruction. An aggressive response from the warrior-monk would crumble the thin respect between them. Fortunately the calm that infuriated his enemies was part of his very core being so he let the display of aggression go unanswered.

    [vacily]You seem to know a hell of a lot.[/vacily]

    At the growl in his voice, a feral nose pushed through leaves, dark eyes hauntingly narrowed. It was eerie the way the man with his back to the bush sensed it, lips parting just enough to push a soft thread of air through his teeth. The ears perked back up before the head vanished once more in search of his lizard prize.

    As the static built around them, the Cavalier remained still, thumb still pushing the worn leather braid around and around on his wrist as he listened to the venom spill from the well of pain. Hands fall away from each other to slide inside his jean pockets as the older man finally closed his eyes and worked to find his calm. Quiet rustle of wind in the trees supplanted the crackle of static and stone. As the older man seemed determined to play the obstinate child and walk off to his jeep the Cavalier leaned over and pulled the duffle up over his shoulder.

    [vacily] We’ll do it your way. It’ll mean war. Hope that’s what you got in mind, ‘cause that’s what your gonna get. [/vacily]

    Weight of the strap was adjusted on his shoulder as a gentle cluck set big paws padding off in the direction of the hidden bike. Barrel chest filled with air before gently exhaling through his nostrils, thoughtful hazel watching the man that struggled with his loss whether he was going to acknowledge it or not. Words were stripped, naked honesty.

    [rami]Vacily….right about now you are angry thinking I am arrogant or condescending. I am being neither with you. The truth is I am laying out the plan that you yourself would have set in motion had it not been your son. I know a "hell of a lot" because I observe. I learn from those that know what they are doing. I learned such a strategy from watching those skilled in strategy such as yourself work the shadows to seek a greater end through the means.[/rami]

    Turning he headed for his bike before pausing and glancing back over his shoulder.

    [rami]…I am sorry for your loss.[/rami]

    With that he headed around the monument to join his feral companion at the bike. He had no doubt that the Director would meet him tomorrow in Winchester.

     

    CONTINUED TO: DEADFALL

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