Even between the two of them, it was still a much longer walk back than it was a flight. By the time they had arrived, Hasan was already on the scene. The first thing Liam noticed was that everyone was in a state of undress. Robyn and Hasan were in their skivvies, and Jacob appeared to be completely stripped beneath his damaged armor. Some of the refugees still huddled in the truck, but many were taking the time to stretch their legs, wearing very little clothing, all donated from the others. Including Liam's new clothes from the trunk.

Pockets was laid out near the deuce, with Robyn knelt beside her. Hasan and Jacob were conversing, and were the first to notice Liam's return.

"There you are," Hasan said. He pulled them both,one by one, into an embrace. "I'm glad to see you both made it out alive." He looked upon the face of the sleeping giant. "Liam, you have a talent for digging up ghosts, my friend."

"Excuse me," Mik said. "I did most of the actual digging, thank you. But Liam knew where to look, so credit where credit is due."

Hasan sighed. "Maybe this'll be enough to bring Trent back home."

"It helps if you were the one who buried them," Liam said looking down at Tyr. Hasan had a point though. Old ghosts had a way of following Liam around.

"I got there as they were leaving the bunker. The Tremere dumped Tyr inside to burn. As soon as it was clear I climbed down inside to get him, and let me tell you getting him up that ladder was no treat."

"I couldn't get him out of the woods before dawn, so I did the next best thing and buried him. I figured they'd be watching to see if any of us came back so I let it lie. Ten years seems like long enough."

"I think we have just enough reserves from the last bloodmobile heist to get him on his feet," Jacob said.

"We'll take him with us after we drop off these guys," Hasan said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the truck. He looked down at the city below, swarming with activity. "Might take us a couple of days to get back to the hideout though."

“I’ll trust he’ll be in good hands,” Liam said, turning to look as well. “What is the plan for them?” he asked, nodding towards the emancipated persons mulling around the transport. “It’s not safe for them to go back.”

"Uh, good question," Hasan said. "And the best of luck as you figure it out. It was Ms. Bossy Britches' idea to free them, so I fit that into the category of things that aren't my problem."

"I'll talk to Robyn," Liam said, glancing in her direction. After a moment he started that way and dropped to a knee close beside her, looking over Pockets with concern. Liam said nothing at all at first, simply watching Robyn work.

Robyn seemed uncomfortable working with an audience. She took a deep breath as Liam knelt near her.

"She's bad," Robyn said. "I've learned a lot about vampire physiology in my work, and none of what I'm seeing makes sense. These bulletholes should be closing right up. They're just... Not. I can't get much of a read on her, either. I think what we're looking at here is some kind of binding curse. Christ, what I wouldn't give to have Maeve around right now." She looked up at Liam. "I can't do much about stopping the blood flow besides keep pluggin' em with tampons. And I'm running out. What she really needs is a surgeon."

“Well,” Liam said after a few moments, his face lined with concern. “I only know one surgeon. Good news is he’s the best there is.”

Bad news was he liked his privacy and had a standing army at his beck and call to guarantee it.

“If he’s going to open his doors for anyone in the city it’s probably me.” This was a big IF, Liam realized. “Good thing he likes a challenge.”

“Feel like one last drive tonight?”

The Iron Graveyard was likely the only place in the city that was not crawling with mooks at the moment.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:49, Sat 04 July 2020.

"Looks like we are going home tonight," Hasan said. "We are far safer driving around the city and leaving the cop car up on the ridge. If you don't want to get shot on sight, that is. The Redwatch barely patrol there, between us and Corr. Not worth the resources. But it also means that disguise is a liability."

"I doubt I'm getting my uniform back tonight anyway," Robyn said.

"I'll stay here and protect these people 'til you get back," Mik said. "I don't know how happy they'll be to see me, but maybe I can knit a few ponchos as an icebreaker."

Robyn stood, and stretched her back. "All right, I think I figured out how to get us all to fit. You three, give me a hand with Magilla Gorilla here. Liam, please give Pockets a couple pints. We've all pitched in, and I don't want to know what happens if she goes torpid like this."

“I’d rather not find out,” Liam said, opening a vein on his wrist with his fang and holding it to Pockets’ lips. He was prepared to give two pints and more - whatever was necessary to get her to Corr’s ‘alive’, so long as he still had the strength to carry her there. As soon as this was done he offered whatever assistance Hasan needed in moving Tyr.

“Everyone ready?” He asked.

"As we'll ever be," Robyn said. They had tied Tyr to the roof of the cruiser. Hasan saw to it that nobody caught the spectacle, and they had very little in the way of traffic on the logging road that wound up Taben's Ridge. Then an alarmingly steep descent down the old access road for what had once been Verdant Falls' booming industrial sector. The Keisinger administration had not been kind to this part of town. Then again, this part of town had not been kind to him. It stood now as a monument to the resistance. The broken ribcage from which he had torn the beating heart of the First Rebellion.

As Liam's gaze inevitably fell upon the old mining facility, its silhouette shifted in the dark. Then swelled. Then sprouted ghastly, gigantic arms. They truly nb nnu were waking everyone.

"Huh," Robyn said as she drove. "How 'bout that?"

Liam left his bolt action pistol with Mik before leaving. He was not about to stroll into Valcius Corr's facility armed, and Mik might have need of it if he intended to stay behind and protect the people they had freed.

Its not much, but Liam had 6x 30.06 Winchester special rounds and 2 incendiaries. Mik could blow quite a hole into something with that.

The Iron Graveyard looked much the same as when they had toured it earlier that evening - that was until they reached the Peters-Marsden facility. Liam had seen the creature that dwelled in the deepest reaches of the mines before. He had reached out and touched its chitinous carapace replete with spines as Chianna had gazed on with what could only be viewed as love. But always before he had seen it slumbering. Its potential. To see it now walking upon the ground was to realise a nightmare made flesh.

He watched it in silence for a few moments before his mind wandered to frightful conclusions.

"You know..." he said slowly. "One squirt from this bottle and that thing doesn't belong to Keisinger anymore."

"It doesn't belong.... to anyone."

"Something that big, you'd need a bit more than a squirt," Robyn said. "Maybe a litre."

"I think our chances of getting preemptively shot by one of Corr's patrols has slimmed down to none," Hasan said. "Better just to drive on."

They parked the car under cover in a rusted out machine shop, and they prepared to part ways. One of Corr's old entrances was a short walk away. Jacob and Hasan were looking as ragged as Liam, but they were both smiling. The weight of what they'd accomplished was beginning to set in.

"Well, Liam, good first night back, if I don't say so myself," Hasan said. "Nice meeting you, Robyn."

"Yeah," Liam replied. "No kidding. I'll hold off celebrating until Pockets is patched up though. You two can manage Tyr from here?"

"We can," Jacob said. "Not sure how happy he'll be to see us, so we might sleep on it first."

"Let me know when you're home safe," Hasan said to Liam. "You know how to reach me."

"Goodnight you two," Robyn said. "I won't say it was nice meeting you, because it wasn't. Let's hope the next time's better."

With that, they disappeared into the night. The three of them were alone. They strode toward Corr's place under cover of the urban decay. The massive vozhd would be difficult to outrun, but it was exceptionally easy to avoid.

"So, uh, I'm guessing this doctor friend of yours isn't licensed." Robyn said as they walked.

"No," Liam replied with a shake of his head. Pockets felt like a doll draped across his arms, her weight almost negligible. The last time he had showed up at Corr's door in the dead of night with a patient in critical condition it had been Rick, and it was months before Rick left these walls again.

"We should probably go over the ground rules. Doctor Corr has sole dominion within his facility. There's a reason why Keisinger's reach ends at his doors."

"Be polite. I'd say that this goes without saying, but you'd be surprised how many people need to hear it said. You needn't be obsequious but remember we are in his house."

"Always assume you are being watched, because you are. We're probably being watched right now."

"Doctor Corr is not a philanthropist and believe me when I say that he does not need the money. He will not take just any patient. He likes interesting patients. He does not care for Vampires in particular, but he likes working on us," he said, thinking back to Sophie with no small amount of regret. "If I don't get turned back at the door I'm fairly certain he'll take Pockets, and if we're lucky he'll take her on for the intellectual pursuit alone. That's the best case."

"Sounds like a fun guy," Robyn said. "Now let me be clear. We're only going to this guy for a patch job. If anyone is tinkering with her metaphysics, it's gonna be me."

They stopped in front of a graffiti-tagged section of an incomplete overpass. One of Corr's many entrances. Some new ones doubtlessly existed, and some old ones may be closed off, but they were all of them watched.

There was no noise save for the stamping and groaning of the massive hulk as it stepped through the iron graveyard. Its underside was covered in scales and eyes. It was far enough away that it wasn't a threat, though Liam had no idea how quickly it could move.

"For fuck's sake, O'Farrell," a mechanically disguised voice said. A floating face appeared out of nowhere as the woman lifted her visor. Liam recognized her as Crowe, one of Corr's elite footsoldiers. She looked a little older and a great deal more grizzled. "What did you do?"

“Hey, how do you know it was us?” Liam asked in deadpan defensiveness. After a moment his facade broke and he lapsed into a grin. “Okay, obviously it was us. Somehow or other I always get talked into these things.”

“We blew up their main research facility at the university. Along with most of their top researchers. The blood stockpile. A hefty portion of their garrison. Oh, and a helicopter! That’s going to be hard to replace.”

“They’re going to be cleaning up for weeks, and the hit to their knowledge base will put them back months if not longer.”

"And here I am with my thumb up my ass half the time," Crowe said, shaking her head. "Remind me never to piss you off." She looked Robyn over, and smiled. "That doesn't explain why she's in her underwear."

"I gave my pants to a naked old man," Robyn said matter-of-factly.

Crowe laughed, and pulled her visor back down. "Go on in," she said. The concrete wall parted, revealing a large elevator. A gurney was waiting for them when they arrived. As was the good Doctor.

"Good evening, Mr. O'Farrell," Dr. Corr said. "Keeping well?"

“Good evening to you as well, Dr. Corr. I’m as well as one can hope for after an eventful evening,” Liam answered truthfully If somewhat mildly. “Certainly nothing that a couple of nights sleep won’t cure me from.”

“My friend here was less fortunate. She took a burst from some unusual munitions. Since then she’s been bleeding freely, and we’ve had to top her off repeatedly.”

He glanced at Robyn briefly before turning back to Corr. “If we don’t stem the source, it will hardly matter what else is afflicting her and this is well beyond my limited field medic ability. Could you please help her, Doctor?”

"You want me to sow her bulletholes," Corr said, unimpressed. He typed on a tablet as he spoke. "You do realize this is like asking Da Vinci for help painting your deck. I trust these unusual munitions belong to the Tremere?" As they loaded Pockets on the gurney, he looked Robyn over.

"I don't know you," he said.

"Robyn Rowe," Robyn replied, offering her hand. They were covered in Pockets' blood. She put it down again.

"Well, Ms. Rowe," said Dr. Corr. "We have a strict dress code in this facility. You'll have to put on some clothes."

He held the tablet over Pockets, and the display showed various indecipherable readings and bits of information. "Now Mr. O'Farrell, tell me everything you know about what hit her."

"They are Tremere rounds," Liam confirmed. "I had a very limited view of the exchange. Pockets felt unwell at once and lost consciousness shortly afterwards. She was the only one of us to sustain such an injury."

"I'm afraid I don't know much else. Robyn has been labouring to keep her alive since we reconvened and realised that Pockets was seemingly unable to heal the wounds of her own accord."

"Mm," Corr said, not really listening. "There's nothing to suggest that there's anything out of the ordinary about these wounds. The problem is her. There is something preventing her innate deviant abilities from manifesting. If you leave her with me, I can do my best to determine the cause."

"We're really just looking for help with closing the physical wounds," Robyn said. Corr gave her a withering stare.

"Well, I suppose I should be flattered you chose me over a red hot poker," Corr said dryly. "So you've come to me asking for help that is beneath my ability, meanwhile presenting me with a medical mystery you do not wish me to solve. The question I would pose to you is: if you're going to insult me, then why should I help?"

Liam took a deep breath. In theory he'd found himself in tighter spots this night already, but at the moment the room seemed very narrow and the air seemed awfully thin, even for someone who did not have need of it.

He thought about asking Robyn for a moment alone, but it hardly mattered. There was no such thing as alone in Corr's facility. Even if he thought he was playing his cards close to his breast he may as well have been playing them with an open hand on the table.

As he spoke he looked from Valcius to Robyn and back again.

"I did not come here to insult you, Doctor Corr, and I apologise if I have. I came to save Pockets and that remains my primary, vested interest. I came because you are the best and only hope she has to survive the night," he continued, looking at Robyn though he was ostensibly addressing the good Doctor.

"Ms. Rowe is protective of Pockets," he said, now looking back at Valcius and feeling the need to come to Robyn's defence. "She is a gifted healer in her own right, though perhaps not with a scalpel or cautery. I walked out of a fire yesterday that ought to have killed me and she put me back together. She knows Vampire physiology and she also can't make sense of what's happened here." Liam waved at Pockets as she lay ashen and still.

"Robyn is equally keen to solve the mystery. Truly you would do better to ask her about the injuries Pockets sustained than me."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:11, Sun 05 July 2020.

Corr looked at Liam in the same way a parent might address a stubborn child. "I am well aware of Ms. Rowe's 'gifts'," he said. "But I do not collaborate with dabblers. The patient stays with me. I will cure her, and release her when I have completed my analyses. Those are my terms."

That was enough for Robyn. She'd taken plenty of what the night threw at her in stride, but she was past her limit and not in the mood to be condescended to. "Listen, you puffed-up, pompous, pontificating prick," Robyn said, stepping toe to toe with the doctor. She jabbed a finger on his chest. "That girl just did more to end the Tremere Fugue in one night than you've managed to do in ten years. So when the shit goes down; when all the secrets and lies are brought kicking and screaming into the light, how do you want to be remembered?"

"Really now, with whom do you think you're dealing?" Corr replied. "Do I look like someone who's concerned with public opinion? My time is valuable. So unless you have something valuable to offer in exchange, I suggest that you walk right back into that elevator."