Interlude

With a partially crushed cup of lukewarm coffee in his hand, Veet sat back on a roadride bench, looking out over the road as it filled with police officers. He took a sip from the paper cup, labeled with Coolage Group along the side, and coughed as the coffee dribbled down his throat before he was ready. Several officers, adorned in black tactical gear and masked behind mirror shielded visors, pushed back several onlookers. It wouldn’t be long before they told him to move on.

“Would you say it all went well?” Veet slid over on the bench as Sal took a seat and drak from a similar paper cup. His flowered shirt and sunglasses made him feel like a completely different person.

“They caught him,” Veet said, “Don’t know if he’s alive or not, but they caught him.”

Sal thumbed his chin. “Doesn't matter if he’s alive or not. They should have what they need.”

“Do you really think this will be enough?”

“It will be,” Sal assured, “They have everything they need now. A victim. A suspect. A strange symbol. It will all lead to one thing, and then, we make our move.” The police scattered out, stretching out their line. Veet and Sal retreated from their bench vantage point.

“What should I tell the others?” Veet asked, tossing his coffee cup onto the side of the road.

“Tell them to keep waiting. We are nearly there.” Sal smiled. “This is fate, Veet. You cannot change fate. It is Amber Vallis’s fate to suffer this. It is John Darcy’s fate to uncover the truth. It is the media’s fate to report the truth. And, it is the Neko’s fate to tear down society once and for all based upon that truth.” He patted Veet’s back. “You and I are cogs, my friend. Fate is the true master. Now come, there is still much to plan for.”