Part Two: On A Hiding to Nothing

Prologue

Eleven fifty nine. A figure stepped out of the promising fog; searching. His stance strangely relaxed and accepting all actions. Somewhere close a clock tower chimed midnight, but it fell deaf on his ears. A hand lay resting; fingering the gun he knew so well. It didn't bother him. He never lost sleep.

He waited.

"I know you are here," Yassen stated calmly, his eyes frozen. He smiled when his expected company emerged cautiously from behind one of the beams. The other man didn't bother with stealth. He walked up casually, positioning himself thirty feet across, directly facing Yassen, with his head slightly down. He did not want to look into Yassen's eyes.

The assassin had his firearm out and prepared his standpoint within a flash second. No reaction. He blinked when John raised his hands in surrender, waiting for the bullet exclusive of words or resistance. It could be a trap. But why would John want to die with his son alive?

His aim was perfect. He couldn't miss.

"It won't be that easy, John. With you dead I could kill Alex easily. ," He started, his words breaking total silence and waiting for reaction, "Or. Maybe I will lie to him. Like you lied to me…"

His former mentor did not move a muscle. That unsettled him. He could handle an argument. He wanted to fight. But not this…one sided confrontation... He did not fear the silence that followed after the shot. Now, the silence had already started. John already felt dead to him, standing willingly without complaint at Yassen's objective.

He stepped forward thrusting his gun sideways. His lust for blood was yearning for the struggle and pain he had expected. Grinning, he noticed John step backwards as he started walking briskly towards him. "Why don't you face me, you coward?!" He spat out, reaching for John's arm and pulling his chin up with a free hand to look at him eye to eye. The other man struggled, feeling his neck being crushed with the cold hand until he felt Yassen's gun slip from its master and fall to the ground. The grip immediately loosened and Yassen bolted back from his victim in a mixture of fascinated horror.

Ian Rider stared back with unnervingly calm confidence.

"What do you intend to do Yassen?" The other man questioned, sounding perfectly in sync with the tone of his mentor.

The clock tower rang once.

Yassen hesitated. "I could kill you," he suggested.

"You already have." Ian said, blue eyes glistening.

Twice.

"Well?"

The third chime did not come. A moment later, the bridge was engulfed in flames and Yassen was falling.

He bolted upright to unwelcoming sweaty sheets, groping for solid ground. He was not falling.

This was yet another reason as to why Yassen did not sleep often. He had nightmares. It was not unusual for them to be reoccurring. The first time he had this particular dream; John had been waiting at the end of the bridge for him.

He had not expected Ian. Especially feeling so…alive. And with John's voice. Or perhaps that was Ian Rider's voice after all. The man had been quite silent when Yassen ended his life, as if he had expected it.

Shivering, Yassen ran a hand through his hair. The spirit of the vision always left him breathless and unfulfilled. He wanted to finish off the taunting demon at the end of the bridge and end the face that stared him down in bursting caveat.

Smiling, he lay down again. John Rider did not deserve his title. He was a fraud and nothing more.

I will hunt the hunter.

A/N- I'm back :D

Fyi: For those that are not familiar: the phrase, 'On A Hiding To Nothing' is a phrase which means,' To be faced with a situation in which is impossible to escape and/or resolve as a successful outcome is impossible'.

This will be the general idea of part two. I stole-erm-borrowed the idea from Little Dorrit, Great Expectations, and David Copperfield. Speaking of which, the writers of the show Heroes have obviously gotten the same idea as me. Their show has now become a superhero rip-off of Charles Dickens(lol. I really do like watching it though XD)