Clayton followed Fursa into the rarely-used room off the upper hallway in the Squirrel. Business called, or else Fursa would have chosen the private booth.

Upon entering the familiar old room, the two vampires took their usual seats, the wood on one arm worn pale where Fursa's flops rubbed it raw. Clayton slouched into his chair, not sitting as straight as usual.

"How are you feeling?" Fursa asked. The attack had not left her mind, nor the possible effects of it. His obvious change of clothing style communicated something had changed.

Clayton nodded in reply. "Better. Much better."

Fursa replied, "Brujah looks different on you." Indeed, his sandy hair was cut in a severe military flat-top, and his usual dapper khakis were sacrificed for jeans and workboots. Tweed gave way to black leather.

Clayton actually smiled faintly. "It was time to change."

Fursa nodded and gazed at the map of Concord "I know how that is, really."

Clayton nodded in silent agreement.

Fursa said, "Anyway," pausing a moment to collect her thoughts "who among us resides in the Concord area? I know there's Albert's Granchilde, MacDonald and those two Dancers from your Clan..."

Clayton pursed his lips, thinking. "I have a temporary Haven there, because of the time I spend up there with clients, but that's all I know of offhand."

Fursa fingered her upper lip and reached behind her for a bottle from the wine rack, popping the cork out with her teeth.

Clayton cocked his head, no fool he. "What's going on up there?"

"*Something* is going on up there. I don't know what, though." Fursa replied.

Clayton frowned. "Hm. Perhaps my dancers up there might know a bit more."

Fursa thought silently and stared at the map some more. "Have them check, if you would. Of all places in the state, Concord is the real battleground."

Clayton nodded slowly, considering. "It is. I should probably take a quick look up there myself." She drew a finger across the page, following the lines of I 93 and I 89 with a bit of a frown. He watched. Whatever terseness he evinced before became more pronounced.

Fursa lifted her eyes to Clayton's and nodded gravely...it was as bad as he guessed.

Clayton narrowed his eyes and frowned. With his new look, it was a distinctly unhappy face.

"I cannot say how it will happen," Fursa said. "But I know Pendragon is itching to take the state back. My contacts are certain of it."

Clayton ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth, along his teeth. He looked at the map. "His timing, to understate the matter, is horrible."

"At least you understand the reality of the threat," Fursa said with a small chuckle. It was a mirthless sound.

Clayton nodded. "It's perpetual, in a way. The whole region has always been finely balanced. It was only a matter of time."

"Yeah, finely balanced on a ticking bomb," Fursa replied wryly. Clayton nodded in agreement. Fursa snorted and planted a finger in the middle of "Concord" on the map.

After a short pause, Clayton asked "Who else is getting involved?"

Fursa shrugged "I haven't discovered that yet. He's probably trying to bring the Brujah to his heel for an assualt on White River Junction." It was hard to say who Roman Pandragon wanted a piece of worse--the Gangrel who became Prince and pushed him aside or the Gangrel-Antitribu who routed him in the forests of Vermont.

Clayton nodded, and added quietly: "It's a long way from Lebanon to Concord."

Fursa leaned forward and offered a quiet challenge. "State Capitol. He needs places to 'billet' his troops." Clayton cocked his head, evidently wanting to hear more details. Fursa continued: "He could also use a place to strike at Manchester from"

Clayton nodded. He paused a moment, then stood up, walking over to the map. He placed two fingers on Lebanon and Concord, then moved them to Concord and Manchester. One finger traced up from Concord along I-89, coming to rest in a place dotted with green spots, small lakes, and ski areas. "Might be nice to set up a small surprise around here, in case he tries the front door."

"And what about a passing car in the day or night with a couple Kindred in it?" Fursa asked. Motor transportation had changed the world, as well as how to protect yourself in it.

Clayton looked out the window, through the frost on the sill, greying the night. "There are lots of ways to severely inconvenience travellers in I-89 without harming anyone. Roadblocks, avalanches, black ice warnings...."

"For how long?" Fursa asked, offering the a touch of reality to the discussion. "The Price of Peace is Eternal Vigilance"

Clayton smirked. "I'm sure it wouldn't hurt for them to know that you know they're coming. The more they know that, the more they might consider upstate New York."

"True enough," Fursa said. "Let's see if we can discover who has been skulking about up there. I am sure our combined agents can handle a road block"

Clayton nodded, then smirked. "Yours, more likely. But perhaps I can arrange for a Midwinter Parade in Concord, though, that might be able to get a few things accomplished."

Fursa smiled slowly "Certainly." She continued: "If you would coordinate efforts among the Primogen to track down information, I would appreciate it."

Clayton nodded. "Of course," he coughed delicately, "that might result in some independent excursions."

Fursa smirked "As long as we don't have any melees that break the Masquerade and result in deaths of people on our team, should that bother me?"

Clayton shrugged. "Keep the Peace" he said in reply. He grinned slightly. It was *her* law, afterall.

Fursa smiled darkly "There are many truths about the nature of Frith, Clayton. I prefer people to default to the obvious ones, of course." Thereby making her life much easier.

Silence fell between the two for a moment. Fursa took a drink from the bottle and looked at the map again. Clayton chuckled, ideas clearly spinning before his eyes.

Fursa broke the silence. "Jail break. Maybe a sighting for 'America's Most Wanted'? That would draw the Federal Authorities out."

Clayton frowned. "Wouldn't it be awful if there were a jail break during the Midwinter Parade? Especially if the regional director of the NEA were visiting...."

"Gosh, wouldn't it?" she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Clayton said quietly, "And of course the feds always get involved if a US congresswoman is threatened." He nodded. "Longest night of the year," he said to himself thoughtfully. Fursa nodded. A twitch of a smile touched Clayton's lips.

"I leave it to you to find appropriate subtlety" Fursa said, knowing damn well Clayton was a master of the artform.

Clayton nodded. "Mummer's the word." If his smirk were a chuckle, it would have been a pretty evil one.

Fursa's look betrayed no particular endorsement of any action or inaction. At last she asked, "Who is that film producer? Harvey Pallas?"

Clayton nodded. "Yes. Like Athena."

Fursa said, "Perhaps he should be spurred to inspiration for a film here, maybe offered some venture capitol?"

Clayton nodded equivocally. "He seems to need a Muse. Hopefully we can avoid _Sorority Prom Girls in Bondage II: All Tied Up Again!_, though."

"Why not?" Fursa said, smiling. "I'm sure the goths at the Claw would flock for a chance to be extras"

Clayton's nose twitched. "I'm sure he can manage something classier than that."

Fursa snickered. "You have not lost your sense of taste, either. I hold out great hope for this change of yours, Clayton."

Clayton allowed himself a small grin. "Clothes may come and go, but fashion is eternal."

Fursa paused. "Be sure to make it known that strange kindred are to be apprehended and made known to me personally." Clayton nodded. Fursa leaned back in consideration, then said "I will be available by phone only from the 20th through the 23rd. I'll be up north."

Clayton nodded. "It looks like I'll be dividing my time between here and Concord."

Fursa nodded. "I will have the others aid in the effort as I see them. However, I expect the issues in Boston will occupy me quite fully."

"Noted. I'll spread the word here." Clayton said, nodding once more.

Fursa got up "Very good." Clayton reached for the phone, starting on things immediately. Fursa headed for the door "I'll be in touch."