InsaneJournal

Current mood:	busy
Entry tags:	denarians, here we go again, in my time of dying, lynn, max, nano, risko, ruse, stewart

Section 3 (Instalment 1)
Word count: 1 075



And there it was all again. Another job. This one didn't require traveling anywhere far, really. No days away from the homes of them both, no hotels where Stephen would try to stuff him in the richest suite after his own and Max would only agree if it happened to be the one right next door, to be close at hand if needed. No driving cross-country, or sailing for weeks, or cutting through the Nevernever with all the dangers and contracts that meant. No long hours of sitting around tables until both of them (the rest of security were either patrolling or taking shift at guarding; Stephen and Max? Were there hammering out the details. Unless it was in the sensitive preliminay phase when Stephen was in negotiating on his own, in which case his head of security could just not fidget outside the meeting room, hoping that all would be well, inside.) needed to burn out the energy gathered up. If privacy allowed it, sometimes privately together. Otherwise? Sparring, wherever possible, or gym. Something that would not disturb the process of negotiation. But would let them breathe away from it.

None of that, this time. The package had been delivered by a convoy as safely as it had been supposed to, Edward had done well. As epxected. And now the meeting to deliver it in the hands of another representative of the Holy Mother (not that Max had ever had much of a chance to see the church so), right there in New York City. Well, not downtown. It was a private enough place. It should have been a normal meeting, really, Stephen with his usual personal touch delivering the package to one of his two main business contacts himself. It should have been, with full security teams and backup sniper.

Which is why Stephen had considered Max's last minute... well. Last day switch to adding a ruse to be a little extreme. Overkill, even, which was a word that some of his employees and many of his business clients or contacts would find oddly casual - but carried its own precision with it, just as each of Stephen's words did.

But even if he spoke that, he didn't place obstacles before the execution of the modified plan as Stephen suggested it. Up to and including not letting know either of the two contacts - Father Harris and Father White - about it either. It would be up to Max and Stewart to handle that revelation to the good ministers. Well no. To Father White. The whole point of the ruse was that while he showed up to take the coins at the arranged location and time, Stephen would go hunt down Father Harris at his workplace, ah, cathedral and deliver the package there. Safe and sound, and if anybody decided to strike at them at the meeting place... well, it was usually enough to make clear that the goods weren't there, nor the boss, that most possible attackers didn't even go with the plan. Yeah, the priest would not be enthused about the situation.

Tough.

His skin might get saved by that, even if, hopefully, it wouldn't be something he'd need to appreciate by having to face an attack.

Nothing here. Move on.

Was it overkill, for two, maybe... three old, dusty coins?

Possibly. Then again, those were Fallen Angels that they were dealing with. Perhaps each security measure made sense.

Thirty pieces of silver. Thirty coins, sullied by betrayal. Each the home of a Fallen Angel. Which, so far, they'd been lucky enough to deal with only on paper.

Like the handwritten sheets that his two kids were finishing as he pulled up at the LaMarck residence so they could pick 'Stephen' up and drive to the meeting point.

The handwritten sheets filled with words about the Order of the Blackened Denarius. The, so to speak, third party that might be interested in today's delivery. Maybe they'd miss it. Maybe they'd taken precautions enough. But ...

But their numbers were dwindling, with more and more wizards, wardens and not, aware of what needed to be done; and with the Vampire War now behind them, even the reactionary wizarding machine was turning ever so slowly to pay attention to other... minor, or not so much, irritants. And while it all wasn't fool-safe - the coins had changed hands enough times to reassure anybody about that - their numbers were dwindling. That is to say, they were having fewer chances to find hosts mostly because their coins ended up trapped somewhere that nobody, or they were trying for nobody at least, would be tempted by their touch, by their whisper. By their demons.

For two thousand years, the coins' residents had wandered free and done their damage. But in little steps, the coins, as far as they could be identified - by the Church, and the Venatori Umbrorum, although Max and Stephen had been agreement which branch of clientsto stick to - had been collected and neutralized. Held locked down. And, for the first time in a long time, the coins that were being held in security tended to more or less stay there.

Which was why possibly the ruse wasn't an overkill.

Max had been there for the conversations. The package would be holding two, three if that had been achived by the time of delivery, coins retrieved from central Asia recently, and would be delivering them for the safe safekeeping of a storage place somewhere near New York. It wasn't clear for certain how any coins were still left, but Max knew that even two would be a dent in the nubers. A dent that he was very comfortable with assisting in the making of.

He parked, then turned around to face Lynn (Matthews) and Rowald (Risko). "All read up? You got all the details?"

"Yes, sir."

The clipped answer was good-natured, though. Camraderie, that's what he'd aimed in training them all. And it had worked.

"You'll not shock out if somebody's hair starts growing longer, sharper, and more mobile all of a sudden? Or anybody sprouting horns and wings?

"No, sir."

He grinned. "Then we're good to go."

Right on time. St--ephen, he mentally corrected himself, walked out the front door, and all three of them moved out of the car for the reshuffling. Risko driving, Lynn shotgun. Max, as per usual, besides his boss.

All in order, so far.

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