<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">"You know where my loyalties lie and you hold no position over me with Him." </span></span><br/><br/>When the police officer stormed into the clinic with a message to Erlind, the man opened the folded paper and read it quickly. He gave a nod to the officer and shifted his eyes back to Yvonne; now at the presence of Officer Fabiano. Erlind raised a brow as Udo approached the clinic, followed by three other men. It looked like that the interrogation with Isolde Devereaux was not going to be private. He expected it. It was certainly something he could not avoid. The woman was innocent and had nothing to do with the assassination attempts. But how was he to prove the regime that she was innocent without blowing up his cover? He needed to act, and act quickly. Play it their way. Give them what they want. Proceed with the interrogation even if that meant in the presence of the man who went behind his back to report whatever information to the Colonel.<br/><br/>The Oberstleutnant gave Yvonne a nod without adding any form of protest. He approached the matter the way it should be approached. Words had no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality. Words were mankind's most aggressive weapon. She won this time. He gave her the favor. It was only true. She did hold a much better position with the Creator more than himself did nowadays. It did not matter. Let her or her likes crawl through life upon her knees, while he strides through his life on his feet. Her words did not anger him though. Truth never took the best of him, and those words were true enough to keep him silenced.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“We may begin...”</span>He approached Isolde with a confident and organized manners.  He pushed papers and other objects on the reception desk aside and leaned back against it, sitting in a way where his feet were still touching the ground. Suddenly he saw it coming. The bullet. In slow motion. Piercing through a 250m range, mid-way towards the clinic. Calculating its speed in meters per second, Erlind could only believe that the person who fired the bullet was positioned at a 500m distance from the building. The oblique angle of the bullet uncovered the assassin's position. He must be on a roof top. Erlind found himself moving away from the desk, mouth agape. While everything around him moved at a normal pace in the real time, the spectacle itself within his vision range moved at a slower speed. The bullet now lost a fraction of it's momentum. The high velocity of the bullet focused on a small area of the glass window, making a perfect small hole and as the generated heat of the bullet speed created expansion between the glass molecules as it passed through it; it piercing the spot where Fabiano's collar bone and the neck connected. The sound faded out for a few seconds as Erlind tried to compose his thoughts. In his time lived on earth, he had<span style="font-style: italic">never</span>seen such a perfect shot in human history.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Get him to the table.”  </span><br/><br/>The noise started to fade back in rapidly and it was Isolde's voice that sucked him back into reality.<br/><br/>Erlind hurried beside Isolde.<span style="font-style: italic"> “He’s been shot. Wounds like that are lethal.”</span>He muttered to her and shook his head. There was nothing he could do. He had no power over death. The Demon glanced at Officer Wojcik from under his brows to take note of the state of shock on her face, blood had splattered on her since the man was standing right beside her. He tilted his head and said nothing for a long while. Erlind pulled away from Fabiano and crossed his fingers behind his neck nervously before snapping as more police men stormed into clinic. In the distance, he heard the sirens of the red cross ambulance moving nearer and nearer from the nearby hospital.<br/><br/>_____________________________________________________<br/><br/><br/>As Fabiano struggled to breath, the world began to darken around him.<br/><br/>There was no sense of well-being.<br/><br/>There was no sense of peace.<br/><br/>There was only darkness... suffering... an agony unlike anything a living person could have experienced. His vision became blurry and he violently gripped Isolde by the wrist, tears of pain streaming down his bloody cheeks, nails sinking into the Nurse's skin as he fell unconscious.<br/><br/>An immense brightness suddenly surrounded him as he felt himself being pulled away from his vessel. A beam of pure white light  emitting from the blonde woman – Yvonne - slashed through the darkness which surrounded him. The man saw himself covered in blood.<span style="font-style: italic">“Come on , fight it, live, damn you,”</span>He slowly moved his  face towards the Nurse, watching her fighting for his own life... an enemy's life.<span style="font-style: italic">Let me go</span>, he whispered into the Nurse's ear, staring past her at his own body.<br/><br/>He was suddenly sucked back into his vessel. His eyes grew wide open, his back arched. His fingers curled around Yvonne's thumb and blood poured out of his mouth; chocking on one last, faint sigh.<br/><br/>Then his body grew still.<br/><br/>His head fell slowly back and to the side and lifeless watered dark eyes locked on Yvonne's form, seeing her for who she truly was - an idea of God.<br/><br/>Her luminous face... Her face inked into his brain... He drew her like an unfinished painting, and whatever he drew of her was his own<span style="font-style: italic">forever</span>.<br/><br/>And no one... No one will take that last image away from him.<br/><br/>_____________________________________________________<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“And this is the help you were vowed to bring? His blood be on your hands!” </span><br/><br/>Erlind gasped as the Nurse pummeled him on the chest, during which he eventually just let her do. Absent-minded and for an instant ignoring the presence of the Nazis in the lobby room, he gripped Isolde forcefully by the shoulders and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling the back of her neck with his hand. He felt no joy inside her. There was only despair.<br/><br/>For the first time ever in ages, he felt the muscles around his black, rotten heart tighten behind his rib cage, and he drew silent tears. Tears not for himself, but for... another.<br/><br/>_____________________________________________________<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">Italy, Naples</span></span><br/><br/>In a pure state of shock, a man in a blue suit lost control of the vehicle he drove down the Spaccanapoli street. The car slid into a large metal barrier and flipped over. The man screamed as the vehicle continued to slide on its shoulder.<br/><br/>It hit a passing van. The force of the impact ejected the man, Luciano, from his vehicle and into the sidewalk.