Micael leaned back in rich leather desk chair, placing the phone back on the receiver. He grimaced. Gin was right, Ra's was after him. Then again, the Necromancer was after everyone. 

"Gin, I don't even give a fuck about the phone. Please, just tell me what the hell is going on. I don't want to be thrown into darkness on this one." Effy said, being unusually stubborn. Was this how Casey felt when he had pointed at her head? Trapped and desperate for a way out? Her eyes pleaded with him, the spark that they once held beginning to fade. Fear began to fill her like water. She felt helpless, like she was losing control. "I will not leave this house until you tell me what the fuck is going on. I don't mean the small bits and pieces, but every.fucking.thing." Normally she would have never raised her voice at Gin, but desperate times called for desperate measures. God was she desperate.