Well, thanks for the comments on the last chapter, what I meant about direction though was in terms of emotions, it's been so hard to write this so that it doesn't sound like a soap opera, not only that, but to write 'x' so that 'n' still makes sense. I've known how the plot would go, ( I mean I'm not even done writing story two of this trilogy, and I'm already mapping out story one of the next,) but writing out relationships and peoples mental states is what's difficult.

Remember - I NEED feedback - I live on it J

Chap 29 - Preparations

"The last recorded record of him is a ticket bought a month ago for a plane flying to France. Accordingly he never boarded that plane. His telephone calls were made to various people, all of them have been traced and cheeked except three, and those three telephone numbers have been very well hidden. In fact – they're not on his 'official' telephone records at all. As of now I've had no luck tracing them." Gorgio sat in front Carlo, between them two glasses of sherry and a folder, As Gorgio spoke Carlo looked through the folder, finally he put it down.

"This man's most definitely not dead." Carlo's words were strong in their conviction, and while brief, they summarized what had become their only possibility. "Dead men don't vanish."

***

Even before Sarah opened her eyes, she knew that something was different, the entire vibe of Irons' had changed over night. Even in the seclusion of her room, she could smell the fresh coffee wafting up from the kitchens, feel the soft scurry of servants everywhere. She didn't know if it was the Witchblade that allowed her to sense these things, but she was glad she did all the scents and sounds were strange for Irons household, but it reminded her of a normal home. Home, she thought, how strange it is to associate such a thought with such a man.

When Sarah had finished showering and had changed into a morning robe, Colleen came in looking chipper, but flushed. As if she too sensed the buzz that seemed to float about the house today. "Morning Miss." Colleen held something over her arm as she came in, holding a box in her hand. "Master Irons told me to bring these to you, he'd like you to wear them this morning." When Sarah unzipped the black dry cleaners bag she found a stunning black silk suit, it was tailored to fit somewhere between her tastes and Irons, that it would fit perfectly was already a given. In the other box, was a stunning diamond choker and matching earrings, but somehow she had become accustomed to such extravagances.

Setting her outfit down, she allowed Colleen pin her hair up elaborately, and then to do her makeup, when Sarah finally slipped into the suit she knew that she looked nothing like her normal self. Inwardly she was praying that she wouldn't mess things up, wouldn't do something to give away her motives behind conforming to Irons. As she moved to close the clasp on the back of her necklace, a sudden blinding vision overtook her sense.

The room was cold, too cold for mid August, the curtains around the bed were drawn tightly. The shape of a pale form within was barely visible. Nearby stood two forms huddled closely together, deep in conversation. It was a grim Tableau, upon one mans face worry and confusion were clearly etched. On the second, cold curiosity was the only visible emotion. Sarah couldn't hear the words, they were muffled, distant. They both looked surreal, crisp and clean as if they, like their suits, had just been dry-cleaned. The woman in the bed was cold too, almost icy, she was cold, and, as Sarah suddenly realized, dead.

With a sharp in drawn breath, the diamonds clattered to the floor. The face of the dead woman was her own.

***

Irons gave a small barely visible start, the twin circles over his hand sending a cold, almost electric shock up his arm. For once he had no idea where it came from nor why. Nearby a slight clang was heard as a clumsy servant hit a coffeepot against a cup. Testily he snapped at the unfortunate girl, who quickly retreated out of the breakfast room, bringing the coffee up to Sarah. With his teeth clenched Irons took a deep breath. This was not how things were supposed to go, in fact, it almost felt as if something were working against him.

***

Ian almost smiled as he watched Irons fume and fidget, living in a household filled with life was something that Irons had almost forgotten. Something that no doubt brought about unpleasant memories, and maybe – if he was human- guilt. Today was an important day for Irons, one that shouldn't be started off badly, but Callie had asked him to make sure that it did, and Ian never could refuse his little sister. For a moment yesterdays events came back to him, and so did his searing anger at Sarah's mistrust. He bit it back though, right now, Ian needed to retreat because Nottingham, the assassin, was needed.

***

Erik sat in the news van going over every detail of the blues prints one last time. Already he had memorized the placement of every pressure panel, every laser trip, and every security camera. The damned thing was that someone else had broken into the computers here two days ago, so every damned security guard was on an alert status, and the security system itself had been added it. It was the additions that now had to look out for. Against his wrist his watch beeped, one hour, then it'd be show time.