A/N: Thanks to everyone (esp: Queen isa, girl with the green eyes, Charmed Ravenclaw, Andrea4, Shadow Dark Night, Miaka Summers, chattypandagurl, Zeria, IcantthinkofaFnick, charmedtomeetyou.) for taking the time to press that little button and letting me know your thoughts on the storyline. I am humbled by the number of you who've put up with my amateurish phrasing in No Fate to my plot stumbles in Redundant and overly long rambling here in Providence.
Providence
Chapter 11
Above ground, the earth burns and smokes from the fires of our war, consuming all that lie in its path. This is a place worse than hell.
– from the journals of Chris Halliwell.
Son of a bitch, she thought. She couldn't believe that she fallen for every word Wyatt had told her about her mother's death – hook, line and sinker. The misgivings her gut instinct had screamed at her about Chris had been right. Wyatt had lied to her.
Worse, adding insult to injury, he thought she was fool enough to believe his lies.
And she had.
Disgusted with herself, how could I have let myself be so easily deceived? she felt an uncontrollable urge to kill. She had thought the need for vengeance when she had first learned of her mother's death had been all consuming…all encompassing.
It wasn't even a tenth of the desire for revenge she felt now.
Every nerve, every muscle, screamed at her to follow Wyatt back to his private quarters and deal him the death he so richly deserved. Only her supreme willpower kept her from dashing out from her hiding place and following through on that desire.
Sweat poured into her eyes.
Wiping it away with the back of her hand, she forced herself to concentrate. Although rushing out and killing Wyatt was what she wanted, no, needed, to do, getting herself killed wouldn't help her achieve her goal.
After all, she wanted to live to savour her revenge.
Creeping forward, she inched her way along the darkly lit corridors. Though dimly lit, she knew it would only be a matter of time before she was spotted. She needed somewhere to hide, somewhere to stay out of sight until the right opportunity presented itself.
And she knew it would.
Patience, she cautioned herself. It was something all good assassins learned. She could still hear her mother's advice, guiding her. Wait for it.
Cautiously, she leaned back, trying to see around the corner without giving too much of herself away. She breathed a sigh of relief; it was empty. Picking up her pace, she moved ahead again.
She froze, holding her breath.
She heard footfalls coming towards her. Quickly.
Looking frantically around, she searched desperately for someplace to hide. Her eyes zeroed in on the heavy chrome plated door about half way down the hall. Without a second's thought, knowing that any minute she'd be discovered, she dashed over to the door, yanked it open and slipped inside.
The room was pitch black.
Letting her highly honed assassin skills assess the situation, she sensed she was alone. She slowly let out the breath she had been holding, leaning heavily against the door. Gathering up her nerve, she slowly opened the door, revealing a tiny crack of light into the dark room. Peering out with one eye, she waited for the demons she'd heard approaching to pass her line of sight.
Zankou…, she blinked, recognizing Wyatt's right hand man. She squinted, trying to get a better read on the situation. He was talking with another demon, one she didn't recognize.
"My lord Wyatt wishes to commence phase two tomorrow evening…"The demon grumbled something in response.
"…the Resistance…make sure everything is in place…"
She silently cursed as the two began to move out of sight. She cupped her hand around her ear, straining to over hear what the two were discussing.
"…train station…surprise…they won't know what hit them…"
And the two demons laughed maliciously before moving out of earshot.
Bianca let the door close, once again enveloping the room in total darkness.
What the hell?It was time.
Chris hoisted the duffel bag over his shoulder, feeling the comfortable weight settle in the groove between his neck and shoulder. Glancing around the room to make sure he didn't miss anything, his eyes alighted on the framed photograph sitting prominently on his desk.
A picture of his family – he vaguely remembered the day the photo had been taken. His mother had noted that the last one taken had included a somewhat blurry Leo and Chris was still a baby. It was time for a new one, she had decreed, come hell or high water. She had picked up Wyatt and himself from school that afternoon, driving them directly to the photographer's studio to meet their father. He remembered how he had squirmed and fussed, until thoroughly exasperated with him, Piper had raised her voice at him, reprimanding him sharply.
It had been one of the few times in his entire life that his mother had ever had to raise her voice at him.
Chastened, he immediately ceased his fidgeting, resigned to the fact that his picture would be taken, whether he liked it or not. Hence, his slight pout amongst everyone else's happy smiles.
He also remembered how disappointed his mother had been when the portrait had arrived.
He was watching from around the corner when Piper sighed and placed the portrait up on the wall. Realizing that his mother was disappointed by his sulk in the portrait, he felt crushed with guilt. Running up to Piper, he stretched his arms as far up as he could, wrapping them around her waist, hugging her hard. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said. "I'll make it up to you, really I will."
His mother hunkered down onto the floor next to him, so that her eyes were on the same level as his. "Chris," she explained slowly, "I know you didn't want to get your picture taken, but I thought you would understand how important it was to me. To our family."
"We can take another picture, can't we?" he asked, anxiously.
"Of course we can, peanut," his mother agreed patiently. "But you understand it's not about the portrait? It's that you didn't understand how important this was for our family. Family comes first, Chris. Always."
"I'm sorry," he replied, shamefacedly. "I promise I won't ever again."
Pulling him into her strong embrace, he felt his mother press a soft kiss on the top of his head. "I'm counting on you to keep that promise."
Before shutting the door to his quarters, he stared at the photograph one last time, looking into the brown eyes of his mother, her gaze full of love.
Guilt ate away at his soul.
I'm sorry, Mom. So damned sorry.
A match flared, revealing a small table and several chairs.
Bianca grimly surveyed the contents of the room around her. Her eyes alit on a torch sitting in its sconce next to the door. Grabbing it, she quickly set her match to its head, smiling with grim satisfaction as the torch flared to life. Dropping the match to the floor, she stomped out the small flame and held the torch aloft. She moved around the room, poking her fingers into things, investigating.
Moving towards the table, she turned her head this way and that, studying the map laid out upon it. She blinked as she realized that the map was of the San Francisco area. Peering closer, her fingers flying over the surface, her hand paused at the huge red circle marking an area to the west end of the city.
Shit, she thought, that's the train station! The one Chris so desperately needs…
Combined with what she had just overheard, it certainly seemed like Wyatt was planning a surprise attack tomorrow evening on the train station. As she studied the map some more, she started to get a sinking feeling in her stomach. Someone had made markings of where the demons were stationed and how many each unit contained. From the detailing on the map, it was clear to Bianca that they had the Resistance boxed in.
She gazed down stupidly at the tally, her mind racing through the figures. It'll be a massacre…I've got to warn them…I've got to warn, Chris.
A noise from the hall caused her to jerk her head up. Cursing, she looked for someplace to hide. Unfortunately the room was completely empty save the table and chairs. No hiding spaces. Returning the torch back to its sconce on the wall, she blew it out and waited, hoping that whoever it was would pass her by.
She heard voices just outside the door. Just my luck, she thought sourly, glancing up at the ceiling.
The door opened.
"That was a waste of time," Slick commented to Les, his tone disgusted.
The two team leaders and their scout teams were on their way back to base after the unfruitful supplies retrieval mission in sector seven. Upon arriving, they and Quentin's team had braved the still smouldering supplies depot for anything salvageable. Unfortunately, the fires had swept through the depot efficiently, cleaning the outpost of anything even remotely desirable. Fourteen hours later and nothing to show for it, Les was inclined to agree, "You won't get any argument from me."
"I still don't understand why Chris had you guys come. It's not like Quentin and I didn't have everything under control," Slick puzzled.
Les shrugged. "I don't even pretend to understand what goes on in Chris' mind most days."
Slick rubbed his forehead wearily, "I guess. So what are we going to do for supplies in the meantime?"
"I don't know." Les shook his head, "We'll have to put everyone on minimal rations until we can make another supplies foray."
"Even stricter than we've already imposed?" Slick asked in disbelief, his right eyebrow shooting up as he looked at Les sceptically. "What are we going to do? Ask everyone to stop eating?"
"If we have to," Les said evenly. "Those supplies were our last hope. And now that they're gone…"
Slick nodded unhappily. "Yeah. I know."
"Hopefully Chris has come up with something since I left," Les offered, his voice slightly trembling from fatigue. He looked at his watch, "We've been gone…what? Ten hours or there about?"
"Fourteen," Slick corrected. Recognizing that they were nearing home, he picked his walking pace. "Man, what a day. I can't wait to crawl into my bed and sleep for the next week. We've been on circuit for close to 36 hours straight."
"Who's relieving you?" Les quickened his pace to match Slick's.
Slick shrugged. "No idea. Guess I'll have to stop by command central and figure that out before I can hit the sack."
Turning the corner, the two stepped through the illusion of a collapsed tunnel, revealing the heavy steel door guarding the main entrance to the Resistance. Placing his hand on the door, Les offered, "I've got to go to command anyways to check in with Chris. I'll let them know that your team's back."
Slick threw Les a grateful look as the magical locking system, recognizing Les, swung open to reveal base ops. Anxious family and friends crowded the hall, hoping to catch sight of their loved ones. "Thanks. Normally I'd go and file my report right away, but I'm wiped."
Patting Slick on the shoulder, Les nodded, "I'll file an interim report until you get a chance to brief them in full. Get some sleep, okay?"
Nodding once, Slick turned back to his team, "Okay guys. Drop off your stuff, get cleaned up and the next 48 hours are yours. Get ready to move out then." Raising his eyebrows at the collective groans, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that and see you back here in two days." As the team dispersed amongst the crowd, Slick readjusted his backpack before disappearing into one of the nearby corridors.
Sighing, Les dragged his weary bones to the command centre. He was exhausted, having been up for more than 20 hours, over half of which he'd spent coughing, hacking and pawing through the smoking remains of sector seven's supplies depot. Climbing the metal staircase, he forced himself to put one foot in front of another. What was that saying again? An object that's in motion, tends to stay in motion?
Nodding at the two guards posted outside, he pushed his way through the door to enter the 'brain' of the Resistance. He ignored the searching glances from the Councillors who were involved in some sort of heated argument again, looking for Chris. Surprised to find him absent, Les turned to leave, thinking he'd check Chris' quarters for the elusive Resistance leader when he bumped into Duncan emerging from the small meeting room.
"Les!" Duncan exclaimed. "You're back early."
"You call this early?" Les asked acerbically, "I've been gone over 14 hours, Duncan."
Duncan flushed. "Yeah, well, we weren't expecting you till tonight, you know. So what's the word on the supplies depot?"
Les shook his head. "Waste of time. There's nothing left that wasn't burned to a crisp." A little impatient, "Look – have you seen Chris? I kind of need to talk to him."
"What about Slick? His team make it back okay?" Duncan avoided Les' gaze.
"Yeah. He'll check in after he's caught up on some sleep. That reminds me, we need to send another team out to cover his circuit," Les replied. Starting to feel like Duncan was dancing around the topic of Chris, Les asked bluntly, "Duncan. Where's Chris?"
"Well, you see…" Duncan trailed off hesitantly. "It's like…you know…"
"You know whenever you start babbling, I get a bad feeling in my stomach," Les eyed Duncan. "You've always been a horrible liar. Just spit it out, why don't you?"
"Chris left last night on his own to Wyatt's stronghold," Duncan's breath came out in a rush.
"Whaaaat?" Les drew out the word in disbelief. "Come again?"
Duncan could only nod silently.
Les stared at Duncan in dumbfounded amazement, "You've got to be kidding me." When Duncan failed to contradict him, Les swore a blue streak. "Christ! What the hell is Chris thinking?" Running his fingers through his hair feeling thoroughly frustrated, Les began to pace back and forth, "And did he happen to enlighten you on how he's going to stop Wyatt?"
Duncan glanced over Les' shoulder at the Councillors who were engrossed in their discussion before lowering his voice. "He's going to kill Wyatt."
"Damn it!" Les swore again. "He deliberately sent me out last night to sector seven because he knew if I had been here, there'd be no way I would have let him go through with this crazy plan."
Duncan shook his head, "You know as well as I do that no one can stop Chris once he puts his mind to something. And he was bound and determined to stop Wyatt. And it's not like he didn't think this through. He had me pull all the architectural blueprints of the stronghold – he thinks he can infiltrate Wyatt's fortress through the maintenance tunnels located at the bottom of the building. I think he could have a shot, Les."
"And what if he fails? What if he gets caught? Or worse, killed?" Les countered. "What are we going to do?"
Unable to meet Les' eyes, Duncan could only offer, "He was right, Les. This is our best chance to stop Wyatt. To put an end to the bleeding. Or, in Chris' words, 'to cut the snake off at its head'."
Les shot a look at Duncan, "That's not the only thing that I'm worried about."
"What do you mean?"
"You're talking about assassination! That's cold-blooded murder by any honourable man's code," Les explained. "But murdering your own brother in cold blood? Even if he's the ruler of all evil? It'll kill Chris if he goes through with it."
Duncan frowned. "I never really thought about it that way. But surely Chris has?"
Les snorted. "You don't know him like I do. If he's decided to go through with this crazy fucked up plan of his, he's got his feelings buried so deep he's not thinking straight anymore."
"Okay, fine. So he's not thinking straight…" Duncan hesitated before voicing, "But did you consider what if he pulls it off? This could be the break we've been waiting for, Les. The break that turns the tide."
Les shook his head vehemently, "But at what cost? His life? Or worse, he succeeds in murdering his own brother…I don't care if Wyatt is the devil incarnate – you can't kill your own family and not come out scarred."
"Wyatt did," Duncan reasoned, softly.
"You call that normal?" Les asked incredulously. "Besides, he's evil, Duncan. Chris isn't. His morals, his ethics…his humanity…he won't be able to go through with this without…losing a part of himself. Hell – right now I'm more worried about Chris than I am about Wyatt."
"So what do you want to do now? Do you want to stop him? Can we?"
"I don't know," Les shook his head. "I don't know."
"We need to be careful," Zankou was saying, as he trailed after Wyatt into the room. "We need to test the waters first. We don't even know if this is something of value to them. You're basing everything on a couple of assumptions."
Wyatt ignored him, and with a wave of his hand, illuminated the torches in the room instantaneously. Striding forward to the table, he leaned over the map, his eyes calculating. "You worry too much. Everything is going according to plan."
From her perch above, Bianca watched as Wyatt and Zankou coldly discussed their plans to wipe out the Resistance. Her arms trembled with fatigue as she held herself still against the ceiling, her arms and legs pushing against the beams to keep herself aloft. She calculated the odds of her taking out Wyatt and then Zankou and still coming out alive.
She needn't have bothered. Taking on Wyatt by himself would have been risky enough. Throw in Zankou and it was suicide.
Hers.
"We still haven't heard from the assassin. Your brother could still be alive," Zankou pointed out.
Wyatt shrugged coldly. "So? He can't stop me. No one can."
"He's proven before that he's tricky. What if this is some sort of trap on their part?" Zankou tried again. "I just think we need to a couple of more days to scout the area and get prepared."
Wyatt eyed his henchman derisively, "Do you really think that they could be laying a trap while we are laying a trap for them at the same time? I think you give them too much credit."
Zankou stared at Wyatt, the avid hunger in the twice-blessed's eyes making him rethink his protests. "What would you have me do?"
"Gather our forces there," Wyatt jabbed his finger at the map, indicating the area circled in red. "We will surround the area in a semi-circle and close in from the two sides to complete the circle."
So I was right! Bianca thought. Wyatt is going to attack the train station. For all the good it does me – I've got to get out of here and warn the Resistance!
Zankou craned his neck to follow Wyatt's finger, "The terrain in that area is fairly flat. The humans will see such a huge force mobilizing against them. There will be no chance for surprise."
Wyatt smiled. "There will if I cloak their presence."
"Is that possible?" Zankou asked doubtfully.
Bianca wondered the same thing herself.
Wyatt leaned forward, reinforcing his intensity with his posture, his lips drawing back in an evil grin, "Anything is possible when you are as powerful as I am. Enough." He reached down and rolled up the map, "You have your orders. I will be in my rooms, preparing the spell."
Zankou bowed, as Wyatt preceded him from the room, closing the door behind them. As soon as the door closed behind the two men, Bianca dropped down from her perch, landing softly on the balls of her feet. That was too close, she thought. Another minute more and I think my arms would have given out.
Stretching slightly to relieve the pain in her muscles from holding the unnatural position for too long, she reviewed her choices. She could go after Wyatt and make him pay for her mother's death, or she could double back and warn the Resistance of the impending doom. One would quench her thirst for revenge, the other would satisfy the little voice inside her head – her conscience.
She made her decision.
All right, Wyatt. You've had your fun. Now it's my turn.
Les was still brooding in the small meeting room, his feet resting on the desk as the thoughts churned in his mind. Why, Chris? When did you decide that it was time to take out Wyatt? And when did you decide that you were the only one that could do it?
Leaning back further into the chair, he thought back over the last couple of days, trying to determine whether there had been any warning signs, indications that he should have picked up on Chris' intentions.
He closed his eyes, wondering. Chris had taken all the blueprints of Wyatt's strong hold with him, so there was no way they could follow him. He'd tried getting the telepaths to get in touch with Chris, but he was deliberately ignoring them, refusing to respond.
Or he could be dead, Les thought darkly.
Either way, Chris had left the well being of the Resistance and its population in Les' hands. It wasn't a responsibility he had ever wanted or even knew what to do with. Responding to messages from the borders, reviewing scouting reports, deploying teams for supply runs, attending Council meetings…these were all things Chris did on a daily basis that Les was now responsible for.
He was in way over his head.
Too many little things requiring his attention, too much patience required to deal with stiff upper lip Councillors…Les was starting to feel a little overwhelmed. Christ, I never knew how much crap Chris put up with everyday. How did the kid do it?
His ears buzzing and his brain about to explode, Les had retreated into the small meeting room, with the proviso, do not disturb! As much as he hated to, he'd sent word to Darryl. He needed all the help he could get.
A knock on his door, made him look up. Expecting Darryl, Les called out, "Enter!"
Duncan entered the room. Responding to Les' questioning look, he said grimly, "You'll never guess who we found." Sticking his head back outside, Duncan ordered, "Bring her in."
Two large, hulking scouts whom Les didn't recognize escorted a third individual into the small room. Shutting the door behind them, Duncan said sardonically, "A sight for sore eyes, isn't she?"
"Take your hands off of me," Bianca said icily, as she jerked her arms free from the two guards manhandling her. "Trust me, if I wanted to get away, you'd be dead and I'd be miles away from here. And you didn't find me. I found you."
Flushing angrily, Duncan opened his mouth to retort, when Les interrupted, "What are you doing here?"
Swinging her eyes in Les' direction, she crossed her arms, "Where's Chris?"
"That's not your concern," Les replied, evenly. "I'll ask you again, what are you doing here?"
Searching his eyes, whatever she saw must have convinced her that Les meant business. "I came to give Chris…you…the heads up. Wyatt's planning an attack."
"So what else is new?" Duncan scoffed. "I say we put her into a room and throw away the key."
"Duncan," Les warned. "Why should I believe anything you say?"
Tossing her hair back defiantly, Bianca met his gaze steadily, "My story is easy enough to check out. Wyatt's moving his forces to take the train station. All that activity you guys caused there the other week made him suspicious. Send a scout team to investigate. You'll see I'm telling you the truth."
Les shot Duncan a look, "Go."
Nodding hastily, Duncan opened the door to exit the room when Bianca brought him up short. "Hold on. Make sure whoever you send can detect magic. Apparently Wyatt's come up with some new kind of illusion that's supposed to cloak their movements."
Glancing over at Les for his take, Duncan interpreted Les' careful nod and exited the room without another word. Bianca turned her attention back to Les, saying sarcastically, "What? No 'thank you'?"
"That remains to be seen," Les replied coolly. "And even if you did tell the truth, that doesn't mean that I trust you."
He saw a flash of something (hurt?) in Bianca's eyes, before her eyes seemed to darken, "Where's Chris?"
"You seem awfully anxious to talk to Chris. Worried that your little attempt to kill him didn't work? Let me be the first to reassure you that he's quite alive and breathing," Les returned, mockingly.
Bianca's shoulders sagged a bit, before she replied quietly, "I'm glad he's okay."
"No thanks to you," Les bit out, angered.
Her eyes flashing again, Bianca retorted, "Screw you. I thought he killed my mother. Not that I expect you to understand."
"And what changed your mind?" Les asked sarcastically. "Oh – let me guess. Chris did."
Flushing, Bianca traded an angry look with Les before letting her eyes drop to the floor, "I overheard Wyatt telling Zankou that he killed her."
Les ignored the desire to believe her, focusing instead on analyzing her words, his voice rising with each thought voiced, "You overheard Wyatt? Obviously you were at his stronghold. What did you tell him about us? Did you tell him where were located? Did you tell him about the base, the tunnels? Did you?"
"No!" Bianca shouted back. "I didn't go there to tell him anything. I went…I went back to get my stuff and then I was going to high tail it out of there. Put as much distance between him and me. Because I didn't want to tell him anything."
"Yeah, right." Les looked at her sceptically.
"Oh, believe what you want," Bianca replied, frustrated. "You will anyways. Nothing I say will change your mind."
About to question her further, Duncan re-entered the room, his forehead beaded with sweat, "Les – she's telling the truth. Zach's team confirmed it through communications. Wyatt's moving to take the train station. And he's got his demons heavily cloaked."
"Damn it!" Les swore. He looked at Duncan, his gaze steely, "We need that train station, Duncan."
Duncan nodded. "I'm on it. I'll work out a plan and have it ready for you in an hour." Without waiting for Les to agree, Duncan disappeared from the meeting room.
Running his fingers through his hair, Les stared at the blank wall. Think! What would Chris do?, he asked himself.
"Where's Chris?"
He'd forgotten all about Bianca, "Why? So you can try and kill him again?"
Bianca crossed her arms defensively, "No. I just…I just wanted to talk to him."
"Well, he's not here, sweetheart," Les said, his tone clipped. "So you're just going to have to deal with me."
Darryl suddenly entered the room. "Les. I came as soon as I could. What's going on? Where's Chris?"
Shooting a warning glance at Darryl, Les jerked his head towards Bianca, "Careful. Come on, I'll fill you in."
The two men huddled in the corner, whispering, as Les quickly brought Darryl up to speed. Try as she might, Bianca could only make out a couple of words.
"….went after Wyatt…"
"Is he nuts?"
"…we think…tunnels…maintenance…has a shot…"
She blinked. "He went after Wyatt?"
Les looked at her in disgust, "How the hell did you…"
Bianca shrugged, "I read lips. Another skill that comes in handy when you're an assassin."
"I'll bet," Les glared at her sourly.
Darryl looked over at her, his gaze narrowing before turning his attention back to Les. "Why don't you take care of this? I'll start coordinating with Duncan." He moved to leave the room, pausing to glance down at the assassin before exiting, "My wife thought you were in love with Chris. Was it all an act?"
"I…I don't know," Bianca whispered, her tone anguished, unable to meet his eyes.
Darryl gazed down on the bowed head, saying finally as he left the room, "My wife was a pretty good judge of character. I'd hate to see her proven wrong."
Closing the door behind him, Darryl once again left Bianca with her two guards and Les staring at her. "Well?"
"Well what?" Les grumbled.
"Chris. He went after Wyatt?" she asked carefully.
"I guess it's no use denying it now," Les said tiredly. "Yeah. Yeah, he did."
"That's…It's suicide!" Bianca sputtered in disbelief, "How could you let him go?"
Les looked at her sardonically, "I didn't let him do anything, lady."
"Aren't you supposed to watch his back? Look out for him? Be his friend?" Bianca shot back heatedly.
"Not that I have to justify myself to you," Les looked at her in amazed disbelief. This was the second time in as many days that someone had made the same accusation! "But for the record, the kid took off behind my back."
"He's going to get himself killed!" Bianca shouted. "Is that what you want?" Unwittingly, she took a couple of steps forward only to be brought up short quite forcefully by her two guards. She sneered, "You really think you can hold me? I know 25 ways to kill you with my bare hands."
Paling, her two guards looked at each other nervously, their hands still wrapped around her arms.
"Make that twenty-six,"
Both guards dropped their hands, taking a nervous shuffle backwards as Les snorted, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't cut your throat right here and now."
"I can give you several. One – you'd be dead before your hand even reached the knife in your back pocket," she paused, letting the impact of her statement sink in. "Two – I know my way around Wyatt's strong hold. And I'm willing to take you there so we can get Chris."
Still smarting over how she had known about his knife, Les asked mockingly, "How do I know this isn't a trick?"
"Oh for god's sake!" Bianca threw her hands up in the air. "We don't have time for this. Chris is in danger!"
"Fine," Les nodded. "You want to help Chris?"
"I want to stop him."
"Feeling some sympathy for your former employer, are you?" Les sneered.
"No. I want to stop Chris because it would kill him to murder his own brother in cold blood. He doesn't have it in him. It would…damage him…irreparably," Bianca returned Les' look steadily.
"And how would you know?" Les avoided making the question sound insulting by shading his tone quietly.
"Trust me. If there's one thing I know – it's whether someone can commit cold-blooded murder. And Chris can't," Bianca replied, wearily.
"So we stop him and then what? How do we stop Wyatt? Chris won't give up if we don't have an answer for him," Les argued.
"We find another way."
"What other way?" Les demanded.
"I don't know!" Bianca yelled back, frustration and fear running through her veins. "We'll figure that out later. Right now – my first concern is Chris."
Silence.
Studying her, Les slowly nodded. "All right. You and I. We leave now to get Chris. I give you fair warning – one wrong move and I'll kill you where you stand."
Inclining her head slightly to acknowledge her agreement, Bianca replied, "Fine. Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet, lady. I don't believe a word you just said except that you know the layout of Wyatt's base. And right now, that's information I need," Les removed his knife from the back pocket, deliberately cleaning it in front of her. "Oh, and so we're clear? If you hurt him, I'll hunt you down and kill you."
Not needing Les to explain who 'him' was, Bianca watched as the light glinted off the blade, "I wouldn't expect anything less."
To be continued….
Will Les and Bianca reach Chris in time? Will Darryl and Duncan be able to hold off the attacks at the train station? All these questions to be answered in the next instalment of Providence!
