A/N: Merry Christmas one and all! Thought I'd put this up as a kind of feeble gift to my readers and reviewers alike. Hope you all enjoy this part, and thanks for reviewing chapter 28. It's starting to crescendo now.
Mina surveyed the carnage at her feet. Blood covered the floor, making it hazardous to traverse in her boots, and she was a little ruffled now from the fighting. She had just taken down a rather snivelling German man, one who seemed to have seen much in this life, but wanted to end it all. He had given up disappointingly early.
Stepping over the bodies, she saw the blade she had given to Skinner floating near the other end of the corridor. "Is that all of them?" she inquired, looking to where she suspected his face would be.
There was a sigh, and he handed the dagger to her as he replied, "I think so. Can't see any live ones. I think you got 'em all."
"Good," she hissed, kicking the dead body of one near her feet. "New York will be the better for it."
There was a roar down the next corridor, directly followed by a loud crash as a body was hurled into the wall at the adjoining junction. It groaned and tried to rise, panting and nursing injuries, trying to free itself from the looming figure of Hyde as he stomped into view.
Nemo came up before him, and held up a hand. "You have had your way with this one, Hyde. Even though he is a monster, he has suffered enough."
There was a look of gratitude on the werewolf's face. Mina noticed that they were completely human in appearance... they had not transformed at all. Perhaps they had, and had decided it was useless against Hyde, who knew?
Nemo raised his sword, and brought it down on the man's neck. The head rolled to the floor, and the body slumped, dead.
With a light sigh, Mina picked her way through the corridor to join with her companions.
Hyde himself groaned loudly now, and grimaced. His formula was done. He started to jerk and convulse madly, twisting this way and that hideously as his own transformation began. There was a pained cry from the half-returned body of Jekyll, and within a matter of moments, after the last of the spasms subsided, Henry was back. He gasped and panted heavily, worn and exhausted, clutching his trousers at the waist to stop them from falling.
"I think you need to get changed, mate," Skinner voiced, pointing to some of the dead figures at their feet. "I'm sure they won't mind."
Jekyll nodded, and shuffled off to do as was suggested. After all, he couldn't very well walk back to the Nautilus almost naked. Mina smiled without humour, and watched him leave.
"What of your men?" she asked Nemo, and the Indian turned his majestic head to her. He lifted a brow.
"They were ordered out into the grounds when they have completed their tasks. I suspect they are converging there as we speak."
Mina nodded, and glanced between the captain and Skinner's disembodied breathing. "And what of Tom Sawyer? Has anyone seen him since we split up?"
Skinner may have shaken his head, for there was a delay before he said, "Not me. Not a sign of him."
"I have not seen him in some time, Mrs Harker," Nemo offered.
It wasn't long before Jekyll returned, dressed rather oddly in some clothes that were a little too large for him. But still, it was better than having to hold his own trousers up. The shirt was sporting a rather large hole in the side, perhaps where Skinner had stabbed the previous owner, and there was another in the chest. Apparently, he had missed the first time. Jekyll had located some scuffed shoes to slip on, tying the laces hurriedly in order to get back to them. The trousers were grubby. All in all, he looked a little like a London tramp.
"We should find Mr Sawyer," Nemo suggested wisely, and looked up and down the corridor.
"And how do you suggest we do that? This place is huge," Skinner said with an edge. "It could take us hours. We'd have to check room by room."
Mina's head turned at a sound that her sensitive hearing picked up on. She listened, and heard the sound again, recognising it this time. "Or we could just follow the gunfire."
Charles had made it all the way to his public quarters where he had first encountered Sawyer in his own home, and was making an attempt to gather up the most vital objects to him so he could abandon his mansion. Everything was going wrong now, he had seen the first signs when the damned League had burst in and interrupted the siring. Now he had seen many bodies of his former 'employees' lying dead in the corridors on his way here, and he was infuriated.
It had been his focus for the last two years to build all of this up, and now the League had ruined it. It was all that Sawyer boy's fault, him and Anise. She had grown too attached to the damn American, and if she hadn't they would have gotten this over with long ago, and there would be no resistance.
As he reached for his jacket and hat on the coat rack, he heard the cocking of a rifle once again as he had before, and with a deep irritated sigh, he turned around, cane still in his hand. "You again... you seem intent on ruining me, boy."
"I'm not a boy," he growled, and aimed down the barrel of his Winchester rifle. If it weren't for the threat of the gun, Charles would have destroyed him right there and then. "And you tried to kill me."
"I tried to turn you, there's a difference," Charles informed him none too politely, thoroughly impatient now. He just wanted this American disposed of so he could start his life up somewhere else. Perhaps if he could find Jacques they would be able to begin again.
"Same thing in my book."
Charles rolled his eyes at the narrow-minded outlook the boy was showing. "If it makes you feel any better, my dear boy, you were not even my first choice."
The gun wavered slightly, but did not lower in its aim. Sawyer cocked his head slightly more to one side as he awaited clarification.
Very well, Charles thought, resting one hand on his cane as he stood, he wants the truth, then he can have it.
"I'm sure you will recall a fellow Secret Service Agent... as I understand, a good friend of yours." Charles raised his eyebrows, hoping the boy would understand now.
Apparently he did. "Huckleberry Finn," he said quietly, and the barrel of the gun lowered now, as if his concentration were lost.
Maybe Charles would get out of here alive after all. "Yes. The boy showed great potential, but unfortunately he was killed before we could get to him. A bit of a shame really."
It happened so quickly, he barely noticed it, but Charles saw Sawyer release the rifle with his right hand, snatch a pistol from his holster and pull the trigger.
Charles managed not to cry out too loudly as the bullet ripped into his shoulder, and he staggered with the impact. He breathed deeply and scowled at Sawyer, before letting out a dry, humourless laugh. "Close, were you?"
Sawyer glared, the pistol in its holster once more now. Both hands were back on the rifle firmly, as he said, "You could say that. Talk about him that way again, and I'll aim higher."
He meant it... Charles could tell. He had hit on a sore subject, and despite the urge to torment the boy further, Sawyer had a range weapon. Charles did not. He would drop it for now. If the oppurtunity came along later on, he would gladly take it.
"Well... that was bracing," Charles mumbled sarcastically, and managed to draw himself up to his full height once again, the fresh wound on his shoulder burning.
"Now we're even," Sawyer replied with a grim smile.
"Ah yes," Charles acknowledged quietly. "Unfortunately, now that my entire force has been destroyed, just about, you are no longer required alive." He chuckled under his breath at the movement in the shadows behind Sawyer from both sides. Some of his 'employees' had survived it seemed. At least two.
As they stepped out slowly, he saw it to be Alessandro and Paulo. Good fighters, loyal and brutal. Just what he needed if he had any hopes of starting all this up again.
Paulo moved closer to Sawyer, and it seemed as though the American had not seen him. That was, of course, until he spun swiftly and fired off a shot from the rifle. It seemed impossible anyone could move so fast.
Paulo let out a scream, and fell back against the wall, growling with the agony.
"It can't be," Charles muttered disbelievingly as Paulo showed no signs of recovering. "How..."
Sawyer had half-turned back to warn off Alessandro with the rifle now as he replied, "Well, see, the funny thing is, Mina Harker seems to think silver has some sort of serious affect on these guys." His green eyes floated over his shoulder to take in the agonised form of Paulo as he panted. "Looks like she was right."
Alessandro snarled furiously at the wounding of his companion and made a move towards Sawyer, who pulled down smoothly on the lever of his rifle. Another round loaded into the barrel securely, the gun ready to fire again when needed.
Sawyer cocked his head at Alessandro, and then shook his head. "I don't think so," he mumbled. There was a determined look on his young face.
Charles knew he had to do something, and fast. The boy was taking the upper hand, and that was not favourable.
Eyeing Alessandro, he made a motion towards Sawyer with his head. It seemed the Italian understood, and there may have been a hint of fear on his face. It was so unusual, Charles wasn't sure. He just gestured more forcefully, gripping the top of his cane tightly, though it pained his shoulder to do so.
With a grim expression of resolve on his face, Alessandro lunged, knowing it could very well be the end of him. There was the resounding explosion from the gun, and Alessandro was thrown back, a bleeding hole in his chest. He writhed in agony, the mirror image of Paulo against the other wall.
It was all Charles needed, and he lunged forward, ripping the shell of the cane-sword free, and tossing it aside, striking out with the blade. Sawyer seemed to sense what was going on, that he had been lured to distraction, and twisted his body, managing to avoid the blade by a mere inch.
With an infuriated yell, spurred on by the blazing pain in his shoulder, Charles lunged again.
