Okay, the story continues. Again, the whole Syndicate and Council origins are going to be explained, but only as the story continues. I try not to be too vague, but everything will make sense in time, I promise! Anyways, on with the story. Again, please send reviews and comments. I try to be accurate and grammar-efficient, but I know I miss things. Alas, I'm merely human. But please, tell me how you like it. Let me know if there's anything you'd like me to improve on and so forth. Please! Hope ya enjoy!

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Chapter 3

Ashe had seated herself in the comfortable booth, dimly lit with a small hanging lamp. She ordered a cuba libre from the bar and had it been delivered pretty quickly. Sitting back as she traced the rim of the highball glass, she listened as the band continued in playing some more Christmas melodies. She had always found the tunes rather soothing.

A hint of movement advancing towards her caught her attention, and Ashe looked up to see Captain Will Englehorn standing before her, his hat in hand. Staring into his icy gaze, she couldn't help but keep a smile of amusement on her face.

"You were following me. Care to explain?" he asked after a moment of silence. She noted that he seemed tired, maybe even irritated.

"Have a seat," she offered politely. "You look like you've been up for nearly three weeks straight."

The offer was tempting, Will would admit. He supposed he probably looked as tired as he felt. Still, he couldn't help but hesitate.

"I'd rather not," he said. "I need to get back to my ship. It's best if I don't linger too long."

Ashe held her smile.

"Relax," she said. "This won't take long. Besides, I got places to be too. Just take a seat, have a drink. This won't take more than fifteen minutes, tops."

Waiting another minute before finally deciding, the Captain took a seat opposite of her. Joe came by, asking if they needed anything before pouring Will another shot of whiskey as Ashe lit a cigarette. Englehorn reached for his own but realized he had smoked his last one before he had entered the bar.

Once Joe left the table, Ashe noticed Will's small search. She offered him one of her own instead.

Will looked at the cigarette. It was a Kretek, the same brand as his. Accepting the cigarette and lighting it with his own match, he took into account that at least this stranger had good taste.

They sat staring at each other for one other moment of silence. The Captain, awaiting an explanation, had his own eyes fixated on hers. They were a dark hazel hue, like dark chocolate speckled with flakes of caramel and rimmed with light jade. Such strange eyes.

Finally, it was she who spoke first.

"Sorry about the whole…"spying" thing," she said. "I've been told my people skills are considerably rusty."

Taking a sip of his whiskey, Will asked, "Who are you?"

"No one of importance. But for the sake of introductions, my friends call me Ashe," she replied simply.

The Captain blinked, "Ashe….what, no surname?"

She shook her head, "Don't worry about it. The pronunciation is ridiculously tedious."

He seemed to accept that, since he didn't push further.

"Now, as for the explanation," she continued. "I'm here to make a proposition."

Will eyed her suspiciously, "I get the feeling that this has something to with the ape."

Ashe nodded.

"Very perceptive," she said. "But you gotta figure, it's a twenty-five foot ape from a prehistoric island teeming with dinosaurs and cannibals. It's an interesting topic, to say the least."

Rubbing his eyes wearily, "I figured that's what this was about."

Sighing as he took another hit from his cigarette, he shrugged, "Well I'm probably the last one you should come to. It's Denham's problem now."

"Give it a day, maybe two," Ashe stated, "and he's gonna be the city's problem."

"So?" Will scoffed. "If it isn't near my boat, it's no longer my concern."

"You think that deadbeat, Denham, is going to be the only one screwed when this hits the fan?"

Englehorn didn't give a reply.

"When bad things happen," she continued, "people don't just want answers. They want to blame others, and give the rate of mass hysteria with something this gargantuan, chances are they aren't going to be on anyone involved."

Another silence drifted between them, but it was broken once more by Ashe.

"How the hell did you even get the damn map?" she asked in a confounded tone. She seemed sincerely surprised.

Englehorn returned the question with a perplexed expression.

"Precisely, how do you know about that?" he fired back.

Now it was Ashe's turn to hesitate. She took a sip from her glass.

"The same way I know that it was no accident you wound up on that island," she sighed.

Studying her carefully, Will leaned in closer.

"Who are you…really?" he asked, his eyes locked on hers.

She returned the gaze without blinking.

"The one person you can trust," she said. He didn't say anything in return, so she continued.

"That ape can't stay in the city," she said, feeling the warmth of the bar and removing her gloves and scarf. "I mean…he could….but considering the city probably won't fund "Ape Crossing" signs on every street corner, than it's a safe bet to say that he would probably cause a few traffic jams. More than there are now, anyways."

Englehorn chuckled. She had a sarcastic streak in her tone, which he found amusing. Perhaps it was just part of her charm.

"And what do you propose to do?" he asked. But when he finished his sentence, the answer he assumed she would give popped into his mind. It took a minute to realize what she was truly proposing.

"No!" he growled before she could reply. "I'm not handling that damned thing anymore."

"You brought it here didn't you?" she smirked. "Why not simply…relocate him elsewhere?"

"Against my better judgment, yes, "he replied. "I did. In light of the fact that Denham's picture was a debacle, it was the only way to ensure a paycheck for my men."

"If money's the most important factor, believe me you and you're men will be more than compensated."

Will laughed, shaking his head, "Denham's payment has more than benefitted me and the crew. Believe me when I say, there is nothing in heaven nor hell that would persuade me to do anything with that ape than put it down."

Ashe simply sighed. Well, he was a determined sailor if there ever was one.

"I figured that you would pick the "go-to-hell" answer, but I guess that works too," she said. "But you gotta understand, Englehorn. When Kong gets loose, and I emphasize the "when" in that sentence rather than an "if", there will be hell to pay. And chances are, Denham won't be the only one that suffers lawsuits, fines, and possibly prison time. You will be added onto that list as an accessory."

Leaning back in his chair, a grim expression appeared on Englehorn's face. He could see that she knew what she was talking about.

"Even if I agreed to this," he said, "Denham never would. That ape is the only thing he has. You wouldn't get him to part with it for all the money in the world."

"Probably not," Ashe agreed. "But he really has little say in it. So…are you in?"

"I'm not going anywhere near that godforsaken island," he said finally. "Not for all the money in the world."

Ashe smiled, "You're in luck. A trip to Skull Island was not on the agenda. I've found it a rather lousy vacation spot anyways. Too much rain."

From his confused expression, she had no doubt that it was better to explain from the beginning.

"Look, I was sent to you by Jamison Cunningham, "she said," an egotistical son of a…well…a guy with too much time and money on his hands. He wants to hire you to transport Kong from New York City to a preserve he created on a secluded island on the coast of Africa."

Taking a few seconds to ponder her proposal, Englehorn laughed and rose to his feet and putting his hat back on.

"Tempting offer, Miss Ashe," he said. "But I wash my hands of this madness. "

He started to walk away, but in a flash Ashe had risen from her seat and grabbed his arm. She had moved so fast and quiet that he didn't even realize she had rose so quickly.

"Will, I understand you don't want any part of this," she said, her sincerity evident in her soft voice. "And I can assure you that I relate. But I would appreciate it if you at least think about it. Give it a day, maybe two, and call me at this number when you change your mind."

She placed a folded napkin his palm, keeping her gaze on his.

"Keep an eye on the news," she said. He didn't say anything before turning and walking away. His mind was focusing so hard on leaving that he wasn't even paying attention when he bumped into an old man on his way to the bar.

"Sorry," he said, continuing his walk to the door. His eyes glanced back to see Ashe, who in turn waved goodbye. He exited the Crow's Nest without any sign of acknowledgement, and he couldn't help but leave without carrying a few ounces of dread about the days to come.

****

Ashe watched Will Englehorn left the bar, and Ashe sat back down. She looked up to see the old man who he had bumped into walking over to her table. He was wearing a worn wool coat, a plaid scarf and a trilby hat, but she recognized him the moment he had walked into the bar.

"How did it go?" he asked, his accent belonging unmistakably to an Englishman.

"You know, you really should consider approaching people yourself," she snapped irritably. "I'm not a carrier pigeon!"

Cunningham smiled, "I had a feeling your approach would prove more successful."

Ashe rolled her eyes, "I detect a hint of sexism in that remark."

He laughed, "It's more along the lines of a compliment, but by all means take it as you wish. When will he call?"

Finishing off her cigarette, she smothered what was left of it in the ashtray.

"Well, if you're theory proves correct, tomorrow most likely," she answered, leaning back once more. Her gaze wandered off distantly for a few moments. Cunningham noticed.

"Something on your mind?" he asked curiously.

She was quiet for a moment, then looked at him.

"Why are you doing this?" Ashe asked. He cocked his head to the side, confused. "I mean, with the ape and all. Why do you care what happens to it? I mean…that's hardly our biggest problem in the grand scheme of things. Truthfully it's the last thing we need to worry about."

He paused for a moment to consider the question before responding.

"Those who have the capability are given responsibility to help when necessary," he answered. "And now's a pretty good time to help."

"Still…it seems out of character…"

"People change," he said.

Ashe smirked, "Change….people never really change. Technology...religion...that stuff changes. But people…no, people stay the same."

Cunningham gave a heavy sigh, "You lost faith in humanity, Ashelia?"

Rising from her seat as she finished her drink, she smiled lightly.

"No, I don't have a problem with humanity as a whole….it's just people I don't like."

Figuring she wasn't going to get much else out of him, Ashe decided it was best to go ahead and leave. It had been a long day and a nice evening of relaxing and painting was just what she needed.

Cunningham watched her as she wrapped her scarf around her neck and put back on her gloves.

"Lovely singing by the way," he commented. "Calling it an evening?"

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" she retorted. "This has been one hell of a day."

Without saying another word, Ashe paid her tab at the counter, bidding Joe farewell and waving goodbye to Hound-dog before walking out the door into the night. The air had gotten chillier since she had entered the bar earlier. A strong breeze blew through the air, causing Ashe to shudder and wrap her coat a bit more tightly around her as she began to walk down the street on her way home. For some reason, she couldn't get that tune out of her head. Maybe singing it onstage was simply enough to get stuck over and over in her mind.

She didn't know what Cunningham was planning entirely. Why he even wanted to bother with the ape was beyond her. But she knew that sooner or later they would have to return to "Skull Island". They had business there that couldn't go unsettled. Not anymore.

"I take it the man you were sitting with was the egotistical Jamison Cunningham?" a stern voice echoed along the seemingly empty street. It nearly startled Ashe. She turned, seeing Will Englehorn standing before her, his hands in his pocket. Had he been waiting on her? What for?

"Yeah, that's the guy," she said coolly. "Don't feel bad if he didn't say 'hello'. He has worst people skills than myself. "

A slight pause came between them.

"So…" she started, breaking the silence. "Did you forget something in the bar?"

"I was almost back to my ship when I realized that you never really gave a straight answer to any of the questions," he stated. Ashe thought about it for a minute and realized..yeah…that was pretty true.

"You never told me how you knew about the map…why your employer even cares about all this…" he continued. He stopped for a moment, as if considering how to phrase the next question. "What do you know about that island?"

Ashe stood there, a little surprised at his sudden curiosity. She wasn't really sure what to say. She gave a light laugh.

"You were really halfway to your ship before realizing I never directly answered any of your questions?" she asked amused.

But his expression showed he was anything but amused and was enough to sober her up. She sighed, folding her arms across her chest.

"Okay, honestly, there's not much I can tell you….because I'm not entirely in the loop," she said. "And I'm not complaining, because in my line of work…ignorance is rather bliss, hell it's complete ecstasy when confronted when the cold hard truth."

Englehorn didn't say anything, and so she continued.

"As far as Skull Island is concerned, there's a lot more to it than meets the eye," she explained. She gave another pause, trying to find the right words. "And if you decide not to take this job because you are honestly sick and tired of all the bullshit, then I respect that. And I mean that sincerely. But if you're not going to do it because you're too afraid, then I am going to do you a big favor and walk away forever. And you will never see nor hear from me. Because this is bigger than that ape. Bigger than you. Bigger than me. And I won't risk involving you and your men if you can't handle what's out there….what's really out there."

"What the hell do you mean? You're not making any sense!" he said exasperated.

Rolling her eyes, Ashe mumbled, "Yeah, story of my life…"

Waiting a moment to collect herself from her rant, she took a deep breath.

"Look," she said finally. "Take the job. Don't take the job. It's up to you. But time is somewhat of a large factor. If you decide you agree, I will answer all…well…most of your questions without hesitation. I give you my word."

Ashe turned and started walking away, but she stopped and looked back for a moment.

"Just take my advice…the less you know, the better."

For a moment they just stood there, looking at each other unmoving. His gaze had captivated her own once again. He could tell in her eyes she was sincere in everything she had said. He didn't know why, but he trusted her. Against his better judgment.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as he rubbed them tiredly. He opened them, ready to say something else but before he knew it, she was gone. He looked in every direction, but she had completely disappeared.

How the hell does she do that?

***

Cunningham remained in the booth, pulling out his old pipe and began smoking. He leaned back in his seat, removing his hat. In appearance, he believed he looked older than what he was. He was only fifty-six, but at times he felt eighty. His once black hair was now mostly white speckled with grey and his face was blanketed with wrinkles. Pale green eyes revealed he had seen much in his life, and done even more.

Everyone had ghosts in their closets. Some had the rotten luck to have them leave the closet and follow them wherever they went. Cunningham had a feeling he was to be one of those cursed individuals. He wouldn't deny that he had made some bad choices in his life. But it was always out of a sense of duty, or at least he told himself that.

He hoped that the decisions made were really for the better. It may have been a false hope, but it was better than no hope.

He ordered a scotch from the bar, taking a moment to consider what was to come. Ashelia was right in that Kong was the least of their concerns. Especially with the Syndicate. God, how he dreaded the coming days. He prayed they would stay buried, but monsters like them don't die easily. And if they find Skull Island, then there was little the Council or even Ashelia could do to prevent the inevitable disaster.