by N. C. Reed
“Vanessa?” Jessica said after a moment of thought. “I. . .it was something like that. Maybe with a jay or a gee though? Janessa? Maybe?”
“Well, regardless, I'd say he's learned his lesson about grabbing young women on the street,” Meredith said wryly.
“I wish I hadn't done that,” Jessica sighed. “I don't know why I did unless it was just because I was startled. Still, it caused a lot of trouble.”
“He caused it, not you,” Meredith pointed out.
Lincoln remained silent, thinking about Jessica's actions, and statements. The mystery surrounding their 'wayward waif', as Tony had taken to calling her, was growing more intriguing all the time. Knowing how to fly a ship, knowing hand-to-hand combat, celestial navigation, which was much different from just piloting. Having a forty-year-old cartoon as an idol when you're maybe twenty-five and said cartoon was banned before you were even born. Things like that made Lincoln want to know what the deal was with their mystery girl.
Meredith had certainly taken a liking to her, that was for sure. For someone as straight-laced as his wife to agree to hide a woman who couldn't possibly be who she said she was, and then get her a forged identity that made the girl her 'sister'. . .well, that was more right there than Lincoln had ever imagined his wife being willing to do outside the law and order she kept her feet firmly planted on.
Of course, her idea of law and order was firmly grounded in the Commonwealth and lately she had seen that not everyone in the Commonwealth shared her views. Or her morals. Learning what had happened to Sean Galen had come as much a shock to Meredith as it had to Faulks. She had never fathomed that anyone wearing the Commonwealth uniform would commit a war crime. From his own experience, Lincoln knew that was far from true.
As a counselor, everything someone said to him was confidential, As such, many people felt comfortable sharing things with him that were not only criminally and morally wrong, but in some cases downright scary. He figured that was why he had no trouble at all accepting Sean Galen's story as true.
He had heard more than one Commonwealth soldier, sailor and marine admit to much the same thing. He knew it happened. Hadn't seen it, but knew it did nonetheless.
His wife was learning that now. Even as she adjusted to the galaxy not being just exactly what she thought of it, Lincoln was wrestling with their newest dilemma;
A girl who shouldn't exist.
And just might be even more dangerous than their engineer had turned out to be.
-
“Cops are gone,” Sean noted as Tony maneuvered around the estate to the rear gate.
“So they are,” Tony said tonelessly.
“Dude, for real?” Sean sighed.
“I'm still waiting for an answer to my question,” Tony said casually.
“Don't answer him,” Lucia popped up from the back suddenly, almost in Galen's ear. “None of that is any of his business. Keep it between us.”
“What?” Sean turned to look at the girl, who had an impish grin on her face as she winked at him. Apparently she was recovering pretty well.
Behind the controls, Tony gritted his teeth and gripped the steering with a good deal more force than was necessary.
“Don't let her rile you up, man,” Sean told his friend. “And I did answer you; nothing.”
“Uh huh,” Tony grunted.
“For God's sake, Antonio,” Lucia rolled her eyes in the mirror where he could see it. “He saved me when I thought I was all but dead. I was waiting for them to come and rape me, and then cut me into pieces to send home. Then he killed a man to protect me. Of course, I hugged him! I hugged you too!”
“I'm your brother!” Tony shot back, not mollified. “And I killed a guy too, ya know!” he added.
“Well, yeah, but. . .I mean it's not like you haven't done it before,” Lucia pointed out. “I mean before you went soft and all,” she jabbed. “For all I know Mister Galen never had any trouble before today.”
Neither man replied to that, Sean looking out the window, Tony snorting derisively while navigating the car into the grounds of the estate.
“What's funny about that?” Lucia demanded.
“Nothing,” Tony told her flatly. “How are you feeling?”
“I'm starving,” she replied.
“I'm sure you'll be able to get something as soon as we're inside,” Tony promised. “Once mom and dad allow you out of their sight anyway,” he added.
“I probably won't complain about that for a while,” she admitted, suddenly very somber. “If I had listened, Elena might not be dead now,” her voice was suddenly very small as the day's events came rushing in on her. In the euphoria of being rescued, seeing her brother again, and meeting a very handsome hero, she had allowed herself to forget about that for a little while. Now it was right back into the front of her mind.
“This wasn't your fault, Lucy,” Tony told her as they entered the underground garage. There was a small welcoming committee there composed of their parents, the family physician, and an even dozen security personnel.
“Yes it was,” the girl said dully. “Elena tried to tell me to slow down. To wait and let Franz and Bella do their jobs. Now, they're all three dead. If I had listened, they wouldn't be.”
“Yeah, they would,” Tony told her. “This was a well-planned hit, Lucy. None of it was your fault, and nothing you did or didn't do would have changed things. Period. Now enough of that. You're home, you're safe. Franz and Bella were doing their job and knew how dangerous it was when they took it. And Elena? Do you think she would be worried about anything other than whether you were okay or not? I know you loved her, but she loved you too. Don't forget that. Ever.”
“I won't,” she said softly. “But I don't want to put anyone else in danger again, either,” she added before she opened the door to get out. “I may never leave this house again.”
Tony took a deep breath at that. He had hoped that she wouldn't get hit with survivor's guilt so quick and so hard. Combined with the shock of her situation, it could be enough to send her into a fit of depression.
“She'll be okay,” Sean told him quietly. “She's strong, that one.”
“I hope so,” Tony replied as he opened his own door. “I really do.”
-
Antonia and Jerome barely restrained themselves as the car pulled into the garage. It became more difficult when they could see their youngest child in the rear seat, talking to her brother. And it grew still more difficult when she didn't immediately open the door and leap out.
Finally, Lucia climbed out of the car, falling into their arms and finally allowing herself to break down almost completely. She had been strong until now, but her strength was at its limit for this day, and the presence of her parents was enough to break her emotions. The two parents engulfed their returned child and held her close as she sobbed.
“I'm so sorry!” she wailed into her father's broad chest.
“This was none of your fault, my child,” Antonia told her softly, stroking her daughter's hair. “This was not your fault.”
The two pulled her with them, the doctor following them into the house. The security team split between following them and looking at Sean Galen, covered in blood.
“C'mon, man,” Tony told him. “Let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. You can shower while I find you something to wear.”
“He's not going into the house armed,” one of the security men said in what he fondly imagined to be an intimidating voice.
“Excuse me, dickhead?” Tony growled. “Did you say something? It almost sounded like you said something.”
“I can't allow him into the house armed, sir,” the man modified his tone but held firm on that.
“He's already been in the house armed once today, moron,” Tony informed him. “And I assure you, the six of you aren't enough to stop if him if he really wanted inside. Now you get the hell out of our way before I shoot your stupid ass myself. Don't argue with me!” his voice raised as the man starte
d to speak again.
“C'mon, Sean,” Tony extended his arm. “Just ignore him. He thinks he's somebody, apparently.”
Face flushed, the security goon watched helplessly as the blood covered man with the knives and gun was escorted into the house by the boss' son.
“You're dumb as a rock, you know that?” one of the other men said once they were alone. The red-faced guard looked at his companion.
“That's Antonio Delgado, you idiot,” the man hissed. “You don't tell him anything. You ask. Politely. And considering that the two of them just showed up with the boss' daughter and he's covered in blood not his own, whose blood do you reckon that is?”
Comprehension dawned on the man's face as the words of his comrade sank in.
“Well, at least you can learn,” the other man sighed as he waved for the others to return to their posts.
-
Sean Galen used a guest room to shower, finding clothes on the bed when he emerged from the bath. Clothes that by some magic happened to be a perfect fit. He had just finished dressing when there was a knock at the door. He opened to find the woman who had gotten them into the house earlier that morning.
“Yes?”
“The Mistress would like to see you, Mister Galen,” Marisa told him softly. “She is in her study. I can take you there now, if you like.”
“I thought she'd be with her daughter,” Sean temporized. He wasn't sure he wanted to see Antonia Delgado at the moment.
“The bambina is with the doctor,” the woman shook her head. “She will be some time. Dona Delgado wishes to speak to you in private.”
“All right,” Sean was reluctant but couldn't figure a way out of it. Stepping out of the room he followed Marisa through the hallway and then down a massive set of stairs to the ground floor. Weaving through two more hallways they came back to the front receiving hall where Marisa had met them that morning.
Sean remembered the room, having been inside it that morning with Tony as they spoke to his current escort. Marisa stopped at the door, knocked twice, and opened it when a soft reply came from inside. She waved Sean inside and then closed the door from the hallway, leaving him alone with the 'Dona'.
“Ma'am,” Sean nodded.
“Please sit,” Antonia indicated a chair. “Firstly I must thank you for freeing and protecting my daughter, Mister-” she paused suddenly, looking at him.
“May I know your name, Hound of War?” she asked in their native tongue. Sean looked at her flatly for a moment. She was asking for his truename. His clan and tribal names.
“Bringer of Storms,” he replied carefully. “My father called me Stormcrow.”
It was no surprise when her eyes widened slightly at the revelation, and he sighed slightly in resignation. He had almost lied about his name but decided against it. Now he was second guessing that decision.
“I see,” Antonia nodded. “I was once known as Eyes Afar,” she reciprocated. “As I was saying,” she continued, “I must thank you for returning my daughter to me. And as I promised, whatever you ask of me will be done.”
“I require nothing,” Sean told her simply.
“I expected such,” she admitted. “Still, know the favor is there. And I must now ask you for yet another,” she told him. “I find myself with my honor stained, Bringer of Storms. I face a delicate matter that calls for a great deal of discretion. Something that I cannot turn from, yet cannot do myself. Do you understand?”
“You wish me to kill your son,” he said evenly. Her eyes grew wide once again.
“I see you are not surprised at this revelation,” she managed to remain calm despite her surprise.
“I suspected him this morning,” Sean admitted. “But it was not my place to say.”
“Indeed,” she nodded slowly. “It is a heavy heart that makes this decision, Bringer of Storms. Yet I cannot allow this to go unpunished. I wish you to listen.” She reached out without another word and pressed a button.
“She'll have two guards and a maid with her,” it was a man's voice, disguised but still recognizable if you knew it.
“What are we supposed to do with her?” a woman's voice growled back. “And why not do your own dirty work?”
“Circumstances require me to be elsewhere,” the man told her. “Thus I turn to you. She is not to be harmed, merely taken.”
“And the others?” the woman asked.
“Kill them to show our resolve,” came the flat reply.
“Our resolve, is it?” the woman sounded scornful. “We're the people taking the risks.”
“And you will be rewarded for them,” the man assured her, not rising to the bait. “Simply take her, deliver the message, and then reap the benefits. A simple matter that will help you and me.”
“Why is it so important to you that this. . .Roberto, be in charge of the Delgado Family?” the woman demanded.
“That does not concern you, but suffice it to say he is easier to work with than his father,” came the reply. Antonia shut off the rest of the recording and looked at Sean Galen across her desk.
“You see my problem,” she stated rather than asked. “I told my husband I would be the one to deal with this. It isn't that his family, his people, would not deal similarly with such a thing, but. . .I cannot allow this to pass. You understand me, Stormcrow?”
“I do,” Sean nodded. Her honor was stained now by the actions of her traitorous son. “Bi'ats'e daag'oo'aahase,” he said simply. His behavior condemns him to death.
“Then I regretfully must ask you; will you do me this favor? Will you restore my honor, so that my ancestors smile upon me once more?”
“I will,” he said at once. “Do you know where he is?”
“Yes,” she nodded, handing him an address written on a slip of paper. “I can have someone take you there,” she offered.
“Best you don't,” he told her easily. “Let them drop me a mile or so away and I'll take it from there. Do you know how long he will be here?” he raised the paper.
“He thinks he is safe,” Antonia said simply. “That is very important to him, feeling safe. I suspect he will feel safer in daylight, thus he will remain where he is until then. He is alone, and thus his fear will increase. He is cut off, and thus he will be ever more cautious. I do warn you, however,” she looked at him levelly. “He is treacherous and smart; a dangerous combination. Do not assume anything where he is concerned for I have truly given birth to a servant of the Ma'ii.” The Coyote. The Trickster.
“I will be careful,” he nodded. “Do you want him to disappear, or be found?” he asked her quietly.
“Better he be found, I think,” she admitted. “If his death can be blamed on those who took my daughter, so much the better.”
“Do you want him to know?” he asked carefully, looking at her closely.
“Yes,” she admitted after a brief hesitation. “I find it needful,” she added.
“Very well,” Sean nodded again. “I'll be going. Have whoever is driving me ready in ten minutes. And please, not that guy with the shaved head that was down there earlier.”
“He is no longer here,” she smiled at him. “Antonio dealt with that as soon as he saw to your comfort. We do not suffer fools for long, Mister Galen. Unless of course they are ours,” she added wryly.
“Then I will go,” Sean told her and left the room as quietly as he had entered. Antonia suppressed a shiver as he went. She had never considered who he might be. . . .
“Roberto, my son,” she whispered aloud. “I send you on your way by the Ari PerroDemos. May he pursue your soul to hell if need be for the shame you have brought me.”
-
“You and your friend have done well, Antonio.”
Tony was sitting with his father in the latter's study, each nursing a glass of brandy.
“Sean did most of it,” Tony shrugged.
“It was a most fortuitous set of circumstances that led you home at just such a time,” his father lifted his glass in salute.<
br />
“You have no idea,” Tony laughed harshly. He spent the next half hour explaining to his father how he had come to be on Lucia that day, including receiving the messages from his parents on Liberty Vale.
“We never know what will come of things that happen,” Jerome admitted.
“I guess,” Tony sighed. “I sort of manipulated the Captain into coming here. I set Lincoln up to see an eye surgeon here in the city, and got Tuttle to get us a good cargo in and out to pay for the trip. Plus I used some old friends to get papers for the girl,” he added.
“You have been busy,” his father mused. “I don't suppose you're staying, since you're here.” There was no challenge, no condemnation nor hint of pleading either. It was just a question.
“I don't think that's a good idea, pop,” Tony replied. “Just in one day I've lost a lot of the 'good old Tony' that I had pretty much turned myself into over the last three years. I admit there were extenuating
circumstances, but still. . .it's probably better for me to stay away from this life.”
“I understand,” Jerome nodded. “Perhaps Lucia will be strengthened by all of this,” he seemed to change the subject. “She might one day sit in this seat, you know,” he added with a smile.
“Over Roberto?” Tony frowned. “Well I can't imagine him taking that all too well,” he snorted. “What happened to him, anyway? I mean, 'let the cops handle it'? Really?”
“Yes,” Jerome nodded, allowing his disappointment to show. “I admit I have allowed the police to pursue those who encroach on our legitimate interests, but. . .there is no way I will allow an attack against my family to go without reprisal.” His voice was like iron.
“Ah, speaking of which,” Tony sat up a little. “I sort of left a mess at the quarry. I was kinda in a hurry, and-”
“It has been seen to,” his father assured him. “There are also people looking for the remainder of the Falcones as well. Once they are located, we have the option of giving them to the authorities as a show of good will, or dealing with them ourselves as a show of strength. I have not yet decided which is best.”
“I can guess which way Roberto will wave,” Tony snorted, downing a good portion of his brandy.