Part 3: News Tonight

Semmelweis: ...?!
She swiftly sidesteps, maintaining her balance as the bullet whizzes past her.
No second shot follows. The attacker is merely probing, not aiming to kill.
Semmelweis: Who are you?!
The figure raises up a menacing dagger. The blade is slim, with a curved edge tapering to a point. A favorite of the Italian mafia.
More disturbing still is the scent, identical to the blood from Nora Ostern's house.
Focusing on the blade's trajectory, she bends her knees and leaps back. Feeling the tingle of blood rushing to her toes.
The assailant's attacks are random and almost playful.
Growing impatient, she knows she must end this fight quickly.
Seeing her chance, she lunges forward and grabs her attacker's neck, causing him to freeze. She has him now, and bares her fangs for the strike.
Suddenly, there is a sharpness at her throat. A glance confirms it, another blade.
Semmelweis: ...!
In a fluid motion, she strikes at his wrist, forcing the knife from his hand as she pulls back from him.
The knife spins through the air and lands with a clink.
A beam of moonlight cuts through the trees, illuminating the path between them. In the half-light, Semmelweis recognizes his face.
Semmelweis: You're ... with the Foundation ...
Pavia: Oh, it's you.
Pavia: I've heard about you, our "Red-Eyed Lazarus," who was half-dead one day and up and about the next.
Semmelweis: How did you find me?
Semmelweis: I was in shadow form. How was I exposed? The scent from the recovery center? Or the shampoo I used yesterday?
Pavia: Wolves can sniff out trouble from a mile away.
Pavia: Of course, not all trouble is bad, if it's the right kind. Juicy gossip is the perfect appetizer for the diners around the Wiener Staatsoper!
Pavia: All the young artists dreaming of making it big, building themselves up and tearing their so-called friends down.
Pavia: The over-loud whispers of some washed-up star about who is sleeping with who, declaring the truth of each and every kind of scandal.
Pavia: But you? You don't strike me as someone who dishes out catty remarks. No, you seem more like the type to cause all the wrong kind of trouble, like being picky, skipping bills, and laying ambushes.
Semmelweis: Ambush? Was it not you that tried to kill me? Is this how you greet your colleagues?
Pavia: I haven't tried to kill you just yet, first I need you to tell me where Nora Ostern is.
Pavia: Che cazzo! Why does everyone here love to vanish?
Semmelweis: What is it that you want from her? And under whose authority? No one mentioned any other agents being assigned to this mission.
Pavia: Ah, so you're on a mission, huh, well, your business is none of my concern.
Pavia chuckles softly, wiping his blade with his shirt sleeve.
Semmelweis: Allow me to ask again, why has the Timekeeper sent you to Vienna?
Pavia: I know nothing of the "why" at all, it isn't my job to ask. All I know is this Nora Ostern has something she wants, and I thought it best to have some fun in Vienna while I'm free.
Semmelweis: Could it be that the Timekeeper ordered an egg from Nora Ostern? Are you here to pick it up for her?
Semmelweis: Unbelievable! How could the Timekeeper have allowed this?
Pavia: Well, my resignation letter is still sitting in her drawer, and it's been there for a while. So, I figured I might as well stay on the job for now.
Pavia: Naturally, that doesn't mean I want any part in your little mission here.
Semmelweis: But then you've already been to Nora Ostern's house. Were you the one that picked the lock on her drawer?
Pavia: Hey, listen! I don't do that kind of delicate namby-pamby work. It wasn't me. Capiche?
Pavia: But I was there, and I didn't find what the boss was after. So, I waited around to see if someone else would have an explanation. Then some other woman came in smelling like burnt ... burnt something, anyways—
Semmelweis: A woman was it; did you happen to catch a glimpse of her face?
Pavia: Nah, she was just like you, hiding herself in the darkest shadows. What did you call that "Shadow Form"? Whatever. Don't tell me, I don't care what you call it.
Semmelweis: So, she's a vampire too.
Pavia: Yeah, and a rude one at that. She didn't even bother with a greeting before charging at me. So, I, well, let's just say I aimed to slit her throat.
Semmelweis: You fought?
Pavia: My first swipe missed—she was fast like you too. But she showed a weakness, and my second strike hit square on her shoulder.
Pavia: Of course, then she went and grabbed some useless black egg and smashed it on me. Didn't hurt none, so I have to wonder what was she even thinking?
Semmelweis: Ah, it's coming together clearly now. That explains the bloodstains. You wounded her, and she fled into this forest.
Pavia: You two have the same scent. So, when you went sneaking back in there like a ghost, I thought she must have come back for round two—though that would've been a pathetic fight.
Pavia: Come to think of it, she had burns similar to yours as well.
Semmelweis chuckles as Pavia points to her neck. She has given up trying to mask her annoyance.
Semmelweis: What are the odds she'll survive your attack?
Pavia: Survive? Not going to happen! She's like you, got those same eyes, and I know what that means.
Pavia: She won't last long. Not without fresh blood.
Semmelweis: Perhaps, but if she is still bleeding, it means she has not run dry yet.
Semmelweis: She will need blood to heal. And since she apparently hasn't succeeded in finding what she was looking for, she'll likely show up here again. We can use that to catch her.
Pavia: We? What's this "we" business? Leave me out of it.
Semmelweis: Are we not colleagues?
Pavia: I wouldn't have taken you for the "teamwork" kind.
She shrugs as if reaffirming her noncommittal nature.
Semmelweis: Forget it for now. You mentioned we have the same scent. That means she's also been exposed to mycelium. If so, she may very well be our kidnapper.
Pavia: Oh yeah, and why would she be kidnapping those women? Do egg painters got tastier blood or something?
Semmelweis: You're right. If all she wanted was their blood, wouldn't killing them outright be simpler?
Pavia: Then it's money. It's got to be.
Semmelweis: Money is certainly the most obvious motive, but the authorities haven't received any ransom demands.
Pavia: Well, it's been so long since anyone has heard from them, maybe it was not a kidnapping but a killing, and they're just lying in a ditch somewhere rotting.
Semmelweis: No. The eggs still showed up in time for the festival. As curious as that is, for whatever reason they must still be out there.
Semmelweis: It seems this vampire kidnapped the artists to force them to make mycelium eggs, then spread them throughout the city.
Semmelweis: Therefore, they must be held captive in some secret location, and if so, then her activities must keep close to that location. So that she can keep them monitored.
Semmelweis: But if she's encountered you, she must fear being hunted. She won't risk returning there tonight.
Semmelweis: In that case, continuing to track her will only play into her hands. The longer we wait, the more danger her hostages are in.
Semmelweis: Damn it. We need to figure out her identity quick, it will allow us to narrow down our investigation.
Pavia: Hah! All that talk and you wind up back at clueless. Alright, you've roped me in, but my instinct still says: money.
Pavia: Money is the greatest of all motives, delusion and desire mixed together. People always think just a little more money is all they need to change everything.
Pavia: You sound like one of those old drunks outside the theater, convinced they've found the winning lottery numbers on an old street sign!
She ignores Pavia's mocking, falling into deep contemplation.
Semmelweis: So then, why does she want these eggs? Or rather, why does she need the artists to make them for her? Is she not capable of doing so herself?
Pavia: Could be any reason, who knows? All I can see is that she's using others for her own gain.
Semmelweis: She targeted key members of the Artists' Guild, and did so by breaking into their homes to kidnap them. Evidently, she had intimate knowledge of the victims' personal lives.
Semmelweis: There were no signs of struggle at the scene, no forced entry marks on the doors, which suggests they knew each other. Perhaps the victims even let her in themselves.
Semmelweis: We can deduce that she knew the victims, logically she may have worked with them.
Pavia: Yeah right, I'm sure these humans were just fine with inviting a blood-sucking vampire into their homes. What do you think, she just knocked on the door and asked for a bite?
Semmelweis: Perhaps not, but it's possible she concealed her true nature. If she was a fellow artist, she could have used a work-related excuse to get inside.
Semmelweis: And since the eggs were placed around the city, she is using them for something grander than just their most obvious effects.
Semmelweis: She's even seen to it that the festival proceeds without interruption, so that everyone will open their eggs together.
Semmelweis: If that's the case, then everyone along the parade route would be affected by the mycelium powder. That's her plan—she intends to dose the entire population of Vienna.
Semmelweis: Then she must be observing everything. She will need to, to ensure it all goes to plan.
Pavia: Wacko, taking control of an entire festival? So, what, does she intend to drink the whole of Vienna dry? Or carve it up into her own personal vampire fiefdom?
Pavia: I think she's just trying to goad you. Force you into searching for her everywhere. It's clever, I admit.
Pavia: She'll wait until the time is pitch perfect. Then she'll emerge and make her move. For her, evading capture now is simply a game.
Pavia: If you want to catch her, you'll have to play her game.
Semmelweis: Play her game ...
There is something stirring in her mind.
An unmistakable sound pierces the air, breaking her from her thoughts—the wail of police sirens.
Police: Police! Hands up!
A bright white light pierces through the gaps between the trees. Instinctively, she raises her hands to shield her eyes from their lights.
Semmelweis: Why are the police here?
Police: We were called over a break-in nearby, apparently, we're looking for a man and a woman. That sound like anyone you know?
Semmelweis: Break-in? You mean at Nora Ostern's house. Officer, you will find I have an investigation permit from the Foundation. Oh! It's you!
Pavia: Hahaha! What, you really thought the regular old police were going to be on our tails that fast. Fat chance any of them are investigating that house tonight. They were just passing by.
Semmelweis: ...
Pavia: Come on, have a little humor, sunshine.
Semmelweis: No, no. You bring up an excellent point, let's go to the station and make a report!
Semmelweis moves to grab Pavia's wrist, but he slips away like a snake.
Pavia: Oh, now you're really surprising me.
Pavia: Tell me, did the Foundation really fix you?
Semmelweis: What?
Pavia: That wild look in your eyes, is the beast inside finally tamed?
Pavia: After I was "freed," I couldn't help myself imagining those poor souls clinging and pleading for their lives under my knife.
Pavia: Ah that fear, that delicious physical and mental reaction. Such thrilling memories.
Pavia: You're no different, blood-sucker. So, why don't we handle this in the most pleasurable way possible?
Pavia gestures.
Pavia: Bam! A bullet right through the skull! Just like that. And you'd be cheering beside me, "Well done! You son-of-a-b***h! On to the next one!"
Pavia: We've all got to get our kicks somewhere.
Semmelweis: I'm struggling to see your point.
Pavia: I mean that you can't exactly tell the cops I'm just your everyday casual door-crashing "gentleman thief," now, can you?
Pavia: They won't be inclined to work with you just because of that Foundation badge, more than likely they'll just brush you off.
Pavia: That's if they even listen, more than likely they'll just put me in a cage, and thank you for reporting this "suspicious activity." They won't give a toss.
Pavia: And hell, let's imagine it does work out for you, eh, what then?
Pavia: If the media catches wind, they'll blow things out of proportion and convince the public there's some bloodthirsty creature stalking the streets of Vienna. Panic everywhere, mass hysteria, think that will look good on your report?
Semmelweis: And what will they report about you "Dangerous former mercenary causes havoc in the streets?"
Pavia: Please, I don't give a damn about the media. But your bosses do.
Semmelweis: I can respect that.
Semmelweis: Then for tonight, we lie low. I can't have our actions at this pivotal time be excessively scrutinized.
Semmelweis: Goodbye.