Chapter 29.

WASHINGTON, D.C.

(3:17 A.M./EST)

The figure in the black-hooded robe waited just inside the storm drain that looked out upon the Potomac River. Growling with ever-mounting impatience. Finally, however, his contact arrived. The arrival preceded by an opaque blur of white. And, what seemingly emerged from that blur was a young, blond-haired man wearing a khaki trench coat with what appeared to be a yellow-and-black striped sash.

There was another blur, of shorter duration. Following which, a creature that looked like a brown-robed hobbit, with leprosy, was standing to the left of the young man! A sight that prompted the impatient figure to lower its hood.

Thereby revealing the red, scaly countenance of a Toth demon.

The latter glared and snarled for a few moments.

"Tothric wants to know what took you so long?" Hobart the Goblin translated.

"Tell him I was slowed down by having to carry a bat-eared monkey on my back! Not to mention this tow rope, and these overgrown tongue depressors!"

Tothric snarled a few more times.

"He says Her Gloriousness does not care for excuses. Only successful results within the deadline allotted us."

"Fine! If he's in such an all-fired hurry, tell him to shut up and put these on. Right now!"

"These" turned to out to be a pair of water skis that Sarpedon the Celerity Demon threw to the ground with all the bitter anger he could muster. And, on to which the Toth demon-somewhat awkwardly-placed his feet. Prompting Sarpedon to look at Hobart.

"You know you're on your own from this point."

The goblin nodded: "Don't worry about me. I shall simply make my way to Dulles International Airport, and stow away aboard the first cargo jet bound for the West Coast."

It was at this point that Sarpedon twirled about, once more. Unwinding almost all the tow rope in the process.

"Here," he said to Tothric: "Hang on to this."

"This" turned out to be the wooden cross bar of a trapeze-like triangle. And, no sooner had the Toth demon complied than Sarpedon was racing downstream!

Moments later, he was in the mid-North Atlantic. Heading southeastward, towards the Equator and the Cape of Good Hope, with the Toth demon literally in his wake.

MEANWHILE, BACK IN SAN FRANCISCO...

Lee Pow IV paced nervously, back and forth, in his office at the Purple Dragon Restaurant. His nervousness easing only when one of his henchmen knocked on the office door, to report the arrival of the Assamite!

"Thank Goodness!" he exclaimed: "When I overheard some of those police talking about you having killed yoursel..."

He stopped, when he saw the image of Sonny Toussaint in front of him.

"Wh-Why are you still bearing that Ventrue's likeness?"

"It seemed the fastest way to get _this_ out of police hands during the aftermath of that fracas at the Haven."

The Assamite indicated the Medallion of the Scarred Foot, dangling from his right hand. A sight that made Lee Pow IV smile...like a little boy opening his very first Christmas present, all on his own. But, the moment he tried to take it, the Assamite raised his right arm out of the tong leader's reach!

"Wh-Wh-What is the meaning of this?"

"You double-crossed me, Lee. You hired other kuei-jin to try and get this back! I don't appreciate that. So, we're going to have re-negotiate our contract."

The tong leader glared at him:

"We are not re-negotiating _anything_! The sum of money I paid you and Ethan Rayne, up front, is more-than-considerable. Not one penny more will you get from me!"

Whereupon, the "Assamite" withdrew a cellphone, on "speaker" mode, from his left jacket pocket.

"You get all that, Julian?"

"Loud and clear, Sonny. You know what to do."

The death scream of Lee Pow IV was shrill. But, mercifully short.

tbc