Lazarus surveyed the condition of the Spit Fire, admiring the
work Lurm had done.  In a small clearing behind the cabin, the machine
rested on a sturdy, steel platform, its engines humming quietly in the
damp night air.	Some time ago this craft was army green, bearing numerous
Empire insignias, but now its surface was coated with pitch-black enamel
that seemed to absorb light, rather than reflect it.  The twin
cylindrical turbine engines had been rotated into a vertical position, in
preparation for a take-off.  The pilot's hatch was open, and small
blinking lights and numerous gauges could be seen inside.
	Running a greasy cloth over one of the Spit Fire's landing
struts, he glanced upward at the assassin.  "Where you off to this
evening?" he inquired mildly.
	Lazarus was silent for a few moments, then turned to look at the
crouching mechanic.  "Albrook, then Jidoor," he replied.
	Lurm stood up, tucking the cloth into his back pocket.  He was
not a great deal taller when standing.  Rubbing an oil-smeared hand on
the stained bandana he wore, he cleared his voice noisily.  "Well, if ye
don't mind me saying so, I'd advise against traveling to Albrook right now."
	The assassin's eyebrow arched dangerously as he waited for Lurm
to continue.
	"Right," Lurm muttered.  "Carrier pigeon from Luther arrived
while ye were in Zozo.  Seems Albrook's been, well, invaded."  The filthy
man flashed a set of yellow teeth in a grin.
	"What? By who?" Lazarus asked, genuinely astonished.
	Lurm looked his employer straight in the eye.  "The Empire, boss,
same ones that took Kohlingen," he said in a serious tone.
	"Bloody hell.  I had no idea they had become that strong.
Kohlingen's just a village... but Albrook..."  With a mumbled oath,
Lazarus turned away from Lurm, and rested a hand on the side of the Spit
Fire, deep in thought.
	"I still have to go to Jidoor.  As soon as Petrarch returns."
	Lurm nodded once.  "Well, this thing's ready to fly, whenever you
need it."
	Lazarus had been considering returning to the cabin when the
young man returned, breathless.  "Hell if that isn't a record run, Lurm,"
he exclaimed breathlessly.  "How long did it take me?"
	The mechanic snickered softly.  "I'd say, oh, an hour and a half."
	"You bastard," Petrarch responded, "I'll be damned if that was a
second over an hour!"
	Lazarus interrupted the playful conversation with his monotone,
businesslike voice.  "Did you get it?" he asked briefly.
	"Eh?  Sure," he replied, withdrawing a small piece of parchment
from his coat pocket.  "Couldn't spy on 'em, though, they were leaving
when I found 'em.  I just broke into a run, and collided with the blonde
one.  As I was apologizing, and trying to fix up his soiled finery, I
filched that paper."  Petrarch beamed a proud smile at the assassin.
	Lazarus inspected the document.  "Yes, this is what I wanted,
nice work."  Without another word, he stepped into the back door of the
cabin.
	Petrarch gave Lurm an inquiring look, but his friend simply
shrugged.
	Some time later, Lazarus emerged, wearing his long black coat,
carrying a leather satchel.  Silently, he approached the Spit Fire, and
climbed into the cockpit.  Raising a hand to close the open hatch, he
paused, and turned to regard Petrarch and Lurm.
	"There's seven hundred and fifty-thousand gold coins in the
cabin," he said quietly.  "Take your wages from that and put the rest in
the usual location."  The two nodded dumbly as Lazarus continued.  "I'm
going to Jidoor for a job, but I think it's a set-up.  If it is, I'll
deal with the swine accordingly, and I'll take my pay out of their
hides.  In the meantime, find out what you can about this new Empire."
	"Will do," Lurm answered.
	"And Lurm," Lazarus added, "Go find that borras and kill it.  I
don't want it to stumble upon this location and bring some of its
friends."  With that, he closed the hatch, and focused his attention on
the devices within the machine.
	Lurm and Petrarch stood a respectable distance from the Spit Fire
as its engines flared into operation.  The vehicle rose slowly, and then
screamed off to the south, flying low over the treetops.  Petrarch
returned to the cabin, while Lurm, hefting an enormous crossbow over one
shoulder, set off down the dark path, in compliance with his grim orders.

               	*        *        *        *        *

	No one in the vicinity was awake to see the sky craft fly over
the mountains surrounding Zozo.  Lazarus carefully kept his eyes upon the
the instruments and gauges within the vehicle, his eyes only glancing out
of the glass hatch once in a while.  If there was anything out there he
should be aware of, the various screens would inform him of it long
before his eyes would sight it.  As it was, nothing of interest occurred
during his trip, and the flight to Jidoor was a short one, anyway.
	It was one of Lazarus' greatest resources that he had a
relatively secret location to land the Spit Fire near the major cities.
It was often a hidden clearing in the woods, with the exception of Tzen,
where he hid the Spit Fire in a large crevasse in the nearby mountains.
Here, near Jidoor, he would land in a forested locale similar to his
hideout near Zozo.
	Locating the small clearing was simple, and he landed the craft
without difficulty.  Unlike Zozo, there was no cabin here, housed with
his paid employees to watch over the Spit Fire; he had to simply rely on
the reputation of the dangerous wildlife in the area to guard his vehicle,
though it was unlikely that many people could fly such a craft.
	Securing the vehicle into its landing position, and gathering
what he needed, Lazarus then extricated himself from the Spit Fire, and
activated the security device, making the hatch nearly impossible to open
by any save the bearer of the ignition keys.  With grim resignation, the
assassin withdrew his twin blades and examined their crimson edges on the
moonlight.  And then, he stalked off into the wilderness.