Angels in the Outfield An In Nomine PBeM

It's the little things that matter...

The boy disappeared before they could grab him, leaving behind only a puff of greasy black smoke and the lingering aftertones of a B-flat chord played slightly out of tune.

"Damn him!" Luke swore.

"Too late," Bob said, matter-of-factly.

As one, the they turned to the small knot of people which gathered to discover why two grown men were chasing a small boy through Pike Place Market. Luke approached a woman standing near the front, who looked particularly disturbed by the whole incident. "Two grown men," she started, "chasing after one small boy! What kind..."

Bob touched her forearm, gently leading her around the pile of broken glass from the shop's window. "I can see you're upset," he said, "but we're Market security and that boy is known for vandalizm..."

Luke, having pointed out the key person in the crowd, stepped away to let his partner do the job of convincing her, and through her, the rest of the crowd, that what they had seen was a routine attempt to stop a break-in. He stepped around the corner, pulled out a cell phone, and quickly dialed a number from memory.

"University of Washington Library."

"Lisbet Evans, please."

"One minute." Luke endured the torment of Hell's most vile creations. For the umpteenth time, he swore personal vengance against Nybbus, Demon Prince of the Media, for unleashing "Muzak" on the Earth. After a one-minute eternity of torture, he finally heard her familiar voice.

"This is Lisbet."

"Lisbet. Luke. He got away. Again."

Luke held the phone away from his ear as the Keeper of Yves' tether in Seattle used some rather un-angelic language. "What do you mean, 'How could I let it happen?' Look, we're up to our eyeballs in demonic activity. And it isn't just this one Calabite, either. There's a whole army of them swarming the streets out here, wreaking all kinds of trouble. I'm not sure where they've got it, or how they manage to keep it hidden, but somewhere in this city there's a demonic tether. We can't keep up with all the break-ins going awry, near car crashes, missing artifacts...All of these 'minor incidences' are going to destroy Seattle from the inside.

"You're going to have to tell the Big Guy we need more help..."

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In Nomine is published by Steve Jackson Games, c. 1997

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