Away in the distance, the torchlight was flickering as rows upon rows of undead forms marched in formation. Peering through binoculars from the next hill, Lance noted the dark uniforms worn by most of the assembled horde, then scanned the crowd until he found the high podium, flanked by tall burning braziers, and furled banners

Three figures stood on the stage. In the center was a lean, pallid, aristocratic looking man, who was haranguing the assembled crowd. To his left was a short, plump man, who looked rather nervous, despite his fine silk and ermine attire. To his right was a tall, chalk white figure, in a cloak and some sort of purple armor, with a glittering red gem perched on his forehead.

"I might not have passed history," Lance murmured, lowering his binoculars. "Or even, you know, shown up for class half the time. But I can tell this is a bad sign. Can you make out what he's saying?"

Daisy, who was training a set of rather sophisticated audio equipment on the stage nodded. "Mostly a lot of sound and fury about rising up to fulfill their rightful destiny. You're right- in these numbers, with that sort of symbolism… hell, Baron Blood- the one in the center- and most of his inner circle were around for World War Two. They know exactly what they're doing. Look, the little sweaty guy stage left- that's King Vladimir. The man on the right- I don't know him."

As she spoke, Baron Blood turned to the king, and thrust his hand out, palm downwards. The king jerked once, and then froze, rigidly upright. Then, as Baron Blood slowly lowered his hand, the king sank to his knees.

"This isn't just about a shadow war with SHIELD anymore," Daisy said. "This is a damned coup."

Baron Blood slashed across the king's throat, and there was a dark spurt of blood in the torchlight. The Baron raised his fingers to his mouth and licked them, and then grabbed the king by the back of the neck and propelled him off the stage and out into the crowd. The assembled nosferatu closed in around him.

Daisy whispered urgently. "Lance, listen to me very carefully. If they're ready to come out in the open like this, something's changed. Whatever Baron Blood brought back from Paris- we have to destroy it. Here. Tonight."

Lance nodded grimly. "Say the word," he said. "Breaking stuff's what I'm good at."

The feeding frenzy was dying down, and Baron Blood was speaking again. Daisy pressed a hand to her headphones, repeating his words. "We had all heard the stories of our blood kin disappearing in the Paris catacombs. Well, I tell you now, their sacrifices were not in vain. Our new ally, the good Doctor Any, has perfected a method for purifying the blood of witch-breeds so that they too can receive the Dark Sacrament." He gestured at the armored figure. "Soon, his laboratory in Castle Actherliek will produce a new breed of living weapons- with which we shall sweep the world clean of all opposition! The sun will burn black and we shall be the Lords of the Endless Night!"

Daisy glanced at Lance, who nodded. "The castle, I've got it. I think I can bring it down from here."

Daisy shook her head. "Too risky. We don't know what form the method takes. We can't risk releasing an untested biological agent like that. You're going to have to go in."

"Me? I don't think I'm really the person to figure out if the science-stuff is safe to break. Usually I just go at it."

"I have an answer for that." She reached in her pockets pocket and produced two small, brown paper packages. "Detonator," she said, handing him the smaller one. "Plug it into this," she handed him the other. "It's set to a one minute timer, so don't hang around. It will burn hot enough to sterilize just about anything in a confined space."

"And you were just carrying it?" Lance asked, a little askance.

"Relax, Alvers. It's completely inert until the detonator is plugged in."

"And where are you going to be, while I'm running around, trying not to blow myself up?"

Daisy wrapped the rosary around the knuckles of one hand, and hefted a wooden stake in the other. "I'm going to be making sure their minds are on anything but what's going on in the castle."

"But that's," Lance began to protest, and then stopped, Daisy's expression telling him that she knew exactly what she was proposing to do. "Good luck," he finished instead.

She nodded curtly. "If we don't both make it out of this," she said. "It's been- well, not exactly a pleasure."

Lance scoffed. "Just for that, Johnson, I'm going to survive."

They gripped hands briefly, and then Daisy said, "Enough goldbricking. Time to go to work."