Danger Zone

By Divamercury

Standard disclaimer applies. Enjoy the story!

Chapter 2

"Ian? Where are we going, anyway?" she asked a few minutes later.

"I have a refuge downtown that Irons knows nothing about," I replied. "We will be safe there."

"Well, works for me. Just tell me one thing, if you would. How did you find out about all of this?"

"I was preparing to retire for the evening when I walked past Irons's office. The door was ajar and I could hear his one-sided conversation with the leader of the Speakers. He was doing all of the talking, instructing them on exactly how to get you out of his way. Naturally he didn't tell me himself; he would realize that I would stop him. All I wonder about now is how long it will take him to figure out that I am helping you escape him."

"Thank you, Ian. You didn't have to do all this just for me," she said quietly.

We reached a red light. I rounded on her, angry that she didn't realize her worth.

"What do you mean?" Do you really think that I would stand by and do nothing? That I would rather see you killed than take a risk? Sara, my life is to protect you and the Witchblade, and that is what I intend to do." Even if it kills me,' I thought.

She looked at me, surprised.

"Well, when you put it that way" she trailed off. "That wasn't what I was thinking, anyway. What I meant was that you didn't have to go to all this trouble. Hell, you could have told me about the plot, vanished as is you way much of the time, and then left me on my own. I would have been fine."

"I could have, but I didn't. Besides, there was no guarantee that you could have gotten away without help. I wanted to make absolutely sure that you were somewhere where no one would ever dream of looking. And this is it," I said, pulling into an alley beside a warehouse in Sara's least favorite part of town. She grimaced when she realized she was in the warehouse district.

"Welcome to my sanctuary," I said a bit over-dramatically.

"Right. Well, come on, then, we don't have all day," she said, and grinning, I led her up to the front door. I unlocked said door and we entered the room. I flipped the light switch beside the door and I heard Sara inhale sharply.

"Wow," she said. "This is beautiful, Ian."

I was rather proud of the way I had decorated, but had never had the opportunity to share it with anyone. The floor was tiled with white marble and the walls were adorned with paintings and tapestries I had found by chance. I watched Sara as she explored the refuge, making a beeline for the large display of swords of various lengths and widths that I had collected over the years that was displayed on the wall opposite from the door.

"These are incredible. This one is especially impressive," she said, gesturing to the katana in the center of the arrangement. I gave her some background information on it and the other swords, and she seemed very impressed by them. Sara would, of course, appreciate weapons.

We moved on to the bookshelves that lined the wall of the library, the first room on the right. Sara scanned titles, announcing some that captured her attention and commenting on some of the authors she noticed that she wasn't particularly fond of. I was surprised when she withdrew a volume of poetry and started scanning it. It was my favorite book in the library. She must have been drawn to it as I had been.

"These are wonderful," she said. "The author has true talent in imagery. I can practically see the scenes unfolding in front of me."

"That is a very rare book that you hold, Sara. There were very few of those printed to begin with, and unfortunately nearly all of the other copies were destroyed in various disasters, such as the Nazi book burnings. You hold one of the only two remaining copies in the world."

She stared back down at the book, tracing the gilt lettering with a finger. Apparently she wanted to read through a few more of the selections, but she gently replaced it on the shelf with a heartbreaking look. "I don't want to damage it," she said sadly. We left the library and were about to continue the tour when my cell phone rang abruptly. Sara looked at me terror-stricken, which was alarming in the fact that it was so unlike her. I tried to give her a reassuring look and answered the phone.

"Ian?" It was Irons.

"Yes."

"I was passing your room when I noticed that you weren't in it. Where are you? What are you doing?"

"I was about to retire for the evening when I realized that there was an important errand I had neglected earlier and I had to go and complete it. I am currently on my way to begin my surveillance on Sara."

"Oh, Ian, that's all right, you don't have to do that tonight," Irons said too quickly.

"No, I will do my duty. Ah, here is Sara now, entering her apartment. She must have had a late night tonight at the station. I will continue my watch, and I apologize for my lack of concentration in performing my tasks. Goodbye," I said, hanging up my cell.

"What was that about?" Sara asked somewhat nervously.

"Irons is now worrying about his arrangements for your disposal. He believes that you are alive and well at your apartment, because at this time he has no reason to doubt me. I suppose that his operatives will have to speak to defend themselves in this specific case," I said with a slight smile. Sara was relived.

"So will that keep him out of our hair for a while?"

"I suppose it will for a while. But it may be a bit more difficult to deal with Irons when he finds out that I've been lying to him," I said. She nodded.

"Will he expect you home any time soon?"

"I doubt it. I often stay out late watching over you, Sara. Now, we need to get you settled in."