It was a long drive to Maine. According to Pockets, it would take about 10 hours, and thus necessitate a stopover. She even picked out a no-tell motel on the edge of Woodstock, New Brunswick, that would make for an ideal stopping point. It was a mere half-hour from the border. An hour if they chose to take the smaller crossing at Fosterville, which Pockets strongly suggested they do.

Pockets had equipped them well for the journey, however. In a scant seven days, she had acquired credentials that were not forgeries, but genuine credit cards and government-issue passports and driver's licenses generated urgently for false identities she'd had in her fraudulent repertoire for many years.

Liam was traveling as James Westfall, an employee of Health Canada's Verdant Falls branch. Jacob had assumed the identity of Dr. Kenneth Noisewater, a medical researcher at VFU. Their visit, ostensibly, was to visit a research facility in Massachusetts run by BioNTech; a company Pockets had identified as a front-runner in the development of a COVID-19 vaccine. She had even hacked into the company's phone systems and forwarded an unused extension to one of her burner phones, should border services attempt to corroborate the story.

She told them all this as she drove them to Campbellton, where a used vehicle was waiting for them, purchased under James Westfall's name. Traffic along the route would have been light in ideal times, and control measures had made them even lighter.

The ride in question was a gently-used Chevy Impala. Pockets had made sure the vehicle was equipped with cruise control, so they could be sure to stay within the speed limits and avoid any unnecessary entanglements with the law. Jacob and Liam drive in shifts, and kept the conversation light. Even with his skill in Domination, Jacob was apprehensive about crossing the border. Lighter traffic meant increased scrutiny, and even at a small crossing there would be cameras.

The stay in the motel was mercifully short, and Liam was sure the two of them had ghouled an entire generation of bedbugs during the day. The border station was a tiny building at the side of a short two-lane bridge. The border guards were genuinely surprised to see anyone at all, but the official nature of their mission dazzled them into speedy compliance. They were instructed to stay isolated in the US, and to observe a 14-day quarantine upon their return. They didn't even call Pockets.

Once they were across the border, Jacob began to relax, and they could finally focus on the mission ahead. Using Liam's phone, he texted their imminent arrival in Bangor to their Gangrel hosts. As they awaited a response, Jacob piped up.

"I know I'm the diplomat," Jacob said. "But I'm going to let you take the lead on this one. They're your people. And I guess I'm not officially the leader of anything anymore, unless you count our remaining band of insurgents."

"I figured as much," Liam said. "Thankfully the Gift of Gab comes my way naturally, and not through my blood or we'd be in trouble," he added with a smirk.

"I'm glad you've come along all the same. This hasn't been easy," he said.

Liam fanned the fingers of one hand wide and turned his palm outward. "I keep hoping something will be different, but nothing changes. I feel stuck. Locked in."

"The one thing I don't feel though is hungry. The Beast is silent. So I guess there's something."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:18, Fri 01 Jan 2021.

"I wish I had that problem," Jacob said, shifting in his seat. He reached into his left jacket pocket, and held an object inside it. "When I think of all that we lost. Who we lost. What Ambrose took from all of us. But what tortures me the most is how much of it was my fault."

He stared straight ahead at the pitch-black road that cut its way sinuously through the rocks and trees. "The grief, and the rage - It's a wonder I haven't lost my humanity altogether. Then again, being utterly consumed by your regrets is perhaps the most human condition I can think of."