Across Enemy Lines

-=Arkady Dallas=-

Faster Arkady, there is a small window to succeed, then you will have failed. Athosides said, his booming bass voice echoing around the room.

Easy for him to say, I was the one running across the gym jumping obstacles and dodging whatever he decided to throw at me. Running in combat boots isn't easy, and I really hate it. My pants were combat fatigues, 1950's army issue, my shirt a dark plain brown number, my duster a black canvas with plates in it. Master wanted the test to be authentic, though he wouldn't be letting me wear any of this when I left here. As a vampire I didn't need the duster for warmth, and at least I wasn't generating the heat a human would in this get up. Constantin shot me in the back with something large caliber, making me miss my next step onto the beam I was supposed to run along. Oh yeah, and I was repeating this cantrip Athosides wanted me to use. "Parberic, avaustis, Sibtaric, Hecate." Totally useless unless someone had placed a ward in my path...there it is.

Now the interesting thing was saying the antidote while running. "Minii neremjit toirog süirch Baina!" I shouted the last word as I crossed the ward. Just as I felt the wind from it's activation it dimmed out. That was close, it would burn itself into my body and take all night to heal if I missed it. I laughed, jumped for the eagle talisman as it came in reach. I had done it. Fuck Athosides and his test. I was ready. I had done it.

Well done Arkady. Present yourself and give the parameters of your mission.

I carried the eagle talisman to him, dropping to a knee in front of the Regent. He was a tall barrel chested vampire in an elaborate white robe, with red trim. His black beard was full and thick, his black eyes hard and cold. This vampire had been around for a while, and he tolerated me at best. I was too young to understand his anachronist attitude and too American to be as servile as he thought I should be.

"The parameter of my mission are as follows: I am to travel to San Francisco. In the event that the Kuie-jin take over the city as all signs point to, I am to make myself indespensable to the Tremere left in the city. I am to report actions in the city and conditions as they become apparent. I am to find the opportunity to take down a Kuie-jin and attempt the Ritual of the Bitter Rose in order to find out if such a ritual is useful on the Oriental faction. I am to keep my true goal hidden from the Tremere of the city, and only report my findings to you Constantin, who will report to you. Such are the parameters of my mission."

Athosides smiled his cold, hungry smile. Very good pupil. Do not fail your clan. Do not fail me. We need to know the Orientals every weakness.

A night out on the Town

I left the chantry, driving the sedan I had purchased two years ago. It's a dark blue 2000 Volkswagon Jetta. It's nearly invisible in traffic, but efficient and fast. Perfect for exploring the city without attracting attention. After all these years, the Special Agent training hasn't left me.

I drove around the city, enjoying the lights. My hunger was low, but I desired to be warm again. I parked near a bar and made my way up the street. I felt the music, could smell the humanity inside. On the wall near the door was a piece of paper on a nail. "Rave party at the Railroad station, live music!"

I entered the bar. There were a number of people here. After only a few minutes I found an interested woman, and with only a little mental push she allowed me to bite her and take some of her warmth. She tasted of perfume and mediocrity. I licked her wound clean, thanked her for her time, and paid for her drinks. She was still sitting dazed as I got up and left.

I remembered the piece of paper again and looked it over. The train station was in Oakland, across the bay. We are not technically supposed to go there without permission of the Mandarinate, but I was feeling itchy. I needed to explore a little. I had been stuck in this city for too long for my tastes.

I got in my Volkswagon and drove across the bridge. Leaving wasn't an issue, coming back in would likely be the part where I would be stopped. The bay shone under the night lights of San Francisco, and the dark water twinkled with reflection. Occasional ships dotted it's surface.

I crossed into Oakland, made a right down into the darkened streets there. Half of the street lights were out. I was okay with that, my heightened senses didn't need the light. I got to where I could see the train station, and drove away several blocks. Once I reached an area where I felt like my car wouldn't be stripped in minutes, I parked it and walked back to the abandoned station.

I mean it should have been abandoned. It wasn't. There were currently lights on inside. I could feel the music while still beyond the fence. There were people out front smoking various substances and drinking. I walked among them, amazed at the behaviors on display. Men and women were making out, a couple were shooting up. Three guys were having a slapping contest, loudly challenging each other and laughing after each exchange. Youth, the belief that they were indestructible and untouchable. I was sure I could hear the sounds of sex coming from the shadows created by the gothic structure of the station. It might have even been consensual.

At the door were a couple really large black men, armed with hand guns and shotguns. The man on the left had his shotgun slung across his shoulders, and a baseball bat in his hand. His partner also had the shotgun across his back, and the handle of extendable Asp sticking out of his pocket. He stepped in front of me, sticking his hand out palm out in the universal gesture to stop. I did.

"You a white-bread Motherfucka ain't you?" He said, his voice a bass rumble.

I simply looked at him. He was right, I didn't have anything to add.

"What the fuck you want White Bread?" He asked.

"Looks like a party. Thought I would dance a little, look at the pretty ladies." I answered, smiling. I even tried to make it touch my eyes, so I could be more unassuming.

"Sure. Ten dollars to come in. Gotta pay for the band. And we are gonna check you for a wire." He tuned his palm flat, pointing at it.

I pulled my wallet out of my coat, handing him the ten dollars. I lifted my shirt, opened my coat. "No wire." I stated.

He looked at me a moment, then nodded his head. "I know you got a gun. I ain't worried about it. You pull it out though, and one of us will spread your guts all over the floor. These shot guns are loaded with three shot loads. They will systematically remove all you vital organs when we shoot you. So don't make us, I hate to clean up the mess."

"I get it. Just here for a good time, but a man can't be too careful in this part of town." I said showing my hands in a sign of peace and surrender.

"Have a good time. The boys have good time stuff over under the plastic there." He said with a jerk of his head toward a fenced off area.

"What kind of "good time stuff" they got?" I asked idely curious. He looked at me hard.

"I ain't the fucking menu. If you're interested go talk to the man. Now get the fuck out of the way, There's some titties coming in behind you." He hooked a thumb toward the stage area.

I nodded and moved past him. He already was checking out the young girls coming in behind me. I found myself focusing on the music. It was hypnotic almost, the singer appeared to be in her early twenties. White skin, beautiful red hair cascading around her. She was belting out a rock song. She seemed very alive. Her energy and emotion