“Ern, what the hell was that?”

Dave eyed Ernest angrily, who could only give a defensive shrug. “I swear, Dave. You should’ve been here the other week, her act was entirely different.”

“Just get me a beer while I figure something out. Knox was expecting to hear back from me by the end of the week. I was supposed to get someone he can use, not some dancing bitch who fell on her own ass.”

“Holy shit, you’re going to see him?”

“Fuck that, he’s a fuckin’ psycho. If I show up empty-handed, I leave with an empty sack—‘cause he’s gonna take my balls. I’d be lucky if that’s all he takes.”

The sound of his own heartbeat wracked his mind as he clutched his temples. He was in too deep, and now the walls were closing in. “[i]You’re a fuck-up, David.[/i]” The words of his father rang in his head. “[i]You’ll always be a fuck-up.[/i]” Ernest watched his friend with concern, sliding a bottle over to him. Dave snatched it quickly and downed it in a blink, desperately trying to grasp the first plausible idea that he could come up with. Like hell he was going out like a cornered coyote.

“Alright,” Dave said, his nerves dulled by alcohol. “Remember what I said last time we met up?”

“That we’re professionals.”

“That we’re goddamned professionals, Ern. And what don’t professional do?”

“They don’t crack under pressure, Dave.”

“Fucking right. Now, you mentioned before that you got insiders about that RFS job?”

“Yeah but—Dave, I don’t like where you’re going with this.”

“Well I wouldn’t be fucking bringing it up if we had any other option. This isn’t Plan B, it’s Plan Z. Plan Fucking Zed, Ern. You’re gonna hate what I’m asking for here, but if we don’t make a move we’re done.”

“…I’ll ask my guys.”

“Do that. In the meantime, I gotta duck Knox for a while. He won’t be too happy about me being late, but if we bring in a real ringer, I’ll at least get to keep my boys. Let’s get moving. Quickly.”

With that final exchange, the two of them parted ways and left the Heritage. Catherine bolted towards the exit at the end of the hall but would be stopped by the sound of chimes, and a sense of dread in the air. A voice then called out to her with an ominous warning.

“I know not where you seek to go, but you will not get far without direction.”

When Cat turned to the direction of the voice, a familiar figure stood before her. An old woman presented herself, wearing a black shawl and purple silken dress. Half of her face was obscured by a decorative mask, and in her eyes was a cold, solemn gaze. It appeared the night was full of ghosts from Catherine’s past. The old woman’s eyes pierced through her, as if watching two souls at odds.

“It has been quite some time, dear. I trust you are still in good health?”