Mezmoriia nodded politely at the prisoner's reply. She seemed to be coming to just fine - now for the next part. She continued, in the same friendly sort of tone she'd adopted earlier. And why not? She'd already won.<br/><br/>"Mhm. It really was quite helpful, thank you. But I think you can be of further help still. You know dear Ms. Nettles very well, I'd wager... And would make quite the bargaining chip if it comes to that. I hope it doesn't, by the way - it's not my style."<br/><br/>She looked down at her desk, covered in various reports and maps she'd been looking over in the mean time. An inquisitor's duties never end - sometimes you get to interrogate a prisoner or cast someone into an oubliette, but there are a thousand stupid banalities besides that - orders to delegate, confessions to sign off on, supplies to requisition, police to liason with... There hadn't been much time at all to get much work done while Nadya was unconscious; she'd woken up surprisingly quickly. A sudden fear tugged at her - had the dose possibly been wrong? And if so, might Nadya come to understand the actual sequence of events? - but was quickly silenced. Her people were professionals, and besides, this technique had worked hundreds of times before. A feeling of vague irritation crept in to replace it - she'd only just gotten all this paperwork out, and now she'd have to organize it again. She stood up with a quiet sigh and began stacking it up again.<br/><br/>On the other hand, if she left quickly, she'd be able to catch up to her expedition. Bringing her quarry to justice personally would be nice.<br/><br/>"It's not poison, you know," she said upon happening to pass near the coffee tray.<br/><br/>Within a minute, her paperwork was stacked up again. She'd decided to worry about it later, and turned to her prisoner again.<br/><br/>"I hope you're well enough to travel. The nurse told me to give you more time to recuperate, but we don't have that time. Haeftin will be by momentarily to take you over. Please, don't do anything stupid in the mean time - you'll just injure yourself further, and besides, I had your feet shackled."<br/><br/>She placed the various paperwork into a waiting folder, picked it up, and unceremoniously departed.<br/><br/><div><hr style="height:2px; width:100%; border:0; color: WHITE;background:WHITE;"/></div><br/>Mezmoriia's expedition made good time toward the safehouse. Fossil's group had a head start, but a fishing trawler simply wasn't that fast. And Mezmoriia's standing orders called for a cavalry detachment to be kept ready for deployment at a moment's notice - at first yielding nothing but irritation from the cavalry in question, until their successes in battle showed the wisdom of such preparation.<br/><br/>The vanguard had deployed as soon as Krunn had made his report. These were elite skirmishers, equipped lightly for speed but trained to fight much heavier units. They were a disciplined and ferociously loyal bunch, and the reputation of their red horses was as effective a weapon as their red blades. They'd adopted the ironically low-key nickname of "the retrieval squad", and they rode hard.<br/><br/>Behind them came a supply convoy. Ms. Nettles had proven worringly elusive, and Mezmoriia was willing to expend significant resources to the task of retrieving her. It wasn't personal pride, at least not primarily - that she could have a contact so deep in the military hierarchy still intrigued the inquisitor. She'd learned when to play her hunches. Riding among the pack horses was a certain unwilling member - Nadya had been lashed to one like a particularly unusual crate, whether for information or negotiation uncertain until it came up. The convoy's escorts were ordinary soldiers, armored and armed heavily, and one rode next to her with his sword clearly visible.<br/><br/>And between the two - Mezmoriia herself, and her irrepresible adjutant. She wanted to be there when they apprehended their target - but not so close as to risk being caught in an ambush. Seeing the look on her face wouldn't be worth the risk - pride before a fall and all that.<br/><br/>And so, with the last vestiges of sunlight fading from the sky and mere hours after Fossil's group had reached the house, the first wave of riders did the same. Their captain gave an order to stop, dismount, and move with caution and stealth.<br/><br/>"Bravo, Charlie, split and encircle. Alpha, you're with me. Delta, stand by for backup or interception. We don't have a kill order; let the target escape rather than kill her. Any secondary targets are valid kills."<br/><br/>Her team spread out to carry out her orders. Two groups diverged around the house, monitoring possible exit points. A third drew crossbows and remained near the horses. The remainder followed their captain up to the porch of the house with the red door and rapped upon it.<br/><br/>"By the power invested in me as an operative of our glorious army," she hollered inward, "I order you to open this door! Failure to comply will just get it smashed open, so there's really no point being difficult."<br/><br/>The captain smirked to herself. Civilians. They'd have their quarry before Mezmoriia even got within earshot. That's the stuff reputations like theirs were made of.