Achak's digs on Capitol Hill are a definite cut above the bolthole in Puyallup. The bugs are scarcer, the couch looks as though it's actually spent more of its life indoors than out, and with all the recent rain he isn't even under water rationing -- though it's probably a good thing that Achak had installed that external filter on the sink. Even the soy food processing unit is in better working order. Still, the tour doesn't take long, most it being spent on explaining that the pitcher in the bathroom is for number two, "Ya know, otherwise, it won't go down," Achak explains with a shrug before trying to text Rusty again. Fraggin' trog dodging me? That doesn't bode well.
The team gets a good night's sleep, and the next morning Sister Rebecca is pleased to find Mercer's wheel's unmolested. Heading down to see Marcus is a terrifying prospect, but she steels herself as best she can before heading down to Saint Mary's. From Marcus' comms there was a chance he wouldn't even be there, right? which would mean all the good sister would have to do is pee in a cup, grab the spell formula -- if approved -- and get back to the team for whatever direction they were headed in next. Exiting the vehicle outside the derelict church leaves a large knot in the back of her throat, though. Of course he'll be there, ostensibly to make sure she's still on the straight and narrow, and of course at great personal sacrifice to himself and his busy schedule.
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer she thinks making her way through the plastiboard doors and shuffling past the line of sprawl-dwellers waiting for breakfast.
"Good sister," Marcus booms down from the landing of a narrow staircase, "Sister Annette will see to your drug test, and we may reconvene in the sacristy, which our most gracious hosts have allowed for my use here."
The indignity of the test would be bad enough without its public declaration, but Romans 12:12 provides some consolation as Rebecca goes through the motions and joins Marcus in the appointed room. It's small, smelling of mothballs and whiskey, and in a corner they have set up an impromptu desk for the traveling man of God out of cement blocks and a cracked door. Marcus sits behind the desk, fiddling with a commlink, and gives a terse sit motion to her without pulling his eyes from the screen. "I see you're bright as always, Sister Rebecca," he says as she finds a place on a folding chair. "almost as if it is your own light and not the lamp of the Word which illuminates your way. How have you found Seattle, good sister?"
"I am, of course, regretful when I inform you that your request the detox formula has been denied. It is the opinion of the elders, and I am not one to question their wisdom, that such a formula would only increase the likelihood that your new. . . friends, would likely fall down a dark path without the natural consequences of their actions to temper their appetites. We won't be finding out any untoward information about you from that little nastiness downstairs, will we? Now, I have looked over your dossiers, such as they are, and they seem a bit lacking. I am to understand that the mission was a success? And yet Stake, as he's called, fell to an unfortunate end afterward. Hmm, most disheartening and troubling. I'm sure there was nothing you could do, and that even a more vigilant operative could not have saved his life, so take heart good sister. I do not fault you for your failure here. Besides, the Lord does work in mysterious ways, and perhaps even this loss could bear the touch of the Almighty's handiwork. If nothing else, this turn of events will make you even more valuable to the lost brothers, er, lost brother. So, it is just you and Achak now?"
Marcus reaches into his pocket and retrieves a crumpled pack of Aztechnology Fillegro's, and lights one with a gold-plated flint lighter. He exhales vigorously, daringly before continuing. "I would like for you to continue working with this Achak. The war against the vampires is ending, good sister. But that leaves many struggles left to fight. And we need to know who will stand with us. Achak, to our knowledge, is an interesting case. A Christian? Maybe. Maybe an apostate. Maybe he still harbors some pagan longings and superstitions. That is what I need you to find out. You won't disappoint again, will you? And then we have Grotto1, a haven for cutthroats and sodomites casting themselves as heroes. Sure, they're geeking zekes, but as you've proven, even you can do that. Think, good sister, of what just the bounties from your recent travails, what a difference those would make in a place like Saint Mary's"
He stubs out his cigarette on the makeshift table before getting to his point. "We have good men and women at our disposal competing for an ever-shrinking number of bounties when it comes to the Infected. You are to use your position within this team to learn as much as you can about the hunter community, to establish who's aims are aligned with the Lord's, and who is collecting their silver for personal enrichment. Who, good sister, will come into our fold and live in the light, and who is lukewarm, who because they have not been either cold nor hot in their righteousness must be spat out from the body of our church." As Marcus nears the end of his rant, he becomes increasingly ecstatic, spittle forming around the corners of his mouth and falling to the table in front of him.
"Go in peace, Sister Rebecca. I trust I will hear from you soon."