The Silver Bullet Reloaded [Ranka]

[Sparda]

The Isafaro that Sparda portalled into was so vastly different from the one he left months ago, he briefly wondered if he might have somehow come to entirely the wrong place. For once, the sun was shining, and as he walked the streets and alleys amid great swathes of destruction, he wondered how the seemingly impenetrable darkness had been lifted.

Somewhere in this mess, waiting for him, was the nigh-legendary Silver Bullet. Ranka had finally arrived in Genesis, and called to Sparda for help carrying out some mysterious plan. Sparda was aware of the curfew - and had no intention of adhering to it. He knew Ranka was most active at night, and had the wits to avoid the suspicion of the patrolling soldiers.

So when night fell, the devil whispered through the streets, barely a passing shadow to be seen as he wandered. In his right hand, he idly fingered the silver bullet Ranka had sent along with his message. Somewhere, this token would bring him to his old friend.

[Ranka]

The phone in Sparda's pocket immediately began to rang.

[Sparda]

Apparently it was fortunate that Sparda had decided to hold onto the phone. Until shortly before he left, he had thought Ranka wouldn't risk such a communication again, that he'd rely on a more obtuse clue to ensure no unwanted surveillance. It seemed Ranka believed them to be safe enough to use the phone again.

The devil took it from his inside pocket, flipping it open and putting it to his ear.
"I'm here... A lot's changed."

[Ranka]

Ranka's response came in an instant. ''You have no idea.''

Legion had left an entire sector of the city in shambles. Cleaning efforts had managed to clear the streets of rubble, though few civilians ever bothered to venture in the ruins of their old homes anymore. At night, this part of Isafaro was quieter than a tomb. The vampire's voice came through the earpiece again.

''Second alley to your right.''

[Sparda]

Guided by Ranka's instruction, Sparda peered through the darkness and located the alley. So he was being watched. It made sense that Ranka would have familiars spread out as eyes in the streets; the devil had been aware of the notion since he began scouting with his own familiars to make sure he wasn't being followed.

With the phone still to his ear, he ducked into the alley.

[Ranka]

The headlights of a black car came on just as Sparda turned the corner, blinding him to the contents of the alley. Damn. Isafaro had found him. But it quickly became apparent that there was more to this. There was no unit waiting to apprehend him. No distinctive laser sights on his coat or the sound of hammers being pulled back and guns ready to fire. None of it.

Sounds of footsteps began to echo over the low rumbling of car-engine until the silhouette of a corporately-dressed man came in view, casting a shadow over the Legendary Dark Knight. The closer he came, the more obvious it became that he was also holding a cellphone until he flipped it shut. The line over Sparda's phone was cut the same instant.

Eventually the detail of the man became clearer, and it was obvious that he was in fact very well dressed. In a shadow-stripe ensemble that covered a dark button-up shirt and a tuscan-red vest and tie, the suit only helped to accentuate the man's impeccably styled stark black hair and ruby irises cast against his pale vampiric complexion. The cadence of his neatly waxed black, buckled leather shoes only stopped as he did, a few feet away from the stunned Sparda. One hand in his pocket, the other holding the cellphone, a subtle grin from the corner of the man's lips could be seen as he addressed his old friend.

''Long time no see.''

[Sparda]

The moment the headlights flared into life, the seemingly languid Sparda sprang into action to prepare himself for what he immediately thought to be a Vulture ambush. He threw his right arm across to shield his face, turning away slightly as his left hand shot down into his coat and settled on Ombra's grip... but no gunshots came. As it turned out, there was no Isafaro trap waiting for him.

Slowly, the devil relaxed. And as the shadows crept across the alley to shroud the full-beam headlights and alleviate his blindness, he looked upon the sharp-clad figure walking towards him, a slow gait of foosteps echoing over the purr of his engine. Ombra remained in her holster, and the Dark Knight was at last face to face with one of the people he'd missed most.

"Ranka..." Smiling, Sparda stepped forward. He flipped his phone shut and pocketed it, approaching his old friend. His right hand rose up, firmly clasping Ranka's left shoulder in greeting. "I'm glad to see you again."

[Ranka]

The vampire returned the gesture in kind, inviting the demon to the vehicle which now obviously looked like a government issued limousine. ''Get in.''

[Sparda]

Sparda had to take a second, closer look at the car now that he could see it more clearly. There was no way that high-end machine could belong to a civilian.

"Must have some connections to have gotten your hands on this thing," the devil remarked. "No surprise there." He began walking towards the vehicle. He stopped very briefly to examine it - fully tinted windows prevented any sight inside - before climbing into the rear passenger seat on the right-hand side.

[Ranka]

Ranka followed suit on the other side of the car sitting opposite to Sparda in the spacious back cabin. He nodded lightly to the comment, though he suspected the aristocrat would have questions later. The vehicle began to move as soon as the door was shut, beginning its trip towards the center of the city and through the wreckage left by the artificial Arashi. Although all human remains had been removed, it was clear that many ghosts still haunted this area. The vampire moved his attention to the small bar where he pulled out two glasses and generously poured Scotch whisky on ice, offering one to the devil while taking the other for himself.

''I believe this has been long overdue.''

[Sparda]

For a short while, Sparda gazed levelly at the crystal glass tumbler as if he suspected its contents to be poisoned. At last he took it from his old friend and gave an experimental sip, which he took a moment to savour. A little smoky, but close enough to his preferred taste.

"Long overdue indeed," he concurred, raising the glass to toast the Silver Bullet. "The things I've seen and done here... The story is far too long by now. So how did you come about all this so quickly? How long have you even been here?"

[Ranka]

The vampire took a few sips from the content of his own drink before cupping the glass in his hand. He thought about the question while looking out the window, the street lights softly dashing across his features as the limousine sped passed the first series of checkpoints in the interior of the city. How long indeed - he wondered about the footage he had seen of his friends from the Red Queen's database and how Amoura had in fact not died from her encounter with Validus years ago. The thoughts in his mind silenced everything else around him, and he knew he remained mute for a very long time. Still Sparda's questions were fair, and he decided to answer.

''I was trapped.'' He said absently, his eyes still on the street. ''The Ghost of Legion got to me - contained me - and when I was released I ended up in Isafaro.'' He took another sip. He would have rather forgotten his encounter with Tajna Rasha and the state it had forced him to leave Domino city in. By now his homeworld was likely still ravaged by the forces of hell. Still there was no use in thinking about that now. He took a healthy gulp of his drink before turning his eyes back to Sparda. ''When I came to, fifteen days ago, I infiltrated Vulture's infrastructure and acquired a number of resources that allowed me to get into their systems.'' He reached over to a black binder next to the bar before handing it to Sparda. ''There are still some technicalities to work through, but you could say I am now officially on my way to becoming Isafaro's next president.''

[Sparda]

Where there's a minibar in any vehicle, there's a place to put one's drink on the move. Sparda set his glass down in one such holder before him and took the binder, opening it and leafing through its contents. Official Vulture documentation of various descriptions; supply manifests, informer safehouse maps and the like.

It was when he reached the back pages that Sparda's interest was well caught. One of them was a print-out of a personnel profile - for one Ranka Darkbroode. The notes therein spoke of his candidacy for succession of General Vulture...

''There are still some technicalities to work through, but you could say I am now officially on my way to becoming Isafaro's next president.''

Sparda gazed up at the vampire, his disbelief written clear across his face. For a long time, he couldn't find the words to speak, and merely shook his head.

"Jherra's greatest military power, at your fingertips... You've accomplished more in fifteen days than I have in over a year. Truly, the Silver Bullet has returned to us."

[Ranka]

The vampire nodded quietly. ''And no one can know.'' He added.

[Sparda]

Of course. Ranka had always preferred to act in secrecy, away from his allies. In fact, he usually only contacted them when he needed something; which brought Sparda to his next question.

"So what do you need from me?" He set the binder down and reached for his scotch. "You didn't call me here just to share this. It would be easier to keep to yourself as you always do, unless I needed to know for some reason."