Katarina Gordislava descended to the tarmac, the plane’s engines still whirring to a stop. Her pale skin illuminated in the glow of the moon, she walked directly to a waiting sedan, its windows tinted dark enough that they seemed opaque. In fact, they were – at least in the spacious backseat.

Shelia Ortega looked over the front seat at her passengers as Ivan climbed in to sit beside her. "It is good to see you, Archbishop."

Katarina grunted non-committedly Sergei beside her saying nothing. "What is the situation with our comrades here in London?"

Shelia pulled the sedan off the tarmac and into the early morning traffic out of Heathrow Airport. It was 4 am, and sunrise would be upon them in less than an hour.. "Not good, Archbishop."

"I will need more than that, Shelia." Katarina laced her fingers together in her lap.

The South American lesombra shrugged as she pulled the car onto a highway that was mostly empty. "I am afraid I cannot do better. The bishop refused to speak with us, though he put up with our presence in their haven. He is waiting for you."

"As he should be." Irritated, but not quite sure why, Katarina looked out through the windshield. It was just as well there was no one else on the road - had anyone looked through their rearward mirrors at the sedan they would have been shocked to find no one in the driver's seat. Usually they would have had a ghoul doing the driving, but it seemed that the London chapter of the Sabbat had invented the meaning of 'roughing it.' They would do without a great many things that she was used to.

Ivan shifted in the passanger seat, scrubbing thick fingers through his brush cut. "Is the Haven adequate?"

"It is. There were a few security issues, but we have taken care of them." Sheila's eyes didn't leave the road. "There is ample food, though the Sabbat here number but a few."

Something in her tone caught Katarina's attention. "How many are there?"

"Bishop Montague oversees but two packs. They know of no others in the city." The sedan pulled smoothly off the highway and into an industrial area. "The Cammies are unusually alert and rumors fly through the air. I would not be surprised if our ranks thin more as the fearful leave."

Rodermark must be furious after the successful attack on the Barbican, just a few days before. The Lesombra of London, well hidden on the best of occasions, would be aching to disappear alltogether. She could understand why the Cardinal would want to send a strong leader into London to strengthen resolve, and perhaps encourage more to join the ranks.

If they survived the first week. If Rodermark had not managed to find her by then it would be beyond the Camarilla to get her out of London.