Meanwhile. (Feat. Sara Pezzini, Terry Sheridan, Kenneth Irons and Ian
Nottingham)
Sara had struck a deal with the devil. She sat in Iron's massive parlor mulling over the past night's events. Sara had awoken in a bedroom. one of Ken's guest quarters. Her wounds were healed thanks to the Witchblade, but she was still quite weakened. After a much changed Irons invited her to a late supper, she realized that he had played her. His right hand was restored, but to what means she had no idea. Kenneth let her know that the Yakuza hitmen were after Lara due to her romantic involvement with Estacado. that the family leaders wanted retribution for a hit the mobster had done. Kenneth had ties, big ties within the world of organized crime and he offered a trade to the detective. In exchange for Lara's life (which he promised to arrange) he wanted to ensure that Sara would stand by his side. It was a double edged sword. Unknown to Pezzini, Nottingham was a former member of the Japanese crime family and the seven figure salary he paid to Ian was nothing in comparison to the price he had paid the family for his services. As she blankly stared out toward the fireplace her green eyes, usually alive and vibrant looked muted and defeated. Kenneth strolled past the Witchblade gallery, a smug look upon his face as he neared his office. At last his collection would be complete. Not only had he regained his Witchblade, but the true wielder to boot.
A short Asian man joined the taller Brit and moved slightly holding a briefcase dressed in a partial suit. "Business as usual no, Mister Sheridan?" form moved as both walked into the alley past the street lamp meeting place. "Unfortunately...even on my ruddy holiday, I've to work." There was a chuckle from the short man "Ah, downfalls of being tied to the Tomb Raider." Terry's nose wrinkled slightly. "Women always seem more trouble when sought after." Sheridan followed after the man as the entered a empty warehouse. "Listen Lo, I'd rather not get into my troubles with Lara Croft right now." The black haired man gave a nod before moving to the table while two other larger men moved searching him. Sheridan stood with his arms out and rolled his eyes slightly. "Lo, you know I don't go anywhere without a gun." The two nodded their head to him as he moved to the table. "Old habit." The former spy set one of his SIGs onto the table top as he sat. and they began conducting business. "Assassination attempts, hmm." His brow perked in interest while he leaned forwards. "Well, as I figure it, Mate.. things can never be as simple as they seem." There was a click sound of the briefcase being opened and a manila folder was taken out slid across to Sheridan. "Here is everything you asked for. Have you kept your end?" the Brit moved pulling out the envelope handing it over "I'm not like some of those Yankee blokes you deal with, mate." Moving he pulled the folder closer and opened it thumbing through things and gave a nod. "How's Lin been holding up?" things were taken from the folder and tucked into his inner jacket pocket. " You have enough women troubles, as is, Mister Sheridan.. no need to add hers to them." hands moved up in almost joking submission. "All right, mate, all right." There was a bit of a smirk pulling against his lips. Standing he caught a set of keys being tossed to him, putting the pistol back. A crate was opened to an all black Ducatti and he moved "Sheridan. One more thing." Stopping he turned looking over his shoulder while Lo handed him a slip of paper. "Talk to Chang, everything else you had requested will be ready there." There was a nod as the ex-spy kicked his leg over the bike and straddled it. Pulling on a black helmet he left the guard up a moment. "Pleasure as always. And you'll find everything in order on the account." His started the bike and walked slightly while it was going and the warehouse garage door was opening. "Watch your back, my friend." Pulling down the face guard he revved the bike and slowly let go of the clutch giving it a bit more and peeled out of the alley onto the street. He and the bike moved in and out of the traffic heading to the larger skyscraper buildings of the city, and Irons Offices.
Kenneth Irons was a monster, though not without compassion he knew what it was to capture creatures like Pezzini. Although she had promised him dominance and servitude he knew all too well what it was like to have your pet bite the hand that fed you. Take Ian Nottingham, although Ken had offered him a generous salary a beautiful home in which to live. every comfort that unappreciative man had betrayed him. Joining with Pezzini to try and strike him down. It was pathetic really, Irons had beaten him literally one handed, tossing his broken body from the balcony like a rag doll. Part of him relished the sensation of murder, ah yes if it hadn't been for that bitch Pezzini he would be wielding the blade right now instead of that common piece of street trash. The assertive stride in which he walked described his ego to a letter. Although his hair was silver he didn't look old, in fact his face seemed almost too young for someone so intelligent. The cut of his Armani Suit proudly denoted that this was a man who lived a lifestyle most dreamed about. 'Amazing how you miss the little things in life, once their gone.' He thought pouring a glass of scotch. Meanwhile in the vast lounge, Sara paced back and forth. She felt like a caged animal her fists clenching and unclenching as she cursed herself for this decision. Could she sit idly by and watch Lara get killed? Hell no, but to agree to let Irons' oversee the fate of the Witchblade. it was almost too much for her to take in. This wasn't a lover, nor a partner. Although both of which Sara valued. Lara was the closest thing she had to family, the sister for her Julie never had been. 'True both of them have a knack for lock picking,' she smiled touching her fingers to her lips in the memory. This was ridiculous; the detective had calls to make. Arrangement to clear out her apartment, a job to quit. as much as she loathed being here a nagging voice in the back of her head told her to fuck em all and just leave, run. She shut it out her eyes casting toward the door. This place was wired with cameras, part of her knew he was watching. probably from the office and this made her fists clench.
As he moved through the traffic he turned the bike moving easily in between the cars and taxies that line New York's streets. Then he saw the rise of the building and slowed the bike as he pulled into its drive and then down to the underground parking. The former spy moved and shifted after stopping the bike pulling a small card from his pocket. One of the -gifts- he'd received. As much as Sheridan kept saying he was an ex-spy, the lest he believed it especially now. Silently the card was slipped into the security and a service elevator door opened while he stepped in. letting it rise a floor and he pressed the stop button. Moving his form crouched slightly before he pulled himself easily up through the top exit. The doors just opened for new people when he closed the top. Moving slightly he slid some thick gloves onto his hands and grasped the other cables in the shaft letting his form fall slightly off the elevator as it began moving up once more. And he moved down. Getting close to the bottom he dropped to his feet and pried open the doors slipping into the tiled ground of the service room. Sheridan had watched everything for a few days even took in research about the building. Iron's would be at his manor offices, with Sara some where within the midst. Though Sheridan had little idea of this. Eyes scanned over large metal breakers and a few electrical and security systems. He moved opening on of the locked boxes and changed the feed of the cameras. Now in the hallways and offices he'd be walking through the fed was cut, to be replaced by still frames of the empty halls and earlier prerecorded data of the system. Putting a small device on the sprinkler systems he moved and pulled a dingy service jumpsuit on over his clothing. This time he took the stairs up a few floors before pressing a button on a band attached to his wrist. Sprinkler systems starting going off all over the building and he slipped into an empty elevator to the top most levels. The receptions stopped him, as he explained he was there to fix the problem stating the systems was giving theses offices as the origin of the problem. People filed into the elevator with soggy paper and wet hair dos. And Sheridan moved straight to Iron's office. He moved easily though the office, which unlike the others had been kept from the sprinkler system go off. And fingers moved though papers while leaving things in order. There was a slight grin as he found the files he was looking for and took out a small camera, snapping pictures of them before moving over to the computer. Working a while longer he tucked a small CD away and stood. "So, the bloke 'as Sara, 'as he." Moving everything was left just the way it had been and he pressed the button again and the water stopped. He took the stairs all the way down discarding the jumpsuit as he went, stepping back in the service area just to switch over the fed once again and grab the small box before he was back to his bike. There was a cheeky smirk about him as he straddled the bike once more, pulling on the helmet. As he exited the parking garage he pulled the bike up on its back wheel before speeding off with a blaring car horn after him for having gone on the wrong side of the road. Now the British Spy was off to find the New York Detective, even if only to check her well being. Lara would have probably shot him, were he to play 'Hero' without her.
With a grumble she exited the parlor and reentered the bedroom. In the span of a few hours Kenneth had filled the sparse room with many things, clothing, paintings, and a few other oddities. She paused for a moment at the vanity and picked up a hair clip. Barefoot and dressed in a pair of drawstring pants and a tank top Sara almost looked at home here. It couldn't have been further from the truth. Everything was very cold and very beautiful but she didn't want to touch anything. It was like living in a museum, for a person like Sara a prison. The detective paused, spying a glance at herself in the mirror. "Quitter." Her voice was harsh and dejected. She opened the twin French doors and stepped out onto the veranda, overlooking Central Park. Funny, Sara had lived here in New York all her life and although she knew that here in the big apple the crime was devastating at this height it was quiet beautiful. The brunette dragged her nails though her hair, drawing the long locks up into a twisted bun affixing it with the silver clip. A long breath worked in and out of her lungs as her hands gripped the veranda's railing. Gripping the railing tightly her knuckles turned white from the effort. 'She knew why Nottingham had brought her here, and it saddened her to think that was but a glimpse of the life Ian had lived. Perhaps it was a less of two evils. At least while she was here she wasn't getting anyone she cared about shot, or stabbed. God knows what Terry must think about all of this. The first time she saw her unsheathe the Witchblade it damn near killed someone, hell it almost consumed her. Never again could she let things get that badly out of hand again, her mind recoiled in horror at the potential of the weapon. As she stared out over the green trees of Central Park, a light breeze played at the strands of hair that didn't make it into her bun, tickling at the sides of her neck.
Irons sat in his private office mulling over the plan. At a moment's notice he could have a dozen armed guards in the penthouse his little prize pinned down and sedated, but he wanted to personally break her spirit, wear her down and condition her. It had almost worked with his ex-wife Danette Boucher, if the blade hadn't rejected her. Though the results of his experimentations on Dannete were a failure it was not without its positive side. The intimate knowledge that things could be altered and manipulated was his congenial torture. The two girls had played things just as he intended. The ruse with the Egyptian Book of the Dead, was the perfect distraction from such a small thing. His fingertips flipped the small lilac gem into his palm as he smirked. All this effort to stop me from stealing the "Book of the Dead" honestly if he wanted such a trivial thing he would have it. No. this was what he was after; A small gem virtually undetectable among the half a dozen stolen artifacts from the British Museum. Ah things were going exactly as he wanted. Grey hair cleanly brushed back from his face fell slightly forward as he leaned down to gaze upon the treasure.
Terry now had information neither woman had, the once Iron's kept confined within the computer and offices. Yet still something wasn't sitting right with him. It was fishy, that's what it was. His hands gripped the handles of the bike, index and middle moving over the clutch as the toe of his boot moved pressing down shifting gears. The bike revved and peeled slightly as he took a turn. Just as Lara, Terry almost seemed to treat the road as a playground often swerving out of way of other cars. Horns would often sound when the bike would cross onto the wrong side of the road heading towards the oncoming cars, as if a deadly game of chicken. Sheridan could handle a bike well and his body pulled to one side and the bike followed now up on the sidewalks. "Watch it!" a hot dog vendor shouted as he pulled his cart out of the way of the bike just in time. There was a construction crew just ahead and a large gap in the concert cars being detoured away. If one could have seen under that helmet they would have seen his smirk and the roguish bad boy moved the bike pulled slightly back up once again onto a plank. Now the bike moved over the plank and the sand a construction worker ducking, as the bikes tires spun in the air just above him. Easily the bike landed back on the asphalt and he adjusted to it zipping around a large truck. Now the green of Central Park was coming into view. He'd sat there once, watching over Iron's place while he was still shadowing him closely at the start of the whole game. Now he was drawing closer to it. The bike was once more on the sidewalk now under the blue and white stripped awning of a New York Pizza place. Moving off the bike he glanced around, turning into the alleyway. Booted foot placed half way up part of the brick wall on the pizza place side and he moved hands out stretched as he gripped the bottom rung of the fire escape. Muscles tightened pulling his form up easily against the metal. He was all too used to things like that. Most of his time in Prison was spent doing reveres push-ups against the cage like roof. The accent up was easy once he was using his feet as well and he lifted himself over the top. Eyeing the distance he backed up slightly before moving towards the edge his foot hit against the ledge and pushed clearing the gap of the buildings He was perhaps 4 places away from that Iron owned. The land from there split and the 5th avenue styled homes stopped where Iron's land began. Moving once again over the roof he slipped his hands into his pocket pulling out a small ring of keys, to the door on the roof. Now with it unlocked he moved in and down on flight to another door. He used the other two keys to get in. the area was small but full, on the table was a few monitors and a computer system. Since he and the girls never quite got the chance to get into tap the phones the former spy set up his own bit of equipment. For being a British Spy, he had quite a few ties. Sitting down he put the CD into the computer and started working on it. A brow arched it looked like a partial plan. Thus far uncompleted, he needed the other half to fully decipher it and he figured it was in Iron's own home. He scribbled some things and moved attaching the small camera to a dock now typing in things as the computer pulled the images from it. Lips pursed slightly and he moved the chair rolling over the wood floor to the monitors. Eyes scanned for a moment and stopped. Moving he had the camera on that was focused on one of the veranda zoom. "Hullo, luv.." a brow arched slightly. So she was indeed there, Sara Pezzini. Detective, and wielder of the Witchblade. Now to get into see her for a spot and giver her something. He rolled the notes into a small tube, along with his cell number, and closed it. It would be tricky getting close without breaching the security's systems and guards. Thinking his fingers rubbed slightly over his shoulder which was bandaged. But he was used to it. Still how to get into Pezzini. "Bloody 'ell.. that wire tap would have come mighty handy right 'bout now." Moving he gathered some tapping equipment and shifted wrapping it and putting it into an envelope along with the small tube. There was no structure in their system really. After all Lara was more a shot from the hip kind of gal, and he a shot first, ask questions later. Lara knew how to contact him but he'd never spent any real time with Sara to get her any information. He doubted Irons would be as quick to release Sara as Jackie had been with Lara, so something from Central Park wouldn't work His half thought idea wouldn't work. And he ran a hand through his hair. What he really needed was to talk to her, and something coded would work as well. Now he exited the small room and locked it all up heading back up to the roof with the package. He needed to think, and his stomach growled slightly. Might as well stop for a bite.. might help his mind work out his small dilemma. Stepping into the Pizza place he order a small and sat down in a booth near the window watching, while the package was tucked away inside his jacket.
He looked out to see Sara on the veranda, and the natural energy that she always seem to have with her. Ian sat looking to her out on the veranda, then shifted his gaze to Irons office, his eyes narrowing as he looked to the door. Something was going to have to come to an apex soon. It was only a matter of time, really, before he confronted Irons and ended his life. Then, he could be free, and Sara could be happy again. He stands from his sitting position, then moves out to the veranda, gently opening the door, then closing it behind him, as he looks out to her. He holds his head somewhat high, as he looks to her, and then starts to walk forward. He gently strides over to her side, as he looks out to the city. "It's going to be a cold night." He states, as he doesn't even look to her, but just to out over the city. It was weird to see her like this, so devoid of something that he didn't know how to replace. He had killed so many, in her name and for her honor yesterday, and yet she wasn't exactly thrilled with him. He shouldn't have brought her back to Irons, that was mistake number one. Mistake number two, could possibly have been to leave her side, and go after Estacado. That was another matter that was going to need resolving sometime. He hadn't lost, but he hadn't won either, and that was bothering him. "Sara...I...about yesterday..." He begins, his eyes, closing as he tilts his head towards her. Nothing came out after that. Was there really anything he could say?
Letting go of the railing she walked closer, leaning her hips against the iron railing and supporting balustrades. Stretching her arms out wide, Sara took in the breeze as it played over the cotton of her tank top, and pressed the thin material of her drawstring pants tight against the front of her legs. Pools of green and bisecting gold rolled back as she leaned further against the cool metal. Toying with the idea, Sara wondered if she fell from this height. Would the Witchblade save her? Or would she be nothing but a smear on the street, another body to identify? The honking and steady drone of traffic was all about her, dulling her senses as she was left with only her inner thoughts to echo in her head. Could she love the truth more then the mystery of the Witchblade? The detective instincts wanted so badly to know all of the secrets of her symbiotic weapon, and as her thoughts trailed to the gallery a few rooms behind her she knew that Kenneth held more of those secrets then she could possibly imagine. Years of study. Perhaps her dreams told her the truth. Gravity kicked in and she felt herself nearly fall. Gasping Sara drew back her breath suddenly quick as her heart leapt into her throat. Her rouge stained lips were shaking as she drew herself back from the ledge. Gasping again, the brunette bumped straight into the silent figure of Ian Nottingham. She spun quickly her eyes alive with surprise. Two perfectly angled eyebrows raised as her face conveyed her startled emotions. "Dear Christ! Do you always have to sneak up on me like that?!" She swallowed clenching her jaw tight. "I don't want to talk about yesterday. It's clear that I'm better off here. where no one else can get hurt because of my mistake."
Sheridan rested his cheek upon the knuckles of his hand watching outside what was he to do? Things were getting more and more complicated. How can you stop something you have no control over. His pizza araived and he picked up a piece eating it idly as he thought. What sort of demented plans had Iron got up his sleeve. But he knew as many questions they asked, they wouldn't like the answer. He'd kept busy all day working on things. And as he had said last night to Lara during their row he was only staying for Sara. But it hadn't been entirely true. Brows twitched slightly thinking. He was supposed to meet her that night, along with Jackie. He sneered while starting on another piece of pizza. He wasn't keen about having to work with that man at all. If anything he would have rather worked alone just as he was doing now. Stomach stopped growing as the last two slices of pizza were left upon the tray and he still had no answers as to how he'd get into see Sara. Perhaps he was going to have to take out the front guards and sneak in. Then again Lara was devising a plan of her own and who knew what that involved. Feet carried him back outside after leaving tip and he moved to his newly acquired motorcycle. At least now he'd pulled some of his own strings and gotten some useful equipment. The engine purred slightly when he stopped near the gates of Iron's place, watching looking up across the gardens. Was she still there still standing on the veranda? Eyes focused and it seemed she was, but with someone else. Placing once foot on the ground he steadied himself before glancing at his wrist watch. Lips pursed slightly as he revved the bike up some its tires moving as he lifted his foot from the ground pulling away from the front.
Kenneth tucked the little secret back into his pocket and stood. As he carried the tumble filled with amber scotch at the rip he passed by a small table adorned with photographs. His eye caught particular black and white of himself with the late JFK and he smirked. No one, not even the president was safe if Irons so desired. This photo was taken at the height of the Cuban missile crisis. The infamous two weeks when the American Government feared a nuclear war with Russia. Perhaps the cold war was worse then the active machine of direct confrontation. With a cold war everyone was looking for the spy, the informant that would sell their secrets to the highest bidder. The billionaire ran his fingertip across the edge of the frame wiping the nearly undetectable dust from its surface before her exited the room. "Sara darling?" he called from the hall, closing the distance toward the parlor. His footfalls echoed though the massive room as he neared the bar. "Would you come here for a moment?" Kenneth knew she was outside on the balcony, ever watchful of her movements though his closed circuit surveillance system, he noted her location before exiting the paneled office.
Pezzini stood with Nottingham her frame rigid and restrained. As she stood in the open air she noted the coolness that Nottingham had mentioned, the skin on her bare arms standing out in hundreds of goose pimples. She couldn't look at him right now. Not after the carnage that she had witnessed at Estacado's Dojo. Her eyes looked anywhere but to him, at the sound of a motorcycle kicking up she casually glanced toward the din. It was pure habit for a motor head like Sara, and she found her eyes staring straight into the face of a very familiar face. Just as she caught Terry's face her mouth dropped into a surprised O at the call from Irons. "Excuse me, Ian" she spoke low. Turning away her head glanced back briefly as they cast to Ian and then more stealthily to Sheridan. With that she vanished into the bedroom and meandered back into the parlor to greet Ken.
On the outside Sheridan had his own eyes and ears set up, but when it came to the inside of Iron's place he was deaf and blind, so to speak. From everything he gathered, Iron was a force to be weary of, one couldn't go storming the castle. The spy knew this. He caught the brief glance from the detective before he was moving away. But something struck. Nottingham. Sure situations between the Sheridan and Nottingham were much like the one between he and Jackie, if not slightly worse. He had his information on each he was now dealing with. Some more than others, but still it kept the Brit informed more than anything. And that, that was a high card to hold. It was a sticky situation. Somehow he wanted to try to get to Sara before he met up with Lara, it would at least be a sort of heads up. And would possibly keep the Tomb Raider from pulling something stupid, like her taking a shot from Jackie. The bike and owner moved to the other side of the property and away slightly while he waited. The purr of the engine slowing and finally nothing as he turned it off. Sara knew he was about, at least it was a start. But with Iron's keeping close watch on her, there wasn't much he could do. There was only so much he could do as of that point in time. Trying something more too soon might clue in Irons. Moving his jaw slightly he pulled off the helmet setting it on the bike and opportunity happened to strike. If not by fluke. A delivery van had come up from the street were he was, windows down and the former spy listened to conversation as they stopped. "Well, Mickey I think it this large one round the corner here." It was chancy, but he had to take it. Moving he dropped his elbows onto the side door. " 'Scuese me Gents. Sorry." The man close to him lifted an eyebrow "For what?" he gave a cheeky smile "Well, for this of course." He dropped a can inside the cab and it started filling with smoke. Both men coughed as he moved back away. There was the sound of the horn as the driver dropped his head onto the wheel and the other dropped against the side. "Only for a moment, mates.." moving he opened the sliding door of the van and the other allowing it to vent slightly before he got in pulling on of their shirts leaving them leaned up against the building. He took the id badge and pulled the knife from his pocket fiddling slightly he made a small slice and was able to put a small of his own in. picking up the hat he pulled it on and glanced over the clip board. A enveloped package for Kenneth Irons. Still he had his doubts on how well it would actually work. Starting the van up he rolled it slowly round the corner and up to the guard at the front gates. "Package for Mister Irons." His British accent was replaced with a rather New York one. Though it still held its hint and bits sounded more Jersey than New York.
The brunette walked gracefully toward the debonair billionaire. Her bare feet took in the coolness of the marble tiles. It was almost sickening the way Ken's eyes watched her movements. The Billionaire shared a knowing glance, his devilish eyes met with hers, now hollow and almost pleading. As she neared him he noted, "Rarely is your her hair pulled back into such a graceful manner, I find this change pleasurable. One should not hide such a lovely neck." Sara chewed her bottom lip holding back her usual snide comment. "Thank you Mr. Irons." He held up one hand, "Such formalities, Sara. you really must relax. After all you are my guest here." The grey- haired gent closed this distance between them. Without hesitation he reached up and tucked a lock of stray hair behind her ear and leaned in whispering. "I hope my gift is half as beautiful. Although I have my own reservations, I don't think it possible." Sara tightened her frame again. If she had acted on instinct she would have slapped him. Knocked him down to the marble tiles and beat in his face until she didn't recognize him anymore. His opinions might have been biased, and she wondered if he was being honest even about that. Everything else it seemed was a lie. Or at least a ploy for control. As he drew back his nimble fingers had affixed a necklace about her neck. The thin chain of platinum dangled a triangular blue diamond at the hollow of her throat. It swayed slightly with her movement grazing against the barely noticeable scar tissue from the bullet. "There now. simply perfect." He turned and walked away, calling back he informed her. "Dinner will be served in a half an hour, I trust you'll be changing into something more. befitting." She drew in a breath and the Witchblade shifted up her arm slowly, feeding upon her emotions. The red carved runes at the back of Ken's restored hand glowed softly as he noted the blade's reaction. Pausing for a moment Ken turned, "Careful. now, you don't want to upset yourself" A light chuckle and he exited the parlor.
The guard at the stand eyed him slightly with mild curiosity, while taking the clipboard Sheridan held out looking to see in fact there was a package for Irons and then the man moved. "I need to see some ID." He held up the badge and the other man looked over it. There was a long pause that made Sheridan want to shift his body in the bucket seat and finally he was waved on. Putting his foot on the gas, the van slowly came to life rolling forwards through the opening gates. Sure now he was in but how was he going to get to Sara? She'd been called back inside, and if he climbed up the piping near the veranda he'd surely be seen. Those type of activities were better suited for night time use. Still he followed the parkway up to the house and move shifting into the back of the van pulling out a box that had Iron's name on it. Briefly he wrote down the information of its location and moved pulling open the sliding door. Stepping out he glanced around before pulling the brim of the ball cap down slightly as he headed to the front walk. He'd gotten tabs on some of the cameras especially the ones near the front door. Shifting on his feet slightly he pressed the bell for the door. There was only a short wait before a servant of Irons answered and looked at him. "I've a package here." The woman looked at him and he shifted the box he held slightly. There was silence. Maybe she didn't understand him. A brow arched. "Lady are you going to sign or what?" his voice was testy, but he was also putting himself in to the cover he had. Most New York deliver men he'd ever met got grouchy when they weren't answered. Still the servant said nothing and he shifted again. "Listen doll. You ain't the only people I got on my list for today.. Ya know. Is there anyone else who might be able to sign for this?" his eyes glanced past the servant into the hallway, from under the shadow of the hats brim while he stood clipboard and package in hand. Maybe Sara heard the door, or was close. And breath pulled from his lips.
Pezzini's fingertips lightly touched upon the triangular jewel with her Witchbladed hand. The large red gem on her bracelet swirled and glowed with its own inner light as it sent pangs of warning into her heart. "Please. don't" she whispered to the weapon. It cut into her wrist with its burrs of alien metal as the two sentient beings fought against one another. The blade wanted to attack, watch its talons tear into this man it despised and see him fall. She too wanted vengeance, but to even the score with more death. even the death of Irons, she had seen this play act out before and it had led to this. Oh if her father could see her now. Sara sighed as she exited the room and began to descend the large stairwell. She should 'ask' Ken's personal assistant for her opinion on an outfit. She would have preferred jeans and a t-shirt. A refined woman? Sara Pezzini? She almost laughed at herself. As her footsteps fell she heard the door. Hope and dread intermingled as she caught sight of the secret agent. She could hug him! Miss. Davenport his assistant seemed very annoyed with this trivial interruption. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw her chance. "Don't worry about it Miss. Davenport, I can sign for it I'm sure Kenneth wouldn't mind." Her voice was low almost purring as she tried her best to convey subservience and a ladylike attitude. Davenport bought it hook like and sinker. "Thank you Sara. When you've finished I'll help you choose more appropriate attire, I'm certain your choice of apparel wouldn't be suitable for the evening." The two women passed each other and Sara nudged her way to the open door. "Thanks, I'll take this. " she spoke loudly. Then ever so quiet, as she leaned down to examine the package, "What are you doing here?"
Something caught his eye, it was who he'd been seeking, Sara. Though casually he looked back to the other woman Miss Davenport. Sheridan felt that not even his normal roguish charms would have worked on that woman. Watching the woman walk away he moved now looking to Sara acting as if he'd never seen her before "Hey doll-face. Seem she didn't like me much. Yea. This package is for a Mister Irons." His eyes scrolled up her while he shifted slightly "So you his lady huh?" and then Davenport was out of sight. He handed over the package but not before putting his own to Sara on the top. His own voice fell to a slight whisper "What do you think, luv. Checking in of course. Things aren't always as they seem." The brim of the hat lifted as he bobbed his head slightly towards her "My eyes are wide, to the day.. but inside I'm blind as a bat." He gave her that semi-cheeky smile of his "Besides I brought you a lil' gift. 'Ope you enjoy." Moving he held the clipboard to her to sign for the package. "Jus' trying to keep my head above water. And a surrey out of more trouble that she's already got." Form moved slightly as he glanced some behind him and then to his watch raising his voice slightly, pulling the fake accent back a moment "So doll, howsabout you an me some time?" there was another slight nod of his head and his voice dropped again. "The raiders planning something to get you back." He eyed the other package he'd given her "Keep it hidden, keep it safe." And he took the clipboard back and tipped his hat slightly "Well I've got other people on my list." And he moved back from the door just out into a blind spot of the surveillance camera watching the door. Lifting his hand to his ear he stuck his pinky out and thumb up, tapping his watch face then he glanced out "when the night has come." He mouthed to her and turned heading towards the van. Still he glanced back up to her as he started the van, giving a slight nod as it slowly lurched forwards and he turned the U in the driveway back out the way he came. The guard waved him off and he pulled back around the corner. And slipped out of the delivery garb and back into his leather sitting on the bike. It started easy and the two men were still out cold. He chuckled and the bike came to life he zipped around the corner, pulling the bike up on its rear tire past the gates and open front. Then he was headed out of sight.
Sara's heartbeat echoed in her ears as living fear washed over her. The color that was in her face a few minutes ago from her anger drained out of her cheeks as her paranoia deepened. There were cameras everywhere what was he thinking?! She had to hope that all the stories Lara had told her were true or else she might be in for a world of shit. Almost like a deer in headlights Sara nodded ever slightly toward the 'keep it hidden keep it safe' comment. "Do I look like I'm in the mood for cheesy pickup lines?" Sara retorted. She took the pen and began to scrawl her name, "I have everything under control." She nodded her head up a bit and sent him a hint as to where her detective's mind would start looking for answers. She didn't even bother concealing her voice as she stated in a sultry tone, "Hey your name is Gabriel Bowman right? I got a package from you once before... Talisman.com?" She handed the pad back to Terry and whispered. "There's more here I just don't know what. Be careful" She closed the door and reentered the lavish house hoping her message was clear.
TEMP(ah the one for Sara. its some tapping equipment. few other small things, like a small mic and ear piece. then a small tube that has some of the information he dug up from the files and a picture of what he found in irons office. his cell number and a bit of code i.e.: SPmTScp10a would mean like Sara Pezzini met Terry Sheridan central park 10 and mini pen cam)TEMP
Sara had struck a deal with the devil. She sat in Iron's massive parlor mulling over the past night's events. Sara had awoken in a bedroom. one of Ken's guest quarters. Her wounds were healed thanks to the Witchblade, but she was still quite weakened. After a much changed Irons invited her to a late supper, she realized that he had played her. His right hand was restored, but to what means she had no idea. Kenneth let her know that the Yakuza hitmen were after Lara due to her romantic involvement with Estacado. that the family leaders wanted retribution for a hit the mobster had done. Kenneth had ties, big ties within the world of organized crime and he offered a trade to the detective. In exchange for Lara's life (which he promised to arrange) he wanted to ensure that Sara would stand by his side. It was a double edged sword. Unknown to Pezzini, Nottingham was a former member of the Japanese crime family and the seven figure salary he paid to Ian was nothing in comparison to the price he had paid the family for his services. As she blankly stared out toward the fireplace her green eyes, usually alive and vibrant looked muted and defeated. Kenneth strolled past the Witchblade gallery, a smug look upon his face as he neared his office. At last his collection would be complete. Not only had he regained his Witchblade, but the true wielder to boot.
A short Asian man joined the taller Brit and moved slightly holding a briefcase dressed in a partial suit. "Business as usual no, Mister Sheridan?" form moved as both walked into the alley past the street lamp meeting place. "Unfortunately...even on my ruddy holiday, I've to work." There was a chuckle from the short man "Ah, downfalls of being tied to the Tomb Raider." Terry's nose wrinkled slightly. "Women always seem more trouble when sought after." Sheridan followed after the man as the entered a empty warehouse. "Listen Lo, I'd rather not get into my troubles with Lara Croft right now." The black haired man gave a nod before moving to the table while two other larger men moved searching him. Sheridan stood with his arms out and rolled his eyes slightly. "Lo, you know I don't go anywhere without a gun." The two nodded their head to him as he moved to the table. "Old habit." The former spy set one of his SIGs onto the table top as he sat. and they began conducting business. "Assassination attempts, hmm." His brow perked in interest while he leaned forwards. "Well, as I figure it, Mate.. things can never be as simple as they seem." There was a click sound of the briefcase being opened and a manila folder was taken out slid across to Sheridan. "Here is everything you asked for. Have you kept your end?" the Brit moved pulling out the envelope handing it over "I'm not like some of those Yankee blokes you deal with, mate." Moving he pulled the folder closer and opened it thumbing through things and gave a nod. "How's Lin been holding up?" things were taken from the folder and tucked into his inner jacket pocket. " You have enough women troubles, as is, Mister Sheridan.. no need to add hers to them." hands moved up in almost joking submission. "All right, mate, all right." There was a bit of a smirk pulling against his lips. Standing he caught a set of keys being tossed to him, putting the pistol back. A crate was opened to an all black Ducatti and he moved "Sheridan. One more thing." Stopping he turned looking over his shoulder while Lo handed him a slip of paper. "Talk to Chang, everything else you had requested will be ready there." There was a nod as the ex-spy kicked his leg over the bike and straddled it. Pulling on a black helmet he left the guard up a moment. "Pleasure as always. And you'll find everything in order on the account." His started the bike and walked slightly while it was going and the warehouse garage door was opening. "Watch your back, my friend." Pulling down the face guard he revved the bike and slowly let go of the clutch giving it a bit more and peeled out of the alley onto the street. He and the bike moved in and out of the traffic heading to the larger skyscraper buildings of the city, and Irons Offices.
Kenneth Irons was a monster, though not without compassion he knew what it was to capture creatures like Pezzini. Although she had promised him dominance and servitude he knew all too well what it was like to have your pet bite the hand that fed you. Take Ian Nottingham, although Ken had offered him a generous salary a beautiful home in which to live. every comfort that unappreciative man had betrayed him. Joining with Pezzini to try and strike him down. It was pathetic really, Irons had beaten him literally one handed, tossing his broken body from the balcony like a rag doll. Part of him relished the sensation of murder, ah yes if it hadn't been for that bitch Pezzini he would be wielding the blade right now instead of that common piece of street trash. The assertive stride in which he walked described his ego to a letter. Although his hair was silver he didn't look old, in fact his face seemed almost too young for someone so intelligent. The cut of his Armani Suit proudly denoted that this was a man who lived a lifestyle most dreamed about. 'Amazing how you miss the little things in life, once their gone.' He thought pouring a glass of scotch. Meanwhile in the vast lounge, Sara paced back and forth. She felt like a caged animal her fists clenching and unclenching as she cursed herself for this decision. Could she sit idly by and watch Lara get killed? Hell no, but to agree to let Irons' oversee the fate of the Witchblade. it was almost too much for her to take in. This wasn't a lover, nor a partner. Although both of which Sara valued. Lara was the closest thing she had to family, the sister for her Julie never had been. 'True both of them have a knack for lock picking,' she smiled touching her fingers to her lips in the memory. This was ridiculous; the detective had calls to make. Arrangement to clear out her apartment, a job to quit. as much as she loathed being here a nagging voice in the back of her head told her to fuck em all and just leave, run. She shut it out her eyes casting toward the door. This place was wired with cameras, part of her knew he was watching. probably from the office and this made her fists clench.
As he moved through the traffic he turned the bike moving easily in between the cars and taxies that line New York's streets. Then he saw the rise of the building and slowed the bike as he pulled into its drive and then down to the underground parking. The former spy moved and shifted after stopping the bike pulling a small card from his pocket. One of the -gifts- he'd received. As much as Sheridan kept saying he was an ex-spy, the lest he believed it especially now. Silently the card was slipped into the security and a service elevator door opened while he stepped in. letting it rise a floor and he pressed the stop button. Moving his form crouched slightly before he pulled himself easily up through the top exit. The doors just opened for new people when he closed the top. Moving slightly he slid some thick gloves onto his hands and grasped the other cables in the shaft letting his form fall slightly off the elevator as it began moving up once more. And he moved down. Getting close to the bottom he dropped to his feet and pried open the doors slipping into the tiled ground of the service room. Sheridan had watched everything for a few days even took in research about the building. Iron's would be at his manor offices, with Sara some where within the midst. Though Sheridan had little idea of this. Eyes scanned over large metal breakers and a few electrical and security systems. He moved opening on of the locked boxes and changed the feed of the cameras. Now in the hallways and offices he'd be walking through the fed was cut, to be replaced by still frames of the empty halls and earlier prerecorded data of the system. Putting a small device on the sprinkler systems he moved and pulled a dingy service jumpsuit on over his clothing. This time he took the stairs up a few floors before pressing a button on a band attached to his wrist. Sprinkler systems starting going off all over the building and he slipped into an empty elevator to the top most levels. The receptions stopped him, as he explained he was there to fix the problem stating the systems was giving theses offices as the origin of the problem. People filed into the elevator with soggy paper and wet hair dos. And Sheridan moved straight to Iron's office. He moved easily though the office, which unlike the others had been kept from the sprinkler system go off. And fingers moved though papers while leaving things in order. There was a slight grin as he found the files he was looking for and took out a small camera, snapping pictures of them before moving over to the computer. Working a while longer he tucked a small CD away and stood. "So, the bloke 'as Sara, 'as he." Moving everything was left just the way it had been and he pressed the button again and the water stopped. He took the stairs all the way down discarding the jumpsuit as he went, stepping back in the service area just to switch over the fed once again and grab the small box before he was back to his bike. There was a cheeky smirk about him as he straddled the bike once more, pulling on the helmet. As he exited the parking garage he pulled the bike up on its back wheel before speeding off with a blaring car horn after him for having gone on the wrong side of the road. Now the British Spy was off to find the New York Detective, even if only to check her well being. Lara would have probably shot him, were he to play 'Hero' without her.
With a grumble she exited the parlor and reentered the bedroom. In the span of a few hours Kenneth had filled the sparse room with many things, clothing, paintings, and a few other oddities. She paused for a moment at the vanity and picked up a hair clip. Barefoot and dressed in a pair of drawstring pants and a tank top Sara almost looked at home here. It couldn't have been further from the truth. Everything was very cold and very beautiful but she didn't want to touch anything. It was like living in a museum, for a person like Sara a prison. The detective paused, spying a glance at herself in the mirror. "Quitter." Her voice was harsh and dejected. She opened the twin French doors and stepped out onto the veranda, overlooking Central Park. Funny, Sara had lived here in New York all her life and although she knew that here in the big apple the crime was devastating at this height it was quiet beautiful. The brunette dragged her nails though her hair, drawing the long locks up into a twisted bun affixing it with the silver clip. A long breath worked in and out of her lungs as her hands gripped the veranda's railing. Gripping the railing tightly her knuckles turned white from the effort. 'She knew why Nottingham had brought her here, and it saddened her to think that was but a glimpse of the life Ian had lived. Perhaps it was a less of two evils. At least while she was here she wasn't getting anyone she cared about shot, or stabbed. God knows what Terry must think about all of this. The first time she saw her unsheathe the Witchblade it damn near killed someone, hell it almost consumed her. Never again could she let things get that badly out of hand again, her mind recoiled in horror at the potential of the weapon. As she stared out over the green trees of Central Park, a light breeze played at the strands of hair that didn't make it into her bun, tickling at the sides of her neck.
Irons sat in his private office mulling over the plan. At a moment's notice he could have a dozen armed guards in the penthouse his little prize pinned down and sedated, but he wanted to personally break her spirit, wear her down and condition her. It had almost worked with his ex-wife Danette Boucher, if the blade hadn't rejected her. Though the results of his experimentations on Dannete were a failure it was not without its positive side. The intimate knowledge that things could be altered and manipulated was his congenial torture. The two girls had played things just as he intended. The ruse with the Egyptian Book of the Dead, was the perfect distraction from such a small thing. His fingertips flipped the small lilac gem into his palm as he smirked. All this effort to stop me from stealing the "Book of the Dead" honestly if he wanted such a trivial thing he would have it. No. this was what he was after; A small gem virtually undetectable among the half a dozen stolen artifacts from the British Museum. Ah things were going exactly as he wanted. Grey hair cleanly brushed back from his face fell slightly forward as he leaned down to gaze upon the treasure.
Terry now had information neither woman had, the once Iron's kept confined within the computer and offices. Yet still something wasn't sitting right with him. It was fishy, that's what it was. His hands gripped the handles of the bike, index and middle moving over the clutch as the toe of his boot moved pressing down shifting gears. The bike revved and peeled slightly as he took a turn. Just as Lara, Terry almost seemed to treat the road as a playground often swerving out of way of other cars. Horns would often sound when the bike would cross onto the wrong side of the road heading towards the oncoming cars, as if a deadly game of chicken. Sheridan could handle a bike well and his body pulled to one side and the bike followed now up on the sidewalks. "Watch it!" a hot dog vendor shouted as he pulled his cart out of the way of the bike just in time. There was a construction crew just ahead and a large gap in the concert cars being detoured away. If one could have seen under that helmet they would have seen his smirk and the roguish bad boy moved the bike pulled slightly back up once again onto a plank. Now the bike moved over the plank and the sand a construction worker ducking, as the bikes tires spun in the air just above him. Easily the bike landed back on the asphalt and he adjusted to it zipping around a large truck. Now the green of Central Park was coming into view. He'd sat there once, watching over Iron's place while he was still shadowing him closely at the start of the whole game. Now he was drawing closer to it. The bike was once more on the sidewalk now under the blue and white stripped awning of a New York Pizza place. Moving off the bike he glanced around, turning into the alleyway. Booted foot placed half way up part of the brick wall on the pizza place side and he moved hands out stretched as he gripped the bottom rung of the fire escape. Muscles tightened pulling his form up easily against the metal. He was all too used to things like that. Most of his time in Prison was spent doing reveres push-ups against the cage like roof. The accent up was easy once he was using his feet as well and he lifted himself over the top. Eyeing the distance he backed up slightly before moving towards the edge his foot hit against the ledge and pushed clearing the gap of the buildings He was perhaps 4 places away from that Iron owned. The land from there split and the 5th avenue styled homes stopped where Iron's land began. Moving once again over the roof he slipped his hands into his pocket pulling out a small ring of keys, to the door on the roof. Now with it unlocked he moved in and down on flight to another door. He used the other two keys to get in. the area was small but full, on the table was a few monitors and a computer system. Since he and the girls never quite got the chance to get into tap the phones the former spy set up his own bit of equipment. For being a British Spy, he had quite a few ties. Sitting down he put the CD into the computer and started working on it. A brow arched it looked like a partial plan. Thus far uncompleted, he needed the other half to fully decipher it and he figured it was in Iron's own home. He scribbled some things and moved attaching the small camera to a dock now typing in things as the computer pulled the images from it. Lips pursed slightly and he moved the chair rolling over the wood floor to the monitors. Eyes scanned for a moment and stopped. Moving he had the camera on that was focused on one of the veranda zoom. "Hullo, luv.." a brow arched slightly. So she was indeed there, Sara Pezzini. Detective, and wielder of the Witchblade. Now to get into see her for a spot and giver her something. He rolled the notes into a small tube, along with his cell number, and closed it. It would be tricky getting close without breaching the security's systems and guards. Thinking his fingers rubbed slightly over his shoulder which was bandaged. But he was used to it. Still how to get into Pezzini. "Bloody 'ell.. that wire tap would have come mighty handy right 'bout now." Moving he gathered some tapping equipment and shifted wrapping it and putting it into an envelope along with the small tube. There was no structure in their system really. After all Lara was more a shot from the hip kind of gal, and he a shot first, ask questions later. Lara knew how to contact him but he'd never spent any real time with Sara to get her any information. He doubted Irons would be as quick to release Sara as Jackie had been with Lara, so something from Central Park wouldn't work His half thought idea wouldn't work. And he ran a hand through his hair. What he really needed was to talk to her, and something coded would work as well. Now he exited the small room and locked it all up heading back up to the roof with the package. He needed to think, and his stomach growled slightly. Might as well stop for a bite.. might help his mind work out his small dilemma. Stepping into the Pizza place he order a small and sat down in a booth near the window watching, while the package was tucked away inside his jacket.
He looked out to see Sara on the veranda, and the natural energy that she always seem to have with her. Ian sat looking to her out on the veranda, then shifted his gaze to Irons office, his eyes narrowing as he looked to the door. Something was going to have to come to an apex soon. It was only a matter of time, really, before he confronted Irons and ended his life. Then, he could be free, and Sara could be happy again. He stands from his sitting position, then moves out to the veranda, gently opening the door, then closing it behind him, as he looks out to her. He holds his head somewhat high, as he looks to her, and then starts to walk forward. He gently strides over to her side, as he looks out to the city. "It's going to be a cold night." He states, as he doesn't even look to her, but just to out over the city. It was weird to see her like this, so devoid of something that he didn't know how to replace. He had killed so many, in her name and for her honor yesterday, and yet she wasn't exactly thrilled with him. He shouldn't have brought her back to Irons, that was mistake number one. Mistake number two, could possibly have been to leave her side, and go after Estacado. That was another matter that was going to need resolving sometime. He hadn't lost, but he hadn't won either, and that was bothering him. "Sara...I...about yesterday..." He begins, his eyes, closing as he tilts his head towards her. Nothing came out after that. Was there really anything he could say?
Letting go of the railing she walked closer, leaning her hips against the iron railing and supporting balustrades. Stretching her arms out wide, Sara took in the breeze as it played over the cotton of her tank top, and pressed the thin material of her drawstring pants tight against the front of her legs. Pools of green and bisecting gold rolled back as she leaned further against the cool metal. Toying with the idea, Sara wondered if she fell from this height. Would the Witchblade save her? Or would she be nothing but a smear on the street, another body to identify? The honking and steady drone of traffic was all about her, dulling her senses as she was left with only her inner thoughts to echo in her head. Could she love the truth more then the mystery of the Witchblade? The detective instincts wanted so badly to know all of the secrets of her symbiotic weapon, and as her thoughts trailed to the gallery a few rooms behind her she knew that Kenneth held more of those secrets then she could possibly imagine. Years of study. Perhaps her dreams told her the truth. Gravity kicked in and she felt herself nearly fall. Gasping Sara drew back her breath suddenly quick as her heart leapt into her throat. Her rouge stained lips were shaking as she drew herself back from the ledge. Gasping again, the brunette bumped straight into the silent figure of Ian Nottingham. She spun quickly her eyes alive with surprise. Two perfectly angled eyebrows raised as her face conveyed her startled emotions. "Dear Christ! Do you always have to sneak up on me like that?!" She swallowed clenching her jaw tight. "I don't want to talk about yesterday. It's clear that I'm better off here. where no one else can get hurt because of my mistake."
Sheridan rested his cheek upon the knuckles of his hand watching outside what was he to do? Things were getting more and more complicated. How can you stop something you have no control over. His pizza araived and he picked up a piece eating it idly as he thought. What sort of demented plans had Iron got up his sleeve. But he knew as many questions they asked, they wouldn't like the answer. He'd kept busy all day working on things. And as he had said last night to Lara during their row he was only staying for Sara. But it hadn't been entirely true. Brows twitched slightly thinking. He was supposed to meet her that night, along with Jackie. He sneered while starting on another piece of pizza. He wasn't keen about having to work with that man at all. If anything he would have rather worked alone just as he was doing now. Stomach stopped growing as the last two slices of pizza were left upon the tray and he still had no answers as to how he'd get into see Sara. Perhaps he was going to have to take out the front guards and sneak in. Then again Lara was devising a plan of her own and who knew what that involved. Feet carried him back outside after leaving tip and he moved to his newly acquired motorcycle. At least now he'd pulled some of his own strings and gotten some useful equipment. The engine purred slightly when he stopped near the gates of Iron's place, watching looking up across the gardens. Was she still there still standing on the veranda? Eyes focused and it seemed she was, but with someone else. Placing once foot on the ground he steadied himself before glancing at his wrist watch. Lips pursed slightly as he revved the bike up some its tires moving as he lifted his foot from the ground pulling away from the front.
Kenneth tucked the little secret back into his pocket and stood. As he carried the tumble filled with amber scotch at the rip he passed by a small table adorned with photographs. His eye caught particular black and white of himself with the late JFK and he smirked. No one, not even the president was safe if Irons so desired. This photo was taken at the height of the Cuban missile crisis. The infamous two weeks when the American Government feared a nuclear war with Russia. Perhaps the cold war was worse then the active machine of direct confrontation. With a cold war everyone was looking for the spy, the informant that would sell their secrets to the highest bidder. The billionaire ran his fingertip across the edge of the frame wiping the nearly undetectable dust from its surface before her exited the room. "Sara darling?" he called from the hall, closing the distance toward the parlor. His footfalls echoed though the massive room as he neared the bar. "Would you come here for a moment?" Kenneth knew she was outside on the balcony, ever watchful of her movements though his closed circuit surveillance system, he noted her location before exiting the paneled office.
Pezzini stood with Nottingham her frame rigid and restrained. As she stood in the open air she noted the coolness that Nottingham had mentioned, the skin on her bare arms standing out in hundreds of goose pimples. She couldn't look at him right now. Not after the carnage that she had witnessed at Estacado's Dojo. Her eyes looked anywhere but to him, at the sound of a motorcycle kicking up she casually glanced toward the din. It was pure habit for a motor head like Sara, and she found her eyes staring straight into the face of a very familiar face. Just as she caught Terry's face her mouth dropped into a surprised O at the call from Irons. "Excuse me, Ian" she spoke low. Turning away her head glanced back briefly as they cast to Ian and then more stealthily to Sheridan. With that she vanished into the bedroom and meandered back into the parlor to greet Ken.
On the outside Sheridan had his own eyes and ears set up, but when it came to the inside of Iron's place he was deaf and blind, so to speak. From everything he gathered, Iron was a force to be weary of, one couldn't go storming the castle. The spy knew this. He caught the brief glance from the detective before he was moving away. But something struck. Nottingham. Sure situations between the Sheridan and Nottingham were much like the one between he and Jackie, if not slightly worse. He had his information on each he was now dealing with. Some more than others, but still it kept the Brit informed more than anything. And that, that was a high card to hold. It was a sticky situation. Somehow he wanted to try to get to Sara before he met up with Lara, it would at least be a sort of heads up. And would possibly keep the Tomb Raider from pulling something stupid, like her taking a shot from Jackie. The bike and owner moved to the other side of the property and away slightly while he waited. The purr of the engine slowing and finally nothing as he turned it off. Sara knew he was about, at least it was a start. But with Iron's keeping close watch on her, there wasn't much he could do. There was only so much he could do as of that point in time. Trying something more too soon might clue in Irons. Moving his jaw slightly he pulled off the helmet setting it on the bike and opportunity happened to strike. If not by fluke. A delivery van had come up from the street were he was, windows down and the former spy listened to conversation as they stopped. "Well, Mickey I think it this large one round the corner here." It was chancy, but he had to take it. Moving he dropped his elbows onto the side door. " 'Scuese me Gents. Sorry." The man close to him lifted an eyebrow "For what?" he gave a cheeky smile "Well, for this of course." He dropped a can inside the cab and it started filling with smoke. Both men coughed as he moved back away. There was the sound of the horn as the driver dropped his head onto the wheel and the other dropped against the side. "Only for a moment, mates.." moving he opened the sliding door of the van and the other allowing it to vent slightly before he got in pulling on of their shirts leaving them leaned up against the building. He took the id badge and pulled the knife from his pocket fiddling slightly he made a small slice and was able to put a small of his own in. picking up the hat he pulled it on and glanced over the clip board. A enveloped package for Kenneth Irons. Still he had his doubts on how well it would actually work. Starting the van up he rolled it slowly round the corner and up to the guard at the front gates. "Package for Mister Irons." His British accent was replaced with a rather New York one. Though it still held its hint and bits sounded more Jersey than New York.
The brunette walked gracefully toward the debonair billionaire. Her bare feet took in the coolness of the marble tiles. It was almost sickening the way Ken's eyes watched her movements. The Billionaire shared a knowing glance, his devilish eyes met with hers, now hollow and almost pleading. As she neared him he noted, "Rarely is your her hair pulled back into such a graceful manner, I find this change pleasurable. One should not hide such a lovely neck." Sara chewed her bottom lip holding back her usual snide comment. "Thank you Mr. Irons." He held up one hand, "Such formalities, Sara. you really must relax. After all you are my guest here." The grey- haired gent closed this distance between them. Without hesitation he reached up and tucked a lock of stray hair behind her ear and leaned in whispering. "I hope my gift is half as beautiful. Although I have my own reservations, I don't think it possible." Sara tightened her frame again. If she had acted on instinct she would have slapped him. Knocked him down to the marble tiles and beat in his face until she didn't recognize him anymore. His opinions might have been biased, and she wondered if he was being honest even about that. Everything else it seemed was a lie. Or at least a ploy for control. As he drew back his nimble fingers had affixed a necklace about her neck. The thin chain of platinum dangled a triangular blue diamond at the hollow of her throat. It swayed slightly with her movement grazing against the barely noticeable scar tissue from the bullet. "There now. simply perfect." He turned and walked away, calling back he informed her. "Dinner will be served in a half an hour, I trust you'll be changing into something more. befitting." She drew in a breath and the Witchblade shifted up her arm slowly, feeding upon her emotions. The red carved runes at the back of Ken's restored hand glowed softly as he noted the blade's reaction. Pausing for a moment Ken turned, "Careful. now, you don't want to upset yourself" A light chuckle and he exited the parlor.
The guard at the stand eyed him slightly with mild curiosity, while taking the clipboard Sheridan held out looking to see in fact there was a package for Irons and then the man moved. "I need to see some ID." He held up the badge and the other man looked over it. There was a long pause that made Sheridan want to shift his body in the bucket seat and finally he was waved on. Putting his foot on the gas, the van slowly came to life rolling forwards through the opening gates. Sure now he was in but how was he going to get to Sara? She'd been called back inside, and if he climbed up the piping near the veranda he'd surely be seen. Those type of activities were better suited for night time use. Still he followed the parkway up to the house and move shifting into the back of the van pulling out a box that had Iron's name on it. Briefly he wrote down the information of its location and moved pulling open the sliding door. Stepping out he glanced around before pulling the brim of the ball cap down slightly as he headed to the front walk. He'd gotten tabs on some of the cameras especially the ones near the front door. Shifting on his feet slightly he pressed the bell for the door. There was only a short wait before a servant of Irons answered and looked at him. "I've a package here." The woman looked at him and he shifted the box he held slightly. There was silence. Maybe she didn't understand him. A brow arched. "Lady are you going to sign or what?" his voice was testy, but he was also putting himself in to the cover he had. Most New York deliver men he'd ever met got grouchy when they weren't answered. Still the servant said nothing and he shifted again. "Listen doll. You ain't the only people I got on my list for today.. Ya know. Is there anyone else who might be able to sign for this?" his eyes glanced past the servant into the hallway, from under the shadow of the hats brim while he stood clipboard and package in hand. Maybe Sara heard the door, or was close. And breath pulled from his lips.
Pezzini's fingertips lightly touched upon the triangular jewel with her Witchbladed hand. The large red gem on her bracelet swirled and glowed with its own inner light as it sent pangs of warning into her heart. "Please. don't" she whispered to the weapon. It cut into her wrist with its burrs of alien metal as the two sentient beings fought against one another. The blade wanted to attack, watch its talons tear into this man it despised and see him fall. She too wanted vengeance, but to even the score with more death. even the death of Irons, she had seen this play act out before and it had led to this. Oh if her father could see her now. Sara sighed as she exited the room and began to descend the large stairwell. She should 'ask' Ken's personal assistant for her opinion on an outfit. She would have preferred jeans and a t-shirt. A refined woman? Sara Pezzini? She almost laughed at herself. As her footsteps fell she heard the door. Hope and dread intermingled as she caught sight of the secret agent. She could hug him! Miss. Davenport his assistant seemed very annoyed with this trivial interruption. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw her chance. "Don't worry about it Miss. Davenport, I can sign for it I'm sure Kenneth wouldn't mind." Her voice was low almost purring as she tried her best to convey subservience and a ladylike attitude. Davenport bought it hook like and sinker. "Thank you Sara. When you've finished I'll help you choose more appropriate attire, I'm certain your choice of apparel wouldn't be suitable for the evening." The two women passed each other and Sara nudged her way to the open door. "Thanks, I'll take this. " she spoke loudly. Then ever so quiet, as she leaned down to examine the package, "What are you doing here?"
Something caught his eye, it was who he'd been seeking, Sara. Though casually he looked back to the other woman Miss Davenport. Sheridan felt that not even his normal roguish charms would have worked on that woman. Watching the woman walk away he moved now looking to Sara acting as if he'd never seen her before "Hey doll-face. Seem she didn't like me much. Yea. This package is for a Mister Irons." His eyes scrolled up her while he shifted slightly "So you his lady huh?" and then Davenport was out of sight. He handed over the package but not before putting his own to Sara on the top. His own voice fell to a slight whisper "What do you think, luv. Checking in of course. Things aren't always as they seem." The brim of the hat lifted as he bobbed his head slightly towards her "My eyes are wide, to the day.. but inside I'm blind as a bat." He gave her that semi-cheeky smile of his "Besides I brought you a lil' gift. 'Ope you enjoy." Moving he held the clipboard to her to sign for the package. "Jus' trying to keep my head above water. And a surrey out of more trouble that she's already got." Form moved slightly as he glanced some behind him and then to his watch raising his voice slightly, pulling the fake accent back a moment "So doll, howsabout you an me some time?" there was another slight nod of his head and his voice dropped again. "The raiders planning something to get you back." He eyed the other package he'd given her "Keep it hidden, keep it safe." And he took the clipboard back and tipped his hat slightly "Well I've got other people on my list." And he moved back from the door just out into a blind spot of the surveillance camera watching the door. Lifting his hand to his ear he stuck his pinky out and thumb up, tapping his watch face then he glanced out "when the night has come." He mouthed to her and turned heading towards the van. Still he glanced back up to her as he started the van, giving a slight nod as it slowly lurched forwards and he turned the U in the driveway back out the way he came. The guard waved him off and he pulled back around the corner. And slipped out of the delivery garb and back into his leather sitting on the bike. It started easy and the two men were still out cold. He chuckled and the bike came to life he zipped around the corner, pulling the bike up on its rear tire past the gates and open front. Then he was headed out of sight.
Sara's heartbeat echoed in her ears as living fear washed over her. The color that was in her face a few minutes ago from her anger drained out of her cheeks as her paranoia deepened. There were cameras everywhere what was he thinking?! She had to hope that all the stories Lara had told her were true or else she might be in for a world of shit. Almost like a deer in headlights Sara nodded ever slightly toward the 'keep it hidden keep it safe' comment. "Do I look like I'm in the mood for cheesy pickup lines?" Sara retorted. She took the pen and began to scrawl her name, "I have everything under control." She nodded her head up a bit and sent him a hint as to where her detective's mind would start looking for answers. She didn't even bother concealing her voice as she stated in a sultry tone, "Hey your name is Gabriel Bowman right? I got a package from you once before... Talisman.com?" She handed the pad back to Terry and whispered. "There's more here I just don't know what. Be careful" She closed the door and reentered the lavish house hoping her message was clear.
TEMP(ah the one for Sara. its some tapping equipment. few other small things, like a small mic and ear piece. then a small tube that has some of the information he dug up from the files and a picture of what he found in irons office. his cell number and a bit of code i.e.: SPmTScp10a would mean like Sara Pezzini met Terry Sheridan central park 10 and mini pen cam)TEMP
