Nightside 02 - Agents of Light and Darkness

Gun. It didn’t fool Walker in the least, but he went along with it.
    “Their position is that they don’t have a position. We are on the sidelines in this, and intend to stay there until all the violence and mass destruction are safely over, one way or another. Then we will return, to supervise the picking up of pieces.”
    “People are going to get hurt,” I said. “Good people.”
    “This is the Nightside,” said Walker. “Good people don’t come here.” He smiled at Suzie. “Good to see you out and working again, my dear. You know I worry about you so.”
    “I like to think of you being worried,” said Suzie. The gun she had on him hadn’t wavered once.
    “Don’t you care at all about the carnage that’s coming?” I said, and the anger rising in my voice brought his gaze snapping back to me. “If angels go to war in the Nightside, the whole place could end up as rubble, or one big cemetery. What happens to your precious status quo then?”
    Walker looked at me almost sadly. “The Nightside will survive, no matter how many people die. The major players will survive, and all the more important businesses. They’re protected. No-one else matters, in the great scheme of things. And no, Taylor, I don’t care how many die. Because the Nightside has never been more than a job to me. If I had my way, I’d wipe out the whole sick freak show and start over. But I have my orders.”
    “And the Unholy Grail?”
    Walker pursed his lips, and shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. The odds are it’s just another religious con job, another fake relic for fools to fight over. There have been more versions of the true Grail passing through here than there were copies of the Maltese Falcon. And even if this Unholy Grail does turn out to be the real thing, from what I’ve seen of its history, it’s never brought anyone any real happiness or lasting power. Let the angels take it away, to Above or Below. We’re better off without it. The Unholy Grail is nothing more than tinsel and glamour and shoddy dreams, just like everything else in the Nightside.”
    “And if it is… what everyone’s afraid it is?” said Suzie.
    “Then it’s just as well you and Taylor are on the job, isn’t it? So, off you go. Have fun. Try not to break anything too important. But if you do get your hands on the Unholy Grail, don’t be foolish enough to hang on to the dreadful thing yourselves. I have to go to enough funerals in the line of duty as it is. The best you’ll be able to achieve in this appalling business is to decide which side to hand it over to. Which may not be as straight forward as you think. You see, I know who your client really is. And you only think you do.”
    I started to say something, but Walker had already turned his back on us and was walking unhurriedly away. Head held high and back ramrod straight, as always. He’d said everything he’d come to say, sowed all the right doubts, and now wild horses couldn’t drag another word out of him. I shook my head slowly. No-one can mess with your mind like Walker.
    Suzie continued to cover him with her shotgun until he rounded a corner and was safely out of sight, then she holstered the gun with one swift motion, and turned to me. “What was that all about, Taylor? Who is our client?”
    “The Vatican, supposedly.” I scowled thoughtfully. “Represented by an undercover priest called Jude.”
    “Like in St. Jude’s?”
    “Presumably. It occurs to me now that I never did check out his credentials properly. I don’t usually slip up like that. There’s just something about the man… that makes you want to trust him. Which in the Nightside should be automatic grounds for suspicion. If we do get our hands on the Unholy Grail, I think I’ll make a point of asking some really awkward and pointed questions before I hand it over to anyone. Come on, Suzie. Let’s get over to the Fourth Reich’s headquarters. Before someone else does.”

    The old assembly room currently hosting the last great hope of the Fourth Reich was situated at the end of a quiet side street, in a largely residential area. The kind of place where people kept to themselves, minded their own business, and watched the world from behind drawn curtains. The street was empty, the night unusually quiet. Suzie and I strolled down the deserted street, our footsteps sounding unusually loud and carrying. No-one appeared to challenge us as we approached the assembly room. Which