London. Crowley's Mayfair flat. He and Aziraphale continue their discussion of the Disposable Demons.
Singing and dancing aside, Aziraphale, I can't say I'm thrilled about Beelzebub's saddling me with 50 young demons of excitable outlook.
Crowley folds forward, rubs his hands over his face and through his hair.
Crowley. Let me massage your feet. You're stressing.
The demon simultaneously flicks his hand to change into his silk dressing gown and writhes around to lie with his back on the carpet and his feet atop the black pillow the angel has placed in his lap. Aziraphale works Crowley into a relaxed noodle as they continue to chat.
Crowley, just what _are_ you going to do with 50 demon scamps let loose in London?
I sent them to rally for the time being at Leysa's training headquarters in Vale of Health. Met them there for a brief review.
Vale of Health? Isn't that where the council was contesting some development of an old traveller's caravan camp? And they're making that woman tear down her cabin?
Yep. I've been renovating some properties there for the past decade. The caravan camp and nearby woodland make it a nearly perfect hideout.
I wonder how the residents would feel if they knew their posh neighborhood was being turned into a haven for demons and . . . well, I hesitate to use the word "criminals," Crowley. How would you describe your enterprise?
"Criminal" works just fine. I'm a demon, Aziraphale. Remember? But to answer your initial question, the disposable platoon has already been in London for a bit. Beelzebub had dispatched them to locate and trail me. So they already have some ability to navigate.
Ah. So that's how DeeDee found you in the pub when The Twins showed up to arrest me.
Yep. They're a tough little bunch. No complaints about living rough. And they make good use of their phones to share info. Daji had no idea what she'd unleashed with that one.
Artful Dodgers, would you say?
And then some. You're of course familiar with DeeDee's party trick of floating through walls. I sent a squad of her off to steal a shipment of 50 new Samsung phones from a warehouse.
Really, Crowley. That's a theft of 50 thousand pounds.
I didn't tell them that it was our warehouse and the phones were already paid for. A practice mission to test our CCTV tracking app.
See see tee vee tracking app?
Maps the locations of those surveillance cameras that the Met have set up all around London. Also private security cams. Useful info to know if you're trying to be evasive. Simple lurking in shadows is so last millennium.
I read that they're going to implement facial recognition with these cameras?
Yep. That ought to be fun, when most of my little platoon are clones and look identical.
Are they all Erics and DeeDees?
About half. The rest are a mix of a generic Asian and a brown-skin-black-hair type that could fit in most anywhere. We did a brief review of how to dress in dark colors to blend in with a neighborhood without drawing attention. Basic rules for petty theft if they want to adjust their wardrobes. Humans can be quite vindictive about that sort of thing.
I suppose so. I know how outraged I feel when someone attempts to pilfer a book.
At least you don't resort to violence, as humans do. They turn it on quickly, too.
Yes. Volatile in the extreme if the right buttons are pushed.
I asked how many of the platoon had been discorporated by a human when they were in London surveilling me.
Quite a few?
About a half dozen. They were ashamed to raise their hands. Until I raised mine as well. That cheered them up a fair bit. So we had a little discussion of what to be alert for. The importance of going about in pairs. How to apply effective retribution without maiming or death.
Whence the squeamishness about maiming and death?
Attracts attention. The objective is to do just enough damage to deter, but not elicit a police report. My Eric and DeeDee bodyguards said they have a fair amount of information to share about defensive retribution. So I told them to conduct a group discussion for that purpose after I'd gone. Then I brought up the rats.
Rats? Oh good lord.
Most useful creatures. You're never far from a rat in London. Treat them right, and they become a decent emergency network.
I simply must know. Exactly how does one treat a rat right?
Well, you have to learn their calls, for starters. Takes a bit of practice to get the summoning squeak just right. And you must reward them with the right food. Rats are picky eaters.
You don't say! I'd never have guessed that.
They have to be, considering what human habitations offer up. Take just a taste. Wait awhile. If you don't get sick, go back for a second helping. Tell your mates.
My word. So what do you use as a tempting reward that will immediately appeal?
I favor fruit and Brown's Tropical Carnival Mouse & Rat Food. Keep some packets of the stuff in storage so it can be magicked to hand quickly. I demo'd the rat call. When a couple dozen showed up, magicked up a little snack for them. Asked them to hang around and help the platoon learn the summoning squeak. Then I bowed out.
You'll have to check in with them tomorrow, I suppose.
Yep. I'm afraid you'll have to fly back to Tadfield alone, Angel. Unhhhhh . . . do that bit some more. Felt great. . .
Crowley slips off into slumber. A few minutes later he's snoring softly. Aziraphale carefully lifts the foot-laden pillow and sets it to the side. Rises and goes over to the liquor cabinet to pour a glass of sherry. Flicks a hand to magic on his atrociously comfortable flannel and velvet dressing gown. Goes back to the couch and settles himself, magics to hand the copy of Black Country Girl in Red China that he's about halfway through, and reads as Crowley sleeps.
