Richard arrived at building where he worked well after the sun had gone down. After the incident in the woods, Richard had spent the next few hours stumbling almost blindly through the dark forest. He had run on through the brush for several minutes after seeing that Englishman come after him with that ferocious animal-like face. As he ran, Richard had felt the man only a step behind him. Richard's dead run through the trees had often caught his leg on the outgrowth and brought him face first with the forest floor. He had then scrambled to his feet, expecting the deadly fangs of his pursuer to piece his flesh at any moment. Finally realizing that he wasn't being followed, Richard had then wandered through the trees looking for the edge of the forest. It wasn't until the sun rose close to an hour later that Richard had been able to find is way out. Coming to a highway which followed the tree line, Richard had begun walking up the road in the direction that he had believed took him toward town. Soon, he had spotted a car driving up the road at his rear and his first thought had been to flag the car down and hopefully get a ride. Richard had then realized that those who had tried to kill him last night or whatever organization they worked for might still be looking him. Panicking, Richard had quickly dove back into the trees before the car's occupants could have a chance to spot him. Richard had traveled this way, dodging cars as they came up the road, until he had seen what looked like the airport terminal along the road ahead. Upon reaching the terminal, Richard had been slightly hesitant to enter. He knew that if someone was still looking for him, that they might have people watching for him at the airport. Deciding that he had to take the chance or otherwise be stuck in this town, Richard had finally entered. He made his way to the ticket counter and had bought the next flight back to Los Angeles. The attendant at the booth had eyed him a bit warily. Richard realized that he was acting a bit paranoid and that the run through the woods had left him looking a bit disheveled. Once on the flight, however, Richard had felt a bit more at ease. Seeing the runway fall into the distance behind the small plane, he had finally began to relax. Having not slept in over twenty-four hours, Richard was soon passed-out in his seat.
From L.A., Richard had bought a flight back across the country to Langley. He wasn't quite certain what to do when he got there. He felt a little like he was heading back into the jaws of danger. Getting home seemed more important that anything to Richard at that moment. As if within the confines of his small apartment nothing could harm him. On the flight back to L.A., however, Richard had plenty of time to think about the extreme circumstances in which he had found himself. He finally decided that he had to get back to the laboratory where he worked and warn the rest of his team. If Jerry was still involved with the project, then none of them were safe. After picking up his car in the parking lot at Langley Airport, Richard had driven straight over to his offices. The sky was dark and cloudy as he drove the streets to the office and the closer he got, the more ominous the dark clouds became.
Now, Richard was just passing the guards post into the parking lot outside his building. The post was more heavily guarded than normal. There was another officer in the booth with its operator and each looked a little fidgety. They thoroughly checked Richard's identification when he pulled up and acted uneasy the entire process They required his office badge, his driver's license, and the registration for his car. After that, there was a two minute phone call by the guards up to the building. Finally, they raised the bar and allowed him into the compound. Driving up to the front of the building, Richard pulled into one of the spaces reserved for upper management. Richard was in a hurry and suddenly thought that worrying about trouble over a parking space was a bit silly under the circumstances. As he exited his car, Richard spotted several police vehicles parked directly below the steps up to the main entrance. Their emergency lights were on and rhythmically flashed their blue and red. There were three police cars, none were occupied.
Richard had a moment of panic. Was it possible that they were looking for him?
"Perhaps Jerry had contacted the police and issued a warrant for my arrest." Richard thought.
Richard shook his head and dropped the idea.
"I've been watching too much X-Files."
Richard climbed the stairs to the entrance warily however, watching around him for any sudden movement. Reaching the top of the stairs and seeing the entrance, Richard stopped in his tracks. Glass lay shattered across the concrete outside the entrance. Both of the heavy, glass inlaid doors lay on the concrete several feet from the entrance into the building. Each looked broken and mangled, as if they had been torn off their hinges and tossed aside. Inside beyond the walls of glass that surrounded most of the lobby, Richard saw several police officers in uniform standing at the front security desk. They appeared to be questioning the guard at the desk. Richard continued walking again toward the front entrance. As he stepped cautiously over the broken glass and into the building, Richard saw one of the officers glance up at him. He motioned to a fellow officer next to him and pointed toward Richard. The second officer then stepped away from the guard station and began waling across the lobby toward Richard. Richard watched the man as he approached. Glancing past him and toward the rest of the officers as the guard station, Richard noticed something on the front of the dark marble-looking booth. Realizing what he was seeing, Richard's eyes opened wider. It was a blood stain.
The officer came within a few feet of Richard and held his hand out towards him.
"Stop there, sir." He commanded curtly.
Richard stopped.
"What happened," Richard asked.
The officer lowered his hand and grabbed the grip of the pistol holstered at his side.
"There has been a bit of an incident, sir. Looks like someone broke in and stole a few things." He answered.
"What," Richard responded, disbelieving.
"Do you work here, sir," the officer asked.
"Yes."
Richard then pulled his badge out from under his coat and presented it to the officer. The policeman looked down at the badge then back up at Richard.
"What did they take?" Richard asked as his waited.
"I'm not sure, sir. Where in the building were you heading?"
Richard was heading down stairs and into the underground lab. He wanted to check on his team. For some reason, however, Richard felt it would be dangerous to mention this to the officer.
"I'm heading up to my office," he lied. "It's on the second floor."
The officer nodded in satisfaction.
"Thank you, sir. Just checking. You have a nice night."
With that, the officer turned from Richard and began walking back toward the others at the guard station.
"Was anyone hurt?" Richard asked the officer as he walked away.
The officer flinched at the question and stopped. He didn't answer right away. He then half turned toward Richard and spoke back over his shoulder while looking at the floor.
"I...I'm not sure, sir." He stammered and then hurriedly continued walking away.
Richard watched him for a few moments then began making his way past the opposite side of the guard station and towards the elevators behind it. There was a set of three elevators on each side of the back of the lobby. As Richard approached them, he noticed that one of the elevator doors on the right was open. As he passed the door, Richard glanced inside. He gasped at what he saw. The back, upper left corner of the white elevator car was splattered with blood. It almost completed covered the upper corner and the wall down to the elevator floor. On the floor of the elevator car, Richard saw what looked like a police marker with the letter "H" written upon it. Richard shuddered at the thought of what that marker represented.
"What the hell happened here?" Richard thought. A far away sense of fear brushed the edge of his mind.
As Richard stepped passed the blood stained elevator, he glanced above it and noticed that the green up arrow indicator was lit. Whatever had caused that stain might have come from bellow. The implications worried Richard as the faces of his team flashed through his mind. He stepped up to the elevators on the right side and reached out to push the down arrow set in the plate in between two of the doors. He paused before he hit the button. With a calm motion, Richard turned his head to the right and looked back over his shoulder at the guard station. Richard found the officer which had questioned him at the door watching him. Richard turned to face the elevator call buttons and pushed the up arrow.
Richard took the arriving elevator to the second floor of the building where he stepped off and immediately selected the down arrow directly outside the elevator doors. Once the car arrived, Richard rode it down to its lowest possible level, well beneath the city of Langley. Reaching its destination, the doors opened and Richard stared out of the elevator into the dark end of a long hallway. Looking up at the ceiling, Richard saw that the halogen lights had been broken. The floor below the lights was littered with bits of white glass and plastic. Stepping cautiously from the elevator Richard began a slow walk down the hallway toward the double-doors at the far end. Walking through the darkened end, Richard glanced to the side and saw a dark stain of blood on wall. The stain was low on the wall and ran down to the floor where a larger stain marked where a pool of crimson had recently been. Richard was startled by the sight and glanced around at the rest of the nearby hallway. To his astonishment, he saw several more stains marking the walls. He also noticed what looked like bullet holes riddled in an almost random pattern across the walls and floor. Richard rushed by the gory scene, worry welling up in his chest anew. Reaching the double doors, Richard burst through them and into the adjoining hallway. No one walked the normally busy floor. Richard looked for disturbances similar to those he had just witness. The floor and walls looked as clean as ever. Taking the hallway to the left, Richard soon came to the security elevator leading down into the restricted floors. Richard swiped his badge through the card reader and waited for the system to beep indicating that he needed to next pass the palm and retinal scans. The system did not beep however and Richard was about to swipe his card again when the elevator doors opened. Richard was puzzled. He had never known the security measures to be lifted in any way.
"Perhaps the system was somehow broken during the theft." Richard thought. Then the idea that what the thieves had been after was down in the restricted area popped into his head. His team wasn't the only one working on a project in the labs below so the possibility that the thieves had been after anything Richard was working on was remote. This logic didn't calm Richard down in any way.
With his brow clenched in worry, Richard stepped onto the elevator and punched the button for the floor on which his team was working. The doors closed and the elevator silently slid downwards. Moments later, the elevator rung loudly and doors opened. Richard was immediately greeted by the scene of several more blood stains splattered on the wall of the outside hallway. No one could be seen down either direction of the hallway. It seemed as if the entire building had been evacuated. In a panic, Richard rushed out of the elevator and down the hallway. He soon reached the lab where his team had been examining the ancient dagger. Entering the bright room through the double doors, doors which Richard knew should have been locked with a guard posted outside, Richard stopped just inside the doorway. The room was in shambles. The examining tables had been knocked over and glass was strewn about the floor. Much of the electrical equipment had been shattered and now stood blackened and destroyed. Stains of dried blood were splattered across the floor.
Richard fled the room and continued down the hallway. The hallway curved to the left and Richard moved around the turn at almost a run. Stopping abruptly, Richard stood facing the strong doors to the storage room. Through the small windows in the doors, Richard saw that the room beyond was dark. He stepped over to the console on the side of the door, ready to swipe his badge through the card reader in order to gain entrance. He found the console dark and unresponsive. Confused, Richard reached for the handle on one of the doors and pulled. The door swung smoothly toward him. Still not understanding why security was all but removed, Richard walked into the dark room.
Stepping inside the room, Richard noticed the array of equipment to his right. The equipment was all dark, nothing was functioning. Turning to look at the corner behind him, Richard felt his knees almost buckle. The tank still sat in its corner. However, it sat empty. The thick insulated glass of the front of the tank had been shattered and only a small pool of coolant sat in the bottom. The rest of the coolant had presumably spilled out when the glass had been broken. The remains were nowhere to be found. Richard had the fleeting thought that the tank had somehow broken and that they man's remains had been relocated because of it, but Richard knew this was not the case. For some reason, the remains had been stolen. Richard couldn't understand why. Certainly, the find had great significance, but why were these remains so important that someone had to break into a government compound and kill several people to steal them.
Richard stepped back to the wall and slid to the floor. He thought again about his research team. Some of which had no doubt been in the lab when the break-in had occurred. He hoped that everyone was alright, but the evidence didn't support that hope. Richard buried his head in his hands. He didn't understand what was happening and the stress of the last few days was beginning to take its toll. Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes.
Suddenly, the cell phone in Richard's pocket rang. Its singular high pitched chiming started Richard his head shot up.
The phone rang again.
Trying to calm himself, Richard reached into his coat pocket and pulled the phone out. He hit the keypad and raised the device to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Bateman?"
It was Jerry.
Anger exploded in Richard and he quickly rose to his feet.
"You sonofabitch! What the hell have you done?" Richard yelled into his phone.
"Calm down, Mr. Bateman."
"Calm down?" Richard cried, incredulously. "Calm down? First you try and have me killed and now you do this...break into the lab and steal the remains?"
"I had nothing to do with the loss of the remains, Mr. Bateman. And yes, I did attempt to have you killed. But I had my reasons...reasons which have changed."
"I don't give a shit about your reasons!" Richard yelled. "You can be sure that the director's office will hear about this mess!"
"Fine, tell them." Jerry responded calmly. "In the mean time, I have something I need to show you. Will you meet me in your office upstairs?"
"Meet you? I don't friggin trust you. How do I know that you're not lying to me?"
"If I wanted you dead, Mr. Bateman, I would have killed you as soon as you arrived in Langley. Now, I can partially explain what happened in the lab earlier this evening, but I need you to meet me upstairs."
Richard scowled at his options. He certainly didn't trust Jerry any longer, but it was becoming more and more imperative to Richard by the moment to try and make some sense of the events of the last few days. He knew that sitting alone in his apartment wasn't going to help. Finally, accepting that he had no where else to turn Richard agreed to meet Jerry alone.
Leaving the storage room, Richard made his way down several of the dimly lit hallways. Richard was used to these halls being normally filled with white coat researchers who worked on the various projects housed in the subterranean lab. Now, however, the sound of his footsteps on the pale tile of the floor was the only sound Richard heard as he walked. A subtle feeling of paranoia crept in as he imagined an unidentified stalker following only a few corners behind him. Finally reaching his destination, Richard stood before a door with the word "Security" stenciled on its front. Normally, these doors were inaccessible to everyone but the armed security personnel that constantly roamed the hall. Richard was hoping that with the rest of the doors open to anyone with a badge that this door would also allow him access. Taking his badge in hand, Richard swiped it through the card reader attached next to the heavy door. The indicator on the card reader flashed green and he heard the door click. Richard pulled on the door and it swung open. Stepping inside, Richard found himself in a small locker room. Two lines of almost ceiling high steel lockers ran the length of the walls to Richard's left and right. Bolted to the floor in front of both row of lockers were two lacquered wooden benches. On the far wall opposite the door hung what Richard had come looking for, the firearm cabinet. The cabinet door was a heavy mesh of metal and its lock was a numeric key pad. The cabinet door currently hung open, however. Richard approached the cabinet. He found that it held four black automatic rifles, each standing to the back of the cabinet. Two of the slots used for rifles were currently empty. Next to the rifles at the bottom of the cabinet were slots for what looked like the security officer's standard issue handguns. Reaching down, Richard lifted one out of its slot. The gun was heavy and cold in his hand. Richard hadn't fired a weapon in years. As a research agent for the CIA, Richard had no need to carry a gun like many field agents did. Remembering the basics, however, Richard released the clip which slid out of the bottom of the grip. The clip was fully loaded. Richard slammed the clip back into place and pulled back on the gun's breach, loading a bullet into the barrel. He didn't like weapons much and always felt uncomfortable when he had carried one. Jerry had already attempted to kill him once, however, and Richard wouldn't allow him to try again.
A few minutes later, Richard was stepping off the elevator onto the compounds second floor above ground. The hallways were again dark but Richard was used to this having worked many late hours. Richard had placed the gun in his coat pocket. He had looked for a holster of some type for the weapon before leaving the security room, but found nothing readily available.
Richard cautiously made his way down the cold, dimly lit hallways. His feet echoed off the tile floors, making his approach obvious to anyone but a deaf person. Richard turned a corner and spotted the door to his office down the adjoining hallway. The door stood open and his office light was on. Richard paused for a moment and listened for any sounds of who might be waiting for him. Nothing. He then slowly walked down the hallway toward his door. He tried being as quiet as possible, but his shoes still clicked on the tiles and thwarted his efforts. Finally reaching the lit door, Richard bent his neck around the corner and peered in.
Sitting patently on the side of his desk was Jerry. He was wearing the same formal clothing that Richard had last seen him in. Leaning back on to Richard's desk, Jerry had his hands calmly folded in front of him. Upon seeing Jerry, Richard's anger began to rise. He recognized this man as the man who had ordered his death. Reaching into his coat, Richard pulled the gun out. He held the weapon pointed before him as he turned the corner and entered his office.
As he entered the room, Jerry's head snapped around to spot him. A smile flashed across the thin man's face. He then glanced down and saw the weapon in Richard's hand. The weapon that Richard was currently pointing at him. Jerry sharply stood from the desk and took a step back from Richard.
"I'm just here to help you, Richard." Jerry stated in his always calm tone.
"Don't worry," Richard assured, "this is just for protection. You'll understand if I don't completely trust you."
"I told you, if I wanted you dead you wouldn't have ever made it to the office."
"I guess you'll just have to consider me paranoid." Richard replied. "Okay, tell me what happened downstairs. Who took the remains?"
Jerry smiled.
"I doubt the answer would be believable if I told you." He reached into the pocket of his black coat and pulled something out. It was made of opaque plastic and Richard recognized it as a VHS tape holder.
"This is a tape from the security cameras during the incident. It was confiscated by us before the local police arrived. Its footage from several different camera stations across the building, actually." He paused. "This will answer all your questions."
Jerry then offered the tape before him to Richard. Hesitantly, Richard reached out and snatched the tape from Jerry's hand. He glanced down at the plastic case then back up toward Jerry.
"What happened to the rest of my research team?" Richard asked, almost a whisper.
Jerry's gaze hardened and he took a moment to swallow.
"The tape will show you." He finally answered.
Fear spiked up Richard's back. He was scared by the implications of that statement.
Backing out of his office, Richard continued to point his weapon at Jerry. Once out the door and in the hallway, Richard jerked to his right and almost sprinted down the hallway.
There was a meeting room on this end of the office that was equipped with a VCR, the same meeting room where Richard had given his presentation to Jerry not more than two days ago. Running down the hall with the tape case and the gun in hand, Richard soon reached his destination. He burst through the door and into the room and was plunged into darkness. Richard dropped the gun into his coat pocket and groped along the wall with his hand. He finally found the switch and flipped on the lights. The room was just as he remembered it with its long mahogany table, leather chairs, and plush red carpeting. Rushing across the room to the canvas on the far wall, Richard hit a button on a panel to the side of the canvas. A quiet whirling sound clicked in and the canvas hanging over the wall slowly lifted into the ceiling. Behind the canvas, a large screen television sat in a niche. Next to the screen on a shelf also inlaid in the wall was a VCR. Richard hurriedly popped open the cassette case Jerry had given him and slid the tape into the VCR. He then tapped a button on the bottom of the large television screen and the room slowly lit up with a pale glow. The VCR auto-played after Richard inserted the tape. Now all Richard saw on the screen was the standard television white-noise.
A moment passed and the screen flickered and an image appeared. It was the storage room down below the surface where the remains had been kept. The grainy view was from one of the room corners by the ceiling. It showed almost the entire room. In the center of the image stood the tank and Richard saw that it still held the remains. The was no sound with the picture and only the quiet motor unwinding the tape inside the VCR accompanied Richard's breath. Richard's eyes locked on the double doors on the right of the image. Any moment, Richard expected to see the doors burst open and the face of the thieves that had were there to take the remains. Nothing happened, however. Several minutes went by and nothing happened. Richard stood and walked over to the VCR to hit the controls and forward through until he saw someone. He was about to hit the button when, out of the corner of his eye, Richard saw something move on-screen. Standing directly in front of the screen, Richard turned his attention back to the image. Again, nothing happened. Richard was about to turn and reach for the VCR to rewind the image, when movement happened again. Richard's jaw dropped and his blood drained from his face. The movement had come from inside the tank. He watched as a hand lifted inside the blue liquid of the tank and pressed against the glass. The palm laid flat against the insulated pane. Suddenly, a face jutted out from within the clear blue coolant and up against the glass. Richard gasped and stumbled backwards, catching himself on the table behind him. The face was the stony mask of the remains. Richard continued to watch the image. The man in the tank pressed his forehead against the glass, peering out into the room beyond. The face wasn't completely clear, but Richard swore he saw anger written across it. The face withdrew back into the tank and was lost to the security camera. The tank then jostled and almost tipped over on its side. Then there was calm and Richard squinted at the image looking for a glimpse of the now active remains. Suddenly, the glass front of the tank shattered outward with explosive power, showering the room with deadly shards. Coolant spilled out of the tank through the new opening and splashed across the floor of the storeroom.
Spilling out with coolant, the remains crashed to the storeroom floor. The body landed on its hands and knees. With a quick jerk of his torso, the man stood. His head snapped around looking about the room franticly. A snarl curled the mans lip and his back arched forward like that of a angry wolf. He then almost leapt across the room toward the double doors. The man took an instant to stare out the security doors. Without thinking, Richard hoped that the doors would be able to hold him in. A moment later, the man on the screen thrust his arms at the double doors and they both broke open with a tremendous force. The man vanished from the room.
Richard's mind was wrapped in denial. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had been poking and prodding these remains only days ago. There was no activity. His heart was stopped and there was no electrical activity in the brain. There had been no biological activity whatsoever.
The image on-screen flickered and changed. Richard was now looking at destroyed lab he had come across while downstairs earlier. Only now, the lab was almost pristine. Two figures looked to be working in the lab. One was a long haired technician in a white coat examining something under a microscope. Richard recognized this person as Nancy, one of the members of his team and the last friend he had talked to before leaving for Sunnydale. The other was another technician in a white coat. This technician was a male with very short black hair. His back was facing the security camera so Richard wasn't exactly sure who this was. With wild eyes, Richard watched the image and wondered what this had to do with the activity of the remains. A moment passed as the two technicians worked. Watching Nancy, Richard saw her look up from her work on the table and glance to the left toward the door which sat out of the camera's view. Staring at the door off camera, Nancy's eyes grew wide and she froze in place. A moment later, Nancy spoke something and the tech working near her looked up at her and then turned to face towards the door off camera. As he turned, Richard recognized the technician. It was Michael Qualer. He was a relatively new addition to the team and Richard wasn't very familiar with him. Both stood in their white coats with looks of astonishment across their faces. Then, from the lower portion of the image where one entering from the door would first appear, Richard saw the black haired head of the remains step into view. Richard could only see the top of his head, but he seemed to be walking slowly towards the two technicians. The animated remains towered over the two frightened technicians with his broad shoulders and strong arms. Nancy and Michael began backing away from him and towards the far wall. The remains stop his approached and watched as Nancy and Michael fearfully backed away. Richard then saw the remain's jaw moving and watched as he seemed to began speaking. The faces of the two terrified techs clenched in confusion. The remains continued to speak and then he lifted his hand with a clenched fist gesturing as if holding something. Nancy began shouting, looking at the door off the screen while Michael continued to stare at the man before him. As Nancy continued to shout, Richard saw the muscles of the remains clench and the man opened his mouth to shout. Both Nancy and Michael gripped their heads in pain, covering their ears. The camera shook and Richard saw glass exploded from the direction for the door and inward on the room, showering the three inhabitants with shards. Then the image distorted and flickered into static.
The next image flashed onto the screen and showed the elevator exit at the end of the long hallway at the entrance to the underground labs. Richard remembered the numerous blood stains he had found along the walls of that hallway. The camera position seemed to be on the far wall from the elevator exit. The hallway currently looked unharmed and all of the overhanging lights were intact and working.
Moments into the image, Richard saw someone step into view at the bottom of the image. Richard recognized the long black hair and broad shoulders of the now walking remains. He walked calmly down the hallway toward the elevator doors. He was still naked but Richard gasped when he saw what looked like blood dripping from his hands. The animated remains stepped forward slowly, patiently. As he calmly stepped down the hallway, his head continuously twisted from one side to another, scanning the walls and ceiling.
Richard watched as he stopped in his tracks and his head jerked forward toward the elevator doors. Suddenly the arrival indicator above the elevator lit. The steel doors jarred with movement as they began to open. Watching the doors for only a split second, the remains swiftly bolted to the left toward the wall and disappeared from view. Richard's eye stared with disbelief at what he had just seen. If he hadn't been a practical man, he would have swore he saw the remains disappear behind the wall as if it had been a curtain or wall of water. The elevator doors continued to open and out stepped three men. Richard recognized these men as security officers. All officers were armed and now held their weapons in their hands. Two men held black pistols, but the third officer in back had a large automatic rifle which he held across his chest by the trigger. They looked down the hallway warily then began walking towards the far exit. Richard watched them converse as they slowly traversed the hallway. Their movements were carefully placed and they watched the door at the end of the hallway with scrutiny.
Finally passing halfway down the hallway and passed the point at which the remains disappeared, Richard began to see a distortion in the paint on the left wall. Not watching their rear, the guards seemed unaware as they continued walking. The distortion was bending the white paint on the wall outwards like a bulbous appendage. Richard watched in horror as the distortion formed into the face of the remains. His head and black hair hung out from the wall as if he was a part of it. Slowly the distortion expanded as the remains stepped clear of the paint. Now standing behind the guards, the remains watched with deadly calm as they stepped away from him. Then he spoke. His moth opened and his slim lips subtly moved to form his words. Seeing the man's face, Richard tried to make out what he might be saying but the words were too foreign. At the sound from behind them, the already wary guards snapped around with weapons high and pointed at the remains. From the camera's viewing angle, Richard could only see the upper torso of each of the guards but Richard could still make out the guards shouting at the remains and motioning toward the floor with their weapons.
The remains waited a moment and then spoke again.
His lips moved sharp and dangerously as he spoke this time with his face twisting in anger at every syllable. He lifted his hand into a fisted before him and bounced the wrist in place as if he was holding something. The still shouting guards stopped yelling when they spotted his hand and the blood that dripped from it. In a blaze of light, the third guard, now in front, fired several rounds from his rifle at the remains. Quick as lightning, Richard watched the lifted hand of the remains blur through the air before him. When the firing ceased, the remains stood with his blood soaked hand before him. The guards stared in confusion, their weapons lowering slightly in their disbelief.
The remains opened his hand and something dropped from his palm and too the floor. Panic overtaking them, the guards lifted their weapons and opened fire. Just as the first few shots we fired, the remains vanished from view, as if instantly wiped from the image. The rifle of the front-most guard suddenly rocked upward and sprayed wild shots across the hallway and up the wall. A spray of red coming from out of camera view splattered across the wall to the left as the shots continued. One of the guards appeared flying out from behind the cameras imaged and sailed down the hallway and landed in a heap at the far elevator doors. Flashes of gunfire strobed the hallway and one of the overhanging lights exploded in a hail of glass and plastic. Then the image jarred upward toward the ceiling and then flashed back into snow.
The screen flickered and an new image appeared. This time the image was a split screen between two camera images. On the left the image showed the building's lobby and elevator exits. Clearly shown in the lower portion of the screen was the lobby guard station. Currently, a single guard sat behind the desk. On the right side of the screen, Richard saw a view of the main entrance and the outside stairs leading up to the doors.
The guard at the station sat comfortably behind the desk staring at something blocked from the cameras view. Richard saw the flickering of multicolored lights across the guards face and realized that the guard was probably watching public television.
Down the wide hallway behind the guard station, Richard saw the arrival indicator light up above one of the elevators to the left. Richard was overcome with a sense of dread as he watched the elevator doors. Slowly they slid open. From the camera angel, Richard could not see into the elevator. He watched the emptiness between the open doors expecting the remains to step out and onto the black tile floor of the lobby. Just before the elevator doors closed, Richard saw the bare form of the animated remains step into the lobby. He still held the impenetrable calm manner and walked with curious determination down the hallway from the elevator and toward the guard station.
The guard at the station had not responded to the familiar pang of the elevator's arrival. He continued to watch the television before him. The remains approached behind him and watched with raptor's eyes. Sensing someone approaching, the guard snapped his head around to peer behind him. The guard spotted the naked and blood soaked form walking down the hall behind him and sat startled for a moment. He then leapt from his chair and drew his sidearm out from its holster on his belt. He held the weapon up before him and towards the remains. The remains didn't waiver from his approach.
Seeing that his threat was not being heeded, the guard backed around the front of the guard station and tried to keep the round marble station between him and the remains. The remains walked up to the marble and stopped, watching the guard. Confused, the guard began shouting at the remains. Richard saw his mouth opening wide with each word. His posture suggested that he was issuing commands. The remains didn't seem to respond except to lift his right hand palm closed before him as if he was holding something. He then spoke with calm form. The guard stopped his shouting and stared at the remains in confusion. Then, the guard noticed the drying blood caked over his hand. His eyes drew wide and his muscles clenched. With a flash from the muzzle, a shot fired from the pistol held in the guard's hand. Watching the remains, Richard blinked at what he saw. Before the shot, the remains had been holding right his hand outstretched before him with the palm closed. Now, however, his hand was lifted over his left shoulder with the closed fist facing outward. Richard hadn't taken his eyes off the remains and had not seen him move his arm. It was just suddenly there.
The remain's face quickly clenched in fury. His mouth opened and he shouted something forceful. He then brought his right arm down on the marble of the desk in front of him. Astonishingly, the marble exploded under his hit. The marble block instantly crumbled and cast a thin layer of dust into the air as it cracked. The guard stood with his weapon angled lower and a look of disbelief on his face. He lifted the gun again, no doubt to continue firing, but the remains sharply lifted his right arm still held over the broken tile of marble. The guard suddenly launched from where he was standing and flew across the lobby. He struck the far wall and jarred with the impact. The gun slipped from his fingers. He didn't fall to the floor, however. Not understanding why, the guard hung there a foot off the ground, seemingly attached to the wall. The remains slowly walked from around the station and across the floor toward the guard floating on the wall. Richard could now only see the remains from the rear but could still see that he spoke something to the guard while standing before him. The guard did not respond and only rolled his head deliriously from side to side. After a moment the remain's left arm shot up with incredible speed and griped the guard by the neck. Then, with just a flick of his wrist, he sent the guard sailing through the air back toward the guard station. Richard watched as he saw the guard make contact with the marble head first. The image made Richard flinch in pain and shock. A shower of blood sprayed from the guards head and onto the marble before slumping unmoving to the tiled floor.
The remains watched the guard's body with heated anger flashing in his eyes. The muscles in his arms were clenched and his fingers were wrapped into fists at his side. He then looked off from the body and toward the front doors. Moving downward and off the lower edge of the left image, Richard watched on the right image for the remains to exit the building. To Richard's amazement, the front door suddenly burst from then hinges and out onto the concrete before the stairs. The glass from the doors and surrounding windows exploded outward in a shower of glinting light. The remains stepped out from the build through the broken glass. He seemed unworried about his feet being lacerated by the countless shards of glass. Seeing the outside, he stopped. Richard saw a look of confusion pass over the face of the remains. Scanning the stairs and the parking lot beyond, the remains calmly stepped down the steps and off the image. The image flickered to snow and then blacked out.
Richard could do nothing but stare at the blank television in disbelief. This was insane. Those remains had been pulled out from under five hundred meters of solid ice. Richard had personally spent several hours in the same room with him performing tests and baffling over his very existence. Now those remains were up and walking around and, apparently, very angry.
"As you can see," a voice came from behind him, "the remains were not stolen."
Richard had been leaning back on the conference table and now stood and whirled around to face the voice.
It was Jerry. He was standing calmly just inside the door with his hands inside his no doubt expensive black slacks. His face had a somber expression drawn. He seemed genuinely disturbed by the events Richard had just watched.
His mind still reeling as he tried to grasp what was happening. Richard thrust is arm behind him to point at the television.
"This is impossible," he almost shouted. "That body was extracted from ice that was over fifty-thousand years old."
His voice began stammering.
"H-He had no pulse. No brain activity. His metabolism was non-existent. There is no way he could suddenly wake up and walk out of the building!"
Jerry continued to watch him calmly. His reply was barely audible.
"And yet, he did."
Richard lowered his head and held it with his hands.
"I-I can't believe it," he stated meekly.
"Fine," Jerry's tone was firm, "but your belief isn't a prerequisite for what actually is. Now, the reality of the situation is that we have a fifty-thousand year old man up and walking around who's searching for something and will apparently kill to get it."
Richard looked up.
"Searching for something?"
Jerry scowled his disappointment at Richard.
"Weren't you watching?" Jerry scolded. "Instead of killing someone when he first meets them, he was lifting he hand and asking for something."
Remembering the first scene of the tape with Nancy and Michael, Richard recalled the remains lifting his right arm as if holding something and speaking to them. When they didn't answer, the remains became agitated and violent.
Jerry continued.
"We had a linguist take a look at the tape. Since there was no audio, he attempted to read the man's lips as he spoke. The linguist was certain that he was not speaking English though he had no idea what it was the man was speaking. The puzzled look that we saw on the faces of those he spoke to would collaborate this."
Richard couldn't fathom what a man who lived over fifty-thousand years ago would be searching for in today's world. Or why he would want it so badly as to kill for it. Not just kill, that man knew what he was doing when he slaughtered the guards.
The scene in the downstairs hallway sprang into Richard's mind and he recalled when the guards had fired upon the man and he had seemingly caught the bullets. Richard's eye snapped up toward Jerry.
"What is he?"
It was Jerry's turned to be confused. A look of puzzlement creased his brow.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"When he attacked the guards downstairs, they fired at him and I watched as he caught the bullets in his hand. And before that, I swear I saw him walk through a wall."
Understanding washed over Jerry's face and his eyes dropped momentarily to the floor.
"Well," he hesitated, "that depends on your beliefs in the preternatural."
He raised his had back up to look at Richard.
"The question is now, however, what is he searching for?"
Richard's mind continued to boggle over the question. The idea that anyone from an era before civilization could be searching for something in these modern and superficial times was ridiculous.
With sudden insight, Richard's eye's widened.
"His weapon," Richard breathed.
With a slight smile Jerry nodded.
"Where is the dagger, Richard? I know that the Initiative never received it and that the men sent out to retrieve it never returned."
Anger flashed over Richard and he raised and accusing finger toward Jerry.
"You sent those men to kill me! I barley got away with my life!"
Jerry didn't look phased by Richard's hatred.
"I'm sorry, Richard. I had no other choice. The implications of your find were being felt way beyond what you understood. I would have had you killed as soon as you stepped off the plane here in Langley, but I need to know where that dagger is."
Richard hadn't even thought about the weapon after his attack in the cemetery. He couldn't recall the weapon with him after the attack, after that evil with fangs.
"I don't know where it is," Richard finally answered. "Your men attacked me in a cemetery and I dropped it. Then I was running for my life and I haven't seen it."
"So the men from the Initiative where alive when you last saw them?"
Richard remembered the fight and the gun fire, and the sick memory of thrusting the dagger into the spine of one of his attackers.
"No," Richard answered, "there was a fight. Some Englishman arrived out of nowhere and began screaming at the two men you sent and then one was shot and the other…"
Jerry waited, coolly watching him.
Eyes dropping to the floor, Richard finally continued.
"The Englishman killed the other," he lied.
Richard felt Jerry's eyes on him and was certain the Jerry knew what had truly happened.
"I see." He finally stated in his calm voice. "And the dagger?"
Richard looked back up at Jerry, trying to recall exactly what happened.
"The Englishman attacked me and I ran. I had dropped the dagger by then."
"What did this Englishman look like?" Jerry asked.
Richard shuddered at the image of the fanged beast with blonde hair. He still couldn't explain what he had seen and his denial kept him from mentioning the Englishman's gruesome visage to Jerry.
"He was young and his hair was spiked and blonde."
Jerry's faced twisted in a look of annoyance.
"I see." He repeated.
"What's going on here?" Richard asked. "You know more than you're telling me."
Jerry didn't answer right away. Instead he watched Richard with his intense eyes as if he was gauging Richard and his resolve.
"You're right." Jerry confirmed. "There is much more that you don't know. But now, that's not important."
Jerry smirked.
"At least, not important to you."
Richard watched Jerry warily.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"The Initiative, Richard, they're after you. It seems that they don't much like someone killing their men. They've taken their deaths personally and I believe they're coming for you."
Richard was shocked. He had never known anyone to wish him direct harm and now this phantom agency wanted him dead. Those two men in Sunnydale had attacked him first and Richard had killed only in self defense. Richard only felt shameful for having to kill that young man in the sweater but never regret for defending himself. Now, however, he wished that he had never gotten off the plane in Sunnydale.
"They attacked me first, and on your orders! I don't even have any idea what the Initiative is?"
"They were initially setup a few years back as a research facility." Jerry explained. "They're purpose was to research ways to suppress the actions of certain…"
Jerry hesitated with his words, obviously not certain what he felt comfortable telling Richard. He finally smirked and completed his sentence.
"Undesirables. They failed, however. The facilities were over-run and the agency was wiped out. We had yet to move in and claim the area. Eventually the agency was abandoned and left to rot. Then, a few months ago, we began getting reports again. They seemed to have suddenly gained control again and continued their work. We've had several conversations with them and they seemed to take and follow orders, however they won't allow an inspection of their compound. They state that after the incident that closed the agency more than a year ago, security is too important to allow it. Their work is progressing nicely, but they have become very protective and don't like it when one of their trusted and expensively trained workers is killed."
"And now they want me dead?" Richard asked incredulously.
"I believe so, yes." Jerry answered as calm as if they were speaking on the weather.
Richard felt his knees grow week and he slumped down into one of the nearby chairs surrounding the conference table. The black leather felt cool under his fingers as he fell into its soft cushioning. Richard didn't notice this, however, as his mind was too busy trying to sort out everything that had happened in the last two days.
"I can help you, Richard." Jerry spoke.
Richard's head shot up and looked over at Jerry, a bit of hope in his eyes.
"But I need that dagger." Jerry finished.
"What?"
"I need you to head back to Sunnydale and retrieve the dagger before our friend, " Jerry nodded at the television behind Richard, "or the Initiative finds the weapon. Only then can I help you."
"That's bullshit." Richard stated with anger. "You could help me now but you need someone to find that dagger."
"That's correct. I'm glad you understand."
Richard eye's flashed with malice.
"You're the one who got me into this in the first place!" He almost shouted. "Why should I trust you?"
Jerry's barren calmness didn't waver. Richard was frustrated with Jerry's lack of reaction. It was obvious that he knew who was in control in this situation.
"Again, correct. No matter how this all started, Richard, you're still in the middle of it."
He paused as Richard toiled with the truth Jerry had just given him.
"Now, the Initiative has changed and we don't know exactly to what extent. They are curt and evasive with communications so we are not exactly certain what is going on over there. The only thing of which we can be sure is that they are more determined than ever to succeed this time and that their methods have become more ruthless. They will track you down and they will kill you. There is no doubt of that. They only thing you have left is time and it's slowly ticking away. I can help you, but you need to help me first. Return the dagger to me and I'll help you."
Richard watched the table before him as Jerry talked. Thinking of something, his eye's popped up.
"Why did you send the dagger with me to the Initiative in the first place if you don't want them to have it?"
Jerry scowled at the question and his eyes looked away from Richard and toward the wall.
"From the information I had, they were the best possible source for answers. I wasn't pleased with the idea of sending it to them, but I had no choice. Now, however, I realize they can't be trusted."
He looked back toward Richard.
"Will you help me?"
Richard's eyes once again dropped to the black marble of the conference table. It looked as if he, too, was faced with a lack of options. Richard knew that there was no way that he could deal with the Initiative if they were coming for him. Only blind luck had saved him on his last encounter. Plus, there was now this walking menace from long ago free in the world. Richard realized that he wasn't in any way responsible for the deaths incurred by the remains he had been studying, but he still felt guilty at not knowing that something like this was going to happen. How could he, though? How could anyone have known?
He closed his eyes and tried to pretend that this all hadn't happened. Richard wanted nothing more than to be resting comfortably in his bed in his cozy apartment and that his only care was the finalizing of paper work piling up on his little desk. Images of Nancy and Michael frozen against a wall in the lab flashed through his mind. Quickly following them were images of the splatters of blood and broken glass he had found later in that same room.
Richard's eye's slowly opened and reality rushed back in.
"Yes." He spoke meekly.
From L.A., Richard had bought a flight back across the country to Langley. He wasn't quite certain what to do when he got there. He felt a little like he was heading back into the jaws of danger. Getting home seemed more important that anything to Richard at that moment. As if within the confines of his small apartment nothing could harm him. On the flight back to L.A., however, Richard had plenty of time to think about the extreme circumstances in which he had found himself. He finally decided that he had to get back to the laboratory where he worked and warn the rest of his team. If Jerry was still involved with the project, then none of them were safe. After picking up his car in the parking lot at Langley Airport, Richard had driven straight over to his offices. The sky was dark and cloudy as he drove the streets to the office and the closer he got, the more ominous the dark clouds became.
Now, Richard was just passing the guards post into the parking lot outside his building. The post was more heavily guarded than normal. There was another officer in the booth with its operator and each looked a little fidgety. They thoroughly checked Richard's identification when he pulled up and acted uneasy the entire process They required his office badge, his driver's license, and the registration for his car. After that, there was a two minute phone call by the guards up to the building. Finally, they raised the bar and allowed him into the compound. Driving up to the front of the building, Richard pulled into one of the spaces reserved for upper management. Richard was in a hurry and suddenly thought that worrying about trouble over a parking space was a bit silly under the circumstances. As he exited his car, Richard spotted several police vehicles parked directly below the steps up to the main entrance. Their emergency lights were on and rhythmically flashed their blue and red. There were three police cars, none were occupied.
Richard had a moment of panic. Was it possible that they were looking for him?
"Perhaps Jerry had contacted the police and issued a warrant for my arrest." Richard thought.
Richard shook his head and dropped the idea.
"I've been watching too much X-Files."
Richard climbed the stairs to the entrance warily however, watching around him for any sudden movement. Reaching the top of the stairs and seeing the entrance, Richard stopped in his tracks. Glass lay shattered across the concrete outside the entrance. Both of the heavy, glass inlaid doors lay on the concrete several feet from the entrance into the building. Each looked broken and mangled, as if they had been torn off their hinges and tossed aside. Inside beyond the walls of glass that surrounded most of the lobby, Richard saw several police officers in uniform standing at the front security desk. They appeared to be questioning the guard at the desk. Richard continued walking again toward the front entrance. As he stepped cautiously over the broken glass and into the building, Richard saw one of the officers glance up at him. He motioned to a fellow officer next to him and pointed toward Richard. The second officer then stepped away from the guard station and began waling across the lobby toward Richard. Richard watched the man as he approached. Glancing past him and toward the rest of the officers as the guard station, Richard noticed something on the front of the dark marble-looking booth. Realizing what he was seeing, Richard's eyes opened wider. It was a blood stain.
The officer came within a few feet of Richard and held his hand out towards him.
"Stop there, sir." He commanded curtly.
Richard stopped.
"What happened," Richard asked.
The officer lowered his hand and grabbed the grip of the pistol holstered at his side.
"There has been a bit of an incident, sir. Looks like someone broke in and stole a few things." He answered.
"What," Richard responded, disbelieving.
"Do you work here, sir," the officer asked.
"Yes."
Richard then pulled his badge out from under his coat and presented it to the officer. The policeman looked down at the badge then back up at Richard.
"What did they take?" Richard asked as his waited.
"I'm not sure, sir. Where in the building were you heading?"
Richard was heading down stairs and into the underground lab. He wanted to check on his team. For some reason, however, Richard felt it would be dangerous to mention this to the officer.
"I'm heading up to my office," he lied. "It's on the second floor."
The officer nodded in satisfaction.
"Thank you, sir. Just checking. You have a nice night."
With that, the officer turned from Richard and began walking back toward the others at the guard station.
"Was anyone hurt?" Richard asked the officer as he walked away.
The officer flinched at the question and stopped. He didn't answer right away. He then half turned toward Richard and spoke back over his shoulder while looking at the floor.
"I...I'm not sure, sir." He stammered and then hurriedly continued walking away.
Richard watched him for a few moments then began making his way past the opposite side of the guard station and towards the elevators behind it. There was a set of three elevators on each side of the back of the lobby. As Richard approached them, he noticed that one of the elevator doors on the right was open. As he passed the door, Richard glanced inside. He gasped at what he saw. The back, upper left corner of the white elevator car was splattered with blood. It almost completed covered the upper corner and the wall down to the elevator floor. On the floor of the elevator car, Richard saw what looked like a police marker with the letter "H" written upon it. Richard shuddered at the thought of what that marker represented.
"What the hell happened here?" Richard thought. A far away sense of fear brushed the edge of his mind.
As Richard stepped passed the blood stained elevator, he glanced above it and noticed that the green up arrow indicator was lit. Whatever had caused that stain might have come from bellow. The implications worried Richard as the faces of his team flashed through his mind. He stepped up to the elevators on the right side and reached out to push the down arrow set in the plate in between two of the doors. He paused before he hit the button. With a calm motion, Richard turned his head to the right and looked back over his shoulder at the guard station. Richard found the officer which had questioned him at the door watching him. Richard turned to face the elevator call buttons and pushed the up arrow.
Richard took the arriving elevator to the second floor of the building where he stepped off and immediately selected the down arrow directly outside the elevator doors. Once the car arrived, Richard rode it down to its lowest possible level, well beneath the city of Langley. Reaching its destination, the doors opened and Richard stared out of the elevator into the dark end of a long hallway. Looking up at the ceiling, Richard saw that the halogen lights had been broken. The floor below the lights was littered with bits of white glass and plastic. Stepping cautiously from the elevator Richard began a slow walk down the hallway toward the double-doors at the far end. Walking through the darkened end, Richard glanced to the side and saw a dark stain of blood on wall. The stain was low on the wall and ran down to the floor where a larger stain marked where a pool of crimson had recently been. Richard was startled by the sight and glanced around at the rest of the nearby hallway. To his astonishment, he saw several more stains marking the walls. He also noticed what looked like bullet holes riddled in an almost random pattern across the walls and floor. Richard rushed by the gory scene, worry welling up in his chest anew. Reaching the double doors, Richard burst through them and into the adjoining hallway. No one walked the normally busy floor. Richard looked for disturbances similar to those he had just witness. The floor and walls looked as clean as ever. Taking the hallway to the left, Richard soon came to the security elevator leading down into the restricted floors. Richard swiped his badge through the card reader and waited for the system to beep indicating that he needed to next pass the palm and retinal scans. The system did not beep however and Richard was about to swipe his card again when the elevator doors opened. Richard was puzzled. He had never known the security measures to be lifted in any way.
"Perhaps the system was somehow broken during the theft." Richard thought. Then the idea that what the thieves had been after was down in the restricted area popped into his head. His team wasn't the only one working on a project in the labs below so the possibility that the thieves had been after anything Richard was working on was remote. This logic didn't calm Richard down in any way.
With his brow clenched in worry, Richard stepped onto the elevator and punched the button for the floor on which his team was working. The doors closed and the elevator silently slid downwards. Moments later, the elevator rung loudly and doors opened. Richard was immediately greeted by the scene of several more blood stains splattered on the wall of the outside hallway. No one could be seen down either direction of the hallway. It seemed as if the entire building had been evacuated. In a panic, Richard rushed out of the elevator and down the hallway. He soon reached the lab where his team had been examining the ancient dagger. Entering the bright room through the double doors, doors which Richard knew should have been locked with a guard posted outside, Richard stopped just inside the doorway. The room was in shambles. The examining tables had been knocked over and glass was strewn about the floor. Much of the electrical equipment had been shattered and now stood blackened and destroyed. Stains of dried blood were splattered across the floor.
Richard fled the room and continued down the hallway. The hallway curved to the left and Richard moved around the turn at almost a run. Stopping abruptly, Richard stood facing the strong doors to the storage room. Through the small windows in the doors, Richard saw that the room beyond was dark. He stepped over to the console on the side of the door, ready to swipe his badge through the card reader in order to gain entrance. He found the console dark and unresponsive. Confused, Richard reached for the handle on one of the doors and pulled. The door swung smoothly toward him. Still not understanding why security was all but removed, Richard walked into the dark room.
Stepping inside the room, Richard noticed the array of equipment to his right. The equipment was all dark, nothing was functioning. Turning to look at the corner behind him, Richard felt his knees almost buckle. The tank still sat in its corner. However, it sat empty. The thick insulated glass of the front of the tank had been shattered and only a small pool of coolant sat in the bottom. The rest of the coolant had presumably spilled out when the glass had been broken. The remains were nowhere to be found. Richard had the fleeting thought that the tank had somehow broken and that they man's remains had been relocated because of it, but Richard knew this was not the case. For some reason, the remains had been stolen. Richard couldn't understand why. Certainly, the find had great significance, but why were these remains so important that someone had to break into a government compound and kill several people to steal them.
Richard stepped back to the wall and slid to the floor. He thought again about his research team. Some of which had no doubt been in the lab when the break-in had occurred. He hoped that everyone was alright, but the evidence didn't support that hope. Richard buried his head in his hands. He didn't understand what was happening and the stress of the last few days was beginning to take its toll. Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes.
Suddenly, the cell phone in Richard's pocket rang. Its singular high pitched chiming started Richard his head shot up.
The phone rang again.
Trying to calm himself, Richard reached into his coat pocket and pulled the phone out. He hit the keypad and raised the device to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Bateman?"
It was Jerry.
Anger exploded in Richard and he quickly rose to his feet.
"You sonofabitch! What the hell have you done?" Richard yelled into his phone.
"Calm down, Mr. Bateman."
"Calm down?" Richard cried, incredulously. "Calm down? First you try and have me killed and now you do this...break into the lab and steal the remains?"
"I had nothing to do with the loss of the remains, Mr. Bateman. And yes, I did attempt to have you killed. But I had my reasons...reasons which have changed."
"I don't give a shit about your reasons!" Richard yelled. "You can be sure that the director's office will hear about this mess!"
"Fine, tell them." Jerry responded calmly. "In the mean time, I have something I need to show you. Will you meet me in your office upstairs?"
"Meet you? I don't friggin trust you. How do I know that you're not lying to me?"
"If I wanted you dead, Mr. Bateman, I would have killed you as soon as you arrived in Langley. Now, I can partially explain what happened in the lab earlier this evening, but I need you to meet me upstairs."
Richard scowled at his options. He certainly didn't trust Jerry any longer, but it was becoming more and more imperative to Richard by the moment to try and make some sense of the events of the last few days. He knew that sitting alone in his apartment wasn't going to help. Finally, accepting that he had no where else to turn Richard agreed to meet Jerry alone.
Leaving the storage room, Richard made his way down several of the dimly lit hallways. Richard was used to these halls being normally filled with white coat researchers who worked on the various projects housed in the subterranean lab. Now, however, the sound of his footsteps on the pale tile of the floor was the only sound Richard heard as he walked. A subtle feeling of paranoia crept in as he imagined an unidentified stalker following only a few corners behind him. Finally reaching his destination, Richard stood before a door with the word "Security" stenciled on its front. Normally, these doors were inaccessible to everyone but the armed security personnel that constantly roamed the hall. Richard was hoping that with the rest of the doors open to anyone with a badge that this door would also allow him access. Taking his badge in hand, Richard swiped it through the card reader attached next to the heavy door. The indicator on the card reader flashed green and he heard the door click. Richard pulled on the door and it swung open. Stepping inside, Richard found himself in a small locker room. Two lines of almost ceiling high steel lockers ran the length of the walls to Richard's left and right. Bolted to the floor in front of both row of lockers were two lacquered wooden benches. On the far wall opposite the door hung what Richard had come looking for, the firearm cabinet. The cabinet door was a heavy mesh of metal and its lock was a numeric key pad. The cabinet door currently hung open, however. Richard approached the cabinet. He found that it held four black automatic rifles, each standing to the back of the cabinet. Two of the slots used for rifles were currently empty. Next to the rifles at the bottom of the cabinet were slots for what looked like the security officer's standard issue handguns. Reaching down, Richard lifted one out of its slot. The gun was heavy and cold in his hand. Richard hadn't fired a weapon in years. As a research agent for the CIA, Richard had no need to carry a gun like many field agents did. Remembering the basics, however, Richard released the clip which slid out of the bottom of the grip. The clip was fully loaded. Richard slammed the clip back into place and pulled back on the gun's breach, loading a bullet into the barrel. He didn't like weapons much and always felt uncomfortable when he had carried one. Jerry had already attempted to kill him once, however, and Richard wouldn't allow him to try again.
A few minutes later, Richard was stepping off the elevator onto the compounds second floor above ground. The hallways were again dark but Richard was used to this having worked many late hours. Richard had placed the gun in his coat pocket. He had looked for a holster of some type for the weapon before leaving the security room, but found nothing readily available.
Richard cautiously made his way down the cold, dimly lit hallways. His feet echoed off the tile floors, making his approach obvious to anyone but a deaf person. Richard turned a corner and spotted the door to his office down the adjoining hallway. The door stood open and his office light was on. Richard paused for a moment and listened for any sounds of who might be waiting for him. Nothing. He then slowly walked down the hallway toward his door. He tried being as quiet as possible, but his shoes still clicked on the tiles and thwarted his efforts. Finally reaching the lit door, Richard bent his neck around the corner and peered in.
Sitting patently on the side of his desk was Jerry. He was wearing the same formal clothing that Richard had last seen him in. Leaning back on to Richard's desk, Jerry had his hands calmly folded in front of him. Upon seeing Jerry, Richard's anger began to rise. He recognized this man as the man who had ordered his death. Reaching into his coat, Richard pulled the gun out. He held the weapon pointed before him as he turned the corner and entered his office.
As he entered the room, Jerry's head snapped around to spot him. A smile flashed across the thin man's face. He then glanced down and saw the weapon in Richard's hand. The weapon that Richard was currently pointing at him. Jerry sharply stood from the desk and took a step back from Richard.
"I'm just here to help you, Richard." Jerry stated in his always calm tone.
"Don't worry," Richard assured, "this is just for protection. You'll understand if I don't completely trust you."
"I told you, if I wanted you dead you wouldn't have ever made it to the office."
"I guess you'll just have to consider me paranoid." Richard replied. "Okay, tell me what happened downstairs. Who took the remains?"
Jerry smiled.
"I doubt the answer would be believable if I told you." He reached into the pocket of his black coat and pulled something out. It was made of opaque plastic and Richard recognized it as a VHS tape holder.
"This is a tape from the security cameras during the incident. It was confiscated by us before the local police arrived. Its footage from several different camera stations across the building, actually." He paused. "This will answer all your questions."
Jerry then offered the tape before him to Richard. Hesitantly, Richard reached out and snatched the tape from Jerry's hand. He glanced down at the plastic case then back up toward Jerry.
"What happened to the rest of my research team?" Richard asked, almost a whisper.
Jerry's gaze hardened and he took a moment to swallow.
"The tape will show you." He finally answered.
Fear spiked up Richard's back. He was scared by the implications of that statement.
Backing out of his office, Richard continued to point his weapon at Jerry. Once out the door and in the hallway, Richard jerked to his right and almost sprinted down the hallway.
There was a meeting room on this end of the office that was equipped with a VCR, the same meeting room where Richard had given his presentation to Jerry not more than two days ago. Running down the hall with the tape case and the gun in hand, Richard soon reached his destination. He burst through the door and into the room and was plunged into darkness. Richard dropped the gun into his coat pocket and groped along the wall with his hand. He finally found the switch and flipped on the lights. The room was just as he remembered it with its long mahogany table, leather chairs, and plush red carpeting. Rushing across the room to the canvas on the far wall, Richard hit a button on a panel to the side of the canvas. A quiet whirling sound clicked in and the canvas hanging over the wall slowly lifted into the ceiling. Behind the canvas, a large screen television sat in a niche. Next to the screen on a shelf also inlaid in the wall was a VCR. Richard hurriedly popped open the cassette case Jerry had given him and slid the tape into the VCR. He then tapped a button on the bottom of the large television screen and the room slowly lit up with a pale glow. The VCR auto-played after Richard inserted the tape. Now all Richard saw on the screen was the standard television white-noise.
A moment passed and the screen flickered and an image appeared. It was the storage room down below the surface where the remains had been kept. The grainy view was from one of the room corners by the ceiling. It showed almost the entire room. In the center of the image stood the tank and Richard saw that it still held the remains. The was no sound with the picture and only the quiet motor unwinding the tape inside the VCR accompanied Richard's breath. Richard's eyes locked on the double doors on the right of the image. Any moment, Richard expected to see the doors burst open and the face of the thieves that had were there to take the remains. Nothing happened, however. Several minutes went by and nothing happened. Richard stood and walked over to the VCR to hit the controls and forward through until he saw someone. He was about to hit the button when, out of the corner of his eye, Richard saw something move on-screen. Standing directly in front of the screen, Richard turned his attention back to the image. Again, nothing happened. Richard was about to turn and reach for the VCR to rewind the image, when movement happened again. Richard's jaw dropped and his blood drained from his face. The movement had come from inside the tank. He watched as a hand lifted inside the blue liquid of the tank and pressed against the glass. The palm laid flat against the insulated pane. Suddenly, a face jutted out from within the clear blue coolant and up against the glass. Richard gasped and stumbled backwards, catching himself on the table behind him. The face was the stony mask of the remains. Richard continued to watch the image. The man in the tank pressed his forehead against the glass, peering out into the room beyond. The face wasn't completely clear, but Richard swore he saw anger written across it. The face withdrew back into the tank and was lost to the security camera. The tank then jostled and almost tipped over on its side. Then there was calm and Richard squinted at the image looking for a glimpse of the now active remains. Suddenly, the glass front of the tank shattered outward with explosive power, showering the room with deadly shards. Coolant spilled out of the tank through the new opening and splashed across the floor of the storeroom.
Spilling out with coolant, the remains crashed to the storeroom floor. The body landed on its hands and knees. With a quick jerk of his torso, the man stood. His head snapped around looking about the room franticly. A snarl curled the mans lip and his back arched forward like that of a angry wolf. He then almost leapt across the room toward the double doors. The man took an instant to stare out the security doors. Without thinking, Richard hoped that the doors would be able to hold him in. A moment later, the man on the screen thrust his arms at the double doors and they both broke open with a tremendous force. The man vanished from the room.
Richard's mind was wrapped in denial. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had been poking and prodding these remains only days ago. There was no activity. His heart was stopped and there was no electrical activity in the brain. There had been no biological activity whatsoever.
The image on-screen flickered and changed. Richard was now looking at destroyed lab he had come across while downstairs earlier. Only now, the lab was almost pristine. Two figures looked to be working in the lab. One was a long haired technician in a white coat examining something under a microscope. Richard recognized this person as Nancy, one of the members of his team and the last friend he had talked to before leaving for Sunnydale. The other was another technician in a white coat. This technician was a male with very short black hair. His back was facing the security camera so Richard wasn't exactly sure who this was. With wild eyes, Richard watched the image and wondered what this had to do with the activity of the remains. A moment passed as the two technicians worked. Watching Nancy, Richard saw her look up from her work on the table and glance to the left toward the door which sat out of the camera's view. Staring at the door off camera, Nancy's eyes grew wide and she froze in place. A moment later, Nancy spoke something and the tech working near her looked up at her and then turned to face towards the door off camera. As he turned, Richard recognized the technician. It was Michael Qualer. He was a relatively new addition to the team and Richard wasn't very familiar with him. Both stood in their white coats with looks of astonishment across their faces. Then, from the lower portion of the image where one entering from the door would first appear, Richard saw the black haired head of the remains step into view. Richard could only see the top of his head, but he seemed to be walking slowly towards the two technicians. The animated remains towered over the two frightened technicians with his broad shoulders and strong arms. Nancy and Michael began backing away from him and towards the far wall. The remains stop his approached and watched as Nancy and Michael fearfully backed away. Richard then saw the remain's jaw moving and watched as he seemed to began speaking. The faces of the two terrified techs clenched in confusion. The remains continued to speak and then he lifted his hand with a clenched fist gesturing as if holding something. Nancy began shouting, looking at the door off the screen while Michael continued to stare at the man before him. As Nancy continued to shout, Richard saw the muscles of the remains clench and the man opened his mouth to shout. Both Nancy and Michael gripped their heads in pain, covering their ears. The camera shook and Richard saw glass exploded from the direction for the door and inward on the room, showering the three inhabitants with shards. Then the image distorted and flickered into static.
The next image flashed onto the screen and showed the elevator exit at the end of the long hallway at the entrance to the underground labs. Richard remembered the numerous blood stains he had found along the walls of that hallway. The camera position seemed to be on the far wall from the elevator exit. The hallway currently looked unharmed and all of the overhanging lights were intact and working.
Moments into the image, Richard saw someone step into view at the bottom of the image. Richard recognized the long black hair and broad shoulders of the now walking remains. He walked calmly down the hallway toward the elevator doors. He was still naked but Richard gasped when he saw what looked like blood dripping from his hands. The animated remains stepped forward slowly, patiently. As he calmly stepped down the hallway, his head continuously twisted from one side to another, scanning the walls and ceiling.
Richard watched as he stopped in his tracks and his head jerked forward toward the elevator doors. Suddenly the arrival indicator above the elevator lit. The steel doors jarred with movement as they began to open. Watching the doors for only a split second, the remains swiftly bolted to the left toward the wall and disappeared from view. Richard's eye stared with disbelief at what he had just seen. If he hadn't been a practical man, he would have swore he saw the remains disappear behind the wall as if it had been a curtain or wall of water. The elevator doors continued to open and out stepped three men. Richard recognized these men as security officers. All officers were armed and now held their weapons in their hands. Two men held black pistols, but the third officer in back had a large automatic rifle which he held across his chest by the trigger. They looked down the hallway warily then began walking towards the far exit. Richard watched them converse as they slowly traversed the hallway. Their movements were carefully placed and they watched the door at the end of the hallway with scrutiny.
Finally passing halfway down the hallway and passed the point at which the remains disappeared, Richard began to see a distortion in the paint on the left wall. Not watching their rear, the guards seemed unaware as they continued walking. The distortion was bending the white paint on the wall outwards like a bulbous appendage. Richard watched in horror as the distortion formed into the face of the remains. His head and black hair hung out from the wall as if he was a part of it. Slowly the distortion expanded as the remains stepped clear of the paint. Now standing behind the guards, the remains watched with deadly calm as they stepped away from him. Then he spoke. His moth opened and his slim lips subtly moved to form his words. Seeing the man's face, Richard tried to make out what he might be saying but the words were too foreign. At the sound from behind them, the already wary guards snapped around with weapons high and pointed at the remains. From the camera's viewing angle, Richard could only see the upper torso of each of the guards but Richard could still make out the guards shouting at the remains and motioning toward the floor with their weapons.
The remains waited a moment and then spoke again.
His lips moved sharp and dangerously as he spoke this time with his face twisting in anger at every syllable. He lifted his hand into a fisted before him and bounced the wrist in place as if he was holding something. The still shouting guards stopped yelling when they spotted his hand and the blood that dripped from it. In a blaze of light, the third guard, now in front, fired several rounds from his rifle at the remains. Quick as lightning, Richard watched the lifted hand of the remains blur through the air before him. When the firing ceased, the remains stood with his blood soaked hand before him. The guards stared in confusion, their weapons lowering slightly in their disbelief.
The remains opened his hand and something dropped from his palm and too the floor. Panic overtaking them, the guards lifted their weapons and opened fire. Just as the first few shots we fired, the remains vanished from view, as if instantly wiped from the image. The rifle of the front-most guard suddenly rocked upward and sprayed wild shots across the hallway and up the wall. A spray of red coming from out of camera view splattered across the wall to the left as the shots continued. One of the guards appeared flying out from behind the cameras imaged and sailed down the hallway and landed in a heap at the far elevator doors. Flashes of gunfire strobed the hallway and one of the overhanging lights exploded in a hail of glass and plastic. Then the image jarred upward toward the ceiling and then flashed back into snow.
The screen flickered and an new image appeared. This time the image was a split screen between two camera images. On the left the image showed the building's lobby and elevator exits. Clearly shown in the lower portion of the screen was the lobby guard station. Currently, a single guard sat behind the desk. On the right side of the screen, Richard saw a view of the main entrance and the outside stairs leading up to the doors.
The guard at the station sat comfortably behind the desk staring at something blocked from the cameras view. Richard saw the flickering of multicolored lights across the guards face and realized that the guard was probably watching public television.
Down the wide hallway behind the guard station, Richard saw the arrival indicator light up above one of the elevators to the left. Richard was overcome with a sense of dread as he watched the elevator doors. Slowly they slid open. From the camera angel, Richard could not see into the elevator. He watched the emptiness between the open doors expecting the remains to step out and onto the black tile floor of the lobby. Just before the elevator doors closed, Richard saw the bare form of the animated remains step into the lobby. He still held the impenetrable calm manner and walked with curious determination down the hallway from the elevator and toward the guard station.
The guard at the station had not responded to the familiar pang of the elevator's arrival. He continued to watch the television before him. The remains approached behind him and watched with raptor's eyes. Sensing someone approaching, the guard snapped his head around to peer behind him. The guard spotted the naked and blood soaked form walking down the hall behind him and sat startled for a moment. He then leapt from his chair and drew his sidearm out from its holster on his belt. He held the weapon up before him and towards the remains. The remains didn't waiver from his approach.
Seeing that his threat was not being heeded, the guard backed around the front of the guard station and tried to keep the round marble station between him and the remains. The remains walked up to the marble and stopped, watching the guard. Confused, the guard began shouting at the remains. Richard saw his mouth opening wide with each word. His posture suggested that he was issuing commands. The remains didn't seem to respond except to lift his right hand palm closed before him as if he was holding something. He then spoke with calm form. The guard stopped his shouting and stared at the remains in confusion. Then, the guard noticed the drying blood caked over his hand. His eyes drew wide and his muscles clenched. With a flash from the muzzle, a shot fired from the pistol held in the guard's hand. Watching the remains, Richard blinked at what he saw. Before the shot, the remains had been holding right his hand outstretched before him with the palm closed. Now, however, his hand was lifted over his left shoulder with the closed fist facing outward. Richard hadn't taken his eyes off the remains and had not seen him move his arm. It was just suddenly there.
The remain's face quickly clenched in fury. His mouth opened and he shouted something forceful. He then brought his right arm down on the marble of the desk in front of him. Astonishingly, the marble exploded under his hit. The marble block instantly crumbled and cast a thin layer of dust into the air as it cracked. The guard stood with his weapon angled lower and a look of disbelief on his face. He lifted the gun again, no doubt to continue firing, but the remains sharply lifted his right arm still held over the broken tile of marble. The guard suddenly launched from where he was standing and flew across the lobby. He struck the far wall and jarred with the impact. The gun slipped from his fingers. He didn't fall to the floor, however. Not understanding why, the guard hung there a foot off the ground, seemingly attached to the wall. The remains slowly walked from around the station and across the floor toward the guard floating on the wall. Richard could now only see the remains from the rear but could still see that he spoke something to the guard while standing before him. The guard did not respond and only rolled his head deliriously from side to side. After a moment the remain's left arm shot up with incredible speed and griped the guard by the neck. Then, with just a flick of his wrist, he sent the guard sailing through the air back toward the guard station. Richard watched as he saw the guard make contact with the marble head first. The image made Richard flinch in pain and shock. A shower of blood sprayed from the guards head and onto the marble before slumping unmoving to the tiled floor.
The remains watched the guard's body with heated anger flashing in his eyes. The muscles in his arms were clenched and his fingers were wrapped into fists at his side. He then looked off from the body and toward the front doors. Moving downward and off the lower edge of the left image, Richard watched on the right image for the remains to exit the building. To Richard's amazement, the front door suddenly burst from then hinges and out onto the concrete before the stairs. The glass from the doors and surrounding windows exploded outward in a shower of glinting light. The remains stepped out from the build through the broken glass. He seemed unworried about his feet being lacerated by the countless shards of glass. Seeing the outside, he stopped. Richard saw a look of confusion pass over the face of the remains. Scanning the stairs and the parking lot beyond, the remains calmly stepped down the steps and off the image. The image flickered to snow and then blacked out.
Richard could do nothing but stare at the blank television in disbelief. This was insane. Those remains had been pulled out from under five hundred meters of solid ice. Richard had personally spent several hours in the same room with him performing tests and baffling over his very existence. Now those remains were up and walking around and, apparently, very angry.
"As you can see," a voice came from behind him, "the remains were not stolen."
Richard had been leaning back on the conference table and now stood and whirled around to face the voice.
It was Jerry. He was standing calmly just inside the door with his hands inside his no doubt expensive black slacks. His face had a somber expression drawn. He seemed genuinely disturbed by the events Richard had just watched.
His mind still reeling as he tried to grasp what was happening. Richard thrust is arm behind him to point at the television.
"This is impossible," he almost shouted. "That body was extracted from ice that was over fifty-thousand years old."
His voice began stammering.
"H-He had no pulse. No brain activity. His metabolism was non-existent. There is no way he could suddenly wake up and walk out of the building!"
Jerry continued to watch him calmly. His reply was barely audible.
"And yet, he did."
Richard lowered his head and held it with his hands.
"I-I can't believe it," he stated meekly.
"Fine," Jerry's tone was firm, "but your belief isn't a prerequisite for what actually is. Now, the reality of the situation is that we have a fifty-thousand year old man up and walking around who's searching for something and will apparently kill to get it."
Richard looked up.
"Searching for something?"
Jerry scowled his disappointment at Richard.
"Weren't you watching?" Jerry scolded. "Instead of killing someone when he first meets them, he was lifting he hand and asking for something."
Remembering the first scene of the tape with Nancy and Michael, Richard recalled the remains lifting his right arm as if holding something and speaking to them. When they didn't answer, the remains became agitated and violent.
Jerry continued.
"We had a linguist take a look at the tape. Since there was no audio, he attempted to read the man's lips as he spoke. The linguist was certain that he was not speaking English though he had no idea what it was the man was speaking. The puzzled look that we saw on the faces of those he spoke to would collaborate this."
Richard couldn't fathom what a man who lived over fifty-thousand years ago would be searching for in today's world. Or why he would want it so badly as to kill for it. Not just kill, that man knew what he was doing when he slaughtered the guards.
The scene in the downstairs hallway sprang into Richard's mind and he recalled when the guards had fired upon the man and he had seemingly caught the bullets. Richard's eye snapped up toward Jerry.
"What is he?"
It was Jerry's turned to be confused. A look of puzzlement creased his brow.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"When he attacked the guards downstairs, they fired at him and I watched as he caught the bullets in his hand. And before that, I swear I saw him walk through a wall."
Understanding washed over Jerry's face and his eyes dropped momentarily to the floor.
"Well," he hesitated, "that depends on your beliefs in the preternatural."
He raised his had back up to look at Richard.
"The question is now, however, what is he searching for?"
Richard's mind continued to boggle over the question. The idea that anyone from an era before civilization could be searching for something in these modern and superficial times was ridiculous.
With sudden insight, Richard's eye's widened.
"His weapon," Richard breathed.
With a slight smile Jerry nodded.
"Where is the dagger, Richard? I know that the Initiative never received it and that the men sent out to retrieve it never returned."
Anger flashed over Richard and he raised and accusing finger toward Jerry.
"You sent those men to kill me! I barley got away with my life!"
Jerry didn't look phased by Richard's hatred.
"I'm sorry, Richard. I had no other choice. The implications of your find were being felt way beyond what you understood. I would have had you killed as soon as you stepped off the plane here in Langley, but I need to know where that dagger is."
Richard hadn't even thought about the weapon after his attack in the cemetery. He couldn't recall the weapon with him after the attack, after that evil with fangs.
"I don't know where it is," Richard finally answered. "Your men attacked me in a cemetery and I dropped it. Then I was running for my life and I haven't seen it."
"So the men from the Initiative where alive when you last saw them?"
Richard remembered the fight and the gun fire, and the sick memory of thrusting the dagger into the spine of one of his attackers.
"No," Richard answered, "there was a fight. Some Englishman arrived out of nowhere and began screaming at the two men you sent and then one was shot and the other…"
Jerry waited, coolly watching him.
Eyes dropping to the floor, Richard finally continued.
"The Englishman killed the other," he lied.
Richard felt Jerry's eyes on him and was certain the Jerry knew what had truly happened.
"I see." He finally stated in his calm voice. "And the dagger?"
Richard looked back up at Jerry, trying to recall exactly what happened.
"The Englishman attacked me and I ran. I had dropped the dagger by then."
"What did this Englishman look like?" Jerry asked.
Richard shuddered at the image of the fanged beast with blonde hair. He still couldn't explain what he had seen and his denial kept him from mentioning the Englishman's gruesome visage to Jerry.
"He was young and his hair was spiked and blonde."
Jerry's faced twisted in a look of annoyance.
"I see." He repeated.
"What's going on here?" Richard asked. "You know more than you're telling me."
Jerry didn't answer right away. Instead he watched Richard with his intense eyes as if he was gauging Richard and his resolve.
"You're right." Jerry confirmed. "There is much more that you don't know. But now, that's not important."
Jerry smirked.
"At least, not important to you."
Richard watched Jerry warily.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"The Initiative, Richard, they're after you. It seems that they don't much like someone killing their men. They've taken their deaths personally and I believe they're coming for you."
Richard was shocked. He had never known anyone to wish him direct harm and now this phantom agency wanted him dead. Those two men in Sunnydale had attacked him first and Richard had killed only in self defense. Richard only felt shameful for having to kill that young man in the sweater but never regret for defending himself. Now, however, he wished that he had never gotten off the plane in Sunnydale.
"They attacked me first, and on your orders! I don't even have any idea what the Initiative is?"
"They were initially setup a few years back as a research facility." Jerry explained. "They're purpose was to research ways to suppress the actions of certain…"
Jerry hesitated with his words, obviously not certain what he felt comfortable telling Richard. He finally smirked and completed his sentence.
"Undesirables. They failed, however. The facilities were over-run and the agency was wiped out. We had yet to move in and claim the area. Eventually the agency was abandoned and left to rot. Then, a few months ago, we began getting reports again. They seemed to have suddenly gained control again and continued their work. We've had several conversations with them and they seemed to take and follow orders, however they won't allow an inspection of their compound. They state that after the incident that closed the agency more than a year ago, security is too important to allow it. Their work is progressing nicely, but they have become very protective and don't like it when one of their trusted and expensively trained workers is killed."
"And now they want me dead?" Richard asked incredulously.
"I believe so, yes." Jerry answered as calm as if they were speaking on the weather.
Richard felt his knees grow week and he slumped down into one of the nearby chairs surrounding the conference table. The black leather felt cool under his fingers as he fell into its soft cushioning. Richard didn't notice this, however, as his mind was too busy trying to sort out everything that had happened in the last two days.
"I can help you, Richard." Jerry spoke.
Richard's head shot up and looked over at Jerry, a bit of hope in his eyes.
"But I need that dagger." Jerry finished.
"What?"
"I need you to head back to Sunnydale and retrieve the dagger before our friend, " Jerry nodded at the television behind Richard, "or the Initiative finds the weapon. Only then can I help you."
"That's bullshit." Richard stated with anger. "You could help me now but you need someone to find that dagger."
"That's correct. I'm glad you understand."
Richard eye's flashed with malice.
"You're the one who got me into this in the first place!" He almost shouted. "Why should I trust you?"
Jerry's barren calmness didn't waver. Richard was frustrated with Jerry's lack of reaction. It was obvious that he knew who was in control in this situation.
"Again, correct. No matter how this all started, Richard, you're still in the middle of it."
He paused as Richard toiled with the truth Jerry had just given him.
"Now, the Initiative has changed and we don't know exactly to what extent. They are curt and evasive with communications so we are not exactly certain what is going on over there. The only thing of which we can be sure is that they are more determined than ever to succeed this time and that their methods have become more ruthless. They will track you down and they will kill you. There is no doubt of that. They only thing you have left is time and it's slowly ticking away. I can help you, but you need to help me first. Return the dagger to me and I'll help you."
Richard watched the table before him as Jerry talked. Thinking of something, his eye's popped up.
"Why did you send the dagger with me to the Initiative in the first place if you don't want them to have it?"
Jerry scowled at the question and his eyes looked away from Richard and toward the wall.
"From the information I had, they were the best possible source for answers. I wasn't pleased with the idea of sending it to them, but I had no choice. Now, however, I realize they can't be trusted."
He looked back toward Richard.
"Will you help me?"
Richard's eyes once again dropped to the black marble of the conference table. It looked as if he, too, was faced with a lack of options. Richard knew that there was no way that he could deal with the Initiative if they were coming for him. Only blind luck had saved him on his last encounter. Plus, there was now this walking menace from long ago free in the world. Richard realized that he wasn't in any way responsible for the deaths incurred by the remains he had been studying, but he still felt guilty at not knowing that something like this was going to happen. How could he, though? How could anyone have known?
He closed his eyes and tried to pretend that this all hadn't happened. Richard wanted nothing more than to be resting comfortably in his bed in his cozy apartment and that his only care was the finalizing of paper work piling up on his little desk. Images of Nancy and Michael frozen against a wall in the lab flashed through his mind. Quickly following them were images of the splatters of blood and broken glass he had found later in that same room.
Richard's eye's slowly opened and reality rushed back in.
"Yes." He spoke meekly.