V - Ladybird

Dressed in a neat black suit over a white shirt, with the black bow tie around his neck, Robert was sitting in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee to finish his waking up. He could hear gibberish on the living room. Mr. Kruger was surely with some guests. Immortals like him. He had not had a hard time believing in immortals. He was methodical. See to believe. So when Mr. Kruger had slashed his own wrist and Robert had watched it heal, he simply vowed to keep the secrecy.

His boss was a queer fellow. But Robert owed him a lot. He had appeared out of the blue, got him out of jail and hired him as his butler. Robert had learned in the Army to obey his superior. Mr. Kruger was his superior now, so he would obey him. Being in prison for more than twenty years had not softened him. Of course he had deserved the sentence, but it had been moral justice he had applied.

He heard the intercom on the wall being turned on.

"Yes sir?"

"Robert, there will be a Mr. Dawson coming. Show him to the living room."

"Yes sir."

He left the intercom. Robert had been in jail for hunting and torturing like the Army had taught him. Only that time it had been something of a personal nature. The punk had lost his ten toes, three fingers of the left hand, and two of the right. To that, it could be added the maiming of the reproductive little fellow with with he had raped Robert's only daughter. He had relished every second of it, and even more when he plunged his knife deep in the punk's side. A death sentence spared by his years in the Army.

The bell rang. "On to service," he thought as he moved and opened the door. A bearded man with a cane appeared before him. He found him familiar. Perhaps he had been with him in Vietnam. Unlikely, he thought, but possible.

"Er, hi... I am Joe Dawson... I am looking for the Kur... Mr. Victor Kruger."

The man stammered too much. Robert feigned a smile and fully opened the door. Dawson limped in and the butler closed the door.

"This way please."

He went slowly, keeping up his pace with the visitor.

"It's a nice place here." Joe commented, trying to chat.

"Indeed."

"You know, you look familiar. Haven't I met you before or some relative of yours?"

"Perhaps." Robert had no reason to think the man was asking that on purpose. He could not know his daughter and wife were dead, but a funny feeling inside made him feel his question had some subtle meaning.

He opened the door and Dawson walked in. Robert followed, and took a glance at the people there. There was his boss, of course, there was Dawson, there was this young man he knew only as Pierson, and this woman... his breathing increased, his heartbeat quickened. He grasped the wall not to fall, feeling as if someone had thrown a planet against his head. His eyes failed, as well as his senses. He fell, as she said the one word he would have killed to hear every day since 1981.

"Dad?"

-----

Darla glowered at Victor, who had rushed to help his butler and drag him over the sofa. Somehow he had got his father out of jail. That did not bother her. But he had put him under his service, exposing him to the horrid truth of finding out he had spent more than twenty five years jailed for avenging a daughter who was still alive.

"You are a vicious son of a b---h!" she muttered.

"Hey!" Victor yelled. "Don't you ever talk like that to me again!"

"Guys." Methos broke in, as he fixed some brandy to wake Robert up. "Easy. We have matters to discuss."

In the meantime, Dawson had joined Jimena and was comforting the scared woman.

"Where are the files?" Victor asked curtly.

Joe put his hand inside his coat. Victor glared for a second, ready to jump at the man should Joe produce a gun. But only an envelope came out. He handed it to Methos. The oldest of all the people there opened a laptop and took out a CD. He put it in the computer and waited.

"OK. It's all here."

"Shall we leave now?" Jimena asked, her first word since she had given them Joe's phone number.

"No!"

The word came out simultaneously from the three immortals there. Methos left the brandy. Victor was assembling his broadsword with a certain pleasure in doing that after a long time. Darla went to the spears, and picked a long one which had a sharp blade in the tip, a blade long enough to strike off a head with a single blow.

They heard the door being kicked down. One immortal only. Victor wondered who in hell it might be, with enough guts to break into his place like that. The deformed man known as Ursa appeared before them, grunting and yelling. In his hand, a massive axe glinted.

"Careful, guys. He is not in his right mind." Methos spoke. He had heard of Ursa over the centuries. A man who had never adapted to the world and lived in holy ground. He wondered how Kronos had got him to the Horsemen. Caspian was mad, but he could behave. Methos doubted that this man would be able to even follow the Rules.

Ursa attacked Victor. The owner of the house moved swiftly aside, and the savage went past him. He growled. He was surrounded. Darla and Victor on one side, Methos on the other. Next to him was the sofa where Robert lay. He laughed silently before grasping the fainted man and slashing Darla's father's throat as he guffawed.

She yelled, as tears began to slide down. The sight of his dead father made a scar all inside her. She squeezed her fist over the spear. Victor's massive body stood between her and Ursa before she could move. She looked up and found her mentor staring bitterly at her.

"Outside... and be sure he bites the dust."

She heard his words and retreated. Victor moved aside. Ursa had thrown the body back to the sofa, and was wielding his axe. Darla waved.

"Hey, you freak, you hideous hunchback. Want my head? Come for it!"

With those words she stormed out into the open. Ursa followed her grunting.

-----

Darla manoeuvred the spear with skill. She found it similar to the one Jin Ke had thought her to use, a weapon she later mastered during her training in China. Ursa wielded the axe as he let out a savage yell before lunging at her. She jumped to her left, but extended the spear to make the savage trip on it and fall. He scrambled up with another yelp. She knew she had to be careful. He was not smart, but he was evidently strong, and a blow with that axe would be enough to make her see the stars. She began to make the spear twirl. Ursa stared baffled for a second before attempting to land a blow on her. He failed and the axe buried itself on the ground. Darla hit him on the side, and he cried in pain. Immediately, her second attack resulted in a deep gash in his right arm. She attempted a third and definite blow, but he intercepted the spear with his bare hands, and lifted her in the air using it. He moved the spear in the air, shoving her as if she were a kite, until Darla had no choice but to let it go. She flew away and landed harshly on the floor.

"That hurt," she moaned. Now she was disarmed. Ursa held the spear with his hands and used his knee to crack it in two. Then he picked his axe. She would need to get a weapon, and get it quickly. He struck in her shoulder before she could react. She screamed in pain as she retreated. It would heal, but in the meantime, she was handicapped. She had to think. How do you beat a large brainless guy with such a weapon? He attacked before she could decide. She avoided him but he kicked her down. She fell defencelessly at his mercy. Ursa raised his axe. She regretted not having had the chance to avenge his father. All of her felt sorry for that. She closed her eyes, expecting not to open them again. But she did. Ursa was fascinated with something that surprised Darla as well.

There were small golden glints all over him. She strained and realised the glints were like golden ladybirds. Taking advantage of his distraction, Darla stood up and began to move away. Then the small golden bugs disappeared. The mesmerising over, Ursa went forward and again his axe ended up stuck in the floor. Darla jumped forward and stepped on the massive blade of the axe. Ursa noticed her as he tried to lift it up. She kicked him hard on the face and he staggered back. She returned to the ground, grasped the grip of the axe and lifted the weapon up. It was heavier than the broadsword she used to carry, but it would do. He picked the half of the broken spear that had the blade and lunged, trying to connect a stab in her chest. But he hit the air. She had ducked, and using all her strength she made a vertical cut running from his stomach to his neck as she surged. He fell, as drops of blood stained Darla's face. She went to his neck. The wild beasts had found someone to tame them. He was indeed yelling like an injured beast. She smirked as she made the axe give a rough kiss to its former owner's neck. Ursa's severed head turned to its right and there it remained.

She saw the body soar covered in a strange white glow. Lightning hit her as she let the axe hit the ground. She could see Ursa's past. He had been mocked, rejected. He was not evil. He had joined the Horsemen to belong somewhere. Kronos had bent the truth. How could he be good if he was rejected? Ursa was evil, Kronos had said. By joining him, he would become good, and they would spread goodness around the world, destroying the evil that ruled the world by means of riot and chaos. Despite everything, she pitied him as the quickening went off.

She stood up and staggered forward, as tears rolled down her cheeks. The people in the house had come out to see how the battle developed. Methos looked relieved and the two watchers looked disinterested, yet slightly shocked for the murder occurred before their eyes. Victor was subtly nodding at her. She scowled as she stopped by him.

"This is all your fault. You should have let him there."

She spat at him and carried on her way inside. The watchers followed her on their way out. Only Methos remained with Victor.

"She's right." The Kurgan said bitterly, feeling her saliva trickle down his chest.

Methos wished there had been something he could say. But in his five thousand years of life, he did not think he had learned a word fit for the moment.