“I came looking for you,” the redheaded woman told her, spreading a note on the table in the small room.  Seeing the instructions typed there, Yvonne's brows fell with confusion.  “Perhaps you have sent for me? Or not. It matters little. We have much to discuss.” With a nod, Isolde asked,  “Before I begin, and this is a long story, would you like to share anything with me?”<br/><br/>The blonde shook her head slowly.  "This was not me," she answered, pale green eyes trailing up to the blue opposite her.  There she saw Isolde asking something much deeper than simply whether she had made the note.  She wanted to know the purpose behind it, true. What she wanted more, maybe, was hope.  Another silence spread between them, Yvonne wondering what would be best spoken now, how she could comfort this person with so much anger and yet so much patience.  Her relief upon seeing Yvonne was unexpected and especially the admission of trust, but it had uplifted the angel's spirit with even more surprise at the elation she felt, but why?  She had given this woman all the space she could require.  Who had advised Ms. Devereaux to meet her?  And why?<br/><br/>Someone knew them both, and there was only person she could draw-up who fit that bill: one Oberstlutenant Erlind Kohler.  One man who had his partner killed.  One demon with an agenda she did not know and a history with the woman before she didn't fully understand.  It all screamed a trap to her, so unless there was someone who hadn't come to the foreground meddling in these businesses, something far more frightening would have to take place.<br/><br/>She would have to trust a demon.<br/><br/>"For the past six months, I have been rescuing the rats- the<span style="font-style: italic">Jews</span>from the concentration camps.  Not all, but many who were sentenced to death.  As I told you the last time we met, I am a warrior of God and you are His Chosen - I will do whatever it takes to protect you, give your path foundation, or carry-on your plans.  You helped those people, so it was my duty to do the same, and by your measure, not mine.  I shut the door on their deaths, replacing their bodies with those that had gone before, sparing them the gases that were not spared of others so that they might live to grace His name and your ideologies, thus hopefully your expectations of me.  You are on a Divine quest, whether you know it, believe it, or are otherwise inclined to accept.  I am here to help on your holy mission be it with or without your acceptance of this or myself, though I think it would be much easier on either of us if you were to understand my sincerity and trust me like you have today to<span style="font-style: italic">do my job.</span>"<br/><br/>Yvonne clamped her mouth shut, realizing how much she'd said.  There was more honesty spilling from her mouth than had been in quite some time and the relief of saying it was difficult to bare in the face of judgement.  Some part of her resented the healer, but respectfully so - two forces acting in different directions towards the same end - and she knew that their unity could render nothing less than success of the tasks ahead, glory by His hand, and victory over the darkness.  If the sender of that message was whom she believed, that darkness was closer than the woman could see and it was Wojcik's duty to burn it clean before her eyes. That would be impossible to do from miles away.  She needed this Isolde Devereaux to invite her in, metaphorically-speaking.  Her foot in the door still meant the door could be slammed on her, and she was tired of knocking politely, she was ready to storm the premises and get to work.  Patience paid off, but it was drawn like a well in the desert.<br/><br/>She sighed, regaining her composure.  "I have little to ask of you but to trust me.  Whatever you have to ask of me, I will do.  Please, just give me the chance."