City of Villains
                                 "Ghost Thief"


     The world spun madly around me before I landed hard on my knees, just a
bare instant before my lingering momentum resulted in a classic face-plant.  I
was still essentially blind, having a ribbon of cloth tied around my head so
tight that it was giving me a migraine.  Having my arms bound behind me by a
length of rope wasn't helping matters either, but at least the rest of my
earthly senses still worked relatively well.
     It was eerily quiet around me as I focused, trying not to breathe lest I
deafen myself with the noise.  A lone pair of boots could be heard fading into
the distance, a clear and unhurried stride against the metal flooring that
suggested my captor wasn't in any rush.  That was usually a good sign, as few
jailers often stick around once they toss their prisoners into the proverbial
pokey.  It meant that it was probably time for me to finesse my way out of
these damn ropes that bound me in a most uncomfortable fashion.
     I'm not sure why I didn't start to work on the knots right away.  Granted
it was pretty quiet all around me, expected for a dark and dank jail cell, but
perhaps it was just a little *too* quiet.  The veil of silence wasn't perfect,
as I could hear rather subtle and oddly rhythmic rasping sound in the distance,
but who knew what kind of machine was making that metallic resonance.  Well,
the ones who built this place, certainly, but I was starting to get the very
uneasy feeling that I wasn't going up against the Malta group as expected.
     Regardless of the situation, I knew I wasn't going to get out of here if
I was still in a lip-lock with the floor.  Not that I minded a cool kiss every
now and then, but this wasn't exactly a bored Carnival acrobat I was lying on
top of.  Fortunately for my peace of mind, nothing was broken or permanently
harmed during my introduction to my new location, allowing me to get my sense
of direction ironed out to the point where I could rise up to my knees.
     My arms didn't care for the maneuver and started to protest in rather
unequivocal terms, prompting a quiet grunt that was just a little louder than
I would have liked.  Even as twisted as my wrists had been, I could still move
them with relative ease.  That made working on the knot less of a hassle, but
when you're fumbling around trying to solve a puzzle that you can't even see,
let alone reach properly, it tends to be an exercise in frustration.
     Fortunately for me, not only were my skills still up to par but it was
obvious that the helmted goon who trussed me up wasn't a sailor who knew how
knots were supposed to work.  It still took a fair amount of twisting and the
like before I got the knot apart, however, and so I chalked that particular
experience up as being either a five or a six on the one-to-ten scale.
     The rope hadn't even come off all the way before I was reaching for the
blindfold, trying to get the damn thing off me.  It was bad enough that it was
covering my eyes, but it smelled like it had been used to wipe the crud off of
some rusted piece of machinery in the recent past.  A simple tug was enough to
yank it off, allowing me to open my eyes....
     Just in time to witness an armored fist reaching down to grab the front of
my shirt.  Before I could even blink I suddenly found myself dangling in the
air, held aloft by an extremely firm and powerful grip.  As if that wasn't bad
enough, the first thing I could actually focus on were a pair of glowing red
eyes embedded in an all-encompassing metal helmet.  I suppose I shouldn't have
been surprised to see a spider sigil etched into his helmet, an identical match
to the marking on the helmet of the guard who had caught me at a really bad
moment, but a little voice in the back of my mind was warning me that things
had just gone from bad to worse.
     "And what do we have here?" a cold voice said to me.  His words seemed to
be chilled even further by the echo-effect of the helmet, a theatric result I
might have otherwise laughed at had I been on the sidelines and not directly in
the middle of things.
     Being in dangerous situations was nothing new to me, given my so-called
'career' as a rather skilled thief.  Truth be told, such brushes with various
law-enforcement officials and surprised property owners have become almost so
routine as to be borderline boring.  That's not to say that I'm caught often,
quite the contrary.  Few people ever notice when I'm poking around inside a
building or some other place I shouldn't be in, but mistakes do happen.  And
sometimes the other side just gets honestly lucky....
     "You know," I managed to say as calmly as I could, despite the fact that
I was dangling by the front of my shirt, "Perhaps I'm in the wrong place after
all.  You don't look like one of those Malta assholes...."
     I had learned long ago that nothing throws people off-kilter like showing
off the polish on the brass ones, even in situations where it really isn't the
healthiest of ideas.  Maintaining a calm demeanor seemed to largely work, or at
least seeming to remain calm.  Just because I'm ready to piss my pants in some
situations doesn't mean the other guy is aware of that little fact.
     The grip on my shirt suddenly tightened, giving me the impression that my
recent acquaintance was less-than-impressed with my attitude.  "You should be
so lucky," he intoned as he leaned even closer to me.  His voice sounded even
colder this time than when he had first spoken, suggesting that I needed to
come up with a back-up plan and soon.  The sound his breathing made sank in a
moment later, recognizable now as that metallic rasping sound that had me just
a little uneasy earlier.  Granted I long ago started to pay a bit more closer
attention to my instincts but this was starting to feel like one of *those*
nights already, the kind where you're doomed to wake up the next morning in
some dark alley asking yourself why couldn't they have been nice enough to put
you out of your intense misery.
     "Alright," I said to the helmeted figure.  "So while I seem to have your
attention span, would you mind if I asked just who you guys are?  Just so I
don't make this mistake again," I added, trying to act as if we were simply
discussing the weather instead of my immediate future.  Or lack thereof....
     "I assure you that you will not make the same mistake ever again," the
figure warned me ominously.  "And if you don't know who I am, then allow me to
grant you some perspective...."
     The room promptly became a blur as he pulled me forward, only to almost
literally catapult me across half the length of the room.  I landed hard on my
ass and skidded several feet before fetching up against a rather solid object.
I thought it might have been a metal cargo container of some sort, but I had
more pressing issues on my mind at the moment.  I tried to roll with most of
the force, going limp like a ragdoll to minimize the number and severity of
bruises I was likely to acquire.  Despite the sudden profusion of aches and
pains in a number of places, it felt like I actually fared rather well for
being tossed like a human lawn-dart.
     Now that there was some distance between me and everything else, I was
able to look around and get a feel for where I was at.  It was pretty clear at
first glance that I wasn't in some expanded basement of the coastal lighthouse
I had entered earlier.  The whole room seemed to be a rather dimly-lit command
center of some kind, a somewhat eerie cross between the rigid, military-style
prefabrications of an underground Council base and the electric ambience of a
Freakshow hangout.  A sick combination to be sure, but it seemed to blend well
enough for somebody's purposes.
     But the thing that turned the contents of my intestines into an icy slush
wasn't the obviously expensive hardware surrounding me, but rather the outline
of the armored figure that somehow managed to loom over me, even from several
feet away.  Eight metallic spider-like appendages seemed to sprout from his
back like so many jointed stingers, and the crimson glow in his eyes was just
as fierce from a distance as it was all up close and personal.
     There was, of course, only one man who even remotely came close to having
such a physical description.  And it would be my luck to have broken into what
I thought was a profitable little art gallery only to discover it's not some
Malta hideout, but something just a little bit worse.  Okay, a lot worse.  The
big question now, however, was how the hell I was going to get my ass out of
this one with all my major organs intact....
     "You're him," I said in a loud whisper of faked shock.  "The spider-man
everyone has been talking about...."
     "Lord Recluse," he said in a dark tone.
     I knew his name of course, as one would have to live under a completely
waterproof rock not to have heard of him.  However, I have learned over the
years that you don't let the other side know just how much you know if it can
be helped.  The better to let them underestimate you by writing you off as a
dullard.  I had the unsavory feeling that it might not work very well against
a criminal mastermind like the dark legend staring at me, but it was still
worth a shot.
     "My apologies, my lord," I said with a note of contriteness that wasn't
entirely faked.  I figured that with the situation being as bad as it was, I
didn't need to throw fuel on the fire by being rude.  I slowly and carefully
rose to my feet, trying not to make any sudden moves as I dusted myself off.
"Anthony Saffron, at your service," I added with a faint sketch of a bow.  It
wasn't my real name, of course, but rather a common alias that certain people
on the street knew me by.  Not that it was likely to matter to him, but it's
still polite to introduce yourself when conversing with someone.
     "The Ghossst Thief," a voice hissed from one of the darkened doorways.  A
misshapen figure entered the room, moving so softly that not even my trained
ears could detect the slightest hint of a sound to betray his movements.  I
knew without even looking at his face that this was someone I would have to be
very careful with, as it often takes someone skilled in the ways of darkness
and silence to deal with one.  "Long have I hunted for the one who breaksss
into my warehousesss," he added as he cast a truly venomous look at me.
     Great, as if my situation wasn't bad enough to begin with.  Not that I
really minded the fact that someone knew of my reputation, which I suppose I
should be proud of.  No, the problem wasn't that I had to deal with a truly
evil legend, but now I had to deal with his pet shark-man as well.  I knew of
Captain Mako, of course, just as easily as I had heard of Lord Recluse and the
rest of his followers, but I still didn't cherish the less-than-heartwarming
prospect of actually having to meet the guy.
     "That would indeed be the name the local law enforcement has taken to
calling me," I admitted aloud.  "However, I doubt I am the one you have been
seeking.  There are a great many men and women who ply the same trade I do, and
I very rarely bother with anyone's warehouses.  They're a little too open and
exposed for my tastes," I added calmly.
     While that was far from the honest truth, as I happened to favor certain
shipyards and warehouses for their ease of access and plethora of shadows to
hide in, I have actively avoided accepting any assignments or doing anyone a
favor if it involved anything known to be associated with the mutant pirate.
I had heard one too many horror stories about what he had done to those who had
been captured red-handed in the act of burglary on his premises, and so that
was a fate I rather wished to avoid.  Of course, I may have accidentally raided
a warehouse or three of his, but not knowingly....
     "Mako," Recluse said in a slightly curious tone.  "Where did your men find
him?  And why was I not alerted that we had an intruder?" he added in a far
more dangerous voice.
     Captain Mako seemed to hesitate before making a very soft hissing sound to
himself.  I had to admit that, were I in his place and hearing that icy voice
bearing down on me with obvious displeasure, I probably would have had a case
of the willies myself.  "They caught him in one of the storage roomsss outside
the reactor," he said.  "I have already chewed out the Sssecurity guardsss for
thisss incident."
     It was, in my view, not exactly a comforting image to contemplate.  With
those teeth of his and penchant for violence, I could all too easily see a
puddle of blood and viscera strewn on the floor after his 'discussion' with the
security guards.  Of course, now that I think about it, maybe that's why a good
measure of the floor was composed of easily-washed grated metal....
     "And none of our alarms were triggered?" Recluse demanded, his ruby-red
eyes narrowing down to mere slits.
     "Don't blame him," I spoke up without thinking.  I was kicking myself in
the ass a moment later over my impulsive bragging, as it wasn't a good idea to
draw the wrath of your enemy when it's directed at someone else.  Still, the
deed was done, so all that was left was to follow through.
     "Your sensor alarms weren't easy to get past, but they weren't any better
than some of the tech those Malta guys have.  Besides," I added with a shrug of
dismissal that was delivered with far more casualness on the outside than what
I was feeling on the inside, "I do this sort of thing for a living."
     It was largely the truth, granted.  Laser technology can be a wonderful
thing when used properly, but it makes for some rather poor tripwires given the
fact that it can be so easily 'seen' with the right tools.  Motion sensors were
another issue entirely, and the pair I discovered inside the lighthouse were a
bitch to cope with, but those too can be finessed if you have a lot of time on
your hands and a very steady sense of balance.
     "Not for longsss," Mako promised with a dark hiss, obviously referring to
my previous words.  He paused and cast a quick glance over his shoulder at the
sound of heavy footsteps, hissing again as a pair of figures entered the room.
     His momentary distraction provided me with a very narrow window in which
to act, as there were some shadows nearby that I could blend into if I could
just make it those few feet without being spotted.  Unfortunately for me, a
quick glance over at Lord Recluse showed that he was actively watching me very
closely.  I wasn't about to risk the situation, or at least not yet, and so I
stood my ground and turned my attention to the new arrivals while trying not to
let my dismay show.  Bad enough there had been two villains to deal with, but
now there were four.
     Even despite the odds, I knew I could all but ignore the goon tromping
around the oversized suit of heavy metal armor.  It was easy to see I didn't
have a Toyota's chance in Detroit of being able to take him down, even if a
surprise attack had been possible, but on the flipside it was also fairly easy
to see that his bulk wouldn't let him chase after someone as fast and agile as
I was.  Not that I intended on pissing him off in the slightest, as one flex of
that arm could probably turn me into a bloody Rorschach blot on the floor, but
it's still the thought that counts.  But as for the other guy....
     "Hey, I hear we have a party-crasher?" Black Scorpion called out as he
stomped into the room, cracking his knuckles loudly.  He quickly glanced around
and spotted me, his expression changing slightly.  "What, this puny lil' punk
here?  Ya gotta be kiddin' me," he scoffed.
     Okay, so the big boy wasn't impressed with me, that I could live with.  I
have to say the feeling was mutual, and I'll bet he probably wasn't nearly a
fraction as hoss outside of his fancy tin-can, but that was academic debate.
What concerned me far more was the Arabian gent with the scimitar on his belt.
Not that I was worried about the sword, but rather the grudge he might still
have after our first encounter in an underground cave....
     "You," Scirocco snarled softly as he recognized me.  His scimitar seemed
to leap off his belt and into his hand in the blink of an eye, and had I not
been watching his hands carefully for just that movement I might have thought
that magic had been employed.
     "You know him, Scirocco?" Recluse inquired warily.
     Oh, yeah, things just got ugly, alright.
     "He is a common thief," Scirocco said flatly as he put some space between
himself and the imposing bulk of Black Scorpion.  His scimitar was carefully
whirled around in a slow circle as he moved, his dark eyes never leaving mine
for an instant.  "I caught him breaking into.... a place he should not have
been in," he said, a brief but discernible hesitation evident in his words.
"I do not know how he managed to slip away from me back then, but I have kept
an eye out for him ever since."
     To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how I managed to give him the slip
either, but I just chalked it up as an equal measure of skill and luck.  Of
course, it had been an incredible stroke of bad luck to have encountered him in
the first place, as my target that evening had been a rather uppity Circle of
Thorns mystic and his collection of rare gems, but I knew that luck tended to
even itself out over time.
     "I was just doing a job for an old associate," I protested calmly as I
raised my hands, making sure they were empty and clearly visible to everyone
else.  Granted I was far from unarmed, having a number of small devices within
easy reach that could be used to distract or disable, but they weren't aware of
that.  Or at least, they shouldn't be.  "After all, how was I supposed to know
you were in the process of taking over a supposedly well-hidden Circle of
Thorns hideout just then?"
     "Heh, looks like someone forgot to lay out the welcome mat," the heavily
armored Black Scorpion sneered, prompting a very faint hissing-chuckle from
Captain Mako.  "Whassa matter, the Desert Wind couldn't deal with a two-bit
thief on his own or sumthin'?"
     The taunt was everything that could have been hoped for at that instant,
as it caused Scirocco to turn his head away to glare at him instead of me for
just long enough.  Another dangerously narrow window of opportunity arose, but
this time luck was with me.  Black Scorpion was leering at Scirocco, Scirocco
was returning the favor, Captain Mako was likewise glancing at Scirocco, and
for some unknown reason Lord Recluse was glancing over at a monitor display.
     The human eye was naturally drawn to movements detected in the peripheral
vision, and so I knew I had to rely on a method of keeping their focus away
from me as I made my escape.  Fortunately, I have had more than ample practice
in this sort of move given a number of encounters with the police and several
others with the righteous weed of 'justice' growing out of their backsides.
     Tucked into my sleeve at the wrist was a small device the size of a stick
of bubble-gum, little more than a tungsten filliment wired to a tiny battery
with a simple switch.  It was rather cheap in terms of construction and had
absolutely no design elegance to it, but it did what it was supposed to do.
The device was extracted from its housing with a simple grabbing motion of my
hand, my thumb flicking the switch closed I cast it down on the ground between
me and them.  Then I closed my eyes and took a leap backwards, knowing just
where I wanted to be and letting my reflexes take me there.
     With the circuit closed, the energy from the battery was allowed to flow
through the wiring and across the tungsten filliment.  The same element used in
lightbulbs, it immediately began to luminesce as it became ionized, the glow
almost quadrupling in intensity a fraction of a second later as it also began
to oxidize and overheat.  The end result was a bright flash of light that was
the herald of the death of any lightbulb, only this one was on the order of a
three-hundred watt bulb.  And since the human eye was drawn to movement, the
eyes of the villains had been reflexively tracking my proverbial 'ace up the
sleeve' when it flashed into a very brief but still blinding brilliance.
     I usually counted on the flash-bomb to buy me two full seconds of time in
which to act, either to lash out to disable or to hide and evade.  However, as
the odds were seriously stacked against me right now, I felt it was better to
only presume a single second of free-action time.  I used that time as best as
I could, diving into the shadows and edging back as far as I dared to before
remaining perfectly still so as not to attract further attention.  My dark garb
blended in nicely with my surroundings for once, a result that was more often
than not unachieveable in any given environment.  In any case, my brief moment
of distraction was over and now it was time to put my hiding skills to the
ultimate test.
     "FIND HIM!" someone roared in a voice loud enough to rattle the walls.  I
suppose that might have been Lord Recluse exercising his lungs, but I wouldn't
have discounted Scirocco being a little put-off at my escape.  The fact that
they were screaming to find me meant that they didn't see me any more, which
suggested that I had managed to successfully vanish like my namesake.  It was
not the first time that I had 'ghosted' out from right underneath someone's
nose, and if my skills were as up to par as I needed them to be right now, it
wouldn't be the last time either.  If I could remain undetected for the first
critical moments then the rest would be all relatively downhill, as it was far
easier to remain a part of the shadows and evade detection than to regain that
near-invisibility once lost.
     Each second was dangerously precious as it slipped past, leaving me cold
and numb with fear as I watched them spread out.  I knew now that I had been
successful in flash-blinding them for a moment, as they all seemed to be in a
slight daze.  Lord Recluse seemed to recover first, shaking his head for an
instant before reaching up to crush the empty air in his fist.
     "Find him," he intoned in a quiet but distinctly lethal manner.
     It would have been interesting to see how long their search would have
taken and what the end result would have been.  Unfortunately for me, luck was
in a very fickle mood tonight and apparently had a change of heart following my
somewhat spectacular disappearing act.  The sound of Recluse's voice had barely
faded from the air when I felt a distinctly cold hand on the back of my neck.
The grip was more than a little rough and unfriendly, but that soon became the
least of my worries when I felt a surge of energy, followed by the blurring of
my senses as I was thrown forward to taste-test the ground for the second time
in ten minutes.
     "Lose something, my lord?" a feminine voice said in mild amusement.  I
quickly glanced over my shoulder towards the pocket of shadows I had moments
ago been hiding in, cursing myself for forgetting that Lord Recluse's inner
circle hadn't been present in its entirety when I tried my little trick.  And
just to add insult to injury, it would be *her* of all people....

                *               *               *               *

     I first heard of her as I was robbing a house in the old district, one
that I wouldn't discover until much later that was owned by a fortunata of some
notoriety.  It had been empty when I entered it, and seemed to remain so as I
helped myself to a few undoubtedly expensive items that would fetch a decent
price from the right buyer.  The soft words had emerged from the darkness when
I reached out to touch a small ruby crystal, whispering a warning that chilled
my blood in a way nothing else had ever been able to do.

     Beware the shadows, thief, for they will not hide you from the cold
      eyes of the Ghost Widow until her spirit is made warm once again.

     Searching the house assured me that I was still alone, leaving me with the
impression that it had been a recording of some sort designed to deter thieves
such as I from making off with their prized possessions.  Indeed, it had almost
worked, too, up until I determined that there weren't any more such traps or
other whispering surprises around.  I made tried to put the incident out of my
mind as I made off with a few small trinkets that indeed netted me a pretty
penny once they were properly disposed of.
     It wasn't until a month or two later that I discovered just who it was
that I had robbed.  Normally it wouldn't have bothered me in the slightest to
learn I had just lightened the wallet of a seeress, as I figured that if they
could truly see the future they would have known I was coming.  For some odd
reason, though, the memory of the whispered warning started to haunt me in my
sleep after I was educated on who owned what property in the area.
     I finally got curious enough to start a little informal reasearch into
this "Ghost Widow" I was supposed to watch out for, and let me say that it was
not an easy thing.  The usual informants on the street tended to get very edgy
and unusually uncooperative whenever I mentioned the name, and so I finally had
to resort to applying a little 'peer pressure' to a few sensitive places to get
the information that I had been fishing for.
     It seems that not too long ago there was a Night Widow operation of some
kind that went fairly sour.  Last I recall, Night Widows were a very special
association of female assassins, the kind men would be willing to die for in
many ways and for a number of reasons.  At any rate, the botched job that was
mentioned resulted in the wiping out of an entire cell of such Night Widows,
including one Belladonna Vetrano.  Nobody I talked to could provide me with any
concrete details as to how or why, but it seems that Lady Vetrano's spirit was
somehow able to continue existing after her physical body gave up the ghost, as
it were.
     Rumor had it that the newly-risen Ghost Widow haunted the place where she
died for a period of time, then started to roam about on her own.  It was also
said that she remains as ethereal as a true ghost, but can manifest herself as
a corporeal entity if she desires to.  I was never sure why the fortunata had
gone out of her way to warn me to watch out for Ghost Widow, despite the fact
that I was robbing her blind or at least to the point of needing glasses, but
not being one to ignore even casual warnings I nonetheless tried to keep tabs
on Ms. Vetrano as best a simple street thief could of one who was both alive
and dead.
     For a while I thought I was doing a good job of it, having a general idea
of where she was or might otherwise be on a given day.  Complicating the issue
were two details, the first being the fact that she was a night person like I
was and thus not easy to keep an eye on when I'm busy plying my trade.  It can 
be quite difficult to be keeping one ear to the wind for whispered rumors about
her movements and the like when the other ear is pressed against a metal safe
trying to pick up on the way the tumblers are clicking.  The other big problem
I discovered was the fact that she very rarely left any footprints of any kind,
literal or figurative.  If you thought trying to listen for the footfalls of a
local patrol guard was not an easy task, try listening for a sound made by one
who doesn't even touch the ground unless she's in a mood to do so.
     It ultimately settled down to the point where it wasn't so much that I was
trying to watch out for her as simply getting a feel for where she was at on a
given night so I knew where *not* to be whenever I felt it necessary to try to
scrounge up a little pocket change from my niche in the shadows.  So imagine my
surprise when my sources swore to me that she wouldn't be leaving her tower
tonight only to find out the hard way that the future, as seen by a certain
fortunata, isn't so easy to hide from....

                *               *               *               *

     She slowly emerged from the wall like the spectral wraith that she was,
passing through the solid metal as if it didn't exist.  I knew it was her body
that was all but phased into the spirit realm, but it was still fascinating to
watch in a morbid sense as she stepped into the command center, the pale white
expanse of her empty eyes staring down at me.
     In another time and place, I could have been amused at the irony of the
situation.  I, the Ghost Thief, had been outed by the Ghost Widow, and in my
own element at that.  Of course, coming *through* the wall was dangerously
close to cheating, but I wasn't about to argue the point with her.  At least,
not when the odds were five to one with me on the wrong end of the equation.
     "Whoa...." Black Scorpion rumbled, blinking hard at the way both I and my
new captor had seemingly melted out of the darkness like a pair of ghosts.  I
suppose it was an apt description given our respective backgrounds and choice
of namesakes, but I was no longer concerned with what others might be thinking
of my hiding skills.
     "Excellent work, Widow," Lord Recluse rumbled darkly.  "It appears that
our so-called Ghost Thief isn't as ghostly as he would have us believe."
     "Ghost Thief?" Ghost Widow echoed in a somewhat surprised voice, turning
to give me a look that was somewhere between studious and leery.  "So you are
the fool who thought you could follow me...."
     Excedrin headache number sixty-four: Finding out that you weren't nearly
as discreet as you were led to believe.  Not that I made much of an effort to
prevent word of my inquiries about her location and movements from finding its
way into her spectral ear, but I still don't like being played for a fool.  Of
course, having her toss me out of the relative safety of the shadows and right
back into the spotlight only added injury to insult, but one pain in the neck
at a time....
     "If I may, my lady," I said as I started to rise to my feet, making sure
to move slowly so as not to give anyone the suggestion that I was about to try
a new tactic, "I wasn't following you so much as trying to avoid you."
     "Oh?" she replied in a mild tone as she crossed her arms over her shapely
chest.  Don't ask me why she had chosen an all-black outfit only to use white
coloring for the section of armor that neatly framed her breasts.  Not that I
minded in the slightest, as she was more than a little cute in my book despite
her lack of a pulse, but I wasn't about to inquire about her decision-making
processes anytime soon.  "Explain," she commanded, using a tone that suggested
it would be in my best interests to do as she 'asked' of me.
     I never cared to be the focus of anyone's attention, as it tended to make
my life difficult whenever I needed to get something done without anyone else
noticing.  Being all but surrounded with five sets of eyes carefully watching
my every move was definitely one of my nightmare scenarios, but never in any of
my darkest dreams had I imagined being in a situation this deadly before.
     Scirocco was still gripping his scimitar tightly and giving me an evil
glare that clearly said he still wanted a piece of me.  Black Scorpion looked
pissed as hell, no doubt due to having been briefly blinded by my flash-bomb,
and Captain Mako didn't appear to be any happier with me either.  From what I
could tell Lord Recluse seemed to be over his initial burst of rage, although
it was hard to judge his mood from what little of his face I could see.  And as
for Ghost Widow....
     I gave her what might have been termed a casually charming smile, though
I doubted she would have found any actual charm in it.  "Let's just say that I
was trying to avoid fulfilling a small prophecy I had laid on me after making
the minor mistake of rubbing a fortunata the wrong way."
     Her expression immediately changed at hearing my words, her beautiful mien
promptly twisting from remote intrigue to outright suspicion that was more than
a little unsettling.  She took a single step forward before halting, suggesting
she had wanted to grab me by the shirt before changing her mind.  Her slender
hands curled into fists, and perhaps it was a trick of flashing dim lights in
the background all around me, but I thought I briefly saw a pale orange glow
suffusing into the air around her hands.
     "What prophecy?" she demanded in a glacial tone, her featureless white
eyes narrowed down to mere slits.
     "Bah, who gives a shit?" Black Scorpion announced loudly as he slammed a
fist into his palm.  "I say we just smash the little punk now and you can ask
him whatever you want when he joins you on the other side of the grave."
     "Agreed," Sirocco snarled softly as he whirled his weapon around for yet
another flashy display of his supposed prowess.  "But the thief will die by my
hand after losing his, as that is how such things are done where I am from...."
     I had to bite the tip of my tongue to keep myself from making a smart-ass
remark and making my situation worse.  Not that I wouldn't mind giving him the
finger at the moment, but I had no desire to turn it into a literal gesture.
     "I don't think so," Captain Mako hissed in a low tone.  "Thisss one has
stolen much from my warehousesss, and I would see him sssuffer for a great long
while for it."
     Scirocco cast a dark glance towards the mutant shark-man.  "So file an
insurance claim if you want to get your money back," he suggested.  "I could
care less about your smuggled goods, Mako, this is a matter of honor between me
and the thief."
     "What honor?" Black Scorpion scoffed with a cruel smirk.  "You let your
guard down and he got away from you.  Just like Mako's guards let the little
punk sneak in here in the first place," he added with a sneer towards Captain
Mako.  "Which probably explains why his warehouses keep getting looted by all
those two-bit thieves out there...."
     For a time there had been a persistent rumor on the street that there was
almost always some form of internal warfare going on within the highest ranks
of Arachnos, although up until now I hadn't placed much faith in it.  I mean,
such a potent and powerful organization surely couldn't be as effective as it
was if there was more fighting going on in the proverbial boardroom than out on
the streets, right?  Or so I had thought.  However, after spending a sum total
of five minutes in the august presence of Robin Hoodlum and his merry men, it
was obvious that there was more than a little truth to the words whispered in
the shadows.
     Black Scorpion's taunt seemed to strike a nerve, resulting in Scirocco
whipping around to face the armored thug with a snarl.  For a moment I thought
that he would have lunged at him but he seemed to check himself at the last
instant, gripping his scimitar so tightly that the tip was visibly trembling
with his anger.  Which, now that I stop and think about it, was a very good
thing.  Pissed-off enemies tend to make mistakes, and while I probably could
have relied on him making one if I was to provoke him into acting, I decided
that I just might have a way out of this situation if I was to apply a little
of my trademark finesse.  That, and a bit more polish to the brass ones....
      "Enough," Lord Recluse intoned as he turned around and headed over to the
throne-like seat at the head of a large conference table.  He sat down and cast
a dark glare at both Scirocco and Black Scorpion.  "I will not tolerate this
sort in-fighting.  Find a way to settle your differences and do it quickly, as
we have much to do tonight and I do not want to be delayed for any reason."
     "May I make a suggestion, my lord?" I spoke up, again without thinking.
Perhaps I was a little more rattled on the inside than I had thought, as I very
rarely found myself proverbially stomping on my own dick while wearing a pair
of golf cleats like this.  Having done so once earlier was bad enough, but now
twice?  Not that it mattered now, as all five of them were looking at me with
varying degrees of disbelief.  Time for the follow-through stroke of 'genius.'
     "If dealing with me is going to complicate matters for you, I should like
to atone for my accidental transgression into your lair by striking a deal," I
said as calmly as I could manage.
     "Hah," Black Scorpion spat.  "I can deal with you in three seconds."
     "Let him speak," Ghost Widow spoke up suddenly, causing not just Black
Scorpion to blink in surprise but Captain Mako and Scirocco as well.  I myself
was a little unprepared to hear her words of intervention, but it was through
simple force of will that I kept my expression composed.... at first.
     I turned to her and bowed my head slightly.  "Thank you, my lady," I said
in a somewhat muted tone that I was sure she would hear but that the others may
not be able to.  I glanced up at her for a moment before turning back to face
Lord Recluse, hesitating briefly as I could clearly see the look of suspicion
on his face despite the all-encompassing helmet he was wearing.
     The suggestion I had planned to make a moment ago involved making a plea
to postpone my likely execution until sunrise, but the brief interruption by
Ghost Widow suddenly changed the equation.  Perhaps I was grossly misreading
the situation, but I was starting to think that my mention of the fortunata's
prophecy and my stated intent that I had been trying to avoid her for a reason
had sufficiently piqued her interest.  That might not be enough to save my ass
from a case of razor-burn from Scirocco's scimitar, but slim odds of success
are always better than not having any odds.
     "You may find it hard to believe, my Lord Recluse, but there is more than
a little honor to be had among thieves after all," I said carefully.  "I, for
one, do not deny that I am a thief.  I know where I have been and what I have
done, and so I can state with authority that whatever grudge Captain Mako has
against thieves should not be directed at me.
     "Master Scirocco, on the other hand," I added, settling for using a rather
respectful form of address despite my contempt for his interference in what
should have been a 'simple' night of looting rare crystals right out from under
the noses of a bunch of Circle of Thorn mystics, "Has a legitimate concern over
my.... shall we say, unexpected entrance into a rather nondescript underground
network of caves in Perez Park.  Should he wish to challenge me to a duel as a
matter of honor, one without outside interference on the part of any whom might
be considered an ally, I would be willing to accept."
     I was half-expecting to be able to hear the nearly silent sound of someone
blinking hard in surprise, and I was hardly disappointed.  Not that I actually
heard the sound itself, mind you, but I was rewarded with the rather memorable
sight of three jaws falling open in perfect unison.  I suppose Lord Recluse's
mouth might have fallen open as well, but it was impossible to tell with his
helmet masking his face.  Ghost Widow, for her part, managed to keep her mouth
closed, but her delicate eyebrows were arched clear up to her spectral hairline
in an open display of sheer surprise.
     It's amazing what a little brass polish can accomplish at times.
     "Wha...?" Black Scorpion gasped, his mouth still hanging open.  "You gotta
be kidding me!  Scirocco can obviously flay his ass like a hunk of salmon, and
he *wants* to fight him?"
     "Under one condition," I added lightly.  "Providing, of course, that both
Master Scirocco and my lady Ghost Widow will be willing to accept."  I waited
an extra moment for the looks of wary suspicion to settle in on their faces
before continuing, "I know that I am far from being as skilled a swordsman as
Scirocco is, and so any such duel would be, quite bluntly, a slaughter.  With
the situation being what it is, namely me willing to face my own execution as
a point of honor, I should like to in turn ask for the honor of being granted
a last request."
     "He mussst be insane," Captain Mako hissed quietly to Black Scorpion.
     "And what 'request' would that be?" Scirocco inquired in a very wary tone,
not once having relaxed his grip on his weapon or otherwise taken his eyes off
me.  The look of surprise on his face had been replaced with a very guarded
expression, as if he was expecting me to toss out another flash-bomb or other
momentary distraction.
     "I should like to spend the night with Ghost Widow," I stated calmly, once
again taking them by complete surprise.  "It seems that there are a few things
to be discussed between us, and I should like to have them dealt with before we
engage in our duel of honor at sunrise."
     "What?" Ghost Widow said, clearly taken aback by my words.  She appeared
to be on the verge of saying more when she was interrupted by the heavy sounds
of one obviously amused by something.
     "Oh, man, you gotta be shittin' me!" Black Scorpion said as he roared with
laughter.  "He wants to try to sleep with Ghost Widow?  BWAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!" he
gasped as he doubled over, clutching his abdomen as he all but fell over from
the convulsions caused by his mirth.  He absently reached out, slapping Captain
Mako on the shoulder hard enough to send the mutant stumbling.  "Mako, did'ja
hear that?  This crazy.... fool.... wants.... BWAHAHAHAHAHA!"
     Sometimes it's easy to tell when things work out as planned and when the
situation goes straight to hell.  Other times, like now, it was quite difficult
to discern if the situation was going in the direction you intended.  Scirocco
seemed to be stunned beyond words, his eyebrows arched up as high as they could
go as he no doubt asked himself if I was truly sane enough to engage in a duel
of honor.
     Captain Mako seemed to be torn between wanting to piddle on the floor with
laughter and wanting to rip Black Scorpion out of his heavy armor for almost
dislocating his shoulder.  He finally settled for shaking his head in obvious
disbelief, quietly making soft hissing noises to himself that I could barely
hear over Black Scorpion's gales of laughter.
     Lord Recluse had barely budged from his throne-like chair, his arms still
folded across his chest in an imposing manner.  The glow from the depths of his
hemlet were gone, suggesting he had closed his eyes, but I doubted that he was
trying to take a nap.  The spider-arms that were splayed out behind him were
fairly motionless as well, although I was fairly positive I could see the tips
of them quivering slightly.  Whether that was simply from his breathing or if
he was sitting on his reaction with far more success than Black Scorpion was at
the moment was an unknown, but at least he didn't seem ready to kill me in the
immediate future.
     And as for the look on Ghost Widow's face....
     "My lady," I said very softly.  She immediately blinked and refocused on
me, narrowing the expanse of her milky white eyes down to a more normal shape
than the near-perfect circles they had widened into moments ago.  "I certainly
am not suggesting anything of the sort that Black Scorpion is insinuating, but
I should still like to speak with you.  In private," I added gently.
     "About what?" she demanded in a tone that was so cold as to make liquid
nitrogen seem like a mild chill in contrast.
     "The future, my lady," I replied demurely.  "The prophecies of fortunatas
are quite the complicated topic to discuss when in the presence of.... let's
just call them 'unbelievers' and leave it at that, shall we?" I said with the
slightest of gestures over my shoulder to the rest of the group.
     As with all paths taken in life, there usually comes a key moment in which
a decision must be made.  The sands of Time do not stop for anyone, mortal or
otherwise, nor do they ever reverse their flow through the hourglass to undo
what has been done.  I was standing at just such a crossroads now, one in which
my life hung in the balance and with my fate surrendered to her hands.  She
could accept my request or deny it as she saw fit, and I would be the one who
would suffer the consequences of her decision.
     I will readily admit it was far from a comfortable position for me to be
in, entrusting my life to one cleft of her own, but I saw little else in the
way of options.  I was as good as dead if I didn't trust my instincts to play
on her sense of curiosity and thus buy myself some badly-needed time, and so I
saw very little to lose from the gambit.  But when you also considered what I
stood to gain in the effort, aside from savoring an additional few minutes of
being able to breathe the slightly stale air....
     Well, they say, you can't win a game if you don't ante up at the start of
the opening game.  Of course, I dearly hope that I hadn't just pushed my entire
pile of chips onto the table before the cards were all dealt, but that little
voice in the back of my head was telling me that I just might have a playable
hand after all.... if I could bluff the other players into folding.  And you
would be surprised at what a pair of unlucky sevens can do....
     It seemed an eternity passed before she finally parted her lips to speak.
"Scirocco," she said, her voice completely empty of any trace of emotion.  A
blanket of silence promptly descended around the room so quickly that the final
syllable seem to echo in the air, hanging there like the ghost of a whisper
before fading away into a stillness so perfect that I was surprised I couldn't
hear anyone else's heartbeat.
     "My lady?" Scirocco replied, giving her an uneasy look.  Beside him, both
Captain Mako and Black Scorpion were frozen in mid-motion, their expressions
of humor likewise transmorgified into looks of complete surprise.  The only
change in Lord Recluse's demeanor was the return of the red glow of his eyes,
indicating that they were open and now intensely focused on not just me but on
Ghost Widow as well.
     "Are you in any great rush to spill this thief's blood, or can you wait
until I've interrogated him first?" Ghost Widow asked calmly.  Her face was
perfectly composed and utterly unreadable, enough so that I couldn't glean the
slightest indication of her intentions from her expression.  Her body language
suggested that she was disturbed by something, however, and I suppose that her
choice of words wasn't intended to inspire comfort either.
     It seemed to take Scirocco a moment to remember how his tongue worked.
"I.... can wait if you have a need of his services first, Lady Widow," he said
in a somewhat hesitant fashion.  He then blinked and fliched as Black Scorpion
made a harsh barking sound, almost as if it was an aborted laugh.
     "What the hell is this?" the armored brute demanded.  "He sez he wants to
spend the night with you, and now you're saying you need his 'services' all of
a sudden?"
     "Unwissse...." Captain Mako warned in a flat hiss as both he and Scirocco
suddenly began to put some distance between themselves and Black Scorpion.
     "Ha!" Black Scorpion bellowed with renewed laughter.  "Had I known that
you still got pelvic muscle kinks even after being dead, I might have offered
to help you stretch them out myself...."
     "Oh, shit," Scirocco whispered as Ghost Widow's face went from unreadable
to livid in the span of maybe a tenth of a second.
     Not too long ago I was in a less-than-reputable tavern, trying to relax
after a rather nasty mission.  The ale was cheap but still somewhat decent, and
it became obvious that I wasn't the only one who was enjoying it.  A fool who
had obviously exceeded his liver's capacity to keep up stood up to ask the room
in general if anyone knew if the Ghost Widow, already known to me by name at
that point but not so to many others, still got that 'not so fresh' feeling on
a monthly basis despite being as dead as his mother-in-law.  He then went on to
offer a distinctly crude suggestion as to how we could find out, only to have
his throat promptly sliced open by a gent who later turned out to be a spy for
Arachnos.  All that the thug said was, "Wrong answer," before pointedly leaving
the bloody knife imbedded in the center of the table as a warning.  Needless to
say, we all understood the object lesson in watching whom we insult in public.
     That quaint little anecdote bubbled up from the depths of my subconscious
mind as I dove for the floor, an automatic reflex triggered by the realization
that I was directly in the proverbal line-of-fire between Black Scorpion and
Ghost Widow.  It seems that I wasn't alone in recognizing the danger, as both
Captain Mako and Scirocco were doing exactly the same thing.  Lord Recluse was
on his feet now, but even he drew back slightly as a geyser of vibrant orange
energy surged around Ghost Widow, spiraling along the length of her arms to
emerge from her hands as a dozen snake-like tendrils that crossed the distance
between her and a now very startled Black Scorpion.
     "*ENOUGH!!*" the voice of Lord Recluse thundered, seeming to rattle the
floor itself as I laid face-down on it for the third time today.  In another
time and place I might have been in the mood to make an idle joke about how the
metal plating and I were becoming fairly good friends at this rate, but now
didn't seem like the proper time for such humor.  The sheer force of the echo
alone was enough to deafen, and I'm sure it gave everyone else a headache that
was bound to linger as well.
     I had heard very little about how the Ghost Widow's signature Soul Storm
power worked, save that it wasn't anything to be trifled with.  I actually had
a fairly decent view of things as it was employed, orange streamers of energy
that seemed to writhe with fury as they lashed out.  Much to my disappointment,
however, they never actually made contact with Black Scorpion.  They seemed to
react to her force of will, turning aside at the last possible instant once
Lord Recluse's displeasure was made known.
     "HEY!" Black Scorpion roared with fury once his mind caught up to speed
with the situation around him.  He seemed ready to lunge forward towards Ghost
Widow when Lord Recluse stepped in between them, his red eyes almost laser-like
in their intensity.
     "I.... said.... enough," he stated in a chilling tone.  He cast a glare at
Black Scorpion that actually made the armored brute quell back slightly, a look
of unease crossing his face.  Lord Recluse then turned his intense gaze toward
Ghost Widow, his spider-like appendages twitching slightly as she lowered her
arms and glanced away.  Her hands remained clenched into fists and her mouth
was set in a perfectly flat line, but it was obvious that she had no desire in
the slightest to further upset her lordship.
     I suppose I could have made productive use of the distraction by diving
into the shadows, but that little voice of reason in the back of my mind had
wasted no time in pointing out that the darkness hadn't been any protection
earlier.  Indeed, now that I had that prophecy hanging over my head like a
sword, I knew it would have been nothing but an exercise in futility.  That,
and such a move was liable to piss somebody off even more given the current
mood of my present company.  Not exactly a healthy idea given my strong desire
to retain my grasp on the warmth of life at this point in time.
     "Mako," Lord Recluse said calmly.  He waited for the shark-man to quickly
rise to his feet before continuing, "Make sure that the guards are aware of my
displeasure at their failure to detect our.... guest.  But do not permanently
harm anyone this time," he added in a clear tone of warning.  "I would give
them a chance to learn from this incident.  Scorpion, go assemble a team and
start a sweep of the outside perimeter.  I doubt any others have breached our
security like this one has, but I am not in a mood to take chances now.  Feel
free to deal with any new intruders as you see fit, but I want our perimeter to
be absolutely secure.  I strongly suggest that neither of you fail me tonight.
Now go, both of you."
     Neither Captain Mako nor Black Scorpion seemed to be pleased with their
new marching orders, although I suspect Mako was more disappointed about the
fact that he likely wasn't going to be around to enjoy a little entertainment
when Scirocco and I crossed swords.  Black Scorpion was obviously still pissed
as hell at Ghost Widow, but he seemed to be very careful about letting it show
in the face of Lord Recluse's orders.  He seemed to all but ignore me as he
turned around and stomped out of the room, the weight of his armor making the
metal floor creak slightly with each step in stark contrast to Captain Mako's
perfectly silent exit.  Not that I minded being overlooked by the oversized
tin-can, but part of me couldn't help feeling sorry for any drunk fool he found
wandering around outside tonight.  That, and it made me wonder just how many
crushed squirrels and stomped-flat rabbits I would have to encounter on my way
out as he took his frustrations out on the local wildlife.  Assuming I managed
to find a way to escape from the spider's proverbial web....
     "Widow," Lord Recluse said in a somewhat calm but still obviously ticked
voice, "If you truly wish to speak with the thief then do so, but he is to be
disposed of as soon as you are done with him.  Scirocco, you may have your so-
called 'duel of honor' with him if time permits, but we are on a schedule and
I will not be delayed for a trivial matter."
     "Understood," Scirocco said in a flat tone, casting a truly heinous glare
at me.  I gave him a casual shrug in response, which only seemed to further
fuel the fires of vengeance that burned in his dark eyes.  It seemed to take a
great effort for him to return his scimitar to his belt and take a step back,
casting a brief glance at Ghost Widow and giving her the faintest of bows as
she looked at him.
     "Understood, my lord," Ghost Widow replied, giving Lord Recluse a bow of
her head similar to the one Scirocco had just given her.  She cast a sidelong
glance at Scirocco and added, "I will send Wretch to find you when I'm done,
that way we both get want we want out of our so-called Ghost Thief."
     The faintest of smiles seemed to brush Scirocco's face as he bowed his
head a second time.  "Thank you, my lady."  For a split-second it seemed like
he wanted to say more, but that impulse appeared to pass as he cast a brief
glance at me.  He then took a half-step back and turned away, moving to join
Lord Recluse as the dark legend made his way back to the conference table.
     Sometimes I amaze even myself.  Not two minutes ago the odds were five on
one with me in everybody's cross-hairs, but now it was just me and the lovely
Ghost Widow.  Not that the odds were any better, in all honesty, as she seemed
to have powers and abilities that a non-magical, non-mutant, unenhanced and
otherwise ordinary human like I could possibly dream of.  Had the odds been
perfectly even I still would not have desired to try to lash out or attempt an
escape at the moment.  It was finally time for me to confront this prophecy I
had stumbled into, and for good or ill it would be dealt with tonight.
     Of course I preferred a good outcome for all of this, but as most people
wind up learning the hard way at some point in their lives, things seldom if
ever turn out just exactly the way you want them to.  However, I had long ago
learned to keep my desires as simple as possible and my standards low so as not
to be constantly disappointed with the results.  Some days, getting out of a
very hairy situation alive is more than a fair bargain.
     I turned to face Ghost Widow, moving slowly enough not to startle her or
otherwise give her the impression that I was up to anything.  I was, of course,
but the exact details of what I was going to do and how weren't exactly clear
to me.  Nevertheless, it was time to move forward.  "Shall we go, my lady?" I
inquired lightly with a casual gesture towards a nearby doorway.
     I had hoped that a little gentlemanly charm would soothe any rough edges
and perhaps make my life a little easier in the process.  It seems, however,
that my spectral captor was not in a lady-like mood this evening as I suddenly
found the front of my shirt being yanked up to my throat as it was grasped in
a distinctly icy grip.
     "Spare me your feeble charm, thief," she spat as she started to literally
drag me across the room towards a different doorway.  It took me a moment to
regain my footing and stumble along with her, finding it unusually hard to
recover my balance.  I finally managed to do so just before reaching the door,
only to be deliberately jerked off-balance and into a face-first collision with
the heavy metal frame.  I suppose it was her way of keeping me under control,
though I can't say that I truly blamed her given my reputation for fairly
spectacular escapes from previous situations such as this.
     The door hissed open as I staggered back and regained my footing.  I think
I had maybe found my balance for a full second before another hand gripped the
front of my shirt, only this time I was lifted completely off the ground to
twist in the all-too-still air.  Perhaps Ghost Widow's strength in a material
form wasn't enough for the task, a mental note worth remembering, but it was
painfully clear my new acquaintenance's muscles were more than adequate.
     "Mistress?" a deep, almost gravelly voice inquired calmly as I was jerked
higher into the air, bringing me face-to-face with a minor nightmare.  I'm not
sure what had happened to him to twist his features into such a grotesque mien
like that, but it was clear that something in life had beat the living hell out
of him with the ugly stick.  And, I daresay, broke it in the process.
     "Don't hurt him just yet, Wretch," Ghost Widow said calmly as she brushed
past the both of us.  "I need him alive to answer a few questions.  Bring him,"
she commanded as she strode down the corridor.
     So this was the Wretch, I thought as I was almost casually carried along
like a pinata.  I could see how he got his name, being a massive mountain of
muscle and little else.  My previous research into Ghost Widow's nature didn't
reveal much about him, but it seems that he experienced the same bad day that
she had during that botched Night Widow job so long ago.  How he managed to
survive an incident like that when a far-more capable assassin like Belladonna
Vetrano got her ticket punched is beyond me, but it was fairly obvious to me
that his life was still anchored to his flesh.  Or what was left of it....
     As we progressed along the semi-darkness of the corridor, I tried to keep
my thoughts as focused as possible on how I was going to get myself out of this
disturbingly tight spot I was in.  I didn't mean the tight grip on my shirt
that was seriously impacting my ability to breathe freely, a situation I dearly
hoped to be able to rectify before I started to asphyxiate, but rather from the
web of Arachnos that I was now entangled in.  My earlier activities had put
myself on the lovely Ghost Widow's radar for one reason or another, to say
nothing of getting Scirocco and Mako's attention, but now I had been formally
noticed by Lord Recluse himself and was unlikely to be forgotten anytime in the
near future.  And if there's one thing a thief like me hates above all else,
it's to be noticed by someone big and powerful who doesn't like what you do.
     "Here," Ghost Widow said briskly as she opened a door and stepped to the
side.  Wretch took one look inside the room and hesitated before giving his
mistress a visible look of unease, still holding me in the air like I weighed
next to nothing.  A simple crooking of a delicate spectral eyebrow was the only
response the brute got, causing him to absently shrug his free shoulder before
turning back to the doorway and pitching me through it like a softball.
     Here we go again, I managed to think as I sailed head-first into the room.
Much to my surprise, instead of encountering yet another grated metal floor or
worse, I found myself impacting the edge of a small bed which greatly cushioned
my face's landing.  Unfortunately for me, the angle of my impact was such that
the corner of the bed slammed squarely into my solar plexus with the usual
predictable effects.  As a result, I slowly slid backwards to land hard on my
ass, barely able to breathe as the shock ran rampant through my body and sent
a cascade of electrical sparks through my vision.
     "Wretch," the wraith admonished him in a tone that suggested she wasn't
really all that displeased with him.
     "Sorry, mistress," Wretch replied in an openly unapologetic tone.
     I felt it was best to simply stay put for the moment, or at least until I
could see straight without the world looking like somebody was celebrating the
Fourth of July a little too heartily.  The air felt like it was thinking about
coming back to visit my lungs again, making a disturbingly harsh rasping sound
as I tried to inhale.  If there were any doubts that this was going to be one
of *those* nights, they were effectively dispelled now.  Hopefully I wouldn't
need anything stronger than a pair of oxycodone tablets lifted from a grocery's
pharmacy to survive the aches and pains that the morning would bring.  Assuming
I even made it that far....
     "Stay here," Ghost Widow ordered as she strode into the room.  "Nobody in
or out until I'm done interrogating him.  And if Scirocco stops by, tell him to
hold his Arabian horses until I'm done," she added darkly as she reached out to
trigger the electronic door lock.
     "As you wish," Wretch said calmly as the door closed almost literally in
his face.  The locks engaged a moment later, creating a very ominous clicking
sound that seemed to echo in the room with the sound of finality.
     The world started to make more and more sense with each passing moment, a
result of a greater flow of unrestricted oxygen to my brain.  I'm not sure why
I hadn't noticed the dulling of my senses earlier, but I could definitely feel
the mental fog lifting from my mind.  "May I ask an honest question, my lady?"
I ventured as I started to rise to my feet.  The attempt was quickly aborted by
the heel of her boot impacting my back, sending me twisting to the side to land
face-down on the ground.  Were I not in dire straights and no small amount of
pain, I would have laughed at the sheer irony of the encounter with the floor
yet again.
     "I will be asking the questions here, thief," she warned me in a glacial
tone.  She seemed to glance at my back for a moment before refocusing on the
back of my head.  "What is that behind you?"
     "Probably.... my kodachi," I gasped as I very gingerly rose to my hands
and knees.  I figured that's the only thing she could be talking about, as the
only concealed objects behind my back were the short Japanese sword and a pair
of very adaptable cutting tools.  "It comes in quite handy in my line of work,
especially because of how easily it's overlooked by casual searches."
     "Remove it," she ordered, making a gesture to a small table off to the
side.  "And if you make the slightest move to do anything else, I assure you
that you'll only live long enough to truly regret it."
     I subconsciously puffed my cheeks out as I very carefully rose to my feet.
Already I could feel a deep ache starting up in my neck, suggesting that it was
going to be one of those long-lingering pains.  After a brief check to make
sure that my balance was stable and that my neck wasn't misaligned, I slowly
crossed the room to the lone table set against the wall.  The room was quite
spartan in design, consisting of the table, the bed with cheap hotel-quality
sheets, and a small bathroom tucked away in the far corner.  The air had that
heavy smell to it that suggested that this wasn't a room frequently used by
guests of any sort.
     Still moving slowly and all too aware of her penetrating stare, I very
carefully unbuttoned my shirt and drew it off to expose the layer of webbing
worn beneath it like a vest.  While I didn't dare look directly at her as I
laid the dark fabric aside, my peripheral vision was sharp enough to note the
way her eyebrows promptly arched up in surprise.  "Not what you were expecting,
I take it?" I said without thinking as I reached for the clasps that secured
the short sword to the small of my back.
     "Silence," she instructed in a flat tone, never once taking her eyes off
of me.  I suppose it was a good thing that I had her attention, although under
the circumstances it would be quite difficult to do something constructive or
otherwise improve my current situation.
     The next five minutes or so passed in the silence that she was kind enough
to 'ask' of me with her watching my every move and me methodically removing my
assortment of tools and devices from the webbing.  The kodachi was first, as
she rightly figured it was the biggest threat I could pose to her immediate
health and well-being.  I honestly forgot who I stole it from so long ago, but
the weapon was one of the few items in my possession that I truly valued for
its utility rather than its material value.
     The flash-bombs came next, absently stacking them in a neat row as I laid
them down.  I paused for a moment as I came up two short, realizing that the
first had been used during my failed stealth attempt and that the second one
was tucked away in a hidden pocket at the wrist of my discarded shirt.  I cast
a quick glance at Ghost Widow before reaching for it, making sure to move slow
enough for her to follow along as I extracted the last tungsten device.
     The rest of my 'work' tools were laid out one by one, mostly a collection
of high-quality lockpicks and cutting devices.  Most were simple pliers and
industrial-strength clippers, but sometimes I ran into a situation that needed
more precision-force than precision-finesse, which is what the portable arc-
welder and oxyacetlyene torches were for.  And if the job required more than
the five minute's of fuel each held, then odds are it just wasn't worth the
hassle.
     Next came my pride and joy, my photo-strobe.  Basically a powerful camera
flasher in a small package, the brief but intense burst of light it could emit
was enough to play havoc with the synapses of those unfortunate enough to see
it at close range.  The resulting daze, momentary as it was, usually proved to
be more than enough to either let me set them up a longer-lasting brain jam in
the form of a knockout blow, or to let me escape to the relative safety of the
shadows.  Perhaps even a ghosted-out Ghost Widow would have been susceptible to
being dazzled by it, but with my situation being what it was I doubted using it
would have gained me anything other than her unholy rage once the flash wore
off and the brief paralysis had passed.
     Last but not least were my key-cards, an assortment of electronic devices
that were quite useful for picking various electronics locks and messing with
warning sensors.  The use of two of them had gotten me past the door locks in
the lighthouse upstairs, although the second was still jammed in a sensor node
on the wall to delude it into thinking everything was still peachy-keen in its
electronic world.  Hopefully I'd be able to get it back on the way out, but as
it was somewhat inexpensive and easily recreated I'm not about to run any real
risks to try to recover it.
     I started to step away from the table with my hands raised, trying to show
my lovely captor that I was now fully disarmed.  I paused after a moment and
began to move my hands again, first stripping off the web-harness that I wore
to carry my gear, and then removing the leather belt looped through my pants.
     "What are you doing?" Ghost Widow suddenly spoke up in a suspicious tone
as I began to unthread the leather belt from the sturdy loops.
     "There's about fifty feet of steel cable lining my belt," I explained as
I finished removing it and held it up for her to examine.  "I sometimes have a
need to play the Itsy-Bitsy Spider from the ceiling, and this has proven to be
the easiest way to carry it with me.  The buckle can be anchored like this," I
added with a careful demonstration of the way it could be twisted into a piton-
like shape, "And down the line I go."
     "Clever," she allowed in a perfectly neutral tone as I set the belt aside
and moved back towards the bed.  I was now wearing just my boots, pants, and
a very thin undershirt that was really only useful for absorbing sweat and
keeping the webbing from chafing too hard.  While I had been dong a fair amount
of sweating recently, deodorant aside, the ambient air temperature in the
underground base was not exactly set to comfortably warm levels.  Already I was
starting to miss the heat-retaining shirt given the faint coolness in the air,
a sensation that I had the disturbing suspicion would only grow colder.
     "Well, my lady," I said in a carefully crafted tone as I gingerly sat down
on the edge of the bed, holding my hands up to show they were empty.  "I am now
completely unarmed and at your mercy.  I believe you had a few questions that
you'd like to ask of me?"
     "Spare me your theatrics, thief," she demanded in a low tone.  Her gaze
continued to bore through me for a number of moments before briefly flicking
over to examine the contents of the table, one delicate white eyebrow arching
up as she studied the wide assortment of utility tools that most wouldn't be
able to find at the local hardware store.
     "Again," I spoke up before I could get a firm control on my tongue, "I
take it that I am not quite what you expected?"
     "Any fool can walk around with toys on his belt and call himself a thief,"
she countered darkly, casting a chilling glare at me.  "And like a fool, your
arrogance and over-confidence have proven be your soon-to-be-fatal undoing."
     "And how many of those fools can sneak past five floors of security before
being caught by a simple stroke of luck?" I countered lightly.  "Or who can
pull off an escape right out from underneath the noses of your fellow Arachnos
associates?  Including Lord Recluse himself?  And if I may say so, lady Widow,
had it not been for your coming through the wall itself, I daresay it would
have been a successful escape attempt at that."
     "Fools are fools, thief," she replied with a faint sneer, "Some are just
better at it than others.  Now if you are finished playing the greater fool,
you will tell me about this prophecy you mentioned."
     Perhaps I would be able to find other opportunities to stall things and
prolong my imminent demise, but right now did not seem like it was healthy to
try to make this one of them.  Not just because I was well and truly disarmed
at the moment, but simply because her level of patience with me was fairly thin
at this point.
     "Perhaps introductions are in order first, my lady?" I suggested in a
measured tone.  "Or are you not that concerned with the identify of one who,
it seems, has been of casual interest to you in the recent past?  I know who
you are of course, Lady Vetrano, but do...?"
     I honestly didn't see her move across the room, simply appearing to cross
the gap between us in the blink of an eye.  One second she was standing not too
far from the door, and the next she was looming over me with my throat very
tightly held in her icy grasp.  As before, she didn't seem to have sufficient
strength to act against my weight, but it was all too clear that her grip was 
powerful enough to choke the very life out of me if she desired.
     And unfortunately, it felt like that was precisely what she wanted.
     "I don't know where you heard that name, fool," she whispered, her hand
still firmly compressing my trachea, "But repeat it again and it will be the
very last word you utter in this mortal existence.  That may have once been the
name given to my flesh, but neither one exists now.  Do you understand, thief?"
she hissed in a tone that I fully expected to be capable of coating the walls
with a glaze of ice.
     "As...." I tried to rasp, barely able to force enough air past the crimp
in my throat, "You.... wish...."
     As before when I was being 'held' by Wretch, my senses suddenly refocused
back into crystal-clear sharpness once I was let go of I was able to breathe
properly.  And as before, a rather uncouth sucking sound promptly filled the
air as I did nothing but inhale to ease the fierce burning of my lungs.

     


To be continued.....
(Last Edit: 15 December 07)
(Edit Points: 778 - 1010)