Love Lost and Found

Chapter 29/?

“You can’t expect me to do that!” Ludmilla protested, her eyes wide with fear. “I can. And I do.” David replied coldly. “I want out!” Ludmilla insisted with false bravado. “I already told you so weeks ago!”
“And I told you that I wouldn’t let you out as long as I might still have need for you. And I have need for you now. Remember what I can take from you.” “I know.” came the shaken reply. “I know.” And then, even more quiet. “What do you want me to do?” “Good girl.” David grinned maliciously. “I need the files on Bloom and Mortensen and some more Belladonna. Oh, and some more chloroform would be good, I think,” A resigned nod answered his demands.
“I’ll do it.” “I know.” David said, his eyes cold as ice even though he was smiling broadly. “But I’m sure you understand that I will rather take something to ensure your co-operation than trust your word upon it. You have already let me down once.”
“No!” Ludmilla screamed, jumping up and trying to block his way as she finally understood what David meant to do.

He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the door as the officer was finally gone. He listened carefully and the, after a while looked at the two desks. Which one was Goodie’s? //Ah... yes, the chaotic one...// He stepped closer and brushed some of the photos and the small, withered and slightly brownish Aloe Vera plant in its pot away, till he finally found the file he had been looking for. //Mortensen-Bloom-McKenzie...// he read, //Strange... why did they name the file after us?// He frowned, trying to make some sense of Goodie’s notes on the cover of the file but the officer’s handwriting was too crooked for him to decipher. //Maybe it’s just some way of cross-indexing...// He quickly flipped through the pages, trying not to look at the photos, after he had been shocked by seeing the first of them that fell out. His pain at seeing Bret this helpless and chained to the floor was almost physical, a sharp stinging sensation that pierced right through his heart. He had to get Bret out of there. Finally he found what he had been looking for. The letter. He weighed it in his hand, pondering whether to open it nor not. He sighed, his eyes watering as he stared at the half-shut venetian blinds that smothered the window. He was weary and his soul felt almost as heavy as the letter in his hand seemed to be. He felt a strange sense of melancholic longing, a longing for peace and justice that threatened to tear his heart apart in its intensity. He just wanted it to be over. Wanted Viggo and Bret to be safe. Wanted to stop the lunatic who was hurting other people because of him. And he wanted to stop worrying. Wanted not to have to deal with these things and the only way to achieve that was by putting himself – and his life – into grave danger. But he had already made up his mind.
The slits of the venetian blind blurred to a grey-streaked darkness before his eyes as he thought of how Viggo would react to his absence. The Dane would be furious and most probably beside himself with worry. But it could not be helped. He loved Viggo more than everything else and he would have liked to stay with the older ma, would have liked to believe that they would have had a chance to work out, that their relationship might have been steady but he knew that this was nothing but wishful thinking. Viggo was better off without him, was safer without him. Who ever had taken Bret might decide to hurt Viggo if he did not put an end to these happenings. He was doing this just as much for the others as for himself. Why could Viggo not see that, too?
Suppressing the tears, he opened the letter, relieved when two sheets of paper fell out. He discarded the one Torsten had read aloud the day before and concentrated on the other one, slowly unfolding it and then read the neatly-written words.
~
Just something I forgot to mention. If Orlando Bloom does not commit suicide, I expect that he be handed over to me at St Mary’s (I am sure that you know very well which church I mean) at 10 p.m. No police! He will be killed immediately if I see but one police officer. As will those officers who dare to venture into my realm. For this city is within my realm and I make the rules here. I have decreed that Orlando Bloom must be given to me, and therefore he will. One way or other.
The Absolver
~
Orlando glanced at his watch. 9.15pm. he knew he could make it. He just had to get a taxi. Hurriedly he ran from the station, ignoring the officer who called after him, as he already signalled for a cab.

He locked the door, whistling a small tune to himself to blot out the boy’s sobbing. He loathed abducting and hurting someone so young and innocent but he had not had any other option. Ludmilla was in his hands, yes, but he had to make sure that she truly co-operated. And what better way than to take her beloved nephew from her? She had gone to such lengths to gain custody that she would do everything to get him back. He walked down the shabby corridor of the run-down house, a self-satisfied smile plastered to his lips. Everything was working out just fine. If he got Orlando today he could be finished with that by tomorrow and then turned his attention on Michael, his treacherous partner, who had betrayed him by taking Bret. And if he played his cards right, he might even be able to put the blame fully on either Mortensen or Michael. Or maybe both. He was laughing out loud as he stepped onto the street. St Mary’s was just a few blocks away. He would make it in time. And if he had not underestimated Orlando during their previous encounters, the young Brit would be there. Willing to nobly sacrifice himself on behalf of his friends. It had fascinated him, how one so evil could mimic virtue so easily but he explained that with the increased powers of this incarnation. He had to be careful. Very careful. Orlando Bloom was probably even more dangerous than he thought. Even though he did try to properly assess and never underestimate his enemy. He would have run away, of course. Mortensen would never let him go. He was far too besotted with Orlando to do that. And that was exactly the reason why Orlando would be waiting alone in the church. He whistled again, as he strolled down the street, just another average young man that would probably not be noticed at all, if the green of his eyes had not been so intense and outstanding. Tonight there would only be Orlando and him.

He gazed at the sleeping Bret, pondering what to do. He knew David would not let him get away with this. He would never forgive him for taking something he considered his property. But he had had to bring the young Kiwi to safety. He could not allow Bret to be hurt anymore. He shuddered, knowing that they would never be safe in either New Zealand or Australia. David would come for them, no matter where they went. He was not sure how, but he knew that the older man could – and would – do it. The only way to get Bret into safety was to go to police but he would be arrested then. And tat would part him from Bret. Not even for a second did he assume that he would be safe in prison. Undoubtedly David had connections there too. His spies where everywhere. And yet he had to somehow slip through their nets if he wanted to truly rescue Bret. Sighing once again, Michael curled up on the sofa, still thinking but with a contented smile on his lips as he watched Bret, who was still soundly asleep, smiling peacefully.

Tbc...