Chapter 60 - Je ne Suis Pas Encore Morte
Montreal, Canada, December 7th 1899

John Ashleigh was getting impatient as he sat in his seat in the corner of the cafe. He cradled his first cup of coffee of the evening in his cold hands, tapping his fingers against the side of the cup. He depended on the heat from his cup to keep him warm. He was wearing some woollen fingerless gloves. Even wrapped up in his thick jumper and worn out leather coat, he could feel the early December chill.

The cafe was only small but it felt cold, dim and dreary. It put him in the mood to go down the street in the small Montreal town and find something a little stronger than coffee. Despite how the cafe seemed, there were still a few other miserable- looking customers. The stubborn ticking of a clock on the wall was beginning to aggravate him as he subconsciously listened to it. There was little else for him to do.

John was waiting for a friend who had sent him a letter asking for the two to meet, stating he greatly wished to speak with him and that he couldn't explain it on paper. The two had met roughly ten years ago when the lad was only about ten. They ended up keeping in contact through pen and paper, but John could not fathom what this meeting could be about. What could be so urgent that it required meeting face to face?

Glancing up to the clock on the wall, he found the man he was expecting to meet was already almost an hour late. John sighed impatiently and took a drink of his coffee. His chair had a slight wobble, which was rapidly getting on his nerves. No matter what he tried he couldn't keep it still.

Another five minutes passed and just as John finished his now warm drink, his friend came through the door. He looked like he had rushed to get here at least. After quickly swigging the last few sips of coffee back, John half stood up to get his attention.
Raising his hand slightly in acknowledgement, the man hastened over to him. The two shook hands and sat down, facing each other.

"I'm very sorry that I'm late. I lost my way. I came as quickly as I could. I'm choking for a cup of tea- perhaps I can buy you a drink?"
"Not to worry, Quincey. You're here now. I'll take your offer of that drink, but unless you can speak french, you'll have to leave the ordering to me."
Quincey handed him the money whilst John left to order the two drinks and brought them to the table when they were ready.

John took a refreshing sip of the new hot drink, which warmed him to the core. Quincey took to adding a little sugar to his tea. John took in how Quincey looked, especially as he had not seen him for so long. He only really recognised him by his well-trimmed auburn hair and the lively face of a boy that hadn't changed much. Quincey could only have been twenty at the very most. He was dressed very well, with an expensive-looking waistcoat and suit. His grey eyes seemed to be humming with energy at whatever had brought the two to meet.

"So, is everything alright on your side?" Quincey asked. He too was surprised at his friend's appearance. John was in his forties now and was very weather-worn from his outside work. Wrinkles were beginning to emerge at his green eyes, honest eyes, cool and steady, the likes of which could invoke anyone to have unmoving confidence in him.
"Grand, grand. And yourself?" John asked, running his hand through his short brown hair.
"Better than ever."

"Good. Now then, what is that you needed to talk to me about?"
"Of course. Well, do you recall that I managed to get a job in the Secret Service, moving files about in the back rooms?" Quincey asked quietly.
"Yes, I remember and I'm damn sure you're not meant to tell anyone you're working there," John pointed out, almost hissing it.
"Nevermind that. You see I had to talk to you- you're the only one who I can trust and might actually believe me. Though even you might doubt what I say," the young man began to explain, greatly excited.
"For god's sake, get on with it, Quincey."

"Right, well a couple of months ago- September it was- I had to take some folders out of one of the agent's rooms. I accidentally dropped two or three of them. You won't believe what fell out from one of the folders," Quincey whispered.
"Something you weren't meant to look at?" John grumbled.
"My mother's photograph! Well- my real mother that is. The very woman I have been trying to find. After that, my curiosity got the better of me and I looked into the file. I could hardly believe what I was reading. She is part of a so-called 'League of Extraordinary Gentlemen'. Can you believe it?!" The last sentence came out louder than it was meant to and several heads swerved to see the noise.

"A league? What's all that about?" John found himself asking once the attention turned away from Quincey, now also intrigued.
"Originally it was all a scheme from James Moriarty, you've probably heard of him. There were seven people that were part of it and when they realised it was a trap they were able to stop him. The British Government decided to make them official should they ever be needed. Most of the time they just do as they please. John, they really are incredible people! One was invisible, there was a doctor who could change into a beast - oh and there's the agent of ours who is working with them. There are a few others including my mother. They go about in this great big ship- and it can travel underwater."

John, who had been taking another sip of his coffee, began to choke. It took him a few seconds to regain himself. Quincey was too into his tale to really acknowledge it.
"What did you say about a boat?" he asked as he coughed.
"That's how they get around. I can't remember its name or anything. Why do you ask?"
"Does… Does the Nautilus seem familiar?" he asked carefully, almost fearfully.
"Why, yes! Yes, that… that was its name." Quincey narrowed his brows in curious surprise. "How did you-"
"Who captains it?" John pressed on, suddenly immensely eager to find out despite his anxiousness.

Quincey had to think for a moment. John swallowed hard, waiting tensely as the seconds felt like years. This was the last thing he expected to be hearing this evening.
"It's... oh, an Indian fellow. What was his name again? It began with an N... Nemo? Yes, Nemo- or something of the like."
John leaned back in his chair- stunned. Quincey raised an eyebrow as John muttered, "He's back…" He knew that name, even if it wasn't his real one.
"What?"
"Quincey, I need you to tell me everything you know, please. This is very important."

With his excitement overtaking his regard for the rules of the Secret Service, he quietly began to explain the League's encounter with Moriarty.

John's stomach turned to lead and curdled with his coffee.

John was a little apprehensive to go back home. He entered quietly, hanging up his coat on the pegs. As he did so, his wife came out to see who was there.

She was a beautiful woman. Her facial features were smoothly defined though the first marks of old age threatened to emerge. She seemed to naturally possess a bit of an icy reserve to those she did not know. By nature, she kept herself to herself but to John, she was caring and warm. She was his world and he dreaded having to explain this to her.

"Was everything alright, John? You seemed to be a while," she smiled, smoothing out the wrinkles in her plain green Indian dress- her sari.
"Oh, yes, it. It was... fine. Quincey just wanted to tell me something but he was running late," John answered, taking off his gloves and shoving them in his coat pocket. He seemed to hesitate in looking at her.

"And are you alright?" she asked, walking towards him. "You seem a little... shaken."
John stopped and sighed. He pulled off his hat and scratched his head. "In all honesty, Janni, I'm not sure." He balanced his woollen hat on top of his coat. "Is Hira asleep?"
"Yes, she went to bed about an hour ago."
He nodded in approval. Janni approached and brought her hand to his cheek. "John, please talk to me, what's wrong? You're starting to frighten me."

John held onto her hand and kissed it softly. "I'm sorry, it's just something important Quincey said. I'll explain everything. Can we go sit down?" John explained.

Frowning in confusion, she followed him into the lounge.
"Would you like anything?" she asked her husband as he sat down.
"No, thank you, my love. I think you'd best sit down. I don't know how you're going to take this."
Janni frowned as she sat herself down on the other opposite couch. She played with the wedding ring on her hand. John had worked hard for years for that ring. It never left her finger. He hoped she wasn't worried about their marriage over the way he was acting.

Most of the furniture in the house was second hand. It was the cheapest he could find but the quality was high enough. Not everything matched, but neither he nor Janni was concerned over such things. Everything worked as it was meant to and that was the most important thing. John didn't have the money to buy everything new. Food and rent were more important.

John began to explain everything Quincey had told him. Janni was light in the face until he mentioned Nemo. Her reserve turned to ice within the blink of an eye. "So this League, is it a current mission or was this a while ago?" she asked carefully.
"New and current; they formed in August. They lost two, but the others I mentioned are still alive and well… Nemo is back and working for the British," John explained grimly.

Janni took a steadying breath. The two of them sat in heavy silence. John seemed to be waiting to see what Janni did next.

She stood up and went to the kitchen, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Janni," he called.
"I'm fine," she snapped.
John sighed and rubbed his head. His fingers got tangled in his curly hair and he gave up. He didn't know whether to follow or not.

With a deep breath, he went into the hall only to hear gentle footsteps coming down the stairs. It was Hira, his daughter. She was ten, almost eleven now. He'd been saving up for her birthday in January. She had beautiful long black hair down past her hips, but it was plaited for her to sleep better.
"Father?" she whispered, nervously wringing out her long white nightgown.
"Another bad dream?" he asked softly.

She nodded.

John glanced at the kitchen before he began to climb the stairs. He put his hand on her shoulder guiding her back upstairs.
"Come on, bonnie girl. You don't need to be frightened," he smiled softly. "What was it this time?"
"Those American men who live near the butchers were trying to break into our house..." she explained quietly, climbing back into bed.
"It was just a dream, Hira. You don't need to worry about that lot. They're all bark and no bite," he smiled, tucking her back into bed. "Besides, even if they tried, do you think I'd let them get anywhere near my special little girl?"

Hira smiled as she snuggled back down.
"Now you get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning; I'll take you to buy a new book."
"Thank you, father," she yawned.
John kissed her forehead.
"Goodnight, Sweetheart."
"Goodnight," she whispered.

John sat with her, stroking her hair until she fell asleep. Once he was sure, he crept back downstairs to find Janni.

As soon as he opened the kitchen door, Janni, wild-eyed and tense, demanded, "Why did you have to tell me all this?"
"Quincey wanted to know if we would help him find his mother. He still doesn't know that Nemo is your-"
"No, don't even say it! I don't want his name spoken in this house! That man is nothing to me. Your father was the one who looked after me, not him- Why can't Quincey look for his own mother?"

"He's just young, Janni. He wanted a travelling partner is all. If you don't want to go then we won't. He probably just thought he'd give Hira a chance to see the world a little. He offered to pay-"
"It's not about the money, John, and don't think I have anything against the boy. However, I for one am not going anywhere near this League, and neither is Hira. I wish Mr Harker all the luck in the world and if he wasn't part of it then there's a chance I would help."

"Then I'll tell Quincey we can't go," John said calmly. Janni wasn't listening.
"Can you imagine it? That filth would probably try to crawl back into our lives. He'd throw his name around and strut about like he's the best father of the century. Why did you have to remind me of him?!"
"I didn't know if Hira changed things and-"

"Hira? Do you know what he would say as soon as he saw her? How much he would care?!"
"Keep your voice down," John grumbled.
"He'd just complain at her being a girl; that he doesn't have his precious male heir. He felt the same for me without a doubt. No, that man- if you can even call him that- is not seeing Hira. Not whilst there's breath in my body. Not after he left me for dead and-"

"Janni!" John finally had to shout. Janni stopped for a moment, somewhat bewildered.
"Then we won't go," he continued loudly. Within an instant, his voice softened. "I'm sorry I've brought him up, but I had to ask."
Janni's icy reserve began to melt, leaving behind the memories of a tearful past.
John moved forward and held her close. "I'm sorry, but I wasn't going to make that choice for you. I had to ask."
"I just hate that man," she whispered into his chest.

John stroked her long hair softly and kissed the top of her head. "I know, my love. It's alright." He felt his own temper flare-up. Even after all this time, Captain Nemo was still trying to tear his family apart. Just his very name could send his wife tumbling down. It was done now at least. There was only one person he had to protect his family from, and that was Janni's own father: the traitor who left her behind on the Island.

So there you have it, Nemesis is finally finished, and I've started planning my next one. This story means a lot to me and it's gotten me through quite a lot over the years, so I'd appreciate any feedback. If you have read this, then I'm very grateful to you, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have. Hopefully, I'll be back soon with my next fic.

- SilverInk