Best Laid Plans III - The Goblet Of Truth
by Ticklefish
The man walked up the short path to his front door. Like all the houses in this neighborhood, the path cut the front yard into two small, equal sections. With all the other houses, this yard was always filled with neat, orderly plants and flowers. There was the occasional statue or sundial as well. This was a neighborhood where people looked after their gardens and tended them carefully.
Not with this house though. As the man walked along the path, the areas to the left and right of it were nothing but solid concrete. Gardens were an unneeded distraction. This man had a mission. No gardener he, this man was a crusader.
For many years he had fought without any concern for his own well-being. These days he walked with the aid of a cane and could only see out of his left eye, but he walked with his head held high. He had sacrificed much but it had all been for a good cause.
The man walked into his house and shrugged off his coat. Hanging it on a peg, he limped into the lounge. It was late at night and pitch black, but he had long committed the exact layout of his house to memory so he walked with confidence to an armchair, sat down and pulled out a small revolver. He pointed it into the shadows and pulled back the hammer.
"You have five seconds to tell me what you're doing here before I blow your head off." he said in a cold, level tone.
"You haven't changed one bit, Sven, you're still just as distrustful as ever."
The gun stayed exactly where it was. Sven's eyes narrowed.
"It's not me who changed. I'm not the one who sold out."
"I..oh, for pity's sake, put the gun away, will you? I came here to talk not to fight."
Sven paused and then slowly eased the hammer back and returned the weapon to his pocket.
There was a soft click and the room was bathed in gentle light. Sitting casually on a couch on the other side of the room was a woman dressed in dark clothing, a small lamp on the table next to her. Sven was pleased to note that his aim, as always, had been absolutely perfect. If he had pulled the trigger, the woman's head would have vanished. He leant back and smiled.
"So, can't you afford decent threads on a sell-out's salary?"
The woman scowled.
"Don't call me that. I didn't sell out."
"What else should I call you, Claire?" he replied, "You walked out on us and went straight over to the man. Gave yourself to the enemy."
Claire had no intention of being drawn into this old argument again but there was something about the man that just needled away at her.
"The enemy?" she exclaimed, "They're on the same side as us. They want the same things. They just have better...what?"
Sven's smile had evolved into a wide grin.
"'They'? 'Us'? I'm guessing you haven't totally bought into their brainwashing then. There's still hope for you yet."
"Brainwashing? How the hell can you..there's no brainwashing anywhere in the BSAA. At all! For God's sake Sven, my brother helped start the damned thing. My actual brother and he.."
"Your brother's a blind tool," Sven cut in, "he's a tool of the man. He's just too stupid to realize how he's being manipulated. You're smarter than him. At least I thought you were. Until you left, that is."
Claire realized that, once again, she was being pulled into Sven's world. If she let him, he would drag her down and she'd never escape again. She took a deep breath and held it, silently counting to ten.
1. 2. 3..
The man continued talking.
"You left but maybe you've come back. Maybe I'm being harsh, maybe you've seen the light and you've come back to us."
6. 7. 8..
"We could do with you back, Claire. I could do with you back. Claire?"
9. 10.
Claire realized her breath in a slow hiss through her teeth. The pause had worked. She felt more in control of herself and it looked as though Sven had calmed down a little too. That wouldn't last. Not with what she had to tell him.
"I'm not coming back, Sven. That's not what I'm here for."
"No? That's a pity. We were very good together."
Claire shook her head.
"Sven...I came because I need your help."
The man in the chair opened his mouth to say something but closed it without making a single sound. He placed his hands on the chair's arms and, with a grunt, levered himself up to a standing position. Using his cane to steady him, he walked to a small, brown cabinet in the corner of the room.
"Sven, I didn't want to come here. I didn't want to open up old wounds."
There was a faint clinking noise and the sound of running fluids. Sven looked back over his shoulder.
"Want one?" he said, waving a short glass containing something glistening.
"No thanks, I don't drink anymore." Claire winced at the lie and wondered why she said it.
Sven turned to face her.
"No?" he asked, "You surprise me. I remember a woman who could drink anybody under the table. Even me. "
He grinned.
"Of course, sometimes I let you.."
"I've changed a lot."
"I'm sure."
Sven started back across the room. He got about halfway to the chair before he tripped. Maybe his cane got in the way, maybe he had misjudged the shadows, Claire wasn't sure. One moment he was fine, the next he was sprawled across the rug, the brandy soaking into the fibers.
She dashed to his aid and had gotten a hand under his arm to help him up before he angrily shook her off.
"Get off me! I'm fine, I'm fine!"
Claire took a step back, ready to move forward if she was needed but Sven managed to get himself back to his armchair. He didn't sit in it, preferring instead to sit on the floor with his back against the chair. As he got his breath back, Claire noticed in puzzlement that he had managed to keep hold of his glass the whole time.
"Are you okay? I thought you knew this house inside and out."
"I do," Sven gasped, "I do, it's just, it's, it's you. You're distracting me, I can't.."
He swallowed and tried to regain his usual cool demeanor.
"What do you want, Claire? Huh? Just what..do..you..want?"
"Sherry Birkin." she replied, squatting on the floor in front of him.
"The Devil's daughter, eh?" Sven sniggered, "And just what do you want from her?"
"I want to find her, make sure she's safe and I want you to help me."
There was a long pause. Sven's face was inscrutable but his gaze was intense.
"I don't see how I can," he said eventually, "there's no way I can get you into that fortress the fed's have got her in. You know how long we've been trying to get in there."
Claire scratched her chin with her thumb, her mind racing. She suspected, no, she knew, that Sven knew more than he was saying. She had no way of telling how much he knew about what she knew. With a man like Sven, you were wise to play your hands extremely close to your chest. Sven never gave away more than he wanted. Although he also never tripped in his own house..
While Claire was busy thinking, her mouth decided to take the initiative.
"She's been kidnapped." she said, "The federal agents are all dead."
Claire had known Sven for a long time. In all those years, he always had an answer for everything. He was always prepared for every occasion. The look of surprise on his face was so strange that she almost didn't realize it for what it was.
"They're dead?" he exclaimed, "But she told me she wouldn't.."
Claire leaned closer, a frown forming on her face.
"What aren't you telling me, Sven? Who are you talking about?"
Sven raised his glass to his lips to take a drink, realized it was empty and looked lost for a few seconds. He looked down at the floor, his eyes focusing on something unknown.
"It was a while back. This woman came to me one day and said she needed Terra Save's help with something."
"Who was she?" Claire asked but the man didn't appear to hear.
"It was after you left. She reminded me of you somehow. I was missing you and..well..that's probably why I wasn't more suspicious. I never even thought to ask how she found me."
"who was she, Sven?" Claire repeated.
"Heh. She even had the same taste in motorbikes. Maybe I thought that she and I would..oh, it doesn't matter."
Sven drew in a deep breath and looked Claire in the eye.
"She wanted to know how to free Sherry Birkin," he continued, "I gave her all the information I had. I told her what we know about the layout, patrol patterns, CCTV placements. Everything."
There was only thing Claire could think of to say.
"Why?"
Sven sighed.
"I don't know, I really don't. She said she was going to free the girl and bring her to us. She said she was going to sneak in and absolutely not hurt anyone. She said she was trying to prevent violence not cause it. In those words. Those exact words, I remember it perfectly."
He looked again at his glass as if hoping to find an answer.
"I killed those people," he said in a cold, dead voice, "I always swore that we would do everything possible to save lives and I helped somebody.."
Despite herself, Claire couldn't help but try to save Sven's feelings. Deep down, past all the bluster and bravado, she knew that Sven was essentially a man of peace. It was one of the aspects of him that had attracted her in the first place.
"We don't know who's responsible. It could have been anybody." he said, hoping Sven wouldn't notice how trite it sounded.
Sven continued to stare at the glass and said nothing.
"Who was she?" Claire said quietly. "Did she give you a name?"
For a moment it seemed like Sven wouldn't say anything but then he sighed and, in a low voice, muttered "Elza Walker. Her name was Elza Walker."
And with that, a small, neat bullet hole appeared in the middle of his forehead and his lifeless body toppled softly sideways to the floor.
