Author's Note: I don't suppose any amount of apologising would make you all forgive me. But nevertheless, I really am sorry. Real life got a bit hectic. I quit my job, my dog was put down, I got a part in a show, and my dad went into hospital o.O And I had killer writer's block. But inspiration hit me like a brick today, and here we are. Due to rumours circulating, I will just thank all the reviewers in one go right here, and not take up the whole A/N doing it individually. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter.
And now, the new part of Ghosts of Old…
It was with instinctual care and stealth that Tom led Joe and Huck through the backstreets of London towards their destination. He had memorised how to get there, using some of Nemo's elegant maps, and they were silent as they moved, for the most part. Occasionally, there was a conference, just to confirm what they were going to do when they reached their destination, but other than that, there was nothing other than the soft tapping of their heels.
Tom, for one, could hear his own heartbeat. It was drumming in his ears, like a marching rhythm, accompanying those who would go into war against a brutal enemy. Ironically fitting, he thought, considering what he was going into; what he was leading his friends into. He glanced back at them from under the peak of his hat, almost hesitant. But no matter what he did, he knew they would follow him, and for one reason alone; they were his friends, and they wouldn't leave him to go through this alone, despite the risk.
Calculating their position using a street sign and a significant building off to his left, he estimated that it would take them roughly ten more minutes to reach their destination. It was getting close. He inhaled deeply, and let it out slowly, to collect himself.
He had seen Gray fight before; not much, but he would use that memory to help him now, in what he was about to do. It could very well get him killed, but at least he would have tried, and that was all he had to do; he had to try. If he didn't do that, then he would never be able to forgive himself. Mina had given herself up to protect Tom's friend; he owed her this. Of course, there was more to it than that, but he didn't need to remind himself of how he felt… how he would feel if he didn't fight for her.
They stopped at a kind of crossroads, mainly to gather themselves. Huck came up beside him while Joe watched out behind them. The shorter agent's brown eyes regarded Tom's face, and after a while, the blonde man looked down, meeting the darker gaze.
"I have to do this…" he whispered unnecessarily.
"I know, Tom. And we have to be here with you."
There was a pause; Tom had a feeling Huck wasn't finished with that statement.
"If we don't go with you, you'll get yourself killed."
There it was. Tom smiled, and patted Huck's shoulder before looking around, and then back at Joe, raising his voice enough for them all to hear; "We're less than ten minutes away. It shouldn't take the League long to realise we're missing. If it were just me, then maybe they wouldn't suspect as much, but with all three of us gone, and Becky to notice that, then it's not going to just be ignored."
"Right," Huck acknowledged; almost with a little smirk. That old thirst for mischief was kicking in, Tom knew; he could see it in the eyes, and he felt it in himself, even though he didn't particularly want to. It was only natural. Joe no doubt felt it as well. The three of them had gotten into so much trouble as kids that it had become almost like second nature to cause some kind of trouble… so long as nobody really got hurt. But this was different; this time, someone had to get hurt.
And Tom didn't intend for it to be him.
"We should keep moving. Gray might have people out in the streets keeping watch." After seeing two acknowledging nods, Tom led them along once again, hearing them both behind him, and keeping an eye on his surroundings, watching for danger and where they should turn. It wouldn't do to get lost or ambushed. Tom was going to get to Gray, and that was final. Nothing was going to stand in his way.
Dorian had given fleeting thought to feeding her, but as he looked in on her in her starving state, he realised that it would be best to wait until they were in Paris… if only for the sheer quality. Yes, he would feed her in Paris. The blood was more rich there; more satisfying. She would like that.
Smiling in at her, he glanced down at his watch. Not long now. Everything was in order. Many of his effects were packed, and his staff were on alert; any bumbling League members were to be killed on sight if they so much as tried to enter the premises. Not that they would… Dorian had not only the best taste in arts and wines and the like — women included — but also in skilled workmen. His were the finest to be bought and paid for. Highly efficient in their jobs; the best in the field. Even Hyde would have trouble getting by them, and not just because he presented a rather large target.
Chuckling, he smiled at Mina one last time, and then withdrew from the door, leaving the two guards to their vigil. Striding back to his armchair, he gazed at the lit fireplace briefly before taking a seat in the lavish room. It would be a shame to leave the furniture, but he could send for it when they were settled in Paris.
He was actually looking forward to getting back to that wonderfully extravagant city. Something about it always appealed to him; the flavour and the colours… even the people, surprisingly. They were all very endearing somehow… and if he didn't like them, then that was dealt with easily enough. Either with 'accidents' or simply ignoring them until they went away. The former was much more interesting, of course; reading about his men's creativity in the paper the next day was like opening a new book and getting caught up in its tale. And if his men ever got caught, then they had the common sense not to point the finger in his direction… they knew what that would get them.
"James, fetch me a drink, would you?"
The man acknowledged, and went to fill the simple command at once. Dorian listened to the sound of the decanter against glass, closing his dark eyes as he did so and imaging what they would do when they were in Paris.
The phrase 'paint the town red' had never held so much promise…
Skinner watched Becky pace back and forth, unintentionally listening to the sound of her heels making a kind of rhythm as she moved from one end of the room to the other, and rather briskly at that. How women could move so effortlessly in shoes like that always made his mind boggle… but now wasn't exactly the time to think about that.
"Where would they have gone?" she was asking of nobody in particular, and the three remaining men of the League looked to one another in turn. Skinner glanced down at his now-rather-empty glass, and sighed.
"Well, I don't think that's much of a puzzle, really, is it?"
Becky's light eyes landed on him, and her brows knitted. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Skinner didn't really want to think that she could be dense like this when she had known Tom since they were both kids, but he let it slide. She was in a bit of a panic, so it could be expected.
"Well, if you think about it, what possible reason could Tom 'ave for runnin' off like this? And naturally the other two would follow him if what I've heard about their adventures is true. But it's Tom who'd have the reason, right? Strikes me as a kinda leader to the other two."
Jekyll lifted his eyes from where they had been focused on the tabletop, and said, "Park Lane." He looked to Skinner, who lifted his glass as a silent acknowledgement.
"He has gone after Gray," Nemo added for final clarification, making Becky move back to them all quickly, a wild look of worry in her eyes like a kind of fire.
"He wouldn't…" she started quietly, shaking her head. "He'll be killed."
"Quite possibly," Nemo added all too honestly, receiving a kind of glare from Skinner, who realised shortly after that it was useless to glare at a man who couldn't see the fine details of your face. "But it is not reason which drives him."
The room fell silent, but not comfortably at all, Skinner knew. Jekyll removed his pocket watch, looking down at the maps sparingly, as if trying to calculate how long it would take them to reach Park Lane and how far away the three American agents would be now. Nemo looked deep in thought as well. Becky chewed on her nails now, propping herself elegantly against the table, before she sighed, and dropped her hand to her lap, as if in resignation of some fact that only she knew. Skinner used that time to really think things over for himself, turning it this way and that, and trying to picture how this would go; how Tom would manage. Before he reached one solid conclusion. He moved to the table and put the glass down… and a little too heavily.
"He's tackling Gray by himself. Is he bloody insane?"
Becky's blue eyes never lifted, but when she spoke, it was with a finality that could not be argued; "No… he's in love."
Jekyll looked to the two of them, glancing to Nemo briefly in between. "Mrs. Harker."
"Yes," Becky confirmed lightly, and Skinner sat down in one of the chairs.
"This is madness. Tom's a gunslinger. What hope does he have against Gray? For one thing, the bastard's immortal, but on top o' that, he could get in close with that damn sword o' his."
Nemo actually sighed then, and all eyes were on him at once. It was only a few moments before he spoke, saying almost guiltily, "Agent Sawyer asked that I teach him to defend himself. He said he wanted to learn. I did have my suspicions, but I never thought to really question his intentions. He has always been honest with me."
Skinner sat up straighter, furrowing his brow. "What do you mean? You didn't teach him your martial arts, did you? He's a quick study, but that'd take him years, wouldn't it?"
"No, Mr. Skinner, I did not teach him my martial arts skills." Nemo's hand enveloped the grip of his ornate weapon, and Jekyll turned his back to the table, glancing to Skinner and Becky.
"A sword."
"He… learned very quickly. I was impressed, to say the least, but nevertheless, Dorian Gray has been alive for countless years; his skills are…"
"Insane?"
"In one word, yes." Nemo locked eyes with Skinner.
"But he's with Joe and Huck. He's not alone." Becky looked from one to the other, her blonde hair over her shoulders freely.
"Yeah, but he'll use 'em for cover fire with Gray's men while he goes after Gray for himself. He thinks it's personal." Under his breath, Skinner muttered, "Bloody idiot…"
Nemo stood up straight once again, resolute and ready for action. "How long have they been missing?"
"We've known for about ten minutes? But it could be longer… I hadn't seen any of them in about an hour; maybe more." Becky frowned. She was probably picturing things in her head now, Skinner presumed, even though it was probably best she didn't.
"Then we must leave immediately. If we do not hurry, then we might not make it in time." Nemo was already heading from the room to make preparations, and Skinner watched him. Jekyll was too, and Becky as well, even as the Indian added in conclusion, "I will meet you all in the hold in five minutes."
As the man withdrew from sight, Skinner muttered, "Five minutes? Well…" Louder, he added, "Best get a move on, hadn't we?"
As Skinner and Jekyll moved to leave the room, Becky stood fully and said, "Don't leave without me."
Jekyll was the first to turn; Skinner had been waiting for this actually, and should have realised she would wait until Nemo was out of the room to make her case. "But, Miss Thatcher, this is going to be extremely dang—"
"Dangerous, yes," she agreed, resolute. "But these are my friends. I've known them for years, and I can't just wait here, not knowing what's happened to them. I'm willing to take the risk, and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise, Dr. Jekyll."
Jekyll looked to Skinner as if for aid, but received nothing. Hell, Becky could probably handle a gun better than the invisible man himself… her three best friends were all spies, after all. Reluctantly, he looked back to Becky, and nodded. "Very well. But we must be quick."
"Thank you." And with that, she was gone, lifting the edges of her skirts to run from the room, back to her own cabin, to make herself ready. Jekyll's eyes turned on Skinner's face.
"You knew she was going to ask that…"
"Yes I did. There's nothin' we could've done to stop her anyway, Jekyll. You know that." Skinner shrugged one shoulder, and headed from the room.
He didn't want to be late, after all.
The three Americans stood at the corner of the street, all eyes fixed on the address they had committed to memory before even stepping foot outside of the Nautilus. Huck, being the shortest, stood just in front. Heck, he'd always sort of been the scout, not that it mattered in the darkness that enveloped them right now. The shadows pretty much swallowed them whole as they stood there, but there was enough illumination around the houses for them to see by from where they remained motionless. Tom was the first to speak.
"The roof," he whispered, and all three turned their gazes upward… seeing the man there quickly.
"Cheeky son of a bitch set up a sniper."
"Two, no doubt," Tom contradicted as he looked to Joe. "He'll have one on this side of the street too, in case the first one misses." He nodded up to the roof of the building they stood against, every move cautious and every word only loud enough for the three of them alone.
"So what do we do?" Huck inquired. "We can't very well cause a racket before we're even inside the front door… unless you wanna draw 'em out."
"No," Tom said, shaking his head. Patting Joe on the shoulder, he said to him, "Head up the back, and take out the first one. Use his gun to take out the guy on the other roof."
Nodding, Joe took off for the back, with Tom and Huck watching him. The shorter of the two looked to his 'partner' and smiled faintly. "Now did you do that because he's a good sniper himself, or to get him outta the way for a while?"
Tom chuckled lightly. "What do you think?"
"I don't think you want to know what I think."
Tom grinned. "Damn straight, Huck Finn."
Huck smirked. Just like old times.
To Be Continued…