Chapter 11: True Confessions

“Alright, you’re wired,” Sara said as she plugged in the last cord to the small device she easily slipped into the inside pocket of Ian’s jacket.

“Recording,” Van added as he looked at the computer screen in front of him. They were back at the Candy Store again, getting Ian’s plan rolling. He had suggested the wiring, which Sara hadn’t expected. Ian was definitely a step ahead of her, and she was thankful for that. Running on empty, Sara was unable to think clearly. At least she had someone to do it for her now. She stood up and walked over to Van as he continued to stare at the screen. He handed her a small device which looked like a hearing aid.

“What’s this for?” Sara questioned as she rolled the little thing around in the palm of her hand.

“He’ll be able to hear us if we tell him he needs to pull out,” Van answered as he slipped on a headset and handed another one to Sara. She walked back to Ian and gave him the earpiece.

“If we tell you to pull out, you’d better. None of that chivalry crap, got it?” Sara ordered.

“Yes, my Lady,” he softly replied.

“Well, good luck,” she said. Ian took her hand and gently placed a kiss on top. Sara could feel her cheeks begin to flush, but managed to hide it from him as she held back her smile. He left quickly and headed for the hotel where Gallo was staying.

“You tracking everything?” Sara asked as she slipped beside Van and looked at the computer screen.

“Yeah,” he answered, then looked at her intently. "You really need to tell me about what happened last night," Van said her with an intense look in his eyes. "If you don't tell me, it’s gonna drive me crazy! And what the hell was that thing on your arm?!" he interrogated.

"Maybe I'll tell you, maybe I won't," Sara teased.

"Okay, seriously, what is it?" Van almost pleaded with her.   

"It’s the Witchblade," she answered plainly. Sara went back to looking at her screen leaving him with that answer. 

"What the hell is a Witchblade?!" Van yelled. 

"That’s all I can tell you for now, it is a very long story," Sara answered him.

Van made himself comfortable in the chair in front of Billie's computer. "We've got time," he said. "Start talking." 

"If Deaq should happen to grace us with his presence then I'll have to explain that to him!" she argued. "God knows how much trouble you’re already in for knowing the name of the damn thing! I don’t want more harm to come to you than has too," she said honestly. "The last thing I want to do is endanger your life by letting you find out about this too!" she almost sobbed to him. 

"What do you mean endanger my life?" Van asked her quizzically. 

"The more people that know about the Witchblade the more lives are in danger." she told him, holding back tears.

"So again, I ask, what the hell is a Witchblade?" Van said growing flustered. "How do you use it? What exactly does it do?" Van shot one question after the other. 

"Okay, pal, slow down! One question at a time please!" she told him with a slight smile on her face. She had to give into that sweet face. It was irresistible.

"Let's start with something simple. What is a Witchblade?" Van asked.

"I don’t even know the answer to that question myself!" Sara shot back. "From what I understand, it was an object of power, something that women like Joan of Arc and Cleopatra have worn throughout the ages. It is what made them the women we know today," she replied slowly so as to slightly antagonize him.

"How does it work?" Van asked equally as slowly. 

"It’s not the how, but the why." Sara answered. "I’ve only used it in situations like last night, when things got too dangerous. The only people that have ever seen it were those meant to die at its mercy," she finished and waited for his reply.

"So, you're telling me I’m supposed to be dead right now!?" Van asked in exasperation.

"Not exactly. The only other person that has seen it work and lived to tell about it is Nottingham .  But that’s only because he’s my protector," Sara said in almost one breath. "He’s supposed to be there when I need him, which wasn’t the case last night. I assume that’s because he was following Gallo." She finished and took a well needed break.

"I bet he’s following you around because he has a thing for you!" Van said, giggling. "Either that or he’s afraid something is going to happen to you," he finished, this time drawing a legitimate conclusion.

"Oh, shut up!" Sara said as she got up and hit him in the shoulder playfully.

She stood up, yawned, and stretched, then began pacing back and forth to keep herself awake.  "I need some sleep," Sara told no one in particular.

"Why don't you go take a nap upstairs in the lounge?" Van suggested.

"Thanks but no thanks," Sara replied. "I want to be awake if something good happens. Besides, I’m in the habit of not trusting my partners to much, although I have to trust you now that you know my little secret," she said in another breath.

"You really will have to finish telling me about the Witchblade, ya know?" Van said.  

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't," Sara teased in a suggestive tone. "So, Van," she said moving her chair over next to him as she sat down and slapped his thigh, "I told you my deepest, darkest, dirtiest little secret. What's yours?" she asked, quietly, her lips only inches from his.

“Alright…” Van started to say before something caught his eyes and ears. Ian had entered the hotel and was now beginning to speak with someone. He turned up the volume on the computer so Sara could hear what was going on.

“Ah, Ian Nottingham, what a nice surprise. How’s Kenny?” Gallo was saying, the sound of a razor in the background blurring his voice a bit.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ian responded. “I don’t work for him anymore.”

“Really?” Gallo replied. “That’s a shame. You’re an asset, Nottingham . With your skill level, you could easily go into your own business. People would pay good money for an assassin like you.”

Van turned to Sara and mouthed, “Assassin?” She nodded, but waved her hand to tell him that she’d explain later. This conversation was getting far too interesting to be interrupted.

“That’s why I came to talk to you,” Ian said. “I heard about the unfortunate events of the previous night.”

“How do you know about last night?” Gallo asked, the razor ceasing its chattering.

“News in this business travels fast,” Ian simply replied.

“Much too fast,” Gallo agreed. He paused for a moment before he added, “You know, I could use your help in getting rid of a pesky little detective that’s been a thorn in my side for a while now. Do you know Detective Sara Pezzini?”

“Yes.”

“Well, last night she and her little buddies from the LAPD tried to bust me with hundreds of pounds of drugs that I was trying to move. Good thing I could smell them a mile away. I almost had the bitch if it wasn’t for the fact that she looked so different. The girl dyed her hair blonde. I could barely tell it was her until she pulled a gun on me,” Gallo went on explaining. “If you could pull this job for me and not get caught, you’ll be rewarded handsomely.”

“How much?”

“Two million, half of which you get right now.”

Sara knew that Ian was processing the information. Every fiber in her body was screaming at him to say yes. Conspiracy to murder was a far better change than selling drugs. It was a charge that would surely put him away for a very long time, if not life. Now, if should could only get him to confess to those New York murders, she’d really be set.

“So, Nottingham , do we have ourselves a deal?” Gallo asked.

“Yes,” Ian replied. Sara knew they were shaking hands, and after a few moments of someone rustling around in the room, she could hear a briefcase being opened.

“I think you’ll find this to your satisfaction,” Gallo said. “One million in large bills. I got it off Pezzini and her friends last night. The stupid little fools. You never pay before seeing the goods.”

‘Ha ha, Gallo, joke’s on you,’ Sara thought as a large grin appeared on her face.

“I want this job done as soon as possible. The faster she’s out of my hair, the better. Oh, and if you get her little friends, too, I’ll throw in a million a head,” Gallo added. Sara could almost see Ian nod his head and leave the room, promptly ending the meeting.

“Good job, Nottingham ,” Sara commented as she spoke to him for the first time since he left the Candy Store. “Come on back so we can de-bug you.” She put her headset off and almost began to do a happy little dance when she noticed the hard expression on Van’s face.

“He’s a hired hit man?” he almost yelled.

Sara cringed. "I know I should have told you and I’m sorry!" she hissed. 

"Who's a hired hit man?" Deaq asked as he came up from behind them. They both turned and looked in his direction.

"Ian!" Van barked. 

Sara merely looked down at her shoes. She knew she should have told them when she had the chance, but it was too late now. Nothing was going to save whatever friendship they had after this.

"And he knows where the Candy Store is at?"  Deaq questioned as everything registered in his head.

"Yeah," Sara and Van answered simultaneously. 

"But he's not like that anymore, he's changed!" Sara told them both with tears welling up in her eyes. 

"Yeah, well a lot of good that's gonna do us when he kills us all!" Van said as he stood from his chair and walked out of the office.  No one said a word until the door slammed shut.

Sara looked at Deaq, her eyes pleading with him to say something. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it before he walked out slowly.

Out in the alley, Ian sat in his car patiently, listening to the argument taking place inside the warehouse. The voices were loud enough to hear even if the head sets had been taken off. Sara was actually defending him; something he never thought was possible. Maybe she was actually seeing him as a person now instead of something that Kenneth Irons had molded into his own personal slave. Ian wanted to walk in and bash Van’s head in for being such a stupid, self centered ass hole, but he knew Sara wouldn’t like it, so he held back and just listened.

Back inside, Sara stood slowly and ran her hand through her golden brown hair trying to figure out what to do next. She turned towards the door and got on her bike. Home was the first place on her list, and if she was up to it, the gym afterwards. It was one of the few ways she dealt with her problems, besides running away from them.

Chapter 12: On the Telephone Line

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