Before long they've reached the right street, and Michael made a call as they headed into the apartment lobby. It wasn't the fanciest place in Town but it did have one lone security ranger lingering around the entrance, and there was a young man behind the reception desk who handed over a key.

"It's not my place to ask what's really going on," Michael said as they entered the elevator and was afforded some privacy. Talking helped distract him from the anxieties that came with throwing a claustrophobic into an enclosed steel box.

"But I won't mention this place to the Spades, if you decide you're staying for a while. And if you need additional security, I can arrange for that." David might no longer be king, and apparently his state of compos mentis was questionable, but a madman could still have friends in a treacherous environment. Just as a madwoman a long time ago still had a friend.

"Though if they send a Spade hitman, you're probably fucked anyway," he jested.