Episode 061 Previous Episode	Next Episode
Line in the Sand Dante Jones Age – 25 Current Occupation – Personal trainer, Martial Arts instructor (Keysi Fighting Method) Age sworn to the Oath of Chivalry – 19 Designation – Knight-Errant Weapon of Choice – Dragonfly Katana The grainy footage on the computer screen showed two men in sweat suits, face-down in the gutter, their hands and feet tied behind their backs like roped steer. Between them, as they struggled against the police who were securing them, a single red rose sat in the street water. Everett paused the streaming video and leaned back in his seat. Around the cherry red simulated wood computer desk, an array of handwritten notes and printed sheets littered the floor. Tossed about in a methodical manner, they surrounded Everett like his thoughts. The door to the bedroom opened and Armand came out, dressed in blue and white. “Alright, buddy, I’m off.” “Take care,” Everett said without looking away from the screen. “Try not to let Roland and Ledger get into too much trouble tonight.” Armand chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.” He patted Everett on the shoulder before heading out, his trench coat in his left hand hiding the long blade of his brand. Everett waited until he heard the door shut, then turned around in his chair and picked up some of the papers. Amongst them, a map of downtown with circles covering it. “He’s changed his pattern twice since we last tried to catch him,” Everett observed to himself. He scribbled a note on the paper, itemizing the order in which the sightings occurred. “This one,” he said to himself, pointing to the next-to-most recent sighting, “he had a gun pulled on him. And he managed to disarm the guy, but the gun went off. From what the guy said, the Rose was nearly killed.” He turned to the computer, bringing up a new page. “Police found no fingerprints,” he read off quietly, his lips barely moving. He went back to the map. “He’s got six different areas he moves between now. And each area seems to compose over six square miles.” He tossed the map down. “Jesus, how the hell am I supposed to catch this guy?” The doorbell rang. Everett looked at the door, then rolled his eyes. “Damn it, Armand,” he complained. He got up and stormed over to the door. With his hand on the handle, he paused. A strange sense of caution ran through him. Uncomfortable with the paranoia, he gave in and looked through the peephole. Alan Vick was waiting. Angrily. Everett hesitated, thinking. He glanced at his ninjato by the door, but left it where it was. He unlocked the door and opened it, standing confrontationally before Alan. The knight was about to speak when he froze, registering the white shirt and blue jeans Everett wore. He scoffed. “It is true.” He looked Everett in the eyes. “You sold your soul to the Europeans.” “I beg your pardon,” Everett said, stepping out and pulling the door almost closed. Again, Alan scoffed. “Why would you do this? Why would you undermine the potential future for the knights?” “Oh, I think that’s obvious,” Everett answered. “I think you’re out of your mind and I think you’re dangerous; dangerous to yourself, dangerous to those around you, and dangerous to the knights of this country.” “So you’re going to sign up with the enemy?” “The enemy?” Everett said with disbelief. “What makes them the enemy? They’re knights, just like us.” “They’re not like us,” Alan snapped aggressively. “They’re not US knights; they’re not red knights.” “When did this become a faction or a team?” Everett yelled back. “Oh my god!” Alan yelled, stepping away. He ran his hands through his dark brown hair and turned back to Everett. “It’s always been that way, Everett,” he explained condescendingly. “It’s always been that way. The US knights have always been the ones left alone, abandoned even by our so-called brothers in Europe and the rest of the world. We’re the unloved children of Chivalry.” “Okay, I’m starting to think there are some deeper issues with you on this,” Everett dismissed sarcastically. Alan turned away, on the verge of laughing in anger. In the single light over Everett’s door, the shadows the two cast created dark spots on the pavement. Outside the influence of the light, darkness was everywhere. “How many are there?” he asked, trying to reign in his anger. “How many…what?” “Don’t play dumb with me,” Alan threatened, his expression growing hard. “How many of the blue knights are here, in this city? What did they offer you to sign up with them? 20 pieces of silver?” “Alan, I have no idea what you’re doing,” Everett leveled. “And I honestly don’t want to know. I am just certain, absolutely certain, that anyone who tries to mobilize the knights like you’re doing, is going to mean bad things in the future for people like me.” “People like you?” Alan asked. “Knights who aren’t crazy.” Alan shook his head and rubbed his face. “You think I’m crazy.” “Alan, to be fair,” Everett allowed sympathetically, “I can honestly say that I don’t think you’re crazy.” Anger flashed in Alan’s eyes as he stared at Everett. “It won’t work, you know. Your counter-recruiting or whatever you want to call it, it won’t work. The knights of this country are still proving loyal to their creed, to black and red.” “Creed?” Everett asked. “Since when did Chivalry have a creed?” “Since we donned black and red,” Alan answered back. “Something you’ve turned your back on.” “I did it because of you,” Everett responded calmly, his emotions simmering beneath his words. “I did it because you’re going to get people into a lot of trouble or, worse and I’m afraid to say that I think it’s increasingly likely, killed.” “You just said you have no idea what I’m trying to do,” Alan yelled back. “Okay,” Everett said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the frame of his door, “what are you doing? What is your plan? Where is this all ultimately leading up to?” Alan looked away. “I can’t believe I made an enemy of you by trying to include you.” Everett stood up, taking a step towards him. “I’m not an enemy yet, Alan.” In a flash of light and steel, Alan held his cutlass out, aiming the weapon directly at Everett’s throat. “Maybe, maybe not,” he said harshly, “but you are definitely on that path.”
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