External Threats

[Alex]

Conrad leaned back in his chair, his fingers rubbing his temples. It didn't actually provide any relief in death - it wasn't as though he had an actual migraine. But it was a tick that helped him soothe the Beast when it was roiling at the surface. And right now he was at the edge of Frenzy. And Conrad hadn't felt the Beast this close to his skin since...perhaps ever. Were the Sheriff not sitting to his left and the Primogen Robin St. Claire at his right, he may have given in and cut loose. It wasn't as if he had any love for the bland conference room the three met in. But he couldn't show weakness for lesser Kindred - especially the Primogen. So he had to keep his wits about him despite the maddening words pouring out of the speaker phone in the middle of the table.

"So to confirm, Lord Primogen," Conrad said to the phone. "You alerted me to Anarchs prowling about your territory, and I lent you some of my...equipment...to handle them. The ambush they were lured into not only failed to kill them, but resulted in the destruction or capture of most of my equipment." Before an interruption came, Conrad raised his voice. "And further, you did not move the weapons that the Anarchs were seeking."

"Moving them woulda slowed down the export!" Conrad's eye twitched to hear the high-pitched, whiny voice of Rodney Colombo on the other side of the line. The Ventrue may have been a Primogen, but Conrad considered him scum. A henchman of convenience thrust into a war he was somehow managing to lose. "We couldn't stop the flow to Kaito or they'da overrun him!"

"Whereas losing the weapons stopped the export and got him overrun anyways," Victor the Rat piped up in his raspy tone. "So now you got no weapons, no gang, and the Anarchs have the entire western limits."

"They will not last long," came a voice with a slight Japanese accent. It was Kaito Fujimori, the Malkavian who served as Colombo's right hand. "Great Kami has designs on all things. This setback is a trap for the Anarchs, so that his divine wind might flow through me an-"

"Shut him up," Conrad barked into the phone.

"Woah woah woah Kaito!" Rodney said. "I told you! That's just between us, eh?" The Malkavian stopped, but Conrad's fangs were still bared. "Look, I'm going to fix this! It's just a little roadbump! And you were right - the Sabbat ain't doing shit to me. They've been futzing with that bitch Ember's turf." Conrad didn't reply, letting the silence hang. He knew Colombo would start pleading again. "Point is, this won't last. So they got the gutted out Fairbanks fuckers. We still hold our turf, and we're gonna sweep 'em out. Honest!"

"See to it that you do," Conrad said. "You serve on the Primogen Council at the pleasure of the Prince. And he will not be pleased should he see you at Court while the Limits yet burn." Conrad terminated the call before Colombo could reply. There was stillness for a moment. Then in a single, swift motion Conrad hefted up the phone base and flung it at the wall. It shattered even as bits of it punctured the drywall, its parts clattering on the ground. The Sheriff and Robin both stared as Conrad dusted himself off.

"My apologies," he said. "I needed that."

Robin rolled her eyes. "So Colombo is going about as well as I expected," she muttered. "Not that we had much of a choice."

"Indeed," Conrad said, retaking his seat. "That being said, I expected better than this."

Victor just chuckled. "I didn't," he said. "Rodney is a small fish in a smaller fucking pond."

"So did you bring me here just to remind me that I would be losing my head to an Anarch revolt in a few nights' time?" Robin asked. "You two have been having your little club meetings for decades. I think this is the first one I've been invited to."

"Course we didn't invite you," Victor said. "Nobody knew whose side you're on."

"You're both on opposite sides," Robin pointed out.

"The problem wasn't your side," Victor followed up. "It was that you didn't have one. Even being enemies brings a certain degree of clarity."

"So what changed," Robin asked.

"The situation," Conrad answered. "When Victor and I began collaborating for the good of the Domain." He ignored Robin rolling her eyes. "We unlived in a city facing internal issues, not external ones. Our alliance was forged to keep either His Grace or Lady Courtenay from destabilizing the Domain. We do not believe that will be possible for much longer." Conrad looked to the wall where he had slammed the phone. "Lady Carlisle-Hastings' success will not be enough to make up for the loss of the Limits and the Final Death of a second Primogen," he continued. "And Lady Courtenay will take the opportunity to depose and kill Prince Alderidge."

"And why would that bother you?" Robin said pointedly to the Nosferatu. "Your best friend being made Prince? Sounds like what you wanted."

"Twenty years ago? Maybe," Victor said with a dismissive wave. "But after one more tongue lashing from her over how I didn't protect her baby boys' property? Making me apologize to your stupid fucking bastard colleague?" He shook his head. "Lady Courtenay will never clear her fucking head of her husband long enough to save this city. She'll fling us recklessly at New Orleans and the Anarchs will eat us from within."

"And she'll let her late hubby's stupid fucking brat run the whole damn thing," Victor said with a scowl, an expression rendering his face even more hideous than usual.

"So what, you wish to coup her first?" Robin asked. "To slay the Eldest of the Domain? You surely don't have the power nor the information to do so. Lady Courtenay may have become addled by the loss of her husband, but I cannot fathom that she would simply allow herself to be slain in such a manner. If it could happen, the Fat Prince would have already made it so."

"Hardly, for every reason you raised," Conrad replied. He reached into his coat and brought out a piece of parchment. "Sometimes," he said, offering it to Robin. "External problems call for external solutions."

Robin snatched the parchment up. Her eyes widened and she looked to Conrad. "You would be executed now if His Grace knew about this," she said. "Or Lady Courtenay. They'd have you nailed to a roof to see the dawn."

"And if you intend to show it to them, by all means," the Tremere said as Robin kept reading. "I'd prefer a quick death to whatever the Anarchs have planned for me. But I invited you because I believe you know this step to be necessary." Conrad leaned over her shoulder. "Once we have signatures we deem sufficient, I can use my contacts in the remains of Clan Tremere to have this letter sent to where it needs to go. With sufficient support, the Justicariate will take action."

"And it's not like there's nothing in it for you," Victor said with a ghoulish laugh. "Whoever they send won't stick around forever. We'll need a new Prince after. And you've got just about the most level head in the city. I'd stand for you."

"As would I, Lady Saint Claire," Conrad said. "In gratitude for your service to the city."

"And it's not like this would be your first betrayal," Victor sneered at her. Robin recoiled. She did what she had to do to survive. But that didn't mean she enjoyed thinking about it. Even 50 years later and much closer to the Beast. "Shit, you don't even like Magnus or Courtenay. Fucking over Richard was probably much harder than this would be."

Robin looked at the parchment silently. Her eyes went over the words drafted by Conrad over and over again. This would be a drastic step. But she couldn't argue with their logic. Magnus would likely fall. Courtenay would likely fail to run the Domain. This was the only way out for her. The only way she could protect herself from a beheading by the Anarchs. And if she should happen to become Prince once the fighting was done...

Robin looked up at Conrad. "Give me three nights to acquire signatures," she said. "We need to move quickly. We know Prague may not."