Wild Ambition

Westminster Church.

Mephistopheles sat on his chair, holding the tea cup of his afternoon tea, eyes

closed as if lost in thought.

In the dark light of the lamp, Bishop Lehman sat on the other side of the desk,

silent. Norman became restless in the heavy atmosphere.

After a long while, Mephistopheles heaved a sigh. He put down the cup,

obviously worried about something. "What you ask me to do is really difficult."

Lehman seemed to be expecting this. He nodded his head. "We understand

the position of the Anglo Division. We only need you to provide any help you

can."

"This is not a matter of position." Mephistopheles sighed again, his eyes full of

helplessness. "To be honest, you are late. If you had come a few days earlier,

I could introduce to you someone who might be of help. But now, I cannot

help you at all. You know, the hand of god came back to Anglo. He must have

heard something."