The Legacy
Bulgerian Underground
by toni walker

Scene 20 Part 1

Boswell gripped the cool vinyl of the steering column becoming more uncomfortable as minutes turned to hours. He had purposely avoided the highways since resistance fighters were discovered only miles from the location pinpointed on the map. The ticking from his watch which normally wouldn't bother him grew increasingly louder. He wanted to tear the damn thing from his wrist and throw it out the window, but he didn't dare. It was from his mother.

During the start of the two hour drive, Jeffrey Sogard set up a mini-communications station in the back of the Range Rover. Boswell snickered to himself when he realized that kid could probably make a computer satellite link with a paper clip and a chewing gum wrapper. He was a regular MacGyver, isims and all.

A varment skidded across the road in a silent retreat from the danger his vehicle imposed. He slowed to let the creature cross making its hasty exit. He hated the country. City life was definitely the life he was meant for. The quiet of the Bulgarian countryside was getting to him. He couldn't decide if it was the smell of pure, clean air over the re-manufactured filtered oxygen of the office or the fact that he hadn't seen "real" daylight in over three years. He was one of the few old timers that preferred the night shift. It meshed well with his needs in life - with his personality.

Boswell was visibly uncomfortable. His ponytail hurt and his eyes could use a rest. He wasn't one for field work, and this damn sun was working mischief on his vision. Plus, his latest gal was waiting for him at her apartment. The thought alone was incentive enough to put his pedal to the metal.

"Got any eye drops in that pack of yours, kid?" Jeffrey was fiddling with surveillance equipment in the rear of the Rover as if it was a lady ready to be pampered. He preferred a hot body over a cold computer any day. He guessed the kid wasn't old enough for urges like that yet.

"I think so," he said absently. He reached down into his backpack with one hand and connected a wire to the back of his laptop with another. "Here."

Boswell took the offering, flooded his eyes with relief and handed the bottle back.

"How much farther?" Boswell asked.

"Couple of kilometers."

A rumbling could be heard not far away and suddenly the sky to the north burst into a cloud of dark brown. Within minutes dirt particles were pelting them with a rain shower of debris.

"What in the hell," Boswell shouted as a massive hunk of earth hurtled toward them. He cranked the wheel hard and the Rover responded sending them into a small grove of trees. A row of young cedars parted as the wheels trampled over the new growths. The Rover shot out the other side like a bullet landing back on the road.

"What are you doing?" Jeffrey cried from the back as he picked himself up off the floor.

"Take a look outside, genius. We're being attacked by a rain storm of dirt."

The young controller trained his eyes on the heavens. Massive rock hunks pelted the ground around them like tiny meteorites. In a quest to find the source of the explosion, Jeffrey had the computer scan the surrounding area. "It's the monastery. Put your petal to the metal. I have five life signs on infrared in level one. Three more further underground."

"I count that to be eight."

"Boswell, you're math skills are amazing."

"Just something I learned in school," he paused to chuckle at his own joke then said more seriously, "Hear me out here. The two kids. Ethan, maybe Octavia. That's only four. Who are the rest? According to my count there are four too many people in there."

"I can't answer that with limited information. Let me check something." Jeffrey hacked into Gia's personal profile on the Bulgarian mission. What he found was startling. "Count one of those four as Gia. She's listed herself on the mission manifest."

"That leaves three. They could be hostile. Prepare for anything." From inside his left boot, Boswell drew a small pistol. "Here, for protection."

Jeffrey handled the gun gingerly. "I can't use this. I might kill somebody."

"Generally, that's the point."

As the explosion reverberated through the monastery, Kevin grabbed Michela by the shoulders and threw her toward the archway. It was about as solid a structure as there was in the cliff-side dwelling. The support beams appeared to run straight through to the ceiling - he hoped. And as the walls collapsed around them, he shielded Michela from the brunt of falling debris. But even his protection couldn't save her completely.

A medieval looking light fixture hanging above them detached itself from the wall during the commotion and swung precariously close to them. It was that slight movement that separated the two pushing Michela farther away from Kevin. He tried to bring her back into the archway's safety but the light fixture had other plans. On its second swing, it plowed into him thrusting his body backward. The force snapped the rope away from the wall sending the strange fixture sailing harder into its prey. Luckily, it was the only falling object that landed on Kevin. Michela , however, wasn't so fortunate.

All Kevin could see in the limited illumination was a woman's hand under a pile of rocks. On her index finger was a silver band encircled with clover leaves. He'd seen that ring before. It was Michela 's. Ethan had given it to her as a gift when they were first dating. Now the token was all Kevin had to identify her with.

Wooden beams stuck out haphazardly forming a tiny triangular cubby hole. Hopefully, Michela was safe inside it. Slowly, painstakingly he removed rock after rock and boulder after boulder from around Michela 's trapped hand. Her fingers hadn't moved, and Kevin worried that maybe she was dead. But he had to force that thought from his mind. He resolved that no one was going to die here today. He was responsible for these people, and they were going to live no matter what he had to do or how long he had to dig.

The hallway behind the archway remained surprisingly in tact. He grabbed a lighter from his pocket and lit a few old fashioned torches that lined the walls. He hoped they were real and not replicas because he desperately needed the light.

Freeing Michela from her imprisonment proved more difficult than he imagined. Her entire upper torso and probably her head was covered in fallen debris.

"Come on, Michela ," Kevin taunted. "Don't go out like this. We have someone to save and I don't have time to try and save you too. So, COME ON work with me here!"

Something in his speech roused her. "Ethan?"

Her soft, barely audible whisper slashed through Kevin's heart like a knife. Why did she have to be in love with his brother? The man was such a fool when it came to women. Ethan had the most perfect woman, and he had let her slip away because of his damn pride. "Well," he mumbled. "Maybe there's a bright side to this after all. Ethan's loss is my gain." The thought of someday winning Michela 's love gave Kevin the needed adrenaline his body craved to complete the task of freeing her.

Octavia Kassoff stood at the two-way mirror sending icy glares to the inhabitant on the other side. She knew he couldn't see her but the mere act cleansed her vindictive heart a fraction. Knowing what was about to take place filled her with joy. Soon her plan would take shape and she'd get her ultimate revenge - the death of Ethan Fairchild.

A slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she checked her watch. One more minute and all would be right again. Months of work finally resulting in victory. Though few knew of her plan, those who did despised Ethan Fairchild as much as she. Octavia reveled in what was about to take shape. Her eyes narrowed as the time came to pass. Her brother's death would soon be avenged. And he could rest peacefully in death.

The destruction on the surface wasn't meant to accomplish anything more than distract Gia Doyle for a fraction of a second. Pity that so much devastation was required. The monastery was very elaborate, it made her feel good to be there. A strange emotion considering what she'd come there to do. The second the destruction provided would give Octavia enough time to let her co-hort Derek Lloyd into the control room and have him restrain the Legacy's co-executive director. Gia was one strong bitch and throwing her off balance was the only way to get maximal advantage.

She knew Derek would receive the pummeling of his life but in the quest for revenge the price had to be high. She was willing to sacrifice Derek for the greater good... or evil as it were.

As each bomb detonated a moderate expression of fear overcame Gia's features. Octavia watched carefully as Gia scanned the room searching for the source of the problem. She flipped on the outside monitor only to find static crossing the airwaves.

"What in the..." Gia mouthed, while typing commands into her state of the art computer.

Moments passed until Gia was able to establish a connection to the security cameras outside. The unit turned slowly doing a wide sweep of the upper level. All the camera found was rubble. Parts were smoldering but most of the first floor was completely gone.

"What's going on?"

"It's simple, really," Octavia said as she slammed her hand on a red button near Gia's left hand.

A buzzer sounded indicating entrance into the room. The door behind them opened. An unfamiliar man filled the doorway. He was easily six feet. Gia sprung to her feet taking a ready stance. Her eyes waffled between Octavia and the intruder deciding which might strike first?

Like a practiced ballet, Octavia and Derek performed simultaneous moves which threw Gia off balance. Octavia then high kicked her in the stomach. As her once ally bowled over in agony, the man appeared from behind and grabbed Gia around the throat. Steadily he held a large serrated knife there.

"Your plans for Ethan are finished, Gia," Octavia spit out.

Gia's face contorted in rage as she struggled against the man holding the knife to her throat. "The Black Council will find him - and you. They'll get what they want. They always do."

"Oh," Octavia said nonchalantly. "I have no plans of freeing Ethan. As soon as we escape, Ethan Fairchild is a dead man."

It was dark, and she couldn't see far in front of her. Something was blocking the light- something big. Whatever it was, it had to be massive. For a moment she wondered if her eyes were closed. When she tried to bring her hand to her eyes, a slight pressure drew her attention rousing her to an even more alert state of consciousness. The moderate force she exerted had multiple results. First, it made her realize something was wrong. Then the pain in her other limbs began to reveal themselves.

It was Faith's own scream that brought her fully awake. She tried to sit up right but a mass of agony that centered in her hand prevented her. When she tried moving her head a few inches, she discovered an unwanted obstacle. It was hard, it was large and she sensed it to be very heavy.

A glimmer of recognition hit her when a toppled cross lying beside her glowed. The bluish tint from her watch cast an ethereal glow on the rocks around her. She was still in the monastery -- or rather - under the monastery.

The pain focused in her head, and her temples throbbed in protest. As Faith rested her head on the uneven floor, she found its cool surface was a welcome distraction.

Fear gurgled up in her throat. There was no doubt about it. She was trapped.

Gia Doyle wasn't one for screaming. She'd learned in five years with the Black Council, screaming got you nowhere. Cunning and patience -- they were the name of the game.

So she waited.

Emerald eyes darted about the space two narrow green points of determination. She could smell the stench of the man holding the serrated blade, feel each sharp prang as he pressed it closer into her neck. Distaste welled up in her throat. The man's cologne was far from designer and it reeked sucking up the air in the room.

She struggled a bit, testing boundaries. He was obviously not an agent. He held his upper torso too stiffly and his stance somewhat stable could prove to be his undoing. Painstakingly, she searched for any other disadvantage.

The buzzing of the equipment around her grew more intense as she struggled to hear Octavia in the next room. Silence was her only answer. Ethan could be dead for all she knew. But his death was not an option. They had bigger plans for him - much bigger. And not even Octavia Kassoff was going to get in her way.

As she wriggled again, the man thumped her upside the head. She could feel the steam valve in her mind break. Enough was enough!

"Oh, you are so dead." Gia pounded the back of her head into her captor's. It made a sickening dull thud. He stumbled back, releasing her. She quarter turned, round-house kicked him to the stomach, and retrieved the Glock from her waistband.

The man stared up at her. Fear glinting in his eyes. "Don't ever underestimate the power of a woman," she said cooly.

Without blinking an eye, Gia shot him dead, then quickly turned, racing into the next room. It was empty. Octavia had escaped with Ethan.

Scarlett was lying face down, obviously unconscious. The back of her shirt was dark brown-red, as was her hair. It was hard to tell the subtleties in such a cramped space. It could be blood or just a strange shadow. He didn't know. Phoenix didn't want to speculate.

Above him rocks shifted sending a cascade of tiny particles down on him.. He wished he could cover Scarlett's face and protect her like a brother should but he was too far away and his leg was trapped beneath a large section of the ceiling.

"We're never getting out of here," Phoenix moaned, tugging at his immobile leg. "Nobody knows we're in here." He ranted even though he doubted many were alive to hear. "It's not like a house just fell in on us. It was the whole damn mountain!"

Phoenix's rambles woke Faith who had fallen asleep momentarily. All she could think about was surrendering to the warm, inviting darkness of sleep. And that damn boy was tearing sleep from her.

"Shut up," Faith moaned. Her voice was barely a whisper but the words echoed in her head like a jackhammer.

"Faith? Where are you?" Phoenix's voice brightened.

"Don't... know," her tone grew even softer, as if speaking was a struggle.

Hearing Faith's voice gave Phoenix renewed hope that maybe the others had survived as well.

"Keep talking. I'll come to you. Let me free my leg first."

Minutes passed as he focused on moving the large wooden beam. Part of it had splintered leaving a huge gash in his thigh. The pain had yet to register. Once loose he wriggled out from under his stone coffin popping out on top of the rubble.

"Faith? Keep talking. Where are you? ... Faith? ... FAITH?!"