The confessor was about to lecture her on the virtues of bodily pain when she ran off towards the wanton destruction of the once proud city of Bern. It seems she had been faking her injury after all, though something told him perhaps his mere rotary rifle wouldn't have been enough to put her down if they had come to blows. Seems the situation had worked out in everyone's favor then. She was a sly one, he had to admit, but she must have thought him a fool not to suspect her vaulting over his vehicle. When one lives their life as a spy master and religious leader, everything is suspect, especially such over the top theatrics. But, after thorough inspection of the vehicle he could not find hide nor hint of any sort of explosive or tracking device. 

It would matter little though, it was not more than two hours later that he was forced to abandon the vehicle, the road he would need to take to reach his destination was littered with the remains of countless vehicles, still stalled in traffic though their occupants long since gone. It was impassible by car, and once more he was forced to trek on foot, two of the three batteries he had scavenged now in tow. This part of the journey was short lived, as the men and women who he had attempted to flee from quickly gained the ground between them, their APCs with simple treads were able to go off the road, none of the vehicles he had spotted would fair well off pavement. With nothing but his life at stake, Isaac approached them, calling to speak with their leader. He was somewhat amused to find the great winged creature was their master, and they were following him. 

After perhaps an hour of persuasive rhetoric and sermon, he had convinced the cultists to allow him to travel with them. In truth it would be necessary to reach their intended destination. Only Isaac had any form of navigation. Without the clutter of the roads or any restriction from the natural land, they made excellent time to Munich, and the confessor readied himself to speak with the 'Prince of the Warp'.