It's not a...or is it? - Anastasia Prelude

[Wired*Nun]

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[Wired*Nun]

Anastasia thinks for the n-teenth time how violently apathetic she is about her job at the Old Post Office Pavilion. Working at EuroClassic, or EuroTrash as Adrienne calls it behind the manager’s back, pays the bills and gets some sun on her pale face, but couldn’t really be called interesting. She’d much rather be a tour guide at the National Gallery, or something along those lines – something halfway interesting anyway. But those people had degrees in Art History and things like that, and one class at a time at Georgetown is all she could afford. If it wasn’t for working part-time as a stagehand at the Kennedy Center and the free entries that got her, she’d go crazy. Euro-Jurassic is more like it.

She looks up and down the aisles of the medium-sized shop, stocked with Belgian chocolate, German clocks, French perfume, Venetian glass, and a few American tourists. It was the latter that got her down. What sense did it make looking for European flair in the capital of the US! Plenty to see and do here, and if they wanted to go to Europe, then for Pete’s sake get on a plane to Paris or London and do it for real. Nothing happening on this Tuesday night in March, but the whole thing stayed open until 8 pm, and someone had to work. It was easy money. Too easy.

Boring.

Money was such a key to everything, especially in this town. There must be something she could do to make some, somehow, but she never figured out how to do that without selling out her integrity. Her grades weren’t good enough to be a Congressional or White House intern, either, despite how tantalizingly close those corridors of power were.

These musings are interrupted by the arrival of the Mystery Man. That’s what they called him, anyway. He never spoke. He just came in, in his funny hooded white-grey caped coat, like from a Sherlock Holmes story or something, every month or two, and invariably bought the same items: One 500-gram box of Belgian chocolate pralines, Neuhaus brand, sixty-five dollars. One quarter-ounce bottle of French perfume, Chanel No. 5, ninety-five dollars. One half-liter bottle of German wine, 1994 Hattenheimer Hassel Trockenbeerenauslese, two hundred and five dollars. He always counted out the money in hundred-dollar bills, dropping four notes on the counter from his kid-gloved right hand, ignoring any attempts to give him change. She – and the other employees – figured it was a tip.

His face, when she could see it, was pale, with a closely-cropped white beard, and ice-blue eyes. He looked down his noble Gallic nose at everything from the height of at least six feet four inches. He appeared to be about fifty, but Anastasia suspected he was younger, that the white beard gave him the false impression of age.

She watches him go through his usual routine, trying as always to add some detail, some clue to his origins or role. Is he some kind of rich city hermit? Some power broker who doesn’t want to be recognized? A really, really dedicated Goth? A theatre freak?

When he comes with his purchases to the register, something unusual happens. Instead of reaching into his coat for his bills, he stares at her for a long, long moment. The ambient glows keep his face in shadow, but she can see he has lined up his hood so he can see her. His eyes glitter deep in its recesses, some trick of the light making those orbs seem to shine like chips of moon-glass.



“What is your name, Anastasia?”

She realizes her name tag is pinned prominently to her upper chest, which makes the question something of a non-sequitur, even if she wasn't stunned by the fact of his speaking.

[Darqueone]

"Ah... I usually go by Anna, actually." she responds, a little non plussed by the question. In fact, she's not sure what he's actually asking.

[Wired*Nun]

"You family name, please," he restates firmly. "You have a familiarity about you."

His voice is rich, cultured, British. Maybe he really is Sherlock Holmes, ripped straight from the pages of Conan Doyle, she thinks with an internal giggle. But in that case, he'd have already figured everything out.

[Darqueone]

"Um..." something whispers to her about telling too much about herself to a man she doesn't know. "Sorry, sir, but... that's not something I'm comfortable discussing." Her experssion polietly begs for understanding. "Have you found everything you wanted?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Hmm. Yes, perhaps I have. Thank you." She can hear the amusement in his voice, as he drops four Franklins on the counter. He waits for her to package his purchases, then takes them without comment, turning to go.

He stops, his back to her, and speaks again.

"If anything should happen...anything at all...ask for Emerson Crumbaugh at the Penguin, Mount Vernon Square."

[Darqueone]

She managees wait until he's well down the mall before venting a small burst of giggles. Emerson Crumbaugh!! At the Penguin, no less! She chuckles and scores one for herself; insight on the Mystery Man! Yeah, she'll score a couple coffees out of this from her co-workers! Grinning still, she pockets the 'tip' and thinks this is a pretty good day, between the info and the Christmas bonus provided by ... Emerson Crumbaugh! (*giggle*)

[Wired*Nun]

Walt, her 40-something manager, walks out of the back and gives her the eye. He's not a bad boss, but must have donated his sense of humor to charity sometime in the 80s. They busy themselves closing up, shutting the large sliding doors and pulling down the rolling shutters over the large doors leading to the interior space before setting the alarm and going out the back door.

In the back parking lot, Walt jingles his keys and heads for his car. "Night, 'Stasi," he mumbles as he turns away. "See you tomorrow."

[Darqueone]

"Right Walt... " and then mutters "-Anna- you dickweed...." under the breath as she walks towards the metro stop.

[Wired*Nun]

Metro is running on time, which is more or less normal for a Tuesday. The light rail ride is a study in lights and movement, and she puts her head back against the cold glass, alone in the car. Nothing interesting happens on Tuesday. She looks up and down the platform at familiar Benning Road Station as she steps out, finding it strangely empty. Shrugging self-consciously, more conspicuous among none than she would be in a crowd, Anastasia heads for the escalator down to the street.

Her mind drifts as she rides down, thinking of...not much of anything. This lasts...far too long. She comes to herself realizing that the escalator has stopped.

No, it hasn't. It's going down, but she isn't.

Yes, she is. Hmmm.

She looks down at her feet. They are firmly planted on the metal steps. She's traveling past the sides.

Looking back up, she's still not going anywhere.

Huh. Trapped in an Escher drawing, she thinks inanely. Or a L'engle tesseract? What the hell?

She realizes there's a figure on the other escalator, the up side. She looks over, half expecting it to be the Mystery Man, but it's not. It's a bald, Asian fellow in a saffron robe, like a Buddhist monk or something. He turns to look at her with a disconcerting smile. "You're lost," he says with a raised eyebrow. "Glad to find you."

Creepy. Her instincts are to get out of there, fast, or find a cop or something.

[Darqueone]

The Dhalli Lama has voodoo'd my escalator. She gives the monk a faint, confused smile and tries taking a few steps on the escalator, on the thought that she might just walk if it's... having trouble moving.

[Wired*Nun]

"You won't be leaving, bitch," he snarls, his face suddenly twisting as she starts down. He leaps over the rails and lands lightly on the steps below her, blocking her from going down. Fear surges through her as his words and actions sink in.

[Darqueone]

Anna's eyes flare as he makes his agressive moves; she grabs for her purse, seeking the pepper spray on her key chain as she starts to backpedal up the moving (or, alternately, not moving) stairs.

[Wired*Nun]

As she grabs the pepper spray, he stops, and the moving stairway carries him downward. He smiles, his face suddenly filled with peace and light. He waves his hand beneficently as he recedes, and as he reaches the floor, he turns, then walks away. For some reason, she remains in place on the still-moving escalator.

[Darqueone]

I've finally lost it. She thinks. She tries walking down a few steps... then tries running down the steps. If that doesn't work, she spins and starts sprinting UP the stairs.

[Wired*Nun]

Going down doesn't seem to work. When she turns to go upward, she sees an apparition, a vision at the top of the stairs. Floating in midair is the Madonna, looking just like every statue or carving she ever saw. Her hand is raised as if in blessing, but reversed, giving Anastasia the finger.

[Darqueone]

Oh Mother of G.... she thinks before she can stop herself, then realizes the irony of it and stops the thought. Then, before she thinks better of it, she tries leaping the rails and landing on the escalator the monk was on.

[Wired*Nun]

Now she's on the other escalator, and it carries her upward to the top, toward the apparition. When she reachs the top, it vanishes. She is left alone with her adrenaline and the chill March air.

There is still no one else anywhere in sight.

[Darqueone]

She shivers and looks for a cab. Screw this, I'll eat the fee. Safety First. If she fails to spot a cab she starts walking in the right direction, staying to the lit streets and 'safe' areas, crowds, so forth.

[Wired*Nun]

Unfortunately she's still on the platform, twenty feet above street level. Any cabs will be down below, and she'll have the brave the escalator again.

[Darqueone]

She sighs and looks down. I could jump. Or batarang, or something. She looks up and down the rails, looking for a schedule or sign of an oncoming train. Or an emergency phone station. Or... she stops and slaps her forehead, digging through her purse for her cellphone.

[Wired*Nun]

There is an emergency blue button and light. There's also emergency stairways at both ends of the platform, quite a ways in either direction.

She grabs her cell phone, and as she opens it up, the flip-form grows metal teeth and bites her on the thumb, clamping down and drawing blood. It hurts.

[Darqueone]

"@)(*)_@*!_($)(*!&@!)(*&@ !!!!!!!!" She flings the phone away, snapping her hand back and forth to dislodge it and starting to wonder if/how someone might have slipped her something. She runs for the button and hits it.

[Wired*Nun]

The light at the top starts flashing and a recorded voice tells her that the police have been notified.

"It's no good, you know," remarks a high male voice behind her. "You're still going to die."

She whirls to see a dwarf wearing a red silk suit and cravat, reminding her of a Munchkin from Oz.

[Darqueone]

Finally, she asks. "What the Fuck is Going On??!?!?!"

[Wired*Nun]

He calmly picks his nose, extracting an enormous booger and flicking it to land directly on the front of her jacket.

"It's Twilight Zone time, baby, and you're Rod Serling's date."

Just then, a roller pulls up with a squeal of brakes, lights flashing. She's never been so glad to see DC's finest. A big black man gets out of the blue-and-white, hitching up his belt before starting up the escalator, hand on his unsnapped holster. He speaks something indistinctly into the radio mike clipped near his lapel.

[Darqueone]

She starts screaming "HELP ME!!! HELP!!!!!" while staring at the gross little man, watching to see if he'll attack monk-style or just flip her off like the Mother of God.

[Wired*Nun]

The cop unhlsters his service weapon and runs up the escalator, then quarters the platform in a shooter's stance before walking swiftly in her direction. His eyes glance right and left even as he approaches her, looking for the danger she is screaming about.

The dwarf takes out a cigarrette case and pops a brown cigarillo in his mouth, offering her the case like an opened book, in both hands. "Smoke?" he asks.

The cop stops about twenty feet away, weapon pointed at the ground but still wary. "Ma'am? What seems to be the problem?" he asks, with that kind of concern that says he thinks it might be her.

[Darqueone]

"I..." she feels like shaking, almost sick with confusion "I... need help." She swallows, staring at the dwarf. "Do... do you see anyone else here?" she hates how pathetic and scared her voice sounds, but she acknowledges that it can't hurt her case with the cop. Please be Officer Friendly. she begs inside her head.

[Wired*Nun]

"Ahh...no, ma'am, just you and me. Everything's all right. Did you see someone?" He glances around again.

Another car pulls up to the curb, presumably the officer's backup. A slim young Hispanic gets out, looking around.

The dwarf puts away the cigarrette case, saying, "Suit yourself," and lights his smoke with a gold-plated Zippo. He then steps forward and kicks her in the knee. Pain explodes, and she falls to the ground.

The policeman yells reflexively, "Hey!" and swiftly holsters his weapon while grabbing at her with his free hand. He doesn't do a good job of either, and the handgun falls to the pavement, where the impact fires one shot. The officer, half holding onto her as they both fall to the hard concrete of the platform, flinches and gasps. "Buh..." he says, his face inches from hers, before he slumps unconscious. Tangled with the big man on the ground, she sees a pool of blood forming beneath on the surface under his ribs.

She hears an indistinct voice raised from off the platform, probably the other cop, and "Shots fired, shots fired!"

The munchkin takes a drag off his cigarrillo, then flicks it off to his side while staring down at her dispassionately.

"Oh, dear. Now look what you've done."

[Darqueone]

The cop didn't see him, and he didn't touch the cop... she thinks absently as she deals with the weight of the cop and the smell and feel of his blood. "Hey... officer? Hey?" she sounds inane even to herself, and holds the officer while trying not to move him overmuch. "Hey, can you hear me? Come on... talk to me?" she's remembering every cop-shot scene in a cop movie, horribly afraid the way her day is going that he's going to die. And, given the circumstances, she'll be blamed for it. Well... maybe there are no monks, midgets, or Madonnas in jail...

[Wired*Nun]

He's breathing, at least, but he remains unconscious. The other cop pokes his head warily out from where he's crouched behind the escalator rail, then stands up carefully and speaks into his mike, calling for an ambulance, officer down. He takes his weapon back in the standard two-handed grip and approaches carefully.

The little man puts the smoke back in his mouth and, using both hands, unzips his pants and begins to pee on her from an uncommon distance, aiming at her head.

[Darqueone]

"Help.....!" The exclaimation comes as the stream hits her "Oh for fuck's sake.....God damn it!!! Help!! HELP!" She waves at the approaching officer.

[Wired*Nun]

The cop keeps his sights on her as he circles, putting himself behind her and presumably eliminating the wounded officer as a shield.

More, she can't really work out, as the stream goes on and on. The taste and smell of the splashing urine is vile as she frantically tries to avoid it, throwing her head back and forth.

"Doo de doo doo, doo de doo doo, doo de doo doo," sings the little man. She recognizes the Twilight Zone theme.

He's finally done, but now she's soaked and miserable. She can barely see the cop behind her, even twisting her head around, and her eyes are tearing.

More sirens and lights, and three more officers and a pair of EMTs come pounding up the escalator.

"Oh, my, that's quite a crowd. This might be fun," he remarks, taking out a small box from his coat and setting it on the ground. When he flips up the lid, a stream of spiders emerge, and make a beeline for her head.

[Darqueone]

She freaks, screaming and flailing and knocking the wounded cop off her, sliding in his blood , scrambling away from the horrible, hideous dwarf and towards the standing cop, staying down on the ground so at least he doesn't have to put her there. Her purse is under the wounded cop. She's covered in blood and worse, on the ground, perhaps drugged and definately not going in to work tomrrow.

[Wired*Nun]

The EMTs rush for the wounded cop, while the other ones wait until they surround her, then grab her and roll her over and struggle with her. All the while, the spiders climb up her body and run over her face, crawling into her nostrils. She can feel them climbing into her sinus cavities and ears, and the officers have to cuff her and sit on her to get her under control.

The next thing she knows, she awakens in restraints inside an ambulance. A man and a woman in ice cream uniforms sit beside her...and the disgusting little man is perched on the end of the gurney between her feet.

"Dum dee dum dum dum dee dum," he sings dramatically the Jeopardy theme this time. "Alex, I'd like Lunatics for 600 please. What? Another box? For Anastasia? Oh, I couldn't!" He pulls out another box and lays it between her knees.

[Darqueone]

Lots and lots of screaming. And attempts at kicking and thrashing.

[Wired*Nun]

The smell of alcohol, a sting, and the world goes away for a while.

When she wakes up, she's in a straitjacket, restrained in a hospital bed in a tawdry room with old fixtures. There's a lamp in the corner with low, indirect lighting Thankfully, there's no itty bitty tormenter any more.

At least, none that she can see.

[Darqueone]

Anna takes a few pancked breaths and nervous jerky movements before realizing she's (relatively) alone. Then she works at calming her self, whispering over and over... "S'ok, s'ok.... s'ok..." When she can breathe normally and possess herself, she looks around for some way to summon a nurse or someone. Anyone who's not weird, at least.

[Wired*Nun]

There's a call button under her hand, which she pushes. A no-nonsense-looking African-American nurse, in her forties and heavy, walks in a moment later, coming over to stand a bit out of hand's reach.

"How ya doin' honey?" Her eyes are concerned, but wary.

[Darqueone]

Near tears, Anna sighs and tries to smile. "Scared." her voice raspy "I think someone slipped me something. I don't know how. I ...saw things. Bad things." Tears escape. "Please help me."

[Wired*Nun]

"Well, it's gon' be all right now."

Two big men come into the room in those awful white uniforms, and stand by.

"Now I'm gon' take off these restraints, you gonna be a good girl?" In any other circumstances Anastasia would take issue with her condescending tone, but there is an undercurrent of warning that reminds her that these people have her in their power...and, she grudgingly admits to herself, rightly so.

[Darqueone]

"Yes. I really want to be. I'm sorry. Is that policeman alright? I don't want to hurt anyone. If I freak out, please stop me." She's almost babbling in relief and fear. "I see things, and they scare me, they're awful, can I have a bath please? They're dirty and bad and mean and I don't want to be afraid but it's so bad..."

[Wired*Nun]

"All right, now you just calm down, you can talk to the doctor about all that. I'm just here to make sure you all right." She releases one of the hand restraints, then waits to see if Ana is going to do anything dangerous. She then releases the other one, the two burly men hovering nearby.

"All right, I'm gonna raise up your bed now so you can sit up. Do you like TV? I can turn on the TV if you like." The men move to raise the back of the bed so she's in a sitting position.

She realizes she's dressed in a hospital gown now.

[Darqueone]

Anna makes the effort to calm herself, realizing that she's babbling. "May I have a bath, or... clean up? I feel... gross." She goes for understatement.

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, we cleaned you up when you was out, sugar. After you talk to the doctor, maybe he'll let you take a shower. First things first."

They finish sitting her up, and the nurse checks her pulse and blood pressure. One of the men retires to the back of the room while the other goes out the door. A moment later, another man - must be the doctor - comes in. He's in his mid-thirties, caucasian, with an open face and smiling eyes.

"Hey, you ya doing, there, Anastasia? I'm doctor Marks. Feeling a little better? You gave everyone quite a fright. Did you drink anything or take any drugs recently, Anastasia?"

The nurse nods and goes out of the room, but the orderly waits.

[Darqueone]

Anna sighs, relaxing as she's tended. When the doctor enters she listens to his question, then shakes her head. "I don't really drink, sir, and I don't do drugs. I think someone might have slipped me something. Did anyone do a blood test on me? It was like I was hallucinating. I saw... things." She pauses, swallows. "It was ...really bad."

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes, I did a quick tox screen for the obvious ones - PCP, meth - but I didn't find anything. Full lab work will take 24 to 48 hours. It's always easier if we know what we're looking for." He pauses, as if to give her a chance to confess something, then goes on.

"Has anything like this ever happened before? Any history of mental illness or seizures in your family? Anything at all? I'm on your side, Anastasia. Contrary to popular belief, we don't like to keep people in these facilities."

[Darqueone]

Anna sighs, thinking. "My father was an alcoholic, he died years ago, though. One reason I don't really drink." She pauses, thinking. "My mother's an actress, but I dont' remember any seizures really." a faint offering to Humor, which sees us through all. "No. I didn't take any drugs that I know of, I didn't have any alcohol, and I don't know of any mental illness or seizures. Could it be...a tumor?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Let's not go speculating until we have more facts, all right? Any headaches lately? Nausea?" He runs through a litany of prospective maladies, each one bringing a negative response.

"All right, let's get you out of these things and take you down to radiology." After taking off the leg cuffs, they get her a wheelchair and insist she use it to transport her down to the lab. On the way, they stop at the nurses' station. "Is there anyone you want to notify about your admittance here? Karen, do you have her purse?"

"Sure, doctor, I have it in one of the lockers," replies the nurse on duty there. She goes down the hall for a moment and comes back with Anastasia's purse, placing it in her lap.

[Darqueone]

Anna behaves like a star, and looks at her purse a long moment before shaking her head. "No, thank you... unless I need my wallet in radiology?" with a faint smile. "My older brother, though. If you could call him?" She gives him the parish house number and his name. "Anthony Dankov. Tell him what happened? If you think he needs to come here, or... well, whatever. Thank you."

[Wired*Nun]

"Sure, sweetie, I'll call him," promises Karen.

They head on down the hall and through a locked door, out of the psych ward and into the regular section, then to the elevators where they go from the second to the ground floor. Anastasia feels much better as she observes the bustle of a hospital at work. The clocks on the wall say it's 11:40 am, and she glimpses light outside, so it must be the next day after her misadventure. She sees "Washington DC Health and Hospital" above the wall directory.

Inside the imaging lab, she is subjected to a battery of tests, which take about two hours. While she is waiting for the results, a woman from Accounting comes over and takes down her insurance information. She blesses her own good fortune to have a full-time job with health benefits, no matter that it doesn't pay well. The thought of getting billed for use of all this technology horrifies her, and for the first time, she appreciates the fact that EuroClassic is a sub of the much larger import-export corporation "General Ordering and Delivery."

[Darqueone]

During her wait-time, she allows her mind to drift back over those parts of the previous evening before the hallucinations began, trying to find somewhere or something that could have put drugs in her. She remembers saying good night to Walt, locking the store, counting down the tills, pulling the gate to halfway, turning the front of store lights off... and the last customer of the day. Mystery Man; Emerson... Crumball? Crumbun? Cromwell?

[Wired*Nun]

As she meticulously goes over her actions, she just can't think of anything that she did out of the ordinary. No drinks, no funny smells. Contact poison on the money? The Mystery Man did wear gloves...I wonder if Walt was affected, seeing as he check-counted the money from the register...

Doctor Marks brings her to a different room, a God-be-thanked normal hospital room, if sterile and empty. He looks a bit stiff, and is solicitous as he holds her hand, assisting her from the wheelchair to sit up in the bed. Physically, she feels fair to middling, if emotionally exhausted. "Just wait here a bit while I...collate." Something in his face...

He leaves, and a few moments later, the welcome sight of her brother Anthony and his collar peeks around the doorjamb. "Hey, squirt. How ya doin'?"

[Darqueone]

"Tony!" her concern at the doctor's face is wiped out momentarily by her brother's welcome face. She hugs him as he comes over. "I've had a really bad day." she whispers, hugging him tight. "I think someone drugged me, but I've got no idea how, and I think a cop died and they might say I did it, but I don't think I did, and... "she stops, and just hugs him.

[Wired*Nun]

He hugs her back, for a long time. "Yes, I got the whole story from the doctor...the police officer isn't dead, thank God. Listen, Sissy..." He sits down on the edge of the bed, her hands in his. "There's something you have to know." He blinks, then takes a deep breath.

"Sissy, they found something in your brain. A growth. There's no reason to panic; you've got some of the best in the world in this area - Johns Hopkins, Bethesda - and you know I'll be speaking humbly but firmly to Saint Rita. And if she isn't insistent enough, I'll talk to the Father on the open-door policy. We'll see you through."

[Darqueone]

She takes a deep breath, then exhales...it trembles, and her eyes fill with tears. "S'ok." she whispers "I just... glad it's not ... something someone did to me. Glad no one else go hurt." She takes and holds his hand. "Pray with me?" And as they pray, the tears fall.

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, Lordy, how we gonna pray." She always laughed when he went into mock-gospel mode, and she can't help it now, through the tears.

Earnestly, for an unknowable time, he prays for her, changing among Latin and English, then French and German, their shared languages. As they pray, Anastasia sees a figure form on the far wall, of the Holy Mother. This time, she raises both hands in motherly blessing, and her smile comforts Anastasia as even the presence of her faithful older brother can't. She is filled with wonder for a moment, seeing evidence beyond the life so shallow. I don't care if it's a hallucination; I know she's there. I'll be all right.

[Darqueone]

Her breathing, which speeds at first sight of the apparition in fear of returning hallucinations, slows and calms. God is not the source of fear, or confusion. God brings peace, understanding, and grace she remembers. Amen. She responds to her heart. Let it be according to His Will.

[Wired*Nun]

The vision fades, and Tony finishes with a blessing for her. Never did this ritual seem so real, so personal. The things we take for granted as we go from day to day, from Mass to Mass...He lookes into her eyes and smiles...then his eyes widen.

"You're...radiant, Ana! What is it?"

[Darqueone]

She blinks at her brother, wondering if it would sound crazy to tell him I saw the Mother of God, but this time she was nice. "Um... I think your mojo worked, Tony." she offers him a small smile. "Good praying." and she squeezes his hand.

[Wired*Nun]

For a moment he looks like he's going to make a joke, but just replies, "Yeah." He tightens his hands around hers.

"Well, let's get the doc in here, and talk about things. We have some big days ahead of us." He stands up, giving her hand one last squeeze, then walks tentatively out of the room, looking right and left.

A few moments later he returns with Doctor Marks. His face is friendly, warm and caring. He's with another doctor, older, tall, heavy, balding, who stands back a bit. Marks speaks first.

"Hello again, Anastasia. I'm sorry to have had to be the one to discover this situation, but it's good we did find out. We have an opportunity to take some aggressive measures early, and your prognosis is reasonably good. I'm not going to lie to you; the situation is serious. The good news is, I have some very close friends who fight these things for a living, and they are very, very good at what they do. You have your brother here to help you out. I'm told you have excellent coverage, so you should have no financial worries. I've gotten in touch with your employer, and informed them of the situation. So now, you have only one thing to focus on, and that's beating this thing. Are you ready to do that?"

[Darqueone]

"Yes, sir, I am." she sits up, composing herself. She's still trembling a little, but at least it's not fear she was attacked; this is nervousness at the new world she finds herself in. She comforts herself that the adrenaline will fade.

[Wired*Nun]

"All right. This is Doctor Franzhoudia. He's one of our oncologists, and he's here to talk specifics. I'm going to go look in on some other folks, but if you need me, just ask someone to find me." The psychiatrist leaves to go back to his other duties.

"Hi, Anasatsia. Call me Doctor Franz; everyone else does. Let me tell you something about what we found out."

He launches into an explanation of her condition; she has a tumor putting pressure on her temporal lobe, causing the hallucinations she experienced. It appears to be growing, though that doesn't mean it's malignant, per se. Benign tumors grow too, but they generally grow internally and encapsulated, rather than metastasizing and invading other tissue. They won't know until they do more tests - serology, biopsy, more imaging.

He's polite, but a bit detached and clinical. I suppose oncologists have to be that way...I've heard it's one of the hardest specialties, since they tend to do a lot of work with terminal people. He works with her to set up a schedule of procedures, and then leaves her with Anthony, telling her he will work with Dr. Marks to prescribe a preliminary regimen of drugs to reduce the chance of another hallucinatory incident and boost her immune system.

[Darqueone]

Anna tries to follow the information, glad that Anthony is there to hear it with her. She asks one question "Doctor, what happens if the hallucinations come back?"
After the doctor leaves, she sits back, regarding her brother. "Soooo... I guess we're back in your court now. What do you say to the person with a brain tumor?" She squeezes his hand "I'd understand if you wanted to recommend someone else, though. Like, they don't let doctors operate on their relatives, right?"

[Wired*Nun]

She asks one question "Doctor, what happens if the hallucinations come back?"

"Well, though that's not my area of specialty, the medications should help with that. I suggest you try to not be alone, and immediately get in touch with Marks if something happens."

"Soooo... I guess we're back in your court now. What do you say to the person with a brain tumor?"

In the voice of Igor from Young Frankenstein, he replies, "Oi guess we have to find you ay nother broin. From Abby...sombody..."


"I'd understand if you wanted to recommend someone else, though. Like, they don't let doctors operate on their relatives, right?"


"Fortunately that doesn't strictly apply to the priesthood. Not like my hand could slip and cut the wrong blood vessel. It's up to the monsignor, but I think he'll give me the leeway, as long as I don't neglect my duties. I'll see about a leave of absence. We'll also see about round-the-clock care, at least until we're fairly sure you won't have another attack."

"So, would you like to stay at your own place, or move in with me for a while? I have enough room..."

[Darqueone]

"I don't think I want to risk being alone. In case of another, you know. Seizure. But I don't want you to get into trouble, having a woman live with you." She grins, but is serious. "Check with the Monsignor first? Then we'll decide." She signs and leans back. "I guess I might get mad about being sick, later... but for now I'm just glad I'm not psychotic or the victim of a drive by drugging." She thinks again briefly of Mystery Man. "It's been a weird day."

[Wired*Nun]

"You're family. I'm pretty sure there are no celibacy issues."

He looks inquisitive at her "wierd day" comment. He lowers his voice. "What do you mean? Is there something you haven't said?

[Darqueone]

She shrugs. "Work was blah, except for this one guy. I was wondering if he might have been the one who drugged me, and how, but I wasn't drugged, soo..." she shrugs again "...guess not." At his look she explains "He comes in every few months, he buys the same exact things, he pays with hundreds, he looks... kinda grown-up-Goth, and he never says anything. Except last night. He asked what my surname was. I didn't tell him, 'course." She pauses, thinking "When he left, after that... he said I should get in touch if anything happened. Huh." she ponders.

[Wired*Nun]

Tony looks nonplussed for a long minute.

"Well. If we believe in miracles and revelation...we have to wonder if something was revealed to him. Or he sensed something amiss. You know, they have cancer dogs now? Trained to smell it before machines can see it." He reaches up to stroke his face, where he's worn a beard from time to time.

"Maybe we should. You know the story about the man in the flood?"

[Darqueone]

She laughs, not entirely without bitterness. "So I should have gotten a dog before all this?" But she grins "I sent you two rowboats and a helicopter?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Yeah. That's the one. You must have heard some of my homilies. But I mean...what can it hurt? Crackpot or saint...do you want to sit and wonder for - ahh, about it?"

[Darqueone]

She blinks at him. "What, you want me to call him?"

[Wired*Nun]

"I don't know. Not now. And how can you call him? I just mean, once this day is over, and we get other things taken care of...that's all. I must admit, you've got me curious." He's trying to take my mind off things...distract me with a puzzle.

[Darqueone]

"Well, he said he was staying at the.... the Penguin. So I guess if I had to I could look him up there. But yeah. Maybe later." She shrugs, yawns. "So. How was your day?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Now that you mention it, mine was a little wierd, too. Before all this, I mean. Your situation drove everything out of my mind."

He puts his smile back on. "Anyway, when we emptied the boxes this morning, we found a rather substantial donation inside one of them. A block of bills, wrapped and sealed in plastic. We called the police to take a look, in case it was stolen or lost money. They sent over a couple of detectives, took a look, wrote down some serial numbers, told us to lock it in the safe and don't touch it until they get back with us. So, it's still there. Looks like a hundred thousand dollars. That will help get us solvent, if it turns out not to be illicit."

"Then, Missy Tana died today. You may not remember me mentioning her. She was ninety-three, everybody's granny. Volunteered for everything, energetic and involved right up to the end. When I go out, I hope I'm doing as well." He pauses to rub at his eyes.

"She has - had - a live-out housekeeper that came in every day to help her with things, and she found her lying there in her bed, smiling like she had a secret. Nothing wierd about all that, but...she had a white rose in her hands folded over her chest, as if someone had placed it there, or she prepared herself for her own vigil and funeral."

[Darqueone]

"Wow..." Anna is impressed. "Maybe there's something weird going around?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Perhaps. Though Walpurgisnacht isn't for a few weeks yet. Hey, let's get you dressed and get outahere, whattaya say?" He points at the closet, where her work clothes from last night are visible hanging in dry-cleaning plastic. "I'll check about the drugs." He backs out of the room, smiles at her, and closes the door.

[Darqueone]

"What, I just get to walk out of here?" as he goes "No interview with the cops? Some episode of Law & Order this is..." she swings her legs over the side and tries her balance, moving eventually to her things.

[Wired*Nun]

"That's on the schedule, I'm sure."

She feels fine, more or less. She feels much better with her clean clothes on and purse in her hand, despite her bruises. The one on her knee where the dwarf kicked her is particularly painful.

When she signals she's done, Doctor Marks comes back in. "I'm prescribing you a mild antidepressant, a mild antipsychotic, and on behalf of the oncology department, some blood pressure medicine which should buy you some time by reducing the pressure inside your head. But they tell me they will need to start some intervention within a week. Doctor Franz will be doing some consults with some folks over at Johns Hopkins, get the best consensus we can. We'll get in touch with you in a day or two. In the meantime, no stress, no exercise, no work. Do something relaxing. All right?"

[Darqueone]

"Yes Sir." she answers, taking the scripts. "I'm going to stay with my brother for a while."

[Wired*Nun]

"That sounds great. Here's my card, call me any time if you have concerns. They'll page me after hours. Pharmacy's down the hall. I'll see you later." He smiles a more-than-professional smile - or maybe he's just really good at it - and walks back into the hospital.

Anthony is waiting outside, and they pick up the meds and go out to his car, a somewhat dilapidated Taurus. "I leave the Ferrari in the garage. Bad for my image," he jokes.

DC traffic isn't too bad yet; they soon pull into the parking lot at her apartments. Opening her door, she feels that sense of unreality that comes from being away too long, though it was only one day.

[Darqueone]

Anna shakes her head to clear it, and with Anthony she heads up to her apartment. She keeps situational awareness around her as she heads up the stairs and opens her apartment... just in case.

[Wired*Nun]

No dwarfs inside. Whew. Everything seems fine, except for a message from Walt on her machine. She realizes she hasn't turned on her cell phone either.

[Darqueone]

Anna looks around for something to pack in, settling for a black gym duffle bag. She picks out clothes and shoes with one hand as she keys her cell phone on. "I guess I'm packing... for a week? And then we'll see?" she calls out to her brother in the kitchen.

[Wired*Nun]

The cell phone has no messages on it, either. There was one missed call, from an unfamiliar 703 number.

She packs up what she needs for a week, while Tony putters round and puts together lunch. She suddenly realizes she's rabidly hungry.

Near the end of the meal, the phone rings. It's a DC PD Detective Sergeant Jan Brady. "Yes that's really my name," she says before being asked. "Can you come down in to the precinct at 100 42nd St. NE? DC's handling the matter instead of Capitol Heights since it took place at a Metro Station."

[Darqueone]

"Yes, Ma'm." Anna says. "I'm in the process of getting ready for... well, home-care during the next few weeks. What time do you want to meet?" She pushes her empty plate towards Tony with a grin, mumuring "The police, want a meeting."

[Wired*Nun]

Tony grimaces theatrically. "Render unto Caesar. Since you will have the...medical situation to back you up, there shouldn't be any trouble in the long run, I shouldn't think."

The detective is direct. "As soon as you can make it. I'm off at seven, back on in the morning at nine, if you can't come in today. I'd really like to see you when everything's fresh in your mind."

[Darqueone]

"Hang on just a minute Detective..." she puts a hand over the reciever "Can we do it on the way to your place? She says sooner is better."

[Wired*Nun]

"Of course. Let's get it done with. Did you take your meds?"

They finish up and put the apartment in order, then drive over to the precinct house. DS Brady is a non-nonsense woman of about 5'6", compact, short blondish hair. Her face looks tired, and if she put on makeup this morning, it's long since worn off.

She motions them to sit on the gray vinyl-and-steel government-issue chairs in front of her desk. She sets a yellow legal pad on the desk in front of her. "So, please, just tell me in your own words what you remember."

[Darqueone]

Anna does, sparing nothing. She is sheepish and apologetic at times, and prefaces the whole thing by explaining her medical condition and warning "...so this story is likely to sound pretty crazy; but, you asked what I remember..."

[Wired*Nun]

"That's no problem.Believe me, I've heard just about everything in this job. You wouldn't believe how often Harvey has told people to do bad things."

She listens, writing furiously, and has Ana read over and sign the report. Where Anastasia went into detail, the detective wrote such things as "Subject experienced hallucinations." After reading it, it all seems dry and distant, very factual and non-frightening.

"Now, after we get the medical report, the review board will issue a ruling. Until then, you're still a POI - person of interest - and you need to stay available. You're not intending to take any trips, are you?"

"She's going to be staying at my place in Catonsville," answers her brother for her. "Here's my home and pager number." The detective also gets Ana's cell phone number, then sends them on their way with a pro forma "Thanks for coming in."

"I guess they've already informally concluded it wasn't your fault," Anthony remarks as they walk to the car. "That's a relief. I bet they don't want too much attention shown to the fact that the officer essentially shot himself with his own weapon, no matter what the circumstances."

[Darqueone]

"Believe me, that midget was a bad mutha." Anna says (not without humor). "Ok..." she sits back in the car seat "Let's get somewhere and settle. I think I could use some quiet time."

[Wired*Nun]

"Well, next time you see him, tell him to look me up. I'd like to have a few words with him," he returns.

They get into the car and head for the B-W Parkway. Ana leans back in the seat and closes her eyes, suddenly very fatigued from the events of the past evening and day. She realizes she's been running on adrenaline. She drifts off, and only awakes when she feels the car change from steady driving to the bumpier surface streets and stoplights.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs an' bakey. We're almost there. Did you have a nice nap?"

[Darqueone]

"Yeah, thanks." She sits up and rubs the crick out of her neck, blinking to get a look around. "Sooo... what's the deal at your place? Never slept over at a priest's." She grins.

[Wired*Nun]

"Deal? It's a condo. The old rectory is used for other things now - homeless sheltering, asylum seekers. No free lunches any more." He smiles. "What the heck, I took a vow of poverty. I don't need much."

They turn off on a side-street, past a Wendy's and a laudromat. "I'll rearrange my office and pull out the sofa-bed. I had visions of havening troubled teens, before the whole pedophile-priest thing broke. Now...bad idea jeans. It's disheartening. Hard to overcome that sort of hypocrisy and sin." He sighs.

"Here it is." He pulls into the parking lot of a small complex of modest condos. It looks like they used to be apartments, then were converted in the real-estate boom. It's quiet.

[Darqueone]

She nods. "Yeah, I know." It's a conversation her whole family has had before, the recent outrages within the Church; she knew it was a painful topic for Tony. They grab her bags and she follows him in, dropping things in the office and helping him set the room up. She takes her toiletry kit into the bathroom, finds a space for it. She yawns. "Man...."

[Wired*Nun]

"Why don't you rest now. You've had a hell of a day, and I say that with all due accuracy. I should walk over and check in with Father Darwin, fill him in that I'll be taking care of you, then I'll be back." He zips up his jacket, then goes out the door.

The sofa-bed looks very inviting right now. She looks over the small spare bedroom-cum-office - computer, papers, many books on a wide range of subjects. Tony always was a voracious reader. She sees theology, eschatology, demonology, physics, cosmology, natural history, philosophy, fiction...her head begins to ache a bit, and she feels dehydrated too. Or maybe they're related. Drugs tend to do that.

[Darqueone]

Anna gets a tall container of ice water, something with a straw or cap that will let her have it in bed without running a big risk of spilling it. Then she checks her meds, makes sure there's nothing she should take now, and curls up in bed with a random book picked off the shelves. She flips through it, sipping her water, until she feels loggy enough to put both book and water down, and rest.

[Darqueone]

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz......

[Wired*Nun]

She happens to grab Heron's "The Nephilim and the Pyramid of the Apocalypse". The premise seems a bit farfetched, about prehistory and the possibility of advanced beings coming to live among humans - "Chariots of the Gods" stuff. She makes it through the introduction and the first chapter before going under.

She wakes later on to the glow of a lamp from the small living room and the smell of take-out Italian. Tony has retrieved his laptop from the office and has it in his lap on the sofa, tap-tapping on its cramped keyboard.

"Hey, sissy. How're you feeling?"

Other than a bit of grogginess, not too bad it seems.

[Darqueone]

Yawning and stretching, tugging her hair into something semi-tamed, she wanders out. "What time's it?" as she drops onto the sofa near him. "Dinner?"

[Wired*Nun]

"It's about eleven," he says, waving vaguely at the clock on the stove. "There's some lasagne in the oven, still warm. Wasn't sure if you'd be getting up or sleeping through."

She's hungry and thirsty again, with still that feeling of deep fatigue that tells her she will have no problems sleeping again.

[Darqueone]

She laughs. "I wasn't either!" and goes to help herself to an unhealthy amount of lasagne. "I get a full stomach, I'm out for the night. I guess my meds say no wine?" she gets a big glass of water, and a smaller one of soda. "Whatcha doon?" as she plops back down. "Unless it's secret-priest stuff..."

[Wired*Nun]

"Umm yeah. I'm...I'm researching miraculous healings. Hey, you never know. Seems like you'd be a good candidate..." He stops, looking a bit sheepish.

"You know I've always been open to...extreme possibilities. I think God created a world that's far stranger than most people think, if we would just open our eyes. So who knows? Maybe...well, just maybe." He seems reluctant to say more.

[Darqueone]

She grins, a little sadly. "Tony... I don't think all this has sunk in yet. I'm feeling groggy. I feel... grateful I didn't have a psychotic break or something's wrong with me mentally. I'm not scared of the tumor... but I think I should be. I think, in the coming months, I'm going to freak right royally out. But I can't really connect to it yet." She takes a deep breath, exhales. "One thing I don't think, or feel, is that I'm a candidate for a miracle. Not a healing, not anything else. I'm no one special; my case isn't more desperate or holy. I'm a twenty-something mall worker without a college degree or a boyfriend. I attend Mass semi-regularly. I'm as faithful to God as I can be, but..." She leans over and hugs him. "Pray for me, that's all. Kay?"

[Wired*Nun]

"No, sis, I won't accept that." He turns to her, fiercely. "He takes mercy on whom He wills, not because you're some saint or something people would call extraordinary. Nobody merits the merit of Christ. We're his children, no matter how we wander. If you had children...or I, for that matter, we wouldn't love them or bless them based on their performance. I know there's a way. Faith without works is dead. So you know what? I'm going to find the way. Until and unless I get some unequivocal sign that your passing is ordained, I'm going to fight."

He takes her hands in his, tightly, earnestly. "What about you?"

[Darqueone]

She shakes her head. "Tony, I'm not saying I won't fight. I'm taking meds, I'm up for the doctors, all that. I'm asking you to pray for me, right? I'm a child of God and I'm not questioning His mercy or grace! I'm just saying that it might be up to us to find the way, not to look for a miracle. I think we're on the same sheet of music here."

[Wired*Nun]

He shakes her hands in his. "All right. All right. Eat your lasagne, get a good night's sleep. You want to turn on Leno? I'll keep after my research." He looks grimly determined, and a little haggard, now that she comes more awake. She remembers how he used to get sometimes, when he was younger - dogged, stubborn. He said tenacious. She imagined that, had he been born four centures before, he would have been slogging through the rain forest or jungle trying to bring the Word to the indigenes.

[Darqueone]

She sighs, and shakes her head. Apparently we're on the same sheet, but he has ear plugs in. She lets him be, though, and tucks into her pasta. After finishing, she yawns again, sleepily. "Hey... I think I'll just turn in. Again. Still sleepy, and sleep can't be bad at this point. YOU..." she pokes him "It's late, go to bed. It will all still be there in the morning, ok?" She puts her dishes in the sink in the kitchen and pads back to the office, now her room.

[Wired*Nun]

"Yeah, all right. Sleep tight." He bites his tongue, giving her a wink and a grin, then goes back to tappity-tap.

The morning comes early - her body thinks it's a workday, and she got plenty of sleep. , Tony's racked out on the couch, a little snore dribbling fron his nose. It looks like he was up a while after she went to bed. She sees Tony's laptop still running on the coffee table.

[Darqueone]

Anna glances at the laptop as she pulls a blanket over Tony and slips into the kitchen to make coffee, moving quietly.

[Wired*Nun]

She finds the page on top displaying http://freemasonrywatch.org/washington.html

There are other pages on other Explorer tabs, including

http://www.allaboutgod.com/faith-healing.htm

http://www.infidels.org/library/modern/paranormal/healing.html

http://www.medicinenet.com/brain_tumor/article.htm

http://www.tbts.org/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teratoma

http://cuttingedge.org/News/n1493.cfm

http://freemasonry.bcy.ca/anti-

http://freemasonry.bcy.ca/anti-masonry/washington_dc/washington_dc.html

There is also a map on which the location of the Old Post Office Pavilion is marked, and a link to this page: http://www.inner.org/sefirot/sefnetz.htm

[Darqueone]

Anna takes a quick lok at the tabs, mentally marking the Brain Tumor Society, the Wiki entry on Teratoma, and giving an inner shrug to the rest. Funny he's desperate and -I'm- the one that's sick... She goes about making coffee and getting breakfast ready.

[Darqueone]

She rumages through the cabnets, grunting with mingled disbelief and disappointment at finding cold cereal and milk as the best meal-makings. "Damn, don't priests eat, Tony?" she mutters to herself as she pours a bowl. After some additional searching, she manages to find the toaster and some bread, setting up toast. "At least there will be something warm. Ooo, besides coffee..." and she sets that up too, pausing to enjoy the smell of the brewing coffee. When the toast pops, she spreads it with margarine and pours a cuppa. She runs briefly back to what is now her room and checks her meds carefully, looking for anything she needs to take with food, or before food, or in the morning or... well, anything she needs to take. "I gotta come up with a written schedule, this whole thing could get wierd..." she murmurs to herself as she moves back with whatever she needs towards her breakfast. She settles down in the living room to munch breakfast, and consider the future. Hmm. The Penguin. Nah... just an odd old man who made a passing comment that in hindsight looks prophetic. Seriously. That kind of thing doesn't happen.

[Wired*Nun]

All the rummaging wakes up Tony, who waves at her while he stumbles into his bedroom to shower and change into fresh clothing. He comes back and smears some jam on his toast while pouring a glass of milk. "Gaah," he says as he tastes it, then pours it into the sink. "I need to shop for groceries, now that you're here." He gets a cup of coffee instead.

"I need to go over to the Diocese today - will you be all right here, or do you want to come with?"

[Darqueone]

Anna sniffs her bowl of cereal suspiciously and dumps it as well if it's funky. She eats the toast and coffee. "I guess I'll be fine here, but ... don't know what I'll do. I should call Walt, let him know what happened. Figure out if work needs any paperwork from me. Um." she shrugs "Wait to hear from the docs, make a medication chart... want me to do anything around here? I could do the shopping." she finishes hopefully.

[Wired*Nun]

"Hey, that would be great, but...you going to be all right on your own? I can get one of the junior Sisters to run you over as a favor to me, and just in case of...anything. Do anything you want, there's no password on my computer. Probably should be. I should be back in two hours or so. Then we can go to lunch - or eat from the groceries, whatever." He seems energetic and eager to tackle the day.

[Darqueone]

Anna grins. "Junior Sisters? Like, Juionr Spacemen? I'd kind of like to go shopping, really. If I get into trouble, I'm sure the cops will get in touch." she says, not without humor. "I'll get a shower, dressed, and get some stuff. Anything you want in particular?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Sometimes I think they are spacemen - full of go - go - go, not enough think - think - think. Not that I think everything through the way I should, either."

Anything you want in particular?"

"Oh, you know my proclivities. Starch, starch and more starch. If it weren't for tomato sauce I'd be vegetable-free. Fruit is good. Fresh pineapple, mmm. Get whatever you or I could conceivably cook, I guess."

While she showers and dresses, he cleans up the tiny kitchen and small living room. Soon they're out the door and down the street.

After making note of landmarks and making sure she knows his address for the taxi ride back, Tony drops her off at the strip mall with the Giant grocery store.
http://www.online-roleplaying.com/forums/images/coal/misc/progress.gif

[Darqueone]

Anna snorts. "Sometimes you think too much, brother mine. Ok, I'll get you potato chips and bread, or something."

At the store, she takes her time shopping, filling the basket with different foods as suits her taste for variety and balance. She calls a cab as she gets in line to check out.

Back at the apartment, she puts things away, does any dishes that need doing, and then calls Walt.

"Hey, Walt... listen, I've had something happen. Oh. They did? Oh, right, for the paperwork and insurance and stuff. No, no problem. Yeah, ok now. No, they gave me meds and there are doctors going to call and set up appointments and stuff. At my brother's in Catonsville, near Ballmer. Well, I kinda don't know till I talk to the, what is it... oncologist, right? Oh, I'll keep you updated. No problem. Hey, I appreciate it. Thank you, Walt. I'll call you soon, ok? Yeah, you too."

[Wired*Nun]

"The curse of a Jesuit education, I supposed. Despite leaving that society, casuistry remains."

When he drops her off, he hugs her and reminds, "I've got my cell."

She's almost done shopping when she sees a small-statured flash of red. Her gut tightens and her heart rate jumps, until she sees it's a boy in a crimson basketball jersey.

Turning back around with a sigh of relief, she bumps into a solidly-built woman of about thirty years old, sandy brown hair and too much makeup. The woman looks down her nose at Ana and says, "watch where you're going, bitch!" She stands there in an attitude of belligerence, and she has seen too many movies to believe that this was an accident. For some reason, this woman wants a confrontation.

[Darqueone]

"You're right; I don't see how I could have missed you. Sorry about that." comes out of her mouth before she thinks about it. She offers a slightly overly-friendly smile, with perhaps too much teeth. She tries to compensate by taking a step or two back, and allowing the woman to choose her response.

[Wired*Nun]

As she steps back, there's something behind her knees, just like the boys used to do in grammar school by crouching behind a victim. She tumbles backward, falling onto her back and looking over her own knees to see the crimson-clad dwarf staring at her with glee.

"Hey, this seems familiar," he cries, standing up then rubbing his hands together theatrically. "You can hide, but you can't run!"

The woman behind the dwarf has a similarly cruel smile on her face as she stands, hands on hips.

[Darqueone]

"Oh for f*ck's sake!" pops out when she sees the little devil and she kicks out hard at him while starting to shout "HELP! DOCTOR! HELP, WE NEED HELP HERE! CALL 911!!!!!!"

[Wired*Nun]

Her heel goes into his crotch with an "Oof," and he backs up. "Good one, Annie girl! That's the spirit!" The dwarf vanishes into thin air and the woman blows Ana a kiss before turning to lumber away.

Other people are looking curiously at the situation, and a store manager in a green shirt and nametag that says "Bob" rushes over with his hands out, saying, "Miss, are you all right? What's happened?"

[Darqueone]

"No..." shaking "I need a doctor. Please call my brother, his number's in my cell. Tony. Call 911. I need to go to the hospital." Anna squinches her eyes shut and tries to control her trembling. Somewhere in the back of her head she recognizes her need for an alert bracelet with her condition and meds on it.

[Wired*Nun]

The store manager takes the cell phone while a woman puts her coat under Ana's head. He calls 911 first, getting an ambulance dispatched. Then he calls Tony, and says when he's done, "Your brother is on his way."

The ambulance gets there in a few minutes, and after quick checks, they load her on a gurney and drive off. One of the attendants says, "I'm gonna put an IV in you, miss. Just relax."

The man slips the needle into her hand, and in a couple of minutes she's feeling better, and fades out of consciousness.

*****************************************

She wakes up feeling she was run over by a truck. Her head is a basketball, and one eye is covered in bandages. She seems to be in a hospital room, and someone comes into view. Her vision is blurry, but it seems to be a woman in white. Must be a nurse or doctor.

"Hi sweetie," says a syrupy voice from the blur. "How are you feeling?"

[Darqueone]

Something is...wrong. "What...happened?" she says, trying to focus.

[Wired*Nun]

A laugh. "You died, sweetie. But you're all better now. Fanny fixed you right up."

[Darqueone]

Anna clears her throat, tries again. "I...what? No. Just a... seizure. I have... a cancer. Got meds. Where's... Tony?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, now sweetie, you don't have cancer any more. We took that out." The woman sits on the edge of her bed and runs a finger up Ana's bare arm. There is an electric feel to the touch, literally like a mild current. Ana's hair stands up and a hum sets into her ears.

Ana can see the woman's face now, but she's never seen it before. She's a beautiful, but hard-looking woman, wearing a white dress rather than anything associated with a hospital.

"I know this is going to be tough for you, but you're going to have to get used to some new things...and pay us back for saving your life, and getting rid of the demons."

[Darqueone]

Anna instinctively moves her arm away for the woman. "Demons? Look, you're freaking me out. I want my brother. I want to talk to my doctor. Now."

[Wired*Nun]

The woman grasps Ana's arm and digs her nails in. At the same time, there comes a shock through the hand like sticking her finger in a light socket, throwing a jolt through her arm.

"Do what you're told and you might see him. Screw around, and maybe he'll be experiencing last rites a little early...understand?"

[Darqueone]

Anna gasps at the shock, then growls "Go to hell yourself" and shoves the woman, moving her legs at the same time to knock her off the bed and, preferably, on her big fat butt. She looks around the room, searching for her belongings, the door, any given hospital phone, or a general sense of the place she's in. In any order.

[Wired*Nun]

Something strange - stranger? happens now. When Ana shoves the woman, she gasps and falls to the ground. The room spins crazily and her brain feels like it's rattling around in her skull, but she has the satisfaction of seeing the woman on the ground in evident pain.

This success is short-lived, however, as the woman turns over in place, raising an open palm toward Ana. There is a blinding flash - from the hand? and pain explodes in her body. She loses consciousness again.

Coming awake again, she finds herself with two eyes functioning this time. She sees an IV in her arm, and padded restraints on her arms and legs, and one across her middriff. No one is in the room this time.

Looking around, she thinks there is something funny about this hospital room. The door is too narrow, the bed she's in isn't hospital standard, there are nice lamps instead of overhead flourescents...it's either a fancy private place, or not a hospital at all.

[Darqueone]

Ok, that's it... I'm in real trouble here. The grocery guy said he called Tony... but I don't know if he can find me. She tests her restraints, and takes a few deep, calming breaths. I need to be cool till I can get out of here...

[Wired*Nun]

Some interminable time later - probably no more than an hour - the door opens and a man walks into the room.

Clean-shaven, he has black hair and wears a beautifully-tailored suit. Darkly handsome, he radiates charisma like a movie star. Ana immediately feels drawn to him from a strange combination of bad-boy charm and fatherly concern. She feels much better now that he's here.

Another man comes into the room, superficially similar but wearing black jeans and a black turtleneck. They might be related, or maybe both are just of dark Mediterranean stock. Something protrudes from over the man's shoulder, slung on his back, but she doesn't pay much attention in the presence of the other, fascinating one.

The man in the suit walks over to her bedside, saying, "My name is Justin Orabono. Let's get you out of these things, shall we? Are you going to stay calm if I do?" He nods at the other man, who nods back. Jason begins to open the buckles, starting with the one across her middle. When his fingers brush her stomach, she feels a kind of butterfly thrill, and something in her wishes he would touch her more.

[Darqueone]

Times like this, I really wish I had a boyfriend... the thought is enhanced with the physical memories of unmet needs. She remains quiet and pliant, with a sense of deja vu. I might have to look into buying my own straitjacket instead of always renting...

[Wired*Nun]

"Good girl." Patronizingly. Ana wants to please this wonderful rescuer, to make him happy.

He releases her from restraints and takes her hand. When he does, she feels a thrill at his touch. The man gasps and crumples to the ground, still holding tight to her fingers. He looks as if he's in pain with cramps, and he grasps his middriff. His hand tightens painfully onto her hand for a long moment, then he lets go.

"Oh, my," he says between gasps. "Here, let's try that again." He helps her out of the bed, taking her elbow this time to support her, to sit her in a cushy chair, then throws a blanket over her. He's so caring, so wonderful, is all she can think.

"Would you like something to drink or eat? Don't worry, I'll answer all your questions shortly." He sits in a chair across from her, grabbing a throw blanket to spread across his lap.

[Darqueone]

She frowns, worried that she might have hurt him with her hand... but he seems ok, and he's not upset at her. She nods mutely when for food and drink, and is happy just to sit near him, able to see him and spend time with him.

[Wired*Nun]

"Coffee? Tea? Chocolate? Soup?" His accent is urbane, slightly European - Italian name, maybe a little Italian? Whatever she asks for is brought.

"Pardon my associate. Fanny is a bit coarse. It's all right, I will keep her from you until you are strong enough to stand up to her."

[Darqueone]

Anna whispers, muttering "Soup, please? And... Coffee?" She smile shy and grateful at his offer of protection. Something in the back of her mind wonders at her attitude, but... it's not important. "Thank you."

[Wired*Nun]

The man calls over his shoulder in Palermo-accented Italian, "Minestrone and coffee for two, please, Charles." He pronounces the unseen servant's name "Sharles." It seems very natural for her to have understood.

"I know this is all very sudden for you, my dear. You had a terrible tumor in your head, that would have killed you. Those butchers at the hospital - " he spits out the word like it tastes bad - "might have damaged that lovely, lovely brain of yours. My doctor is much more...knowlegable, about human anatomy." He smiles again, and warm feelings flood her insides. She wonders whether she is falling in love again?

[Darqueone]

Again?

[Darqueone]

Anna shakes off the momentarily disturbing question; she'd thought she was in love, even if later experience shows differently. Even IF I was never in love before, I might be now. She returns her smile, and is happy to listen to that gorgeous accent.

[Wired*Nun]

"So, you will have to stay here for a few days to convalesce, until you are stronger. We will send word to your brother, so he will not be concerned. Ah, here we are." A formally-dressed servant - a butler? Brings in a tray of soup and coffee, with appropriate things to put in the hot liquids. He puts hers on a side table next to her chair. The smell is lovely.

So he's rich as well as handsome and caring. I'm so lucky.

[Darqueone]

I want..ed... to talk to Tony... The thought streaks across her mind and is gone. The food and drink entice her, but she waits, wanting him to be ready to eat with her. Rich, handsome, and caring... everything I ever wanted!

[Wired*Nun]

They eat and drink, other cuisine and viands, and have a lovely conversation. At the end of it, Ana is convinced all is well with the world, she is cured, and on her way to a new and brighter future. Jason leaves her to a good night, and she falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.

The next day she wakes to a cold feeling of fear. That woman is back, staring at her from the doorway, and she shrinks under her covers until Justin returns, shooing her away. Her relief is overwhelming.

"Let me tell you something about your new life now, Ana," Jason says, sitting down on the edge of her bed and taking her hand in his. She notices absently he has gloves on this time.

"You are a special person now, much more so than before. Before, you were going to die of a horrible cancer. But I am a wealthy man, and I have developed some amazing new treatments to restore and grant the gift of life itself. Not only have I removed your cancer, but I have granted you an extraordinary gift."

He smiles, benevolently, and the world lights up. "You are going to stay young and pretty forever. And healthy. No more cancers. Isn't that wonderful?"

[Darqueone]

"It's... more than I dreamed of. The whole cancer thing, it's... it was always like a dream, I guess. Now... it's even better." she blushes, aware her words are so unsophisticated compared to Justin's. "Thank you."

[Wired*Nun]

"My, my. I didn't realize you spoke such good Italian," he remarks, his face lighting up. "You have the accent right, too; you have a wonderful gift!"

She realizes that, yes, she was speaking that language. It seemed like the natural thing to do, to want to please Justin and speak in his native tongue.

[Darqueone]

Anna frowns, puzzled... and of course, pleased that he is pleased with her. "Italian?" in a baffled tone "I speak a little German and French... I don't ... speak ... Italian." in contrary to the evidence.

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, but you do! You are speaking it now! It must be a side effect of the treatment we've given you. How marvelous!"

They prattle on with their conversation, talking about dreams and goals and suchlike. At the end of it she can't really remember much, but it is nice to be listened to and made feel safe and valued.

Justin comes and goes, for minutes or hours or days. She can't quite remember, or seem to keep her head. Sometimes she feels like she's in a fog; sometimes she feels like she is thinking clearly for the first time in her life.

Sometimes people come in and feed her, or check her vital signs. After a few sleeps, all the bandages are removed and someone comes in to do her hair. The scars from the operation seem to be almost all gone, and the haridresser shows her how to hide the small imperfections. A cosmetologist helps her with makeup, and she learns a few more things about color and tone and foundation, and and and...

Sometimes other people come in and speak different languages to her. She can always talk to them in their own tongue. Eventually Justin tells her that it looks like she can speak any language, that she is a true polyphone.

That seems nice. It's kind of wierd that everyone wears gloves around her, though. Sometimes they make her wear some, too.

She suffers thorugh the times Justin is not there, and wallows in the times he is. She dreams of the day they will be married and can share a bed. She is sure that this is her destiny.

One day, after several - maybe a week? He comes to her and tells her, "I am sorry, dear one, but I will not see you this evening. I have a great deal of work to do. But I will see you in the morning." He kisses her on the cheek, leaving her in sadness.

The evening is the same, lifeless and depressing without him. She watches television, then goes to bed early, knowing that when she wakes up, she will be a whole night closer to seeing him again.

***********************************************

Anastasia comes to with a sensation of recovering from an episode of drowning. Adrenaline shoots through her body, a feeling of near-panic.

What the hell has been going on? She switches on the television news, reading the date from the scrollbar at the bottom. Wednesday, March 21, 2007, 3:41 am. What have I been doing for a week?

Then, she remembers pieces of this incomprehensible span of time, and her infatuation with Justin Orabono. She still feels it, but more like for a broken love affair - nostalgia, longing, wistfulness, desire...but a certain amount of distance as well.

Maybe I was drugged...more hallucinations? They told me I was cured...was that a dream too?

[Darqueone]

This... thing. Whatever's happening... it f*cks with your mind. Cured or not, I have to get out of here. She watches the news, trying to keep her face blank as she thinks. I think I better assume that I'm watched and monitored. It will keep me careful, anyway. Ok. It's quarter of 4 in the morning. Too early to get up? She tries to remember the last week, her usual schedules and habits but the whole thing is still foggy. All right... maybe I'll just get up like I need to pee. Head in, take a minute to wash up and maybe think of a plan. As she rises, she tries to act natural and scopes the room out for her things, an escape route, a weapon... anything.

[Wired*Nun]

She doesn't remember getting up this early, not even to pee. But she doesn't remember not doing so. Looking casually around, she finds everything but her phone...and there isn't a phone in the room, either.

There's a brass statue of some half-clothed Greek god, small enough to hold with one hand and heavy enough to do some damage - maybe five pounds. There is only the one door, and she's not sure whether trying it would be prudent...but she'll have to at some time.

There are two cameras in the corners, and it looks like she could move from the bathroom door to the room door while only being seen at the periphery of the cameras...meybe she could try it that way.

[Darqueone]

Still going for "casual", she goes into the bathroom, scooping up her things as she does. She dresses as best she can, turning on the shower as she does. Halfway through she sticks her head in the shower to wet her hair. Then she pulls her pants legs up as high as they'll go, wraps a towel around her, and one over her shoulders to hide her clothes and go for the 'fresh showered' look. Then she covers her wet hair with a hand towel. Well, at least I feel more awake now. She reviews the room's layout again, planning to grab the statue on her way around the cameras and out the door. She pauses, looking at her hands for a moment... Something... he touched me, held my hands... he fell? I remember how his touch felt. Hm.
As ready as she'll ever be... she leaves the bathroom, playing "just washed" by toweling her hair as she scoops up the statue and heads for the door. If it's unlocked, she leaves.

[Wired*Nun]

Strangely, it is unlocked. What are the odds?

She sees a hallway. The the left are several more doors and a window. To the right, several doors and it opens into some kind of room. No one is in sight, and there is no noise beyond the quiet susurration of forced air heating. She is reminded of a very nice hotel, modern but made in a faux-country style.

[Darqueone]

She uses the hand towel to wrap the statue, thinking of a sap or blackjack on steroids. She goes left, figuring the window would give her some idea of what's out there at least. She moves calmly, looking for stairs, an exit sign or door, any way to get out of the building. Mail chute? Garbage drop?

[Wired*Nun]

The window overlooks manicured grounds. She can see a wall about fifty yards away past the trees. Something - some animal - moves near the wall. She is on the second floor, not too far to jump, if she's careful. The window should open easily.

[Darqueone]

She puts her fingers to the windowsash, then pauses and looks specifically for anything that might indicate an alarm; wires, magnets, so on. This, while keeping her ears sharp.

[Wired*Nun]

There is a standard broken-circuit magnet alarm on the window; now that she thinks of it, there are motion detectors in the hallway too. Not much she can do about that.

The movement near the wall resolves itself into a pair of Dobermans, who trot over to look up at her from the lawn below.

[Darqueone]

Ok, so... maybe not the window... She moves on down the hall, trying to stay calm as her heart hammers. There's got to be a way out.

[Wired*Nun]

She turns around and stifles a shriek. There's a man standing in the hallway looking at her.

After he initial jump, she realizes that it's the Mystery Man. He leans comfortably on his walking stick, as if just waiting for her attention.

[Darqueone]

Her eyes widen. The Penguin Man?!?!? Bastard! She glances past him, then behind her, looking to see where the rest of 'them' are.

[Wired*Nun]

There isn't anyone else there, that she can see.

He throws back his hood so she can see his face. "I'm sorry it took so long," he says dryly. "They are all away tonight, so I thought to rescue you...but it seems you have already made some progress on that score."

[Darqueone]

Ok, at that she blinks. Can I trust him? He did say to call.... "Can you get me out of here?"

[Wired*Nun]

"That is my intent. I have incapacitated all the staff I found, so - incongruous as it sounds - I intend to simply walk out of here." He turns to stride down the hall, flipping his hood back up.

As they walk, he speaks. "I seldom get involved with these sorts of things, but I must confess you caught my attention. You Call was still not too loud on the night we spoke. I did not think anyone would find you so soon. I do have very good sources of information, however. The evil ones are out doing their evil this night, and there was no better opportunity."

They walk through a lovely mansion, and to the front door. The man grabs a cashmere overcoat from a closet and drapes it around her shoulders. "It's cold outside."

[Darqueone]

"Right behind ya..." she mutters, still hanging onto her improvised brick-inna-sock.

When he offers the coat, she takes a moment to drop her towels (except the weaponized towel) and lower her pants legs. Then she puts the coat on. "Look, I don't want to argue with you, Mr.... um... Mr..." Cummerbun? Crawdad? "But I didn't call you. I know you said I should, but... well, that kind of thing usually goes badly in a stalkerish kind of way when you work retail. Just about now, though, I'd walk out with Ted Bundy if I thought he could get me out of this building. No offense." She's ready to leave, WAY ready.

[Wired*Nun]

"My name is Muertin Thaniel." He fishes in the closet for a hat and some gloves, and hands them to her. The gloves are too big, but that's the least of her worries. His own gloves are perfectly fitted kidskin, and match his caped cloak. "You didn't call, what's done is done. Let us depart."

He opens the door and leads the way out of the silent house. "I apologize, but my vehicle is some distance away. I thought it prudent not to approach too closely in it. Nor do I wish to steal any of the ones here...not from any moral compunction I assure you."

The two Dobermans from the backyard pick that moment to charge around the house. The man holds up a hand as if to ward them off, and they stumble and collapse, unconscious, thirty feet from the two people. Some kind of animal-whisperer voodoo?

The last threat dealt with, he leads her out the front gate, which stands open. There is a guardhouse, and Ana can see a uniformed guard slumped inside.

They stride along, and she has to work to keep up - but not so much as she expects. She is invigorated with the freedom and fear, and oddly, feels more alive than she has since she was a little girl. They walk quickly down a private drive and into a wealthy neighborhood, down a side street then onto a thoroughfare. The sight of normalcy, cars driving by and the lights of a restaurant, are reassuring.

"My vehicle is here," he says, pointing a remote at a stately-looking luxury car. She doesn't recognize the brand, but it looks like something a British lord should be riding around in.

[Darqueone]

She moves quickly, her eyes widening again as the dogs drop. She keeps up, and doesn't pause as the remote beeps the car but continues on and gets in. Well, for all I know he is a British Lord....

[Wired*Nun]

The interior is buttery leather smell and feel, wood and brass. The car starts smoothly and they pull out into traffic.

In a few moments the landscape changes abruptly. It takes a moment for her to figure it out, but then she realizes, the power is out. There is also the smell of smoke in the air.

"Evil deeds are being committed here this night. The sooner we are away, the better." He maneuvers quickly toward the BW Parkway, passing police and emergency vehicles, then turns southwest to DC.

"I can take you to your home if you like...or I can take you to mine. It is your choice. However, if you go to yours, and try to resume your old life, you will always wonder. And they may find you again." He looks over at her, impassively.

"I assure you, that you will always be free with me. To leave or stay, to learn or ignore."

[Darqueone]

Anna takes a deep breath as they move away from the curb. She's almost willing to believe she's free. Almost.

"The sooner we are away, the better."

"Amen to that, brother..." she mutters, peering out the window.

He looks over at her, impassively.

She pauses, thinking. I want to go to Tony's, but I won't put him at risk. There's nothing left for me at my place. I should probably go to a hotel but I don't have much cash, need to use credit and that's traceable, right? Besides... I don't want to be alone. I don't really have anyone I can trust.

"I think..." she clears her throat and looks over at him "I think... I don't know you. But I don't have anyone I can trust. I've been told a lot of things recently, and I'm not sure what's true anymore."

"Tell you what... you take me where you think is best. I'm going to sit quietly here and see if I can sort things out. If I don't like where we end up, I'll leave. And that'll be ok with you, right?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Indubitably. You have my word. We will go to my home."

They drive along in silence for some time, crossing the Beltway to hit 295, then down to 1 and Alexandria. Tucked away a couple of blocks from Old Town, in the direction of the Potomac, they arrive at a stately antebellum mansion surrounded by a high, wrought-iron fence. Pressing a button on the console, the gate opens, then the garage door. He drives in and turns off the vehicle.

The floor is polished and clean, and there is a Jaguar convertible already parked inside. There is room for two more cars or so.

He opens the door for her, then pulls down his hood before escorting her through a connecting hallway into the main house. "The garage used to be a carriage house. I added this walkway later, once motor vehicles came into vogue."

The walkway debouches into a large, well-equipped kitchen. The clock on the wall reads 5:50. Seeing her glance, he says, "Breakfast would seem to be in order. Let me take your things." He puts the borrowed coat, gloves and hat, along with his cloak and gloves, on a rack by the front door, visible through the other side of the kitchen.

"Please, have a seat. I will make coffee. Or tea, if you prefer?" He gestures at the kitchen nook built into the side, overlooking the back yard with a view of the garage behind the walkway.

[Darqueone]

Once motor... is this guy kidding? Anna follows him into the house, looking around with unabashed curiousity. Worst come to worst, at least I walked in here awake and alive. That's better than most, recently.

She gives up her coat and answers his question. "Well... um, which are you having?" She finds a faint smile. "I'm sorry, sir... would you tell me your name again? I haven't been a very good guest. Or a very grateful rescue victim. It's been a very difficult week, I apologize."

[Wired*Nun]

She takes in the details of the house, what she can see. Everything is understated elegance, antiques used not as decoration but simply as utilities - lamps, furniture, pots and pans. Anything modern is of uniformly high quality, and carefully arranged. Yet, it's quite evidently a bachelor house. There is little trace of a woman's touch.

"Coffee for me. And, no need to apologize. It is I that should, for not staging your rescue sooner. Unfortunately, you were well protected until the evil ones sallied forth. You may call me Muertin if you wish, or Mister Thaniel if you prefer formality. How do you choose to be addressed?"

The man putters around with coffee and a press, setting out cream and sugar. When that is done, and a few sips sipped, he busies himself with preparing eggs and toast, sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes, and an unfamilar sausage. Under his cloak, his dress is very old-fashioned, like something from Britain in the fifties or forties perhaps - tweed trousers and vest over a tailored shirt with silver cufflinks, exquisite horsehide boots.

Just the thing for midnight rescues.

[Darqueone]

"Well.. Mr. Thaniel" Daniel with a "TH", Daniel with a "TH"... "I'd like a coffee, then. And please call me Anna." She sits on a kitchen chair, watching him. When they are seated and first bites taken, she clears her throat. "Mr. Thaniel, could you... tell me what's going on, please?" Her appitite wakes, but her hunger for explaination is greater. She eats carefully.

[Wired*Nun]

"Anna then. I would still like to know your surname at some point. It might lay certain questions to rest." He arranges the food on two plates, and sets them down on the table.

"Pardon me again...I haven't explained these things for some years...where to begin, where to begin... Ahem. All right. I see from your necklace that you were raised in the Christian faith, yes? Roman Catholic? I see. So, I will explain things to you in those terms...understanding that there are many anomalies which may not fit into your tradition. You will have to open your mind to things that may threaten your interpretations, if not your faith." He takes a couple of bites of food by way of thinking.

"Do you read much? Books, scripture? Would it help if I referenced such things for you, to help explain?"

[Darqueone]

"Anna then. I would still like to know your surname at some point. It might lay certain questions to rest." He arranges the food on two plates, and sets them down on the table.

"Oh! My last name is Dankov."

"Do you read much? Books, scripture? Would it help if I referenced such things for you, to help explain?"

She shrugs. "I've did 4 years of Catholic high school, I've made my sacraments and I've read a couple books on Apologetics. More than some my age, I guess, but I know there's a lot I don't know." She takes a few more bites as she listens.

[Wired*Nun]

"Very well." He stands up, briefly leaving her in the kitchen, and returns with two books. Both are elegantly leatherbound. One is a Roman Catholic Bible; one a copy of the apocryphal Book of Enoch. He opens the books, beginning with Genesis 6, 1-4.

"Now it came about, when men began to multiply on the face of the land, and daughters were born to them, that the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful; and they took wives for themselves, whomever they chose. Then the LORD said, 'My Spirit shall not strive with man forever, because he also is flesh; nevertheless his days shall be one hundred and twenty years.' The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of men, and they bore children to them. Those were the mighty men who were of old, men of renown."

"If you believe in the veracity of Scripture, this indicates that angelic beings - the 'sons of God' - mated with human women and produced offspring. The assumption has always been that these were the fallen angels, those who were cast out after the rebellion of Luciel, later named Lucifer and titled The Satan. One may wonder where those offspring are, now. Or, at least, their bloodline."

He opens the Book of Enoch next. "Read there," he says, pointing.

6.1 And it came to pass, when the sons of men had increased, that in those days there were born to them fair and beautiful daughters.
6.2 And the Angels, the sons of Heaven, saw them and desired them. And they said to one another: "Come, let us choose for ourselves wives, from the children of men, and let us beget, for ourselves, children."
6.3 And Semyaza, who was their leader, said to them:
"I fear that you may not wish this deed to be done and that I alone will pay for this great sin."
6.4 And they all answered him, and said:
"Let us all swear an oath, and bind one-another with curses, so not to alter this plan, but to carry out this plan effectively."
6.5 Then they all swore together and all bound one another with curses to it.
6.6 And they were, in all, two hundred and they came down on Ardis, which is the summit of Mount Hermon. And they called the mountain Hermon because on it they swore and bound one another with curses.
6.7 And these are the names of their leaders:
Semyaza, who was their leader, Urakiba, Ramiel, Kokabiel, Tamiel, Ramiel, Daniel, Ezeqiel, Baraqiel, Asael, Armaros, Batriel, Ananel, Zaqiel, Samsiel, Satael, Turiel, Yomiel, Araziel.
6.8 These are the leaders of the two hundred Angels and of all the others with them.
7.1 And they took wives for themselves and everyone chose for himself one each. And they began to go into them and were promiscuous with them. And they taught them charms and spells, and they showed them the cutting of roots and trees.
7.2 And they became pregnant and bore large giants. And their height was three thousand cubits.
7.3 These devoured all the toil of men; until men were unable to sustain them.
7.4 And the giants turned against them in order to devour men.
7.5 And they began to sin against birds, and against animals, and against reptiles, and against fish, and they devoured one another's flesh, and drank the blood from it.
7.6 Then the Earth complained about the lawless ones.
8.1 And Azazel taught men to make swords, and daggers, and shields, and breastplates. And he showed them the things after these, and the art of making them; bracelets, and ornaments, and the art of making up the eyes, and of beautifying the eyelids, and the most precious stones, and all kinds of coloured dyes. And the world was changed.
8.2 And there was great impiety, and much fornication, and they went astray, and all their ways became corrupt.
8.3 Amezarak taught all those who cast spells and cut roots, Armaros the release of spells, and Baraqiel astrologers, and Kokabiel portents, and Tamiel taught astrology, and Asradel taught the path of the Moon.
8.4 And at the destruction of men they cried out; and their voices reached Heaven.
9.1 And then Michael, Gabriel, Suriel and Uriel, looked down from Heaven and saw the mass of blood that was being shed on the earth and all the iniquity that was being done on the earth.
9.2 And they said to one another: "Let the devastated Earth cry out with the sound of their cries, up to the Gate of Heaven.
9.3 And now to you, Oh Holy Ones of Heaven, the souls of men complain, saying: "Bring our complaint before the Most High."
9.4 And they said to their Lord, the King: "Lord of Lords, God of Gods, King of Kings! Your glorious throne endures for all the generations of the world, and blessed and praised!
9.5 You have made everything, and power over everything is yours. And everything is uncovered, and open, in front of you, and you see everything, and there is nothing that can be hidden from you.
9.6 See then what Azazel has done; how he has taught all iniquity on the earth and revealed the eternal secrets that are made in Heaven.
9.7 And Semyaza has made known spells, he to whom you gave authority to rule over those who are with him.
9.8 And they went into the daughters of men together, lay with those women, became unclean, and revealed to them these sins.
9.9 And the women bore giants, and thereby the whole Earth has been filled with blood and iniquity.
9.10 And now behold the souls which have died cry out and complain unto the Gate of Heaven, and their lament has ascended, and they cannot go out in the face of the iniquity which is being committed on the earth.

He takes the opportunity of her reading to finish his food and refill his coffee cup and hers. "That would seem to be a more complete account of the summary in Genesis. The book of Tobit has some other interesting passages. These accounts contain truth. There were Nephilim. There are still Nephilim. And I...and you...are they."

[Darqueone]

Anna follows along, reads where pointed, thoughtfully. "Um... sorry. Are you saying that Angels had children with humans and ... you're one of the children? And so am I?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Is that so hard to believe? If you believe in visitations and miracles and the transformation of the Host?"

"But what you believe about the past only informs today; you may choose any interpretation you like. Here are some facts."

"You had a brain tumor, yes? And you don't have it now. You've had surgery, and in a week or so your scars are largely healed, when a normal human being would still be convalescing."

"Also, there is this interesting effect," he says, changing languages to Afrikaans. She realizes he must have learned it in south Cape Town, but it was not his first language. Switching again to the Swahili of the south Congo, he goes on, "How is it that you now understand languages you've never learned?"

[Darqueone]

"Is that so hard to believe? If you believe in visitations and miracles and the transformation of the Host?"

"Yes." simply "I believe the things I've been taught since childhood. Many people do.

"But what you believe about the past only informs today; you may choose any interpretation you like. Here are some facts."
"You had a brain tumor, yes? And you don't have it now. You've had surgery, and in a week or so your scars are largely healed, when a normal human being would still be convalescing."

Anna grins. "I was told I had a brain tumor. I was told I don't have it now. I was told I had surgery. You're telling me I'm largely healed. I was also told I died. I was told I was captured by 'bad guys' and you're a 'good guy'. I've been told and made to feel a lot of things"

"Also, there is this interesting effect," he says, changing languages to Afrikaans. She realizes he must have learned it in south Cape Town, but it was not his first language. Switching again to the Swahili of the south Congo, he goes on, "How is it that you now understand languages you've never learned?"

She pauses, and nods slowly. "Ok, ya got me. I'll admit, I don't know how. It could be an affect of the surgery, assuming there was one." another quick grin "I've heard stories of folks who developed talents after brain surgery. Of course, it was usually performed in a hospital..."

"There are lots of explainations for what's happened. With respect, I'm disinclined to agree with the explaination you've suggested. I don't believe 9/11 was a government conspiracy or in UFO's or in Creationism either" she shrugs "I guess I'm pretty mainstream, and I did ask you what had happened. This is your explaination, and I thank you for it."

[Wired*Nun]

He smiles, a little sadly. "I applaud your determination to remain skeptical. You will have to come to your own adjustment in worldview as time goes on. You will have to ponder by what mechanism you could possibly know any and every language ever spoken, if there were not some higher principle involved. It's not as if you simply were able to learn them quickly, like a savant. You seem to know them from the first word spoken. Or written."

He points to the Book of Enoch that she was reading from. "Look carefully at that. Don't try to understand it, just look at the lettering, the calligraphy. What do you see?"

She looks at the pages and realizes that the print is hand-lettered, and written in a language she can't put a name to. It reminds her of Elvish, from the Lord of the Rings books she read as a teenager, or maybe Norse runes. But she can read it and understand it easily.

"That's Old Nephilim. It's a tongue that only a few thousand people in the world today can read. Even most of us can't; it's just not used much anymore. Yet, you can, without study. Explain that." His tone is gently challenging, like a schoolteacher.

[Darqueone]

"I can't." Anna says easily. "But of all possible explainations, everything I know about myself and the way things work tells me it's not likely because I'm the many-times and millennia-removed decendant of woman and devils."

"One thing I am convinced of is that I don't want to be held or hospitalized by people I don't know and trust. I don't know you very well, respectfully. And I don't trust the people at that... other place. I want to go home, but I don't think I can risk my family and friends. So I'm feeling kind of stuck."

"I don't know you very well, but I recognize you're trying to do right by me. Do you have any suggestions?"

[Wired*Nun]

"As I said, the whys and wherefores are less important than accepting that something extraordinary has happened to you. My suggestion is that you need to know all you can, as soon as you can, so that you can defend yourself and choose your own destiny."

"I also would be remiss if I did not remind you that something has changed in you that causes some effect in those you touch. Reports to me were vague, but enough to feel that you should keep it in mind. I suggest you do not touch anyone without expectation of some unwanted effect."

"All of us have Gifts - powers if you will - which manifest once we have been Converted - that is, died and been renewed for the first time. Some use their powers for selfish gain and gratuitous evil - often called Narcissists. Some dedicate themselves to a traditional view of Good - helping others, following what you might term a kind of Judeo-Christian style moral code - called Altruists. Others, like me, find a middle ground. We are called Outsiders. Some divide even those into Light and Dark-Siders."

"Those of a darker bent - such as the Narcissists who held you until recently - recruit and indoctrinate Younglings like you. They would use you to add to their power and influence, and...other selfish reasons. I must say you are fortunate that Justin Orabono placed indoctination above personal pleasure for as long as he did. The next step in the process would have involved dependency on drugs, seduction, sex, rape, degradation and demoralization, until your sense of self-worth was destroyed except in his presence. Perhaps your touch was a deterrent..."

[Darqueone]

Anna's quiet a long moment, then says quietly "It wouldn't have felt like rape..." she sips her coffee.

"I remember something about the effect my hands had on... had. Would it be inappropriate to suggest that we experiment now? If I touch you... would you tell me what's going on?"

[Wired*Nun]

Muertin holds up a quick hand in a position of negation, startling her. "No!" he says forcefully. "You cannot touch me." His palm has taken on a reddish glow, like a special effect. He closes it, slowly, as if against his own better judgment.

"No," he says more quietly. "My Gift is delicate, easily disrupted, difficult to control, especially in the presence of strong sensation. I believe this would be...very unwise. There are those among us who are much more...resilient, on which to experiment."

[Darqueone]

"Well... that was why I asked." Rather taken aback. "There are those among us... so... where's the rest of...us?"

[Wired*Nun]

"There are exactly 144,000 Nephilim at any one time on the Earth. That works out to something like one in every 50,000 people alive, though that ratio has no significance and changes with births and deaths. Greater DC and its surrounds has more than its share; out of a population of more than eight million, there are more than two hundred in residence and many more come and go. Some are truly outsiders, keeping to themselves. Most form or join groups, cabals, associations, companies, syndicates, covens, coteries, societies...criminal organizations, such as the Orabono crime family that held you."

[Darqueone]

"I can certainly understand the impulse to keep to yourself..." Anna mutters. "I take it that's what you do?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Ahhh...while I live alone, I do associate with some like-minded of our kind. Scholars. Seekers and lovers of knowledge. Watchers and observers, mostly. It is...imprudent to be entirely without resources, associates...even friends. Loneliness is a small price to pay, if it preserves me from violences."

He laughs. "Taking you from that garbage was the first dangerous involvement I have essayed in...many years. An altruistic act! Though I am skeptical of some final judgment, Pascal's Wager and elementary game theory dictate the wisdom of my actions...even in the face of the possibility of their retribution for doing so. And you do look so much like...I had a daughter. Long ago."

[Darqueone]

Anna pauses. "I'm sorry." softly, gently. "I appreciate your helping me."

Then she sips her cooling coffee. "Ok, so... I need resources, contacts. I guess... I could go into international politics. Probably pays better than EuroTrash." she chuckles. "And would make some contacts." she sighs. "New life." her wistful tone is not entirely pleased.

[Wired*Nun]

"That's the spirit!" He tips a bit more hot coffee into her cup, then refills his own. "A mundane living of any sort is open to you - with your Gift for language, you could secure a position as an interpreter at the UN, the State Department, a multinational corporation, an intelligence agency...most Nephilim are soon past worrying about subsistence. Some are still avaricious..."

"Once you think more about it, I could discreetly introduce you to a few of my most trusted friends, to find a position. However...I must point something out, in all fairness."

He steeples his fingers and bumps them gently against his nose. "My closest associates and I are...anomalies. Most Nephilim have taken a side...a side in a struggle that has raged for millenia. I suppose if you drew the finest of lines, I would place myself on the side of light, rather than darkness...but most are far more involved than we are. They maneuver in the worlds and on the battlefields of politics, of business, of violence both secret and open. It takes a great deal of effort to stay out of this...war. Sooner or later you will be forced into choices - whom you befriend, how you will compromise, where you will take a stand - for something, against something else."

[Darqueone]

Anna nods. " 'If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice' " she quotes. "Glad to hear you serve the Light, even if only just. That would certainly be my choice... but I'm not eager to go signing up for anything. Like I said, I'm not entirely sure I buy everything you've told me. At least, maybe not the way you've put it." she says this respectfully.

"I owe you a debt, Mr. Thaniel. And I owe you breakfast." she grins. "I suppose now I should at least call my family and ... hm. Call my family and come up with a really good story. And then... " she trails off, suddenly figuring out that starting an new life from scratch is difficult.

[Wired*Nun]

"Everyone must judge for themselves. Over the next few decades you will probably have many opportunities to hear other viewpoints. Remember that I put things in terms I thought you would be familiar with and accept. Had you been a scientist or an atheist, I might have spoken of pan-spermia, ancient astronauts and the introduction of extraterrestrial genetic material. No matter." He smiles indulgently, standing to pick up the dishes and place them in the sink.

"There is a telephone in the hall, if you wish to make a call. Please do not give any specifics of where you were or are, or even speak your own full name. There are computers now that can snatch a sentence out of the flow of information, based solely on certain key words."

"And speaking of names...if you owe me a debt, perhaps you may repay it by telling me what you know about your ancestry." He says this casually, with his back to her, but from the set of his shoulders, her woman's intuition - or something else - detects...something more.

[Darqueone]

Her woman's intuition, or spidey-sense, makes her slow as she rises to make a call to Tony... He wants my ancestry? Why? She thinks about it as she goes to the phone and dials. She listens to the phone ring...

[Wired*Nun]

His message machine picks up. At first she thinks she may have a wrong number because of the unfamiliar voice, but as she listens...

"You have reached the home of Anthony Dankov. Please do not leave a message, but call Monsignor Gregory Stein at..." She copies down the number.

[Darqueone]

Anna curses and calls the next number quickly, trembling.

[Wired*Nun]

The monsignor picks up the phone. As soon as she identifies herself, she can hear it in his voice.

"I'm terribly sorry to have to tell you this, Miss Dankov. Your brother has disappeared. He left work as usual last Friday. On Tuesday, after I could not locate him, we called the authorities, and on Wednesday they opened an investigation. We are all praying for him. Here's the number of Lieutenant Dean Reynolds, of the Baltimore Police Department."

[Darqueone]

"Thank you, Father..." she say softly, numbly, as she hangs up. She calls the police. "Lt. Reynolds, please. Anastasia Dankov."

[Wired*Nun]

"Reynolds." The voice is young-sounding, but she knows enough to realize that Lieutenant isn't as low a rank in the police as it is in the military. "You're the sister," he states when she introduces herself. "I just picked up the case off of one of my sergeants - you're supposed to be missing, and your brother filed an MPR on Wednesday the tenth; we changed it to kidnapping when we couldn't find where the ambulance took you. Now he's missing - and you're back. Would you like to come down to headquarters and tell me what happened?" His tone is deliberately upbeat, but she can hear the undercurrent of suspicion in it.

[Darqueone]

"Anything you need to find my brother, sir. Where and when?"

[Wired*Nun]

"As soon as you can. I'm in early and staying late, covering for the help we sent up to Baltimore. I'll be waiting; just give them my name at the desk."

Thaniel calls from the kitchen, "Something's happened. Your brother is unaccounted-for, I take it?" She hears the diswasher start up, and sees him come to the kitchen-hall door, wiping his hands on a towel.

[Darqueone]

"I'll be there as soon as I can, sir." She takes the address and turns.

"Yes." angry... growing very angry. It feels... reassuring. "I'll do anything you want. Help me help my brother."

[Wired*Nun]

He stares at her for a long moment. "You think I'm...blackmailing you somehow?" Emotions flit across his face, before he bows his head and shakes it in frustration.

He raises an accusing finger to point it at the ceiling."This is a textbook example of why I do not like to get involved."

[Darqueone]

"I'm not blackmailing you." icy "I'm making you an offer. You don't want it, I'll find someone who does. I guess I'd rather it was you, but I'll take what I can get."

[Wired*Nun]

"Amazing." His voice turns sarcastic. "Let me review. I try to help you before all this happened, but you didn't contact me - because of your mistrust of strangers, I presume. Then, terrible things happen, from which I put my life at risk to rescue you, incidentally murdering four not-quite-deserving mortals and two dogs in the process. You say you owe me, then renege on that debt by not answering a simple question which again, may have great bearing on your own life from now until the end of days...and now, suddenly, you are offering me...what? More promises?"

He turns to stalk back into the kitchen, exiting the other door and returning in a moment with a photograph in a frame. He thrusts it into her hands. Black and white, it depicts a young woman in a black dress, on the front steps of a house of unfamiliar design.

The woman is Anastasia. Or, so close as must be a relation.

"Now I am almost sure. This was my daughter, in her youth. Taken in 1890 in St. Petersburg. She was just like you...sweet, beautiful, and pigheaded. Determined, she called it. Her name was Tatyana Irenova."

She sees the pain and hurt underlying the anger in his eyes, and remembers something Tony once said to her, talking about dealing with one of his cranky old parishoners. "With old men, it's all about respect."

[Darqueone]

Anna stalks right after him, which provides a moment of near comedy when he turns with the photograph. She listens, then takes a deep breath. "I'm flattered by the comparison, sir. Now, please listen carefully...

"I did not renege on my debt; I didn't answer your question, your request, because I was thinking about it and wanted to talk to my brother. Who has been kidnapped, according to police. I'm a missing person."

She offers the photograph back. "She's a beautiful young lady, but I was born in 1987. I'm afraid we have a huge gap in our personal belief systems, but right now I'm getting a little more than worried about finding my brother, who, by the way, has never shown the slightest sign of being one of these demon-mortal mixes you believe you and I are.

"Which means that, if he's in the power of someone with ... what, abilities? Powers? Like yours, then he's up shit creek without a paddle. And that means, I'm going in to help him if not actually save him.

"I can't bring your daughter back, unfortunately. I can't bring back the people or even the dogs you killed. I am grateful to you, but right now there's another priority which has a ticking clock on it.

She grabs the coat and her things (including the statue and towel combo). "So, with due respect, are you in or out? The first 48 hours are the most critical." she tries to stay calm and cool but the tension in her voice reveals her anxiety and anger.

[Wired*Nun]

He takes the picture back and places it carefully on a shelf.

"I would be extremely surprised if he was one of us. The Conversion seems to have nothing to do with conventional genetics. It is a matter of the soul." He seems to be somewhat mollified, but still grim and brittle. "Whether you believe in such a thing or not."

He turns back to her, then edges around her carefully to return to the kitchen, where he puts a chair and some distance between them again. Pensively, he speaks again.

"I am cursed with an unreasonable love for the women in my family, I suppose. Very well. Let us sally forth. Unless I am mistaken...I shall help my great-granddaughter succour my great-grandson."

Raising a hand, theatrically: "Lay on, MacDuff!"

[Darqueone]

((Ok, now you're just getting SILLY))

Anna manages not to roll her eyes but heads for the door. "How did you find me? Can you find Tony the same way?"

[Wired*Nun]

[It HAD to be done.]

"Unfortunately, no. You were Ringing in your Conversion. Unless his were imminent, even assuming he were to be, we must do some of this the old fashioned way. Fortunately, I have some expertise in that area." He gathers his caped cloak again with gloves and silver-chased walking stick.

"Do you intend to go speak to the policeman?"

[Darqueone]

"I was what in my what?" as she makes her way back to where she thinks she remembers the car was.

"Crap. The cops." she sighs "I really should. Maybe they can tell us something." she glances sideways at him "What do you think?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Every Nephil, shortly before they are fated to die for the first time, begins to emanate a spiritual 'ringing'. That's what it sounds like to other Nephilim, at least. It heralds their imminent conversion from mortal to immortal -assuming he or she chooses to return. Not all choose to return to life. Some choose to enter the afterlife and meet whatever fate awaits."

He opens the door to the walkway, and lets her precede him. "Once the Conversion is finished, the Ringing stops."

He reaches past her to open the next door, flicking on the light in the garage. "That's how the Narcs must have tracked you - your ringing. When I received a report of a Ringer being brought into the Orabona Stronghold, along with your description, I looked for an opportunity to spirit you away."

He opens the door for her, to the Jaguar this time, then gets in himself, pushing the opener button. "Fortunately for you, they decided to assault and kill as many of the Truists and Lightsiders in Baltimore that they could last night in an effort to take over entirely. This left them rather thin at home."

[Darqueone]

"Some people get a choice about returning? To life, I mean?" she gets in.

"What do you think about the cops?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Some choose to give up the pain of this life for the promise of the next. This is why most Ringers are found and given guidance - of one sort or another - by the finders. A Nephil is a valuable commodity, slave, friend or ally, depending on the viewpoint."

He pulls out of the garage, turning north up route 1. "The police? They serve their function. I have my sources among them as well. Probably, so do many more. We must assume that anything we do will be noticed. That is why I will not be joining you for the interview. It would raise too many questions."

[Darqueone]

"Alright." This guy doesn't give straight answers. Figures-and-why-am-I-surprised? "We'll start with the police then." she sits back for the right, her fingers fidgeting on the arm rest.

[Wired*Nun]

The return to Baltimore seems tense, the more so because of the morning traffic. Fortunately most of it is streaming toward DC, so that as soon as they get past the Beltway it thins out going their way. The inbound lanes are jammed.

Downtown, the Baltimore PD headquarters is an extremely busy place, more so than what must be normal, she surmises. They have to park some distance away, and Thaniel walks her to within distant sight of the front door.

"I'll wait in that coffee shop there," he says, pointing across the street. "We'll have to get you a new cell phone, won't we. Here's my number just the same." He hands her a blank business card with just his name printed in gold ink, and a 703 number handwritten on it.

[Darqueone]

She takes it and nods her thanks, then turns and makes her away across the street, into the station.

She identifies herself to the desk sergeant and requestes Lt. Reynolds.

[Wired*Nun]

The place is bustling, and the desk sergeant directs her to Reynolds' office. It isn't long before she's sitting in an almost-comfortable chair in an almost-tasteful office. Lt. Reynolds seems to be a bowler, by the trophies on the shelves behind him.

"All right, Ms. Dankov. Why don't you start by telling me where you've been since you were reported missing, and hopefully tell me how this might relate to your brother's current whereabouts."

[Darqueone]

Anna's been thinking about this. "I don't know." she swallows "I was at the grocery store. My head started hurting and then... I blacked out. I came to in a hotel room, I think. My memory's foggy about it. I guess I left, walked out. After a while I found myself near my apartment; maybe I went on autopilot? I called a friend, he came and got me. I called Tony, and... now I'm here."

[Wired*Nun]

"Five-star hotel? Your hair's been done, you've had a manicure within the past week...and you look clean and rested. The monsignor said your bother told him you had a brain tumor - but you look fine. Better than fine, in fact."

He stands up, to loom over her; a tall man in his early thirties, he looks rather like a dour Conan O'Brian.

"The store manager at the Giant in Catonville said an ambulance took you away, but no hospital within the Baltimore-DC area admitted you...at least, not with your name or description. And, you came to near your own apartment...back near DC. Somehow, this doesn't seem to quite hang together..."

[Darqueone]

"I agree. Frankly, I'm scared sh... very scared. Did the store manager at the Giont in Catonsville tell you what I was doing when they took me away? Have you spoken with my physicians? I have a GP, I saw an ER doctor a few days ago, and I've been assigned an oncologist.

She takes a deep breath, refusing to panic as the cops "put the heat". "I can't explain how I look. I feel neither clean nor rested. I feel scared for myself, panicked in general, and terrified about finding my brother.

"Can you tell me anything about his circumstances?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Let's take one thing at a time. Yes, the first detective did the legwork. Spoke to everyone. Everything makes a certain amount of sense until you get taken away in the ambulance. We have to operate under the assumption of some kind of foul play. The ambulance ride...thats been done once or twice before, to cover up a kidnapping...it appears you were drugged..."

He stops, scratches his head uncomfortably. "Do you have any sense of...having been abused? Needle tracks? Evidence of rape or sexual abuse? Bruises from ropes or handcuffs? I'd really like you to see one of our physicians and do a rape kit." At her look, he goes on. "Any evidence about your own absence could provide a lead on your brother. Like, could he have been snatched because you escaped?"

[Darqueone]

She takes a deep breath, nods. "I understand. I'll happily see your physician if you think it well help... I did take a shower already, but that has nothing to do with my feeling... not clean. Not remembering about a week is doing most of that.

"When I got ... aware enough to think about it, no. I didn't feel abused. I haven't seen any needle tracks but I didn't look for them.

"I don't know why anyone would want to drug and kidnap me, to abandon me in a hotel somewhere. I have no idea why anyone would want to kidnap a priest. That's serious Go To Hell action."

[Wired*Nun]

"Young women are always at risk of being taken advantage of. Most tend to be a bit younger than you, those that would be put in the pipeline out of the country, or turned to drug dependency and prostitution. Easier to control..runaways and so on." He turns to pick up a file on his desk.

"Dankov. Russian? Any connection to the Russian mob? Even from their point of view? Anything in your family that...connects you to anything? Could this be some kind of vendetta or hostage-taking, to put pressure on someone else? Could he have been taken to put pressure on you?"

[Darqueone]

Anna shakes her head. "My father was in the Army. Retired. He's gone now. My mother remarried; they're both actors. I think our family came from Russia, but I have no idea when; Ellis Island maybe?" She shrugged.

"I work at the Old Post Office Pavillion; there's nothing to put pressure on me for! He's a parish priest; maybe someone hates Catholics?

"Please, tell me something. My life has gone crazy, and I could always turn to Tony. Only now he's not here. Please, tell me what you know?"

[Wired*Nun]

"I don't know too much about your brother. We searched his apartment on the basis of the MPR; we know you were staying with him. We have his computers slated to be gone over but the computer forensics guys are all booked up with this Orabono crime war thing. I took a fast look, but unless the Masons or the Satanists got pissed off at him, I don't know where to look. That's why I'm hoping you can give me some leads."

"His car was left in a public parking lot near the Washington monument. It showed up in our system after it was reported towed for overparking. We impounded it as evidence, but there was no blood or anything else to tell us anything other that that was probably the last place he drove to...unless someone else planted it there. The parking stub inside says Saturday the 13th, 8:48 am. If he was going to the Monument, that would fit; it opens at 9am. Maybe he was meeting someone. Unfortunately, monument tickets are just general admission, transferable."

[Darqueone]

Anna swallows. "As far as I know he wasn't planning to be near the Monument. He was going to the parish house the last time I saw him." she pauses, and her voice is thick with emotion "I was going grocery shopping for us."

She clears her throat. "I can tell you that Masons, Satanists, and Catholics have historically been on different sides. What's this... crime war thing? Could there be a connection? I've been... away from the news for a while."

She listens carefully.

[Wired*Nun]

"The Orabono crime family hit one of their rivals last night - big shootup. Automatic weapons, the works. There was a huge fire at a tire depot, and power blackouts all over the city, too. Coordinated, it looks like. If there's an upside, it's that we found a lot of dead Orabono soldiers, gang members, and others more or less innocent...and the Capo has disappeared. Maybe the guys he was trying to whack got him first. We're taking apart his mansion."

He sits on the edge of the desk, trying to look friendly. "Anything you want to tell us before we...find out something on our own?"

[Darqueone]

She sighs. "I really have told you everything I know. Have you spoken with my physicians?"

[Wired*Nun]

"The other detective did. I have the reports. You have a very serious brain tumor, and they intend to operate within the week." He smiles insincerely. "I persuaded them to bend confidentiality, since you were missing. Threat to life and limb, and all that."

He fishes in his pocket. "Here's my card, with my cell number on it too. Call me if you think of anything. We'll be devoting our best efforts to this case, never fear. In the meantime, keep in touch." He hands her the card, and reaches to shake her hand by way of dismissal.

I wonder how deep the Orabono corruption went? Cops on the payroll?

Something about this whole thing seems a bit off...or maybe it's just what she's been through lately.

[Darqueone]

"I don't mind." she reassures him, although she doesn't like the smile. She takes the card. "I'll call you as soon as I hear or see anything. I'm scared, and I want my brother back. Have you called the rest of my family?" she asks this as she rises, filing the 'off' feeling away to tell Grandpa about.

[Wired*Nun]

As she didn't avoid it, Reynolds takes her hand for a perfunctory shake...or so he planned.

Instead, he grunts and convulses, pulling free of her touch after only a moment. "Holy..." he gasps as he pulls himself into his chair. "You're one of them!"

There is terror in his eyes as he scrabbles for the pistol in his holster, trying to get nerveless fingers to follow his commands.

[Darqueone]

Her eyes slam open and she turns to run, flinging the door open and sprinting down the hallway.

[Wired*Nun]

Inarticulate yells come from behind her as she bolts down the halls and out of the building. A couple of cops impede her but she buffets them out of the way with seeming ease. Outside, she runs toward the meeting place, wishing she had that cell phone.

[Darqueone]

Anna tumbles down the stairs and sprints to the agreed on meeting place, scanning for Thaniel. Come on, come on Mystery Man.... where are ya??

[Wired*Nun]

He meets her at the front door of the coffee shop, hustling her around the corner toward their parking place.

"I deduce the interview didn't go well?"

[Darqueone]

"Let'sgolet'sgolet'sgolet'sgolet'sgo..." she slows to a hustle and takes his (coated) arms in hers as they head for the car. "Yeah, actually it went fine up to the point where I shook his hand. Turns out, I'm "One of them" and considering he was telling me about the Orabono crime family at the time, I thought I'd just leave."

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes...you may want to consider wearing gloves from now on, unless you want to exercise your Gift...and the police is riddled with corruption from that selfsame Orabono family, from whence I plucked you." They duck into the car without being seen, it appears. A couple of uniforms jog around the corner, looking this way and that, and Thaniel says, "Duck down, stay low." He pulls out and turns the other direction, speeding off.

"So, did you learn anything of use? Some starting point for our search?"

[Darqueone]

Anna ducks and mutters "Great.... now I'm Rogue." then from the seat cushions she asks "So... what exactly is my 'gift'?"

Then she sighs "I have no idea what I learned, other than I'm probably more likely to be found by the police than Tony is." For a moment, the enormity of the situation falls on her and she pauses, feeling her throat close up. "I don't know what to do." She hates the way her voice trembles.

[Wired*Nun]

He looks at Anna in puzzlement. Apparently, he doesn't get the X-Men reference.

"Other than the languages? It has some effect on the nervous system; my sources said you were not to touch anyone, because of its intensity. The obvious answer is pain, but there are only four basic nerve sensations in terrestrial living creatures: pain, heat or cold, pleasure, and pressure. There are many more receptors for vision, smell, taste and so on; but outside of the specialized organs, those are your choices. Perhaps you can stimulate them the way you wish, with practice."

Then she sighs "I have no idea what I learned, other than I'm probably more likely to be found by the police than Tony is." For a moment, the enormity of the situation falls on her and she pauses, feeling her throat close up. "I don't know what to do." She hates the way her voice trembles.

"Hmmmm." His hand comes off the wheel, carefully, gloved, to pat her arm.

"We've all been there, Anastasia. Fear not. Have some faith." He turns left, the right, and pulls around the back of a convenience store, out of easy view.

"Did you find anything out, that would give us some kind of starting point? Or should we go to his place of residence - perhaps you will recognize something out of place, some clue?"
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[Darqueone]

She tries to take a deep breath, manages half way, and exhales a wubbly sound. After several minutes, she is able to ask "Safe for me to come up yet?"

She sits up and tries to focus. "The cops have his computer. They're going to take a look at it but it's slow because of the crime family extraveganza. The cop, Lt. Reynolds, wanted to know if maybe the Russian mob was part of it. Asked about my family." she gives 'Grandpa' a raised eyebrow.

"He said Tony's car was found in the parking lot for the Washington Monument on Saturday the 13th at quarter of nine. He said there wasn't any evidence in it." she repeats this numbly.

"He said the cops found a lot of dead criminals, but the Capo of the Orabono family got away. Gave me his card. I did wonder if maybe the Orabono people had moles in the police department. People on thier payrole."

[Wired*Nun]

"Of course. sit up. be comfortable."

She sits up and tries to focus. "The cops have his computer. They're going to take a look at it but it's slow because of the crime family extraveganza. The cop, Lt. Reynolds, wanted to know if maybe the Russian mob was part of it. Asked about my family." she gives 'Grandpa' a raised eyebrow.

"It sounds like he was just testing out theories. You've never been involved with the Russian mafia, have you? People can be prejudiced by names and backgrounds. They call it 'profiling' when it's useful, 'bigotry' when it's offensive. Sometimes it's both."

"He said Tony's car was found in the parking lot for the Washington Monument on Saturday the 13th at quarter of nine. He said there wasn't any evidence in it." she repeats this numbly.

"Perhaps we should start at the Monument then. Do you have a picture of your brother? Or if not, we should stop by his residence to pick one up. We can show it around to employees. Perhaps we will get lucky. It's almost 9am now; maybe the same people will be on shift."

"He said the cops found a lot of dead criminals, but the Capo of the Orabono family got away. Gave me his card. I did wonder if maybe the Orabono people had moles in the police department. People on thier payrole."

"Yes...there are many people on many payrolls, my association among them. I suspect the Baltimore police department is in for a shakeup soon, possibly for the better." He pauses, stroking his thin trimmed beard, musing.

"We might be able to to keep the detective working for us..." He puts the car into gear, and rounds the building to pull up in front of the parking lot pay phone. He pops open the ashtray, which is filled with quarters. "Tolls," he says. "Useful today for other things. Let me see that card."

He gets out and makes a quick call, then slides back in. "I called our Mister Reynolds. I told him that your brother is the key to the truth about 'those people.' That should motivate him nicely...all the better because your brother knows nothing of the Nephilim."

[Darqueone]

"Ok." she feels limp; tired, hungry again, and emotionally exhausted. "I guess I need gloves. I have an old picture of Tony on my phone, but I'm not sure we can get into his apartment without the cops knowing. What if they have tape up or a cop outside or something?

"So...what's next?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, do you still have your cell phone?" He raises an eyebrow. "They didn;t take it away from you? That would be fortunate, as I am expecting them to link you to the Orabono mansion eventually, through the things of yours that we left behind."

She belatedly realizes that no, she doesn't have the phone.

"Do you have anything stored on the internet? Or your home computer? We could go by your residence. I doubt Baltimore PD would persuade DC to leave a round-the-clock stakeout for a mere missing girl...but if we do encounter someone, I believe we can handle them, between us. Then we go to the Monument, unless some other idea presents itself. Then we go back to my home, whre I will gather the latest information and put some more of my sources into play on this issue."

[Darqueone]

Anna sighs. "Ok. They took my phone. I thought it was in my stuff I got from the room before I left, but I guess not. I have some pictures on my computer, yes. Let's...do what you said."

[Wired*Nun]

"Very well." They proceed back south, fighting the last of the rush hour traffic to arrive at her apartment around 9:45am.

There isn't any sign of forced entry. The manager must have let them in. But a few of her things have been disturbed, and there is a pro forma notice on the table telling her the police had been there and asking her to contact them. Not likely, after the last encounter...

Her putative great-grandfather stands in her small living room, looking around the apartment, and she suddenly feels somewhat inadequate after seeing his place. But long life is likely to result in wealth, if one is careful or ambitious...I have nothing to be ashamed of.

[Darqueone]

Still... I like his place, his style, better than this crap. Note to self; need more money.

She goes to the computer and prints out the most recent pictures she has of Tony. Nothing fancy, just casual snaps on plain bond paper. Then she packs another suitcase... and pauses.

"Hey, um... Mr. Thaniel... what about my cancer? They gave me meds, I don't even remember if we picked them up from the pharmacy. Am I still sick?"

[Wired*Nun]

His face breaks in a smile, the first she has seen from him. His deep, gravely voice provides a welcome answer.

"I am almost certain you are not. We are subject to few illnesses, and even so, generally recover...or regenerate. I say 'almost' because those with the Gifts of altering shape sometimes lose control and cause their own cancers...but left to its own devices, your soul should heal your body from almost anything. Oh...and in case you didn't figure it out already...you are potentially immortal."

[Darqueone]

Anna stares at him a moment, then nods slowly. "Ok. I don't know how I feel about that. Let me get back to you." She zips up her bag.

"What else do you think we might want from here?"