XII. Winter

Jake McCartey watched his partner across his desk. He had given her what she was allowed to see. At the moment he had taken a break from translating the German document. It had been a while since he had done anything like that, but it was like riding a bike. After a minute or two, he got back into the rhythm of things. Stopping here and there to look up a word or two. It didn't help that he didn't speak German. He had taken classes to learn how to read the language, but talking was a whole other world. He wouldn't have a problem with the Greek or Japanese, he was fluent in those.

This Xanus guy got around. Who was he to talk about going around the globe? Jake had done his share of traveling. Australia was one of his favorites. He loved the beaches there, great waves too. He had put Greece and Crete on the top of his list, even if there was no surfing there.

Sara Pezzini handed him another paper without looking up. A continuation of what he was reading right now. Vorshlage had its hands in everything, didn't it?

The document dealt with testing of some kind. The type was unknown at the moment. It had been given a code name. He'd have to check up on that.

"It says here that Xanus and another man, James Broody, were in the same unit. Broody was discharged a few years before Xanus for failing a psychological exam. They were both that experiment together."

"Can you find out what that testing was, Jake?"

He nodded his head in the affirmative.

"Vorshlage provided the materials for the experiment. It doesn't say if it was a success or failure. The results might be in Xanus' medical records."

"Where are those?"

He pointed to the yellow envelope that her elbow was resting on. She picked it up and examined it. It was sealed: one of those things that she wasn't supposed to look at. He reached over and took it out of her hand.

"I was looking at that."

"No you weren't."

He undid the tabs on the envelope and pulled the contents out. They were blank sheets of paper.

"Jake, there's nothing there."

Jake held the papers up to the ceiling light.

"Water mark. Cool, huh?"

"I was about to have a heart attack, Jake."

"They don't do this anymore, actually. Too easy to figure out."

Sara went back to reading the stack of papers on her desk, and Jake continued with his side of things.

"Found it! . . . uh, Sara? What did the Roberts' woman say about her daughter and son-in-law?"

"They were very happy together."

"No. The other thing."

"That they were both some kind of psychics. Why?"

He sat back down.

"It looks like Vorshlage was helping test SEAL personnel for any substantial mental abilities. Xanus passed. That's not all, either." He held another sheet up. "It claims that Vorshlage was trying to develop those abilities in people who didn't have them. That part didn't go too well. Broody was released after the procedure went wrong."

"What do you think will happen if I try and get Thomas' grand daughter on the phone?"

"We have three, four really, people who shared a common trait. Might increase the count to five. Six, if Currie claimed to be as well."

"What happened to Broody?"

"He disappeared."

* * * *

Tim Rykles was a man who loved his job. He had been in love with the concept of forensic science since the moment he had learned of its existence. It was truly something to marvel at. They could solve entire cases by having an eye lash, some fibers from clothing, and in the most current situation a very small amount of blood.

When Jumbo had found the blood smear on the door knob, Tim had shouted "yes" at the top of his lungs. Detectives Pezzini and McCartey looked at him like he was out of his over active mind.

But he had been right. The blood wasn't from Brain Currie. It came from another body. Currie had been AB negative, this sample was O positive.

Tim printed out his findings and ran from the lab to his car. It wasn't too far to the precinct. He illegally parked in a handicapped space, and ignored the warning that a uniformed officer shouted at him. He didn't care. He looked around for the correct door and skidded to a halt when he found the right one.

He knocked and a woman's voice told him it was open.

"Hey you guys."

"Hey Tim." Jake greeted him. Sara was talking on the phone.

"What's up, Jake?"

"We might have found something. You?"

"I did find something."

Sara's head shot up.

"Got it right here," He handed Jake the print out. "We were right. The blood on the door was from another person. He must have cut himself on the broken glass. I know it really doesn't narrow anything down that much-"

"Hey Tim. It makes our job that much easier."

"I ordered a DNA profile. It might help some."

"Thanks. Hey, um, did you guys find anything else after we left."

"Some mud. It came from that factory. We checked every where for a foot print. Nada. What did you two come up with?"

"We're checking it out before we say anything official."

"Cool, man. That's cool. I will leave you two to your work."

The uniformed officer that had yelled at him stuck his head in the room.

"You can't park in a handicapped spot without a permit, pal."

"Bring the ticket on!"

Tim heard Jake laugh as he followed the officer out to the parking lot, and plucked the ticket out from his windshield wipers. He saluted the officer and took off.

Tim Rykles didn't care too much at the moment. He was treating himself to Mexican.

* * * *

"What the both of you are telling me, is that all of your identified victims, not including the Fillamore woman, claimed to be . . . psychic?"

"Yes, sir," Sara said slowly, "It is the only thing that the victims have in common."

"This is all you have?! Houcus Poucus?! I need something real, Detectives!!"

"Well, it doesn't matter if we believe it, sir. What does is that the victims did. Maybe even the killer."

"McCartey?"

"Sir."

"Was something like this in the SEAL's file?"

"Yes, Captain Dante."

The Captain took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.

"Well . . . I really don't know what to say, Detectives. I mean this . . ." He motioned to the air.

Sara spoke up. "It's more that what we had, sir."

Dante nodded his head in agreement, "It is."

Another deep breath.

"Go home Detectives get some rest. When you find a place to stay, call in the number."

"Good night, Sir."

Jake and Sara exited the Captain's office.

"He didn't like that one, Jake."

"He didn't fire us. That's progress, right?"

Jake wiped the snow of the windshield of the car before he got in. Sara cranked up the heater, and waited for him.

"If it gets any colder . . ."

"It's not that bad. So, where do we go from here?"

"Food."

"All right."

He backed out of the parking space, and left the precinct.

Too bad neither of them took notice of the man sweeping off the walk way. He had been watching them again.

* * * *

This wasn't supposed to be possible. She was born to wear the Blade. But the other woman had taken it from her, and had complete control of the weapon.

The other woman didn't seem too well. She was out of her mind. The warrioress reminded her of the old tales. The one's about he gods from the north. Where the Viking men lived. But they were all blonde. The woman had brown hair.

And she was so cold. She thought she might freeze to death.

Maybe the Blade was hers to begin with. No one knew where it had come from. It did look like it had come off the other's armor. If you could have called it armor. It looked to serve no purpose, but she had found out the hard way that it did. She had fought the other woman, it didn't look like she could win.

It got even colder. It wasn't supposed to be this cold in Germania. The red snow crunched under her boots. Giving her location away.

"Damn."

"You shouldn't say bad words." She spun around to meet the other woman's blue eyes. The Glove was different for her. It must be different for everyone. She held the long sword in her hand, not attached as hers was.

"Who are you?"

The other woman laughed. Like it was some kind of joke only she could understand. Did the cold not bother her?

"Who is anyone? A name is only a name." She was insane!

She took off running through the forest. She ran forever. She stopped to catch her breath. When she looked up, the other woman was there.

She raised the sword to her neck. She could feel blood well up at the point of contact.

"What makes you think you're worthy? To know anyone's name?"

"Tell me who you are! And when I get the Glove back, I might spare your life."

"You," She laughed again, "Spare me. I have died so many times. I have killed so many times." She trailed off. "Does one more really matter?"

"Who, what are you?!"

The other woman stopped laughing.

"Winter."

She raised the blade and swung to take her head off.

The blow never fell.

She opened her eyes to find no one there, and the bracelet on the bloodied snow at her feet.

* * * *

Sara bolted up right in bed. She could still feel the oppressive cold from her dream. It wouldn't go away. She pulled the covers closer to her body. It didn't help.

She continued to shiver.

When was Jake getting back?

He had left an hour or so ago to get some of his things. She had laid down on the bed and had fallen asleep instantly. And dreamt. What a strange dream. She thought only one person could rightfully wear the blade in one lifetime. The other woman . . . she was able to use the Blade more readily than the Blade wielder. "Winter" was impressive. The dream seemed so surreal this time, it made Sara wonder if it was a memory from a past wielder or someone else's dream.

The bed sunk slightly beside her. She hadn't heard Jake come in.

"Sara, are you all right?"

"I'm cold."

Jake wrapped his arms around her. She was still shivering.

"Jake?"

"Yeah."

"Rules."

"Rules?"

"We go slow. All right?"

She felt him nod his head in agreement. The snow had picked up out side, again. There was a odd moaning sound, and the power went out. Hopefully the hotel had a back up generator. Sara leaned back into Jake.

They sat in silence in the dark.

* * * *

The Lady Detective and the Partner weren't home. He had watched them when they left the police station, but he didn't drive. So he couldn't follow them. It didn't matter, all he had to do was close his eyes and concentrate. That's how he found everyone else. Now that he knew what she felt like, the Lady Detective was relatively easy to find.

They had gone somewhere to get away from him, or was it from the man in black. He wasn't too sure. He would have gone to look for her, but the snow was a problem. It hadn't snowed like this in a long time, and the wind made it worse.

So, he would wait again. Waiting wasn't so bad. But it didn't help that it was cold.

Seiji didn't seem to mind it all that much. When he had asked him if he was cold, Seiji had only looked at him. He didn't say anything.

Oh well.

He had found more people to help anyway. He had done that last night. He had found one at the Police Station. He was the man in the uniform behind the desk at night.

He would have to hold off on him, though. The police wouldn't understand. They were very protective of their people.

The officer wasn't at the top of his list right now.

In two days, the little girl would be at the park again.

He had been waiting to help her for a long time.