Chapter 5.

SOMEWHERE IN TIBET (1955)

"According to legend, Kala Pradesh was founded approximately two thousand years after the Great Flood. The builders being a geomantic sect of Nagah metis, called the Ahi Kamakshi, who used black basalt from the Deccan Plateau. And who chose a site previously occupied by the capital city of the last original Dragon Kingdom."

"It was their wizard-king, Sheksha, who presaged the fall of the city when he unwisely chose to give refuge to Herpo the Foul."

"The latter was a Euthanatoic Parselmouth who had fled ancient Greece upon learning that he had been condemned to death, after being tried and convicted, in absentia, by the First Wizengamot under Hermes Trismegistus, himself, for creating the very first basilisk. An Abomination he had subsequently used against the Garou during the War of Rage! And, as he had done so at the behest of the vampiric Setite Clan, it was they who helped smuggle him to India. There, he was taken in by the similarly necromantic Chakravanti, who subsequently appointed him their albireo, or emissary, to King Sheksha."

"That, in turn, is why their rivals, the Akashic Brotherhood, chose to side with both the Cult of Mercury* and the Silver Fang theurges of the Blood Red Crest. All three factions laid magical siege to the city! A long and costly siege, of course. Yet, one that was ultimately successful, nevertheless."

"Kala Pradesh fell... and Herpo the Foul was sent Beyond the Veil."

Cassandra grinned. "I remember when I first heard that story. It was from a Stargazer galliard, at House Shaea, in ancient Egypt. And I'm pretty sure she attributed most of that success to a Tibetan Qualmi called She-Li!"

The were-lynx in question telepathically chuckled as she licked her right paw.

"Galliards always exaggerate. It makes their stories less boring!"

"Even so," replied Cassandra, "I now have a better understanding of why those ruins have never been permanently abandoned. Too much inherent power left over. In fact, I'd venture to say that only the Temple of Shadows itself is more powerful!"

She-Li nodded, adding. "I know of only one magical faction that was ever crazy enough to try and harness that power. But, that's another story!"

The Last of the White Howlers stood back up from the rock on which she had been sitting.

"Sadly, it's one I'll have to save listening to for another occasion. Thank you, She-Li."

Cassandra emphasized the last part with a grateful bow. To which the Qualmi replied, "You can thank me by being careful enough to keep your head."

HOTEL CAGLIOSTRO,

TRIESTE, ITALY

(JUNE 8, 1967)

The vampire who referred to himself as "Count Sanguinelli" was rumored to be a Caitiff posing as an antitribu Tzimice of the Grimaldi bloodline. In actuality, however, he was a middleman for the arms-dealing Koenig bloodline of the Venetian Giovanni Clan! And the information he picked up in the course of that business is why John Baring Summers was meeting him in the hotel's main barroom.

The self-styled count ordered himself a "Bovine Mary" not too heavy on the vodka before turning back to his human visitor.

"So, signor! To what do I owe the unexpected honor of ah-this visit?"

John sipped his ginger ale with lemon before replying.

"The Duchevskis."

"Scusami?"

John smirked in bemusement.

"Revenant family, once known as the Krevcheskis? Blood-bonded to Clan Tzimice? But, now affiliated with Clan Tremere? With an almost-erotic thing for torture devices?"

"Ah, si. Si! What else-ah do you wish-ah to know about them?"

"Why are some of them working for the East Germans?"

"Whatever would-ah give you that idea, signore?" the count countered.

John frowned. "Scry into my ginger ale and see for yourself."

The Anglo-American operative held up his glass so the vampire could do as suggested. Sure enough; within the depths of the carbonated beverage, Sanguinelli beheld an electric cattle prod. Small arcs of electricity passing from one prong to another... like white-hot fireflies.

"One of my fellow aurors confiscated this from someone who was using it to project crucio curses! Yet, you and I both know that no mortal nephandus -not even Grindelwald, himself- would replace his precious wand with a magically weaponized muggle artifact. So, I ask you again: Why are Duchevski vampires working for the East Germans?"

Sanguinelli shrugged. "Non lo so, signore."

This caused John to sigh in blatant frustration.

"Fine! We'll do this the hard way."

Whereupon, he used his left hand to withdraw the toothpick-impaled lemon wedge from the ginger ale.

"Depulso!"

Before Sanguinelli could react in his defense, the toothpick flew out of the lemon wedge... and penetrated into his throat via the Adam's apple!

"Uhhhhn!"

John could not resist smirking.

"That toothpick has spent the past half hour floating amongst ice cubes made from holy water! So, I estimate about five minutes- -maybe less- -before it makes its way, slowly and painfully, down to your heart. Where it will then disintegrate you, with equally painful slowness, from the inside out. Unless, of course, you finally start _answering_ questions, rather than asking them! So, for the last time; why are Duchevski vampires working for the East Germans?"

"Don't... know," gasped Sanguinelli. "Ask... Goratrix."

"Goratrix?"

"Tremere... antitribu. Alytus... based. Duchevski clique... all... his. That... is all... I know!"

John grunted. "Fine, then. Accio!"

Whereupon, the toothpick came flying back out of Sanguinelli's throat and into the lemon wedge. Following which, the vampiric necromancer collapsed, face-first, on to the bar.

"Grazie tante, Signore Conte," recited John in his most formal Italian, as he put his drink back on the bar right next to Sanguinelli's face.

"Oh! And, one more thing," he added. "Tell Herr Koenig he might want to cease supplying that clique with electric cattle prods. Both immediately... and permanently."

Whereupon, he went to the fireplace in the hotel's main dining room, and threw floo powder into it, before intoning his next stop.

"Gorodok Gargoyles' clubhouse; Vilnius, Lithuania."

EAST BERLINHAUS

(24 HOURS EARLIER)

"Guten morgen, Herr Professor."

"Guten morgen, Herr Doktor."

Dr. Krelmar shook hands with Professor Matthew Rath outside the infirmary.

"How is your patient, this morning?"

"Much, much better. There was some initial bafflement, of course. But, fortunately, he is adapting to his new form even faster than I anticipated!"

"Then, you are ready to proceed with your part of Operation: Kaos?"

"Jawohl. I have even decided on a suitable code-name for him! His host body's true identity was Charles Armstrong of the CIA. So, I shall condition him to respond to the code-name 'Chuckoolakambe.' 'Chucko,' for short!"

tbc

GLOSSARY

*Cult of Mercury: Greco-Roman forerunner of the wizarding Order of Hermes.

Chuckoolakambe: another in-joke. "Koolakambe" is the folkloric name for a purportedly natural-occurring hybrid of chimpanzee and gorilla somewhere in West Africa. While "Chucko" was the name given by a mad scientist to a genetically engineered killer ape in the GET SMART episode "The Apes of Rath."

She-li: Mandarin Chinese word for "lynx."