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Shadowsteps	By : vsvigalante Category: DC Verse Comics > V for Vendetta Views: 912 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own V for Vendetta, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 9-- Fire and Ice

Gordon Dietrich hurried his pace along as he cut through the alley. It would be curfew in fifteen minutes, and he did not want to be caught out after ten o'clock at night. He had finished taping tomorrow night's show not long ago, and had decided to walk instead of taking BNN's limo. He had a little over three blocks to go when the three men stepped from the shadows in front of him.

“ Mr. Dietrich...” The first man approached him. Chancellor Sutler sends his regards...”
Gordon looked at all three men.

“ and, “ The first man continued, “ also sends his congratulations on the continued success of your show.” the man smiled menacingly. “ But...”

' Here it comes...' Gordon thought, “ They're going to bloody black bag me!'

“ He would be grateful if you could tone it down--seems you are giving Norsefire a bad name.”

“ And how would Norsefire's reputation be made any worse that it already is?” Gordon asked them.

“ You're talking about your government, Dietrich...” The second fingerman said, reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out a black bag and shaking it free. “ I'd hate to have to use this...”

“ Put the bag away, Roberts.” The first fingerman ordered, then glared at Gordon. “ The Chancellor may have a soft spot for you, but it doesn't mean we do.” He flipped the nightstick open to its longest length.

“ Yeah, it's after curfew, so we can dispense justice at our own digression.” The third fingerman slapped his nightstick across his open palm and began walking toward Gordon.

“ You don't want to do that, boys.” A feminine voice broke through the darkness.

“ Who said that? Show yourself!” The first fingerman frantically searched for the voice. He was familiar with Codename V, but this was a woman.

“ Anything to cooperate with the law.” The voice spoke from the shadows as a figure began to emerge from the darkness.

“ Lookee here...” The second fingerman smiled as Jazlyn stepped into the street lamp's glow.

“ Why don't you leave Mr. Dietrich alone, and run along.?” She asked smiling, the twin tridents spinning in her hands.

“ What's your name, sweetheart?” The first man asked as the three spread out and began walking toward the black-clad woman.

“ You can call me Raven.” She replied, “ Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't introduce my companion--” Jazlyn paused, “ Shadow.”

“ Brought a playmate with you?” Laughter filled the alleyway, but stopped as suddenly as it had began when the panther came to stand beside her mistress.

Gordon looked from the panther to the black-clad woman, to the three fingerman. He suddenly realized it was Jazlyn and Shadow as a large snarl erupted from the panther's mouth.

“ Not another bloody one...” the man rolled his eyes, “ then continued, “ and this kitty brought claws with her.”

“ She also has teeth.” Jazlyn grinned as a gun was pulled and a trigger cocked. “ Not a good idea, wouldn't you agree, Shadow?”

“ Yes, Mistress.”

Jazlyn made a small movement with her hand, and the panther took on an ethereal aura about her, walking toward the men. Gordon leaped out of the way just as the gun fired. The hit was dead center of Shadow's chest, but passed through her, embedding itself into the nearby wall.

“ What the bloody hell...” The gunman gasped as the panther was upon him in a matter of seconds.

“ Anyone else want to play?” Jazlyn asked moving toward the remaining two men. She looked over to where Shadow was astride the heavyset man, her gaping jaws, inches from his face. “ Give this warning to your so called chancellor. Tell him the resistance is alive and well, growing more each day, and a new face is in town to help with V's fight.” She grinned. “Shadow, come.”

“ Head this warning, human. Next time, I will eat you.” Shadow spoke in her purr-like voice as she stepped off man.

Jazlyn looked at the remaining two as they helped their comrade to his feet. “ Now, get out of here!” She watched as all three hurried down the alleyway and into the darkness.

“ Mr. Dietrich, as you all right?” She asked as Gordon emerged from the shadows and into the light.

“ I'm all right, “ He paused, looking at her, “ Good gods woman, what are you doing?!”

“ What you told me to do.” She answered as a form emerged from the darkness beside them.

“ Good evening, Gordon, Raven.” V bowed to them.

“ I feel privileged. A visit from New London's most famous terrorist and his protege. “ Gordon laughed softly.

V did not acknowledge the remark Gordon had made, but stood quietly, his hands by his side.

“ Master V.” Shadow purred as she rubbed against his leg, her form, once again a solid mass.

V patted her head. “ I am grateful you all are safe.”

Jazlyn eyed him from the safety of her mask. “ Checking up on me?”

V tilted his mask toward her as a small grin appeared on Gordon's lips. “ No.”

“ Then why are you here?”

V cleared his throat, then spoke.” I heard the voices and came to investigate.”

'You, my friend are a lousy liar.' Gordon chuckled under his breath.

“ And...?” Jazlyn paused.

“ I have been tracking the fingerman most of the night, and was about to come to Gordon's aid, when you and Shadow appeared.”

“ Oh...”

“ I will escort Gordon home, Please return to the Shadow Gallery. I'll join you shortly.” V spoke to Jazlyn, his voice almost a whisper as he looked at her.

Jazlyn could not believe her ears. He was telling her to return home--like she was a small child! Well, she had other plans for the rest of the night, which included Gordon's input, but all of that seemingly no longer mattered, since V's appearance in the alley--so now, it looked like she would go to plan B. Jazlyn had located Delia Surridge's apartment address. She wanted to pay the coroner's home a visit and look for the journal she had seen in her vision.

“ Whatever...” She sighed, “ Com'on Shadow...”

Gordon and V watched as the two disappeared into the darkness. “ What are you really doing here, V?”

There was a moment of hesitation before an answer. “ I...I don't exactly know, Gordon. “ He began pacing the alleyway. “ I can't sleep, I can't eat--all I do is think about her--even my vendetta has fallen to the wayside--and the voice, Gordon, it speaks to me again--filling my mind with thoughts that are not mine! “ V's voice was becoming agitated. “ It wanted me to kill her, Gordon--it wanted me to kill Jazlyn!” The voice behind the mask changed, now, it wasn't as strong or as sure as before--it sounded confused and frightened.

“ Let's go back to the house, and I'll fix you a cup of whiskey and tea. It will help settle your nerves.” Gordon layed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

“ Yes, yes. I believe I would greatly appreciate that, Gordon. Thank you. ”

Gordon nodded his head as they began down the alleyway.

--

Jazlyn and Shadow stood side by side on the rooftop watching as V and Gordon disappeared. Across the street from where they stood, was Delia Surridge's apartment building, and Jazlyn wondered if V could have possible been on his way there when he had happened upon she and Gordon in the alleyway with the fingermen. There was still so much she wanted to tell V about her trip to Larkhill, but she was beginning to worry that if she did, it would push him over the edge. She hadn't told him about the drugs that had been used to completely wipe his mind, or the fact that his blood had been used to develop the vaccine for the deadly St. Mary's virus that Norsefire had unleashed on the population just to win a governmental election. Sighing, she started down the ladder to the street below. Shadow would keep watch as she tried to find the journal that held V's story at Larkhill.

--

Gordon opened the tunnel that led to the hidden room in his home, V following a few steps behind.

“ I see the alarm system has allowed you to come and go as you please.” V said as they waited for the light to switch to green. V had made Gordon's acquaintance not long after escaping Larkhill. He had found him along one of the roads leading out of town, badly burned and near death.

“ Thank you again.” Gordon pushed the door open and they stepped inside. The room, held all sorts of treasures--ones that V had brought to Gordon for his own private appreciation of the arts. One of Gordon's favorites was a poster entitled, ' God Save The Queen', a portrait of the now exiled Queen Elizabeth II overlayed with Chancellor Sutler's face. Also mounted on the walls, were pictures of Gordon and his partner.

“ I see you have the Koran tucked away.” V said as he approached the stand where a bright light shone down on the religious artifact.

“ I will always protect everything you bring to me with my life V. You know that.”

“ Indeed I do, my friend.” V had brought Gordon his first pieces of contraband materials after his initial visit to the Ministry of Objectionable Materials as payment for taking care of him in the months following the fire. V had spent time in Gordon's home recovering from the burns, and in his mind, if it wasn't for Gordon, he would not have survived--even though his body would have healed on it's own--it had been the comedian who had set through the nightmares with him during his recovery, and for that, V would always be indebted. Gordon had shown him how to cook a simple meal, sew his ripped clothes, and had given him the books to read as he healed. Finally, it had been Gordon who had given him the Guy Fawkes mask, which had become a second face to him. Gordon was the only family V remembered.

Gordon flipped a hidden switch that opened another door that led to his living room. “ Make yourself at home, I'll put the kettle on.”

V watched as his friend disappeared into the kitchen, then removed his hat and cape. The knife belt remained around his waist as he layed the discarded items on the coffee table. In a few minutes, Gordon reappeared, two steaming cups of tea in his hands. He handed one to V, and took a place on the couch as V sat down in a nearby chair.

“ You said the voice had returned?” Gordon asked, raising the cup to his lips.

“ Several days ago.” V answered removing the mask. Gordon was the only person who had ever seen V's true face as it appeared now.

“ Nothing is helping?”

“ I was in the armory practicing with Jazlyn when it happened the last time.” V paused as he hung his head. “ She saw everything--she saw the monster stir from its cage.”

“ You should stay here until the episode is over.” Gordon suggested.

“ Is the room still here?”

“ Just the same as you left it before.” Gordon answered.

V finished the tea and sat the cup on the table, his mind flowing in a million different directions all at once.

“ Would you like something to eat before you start?”

V stood up, his hands beginning to shake somewhat. “ No, “ he answered, “ We must hurry. I fear my resolve will not last much longer. “ He unbuckled the knife belt and handed it to Gordon. “ Please let Jazlyn know that I maybe gone for some time, and not to worry. I shall return as soon as I can.” He looked at Gordon, trying to keep it together until they reached the room. If he lost control now, Gordon would be dead in a matter of seconds, and he would be thrown upon an unsuspecting London. “ Thank you my friend.”

V barely got the words out as he headed for the padded room, Gordon following. Once inside, Gordon locked the door, placing the key in his pocket, took one last look, then solemnly walked away.

--

Jazlyn stood on the balcony of Delia's apartment, listening for any sign of her presence inside. Pulling a small dagger V had given her from her boot, she jimmied the bedroom window open, and disappeared inside. The bedroom was dark and she took the small penlight she carried from her pocket and switched it on. She was looking for the red covered book she had seen in her vision. This journal, she knew, held all the answers-- or at least, most of them-- about Larkhill. The only problem she had right now, was not having a clue as where to start looking. She had wanted to do the search on her own, without using the craft, but that was no longer an option available to her. She had no idea when Delia would be returning. Sighing, she began concentrating on the book, hoping her abilities would lead her to it. Within seconds, a picture began forming in her mind's eye. A red leather-covered journal lay nestled within a stack of papers--a safe--but where? Deepening the trance, she searched for the location--it was in Delia's bedroom. Jazlyn began pulling paintings from against the wall, searching. After finding nothing concealed behind them, she turned her attention to the closet.

--

Gordon poured himself a straight shot of whiskey and slammed it down his throat. He had checked on V just moments earlier, and what he had found had made him fear for his friend's sanity. He had found V crouched in the darkest corner of the bedroom, oblivious to all. Gordon sighed, this was going to be a bad episode, no doubt. He remembered the first time he had seen V loose control of his mind, and the monster emerge--one of violent outbreaks-- all the horrible things that had been done to him at Larkhill manifested through this monstrous thing. It was one of intense hatred, and deadliness. He would go to the gallery and let Jazlyn know what had happened. He knew that V did not want her to know the horror of what he continuously lived with, but she loved V, Gordon was sure of that, and because of that, she had the right to know.

He stopped by the room one last time before heading out to the gallery, listening to the racket coming from within the room that V had been locked in. Opening a small window in the door, he peered in. The room had been trashed, pieces of furniture scattered about, bed clothes, torn and shredded lay about on the floor. Straining his eyes, he searched for V. It was a few seconds later that a body slammed into the door--wild, red eyes that were not human, seared into Gordon's. V had lost all humanity.

“ Bollocks!” He exclaimed as he slammed the window shut, his back to the door as primeval moans and screams erupted from within. Thank god they had sound-proofed the room!

--

Jazlyn had searched the bedroom closet except for the floor. Pushing aside several boxes and pairs of shoes, she found the safe door.

“ Mistress...” Shadow's voice filled her head. “ The doctor approaches.”

“ Shit!” She swore under her breath, quickly replacing the boxes and shoes to their proper places and hurried to the bedroom window just as the front door opened, and Jazlyn disappeared into the darkness outside.

Delia Surridge closed the door to the apartment, and layed her keys and purse on the entrance way table as she walked through her living room into the bedroom. Walking into the closet, she pushed aside the boxes as Jazlyn had done only minutes before, and entered the security code for the lock. Opening the safe door, she sighed a deep breath of relief--the diary was safely snuggled within her papers. Smiling, Delia relocked the safe and replaced the boxes over the door. Ever since Chief Inspector Finch had come by her apartment a few nights ago, she had started keeping an eye on the diary. If the person responsible for the forty-eight murders ( Finch had explained that they had found fifty-six deaths and somehow each person had been linked to Larkhill, and out of that fifty-six deaths, forty-eight had been under unusual circumstances. Seeing that she had also be connected to the detention camp ( thank god he didn't know the real reason why she had been there)), it was his duty as an officer of the law, and a friend, to inform her that her life could be in danger. If that diary ever came into the light, her career as chief medical examiner would be over, and also, most likely her life.

She checked her wrist watch for the time--it was almost seven-thirty. Eric would be here soon to pick her up for dinner. She had to finish getting ready.

--

Gordon waited for the Shadow Gallery security system to unlock. It was only a few seconds later that he found himself entering the large room, closing the door behind him. “ Hello?”

Silence answered him.

“ Jazlyn? Shadow? Anyone home?” He called out, but to no avail.

Gordon walked over to the piano, laying his hat down. Looking around, he spotted paper and a pencil lying on the bench--picking it up, he found it to be an unfinished composition of V's. Gordon shook his head sadly. It was so hard to understand how someone with such a brilliant mind as V had, could become a raving creature locked behind closed doors. He quickly jotted a message down for Jazlyn, leaving it on the piano, then grabbing his hat, headed for the gallery door.

--

Jazlyn waited for Delia to leave the building before she re-entered the bedroom again. Passing her hand over the safe door, it unlocked. Jazlyn reached in and withdrew the red leather-bound journal, holding it in her hands. Closing her eyes, she concentrated as an exact duplicate appeared in its place within the safe. The spell would last only twenty-four hours, so she would have to have the book returned by tomorrow evening. Replacing the boxes once again, she exited the bedroom window into the night.

--

Peter Creedy smirked at Prothero. “ Bollocks!”

“I'm telling you Creedy, he was here! In this very room! Prothero exclaimed as he watched Creedy walk around the room.

Second in command at the Ear, Peter Creedy did not like Lewis Prothero--he thought of him as Sutler's lackey--a fat slob willing to kiss anyone's ass to get to where he wanted, including the chancellorship. He was wrong though, Prothero didn't stand a chance in hell getting that far--Sutler would be eliminated by his men—when the time came--, and he, Peter Creedy, would ascend to the chancellorship. All he had to do was sit back and watch as the terrorist, Codename V, did the work for him--eliminating everyone else in his way.

“ What'd he want?” Creedy asked, turning to face him.

“ He said the truth--he wants New London to know the truth.”

“ What truth?” Creedy snarled.

“ Larkhill--everything!” Prothero exclaimed.

Creedy stared at Prothero. “ How does he know about Larkhill?”

“ He was there!” Prothero now began to sweat. “ He was a prisoner.” He paused, regaining his composure. “ He knows about the experiments, the St. Mary's virus, Norsefire--us.”

“ Damn!” Creedy swore, “ Bloody hell!”

“ What should we do?”

Creedy stared at Prothero's floor. “ Get some of your belongings and move into your suite at BNN. You should be safe there.”

“ What about him?”

Creedy grinned evilly. “ Let me worry about that.”
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Shadowsteps