It took me awhile to get from Peckham to the City of London because it was still too early. I did not mind the walk though, as I could not get tired anyway. While in the container hideout, I had retracted my armor beneath my clothes, so now I looked like a very early tourist or a worker on a business trip. I found a small hotel which in a traditional British fashion called itself an inn, and checked in for a few days. Luckily, I still had several thousand pounds I got from the gang, otherwise staying in a hotel just a few streets away from The Tower would have been impossible.

I stayed in my room until seven a.m., busily absorbing information from the Internet. I managed to finish the basic dictionaries of Old Irish and Old Norse, but I was still confused because of the different explanations and syntax rules. I also spent some time reading about redcaps and the other often mentioned cryptids, but could only sigh at the extreme amount of contradicting information and random descriptions. Especially since these had been messed up even further by the resurgence of fantasy in the last decade.

At least pretty much all sources labelled redcaps as rather nasty species, who allegedly had a habit of dyeing their hats (or according to other sources, their caps or hoods) with the blood of their victims, thus getting their name. Hmm… I thought a bit, but could not really remember smelling or seeing anything odd with the ski hats the redcaps were wearing during the attack. Another piece of misleading information? New trend? Integration into human society? Undercover disguise? I even searched the occult and supernatural-oriented forums and websites in Tor, using “red cap” and “no blood” keywords, but did not find anything of interest.

---

Having found no reliable information from the Web, I left the hotel and walked towards Aldgate Street. The weather was still windy, humid and generally nasty, and it would have been a torturous walk if not my immunity to cold.

There, I turned to Mitre Street and after a few smaller lanes finally reached the old, solid-looking building. Surprisingly, it turned out to be almost next to one of the most eye-catching landmarks of modern London - The Gherkin. For most visitors of the most popular city in the world, “the huge stretched out glass egg which is sticking out from the cityscape like a sore thumb”.

For a while, I observed the old, box-shaped brick-and-stone building that had impressive white-rimmed leaded-light windows. I remembered visiting churches, synagogues, mosques and all sorts of different temples when travelling in the East because of my father’s work. But now I had to take into account the fact that I was no longer a simple child following his parents on a cultural tour.

To be on the safe side, I mumbled: “Yahweh, I am just checking out, okay?”, and stepped through the door.

I was not hit by lightning or even cussed at by some burning piece of greenery, so I relaxed my somewhat tense shoulders and picked up a kippah to follow the customs. Inside, I saw the rows of dark benches, the twelve pillars supporting the gallery and the seven antique brass candelabra hanging from the ceiling between me and the huge Renaissance-style thing that resembled a Christian church's altarpiece.

Some people were sitting on the benches, softly discussing something. A spectacled man in a strict, black suit was standing at the far end, flipping through some papers. I moved over to one of the unoccupied seats, keeping my travel case beside me. I did not leave it in the hotel, just in case something happened.

Locals occasionally sized me up, most likely due to my pale face and long hair. I had hidden most of my hair with the jacket, but it still drew attention. Perhaps I should have found a scarf as well, I mulled.

Also, with my face devoid of wrinkles or any blemishes, I looked a lot younger as well. I had estimated my looks to be around late teens or very early twenties, so I was relieved to hear that most of the observers placed me into “rebellious youth, coming to his senses” category.

I closed my eyes and used my perception to observe my surroundings. Nothing magical could be felt, except for a few scroll-shaped objects inside that altarpiece-shaped structure. Scrolls? Torah, perhaps?

Soon, most of the morning visitors left. After I had spent some time probing around the building with my senses, the man in suit put away his papers and slowly approached me. He sat next to me and said: “Shalom.”

The knowledge gained from my degree kicked in, so I replied: “Peace be upon you.”, and opened my eyes. I found it odd that he was not showing any reaction similar to Captain Aitan Es, but it made things easier too.

The man smiled, looking peaceful and acting like a proper wise elder ready to help a confused youngster. He offered his hand: “I’m Benjamin, Senior Rabbi here.”

I shook the offered hand: “Victor. I am looking for Captain Es”. I hoped, that the mention of his military rank would be a sufficient hint that I did not come for matters of religion.

Benjamin leaked out a surprised “Oh!”, before he reorganized his thoughts: ”Captain Es? Oh, you mean Aitan, of course.”

I slowly nodded: “Yes. I am not sure if you know the details about his… other job. Anyway, we met a while ago, and I wanted to talk to him concerning some matters he might be interested in.”

“Of course, of course, that religious support to the troops, mental health care and all that.” - Benjamin scratched his chin while nodding: “He should come today in a few hours, he usually does so when they have free time around noon. Or if it is urgent, I can try calling him?”

“No need. I will wait here.” - I waved my hand in dismissal: “If you do not mind, that is.”

“No, no, please feel free to do so.” - he replied, before suggesting: “Would you like some tea, perhaps?”

---

We sat together on a bench, enjoying the Earl Grey tea Benjamin had brought over from some adjoining room. I used the time to enquire: “By the way, could you please satisfy my curiosity, but how do you call that… object, the one that looks like an altarpiece?”

“That’s Aron Kodesh, or in English, the Torah ark.” - Benjamin explained as he sipped his tea: “It is a place to hold Sifrei Torah scrolls. It is wonderful, over three hundred years old carved oak masterpiece, with interior lined with finest Spanish gilded leather. Very classical for the period of 17th century England.”

I breathed in the scent of bergamot raising from my cup and commented: “Mmm, impressive.”. For a while, I asked random questions about the architecture and minor historical details, occasionally praising their unity and cooperation.

Having noticed that Benjamin was a little too kind and caring person, with just a few compliments to his work and efforts, I was able to make him talk pretty much indefinitely. He kept inviting me to visit their Shabbat ceremonies, upcoming Purim celebrations and so on, which I dodged by giving him noncommittal replies. That did not stop him, though, as he continued to describe the life of their local community. He also mentioned Aitan Es a lot, so I managed to gather some extra information about him.

“Is it really acceptable for him to tell all that to random strangers?” - I mused while drinking my third cup of tea.

---

“Shalom aleichem, Benjamin! I trust, you are in good health today!” - a familiar voice bellowed with enough decibels to rock the heavy candelabra above us.

Benjamin stood up, greeting the approaching huge, bald, bushy-bearded man: “Aleikhem shalom, Aitan!”

As Rabbi Es approached, he finally saw me sitting on the bench. He stumbled for a moment, before beginning: “H-hello, Victor? I didn’t expect to meet you here, …”

I interrupted him before he began talking about ruach or something: “Please, Captain. Feel free to do what you have come for first. I need to have a talk with you later.”

“No-no, nothing urgent. Where would you like to talk? Office?” - Rabbi Es stood in military “at attention” posture. At least he was not saluting.

“Sure.” - I stood up and followed him with my travel case.

Benjamin tried to say or ask something, but Rabbi Es shook his head and mouthed “Work”. I suppressed an urge to laugh - Benjamin was clearly kept out of the loop.

---

In the office, Aitan tried to offer me tea while using extremely rigid and ceremonial speaking style, with so many “if you would be”, “grace”, “request” and “humbly” that the meaning of the sentences got lost in between. I rolled my eyes and told him to stop doing that as it sounded rather ridiculous, and told him to sit down. He was not so nervous when we had met the first time, odd.

“I do not find joy or need in unnecessary formalities, Captain.” - I told him while I held my fifth cup of tea of the day and continued: “First, how is the poor guy doing?”

“He, hm, is in hospital. Nothing life-threatening, and medics say that he should recover in few weeks.” - Rabbi Es nervously twirled a strand of his long beard: “The man who acted without permission is already under disciplinary action, rest assured.”

I nodded to show my agreement with how it was handled and stated why I had come: “Captain Aitan Es. I am somewhat interested in the work you are doing. Mostly, what is the aim of your task force?”

Aitan Es immediately replied: “Security of the county and safety of citizens! Protect them from paranormal threats according to regulations.”

While I did not exactly full-heartedly believe into that textbook answer, it was what I wanted to hear. Thanks to my father who had to deal with international politics for dozens of years, I was quite familiar with the principles of negotiations. And I knew well that the best way to achieve one’s goal is to make the other party yearn for it on its own.

I slowly nodded again and entwined my fingers in front of me: “I believe, you had said that the unexplainable disappearances have been on the rise?”

“Yes, this is so.” - Captain wrinkled his brow.

“Then, I think, you may be interested in an upcoming market organized by the shadier part of the British supernatural community?” - I noticed how AItan’s hand muscles tensed for a second and reeled in the bait: “The one, where people may be traded too.”.

I did not say “humans” as I was not sure. I was gambling now, but apparently the lure was strong enough.