Chapter 23 - By His Ruins

Inside the ruins of a Bulgarian monastery Kevin Fairchild closed his eyes and shook his head. Slowly he reached for the gun resting plainly at his armpit. "Buddy, you're making one hell of a big mistake. The way I see it, you have two options. Either you give up now, or..." Kevin swung around and disarmed the intruder, rolled onto his back and reared his legs upward catching the attacker by the neck. A quick twist and Kevin was atop the man ready to strike. He trained both his own gun and the assailant's gun on the man. "... or you die. Your choice." Jeffrey Sogard let out a gasping breath. He held his hands to his neck and croaked out a reply. "I think I'll go with option one." He held up his hands in surrender. Kevin turned to Michaela and smiled. "At least he's intelligent enough to know when to give up." Suddenly Boswell appeared from the darkness of the opening. He was wielding a large 2x4 and swinging it like a battle ax. Phoenix crept around the shadows of the perimeter and thrust out a leg which the man tripped over. He performed a prat fall even Jerry Lewis would be proud of. Michaela gave him a wary grin then her eyes grew wide at a sight over his shoulder. Kevin's eyes snapped back to attention. The rage in his eyes was apparent even in the dim light of the monastery. Without hesitation, he moved one gun from the first intruder to the second. Now he had a gun on both men. One in each hand. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's not nice to walk in unannounced?" Kevin cocked the firearm to illustrate his point and demonstrate he wasn't kidding. He would indeed shoot them if either of them breathed funny. Boswell quickly released the weapon which by now had broken in two due to his fall. The wood clattered against the irregular rock formations around him. "Thanks Phoenix." Kevin waved one gun prompting Boswell to move and join his friend on the other side of the room. "No problem, anytime." Phoenix couldn't stop smiling. Kevin's intense gaze penetrated the darkness like a lazer. In the torch light they glowed red like a demon's. "Move it! Both of you. Over near the light where I can see you." Kevin motioned with the gun and Jeffrey and Boswell followed its lead. "Look at this mess you've gotten me into," Boswell snapped. "And I'm suppose to have a date tonight!" "The mess I've gotten you into? YOU were the one who had to take this tunnel," Jeffrey was weak due to his skirmish with Kevin. His voice hadn't bounced back as fast as he thought it would. "Shut up. Both of you," Kevin lamented. "I'm in no mood for this right now, nor do I have the time." He held the gun on them with the hammer cocked then looked to Phoenix. "Have you found Faith?" "No, I'm sorry, Kevin." Jeffrey's eyes perked up. Kevin? He quietly tried to rerun the man's comments in his head. "No. It couldn't be." Michaela stirred and tried to raise herself up on one elbow. Her head felt like an orchestra was playing full throttle in her brain. Her eyes were closed but she could hear the goings on in the room. "Couldn't be what?" she said, her words thick and slurred. Jeffrey crouched down closer to the woman. "That man," he said. "Who is he?" "Who, him?" She opened one eye and stared lopsidedly at Kevin. "Yeah." Jeffrey noticed the dirt smeared faces of the group and found something familiar about them all. The woman closest to him had long brown hair. Her face was black as if she'd recently taken a trip down a soot filled chimney. Even under all the gunk Jeffrey could tell she was beautiful. "You sort of resemble someone I know," Jeffrey said slowly as if doubting his own memory. Michaela observed him. The light around them was dim but there was enough illumination to make out his face. It seemed familiar. "I may know you, or I may not. Kevin says I've lost my memory. It might be true. I don't know. Everything's a little fuzzy right now." Jeffrey tried to move closer but Kevin returned his attention in their direction. His gun was still cocked and ready to fire. "Listen slick. Stay away from the lady." Kevin's voice was laced with anger and grim determination. Jeffrey turned to Boswell. "Look at that man and tell me there isn't something familiar about him." ******* Legacy Headquarters, London, England Philip Lancaster, co-director of the London Legacy House, tripped his fingers across the keyboard in a steady rhythm. People were missing from his section and he wasn't happy about it. He wasn't happy at all. Calmly he raked a hand through his slightly graying hair and searched the computer database for the whereabouts of each member of his team. His co-director, Gia Doyle and Level One operative, Octavia Kassoff, were the only agents currently out on assignment. The rest of his team had mysteriously vanished from the premises. All of the young recruits were mulling around the hallways but the senior officers had disappeared. Contacting the other houses on Smith Island and in New Orleans had been his first course of action. New Orleans confirmed that Declan O'Connor had been seen on surveillance slipping out of the little known back entrance. Camille had been particularly clear in her intel. She kept rigorous tabs on Declan just like Philip knew she would. The blonde woman was another one of "his" girls. This one more cooperative than most. Katrina the most cooperative of all but Octavia.... Octavia Kassoff was proving to be another obstacle. An obstacle he feared he'd have to eliminate personally. But his greatest fear at the moment was Declan himself. Declan could possibly pose a great threat to a mission currently underway. If he interfered, Philip wouldn't hesitate to cancel him. He'd been searching for a plausible explanation to eliminate him for over a year now. Certain circumstances looked promising. Maybe soon his window of opportunity would open and Declan could be erased like the bad memory he was. He was one of the few bad memories he had. The other being the Paris project. Philip had personally been disgusted when approached about the Paris project initially. He couldn't see doing such a thing to Katrina. It didn't seem necessary. But not long after, he warmed up to the idea. In an attempt to keep something of Kat alive in Paris, Philip made one request in the altering of Katrina's long term memory. He wanted all traces of Katrina's love for Declan O'Connor erased. Philip wanted to be the only man in Kat's life. This way he was assured to be just that. As an added assurance, Philip reserved the right to get rid of Declan. After all, either way the ball fell, Declan would be out of the picture -- hopefully forever. When and if Declan ever did die, Kat wouldn't care one way or the other. The AI implantation made sure of that. After an hour of searching for Declan with no progress, Philip decided to move his search on to the Smith Island House. For the next few hours he perused the files and discovered that Kevin Fairchild and Michaela Forsythe also had missed their check in times. This was not good. All the Legacy's top operatives were being lured away from their home bases. Was there a reason for this? Or did they all suddenly have dire need to get away for a few days? Philip hoped none of them stumbled upon their current on-going investigation concerning Ethan and Katrina. He didn't need the added disruption of Declan, Michaela or Kevin's involvement in this area. If they were to discover the truth, the entire Legacy project might crumble down around their feet. The Knights Foundation gave the Legacy its parameters to work within. They ran the show from somewhere on high and he, Gia and Franklin were all pawns in their virtual chess game. When the phone shrilled on his desk, the tone of the woman on the other end was not a happy one. "Where the hell have you been?" Gia snapped. Her venom spewed forth like a cobra about to strike. The tirade could have gone on longer than it did but she was feeling particularly forgiving today. So she made it short and to the point. "Out." Philip knew his one word answer would not sit well with his co-director. "Out? Let me guess. To Paris? To that bitch who owns the restaurant? You know how the Foundation feels about your involvement with that woman. Mr. Knight has warned you before." The line crackled from the bad connection but Gia's voice was as firm and demanding as ever. "Who are you? My conscience?" "Last time I checked I was your partner. And partners look out for each other. Speaking of that. Why the hell weren't you watching my back? We had a plan. You fouled it up by slipping away." "But everything's all right?" "Philip, do you think I'd be calling you if everything was all right?! No, everything is all right. Pull up everything you have on Octavia Kassoff. I want to know it all. From who diapered her ass to who she lost her virginity to. We have to find out where she might have holed herself up. Where does she go when she's trapped? Is there a pattern to her behavior? Tell me it all." "You sound like a woman on a mission." "I am. Octavia has intercepted the package!" ****** Philip called up Octavia's file. A single word flashed across the screen. DELETED. Not canceled, but deleted. In the spy business, there was a big difference between the two words - oceans of difference, Deleted meant that the file had been erased. Canceled meant that Octavia was either targeted for death or dead. Personally, he was hoping for dead. That would be one less task on his check list of things to do today. One has to have his priorities. So someone had gotten into the Legacy computer and deleted her file? He wondered who would even care... or why? ****** Inside the ruins of a Bulgarian monastery Michaela Forsythe hung her head in the damp, dusty, rock-filled hall of the monastery. She thought she should ask for forgiveness considering where she was, but who was she kidding? God couldn't forgive some of the sins she had committed lately. And some of the most recent were pretty immoral. She was so far from where she had hoped to be - in Ethan Fairchild's arms. Instead, she was faking amnesia, a head wound and watching Kevin Fairchild fight with Jeffrey Sogard. It amused her somewhat, but she knew she should be aghast with disgust by her atrocities. Jeffrey was just a kid and Kevin could kill him in a second if he really wanted to. Why wasn't she speaking up then? What was keeping her quiet? She knew what it was. If she did speak up her rouse would be discovered. Then that discovery would lead to more and more slip ups until someone found out she was the assassin the Legacy called 'the Nightingale.' What was wrong with her? How many times had she tried to go straight and failed? Too many times to count. And having good intentions didn't mean squat. Sometimes she wondered if she was intentionally sabotaging herself -- pushing herself further from Ethan than closer. It was the only explanation she could come up with. Why else would she have faked amnesia to find comfort in his brother Kevin's arms? She must either truly hate herself or hate Ethan to torture them both this way. When she first arrived in Bulgaria she flaunted her nonexistent relationship with Kevin to Ethan. Maybe she did it to hurt Ethan or to remind herself that she wasn't worthy of such a man. Maybe it was to prove to him that she didn't need him. Or was it to prove to herself that she didn't need him? Either way, she came out the loser. Funny thing was - she did need Ethan Fairchild. She needed him like she needed to breathe. It was becoming a necessity in her life. And right now she was in severe, desperate Ethan withdrawal. As she looked around the darkness, Boswell stared at her and she knew he recognized her even under the dirt and grime. He'd been the only one to ever truly keep quiet about her nature, about her true identity. She didn't know why and she didn't want to find out either. She was only glad he knew when to keep his mouth shut. His wink was the only reassuring thing in the monastery at the moment. If the Bulgarian mission had taught her anything it taught her that she didn't know which side she truly belonged on. Two months ago she'd participated in an underground project called Chameleon. Some alluded to it as the Paris Project but she preferred calling it what it was - a way for an operative to masquerade as something they were not... another person. So the word Chameleon fit better than the word Paris, at least to her. The whole project was bizarre. It called for taking an operative and implanting them with a personality computer chip. Essentially, it was a technological way to remotely give a human being multiple personality disorder. The first month of the project had been a joy ride. She existed mostly on adrenaline during that time but soon the fun paled and the motivation to continue disappeared. She'd really only gone along with the plan because the idea of this Chameleon project revolted Julian Black. It was fun watching the man of ice squirm at her involvement. After he accepted the idea, she continued on with it to prove a point to Julian - she was the only woman in this world he could never control. Julian had his pride, of course, and had discontinued using her services, for a time. But in his line of work there always seemed to be a need for dependable, accurate, loyal assassins. And in their business, she was the best. So her alter ego, 'the Nightingale' was never out of work for long. Then she met Ethan in Amsterdam. He was on a mission for the Legacy and she was there at Julian's request to assassinate the leader of the Amsterdam Peace Talks. In a way it was irony at its best. Two people on opposite sides of the law coming together in the land of bridges, canals and tulips and falling hopelessly in love with each other. In the end, Ethan had prevented her from fulfilling her mission but the resulting relationship they sparked in Holland more than made up for the failure. Of course, not long later, Julian discovered the affair as he always did everything else. A waiter on his payroll ratted her out. He'd seen her and Ethan together numerous times, too many for Julian to brush off as coincidence. The waiter had received quite a substantial reward for his troubles plus a plane ticket out of the country. If Julian was anything, he was generous. For the longest while Michaela thought Julian had tipped off Ethan to her secret identity. She'd been wrong. Ethan had figured it out on his own, perceptive little bastard. She new Ethan would never accept her life as the highly trained assassin Nightingale. Julian was indeed bitter about his and Michaela's breakup, and why shouldn't he be? He lost yet another woman to Ethan Fairchild. The first he lost to Ethan's bullet, the next he lost to Ethan's heart. In all the world Julian Black had only loved two women. The first, Jannette, had become his wife. She died during one of his and Ethan's many gun battles. Julian's best friend and confident, Isidor Kassoff, didn't know if his friend would ever truly love again, but he was wrong. Julian once again put his heart on the line for Michaela and she'd pounced on it by becoming involved with Ethan Fairchild. Julian Black had many enemies throughout the course of his life, but no enemy was more hated or more despised than Ethan Fairchild. One day Julian would be waiting in the wings to pay her back for the pain she caused him. In the darkness of the monastery she wondered if that day had finally arrived. ******* Legacy Headquarter, London, England Philip Lancaster glanced nervously around the London Legacy House control room. It was empty save for a few stragglers bucking to impress the brass, namely him. Scanning the computer monitor one more time, he tried to remain calm. Maybe he'd read the file incorrectly. He exited out of the program and re-booted it. DELETED. Damn. He muttered the curse to himself not wanting to worry Gia. Apparently, she already had enough to deal with in Bulgaria. The Legacy database had either been compromised or someone from inside had erased Octavia Kassoff's file. "Philip? Are you still there?" Gia waited a second then said, "Are you all right? Answer me, dammit!" "Yes, I'm still here. Just checking on something in the computer." Philip exited out of the program once again. Maybe he could get that kid, Jeffrey to do some computer noodling for him once the kid returned from wherever he'd gone. Philip turned his attention back to his co-director. "You were saying something about Octavia and Ethan? She has him? Is that right?" "Isn't that what I said?" It sounded desperate even to Gia. She only hoped Philip hadn't noticed her despondency. His small chuckle let her know he had taken note of her subtle meaning. She cursed under her breath. It was exactly what she needed, Philip taunting her to top off her already head numbing day. "Still have a thing for him, huh?" A laugh burst forth from her mouth. It was one she had practiced. One she was comfortable with. One that spoke volumes to Philip. "That's ridiculous! Ethan and I were never involved!" "No?" "NO! Of course not. I'm his boss. I can't get involved with operatives under me." This time it was Philip's turn to laugh. He could just see her face turning beet red once she realized the double meaning of what she'd just said. "You know what I mean, Philip!" she spat. "Ethan and I were never involved." "Not for lack of trying, I assume? What about before you entered the Legacy? When I found you in New Orleans? Your first mission was in Amsterdam, wasn't it? If I remember correctly, that's where Ethan met Michaela as well." "I don't like what you're insinuating." "And I don't like to insinuate but don't try and lie to me. I know exactly why Ethan starting dating Michaela Forsythe and it wasn't because she turned his head all those years ago. Sure she's quite the looker but you and I both know what really happened." "I don't know. I'm having an attack of temporary amnesia." Gia didn't want to discuss this matter with Philip, especially something that concerned a part of her life that didn't involve the Legacy. She could hear Philip bang his hand against the desktop. "Don't give *me* that amnesia bull shit! You and Ethan were paired up in Amsterdam for six months, and not without surveillance, I might add. I know about the subtle little hand holding and cheek kissing. What I want to know is what happened behind closed doors!" Gia didn't have time for this. The more she argued with Philip the farther Octavia could get with Ethan. "What has or hasn't happened in my personal life is just that... personal! Stay out of it Philip, or I swear..." She let her words trail off and snapped the cell phone shut. If he knew what was good for him he'd stay out of her life. Otherwise she'd have to reveal exactly what underhanded things he'd been up to in his own spare time. Gia stood next to the dead body of Derek Lloyd, a Legacy operative. She kicked the shell of the man she had trained in combat and screamed. The sound echoed in the small chamber bouncing off the electronic equipment. The release of her frustrations felt good and she continued to kick the dead man. "You idiot!" she yelled at herself. She should have seen through that little blonde headed bitch. She knew why she was off her game. She'd let Ethan get to her. He'd done it the same way in Amsterdam. Just when she wasn't looking or expecting it, Ethan Fairchild had jumped into her heart. She thought she was over him. But now she knew she had only been lying to herself. The saying was really true... time did make the heart grow fonder, even a heart as cold as hers. Someone had told her once that the only way to truly own a man was to love him. She had stupidly believed them. The idiot that she was. While she was berating herself she'd let her guard down. That had been her first mistake. Thinking Derek Lloyd was dead was the second. He came up behind her welding a gun and pressed it into the small of her back. The other hand clamped over her mouth. "Nifty little devices, bullet proof vests." "What do you want?" she said with some effort through the mass of flesh over her mouth. "Where's Ethan?" "You want to see lover boy? I'd be happy to oblige." Derek angled his hand up. It was the hand that held the gun. It came crashing down on Gia's skill with a sickening thud. ******* Inside the ruins of a Bulgarian monastery Faith Fairchild screamed and the sound echoed and vibrated in her head. She continued until her voice grew weary, but it was no use. Somewhere off in the distance Faith could hear grunts and groans. Considering she was easily only a few feet from the others, the brawl should have been louder, but it wasn't. And that's what scared Faith the most. Then she realized something. No one was coming. She was trapped. Trapped where no one could find her. In the overwhelming darkness of the hole she tried not to cry. Then without warning the entire room shook with an unearthly vibration. It sounded like a jackhammer but it felt like an avalanche. Before she could react the floor beneath her crumbled away and she felt herself falling into a black oblivion. She screamed again but even her shouts were absorbed by the dark void. It seemed like a long time before she hit bottom.