DATELINE:  WESTERN EURASIA, LONDON

The UN offices in London were considered a work of architectural 
genius, the perfect blend of history, tradition, and technology.  
All of the building's electronic security systems were completely 
unobtrusive, molded into the faux woodwork, marbled floors, and 
painted ceilings.  However, the suited UN security officers were 
another matter entirely.  

They paced the length and breadth of the building at all hours, 
always alert and always on their guard, and the two directly-
assigned to Western Eurasia's UN representative were the best 
of the best.  Like the palace guards of old, they stood at either 
side of Lord Patterson's office, speechless and motionless.  For 
all intents and purposes, they were dead to the world, automatons 
who answered only to the beck and call of the most powerful man 
in the territory, the UN representative in charge of all of 
Western Eurasia.

Inside the office, Lord Charles Patterson IV was examining a 
holographic display of the entire world.  All of Western Eurasia 
was graphically-displayed in red.  Bits of red also dotted parts 
of all the other territories and the oceans as well.  His 
influence was spreading, and he had eyes and ears all over the 
world.  Indeed, he was positioned to, perhaps, become the most 
powerful man in the entire UN.  

Unfortunately, even he had people that he had to answer to, a debt 
that had to be paid.  Indeed, failure would require that he pay 
the ultimate price.  Not his life.  Not even his family.  Nor even 
his power.  The price of failure would be his immortal soul.  
Turning to admire a portrait of his long-deceased father, he 
speaks aloud, cursing the price that always comes with power.

"Where in the world could he be hiding?  Decades have come and 
gone, but still there hasn't been even a rogue sighting.  Not 
one word.  Not one peep," he said, wondering how his father was 
currently faring in the lower levels of hell, a fate that also 
awaited him should he fail in his mission to find, capture, and 
destroy just one man.  Cursing, he slammed his fist onto the top 
of his desk with enough force to make the holographic display cut 
out and disappear from view.

"Where in the world is John Constantine?"