early afternoon
attire
Executive privilege; he was driving. One of the vehicles, the second unmarked car which trailed them piloted by a uniformed officer. It helped, having the physical activity. Fingers digging into the faux leather cover on the wheel, foot forcibly steady on the accelerator. It kept his knees from shaking.
There was the hope there'd be no violence, that this could be a routine interview to be followed up upon later. Nothing he'd heard of the man they were seeking had bestowed much confidence in that outcome. A seasoned, venerable shifter, not necessarily given to violence but certainly willing to employ it. Old guard, as it were, perhaps seeing no alternative than murder to protect his secret.
The pistol holstered under Tiffer's left arm leaned heavy into his ribs.
Nerves had never made him talkative, and it was in silence he pulled to a stop in the lodge's parking lot. In silence he left the vehicle, shading his view with one hand as he looked to the highest level of the impressive, rustic building.
"Wait here," he instructed their tertiary backup.
"Keep the channel open." Someone else at hand if things went south immediately, but mostly there to call in a full squad if need be.
In silence he nodded to Dakila and strode toward the front entrance.