Disclaimer: Forgot this last time. I would be so lucky to own V for Vendetta. Sadly, most of my original story ideas are icky and fall flat on their face.
Okay, I lied. I told you you'd probably have to wait to get another chapter out of me, but here it is! Chapter #3! And to think, I was going to delete this story...
Evey watched Dominic Stone leave his son's home early the next morning. Of the three men who hadfathered her children, he was her favorite. Maybe it was because of his involvement in building the new England or perhaps she just felt guilty for macing him. It could even be that he was a link to the memories of the real V or the fact that he was her only lover besides Vwho ever knew who she really was. Varick's father, a bookstore owner called Robert Martin, had thought she was a distraught young lady in the park. She had slipped him something when he bought her a cup of coffee. Nine months later, she had left Varick on his doorstep. Same thing with Verena's father, the young lawyer that was now Senator Galen Ellwood. She sighed and watched Dominic past, never looking up to notice her perched on the ledge of the building next store. He was not her query today. In fact, she was a half-hour late in catching him. With that, she grabbed a branch and went to wait for the NFS (National Fascist Society) to start acting up.
Varten's face was grim as he climbed into his patrol car. More rioters were rasing a stench and he fully intended to be there before V was. Finch, of course, had wanted to come with, but Varten had refused, telling him that he was too old and that he'd tell him the complete story when he got back.
When Varten and hismen pulled up, three of the fanatics lay dead in the street and five more struggled from their bonds as they hung by their feet from nearby lamp-posts and buildings.
At first, the police just gawked at the sight before Varten ordered the men to be cut down and taken back to the station for questioning. He scanned the alley to the right of the scene. As he bent over what appeared to be an old baton like the ones carried by the fingermen, he heard a thump behind him. Whirling around, he came fast to face with a frightened young woman.
"May I help you, miss?" Varten asked, wondering where she had come from. At first she nodded mutely, but then seemed to find her voice.
"Yes, please. I w-was attacked...by those men...I-I'm okay, I think, but the p-person who saved me gave me this for you." She stammered, handing him a thick, folded piece of parchment. Turning it over, he eyed a red wax seal, emblazoned with a V in a circle.
"Your rescuer...he didn't happen to be V, did he?" The woman nodded and Varten sighed, "Alright then. Come with me and I'll send you with one of my officers. He'll take you to the station, ask you a few questions and then take you home." The woman looked relieved. Varten wished he could say the same for himself. After ordering a junior officer to care for the victim and then sending the last of his boys home, he settled into his car and opened the letter.
My Sincerest Greetings, Mr. Stone.
I assume that you received my gift, did you not? The leaders of the NFS, all wrapped and tied with a bow. I'm sure you're also very grateful for the girl. She was lucky. Had I not been watching, she might not have lived through the experience. Enough of the small talk, Mr. Stone. You must by dying of curiosity to know why I've not only left you these gifts but have also given you a letter. You see, Mr. Stone, I have quite a few secrets and I find myself wishing to share a few. And I know more than a few would interest your boss and father, as well as yourself. If you have any desire to know the answers to your questions, be so kind as to be of attendance at The Friar's Inn this evening after you have left work.
Your Dear Friend,
V
That night, when Varten clocked out, he barely spared Brita a look. He grabbed a taxi and set off for the Friar's Inn, all the while rubbing the broken wax seal with his thumb. He arrived at his destination and payed the cabby before walking in. He scanned the pub before taking a place at the bar. He hadn't known what to expect and felt foolish at looking for the grinning white face of a Guy Fawkes mask. When the bartender gave him his scotch, he took a swig before scanning the area again. Still nothing that might tip him off. An older woman settled herself next him. In her youth, she had been beautiful and age had added a wisdom and experience to her face that make-up couldn't duplicate. Looking closer while trying to be unobtrusive, Varten noticed that she wore no beauty products and all-black clothing covered her surprising lithe figure. Her blonde hair showed little graying andshe looked to be in her late forties early fifties.
The woman chuckled. "Mr. Stone, I'm old enough to be your mother. And besides, we are here for far different reasons than for you to be examining an old woman's figure." Varten jumped. The woman chuckled again."Surprised, Mr. Stone?" She looked at him directly and her doe-brown eyes held a hard, fearless glint behind the mirth that danced in them. "Never thought I'd be a woman, did you, Mr. Stone." She sobered and turned back to the bar. "Do you know who I am, my boy?"
Varten took another swig of scotch, his mind racing. Who would have thought? "Yes, Miss Hammond, I know who you are."
Evey nodded. "Good. Then let's go. I have someplace to show you and this is no place to tell you what you need to know." With that she stood and pulled Varten from the bar, only pausing long enough to pay the tab.
Well. There it is. Thank you for reading! I luff.