In Harm's Way
Prologue
Nikola Tesla stood back from the table to stretch. His lean form seemed leaner in his custom tailored three-piece suit, and he removed his jacket – carefully folding it and placing it on the table behind him, before pressing his hands to the small of his back. It ached from the many hours he had spent stooped over the numerous documents and maps laid out before him. Across from him his lifelong friend, Helena Wells, remained enraptured by a series of pages from an ancient text. She, like he, had not moved for hours. The two had spent days locked in much-loved research and he could feel every minute of it in his small frame. He twisted himself until a joint gave way, smiling at the sound of the satisfying crack. "Good God, Nikola, what was that?" Helena looked up at him as he straightened his vest.
"L-3 if I'm not mistaken," he answered jovially and stretched his neck to the left and right before grinning at her. She rolled her eyes in response, but also took the time to stretch her muscles before they both went back to their work in mutual silence. Less than ten minutes later something caught Tesla's eye and he hunched in closer to a map he had yet to scrutinize. He quickly picked up a book and flipped to a page with a copy of a lithograph. He looked from the photograph to the map more than once and then excitedly whispered, "Eureka."
Helena looked up with interest. "Did you really find it?" She studied his face with curiosity.
"You know how it pains me to admit it, but you were right all along." The excitement in his voice matched his boyish exuberance, but was absent all the showmanship he often displayed, and she knew he had finally found something of real merit. "Come, take a look." She stood and began walking toward him, but hesitated at the sound of her cell phone. Helena looked to her right. The insistent vibration echoed into the room as the phone danced across the tabletop – its screen lit up in quiet demand to be answered. "I'm sorry," Tesla's jesting voice intercepted her hand before she could pick it up. "Keeping you from someone, am I?" She looked up to see the ever-present smirk on his face. It was a visual challenge she knew all too well.
Helena quirked her eyebrow at him before pressing the power switch on the phone, ignoring the sad reluctant chimes of its shutdown sequence. "Hush," she commanded him. "Of course not." She tucked the phone into her pocket deciding whoever had called – they would just have to wait until she was free.
"I always knew I was the real love of your life," he mocked. She narrowed her eyes at him and they both laughed. It was a quiet reminder of the friendship they had forged in a time few could say they knew as well as they. Indeed, it had been many years since she felt as alive as she did in this moment – as if no time at all had passed in the world. But, in fact, a great many years had passed. In some ways it was a difficult thing to remember how anachronistic the three of them really were, she moreso than the other two for having been only newly reintroduced to the world at large. Looking around at the well-manicured villa her friend Helen Magnus had appropriated for their time in Italy, she smiled. It was closer to her own time than the present, but it was modern enough to provide all the comforts she could have wanted.
The grandeur of their temporary home reminded her of the many memories the three friends had collected together over the years. It was, in many ways, a perfect example of her friend's exquisite taste. Some things will never change, she thought as she gazed upon the expertly frescoed walls and beautifully tiled floors. It was good to be on holiday, good to be amongst friends, and it was good to immerse herself in a timeless mystery with them. Long ago the trio had been inseparable, and she wanted nothing to get in the way of rekindling the cherished camaraderie after all their years apart. That they could spend the time researching an old pursuit they had once shared made it that much better.
They worked into the wee hours of the morning, as they had the previous nights, and Helena was happily exhausted when she finally laid her head on her pillow. It did not take her long to fall fitfully asleep. Morning came quickly and she roused herself for another day of research as quickly as she could. Once more they lost themselves in the work and before she knew it, it was midday. Just before lunch Helena picked up the voicemail and ruefully listened to the sound of her lover's voice. She wished she had picked up the phone when it rang. But she could not help but smile as she listened; hearing the way Myka Bering fumbled through messages always amused her, and she took mental note of the less than pleased tone in Myka's voice. She lamented about having declined the invitation to Naples, but was trying to make the best of the routine case she had been given. She and her young protégé, Claudia Donovan, were headed to Seattle in the morning. The Pacific Northwest was beautiful in its own right, but it was not Naples, and Helena felt she understood the slight complaining whine Myka tried to hide.
Helena glanced at her watch quickly working out the time conversion. The two agents were already on the plane. She pressed a speed-dial button and when the call connected, she left a message suggesting they try to reach each other after the plane landed. But, it was hours later before Helena remembered the tentative appointment. When she finally thought to check her phone her heart fell. Five missed calls.
She set her thumb above the green button to dial the last caller when a familiar voice called out. "Tea?" She watched as Magnus strode into the room carrying a tray. Helena could not help but appreciate the visage of the well-groomed doctor who walked briskly in her immaculate skirt suit - her fashionable heels clicking softly against the porcelain floor as she deftly maneuvered through the debris-field the two researchers had left around the shared tables. "I thought the two of you might want a break."
Helena brightened. "Magnus," she said as she absent-mindedly slipped the phone into her pocket – the call to Myka temporarily forgotten. "You absolutely spoil me."
Tesla did not miss a beat. "No milk nor sugar, Irene." It was his age-old nickname for her. A reminder of a shared past bound in a history few would ever know. She glanced at him, but he never looked up; instead he buried himself in a text as his voice trailed off leaving her to manage for them both.
Helena tilted her head as she turned to Magnus finding herself facing a matching tilt. But etched across Magnus' deceptively youthful expression was a mock look of shocked disbelief. "Tesla trusting you to make his tea? Good heavens, Wells, what have the two of you been up to in here?"
The three friends enjoyed their small break to catch each other up on where their research was leading, and were soon back to work. Later that evening when they stopped for another cup of tea, Helena reached for the phone in her back pocket. She had missed Myka too many times, and she really wanted to hear her voice. She dialed her voicemail and listened to her messages as she prepared her cup of tea. She smiled as she listened to the first messages, all from Myka. Her absent love let her know she had made it in safely and updated her on the progress of the case. The last update revealed Myka's piqued interest over some sort of unexpected development. Helena was genuinely glad to hear the change in her voice, and hoped it meant her wayward agent would end up enjoying her time in Seattle. She smiled when Myka hurriedly whispered "I love you," at the end of the message. I love you, too, Helena thought. One more message to go before she could dial Myka back.
She lifted the cup of tea to her lips as the final message began to play. The voice of Myka's partner, Pete Lattimer, filled her ear pulling the smile from her face. Helena and Pete had a tumultuous relationship at the best of times. That he would call her for any reason gave her pause. Moments later both Magnus and Tesla raised their heads at the sound of porcelain breaking against porcelain. The amber liquid in Helena's cup spread out trying to reclaim the broken pieces that once held it. She said not a word as she ran from the room, leaving her two friends to stare at one another in bewilderment.
