"Tiny, I've got you covered, get that head out here, we've got to get it to the right people."

Bishop waits not too far off, ready to cover Tiny if he is spoted.

Edana quails, gasping involuntarily at the thought of losing her magic. Without thought her vision shifts into her second sight and back. As the reassuring flicker of Astral sight vanishes she finds herself looking at bright droplets of her own blood on the patch. She feels stinging where it came off. Stars and darkness gather at the edges of her vision and a roaring in her ears. Blood. Oh! She tries to focus as consciousness recedes.

Her voice slurs as she tries to speak a warning, hand reaching out to grab the suited man's sleeve, "...blood may... contamin... careful...HMHVv..." Her eyes flutter closed and her hand slips off the man's arm.

Tiny slings his back over his shoulder and heads for the undergrowth, trying to keep his larger form in as much cover as possible. Heading away from the SUV hoping not to be spotted by the heli crew

JT and Graves:
With your companions running into the woods to try and flee down the mountain with Ballefour's bloody head, the both of you stand clear of the vehicle with your weapons on the ground.

A voice carries over the loud speaker instructing you to lay face down on the pavement with your hands on your head. It's easy to see a failure to comply will only result in a short chase and you being gunned down from above by the minigun mounted on the helicopter's nose.

Laying flat on the pavement, the sounds of sirens continue to get closer. Within another minute, you feel the cars come to a stop a few meters away. Officers move forward covering each other, restraints bite deeply into your wrists. Quickly you are both lifted to your feet by the restraints, as your joints scream in agony from the strain being placed on them.

The shotguns held in the rear officers' hands never stray from your midsections as you are patted down. Not until you are locked into the backseat of the patrol cars do the guards give the slightest hint of relaxing.

Three more patrol cars and an ambulance blast past you towards the manor house. Tight conversations in French pass between the guards as the chopper sweeps off the street moving over the forest to follow your companions. You think you may have bought them a five minute headstart to run.

Bishop makes his way through the trees with Tiny. The troll's only indication that Bishop is around is the red blip that follows him on the heads-up display of the BattleTac Network.

"Keep moving. If that chopper comes looking for us, you just keep moving, I'll take care if it. I've got thermal camos on, it'll have a heck of a time tracking me."

In the back of the squad car, JT's heart pounds. He fears that he did not allow Bishop, Tiny and Kane as much of a headstart as he had planned.

Knowing there are probably recording devices in the car, JT doesn't lead onto the others fleeing through the forrest. "So thats it then..."


Kane on the other hand, is right at Bishop's side. Following him by scent, much like he had to when his shaman master was under the cloak of invisibility.

Tiny and Bishop:
Kane chases at your heels as you flee through the forest and down the mountain. Within moments the helicopter loudspeaker can be heard echoing across the valley between the mountains.

"Halt with your hands above your head. Drop all weapons, this will be your only warning."

Still following Bishop's lead, Kane hears the chopper's loud speaker thundering above. While he doesn't understand what it says, he knows it isn't good, and thinks to himself, Oh shit.

Bishop quickly scans the skies, looking for the source of the voice. As he does so, he reaches behind him and looses the strap that holds his shotgun in place.

Bishop:
You make out the chopper hovering high above the canopy of the tree at a distance. They have probably picked up your heat signatures against the cold snow and night air.

"Tiny, take cover behind a tree for a sec"

Bishop takes his own advice, then pulls out his shutgun and launches a Freeze Foam grenade up towards the chopper, hoping to cover their sensor array.

Tiny Keeps cover in the trees hoping not to be spotted.

This is going to be a longer day than expected.

Kane trots ahead of the team not wanting his friends to be discovered. Hopefully the chopper will follow him instead, as well as not fire.

JT waits patiently, the mask of the dog subtly creeps upon his face as lets the mana flow through his body. It dissapates as he releases the energy around him, suspended, waiting to commanded.

JT:
The guards around you obviously grow nervous at the blatant display of magic at your command. A quick tense exchange happens and the effect is immediately obvious as one of them turns and aims his sidearm directly at you. Aiming for your head, his body language telegraphs a distinct desire to shoot you if anything supernatural happens.

Forest:
With a muffled thump, the grenade launches out. It explodes in mid air as the helicopter veers back and away from the incoming projectile. The foam wraps partially around the sensor grid, but you are uncertain how effectively it has blocked the electronic transmission.

The undernose turret cycles to life, with lethal intent.

Forest:
A stream of electrons courses across the landscape returning with sensor echoes that lay a digital map across the virtual dashboard of the helicopter. Gunfire echoes across the valley.

Edana's sharp sense of self-preservation, quite independent of her waking mind, kicks itself into gear as unwelcome mana gropes through her brain. Otherwise, the darkness is welcome to the sleeping woman. She hides from consciousness, running through her own dreamscape, made bleak and hellish with the unkind chemicals.

In the dream, Herne chases her, eyes burning mouth bloodied. It is her blood. She is holding something... she looks down and Ballefour's severed, blood-smeared head leers up at her, his refined voice purring, "I wish we could have met under... different circumstances."

A pain in her heel flares and she stumbles, head pitching up and forward propelled by her momentum. Herne! Ballefour's head tumbles away, "This is not over, femme d'os." His voice trails away as Edana hits the rocky ground, hard and blackness comes for her again.

Forest:
In the echo of the gunfire, Tiny cries out, but the sound is soon cut short as blood bubbles up in his throat as vital organs in his chest and abdomen are shredded. The troll stumbles to the ground and soon the snow around him takes on a crimson color.

Kane leaps to the side with self-preservation overriding the orders he was given. Next to him, a tree splinters and fractures under the heavy barrage.

Taking advantage of the momentary spike of heat coming from his collapsed comrade, Bishop steps out from behind the tree he had been using to help cover him. A shimmer of ruthenium is all that's visible as the mercenary raises his shotgun for another blast. Two grenades launch out filling the air with foam and blocking visual contact.

Bishop slings his shotgun back into place and neals down next to Tiny. Sorry my friend. He pauses to make the sign of the cross over the body of the dying troll. He picks up the bag that contains the severed head and the next instant he is back on his feet, stealthing his way through the forest. He whistles, calling Kane to follow him.

Forest:
Realizing that a grenade targeting the rotors could do serious damage to the chopper and not being able to target effectively, the rigger bugs out. Ground support will have to take care of tracking you from here.


Time passes...

French National Security HQ
Treated like terrorists and serial killers, JT and Graves get brought in through the maximum security entrance and passed through airlock style doors. Stripped of armor and weapons under the watchful gaze of sentry guns, they are taken to different interrogation rooms and left to sit.

Hours pass as you stare at the small black table in front of you. Your hands are manacled behind you, cold against the gooseflesh that crawls along your skin.

JT:
A man in a black suit enters the room and sits across from you.

"Why are you here?'

Graves:
"Who are you?"

The voice echoes through the room.

Edana:
You come to with a jerk, the world crystalizing around you in simulated sensation. Standing in a large conference room, two techs back away from you. A door opens.

Three men walk in.

"Please, sit."

The techs leave the room, fading out as if never there.

"Due to the nature of your abilities, all interrogation will take place in this room. Why are you here?"

Edana gasps and feels a strange echo of the sensation, like deja vu. Where is this... who are these - hey?!

"Due to the nature blah blah blah..." Edana blinks. What is going on? Where did those guys go...? She peers into the astral to find... nothing... The man's droning voice continues, "...blah blah room. Why are you here?"

She thinks ...because you put me here? ...unhelpfully. The echo of the thought, the sense of being measured and remeasured. She looks at the men soberly and sits down, wincing before she even feels the pain of spikes that tear at her flesh.

She is still trying to parse the distinct lack of mana she can touch or sense. Herne! She shuts off the thought, calling it back, before it can tip off any of these unknown interrogators. She fold her hands neatly before her and calmly schools her mind to an icy stillness. Anything they get from me they get from my mouth alone.

She answers flatly, "Am I under arrest?"

Edana:
The center man, caucasian in his late 30s, dark colored suit, takes a seat at the table opposite you.

"Perhaps, as it stands now, you are being questioned for your involvement in an attack on a member of the aristocracy, his household and guest. Said attack left twenty-three dead within the house and several guards outside were drugged. Surveillance footage has left a mixed report, including several members of your team using explosive devices and illegal chemical compounds.

"We also have confirmation that you never passed through customs and are thus trespassing on our native soil as an unregistered awakened individual. I'm sure that you understand, we have ample grounds to arrest you if such is necessary but I have convinced my superiors that you will cooperate with us. Isn't that right, Ms. O'Reilly?"

It was difficult because you had never seen his face, if this digital representation was even accurate, but the voice finally registers in your mind. This man was the one who had stabilized you at the chateau.

Edana's hand flutters to her neck as she connects the dots with the voice and the digital image before her and the matter-of-fact man at the chateau. Fear and gratitude well in her chest. Tears gather in her eyes as the out-of-control mess that has come of the team's efforts unravels in its entirety before her.

"Who wa-" she chokes off, throat constricting, "Who was that man?" She dashes her hand across her eyes. "The one they killed."

Sparky:
"While we are still sorting out the exact details, the list of deceased is as follows." Your wayward savior pulls a datapad out of his coat in a small show of system magic.

"Jean-Paul Goy, Marquis de Lyon. Luc Baiour. Amandine and Marie Chevry. Marc Dufey. Henri Duval...."

His voice drones on reading out every single name of the servants and house guard.

Edana's face goes even more sheet white than ever. This is all my fault. I should never have made that site. Gonzo was right... Edana forces herself to listen to each name, scourging them into her brain forever. Dammit, if anyone deserved to die it was that sick bastard Ballefour, but... her mind rejects the carnage of the other group's attack.

"He was the Marquis? And the woman, the one Ballefour..." she swallows, a wave of nausea and revulsion rolling in her gut.

She stares blankly off to the side at a simulated speck on the table before her. Why would the sim model a speck? The thought floats unbelonging through remembered flashes of blood and savagery that no amount of distance in time or space will ever purge from her mind. Before her captors can reply, she gives her head a shake, pale hair shifting around her shoulders. She lifts her head intending to speak, still staring off to the side, unable to look into even simulated eyes.

She freezes, mouth slightly open, desperately wanting to confess to every wrongdoing in the whole venture, wanting the whole sordid affair to be done with. A voice shrills in the back of her head that full disclosure would be A Very Bad Thing. Another shrills that anything less than full disclosure would be A Very Bad Thing. And in all that, Ballefour's empty eyes staring up from the blood-stained rug. She swallows again.

"I don't know what to do," she whispers. This is it. She hardens her resolve to not to let her fear melt her brain down. She pares the problem down to its simple parts. "I don't see any reason not to cooperate, but I'm scared to." Her face and thin frame are very still. Her eyes are wide and pleading, though her jaw is set and her tone steadies somewhat. "And I'm even more scared not to." Her eyes flicker to the man in the center.

"Under the circumstances." She finishes weakly and her eyes go back to the speck.

Edana:
"Cooperation is vital if you want my help. I may be able to convince the prosecutor to drop charges against you if you are able to fill in the whole story and testify. Otherwise, I'm going to be honest here, you will probably end up in a vat. I've seen what happens to Awakened criminals on capital offenses. They are kept in a Sim sense environment, drugged to the point that they are unable to fight the simulation. Then slowly, as the need arises, organs are removed to help productive members of society."

Extending his arm across the table, he lays his hand palm up, offering it out for emotional support.

"I don't want that to happen to you. You seem to have been caught up in a web of mistakes and bad choices. Help me, so that I can help you."

Tigger:
It's almost sundown by the time you reach the base of the mountain. Several times upon reaching chasms that you couldn't jump, Herne materialized and was able to lift you across. The hunter spirit is withdrawn and stoic. At one point he almost leaves your side as the link between him and his current mistress flares to life.

Reserved and wary he glides next to you through the snow and rock. You reach a small village with a cafe, motel and fuel station. It's not much but it will serve while you wait.

Bishop:
The day has been long. You and Kane have both had to rest at different points in the day as exhaustion creeps into your body through the bone-numbing chill. The canine is a constant companion, as you descend down the mountain. Without a map it is difficult to always find a path that both of you can successfully navigate.

With the approaching night, you think that you are about six hours from civilization. Weary and cold you settle down in the shelter of a fallen tree. Kane limps beside you, his paws frozen and starting to crack along the pads.

Bishop takes his time clearing a small area of any pine needles and other flamible material. He then goes about gathering up some sticks to get a fire started, along with some larger chucks of wood to keep it going through the night. One he has a small log-cabin of sticks put together, he breaks out his survival kit and pulls out the matches. It takes a few tries, but eventually he gets a small campfire going. Nothing too big, but enough to provide some warmth against the night's chill. He pats the ground next to him, hoping that Kane will lay down next to him and let him look at his feet. Reaching into his pack, Bishop brings out his medkit and does what he can to ease the dog's suffering while they rest up. He offers Kane a ration bar, hoping the canine will eat it.

After a while, he brings up his heads up display and fires up the cell phone and radio links, seeing if he can reach anyone.

Kane, used to extended out door hunts, and long winter nights, the combination though is too much and he needs the rest. He settles down with his human companion, resting for as long as possible, but ready to go when Bishop is.


JT answers slowly, not knowing where to start.

"Well, it started back in Seattle, the night before last, I think, its been a long two days...

"A man by the name of Bellafour released a deadly virus into the subway of Seattle, then he fled to New York, then to the chatauex...

"We acted quickly before we could get clearence and papers cause we were afraid that he was going to release more of the virus, here or on Zurich. In our quick investigation we discovered it was possible that he had tickets to the station..."

JT:
The man sits there quietly listening, with a look on his face as if confirming facts that he already knows.

"You seem unsure. Speak clearly and concisely. Stay focused and to the point. How did you get into France? I want specific names, details including time and place. From there we will work our way forward to the present."

The level of focus his voice carries is crystalline and sharp, while his affect may be similar to a bored executive, your trained ear recognizes the same rhythms that interrogators would use before they get rolling.

Graves:

"My name is Nathan Graves." His old prisoner of war training kicks in, even without his conscious knowledge. Hold out as long as you can, only directly answer the questions given to you, volunteer nothing.

Graves:
"Rank, serial number and military allegiance."

There's no echo in the room, each word is spoken concisely and seems to be absorbed into the walls rather than rebound against them.

Something about the place sets off Graves's bulldrek detector. Then he realised that the first question echoed while the second did not. Something is wrong about this place. Simsense? Mind control?

"Captain, retired. 8B3C-DC74-89D8. UCAS."

I'm gonna end up in a vat if I don't tell him everything. Edana's eyes widen, her breathing grows shallow and quiet as the mans hand slides across the table toward her. When you fall into the ocean, you'll grab a snake. She hesitates and stretches her hand out to him.

I'm not even much of a caster... why all the trouble?

Edana pushes again trying to slip out of her body and finding herself stuck. She feels a moment of claustrophobia, stuck in this place, in this 'body'. She puts a little pressure on the man's hand, pulling very slightly.

"Can we get out of here?" she glances around the rooms dreary, dismal walls and they seem to be getting closer. Hell, in here, they very well might be. She swallows and her eyes rake back to the interrogator, intent and afraid. She swallows, "Please."

Graves:
"What was your mission in France, Captain?"

The voice which had been a male, smooth in his thirties has shifted. It now comes across gruff and gravelly in his later-60s.

Edana:
"We cannot leave until I have a full confession. If this room is too confining I can change the venue."

The room shifts and the walls melt away. Only the table and chairs stay solid as you and your interrogators are transported elsewhere. The image reforms in the mountains. The table is sitting in the wide turnaround in front of the Marquis de Lyon's manor. It is obvious that this isn't a recent version as there is no sign of the battle and struggle that happened here in the last few hours, days...

"Just tired... and anxious," he adds after a short pause. "Worried about the state of Seattle and New York. No news on any VITAS outbreaks?"

Looking at the mirror in the small motel bathroom, Tigger makes one last adjustment to his features. Hearing the faint chime of the phone he reaches out to the counter where it rests. "Hello?"

Graves: Volunteer nothing.

"I am no longer a captain. I am not on a mission."

The enemy might control the physical environment. He may cause you discomfort, distress, even injury but the true battlefield lies in your mind. It is in your mind where the battle will be fought and the war won. Pay attention you maggots, someday the drek I'm teaching you might save your life. More importantly you might actually keep your drek holes shut so you do not endanger MY life.

JT:
"Very well. We will start again."

The man in the black suit, folds his hands together on the table. He watches you intently.

"Why are you here?"

Graves:
The speaker stays the same gruff, gravelly voice.

"If you are not on a mission captain, what port of entry did you use to come into France? With whom did you register your armaments?"

The phone line clicks a few times in Tigger's ear, verifying a secure connection.

"Its Bishop. Looks like you and I are the only ones that made it out. Tiny got hit. Everyone else is in custody. I'm about six hours away from you currently."

Edana looks around at the mountain scene, somehow creepier by its flatness than the sterile interrogation room. She stands up, turning slowly around to look at the facade of the brooding chateau. What did we do...? She takes a deep breath.

"Thanks." She takes a few tentatives steps toward the chateau and comes up against a spongy resistence, like walking into a wall of gelatin. The image of the chateau ripples outward from the impact. Oh. It's still the 'room'. Just with better wall paper. She sighs and turns around, leaning against the cushiony wall. A vat. She blinks looking blankly at her captor, interrogator... her savior.

"We arrived over there." She points off to the distant grounds of the chateau toward where the team had made it's first entrance. "I assumed astral form to scout and deal with astral threats."

"There had been a chopper coming from somewhere. I fought a mage, another bounty hunter I'm pretty sure. I disrupted him and followed his trail to his body and took some souvenirs, bargaining chips I’d hoped. A ring and a sword. I’m sure you saw them.”

She stands straight, “My sword! Where is it?”

"We were here to take Lucien Ballefour into custody. He released biological weapons in Seattle, probably New York, and planned on spreading the disease across the globe using the Zurich station.

"Only when we caught up with him at the Chateaux, some team of mercenaries were already there. They popped nerve gas in just about the entire complex, then shot the remaining standing occupants. They opened fire on us, then executed Ballefour, before we even had a chance to defend ourselves. You can match ballistics, but I think they were using explosive ammo.

"We were supposed to take Ballefour in alive, to face charges in Seattle, and to recover his files, to find if there were others involved in his plot.

"On top of that he is also wanted for at least two murders."

Tigger sits as the information is absorbed. "I'm pretty sure Edana is still in the land of the living as her spirit is still here. What's the next step?"

The spirit bristles quietly, eyes glowing dim and lamp-like in the corner where he has curled up, head on massive paws. Without moving, he squints at Tigger preening in the mirror, vague annoyance at the Adept's 3rd person reference to him plays awkwardly across his psyche, even after years of Edana's hammering identity into him. He leaps for Tigger, flickering into owl form for two beats of white wings before becoming a long, fierce-bladed knife that whickers, flashing, through the air scant centimeters in front of Tigger's nose before imbedding itself into the wall with a solid thunk.

"Herne," Says the kniife, "And, yes, my mistress lives. She sleeps. Troubled." The knife vanishes, and Tigger feels a brush across the back of his neck, a whisper passing from ear to ear, like breath on his skin, "And it is time I rejoined her."

Edana:
"Your sword is currently in a personal effects locker, it and your other belongings are secure. Guards report activity a few moments before your teammembers entered the property en masse. It was masked in some way to not register on sensors--either through technological means such as ruthenium or applied thaumaturgy.

"Was the anomaly a member of your team? I will also need information on your associates. Full names, possible aliases, physical descriptions and all contact information that you have for them. If they are equally cooperative, we may be able to discern who was at fault in this matter. I certainly don't wish innocent people to be punished unjustly "

JT:
"Those are bold charges, with several incongruent steps in between points of reference. Please explain to me how you know that this 'Lucien Ballefour' released biological weapons in two major metroplexes and planned a release on a third.

"I also want you to fill in the details leading up to how you arrived at the Chateau. After that we can continue forward with your further statements."

Your interrogator pulls a small datapad from an inner pocket and makes minor notations.

Graves:

"I do not know. Everything is in French. I do not speak or read French. I am not aware that I had any armaments that require registration."

"We have him on video, and we searched his house and found all kinds of biological weapons and antidotes. He wasnt supposed to die, we were suppose to bring him in alive to stand trial.

"Did you discover who the mercenaries were?"

"First step is to regroup. This job is a bust. The target was to be brought back alive for trial, so we're dead in the water at this point. I really don't want to leave the rest sitting in prison though. Can the spirit lead us to where they are being held? No promises, but I'd at least like to see if we can do anything for them."

"Worth a try." Turning from the phone, Tigger addresses the primal spirit. "Be at ease, rash action is what has lead to this, we must be clalm and think clearly. Can you lead us to your mistress Herne? It appears we may try to rescue her." Tigger waits, hoping the spirit hasn't abandoned them already.

Graves:
"Within each port of entry, all signs are clearly posted in four separate languages: English, French, German, and Spanish. Certain borders have additional languages posted. Did you pass through a legal port of entry or are you here illegally?

"As for your armaments, feigned ignorance and lies will get you nowhere. You were found carrying military grade hardware illegal even in your own country without permit. If you passed through a legal port of entry, you will have declared all such things and been informed of their prohibited status."

JT:
"You are dissembling. Speak clearly and honestly. How were you sure of his intention to release the biological weapons in mulitple metroplexes and his supposed release of said agents in two metroplexes already. New York has had no report of any biological terrorism.

"Seattle, the location of your permanent residence according to your file, was quarantined two days ago. Please describe to me how you came to leave the city, breaking said quarantine and arrive in France."

"Thats why were to arrest Ballefour. To stand trial back in Seattle, and be formally charged. He is still innocent, until proven guilty, but due to the haneous crimes and his access to money and said biological weapons, he was a global risk."