Alright my dear readers, you thought I forgot you, didn't you? (Again) apologies for the break but I decided to change the rhythm of posting from one week to two. I know that's not ideal and I DO know that there are authors here posting chapters longer than mine with about two days interval between, but I post as I write and my life made clear that I don't have the time for writing and posting every week. So long story short: I'm sorry for the mess, I will keep posting every second week now.

Thank you from all of my heart for you still sticking around! I hope that the story lives up to your expectations (whatever they might be), and you enjoy it!

Now, so much for the 'what a night', Ara thought bluntly and tried to breath the pain out of her leg. Bullshit. I'm not breathing with my legs, am I? She kept coughing violently, gasping for air inbetween. The Bible had hit her in a very unholy way and send her in dyspnoea for what now appeared to be a year. As that slowly decreased, she kept coughing as rather a - somewhat clever, she gratulated herself - way to buy her time, reflect her situation and try to figure out how she would be able to get not only herself but also Diego out of that mess. They were both still alive, Diego seemed to be unconscious but not too severly injured, which was an advantage in her opinion. If Butler had entered the apartment with the intention to kill, she probably wouldn't be able to entertain him with her theatre-coughing.

Fuck, that bloody hurts! she thought and tried to turn as far as possible without dislocating her knee or breaking her leg, to face Butler and had to surpress a painful sound while doing so. The shards from the table had pierced her skin in different locations, she was bleeding, the shelf was lain heavily on her leg - which didn't feel like it was broken, she noticed but for some reason that didn't cheer her up too much - and, the literally biggest problem, Butler was, of course, still in the room and he didn't quite look like he'd go home and leave them here without them giving him whatever he was here for.

Ara was just about to give that a closer analysis and to wonder if they'd get away that easily if they just handed him the chip, as the question of "Where is Artemis" rumbled through the tiny room and left her puzzled. She was very sure that her surprise about that question was clearly written over her face, somewhere under the pain and the bit of blood that had found a way there somehow, so she didn't answer at all. Artemis? What was that supposed to mean? The boy was supposed to be at home or maybe he was still rooted in front of his school, how should she know?

There was an odd second of unsettling silence, less unsettling for Butler since he wasn't the one trapped under a freaking bookshelf and aimed at. Ara started coughing slightly after a few moments, as if to test if he was still awake. He was and the hardly recognizable rise of an eyebrow seemed like a terrifying threat to her. She hacked again and tried to look more innocent. Her mind was absolutely blank but nevertheless she tried to give a satisfying answer. That didn't really work, as she noticed afterwards.

"I don't know," she started and that was, according to her current condition, a good start, but she felt how it went downhill as she suggested: "Have you looked where you left him?" like the heir was some sort of lost key or credit card.

To her honor, whatever Butler had expected, it was for sure not this answer. Silence densed around them, suddenly interrupted by the clock that decided that this was the actual moment to get some attention and crashed down on the floor with an audible bang. Ara's heart came up to her throat and she was glad that Butler wasn't jumpy or he might have shot her.

By the way he glares at me now, he might do anyway. That thought was working hard to tear down anything left of her usual bold personality, almost turning her into a nervous wreck. What're you waiting for? It's not like I have him in my pocket!

It took her a second and the slight change on Butler's face to realise that she had actually said that thought out loud. Something, maybe an unwitting movement, let the shelf shift to the side. It almost broke her leg and pinned her more violently to the floor as it did before. The quiet shout stuck in her throat and Ara exhaled a shaky breath into the floor.

"So you don't have him?" Butler asked and dashed through the warm cloud of pain she had tried to shield herself behind. She growled like a cornered animal.

"We don't. Wouldn't have been our best idea, would it." The man didn't asnwer that one. It was one of these sentences not in need of an answer, like standing on the edge of a cliff and stating that I shouldn't jump down there, should I? Diego made a strange nose, nigh on waking up but he didn't. Not yet. Butler didn't seem to care but that was probably nothing Ara was able to judge about. At this point she wasn't sure if she could tell any kind of emotion on his face. Say, she was rather sure she could not.

Kiara knew, albeit her pain and slight dizziness, what would come next. There were two things hanging in the air and her problem was that she basically didn't know how to answer those questions. Maybe it was just by some sort of sudden religiousness induced by the brutal connection with the Bible but a small, almost abandoned part in her brain remembered a few paragraphs of the prayers some of Linus' people used to make, and so she tried for it. Quietly, of course. She didn't believe that it would work out anyway but why not reach out for any possible help?

Alas, it didn't. Whatever godess was in charge for thiefs was currently busy with somebody else in trouble. Ara felt like she knew the question a heartbeat before Butler said it.

"Who were you working for?"

Knowing something is one but hearing it is very different. There was an unspoken law everybody in Linus' services followed and that was to never, absolutely never, no matter what they were faced with, tell anyone that Linus was the person behind a plan. Not that much because of loyalty. The realtionship between Fitch and most of his guys didn't run on loyalty or friendship. The pillars it was standing on were the two that were the most efficient ones: money and fear. There had been a few members of what Linus liked to call his gang, denying the fact that it was what other people liked to call mafia-like, that hadn't followed this rule. And these unlucky firsts were the reason why everybody else would now stick to it.

That much in theory. Theories all sound so damn logic as long as you're not confronted with what they actually mean. In this specific case it was Ara confronted with the difference between logic and emotionl reality. She didn't know actually how far Butler would go but she knew very well that, for sure, even he would hesitate in sight of the borders Linus would easily step over with a smile. Or at least she sincerely hoped so. The dilemma left her panting like a chivvied dog or a cheetah after a full-speed hunt. Rather the gazelle than the cheetah, which she was reminded about by her leg that started stinging like hell. Not too long and she might lose the feeling in it totally and then things would get really funny.

She was about to answer because she was just not willing to die in here and maybe there was some sort of chance of running from Fitch but something stopped her. Backstabbing Linus was something he would neither forget nor forgive. She alone might be able to run - but her brother? Francis didn't even know how irritatingly wrong things had went, how the plan had been blown up. Fitch would compensate her absence and instead let her brother regret her failings. She wouldn't let that happen and if her only chances to protect him were to shut her mouth, grit her teeth and be as brave as she always pretended to be, than maybe this was how it meant to end.

Time to grow a pair, Ara, she thought, and she almost hyperventilated as she locked eyes with Butler. Man, those are black eyes, she tried to distract herself but that didn't work either. Nothing worked today. Fine, fuck it. If my leg gets buried under that damn shelf I won't be able to run anywhere anway. Why not go down with a little bit of bravado? "I'm afraid," she growled and felt her heart beating so violently like it was screaming at her what she was actually thinking she was doing?! but she ignored. "But that information appears to be sensitive."

She fought the actual pain it caused her to not look away as her opponent's eyes seemingly got anoher tad darker. She felt sick. The feeling doubled as Butler made a single step forward, due to the little room now so close she had to twist her neck awkwardly to keep the eye-contact up. The shards cracked under his boots. Maybe I'll just he could do about that, eh?

"You sure you want to go that way?" His voice, or rather the tone in it let her shudder and Ara gritted her teeth until they felt like they'd crash. Come on, stupid, just tell him. He'll find out anyway, sooner or later. Save that whole hero-shit for another time. If this was the voice of ratio or of emotion, friend or fiend, she couldn't tell. But she decided to push her luck even she already knew that this was the actual point of jumping down the cliff.

"Quite sure," she answered. Fainting sounds good, doesn't it? Easy solution, maybe he's to impatient to wait until - She heaved a loud groan before she was able to hold it back and slumped forwards involuntarily, interrupting the eye-contact as Butler stepped with one foot onto a part of the shelf that was set right over her knee, pushed a bit and thus increased the weight that acted upon her leg. He released that weight after a few seconds and Ara breathed heavily, hissing insults and curses through gritted teeth. Or die, fuck the fainting, I'll just die, people do that every minute, it can't be that bad ... In a strange moment of half-consciousness, she tried to push herself up, and almost forgot the little wounds she had suffered due to the shattered table. Ara coughed and managed not to throw up. Just. Couldn't guarantee for that the next time.

But before anything worse could occur, Diego made another strange sound, just like a perfect imitation of his first one, and this time he did move. Butler whirled round but according to the happily bleeding laceration the man had suffered he would feel too dizzy to start any other chivalrous rescues now. It appeared like Diego had been conscious in the last minute or so but had been unable to gather enough control to move or talk. Now that he had gathered both, things were lying differently. Now it wasn't only on Ara's shoulders to keep Linus' participation confidental and, though it embarrased her to admit, it felt releaving. That was wrong. She shouldn't feel like that.

Her ex-ex-boyfriend or in whatever state they were currently in - not that it mattered a lot but oddly enough, it did though - wiped the blood off his face and gave Butler a well-intentioned death-stare that wasn't too impressing. The thought was there after all. "Leave off her, man," Diego coughed and stopped his failing attempts to sit up against the wall. He didn't even consider to make it for the door. So he had learnt. Diego ran a hand through his hair in a scatterbrained gesture and sullied it with his own blood. "Both of us work for Linus Fitch, bet you heard of him."

Kiara wasn't quite sure wheter to feel betrayed because he had just overseen her attempts to act like a real hero, or to be thankful because he had actually saved her and taken the decision from her. And possibly sacrificed Francis. If Fitch ever finds out ... That deleted every thoughts of being thankful for Diego's actions. The only thing she was thankful for was the shelf that kept her from jumping up and going at his throat.

She barely recognized the quiet click in her ear that indicated somebody tuned in her line of the earphones. "Ara, you won't believe the news I have!" her brother yelled into her ear, unknowingly of her current situation and that she would be able to say: likewise.

Francis was on fire. Less than five minutes ago, Linus had entered the little working space of his, a scary grin on his face that was his usual way to show the world: look at me, I'm the greatest, and as always the puppets dance on my command. Nicholas had entered right behind him and he presented the very same expression that made Francis freeze. Because there was only one thing that could make Nicholas that simply happy and this was normally connected to some form of homocide or at least brutal violence. Francis liked none of these possible reasons for the good mood.

"Francis, boy!" Fitch barked cheerily like he hadn't expected the young man to be here. "How's your sis doing, pal? Everything's right? She met her old loverboy yet?" Francis took a sharp breath. Nicholas smiled about Fitch's blunt jokes and Linus himself acted like he was totally drunk. So somebody had been killed.

"She's fine," Francis said nevertheless, hiding his worries. "When I last tuned in, she was about to meet Diego." Which was the truth since he had the feeling the two of them might prefer a bit of privacy. "By now, she should be resting in the apartment."

The way Linus giggled gave Francis goosebumps. "Perfect, perfect. Boy, I have something new for you to do. Important." It was pretty clear that Fitch tried to satisfy his love for dramatic moments and thus wanted to have all eyes on him but Francis couldn't help but stare at Nicholas, seemingly in deep fascination for the laptop on the side table. In reality, the man was listening to every uttered sound and processed his envrionment with an eagle's eyes. What is he here for? Usually, Nicholas had two functions: kill or something as brutal, or intimidate.

"Sure," he answered and forced a kind smile to his lips. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing spectatcular." Which could be easily translated in the direction of as sensational as the detection of a white whale in the Shannon. "Just we have the youngest heir of a certain crimelord in our hands."

Francis forced a blank expression on his face to conceil the true horror he felt. That was ... that was ... "That was never the plan, was it?" he asked quietly and hoped he appeared calm whilst inside his chest his heart tried to break through his ribcage.

"Huh?" Linus turned, acted like he was surprised by the question. "Oh, no, no, it wasn't." It was. Linus, what have you done? "But there were some ... unexpected changes of plans. Somebody tried to get his hands on the boy and we couldn't let that happen, could we?" Francis' brain was working under high pressure. Fitch was lying, pretending that Francis had no reason to mistrust the man. But he had. He never showed, he didn't have a death-wish, but neither he nor his sister had ever believed anything of the friendly surface Fitch showed them most of times. They both tried to cover that suspicion. But it was always there, like a shadow following them silently.

Francis gulped. "So what -" are you going to do with him, he wanted to ask but he swallowed the words. Linus didn't like his people snooping around in parts of his plans they weren't needed for. "What do you need me for?" Francis asked instead.

"You'll watch the security systems. Just in case."

They both knew why he picked Francis for that surveillance. Francis wasn't the only technician in Linus' team, nor was he his best. But he was good, after all, very good somebody other than Fitch would have said, and he was already involved. The shorter the chain, the more unlike a link is to spring open. Maybe there was a bit of trust in the game, too. Fitch liked to think of Ara and her brother like they were puppies he had found on the street, like they were to feel obliged because he had taken them out of the gutter, made them somebody. Even if that somebody basically was the same as a nobody on purpose but that didn't matter for him. Linus didn't trust many people but he had almost infinite trust in himself and in his appearance to others. He knew that Francis wouldn't betray him. And Francis knew, too.

"Sure," he said, still playing it cool. "Is he likely to break out?" Nicholas' evil smile denied, and so did Linus.

"No, not really. Better safe than sorry, after all." Fitch handed him a piece of paper with the relevant cameras and obsegatings he was supposed to look after for however as long as Fitch wanted him to.

That was a few minutes ago, less than five, as said, and now Francis was alone in his room and called his sister at her earphones to keep her up to date. In his usual manner, he didn't bother with 'knocking' to make sure if she was currently free, he just started talking and didn't leave her any space for an answer.

"Ara, you won't believe the news I have! Fitch just came about, he two-timed us! Said he has Fowl here, he wants me to make sure the boy won't scoot but I believe it's rather about nobody coming in than nobody getting out ... God, I can't believe he did that! I mean, I'd say I'd trusted him but that would obviously be a lie but still! What was he thinking! Sending you to Fowl Manor was dangerous enough, that was crazy but kidnapping Artemis is so much worse, there ain't a word for it! Linus pretends that he had just got his hands on the boy somewhat accidently but what the heck, do I look so dumb? Now we're the one under suspicion, you realise that? Fuck, as soon as Butler finds his boy missing, he'll for sure go after you! Ara, maybe you should leave that apartment, just to ... you know, better safe than sorry and all that. Man, I've just been quoting linus, must be the nerves ... what do you think, sis? Better leave and try to find somewhere to hide and keep your head down. Damn, I feel somewhat sorry for the boy but I can't help him, can I? Fitch will skin me alive if I did ... Ara? You there? What do you think?"

Silence, the only sound in the line was her erratic breathing. Oh, God. "Ara?" Dead silence. She was there but she refused to answer. Situation was to serious to joke for her now, that'd be rather his point. And by the way she huffed things were miles ways from normal ...

Jesus, no ... "Alright , Ara, hold on, I have a plan."

Which wasn't actually true. He didn't have one now but he'd improvise one. Francis already knew what had happened. He had just prophesied it himself.

Luckily, the lion's share of Butler's attention was on Diego and his attempts to not fall unconscious again, though of course he hadn't forgot Ara. She was still pinned under the shelf and, yes, it still hurt like the devil in person would poke her with a huge, burning pitchfork. Who had ever been able to see how this night could get even more worse? Her feelings had went from shock over surprise to even more shock, terror, then hate and then most of them had gone astray, leaving her with a lot of self-pity and not too much combative spirit. Couldn't that moron have called earlier? Say, four minutes, before she had told Butler that they for sure were not the ones in charge for Artemis' disappearance? And now Francis was out of the line, figuring out some sort of plan. If she had the option to do so, she would've shouted at him to leave her fucking alone and not bother her with some sort of plans.

Calm. She needed to calm down, she had to. She didn't have to face that all alone, did she? Diego was here and if she was logic, he had saved her from her own stupidity by breaking Fitch's rules. And Francis was not dumb at all, his plans worked usually - he had got her out of the Manor! If left by herself, she would've probably lost the orientation somewhere in those creepy halls.

She drew her attention back to Diego who had buyed them time with his Oscar-worthy enactment of a boy passing out. Alas, it appeared like Butler was not going to fall for that too long. Ara wondered if she could just interpose and do something until Francis had made up his plan, as ...

... her phone rang. Well, it didn't ring in the literal meaning, it rather hummed but the sound was loud enough - and the feeling surprisingly enough - to let her make a startled noise she would've be embarrassed for in another situation. Heads turned to her. Don't tell me that is your plan, Francis. The device was in her pocket, casually on that very side on which her leg was stuck. That felt strange.

Ara ducked alarmed as Butler swung the pistol back to her. "I suppose that's yours," he said bluntly and only for a millisecond, the temptation to try for a What? That's not my phone! was overwhelmingly strong. Of course she didn't. Kiara decided to make advantage of that weird situation.

"Think so," she answered, still remembered of her helplessness by the throbbing pain in her leg, and did the most counterintuitive thing she was capable of: push her leg in a short, powerful movement deeper under the shelf where it got almost irreversibly stuck. Butler growled, he knew what she tried to do. She was aware that she pushed her luck, again, and nothing granted her that she'd be the one winning at the end. "But with my leg stuck like that, I won't be able to reach it, unfortunately."

Diego, ripped of his role as the boy passing out, inhaled sharply as if to show the non-existent audience that this, ladies and gentlemen, is the critical moment. Butler clearly fancied to just leave her stuck under the furniture forever or until she made it out herself (whilst the chances for doing so, she had just extinguished) but to her luck and despite other people in his milieu, he didn't have actual fun in violence, as there was not much to win for him if her leg wasted away due to a restricted blood flow. Besides, the caller might just be her mother asking her to dress warmly but it could be somebody important, for her and for him, so finally he bent down, clasped one side of the shelf and heaved it off her, which made it look like the furniture was made of paper mâché. Ara almost groaned with relieve as the weight left her leg. She knew that the pain would get worse but that was supposed to be a good sign. Now it was time to do her part. Ara didn't lend herself to illusions - Butler had freed her leg because it was not a change of anything for him, except that he didn't waste his attention on attempting to fiddle the phone out of her pocket himself.

With a hand that was more shaky than it should be, Ara reached into her pocket, grasped the phone on the second attempt and pulled it out. A miracle that it was still fine, actually. She answered the call and put the caller - most likely her brother - on speakerphone so Butler could hear who called. I just hope that Francis' so-called plan is a good one. On the other hand, she wasn't buried under that shelf anymore so how could he bring about any harm to the situation?

Of course, you should never think that for the first thing Francis said, without Ara having any chance to stop or interrupt him, was:

"Ara, you won't believe it! Linus has just taken Artemis Fowl as a hostage!"

This is it for this time! Thanks for reading, have a good time and until next time!

~Assan