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Episode
21
In
Athens, Greece, the American Embassy continually promoted
a false sense of security to the public at large. Like a
bright spot in a tainted world, it offered solace, and to
some sanctuary. But unknown to most, the image the world
knew so well was fabricated by PR and Marketing professionals
who discerned exactly how to put the right spin on an ill
situation.
Graham
Gray had learned well from his country's example.
Nigel
Bennett took note of his employer. He was sitting in a
relaxed posture deciphering characters in an old manuscript.
The man rubbed his mass of black hair in contemplation
as he thumbed through yet another text on another timeworn
relic he was in search of. An exasperated sigh escaped
Nigel's lips as he turned to sip the now cold tea he'd
made for himself.
Tea
time was a very English tradition. One he relished. Seeping
a spot of Earl Gray helped to drain the tension from his
worried mind. Maybe it was because it took time to make
tea the old fashioned way - with loose leaves. The very
act of boiling the water helped to take his mind off his
troubles.
It
had been days since Phoenix and Scarlett disappeared.
Exactly two days, ten hours to be precise, and his mind
was consumed with doubts they'd ever be found alive. The
television media constantly bombarded him with images
of dead children discovered beaten and abused – and
some even dead. He hoped that was not the fate of the
Gray children.
Over
time Nigel had come to adore the twins. In the beginning
they were a tad tiresome but some where between his first
day on the job and today, Scarlett and Phoenix had earned
a special place in his heart. This reason alone was why
he constantly nagged his employer about paying more attention
to them. It was no wonder they'd wandered off.
Another
minute ticked by and Nigel found he could bear it no longer.
"Aren't
you in the least bit worried?" he asked in quiet
desperation.
"Of
course not, Nige, old buddy. My meeting with the state
boys was rather remarkable if you ask me." Graham
Gray glanced up for merely a second before his eyes were
once again trained on the ancient weathered text.
"I'm
sure it was, sir, but I was referring to the twins."
"What
about them?" he asked casually, in a tone that spoke
volumes.
He
obviously hadn't heard the news. "They're missing."
"Well
then, go out and find them. I'm sure they're in one of
their usual haunts. Try the arcade down the street. They
love that place." Graham carefully lifted a page
filled with illuminated ancient words and turned it over
so he could peruse the back.
Nigel
winced. "They loved <that place,> as you say,
when they were ten. I'm sure they've quite outgrown it
by now."
Graham
didn't respond. He only hummed and nodded his head like
he was paying attention. Nigel knew he wasn't.
How
could a grown man with two wonderful children not care
when they've been missing for two days? He knew the answer
to that. Graham Gray only cared about one person –
himself. And right now, the highest priority on his list
and in his life was finding a manuscript that had been
lost for centuries. His mind wasn't on his job or his
children. It was on the prize he hoped to find. One that
had forever eluded him.
Instead
of lashing out in anger, the Englishman sat at his desk
on the other side of the room and sipped his tea. If his
employer wasn't going to do something about the twin's
disappearance – Nigel decided he would.
***
As
he pulled each stone away from the make shift coffin around
Michela Forsythe's body, Kevin Fairchild couldn't help
but wonder how long they'd been inside the monastery.
It seemed like days and he was more than ready to see
the light of day again. Heavily sighing, Kevin wrenched
Michela free from the last stony obstacle covering her
body. Slowly, he checked her for injuries. She seemed
to be free of wounds but there was major bruising around
the temples and cheeks. She'd have a good shiner for sure.
It wouldn't be particularly eye catching but at least
she'd be alive. There was only one thing worrying him...
she was still unconscious.
"Michela?
Come on, Mike. Wake up, honey." Kevin's tones were
sweet, soothing, like a lover would whisper to someone
he adored. "You can do it."
From somewhere far off Michela could hear a voice. It
was male and it sounded nice. Like someone she might fancy
meeting. The more the man whispered, the more Michela
found herself falling into a void of nothingness. The
void where pain and sorrow ceased and where love was just
another silly emotion people had. A place where her father's
harsh words and ways would no longer touch her.
She
lost herself in the blackness. It felt so freeing having
the weight of the world off her shoulders.
Michela
opened her eyes and saw before her a man who still retained
boyish childhood aspects in his adult face. He was probably
closer to her own age than she could pin point accurately.
The one thing she did know was that the man staring intently
at her had the warmest hazel eyes. Eyes that could see
into a person's very soul. Eyes she could gaze into for
the rest of her life. She blinked quickly hoping the apparition
before her wouldn't disappear. He didn't. He was still
there and he was the most handsome creature she had ever
laid eyes on.
She
tried to sit up but the man held her down with one hand.
He was stronger than he looked. Another point in the damn
cute column. The more time she spent with him she was
sure the pro column would be overflowing with check marks
and the con devoid of them.
"Don't
get up," the man said with concern. "I haven't
finished checking you out yet."
He
ran his hands up and down her arms and across her stomach
and face checking for injuries.
"If
you keep rubbing me like that you're gonna find more than
you bargained for." She gazed at him like a woman
would a lover. She hoped he noticed.
Kevin's
eyes grew wide. Not too many things in this world could
shock him. That just had. What had gotten into her, he
wondered. If he didn't know better, he'd say that very
sultry speech was a subtle pick up line. But he knew better.
She was in love with his brother. How could he forget.
She reminded him of it every day and every night for four
months. He sighed. If only she could forget Ethan entirely
and give him a chance.
"So,
how am I, Doc?" said Michela seductively after Kevin
finished examining her.
"You
seem fine. Seem being the key word in that sentence."
He paused looking at her intently. "Think you can
get up?"
He
held her waist and she grabbed him around the neck. For
a second it looked like she might make it, but the pain
was too unbearable.
"Ah,
no. I think I better stay down here for now."
Kevin
placed her back on the hard wooden floor.
"Whatever
the princess wants," he said jokingly.
"Princess?"
Her eyes glanced questioningly at him.
"What's
wrong? That's what I always call you. Are you sure you're
feeling all right?"
"Fine.
Marvelous, actually. Except for this nagging pain in my
back. At least I'm alive." She massaged her middle
back and leaned back on her hands. "So, you call
me princess, huh?"
"Yeah,
I thought we already knew that?"
She
shrugged her shoulders. "Are we lovers?"
Now
that question threw him. His head whipped in her direction
like a spring. "What? No."
"Why
not?" Michela didn't seem to think it was an inappropriate
question.
This
was getting weirder by the minute. How many times had
he asked himself a similar question. Now she was asking
it to him? Maybe there really was a God.
"Michela,
are you sure you're all right?" Kevin asked.
"I
think so."
"Maybe
you have a concussion from the explosion. How many fingers
am I holding up?" He waved two fingers in front of
her eyes. She batted them away in annoyance.
"Two."
"Good."
Kevin stared deeply into her eyes looking for some inconsistency.
"What's my name?"
Michela
sat dumbfounded for a second. "I should know this."
She thought hard and pressed her fingers into her temples.
It wasn't coming. She gazed up at him with complete shock
in her eyes.
"I
don't know."
***
The
cemetery was quiet. The sun had not yet set but ghostly
memories swirled around him. It had been so long since
he last visited her grave. So long since he had last kissed
his wife. The thought of her brought an ache into his
heart. The remembrance of who killed her brought a different
sort of ache. An ache for vengeance.
He
sighed as a light rain descended upon him. So little time
with which to spend with his loved ones. The rat race
was so rushed these days. His driver and body guard, Cameron
Cash, leaned against the long dark limousine like a silhouetted
statue in the quickly darkening partly wooded area. He
could see Cam tap his watch. Time was curiously his enemy
today.
It
was so quite here. She would have liked that. Janette
liked the silence of her surroundings. Gingerly, he touched
the stark red rose running his fingers over the thorns
up to the petals.
"For
you, my love. Let us never forget."
The
wind blew past him like a soft kiss and he reveled in
the slight caress. Her spirit was here. It was at peace,
but somehow he knew he never would be. Lightly, he trailed
the rose down the grave stone and placed it as a token
on the grass covering the grave site.
"I
will return soon. Hopefully, with good news."
The
man with dark hair and even darker eyes folded himself
into the black limousine. He was a man out for vengeance.
He was a man with an agenda. He was a man who had lost
the only thing he had truly ever loved. And everyone involved
with her death would pay a great price.... with their
own death.
"Come
on, Julian," said Cameron in a slightly Canadian
tone that told of French influence. "We have a schedule
to keep." Cameron's blond curly locks ruffled in
the breeze.
"I
know. Just one more minute."
Cameron
closed the limo door and eased into the driver's seat.
He hated this day. He was glad it came only once a year.
He was even more thankful that Julian Black would be his
old self in the morning. Yes, he would again be his old
self, but he would never forget. Sometimes Cameron wished
he would. If not for his sanity, for his heart.
***
"Okay,
I don't remember your name. Big deal. It will come back
to me. But I do know one thing, you're my boyfriend, right?"
"What?
Michela, no. You're my brother, Ethan's girl. At least...
you use to be." Kevin could feel his heart lurch
as he told Mike the truth about who she really loved.
God, he was such a sap.
"Use
to be?"
"Yeah,
you had a sort of... falling out."
"Falling
out of love?" Michela asked.
"No,
not really. He does still love you, as stubborn as he
is but something happened that is keeping you apart. Something
you can never tell him about."
"About
you and me?"
"NO!
There is nothing going on with you and I. We're just friends.
Jeez, do I have to spell it out for you?"
"But
you do like me in <that> way, I can tell. Don't
you?"
There
was a silent pause before Kevin spoke again turning away
from the woman in front of him.
"You
could never tell before." Kevin averted his eyes
from Michela's.
"Then
I was a fool." Michela stared up at him like she
was looking at him for the first time and finally seeing
him for what he had always been. "How come I never
saw you before?" Michela asked him wearily.
"Don't
worry about that now. We just need to get you out of here."
He grabbed her around the waist to lift her and she twirled
her fingers in his hair. It was a distraction he really
didn't need at the moment. Kevin tried to dissuade her
but she wouldn't be drawn from the subject of the two
of them.
"So,
I liked someone named Ethan? What about you?" Michela
placed her hand on Kevin's face and he held his breath
as she slid it down to his neck. "Why didn't I like
you? I think I would have liked you much better than this
Ethan person."
He
cleared his throat and forced his body to stop reacting
to her touch.
"You
don't know what you're saying." Kevin pulled her
hand free from his neck.
"Of
course I do." With that one simple statement she
raised herself from the uneven surface on which she was
sitting and kissed him. It wasn't a friendly little peck
either. It shocked him all the way to his toes. It was
that sort of kiss. One he knew would haunt him for the
rest of his life. The seconds seemed like hours. Lips
touching, tongues meeting, hearts giving in. A minute
later she was limp in his arms. She was out cold again.
A minute after that Kevin knew he was seriously falling
in love with her.
***
He'd
lost her. Faith's voice was no longer audible. He didn't
want to move from his current location or risk losing
his sister Scarlett's stony tomb as well. First he'd free
Scarlett then find Faith. It was as simple as that, he
hoped.
Phoenix
scanned the dimly lit monastery. It was crumbling around
him. Every few minutes a new rain shower of debris hit
him on the head or fell around him. He figured that within
an hour the entire mountain would cave in on them all.
It wasn't a thought he wanted to dwell on.
Getting
back into the small hole he'd escaped from wasn't as easy
the second time around. The wood lodged in his leg caught
on the rocks pushing it further into his skin. Phoenix
screamed in agony. This time he felt the pain.
***
Scarlett
heard the howling and tried to open her eyes. It was so
very hard to open them, and it was so very cold. Her back
felt wet and sticky and her head throbbed like her heart
was beating inside her brain. Something within her told
her this wasn't good. Something inside her told her if
she didn't get up and fight she was surely dead.
***
Freeing
Michela had been relatively easy. The hard part had been
unwrapping her from his arms when she passed out. He didn't
want to leave her. She looked so vulnerable dead to the
world like she was. No, dead wasn't the right word, passed
out, unconscious. He had to remain positive. Isn't that
what his father had taught him? All he knew for sure was
that at least she was safe in the hallway where the torches
lined the wall. His main concern at the moment was Mike's
head injury and the fact that she was unconscious again.
He didn't want to leave her there but he had to find Faith
and the other two teenagers.
He tried to check her out more thoroughly but the piercing
scream that emanated from somewhere in the middle of the
rock filled room drew his attention. On instinct, Kevin
hurtled over fallen rocks and I-beams in the monastery
main hall until he was at Phoenix's side. He helped the
boy out of the hole he was half in and half out of. Phoenix's
pale, scared and dirty face looked scared and confused.
"Scarlett's
down there." Phoenix panted and sweat poured down
his face.
"Don't
worry. We'll get her out. Have you seen Faith?"
Phoenix's
eyes swelled. The fear in his stare was apparent.
"A
few minutes ago... well, I guess it was a few minutes
ago. It seems like longer..."
"Phoenix,
you're rambling. Where's Faith?"
"I
heard her cry out. Then she stopped." A tear mixed
with the sweat on his face. "I think she's dead."
***
The
offices in the American Embassy were nearly empty. It
was now after 8 pm. Nigel was brewing his second pot of
tea searching the cupboard for any sign of real sugar.
He hated that pink packaged stuff.
"Nigel!"
He could hear the bellow even from down the long hallway.
"Nigel," his boss screamed again. "I've
lost my good magnifying glass. Do you know where it is?"
Nigel
Bennett sighed. The man would surely lose his egocentric
head if it were not attached to his very thick neck.
"Coming."
he said, with a barely noticeable British accent. He had
worked hard to make his voice sound neutral. Grabbing
a handful of white sugar packets, he quickly thrust them
into a small whicker bowl, grabbed some stir sticks and
squeezed out of the small storage closet.
As
he locked the door behind him, he could hear footsteps
clicking down the hallway. They weren't women's high heels.
They sounded more like men's hard soled loafers. His eyes
grew wide and glasses slipped down his nose as he jostled
the contents of the whicker basket.
"No,"
he said, reassuring himself. "It couldn't be. He
wouldn't dare get involved with him again."
Nigel
raced down the hall, small white packets of sugar flying
behind him leaving a sort of bread crumb trail.
***
By
the time Kevin maneuvered through the small opening to
where Scarlett was lying he had severely lacerated his
back with long scratches. He gritted his teeth to conceal
the pain but it wasn't working. It took several minutes
to work the stones free from around Scarlett's body. Rocks
fell around them like miniature hail stones, and the rumbling
inside the monastery was only getting worse. Before long
the entire room would collapse in on itself.
"Phoenix!"
Kevin yelled from below. "Grab her arms."
Phoenix's
head poked through the opening and Kevin gently handed
Scarlett up to him.
"Be
careful. She's bleeding badly. We have to get her to a
hosptial as soon as possible," said Kevin as he pushed
her body up through the opening to higher ground.
A
small tremor hit as Kevin was halfway through the hole.
He grabbed onto both sides of the opening and braced himself.
His face contorted in concentration as he held his body
up like a gymnast. The tremor lessened leaving time for
Kevin to escape the small crypt-like cavern. The next
tremor hit severely shaking the entire room. The hole
Kevin had just escaped from suddenly filled in.
Phoenix
gaped at the sight. The uneven ground under his feet shifted
and he tumbled backward. Kevin reached out and caught
his arm jerking him forward.
"We
have to get out of here, NOW!" Kevin grabbed Scarlett
like she was a baby and ran around the boulders that were
covering the ground not to mention showering down all
about them. Phoenix trailed close behind holding his arms
above his head like a makeshift umbrella.
Kevin
finally felt somewhat safe as he deposited Scarlett's
body next to Michela's. Michela seemed to be stirring
but something was different. Someone had been there! Kevin
ran to the end of the corridor surveying the scene. A
door that hadn't been visible before was now open. He
hoped it was a way out.
As
he leaned his shoulder through the opening, something
flew straight at him. He tumbled backward when a large
black bat soared through the darkness beyond the door.
It hit him in the face tattooing him with long bat fingernail
marks down his cheek.
"Dammit!"
Kevin dabbed his face. The damn bat had drawn blood.
Before
he could examine the blood staining this hand he felt
a familiar sensation at his neck. It was the barrel of
a gun.
"Don't
move or I swear you're a dead man!"
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