The Portrait and The Letter

Chapter 20

Empty and void of any human trace, St. Nicholas evoked mystery and fear on this particular July night. The air was thick with anticipation, the way to the altar echoing with footsteps as the church was invaded by The Council and its captive. Bella's hands had been zip-tied behind her back, the hood was still on, and she could barely walk. The transport from Safeira was a blur. All she was that she had been drugged. Even now, she could barely stand, the nausea digging its deep claws deep into her and she fought tooth and nail not to release the contents of her stomach inside the bag over her head.

She was surrounded by people—people she didn't know—and yet she had never felt so alone, so abandoned. Bella was close to her breaking point, close to giving up hope, yet she knew that if she did, there was nothing that would bring her back from the void.

"Where is the grave?" the old and harsh voice demanded of her.

Bella's heart was pounding in her chest, fear gripping her tightly as she tried to steady her breathing. The stale air of the musty church only intensified her anxiety. She could almost feel the penetrating gaze of her captor resting on her—his eyes cold and unrelenting.

The members of The Council had an air of subdued command, and she knew that they were not to be underestimated, her captor would know if she lied now, and he would know if she tried to buy time because, despite herself, a small part still hoped Edward would get to William in time and know where to find her.

"Try the altar," Bella said, her throat dry with fear. She tried steadying her voice, but the hours she had spent in captivity started taking their toll on her.

She heard a sharp laugh in response. "I am no fool. I know St. Nicholas burned down at the end of the 18th century. If there ever was a tomb there, they would have found it as they rebuilt part of the church."

"Then what use am I to you if you keep questioning whatever I suggest!" she growled back.

Someone rushed over and a big hand grabbed her chin through the bag, forcing her head up, stirring the nausea in her again. "You know what's at stake—more than just your miserable life." His voice trailed off ominously, and Bella's mind raced, trying to figure out a way to buy herself some time. She had to stall for time so that Edward could reach her before it was too late. A small part of her started understanding that there was no other way she would make it out alive of this situation.

Hot tears of anger ran down her cheeks as Bella defiantly sneered at him through the hood. She had no idea where to look even if she had been there by herself and been able to calmly comb through the place. She took a deep breath and tried to think through this logically. St. Nicholas had been built on the outskirts of Raven's Grove, though the surrounding woods had been chopped down in the process. Part of the church had burned down, and it made sense that—during its rebuilding, something must've been discovered.

"Lionel Wilson," Bella whispered. "He funded St. Nicholas when he held the office of mayor of Hayes." Her voice steadied as she reverted to a subject she knew, a subject she had spoken of many times.

"And?" the impatient voice demanded.

"I am just confirming my theory… he could have funded St. Nicholas and its friars to keep them quiet… look at the altar again. Everything points at it being the centerpiece."

There was hesitation in his voice as he spoke. "What are we looking for?"

Bella could hear several sets of footsteps nearing the altar. She had no idea, and as she faltered, she sensed the malicious eyes regarding her again.

"Tick-tock, Ms. Dwyer," he said, his voice a cold whisper.

Bella's heart sank, fear and panic consuming her.

"If you could remove this hood, I might look for it myself."

Silence followed her request and Bella swallowed hard, feeling a chill run down her spine. Maybe she had asked for too much.

"If you turn around it will be the last thing you do." She heard the safety of a gun being removed.

Suddenly the hood was removed, her eyes momentarily blinded despite the dim blue light filtering through the windows of the church. Was it still night? How much time had really passed? Bella wasn't sure. The light filtering through the tall windows to her left was soft, gentle, alluring. It invoked a false sense of security within her. She could sense the people behind her, knowing that turning around would be the last thing she did. The plastic zip ties dug into her wrists, and she took a big gulp as she slowly approached the altar.

The shadows on the wooden piece—a reconstruction since the burning of the church—were eerie and harsh. Various saints were depicted in the expertly carved wood, now darkened over time. In the middle, was the Virgin, cradling her son in her arms. Her eyes drifted over the altar for a while. Slowly, her eyes started scanning the dusty corners of the church, looking for something to latch onto, something she might build her hypothesis or even a lie on.

"I need my hands," she said in a strained voice.

Without a word, a set of footsteps approached her from behind, two hands roughly grabbed her wrists and cut the plastic off her. The sudden rush of blood to her hands made Bella hiss in pain. She massaged her wrists, trying to stifle the shaking. Nothing indicated that the altar hid anything, and a sinking feeling began taking root in her heart.

She walked behind the wide table holding the candlesticks and cloth. Her fingers traced the wood, her sight adjusting to the light. She went on her knees to the bottom of the altar, looking at the carved border for something.

She heard whispers behind her, not wanting to guess what they were debating. She had started shaking and fought against tears of anguish and fear from falling. If they saw her reaction, they would know she was clueless as to where to look.

Her hands trailed along the stone floor, noting that under the table, the pattern of the stones was placed differently from the rest of the nave and altar. It wasn't uncommon, however. Bella had seen it before, it was a normal trait for Angloan churches built in the 16th century.

She paused. This stone should, like by the clock tower and entrance, be darker from the fire. But it looked newer. Could the masons have known to mimic the old pattern from the original church or was this added later? After all, St. Nicholas had been restored unreasonably fast considering how large the damages had been. To place such an intricate pattern would have taken money and effort.

Bella felt the air leave her lungs and for the first time, her pulse rose not because of her precarious situation, but because she suspected she had found something worth investigating further.

"I need help moving this table," she said, her voice less strained now. It was as if her new discovery had given her strength. "I am closing my eyes," she added, hoping to avoid the bag.

She heard several sets of footsteps approach her and eager voices whispering. She heard the heavy altar table being lifted to the side, the grunts of the men revealing its weight to her. Bella still pinched her eyes closed, not knowing when she might be able to open them.

"I need light," she said, opening her eyes and staring down at the floor. From her peripheral view she saw several sets of shoes and noted that amongst them, one particular man wore finely polished dress shoes, contrasting starkly against the combat boots worn by the rest.

"Cast the light over her," her captor's voice said.

The artificial light of a flashlight was directed over Bella's shoulders. She was still on her knees on the floor, looking at the intricate circle pattern in the stone. It reminded her of the opening in the mausoleum in Adelton Hall down to the crypts. This had to be something, she surmised.

Slowly, her hands trailed along the circular middle stone. There wasn't anything carved into it, which she had expected. In other older Angloan churches, a cross would have been carved into such a stone, to mark the center of the bema, the elevated platform used as an orator's podium. Here it was missing, perhaps because there had been no time for such a carving. Her fingers trailed around the stone. It was about a meter and a half in diameter and had partially been hidden by the table. She realized now that the table which had been placed before the altar stood too far away from it, to partially disguise the stone. It was something she hadn't thought of before but now it was so obvious to her.

"I think we need to lift this circular stone."

She sensed the members of The Council hovering over her. "That stone looks well bolted to the floor," a man's voice said above her.

"It hasn't been removed in a while," she retorted. "I suggest you use a crowbar if you should have such a thing with you."

Bella gasped as the bag came over her head and she was dragged to the side. She heard several sets of footsteps and the impact of metal against the stone. "The stone is too robust for you to make an indent," she argued. The banging was exchanged by metal grinding against coarse stone.

The loud grinding of metal against the stone started a headache and she clenched her teeth, almost as if it was her head and not the stone being pried away.

Suddenly, after what felt like hours, she could hear the first sign of the stone giving way. Something had cracked and sounds of triumph and labored breath were followed by more intense coaxing and more cracking. The metal rods were placed aside and now she heard how they tried to lift part of the stone, hearing it protest, but Bella knew they were being successful.

Stone being dragged against stone was followed by a pregnant silence. More stone was moved, and Bella's pulse slowly started rising. Had she been wrong?

Suddenly a set of arms roughly dragged her somewhere. She had lost her sense of direction and Bella flailed her arms as she protested. She was placed facing the floor, the hood once more removed from her face.

As she blinked, she stared down at a black hole where she distinguished a narrow set of spiral stone stairs leading down into the darkness. However they were useless, most of the steps had fallen away or crumbled from something.

She saw shadows outlined above her. "You go down first," her captor's voice said gruffly as she was handed a torch.

"What if it's unsafe—"

"That's why you will go first."

Bella blinked away tears of fear, trying not to think what might await her there. If she ran, they would shoot her, if she refused, they would shoot her. Suddenly, someone pressed something hard and cold against the back of her head, implying that going down wasn't a suggestion. The gun would be fired if she didn't act soon.

Bella steeled herself, there was no choice after all. And, perhaps, there might be an escape down in the depths. She sat herself over the edge, her legs dangling in the darkness. A flashlight was given to her, and she shone down the hole. Past the first initial stone steps, she could see stone flooring at the end of the light, the drop looked high though.

"I need a rope," she pleaded.

Next to her, a rope was unceremoniously tied to a pillar near the nave, and she pushed the rest of it down the hole. Bella gulped as she gripped the flashlight between her teeth and pinched her eyes shut as she turned around, slowly lowering herself over the edge. When nothing but her torso was over the edge and her legs dangled in the darkness, she wondered if she should simply let go and fall so that it would all be over with. But she knew that there was a small chance, even if only one in a million, that the SCR might get to her in time. Thus, she gripped the coarse rope, holding on for dear life as her muscles protested. Bella lowered herself, her captors shining their light on her, blinding her as she climbed down the rope. After what felt like an age, she felt the stability of a stone floor under her feet, and she gave out a relieved sigh as she let go of the rope that had painfully dug into her hands.

Bella removed the flashlight from between her teeth and guided the light through the darkness. The room was smaller than she had expected and by the end of it was a small platform. She searched for a doorway or stairs that might lead out of the room but found no such thing and new dread claimed her as she realized this room was empty.

She walked up to the platform. It looked like it had been built to hold something.

"What do you see?" asked the rough voice from above.

Bella wondered if Lionel Wilson had built a new tomb for William and Isabella to move them and thus truly be the only one to know of their new location. That was probably why he had funded the reconstruction of St. Nicholas.

"Hold on," she said as she walked around the platform. "It's too dark, I need to search the entire space."

Her heart continued to sink in her chest as she understood that this was yet another dead end, just like the crypts in Adelton. But Bella comforted herself with the fact that she had probably gotten closer than anyone before her. How pathetic that no one should ever know how far she'd truly managed to go.

She turned around, staring at the light coming from the hole above her. She didn't have anything more to stall them with, not now. Bella sat down in defeat.

"Your silence is enough, Ms. Dwyer," came the irritated voice above her. She suddenly noticed how a large piece of stone was slowly placed over the hole, blocking out most of the light and it dawned on her that her demise might not be as swift as she had expected. But this was worse.

She rushed to the opening, looking up but blinded by the flashlights.

"Please, not like this!" she pleaded in desperation, true and raw fear lacing her voice.

The rope had already been retrieved and her only escape was being blocked out, bit by bit.

Bella fell to her knees. How long until someone found her? Would someone even find her? Would they hear her? The stone was thick. Would they notice it had been removed? The table would be placed over it for certain. Would she have enough air until she was discovered? The Council didn't seem to think so. Their plan had been to end her life from the start, of that she was certain, and they wouldn't leave her here alone lest they thought she wouldn't be found.

"Please!" she pleaded again, desperation now prevalent in her as well. The final piece blocked out any other light save from her own flashlight and as it came in place, she couldn't even hear their muffled voices.

Bella buried her face in her hands. She had not the strength nor will to cry. She was furious that this was how it ended for her, it wasn't fair, it wasn't right.

Edward and Jacob had approached the church from the woods while Jasper and Emmett took care of the guards in the front, making sure to sabotage the three Jeeps that stood waiting for the members of The Council.

Jacob noticed how tense Edward had grown as he perceived the lights from within the church. "They have to at least know we're coming," Jacob mumbled. "It's The Council, this all feels too easy."

"I think William was a diversion all along," Edward confirmed. "But could they really have wanted to get to her that badly?"

Jacob didn't know if he should mention it, but he wasn't the only one who had noticed the relationship forming between Bella and Edward. Surely, The Council had to have thought the same, because this almost seemed to be a trap meant to lure out the SCR, somehow.

"The Council has always been wary of Cullen… they still think you're the same Cullen from two years ago. We have sabotaged enough for them, especially with the latest elections for them to want to hit the SCR where it hurts. They think Bella might be…"

Edward tensed his jaw under the mask. "They aren't wrong."

"Then you should sit this one out," Jacob argued.

"We counted at least a dozen men in there, we need everyone on board," Edward argued back. "I know what I have to do, I know this might be a retrieval mission and not a saving mission."

"South entrance cleared," Emmett said in the coms.

"West entrance cleared and secured," Jasper said.

Edward turned to Jacob. "We are closer than ever," he said to his friend.

They made ready to strike. The BNI had already been informed and on their way, Carlisle and Raleigh were only a few hours behind.

When the SCR struck, it was always swift. Usually, their victim never had time to register what had happened before they were disarmed and on the ground.

But The Council was different. While this group had not expected the SCR, they were certainly on alert for them.

Inside the church, one of their members suddenly pushed their leader to the side as the sound of a shot echoed. The Council opened fire before the rubber bullet of the SCR had hit the ground.

What followed was a shoot-out the church of St. Nicholas hadn't seen since the Battle for Hayes in 1795. One by one, however, the members of The Council fell, until only two were left standing, taking cover near the bell tower.

A black silhouette towered over them suddenly, the blue patch standing out against the black uniform. "You have no bullets left," the dark voice taunted.

The until now unknown Council member scoffed. He wasn't too bothered, he knew reinforces would back him up. All he needed was to stall.

Jacob's eyes widened as Mr. Barker made himself visible. Barker frowned at his guards, all of them knocked out by the SCR save the final one which had done everything he could to at least hurt one of the mysterious agents.

"Curious, usually you are so late to arrive," Barker taunted.

Another agent neared from behind, quickly disarming the final guard and taking the weapons from him. Barker kept searching for one particular agent. "Your captain has decided not to grace us with his presence today?"

As if on demand, Cullen emerged from behind a pillar. He confidently walked up to Barker.

"Can't say I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Cullen, although I've seen you from afar," Barker spat.

"Where is she?" There would be time to interrogate Barker. Edward should have been surprised that someone as prestigious as Mr. Barker had been caught with The Council, and he should have been surprised that The Council had let down their guard enough for Barker to be on a mission with them. However, his only thoughts rested with the well-being of Bella.

As if reading his mind, Barker couldn't help but smirk, a chuckle escaping him that made his chins wobble. His beady eyes squinted at the masked man before him and despite his precarious situation, Barker didn't seem worried. It was as if he knew something the SCR agents didn't.

"You know, I thought there was something between the two of you when we first weeded out her codename. It was you, wasn't it, who insisted she be named Swan? It's beyond fitting if you ask me."

Edward approached, his nerves razor thin. "The SCR can kill as well as you, don't test me."

Barker stared up at the insect-like glasses, squinting his beady eyes. "Your supervisor won't let you lay a finger on me, we both know I must be kept alive." Barker sounded so convinced.

Edward clenched his jaw under the mask. His patience was wearing thin. "You are more naïve than I thought if you still expect her to be alive," Barker mused.

Without warning, Edward's hands gripped around Barker's collar, pulling him in. None of his men made a move to stop him, but they watched in tension, knowing all Edward needed was a push.

"I would kill you here and now, despite any orders from my supervisor, and you know I could. I would really start remembering where you placed Ms. Dwyer, or the news tomorrow will be of how your dismembered body was found on the docks of Safeira."

Barker stifled a chill at the ominous voice and despite very much believing in the threat Cullen had just given him, he would not budge.

Just as Edward was about to act, a sound outside the church had all the SCR agents and Barker perk up. While the SCR agents grew alert, Barker revealed a smug smirk.

"I am afraid this is the closest you lot will ever come to dismantling The Council."

Edward kept his eyes glued to the man before him while Jacob and Emmett rushed out of the church to investigate. It appeared Barker was expecting back-up.

"We should find a more secure location," Jasper suggested. While they had placed some cameras around the building, those had mostly been directed toward the building. Right now, they were blind as to whom might be outside, and if it indeed was reinforcement from The Council, the SCR were severely outmanned.

Edward's fists tightened around the collar.

"Go and check, Fox," he said.

Jasper hesitated.

"That's an order."

Edward fully kept his gaze fixed on Barker. If reinforcements were being sent, he would take care of Barker before he could be saved. But not before he revealed where Bella was.

Jasper left them, unable to defy an order from his superior in the field.

"Can't handle the pressure, Cullen?"

"You have one more chance," Edward said, a hand moving to one of his pockets and retrieving a small strange-looking blade. Along it, were several holes in the middle. Barker couldn't help as he stared at it. "Recognize this blade, Barker?"

Suddenly, Barker's eyes lit with recognition and the previous cockiness slowly dissipated.

"After all, this was the blade you used against me two years ago," Edward spat.

The perforations on the blade were meant to introduce air into the wound. The wound made by the serrated blade would not hurt when going in, but removing it would not only tear at the flesh, causing a painful opening, but also leave behind air pockets that resulted in a more than painful death. It was a sadistic medieval weapon, meant to torture its victim before slowly killing it. It had been used by The Council before, on the captain of the SCR which had in their eyes miraculously survived. They could not know, however, that the captain had been replaced by his younger brother, vowing to destroy the organization that had killed him. Edward still remembered how Carlisle, an old family friend, had contacted him out of nowhere, how he had been taken to a bunker where Oscar—still dressed in his SCR uniform—lay on a bed suffering from the wound that had been inflicted on his left flank. How they had managed to keep him alive in time for Edward to get to him, Edward didn't know, but he remembered vividly his older brother gripping the blade in his hand, remembered the words he'd whispered and the promise he'd made Edward keep.

But Barker didn't know any of that. Edward was so tempted to use the knife, and let Barker suffer the same fate Oscar had.

"S-She's here!" Barker growled. Oh well, the old PM thought, it wouldn't be long before the captain of the SCR was dealt with as well.

Just then, the front doors to the church opened and the headlights of a car illuminated both Edward and Barker, momentarily blinding them. Barker couldn't help as he gave out a sound of triumph and Edward felt his stomach drop.

But it was then that he made out a familiar form contrasting against the headlights.

Marcus Raleigh stepped into the church, followed by Jasper and Jacob. While Edward breathed out, Barker grew confused.

"Not a moment too late, I figured?" Raleigh said merrily as he approached Barker. He produced a set of handcuffs as he gently gestured for Edward to release him.

As he placed the handcuffs on a confounded Barker he spoke. "Barker, you are hereby under arrest for the kidnapping and detainment of William Fell, Isabella Dwyer, and Isaiah Everett, and for the murder of Elias Wickham and attempted murder of Miranda Gonzalez. You are also under arrest for suspected election fraud."

"This is an outrage!" Barker growled. "You have no right—"

"Everything you say can and will be used against you, Barker. I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you, but you are of course more than welcome to blabber on as you always seem to enjoy doing."

As Barker was being taken away by BNI officers, Raleigh turned to Edward. "Any indication as to her whereabouts?" he asked.

Jasper had joined them as well.

"Barker confessed she is here somewhere," Edward admitted.

"Bear and Wolf have combed through the entire building just now, no trace of her."

Edward looked up the nave. She had to be here. He squinted at the altar, just then noticing the metal poles discarded around the altar table. Odd. He quickly walked up the nave, swiftly followed by Jasper and Raleigh. Behind the table he noticed the floor looking odd, like small mounds of dust or sand had recently been brushed away. Raleigh followed Edward's glance and started thinking along the same tracks.

"Maybe we should move the altar table," Raleigh suggested.

Bella didn't know when but at one point the air in the small room had become thicker. She had lain down by the platform, resting her head on her hands, shivering at the cold closing in on her. Her mind drifted like she was just about to go to sleep—wayward thoughts invading her mind. She thought back to her mother and Phil, and Castell which she suddenly missed. She thought back to Safeira, to Hayes, to the time she had spent with her friends, to the time she had spent with the SCR, and with everything connected to it.

Time spent alone in the darkness had made her mind wander once more to the secret of the letter and to the final resting place of the Fells. She knew she was close enough that she could touch the final tomb of William and Isabella. One thing eluded her, one thing she couldn't place her finger on.

If Wilson had built a new tomb under St. Nicholas, that meant moving the graves would have to be done swiftly. That meant, Bella slowly started realizing, that the grave was indeed close by.

And what else was close to St. Nicholas? What else might, at first glance seem to belong to Raven's Grove but did in fact not? The more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

And the more frustrated she grew.

Maybe Edward would find her, but maybe that would be too late for her to share the now blossoming theory.

She didn't stir as something above her started scraping. Bella didn't react either as, piece by piece, broken stone was removed, revealing the hole to the crypt. A thin beam of light filtrated through as a thin piece of rope was cast down, a shadow nimbly climbing down it.

She did react, however, to the faint thud of two feet making contact with the ground. Wide-eyed she shot up, turning around to face the other end of the small crypt.

At first, she thought herself to be hallucinating for truly she couldn't have this luck. Her lip quivered as she forced herself up to stand on the platform. She had to make sure that her mind wasn't playing tricks on her in the darkness. As she approached the figure, she stumbled, her body tired, revealing the toil the last few hours had had on her.

She never made it to him, for he got to her first, and before Bella could react or speak, a pair of arms pulled her into a tight embrace.

She cried out once she realized that this was not a hallucination, that the figure hugging her was very real. And as he placed her at arm's width apart to take her in, she was met by two sets of vibrant green eyes, worry mixed with relief seeping through them. He had removed the glasses.

He took in every inch of her, the cuts and bruises on her arms, the haggard look on her face, the disbelief merging into relief in her eyes.

"You're okay," he said. He had turned off the voice modulator, shedding yet another layer of the SCR uniform before her.

"You're okay," he said again, but now mostly to reassure himself. His voice grew more tender as he once more pulled her in. Bella rested her forehead against his chest and breathed out, pinching her eyes shut as she gripped at him.

Tears of relief were running down her cheeks. She didn't know how it was that she suddenly believed him, that she truly was okay. Bella was safe and a warmth extended within her. For a moment, she wished that they could remain this way forever as he caressed her face on reflex.

She turned to look up at him, staring into the gentle green eyes. "Is it over?"

He nodded. "It is," he said with an outline of a smile under the mask.

They remained in solace, tightly embracing one another before it was time to leave the crypt. Bella turned around. She had found another piece to the puzzle but not enough to unveil the entire thing. The letter, she surmised, must never have been here. And Lionel must never have had the time to move the graves of Isabella and Edward under St. Nicholas.

As she was secured to the rope by a harness and hoisted up before Edward, she took one last look at the darkness of the crypt, taking in everything that had transpired for the last few days. Could it truly culminate into this anticlimax? But right now, she was anything but disappointed as she was hoisted up by several sets of arms. Harsh beams from cars outside and people in BNI uniforms finally revealed to Bella that she was safe. She spotted Wolf and Fox in a corner, both perking up as they saw her. She also saw the Director speaking with a man she thought she recognized.

As a blanket was comfortingly placed over her shoulders, she slowly started coming to terms with the ordeal she had gone through as the Director approached her.

"Miranda, is she okay?" Bella asked with wide eyes.

Carlisle gave her a reassuring nod. "She's in the hospital, she'll be okay."

"And the boy?"

"With his mother."

Bella let a breath of relief escape her, stumbling on legs that suddenly grew shaky. A set of hands caught her from behind. "You are okay now too," the Director said before her, and she had the growing suspicion that there was something akin to guilt invading his face.

Bella noticed that the set of hands belonged to Edward, and she nodded. She was in safe hands now.

A/N: Thank you once more for all the wonderful reviews and feedback on the previous chapter. I am very sorry for the delay in posting this one. I don't really have an excuse, life, work, family, and friends get in the way sometimes. Having said that, I will try to set aside more time to finish the final chapters and edit them so that I can post them as soon as possible. :)

Cheers!

Isabelle