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Date Posted: 20:14:40 09/13/03 Sat
Author: Spin
Subject: Chapter Sixty-nine
In reply to: Spin 's message, "Revelation" on 22:34:06 05/20/02 Mon

~*~

Outside of Tailsmanic, Sara stood waiting for Gabriel to answer the door. From the shadowed corner at the end of the hallway, Nottingham watched. Sara leaned her head closer to the door when she noticed that the music had been lowered. She started pounding on the door again. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” Gabriel yelled back. Before working on the locks, he looked over his shoulder towards the closed bedroom door. Faith’s warning running through his mind. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and then opened the door.

“Hey Chief,” Gabe greeted as calmly as he could.

“Damn, Gabe. How do you manage not to go deaf?” Sara joked, making her way pass him.

“Hey if it’s too loud, you’re too old,” Gabe teased back. Keeping up with the easy banter. He locked the door behind him then followed Sara deeper into the apartment.

Nottingham stepped away from the corner and walked over to the front door. He leaned his head closer, hoping to hear what was going on inside. All he could make out were muffled voices. Nottingham decided to find other means to watch Sara. From inside the apartment perhaps. Recalling seeing a fire escape behind the building. He walked out and made his way around to the back. He immediately spotting Gabe’s opened, bedroom window and started to climb up the metal stairs.

Suddenly a loud shattering sound echoed through the alley. Nottingham stopped in his trek and turned to survey the origin of the sound. There at the end of the alley was an old man, strings of dirty blonde hair stuck out beneath his cap. His knowing eyes boldly staring at Nottingham.

Up in the bedroom both Ian and Faith clearly heard the crash. Alarmed, Faith moved over to the window to see what was going on. On the fire escape not far below her was the clone. His attention temporarily diverted to a familiar figure at the end of the alley. ‘Definitely have to find a way to thank Lazar.’ She thought but said aloud, “Ian, quickly we must hide. The clone is on his way up.” Faith informed. Her mind started to race. Just outside the door was Sara, and down below was Nottingham. Gabriel’s room was not exactly spacious. Where could they possibly hide?

Nottingham shook his head as if coming out of a short trance. He looked back to where the old man was only to find the spot empty. Confused, he scanned the open alley but there was no sign of him, the man had completely disappeared. After a final sweep of the area, Nottingham returned to climbing up the fire escape. He quietly crawled in. The room was a mess. A large mound of clothes was piled up in a corner of the room, near the closet. The rest were scattered all about the room. To his right was the bathroom, which left only one other door unaccounted for. Nottingham walked across to the door, slightly cracking it open so he could see outside. He immediately spotted Sara and her friend, deep in a conversation.

After locking the door behind him, Gabe had followed Sara to his desk where she had sat down in one of the chairs. He took the other chair and sat across from her. Without realizing, he started to bite his nails. A bad habit he started whenever he got nervous. Sara noticed it, “You okay?” She asked.

Gabe stopped and dropped his hands onto his lap, “So, um, what’s up?” Quickly changing the subject. Sara pushed aside his evasive manner and started to ask, “White Bulls. Ever heard of them?”

Gabe thought about it for a minute then said, “Uh, racist cops? Alabama ... George Wallace?”

“Wrong,” Sara replied.

“Albinos in Pamplona?” He guessed again. Though he already had an idea what they were but was puzzled why Sara would start asking him about it.

“Last chance, Gabriel.”

“Why don’t you tell me.”

“Dirty cops. Right here in New York. I need an overnight education.” She said.

He hesitated for a moment. Sara looked at him suspiciously, wondering just how much he knew. Acquiescently he started to say, “All right. I got this one client. A real conspiracy nut. I don't listen to half of what he says, but his checks don't bounce. You know?” Sara nodded her head. “He hates cops. Collects brutality memorabilia ... ax handles, lynching nooses ... Stacy Koon's Rodney King nightstick. I got five figures for that ...” Gabe added, remembering how much he got during that transaction.

Weary with the irrelevance on what Gabe banked on a certain item, Sara urged him to continue before he went on a different tangent, “OK, Gabriel, fast forward.”

Gabe shrugged his shoulders, “Nothing! He ... he's mentioned the name once. I thought it was his usual nutbag B.S.”

“Well what did he say?”

“He swears they have this engraved bullet they use to kill people. I have a standing offer for fifty grand if I can deliver a real one.”

Sara’s body tensed. She reached into her jacket pocket; fingering the bullet, her father had left her. She stared at Gabriel, debating whether she should get him involved. But he was the only person she could truly trust. The blade chose that moment to send her an image of Ian and Faith. Why was it showing her them? She couldn’t understand. “You OK?” Gabe asked, snapping Sara out of her trance. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Listen Gabe I need your help.”

“Sure, what’s up, Chief?”

“This,” she pulled the bullet from her pocket, holding it up between her forefinger and thumb, “Is a standard-issue Smith and Weston soft-tip, except for one thing.” Turning the bullet around so Gabriel could see the engraving on the round. “Ha…holy,” his eyes grew wide as he recognized the symbol for the White Bulls. Sara continued, “Now do you think you can find out who in the city could and would tattoo a bullet this way? More precisely, who did this?”

Gabe took the bullet from her, studying the engraving. “Yeah, sure I’ll see what I can do.”

“Look do what you can to find the engraver. But be so careful.” She stressed.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” He shook his head, already having a person in mind to ask.

“No, all I do is worry. I wouldn't even ask you to do something like this, but I'm desperate.”

“You can count on me, Chief.”

She stood up and said, “Thanks, Gabriel.”

“Mmhm,” was all he said, still inspecting the bullet.

He was so caught up in the bullet he did not see Sara heading for his bedroom. “Hey, Gabe. I’m going to use your bathroom then I’m leaving. Gotta meet Jake later tonight.”

It took a second before the question registered to his brain. He jumped up and ran across the room, yelling, “NO! Wait!” By then, Sara had already opened the door and walked into the room. Gabe grabbed onto Sara’s shoulder, jerking her back, and halting her from moving further. He was surprise to find it empty. “Wha… what is with you?” Sara asked, shrugging off Gabe’s hand.

“Uh,” his eyes darted around the room, figuring out where they could be. Until he noticed that, the window was still open. “Well, I, uh,” Sara waited for an explanation, “I didn’t want you to see my mess.”

Sara rolled her eyes and snorted. She looked down and picked up a piece of clothing off the floor. Quirking an eyebrow she said, “Oh, you mean like these Superman boxers?” she dangled the underwear between her fingers. Gabe turned bright red. He snatched them from her and hid them behind his back. “Exactly,” he said.

“Besides, uh, the toilet is, um, broken.” He lied.

“Really?” Sara eyed him speculatively.

Gabe nodded his head, “Yup, broken.”

“Huh,” was all she said. Something was not right and his behavior had been odd the whole time she was here. She did not quite believe him but did not bother to push it. “Oh, well, I’ll just have to wait till I get home.” Sara turned to leave when something caught her eye. Moving over to the bed, she leaned down to inspect the sheets. There were a few red spots on the white sheets that, to her, looked like blood. Not knowing why she reached out to finger the ring dangling from the chain. Something was vaguely familiar about this bed but wasn’t quite able to pin it down. Sara reached out to touch one of the red marks.

Gabe nervously started biting his nails again. He had to find a way to distract Sara. “Hey Chief?” He called out. Sara stopped and looked up at him, her hand hovering over the bed. “Ah, why don’t you give me a lift before you meet up with Jake. Want to get a head start on this engraving research for you.” She blinked a few times confused, then remembered about Jake and their meeting. She glanced at the alarm clock, realizing it was getting late. “Yeah, sure.”

Sara tore her eyes and hand from the bed and started scanning the room. She just had this feeling that there was something more other then Gabe’s dirty laundry lying about in the room. “So, why are you meeting up with Jake anyway?” Gabe continued with the distraction, “Don’t tell me it’s a date, Chief. I mean you and McCarty?” He eyed her suspiciously.

That got Sara’s attention, “What? No,” vehemently shaking her head, “Its not what you think.”

“Then what’s the deal?”

Sara sighed, “I owe Jake an explanation.”

“Explanation of what?” Gabe asked. Sara gave him a look. He held up his hand, “Whoa, are you going to tell him about the Witchblade?”

Sara shook her head, “God no, he’ll think I’m crazy. But I may tell him about the White Bulls. He is my partner and as of late he has been getting the shit end of the stick because of me. I owe him at least that. Who knows maybe he can help me out.”

“I don’t know Chief can you trust your partner?”

Sara absently rubbed the stone of the blade hoping it would give her a warning or a clue about Jake. Nothing, again. “I don’t know. I’ll just have to find out.”

“Well just be careful, Chief.” Gabe ushered Sara out of the room, grabbing his jacket before closing the door behind him.

“Yeah, yeah I will. Come on let’s get out of here.” Sara picked up her gear and they both headed for the front door.

Faith cautiously crept out of the closet when she heard the front door close. She immediately moved over to the bedroom window and watched as the figure of the clone disappeared rounded the corner. She rushed to the door and stepped out into the front of the apartment. By the time, she reached the window, Sara and Gabe was already speeding down the street, the clone following not far behind. She let out a sigh of relief.

“Next time I get the closet and you hide underneath Gabriel’s clothes.” Ian said from the bedroom doorway tossing one of Gabe’s undergarments over his shoulder. Faith shook her head, “Thankfully there won’t be a next time and I won’t have to risk my health hiding under Angel’s clothes. I’d rather confront the clone then stick myself under there.” She teased.

Ian tensed at the mention of the clone, “What shall we do now?”

Faith raised her eyebrow, “We?” she shook her head. “No, Ian. I will go out. You will stay here, rest, and wait for Gabriel’s return.” Speaking of her Angel. Just where did he go? Faith looked out the window, an uneasy feeling settled over her. Whatever Sara had asked him to do would somehow compromise his safety somehow or worst his life. She needed to find out as soon as possible.

“What will you do?” Ian asked as he settled down into a chair.

Faith thought for a moment. There were a number of possibilities she could do right now. Continue her surveillance over Sara or maybe pay a visit to her father. Perhaps she would do both. She walked over to Ian, “I will do what is needed, brother.” Giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “And what will you do, Ian?” her eyes narrowing on him.

He sighed, “I will stay here and rest.”

“Good,” she smiled.

~*~

Bells started to chime as the door to the small antique shop opened. “Hey, hey. Mr. Bankstrom, thanks for staying open. I appreciate it.” Gabriel said as he walked in.

The older gentleman looked up from the watch he hand been working on to greet Gabe, “My doors are always open to an enterprising young man who knows the value of hard work. Your reputation is growing, Mr. Bowman. How may I be of service?”

“Um ... well, recently an engraved item has been offered to me for a very high price. Now, research indicates that an authentic item of this nature may be worth what they ask. But, uh, I need to know if it's authentic.”

Mr. Bankstrom laughs, “Mr. Bowman, if you want my opinion, you'll have to be a little more forthcoming. What kind of item?”

Gabe hesitated then finally fished out the bullet and placed it on the counter top. The old man picked it up, pulls down a magnifying glass over his spectacles, and started to inspect it. “Hm, very high level of craftsmanship. A lot of work went into this.”

Gabriel observed the old man’s reaction to the bullet and wondered, “Your work?”

Bankstrom vehemently shook his head, “I wouldn't dare. This appears to be done after manufacture. Very dangerous.” Bankstrom stared up at Gabe from beneath his spectacles, “May I ask who the seller is?” Waving the bullet at him. Gabriel laughed and grinned, “Yes, you may, but unfortunately I won't be able to answer.”

The old man nodded his head, “Of course, I understand. Perhaps you'd like to leave it. I can make a few inquiries.” “No,” Gabe quickly protested, snatching the bullet before Bankstrom had the chance to place it in his pocket, “Listen, uh, please don't mention this to anyone, okay?” Bankstrom nodded his head again. Gabe shook his hand, “Okay, thank you for your time. I appreciate it. Take care.”

“Goodnight,” Bankstrom called out as Gabe exited his shop. As soon as the door closed, Bankstrom walked over to his phone and dialed. “Captain Dante.”

~*~

Faith slowed her car down, parking behind a line of cars just a block up from Sara’s building. Sara’s buell was parked out in front and lights in her apartment were on. Faith got out of her car and walked across the street. She hid herself in the shadows of the dark alley next to Sara’s building. Looking up, Faith scanned the rooftops for any signs of the clone. She knew he was here; she had spotted his car immediately after arriving. But where could he be?

Her eyes roamed the area, searching for him. Just when she was about to move positions she spotted him. Nottingham stepped out from the alley just across the street from her. He stood there, staring in her direction. Faith pressed herself closer to the wall, not knowing if he had seen her or not. There were loud distractions everywhere around the neighborhood but Nottingham’s attention never wavered from the alleyway in which Faith hid.

Faith molded herself into the darkness. Knowing that if she moved just slightly it would reveal her position to the clone. The last thing that she wanted was this creature’s attention. A chill ran down her spine as Nottingham flashed his white teeth into an evil sneer. ‘Damn it,’ she swore to herself. She could see his dark eyes wondering the alley. He didn’t know where she was but was very aware she was around. It was apparently that he was not the only one watching Sara.

Faith’s heart nearly sank as Nottingham started to cross the street. There was no way in avoiding this confrontation and so Faith prepared herself. That was until a large van drove across his path, temporarily blocking his way. Faith took the opportunity and moved away from the alley. By the time Nottingham had reached where she was, Faith was already gone.

He vehemently searched the area and when he realized it was empty, he spoke out, “I will find you.” Nottingham grinned, his hands curling up into fist. The sound of his leather glove stretching could be heard in the alley. Faith leaned her head back and whispered, “When you do, I’ll be ready.” She wasn’t sure if he had heard her or not, but Nottingham started to laugh.

The cat and mouse game between Nottingham and Faith stopped when the sound of footsteps were heard. Sara left her building, and started walking down the street, then turned the corner. Nottingham gave the alley one last look before following Sara. Faith waited before following both Sara and Nottingham. She wanted to put as much distance as she could between the dangerous clone.

While Faith watched, from a distance, as Sara met up with her partner, she thought about the clone. She had practically smelt the power radiating from the untamed beast. Shaking her head, she had to wonder what her father was thinking. To believe that he could control this newer version of Ian Nottingham. Denial. That’s what it was. Her father was deep in denial.

“That he is, Faith.”

For the first time in years, Faith jumped back in surprise. Her arms and hands held up, ready to fight. “Easy, little one. I mean you no harm.” Lazar held up his hands.

“You scared the crap out of me,” Faith yelled at him.

“My sorry my dear.” Lazar said apologetically.

Faith lowered her arms and composed herself. “So to what honor do I owe this visit from the great Lazar?” she teased.

Lazar smiled, “I am her to relieve you of your duty…for a while.”

Faith shook her head, “I can’t do that Lazar. I had promised Ian that I would watch over the wielder. Besides there is some crazed evil twin roaming about. Sara would need protection from him. And no offense Lazar,” judging from his frail body, “You’re no match for him.”

Lazar started to laugh, “Do not worry about me, my dear. I can very well manage.” He continued to laugh. Faith narrowed her eyes on him. There was much she needed to learn about Lazar. From what Ian had told her, Lazar was a powerful man. But in what way, she was unsure. So, could it be possible that this…person could keep his own against Nottingham?

“Well?” he said after composing himself.

“Well what?”

“Go see him.”

“You mean Kenneth Irons?” she asked.

Lazar nodded his head. “Why should I?” Faith asked.

“Forewarned, forearmed.”

~*~

After hanging up with Bankstrom, Dante called in Orlinsky and Burgess into his office. He sat back in his chair and eyed his two officers. “We have a problem gentlemen.”

“What’s up?” Orlinsky asked.

“It seems that Petzini’s little friend, ah, Gabriel Bowman was asking around about an engraved bullet. This bullet, gentlemen.” Dante produced a replica of the bullet and placed it on top of his desk. “It appears the kid is working for that Petzini bitch and is searching from some answers. We all know what she is like. Like some, damn dog with a bone. She is going to pursue and push until she brings down the entire White Bulls organization. I am not going to let that happen. I want you two to pay a visit to this Bowman kid first thing tomorrow morning. Then I want you to eliminate all evidence. I don’t want any witnesses, nothing. Anyone that she has come in contact with, I want it taken care of. Understood?” Orlinsky and Burgess nodded their head yes.

“What about Joe Siri?”

Dante shook his head, “No, I’m going to take care of him personally. I want you guys to concentrate on that Bowman kid and everything else.” Dante picked up the bullet and placed it in his pocket. He grabbed his coat off the rack, and all three men exited the office.

~*~

After arriving back home from his visit with Mr. Bankstrom, Gabe found his apartment empty, with the exception of Ian, who had gone back to bed. Before turning on the computer, Gabe decided to give Faith a call. Before going to bed, Ian had mention that Faith had been worried about him. He’d call; tell her that he was safe and that everything was all right. He picked up the piece of paper she had scribbled the number on and dialed.

On the third ring someone answered, “Hello?” Gabe sat there confused. This wasn’t Faith. “Uh, sorry, must have dialed the wrong number.” “No, problem,” the woman on the other end said and hung up. Gabe looked at the piece of paper and carefully punched in the corresponding numbers.

“Hello?” It was the same woman.

Confused Gabe asked, “Faith?”

“No, I’m sorry but you got the wrong number.” She said and hung up again.

Gabe stared at his phone then at the paper. Instead of making a third attempt he walked into the bedroom and risked waking Ian for Faith’s cell number. Ian groggily gave him the number, which happened to be the exact same number Faith had written down. Gabe ran his hand through his hair and exhaled. “Let’s try this again,” he said and started dialing.

This time the woman that had been picking up didn’t sound too happy, “Look would you stop calling. You got the wrong number.”

“Wait, wait!” He yelled into the phone, before she got a chance to hang up again.

“What?”

“Listem I’m calling for a woman named Faith.” Gabe asked.

“Sorry but like I said earlier there is no one by that…” The woman trailed off then paused, “Wait a minute. Does this Faith person look like….” She started describing and Gabe said, “Yeah that’s her.”

“Oh my God. I think we somehow managed to switch phones.”

“How did that happen?”

“My name is Natasha Marion. I was one of the attendants working on the flight she was on. While at the airport terminal we accidentally bumped into each other. We dropped our phones and a friend of mines picked them up. He must have unknowingly given us the wrong phones.”

‘Just great,’ Gabe thought. “Uh, would it be possible for you to stop by, drop off the phone?”

“Well I can’t make it tonight but I’ll be free tomorrow morning. Can I stop by and pick up my phone then?” Natasha asked.

Gabe ran his hand through his hair, “Yeah, sure. My place is at 111 Foster Street, apartment 11. I’ll be here, the name is Gabriel.”

“Alright, Gabriel. I’ll be over first thing tomorrow morning.”

~*~

Jake leaned back in his chair and started to say, “Diogenes was a Greek philosopher who walked around Athens with a lantern in broad daylight. Said he was looking for an honest man.”

“You looked it up.” Sara said incredulously.

He nodded his head, “I did, but it didn't say whether he ever found one.”

“Uh, some accounts say only when he looked in a mirror.” She added not really interested in the subject.

Jake on the other hand continued, “Meaning, if you want to find an honest man, be one.”

Sara shrugged a little, “That's the way my dad read it.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice, “Jake, I ... I gotta tell you something.”

“Hey, if this is about mixing partnership with our personal lives,” he started to protest, “It’s… all right.”

Sara shook her head, the thought not even crossed her mind, “No, no, no. Nothing like that. We have a problem in our department, a big problem. There's a, uh, force within the force. A bunch of bad cops. They call themselves the White Bulls. They've been around a long time. And, uh ... they actually killed my dad.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he was on to them. They mask as these righteous crusaders, but what they're really about is corruption, bribes, protection, the works. This McQueen murder feels like their handiwork. And one of their leaders ...”

Jake held up his hand, stopping her, “Let me guess, Captain Dante.”

Sara nodded her head, eyeing him a bit suspiciously. His ‘guess’ was dead on. Sara had to wonder about his earlier meeting with Dante.

Jake avoided her eyes and mumbled; “I knew there was something wrong there. So, what do we do? Go I.A? Outside agency? FBI?”

Sara shook her head, “I’m not sure.”

“What kind of evidence do you have?”

“Word of a witness, articles, reports. I even have a videotape my dad left me with specific time-date incidences.” She started listing off.

“Yeah, but your dad's been dead for years, Sara. Those crimes must be pretty old.”

“There's no statute on murder, Jake.”

Jake stared curiously then asked, “Who’s your witness?”

Sara held up her hand, he knew better then to ask. She may have told Jake about the White Bulls but she still had her doubts about how much she could trust him. As if reading her mind, Jake said, “Okay, you'll tell me when you're ready. Meanwhile, can I see the video?” Sara was rather reluctant, but she could see no harm in showing him the tape. In the end, she agreed. “You know our best bet might be the media. Get it all public. Make it harder for them to move against us.” He suggested.

“I thought of that too.”

“So who do we go to for help?” Jake wondered.

~*~

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