“Keti,” she said wearily, “update me on the biker siege.”
“The police standoff with the survivors of the tollway fight is ongoing. Media presence is exactly as bad as we projected. We’re coordinating with the Cabal on resolving the outcome. Mr Vermillion has assured us that the bikers are all going to have a violent drug reaction and die very shortly, including the ones in police and medical custody.”
Anna took a short moment to play out the scenario in her mind.
“The story will be an undirected, mass reaction to a bad batch of drugs leading to tragic and violent outbursts,” she said thoughtfully. “We can work with that. It’ll play well with the conservative crowd; let them distract everyone with a crackdown on drug enforcement. The premier will love it; she loves looking strong.”
“I’ve scheduled your meeting with her for two thirty.”
“Video conference or in person?”
“She wants you to go to her.”
“Great. What else?”
“Mr Vermillion wanted to express that the Cabal takes responsibility for the problem. He also wanted to know where Jason Asano was.”
“Don’t we all. What about this vampire they claim is responsible for unleashing the Blood Riders? Are they any closer to handing him over?”
“Mr Vermillion says it will be by the end of the day.”
The biker battle footage was still being looped on the international news and now phone footage was cropping up depicting flagrantly magical events. Fortunately, the central figure was just as blurry and indistinguishable as in the news footage and the panicked, amateurish camerawork made it all the less clear. The problems stemmed from the few scraps of clear footage, along with eye-witness accounts gaining media coverage. Fortunately, the outlandish claims were being widely dismissed.
Then came the revelation that one of the French branches of the Network had snuck a category-three operative into the country without notifying them and had kidnapped someone without any of the Australian branches being any the wiser. If Aram hadn’t been present, the operative could have spun any kind of tale he wished as to why they arrived on the Sydney branch’s doorstep on the verge of death. If not for Australia’s strongest healer being stationed in its largest city, the French agent would be dead.
Anna stormed into medical, looking for said healer. She found her sprawled on a couch in the medical admin, looking like she’d run a marathon. There were a few empty potion bottles lying on the floor, along with a pair that still contained mana potion. Gladys had an old lady name and an old lady age, but her category-three powers gave her the looks of an Olympic beach volleyballer, with an athletic body, vibrant skin, and dark, lustrous hair.
“Well?” Anna demanded.
Gladys forced her eyes open unhappily.
“It’s done.”
“Did you tell him you were too exhausted to fully heal him, like I said?”
“I am too exhausted to fully heal him. Otherwise, I’d have ignored you.”
“Good. Just being collared doesn’t stop him from being dangerous and I doubt the shackles will hold him. Keti, have him moved to containment. Do not give him a spirit coin if he asks.”
Ketevan left and Anna turned back to Gladys, still lying back on the couch.
“He was really that damaged?” Anna asked.
“I’m amazed he survived long enough to get to us. I’m constantly astounded at the resilience of category-three essence magicians, and I am one. I just never want to test that kind of trauma on myself. I completely tapped myself out keeping him alive.”
“What made it so hard?”
“For one thing, those conditions were too resistant to my abilities. I should have been punching down on category-two magical ailments. The real problem, though, was the condition type. It was holy.”
“We don’t say holy, Gladys. We say luminous.”
“Stick your nomenclature guidelines up your arse, Anna. It was holy and it was brutal. I only have one power that removes holy conditions, and I can’t use it in quick succession. I had to keep healing him between uses to keep him alive while I slowly cleared the conditions off in chunks. Even then, if the damage condition hadn’t been dropping off by itself, I’d have run out of steam before the job was done, even with mana potions.”
“What about cleansing potions for him?”
“He took one before he came, which is the only reason he got to us still alive. I shoved another one in him every time he could take it. What the hell did this to him?”
“You saw the news?” Anna asked. “The man knocking over blood servants like bowling pins?”
“It was that guy?”
“Yeah. I really want to get a hold of him, but our French friend had accomplices bundle him up and take him away. Answers are only the beginning of what I want from the Frenchman. I’m going to juice him like an orange.”
“Are you allowed to do that?”
“He didn’t even request entry to Australia, let alone notify us. I’m very much looking forward to discussing protocol violations with whichever French prick has the plums to pick up the phone and complain.”
“And the man who did this to him was taken away?”
“Yes,” Anna said unhappily. “We have people looking, but we don’t have a lot to spare while we scramble to clean up the original crap storm. I told the Steering Committee that letting the EOA get their hooks in the media barons was a bad idea. Anyone with a functional brain could see that, but them? No, they’re too clever to bother with a blatantly obvious threat.”
“You have an issue with the Steering Committee, Mrs Tilden?”
The cool, amused voice was a stark contrast to Anna’s increasingly wild ranting. She whirled around, trying to school her expression before giving up and letting the rage spill over. As Director of the Network’s Sydney branch, Anna was in charge of its day-to-day operations. Like every branch, however, there was a steering committee that directed the overall agenda and made high-level decisions. Those decisions were normally relayed to Anna by the Steering Committee’s most junior member, Keith Culpeper.
“You know what, Keith?” she asked. “I do have a problem with the Steering Committee. I’ve got a list of emails so long, you could deforest a national park and not have enough paper to print them all out. Every one of them is a warning about the problems we need to solve today so they don’t blow up on us tomorrow. The EOA’s influence in the media. The federal government weakening our position with other branches internationally. THE FRIGGING BLOOD RIDERS! I warned the committee about the Cabal playing fast and loose months ago, and do you remember what you told me, Keith?”
“Not precisely,” Keith said, his amusement gone in the face of his unhinged subordinate.
“You said ‘don’t rock the boat, Anna. We don’t want to cause trouble with the other factions, Anna.’ Well, the boat’s capsized, Keith, because I warned you yesterday. Now it’s today and everything blew up! And I know who’s going to eat it for this, and it sure as hell won’t be you, will it, Keith?”