The months went by, and Vlad's dealings with the Family and his own pioneering continued to yield great profits. From the Electro-Staff, he kept uncovering the secret devices and inventions of Yensid and their ally corporations. Rocket propulsion systems, alternate fuel sources, special generators – the list kept on growing. All the investigations that could be paid for never picked up on anything that could even remotely lead back to Vlad, and both he and the Family had been making a lot of money. By the third anniversary of the accident, Vlad was a mid-scale millionaire.
Things at Yensid just kept going in Vlad's favour. For all his technical know-how and far-reaching aspirations, Technus was a complete and utter idiot when it came to people. He manipulated his employees and his allies to further his ambitions, but when it came to close allies or people who would let him talk about himself, he was as gullible as a new-born baby. Vlad just sat back, smiled, and let him talk. Often Technus would blab out private information that only he was supposed to know, and Vlad always acted on it. He had begun making private deals with allied companies without Technus's consent. He had also been going down to the lower levels of Yensid, winning over small but important employees and divisions to Dalv's side of the partnership. All this helped to build up Dalv's size and power, and slowly but surely, they began to move in on exclusive territory for Yensid. Eventually, Yensid had to be re-named Yensid/Dalv Corp.
Vlad had bought a well-sized house just outside Milwaukee with his cut of the Family's profits and his own fortune. He had also changed his appearance again. His first suit had been a loan from Tony, but he had bought several identical suits for himself. He still didn't keep himself completely clean-shaven, but he didn't have the same thick five o' clock shadow he had before. He had also begun to grow out a goatee and he had started to wear his hair a tad bit longer.
With a partnership with a major corporation and greater wealth behind him, Vlad was able to hire more employees. Beyond the scientists that worked in his public divisions, he had managed to expand the secret paranormal section of the company. He had hired some of the best-known ghost hunters and paranormalists to work for him. Like Scar at the hospital, they were used to only the tools that were available in their field, and they hadn't ever worked with anything as complex as the designs Vlad wanted them to fulfil. And he kept adding to their workload. He could still remember several of Jack's blueprints well enough to draw them out, and he remembered all of Maddie's corrections to them. Among these were a design for a thermos that would serve as a ghost-trap and a full-sized Ghost Portal.
Thanks to Vlad's Proto-Portal, his scavenging, and his connections to the Family and its scientists, ectoplasm and spectral fuel was always in good supply at Dalv. But he never told his scientists how he managed to gather up so much ectoplasm when it was once unfathomable, and he always kept it quiet so no one else could learn about it. Whenever he came by this department he would find that his scientists were actually behind him, as they weren't used to the blueprints or the technology. He had to spend a great deal of his time going over blueprints and mechanics with them, something that aggrivated him to no end. He had more imporant things to do with his time than helping along all of his little employees. Still, the extra hands had managed to make some progress in basic design and spectral analysis.
The new employees, the greater wealth, and the partnership with a major corporation had freed up Vlad's schedule, and he was now able to have his nightly training sessions with Katou again. The raw ectoplasm that the Family used in their drink and food had been helping to cement Vlad's new persona, but it had also helped expand his powers. He could now duplicate the spectral ball that Katou had used the night before Vlad met the Family. He had learned how to fire green beams from his eyes. If he grabbed an opponent he could send a shock throughout their bodies. And he was getting better and better at handling his sword and the spectral abilities it could perform. The strength of his defences and the power behind all of his attacks had also increased. Katou was still lowering himself down to Vlad's level for a fair fight, but there was something different now. Katou was holding back less. He had begun to put more power into his attacks and had started using more complicated manoeuvres. Mere months ago, Vlad would have been eternally grateful for something like this from the samurai, as proof that he actually meant it when he said that Vlad was improving. Now, all it did was make Vlad wear a nasty smirk behind his stoic expressions when around the old warrior. He was finally throwing a bit of Katou's medicine back at him.
Katou made no obvious indication that he was suspicious about how Vlad had gained such power in so little time, but there was some change in his attitude that kept Vlad alert. Much of Katou's paternal, warm-hearted demeanour had faded away. He was still respectful and polite, but he just didn't seem as inviting or trusting as before. Vlad never pressed the matter, and it could have just been that Vlad was getting more skilled, so Katou didn't feel the need to act so paternally. But the samurai's previous insights into what had been going on in Vlad's life kept him on his toes.
There was one recent change in Vlad's life that could have added to any suspicions Katou may have had. A suspicion that his old self had held before he committed to the Family had recently obtained some validation. Luchesi had called upon him to serve the Family in more ways than just his business through Dalv. During a conversation with the Mafia don, Vlad, who was boasting about his recent progress in Katou's training, accidentally mentioned Scar's old prediction on how powerful he would become compared to a full ghost. Soon after, Luchesi, apparently delighted at this revelation, had started inviting Vlad to come along to evening events as a guest and as "some thinking muscle." Apparently, in the event that anything should happen at these events, someone with a bit more brain would be more useful to have at hand. Vlad was quite offended at being treated like some low-brown henchman with a bit more of a mind, but he knew the stakes. He knew that it was foolish to turn down Luchesi's request. He knew that there was no way to leave the mob alive, and that he still depended on them for some support. And he knew that Dalv didn't have the power and independence in the real world to serve as protection from the Family…yet. So for now, he agreed to serve as the old don's body guard.
These events were few and far-between, but as they were in the evening, they took away from Vlad's training. Whereas when he was held up with Dalv his excuse of a job was at least somewhat true, in these cases, he was flat-out lying. While Katou could never seem to tell the difference, Vlad had a feeling that, even if the old ghost didn't know what he was up to, he could sense when he wasn't telling the truth. Still, neither of them really pressed the matter.
Vlad's role of a bodyguard was limited to standing by Luchesi as he discussed business with his guests during the evenings outside the Family's home base for a long time, but a few weeks after the accident's third anniversary, that was changed.
"Sit down, Vlad," Luchesi told him when he invited him into his office, "And I congratulate you on Dalv's latest deal. There are some within the Family who object to you having certain control over your company, and I do not entirely turn from tradition, but it is a different time then when we started, and the real-world out there is your world. You should have some freedom."
"Thank you," Vlad smiled lightly. In truth, he considered Luchesi's words a sweeping sign of hypocrisy, as he shut up any new technologies for his own gain. True, Vlad kept it quiet that he had a good supply of ectoplasm, but he still let his inventions get built. But there was nothing he could do about that for now.
"I have called you here today because we need your services once again as intelligent protection. And this time it is not for me," Vlad raised an eyebrow at this.
"Yes?" he asked suspiciously.
"Tony is breaking down on me," Luchesi sighed and shook his head, "He is always nervous, but now he's going pazzesco in the head. He's crazy now. His worry is starting to affect his business. He's even started to worry about…" he gave Vlad a funny look but quickly blinked it away, "…people in the Family. I'm sending him out on a fishing trip. But the spot I am sending him…we've had a bit of trouble there before, and the two boys who watch over him now are, how do you say, stupido. We don't have a lot of trouble there, but the man who I am worried about…if he is there and something comes up, I need someone with a head on their shoulders."
"When is this little trip?" Vlad asked. He had no choice but to agree, but the timing on this could be a problem for him.
"Tonight. Behind the door we're sending you, it's always a nice day," Vlad leaned back in his chair. Two nights ago, he had to serve as Luchesi's bodyguard for a dinner meeting with a smuggler. This would be the first time that two jobs for the Family would be so close together. He didn't want to press his luck with lying to Katou so soon.
"This comes at a very awkward time for me," Vlad decided to speak up this time, "I think the Order is growing suspicious."
"If any troubles arise, the Family will protect you. You want to try getting a deal the other way around?" his words held more than a faint trace of threat to them. There was no sense in carrying out an argument now.
"May I excuse myself from my earlier appointment before we leave?" Vlad asked as politely as he could manage.
"Very well," Luchesi nodded.
---
"Business again?" Katou asked simply. They sat across from each other at the long table that held all of Katou's lamps and bottles. Vlad had arrived ready to go, with his overcoat, gloves and hat covering his black Armani suit. He had just finished telling the samurai that he wouldn't be able to train for that night.
"We have a major project in the works," Vlad said, it requires my full attention," he eyed Katou very carefully. If the samurai had any suspicions about what Vlad said, he didn't show it at all. He just stared back at Vlad from across the table, never changing expression.
"Alright," Katou finally said. Vlad waited a moment longer, examining Katou's expression, trying to decide if the old samurai was going to say something more. When it seemed the ghost was not, Vlad turned to go.
"Nice suit," he heard Katou say.
"Yes," he said, not turning around but moving his eyes back, "It's Armani," he began walking towards the mouth of the cave.
"Vlad," the samurai called again, and Vlad stopped again, still not turning around, "Be careful," Vlad slightly turned his head back. Katou's tone was cautionary, but he still didn't like it. He didn't have time to worry about it now.
"Ta," he said simply, and with that, he stepped out of the cave and flew off into The Ghost-Zone.
---
"Che cosa è la materia con voi?" Tony yelled at one of his usual henchmen, "Non potete mettere un gancio su una linea di pesca? Potreste colpire un occhio fuori!" Vlad sighed. From the Family's home base he, Tony, and two henchmen drove through The Ghost-Zone in an old Rolls Royce to a wooden door like that of a cabin. Behind it was a beautiful summer morning by a small lake, with a few trees scattered about, a small road, and pier. The grass was soft and varied in length, the air was pleasant, and the water in the lake was pure and blue. The door was located in the northwest boarder of the Order, so Vlad could see why Luchesi would want an extra guard around. Perhaps that was the reason why Tony was still so nervous despite the idyllic settings. They had barely gotten out of the car when he began shouting Italian at his henchmen for anything that he thought warranted a panic attack. Vlad stayed back by the car, leaning against it and trying to fend off boredom as he watched Tony cautiously cast out his line. It was difficult to see as the road was so far back from the lake, but he didn't really care. He wasn't fond of fishing and he found Tony's voice slightly irritating.
"Guardi quello!" he heard Tony yell, "Sguardo giusto a quello! Vigilanza dove state lanciando la vostra linea! Potreste interferire quello sul mio vestito e trascinarli nell'acqua!" Vlad sighed again.
He didn't understand what Tony was yelling, but it was his understanding that this was going to be a long evening.
---
Brice Guyart yawned and stretched out in the long grass by the far side of the lake, looking up at the bright blue sky. His sword and scabbard lay by his side and his hands rested behind his head. The Order had sent him out here a few months ago to track down Eel and investigate the whereabouts of the Family. The hunt for Eel had been called off when Katou's apprentice had taken care of it, but the search for the mob was still on, and he had kept at it all these months. He remained focused on his work most of the time, but he did have to admit – when duty led him to a place like this, it was nice to forget about why he was there and just enjoy it.
Unfortunately, as was often the case, moments like that didn't last very long.
The sound of someone shouting in Italian brought him out of his trance. The grass was long enough so that he could stay fairly well hidden if he kept low to the ground. He rolled over and stayed crouched low to the ground, wisps of the long grass stopping just above his head. He parted the grass with an agile movement of his hand and peered out across the lake. He couldn't help but let his jaw drop and felt a trickle of sweat run down his face as he took in the sight before him. Tony, one of the old mob bosses before the Family and now among Luchesi's seven advisors, was right across from him, panicking over how his two henchmen were fishing. Having come from Europe and travelled around Italy while alive, Guyart could roughly make out what he was saying, but that wasn't his prime concern at the moment. His eyes caught a tree not far from where the three were fishing. He slowly slipped back, picked up his sword, and turned into ghost-vapour, silently shifting through the long grass as he made his way across the lake.
He wasn't able to see the car off in the background or the figure leaning against it.
---
"Whatsa matter with you?" Tony was getting hysterical. His two bodyguards may not have been very bright, but they did have a sense of when their boss was getting a bit ridiculous. Whenever he got into this mood, it was best to just sit there, do nothing, and wait for him to let it all out.
"Where did you learn how to fish?" Tony shouted, "Who taught you how to fish? You know how well you fish? You don't fish well! You fish terrible! You are the worst fisher I have ever seen! You know what you could have done with that last cast? I'll tell you what you could have done! You could have gotten your hook caught on this suit! Then you could have ruined this suit or you could have dragged me along and thrown be into the lake where I would have drowned! Like a rat, like a dog, like a bum! Do you know what kind of water this is? This is ghost water! It's not real water, it's ghost water! I can drown in ghost water! I'm a ghost! Do you realise that you could have done this?" before his henchmen could answer, Tony gave out a yelp and whirled around. There was a scorch mark on the back of his suit, a trail of green smoke drifting off from it.
"Who's there?" Tony whipped out his ghost-gun, his hand shaking violently. His henchmen, now alert, had also risen to their feet and had drawn their weapons. Frantically they looked about, trying to find the source of the shot. Tony's eyes caught on to a large tree nearby. The perfect place to hide during an attack. He blindly set off three shots in the direction of the tree. The spectral pellets sped outward. The force of the gun was enough that the bullets plowed right through the tree as they were fired, but there was no indication that they hit anything behind it. The three mob ghosts remained where they were, Tony shaking all over now and hissing his breaths in through clenched teeth.
"Where are you?" he screamed. No reply. Then, green spectral lightning flew out, seemingly from the trunk of the tree itself, and caught Tony and his henchmen in its current. The electricity ran around and through their bodies, penetrating every part of their beings. The shocks scorched and burned them, but they still felt so cold that chills ran throughout their forms. Soon smoke began to drift from their bodies as the lightning took its toll. And eventually, the pain and sheer voltage shook the ghost-guns out of their hands. As soon as they hit the ground, the lightning ended and a green line of energy like a rope shot out from behind the tree, lassoed the three mob ghosts, and pulled them together in its grip. And with that, Brice Guyart stepped out from behind the tree, the other end of the rope in his left hand and his rapier in the right.
"Gentlemen," he said firmly, "And I use that term lightly, I'm afraid you are all under arrest," he began to move towards his captives as they vainly tried to escape, Tony looking even more panicked. He had scarcely taken three steps, however, when a green spectral blast shot out from Guyart's right and broke the rope, leaving the three captives tied up but removed from their captor. Guyart whirled around to face the direction the blast had come from, slipping into an épée en guarde. His opponent stoof across from him. Green smoke still drifted from his outstretched left hand, and he used his right to pull his overcoat up to cover his face. He had a cold, emotionless, piercing glare on his face, and something about him seemed itching for a fight. He fired off a second blast, but this time Guyart was ready. He dropped his sword and caught the blast in his right hand. It ran up through his arm, over his shoulders, and up into his left hand, where he fired it back at the figure. It hit him at just the right angle to knock his right hand away, and his coat fell down away from his face. He tried to turn away, but Guyart managed to see his face, and he took a step back.
"Vlad?" Guyart stared at him unbelievingly, "What are you doing here?"
"Well, let's see…" Vlad finally turned to face him and adopted a sarcastic tone, "I'm dressed like a member of the mob…I just stopped you from taking out one of the most important members of the Mafia…what do you think I'm doing here?" and, without warning, his sword became engulfed in spectral flame and he leapt forward, swinging his blade out in front of him and raising it up to strike. Guyart barely managed to kick his own sword up into his hands and parry the blow. They both stepped back, lashed out in unison, and the duel began.
Vlad and Guyart did not have identical fighting styles, and this was actually providing Vlad with an advantage. Katou had trained him in his own unique style of swordplay. It may have been predominantly samurai, but influences from other styles were incorporated into the moves. Adding in ghost powers and martial arts into the style helped as well. As they were both on the Order's founding council, Katou had taught Guyart the basics of how to defend against his form of swordplay, but Guyart hadn't changed much since becoming a resident of The Ghost-Zone. He had stuck to the same method of sword fighting he had used in life – classical fencing. He was a master at it, and his speed and skill managed to create an adequate defence, but it was clear which style was more effective here in The Ghost-Zone.
Vlad was also helped by the fact that Guyart still seemed in shock and was foolishly trying to hold back. Vlad, on the other hand, was giving the fight his all. Though he resented being treated like a bodyguard, he didn't have any choice but to save Tony and his guards. If he didn't, the Family would place the responsibility on him. But there was a part of him that enjoyed fighting. This side of him fed off the adrenaline created by the battle and propelled him to press the attack. It wanted to fight. It wanted to attack. It didn't care who the opponent was – it just wanted to be in battle. Since the opponent happened to be Guyart, though, another part of him was driving him forward as a way to lash back at the Order and show them what he really thought of all their self-righteous, chivalrous nonsense. Beyond all else, though, all of him was in agreement on one thing – now that the hat was out of the bag, Guyart had to go. If he was allowed to escape back to the Order, with out without his captives, everything would fall apart. For his own sake and his sake alone, Vlad needed to win this fight.
Thrusts, cuts, parries, and lunges continued to be exchanged. As the initial shock of finding who his opponent was began to wear away, Guyart's swordplay became more efficient and more threatening. He began using fencing manoeuvres that were not part of how Vlad fought. And the Renaissance man had hundreds of years' experience over Vlad. Vlad still had the drive and the need to win, but Guyart had a motive as well – his duties. Tears began to show in the two combatants' clothing as the fight became more deadly and more close calls began to appear. Vlad soon became desperate. He hadn't followed Katou's code of honour for battle to begin with, but now, he completely threw all morals and ethics to the wind – his own personal ones included. The more the fight went on, the more savage he became. And all the while, neither of them had broken off from swordplay to use their ghost-powers.
Unfortunately for Vlad, Guyart was the first of them to think to do so.
He caught Vlad's sword in a tight parry and charged up a blast in his hand. He thrust it forward into Vlad's chest. The younger man went flying back, his hat falling off his head. He rolled back up to his feet, only to find Guyart already two steps ahead of him. Three more blasts were fired off, one from his hand and two from his eyes. Vlad dodged the first blast, but the eye beams hit him dead centre in the shoulders. He felt a yelp escape from his throat and his sword slip from his hands as he was pushed back further. He barely got his wind back in time to see Guyart flying towards him with a flèche, sword ablaze with green and his body looking like an arrow shot from the bow. There was nowhere to hide and no time to raise up a shield. Vlad deployed the only defence he could summon forth in time – he went human, and Guyart flew right through him. As soon as his opponent passed by he rolled off to the side and swept up his sword, darting around to meet his foe again. Charging his blade up again, he slashed out in the middle of the air, and a sharp wave of green sped towards Guyart. The duellist flipped over it and lunged, Vlad barely managing a parry. He then used his eye blasts yet again, this time catching Vlad right in the face and knocking him to the ground. He raised his rapier up high and prepared to thrust it down towards Vlad's right shoulder.
Vlad watched as the blade came down towards him. It moved like a falcon diving for a hare, but it seemed to take seconds to move even the slightest inch. One thing was crystal clear, though – there was no time to raise a shield, and no time to become human with this attack, and any attempt to parry would result in his losing an arm – and either way, he wouldn't be able to fight. Nothing short of a miracle could save him now. He kept following the blade as it darted downward.
'It ends like this,' he thought, too shocked to allow any stronger thoughts or emotions to form. Damnit! If he could only split up for a moment or two…
And suddenly, as if a huge current of air opened up inside him, he was pushed off to the side…and another Vlad came out from his right side and was pushed in the other direction as Guyart's sword landed between them, where the one Vlad had been.
The two Vlads stared at one another in awe as they stood up. The three captives let their jaws slip as they stared at the double Vlads. And Guyart backed up several steps himself. This wasn't a ghost-power…at least not a full ghost's power. Never in all his years had he seen anything like this…
"What the…?" he allowed himself to say. Vlad began to literally look himself over. Both Vlads had blades in their hands, both were in the same condition, and both seemed to have the same mind-set. They grinned at one another and let flames roll over their swords. They turned in unison to face Guyart, their grins slipping into menacing sneers. And they shot forward to attack.
Guyart was more than skilled enough to fight off two opponents at the same time, even if they adopted a fighting style that wasn't well known to him. But shock had returned to him, and he was again at a disadvantage because of it. The Vlads pressed their upper hand and drove the fight back, showing no mercy and never moving in sync with one another. Guyart held his defence up as best he could and tried using his ghost-powers to strike back, but the Vlads did likewise. Soon it became very clear who was dominating the battle. Guyart knew that this was the time for a drastic measure. He jumped back and vanished in a whirl of green. Seconds later he re-materialised behind one Vlad and knocked his foot against his, knocking that Vlad off his feet. He vanished again, and re-appeared behind the second Vlad. This Vlad became aware of the unwelcome presence, but Guyart had already shot his blade out in a thrust.
But this Vlad, as he saw the thrust coming, suddenly split in two himself. The third Vlad looked around for a second, noticed he had a sword, and smiled, drifting into a samurai stance. The first Vlad, who had picked himself off the ground, eyed his two counterparts and wondered. They had split up on impulse to avoid an attack – could he do that on his own, without the instinct to survive. He closed his eyes and focused, trying to find what it was that allowed him to do that ability. It was something in his spectral power – that much he was aware of – but what part of that power was it? He began to shake as he searched and focused, trying to find it. And suddenly, like the crack of a rifle, it went off. He became a glowing white silhouette for a moment, and from that silhouette shot out two Vlads. There were now four of him, all armed and all set on the same goal. They all turned to Guyart and moved in.
Four against one…all on the founding council had trained themselves and their students to defend against this situation. They had performed drills with four combatants targeting one person. But it had been at least forty-some years since the last time Guyart himself had practised that drill – and Katou and Shao-lin were the only ones who had been in this situation in real combat. The Vlads had him surrounded on all sides, and none of them did exactly the same thing as the others. Guyart rotated around and blocked as many attacks as best he could, but they had moved in so close that it was impossible not to get struck by one of them. If one was attacking with his sword, the other would use his eye beams. If one was firing a spectral blast, the other would grab Guyart's shoulder and give him a shock. Scorch marks, slashes, and burns began to appear all over him as the Vlads became more aggressive and as they began to wear the duellist down. He needed a quick relief if he had any hope to make it out of this battle alive. He quickly curled up in mid-air as green lightning began to move around him and piece together a spectral ball. He shot the energy outward, and all four Vlads were pushed back with it. Remaining in the air, Guyart uncurled himself, put his sword into his left hand, and stretched his right hand out. A huge green paddle suddenly materialised just in front of it. He raised his hand up, and the paddle followed. Then he swung it down towards the Vlads. Perhaps knocking them together would get them to reassemble. But they seemed to be aware of his strategy, and all four rolled out of its path. The Vlad that was behind Guyart and to his right flew up high in the air, out of reach from the paddle. He materialised his sword's scabbard, put it away, and raised both his hands over his head. Then he brought them down and shot out green spectral lightning from his fingertips, and Guyart became engulfed in the surge. The paddle soon vanished as the bolts took their toll, bringing the duellist down to the ground. A second Vlad, in front of Guyart and to his left, shot eye beams out at him, striking Guyart right in the face. The third Vlad fired a spectral blast, sending Guyart falling to his knees, and the fourth Vlad charged up his sword and shot out a sharp wave of power, slashing the Renaissance man right across the back. Then, all four Vlads suddenly relented in their attacks and flew off to Guyart's right. In perfect unison they charged up pure-white spectral blasts and threw them forward, the blasts all conjuring together just as they hit their target. Guyart went flying, the blasts propelling him backwards. Within seconds he had rammed into the same tree he had been hiding behind, his sword rolling off by his side. His head hit the tree hardest of all, and the wind was knocked out of him. The Vlads all smiled triumphantly as they joined together as one once again.
It would have been quite simple for Vlad to leave Guyart as he was. They could take him back to Luchesi and leave him in the don's hands. It would have saved Vlad anymore involvement or exhaustion over the matter. But, as he turned to walk towards Tony and his henchmen to cut them free, a single thought flashed through his mind.
If he didn't finish Guyart, there was always the chance he could escape.
And, as that one thought flowed through his mind, something snapped, like a railroad bridge crashing down into a canyon. He stopped just as he was about to cut the ropes around Tony and his men as the thought flowed through his mind like a dark fog. He looked down at his sword. Spectral flames consumed the blade. And, raising the blade over his head, he whirled around, flew forward, and struck. The second the blade entered Guyart's torso, the duellist vanished in a puff of green smoke.
Vlad saw him disappear, but he didn't stop with his strike. He pressed onward. He kept his lunge going until almost the entire blade had gone into the tree. It was then and only then that realisation struck him.
He had done that.
With his own two hands and his self-centred motives, he had taken out a Renaissance man and a member of the Order with a sword that had come from that man's friend.
And it was all him. There was no temporary insanity, no second voice, no overshadowing. It had been entirely him.
A glassy-eyed look came over Vlad as he looked up away from his sword, seeming to stare into nothing. He was barely aware of his hands as they let go of the sword's handle. He had just killed a man in cold blood. He knew he should have felt something. Yet, despite his shock, there was neither remorse nor regret inside of him. This little event guaranteed that Guyart could never reveal what Vlad was up to. It had to be done. And no one would ever know how it happened. There was no need for remorse or regret. If anything, it called for complete joy and celebration at putting himself in the clear. His plans were safe. His alliances remained secret. And he had just taken out one of the Order's best warriors – his skills had to have been something to achieve that. He had every right to feel pleased with himself. But he felt nothing. No relief, no happiness, no joy…nothing. Just hollow shock and emptiness. It was as if he didn't even care.
And he didn't know what to make of that.
A blank stare still plastered on his face, Vlad reached down without looking and pulled his sword out of the tree. He bent down and picked up Guyart's sword. He slowly walked over to Tony and his henchmen and cut them three. They rose up, staring at Vlad like he was both a guardian angel and a demon from Hell. The four of them turned towards the car and moved towards it slowly.
Shock, exhaustion, and a desire to get as far away from that place as possible prevented any of them from thinking to pick up the fishing poles, bait, ghost-guns, and Vlad's hat before they left.
---
Vlad, Tony, and their two companions quietly entered Luchesi's office. The Mafia don was dressed differently. He was in a black suit with a rose pinned on the left side, and he had his hat and overcoat on. He had been reaching for his cape when they had entered, as though he was just about to leave. Tony stepped forward and took him over into a corner of the room, and the two whispered between one another. Vlad could tell they were speaking in Italian, but they were speaking so quietly he couldn't make out any distinct words. Not that he would understand them anyway. And he still felt too empty to care.
The quiet conversation continued. Soon, Luchesi came over to Vlad, a wide-eyed look on his face. He seemed ready to faint and leap for joy at the same time.
"Is this true what Tony tells me?" he said, still in a whisper, "Brice Guyart was there, and you saved Tony and his boys and finished him off forever? Is this true?" without saying a word, Vlad lifted up Guyart's sword and handed it to Luchesi. His hand trembling, he took it, and looked it over as though he had been given Excalibur. He handed the blade to Tony, who set it leaning against the right bookshelf. Luchesi lay both his hands on Vlad's shoulders and gave him a fatherly smile.
"Well done," he quickly embraced him, "Very well done. You are owed a debt of gratitude for this. I don't mean a small little favour, either. One day, if there is something that you must have to better your life, you ask it of me, and you will have it," he clapped his hands on Vlad's shoulders again and finally let go. Vlad gave him a polite nod. Luchesi seemed to sense what was going on in his mind.
"Of course, you must be tired and drained after all this mess," he said, and he turned to Tony's two boys, "You two. Show Vlad to a room," he turned back to Vlad, "I want you to get some sleep and clean yourself up. There is an event this weekend that we are to attend, and you will be coming with us not as a guard, but as a guest," Vlad nodded again, and he followed Tony's henchmen out of the room. He paid no mind to Luchesi's invitation, his warmth, or his offer of a debt. For now, all he wanted to do was sleep.
Back in the office, Tony was again eyeing where Vlad had been with a suspicious eye. He had never been comfortable with Vlad's going ahead with his own plans instead of those of the Family, but after the events of today, he was genuinely terrified of him.
"You sure you want to give him a promise like that?" he asked, though not turning to face Luchesi.
"You should be offering him a promise," the don snorted, "Besides, what's he gonna ask for? An army?" he chuckled at that, but Tony just kept staring.
He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.