torsdag 5. april 2018

VtM:B - a story. A plane ride.

We hitch a ride on a plane from Smila Grimsson, the Prince of Iceland. I'm certain that beyond a doubt that this is to our shared bloodline, and that any other operative stuck in Russia would not experience the same curtsy.

Rhys is displeased with me, despite the mission being a success. At one time, he even arrived at my seat, sitting next to me, looking rather neutral as he casually ordered everybody out of my section of the plane. I should not fault him for doing his job. In the most English of manner he then leans forward and lower his voice, making his words for me alone.

"If you ever endanger the mission once more, I will kill you."

I neglect any form of response, as m
y thoughts are circulating our fugitive, 

Lev Parlov, our contact over the last months sits in the back, cuffed and gagged. I can smell the dark and beautiful man from my seat, and his curse of Diablerie: his black aura seems to be affecting even those close to him, be they Kine or Kindred. A master stroke, playing the underhand supplicant until he was secure in my team and my convictions - having lowered his generation by two, Prince Nikolai would offer no small a reward for his ashes. Alas, he was my mission and objective.

What I am curious about is how he was able to hide the fact until he was ready to defect.

The voice of Rhys brings be back to the present.

"You're not listening, Ravna."

I turn to him, my eyes glaring.

"You know what? I wasn't. Want to know why? Because I'm busy trying to determine the future of this region, an how I'm going to pay back Prince Nikolai for his services. Now, unless you plan to end me right here, right now, get back to your station and keep an eye on Lev for me. Can you do that, BODYGUARD?"

I mock him with intent, trying to rise his fury. Having stayed in the game this long, I know that he would adhere to his duty, even if that made it far worse for me in the long run. And I am his assigned commander for this mission until we touch ground in Denmark.

Rhys looks at me. I meet his gaze, unafraid.

"You're lucky the Prince finds you useful."

And with that, he leaves me be, sitting with my thoughts and plans.

1 kommentar:

Peter willet sa...

Oh dear such flaring tempers and tenseness.