Irons woke from the depths of a troubled sleep. The witchblade marks on his hand itched uncontrollably and his mouth felt as though it were packed in sand. Reaching across to the small night table, he picked up the tiny glass of water and downed it. His dreams had been filled of fire and blood, the images provoking feelings that he had successfully suppressed for numerous years. As he tried to sort through the myriad fragments from his dream he became aware of a familiar presence within his room.
"You have a visitor sir." Nottingham's voice issued softly from his place at the end of his bed. "From the mayors office."
"Ahh.. I presume about the arrangements for this evening." Irons put away his discomfort and pulled himself out of bed.
"Yes sir." Ian replied in a neutral tone, wondering just what his master had been dreaming about. He had only felt echoes of the blade induced visions yet they had been strange enough. Irons caught his wondering look and raised one elegant eyebrow.
"If it becomes necessary for you to know my thoughts Ian, I will inform you." The gentle chiding tone made Ian bow his head as Irons pulled a heavy dressing gown over his pajamas. "Kindly inform my visitor that I will be down soon."
Dressing swiftly, Irons left his room and moved downstairs into his study. In the grate, the ever present fire crackled warmly and he nodded politely at the man stood waiting.
"Mr Irons, my name is Lawrence Shriver. I'm the security attache from the mayors office." The man began in a breathless tone as Irons lowered himself into a chair and regarded him with hooded eyes. "I've been asked to talk with you about the security arrangements for tonight."
"Indeed." Irons settled back against the seat and stared at his visitor with bland disinterest. "Is there a problem with my security?" The question was mildly put, yet the man jumped as though he had been shot. It was becoming clear that the man had been briefed to not upset him.
"Oh no sir." The attache continued, "but we would like to see some representation from NYPD here." His voice was hurried and he kept shifting his feet. Irons smiled lightly, enjoying the man's discomfort.
"I see." He reached out a hand and picked up the seemingly everpresent cup of tea from the round table beside him. "Do you wish a full uniformed retinue?"
"Well.. yes.. the mayor would like several attendees in uniform."
"Ah.." Irons took a sip of the strong tea and gazed over at the young man. Beneath the young, slightly nervous face, was a body swathed in a slightly ill fitting suit. it seems like standards are slipping everywhere. Irons thought to himself as he swallowed the mouthful of Earl Grey.
"Very well!" he finally said, deciding that it was time to put the young man out of his misery. "You may bring in your people, but I don't want them everywhere."
"Oh no sir, it's merely cosmetic." The man seemed relieved that his ordeal was over and he turned to face the door.
"Mr Shriver!" Kenneth's voice sounded clearly across the room. "May I request that Sara Pezzini be one of the officers present?" If he had to take police at his home, she may as well be here.
"That should be fine." The man nodded animatedly and left his company with a huge sigh of relief. Smiling at the pleasure affforded by this distraction, Irons returned to his contemplation of his dream that morning. He would have to quiz Sara this evening about whether she too had heard from the blade. It seemed that something just might be on its way.