The New Deal

I wish the lights had been a bit brighter so I could see Malvolio’s eyes bulge. The werewolf is sniffing like mad. Damn, why did I have to add the Elite part to that pack of goons? The last ace is on the table and it’s the one most likely to get me killed. Vampires just aren’t used to the idea of having to die, period. Maybe Malvolio figured he was fast enough to at least dodge a fatal wound coming from me. I’m sure the other vampires figured that as well. But pretty much every thing they knew about fighting involved hand to hand combat as the only effective way to kill. And most of that you could grow back. Even in a huge skirmish, only a handful ever died. But guns were a different game for them. The idea of dying without doing anything wrong, of death by just standing there, that was starting to take effect and I could tell it was unsettling them. “Think about it, Malvolio. You know these guys have to be wiped out. But if you barge into that place it’ll be Normandy without the scenic beach. You need me and I need to get out of here,” I say. I’m assuming by now the werewolf has confirmed the trooper part and Malvolio is wondering how to handle a full house. “Lower your gun and we can deal,” he finally says. I shake my head. “By the Book of Nod and the purity of my blood, lower your gun and you will come to no harm, mortal,” he says. I lower the gun. “We shall do as you say. I want maps of the installation, number of troops, guard patterns, everything I’ll need for a full scale assault. When you give me that I’ll give you…how much is enough? One million?” Malvolio asks. The guy wasn’t used to valuing money or material goods. “When do we make this trade?” I ask. He is getting nervous and I can tell he’s in a rush to get out of the place. “I would say…two weeks? We will meet at ‘The Montreat’. Room 176. Midnight, naturally. And I warn you, we have observed this installation a great deal ourselves. Any attempts at false information for us, which I expect you to be giving the Paladins, will be dealt with brutally. There will always be night time, Mr. Shade,” he says. With that, he vanishes in the shadows and I barely hear the air move as he makes his escape. A window clatters, the sound of shoe rubber twisting on concrete, and the whole pack is gone. My mind goes back to the kid immediately and I head for the exit.