Christopher WunderLee - Moore's Mythopoeia

Joseph would be there too, hidden away, he would be preparing himself for the last phase of his mission, he would need her help and she, at least as one last action, could help him. All she needed to do was find him, or find him before Vincent did.

“Graham, I’m coming out to see you.”

“Well isn’t this a surprise. You’re always welcome here.”

“I’m going to stay for a few days.”

“We’d love to have you, Elisa.”

“I’ll be there in a few hours.”

“Are you all right?”

“Don’t be obnoxious. I’ll see you in awhile.”

“Okay. Drive safely.”

* * *

Captain Vincent had come out to inspect the Greene estate himself. He stood before his men (those not out on patrol) and regaled them with threats, promises and accusations, concerning the invader, the guests, and the protection plan. He had not yet reviewed the guest list, although he knew there was a chance she’d be there, because he was too busy coordinating the operation. The Players had gone underground after the raid. Not one of the leaders was captured. But Section 9 agents had recovered valuable documentation.

The department blocked all further distribution of the company’s books. Godfather was real. Arthur Dodger, a.k.a. Father Nicholas, a.k.a. the Wolf was a general, not the chief. They were all his generals; she was one of his agents. Section 9 was on the rampage. Section 2 was providing support. Section 6 was off the job. They were to guard the Greene’s and maintain their surveillance. If anything happened, Section 9 would be deployed to deal with it.

In just a few days, the maneuver was complete. The rumors and tales finally came to fruition; Section 9 was now the bureau and the department. Grunts of mindless action had overwhelmed the more deliberate and cerebral sections. They were now giving orders. Captain Vincent was a figurehead; he received his orders from any member of 9, regardless of their rank. The director was powerless. She would be picked up soon. Vincent was sure of it. It would not take long for them to find the connection. Then no A-list or Untouchable status would protect her, not even Graham would have a say. It was the beginning of the end for her.

Vincent hoped she’d show; he’d left things badly. He knew she knew who he was, that she was aware that he was watching her, and that he knew of her involvement. He knew she could see through his conversion talks and pleas. She was a traitor that he had come to care for, that was all, still a traitor. He had tried to help her. She had made the choice. She’d be sent for rebranding as soon as they caught her. It was the difference between he and them. He had seduced her and implored her. They would torture and destroy her. When he saw her again, she would be a vessel of her former self. Rebranded, medicated, hollow, but a citizen again.

A red convertible passed Point 3. She is in his car. Why would she come? Does she know I’m here? She does not know herself. She is running. A few more moments…

She never thinks of me, I was just another. She never thought of the Wolf or the father either. But she thinks of him, she has been thinking of him since she first took his hand.

She has been stopped at the gate. She will be here in a few moments. Let her through.

Captain Vincent leaves the guardhouse and begins to walk towards her car as she pulls into a space outside of the garage. She is in a hurry. Elisa steps out of Dodger’s car and absently turns toward the house.

“Elisa!” He is here.

“Yes.”

There he is, his jacket, the emblem of the bureau, the patch of the department, the 6 on his chest.

“How are you?” stupidly conversational…

“Fine. Decided to change careers recently?” she asks Arnoldianly.

“I’m going to ask you one more time, Elisa,” staying his course, ignoring her impertinence, “will you marry me?”

“No. I don’t believe in marriage between the species.”

“There’s nothing else for you to do,” he continues Paulianly.

“I see, you or nothing? You turning me in Vincent?”

“I have to, it’s my job.”

“Funny you didn’t mention anything about politics when we were in bed? Why the sudden morals?”

“You know why.”

“Do I? You’re the mind reader, why don’t you tell me what I know.”

“We have both known about the other this entire time, Elisa. Only I love you, that’s why I did it. You did it for your cause.”

“So, you’re going to turn me in because you’re in love with me, is that it?”

“It’s for your own good.”

“Like putting down an injured horse.”

“You need help, Elisa, if not from me, from someone else. The whole thing’s over, I’m sure you heard about the raid.”

She looks at him directly, quizzically:

“Yes. Thanks for the warning.”

“Don’t mention it again, I’ll deny it. It’s all over, we can go back to normal. You can either join us or be hunted like the rest of the rats.”

“I’m joining Vincent, I’ve already decided. Nicholas has run and I didn’t go with him. Doesn’t that tell you anything?”

“That you don’t give a damn about him.”

“Very profound.”

“I love you Elisa. Let me help you. I can protect you. If you’re going straight, let me help.”

“No thanks, you don’t want to help. You want me to be your good little wife. That’s not what I call help.”

“I can legitimize you,” Willardianly suggestive…

“I don’t want, nor do I need, you to legitimize me. Why it’s okay for you to perjure yourself and defraud but wrong for anyone else is beyond me.”

“I didn’t lie to you to try to catch you.”

“I know that.”

“Don’t you see, Elisa, my motives were based on affection? I could have arrested you at any time, you and Dodger, I could have arrested you immediately.”

“Instead, you choose to spy on me and then, when I initiated a face-to-face relationship, you kept spying on me and kept lying to me. You call yourself my friend, but it was all convenience for you Vincent. As soon as your director found out about it, I was dead. Who has the morals?”

“I wanted to save you — that’s why I continued. Do you really think I’ve done all this for sex? I’ve done all of this for you. Now, you’ve got to make a decision, Elisa, you’ve got to decide if you’re going for rebranding or if you’re coming with me.”

“So, those are my choices? Zombie or wife,” Persephonianly put. “All right, Vincent, if that’s all I’ve got, I’ll marry you. But you should know, I’m doing it for survival.”

“In time, you’ll learn to love me, that’s how it works.”

“You poor man, you have the stomach of a skeleton, so used to waiting for someone to give you your opinion on things.”

“I need to know, Elisa.”

She clutches her purse in both hands, face downcast, remembering Maija Hanley and the others… if this is what he wants…

“Yes, Vincent, I do.”

* * *

With her acceptance, he turned away and walked back towards his command post, whilst she, on the other hand, made her way towards the front of her brother’s home. He knew there was a reason for her arrival, and that it was not just to hide. She was involved somehow… Elisa entered the house without knocking, and had the servants take her belongings to one of the guest rooms, one overlooking the back of the house. No one thought it peculiar — she was a peculiar girl.

The estate had been in the Greene family for four generations, before Graham it belonged to their uncle Claude and he had left it to his favorite nephew. As children, the clan had visited the estate often, every other year, when they weren’t summering in the Hapsburgs; they summered at Cloud Ten Acres, and Elisa knew the house from top to bottom (including the cellar, where Graham had recently installed his famed armory [she never quite understood his fascination with old weaponry, but then, she didn’t really bother to try either] that was often featured on documentaries about the history of war and surveyed by wrinkled old professors at least once a month — like it was an archive. Graham had spent millions at auctions, estate sales, and the like procuring medieval long swords, lances, suits of armor, oriental bows, samurai costumes, rapiers, cross-bows, catapults, norse battleaxes, war hammers, morning stars, clubs, foils, knives of varying lengths, styles, and shapes, pikes, spears, shields, Zulu artifacts, Bohr rifles, Amazon blow-tubes, Herero relics, Lap tools, Reich ammunitions, American gangster rapid fire guns, wild west gattlan-guns & six-shooters, ancient missiles, helmets, flame-throwers, even Leonardo da Vinci’s cannon).