Hope you had a great B-Day Chameleon.
Fauna, I send this Ch. out to you, be well.
The usual applies; I own no one or nothing pertaining to this story.
Chapter 2 Don't Look Now
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Ex Special Agent Jeff Mills had been in London for ten days. With his finances dwindling fast and still no leads on the whereabouts of Lecter and Starling he became distraught, even more so than when he had been fired. His mind had finally snapped.
Dropping his duffle bag to the ground, Mills sat down on the curb in front of a little coffee shop, placing his head in his hands.
His revenge had eaten away at him until nothing else remained. Everything he was, or had ever hoped to be, had died that night, in a small villa in California. Taken from him by two people he wanted to kill more than anything. He wanted them to suffer as he had, to feel pain from within.
Starling was the one he wanted most of all, for she had betrayed him.
He trusted her and she laughed at him. The note that had been pinned to his shirt that night was in her writing. The humiliation he felt, being found in such a way. He wished they would have killed him, at least he could have retained some of his dignity.
Now as he sat on the curb, in a strange city, almost broke, he contemplated his own suicide.
The thought of death didn't bother him, what was there to live for?
Only the hatred he carried had kept him going this long. He wasn't even sure if they were here.
There were only three flights leaving the country around the time the rental car had been returned to the airport, one for Greece, one for Spain and the one for London.
He didn't have a clue which one they had taken, or if they had actually left at all.
He chose London, only because he figured he could at least speak the language.
Mills had been sitting on the curb for an hour. He decided that jumping off the London Bridge would probably do the job. Just as he started to get up, a taxi pulled along side the curb, across the street from him. A woman got out and entered one of the shops.
Making his way to his feet, the twinkle in his eyes, matched only by the evil smile that played across his face as he hummed a single word,
"Starling."
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Mills grabbed his bag and went inside the coffee shop. There he waited for Clarice to exit the shop across the street. After about twenty minutes, she did just that, hailing a taxi.
As the taxi pulled away, Mills did the same, instructing the driver to follow the other taxi.
They drove for thirty minutes before the first taxi pulled into a long driveway. He tried to get a look at the house, but it was to far from the main road.
Mills told his driver to keep going. After another mile or so, he had the driver let him out on the side of the road.
As Mills started the walk back towards the house he said, "Your mine now Starling, all mine."
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Clarice entered the house and headed straight for his study, knowing that's where he would most likely be. She was correct. Walking through the door she saw him sitting at his desk, reading.
When he heard her enter the room, he looked up from the book, an arched brow was his only question.
"You were right," she said
"Did he follow you?"
"Yes, but he continued down the road, I'm not sure how far."
"Excellent, now we must prepare for our guest."
"Are you sure you want to do this? I only saw his reflection in the glass, but Delia was right.
He had a look in his eyes that…. well, that I could only compare to one person."
"What are you trying say my dear, that maybe Mr. Mills is not quite stable?" he said as he winked at her.
"You know what I mean, he just looked very determined that's all."
"Not to worry Clarice, all the better for us if he is not in full command of his faculties. People driven by strong emotions are very easily manipulated."
"If you say so, but I still think this is nuts."
"Nuts? Maybe. Fun? Definitely."
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Mills had made his way back to the house. House hell, it was more like a damn mansion.
The whole property was surrounded by trees, which would make for nice cover until he had a plan on how to convert his rage into action.
After it got dark, Mills wandered around the property for a long time, finally finding a tree that seemed to suit his purpose. The big oak tree sat about thirty yards and to the left of the house. Climbing the tree, he pulled the binoculars from his bag, along with a 9mm that he stuck in his belt.
It hadn't been as difficult finding a gun as he thought, however the black-market in London was quite a bit more expensive than the states, costing him a thousand dollars for the weapon and the ammo. Money well spent, he thought. The nice 'salesman' even threw in a ten inch Bowie knife with sheath.
Mills took a look through the binoculars, scanning the property before focusing on the house.
He could see a few lights on downstairs and one light on upstairs, but he could see no movement.
Feeling pretty secure in his present location, he found a comfortable spot in between a couple of large branches and sat back resting his head against the trunk of the tree. Removing the gun from his belt, he laid it across his chest, still gripping it tightly in his right hand, he closed his eyes.
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It was about 1:00am when Hannibal decided to go outside and take a look around.
He was dressed in black slacks, black turtleneck and a black baseball hat.
As he stood in the kitchen, ready to exit through the back door, Clarice walked over to him, placing both hands on his face, "I won't tell you to be careful, just hurry back.
You know what it does to me when you wear all black," she said with a grin.
Placing his right arm around her waist, he pulled her to him, kissing her softly on the forehead.
Releasing her, he winked and vanished through the door.
She locked the door behind him, then poured herself a glass of wine and retreated to the livingroom to watch the fire and wait.
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