"Sweet Jesus," the light, tenor voice whispered in shock. "John?" The man's piercing green eyes were wide with surprise, his red hair short and streaked with strands of white. He was tall, angular, and aristocratic, his good manners and breeding apparent, even in his open-mouthed surprise.
"Not quite." Alan forced a smile, glancing at the man who was standing above them on a staircase. "Remember Panama, summer of '72?" he asked.
"What - Alan?" Martin's eyes almost bulged out of his head.
"Yes."
"This - this is - extraordinary-"
"Exactly. I've come to talk to you about the League, Martin," said Alan, climbing the lushly carpeted stairs.
"You know I can't - who's that with you?" Martin's face was a mixture of surprise, shock, and annoyance.
"Allow me to introduce my colleagues, Dr. Edward Jekyll, sans Mr. Hyde for the moment, Dr. Wilhamina Harker, Captain Nemo, Tom Sawyer, and the elusive Mr. Skinner. We are - in a League of our own, if you will." Alan smiled slightly, knowing that Martin would understand his meaning.
"But that's not possible - I mean how - no one could have without - I would have known if - but this is not - I just don't believe that - Alan, how?"
Alan smiled, pushing open the door to Martin's study and gesturing inside as the rest of the League followed him. "Shall we discuss this in its proper place, Martin?" Behind closed doors? was what Alan was really asking.
"Of course." Martin put on a stiff smile. "Where are my manners. Follow me, please."
Martin St. Lawrence led the League into his study, and a book pulled from the bookshelf revealed a passageway hidden behind the wall.
"Well, isn't that familiar?" Skinner asked, to no one but himself.
Once they had reached an underground chamber and were secured behind rock walls and doors of solid oak, seated with little ado, Martin began.
"Alan, what the bloody hell are you doing here? And if you don't mind my asking, you're looking mighty fit for a man your age."
Alan smiled a little, the expression grim. Without any preamble, he strode into the account of their most recent adventures. From their gathering as a part of the League to the realization of the purpose behind their summons, Martin relaxed and calmly accepted the story. With the revelation of Moriarty's involvement, however, he sat up straight, a grim cast on his features.
At the conclusion of Alan's tale - a good hour after it's beginning - Martin sat back in his chair, his thoughtful gaze fixed upon the wall opposite him, over Alan's head. "An interesting tale. Moriarty led you to believe that he was 'keeping the government busy', as you so aptly put it?"
Alan nodded, taking a drink from a glass of water at his side.
"I don't like the implications of that . . . "
"Nor do we," replied Tom.
Martin glanced at him closely. "Am I to take it that the American Central Intelligence Agency has a distinct wish to put these . . . difficulties to rest?"
"I've been . . . advised to join the League," Tom said, and Alan raised a brow. Ordered was probably more like it. "My superiors would like to permanently extend my services to you as a gesture of goodwill and cooperation between the protective forces of our countries."
Alan was surprised - he had most definitely not suspected Tom for a diplomat, yet the boy continued to shock.
"Thank you," replied Martin, giving the offer all the consideration and respect it demanded. "I would be most glad to accept you into the League." He glanced around at all the others in the room. "The offer extends to the rest of you as well," he said. "I'll admit that we are a bit short, due to the fact that we can no longer trust anyone even remotely associated with Moriarty - and that rules out a good few of our newest members."
"Well, I'm in," said Skinner immediately, surprising the rest of the group. At the somewhat shocked expressions, his white-painted face morphed into a smile. "It's been a wild ride, and more than a bit of fun. How else can I blow things up on a grand scale without all the fuss'n'muss afterward?"
Alan had no answer, and apparently neither did anyone else.
After a few moments of silence, Jekyll said simply, "I will join."
Mina smiled. "Quite an intrepid move, Doctor. Would you mind some company?" Jekyll shook his head, and Mina continued, "I think it would be interesting, for a time at least. I offer my skills. And you, Captain?"
Nemo was silent for a moment, thinking. "This has been a different time in my life, in which I have experienced teamwork and friendship. That should not be so swiftly disregarded. I, too, will join."
All eyes now turned to the revitalized hunter sitting directly opposite Martin. There were several moments of silence.
"I cannot, at this time." Shock reverberated around the room - to have led them this far, and now abandonded them? The other League members were surprised, and Martin too was perturbed.
"Why, Alan? Why come at all if not to join us?" Martin finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him and causing him to break the shocked silence hanging over the group.
The hunter sat forward, making eye contact with each person in turn. "I am not as I was," he freely admitted, before sitting back and looking Martin straight in the eye. "Martin, I know you are the soul of curiosity, and yet your manners have held you back from asking the obvious questions. So I will answer them for you.
"I was killed in the fight against Moriarty. My friends were kind enough to bury me in my beloved Africa. Africa, however, was not content to let me stay dead. I was brought back to life, to be a protector of the land. I am connected to it, in every bone and fiber of my being.
"Now, there is a threat to Africa. There is a man, who steals the people from the land and hunts them brutally like animals. I must bring him to justice, to protect the people and the land. Not only does Africa demand this of me, but I demand this of myself, and I believe that John does, too." Alan glanced at Martin, whose eyes grew wide at the mention of his friend's long-dead son.
"You can't possibly mean-"
"The General has resurfaced once more, Martin."
The red-haired man swore, pushing himself from the chair to pace. "Are you sure you cannot join us, Alan?" he asked abruptly, turning toward the hunter.
Alan snorted, taking another sip of water. "I know you allow your members a lot of freedom, Martin, in ways of methods and time. Yet I do not know my limits with this new connection to the land, and I do know that if there is a threat to Africa then that must supercede all my other priorities. Can you deal with an agent who may be forced to abandon a mission mid-stride in order to take care of a problem that may exist entirely across the globe?"
"Surely this is not so serious a situation as all that," Martin objected.
Alan frowned. "It is more serious than you can imagine," he returned.
"How so?" Martin paced, anxiously demanding an answer. After hearing of their exploits, he had no doubt that Sawyer would be a competent leader for this group, and yet Alan was invaluable for his skills and leadership qualities. And now, all that experience with a much younger body - the man had a whole other life ahead of him, and would be an indispensable addition to the League.
"Martin, I cannot ignore the calling of Africa." Quatermain's voice was like ice. "I experience the deaths of each of the men killed by the General. I see them die, and I feel their agony. I feel what Africa feels - and the land is more than aware of the sufferings of her people."
Astounded, Martin stared at Alan. "But if we could accept it, make allowances for your - your connection, and your duty to Africa, would you join then?"
Alan thought for a moment, dark brows drawn down over his eyes. He was turning options, pros and cons, over in his head. "Yes," he said finally. "If you were able to make the concessions for whatever I felt I needed to do in my duties to Africa, I would join."
"Consider it done," said Martin abruptly, continuing to pace. "Is this new situation acceptable to all?"
Looking around, and neither hearing nor seeing any obvious disapproval, Martin continued. "Right, then. Your first task, to be undertaken immediately, is the elimination of General Zaroff."
(Ok, this is not actually an update, just a quick next-day editing brought on by a wonderful review from FUNYUN, whose enthusiasm - along with the insistence of ffnet to ignore any notations of mine that denote plot switches - inspired me to tread into the realm of (yikes, iee!) chapters. gulp. I've had issues with them before, and don't like 'em. So this is not an actual update, just a re-working of the format for more reader-friendliness. Thanks FUNYUN!!)