Rook

injected, scanned, and scraped, found her eyelids drooping. But she managed to extract several key facts from the lecture. According to various reports:
    (a) A nondescript man walked into the station and, with his bare hands, broke the neck of the person closest to him before turning and locking the door he had come through. A largeconstable had gone after him with a collapsible baton and had his head actually punched off his torso for his trouble. At that point, the entire station had mobilized, weapons were fetched, and in a few moments the man was looking down the barrels of a number of guns and some Tasers. He surveyed the room with a raised eyebrow and gave a snort of amusement. Then,
(b) after ignoring instructions to drop his weapon, he shrugged off the many, many bullets that thudded into his body. Regarding the blank stares of the cops with a smirk, the man raised his arms, and, with a grunt of effort (according to the emergency call of the frantic police chief),
(c) “he made these sort of fleshy tentacle things just
explode
out of his arms, reach out, and impale the people around the room. There was blood splashing everywhere, and then he reeled the people in, and his skin started eating out over them, pulling them into his body. And now he’s growing all lumpy because they’re inside of him, and he’s getting huge and—oh my God, no! Send help! Please!”
(d) The Checquy mobilized immediately and arrived to find the streets around the station nearly deserted, since the good people of Reading were not accustomed to hearing barrages of gunfire emanating from the police station on a Saturday afternoon. The sounds of the firearms, combined with unearthly screams and blood spattering on the windows, had served to drive a large portion of the populace away. The Reading Checquy’s Situation Response Team arrived almost immediately, isolated the area, gently ushered the remaining onlookers away, and deterred the media.
     
    “With your approval, Rook Thomas, I will be retaining command of the operation. The Barghests were automatically called in and you were notified because we’re at some color crisis level,” finished Cyrus.
    “Chartreuse,” said Pawn Alan helpfully. Everybody looked at him, and he shrank a little under their regard.
    “I’m sorry, who is this?” asked Pawn Cyrus.
    “This is Li’l Paw… I’m sorry, this is Pawn Alan… something,” fumbled Myfanwy.
    “Summerhill,” ventured Pawn Alan.
    “Pawn Alan here heard something that I am going to need to tell you,” said Myfanwy to Cyrus, “and which no one in this car is going to tell anyone else. Now, you know how everyone in the organization is scheduled for these medical examinations?”
    “Yes, I heard that they’re not pleasant,” said Pawn Cyrus. “Should I be worried?”
    “Oh, no, they’re great,” said Myfanwy. “But the reason we’re having them is the same reason we have people getting shot and, er, impaled in Reading.”
    “I’m not certain I understand,” said Pawn Cyrus.
    “It’s the Grafters,” said Myfanwy, and she watched as the blood drained out of his face. Her focus was disrupted, however, when the large bodyguard dropped his gun and everyone in the car flinched.
    “Now, Cyrus,” Myfanwy said, after the large guard had shamefacedly picked up his gun, “the information I have given you cannot be shared with anyone. I can only hope it will help you with the approach you take to this operation, which you will, of course, retain command of. The Barghests will be yours to unleash. I am here just to observe.” She tried not to think of the last time she’d appeared just to observe. From the expression on his face, Cyrus was trying not to think of it either.
    “Is this the beginning of another invasion?” he asked anxiously.
    “No,” said Myfanwy. “At least, I don’t think so. I gather that this is more of a warning. But of course, there’s always the possibility the Grafters might take advantage of a moment of weakness, so we need to subdue this quickly.” Cyrus was looking ill, and Li’l Pawn Alan looked like he was going to burst into tears. Myfanwy felt a headache coming on in the very front of her head.
    “So,” she said, “Cyrus, do you happen to know anything about a John Perry?”
    “Of course,” said Cyrus.
    “A John Perry from Reading?” she said suspiciously.
    “Of course. John Perry from Reading,” said Cyrus. “Rook John Perry.”
    “
Rook
John Perry?” repeated