London. Gabriel's suite in the Heaven & Hell Main Office building. Gabriel, Michael, The Twins, and Quartermaster continue their discussion. Gabriel turns to Quartermaster:

Quartermaster, exactly how much of our system has been compromised?

I . . . well, I don't really know. I just keep track of acquisitions and installations. I don't really understand how all this works.

Gabriel turns to The Twins.

Dorri? Aida? Care to explain?

Dorri and Aida alternate speaking, as if from one voice.

At present, we have powered down our entire wi-fi network and computer system.

Cell phones are still functioning, but we doubt they are secure.

Gabriel looks blank. Michael does not.

Just how up to date are our systems?

We're at least three years out of date. Quartermaster has refused to approve acquisition of newer software and equipment.

And so many of our staff are now tasked with supervising the population of Saved Humans. We lack personnel to oversee updating the phone and data systems.

It is an endless quest. The humans are wily and relentless as their various factions seek to control these systems. They change constantly.

Michael and Gabriel regard Quartermaster with steely gazes. He stands resolute as he replies:

With Armageddon imminent, upgrading the systems would have been an exercise in futility. After all, Metatron is the one ultimately responsible for record-keeping. The computer and phone systems are secondary.

Gabriel sighs.

Let us summon Metatron. Formal dress, please. He's a stickler for ancient protocol.

The five angels walk over to a cabbalistic circle inscribed in the floor before The Portal. As Thrones, Aida and Dorri stand together at the front of the group, each robed in a horse warrior's red silk brocade gown with side slits, gold embroidered high collar and "horse hoof" cuffs, over leggings and boots. Their wings resemble flickering red and gold flames. Michael and Gabriel stand behind them in glittering short white tunics that seem to float in the air, gold sandals with straps twining to their knees, and golden wings. Quartermaster is at the rear, white military jacket, kilt, and spats, wings as clean and sparkling as new snow.

Gabriel waves his hand and lighted candles appear at the vertices of the geometric design. The circle illuminates. A shaft of celestial light appears, containing he disembodied head of Metatron .

You rang?

Metatron. We have temporarily lost the personnel data stored on our computer systems.

Metatron looks insufferably smug.

Indeed. I warned you of the day this might happen. Fortunately my staff continues to update our parchment records daily.

Michael remarks:

Yes, Metatron. We are aware of your continuing efforts. Something that takes up the entire 13th floor is unlikely to escape our notice. How long would it take your staff to convert your records to digital format if it becomes necessary to reconstruct the personnel database?

It took us about seven thousand hours for the initial conversion. You can divide that up among however many angels you like working 24 hours a day. My staff, of course, would not be available for such extra duty.

Metatron continues:

I understand from the Celestial Observer that you have lost the personnel database to an entity, likely a demon, who is demanding a ransom for its restoration.

That is true. Even if we pay the ransom, it is likely that the data will not be restored to us.

But if you do not pay, the data will definitely not be restored. Pay the ransom. Human money means nothing to us. And by the way, Aida and Dorri. Spending hours engaged in sex is an inefficient use of your managerial time.

Metatron vanishes and the cabbalistic circle goes dark.

The angels resume their daily dress. Aida and Dorri morph from aghast to indignant. Gabriel is furious.

We will not pay Demon Crowley ten million pounds! That is not on the table! And you two! How could you be desecrating your celestial bodies! Forget the Tadfield mission, you're going to Housekeeping.

Before The Twins can retort, Michael interrupts:

Gabriel, you know how tight our staffing situation is. All those humans pouring in from Earth. We're adding another floor just for this upcoming year alone. Pay the ransom. It's a chance we'll just have to take.

The phones inside the pockets of The Twins and Gabriel chime. The Twins are puzzled, as they thought they had muted their phones. Gabriel never mutes his. Pulls it out and opens the connection, listening on his earplug. His gaze mutates from annoyance to dead serious as he gazes at what appears on his screen. The Twins' eyes widen. When the caller disconnects, they lock eyes with Gabriel.

Fucking Hell. Delete that. Now.

The Twins and Gabriel tap their phones.

In fact, give me your phones.

The twins hand Gabriel their phones. He clenches them in his fists. The phones melt into glowing smoke that dissipates in a whiff of incense. He walks over to his desk and sits.

Dorri. Aida. Forget what I said about Housekeeping. You're going to China to assist Xuanwu in opposing the demon Daji and protecting our staff there. Michael, Quartermaster, respond to the ransom request and make arrangements to transfer the ten million pounds. Now leave me.

London. Bohdan's lab inside Triple S Security. Bohdan and Evgeny are listening to the ongoing conversation in Gabriel's office. Bohdan smirks:

They have no clue. Where is Crowley, anyway? He should be listening to all this.

Off fucking his angel, no doubt. But I think he will agree with what we do next. Let us make that angel Gabriel an offer he cannot refuse. Show me that video from the Tadfield hall.

Bohdan cues up the video recording from Beelzebub's midnight visit to the Tadfield parish hall. A wolfish grin appears on Evgeny's face. There is no trace of amusement in his eyes.

Yes. You have the numbers for Gabriel and those two Asian women angels? Send them a clip.

Bohdan moves the slider on the video to where Beelzebub caresses the penis of the golden statue of Michael:

"How you longed for my touch! But I am Lucifer's. You can never have me. He alone is whom I love."

From here to here?

Yes. Good.

Bohdan taps keys and quickly extracts them from his phone logs database. More typing, and an emergency ringtone is pushed through.

Once the four angels have gone their separate ways outside Gabriel's office suite, Michael goes to her desk and opens her laptop. Attempts to access the phone logs file. Disconnects in disgust as "TEN MILLION POUNDS" appears in a satanic red script on her screen.