29 September 2008, In the bowels of Storm Towers

Franz Von Koch sat at the console, watching the readouts from the security system check on the tower as roughly 6000 lines of detailed output scrolled past his whiteless eyes. This was his job alone, since there were maybe 3 people in the city who were trusted enough to see the locations of the security cameras, the defensive systems, the explosives that made up the complex net that kept the tower secure.

The mistakes of Chicago had not been repeated in Manchester--his Prince expected it to be so. Even if she was a veritable tank, Fursa had told Franz, pointedly, that the emphasis was on shielding the weak. In his mind, this was an interesting way to put it. He laughed a little to himself as the readout crossed the 50% mark and continued his watching.

The phone rang around 63%. "Von Koch here...."

"Mr. Von Koch," the nasal and decidedly local accented voice droned in his ear "Yah wanted ta know when thaeh was somethin' happenin'?"

"Ja..." the Gangrel said with an absent nod to the voice.

"We seem ta have some people movin' some stuff that ain't household goods in and out of that warehouse up heah. I gettin ya some footage an all. Should I have the tape brought down ta ya?"

Franz smiled one of those strange smiles as he made the arrangements. At just after 5 am, he placed his call across town. The sheriff had waited all summer to hear this news....

30 September 2008, Just after Dark, At a house at the end of Debbie Street

The note was delivered to the front door anonymously.

My Dear Hyacinth,

I know about the body, my dear. I know how it happened and who did your dirty work. For shame. I so thought your Clan was more refined than that.

I will be in touch again soon. You and I have so much to discuss. Be prepared to recieve me.

A Friend.
(a thumb print in blood as a signature)