Confrontation

"Ok," Jake said, flipping shut his cell phone. "It's set."

"So," Sara asked. "What's the call."

"Well," Jake sighed. "There are going to be two agents coming to protect Joe and his wife until three, when the grandkids are supposed to be picked up. At that point the agents are gonna consult the whole family on the risks and they'll make a game plan."

"Great," Danny said, "We've got Joe covered, what about Charlene?"

"You and Jake can go, pick her up, drop her off at the safe house, right?"

"Ahh, sure," Danny said. "What are you going to do?"

"I need to find Gabriel," Sara said.

"Maybe you should stay here, Sara," Jake suggested. "Call someone else in on the Baxter case. No one's gonna think any less of you for not wanting to pick up one of your best friends."

"You don't understand," Sara said forcefully. "He didn't do this. This is a frame up, or something."

"Sara, take a step back. Look at the evidence," Jake said, trying to be the voice of reason.

"I've seen the evidence Jake," Sara snapped. "I know where it points and I'm not going down that rode. Honestly, do you believe that Gabriel could murder a girl in cold blood like that? If nothing else he's too smart to leave the body in the dumpster."

"Sara, people panic," Jake started, but he didn't get to finish.

"I can't believe that of him, and I'm not going to leave him to the wolves who could."

"Then leave him to us," Danny said, cutting through the conversation, stopping Sara and Jake's respective arguments in their tracks. "Sara, you can't see this clearly, you know that. I'm not saying that Gabriel committed a murder but he at least needs to be questioned. And the way your acting about this . . . I don't know, it just seems that if you want to be wise, you'll do all you can to avoid him."

Sara froze. She was wise, wise enough to know that when two people as dramatically different as Danny Woo and Ian Nottingham coined almost the exact same phrase that cosmic forces were talking to her. After a second of hesitation, Sara opened her mouth to answer, but before she got a word out a cell phone rang. She, Danny and Jake all pulled their phones out of their pockets, "It's me," Sara said, "the station."

As she pushed the green button and lifted the phone to her ear, Jake stepped forward and said, "Don't tell them where we are Sara."

"Yeah, yeah," Sara said, shoeing the FBI agent away, "Pezzini."

"Gra mo chroi," the rich voice of Conchobar said, drawing a smile to her lips despite everything that had happened so far that day.

"Hey Baby," Sara cooed. "What's up?"

"Some'in came for you," he said. She hadn't noticed it when he was speaking Gaelic, but his voice sounded worried.

"Yeah? What?"

"Its, ah, from Gabriel. The secretary came in, said she found it slipped between the desk an' the garbage pail. I' says urgent, Sara."

"From Gabriel?" Sara said talking very quietly and turning away from Danny and Jake. She didn't want them to know she was talking about Gabriel, they'd probably steel the phone away from her. "What does it say?"

"Sara, i's your mail."

"We're married, legally it's half yours. Open it and tell me what it says."

There was a pause as Sara heard the crumpling of paper as Conchobar ripped through the envelope and she listened to his measured breath as he read the letter. When she couldn't wait any longer she demanded, "Well?"

"Ah, Sara," his voice sounded tense. "I's a confession."

"A confession?"

"Ah, yeah."

"Well, what is he confessing?"

"Um, ah," he said very quietly. It accrued to Sara that Maddie was probably still in the same room with him and he was trying to save the girls feelings. Sara managed to adore her wonderful husband for a heartbeat and then she started worrying about what kind of confession would call for such compassionate discretion. "Murder, Sara. Says here he murdered a girl named Dianna Baxter."

And Sara saw it. The Witchblade seized her and she was suddenly in the ally behind The Wet Monkey. She saw Dianna Baxter laughing and kissing someone who looked for all the world like Gabriel. She saw the man wrap his hands, hands with long fingers good for typing, around the girl's neck. She heard a voice that she would have sworn was Gabriel's if it hadn't been so cold and heartless, Do you know what exsanguination is? Baxter moaned, Yes, yes, do it to me. Sara tried to look away, disgusted, but the Witchblade kept her attention on the two young people. Then the voice that was so much like Gabriel's asked, How about Pnigophobia? Dianna, clearly not knowing what Pnigophobia was continued to moan, Do it, do it! Sara tried to scream, tried to stop it, but she was only a watcher, she couldn't change what had already happened. And then, when it was over the man turned around and Sara gasped. The murderer didn't just resemble Gabriel, he was a mirror image. The only difference was ice blue eyes that Sara recognized all too well.

"Sara," Conchobar's voice cut through her fugue state and drew her back to what had to be done. "Wha' are you planin' to do?"

"Save him," Sara said simply. "I'll call you back Baby, thanks."

Without another word from Conchobar, Sara flipped shut her phone and turned to Danny and Jake. "I gotta go."

"Is everything all right?" Danny asked.

"No," Sara said as she exited the Siri apartment and bounded down the stairs. "I'll meet you guys later."

"Sara," Danny yelled after her from the top of the stairwell, "Wait."

She didn't wait and she didn't even turn to answer.

* * *

Ian Nottingham watched with great interest. He believed he knew his master's plans and he despised them. Still he was bound to them, the way a slave in the ancient world would be nailed to his master's door. It was horrible agony, yet to struggle would cause greater injury. He thought about his many conversations with Sara during the time his master was more meta than physical. He had told her that she had freed him, and in truth she had. There were no more belittling remakes made with the express purpose of hurting him, there were no more orders without explanation, there were no more looks of disappointment and disgust. Ian had longed for his father's return, but at the same time had dreaded it. And now that Irons returned, Ian couldn't help but long for his absence again. That was a horrible thing to desire, Ian knew that, so as he watched Sara approach Gabriel Bowman's residence and contemplated the confrontation that was about to accrue, Ian wished with all his heart that Sara would be successful in her exorcism. If he could not be his own man, he could at least be his father's only son.

* * *

"Sara!" Conchobar yelled into the phone. "Sara!"

The only answer was a dead line.

"Damn," he said softly.

"He confessed to murder?" Maddie said from the other side of the desk.

"Sorry," Conchobar said as he gently hung up the phone. "Din' mean for ya ta hear tha'."

"I have very good hearing," she said simply. "What is she going to do?"

Conchobar hesitated for a moment and then saw clearly exactly what she was going to do, and his blood ran cold. "Wha' color are Gabriel's eyes?"

"I don't understand what that has to do with anything," she was starting to cry again.

"Trust me, i's important. What color are his eyes?"

"Brown," she said, her voice was beginning to sound choked as fought back tears. "Like milk chocolate."

"He don' wear contacts or anythin' does he? Or, periodically, have blue eyes, by chance?"

"No," she said, opting to be annoyed at Conchobar instead of beside herself with despair. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Sara's in trouble. There's somthin' wrong with your boyfriend."

"Yeah," Maddie spat out. "He's a murderer."

"More 'n that. We gotta go stop Sara."

"I'm confused."

"I think the blue eyed bastard's gonna try 'n kill 'er. An' I think Gabriel knows."

"That doesn't help me any."

Conchobar didn't have time to explain what he had just figured out, mostly because he didn't understand what he'd just figured out. And he didn't even feel he had time to explain to the girl why he couldn't explain anything. He grabbed her arm and pulled her off the chair.

"We've gotta find your Gabriel 'for my wife does."

* * *

"Gabriel," Sara said, pounding on the heavy steel door. "Let me in!"

"It's open Sara," A soft voice said behind her.

Sara pivoted and saw Nottingham only a few inches behind her. "God!" She gasped. "What are you doing here?!"

"I don't think," Ian said slowly. "That God is here at all."

Sara sighed, "What are you doing here Nottingham."

Ian looked hurt, as if her question was unreasonable and mean spirited. "I'm protecting you Sara."

Sara actually managed to laugh, "Form Gabriel?"

"Unless I am mistaken the man in there intends to kill you."

"The man in there? Are you saying this is a trap."

"Of course it is Sara," Ian asked, a little baffled. "Couldn't you tell?"

"So," Sara said, feeling more confident than she had ten seconds ago, "They framed Gabriel to lead me here."

"Essentially, yes. But then again, fundamentally no."

Sara was not about to ask Ian what he meant by that. "So is he a hostage?"

"Again Sara the answer is essentially yes, fundamentally no."

"Ok," Sara asked, she never had much patience for Nottinghams riddles but this was truly the wrong time. "Ian, please, cut the crap. I need to know, is he alive?"

"In almost all meanings of the word."

"I'll take that as a Yes," Sara said firmly, as if her tone of voice could convince her one way or the other. "So all I have to do is save him, right? No problem, I've done that before."

"Sara," Nottingham said, his voice sounded worried. "You do not know your opponent. You have no strategy for your battle. You acknowledge that this is a trap and yet you walk into it."

"With my eyes open," Sara said. "Besides, you got my back."

Ian bowed his head. "This is one battle, Sara, where I am unable to choose sides. I truly wish you victory, but aid you I can not."

"But you told me . . ." Sara started.

"I told you the door was open," Nottingham said before stepping back and folding himself into the shadows. Sara let the shivers fly up her spine and then, with a deep breath, turned back to the door and, for a second, contemplated what would be behind it. She didn't know. But she wasn't going to go in unarmed. With barley a thought the Witchblade activated and wrapped itself around her hand. She threw open the door, ready for an assault of gunfire and was startled to find nothing.

Gabriel's show room looked empty. Everything, from slime to the sublime was neatly shelved, as always, and with the possible exception of needing a good dusting, everything was as it should be.

"Gabriel?" Sara called into the stillness. "Hello?"

"Ah, Sara," the boys voice said slowly from the back room where his computers lived. "I was wondering when you would arrive. I knew it would only be a matter of time."

The little hairs on the back of Sara's neck stood on end as she very slowly, very carefully, walked towards the voice. It was Gabriel's voice, she knew that, but it didn't sound like him at all. This voice was cold and hard.

"So," Sara said, trying to sound conversational. "You killed Dianna Baxter."

"Yes, Sara, I did."

She'd reached the edge of the display room and was standing causally in the doorway looking in on him as he stared back at her in a self-satisfied way that made her want to draw her gun. His retro-1970's shirt was tucked in, every button buttoned. He was wearing sunglasses, presumably to hide the black eye Sara could see creeping out around the sides of the shades. The split lip, on the other hand, was harder to mask. Sara decided not to ask.

"I warped my hands around her neck," Gabriel continued, his voice dripped malice and venom. "And as she moaned in ecstasy I watched what light there was behind her horrified eyes dim and then vanish."

"Moaned in ecstasy?" Sara asked. "Pretty sure of yourself aren't you?"

Gabriel seemed somewhat disappointed that Sara was not taking this more seriously.

"I know what I heard," the boy said, not quite able to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"You realize that she's been a hooker since she was fourteen. I imagine she's figured out how to moan just right by now."

Gabriel changed the subject.

"You don't seem very surprised Sara, by my confession."

"I'm not. We've got you flirting with her on the club's surveillance tape. We've got your written confession. Hell, we've got your DNA. We know you did it Gabriel. I want to know why."

"Why, Sara? Isn't the answer obvious?"

"To get me here?"

"More or less."

"I would have come no matter what. I'm your friend."

"I suppose that's true," Gabriel mused. "In which case I killed her because I wanted to."

Sara nodded. "Makes sense."

"Detective, you surprise me. You have just heard one of your dearest friends confess to committing a most heinous murder, are you not moved?"

Sara laughed softly and leaned against the doorframe. "You know, this whole murder thing, you hurt a lot of people."

"Please, I do not wished to be bored by trivial stories about a mother's tears."

"Actually, I didn't get the feeling that Mr. and Mrs. Baxter were that torn up. I was thinking about Maddie."

"Maddie?" Gabriel sounded confused. Sara felt herself smile just a tad, her suspicion's were confirmed and her fears and doubts had been relieved. Whoever this person was, it wasn't Gabriel.

"Yeah," she said. "She's down a the station crying her eyes out on Conchobar's shoulders."

"Ah, Conchobar," the boy said. "Your lover."

"My husband."

"And just how long do you think that will last, Sara? Do you think he'll understand the Witchblade. Do you think he'll still love you as soon as he learns what you really are?"
"He knows who I really am," Sara said calmly. "You on the other hand . . ."

"I know you perfectly Sara," there was a pause and then chuckle that was subtle and evil and sounded nothing like Gabriel. "I am your best friend."

"Danny's my best friend," Sara said calmly. "You were someone I thought I needed, someone useful, someone I can replace." That was a lie if she'd ever told one. There had been a time, a very very short time, when she had solely thought of Gabriel as useful. There has been a period where, had he disappeared it would have been an inconvenience, but she was fairly sure someone else would be able to tell her the things she needed to know. But those feelings had changed a long time ago. Now she felt like Gabriel was part of the Witchblade, an essential add-on, like gas in a car. She knew she couldn't get very far without him. Still, to test the man in front of her, and to try and convince herself that she could, if she had to, attack him, she lied. "I don't need you anymore. I can find someone less psychotic do to my homework."

"Very pragmatic, Sara. I always thought you'd be more sentimental than that."

"I guess you don't know me perfectly," Sara said with a slim smile.

At that moment the door swung open again. Both Sara and Gabriel turned in surprise to see Conchobar, with Maddie behind him. "Teann a-null!2" Conchobar shouted at Gabriel. Sara turned her head, wondering why he had come in yelling Gaelic.

"Ah," Gabriel laughed, if he'd understood a word of what Conchobar had said he didn't let it show. "So the Calvary has come. The noble Conchobar who fate allowed a second chance and a mysterious young girl who's role is insignificant at best. Are these the saviors you were waiting for Sara? Your backup? You would have done better to bring your police friends, Woo and McCarty, inept thought they may be."

"An bhfuil tu Gabriel?3" Conchobar demanded, not letting Sara push him out of the way.

"If you expect an answer, Bard, speak a language I know," the boy said, spitefully.

"Pog mo thoin4," Conchobar spit. Then turning to his wife said, "Tha's no' your friend, Sara. If 'e was 'e would'a said so. I's somethin' else."

Maddie, as if Sara and Conchobar were only having a lover's quarrel, approached Gabriel fearlessly. "Pyubvnik5, what's going on? Are you ok?"

Gabriel turned his head and looked at Medea curiously. "And what are you, pray tell? An innocent, perhaps, a pawn? Meat for the beast?"

"Gabriel," she said, her voice was shaking. "What are you saying?"

That's when Sara noticed the girl's approach. "Maddie, get away from him, he's not . . ."

But it was too late. Gabriel jumped out of his chair and pounced on the girl before Sara could move to stop him. Before Maddie could react her arm was twisted painfully behind her and a very ornate knife was pressed against her throat as Gabriel used her as a human shield, insurance in case Sara wanted to try her luck with a gun.

"Gabriel," Maddie whimpered, struggling as much as she could without breaking her arm or slicing her own throat.

"Irons," Sara said softly. As the boy had grabbed Maddie she'd managed to nock his sunglasses off, reveling cold blue eyes. And more than that, his right hand, which was pressing the knife against Maddies neck, had an unmistakable scare of two overlapping circles. "What have you done to him?"

"Very good Sara," Irons said with Gabriel's voice. "It's about time you realized."
"What have you done to him?!" Sara demanded again.

"Are you concerned about your acquiescent friend? You should be more concerned about yourself Sara. After all, I would have no desire to lose such a useful tool. You, however, have grown very tiresome."

"Let her go and we'll talk."

"About what, pray tell? Compromise is not an option for either of us. But you know that."

"What do you want?"

"You know what I want."

"The Witchblade?"

"Yes, the Witchblade, on the wrist of someone who I can control. Are you willing to give that to me Sara, in exchange for Gabriel's freedom?"

Sara licked her lips. "I don't trust you."

"How about in exchange for this girls life?" With the smallest flick of his wrist Gabriel's hands tilted the knife and nicked Maddie's chin, drawing blood. The girl screamed and then quickly reverted to sobs as blood trickled down her neck and stained her dress.

"Irons don't!" Sara said, putting her hands up where he could see them. The Witchblade was still drawn, but had reverted to it's most benign form, a simple web across her hand, no one knew it was active but her.

"Do you like this knife, Sara?" Gabriel's twisted voice went on. "I took the time to find it this afternoon, after your husband came in with the wedding present Ian sent you."

Sara glanced at Conchobar, who was standing slightly in front of her and to her right. He looked just as horrified as she felt, and just a little guilty. He had, after all, taken Maddie out of the safety of the station and brought her here.

"Do you know the story of that blade, Sara?"

"Yeah," Sara said, her mouth was very dry and she thought she could hear uncertainty in her voice. "It belonged to some Irish Queen named Cathain."

"Cathain was not just 'some Irish queen' as you so crudely put it. She was a true wielder, Sara, she wore the Witchblade and with it won many a battle."

"Good for her," Sara said. "I don't see what that has to do with our present situation."

"That is because you are blind," Gabriel's voice spat. "I was inspired by Ian's generosity and have decided my wedding give to you will be this knife. It was given to Joan of Arch by the Daulphain himself, legend has it that she wore it in every battle, and yet never drew it out of the scabbard. This young girl's blood could very well be the first shed by this blade. "

"Lucky Maddie," Sara quipped.

"If you come and get it, I will let her go."

"Sara," Conchobar said softly, although they were all very close and Irons could most likely hear, "He's gonna stab you."

"He's got a knife, I've got a gun," Sara said between clenched teeth. "I think I'll win." Louder she said, "Alright, let her go."

"You will accept the knife in the spirit with which it is given?"

"I can take whatever you give me, Irons. Let her go."

Gabriel's mouth twitched into a smile momentarily and then with one smooth move he threw Maddie away from him with enough force to send her colliding with a wall. She crumpled onto the floor and didn't move to get up. She was alive though, the muffled sounds of sobs were the only sounds in the room.

Sara, with her arms, still held up as if to surrender, took a step closer to her best friend who was, at the moment, also her worst enemy. "Alright Irons," she challenged. "You think you can take me, come on."

"Sara," Conchobar hissed. He was ignored.

"You will not harm your beloved Gabriel."

"I know Gabriel pretty well," Sara said with conviction. "He'd rather be dead than have you running around in his body killing people."

"Be that as it may, you could not be the one to administer such mercy's."

Sara smiled a hard, determined smile. "Try me," she said, hoping that he wouldn't notice the way her voice faltered, and the edges of her lips trembled, and her eyes were blinking furiously.

Several things seemed to happen at once and even Sara, who usually was gifted with uncanny perception, could only make an educated guess about the actual sequence of events.

Gabriel's body charged Sara with what seemed like supernatural speed, Joan of Arch's blade was pointing directly to her heart. It's possible that Conchobar tried to step in the way, be stabbed instead of Sara, and then she pushed him aside with such force that he fell onto the ground because, in any event, he was on the floor yelling "Sara!" Gabriel's warped voice was also yelling "Sara!" Without consciously realizing it or even subconsciously willing it, the Witchblade on Sara's wrist sprung into action and then there was a horrible scream. Horrible because it was two distinct voices screaming out of one throat and then the scream stopped suddenly, as if all the air to carry the sound waves had vanished. And then the only sound was the clatter of a legendary knife ringing as it hit the floor.

Translations;

Love of my heart

2 get away from her

3 are you Gabriel?

4 kiss my ass

5 Lover (in bulgarian)

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

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