Prologue
The sun had disappeared hours ago, and the last employee of the small airport had gone home not long after. The lights coming out from under the hanger door didn't belong to any employee. Inside the cavernous hanger, there stood a fairly large group, men and women, dressed in everything from slashed jeans and t-shirts to jackets and ties. There was nothing that would have marked them as any type of organized group, but they were here for a purpose. Their leader, a tall, thin man in a dark suit, was standing at the head of the crowd.
"For nearly a century, the Camarilla has held this region tight in its grasp. Chicago, Indianapolis, Kansas City, St. Louis. All are firmly in the grasp of our enemies. We could never take those cities without a blood-war big enough to draw too much attention to us. While the foolish Masquerade of the Camarilla is a waste of time, drawing every eye in the world is not the best course.
"Instead, we will start here. The four cities I name form the points of a diamond of support, a crystalline bond of haven and safe passage for the Camarilla. Diamonds, it is said, are nearly indestructible. But I will lead you to drive a wedge into the heart of that diamond - right here – that will lead to the fracture of the Camarilla and lead to a new stronghold of the Sabbat!"
Forty voices cheered as one. It was a measure of the man's popularity that so many disparate individuals came together under his banner. He made his way through the crowd, speaking a few words here, and handshake or clap on the shoulder there, working to affirm his position. When he was through, he turned to his lieutenant.
"Where's Jarrod Kale? I know he was here, I greeted him when he arrived."
The lieutenant shrugged, but assured his Bishop that young Kale would be found.