Leaving the Shadow Gallery, V frowned behind the mask as the winter air hit him. There was some wind tonight. A cloud cover hung low to add a reflective brightness to the city. The ground appeared damp from a light drizzle creating further assistance for the enemy and not very good conditions for what he had in mind.
He walked in confidence in spite of all the elements against him, and handled his cape against the evening chill, but his mind wasn't there. His mind was on Evey and the warmth she afforded him.Every now and then, he had to bring himself back, shaking off the diversion of the Gallery. Have to get back to her.
As he turned the corner to Victoria Street, his footsteps echoed louder than before, but it didn't slow his pace. As nightfall occurred in the city, the streets became vacated although curfew was still hours away. He would use this emptiness to his advantage, but it was a grim sign things were turning more perilous than they used to be.
V chose Ten Downing as his first destination. He took pleasure in the thought of annihilating the underground residence and the building above, then reached into his breast pocket to secure his little explosive treasures. If the snipers positioned on the flanking rooftops by the SSU Military were equipped with motion detectors, it would make things trickier, but there was assurance of success.
The second target would take longer and he needed to disguise himself in order to distribute the explosives effectively. It would take time, but he would have it complete before the start of curfew at ten.
Then, he would go back to the Gallery and sit with Evey to reveal his plans for their future. Evey.
He stopped short and caught sight of Scotland Yard, now crawling with SSU, and English Army combatants armed with sophisticated weaponry. Hiding himself across the street, he moved in closer to have a cleaner view.
The SSU modernized M16A1 assault rifles equipped with M203 grenade launcher were standard issue at present, but for V no equivalent. The contents of his inner pocket were more threatening and internecine. Leaning his back up against the wall of the adjacent building, he took a risk of peered around a cornerstone.
Three .Five. Nine. There were many of them, but as long as his operation turned out successful, they would never know he was near; at least not until it was too late.
Exposure. That would be his detriment and the reason he would unleash his wrath from a distance.
He stretched his neck and looked down the building's width to find the round about way. If he went around a few buildings he would end up on Victoria Street once again, which was exactly where he needed to be. Not waiting until he could change his mind, he sprinted through the plaza of a large office complex.
Euphoria.
He did what gave him meaning, and for him there was no greater elixir. His breath was heavy, but not from exertion, it was the thrill.Yes. The thrill. The darkness. The game…yes…Oh… and the vantage of this viper vandalizing the vulnerable, vicious, and virulent.
V withdrew his amusement and attempted to focus on Scotland Yard in the distance. He stayed close to the buildings that lined Victoria, so as to resemble a manifestation, a specter, a vestige in the corner of an eye as he went on his way. He would stop and look at his surroundings, considering whether to reroute his journey by way of rooftop or remain on the ground.
Within moments, V passed through Parliament Square, and peered at the remains of Parliament and Big Ben. The smell of smoke and thickness still lingered with the misty drizzle that rippled in the dim night air.
V stopped under the unlit London city light and looked up, the glass housing either missing or in fragments. His gaze lowered. He went to the edge of the Thames to see the horizon and the vacant city line. It looked foreboding and unwelcome. His eyes searched for signs of life, and rested on the immanent casualty, the façade now aglow.
Animated. Waiting.
The rain came harder. The drops that hit his Jacobean hat drowned out the silence. A wind gust snapped his cape, reminded him, nudged him, and pressed him further. He obliged with more haste, wary of the time spent wandering.
He turned at last; Ten Downing appeared before him, plain and unremarkable. It remained hidden and almost unbefitting a city with such impressive architecture as the finely balanced pillars and arches of Westminster Cathedral, and the Victorian sculpting of Westminster Abbey. He covered himself in the shadow across the glistening cobblestone lane.
Keeping himself from discovery, he moved out to the open visibility of Parliament Street.
The Cenotaph close behind adorned the SSU flag of stars encircling the image of a human profile from the neck up. The eye a sunburst of light. Created to invoke fear and through it, control. For V it strengthened his resolve and made the need to retaliate even stronger.
He scanned for snipers, and only found two-- one atop a Ten Downing building, the other directly above. Their focus was the gate of 10 Downing. Two MP guards stood on either side of the gate, and surveyed the surrounding area.
Eyeing the wrought iron fence and the structure beyond, V crouched low resembling Spy vs. Spy without the counterpart. The masked grin a suitable ensemble for this frolic.
His hand went into his tunic and removed the soft cloth casing, treating it gently and placing it on the ground. He unfolded each side of the fabric and revealed the small robotic objects within. These were the most advanced explosive devices he had ever created. Using six for this structure would be enough to wipe out all of these buildings and the surrounding area.
That left six for the other target.
V lifted one between gloved thumb and forefinger, and placed it on the ground as if it were a fine piece of crystal. Reaching for the remote in his trouser pocket and standing up, he observed the armed guards; remaining patient for the proper time.
This was the most critical time of his operation. The SSU might see and hear the resonance blip on radar when the machines were in motion, so they had to reach their destination speedily.
Opportunity.
V shifted the remote at once, and watched the wheels spin and bounce over the cobblestone, slipping, zipping through the fence, to rest against the building within. Like a silent little army of rats, V deployed them one by one.
Then another.
Only two more. One of them halfway to target.
Both guards stiffened and as if they sensed something wrong. They scanned the exterior.
The stranded robot stayed for the moment, fixed in the peripheral vision of the left MP. V pushed the toggle forward. Go!
Trapped again. This time almost underfoot. V could feel beads of cold sweat that formed on his forehead. If the soldier stepped an inch sideways, it would explode.
Quiet. Wait for it.
Now!
He summoned it alive past the guard. Had V waited, they would all be dead.
Only one more to go.
Position.
Ready.
Dispatched.
It worked.
Solitude was not an option for this moment. If it were, the night would fill with the deafening sound if triumph.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
Somewhere beneath the muted light of a crippled city, beneath the rain soaked pavement and layers of black earth, beneath the onslaught, the suffering, and the malevolence, hid an ancient channel.
A tunnel.
An original passageway used by a man with an idea, whose foiled attempt to blow up the Houses of Parliament in 1605, caused his torture and eventual execution for treason.
Deep in this abandoned testament of the past, a woman's eyes widened with the futile effort to compensate for the darkness and tried to scratch her way back into the warmth and light of the Gallery.
"God."
Oh my God. God no.
No.
Injured and alone, her heart filled with heightening terror from the awareness of her situation. Evey grappled at the door, eventually succumbing to failure. Bending at the neck, the ceiling seemed low enough to be uncomfortable.
"V." Gathering her robe around her, she felt her knees giving in. She steadied herself, and tried to think of a way out.
She waited and waited.
Her only companion, the sound of her breathing…
Gasping. Catching. Gasping. Echoing, as she looked around for any sign of light. Trying to ignore her phobia of the pitch black that consumed and covered her like a constant shroud, Evey wiped the tears that stung her eyes.
Have to move.
She felt the cold ground beneath her feet, and shivered. She stepped, the pain in her ankle shot up her leg. The pain.
It's cold…so cold.
Panicking…shaking… foraging…her hands stretched out in front, reaching for anything remotely familiar, anything. She stumbled to an earthen wall, searching it…scanning with her palms for direction.
Stop-stop-STOP!
Crumbling at her touch, a cool mound of soil fell at her feet.
I could be buried alive. The thought ripped at her consciousness making her heart slam in her chest. What the hell is this place?
Evey strained sucking in the cold musty air. Resistance from the lack of oxygen caused pain in her chest.
Hurting…lungs…no…can't go there.
She backed away searching, blindly probing all different directions. So cold. She was freezing in her small robe and undergarments, but her palms were sweating and the hot tears stung her face.
The fear…as unforgivable and unyielding as madness and the threat of it now crippled her reasoning ability. She needed air. She had to get out.
Give up…give up.
"V! Get me out of here!" She yelled with her face upward at the top of her lungs, and heard it rebound in the distance. Detached and isolated, Evey tried to compose herself. She quaked uncertain if it was the result of the temperature in this place or the fear and longing for the security of what she knew to be home. Home. Will I ever see it?
Folding her arms around herself, she squeezed her eyes shut, and doubled over to cry.
Wait.
A sound. So small.
The hair on the back of her neck stood and spread across her shoulders. Something moved the dirt, in the distance behind her. Scuttling!
Yelling out, she bolted limping on her ankle-the pain.
Run. Run!
"Oh my God, oh my God!"
"GOD!"she screamed. It pierced and shattered her inner being, the sound of footsteps cascaded all around her, the place came alive.
Run.
Crying, gasping, echoing. Run. Oh the stale air. Run. The decay, it filled her lungs.
Push! Push forward! Keep going!
Behind me.
Them.
Faster. Run.
Have to stop…can't…can't breathe…out of breath…no…not this… please…not asthma…please not now… God…don't panic…don't panic.
Keep running… fast…fast…can't let them get me.
Gasping…catching…wheezing…catching.
Run.
No slow down…have to stop.
Stop.
Stop!
Don't breathe. Slow, try not to breathe.
Listen.
Am I hallucinating?
Nothing.
Nothing, gone.
Evey took in a deep inhale. The torment and her relentless terror of the dark threatened to swallow her once more.
V.
Fear of man, something V nullified, perhaps forever. Evey was angry at the time, now grateful. Most of her childhood fears were all deeply entrenched into her human psyche, a necessary element to create a delicate balance. There are many fears though, some more frightening than any man.
Am I dead? Is this what death is? Is this how it feels? Nothing?
Gasp.
Catch.
Breathing…mine?
Stop.
"Is someone there?" Evey could hear the question move ahead repeating in the void before her fading out.
Behind then? She turned around sharply.
Someone here with me?
She could hear the breathing behind her threatening, menacing, wanting.
Reaching for her!
Buried alive.
"No!" She sobbed and ran dragging her foot behind her, uncertain if this was for real or her mind playing tricks on her.
"God…no!" She screeched so loud it filled the darkness.
Run.
Pain shot up her leg into her groin.
Run!
Clutching her abdomen with her arm, the asthma was overpowering her. Run!
You're gonna die here. The words repeated in her mind from the time she was a prisoner. She remembered how ruthless they were, how they cut her insides like a razor.
Faster.
No!
She fell to the floor panting.
I …
…I can't
…I can't breathe.
You faced your death…
Asthma.
…you were calm you were still.
Inhale.
…commit yourself to it.
The pain.
You faced your death Evey, you were calm you were still. Try to feel now what you felt then.
…what you felt then.
His voice in her head. Evey remembered the moment. His gloved hands on her face. The warmth spread through her whole body.
You were calm.
Releasing her. Freeing her.
What you felt then.
Remember…slow…remember… inhale…exhale.
…you faced your death.
Evey.
Evey coughed and sucked in some dirt with a great lungful of air. Propping herself on the ground, she could smell the clay, the soil, rich in minerals, and the stagnating water. And something else, something poignant and familiar, a different scent that didn't belong.
Evey knelt and then stood, shaken. She wiped away the tears and grime from her forehead with her arm. She recalled the sounds and picked herself up, hastening forward.
Move.
She walked, trying to bury whatever loomed in the darkness to the recess of her mind. This was all in my mind, just a bad dream. Her only concern now was her escape from this place and her way back to the Gallery. She would find a way out. She would find her way back to him. She wasn't going to die here. Not here, not alone in this place.
Keep going. Keep moving.
Wait.
Something.
Orange. Dull. Orange that twinkled far in the distance. Shifting somehow. Strange. Was she imagining it? She blinked to try to get a better view. She squinted and hobbled towards it.