Chapter 14: The unpleasant truth:
Arlene threw up three times after entering the house.
Each time, she forced herself to go back inside.
The Watchman, though grim, was not unaffected by the situation either.
He apologised for bringing her here- but, asked that she try to identify anything missing that might've been taken as part of the attack.
The house had been ransacked, but that wasn't nearly the worst part.
The worst part was the dining room.
The stains.
The outlines.
The smell.
The only small mercy was, as the sergeant pointed out, that the rest of his body wasn't present.
Since they hadn't exactly been subtle about this, and clearly had prioritised speed above everything else, had they intended to kill him they probably would have left the body behind.
"Where do you think they would've taken him?" Harper asked the Watchman, her voice strained but calm.
"If I knew that, I wouldn't be standing here. We estimate that the time this happened was about three days ago, in the early morning. From what we can piece together, he was gagged, interrogated while this place was ransacked- see the ink on the table? They had him writing out his answers.
With your side of the story, I believe that once he admitted the bag was in his daughters possession, they took him away. They'd been cutting repeatedly at one leg- when they were done they cauterised what was left before they went." The mans voice was level and even, but a certain cold fury leaked out with every word.
"The men in suits, do you have any ideas what country they'd be from?" Harper was hopeful- this was the Watch after all. Unfortunately the man shook his head.
"Before you were born there was a country that dressed it's agents like that. Once other nations caught on, they started imitating them to shift blame onto that country. There's a lesson there. If you can tell a spy is a spy, then what's the damn point?"
"Then why are these-"
"Probably as a ruse for their escape. Once they have what they want, they'll ditch the suits and go incognito. Moreover, if we start combing the city looking for men dressed like that, firstly, anyone we wrongfully hold up will give us a time of it. Secondly, one of their accomplices who's keeping watch dressed up like an ordinary fella will just have everyone change wardrobes. When their dress is so distinctive, you remember it, but not the men wearing it."
Harper pondered this, feeling rather sceptical-
"Point in case, you've been calling them 'the men in suits' but, if one had been watching us leave the station dressed as a gas fitter, would you have been able to tell?"
"... But then anyone could be one of them!"
"Exactly."
"So how do we find them before they find us?"
"You can't, not reliably."
"... What do we do then?"
"Well, they're in the same boat really. Right now they don't have time, so they don't know your name. Given a week they could probably figure that out by checking around Lumiere. All they really know right now is what you look like and where you are. If you really want to avoid them, you could leave the country, change your name and adopt a disguise. To be frank, that's probably what her grandfather did, and it's what I'm informally encouraging both of you to do."
Harper paled, "So, what, we just go into hiding? Forever?"
"That's a knotty one. If they get what they're looking for, then, they'll stop. Probably. However they'll then kill her father, since he's no longer good as a bargaining chip."
"So we trade for him?"
"I said it was a knotty one. Around the time of the crime, a steam-car was stolen and then later found dumped outside the city. While it could be a ruse, I suspect they moved him out and changed vehicles. Since we can't be sure how far away he's been moved, we can't know whether any offer for a trade is actually genuine or simply bait. She'll have to sign a few forms at the station and leave the stone with us, we'll conduct hostage negotiations on her behalf."
"I see. I'm glad the law is on our side at least. So where should we go?"
"I'll escort you to the station, and then you'll have to figure that out for yourselves. For what it's worth while I don't like Dawson, Paravel wouldn't be a bad destination."
Arlene rejoined them.
"I think after I sign the papers, I'd like to go to the Paravel embassy. Please."
Harper hesitated, and then took her friend's hand and squeezed it.
"Don't worry. It'll be alright- you'll see."
She'd come to regret those words very soon.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
urza
urza A friend got me into Warhammer and painting.
-_-; Didn't mean to let this lapse so long.
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