A NUMBERS GAME, Chapter 2

Rain splattered the cracked and chipped windshield, though calling it rain was perhaps a stretch, the consistency of the precipitation nearer to an insistent drizzle than a downpour. Even so, on the highway the rickety wipers were challenged to sweep the pocked glass clear - Elsie fervently hoped the vulcanized rubber strips would last the trip.

Overhead loomed an unbroken expanse of ashen skies, and while they shielded the two women from the worst of the late July sun, the pervasive humidity was making a point of underlining the car's lack of air conditioning. The necessity of driving with the top up and windows shut did nothing to ameliorate the situation.

But such inconveniences were only inconsequential gnats to the blonde - she was at Lara's side, embarked upon a quest!

She'd been stunned by the brunette's appearance at the airport: sporting a white buttoned shirt overlaid with charcoal jacket and matching skirt, Lara looked every bit the consummate professional. Even her usually barely controlled chestnut mane had been tamed for the occasion.

Hell, she was even wearing heels, of all things - which convinced Elsie just how desperate the brunette was to get her hands on the Manuscript.

Elsie had not voiced it, but she knew the likelihood of two unknown young women marching straight into Yale to see the priceless artefact would almost certainly end in failure - no matter how sharply dressed they might be.

Lara seemed to sense it, as well - either that, or her atypical attire was causing her to fidget uncomfortably in the passenger seat.

The brunette stole yet another glance at the speedometer.

Elsie huffed. Will you stop...?

"Yale isn't exactly a traveling circus, you know," said the blonde in response. "It'll still be there."

The archaeologist's hands writhed in her lap. "Of course, it's just that...can you go at least a little faster?"

Elsie sighed. "No, I can't."

The brunette leaned over and blatantly ogled the gauge cluster. "Seriously, Elsie, we're going ten under the speed limit!"

"I can't go any faster!" insisted the blonde.

A large truck in the passing lane threw up a huge spray that the wipers struggled to cope with.

"Now we've got bloody timber lorries overtaking us -"

"It's not a race!"

"Look, I'll pay for the bleeding tickets, if that's what's worrying you -"

"Oh, for - look, we have forty six horsepower and the aerodynamics of a brick, okay? I'm pushing my foot through the floor. We're at flank speed. Scotty himself couldn't squeeze any more out of her."

The brunette's expression was one of shock. "You can't be serious!?"

"You heard me," returned the American sharply. "That's all there is."

"Bloody hell, Elsie!" exploded the archaeologist. "You couldn't have mentioned that earlier?"

The blonde shot her passenger an irritated look. "What difference would it have made?"

"Well for one, we could've rented a real car instead of being stuck in this sodding relic!"

"Oh, that's it!"

Elsie pitched the wheel to the right, swerving onto the highway's gravelled shoulder. She slammed the brakes, skidding to a stop just feet from the edge of one of the many expansive cornfields that lined New England's highways. Lara lurched forward and slapped the dashboard before flopping back into her seat.

"What are you doing?" exclaimed the brunette. "Get moving!"

Elsie glared at the Englishwoman and twisted the ignition key for emphasis.

The engine shuddered momentarily before shutting down.

"We're not going anywhere," proclaimed the blonde. "Until you calm down. I'm not going to spend the next three hours with a ranting side-seat driver."

Lara's eyes widened. "Elsie, this isn't the time!"

"Yeah, well you're making it the time!" shot back the American. "You need to back off!"

The archaeologist's wide-eyed gaze darted to the ignition.

Elsie quickly jerked the key from its slot and flipped the keychain to her left hand, away from the brunette.

"What the fuck, Lara? Are you going to knock me out and take off with me in the back seat?"

The notion seemed to shake the Englishwoman back to her senses.

"N-no...no, of course not," stammered Lara. "I wouldn't do that."

Elsie eyed her friend warily. "I'm not so sure...you're kind of scaring me right now..."

Lara blinked and swallowed, the near-crazed look in her eyes replaced by one of muted embarrassment. "I...I'm sorry..."

"You're obsessing," stated the blonde.

Lara turned her gaze to the rivulets slowly tricking down the windshield.

"With reason, Elsie," said the Englishwoman softly. "If only you knew what was at stake..."

"Well tell me, then!" pleaded the American. "We've got another three hours before we even get to New Haven, I don't want to spend all that time in the dark."

"I..."

"It's about those Trinity people, isn't it?"

The brunette's shoulders sagged. She nodded wearily.

"The book...has nothing to do with botany," affirmed the archaeologist.

"We'd covered that already," said Elsie. "Throw me a fucking bone, Lara."

The brunette made her decision and turned to her friend.

"I've...come into some information," began the Englishwoman, "That points to the Manuscript having been written in the early fifteenth century -"

"Nothing new there."

"- by a bishop of Florence."

Elsie blinked.

"Oh."

"Yes..."

"Do you...do you have a name?"

Lara shook her head.

"I've narrowed the list of possibilities to four," said the brunette. "But it's not such much who wrote it as to what he wrote, Elsie..."

"Or commissioned to have it written," amended the blonde. "I doubt a bishop would've penned over two hundred pages himself."

"I think that in this case, he would have," returned the archaeologist. "The contents are altogether too explosive for him to have entrusted it to a common scribe. It would also explain the poor quality of the illustrations -"

"You keep saying explosive," interjected the American. "Why?"

Lara hesitated.

"Don't stop now!" implored Elsie.

The brunette bit her lower lip.

"Once you know this...you can never unknow it."

Elsie ignored the warning.

"For fuck's sake, just tell me already!"

The Englishwoman's gaze faltered.

"Hey, come on," said the blonde as she stroked the brunette's shoulder soothingly. "Who's gonna know? It's just the two of us out here..."

Lara looked at her.

"If they even suspected..."

"They won't," countered the blonde. "Right now those Trinity people think you're in London. Hell, Doppie managed to fool even me..."

That elicited a slight twitch at the corner of the Englishwoman's mouth - by now Sam was taking the doppelgänger out on the town, ensuring the temporary brunette would be as conspicuous as possible.

Lara sighed. "Fair enough..."

She glanced down the highway behind them and drew in a deep breath.

"I believe that Trinity...has ties to the Vatican."

Elsie's eyebrows shot up.

"Whoa...you weren't kidding about explosive..."

"Thus the need for caution, Elsie."

"Um...just how high do these ties go? All the way?"

Lara shook her head. "I don't think so...from what I've gleaned they appear to be a dissatisfied faction headed by a trio of Cardinals."

"Ah. Hence, 'Trinity'?"

"Either that, or a reference to Scripture," agreed the brunette. "This bishop, he was a member...but he began to have misgivings."

Lara clamped her hand across Elsie's wrist.

"He turned against them, Elsie. And documented it. That's where the Manuscript comes in."

The American suddenly understood the book's importance.

"That's why he created that writing system, then? So that if anyone found his book he wouldn't get on their hit list for ratting on them."

Lara nodded.

"I believe he intended for the Manuscript to be deciphered after his death," continued the archaeologist. "He wrote the cipher that would crack it with the intention that it would be sent along with the book to a third party. Only...it appears neither did."

"Which third party?"

"I don't know," admitted the brunette. "I've only had access to a few pages online...I'm hoping the book will say."

She leaned close.

"But I'm convinced he intended to expose Trinity, Elsie, to bring them out of the shadows. They can't operate in the light. Once their existence becomes known to the outside world...that's it. They're finished."

"So...seems the Illuminati are alive and well," postulated the American.

"I need that book, Elsie," stated the archaeologist, the resolve clear in her voice.

The blonde slouched back in her seat. Things were more serious than she'd even allowed herself to imagine.

"Shit..."

Lara frowned. "What's wrong?"

Elsie drummed her fingers against the bottom of the steering wheel. "I just didn't realize how much was riding on this. Taking out an organization of violent zealots..."

"I'll never accomplish anything so long as they exist," clarified the brunette. "I'm either one step ahead of them or they ahead of me. So far I've been able to deny them the artifacts they seek, but...the reverse is also true."

The Englishwoman pressed on, her voice taking on a more somber note.

"This is bigger than me, Elsie. These people...they kill anyone who stands in their way, or who discovers anything about them. Taking out their operatives does nothing, they seem to have an inexhaustible supply. I've got to expose them."

Elsie looked at her friend.

"And...if you don't?"

Lara looked at her quizzically.

"What do you mean?"

"Lara, you have to understand there's a good chance - a very good chance - we're not going to get to see that book."

"That's not an option for me," returned the brunette firmly.

"Like it or not, you may have to accept it," countered the blonde. "If they say no, then -"

"I either get a look at that book," said the archaeologist grimly, "Or I'm taking it."

Elsie's eyes swelled into saucers. "Don't even think it!"

"I will."

"Lara, you'll never get away with it!" countered the American. "You'll go to jail, for fuck's sake!"

"I've gotten past heavy security before...this will be no different."

Elsie exploded.

"I think it's a little different - what are you going to do, you gonna go Rambo on Yale?!"

Grey and brown eyes locked. Lara's jaw clenched.

Only the light patter of rain on the car's canvas top marred the tense silence.

Elsie swallowed nervously. So much now hung in the balance.

She had to reach her friend - pull her away from the obsessed archaeologist she happened to share a body with. Keep her from destroying herself.

She reached out and trailed a finger down the brunette's sleeve.

"For one thing, you're hardly dressed for it..."

Lara's mouth opened slightly.

Elsie tilted her head slightly to one side and smiled.

"Let me handle this, 'kay? I can be very persuasive when I have to be."

The Englishwoman's eyes welled up.

Elsie bit her lip. "Oh, girl..."

The archaeologist lurched forward and wrapped her arms around the blonde.

"Gods, I love you so much," cried the brunette.

"Love you right back, girl," cooed the American, affectionately stroking her friend's nape.

"I just - I don't -"

"Shhh."

Elsie maintained the embrace, waiting patiently as the shaking in the brunette's shoulders slowly subsided.

Lara pulled back slightly, pressing her forehead to the blonde's.

"I need this, Elsie," she choked. "I have to stop them...no matter the cost to myself..."

The American gently cupped the Englishwoman's cheek.

"Girl, you know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you..."

The brunette squeezed her eyes shut and nodded slightly, her forehead rubbing against her companion's.

"...but I'll be damned if I let you throw your life away. If you try and force the issue this will become your Kobayashi Maru."

The archaeologist drew in a shuddering breath.

Elsie drew back and reached behind her seat.

"Look, I brought something that might help..."

Grasping the briefcase she normally used for Gallery business, she rotated the combination dials and opened the latch.

"This is the Ace up my sleeve," explained the American as she pulled out an ornate leather folder and handed it to the archaeologist. "So to speak."

Lara wiped her eyes as she opened the docket.

She slowly scanned the gold-embossed document within. " 'Distinguished Patron of the Paddington Gallery'...I'm not sure I follow...?"

"It's something we give to important partners," explained the blonde. "It gives the recipient significant...well, perks. They get exclusive access to the entire collection, including their choice of loaned items, and that's just to start. It's very exclusive...only ten are ever in circulation at any given time."

Lara's gaze shifted down the document. "This one's made out to Yale University..."

Elsie nodded. "And now there are eleven."

The brunette looked up.

"How'd you get this?"

The blonde smiled. "I figured we might need a bargaining chip, so I went into work last night and printed it up. The Gallery does have significant pull in the industry, so..."

Lara's shoulders sagged. "Elsie...thank you so much for this."

"Well, it's for a good cause, right?"

The Englishwoman gazed at the certificate. "Eleven...how on Earth did you get Fletcher to agree to this without explaining the reason behind it?"

"Er..."

Lara's head shot up.

The blonde shrugged sheepishly. "He, uh...doesn't know."

Lara's eyes widened. "But...this has his signature..."

"Yeah...sure looks like it, huh? Fountain pen and everything."

Lara clasped her hand across her mouth.

"Oh, Elsie, no!"

"He'll honor it," explained the American quickly. "He will. He won't want to risk embarrassment to the Gallery, don't worry."

"But what about you? What's this going to...will you be sacked for this?"

Elsie shrugged again.

"Doesn't matter. If I'm not, then I'll quit. There's no way I could ever face Nathan after pulling something like this."

Lara closed the docket and handed it back to the blonde. "No. I can't let you do this."

"Lara, believe me, we'll need it and more," replied the American as she slipped the folder back into the briefcase. "They don't even know we're coming. If we're lucky this might just cover the price of admission for a meeting with the curator, never mind getting to the Manuscript!"

The brunette looked aghast.

"Look, it's like you said," continued the blonde as she returned the case behind her seat. "This is bigger than either of us, right? We'll be saving lives, right?"

The archaeologist rubbed her arm uncomfortably. "I just...I'd much rather you didn't have to sacrifice your career."

Elsie smiled sadly.

"Don't worry about me," assured the blonde softly. "There are other jobs out there.

I'll find something."

She held an imaginary cell phone next to her ear and modulated her normally airy voice into a deep, gruff tone: "I have a very particular set of skills..."

"Elsie -"

"Look, it sure as hell beats you rotting in jail!" stated the American in exasperation. "So that's the plan and if you disagree I'm going to throw these keys into the goddamned cornfield, capiche?"

Lara's shocked eyes drifted from the clasped keys back to her companion's face.

"So now who's forcing the issue?"

"Yeah, well, I'm doing it to prevent someone I love from destroying herself," stated the blonde.

She opened the driver's side door a few inches for emphasis.

"So we gonna do this my way," asked the American, "Or are we going to spend the next few hours crawling through a cornfield in the rain?"

She held the brunette's gaze, unblinking.

Lara seemed to realize there would be no arguing this particular point. She slouched back in her seat in capitulation.

"You have me over a proverbial barrel, young lady," growled the brunette.

Elsie ran her tongue along her upper lip and shot bedroom eyes at the archaeologist.

"Rawr. I kinda like the sound of that, actually..."

"Bugger, Elsie!" barked the Englishwoman in shock. "This isn't the time -"

"Promise me a boon?"

"Can we get going, please?"

"Do I get a boon?"

"Okay, okay!" laughed the archaeologist. "You've got your boon...happy?"

"And we're doing this my way?"

"Oh, for - yes!"

Elsie slammed the door shut. "That's better."

"Maybe it's for the best," finally sighed the archaeologist as she fingered her lapel. "Sam would never let me hear the end of it if I got mud all over her favourite suit."

"I wondered about that," said the blonde as she twisted the ignition. "Those duds don't exactly suit you..."

"Thank you."

The starter wheezed and spun noisily.

"Oh, come on..."

Elsie held the key in the start position, pressing down ever so slightly on the accelerator to coax the carburetor.

The engine continued to churn noisily but obstinately refused to catch.

The blonde groaned in frustration.

"Oh no...not now...don't you do this to me now, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SH-"

"Elsie!"

The engine suddenly sputtered to life, the familiar stones-in-a-can rattling drowning out the gentle patter of rain against the canvas top. The American let out a breath of relief.

"There...see, you just need to know how to talk to her, is all..."

Lara arched a sceptical eyebrow.

Elsie threw the shifter in gear and popped the clutch.

She looked over to the brunette and grinned. "Let's burn rubber."

"Or in this case, gently simmer it."

"Oh, hush."