Episode 136

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            Chivalry

 

            Alex sat the bar-like counter of a small art café.  He stirred the coffee in the tiny porcelain cup and took a sip, biting at the heat.  He sat back, flipping open a copy of Newsweek.  He opened up to a page titled ‘Is France Ready For War?’  He shook his head and closed the magazine and looked at the mirror on the other side of the counter.

            Alan Vick was staring at him.

            Dressed in a red shirt and black trench coat, his strong eyes were locked on him.  Alex looked down and stirred his coffee some more.  As he did, Vick moved into the seat next to him.  l’eau mis en bouteille” he said to the man behind the counter.

            “Your French is getting better,” Alex observed absently, tapping the coffee off his spoon.

            “I hope so,” Alan responded.  “I just spent the last little bit in the southern region, which I had heard has a really weird dialect.  I was afraid I was going to end up sounding like I was from the French equivalent of Alabama.”  Alex chuckled.

A bottle of water was delivered and Alan tore it open and moved in his seat to face Alex.  “Don’t do that,” Alex said quietly.  “I’m here, incognito, just like you.  I’ve got people who are trying to kill me, just like you.”  He glanced at Alan.  “And I need of your help.”

“My help?” Alan said.  He looked away as if surprised.  “My help.”

“You have the Ivers book,” Alex said.  “My team needs it.  We’ve got one, you’ve got another.  We’re hoping that if we can put the two of them together, we can use them to cross-reference the data we’re currently getting and get to the bottom of this.”

“Bottom of what?” Alan asked.

Alex shrugged.  “I can’t tell you.”

“Well,” Alan said.  “We have a problem then.”

Alex nodded, facing into the mirror.  “Yes, I suppose we do.”

The knight glanced around the café subtly, then looked to Alex.  “Your friends are good at hiding,” he said.

“The big German is in the alley and there’s a sniper on the roof across the street,” Alex said, sipping his coffee.  “Neither are here to apprehend you; they’re here to watch my back.”

“From me?” Alan asked.

“From the people I mentioned are trying to kill me, us really.  My whole team’s in trouble.”

“Why’s that?” Alan asked.

“Again,” Alex said with a smile.  “That’s why we need the book.  We don’t know.”

Alan nodded, glancing at the door.  “So, uh, if I say no…?”

“You get up and walk out,” Alex said, moving a mint around on the counter.  “We don’t trail you; we don’t track you or follow you in anyway.”

“Huh,” Alan said.  He glanced at the door again.  “And if I say yes?” he asked without looking back.

 

            Lisa slid the clip into the pistol.  She took a breath, then lifted the gun, aiming it at the yellow target at the far end of the firing line.  She pulled the trigger three times, three holes appearing in the paper target, all grouped around the heart.

            There was a loud buzz and she lowered the gun.  She put on the safety and dropped the clip into her hand.  As she took off her ear dampeners, Sarah came up behind her, appraising the work.  “You’re getting better,” she determined.  The target approached and Sarah pulled it down, appraising the shots.

            “I’m still,” Lisa started, “uneasy about this whole thing.”

            “Alex knows what he’s doing,” Sarah said coldly, putting the target down.

            “Not that,” Lisa said.  She swallowed, glancing around, then stepped closer to Sarah.  “About, about Jason.”  Sarah stiffened a bit, nodding.  “Sarah, Emma was dead.  Dead-dead.  She’d been dead for a long time.  And he just, just kisses her and…”

            Sarah looked down, struggling.  “Magic and psychic are well beyond my area of expertise,” she said as patiently as she could manage.  “But what I have seen, time and time again, is that there is a…a bleed-over between the two.  Emma could operate the psychic devices on Atlantis.  Jason was able to perform a magical ritual.  This type of stuff isn’t that unusual.”

            “Sarah, there is nothing in any of the Responders’ books about bringing back the dead,” Lisa insisted.  “For all the wonderful world we live in, with all the magic and stuff, dead is still dead.  And Emma was dead.”

            Sarah’s eyes hardened.  “Would you prefer her to remain so, or to be so again?”

            “Sarah, I’m just…” she tried.

            “Lisa, a lot of things go on around here that are well outside our usual range of experiences,” Sarah said.  “I say this in all honesty; get used to it.”  She turned and walked away, leaving Lisa alone at the firing table.

 

            Outside the café, Til waited in the alley, his hands in his trench coat pockets.  He yawned, then touched his earpiece.  “Isaiah, anything interesting happening?”

            “Not a thing,” the sniper said in a bored tone, staring through the window at Alex and the knight.

 

            “What’s your stake in all of this?” Alex asked as his coffee cup was refilled.  “How do you even know who Alan Ivers is?”

            “There’s a ‘First Name Club’,” the knight answered, his bottle half-empty.  But he yawned and looked away.  “About a year or so ago, I came across some information that was being passed around through a small network of people back in the States.  It got me into all of this.  The more research I did, the more Ivers’ name started coming up.  I just kept at it and, eventually, I stumbled across a man in Holland who had one of the books.  I went to see him and found that the book had been stolen the night before.  I started tracking down the thief, a guy named Denmark, and followed him to Paris.”

            “What information?” Alex asked.

            Alan smirked.  “Who’s trying to kill you and why?”

            Alan smiled back, turning away.  “I noticed you’re wearing red and black,” he said.  “You’re a US knight.  Did you introduce yourself to the Parisian knights?”

            Alan chuckled.  “No,” he said bitterly.  “European knights really don’t like us across the pond.  I don’t know if it’s because we’re heathens or something or what.”

            “I thought that was what you knights did,” Alex said.  “You guys introduced yourself to the other knights in the territory.”

            “We normally do,” Alan said.  He took a swig of his water.  “I chose not to.”

 

            “I chose not to,” said the voice over the speaker.

Sitting in the computer room, Jin adjusted the sound as Assif and Eliot stood behind him.  Turning it down, Jin turned to the other two.  “We’re recording this.  If you want, we can arrest him.  He’s already admitted to stealing the book from Denmark as well as a host of other small crimes.”

“Right,” Eliot said.  “And how exactly do we arrest him? And with what army?”

Jin thought in vain for a moment and turned back around.

 

            “Alan, I’m going to cut right to the chase,” Alex said.  “We need your help.”  He glanced around the room, then leaned in towards the night.  “I belong to a secret operative branch of the UN,” he whispered into his ear.  “We’ve stumbled across something that apparently someone very powerful and very well connected wishes we hadn’t.  We need your book to help us figure out what’s going on and, if possible, who it is that’s trying to get at us.”

            “And stop them, I imagine,” Alan said.

            “Well, I think that goes without saying,” Alex countered.

            Alan thought for a moment.  He sighed and looked at Alex.  “Given that Ivers’ books are involved, I’m guessing that this has to do with some big-serious magic stuff.”  Alex shrugged, uncertain.  “End of the world, type of stuff.”

            “It’s possible,” Alex said.

            Alan faced forward, sighing again.  “Okay,” he said.

            “Okay?” Alex said, anxious.

            “Okay,” Alan repeated.  “On one condition.”  He turned to Alex, a determined glimmer in his eyes.  “I get to come along.”

 
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