Shout 2000
by theRegalBeagle
Disclaimer: The title of this fic is actually a song by the band Disturbed, but I'm borrowing it for the time being. Thanx Disturbed! I do not own Silas, Langdon, Neveu, or Teabing…….or Sauniere. But I would be happy to take the rights of Silas off of Dan Brown's hands if he…like…didn't want them anymore or something…….just throwing it out there.
Call me.
A/N:This takes place when Silas is "hunting" Sauniere down in that French gallery….Louvre….or something. Whatever. Details are for the weak at heart. :cough:
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Chapter One - Pretty Fast for an Old Guy…
Unbelievable…he thought as he hurriedly pushed open a door at the end of the gallery. In French, in big bold, red letters, the word 'EXIT' hung over the door. When the door opened and he stepped in, his red eyes glared at the many steps in front of him. Clutching the gun in his pale, white hand, Silas quickly started running down them. "He can not get far…I will make sure of that…" He recollected the resent events that took place:
The hulking (hah! Brown's not the only one who can use that word!) albino was told to find Jacques Sauniere, interrogate him, and take the information given on the keystone. Instead, the chase took an incredible turn for the worst. Reaching the Grand Gallery, Sauniere himself took out a gun. Startling him with the first shot, Silas hid behind the corner leading into the gallery, safely out of Sauniere's range. Silas waited impatiently for a few seconds, and then he began to come out. Another shot…nearly hitting him. Instead, though, it missed and the bullet went straight into a porcelain Renaissance vase. Thank God…Silas looked up, the very tip of an iron gate stuck out of the ceiling. One wrong move and he could be trapped. Silas figured the police would be notified, but knew his mission was too important for Opus Dei and the Church. Taking a deep breath, he raised his weapon and jumped out. He shot a few rounds, all the while running to the other side of the Gallery's entrance. When he reached the other corner he closed his eyes and listened.
Silence.
Did I not hit him? Silas thought he would have heard an old man gasping in pain, or at least in fear and surprise. Instead, he heard nothing. Not even a single breath. He inched his way out of his newly acquired hiding spot and looked in the gallery. He saw his gun shots on a wall in the middle of the gallery. Paintings hung all around the shots, but none were hit. "Good aim, I suppose…" Silas looked left and right. Sauniere was no where in eyesight. Whether he was hiding in a spot like behind the lonely shot up wall…or if he already escaped, Silas wasn't sure.
"Monsieur, I wouldn't expect a man of your…caliber and power…" Silas slowly eased his way into the Louvre's Grand Gallery. It was huge, and rooms jutted out of it. All of the doors to those rooms were shut; most likely locked at this time of night, "…and sophistication to carry a gun." Silas stopped in his tracks. He heard a snickering.
"It is because of my caliber and power and sophistication that I carry a gun around, sir. What is your reason?" Silas looked from wall to wall, from the ceiling to the center shot up wall. He raised his gun and almost immediately his target stepped out from behind the wall. He aimed faster than Silas could raise his gun, and shot. Silas followed his action while quickly falling to the side.
His white body fell to the floor, his gun slipping from his grasp. He looked up, expecting to see an old man aiming a rusty gun at his head. Instead, he saw that same old man racing for a door with the French version of 'EXIT' hanging over the top.
"Stop!" Silas picked himself up and grabbed his gun as he ran to the exit. Sauniere turned around as he began closing the door. Silas caught his eyes and suddenly felt his body freeze up. He was paralyzed, unable to move. He never took his eyes off of his prey's. Sauniere returned the favor…then stuck his hand out and showed his gun. It wasn't rusty, it was almost brand new. Silas had no clue as to what was happening. He tried to speak; he tried to yell something…anything. Instead he just stood frozen and stared as Jacques Sauniere, the last sénéchaux, dropped his gun and slammed the door shut. Silas could hear the clicking sound of the lock, "His keys…."
Silas, suddenly realizing what happened, shook his head and looked at his gun. He ran over to Sauniere's abandoned weapon, still in a daze, and stuck it in his pocket. He tried to push the door open, but it wouldn't budge. So, instead he held the barrel of his gun and slammed down with little effort onto the handle of the door. It cracked off. The door slid open automatically and Silas walked through.
Running down the steps, Silas realized that Sauniere was leading him to the basement. Was he leading him? Or was he running away, trying to find the best routes in the French museum? Either way, Silas could not give up. Fear had to be forgotten from his mind.
As he reached the last few steps, he jumped down from the ones he was currently occupying. The less steps, the better. Silas hit the ceramic floor and felt the teeth of his thigh's tormentor dig into his fresh flesh (tongue-twisters for all!). Used to the pain of his cilice, he took up speed as he ran down a short hallway at the bottom of the steps. Without thinking, Silas held the barrel of his gun again and jabbed it into the handle on the new exit door. Chances that it was locked as well were big. Why waste time finding out…Silas pushed the door open and quickly scanned his current setting……
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A/N: First of all, I am just assuming that Silas had no idea that Sauniere was the supposed Grand Master of the Priory of Sion. I figure he thought he was just another sénéchaux. Also, if anything else about the Grand Gallery or the Louvre Museum or anything is wrong or historically inaccurate or……whatever, sorry! Rly am! Advice is accepted.
Thanx for reading. May be a while before the next chapter is up, but enjoy rereading this one! lol