Chapter 5: Scarlet Trails

1. The Crimson Therapeutics

Vince slowed his motorcycle, carefully scanning the quiet industrial park. Most businesses were closed for the night, but one building still showed activity - Crimson Therapeutics. Vince had discovered the company's name on shipping documents from the raided drug hub. Some deeper connection thereby seemed likely.

He killed the engine and coasted his bike into an alley. The area was oddly deserted, he could not spot any guards or security patrols. But Vince's senses remained on high alert as he circled the building covertly.

There was a small side door marked "Delivery Entrance". Vince did not see any obvious cameras or alarms. Worth investigating quietly. He picked the lock and slipped inside, finding himself in a sterile corridor with several offices branching off. He paused, focusing on his senses. No immediate threats that he could detect.

Vince crept silently towards faint voices and the hum of machines ahead. The halls smelled strongly chemical - cleaners and pharmaceuticals masked any subtler scents. He hugged corners and used decorative plants for cover, making steady progress towards the active area. Still no guards in sight.

Passing a glass-walled conference room, Vince froze. Inside stood a group of executives in a heated debate. Vince recognized one board member from news reports - Augustus Giovanni, billionaire CEO of massively profitable VitCorp. And more importantly, Primogen of a local vampire clan.

Vince made a mental note about his discovery. VitCorp had major biotech and pharmaceutical holdings - if they were tied to the tainted drug, it could explain the operation's resources and distribution reach. But with a powerful kindred at the helm, confronting them directly was incredibly dangerous. Vince would need more evidence.

He slipped past the conference room towards the sound of running machines ahead. The hall opened into a sprawling manufacturing floor, pristine machines churning unknown products. Vince took cover behind pallets of boxed materials marked for shipping.

Workers in protective gear monitored the automated production lines. Vince tasted the air again, sorting through chemical layers. There - the unmistakable sweetness of the tainted vampire blood used in the illicit drugs. This had to be a source.

Vince looked closer at the boxes - they were labeled as an experimental new neuro-enhancer called Crimson. A harmless front for the dangerous contraband within. Clever but sloppy to process everything here. The whole operation was likely a rogue endeavor hidden beneath VitCorp's legitimacy.

A door opened at the factory's rear and two more figures entered hurriedly - a tall pale man in a lab coat, followed by a statuesque woman in an immaculate pantsuit. Vince's eyes narrowed as he recognized her - Larissa, the Prince's aide. Her presence here implicated the Camarilla leadership.

This conspiracy ran deeper than Vince had realized. He needed to dig even deeper before bringing accusations. Vince carefully withdrew towards the exits. He had discovered enough and wouldn't find more without risking being discovered.

Tomorrow he would pay a discreet visits to VitCorp properties around the city, to see what other secrets he could uncover. With time and care, the roots of this network could be exposed and severed entirely.

Vince's long path through darkness showed once again, first his past and now the Camarilla. He always found himself knee-deep in corruption.

2. Corporate Conspiracy

The next night Vince crouched motionless atop the downtown high-rise, watching the VitCorp's offices far below. Last night's infiltration of Crimson Therapeutics had confirmed the company's role in supplying the tainted blood drug. Now more evidence was needed to unravel this web fully.

Augustus Giovanni pulled immense financial and political strings across LA from his headquarters here. But even city elders treaded cautiously when confronting his clan's vast influence and resources. Vince would have to be strategic with his next move.

He studied the gleaming tower, mentally cataloging potential entry points. The direct approach had worked thus far, but security here was guaranteed to be tighter. Stealth and cunning would serve better than force.

Vince spotted a cleaning crew moving downstairs - late-night janitors, likely paid little attention to. An opportunity. He made his way down the fire escape and slipped through a propped service entrance, keeping to the workers' shadows.

Their cart provided both cover and disguise as Vince blended with the jumpsuited crew. He kept his head low beneath a borrowed hat, maintaining the illusion as they cleaned empty corporate floors. Few even spared him a passing glance. The hiding-in-plain-sight gambit was working smoothly so far.

The crew eventually reached the VitCorp's executive suites. Security doors prevented entry, but Vince had seen all he needed to. The workers continued their rounds while he peeled away, searching for an isolated room to wait till they would leave the floor.

Ensconced in a remote corner office, Vince reviewed his next moves. Come the next hour the cleaners would be gone from the floor. He could use the cleaners key card he had snatched to then enter the higher up office floors. The real challenge would be cracking Giovanni's office once inside.

Patience was key. Vince meditated as the time crawled on, conserving strength and focusing on the coming trial. As a sounds outside started vanish, he stirred again. Now was the time.

Vince slipped back into the false uniform and grabbed a left behind maintenance cart. He blended in, looking just busy enough to avoid unwanted attention from the very few office workers still around. Before long he was ascending the executive elevator without incident.

The top floor was deathly still, only the CEO's office showing any signs of activity within. Vince jimmied the lock and quickly ducked inside. Elegant and imposing, the office stood empty for now. Finding proof tied to the blood drug operation was all that mattered to Vince, but were to look first?

Vince rifled through Giovanni's desk carefully. Most documents related to legitimate VitCorp business. He was about to give up when the drawer's false bottom shifted, revealing a hidden compartment. Jackpot.

He scanned through the concealed files feverishly - supply chains, production facilities, distribution networks. This was everything he needed to unravel Giovanni's involvement in the drug trade. His heart raced as he tucked the documents safely away. In his frenzy, Vince almost missed the sound of footsteps approaching.

Vince slipped behind the heavy curtains just as the office door handle turned. He felt like a cartoon character trying to hide behind the curtain. The room's two occupants froze at seeing the damaged locks and open drawer. In hushed, angry tones they began sweeping the office for clues, unaware of Vince's presence mere feet away.

Trapped and outmatched for now, Vince could only wait tensely for an opportunity to flee unnoticed. But the vital evidence was his, exposing machinations that reached far deeper than he had known. The beast in him thrilled at this dangerous situation and secret cut from Giovanni's heart.

Close to dawn, the LA's towers still touched by darkness, Vince finally had a chance to leave the office. He had a hard time believing that hiding behind a heavy curtain had worked and saved his hide.

The masquerade of civility that enshrouded elders would burn away to ash in scorching light. Once he had delivered the evidence to the Anarchs. But first, he would have to get out of the building.

3. Unwelcome Company

Vince crept through the empty hallways, stolen documents secured safely within his jacket. He had slipped away undetected once Giovanni's office stood briefly empty. Now he had to make a quiet exit before security discovered him.

The fire stairwell door was just ahead. Vince was reaching for it when instinct suddenly warned him of danger. He flattened himself against the wall just as the barrel of a submachine gun poked out from the doorway and sprayed the hall with blistering fire. Vince shielded his face from shattering glass as bullets tore into offices around him.

"We know you're out there!" a harsh voice echoed from the doorway. "Come along peacefully and we'll go easy on you. Resist and this gets ugly."

Vince's mind raced, evaluating his options. Judging by the sustained fire, a heavily armed team waited beyond, perhaps Giovanni's own private security. Or these guys could be Sabbat agents, alerted by Vince's recent takedowns of their drug operations. Either way, he was cornered and outgunned.

When the ringing gunfire finally ceased, Vince called out "Alright, you got me. I'm unarmed. Coming out slowly."

He moved into the doorway with hands raised, feigning compliance - then suddenly threw himself sideways as another barrage of bullets strafed the opening. Vince crashed through a weakened office wall in a rain of debris, grateful for the brief reprieve.

Shouts echoed down the hall as the team moved to flank Vince's new position. He scanned the room hastily - decorative wooden beams lined the ceiling. An idea struck. When gun barrels appeared in the doorway ahead, Vince was waiting on the ceiling directly above them.

As soon as the team crossed the threshold, Vince tore free an overhead beam and dropped it directly onto the enforcers with a resounding crack. Their weapons clattered away as the heavy wood pinned them down. In the confusion, Vince sprung towards the open stairwell door.

He managed to slam it shut and wedge a stripped rifle barrel through the handles before the team could react. That makeshift lock wouldn't delay them for long, but it was a good head start. Vince flew down the stairs three at a time, hearing gunfire shattering the door above.

Reaching ground level, he slipped out a side exit and hugged building walls towards where he'd hidden his motorcycle. The sound of booted feet drew nearer from around the tower's corners.

With no time to spare, Vince kickstarted his bike and slewed it around just as the armored team burst into view. Bullets pocked the ground around him as Vince opened the throttle and fishtailed towards the street. He ducked behind the bike frame as glass exploded from a window ahead. Then Vince was roaring out the allyway onto downtown streets. Behind him angry shouts receded.

He'd escaped for now, damaging evidence intact. But clearly Giovanni's operation had been alerted. Vince would need to lay low while deciding his next move. Too much could go wrong now to be hasty.

Changes were coming for LA's kindred leadership after tonight. The tree of corruption would be torn out by the roots, but Vince had to be carefully. Corruption had a tendency to go scorched earth when fighting for its life.

Patience had to be Vince's ally now, not speed or ferocity. The public eye had to join his own in witnessing the sins being dragged into the light.

4. The Heart of the Enemy

Vince leaned casually against a grimy wall, looking utterly at ease beneath the seedy alley's flickering neon. To any observer, he was just another of downtown's shadow denizens waiting out the night.

But his vigilant eyes constantly scanned the darkened streets, alert for signs of surveillance. The documents that he had confiscated last night implicated powerful kindred across LA. Now Vince had to trace this rot up through middle management to its source - the top levels of the Camarilla and VitCorp. Exposing them openly would be a declaration of war.

Which was why Vince needed his ace in the hole first - an unimpeachable eyewitness account. For that risky gambit, an old debt would have to be called in tonight.

When the traffic faded to a lone patrol car, Vince slipped unseen towards the subway tunnels. Down in the lightless bowels beneath the sidewalks, those the city preferred to forget had their freedom. Vince descended deeper, senses piercing the void until he found the gently flowing vein he sought.

An echoing voice called from the blackness. "That's far enough, stranger. This domain is claimed."

Vince stopped. "I've come to speak with Andre. We have history between us."

A hulking figure emerged from the shadows, features obscured by a filthy hood and rags. "The Nosferatu owes you, then? That is the only currency here." The guardian gestured down the tunnel. "He waits below."

Vince followed the subterranean river deeper, step soft on the worn stone. The path ended at a chamber lit by flickering bulbs. In its center sat an imposing, hunchbacked figure - Andre, the exiled lorekeeper of the Nosferatu. His lips split into a jagged smile at Vince's approach.

"Night Eyes. Been awhile." His voice rasped like gravel. "I assume you want more than pleasantries."

Vince nodded. "I have a rare and risky opportunity. But the greatest risks bring greatest rewards." He outlined his request - infiltration of Crimson's classified lab to gather ironclad evidence like security video's and signed documents, against its architects.

Andre grimaced. "A bold gambit. But if this truly flows to the seat of powers, it must be scrutinized, no matter what shadows stir." He pondered a moment. "I will do this. But a price - the Primogen's downfall leaves a vacuum. The Nosferatu expect a voice in coming changes."

Vince clasped his arm. "Just help expose the truth. I promise the downtrodden will not be forgotten when the dust settles."

Andre's eyes glittered from the darkness of his hood. "Then we have an accord. Return two nights hence and I will have Chronicler's testimony to whatever evil brews in that tower."

They parted ways, Vince ascending from beneath the city somewhat troubled. Bargains with the deformed Nosferatu were rarely straightforward. But the prize was worth the risk.

With Andre's witness account, the pieces would fully come together. Then Vince could rally support, tear away that facade of normalcy shielding the monsters in high places. The downtrodden masses yearned for recognition.

But first, the cancer had to be cut out at its heart.

5. A Narrow Escape

Two nights later, Vince raced into the parking garage, the engine's roar echoing off concrete columns. He had just collected the additional evidence from Andre and was en route to present his findings to the Anarch Council downtown. Exposing the truth among the kindred community was the only recourse left, though it would provoke the Camarilla severely.

He wove between parked cars, focused solely on his goal. So focused that he noticed the pair of black vans blocking the exit too late. Vince twisted the bike wildly, its back tire clipping the lead van with a screech of deforming metal as he squeezed past. Shouts and weapons clattered behind him - an ambush!

Vince gritted his teeth and squeezed every ounce of speed from his bike as gunfire erupted at his back. He leaned hard around a corner, taking it nearly horizontal to the ground before accelerating again. Whoever his ambushers were, they were not letting up easy.

The throaty roar of a souped-up engine echoed through the garage - the vans were in pursuit. Vince cursed and stood up in the saddle, coaxing more velocity from his machine. He had to lose them before reaching the Anarchs or he'd lead a tail straight to the council.

A bullet whizzed past Vince's ear, barely missing. Up ahead, the exit booth gates were already descending in response to the gunplay. No slowing down - he gripped the bike with his knees and drew his Glock, firing precisely at the control box. The gates reversed direction and Vince blasted through unhindered.

Outside was momentarily quiet, then the two black vans skidded onto the street behind him. Vince cut across lanes towards an on-ramp, evasive maneuvers barely keeping space between him and his pursuers. Whoever these guys were, they were determined.

Vince blew through a red light, leaving honking cars in his wake. The vans followed ruthlessly, ignoring civilians and traffic as they gained on him. Vince needed an escape route or things were about to end badly.

He angled towards a city bus stopped at a crowded station ahead. This reckless gambit had to work or it was over. Vince twisted the throttle to full and aimed for the bus's rear emergency door. At the last second he hit the brakes hard, laying the bike sideways into a slide directly at the bus's broad side.

Vince leapt from the bike an instant before impact and crashed through the bus's back window. Momentum carried him halfway down the aisle amid frightened passengers. Behind him tires squealed as the vans swerved violently to avoid the crash.

Vince shook off broken glass and pulled himself up, waving for calm. "Sorry folks, police emergency." Before questions could arise he was out the front passenger door and lost from view.

In the chaos and confusion, Vince vanished down a subway entrance a block away. He clung to a speeding train's underside, safely out of sight but badly rattled. That had been too close. Somehow the enemy knew about tonight's evidence handoff - he'd almost paid the price.

But the documents were secure. He'd make it to the Anarchs yet and bring the corrupt elders to their knees. Their days hiding their secrets behind gilded facades were numbered.

The train carried Vince towards destiny's crossroads, where his solitary path would collide with the fate of all kindred. Heavy choices awaited, he would not falter. The city teetered on corruption's knife edge. Kindred were threatened by the drug and the destruction of the Masquerade.

He braced for impact as systems resist change violently. But resistance would prove futile against this avalanche of sins. Los Angeles' kindred community would rebuild. Maybe for the time without the Camarilla, but if Vince had learned anything from his long life, then that the Camarilla was never gone for long.

Right now, the revolution approached on rails of fire.