A/N: The acronym spray painted on the wall--South African Military Health Service
Nora followed the staff member through the Franklin house, the detective appraising the decor. Most of it opposite to her tastes. She paused in front of a large oil painting, the painting one of her favorites. She had first been introduced to it in a college art appreciation class. The professor had given her a small reprint at the end of the semester and the picture had traveled with the blonde, hanging in every place she lived.
"It's the original."
Nora spun, facing Mrs. Franklin.
"That is what you were just thinking. Most of the pieces in the house are originals, not reproductions. Not that you would have known, or understood, the difference."
Nora counted to ten, trying not to be offended by the fact the woman had made statements rather than questions as if she knew what Nora would think. "Actually, this is a favorite of mine. I was thinking about how the image reflects the darkness of the human soul, the artist's statement of society at the time."
Tamarkia gave a reluctant nod of respect, a slight harrumph accompanying the gesture. "People usually hate this piece. They make the mistake of assuming it was done merely to shock viewers and to gather attention. They do not understand the artist was crying for help when he created this."
"I understand a lot of things Mrs. Franklin."
"Really? People must underestimate you all the time."
Nora's nose wrinkled to the side, no other movement evident as she continued to count.
"I have to rearrange Philip's study. He's outgrown it once again. Do your little police check of the property in a pithy attempt to make me feel safe and secure. Of course I have no true faith in the department's ability but perhaps you can redeem yourself. Join me in the study when finished." She pivoted on her toes, her heels clicking over the marble flooring as she strode off, leaving a flummoxed Nora behind.
Clenching and unclenching her fists a few times, Nora finally moved, taking the opposite direction Tamarkia had gone. "They do understand me; those that matter." She gave another huff and stomped out.
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She'd gotten lost, sort of, in a disoriented, 'where the hell am I', way. The grounds and house, well mansion, were larger than Nora had initially estimated. She had been in no hurry to find the mistress of the manor, the detective happy to stroll around on her own' at least her blood pressure was staying low. After her initial walk outside, she'd stopped by the kitchen, using the excuse of wanting a cup of coffee to talk to the kitchen staff a bit, trying to find out if anyone had heard of SANDF or SAMHS or if the number 1998 meant anything. She and Nikki had been trying to find a connection between those items and the Franklins as that was the "message" spray painted across the Franklin's wall during the break-in.
Unfortunately, no one knew what those letters and number might mean, and the coffee had been unappetizing as well, Nora finishing most of her cup only because she hoped the shot of caffeine might give her a boost to survive this torture. A call to Dan as to when replacements might arrive had produced only a vague, "Not yet."
So, Nora was now standing at the end of a hallway, having expected to find Tamarkia, instead finding a very desolate wing of the Franklin house.
"Damn it. I thought this was the way to the study." Nora's exclamation loud as she gave voice to her frustration. The only productive item to come from her recent exploration and current lost state was the thought that whomever had broken in must have known what they were doing and had a good idea of the layout. This thought poked at Nora however as that conclusion was at odds with the break-in yesterday. That person had obviously not known what they were doing, having tripped up and hesitated as Nora was chasing them.
The more she thought about the sequence of events, the more she suspected the motivations of the intruder. "Almost as if they were... trying to draw attention to themselves..." This thought hit Nora like a bolt out of the blue, the detective plucking at her lower lip as she mulled this over. "Why would you do that? Unless... maybe they were..." She shook her head, laughing. "That's just crazy Nora. Thinking they were a distraction. What would they be distracting from?"
Her eyes narrowed as she entertained that thought, her mind zooming through links and connections, putting pieces in place. "Perhaps once again we were not told the whole story." She spun and took off down the hall, heading back to the stairs she had come up. "Philip outgrew his study... my ass he did. Go on a little walk around and thus stay away from what I am doing..."
She reached the main landing, "Hey, yo, anyone, hey..." her voice was loud, hoping to draw attention. A smile lit her face as a housekeeper appeared. "Where is Philip Franklin's 'old' study?"
The housekeeper was silent.
Nora sighed, hating to do this. "I know she is cleaning up a mess. I know what happened to the study." She pulled out her badge. "Show me."
The woman nodded and hurried off, Nora keeping to the woman's heels. The housekeeper took a few turns and then pointed down the hall. Nora waved the woman off, "I got it from here." The staff member nodded, fleeing as she was dismissed.
Nora did not bother to knock, barging straight in, the door slamming into someone, a yell and then thud filling the air as Nora stepped inside the room. She raised a hand to guard her face as a set of folders came flying at her, the contents scattering and raining down on Tamarkia Franklin as the woman had been knocked to the floor.
"You clumsy, stupid lout." Tamarkia screamed.
Nora's face twisted into a grimace as she watched the woman trying to scoop up the mess. "Sorry, I thought I heard something and was concerned for your safety." The lie flowed perfectly from Nora.
"That does not dismiss your egregious action. Incompetence is no excuse. Perhaps it suffices in your home and is tolerated by your coworkers, but how anyone can stand this is unthinkable. There is no tolerance here for idiots."
Trying not to let the words get to her, Nora knelt, trying to get a good look at the papers. With a quick dart, she snatched up a couple of papers, having spied the mysterious word, SANDF at the top.
"What is SANDF?" Nora asked, leaning forward so she could look Tamarkia in the eyes.
The woman winced and tried to grab the sheets from Nora. The detective let a smug expression fill her face as she deftly held the papers back, out of Tamarkia's reach, denying what the woman sought.
"A failed business from many years ago."
The word years rang like a bell, another piece clicking. "Maybe from say 1998?" She looked at the papers, trying to find more, although she was unable to get a good read as she kept moving them around to stay away from Mrs. Franklin as the woman continued to try and wrest the papers from Nora.
"Why was it graffitied all over your wall?" Nora tried another question as the businesswoman did not answer the first. The blonde could not resist actually dangling the paper like a prize and then yanking it back when the other tried to retrieve it.
"Because, we had to let go a lot of staff when it folded. I guess some hold a grudge." Lunging, she managed to tear half of the papers from Nora's grasp. Grumbling that she did not retrieve them all, she pushed to her feet, scurrying across the room, shoving the papers in a shredder.
"Damn," Nora started to get up, but stumbled back to the floor as her foot skidded across the floor. She looked down, seeing she had stepped on a photo, the slick material denying her traction. Stuffing the remaining paper she had in her back pocket, she pushed up, taking the photo with her. On her feet, Nora's motions stilled, the detective getting a good look, finally, at the study. The room was disheveled, not just from the dropped folders, but other surfaces were covered in piles of paper. The furniture and other items all askew and at odds from the precise way the rest of the house was laid out. But it was not the chaotic state of the room that caught Nora's attention; it was the spray painted reference on the far wall.
Deuteronomy 32:35
"Vengeance is mine. So who is doing the retribution dirty work..." Nora muttered.
Tamarkia came to stand beside Nora, "You know what that means?"
The blonde continued to work over the thought she was chasing, working to pull up old memories and half-listened to Sunday lessons. "Could have used a few verses, why not go simple with Hebrews 10?" She muttered, ignoring the questions Tamarkia continued to throw at the detective. "God, I hate to say momma was right and I should have paid more attention." The thought pried a wry chuckle from Nora's lips. She pulled her focus back to the woman beside her. "This is a little more than a grudge. Is SANDF associated with the church?"
The flinch was so subtle, most would have missed it, but Nora had spent a long time questioning suspects. Honing her observation skills and learning the nuances of the unspoken language the body conversed in, often subconsciously and unintended, those were the signs Nora strove to find and illuminate. "No, not unless the South African military has been taking up a side dalliance." The woman was not fast enough to snag the photo from Nora as the detective put her hands behind her back, making sure the photo would not meet the same fate as the other papers.
"This happened last night?"
Seeing the photo was unobtainable, for now, Mrs. Franklin changed her tactic and went to the intercom unit on the wall. "Silvia, Detective Delaney and I would like some coffee."
"Yes ma'am."
As the order was being given, Nora looked at the photo, her lips puckering, the detective sure this had happened last night. That fit with her other observations about the intruder. The photo contained Mr. and Mrs. Franklin standing in front of a number of green and brown camouflaged boxes, a few children with them and a priest. She continued staring at the photo as there was something... familiar about it. Something nagging at the back of Nora's mind, trying to push its way to the forefront. The blonde rubbed at her forehead, a flare of a pain stabbing at her temple, followed by a slight tensing of her stomach. Feeling very weary all of a sudden, she moved to lean against the desk, looking from the photo to the wall.
Distracted, Nora did not realize Tamarkia had approached, coffee cup in hand, "Here you go," she pressed the cup in Nora's free hand. As the detective tried to keep it from spilling on her, Mrs. Franklin plucked the photo out of Nora's hand.
Dismayed, Nora watched as it joined the other documents in the shredder. "There, now Philip will be pleased everything is tidy."
"Bitch."
"I do what I have to, to survive. You know about that Detective, yes?"
Nora said nothing, she sniffed at the coffee and made a face. "You could at least serve something a little more appetizing. This smells as bad as the stuff I had earlier." She put the coffee cup down. "I think I better just do my little patrol thing until my relief comes, I might say something that you would really regret."
Tamarkia said nothing, her head held high as Nora left. She sniffed at the coffee and made a face dumping it back in the serving pot as she looked back at the wall. A flash of anger swept over her face, her arm drawing back, the cup smashing against the vandalized wall. "Damn you, whomever you are, you'll not win. I'm better and stronger..." Her defiance leaked away then as she looked around the study. "I think I am done for the day." With that, she followed the path Nora had taken a few moments ago, shutting the door behind her, wishing it could be as easy to walk away from everything else.
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The priest sat straight up in bed, his body shaking, the heat radiating off of him as his body and mind burned from the nightmare as well as the sickness he was fighting. Father Tim looked at the prescription bottle on the nightstand, reaching past it to a journal. He staggered out of bed to his small desk, turning on the lamp, the light just enough. He always kept the blinds drawn during the day. He had been at the hospitals the last few nights, his turn to minister to those ailing and needing solace or other comfort from the church.
Settling at the desk, he opened the journal, some old, worn photos slipping to the table. The photos contained images of children. Some happy and playing, military trucks in the background. Other photos showing rows of cots, the children lying still, listless, dying. One photo had been clipped from a newspaper, a press release dated June, 1998 about a partnership between a local medical supplier and the SAMHS. The last photo an image of Father Tim shaking Philip Franklin's hand as they stood in front of boxes, children posed around the two men. His hand shaking, he picked up the latest addition. A brief story clipped early in the day from the local paper, complete with photos, about the recent string of break-ins at the Franklin's warehouses as well as the explosion.
Father Tim took in a deep breath as the face from his nightmares stared at him from the pictures.
He moved the photos to the side, clearing the memories from his mind so he could focus on the nightmare, he knew he needed to record the vision he had just experienced.
I wonder if this is how John was given his holy divination as the scripture flowed through him. I lack the prose and grace of Saint John, but I still will bear testament as Your lowly subject and loyal follower.
I have dreamt of her again, the temptress, the seducer, the liar. She is here, in this city, I fear for all. She is burning all she touches, just as she did so long ago when we first met. The taint is spreading through the city.
I saw your messengers, the three, riding on their steeds, the fourth horse was again riderless. I understand now what that sign means. You are calling me my Lord, and I will come. I will serve. I have seen your message, there is no doubt. They poisoned your children. An eye for an eye. I will deliver to them the same. That is Your Will.
There was a new element in the dreams, a brave golden warrior, yet one who foolishly places her allegiance with the seducer. She was full of fire and I wish we had met in another time or she had not been blinded by sin. She too will be stopped.
I will not be swayed, I will stay true. Any who dwell with those without faith will taste your vengeance. I have delivered the plague to their house. It has begun to infect them just as what they sent to the village so long ago decimated Your children.
I must go now, it is time to finish what Your hand began. To make certain the plague is passed to all and they do not escape.
Amen