Author: Mirrordance

Title: For Every Evil

Summary: Legolas is a policeman in 2004. His colleagues start to wonder why the 10-yr veteran doesn't age & more trouble ahead after he runs across the Fellowship & some friends in modern incarnations, resurrected along with a new world-threatening peril.

35: Blackout

The Hotel Ballroom,

Sinop, Turkey,

Mid-2004

Blackout.

"Blast," Goran muttered as the lights faded over their heads with a dying whir. There was a bit of a collective, surprised gasp in the room and truly, if one was not used to a life of chaos, a night of conspiracy, theft and darkness must be rather scary indeed.

"Generators should kick in in a few moments," Haldir said evenly, "The hotel's at least a three-star, it shouldn't be a problem."

"How long will they keep us here, you think?" Ana asked.

"I doubt anyone truly knows what to do," said Haldir, "We've all been searched, as have all the rooms and bags and things. People are getting restless and though they wish to cooperate, impatience and resulting dissent is growing and this is fed by the fact that most of us know we allow their searching more by our grace than because we are forced by the hand of law. It shouldn't be long."

"You don't sound all that pleased about it," Ana noticed.

"I like having Baggins and the Malcolms confined to a space," Haldir replied, "When they leave here they will likely go to the Amazona, out in the middle of a raging sea, where it will be harder of us to keep track of them."

"Well in that sense," said Goran, "We will be relieved of our duties. The others certainly have the barge in their charge."

"I do not like sitting around and waiting," Haldir said, "It makes me nervous."

Goran smirked a bit. "Well imagine what ol' Legolas is doing. He must be tearing all his hair out."

"He'll do no such thing," said Haldir, "He has quite the love for that head of hair, doesn't he?"

The generators did indeed work and light up the room in a few minutes, albeit more conservatively and not as lavishly. But the distraction had already done its job, at least for the opportunistic or the highly desperate.

Haldir looked around the room with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Dean Malcolm was nowhere to be found.

The Amazona,

The Black Sea

The imposing Amazona was a twenty-year-old barge that saw its older days as a cargo ship ferrying miscellaneous goods across the seas before it was sequestered by the government (some old charge a few years back of illegal goods and a lot of bad debts…) and sold to a British research team at a bargain.

The Amazona was named for the legendary founders of her Sinop home, the Amazons. The Brits kept the name, thinking changing it was courting bad luck, though the Amazona in their hands mostly saw seas that were away from Turkey and the Black Sea region.

A few years back, a team of explorers from the National Geographic Society excited the world with their theories and explorations of the Black Sea region, and so the team of the Amazona was not far behind them in learning more.

She was a large ship, built like a cargo barge and modified by the years, now bearing a built-in dredger and crane. The crane hauled up finds and hauled down the undersea probing machines. The dredgers displaced the mud and silt of any undersea work area. The large machines likely took up a third of the space, but the Amazona was so large it easily accommodated for much more.

She rose up four levels over sea, topped by a sundeck and a tower that held the navigation bridge. Deck D, the lowest, held the engines and some storage space. Deck C held the sleeping quarters of staff, crew and guests. Deck B was the mess hall and recreation rooms and gym. Deck A held all the offices, equipment control rooms and generally the work areas.

Grima Wormtongue was making quick work of securing all these places. Of course he began with shooting the man who met them at the helipad on the starboard side of the sundeck. And then he sent his mercenaries up to secure the tower that held the navigation bridge. And then he split up his group and they barreled down the halls of deck after deck, to round up every single body aboard that ship.

He himself flanked the team that pursued Meriadoc Brandybuck, Peregrin Took, the Shieldmaiden of Rohan and Faramir of Gondor in Deck B. He was not in a rush, for he knew he was bound to get them sooner or later. There were very few places to go to in any ship, even one as large as this.

The structure of the decks was basic; long halls with few turns lined by doors of rooms and offices. There was an elevator situated almost exactly at the half-point of the ship, while narrow stairwells were situated on either end— the portside (to the left) and starboard side (to the right).

The group Grima Wormtongue's team was pursuing wisely did not make for the lumbering elevators. They instead headed for the stairwells and were quickly making their way up Deck A, past it, then up to the sundeck.

Grima laughed scornfully from behind them. "Give it up, fools," he said over the growing din of the rain. The nearer they got to the open air of the sundeck, the louder the sounds of the storm became. "There really isn't anywhere to go."

"That's not true, is it?" Pip asked breathlessly as they broke through to the sundeck. Faramir and Eowyn hastily closed the door of the stairwell behind them, barricading it with an oar they stole from one of the nearby lifeboats.

"That won't hold for very long," Eowyn said.

The sundeck of the Amazona of course had no roof, topping the decks and rising over the turbulent sea. They were by now breathless and cold and soaking wet, and very much almost caught.

"Legolas we are at the sundeck," Faramir said over the comm., "Where are the others?"

"We are anchoring portside," said Elrohir.

"Anchoring where?" Eowyn exclaimed.

"From where you are," said Legolas evenly, apparently knowing exactly where everybody was from the maps he had, "Move to your left, the far end of the ship. That's the portside. Elrohir and the others will be right below."

Eowyn and Faramir each grabbed a hobbit by the arm and hastily dragged them in the direction Legolas said. Sure enough, as they looked over the railing of mighty Amazona, a veritable putt-putt of a sailing vessel was alongside the barge, swaying madly with the winds and the black, black waves.

"Where in the world did they get that untenable vessel?" muttered Faramir in displeasure.

"Rope," Eowyn said, looking around her desperately. There were of course, luckily many of these things aboard any ship. She'd surely have preferred the rope ladder of their earlier encounter, but they left the rope and anchored the Ino on the other end of the ship.

"What do you mean rope?" Merry asked in a little voice, even as he knew they were likely meant to scale down the height of the Amazona to the rickety vessel below.

Eowyn and Faramir, with deft, sure fingers, secured two ropes to the railing and tossed the other end down to the waiting hands of Emmett below. He tied that other end to the railing of their commandeered ship, and waved down the hobbits and his sister and friend.

"Go on, Mister Took," said Faramir, "I guarantee you; you've scaled towers of a much greater height than this before."

Pip Took shot him a nervous look. Reincarnation, there it was again, and there was something else too about this man that gave him a measure of… comparability with their hostage below decks. He took a fearful step away from Faramir.

"Mark," he said to his friend, "I'm really not so sure about these guys anymore."

"Pip," said Mark, hands clasping right for the ropes as he heard the stairwell doors burst from behind them, "The way I see it, we can do this two ways. There are two groups after us and we're in this thing so deeply over our heads that I'm sure one of them will get us. So we can either go with pretty Eowyn and the guy who doesn't want to marry her, or the laughing creepy guy who's telling us to give up because there isn't anywhere else to go. What say you?"

"I'd say," Pippin declared with a deep breath, "I've scaled towers of a much greater height than this before."

A Commandeered Putt-Putt,

The Black Sea

Rolling with the punches was a clever rule of thumb when it came to sailing the high, turbulent seas. Angry or playful Manwe was the largest punch of all, stirring the waves and the winds of such fantastic magnitude that to fight it might with might was a futile exercise. It was analogous to grasses bending with the storm winds, against trees that stubbornly held their ground to defy them. At the end of the day, trees toppled and bent grass rose again with the rising of the sun.

And so it was that when it came to commandeering a sailing vessel from the Sinop docks, Elrohir took one look at the compact little ship and decided that this one was for him. It swayed easily with the will of winds and the waves, was light and easy to handle. Only the gods know where the storm will take them, yes, but it will not destroy their ship.

Emmett of course thought he was crazy, and Gandalf was simply focused on getting to the Amazona to care. Nevertheless, there they were, relatively safe and sound, and he could see the shadows of Faramir, Eowyn, and two lanky young adults standing over the railing, looking down at them.

"Sail them to shore and safety," Gandalf said to Elrohir, "You're the only one of the three of us who can. Eomer and I shall take to the Amazona, and end this tonight."

A Motel Room,

Sinop, Turkey

It was the last thing Legolas heard from the comm. links, before his laptop shut down and literally and figuratively left him alone and in the dark.

He took a deep, shaky breath. His cellphone rang, and he answered it at once, seeing that the call was from Haldir.

"Legolas," said the Interpol Agent, "When the lights went out here in the ballroom, Dean Malcolm managed to give us the slip. Now the generators are on and we were not able to take the same opportunity. We are stuck in here, and he is out."

"He will head for the Amazona," said Legolas, "Wormtongue is already there. I will follow."

"The others have the Amazona covered," Haldir pointed out, "Just hold your ground."

"There are many ways in between the hotel, the docks, and the barge," reasoned Legolas, "The Ankh could very well be anywhere there. We've lost much time as it is, I must find him."

"Legolas…" muttered Haldir, although he truly did not know what else to say to counter the Mirkwood elf's logic.

"Besides," said Legolas, "The comm. links are officially out. I can serve no other purpose but this, and I am the only one who presently can. Haldir… the very breath they release you from that room, go to this seedy motel a block from there, room 411. You can't miss it, a bit of a seedy, rowdy place. I will leave the door unlocked, and you folk go manage the laptop and the comm. links as soon as the electricity returns, or you can bring the equipment back to our hotel room where the generators work. I must go now."

"Just be careful," Haldir said resignedly, "This is just great, elf. Utterly fantastic. We've just unwittingly left you to your own disastrous devices."

Legolas almost laughed, "Thank you for the faith, Marchwarden. And check that tongue, you might be spending too much time with Gimli."

Docking Bay,

Black Sea Coast,

Sinop, Turkey

The cab screeched to a stop and Dean Malcolm hastily ran out to the nearest shed he could find, to shield himself from the wind and the rain. He scanned the ships on the docks, and frowned when he did not sight the Ino.

He grabbed his cellphone and dialed for the sailors he drafted into service. The number kept ringing and ringing, but no one was answering. Muttering a curse, he dialed Grissom Warrington's number and got him at the second ring.

"My ship is not here," he said plaintively.

"Where are you?" Warrington snapped.

"At the docks," said Malcolm, "I sneaked out of the hotel, I was bound to be discovered it might as well be now, while I can escape. I need passage to the Amazona."

"Where the hell is my Ankh?" asked Warrington.

"You'll have it when I am in the clear," Malcolm said, "I'm not fool enough to just give it to you when you can still leave me out here to be caught. My money?"

"You can check your offshore account," Warrington said, "I will send a chopper for you at the docks immediately."

"Hurry," Malcolm said, looking around him worriedly as he ended the call.

Finn Baggins and Sam Granger's Quarters

Deck C,

The Amazona,

The Black Sea

"Where the hell are Mark and Pip?" Sam said, looking worriedly at the door, "It never takes them more than three minutes to finish a barrel of food."

Finn glanced at Brad nervously, said nothing as he too turned toward the door.

"They couldn't get in here, could they?" asked Sam, "We have all sorts of guards in all sorts of places!"

"They found us to our homes in Britain," said Finn, "and they," he nodded toward Brad, "good or bad-- found us in Sinop. I cannot discount it."

Brad shifted uncomfortably in the seat he was tied to. If any of their foes reached the Amazona before the rest of the new Fellowship, they'd find him in a rather convenient position, wouldn't they…

"I can't stand this," said Sam, "I'm coming to get them. You'd think Mark and Pip would have the presence of mind to behave in times like these—" he cut himself off, frowning, "Or maybe not."

Finn smiled a little at the other's belated realization.

Sam sighed, stepping toward the door. He pulled it open and peered out, just before slamming it closed again and leaning his back against it.

"Strangers coming down the hall," Sam said to Brad and Finn urgently. "Friends of yours?"

"I'm not sure," Brad admitted, shifting in his seat again, "Did you get a good look at them? Did you see any pointed ears?"

Sam just frowned at him and deigned to reply. "I saw them dragging out the sleeping folk from the other rooms. They're about eight, ten doors away from ours."

"Dragging out sleeping folk?" Brad said, "That does not sound like any friend of mine. You must flee."

"And go where?" Sam snapped, "We're in the middle of the sea."

"Hide it out," Brad said quickly, "The barge is large, you've been here a few days and you'll know it more than these intruders. You must go, you must hide. Quickly now, away with you!"

Sam looked at Finn with wide eyes.

"We will do as he says," Finn said tentatively, as if he was coming to another, more quiet decision. Taking a deep breath, he stepped toward Brad to undo his bonds.

Sam peered out the door and closed it behind him just as quickly. "They are coming this way, we must hurry!"

"Leave it be!" Brad urged, "Frodo, leave it!"

"No," Finn said, "If these are foes of yours, they cannot find you in this way, I cannot allow it. Blast these boy scout knots of Mark's!"

"They are coming," Brad said, trying to squirm away from Finn, "Damn it, kid, just leave."

"I can't undo these cursed knots," Finn murmured, trying to think quickly.

"That's right, you can't," said Sam, "Let's just go. We're not even absolutely sure we can trust this guy."

"He's right," said Brad earnestly, "I'm one of them, really."

Finn shook his head in dismay, turning toward the door. Sam followed, thinking his friend was heeding their advice at last. But instead of running down the hall and away from the intruders who were breaking into door after door and dragging out and securing their occupants, he sailed straight into the cabin across from theirs.

"What are you doing?" Sam whispered, looking in panic at the busy, black-clad intruders who were busy at the other end of the hall and was still oblivious to them.

"I'm in Dr. Malcolm's quarters," replied Finn, scanning the small room urgently. "There's bound to be a knife, a pair of scissors, a razor, gods, even a pen, anything at all to that effect in here."

"We must go," Sam urged, "Finn, we have a chance, they do not yet know we know they are coming. We must go!"

"I won't take long," Finn said distractedly, falling to his knees as he searched the various cabinets. His quick hands tore through clothes, and papers, until his fingers closed around something smooth, slim and coolly metallic. He drew it out from the cabinet, and rose to his feet before he got a look at exactly what it was that he found. It wasn't until after he practically dived back into the room across from Dr. Sean Malcolm's, the one that he and Sam shared, and Sam shut the door behind him, that he realized he was holding the Black Sea Ankh.

The Sundeck,

The Amazona,

The Black Sea

Eowyn watched her brother secure Merry and Pippin into the boat, and then leave them there as he and Gandalf climbed up the rope to join in the fray aboard the Amazona. The raging waters were black beneath them, and Eowyn awaited their climb with a wildly beating heart. The sound thundered in her ears as much as the literal thunder of the skies, and as much as the duller booming sounds from the mercenaries who were struggling to pound at the door and into the sundeck where they stood.

Her own heart broke with the shattering of the door and the bursting forth of their enemies. She readied her stance, aiming her gun carefully, as Faramir did beside her.

Emmett pulled himself up to the deck, and pondered for a moment if he should ready his own stance or assist Gandalf in climbing. He decided on the former; he can best protect the 'old man' if his climbing was uninterrupted by their foes.

And so a curious stalemate held between Faramir, Eowyn and Emmett against Grima Wormtongue and a team of ten men. They all had guns trained against each other.

"Well here we all are," Grima said over the sound of the rain, a sick smile on his face, "What a fix."

Eowyn watched curiously, as team split up into two, one half surrounding the three of them and the other half heading for one of the choppers.

"It's not such a fix, Warrington," Emmett said to his enemy, "Your men will have to aim against three of us, but we'll all be aiming only toward your black heart. In the end, none of the three of us may remain standing but I assure you, you will surely be on the ground with the rains washing away at your lifeblood."

Wormtongue sighed melodramatically, "That would be tragic, wouldn't it? A bit of a fix for my own self, then. What to do…"

It was at this time that Gandalf emerged, pulling himself up on the railing. With a manic glint in his eye, Grima Warrington aimed for the Istari and fired without hesitation.

"No!" Emmett exclaimed, as the old man lost his grip and fell down to the brutal sea below.

Wormtongue's men wisely used the distraction. As Eowyn, Faramir and Emmett instinctively and unfortunately vainly tried to reach for their friend, the mercenaries assaulted them.

Emmett and Faramir were both targeted by two men each, while an unfortunate, singular fellow underestimated Eowyn of Rohan and went after her. These mercenaries knew their work and decided to play for keeps. Though, perhaps under orders to take the new Fellowship alive, they did not shoot, gun barrels were quickly used in the most appropriate of places to deal the worst harm.

No sooner did Faramir turn to once again face his foes that he received a crippling strike to the side of the head, making him stagger and cling to the metal bars of the railing for support. He lashed out blindly, fists connecting with a hard wall of muscle, making one of his opponents cry out and step back. But the cleverer one used Faramir's injury and distraction by striking at him again and this time, to the back of his head, rendering him unconscious. As his vision blurred toward inky blackness, he smiled to himself a little at the sight of his wife giving her captor quite some grief.

One simply does not kill the Shieldmaiden of Rohan's friends, injure those whom she loved dearly, and expect to escape without getting hurt. Her opponent threw his arms over her head and held her in a death grip that cut off her air, but not her anger and determination. Crying out in invoking her strength, she stomped at his instep, and his grip on her loosened. When she elbowed at his ribs, he lost his hold on her altogether, doubling over in an attempt to regain his breath. Eowyn did not hesitate to swing her gun up against his face with as much force as she could, and he fell witless to the ground.

Unfortunately, he was not her only foe by the time she downed him, and one of Faramir's triumphant charges took her in his arms, and pressed a gun to her temple.

Though Emmett seemed preoccupied with his own woes, it was of no surprise that he must have been watching her fight from the corner of his eye. He stilled his movements, stepped away from his foes and looked her way the very breath she fell into her captor's lethal embrace.

She stared at her brother's face determinedly, not bothering to waste her breath and tell him not to heed the threat to her, to keep fighting, et cetera. He wouldn't listen anyways, and their collective strength was likely best focused on regaining their wind and biding their time.

Emmett smirked at her irritated but resigned glare and shrugged as he tossed his weapons to the ground. One of his opponents kicked his guns away, while the other hit him soundly in the face.

They fought valiantly, yes, but all three were hurt and bruised and bleeding on the wooden deck in no time at all. Wormtongue towered over them triumphantly as the chopper took to the turbulent skies above him.

The Docking Bay

Black Sea Coast

Sinop Area, Turkey

Legolas redoubled his running efforts as he sighted the chopper beginning its descent. Sure enough Dean Malcolm stood beneath it in wait, and more of the black-clad mercenaries from before were attending to the aircraft; a pilot, a co-pilot, and three gunmen sat in the cabin with arms poised and ready.

Legolas hid in the shadows as Dean Malcolm jogged up to ride the chopper even before it landed and stilled. As the chopper turned and began to rise once again, Legolas dashed forward and jumped up to cling at the landing skids of the helicopter. He was light of weight, and cautious, so hopefully they wouldn't be able to detect him. He hoped too that he would be able to hang on despite the bumpy ride, despite the fact that the rains made the skids slippery and his grip tenuous, and despite the fact that his own weaknesses made his arms quake.

He realized how much of a hopeful being he was as the chopper rose up to the air and his feet left solid ground.

It was kind of like riding a mumakil, he reflected, tightening his grip. He looked below him miserably. They've left the docks and were now flying over the raging black, Black Sea.

It would be a sad shame if I fell, he thought wryly.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Hey guys!!! Thanks so much to those who read and those who reviewed. I'm midway through to Chapter 36 now, and I'm feeling that I'm nearing the end very much. At this point, my mind is just going nuts with new plots, but it will be a long while after For Every Evil until I post, because I'll be out of the country for a bit. Anyway, I'm working hard and hopefully, I'll finish this before we leave because you know I hate making you wait for very long. I'll have an extended reply and thanks to all my reviewers by chapter 40, as well as my favorite notes at the end of the story. I hope you guys still stick with me throughout because I know it's getting crazy and confusing and sometimes I wonder if the quality suffers because I get so excited to finish and start something new. Anyway, THANKS SO MUCH!!!

In chapter 36, more action for Legolas and Aragorn! And btw, that wasn't a typo, the Ankh was really found in Sean Malcolm's quarters. Deceptions abound! Hope you had fun and TIL THE NEXT POST!!!