The sun was barely rising above Richmond. Cowering over the city, hanging mercilessly slow. Hovering as though it understood its place. As though it knew its part in it all. 16th street was silent. Horns honking in the distance. Somewhere far beyond the walls of The Jefferson a woman screamed, a child wailed as he was pulled from his peaceful slumber. The soldiers were ending their patrol. Silently wrapping up their nighthly sweep.
Inside room 262 a portly Englishman paced, back and forth, back and forth. Swaying slightly from side to side as he balanced himself against the wall and settled in. Three dark suited Gentleman sat around him. Staring forcefully, hopeful. “A Drink perhaps?” In perfect unison the dark suited gentlemen shook their heads. “This can’t be won.” He continues. “You, no doubt, have brought me here for my knowledge. But this cant be won sir.”
“I’ve fought wars my English Friend,” The superior suit rises from the sofa and walks closer to the drunken Englishman. “Dr Kyle, the times we are seeing.” He shakes his head. “they are the most desperate I have ever seen…WE have ever seen. But this is no war. The Priory sent you. They sent you because you know her. You’ve studied her. Somewhere inside you know how to stop this.” The Englishman laughs, a maniacal sort of sound against the quietness of the room.