Ian was taking the newest addition to the Irons mansion for a breath of fresh air. Although father had preferred wolfhounds for companions, Ian felt rottweilers made better guard dogs. Just as loyal as the wolfhounds, but were more protective, more lethal. He had thought long and hard on a name for the new addition. Brando seemed to have a nice ring to it. It sounded strong, powerful, just like the dog.
He knew Sara would step out of Rykers Correctional Facility within minutes, then he could warn her about what to expect with her new case. He knew she would get nowhere with the inmate she was trying to get insight from. Robert Lawrence Atkins was serving a sentence of twenty-five years for committing crimes similar to the one Sara's vigilante had stopped the night before. That didn't mean he would be much help.
A short time later, Ian saw Sara step out of the prison. As she was making her way to her car, she glanced around, as if she could…feel, sense a presence about her. Ian had warned her, and she had witnessed numerous times herself, that there were other forces not of this world looming about.
Ian made his way over to her, the rottweiler beside him. "Oh!" Sara exclaimed as she turned around to face the pair. Apparently she was on edge after all. Brando barked in response. The question was, had Sara been startled by Ian and his dog, or by the fact that she knew there was an unknown presence about her?
"Hello, Sara," Ian greeted her.
"Damn it, Nottingham." Sara looked to the dog for a moment, assuring herself he was indeed harmless and well under Ian's control.
"How goes the battle against the bad guys? Good versus evil, love versus hate?"
He gazed at her for a moment before adding, "It breaks my heart, the ugliness you see." He meant it, too. It also broke his heart all she had to endure, being the destined wielder of the Witchblade.
Sara raised her hand up partially for emphasis. "My glass is half full."
"Evil is never begin," Ian stated, although he knew that Sara already knew that. He just wanted to remind her of the fact.
"I guess that's why they call it evil." Sara almost chuckled at her own remark.
Ian almost let out a slight chuckle, as well, before explaining, "In some, evil is innate – they're born bad."
Sara decided to ask Ian what he knew of her new case. "What can you tell me--"
"In others…" Ian continued, cutting her off in mid sentence as if she had not spoken at all. She rolled her eyes at his interruption. It didn't matter, so long as she listened. Ian was about to answer her question for her anyway, in his way. "Evil is planted, cultivated, and reaped. Sara, seek out the purveyors of hatred, for they bare the foulest fruit."
Ian was referring to Lupo, seeming creator of white supremacy groups across the world as well as the centuries. Sara would later discover that Lupo thrived on hate. He fed off it like a delicacy. It was the one thing that, for the most part, had kept Lupo alive for so long.
Sara looked to Ian. "You done? Cause I do have better things to do than stand around and listen to you and your little cryptic messages."
This time, Ian did chuckle at Sara's candidness. "I am merely trying to shed a little insight onto your rather mysterious case, as I always do." He turned to leave with the dog, adding over his shoulder, "Whether you take heed to my warnings or not is entirely up to you."
END