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The welcoming embrace of Lake Pilavica. The rental car spins tires into the muddy loam of the lakeshore, wax polish scraped, boat-house brickdust off on the exterior, and, mercifully, all in one piece.
Agent Sidewinder spins the wheels for a bit and the water gurgles through the slight openins, seeping in, little probes of icey water to leech heat.
The car . . . wrenches free, shuddering through the ground, off-road. Okay. Easy. Easyyyy. Now just get back on the main-road and up at the winding forest path to Hotel Strigoi proper, report in and wait around for everyone else to get here. The slackers. Bet they haven't had to face down an entire roving nationalist separatist movements worth of balaclava clad militia hunters with uneeringly good aim.
>Sure, sounds great, let's drive up there
>on second thought, maybe just park the car in the designated parking spot by the boathouse and hoof it on foot
>Anything else?
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TS Liren: Yikes, Agents, I dont know who those guys were but we're pulling up everything we have on any locals. Fiasco shot - and don't you think there won't be a stern talking to later about opening fire at unidentified targets - dinged the front wheel, but EXTREMELY LUCKILY it somehow didn't FRONT RAM YOU AT HIGH SPEED because the driver accidentally twitched and pulled at the wheel. One in a million odds, I think.
We're tracing them on sats and I'm assigning an analyst section to find out who they were and why they were here. Report back, soon as we have anything.
