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datatime: 2022-09-25 16:56:12 Author:BItsJPpf

Wormwood nodded gravely. 'Keep at it. Sonneillon. What of my would-be assassin?'

'Those boys are making merry,' said the rankest hag that ever troubled daylight.

'That's because you are an idle fuckwit,' coughed Carnivean. 'May pisspots rain upon your head.'

'Speak for yourself,' hissed Balberith. 'What do you know?'

Wormwood nodded gravely. 'Keep at it. Sonneillon. What of my would-be assassin?'

'Charities,' Olivier cackled. Wormwood blanked his screen.

'What's all the rush, brother? Loosen up.' Astaroth began to whistle. A chamber pot materialized and emptied its contents over his whistling head.

'Let Sonneillon seek him out with your modern wonders.'

'I'd wear him out, dearie.' Demdike fluttered her mouldy skirts, a nest of rats scurried from beneath them.

'They will do what I command. They are locked up neat and nice.'

Wormwood's eyes narrowed. 'Who is he?'

'Speak for yourself,' hissed Balberith. 'What do you know?'

'Nice one,' chuckled Gressil. 'A nice loose movement, you know what I mean?'

'You now have control over the five major banks. The industrial corporations, business holdings, the stock market...'

Wormwood's eyes narrowed. 'Who is he?'

Wormwood nodded gravely. 'Keep at it. Sonneillon. What of my would-be assassin?'

Mother Demdike stuck out her long black tongue, rocked upon her knees and bellowed with laughter. 'Know who tends and keeps you, bonny boy. Who cooked you in her womb. Watch your manners or I'll pop you in my pot.'

'Good. Carry on. All of you, penetrate each and every corner of the network. You know what is required of you. I want every computer system under my direct control. Once you have achieved this then I shall release you. Give you new bodies to inhabit. Powerful new bodies.' The ten on-screen heads of Wormwood made with the Satanic smiles and then were gone.

Mother Demdike, who had escaped previous mention, tore a garish relic of the Reagan years from its frame and flung it into the fire. Nancy with the laughing eyes melted into the flames.

'Don't know. I am monitoring all CIA, FBI and police computer networks. All forensic reports, scene-of-crime material evidence, and there's plenty of that. Fingerprints are not on file. Clothing fibres are a possible, very up-market stuff. Exclusive. I am following that up.'

'Gentlemen, gentlemen.' Wormwood raised calming hands. 'I shall address you singly. Are you comfortable in your temporary accommodation?' A babble of voices rose from the terminals. That of Leviathan rose above the rest. 'I shall act as spokesman for my brothers. We are well served for the present.'

'They will do what I command. They are locked up neat and nice.'

'Charities,' Olivier cackled. Wormwood blanked his screen.

'Good. But make haste. I want him found and I want him brought before me. Do you understand?' That was ranting, glaring and foot-stamping. Jonathan Crawford could learn a lot from this man.

'Speak for yourself,' hissed Balberith. 'What do you know?'

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