Sorry it took me so long to write this chapter. Between school, dance and helping my dad garden/redecorate, remodel and garden, I've too busy to do much of anything for this poor story. Here's another chapter and I promise that next weekend I'll TRY to have another one for you.
Varten Stone glared at the back of the old detective leaving the room. It was hardly his fault that the supporters of Sutler's government always ended up dead before he and his men got to them. If the idiots would stop wreaking havoc every week or so down in the rougher parts of London, then they wouldn't get themselves killed. Most of the activists were the children and grandchildren of old party members and Fingermen who dreamed of having their families in power once again. When they were on their best behavior they simply tried to rally support and vandalize government buildings. Usually, Varten and his men got them on those days, but most of the time the asses assaulted, raped, or killed someone and then, by the time the police reached them, they were dead, all marked with a V in a circle. If the victim lived, sometimes so would one of the criminals, to tell the tale of having been attacked by the savior of England. It seemed V was still well enough alive and at large, even if he wasn't quite as public as he had been earlier in his career. Unfortunately, Detective Finch was still obsessed with him, a fact not helped by regular reports from Varten's father, Dominic Stone, Secretary of Defense for President Audrey, about notes from V giving advice about how this or that should be done or how to solve this problem. Of course, the old bloodhound was resigned to desk work now, because of his age, but he expected Varten to do the job for him, especially considering Varten was his old partner's son.
Varten sighed. He had little interest in finding out any more about Codename V than that he took care of the bad guys for the government. He pushed back from his desk, grabbed his coat and clocked out. He was done for the night. He waved to the pretty receptionist, Brita, behind the counter as he left. Varten groaned as he walked out into the wet November night. It was pouring and he had forgotten his umbrella. He didn't much feel like getting soaked, but after the day he'd had, he didn't much feel like being stuffed among other people on the Underground or in a small cab either. He was just thankful that it was the first and not the fifth. There were no revelers out in the streets to contend with. There were no plastic masks or black capes to rub his nose in his boss' obsession and father's disappointment. If Finch was obsessed, than Dominic was not far behind and wanted his son to find out V more than almost anything. Finch had told his partner the story of his exchange with Evey Hammond after the fifth almost thirty years ago. Now the younger man was eaten alive by curiosity. That night, Finch had watched as Hammond pulled the lever that sent of Codename V's body to the ill-fated Parliament. Several months later, V was back and in the thirty years since, there had been almost no sign of Evey Hammond. Dominic had more than once wondered if the girl was V, but Finch squashed that idea. If that were so, than this V would be shorter and in possession of breasts was his reasoning. And besides, Evey Hammond was a slight woman. She could hardly be expected to keep up with the strain of being a hero, particularly since she was almost fifty now.
Varten disagreed. For one thing, no one but his victims had seen in V up close and personal since the same night Finch saw his body. Therefore, no one could possibly tell what his exact height was. Secondly, Finch had also told about the absolute fearlessness and strength in Hammond's eyes that night. Whether or not she was small, Varten believed that she could handle the job if she were determined enough.
Dominic Stone sat on the couch in the apartment he shared with his oldest son. A year ago, Dominic's wife had died and he had moved in with Varten. He sometimes felt guilty about never revealing that Chelsea wasn't Varten's real mother and that Hazelle and Berke were only his half-brother and sister. However, he couldn't quite figure out how to tell him that Dominic had slept with Evey Hammond eight years after V's death, only to have a small boy appear on his stepa little over nine months later with a note begging him not to tell anyone who his real mother was, not even Finch or Varten, and to take good care of him. His birth certificate had been in the same envelope as the note and a small rosebud had been fastened to the carrier's handle. His oldest son was the product of seeing a beautiful old query in a bar one night after work and the night that had followed that meeting.
The latch on the door clicked and Dominic looked up to see one half of the object of his thoughts walk in, soaking wet and looking like he would like to wrap his hands around the neck of the first person who looked at him oddly.
"I'm going to kill Finch one of these days," he grumbled, teeth chattering, "but first, I'm going to take a shower and make myself a cup of tea." Dominic grinned.
It was a little longer than last time. Thank you for your patience and here's the answer to the question several of you asked.
Until next time, my friends.