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“Yes, well, if we had choices, we would be considering them,” the man on the other side replied in his thick Italian accent. “Sadly, we have none.”
“But it’s a cemetery, Bishop. With all due respect, there aren’t very many places that would be a dumber location for a fight with a lich. The man is surrounded by his own personal waiting army.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes, glad that his commander couldn’t see the expression on his face.
“We cannot attack him in the open in London. We can’t put innocent lives at risk. His house is too secured for us to invade, and it would draw too much attention. Even if he raises some of the dead in Highgate, you have more than enough soldiers to deal with them. And most importantly, you can do it without slaughtering innocents or drawing undue publicity.”
“This is suicide.”
“I—”
Rinaldo cut him off. “Stupid suicide, even, which just makes it worse.”
“I’m aware.”
“I repeat—you’re sending us in after a lich in a cemetery.” He couldn’t help but raise his voice. “That’s like going after a serial bomber in a fireworks factory!”
A heavy sigh.
“This is beyond stupid, even if you do want to protect the locals. Can you at least admit you’re having us do something stupid?”
A long pause. “Are we done?”
Rinaldo grunted. “We’re done.”
“Father. Believe me, I am aware what it’s like to march into situations quite similar to this. But he is, as you’ve said, distracted. Hopefully you will catch him off guard.”
“But an entire squadron—blowing in there and trying to take her will put everyone at risk. We’re going to lose lives.”
“I’m aware.”
“And look, I know she set the vaults on fire, but I don’t like the idea of hurting her. She—”
“I’m aware, Father Lenci. Yet the fact remains that you have your orders, and I expect you to see them through. Marguerite must return to our custody. This is imperative. I’m sorry.” The bishop sighed, and his voice softened. “You know how I hate these heavy-handed measures, but we have no other options, as I said.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll do my best.”
“I’m sure you will. You always do.”
It took everything in Rinaldo not to hurl his phone against the nearby wall and smash it into a thousand little bits. He’d need it. Saying a quick goodbye, he hung up with the bishop and promptly swore loudly.
“That bad?” Ally asked from beside him.
“We’re going in.”
“I figured. Well, might as well get started.” She pushed on the wheels of her chair and headed off in the direction of road that bisected the cemetery into its east and west portions. Several cars’-worth of soldiers were waiting for their orders. Maggie and the necromancer had come in from the north side of the older west portion, and the soldiers had orders to intercept them there.
At least the cemetery would close soon as the sun set. They would create a perimeter, evacuate all the civilians, and hopefully Gideon would be too wrapped up in Maggie to notice.
Rinaldo wrinkled his nose.
He just hoped that wasn’t a literal prediction. Jumping a necromancer in a graveyard was one thing. Jumping a necromancer in a graveyard mid-coitus was another. It might give them an advantage, but he’d prefer to go without that handicap in his favor.
Talk about awkward.
And if what they had managed to overhear in the restaurant via the undercover plants they had placed in the restaurant, the poor bastard had been carrying a torch for her for a very, very long time.
Ally started barking orders at the waiting soldiers, and he couldn’t help but watch her. There was a very large portion of his soul that sympathized with the necromancer. He knew precisely how it felt to be left out in the cold, if for two very different reasons.
Never thought I’d find myself rooting for Dr. Gideon Raithe.
