Episode 124 Previous Episode	Next Episode
“If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, swims like a duck, then it’s probably a duck.” Criteria for the British Standard Duck Test Alan Vick let his exhaustion precede him as he stumbled up the steps. Drained beyond thought, he shambled to the dance club’s office and pushed open the door. Inside, Dante sat at the desk, his cell phone propped up against one ear. “Yeah,” he said as Alan came inside. “Yeah, thanks man. Keep me posted.” He hung up and turned to his exhausted leader. “That was our team up on the north end. Still no word on Everett and his band of merry men.” “That’s probably cause for concern,” Alan said with a yawn, leaning against the side of the door. “Man, I’m tired.” “We’re expecting a rumble tonight, aren’t we?” Dante asked. “Depends on whether or not Everett gets here,” he said. “Eliot’s reconnaissance indicated that. As did all three of our satellite teams.” “Yeah, well, I don’t know how much I want to rely on three groups of knights we set up in temporary apartments around town,” Dante said, leaning back in the chair, twiddling his thumbs in front of his red shirt. “We just did that to get them all out of our hair.” “Well, it won’t be for much longer,” Alan said, standing up, adjusting his black trench coat. “If Everett doesn’t strike tonight, then tomorrow, we’ll make our move.” Dante smiled. “Really?” Alan said nothing. He turned away, his grin growing. “All these knights,” he said, “versus all of them.” He turned back to Alan. “It’s going to be a thing of beauty. And they won’t even see us coming.” “Them-Everett, or them-…them?” “The guys at the base,” Dante said. Alan smiled as well. “It is gonna be good,” he agreed as he departed from the office. The blade that hovered over Erik’s throat glinted in the nighttime light that came through the bay window of the living room. Amongst the debris, Everett stood dangerously still, his eyes locked murderously on the foreign knight. Erik glanced down at the blade, feeling it against his skin as he tried to swallow. He glanced down at his own sword resting at his side. “Everett,” he said quietly. In a flash, Donovan’s thick sword was halfway out of its sheath. But in the last second of the motion, he was stopped. Sydney’s left hand was on the pommel of his sword, keeping it pinned inside, while her right hand held a short sword to his face, the tip less than inch from his eye. At the front door, Marilyn watched the four knights, utterly at a loss. “Everett,” Erik said again. “What are you doing?” “Prove to me,” he said slowly, his words hard with honesty. “Prove to me that Richard isn’t still around. Prove to me that you and Donovan are the only ones here, the only ones representing the Blue Knights. Prove to me that you had nothing to do with this.” “Everett,” Erik pleaded. There was a loud commotion as Roland and the other others came into the living room. The sight of drawn swords and angry stares stopped them abruptly. “Okay,” he said slowly. “So…what’s happening?” he asked harmlessly. “Everett’s gone nuts,” Marilyn said across the four. “He thinks Erik had something to do with this.” “Hell, that was gonna be my first question,” Ledger spoke up, making Erik’s eyes bulge. “Prove it,” Everett said, getting his attention again. “Everett, we’ve been with you all night,” Erik said. “Donovan has,” he clarified. “You were at the hotel. And this isn’t so much about you two as it is about possibly others.” “What others?” Erik exclaimed. Everett stepped forward. The blade of his sword cutting into Erik’s throat, he drove the knight back against the wall with the threat of death. Erik slammed against the blood-strewn wall, horrified as Everett let the blade bite just a bit deeper. “Do NOT f&*k with me!” he snapped forcibly. “Death has been part of the plan for tonight since the beginning. We were on our way to deal with Alan Vick and probably more than a few others. Now Morgan’s stepmother is dead. If you are not very, very forthcoming in the next few minutes, you will be next.” Erik, his breath sputtering, forced his breathing to slow. He took a second to compose himself against Everett’s fierce stare. “Everett,” he finally said as calmly as he was able to. “Richard returned to Europe because of the serious injuries he sustained. He is there now. You can call him if you like.” He paused, waiting for a reaction, but Everett just waited. “No other Blue Knights have come to the US. The three of us were specifically chosen so that we could operate with as small a unit as possible. Our first objective was to make contact with Red Knights for that very reason.” “Marilyn,” shouted Edgar from inside the darkness of the recording studio. “What’s going on out there?” When several of the heads turned, Donovan knocked Sydney’s sword away. He slapped her back, knocking her off-balance and lunged for Everett. The knight stepped out of the way, letting Donovan step past, right into the trio of knights near the kitchen. It was Ledger who struck Donovan against the neck. The viper-quick strike was followed up by a rapid barrage of light blows across his body. The result left him stumbling to the ground, unconscious instantly. Erik watched Donovan fall to the floor. He looked back at Everett who stood a few paces away from him now, his sword still drawn and held ready. “I don’t know what I can produce that will prove our innocence,” he implored. “I can’t prove how this happened.” “I might be able to.” The others turned as Edgar stepped out of the recording studio, looking a little ruffled. He turned around and reached into the darkness, gently drawing out another. In his grasp, he guided Rebecca into the light.
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