DH AN: Here's Chapter Seven

AN 2: Just a brief reminder again that this Fic occurs after Not As I Know Him has been resolved.

AN 3: As always a big Thank you to the lovely Attahua for allowing me the use of her Aviary. Also, go read her fic An Emerald Phoenix Renewed. Vexing Little Bird deserves all the love. Also thanks to her for ruining a perfectly good intimidating moniker... but it IS accurate so... it's not really ruined, I just have to giggle every time those initials pop up!


Chapter Seven

Arlomhe counts an hour on her watch. This is not like him at all. The R.H. doesn't lie in wait, he makes an entrance. Realization pricks her mind, as again she swears she sees somebody stalking through the parking garage. But admittedly from her vantage point on the floor wedged between the front and back seats, her perception is more than a little off.

Even with time for… procurement of a more legitimate entry method…a retrieval like this shouldn't take more than half an hour. Upon hearing a definite thud that booms throughout the underground parking structure, she quietly makes her decision.

Consequences be damned.

She hears definite retreating footsteps- her breath hitches as the realization that they belong to Nassr slams into her- and the ding of the elevator door. She fumbles quickly for the phone in her pocket, flips it open and selects the only grouping of three she has on the thing. She thanks every deity she can think of that she runs no risk of accidentally texting her employer, as well as that between Sahin, Odion, and Harkin, help will come. She puts it on silent before attacking the buttons.

Back up needed. 4total needed- 2 Drivers. 1 van. No Reply, just GO! Park no more than 3 blocks away. NOT NEAR BLDG! NO CLOAKS! Depart in 30-45 min. AS

Placing the device on the seat, she quickly unclasps her cloak by touch and slides out of the garment. She's present without her employer's go-ahead; it wouldn't do terribly well to go charging in. And if this arrangement was for him to come alone- and why that didn't immediately set off the warning bells, she cannot comprehend- barging in wearing his colors would be disastrous. Her clothing choice of a navy blue shirt with tight long sleeves and black pants with four pockets has its advantage over the purple draping cloak anyway.

Sitting up slowly, Arlomhe still remains aware of the windows; quick movement naturally draws the eye and she can't be absolutely certain that Nassr and Benu are alone in a building this large. She sees a wall out the rear window; good- means her employer hasn't completely thrown common sense to the wind. The shadow of the ceiling structure along two thirds of the path to the stairwell is in her favor too. A small relief floods through her as she checks for the utility knife with a slight pat on her right hip pocket and finds it. Not the best thing to arm herself with, but it is better than nothing. She pulls the phone from the seat, shuts it and slides it into her right side pocket just below the waistline of her pants. Steeling herself, she exits the car with very placed footsteps for two reasons- echo factor is larger even with her softer soled shoes and the last thing she wants is to slip.

The boring, near yearly trips to this place now seem invaluable. The likely exhibit in question is on the fourth floor. Stairwell is best point of entry, both because it'll keep her moving and she's less likely to be caught if in motion. There are two parking garages, one on the right section and one on the left and their entry points converge at the third floor stairwell. Aside from the black sedan she snuck into, there's only the bright red convertible, which Arlomhe assumes belongs to the rather unfortunate curator, parked here. It means the Cobras' aviary pair has a smidge further to go to their transport. As she moves forward, her gaze quickly sweeps left to right.

Arlomhe stills before leaving her concealment, eyes sweeping the garage three times. It's not the distance that she'll have to dash through that bothers her. Once she reaches that stairwell, there's no turning back. She glances at her watch.

An hour and a quarter. It's not like him at all. She steps off and bolts for the stairwell as if her life depends on it. She slides in and immediately begins her ascent to the fourth floor. As a precaution upon reaching the converging third floor stairwell, she crouches and is far more careful of her movements. The last thing she needs is to get nabbed by somebody from the aviary's car. She shakily exhales as she finally reaches the fourth floor entry point. Charging in is definitely stupid.

But so is going anywhere near sensitive material alone. As is following someone without their knowledge. But this has trouble written all over it.

Before she knows it, she's quietly pacing past the pharaonic busts of men long dead toward an open case on a pedestal, checking to her left and right every five paces. And she halts upon sight of the Rod with its unnerving eye. She pulls a handkerchief that's dyed this perfect shade of periwinkle, courtesy of a laundry mishap, from her left pocket and wraps it around the entirety of the item's shaft; that electrifying feeling is something she doesn't want to deal with.

She sees The R.H. facedown on the floor. She rolls her eyes and quietly forces words through her teeth. "Reason number one why you never go in alo-" Arlomhe barely has a second to react as the Rod's shiny surface reflects the barrel of a pistol… She didn't check the rafters.

"You make a move toward me and I shoot; I don't miss." Again, Benu is heard before she is seen. The pistol hammer cocks back. It's all the incentive Arlomhe needs to dive forward to the floor and surrender the loose grip she had on the Rod. She tenses, breaths light, quick, and shallow, as Benu's voice continues to float through the air. "Nassr, take your leave. The apparent Huntress and I need to have a little… girl talk."

Arlomhe catches sight of Nassr on the farthest side of a cushioned bench only for a second and then immediately looks at the pedestal's base- eyes front is always the best call. Silence hangs thickly in the air for fifteen seconds and then those same tell-tale footsteps grow more echo-y until the elevator opens, shuts and the hydraulics groan to life. Benu drops lightly from the rafters. "Now then, Ms. Sharti." Arlomhe slowly rises from the floor, noting that any facetiousness is gone from Benu's words. "I'm certain that you've probably already set your contingency plan into motion with a request for backup." Benu slinks behind the other girl, pulling the phone from its concealment. A shudder runs up Arlomhe's spine as the facetious edge returns and Benu passes the phone to her. "Call them off would you?" Arlomhe grits her teeth… The bird has her in a nasty catch-22. If she complies; she surrenders any shot at retrieval. If she doesn't, she'll likely wind up battered and or bruised- hopefully just bruised. She fights the urge to lightly press on her right shoulder as the pain flares before dulling to a radiating throb.

Surrendering the retrieval shot it is then. "Fine." Arlomhe presses the word through her teeth.

"You don't mind if I watch, do you?"

"You ask as if I have a choice." Arlomhe retorts as she selects the right letters.

Cancel Request. All is well. Return ETA unknown. Do not reply. AS

She selects the "Send" option and closes the phone.

"You don't need backup anyway." Benu plucks the device from the other girl's fingers. "So long as you cooperate, and I have no doubt you will, your risk of injury is nil."

Arlomhe spins on a heel to see the phone now open and poised for breakage over Benu's bent knee. "Don't. Destroy. The phone." Arlomhe snatches the device away and opens the battery cover, revealing a small black square on the inside. "There's a tracker and the minute that any part of the device becomes electrically compromised, that tracker shuts down… serving as an SOS- which guarantees backup."

"That's just electrical tape."

"Ok ok so that was a bluff… a lousy one. But please don't…. that would be my third busted phone in as many months and it'll come out of my already sparse pay." The first one found death by washing machine and somehow the second was too close to a magnet.

"Fine. Keep the phone, but turn it off." Benu paces on Arlomhe's left side, steps light and near inaudible. "We don't really need any interruptions, now do we?"

"Do I have a choice?" Arlomhe turns to the open case on the pedestal. He came alone. He wasn't expecting anyone else. She shakes her head lightly; he should have known better.

"Not if you want to keep things civil." Benu follows Arlomhe's line of sight, "I quite regret not installing a camera. The captured images would have probably been more valuable than this card you came in for."

"I'm not after a card."

"Oh don't tell me you're after him…" Benu's eyes quickly pan to her right. "Unless his famous initials stand for 'Really Hot'."

"Try 'Rarely Happy' -fits much better- and he's old enough to be my father." Arlomhe's face sours. Not technically a lie, but a smidge closer to the truth than she cares for.

"What a shame… Here I've been hoping for a guy who's as aesthetically pleasing as he is intelligent; although seeing as he walked right into an ambush and checked nothing… starting to reconsider that second bit." Benu steps around the pedestal that still bears the open case. "He clearly invested in you… who looked every which way and seemed to know the place like the back of her own hand without the blueprints…what a charming little lookout you are."

Benu then walks past Arlomhe and slowly nudges the hood off of the prone man with the tip of her boot. "You downplayed him quite a bit… he doesn't look a day over thirty."

"All faces are revealed now except for yours. Surely given the circumstance that is highly in your favor, you would do me the honor of revealing your face Lady Benu."

"I know what you're trying to do." Benu's leather boots audibly skid across the marble floor as she turns on a heel. "Not being able to read the easiest of nonverbal cues brings unease." Arlomhe nearly misses Benu's eyes shift slowly to The R.H.'s semi exposed face and then back to her. "It's a little too like him." Arlomhe stiffens as the unsettling glee rolls off Benu's tongue. "Just how close to him are you?"

Arlomhe stays rooted, focused on Benu's every movement. Holstering her pistol, Benu saunters lightly by Arlomhe's left shoulder and just past it. "Or does he just have a thing for younger women?" Arlomhe sees red as she grabs he exposed ponytail that stems from a clearly self-made hole in the balaclava with her right hand and her own utility knife with her left. She pulls hard with clearly adrenaline-fueled fury with her right hand and creates a half inch cut downward in the already damaged fabric with the knife. Tossing aside the knife, Arlomhe swiftly rips at least half of Benu's facial concealment away.

"Say that to my face!"

Benu laughs quietly and obliges. "And the fury-driven strength appears… you must truly be desperate."

And in that moment-Benu is gone, replaced by Arlomhe's hallucinated tormentor. The two steps taken are not the inaudible paces of the aviary-named ace, but the punctuated footfalls of many a man's dread.

"Where is your courage now?" It's his voice but it's far too sultry. He draws the Rod and she immediately back-steps once, twice, thrice until she trips over something and lands hard on her back. Sitting up, she realizes that he's stopped his advance and then her gaze snaps to what she tripped over.

Never in the near seven years she's been aware of it has she been glad to see that damn thing. Or thought that she'd be relieved to see that what's brandished her way is not the object at her feet. There's a first time for everything. Arlomhe shakes her head vigorously, attempting to snap out of her bizarre dazed state.

It works, as all is now visually as it should be. Benu is now in Arlomhe's direct line of sight, a long knife in her right hand in a reverse grip, tip of the blade just over the true Rod's line. Focused primarily on the knifepoint, Arlomhe spies the entire balaclava on the floor to Benu's right. And when she sees the other girl's face the only thing she can think is that Greece would have probably started dozens of wars over it.

"First a gun and now a Bowie knife… are you some sort of walking armory?!"

"Asks the one who merely brought a utility knife; that's shamefully underprepared- even if you're not expecting to use it." Benu swaps the grip on the knife with far too much ease. The term practiced does the action a disservice. "I prefer to be prepared than even run the risk of being caught off-guard." Sheathing the knife on her right side, her left hand immediately rests on the holstered pistol. "Consider yourself warned that I will not be again."

"Like you caught him off-guard?" Arlomhe can't hide the fear in her voice as she glances at her father, still unconscious on the floor.

"Oh, That was beautiful… Don't you worry, Little Lookout, he will wake soon enough."

"He wasn't expecting you."

"His folly- something that valuable is quite the bargaining chip." Benu again paces away from the opened case, aware that the girl's gaze is following her every move. "I'm certain he has his reasons… perhaps a personal one." Benu pulls the card out from her tight-fitting jacket's inner pocket. "His refusal to negotiate peaceably certainly alludes to a personal one." Benu shows the card's face. "How much do you know about your employer's power lust?"

"You tread on thin ice." Arlomhe doesn't miss the shudder that makes its way up her own spine as the words leave her lips. It's far too much like hi- She trembles... and realizes in that moment her hand is now laying in full view. Her most valuable card, exposed.

Benu steps into her line of sight. "I know what you are now..." Her voice is almost annoyingly sing-song and her words rhythmically and tonally match up to the first line of "Ring around the Rosy."

Arlomhe tenses again as Benu starts to circle her. "So he does have a heart... or did he merely woo someone for the night and take his leave the morning after, only to track down his progeny years later?"

"Don't you dare insult my mother!" The words come through teeth and Arlomhe takes two steps forward.

The pistol reappears far too quickly for Arlomhe's eyes to catch. "Ah ah ah... one more step and I'll shoot... a lot of these things don't exactly mesh with a bullet. Including Daddy Dearest."

There's now one thing Arlomhe finds more unsettling than control by the Millennium Rod. And that's control by gunpoint. She grits her teeth, but halts anyway.

"Now that we see eye to eye, Heiress to Heiress as it were..." Again, Benu circles. "Did he place you in his upper echelon on your merit? For your protection? Or is the placement simply to keep you in line?" Circle two. "How far does his familial favor extend?" Circle three. "Have you ever reached its limit?" She pauses for effect as she starts her fourth rotation. "With this stunt of yours, you may well find out." Arlomhe shudders with dread at the vexing little bird's glee- mostly at the fact that she's not wrong.

As if on cue, The R.H. stirs. Benu pulls an envelope from her coat and presses it into Arlomhe's hands upon completion of the rotation. "Instructions for the deal's completion. With perhaps one minor addendum." The smile oozes from her tone as easily as it appears on her exposed face while she watches Arlomhe squirm minutely. "I'd much rather negotiate with you, seeing as Daddy Dearest really wasn't all that impressive tonight."

"You forced him into a negotiation he wasn't expecting."

"He's always insisted that he's always ready for any situation."

Arlomhe rolls her eyes. "He bluffs."

"I've provided the terms, and the location for the exchange." Benu shows a grin as she watches The R.H.'s slow and subtle return to the land of the conscious- he won't be fully aware until she's long gone. "The rest, Little Lookout, is in your court. Provided you manage to get out of this mess, I have no doubt you'll be prompt and you can get right back into Daddy Dearest's good graces." She then conceals the card in it former place and starts to back-step steadily, the barely audible paces waning as they make light contact with the floor.

"Wait a minute, you can't just go!" Arlomhe watches as Benu sweeps the shredded balaclava from the floor.

"Not my problem." Again in that annoying singsong matched to that rhyme with far too much glee. All Arlomhe can do is watch as Benu slinks out the side door to the stairwell.

"Vexing Little Bird indeed…" The phrase slides slowly and softly past Arlomhe's lips. And now, she has nothing to do except wait.


DH: Bad news, I had to end it there…. Good news is I have a great start on the next chapter so hopefully it won't be long before I update this again. Please Review and I hope y'all have a great holiday season if I don't post again before then.