Ah. It was Father Belloq, East Asia regional coordinator for the Sabbatarians. That group knew Vox by his old family name, Verrecchia—a name his grandfather had changed at Ellis Island, but which Vox still used for certain operations. As far as Belloq was concerned, “Luigi Verrecchia” was a devoted and very rich Catholic who was serving God by covertly using a great deal of his wealth to fund the operations of the Inquisition. And that wasn’t all that far from the truth, except in terms of motives. Vox couldn’t care less about the church, or its God, but he found it useful to have a vicious little private army he could aim at his enemies. The Sabbatarians were everywhere, their ranks significantly expanded over the last fifteen years thanks to the millions Vox funneled into their numbered accounts. They were blind fanatics who were convinced they were making serious inroads into the fight against supernatural evil. In point of fact, they had contributed significantly to five of the most lucrative operations of the Seven Kings.

They had no real role in the chaos that Vox was building around the Red Order, the Tariqa, Iranian politics, and the mad plans of the King of Thorns; but that was the point. Vox loved adding random elements. It would drive Church and the DMS up a goddamn wall trying to figure out how the Sabbatarians factored in. Sure, there was the obvious vampire connection, but the Sabbatarians created the wrong connection. Chaos was a lovely, lovely thing.

Vox took a breath and adjusted his tone. “Yes, Father. Do you have something to report?”

“We have had a problem, sir.”

“Tell me.”

Belloq told him about the failed ambush of Joe Ledger.

“You lost the whole team?” growled Vox. His anger was only partly contrived. It would not have surprised Vox to hear that Ledger had taken out at least half the team; he knew Ledger was that good. But all of them?

“Every last man is in the arms of Jesus.”

“Please, Father Belloq, this is madness,” said Vox, mopping sweat from his face. His stomach felt like it was ready to explode, but there was nothing left it in. “What could possibly have happened to all those men?”

“There is only one possible explanation,” said the priest with undisguised contempt. “Upierczi.”

Vox faked a gasp and then waited a few seconds for Belloq to appreciate how disturbed he was by this news.

“Surely no single Red Knight could—”

“No, sir. We believe that the Upierczi are out in force. Sir … I’m afraid that the thing we were afraid of is about to happen.”

“You mean…?”

“Yes … it seems certain now that the Upierczi have obtained nuclear weapons.”

Vox didn’t have the energy for a cry of dismay, so he let a protracted silence convey the right amount of shock. When he thought enough time had passed, Vox said, “Are you positive?”