Chapter Nine

  The Enemy

It was like the aftermath of a battlefield.

Leaving Hans' home at first light, Frank, Miranda and their new companions made their way into the city once more. A telephone directory in their refuge had given Frank the idea during the night that Malcolm Industries most likely had an office in Oslo itself and a quick perusal of its pages confirmed this as fact. With the entire city crippled because of the Silmaril's energetic awakening, the abductors who had taken their children had no way of contacting them with their demands.  Frank doubted that Sam and Pip were at the Oslo branch of the company but at least going there would give them valuable information as well as giving their abductors notice that they were willing to listen.

Frank had no real intention of taking the Silmaril to Valinor because unleashing David Saeran on the world would make the Nazgul even more dangerous than they already were. If Elladan was right, if Sam was indeed this Ringbearer that had thwarted the dark lord's plans in another existence, then his minions would be less likely to give up the boy because he would make a great gift to their freed master. No, Valinor could not be an option. While Saeran remained trapped in his prison, the Nazgul, though dangerous could be fought.  If Saeran's connection to them were re-established then all of them, not just Sam and Pip, would die.

The morning after the wave was a good deal more sedate that than the hours immediately following it. The fires had been extinguished during the night and all that remained were the burnt out husks of buildings, still exuding wisps of smoke.  There was a silence about the place that was all consuming and sent a chill through them as they continued down the sidewalk.  For a moment, it did not feel as if they were walking in the streets of a major European city but rather the heart of war zone in some strife torn country. Windows remained broken, shop fronts had been assailed by looters with their display window and their doors smashed in as thieves reveled at the impotence of previously formidable security measures.

"Christ, this is eerie," Eric found himself saying as he eyes the wrecks of cars that had slammed into walls or had simply crawled to a stop when the wave had done its worst.  "I feel like I'm in Chechnya or something," he said to no one in particular.

"We need to find a car," Miranda replied.

"Good luck," Jason retorted skeptically.  "Unless someone had an old clunker we can pinch, I doubt we're going to find one."

"It isn't far," Frank replied, "a couple of kilometers at the most."

"In the days of Middle earth, we journeyed through most places on foot," Elladan remarked. "From Bree to Imladris, it would take us six days."

"Six days?" Eric stared at them. "You walked for six days?"

Elrohir shook his head in disapproval, "you people are too dependent on your devices."

Suddenly, they heard the low drone of a car in the distance. Like the rest of her companions, Miranda searched for the source of the engines and deduced immediately that it was coming from behind it, most likely from out of town.   Thinking quickly, she made a decision, determined that they should not be delayed for any reason when the lives of her children hung in the balance.  Miranda had no patience with waiting and while Frank's strategy was sound, there were some things about their situation she was better suited to handle.

"You guys, hide." She ordered them.

"Hide?" Frank looked at her.

"Just do it!" She insisted, her eyes darting forward to the direction of the approaching vehicle.

The five men looked at each other in confusion but obeyed when it became apparent there was little time to debate the matter. Taking refuge behind the remains of a smashed car, they watched as Miranda stood in the middle of the road and waited. She ran her fingers through her hair and unfastened the buttons of her coat, leaving it splayed open to reveal the t-shirt she wore beneath. The car made its appearance later, a late model Ford station wagon with license plates that indicated it had most likely journeyed here from beyond the city.  As soon as it came into sight, Miranda began waving furiously and calling for it to stop.  No doubt, if there were any other people in the area, they would also be searching for a way to get back to their loved ones.  Miranda was not entirely callous of their needs but the safety of her children demanded that she be selfish.

The driver of the car was a man in his mid thirties who immediately brought the car to a gradual halt when he caught sight of her.  Miranda took a deep breath, sizing him up as she made her way towards him, glancing over her shoulder with just enough subtlety to warn those in hiding to remain where they were.  She noted that he was eyeing her appreciatively and supposed she ought to be grateful that bearing two children had not reduced her attractiveness to the opposite sex. It could be particularly useful at Christmas when she was trying to wrangle that nice bracelet out of Frank or instances such as this when they needed a lift.

Taking advantage of his interest, Miranda flashed him a radiant smile and was grateful that her Norwegian was passable enough to be understood. She approached his casually, aware of the frown that was on Frank's face as she sauntered to the driver's side window.  The man lowered it immediately and looked up at her with a similarly inviting smile.

"Do you need help?" He asked.

"Yes," she answered. "I was out here looking for a job when all the trouble happened. I've been stuck here all night, waiting for help."

"British yes?" He asked, noting her accent and switching to English.

"That's right," Miranda nodded grateful for that respite. "I wonder can you give me a lift. I need to get back to the city center."

"There is a mess there too," he answered. "I'm coming to bring my uncle out of Oslo until things are back to normal. I can give you a lift."

"Thank you," she smiled gratefully, watching him carefully as he started to turn away.  He had no sooner turned his back to her when Miranda threw out her fist in a single, concentrate strike. Her knuckles connected with the back of his skull, making the sound of a single hard thwack of flesh before he slumped sideways without uttering another word. Straightening up as she surveyed the area to ensure she had not been seen, Miranda proceeded to open the car door.

"You can come out now," she called out to no one in particular as she dragged her unconscious victim out of the car and left him on the pavement.

"We're not stealing his car," Frank stared at her in shock.

"We need to get to city and we don't have a lot of time," she met his gaze. "This was your plan."

"My plan was a nice walk," he said reproachfully, "not highway robbery."

"You got to admit, she's affective," Eric grinned, deciding that even if she wasn't his sister, he did love this woman's style.


"You didn't kill him did you?" Frank asked as he looked at the dark bruise forming on the man's temple.

"No," Miranda looked at him as she slipped into the driver's seat of the car, "he'll be asleep for a couple of hours."


Frank gave her a look, "you couldn't do this to that plumber who tried to overcharge us two months ago?"  He asked as he slipped into the seat next to her. 

"It would lose something in the translation," Miranda retorted and looked over her shoulder to ensure that the rest of her companions had climbed into the car.

"This is not seemingly," Elladan remarked as he found himself sandwiched between Elrohir and Eric while Jason had tumbled into the back of the station wagon and had stretched out comfortably.  The younger son of Elrond Peredhil did not think it appropriate that he ought to be party to stealing some helpless bystander's vehicle. "That man has done us no harm."

"Relax," Miranda replied as she slipped the car into gear and wished inwardly that it were an automatic since it would make navigating these streets a good deal easier, "he's probably insured."

"I do not understand," Elrohir returned with understandable confusion.

"It means he'll be compensated for the loss of his car," Frank explained as best as he could. "We could get into trouble with the police you know," he turned back to Miranda," the last thing we need is the Nazgul and the authorities chasing us."

"I wouldn't worry," Miranda returned as the car starting moving, "its not like he can call anybody to report it missing."

"She's got a point," Jason sang out.

Miranda shook her head as the debate continued, thinking silently to herself.

Men.

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

Looking out the window, it felt as if they were imprisoned at the highest peak of a great castle. Beneath them were undulating hills of green, forming a valley that surrounded a river so blue that it seemed painted almost. The sky was a canvas of similar beauty, a cruel taunt to the two boys who trapped indoors, unable to experience the heat of its sunshine against their skin. It beckoned them from beyond the glass, whispering its words of freedom and comfort and yet remained maddeningly beyond their reach.

Sam looked through the glass and knew that somewhere in that beauty, his parents were searching desperately for him and his brother. He could feel it in his bones, giving him the strength to prevail despite the fear that threatened to consume his young body whole like a tasty morsel disappearing down the gullet of some dark beast. He was afraid but he dared not feel it.  He looked over his shoulder at Pip who was lying on the bed, scrunched up on his side like a baby.  They had never spent a single night away from their parents and now it was more than a day since they had seen either.  Pip was taking it very hard and it was a fear worsened by the fact that they both knew what had taken them away was not quite human, that they were gripped in events steeped in dark magic where they were powerless.

Footsteps outside the locked door of their spacious but inescapable prison forced Sam away from the window and Pip to sit up straight on the bed.  Hours ago, they had been deposited into this room by a woman who had introduced herself to them as Irina wearing a smile Sam knew was merely a facade from her true feelings.  He had seen something in her eyes as she looked at him, a flicker of predatory interest that made his skin crawl.  Her words had escaped her like syrup, smooth and lingering but their substance felt tainted somehow.  When she had left them, he was glad and felt the tightness in his chest evaporate.  Now that he heard her approach, the same anxiety returned.

"She's coming back," Pip looked at him fearfully.

"They can't hurt us," Sam hurried to his brother's side and took Pip's hand in his as they sat on the bed, waiting for the inevitably opening of the door.  "They want something from dad."

"What?" Pip stared at him in question.

"I don't know," Sam said honestly. Their abductors' words in the car had been hard enough to understand with Sam being grateful that he had learnt as much as he did. However, Pip's question was the only thing that Sam could not decipher. The words used were beyond his understanding and Sam had given up trying because he learnt enough to be certain that they were both safe for the moment. "Something important I think."

Pip was about to open his mouth to inquire further when the turning doorknob silenced him and both their eyes turned swiftly to it.  The door opened a moment later, creaking wider apart as their visitors entered the room.  The woman they had seen earlier was leading their abductors in the dark suits past the doorway although there was not as many of them as before. 

Upon catching sight of them, the woman smiled and reinforced Sam's belief that everything she said to them would be a lie.

"Hello there," she greeted, her voice was pleasant enough but its intent was lost by the presence of her companions. "I would have thought you too would have caught up on your sleep. After all, you have had a long night."

"If we were asleep you would have woke us up," Sam pointed out.

Irina looked at the child that had was the reincarnation of the enemy that had helped to bring David to his complete and utter ruin in the ages of Middle Earth.  She did not know much about this child but suspected that very little escaped him.  Eyes with a keen intellect bore into her even as she approached him and his young brother.  Most likely a trait acquired from his past incarnation as well as some inherited instincts from his mother, whom Irina had acquired all available information about by this time. Once she knew which Miller was related to Bryan, it was not easy to learn everything she could about the family.

The Nazgul claimed that the child was adamant that his mother would come for them. After reading Miranda Miller nee Wynne's file located from their inside contacts in MI6, it was easy to understand why.  The husband was an academician who probably knew very little about coping in the outside world beyond his field of study and she anticipated little difficulty in getting him to cooperate. However, the mother was an entirely different matter and it did not help that she sensed some trepidation in the Nazgul at her eventual appearance. 

Morgul was determined to kill her but his courage was tempered by vengeance. The others were not so certain they could make the kill without suffering that which they intended to visit upon her. In any case, it was probably best for Irina to conclude her business with Frank Miller and then exterminate them all to prevent further complications.

"That's very true Sam," Irina remarked and sauntered over to a chair and sat down near the bed. "Now, you, your brother and I must have a talk."

"We want to go home," Sam said abruptly.

"Once your father does what he is told, I will be more than happy to let you go home to them," Irina lied.

"What do you want him to do?" Pip asked.

"Well," she learned forward, giving the Nazgul who were standing at the door a little smile before she answered, "your father can get something for me.  When he does, I will release you to him."

"What is it?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Nothing that you need worry about," Irina said smoothly, seeing no reason to let the boy know that his father would be unleashing his future master.  Irina had no intention of releasing any of the children but there was no need for them to know that at this point.  Unlike David, whose experience with children was miniscule if not entirely non-existent, Irina knew something of them and allowing them to believe that they would be returned to their parents would minimize any escape attempt. Still, judging by the bold defiance in the older child's face, Irina was convinced that he bore watching. When David was returned to her, he would be delighted by the gift of one of the Ringbearers for whom he held so much hatred. 

If anything Sam would prove more entertaining because there was so much spirit to break.

"Can we talk to them?" Sam ventured to ask. 

"Not at this time," Irina replied, amused by the child's efforts to gain concessions, no doubt believing it would give him and his brother opportunity to reveal their location to their parents. "There's been a 'problem' in the city where they live and none of the phones are working. I'm sure you'll be able to talk to them soon."

"I don't believe you," he snapped.

"Now it isn't polite to assume that someone whom you just met is a liar," Irina said reproachfully, turning her high-powered gaze at the child. However, if she was expecting him to withdraw, she was soon disappointed.  He stared back at her with open animosity and Irina wondered how it was possible for so much will to exist in a child so young.

"You are lying! You took us from mum and dad. That's a bad thing already, why should we think you wouldn't you lie too?" He challenged her.

Heaven help her, Irina thought as she stared at the boy in light of his vehement response, she could start to like him.

"You shouldn't," Irina answered. "And I don't have to give you an explanation."

With that, she turned on her heels and walked out of the room, the Nazgul following her. 

"You shouldn't have made her angry," Pip declared once she was gone, her departure leaving a chill through their bones.

"She was lying," Sam said petulantly.

"If you keep being bad, they might not let us go," Pip replied with a frown.

"I don't think they'll let us go anyway," Sam answered, still staring at the door.

"But they said…"

"They're lying." Sam stared at his brother. "We have to get out of here on own, somehow."

"But we're high up in the mountains," Pip insisted, his fear so thick that it was choking him.

Sam hugged his brother, hoping the gesture would wipe the anxiety from his face but his hugs did not have the same power as their mother or their father. 

"Pip, we have to get out of here," he said when he pulled away from his brother again. "I don't know how I know but they're not telling us the truth and I think if we stay, it will be very bad."

Pip wanted to understand, truly he did but his brother was speaking to him with an understanding of the situation he could not begin to fathom. However, Sam never lied to him, at least about the true things and he sensed that this was a very true thing that Sam was saying.

"How are we going to do it?" Pip asked after a long moment.

"I don't know," Sam answered, wishing he did have an answer. "But I'm going to think of a way. I think if dad does this thing for them, it will hurt all of us, not just you and me but everyone."

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

"The boy is trouble," Morgul hissed as they walked down the hall away from the room where their two prisoners were currently held. "We should kill him now."

"Their parents aren't fools," Irina paused long enough to say, "before they agree to do anything, they will want confirmation that their sons are alive. Until Frank Miller gets David back for us, we are going to ensure those children remain that way." She cast him a look that revealed her insistence on the matter.

"It is a waste of effort but I will comply for now," Morgul hissed in open dislike to those orders.

Irina paused in the hallway and stared at her reflection in the Nazgul's dark glasses, "it may be prudent to move them below where we can be certain they won't escape."

"They cannot escape now," he retorted. "They are merely children and my brothers and I are more than capable of dealing with them."

Irina chose not to point out the Nazgul had not been terribly efficient about dealing with them when those children had been hobbits making their way across the country with the Master Ring. However, there was no reason to get into another contest of wills with the phantom creature. They had an uneasy alliance borne out of mutual need and despite their obvious dislike for one another, they were united in their common purpose of retrieving David Saeran.  She supposed she could afford to be magnanimous by holding her tongue on what she thought of his capabilities.

"Children can surprise you," Irina returned instead of saying what was really on her mind, "besides, I'll have need of you when we begin our negotiations with Professor Miller."

"He may cooperate but his woman will be coming here," Morgul replied with utter certainty.

"She doesn't even know where we are," Irina retorted. "Even if she did find her way here, which is unlikely, I seriously doubt she'll be any match for what we have waiting her and her children down below."

"She is far more formidable than you give her credit," Morgul met Irina's gaze.

"I am perfectly aware what she is," Irina retorted. "However, you may be correct in this instance. Miranda Miller nee Wynne is formerly of MI6, This information reached us by way of the contact we still have in the intelligence community. Officially retired after her marriage to Frank Miller, brother of Bryan, which is undoubtedly how they met.  Our agents could not retrieve the specifics of her missions because she was apparently a deep cover operative but the combat training for female agents is no less rigorous than it is for the males. That is why we need to move quickly, if we act fast, we will give them no chance to make any foolhardy efforts at rescue, even if there is a chance of her finding us here.

Morgul was forced to concede her reasoning was sound though he wanted the chance to face the shield maiden again. She had surprised him with typical human resilience, a quality that had caused him to be captured unawares by more than one instance in the past.  There was a time when he was human too but that day was so far in the past, he barely remembered it at all. The only vestiges of that previous existence, before he had been called to serve the Master, was his name and he was convinced beyond that, his humanity had little else value.

"Let her come," Morgul replied with no small feeling of hatred for his nemesis. "The time of prophecy is done, this time I will kill her."

"I'm sure you will," Irina answered, not really caring about his personal vendettas, "but not until we finish what we have to do." She glared at him. "All that matters is the retrieval of David, is that clear?"

"You need not remind me of my loyalties to my Master," Morgul hissed back, incensed by her audacity to think that Sauron's welfare would be impeded by his thirst for vengeance. "I served him before you were even conceived in the mind of your ancestors. I will serve him long after you are dead and certainly after he tires of you."

Irina stiffened at the insult, "that may be but you will serve nothing if he is not returned to us and to do that we need all the pieces on the board, even Miranda Miller. Whatever personal desires you may have in this matter can wait but bear in mind that as long as we have her children, you can be assured of getting your confrontation eventually."

"That is acceptable," Morgul answered, deciding that he would live for the day when Sauron tired of this human and he was allowed to kill her. He would have already done so if not for the fact that his master had some connection to this female and could possibly be distressed by her passing.  Even if he did not feel that way, Sauron did not like his possessions harmed without his saying so and this female, despite her posturing, was undoubtedly that.

"Good," Irina replied. "We should move the children below immediately. I don't know how much time we have but it won't be long before their parents begin to regroup. You say there are elves in their company?"

"Yes," Morgul nodded, "I think they may be the children of the Peredhil."

"The Peredhil?" She looked at him.

"The Master of Imladris, Elrond," he explained. "He is an elven lord of considerable healing skills and power. His sons were companions of the Dunedain, Isildur's heir.  They are formidable in battle and they will undoubtedly know our ways. Their father's realm was westward of here but I doubt that they would suspect us being here."

Irina shook her head in frustration. She loved David, she truly did but she had to wonder the wisdom of both him and his master, John Malcolm in establishing their places of power in locations that were known to them in Middle earth. Though almost as formidable as their hideout in Romania, she knew David had chosen this place for his Germanic residence because the Harz mountains were what were left of the mountain range he once knew to be Misty Mountains.

"They found us in Romania," she countered. "They knew it was Mordor."

"Olorin was in their presence," Morgul replied, still smarting at their utter failure to protect their master during that occasion. "A maia of Manwe has considerable power, these elves do not. There will not be a repeat of what has taken place before. In the depths below, the Uruks will ensure that the children will be guarded and should their mother find a way to reach them, their reunion will be brief."

"I hope you're right," she muttered under her breath, "if we lose this chance. It will never come again."

***********

From inside the station wagon across the street, Frank Miller stared at the tower of glass and steel that was the Malcolm Industries' headquarters in Oslo. Despite the fact that the Silmaril had brought the city to a virtual standstill, it appeared that this was not the case for the corporate front of the Nazguls' master. A few cars were parked in the front parking lot that did not appeared to have been damaged by the energy wave that had made all others in the city useless as transportation.  Frank suspected that these might have come from beyond the blast radius of the wave, to bring supplies and components for destroyed electronics. Whatever the reason, it ensured that there would be someone there to answer their questions about the company.

"Are we sure we want to do this?" Jason asked as he saw many of the men walking in and out of that room were carrying guns. These were undoubtedly security people brought into protect the building from looters. Considering the damage they had seen as they drove to the city center, it was not an unreasonable precaution when they had seen so many shop fronts broken into during the blackout by unscrupulous individuals taking advantage of the disaster.

"We need information," Frank said without looking at the younger man peering over the top of the back seat from the rear compartment of the vehicle.  "This is the fastest way."

"They're not simply going to answer our questions you know," Eric pointed out skeptically. He understood Frank and Miranda's determination to retrieve their children but this did not seem like the best way to go about doing it.

"They will if you know whom to ask," Miranda answered coldly reloading her gun once more. She had only a few spare shells left, not enough to fill the magazine but enough to ensure she could do what was needed.

"What exactly is your plan Miranda?" Elladan asked, preferring to be more constructive since it was obvious that the woman was thinking two steps ahead of everyone else.

"I'm going to go in there and find out who knows about the Nazgul and where they might have taken Sam and Pip."

"And if they don't tell us?" Eric looked at her.

"Then I shall proceed to break every bloody bone in their bodies," she said before climbing out of the car leaving a noticeable silence.

"Well," Elrohir said after a moment, not knowing what else to say, "I suppose that is some sort of plan."

Frank shook his head and jumped out of the car after his wife, uncertain at this new side of her. In truth, he had always suspected what she did for a living before entering his life to play the part of wife and mother.  Existing in the place between suspecting and knowing for certain had given Frank some measure of comfort. He regarded his brother in the same when it came to what Bryan did in his professional life.  However, since this nightmare had been thrust upon them, the woman who had loved him the past decade, who had raised his children with gentle if somewhat possessive intensity was transforming into someone else and he could not deny that this new persona was rather intimidating.

"Miranda," he called out as he hastened his pace to join her.  Behind him he could hear the others making similar moves. "We are not going in there 'guns blazing' so to speak."

"We can't play it safe this time Frank," she retorted, continuing across the street towards the building. "We have to get them back and now."

"We will," Frank insisted, "but going in there and playing the thug will accomplish nothing but put us on the most wanted list and that won't help the boys."

"They won't give it us any other way," Miranda declared.

"Miranda, stop," Frank grabbed her by the arm and forced her to look at him. "Those people in there most likely have no idea who is running their company. Most of them are security people and maintenance workers. I want to go in there and find out what other holdings they have. Wherever they're keeping the boys, its not in corporate headquarters like this.  Also I want to find out who have been running things if David Saeran is presently in Valinor under house arrest. We find that person and we can find our children."


Miranda could not deny his words but she also knew deep inside that negotiation with these creatures was not possible. In her time she had met evil men who had no aid from the supernatural to make them what they were, just an in grained darkness that gave them a contempt for all other things. She knew how to predict their action because evil twisted one into familiar patterns of behavior and the Nazgul despite their powers and their inability to die were no different. She knew what they were about even if she did not understand how they could exist.  She knew their fanaticism and their hatred; it was no different that of any crazed bomber who was prepared to die for his god. The only difference in this case was that the Nazgul's god was not some non-existence incorporeal entity whose existence would never be proven to any satisfaction but rather a dark lord encased in human flesh.
She loved Frank and his acumen but he had never met people like this and had no experience with understanding how they would act.

"Frank, they'll kill the boys no matter what we do," she said quietly.

He met her gaze with just as much understanding, "I know."

Miranda's brow arched.  "How do you know?"

"I know because we're never going to convince these Valar to hand over Saeran," he said with absolute certainty in his eyes. "Elladan and Elrohir haven't said as much but I can see it in their eyes."

"But we have the jewel…" Miranda started to say but Frank cut her off.

"We have a jewel that's been buried under the snow for the last one hundred thousand years, that the enemy can't do a thing with.  In fact, unless you're an elf or a Valar, it's a very pretty bauble that will burn your hand off the minute you tried to do anything. Oh I'm certain they'd like it back but not enough to unleash a monster like Saeran into the world again.  He almost destroyed this entire planet six months ago if Byran and his friends hadn't stopped him.  They're not going to release him so that he can come into this world to do it again, not for two boys."

Miranda wanted to protest, to say that these 'gods' that Elladan and Elrohir worshipped would not be so callous as to ignore the plight of Sam and Pip but she knew Frank was right. When she was in the service, it was an unpleasant reality that people had to be sacrificed for the greater good, even civilians who had done nothing to warrant such brutality. How many times has they watched the news to learn of the terrorist funded building that was bombed, even though it was highly possible that the janitorial or the maintenance staff had no terrorist aspirations and were simply doing a job when they were in the building. They had been sacrificed for the purpose of expediency and if Frank were right about these Valar, then it would be equally prudent for them to wash their hands of the situation.  The lives of two children against the fate of the world mattered little.

Except to her and Frank.

"Oh god…" she stammered.

"We're going to get them back," Frank said before her nerve crumbled. He hated to put things to her so starkly but Miranda had to know what was at stake. "If I have to make the exchange, I'll do it just to buy time but only so that you can get to the boys. You know I always knew you were strong and brave but I never knew how much until now. You were amazing, Mir," he replied with no small amount of awe in his eyes as he spoke, "when I saw you face up to that Nazgul, I never felt so lucky in my life that you're my wife. We'll get through this together Miranda and we'll get out children back, I promise you that."

Miranda swallowed thickly, wondering how it was possible for him to make her feel so safe even when she was frightened out of her mind. Frank's words had made her face up to possibilities that had been nagging at the back of her thoughts, fears she had not wanted to confront until now. However, he was right, they had to go into this knowing the agenda of those around them. There would be no help from these Valar even when Frank made his way across the sea to plead for the exchange. Ultimately, rescuing their children was their responsibility alone and they did not have a great deal of time to act.

By this time the others had reached them at the sidewalk although Frank suspected they might have lagged behind a little to allow he and Miranda to talk. Now that was accomplished, it was time to get moving.

"Let me do the talking when we get in," Eric said upon reaching them.

"Really?" Jason looked at the newsman.

"Yeah," Eric retorted, "I have plans too you know."

"But they mostly involve women you're planning on…"

"Will you trust me?" Eric barked before Jason could finish that sentence. "Look, I can get us in past the front doors at least. Can you translate if they don't understand English?" He looked at Frank.

"Marginally," Frank replied, "what do you want to do?"

"Exploit the human need to be on television," Eric grinned and took the lead.

"What?" Elrohir stared at the others in question.

"We'll explain later," Jason replied rolling his eyes and hurried to join his partner.

***********


The interior of the Malcolm branch in Oslo was exactly what would expect from a multi-billion dollar corporation. The building had not escaped the ravages of the previous night's catastrophe as evidenced by the broken glass and debris in the main foyer. It was clear that looters had smashed their way through the main entrance and had attempted to breach the upper levels of the building. Fortunately, the loss of power to the lifts, not to mention the locked doors had prevented any real damage from being done.  Maintenance crews and security personnel were zigzagging across the floor, all armed with satellite phones that were not limited were local network cells that cellular phones needed to operate. They were going about the business of clearing the damage as well as establishing interim security systems while the power was disabled.

Eric had not taken more than a dozen steps inside the building when he was suddenly confronted by a very large blond behemoth named Johan Richards as revealed by the nametag on his uniform. Judging by the way he marched imperiously towards them, Eric deduced immediately that the man was a security guard of some description although the weapon he wore at his hip was evidence enough of this already. Eric glanced over his shoulder long enough to indicate to Frank and the others that he would handle this. Hopefully Johan here would understand English because the ruse would lose all its flair if delivered through a translator.

"You speak English mate?" He asked the man, stepping up with a casual smile.

"I speak English," the man responded hesitantly, off balanced by his inability to demand of these strangers their purpose for being in the building at this time.

"Eric Rowan from Channel Nine News, Sydney," Eric greeted, extending a hand out and presenting his press card before turning to Jason. "You better have a look around the place and decide what you need, these people don't need us getting under their feet, do they? This is my news crew, they just need to look about and get a feel for what equipment we'll need. Got to work fast if we want to make the news back home," he fired at Johan who could only stare back in rising confusion.

"News?" He stammered.

"Yeah," Eric replied walking past him and surveying the place as Jason did the same, only in an opposite direction. "I must say its chaos all over the city Johan, news crews are flying in from all over the world. I was here to do a magazine show myself about the bloody fjords so I'm pretty lucky to get in ground up. Now were you here when the wave hit?"

"No," Johan muttered, his mind struggling to grasp the situation he was suddenly embroiled. "I was at home."

"Just as well," Eric retorted walking towards a shattered window, "it looks like it got pretty messy. Now, this is what I'll need. I figure a human interest angle to the catastrophe would be the best way to go. I'll need to talk to everyone who was here.  You look like you know the ins and outs of this company so if you could round them up, I'd much appreciate it. Also, I think I'd like to focus on you as the main crux of the story. My cameraman will follow you about during your survey of the wreckage, give the folks at home a chance to see things from your point of view, what do you think?"

"Me?" Johan was suitably flabbergasted by now.

"Of course you," Eric crossed the distance between them and patted the huge man on the shoulder. "You're the unsung hero of this entire place, the one who holds things together and makes sure that people keep their heads in crisis situation. That's what we want people to see. You will be the strong face of this tragedy. Now I know that your own countrymen will be after you for their local news but I am authorized by Channel Nine to pay you a generous fee if you let us have first crack. What do you think Jason?"

"I think we need a bit more light here," he glanced at Frank and the others, "what do you think?"

"I guess so," Frank answered, almost as mystified as Johan by Eric's words and the manner in which he delivered it, which was so utterly phony that it could only be interpreted as genuine and sincere. Fortunately, Johan did not look to be very intelligent and Eric obviously had more than ample experience manipulating public response.

"We'll need a couple of more spots in here, there's not a lot of natural light thanks to the light being shorted out," Jason added, giving Frank the impression this was not the first time the duo had used this particular trick to get into restricted places.

"That's fine," Eric agreed, not missing his cue in this hastily crafted play, "now Johan, we're going to have to take a look at the upper levels. My people need to know what kind of equipment we'll need. If you could let us go upstairs while you round up the people who were here, I'd appreciate it."

It appeared that by this time Johan had developed some measure of composure and had presence of mind enough to remark, "I will have to clear this with my superiors."

"Fine, fine," Eric said dismissively, "and while you're doing that, my people can get to work so that you can do what I ask when you do get your clearance. Look, the news business doesn't wait for anyone and I don't have time to waste. Suffice to say my boss Kerry Packer and David Saeran are golfing buddies so I don't think there will too much of a bother."

Eric glanced at the others to remain close to him as he started moving towards the door. There was just enough indecision in the man's face to convince Eric that he would allow them access.  Miranda followed without question, bringing with her Frank and the elves as Johan went to the staircase that was barred to them by a heavy steel door, fumbling with a set of shiny keys. There was still some measure of reluctance on his face but Eric's spiel had been delivered convincingly enough for him to give them access to the rest of the building.  Eric's face revealed nothing he waited for Johan to open the door.  Miranda was suitably impressed at how good an actor he was a supposed that it was a necessary trait of his profession.

When the door opened, Eric launched once more into his act, not about to rouse suspicion when they were so close to what they needed.

"Okay Johan," Eric grinned, "now when you get clearance from your people, don't forget to gather everyone in the lobby. I want to start taking notes for the interviews straight away.  Miranda, do you think he'll need some make up work?" He asked her.

With a perfectly manufactured smile, Miranda glanced briefly at Johan, before answering; "he's impressive the way he is but I may need to touch his coloring a little."

"Excellent," Eric answered and started to the open door, "see you in awhile Johan."

With that, all six of them disappeared into the darkened staircase, leaving one very confused security guard to go find a satellite phone in order to reach their Paris Headquarters.

**********

"I am impressed," Elladan said as they made their way up the staircase a short time later, "I do not recall Eomer of Rohan being so adept at deception."

"Thanks," Eric glanced over his shoulder as he struggled to see inside the darkened staircase that was really the fire stairs. "Like I said never underestimate the human need to take center stage. Most security guards I might are usually ex-police or something like that, people who are used to being in charge and like being in charge if you get what I mean. Their narcissism lends easily to exploitation."

"I'll take your word for it," Frank replied, grateful for any method that did not employ gunfire at this stage.

"Thanks for making me the bloody makeup girl you sexist twit," Miranda grumbled.

"Well if you were my sister in a previous life, I'm just making up for lost time," Eric said cockily through the darkness. "Besides, isn't it a brother's duty to make your life hell?"

"That is for certain," Elladan replied.

Elrohir snorted, "in that case it is time I told you that you are adopted."

"We are twins," Elladan reminded.

"There is no proof of that," his sibling countered. "All I know is that on the day I was born, you were there. We don't even look like twins.  Father is very eccentric, he probably found you discarded somewhere and took pity on you by surprising mother. After several hours of labor, who could tell where you came from?" Elrohir smirked devilishly.

"Well that answers that," Miranda declared through the darkness.

"What?" Frank asked, somewhat bemused by the twin's bickering.

"That men are idiots no matter how old they are."

***********

There is a place beneath the world so deep and forgotten that most do not believe it exists. In your heart, you know it does, like you know that souls are sometimes trapped in trees and evil finds the hearts of children the most fertile place to breed. There are things that you know despite what you have learnt, despite what books and science tells you.  You know it by instinct and by senses you cannot name but feel in every pore of your being.   Just like you know that heaven and hell exists and there is real reason to fear it. It exists in the way you live your life, in the adherence to morality as more than just acceptable behavior but at the real fear of being accountable when the dusk of your life finally claims you.

In his heart, Sam knew this place existed just like he knew that the Black Riders were real.  In his mind's eye and revealed to him only by dreams, he had seen it. There was a memory somewhere inside him, buried as deeply as this place was hidden in the depths of the world, that would explain it all but he had no way to access those important facts and so he was clambering in a darkness, almost as consuming as the place he was being taken to beneath the castle.

Sam knew he had been here before but how he knew, he could not say.

He felt Pip's fingers clenched within his, unable to ignore the shaking in his brother's hands. As they descended into the darkness, feeling the depths swallow them whole like the whale that had taken Pinocchio into its gullet, he knew Pip was near terrified out of his mind. Sam was no different but he was better at hiding it than his younger brother. The Nazgul that escorted them into this nightmare seemed oblivious to their deteriorating state of mind but Sam was certain that any fear displayed by either child would be a reason for him to gloat.   Sam would not allow him that satisfaction.

"Where are they taking us?" Pip stammered through his tears.

"Nowhere," Sam replied, "they're just trying to frighten us."

"We're going down so deep," Pip replied as he stared upward at the disappearing pinprick of light that was the surface.

When they had stepped into the lift, Sam had thought little of it except to find it curious that it was more like a mesh cage than its counterparts in most buildings. They had traveled downwards for many minutes, surrounded by a shaft that allowed them to see nothing. What light there was came from the illumination of a small service light at the top of the shaft. It was when the light almost disappeared that Sam saw the shaft disappearing and they began descending what seemed to be an enormous cavern. How far beneath the earth he could not say but he felt cold and it was a cold that was very different from the temperatures of Norway. 

The chill of ice pierced the walls of his heart the way it would pierce the skin. While he maintained his composure, Pip had lost control of his and his brother had started to weep as they continued downwards, suspended by wires and pulleys that lowered them further and further into this alien realm. The air smelt bad. It turned Sam's stomach because he could scent the stench of things rotten and dying. It reminded him of rotting leaves or worse. He began to imagine that all the bodies that were ever put into graves eventually found its place here.  The thought alone almost destroyed his sanity.

And yet there was something about this place that felt terribly familiar.

He could not understand why, but he knew he had been here before even though it was impossible. A place like, he would remember.  More than ever, he wished his mother and father were here, he wished it not only for himself but also for Pip.

"Where are we going?" Sam finally braved the question of the Nazgul.  For Pip's sake alone, they needed an answer.

"Where you cannot escape," the Nazgul hissed.


Sam turned away and swallowed, seeing nothing below but darkness and feeling this soul-crushing well of despair at realizing that the Nazgul was right. As Pip's tears grew in intensity, Sam began to realize that it may well be that neither of them would ever see mum or dad again.

There was really no escape from this place.

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