The pause is long to her ears, far too long of an indecision.
A sign of weakness? Something more she must shed.
Polished nails tap inaudibly against her thigh, her tongue runs over the inside of her teeth making the slightest quavering grimace on her freakishly perfect lips.
"No, Joseph, Call your troops back."
"But ma'am we have him!" comes the reply over the speaker.
Again her captains helmet camera swivels and centers on his captive. A distinguished elderly gentleman in a tasteful if outdated tweed suit, ten of her 'Omega' Strike team equally spaced and on one knee, guns trained on him. A word from her and they wold fire round after round of specialized incendiary ammunition into his body until there was nothing left but shouldering bone.
He looked nervous, she could destroy him this way. Justicar or no, no-one would walk away from so much firepower.
She knew and he knew.
Though she hadn't met him before a mere handful of nights ago her blood boiled at the very sight of him.
Tremere. Blood thief.
Her sire would doubtless not let this go unquestioned. But there are feuds and there are feuds.
"Call off your men, Joseph, and return to base." her hand clenched where it lay on her thigh.
Josephs turn to hesetate here, then "As you command ma'am."
Over the intercom she could hear guns being holstered and booted feet filing from the museum, she hoped that they didnt leave too much of a mess whilst wondering wether they were smart enough to keep the Justicars childe in custody. Little Alice would be a very good card to have albeit not a nescessity. She would have to see when her troops returned.
"Fiona, sweet, patch me through the museum."
That was the thing when you work with Nosferatu, they are almost as devious as you and are therefore much easier to work with, ayone else would have called her through to the front desk only to be on hold for an hour but not Fiona.
Keeping a close watch on the cameras she waited for only the slightest moment after the Strike Force had left before having the phone next to the Justicar ring.
Almost he was surprised. Almost.
But this little intrusion would be a one and only, but that was fine too.
Sophia didn't like the boredom of predictable enemies.
"You called off your dogs."
"That I did. As it is – we both have bigger problems." To share the information of not? Can she trust him?
Oh, Pah! To her paranoia! In 15minutes he would know from the news-feeds. Best to blurt it like some scared fledgling, fresh information has always been a commodity, best she tell him and he owe her. "Its not just here - its global."
A pause, as if digesting information "I see. It seems we do have bigger problems than each other. I will gather information and contact you again before the night is out."
And if any lines were at all blurred in his conversation, he made it all too clear that this was a frail and brittle cooperation he all but spat the word "Tzimisce." before hanging up.
Her lips twitched into a contented smile.
Yes, he hates it as much as I do.