Chapter Seven

Strategy

Rings were vastly overrated things.

Of all the creatures that had ever existed throughout the ages of the earth, no one knew this better than David Saeran.  Rings were trinkets that captured the eye because their beauty was borne of precious metal and by their perceived symbolism.  Bonds were established by the exchange of rings. Titles were given and prosperity marked by the encrustation of jewels upon a simple band of gold or silver to be worn upon that most tactile of limbs, the fingers. There was a time when so much of himself was placed into a ring, a receptacle he had forged foolishly to hold the best of him.  The ring had been his crowning achievement, the final piece of an elaborate trap he had built to impose his will upon others.  Into this band of gold, he had poured every ounce of his strength, to build a conduit to all the other rings of power so that he could bend its wearers to his will.

Even now, David Saeran, who was once known as Sauron, Lord of Mordor, wondered how he could have been so stupid.

The memories that followed the destruction of the ring, known to so many, as the Master Ring or the One Ring and finally to Saeran's own amusement, Isildur's Bane, were vague. There was the agony of fire and the abysmal sensation of being thrown into emptiness so cold that it could none other than the Void.  There, his memories had dimmed excepting for the terrible knowledge that there could be no way back.  His power was lesser than his former master who was able to stay cognizant during the eternity of incarceration on the fringes of all.  It was a terrible thing, Melkor had said when they were able to speak again, to find oneself trapped on the edge of all things, to look at its center and see the universe with its billions of stars and to know with utter despair that it was beyond reach.

Saeran supposed that he was fortunate that his memory was less than that of his master's when he was reborn in the world. He was spared the horror of his imprisonment and when he was resurrected, the spell that brought him to life ensured he would do so at almost full strength of his former glory.  Power had returned to him. While it was not entirely in the fullness that he had known in better days before the destruction of ring, much was restored to his new form. It was invigorating and Saeran had remembered being astonished at the realization of how greatly he had diminished himself by pouring all his power into the confining vassal of a ring.

When he opened his eyes and saw the light of night sky for the first time in a hundred thousand years, David Saeran, once called Sauron the dark master of Mordor, swore that he would never again endanger his very existence because of a ring.

Malcolm had returned Saeran to the earth a hundred years after his own resurrection. Together they conspired to create a new kingdom, one that would be invincible, one that would be embraced by man until the very end of their existence.  This plan was all the more sweet because all that could have opposed this conspiracy of destruction were no more.    For Saeran, it was difficult to serve after being a lord himself but Saeran knew the value of patience and bid his time well.  His master was not much of a strategist. Even in the days of Middle-earth, it had been Sauron who orchestrated many of Melkor's campaigns against the sons of Feanor.

It was Saeran who first advised Malcolm that it was prudent to deal with Olorin who had wandered the earth for four hundred years. Despite Malcolm having erased from his mind all memories of his former self, Saeran thought that they ought to contain the Maia instead of allowing him to wander about freely. Unfortunately, Malcolm had been superstitious about keeping Olorin close to his person, fearful that the Valar may be able to find their servant even after what Malcolm had done to him.  Thus, Olorin was left to become lost in the wilderness of time, until even Malcolm no longer knew where he was.  Olorin's fate concerned Saeran greatly because Fate and Iluvutar had blessed Olorin with a remarkable resilience and it was only a matter of time before things would come to a head.

Which was precisely what transpired the year that Saeran found himself free of John Malcolm.

He had been too busy putting in place the pawns for his great plan in Europe to pay close attention to what his master was doing in New York. He knew that Olorin had surfaced again and efforts were made to retrieve the Istar.  It appeared that for once Malcolm was heeding his advice by dealing with the Maia once and for all. Unfortunately, by the time, Saeran became aware that there were elves involved; it was far too late to salvage anything from the disaster that ensued.

The moment he realized that the Eldar had returned to the world of men, it was not a tremendous deduction in logic to know that the Valar would not be far behind. Taking the appropriate measures to safeguard himself, since Olorin had no idea that he was in the world, Saeran had gone to ground, ensuring that he was nowhere in their sights when the Valar came for his master. Across the world, he had heard the themes of the Great Music singing in harmony for the first time in aeons. It had shaken the walls of his sanctuary and for a time, he had been afraid. Saeran may not remember the Void but he certainly did not wish to return to it.

However when the Great Music had ended leaving only silence in its wake, Saeran sensed that Malcolm and by extension Melkor no longer existed in any manifestation, even in the Void. 

He was simply gone.

Following John Malcolm's demise, Saeran sensed not only the absence of his master but also Olorin himself.  Using his contacts in the FBI, CIA and MI6 respectively, Saeran pieced together what had brought about Malcolm's downfall. Saeran was content to let the rest of the world believe the destruction of Monolith was the cause of another terrorist bombing.  It was not long before Doctor Aaron Stone's name was mentioned in the investigation and Saeran learnt Olorin's rescuer was a New York psychiatrist, a psychiatrist who bore a striking resemblance to a nemesis as hated as the Valar.

Isildur's heir was responsible for his master's destruction and Saeran moved quickly to contain him, ensuring that every law enforcement agency in the world knew that he was implicated in the destruction.  Information was made readily available to investigative teams, particularly the security tapes recovered from the ruins of the Malcolm Building which revealed clearly, Doctor Stone making a rather spectacular entry into the building's front lobby in a T-Bird laden with explosives.

Still, Saeran was not at all surprised when Olorin and Aaron Stone vanished from sight. Their disappearance convinced the former dark lord that the enemy had returned to Valinor. However, Saeran was unprepared to risk his carefully cultivated scheme and thus accelerated his plans to ensure that even if Olorin and Isildur's heir were return to the shores of men, it would be too late.

In the year since assuming control of Malcolm Industries, Saeran had been busy. Even before Malcolm's demise, Saeran had been setting his plans in motion, beneath the notice of his master. Telling Malcolm would only complicate things and Saeran was confident that Malcolm would not be displeased with the end result of his labors. To Malcolm, the Black Serpent group was little more than an agency of chaos utilized to spread discord throughout the globe. He knew nothing about the rings Saeran had forged, the rings which Saeran had wisely placed only the smallest fraction of power because it was all that was needed to sway the hearts of men. The targets had been chosen carefully. Each man came from a strong military background and was capable of gaining assess to a nuclear silo in each of the superpowers arsenal and each man if properly motivated, was capable of initiating a launch.

Oh they would die doing it, but to Saeran they had always been expendable.

It was an easy matter to introduce the rings into their lives. Saeran had bought and paid for both Xiang Li's mistress and Walter Green's new fiancée, Elizabeth. There had been no need to use Andrei Nikolaevich's wife because the package that the Russian received from her had been tampered by a well-paid military mail courier who saw nothing threatening about slipping a ring into the box of biscuits. The moment the rings were slipped upon their fingers, they began to hear whispers in the dark.  Whispers reminded them of better days either in the past or a glorious future yet to be, that could come to pass if only they dared to seize power.   The rings would tell them how.

In the midst of all his schemes, something wholly unexpected had developed.

When she was born six years ago, Saeran had felt in on the other side of the globe.  Malcolm had told him he was being foolish to be disturbed by a child born with the soul of his old nemesis. What threat could a child be to him? Saeran could not tell exactly where the child carrying the spirit of Frodo Baggins was but he knew the exact day she was born, down to the very hour. He enlisted the aid of the Nine whom he had resurrected from their prison in shadows. It was his power that allowed them to bridge the gulf between the shadow and the real world.  Without him, they were trapped within formless bodies, incapable of anything but existing in the limbo where they could walk in the world but possessed no power to affect it.

With his return to the world, the Nine had been given shape and form, their powers were restored and while Malcolm had thought little of them, he did employ the Nazgul on occasion to deal with his enemies. However, in body and soul, they belonged to Saeran first.  He set to them the task of finding the Ringbearer and to this end they were relentless. During their pursuit, they sought the child in every corner of the world.  Meanwhile, despite her exact whereabouts remaining elusive to him, Saeran found that he could whisper in the child's dreams. They had both been masters to the One Ring and the connection between them could not be severed by death. 

When he spoke, Saeran knew she could hear him.

As Saeran had expected, Olorin returned to the world of men and his arrival ensured that Isildur's heir would also be present. At the instant the Ringbearer was to come into his possession, an unlikely protector had stepped onto the stage and rescued the child from beneath the reach of his Nazgul. When Saeran discovered the identity of this unexpected meddler in his affairs, he was almost inclined to laugh at the comic irony of it. It appeared that the child and her protector were not strangers.

When Richard Caldwell had first told him about Bryan Miller's belief that he was connected to the terrorist group Black Serpent, Saeran had studied the file provided by Caldwell in order to know this new threat. The moment he had laid his eyes upon Bryan Miller, Saeran knew immediately that he was facing Denethor's oldest son.  Boromir of Gondor was someone Saeran could have used if the One Ring had ever come into the man's possession.    However, Boromir's part in the War of the Ring was brief and his death served to do nothing but clear the way for Isildur's heir to take the throne of Gondor.

Why Boromir of Gondor chose this moment to emerge in Bryan Miller was unknown to Saeran, however, it appeared that he and the child had found their way into the company of Olorin and Isildur's heir, along with elves, and if the agony suffered by his wraiths were any indication. Certainly the arrows extracted from their shadowy bodies could be mistaken for none other.  The markings were different, a hundred thousand years had some effect upon the artistry of the Eldar but there was no doubt that they could be anything but elven.

It was almost a new fellowship, he thought ruefully.

Instead of wasting time in some fruitless effort to acquire them, Saeran chose to continue with his plans, which were, but a week away from reaching its conclusion. Eight days from now, the world was going to be faced with an entirely new way of existence. Saeran had spent the last one hundred years preparing for it and now on the eve of its birth, he was going home to the place he had spent almost as long as his existence on earth trying to find.   This time, it would not be quite so easy to destroy him.  There was no ring to sneak past his defenses to vanquish in any mountain of fire, there would be no great armies sweeping across the land. When the end came, it would be quick and decisive.

And the age of his reign would begin.

************

They had driven south, past London to a rather large estate owned by one of Tory's clients in Westernham. It was almost dawn when they arrived at the sprawling residence surrounded by manicured gardens, fountains and a duck pond enclosed by a set of steel gates.  Tory had acquired the keys to the man's house shortly after his incarceration. As his barrister, she was his only conduit to the outside world and his home. The government had seized the house since its owner was charged with tax fraud of almost twenty million pounds. However, until a verdict decided their fate in court, all assets relating to the crime were frozen.

The large house was deserted when they arrived as the household staff had been dismissed in light of the situation.  Fortunately, gas and electricity was still connected because the only person with the authority to change this state of affairs was behind bars.   Tory did not have any concerns about using the place for a time because she knew for a fact that it would be a good while before her client saw the inside of a courtroom.  At the moment, it was as good a place as any to regroup since the Nazgul and other agents of David Saeran had invaded her home.  More than anyone, Tory needed to come to grips with the fact that she was now a fugitive like Aaron and his companions.

After entering the house through the impressive marble foyer, the unexpected guests soon discovered the vastness of the place and it was generally agreed that it was wise not to disturb too many of the rooms and to remain close together in case of any sudden danger. Considering how they had just fled with their lives, it seemed prudent that everyone remained in close proximity to each other.  The living room where Ronald Banks, Tory's absent client, entertained his guest was almost as big as the lower floor of Tory's house. In a short time, the sun would begin to creep up on the twilight and everyone was exhausted. Fred had dropped off to sleep sometime during the journey and the first order of business was to put the child to sleep on one of the comfortable divans scattered about the room.

A small encampment was made in the room as Eve and Tory found blankets and pillows so that they could get some much-needed sleep.  Meanwhile Legolas and Haldir took a tour around the house to ensure that they were completely alone and that no one had observed their arrival. While Tory was certain that the mansion was vacated, it made sense to be absolutely certain that their arrival here had gone unnoticed. They needed a few hours to rest and to decide how they were going to deal with the threat that Saeran had imposed upon the world. The flight they had been undertaking in one form or another could not continue and Gandalf had declared that time was becoming short.  No doubt this perception had followed in the wake of their confrontation with the Nazgul.

"It appears one must be swollen with riches to afford a home like this," Legolas commented as they walked through the marble hallways, with its paintings of gold gilt frames and ornate furniture.

"Acquired dishonestly I understand," Haldir remarked as he paused to admire a Ming vase decorating a corner table. "The lady Tory has spoken that the master of this house is a criminal of some kind. I wonder why she chooses to associate with someone of such questionable character, particularly when she appears to be a woman of great conviction."

"Eve explained this to me," Legolas replied as they reached a set of French doors that emptied into outside grounds. "They do not decide who is innocent or guilty until the matter has been heard in a council of law. Tory is his representative when they go before this council. Each man has the right to speak for himself or have someone speak for him in such instances. It is in its way, an attempt at a just approach though I understand that there are flaws, since they do not believe in taking life as a means of punishment."

"Yet there is so much death," Haldir commented as both men stepped out into the gardens and immediately found the fresh breath of night air rather invigorating after the toxic scent of the city.  "One only needs to look upon Boromir's reincarnation to see that he reeks of it."

"They have lost their way a little without us," Legolas frowned unhappily as he looked up into the stars and was happy to see that though the constellations seemed to have drifted farther apart, essentially they remained the same. "I often question whether it was entirely wise for us to remain sequestered away in Valinor for all eternity."


"Would you like to soil our people by returning here?" Haldir stared at him. "They have brutalized this world beyond reason in our absence."

"I would not be so harsh," Legolas, countered, unwilling to say that everything that men had done in this world was terrible. Amongst the rampaging urbanization, there was evidence of great accomplishments as well as great courage. "They have changed it yes, but no more than is deserved. We left the world to them after all."

"I think we should continue to leave it to them," Haldir declared unconvinced. "This is no longer the place for us."

"Perhaps not," the prince said softly. "But I fear if we remain cloistered for too long, we will grow stagnant. We have been unchanged for almost a hundred thousand years.  I wonder if that it entirely a good thing."

"You worry too much about things that should not concern you," Haldir pointed out. "Your difficulty is being unable to appreciate what you have. You always look to the future, look to more.  You are never satisfied with what is."

"And you are too complacent," Legolas returned promptly, showing that he was able to give as well as he received. "We have known each other for aeons and I still do not fathom how you think." As he concluded his statement, he concluded the area was devoid of anyone and prepared to return to the others.

"I am perfectly aware of how you think," Haldir returned swiftly following his lead. "If it were not for your wife and myself of course, you would collapse under the weight of your own self importance."

"Self importance?" Legolas looked at the elf in astonishment before noting that Haldir was smiling a little. "Surely you must jest. You are the most arrogant elf I know. If there was a monument built to it, your image would be set in stone."

"That is true," Haldir chuckled, not at all offended. "But at least I do not hide it."

"You know who you remind me of?" Legolas turned to him and realized at that moment that it was true and how he reacted to Haldir was more or less the same as another friend that was as cherished as Aragorn and Boromir, who would never return because he was neither elf nor man.

"Gimli?" Haldir ventured a guess.

"Yes," Legolas said somewhat surprised that Haldir was able to make such an accurate guess, "how did you know?"

"I saw him once before he died you know," Haldir revealed as their steps slowed a little. "It was during his final days and my lady Galadriel wished to see him before he passed so I accompanied her to your house."

"I remember," Legolas said softly, trying not to feel too much grief at the loss of the friend who had sailed with him to the Undying Lands, who had refused to let him waste away in mourning for those who had died in Middle-earth.  He remembered how Gimli had glowed seeing Galadriel before him, knowing that she had come to see him specifically. She was his unattainable love, whom he admired from the moment he had set eyes upon her in Lothlorien until the day he died.

It was the last spark of fire that Legolas would ever see in his eyes.

"When my lady had taken leave of him," Haldir continued, aware of Legolas' emotions in this regard, "the dwarf had beckoned me close and asked of me a favor."

"A favor?" Legolas exclaimed in surprise, having never heard of this before. "He asked of you a favor?" Legolas was almost stunned into disbelief.  Haldir and Gimli were not exactly great friends and their first meeting in Lothlorien had been less than amicable.

"Yes," Haldir nodded enjoying Legolas' stunned expression somewhat; "he told me that he feared you would grieve him terribly and that you would miss his presence in your life because only he knew how to keep you on your toes."


Legolas let out a short laugh and nodded, unable to deny that, "he did at that. He was the most vexing being I have ever met. Sometimes it was easier to take a bow to him then it was trying to understand his thinking but he was my friend and a more loyal companion could not be found. I miss him sometimes even more then I missed Aragorn."

"I know," Haldir said with surprising sympathy. "He asked me to never allow you take yourself too seriously, to on occasion vex you to no end because he knew that I was so much smarter and more sensible than you, and that I was the only one who could."

 Legolas stared at Haldir; "he asked you that?"

"Yes," Haldir smiled faintly. "I do not know if I have replaced him but I have enjoyed fulfilling his request." The former march warden of Lothlorien smile broadened into a grin of mischief.

Legolas was filled with a great deal of emotion at this revelation but he was not about to show it to Haldir. It would only lessen the impact of what the elf had just told him. It was just like Gimli however, to make such a request of Haldir and he supposed that Haldir did make life interesting, though there were moments when the urge to throttle him was great. But then the urge to throttle Gimli had not been an uncommon desire in Legolas from time to time so to that end, Haldir had succeeded spectacularly in fulfilling the dwarf's request.

"I would not be so confident of that," Legolas snorted and continued walking. "At best you were irritating."

"Its still good enough to penetrate your thick hide," Haldir countered smoothly.

"You dream," Legolas retorted before they returned to the others and resumed their debate as to who should have the remote.

************

"Stay still," Aaron ordered as he examined the wound on Bryan's shoulder.

"You bloody well try and stay still when you've got a bullet hole through your body," Bryan snapped with uncharacteristic annoyance as he was forced to submit himself to the ministration of Aaron Stone's medical skills.

"Hey, you were the one who was saying it was just a flesh wound," Aaron reminded sarcastically, not really paying much attention to Bryan's grumbling because he was too intent of removing the piece of lead that had become lodged in the man's shoulder. While the gunshot wound was not as serious as it could be, Aaron was still determined to deal with the injury as quickly as possible.  He was grateful his medical bag had survived the ordeal it had taken to reach here, especially after their rather dangerous escape from Hillingdon.

"Well it looked like it at the time," Bryan grumbled as he felt the tugging at his flesh that made his stomach lurch. Novocaine was the best that Aaron was able to provide in terms of an anaesthetic. While he felt nothing as the doctor went digging through his flesh with surgical tweezers and other sharp instruments for the bullet, the insistent tugs that generated no pain made him a little uneasy.

"You got a lot of scar tissue on you," Aaron remarked, noticing the numerous scars on Bryan's skin as he worked on removing the bullet.  "Do you get shot a lot?"

"Comes with the territory," Bryan shrugged, supposing that the scars on his body, which were commonplace to him, might be a bit disconcerting to someone else.  "Been in a couple scrapes through the years, nothing too serious."

"I think that's about to change," Aaron said with a sigh. "We're going to get bloody on this one, you know that don't you?"

Bryan nodded grimly, "I know but we can't keep running and hiding. If it is as you say, that the world is about to be destroyed in a nuclear fireball, we have to do something."

"That we must," Gandalf nodded joining the conversation as Tory and Eve put Fred to sleep and was taking care of the sleeping arrangements.  "Unfortunately, we have no idea in what manner Sauron chooses to wreak havoc upon this world."

"How strong is Sauron now?" Aaron asked as he dropped the piece of lead into small metal bowl he had for the purpose.   The sound made Bryan flinch as Aaron immediately staunched the ragged hole left behind in his flesh with a piece of surgical gauze. 

"I am uncertain," Gandalf said honestly. "In his human guise, Melkor was a mere shadow of his strength but once his physical body was extinguished, he was very powerful indeed. I would not have been able to defeat him."

"Sauron is more than just a Maia," Legolas remarked, his hearing having picked up some of the conversation prior to his and Haldir's entry into the room, "he was a sorcerer of great power.  In his human shell, he may be limited but if we should be foolish enough to kill him, we will risk releasing him from his body and I am uncertain whether or not we will be able to stop him any better than stopping Melkor."

"He needs confinement," Gandalf stated. "Confinement in Valinor."

All eyes except Bryan and Tory turned to the wizard in shock. "You want to bring him back to Valinor?" Aaron exclaimed


"Valinor was capable of confining Melkor, I believe the same is possible for Sauron," Gandalf replied.

"Gandalf, that won't be easy," Eve declared. "Getting him across the country is dangerous. To us he's Sauron but to everyone else, he's David Saeran, a public figure and a very important man. Kidnap him and every law enforcement agency in England will hunting us, on land and sea."

"Look we'll figure that out later," Aaron declared since it was a moot point until they actually got their hands on David Saeran and this moment in time, that seemed like a remote possibility.  "Right now, we need to stop running and do something. We need to reach him."

"Sounds like a plan," Bryan agreed, though the mechanics of it was going to take a good deal more planning that the simplistic statement made by Aaron, "I don't fancy going through those Nazgul though."

"Unfortunately, we do not have a great deal of choice in this, he will keep them close and they will die to protect him," Legolas explained grimly.

"Unfortunately, it is unavoidable," Gandalf returned before adding with the barest hint of a smile, "However, I am familiar with the elvish spell that makes them vulnerable to your weapons. If we must face the Nine, then you will not be completely defenseless."

"So where would he be?" Haldir asked anyone who could understand him.

"That's a good question," Aaron turned to Bryan. "Do you know where Saeran is now?"

"Well when I last had any news of him, it was just after he ordered Fred's parents killed. I'm assuming he is still at his estate in Windsor," Bryan replied readily as Aaron completed treatment of his wound and was now wrapping a bandage around it. "He has a lot of security but I managed to get through once before, I see no reason why I can't do it again."

"Okay," Aaron took a deep breath; having considered in silence what was to be done as this part of the plan was being discussed. "I say we get some sleep and if you're feeling up to it Bryan, you, me and Legolas will go there tomorrow and check things out to make sure he's actually there."

"The three of you alone?" Eve looked at him in concern, not at all liking that idea.


"We're not going to let him know we're there," Aaron returned automatically, understanding her fear but refusing to let it change his mind, "we're just going to see what we're up against. No doubt, now that he knows there are elves and wizards in the equation, he might just decide to brush up on his security. We need to know what else he has up his sleeves beyond the Nazgul and armed thugs.  John Malcolm had a monster in his basement, God only knows what Saeran might have in his."

"A monster?" Bryan stared at him.

"Trust me," Aaron replied shuddering at that enormous gapping mouth that still woke him up at nights some time, "if Saeran keeps the same kinds of pets as John Malcolm, I want to know about it before we become its dinner."

"Very astute," Bryan said impressed by Aaron's strategic thinking as well as his sense of self- preservation. If one did not know better, Bryan would think that Aaron had some former military experience.  "I'm not too sure about the monster part but I have to agree with the doctor on the rest of it, just the three of us to start off with. The rest of you stay here and protect Fred."

"Do not engaged Sauron any of you," Gandalf warned before he would agree to anything. "Merely watch and learn. It is not wise to confront him prematurely. The enemy is not to be underestimated."

No one disagreed because that much about the dark lord was evident.

************

Tory had not contributed much to the discussion regarding what was to be done with Saeran because there was very little in her opinion, she could honestly contribute.  In this strange affair she found herself embroiled, Tory felt so far out of her depth that there was still a part of her that believed all this was the product of a terrible nightmare from which she would awaken in the morning.  She knew that she ought walk away and leave Aaron to his fate, now that they had a course of action but Tory was compelled to stay.  Even Aaron had said that if she wanted to be released from their company, she was free to go.  His only advice had been to leave the country and stay out of sight until they had dealt with David Saeran.  However, Tory could no more leave Aaron, than she could leave Stuart, if he was still alive.

Instead, while the others slept, she wandered to the kitchen and was glad to find that the kitchen's non-perishables were still in ample supply. Tory proceeded to make herself a pot of tea, enduring it without milk because she hoped it might help her sleep. Unfortunately, sitting at the large stainless steel bench in Ronald's Banks kitchen, sleep was the farthest thing from her mind.  Instead, Tory nursed her tea and tried to think of a reason why she was still in this strange group that comprised of elves, humans and wizards. The reason came to her immediately and compelled her to stay even though she had only vague suspicions of its truth.

However, Tory was a solicitor and as a solicitor, she knew when someone was keeping the truth from her. Aaron had told her of his experiences in New York, skillfully circumventing the one event that convinced Tory that he had not told her the complete truth. She loved him for wanting to protect her but Tory simply had to know and she would not rest until she did.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

His voice startled her and Tory was so deep in her thoughts she had not even heard him approach. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Bryan walking into his room, his shirt unbuttoned because of the bandages, moving slower than usual despite his claims that the wound he sustained was minor.  Men, she thought with sarcasm. He walked up to the table and lowered himself unto a stool facing her, the weariness in his face showing.  She thought about Fred and what the former MI6 agent had been forced to deal with since the two had come into contact and sympathized at how overwhelming this must be to him. 

Legolas had explained to her, whom he believed Aaron and Eve to be in the past.  It sounded far-fetched to her but then after what Gandalf had done; she was obliged to believe it. Aaron had always kept women at arm's length. No romantic relationship had formed between them because she instinctively knew that she was not what she was looking for, even before she married Stuart. Tory had thought that Aaron was a romantic but when she saw he and Eve together, Tory could well believe that they had been waiting all their lives for each other.  Even when things were at their worst, Tory had never seen Aaron so rapt in anyone as he was in Eve.

Bryan too had been someone in the past, someone that they knew and someone who needed redemption. It could not be an easy thing to accept especially by someone as assured about his destiny as Bryan obviously was.  Tory counted herself fortunate that there was no one in her past and who she was now, was all she had ever been. She could not imagine what it must be like to wake up one morning and find out that before this life, you had lived another and had died leaving things undone.


"I could say the same about you," Tory pointed out as he sat down slowly, taking care of his wound as he did so. "I would think you would need it more, since you are the one who has been shot."

"Minor wound," Bryan replied with a little smile, "hardly anything to be concerned about."

"Does that bravado impress anyone?" She deadpanned with sarcasm.

"The girls down the pub," he returned with a gleam of mischief in his eyes before glancing at the pot. "Is that plain tea?"

"Unfortunately yes," Tory replied. "I hoped Ronald had some chamomile but you can't expect too much of a man who was used to hoarding money. Would you like a cup?"

"I'd rather a pint but I think Aaron will have an almighty fit if he finds out I've been drinking," Bryan sighed. "Aside of being king of some ancient kingdom, I think he was also a drill sergeant in a past life."

Tory chuckled and poured him a cup before sliding it to him. "Aaron does get that way.  He's a brilliant psychiatrist but I know for a fact that he was a better medical doctor."

"Why did he change?" Bryan asked with genuine interest.

"Probably can't decide what's more challenging, mental wounds or physical ones," Tory answered as best she could because that was a question she had often wondered herself. "He's a natural healer but he can't seem to make up his mind which hurts are the worst, so he flip flops from one to another."

"Its not just a woman's prerogative to change her mind you know," Bryan replied finding himself in the curious position of defending Aaron Stone's life choices. "Perhaps Aaron feels the same way.  God knows when this is over and if I'm still alive, I may have to deal with the fact that my days with MI6 are done."

"Would that upset you?" She stared at him.

"I don't know," Bryan responded truthfully as he sipped his tea and found that it was quite soothing even if it was a poor replacement for Guinness. "I've never done anything else. I wouldn't know where to begin with a new life."

"I'm sure you'll land on your feet," Tory remarked, "men like you often do."

"Men like me?" Bryan asked, curious as to what sort she thought he was.

"You know, always in the thick of things. If you can't find trouble, you'll cause it. I'm certain you'd be the same even if you were a postal worker.  You're a man of action so to speak."

"I don't know whether I like the sound of that," Bryan replied, somewhat hesitant to think that he was a lighting rod for danger.

"You are what you are," Tory smiled, feeling no repentance in her opinion about him.

"Not that you're much different," Bryan pointed out refusing to be the only one categorized in such a manner. "Aaron was right you know, you should get out while you can.  This thing with Saeran is going to get very dirty. It might be an idea if you are far away from here when everything goes to hell."

"I can't do that," Tory shook her head, unable to even conceive the idea of running with balking. "Believe me, I wish I could but I simply can't."

"I don't want to see you hurt," Bryan said with more emotion than he intended to show. His eyes met hers briefly before he lowered his gaze, embarrassed by the display,  "if you stay with us, it will happen."

"I can't Bryan," Tory said softly, feeling a little flustered by that brief contact with even if she could not agree to what he wanted. For a moment, it felt like there was more to his words than just concern.  There was something in his eyes she could not define, like that meaningful look he had given her in the stairway. It made her compelled to give him a reason for her refusal. 

"I can't leave because I'm fairly certain that what Aaron got entangled with in New York is why Stuart was killed," she said after a moment.

She was a smart woman, Bryan thought.  Aaron was a fool if he thought she would not reach this conclusion when enough time had been devoted to the subject. Bryan could not deny that when he had learnt of Stuart Farmer's death shortly before the destruction of the Malcolm Building, he had suspected a connection as well. It was inevitable that she would not deduce the truth.

"I've been a solicitor long enough to know what doesn't fit," she continued to speak when it appeared he had nothing to say, "and what is a coincidence. Stuart dying so close to all these events in New York is not a coincidence.  If anything could convince Aaron to act against Malcolm Industries, it would be Stuart's death. It has the same power over me Bryan. If they are responsible for Stuart, then I want to see them burn just as much everyone else."

Bryan could not blame her for that. If it were someone he once loved as much as Tory had loved Stuart, then he would be braying for vengeance as well, even if that love were now in the past.  However, Bryan did not wish to see Tory ending up like Stuart Farmer because it would hurt him to know that she was dead.  He liked this woman and though they had known each other for a short time, felt as if she was the only one of her gender who knew he was a bastard and didn't seem to mind it.

He would hate to lose her.

***************

Their secret occupation of the Bank's home had still gone unnoticed when Bryan, Aaron and Legolas drove away from the residence in Westernham in the early afternoon towards Windsor. Although no one was terribly pleased that their company was being divided in this manner, it could not be denied that the plan to do conduct a little bit of reconnaissance was a good idea that should be followed through.   With Saeran almost certainly being the cause of the destruction Galadriel had witnessed in her visions, the matter of confronting Melkor's agent was inevitability they could not escape. Aaron did not mind sacrificing his life to save the earth from a dark age but he did mind if that sacrifice was in vain. Thus, before they could think about going after Saeran, they had to know what they were up against.

They spent a good deal of the afternoon driving to Saeran's sprawling Windsor estate, travelling through the County of Berkshire whose main occupation was farming.  Legolas in particular enjoyed the drive, taking in the sights of the lovely English countryside as they drove down the M25 motorway with West Byfleet and Chertsey providing landmarks for their journey.  The elf claimed that the lands they passed reminded him of the Shire, though he had never spent a great deal of time in the lands of the Periannath or hobbits as they were better known to the rest of Middle earth in the days after Sauron's destruction.

"So they were not dwarves?" Aaron asked as Legolas imparted to them what he knew about hobbits.

"No, they were more like men actually," the elf replied. "The only difference between a man and a hobbit was their size and their feet."

"Feet?" Bryan looked over his shoulder at the backseat to meet Legolas' gaze in question.

"Yes, they never wore shoes and had hairy feet," he replied.  "They also had the greatest fondness for brew and smoking leaf."

Aaron had to stifle a snort and Bryan faced front trying not to smile, much to Legolas' confusion.  The two humans exchanged a knowing look before Bryan remarked with a lopsided grin.

"That explains the Welsh then."

"Or Potheads," Aaron sniggered, adding further to the elf's bewilderment at what they found so amusing.

Shortly before noon, they turned off the main highway into Windsor Road. Ironically enough, this eventually linked to The Straight Road that brought them into the heart of Windsor. Old Windsor, the village it had replaced was a further five kilometres to the east.  Windsor was something of a market town with some light industry. However its biggest claim to fame was as a tourist destination. Home not only to the Legoland Amusement Park, it was easy reach to any number of popular attractions, the most notable being Windsor Castle. Bryan had been grateful for the number of people that visited this small community because it meant that he was able to blend in quite easily during his surveillance of David Saeran's estate, some ten kilometres away from town.

Instead of setting out immediately for Saeran's home, Bryan went instead to the warehouse where he had rented a garage to store his van of surveillance equipment, borrowed quite illegally from MI6. Considering that it was highly likely he would be able to return any of it, Bryan decided to put it to good use. Leaving the Ford in its place, the company continued their journey to David Saeran's estate in the van with the intention of returning for the vehicle once they had completed their scouting mission regarding Saeran's whereabouts. Bryan expected that Saeran would still be at his estate since men of his reputation and lifestyle did not leave the country without someone noticing it.

In the eventuality that Saeran was not at his home, Bryan had every intention of driving to London, finding Richard Caldwell and shaking the truth from him. He had not bothered to answer any of Caldwell's efforts to contact him on his cellular phone. Bryan was certain that if Caldwell were responsible for Saeran's men turning up at his flat, then any communication between them would be monitored. While Bryan knew just how long he could stay on the line before any digital tracing was possible, he did not wish to risk it when there was more than his life at stake. 

Despite the odd companions he had acquired, Bryan could not deny that it was nice to find that he was not completely alone in this insane affair he had stumbled into. While a part of him was still having difficulty believing that he had once been Boromir of Gondor, Aaron and the others seemed to be a decent lot who were willing to risk their lives in order to save the world. Perhaps what he needed was to be convinced, as Gandalf had convinced Tory. While he was never comfortable with anyone toying with his mind, perhaps his disbelief could be lessened if the wizard would simply show him the past he supposedly played such a vital role in.

"What is all this stuff?" Aaron asked as they found a secluded place on the edge of Saeran's estate to park the vehicle and begin their surveillance.

"Infra-red cameras, some listening equipment being a micro-bar digital recorder, visual output for a couple of wireless cameras I installed, couple of fibre optic receivers, the standard surveillance gear," Bryan explained.

"It is almost another language," Legolas remarked, having understood nothing that Bryan had just said. However, judging by the screens he could see displaying the insides of Saeran's home, he could not refute the capability of the strange devices within the vehicle.

"Standard gear?" Aaron looked at him suspiciously. "You know I used to have patients with schizophrenic delusions that they were being watched all the time. After  seeing this stuff I'm starting to wonder whether or not they were really unbalanced or did they know something I didn't?"

"Just because you are paranoid, doesn't mean they're not out to get you," Bryan flashed him a cocky grin before adding with some measure of seriousness. "You may turn your nose up on all this but let me tell you, these devices as invasive as they are, stop more terrorists acts from coming to light than you will ever know.  Most of the time, we don't let on how close the public comes to getting blown up or what lunatic is roaming the same streets. It certainly isn't the most noble professions I can tell you but it is necessary."

"Well it sure isn't James Bond," Aaron muttered as he conceded the point. 

"James Bond is a load of rubbish," Bryan retorted with no small amount of derision. "I have yet to find myself in a situation where I was going to be killed by an elaborate trap that takes an entire twenty minutes to do the job whilst being left completely alone. Most hostiles tend to just shoot you."

"So the laser in the Rolex is also fake?" Aaron asked with a completely straight face.

"Legolas, pass me my gun," Bryan said with an equally neutral expression.

"If it will keep your minds upon what we are here for, certainly," Legolas replied with a smile. "Although I can tell you that Sauron is here."

"Are you sure?" Aaron stared at him, all traces of juvenile behaviour vanished by that one statement.

"I can sense his presence," Legolas replied looking at the small television screen that revealed the inside of Saeran's mansion.

"Can he sense you?" Bryan asked with concern, not wanting their position to be given away, at least not yet.

"I do not believe so," Legolas answered honestly. "I do not sense the Nine either, only Sauron."

"Let's see where he is," Bryan replied and began flipping switches on the panelling beneath the screen. Each flick of a switch corresponded with a burst of static with different views of the house being displayed. Bryan had only installed his surveillance equipment in parts of the house that was certain to be high traffic areas.

"His taste in residence has improved since Barad-dûr," Legolas commented as he saw Sauron's plush surroundings.

"There," Bryan pointed out.

David Saeran was in the front foyer of his mansion, issuing instructions to his household staff.  A collection of suitcases was being ferried past him by servants and the implication that the man was quitting his present location was fairly apparent.

"I think he's leaving," Aaron declared, pointing out the obvious.

"We can't lose him," Bryan said anxiously, "I wish those bugs were still in place, we could at least hear where he was going."

"Forget about that," Aaron said abruptly as the image on the screen revealed that Saeran was ready to depart.  "Follow him."

Bryan met his gaze for a moment and nodded in agreement before hurrying to the front of the van and secured himself in the seat.

Aaron watched as Saeran strode out of the foyer beyond the reach of the tiny camera.  Saeran seemed oblivious to the fact that he was being observed, though Aaron wondered whether he would be overtly concerned even if he knew they were there. Once he was out of the house, there was no need to spy at him through the van's security cameras since, the window provided an adequate view of Saeran emerging from the front door of his house.  Though they were well hidden, the van was still close enough to see Saeran and his bodyguards, who on this occasion did not appear to be any of the Nine, waiting for the arrival of a stretched limousine that was presently pulling out of the garage at the far end of the mansion.

The car came to a halt in front of the mansion's main entrance, its passenger clearly to be David Saeran. Saeran did not linger long once the vehicle was before him and promptly climbed inside its dark confines. A few more seconds ticked by as the luggage was loaded into the rear of the car and it appeared to Aaron that Saeran had packed quite a lot and wondered exactly how long the man intended to be away.  Had their arrival precipitated his need to run? Somehow Aaron doubted that their presence alone could cause the man to flee. After all since Saeran had been aware of their existence, it was they more reason to fear a confrontation than Malcolm Industries CEO.

The reason for his departure gave Aaron grave concern because the only reason he could imagine why Saeran would leave the capture of Fred and the rest of them to his underlings was if he was required to be elsewhere. Any urgency that could press a dark lord to abandon his plans of vengeance against old enemies was good reason for worry. 

Bryan waited until the car had pulled out of the lengthy driveway that led to the main road before he started the van's engines and gave pursuit. Tailing was also something he was accustomed to doing and never than at this moment, had he put as much care into the effort because they had to know where Saeran was growing. Gandalf's portents of doom, not to mention his claims that they were running out of time, demanded that they kept the dark lord in their sights for as long as possible. 

The van kept a respectable distance as the pursuit continued into the night. The darkness made it easier to remain unnoticed and if Saeran saw them, the man certainly was not concerned enough to do anything about it. However, Aaron tended to think that whilst he might be willing to leave their fate in the hands of the Nine or whomever else he had hunting for Fred and her companions, Saeran would not allow any unnecessary information regarding his whereabouts fall into their hands, particularly if he were leaving for a specific reason.

It became evidently clear that Saeran was heading towards London and Bryan's worst suspicions were confirmed when the limousine took the road to Heathrow Airport.

Saeran was leaving the country.