Nottingham's Loft
New York, NY
Wednesday, August 1, 2001

Nottingham stood in the center of the dojo area of the loft. He was wearing an old set of clothes, black pants and a long sleeve shirt. Suddenly, the Stone of his wedding band flashed brilliantly and the Witchblade gauntlet snicked into place on his left hand and forearm. Nottingham stared at it in wonder before looking up.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm ambidextrous."

"Mm, me too, especially since I only have the left one now," Lilianna murmured, already standing in full armor, her right hand wrapped in silver vines but no gauntlet. "Now try the full armor. Just imagine yourself going into battle, it's what I do."

It took a full minute, but soon he was standing in the same armor he had worn during the Periculum, the pieces forming over his clothes.

Lilianna sighed, "I was hoping your armor would tear your clothes as well."

He looked at her in surprise and, noting the wicked grin on her face, grinned back.

"Later," he promised.

Her grin turned into a happy smile, and he almost gave up on the idea of practicing with the Witchblade today. But he needed to master it, to be able to keep up with her and protect her if it ever became necessary. And, if he was honest with himself, he didn't like having a weapon that he wasn't an expert with.

"Why did it take so long?"

Lilianna blinked. "It didn't. I'm actually shocked it worked that fast. When I first got the Witchblade, I couldn't call on it at all, it chose when it wanted to work. Same thing with my mother, though she was able to call on hers a lot faster than I was since she was already a fully grown woman when she got it. If your speed is any indication, you'll soon surpass me with the Blade."

Nottingham realized that he had hurt her feelings by wanting to already be better than her, and he crossed the room to take her into his arms. The metallic sound of their armor meeting somehow already seemed normal.

"The Blade just knows that I want to keep you safe. I can't do that if I don't have any control. I'm sorry for pushing."

"It's alright." She kissed him gently and smiled. "If we're going to be the leaders of the Witchblade tribe, we'll both have to be better than I am. The Blade knows that too."

Lilianna stepped back away from him. "Okay, now the sword."

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1111 Faust Street
New York, NY
Wednesday, August 1, 2001

"Mr. Irons. If you are watching this tape, it means I have failed in my objective, and am most likely back in my own time. To prove that I am from the future, you will find files I stole from the Centre Archives in 2026 in the envelope with this video. My name is Marcus, and I am a member of the Black Dragons, the third team to go by that name so far as I know. A woman came back with me, and she is also a member of the Black Dragons, and the niece of the most powerful Pretender the Centre ever had, Jarod Blake. I would ask you to take my revenge against her, but I am sure you will have your own plans for her, which will be almost as good. Her name is Lilianna McCartey, daughter of Jake McCartey and Sara Pezzini ... "

Irons paused the video. If what Marcus said was true, it would explain why Sara had helped "Angel," for who else could be Lilianna? It would also explain why Green had disappeared after agreeing to kill "Angel" and why Nottingham had been able to truthfully answer that he had not killed his former brother-in-arms. Lilianna had probably killed Green herself. And lastly, it explained why Nottingham had fallen in love with her so quickly despite his training.

The thing that was most surprising about all of this was the fact that Jake McCartey was Lilianna's father. He was nothing special. A completely normal, flawed human male. What had made him worthy of being the father of such a potentially powerful woman?

Opening the envelope that had come with the video, he found three personnel files and a DSA disk. Unlocking the bottom right hand drawer of his desk, he lifted out a DSA player and inserted the disk. The image was of a training area and in the corner was the caption, "The Centre, Black Dragon Training Room, August 6, 2024."

The surveillance played back, and Irons watched in amazement as he himself walked into the room. It had been a long time since anything had amazed him.

To another man standing to the side, he ordered, "Bring them in."

Thirteen individuals dressed in the "uniform" of Centre captives, which looked a lot like hospital scrubs, marched in, four of them women. One of the women was the girl Nottingham called Angel, and one of the men was Marcus.

"Lilianna, prepare to defend yourself. The five of you, attack her."

What followed was an amazing flurry of activity that would have put the original Black Dragons to shame. Just as it looked like Lilianna would be overcome by her teammates, the Witchblade slid into place on her arms and she handily defeated everyone who attacked her, none of them out of commission permanently. Irons motioned the remaining Dragons into the fray, but they too were defeated.

At the end, Lilianna stood over one of the young men, a claymore in hand.

"Kill Derek," Irons ordered.

The sword disappeared and Lilianna gave him a dirty look. "No."

Anger ripped through Irons and he turned off the DSA. Looking through the files, which pertained to Lilianna, Marcus and Jarod individually, he came across notations in his own writing. One of these noted the sudden appearance of the Witchblade around Lilianna's neck at the age of thirteen, another confirming that although Lilianna now wielded the Blade, her mother still had hers. Yet another indicated that his future self was sorry he had killed Nottingham, for if the man destined to Wield the Blade had loved Lilianna, he would have had a way to control them both, and three times as many chances to get the Witchblade back for himself.

Irons restarted Marcus' tape, listening with full attention this time.

"... she was born in your office shortly after you killed her father and Nottingham. You took her from her mother and completely abandoned the idea of controlling Sara, knowing Lilianna was more important in the scheme of things. But things didn't go so great. Lilianna and I were sent back to stop the destruction of the universe, triggered by a demon god named Glorificus who eventually took control of Sara Pezzini's Witchblade. I suggest you not kill any of them but find a way to control them, perhaps through their families. Jarod is very important to Lilianna, and one of the most important people to him is his future wife, the woman known as Miss Parker in your time. If, even with all I've told you, you don't believe me, go to the abandoned warehouse you used to smuggle in a shipment of brainwashing drugs three years ago. There will be a VCR with a tape I think you'll find of interest in the office. Oh, and one more thing, I was the one who stole the prototypes from your lab, so you don't need to worry about corporate espionage."

The tape ended, and Irons punched a button on his intercom system. His secretary, a beautiful but emotionally frozen and professionally capable woman, walked in and moved her lips into the empty echo of a smile.

"Tell my chauffeur I'll be down in five minutes and send in the Lieutenant. Oh, and tell R and D that their prototypes were destroyed before they fell into the wrong hands and I expect three more sets within the week."

"Yes, sir." She made a notation on the notepad in her hand. "Shall I tell Security to stop Mr. Nottingham when he shows up?"

"No, it isn't time for that yet. Do tell them, however, to report his every move directly to me."

"Yes, sir."

Irons watched her hip-swaying walk as she left the room. Perhaps he should invite her to the mansion tomorrow night. She was good for an occasional dalliance, he gave her exactly what she expected, a good time and a nice bonus the following payday. Her allegiance was to him, but she harbored no delusions about her place in his life. He would have to consider promoting her somewhere down the line.

Several seconds after the door had shut behind her, it opened again to admit a man in his late thirties dressed in dark khaki green. His brown hair was a washed out shade and cut military short. His eyes were a muddy hazel and on the dull side. But Irons didn't employ him for his looks, or lack thereof. The Lieutenant had been dishonorably discharged for killing a man in a bar fight with his bare hands, a fight he had started.

Irons had hired him the next day. That had been nearly fifteen years ago. The Lieutenant, who hadn't gone by his real name for so long that Irons didn't remember what it was, was his "second shift" bodyguard, and the one he sent to take care of things that weren't quite important enough to send Nottingham to do. He had been the second choice since Nottingham had returned from his European training.

The Lieutenant and Nottingham had never met, but the older man had seen recordings of some of Nottingham's work. He had resented not being the top choice after Nottingham had assumed the role, and Irons knew he would have no qualms taking on more responsibility now that Nottingham had begun to stray. Writing down the address of the warehouse Marcus had described, Irons handed it to the Lieutenant.

"There should be a tape in a VCR in the office of this building. After you've swept the warehouse for anything unusual, bring it back here. Things are going to be changing in the next month. Do you feel you can handle your old responsibilities again?"

Irons didn't need to clarify that this meant the Lieutenant would be his right hand once more.

The Lieutenant nodded and asked, "Do I get to kill him?"

"No, he's more valuable alive. He will not be informed of any change until I feel it is time. I will have to decide exactly what I'm going to do with him."

"Yes, sir." Knowing he was dismissed, the Lieutenant left the room.

Irons sighed. As capable and ruthless as the Lieutenant could be, he would never be Nottingham's equal. Irons was still incensed that the clones of Nottingham had been destroyed, and he wondered if it had anything to do with Lilianna. But that wouldn't explain the white-haired young woman on surveillance that Dr. Sandeman assured him could not be from Manticore, despite her barcode.

The oldest Manticore transgenic was still only ten years old, and the X-4s, the first transgenics to actually appear completely human, were toddlers. The X-5s had been born at the end of last year. The trail had ended there. The girl with white hair was a complete mystery. Her picture did not appear in any database, and she hadn't left a single fingerprint in the mansion.

Irons regretted, once again, the failure of the rest of the Black Dragons to remain obedient to him. Perhaps he could find a way to bring Mobius and McGill back under his control once the Witchblade situation was resolved. Either that or he would have Lilianna, Sara or Nottingham kill both of them once the three people linked to the Witchblade were his to command. But would Lilianna's life be enough to keep both Sara and Nottingham in line? Only time would tell. As for trying to capture Jarod as Marcus had suggested, the Centre had been trying to do that for five years with no luck. As soon as things here were straightened out, he'd have to make a trip to Blue Cove and decide whose fault it was.