"I wandered around
The streets of this town
Trying to find sense of it all.
The rain on my face,
It covers the trace
Of all the tears I'd had to waste."

"Cry For Help" - Rick Astley

27 December 1999
Paris, France
San Regis Hotel

"It was a crazy frontal assault right in front of the hotel. We never expected anything like it." Dalla Selbjorgsdottir's voice trembled as she reported the previous day's events to David Ashton. "We opened fire on them but they were on top of us in seconds. None of us were hit by their shooting but Christophe, Chris, and Hotsuma were all killed in sword battles in just moments. It was horrible."

Selbjorgsdottir paused for a breath. She had already given a more detailed account of the ambush. Now she was repeating herself. Ashton took the respite as a chance to interrupt.

"How are you, Dalla? And the rest of the team?"

"We're fine. We've moved to the San Regis Hotel and set up operations there. We've also taken the bodies to a nearby morgue and I'm arranging for them to be buried." She breathed again. "It's hard, David. The coroner is asking a lot of questions."

"You can handle it, Dalla. I know you can."

"What about James?" she asked. "Who's going to tell him that his brother is dead?"

"Leave that to me," said Ashton. "You have enough on your mind right now. Just keep your people safe and take care of the matters at hand. I'll talk to James."

"Thank you, David."

"Do you know who killed him? He'll want to know."

"Yes. Michael was there. He said the man's name was Sergei Tuppankovich. It was a fair fight, David. Tuppankovich did nothing wrong."

"I know. James will still take it personally, though. You know how brothers can be."

"Yes. I suppose it somehow makes the grieving easier if you have a target for it."

Ashton sighed. "Sadly, yes. Losing a loved one is never easy. Being able to focus your pain on a definite source does help."

"You've experienced it yourself," she said.

"It's part of life for us all, mortal or Immortal. I'm sure you have been through the same sort of thing yourself."

"Yes, when I lost my husband."

"Then you know how James will be feeling."

"I think I do."

"Let me go see James now. Take some time to clear your head and then get things settled and out of the way as soon as you can. You'll be able to relax then and get back to work."

"Thank you, David."

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27 December 1999
Paris, France
K & K Hotel Cayre

"So ya jus' ran across tha street at them at dusk in front o' their hotel?" summarized O'Banian. She sat in an overstuffed recliner with her feet up in the sitting room of the suite, a glass of red wine in her hand. The other members of the Council reposed in chairs or couches around her.

"That's the short version of it, yes," agreed Locke.

"And got shot ta hell for it?" she finished, grinning. "Not tha best tactical sense, eh?"

"But it still worked," defended Faaris. "Surprise was achieved and three of their number were killed as a result."

"I'm not sayin' it didn't have an effect," said O'Banian, waving her free hand. "I'm jus' sayin' maybe it coulda been better if more thought had gone into the attack. An' maybe Michal wouldn'ta died. Tha's all. The result, I like. The way ya got it, I don't."

"Are you saying we shouldn't have done it?" inquired Julian Black. He sat on one of the couches, one leg over his knee, his arm over his wife's shoulder.

"No," replied O'Banian. "It's done an' that high minded ass, Ashton, is now second guessin' 'imself. I call that a win. My only concern now is that we're left with tha nine people in this room, not countin' Fiona, ta carry on tha fight. Karl an' his boys are out there workin' independently an' Angela an' Giovanna aren't really any good to us."

"What do they contribute at all?" asked Faaris.

"Angela will be useful once I get some trainin' under her belt. I jus' need time ta do it. Giovanna, well, I'm not sure what she can do. She jus' sits in her room mosta tha time."

"Sometimes she give us good info," added Tokawa. "Good stuff for raids."

"That's true," remarked Locke, "but was it anything we couldn't have garnered from those computers we captured? Karl and his guys got the new passwords for us so they're still assets to us."

"Let's not totally discount her yet," said O'Banian. "She may not be helpin' us out there with tha fightin', but she can still be useful. We're too small ta be forcin' anyone out right now. We need ta think about how ta best make use o' tha people we got. We still have a lotta work ta do. We can't waste time or people's lives while we're at it."

"Do you think we can really do it with only nine people?" Erik Frost looked questioningly at her.

"Probably not," she said honestly, "but we can make a helluva dent and bring others ta our side. All great efforts start small. We'll do tha same."

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28 December 1999
Edinburgh, Scotland

Harlan Earnshaw lit Alan Ottenbreit's proffered cigar and took a deep drag from its cut end. Taking it from his mouth and exhaling the thick smoke, he picked up the nearby tumbler of whiskey and drank half of its contents before returning his attention to the stick of tobacco. He crossed a leg over his knee and leaned back in his chair, a look of contentment on his features.

"Thank you for the kind welcome, Alan. I appreciate it."

Ottenbreit smiled and waved him off lightly. He puffed at his own cigar. "You have certainly earned it, Harlan, after all of your hard work. A small gift from my humidor and bar is the least I can do for you."

"After so long with those extremists with the Salafist Group for Preaching and Combat and their prohibition against drinking, it is a relief to get a sip of good whiskey, I'll admit that. I expect this to go right to my head." Earnshaw grinned and took another long sip.

Ottenbreit laughed. "We'll have to be sure to warn your new students about that before they leave. On that note, I want to send everyone we can put together with that next group."

Earnshaw blinked. "How many are we talking about?"

"I'm not sure yet. Things have been hard while you were away. We've had a lot of losses, more than we expected."

"How many?"

"Fifty-nine so far, counting wounded and missing."

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Earnshaw, downing the rest of his whiskey and reaching for the bottle to refill his glass.

"Exactly. I am going to have Adam and Emilio gather all the men they have left, plus a few from my staff here, and send them with the next group. The one hundred you have brought back to us will replenish our ranks and resume our operations in Europe."

"Well, at least give those boys a few days to cool off. They've earned that."

"Certainly I'll do that. But by the fifteenth of the new year, I want to have everything going as they were."

"We should be able to do that."

"And how long will you be remaining with us?"

"A few weeks. I'm not quite ready to go right back into that heat. Although it is cooling off a bit due to the winter months. It's still a lot warmer than it is here, though."

Ottenbreit laughed again. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like, my friend. In fact, I have a few things in mind that you just might like to do while you're here."

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30 December 1999
Paris, France
The Hotel Raphael

Ashton stared at the ringing phone. He checked his watch. It was nine-thirty in the morning and he was not expecting a call. None of the recon teams had any missions. Perhaps it was Honnecker with an update. He normally did that by email, though. He only called if it was critical. The Minoan picked up the receiver.

"Oui?" (Yes?)

"Mr. Ashton?" he heard in English. He did not recognize the voice.

"Yes," he said guardedly.

"My name is Devon Sather. I am a Watcher. You know me better as PO2. We have communicated before. I hold a high level position in the organization and I have been authorized to talk with you openly. I would like to meet with you and any other representatives of your Alliance that you choose to discuss recent events."

Ashton sat in his desk chair and reached for a notepad. He cradled the receiver in his shoulder as he wrote.

"I must confess, Mr. Sather, that this is a bit sudden and you have me at a bit of a surprise."

"I'm sure I do, sir. I recommend we meet somewhere public, for the security of us both. We would both, of course, bring our own security people with us."

"That is sensible. And what do you wish to discuss at this meeting?"

"I don't want to say over the phone. Let's just say a mutually beneficial arrangement for us both."

"You have my attention now, Mr. Sather. Where do you recommend?"

"How about we meet for lunch tomorrow at the Chez Papa Jazz Club on 3 Rue Saint-Benoît?"

"Tomorrow is not good for me, Mr. Sather," admitted Ashton. "Give me a few days to get things in order on my side. How about we meet on…" he paused, thinking about everything he had his teams doing over the next week, "...the fifth of next month? Does that work for you?"

"Let me see." Ashton heard the click of a mouse and assumed the man was moving through an electronic calendar to check his appointments. "That is fine with me, sir. I will be there. I will bring two people with me for security."

"Then I will do the same," replied Ashton. "I will see you there at noon."

"Thank you, sir. I look forward to our meeting."

"As do I, Mr. Sather. Goodbye."

Ashton hung up, wondering if he had just made an appointment with his own demise for that date. He decided to do everything in his power to insure nothing of that sort happened to him or those he brought with him.

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Date: 30 December 1999
From: Matzel, Adam
To: European Hunter Mailing List
CC: Gironelli, Emilio
Subject: Call to Paris

All Concerned:

All Hunters on this list are hereby ordered to gather in Paris no later than 3 January of 2000 for preparation to ship to Algeria for training. Your duties will be taken over by the students who have recently graduated from the Algerian training camp. It is now your turn to receive this valuable training. The skills you will learn will enable you to become better soldiers in the fight against the Immortal pestilence we seek to eradicate.

Acknowledge receipt of this message and the time you expect to arrive in Paris. Report to me and Emilio Gironelli via email once you have arrived. We will coordinate your transportation.

Matzel