It Would All Be Over Soon, a v for vendetta fanfic

Disclaimer: As always, they're not mine and never will be. These characters and places belong to Alan Moore, DC Comics, Wachowski brothers, and Warner Bros.

Author's Note: This is one story of many (over 100) that are written in a timeline format. Not all of these stories have been posted on this site yet (some of them -- rated for adults only -- will never be posted to this site), but all of my stories -- including those not posted here yet -- have been posted on my aol website. Just click on my username for more information on how to get to my homepage, or do a search on PEAhopeless V for Vendetta Fan Fiction on the internet.

This story has accompanying artwork. To view them, visit my aol homepage and click on, "It Would All Be Over Soon".

This story is from early in the PEAhopeless timeline.

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It Would All Be Over Soon

It wasn't that Evey wanted to be spending her lunch hour like this. It was that she really had no other choice.

The Foreign Relations Committee -- still trying to form themselves into a proper department -- was organizing a diplomatic pilgrimage to India. It had been a delicate operation from the very beginning, Norsefire having seriously compromised England's relations with such long-lost sister countries. Sutler alone must have set them back decades. But the committee was determined, and struggling to put the new government's best foot forward.

Evey was to be part of the trip, as too were a handful of her immediate assistants within her Cultural Preservation Department. Then there were participants from the Defense and Intelligence branches of the government. Even a few from the Treasury and Trade Departments. It would be a large group, that was for sure. But not large enough.

... ... Certainly not large enough to grant adequate distance from one other delegate in particular.

Mr. Adrian Viedt from Counter Intelligence was going, supposedly to ensure that the constant threat of Norsefire insurgents would not destabilize the talks. At least that was the story. In Evey's opinion however, 'Mr. Viedt' had gotten himself seated in this group for the same reason that he'd gotten himself assigned to the task force reviewing her department's security the previous month ... ... and for the same reason that he'd landed on the committees to plan at least two other government functions the month before that. ... ... He was trying to spend as much time in her field of view as possible, without appearing too overt. Trying to become personal, under the guise of professional.

And now the meeting he insisted he needed to have with her, by the deadline of today, could only be done as a working lunch? There were just too many coincidences where Mr. Viedt was concerned, and V had taught her well never to blindly believe such things.

... ... That actually made the whole thing even worse. -- -- Remembering those other coincidences that had once brought her path together with that of a masked hero ... compared to the transparent, almost trite occurrences surrounding this apparently hopeful new suitor.

So far, she'd been playing along. He seemed genuine enough where England's reconstruction was concerned -- which was a considerable plus. And she had to admit, there were times when a friendly escort might be useful to have. He was at least polite and thoughtful in practice, which was more than she could say for some of the other agents she'd met at government-centered gatherings.

... ... She would have to lay down some ground rules though. Might even do so today, at their 'working lunch'. Her friendship would have its limits, as long as the new People's Government remained her top priority -- -- and as long as other memories still lingered in that part of her heart. ... What she may or may not be ready for, was not as clear-cut as Mr. Viedt probably hoped.

How did she get herself into these situations, she chastised herself as she moved hurriedly along the street. How did she end up juggling things she never really wanted to juggle? Well, for today at least, she would insist the conversation remain focused. Get the necessary details of the India trip hammered out, then get back to the office as promptly as she could.

... ... She was almost there -- just a couple more blocks. It would all be over soon.

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It wasn't that the man hiding in the alleyway wanted to be there ... trying his luck at the age old art of assassination. It was that he really had no other choice.

This was necessary. For his friends. For his family. For the future of the country he loved. If the remnants of the Norsefire party were ever to be taken seriously, then they would have to prove their strength to this new 'government' pretending to sit in power.

Strategies had been drawn; plans had been laid; and orders had been given, that marked as targets a number of the revolution's figureheads. Strikes at the very heart of the new government's morale, as well as a reminder that not all of England stood in approval. It had been a solicitor, three weeks ago. One who had acted as judge and jury against two former Norsefire military commanders. And now ... it would be the darling of the revolution ... ... Evey Hammond.

The best man had been chosen for the job. At least, the best man within the group who'd taken on the task. Organization was as good as it could be, for soldiers having to work below law enforcement's radar, and dealing with roughly secured systems of communication that still left much to be desired. ... ... But yes, the rebel who stood in that alleyway, that late London morning, was proud to have been selected for the job.

... ... Even if he wasn't particularly looking forward to it.

There were risks. With all forms of warfare, there were risks. He'd been careful though. As diligent and careful as was humanly possible, ensuring that no one knew of his presence -- -- least of all, his target.

She was approaching on the street this very moment, enroute, according to the communiqué he'd received just an hour earlier, to a meeting for her God-forsaken People's Government. More plans to return good mother England into the hands of her worldly enemies, no doubt. It made his assignment this morning that much less disagreeable.

... ... Ms. Hammond was proving where her loyalties truly lay. And for that, she must accept the consequences.

Pressing himself flat against the old brick building, he hid in the shadows, waiting as she approached the street junction just beyond.

He was ready ... prepared ... and confident.

... ... It would all be over soon.

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And actually, it wasn't that the hero in black, crouched on an overhead ledge in that very same alleyway, wanted to be there either.

... ... Not like this.

... ... Not with the brutal knowledge of what was about to happen -- -- both right there, ten feet away from him ... and in a restaurant two blocks distant.

It was that he really had no other choice.

In a matter of minutes, when his 90 certainty over this rebel's identity as the assassin, was confirmed to 100, he would simply have to kill the thug. It wasn't a question ... it was a statement of fact. ... ... V was a patient man, as well as a just man. But once that final proof was had, this questionable citizen who had been 'coincidentally' following Evey, would die.

His surveillance had revealed the rumour a week ago, that a hit was being planned on Evey. It had been vague; it had been brief; and it had been passed through unreliable sources. But it had been more than enough for the masked man to intensify his already persistent watch over his former friend. The actual cell of insurgents remained unknown, but he would determine it, now that he was certain he'd located the culprit selected for the job.

... ... And then they too would feel his wrath.

For now though, V simply waited, perched above the distasteful criminal until the weapon was revealed. That would be when this more inexperienced killer -- like countless others before him -- would have one last moment of hesitation. ... One last distraction of intent, wondering if he too might become a victim in the commission of this evil deed. ... ... That fear. ... That one last question.

V did not suffer from that particular curse. There was nothing to fear when it was the woman he loved at risk, nor did he doubt the rightness of his actions.

In the distance, Evey Hammond's footsteps could be heard, moving quickly along the empty sidewalk. V knew the cadence well, having listened to it dozens of times over these last months. She was approaching, having no knowledge of the plot against her.

... ... She was on her way to a luncheon, with one Mr. Adrian Viedt.

Yes, V knew. ... ... The restaurant two blocks to the west, the address of which he'd discovered while perusing -- -- alright, hacking -- -- her personal office diary.

The invasion of privacy was for her own protection of course, and therefore necessary. But he hadn't enjoyed it -- neither in principle nor in practice -- especially after he'd seen Viedt's name repeated.

Oh the checks had been run on that young man as well ... weeks earlier actually, when Viedt's path had begun to 'coincidentally' cross Evey's. The man was an intelligence agent, with a slightly questionable familial background, but a proven -- and growing -- track record within the new government. There was nothing terribly outstanding about him, one way or the other. -- -- -- Except for the fact that he now held Evey's attention.

It hurt.

There was no point in pretending otherwise. ... ... Perhaps, ironically, it was fortunate that V had no one he had to pretend 'to'. Least of all Evey.

And really, he knew it was coming. One day.

As long as he stayed away from her, affording her the freedom of a new life in a new world ... saving her from any sense of duty or guilt that might only tie her to the shadows ... he knew the day was coming. -- -- When Evey would find her life mate.

It still hurt though. More than any prior parting had ever done.

... ... More than the day she had run away in fear. -- -- Whatever she was finding with Mr. Viedt, was sure to be a calmer, more enduring emotion than 'fear'.

... ... More than the day a newly reborn Evey had climbed confidently up from the tube tunnel labyrinth. -- -- There was no shaky promise of return this time. No November fifth to which he might cling.

... ... More, even, than the night he had willingly given himself over to death. -- -- There would be no reprieve this time. Once Evey Hammond took the step of binding herself to a chosen partner, she would not be one to change course readily.

V would no longer be needed to watch over her as silent guardian. -- -- Surely an intelligence agent could provide ample protection ... especially once the fallout dust of the resistance movement and rebel cells, had settled.

At that point, it would be far less necessary for a masked man to be watching from the darkness. ... ... And far more painful too.

... ... It already was.

Even now, the sound of her approaching footfalls seemed to tick off the time ... second by second ... til the day when she would no longer require V's protection. -- -- And another part of his life would simply come to a close.

Below, the rebel pressed himself flat against the wall ... trying to escape into the shadows. Didn't he realize that the shadows were V's allies? And would never help someone with such evil intent?

Then the gun was produced ... eliciting a cold scowl behind the Fawkesian mask, and the further readying of the hero's position. That was all it took. The thug was now as good as dead.

A hastening in Evey's progress as she journeyed toward her luncheon.

An inhalation of breath -- for both men -- as Evey passed the alleyway's entrance.

Then one step, taken by the assassin as he leaned toward the street, intending to put a bullet cleanly into Evey's back ... ... when a smooth, razor-sharp knife blade was inserted just as cleanly, and with just as little warning, into the flesh of his throat.

Jugular was severed. Trachea was severed. All with the organic hiss of parting flesh that V knew so well.

The gun fell, clattering to the floor while V watched the stranger's death ... ... feeling no regret ... only relief, that the soul given up this late morning would not be Evey's. And here was one less person to threaten her ... now a corpse, as blood soaked out around the sharp metal skewer.

From the street beyond, came a brief pause in the receding footfalls. ... ... Perhaps she had detected the noise from the dropped gun? She certainly had not heard her would-be killer's final breath. -- -- Or rather, 'gurgle'. -- -- V had been the only one privy to that. ... ... And the masked man held his breath for a second time, prepared to drop his charge and hoist himself to a window ledge, if there were any sign of Evey's return.

But there was none, and as soon as it had stopped, the rhythmic cadence of shoe on sidewalk resumed ... even a beat or two faster.

With her safely out of earshot, the rebel was finally released, V yanking his knife free with another swish of steel. The body slumped to the ground, with no protest left as the blade was wiped clean on an already bloody jacket.

The gun -- -- that was retrieved. V would do what the authorities often could not -- -- trace the weapon to the traffickers he was already monitoring, and in turn, to the particular cell responsible for this attempt on Evey's life. No police ... no agents ... not even Mr. Viedt need be involved. V would deal with the perpetrators quite efficiently on his own.

And then, at last, the long-hidden revolutionary hero risked one glance into the city street beyond. Toward the woman who hurried away, as if nothing had ever happened.

She had her meeting to attend. With her new friend. ... ... With her new beau? ... ... And V had his own task. -- -- To visit justice upon the guilty.

... ... He would not watch her travel those last two blocks. She would be safe enough.

... ... He would not watch her enter the restaurant, to greet the man whose company she now sought. It would simply hurt too much.

... ... And eventually, this would end. ... ... He hoped. ... ... He would find a way to truly let her go. -- -- Let her build a full life, without eyes peering out from the shadows.

She would move on. She already was. And he would have to find a way too. -- -- He'd no longer have a choice. ... ... Whether he liked it or not, it would all be over soon.

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Special notes:

Adrian Veidt is a character from Moore's Watchmen series. My hubby is a big fan, and asked me to use the name somehow. I interchanged two letters, but otherwise the characters have no relation to each other.

A month or so ago (when this was first posted on my aol site), artist Wednesday42 did a comic (found on my website). She believed that it belonged in the Purgatorio section of timeline (that is, between the end of the movie, and V and Evey's reunion in the story "Mirror of Resurrection"). So note, this is during that one-and-a-half years that V is hiding himself from Evey. For example, recall "A Reflection in a Fountain". Those, basically, were my parameters for writing this. As a result, this is not a cheery story. After I finished it, I, personally, went off and re-read a later story (I chose "Sweet and Twenty") just to feel better. You might want to consider something like that too.

As of the date of writing this (Dec '06), I've been at this for about nine months now. I introduced Adrian Viedt long, long ago, when I wrote my first V/Evey story, "Mirror of Resurrection". But as many people know, I jump around within the timeline when I write. So, to those who have already read the other stories ... ... you've seen Adrian before, obviously, and know how everything works out. I figured this was a good point in the timeline for him to make an appearance.

To new and future readers, who come across this story while reading them in the correct chronological/timeline order, I need to say this: ... ... Do not let Adrian worry you. I am about as determined that V/Evey should be together as anyone else on this planet. Believe me. And I would never really "put" Evey with anyone else. So no one should worry about this. Go look at the Paradisio list (found on my aol website). -- That's V and Evey finally together. So no one worry, please.

This story has accompanying artwork. To view them, visit my aol homepage and click on, "It Would All Be Over Soon".

This story is from early in the PEAhopeless timeline.