Outside of town, in a field well away from main roads and people.
That was where Lina Moretti had summoned John Davis to meet for a demonstration of his capabilities. The moon was high, lighting the field. It was simply a clearing, about fifty yards across, surrounded by trees.
One on side of the open space, the Regent of Florin stood. A disposable t-shirt covered the bulletproof vest that Davis had purchased her. Cheap jeans over running shoes. In her hand, a nasty Bowie knife was casually gripped.
It was time to see what John Davis was capable of.