Figlio Perduto

Chapter 2: The Eye of the Storm

by Myshawolf (myshawolf at yahoo.com)
(11/12/03)

General Disclaimer

Myshawolf: (walks out with her arms full of books and papers to grade) Sorry; things are piling up over here. I have interim reports to turn in this week. Here is the next chapter. Nightmare will have some announcements at the end. Enjoy and on with the show!


Chapter 2- The Eye of the Storm.

Erika walked next to Fenwick. She didn't like the decision that he had made for her. Fenwick quickly treaded through the underworld's tunnels. Soon they would reach the Opera's stage and he would be on his way to New London. Her eyes stared ahead in an empty sort of way. Fenwick knew what her heart was going through. His felt the same way. He gripped her hand in comfort before he could stop himself. When he realized what he was doing, he dropped it away.

"I know you want to come with me, mademoiselle, but I promised my master that I would ensure your safety," Fenwick reminded her.

Erika flashed him a sad smile, "I know. I just hate feeling helpless. Please, Monsieur Fenwick, if I'm needed in any way at all, call me."

Fenwick reluctantly said, "Until we know what we are dealing with, you should stay here."

Erika didn't say a word. Instead she opened the door that led to the stage area. Nadir was patiently waiting. Danesh wasn't too far away, as well. Nadir bowed to Fenwick. Fenwick looked at Erika questioningly. Erika sighed.

"Monsieur Fenwick, this is my best friend, Nadir Khan. He will escort you to the shuttle station," Erika explained.

Nadir smiled. "I am to make sure that you get on your shuttle without any interference."

Fenwick smiled sarcastically at the young Arabian. "I'm sure you can handle anything."

Nadir smirked slyly. "I hold several black belts in various martial arts and am a crack shot with both ioniser and gun. I believe I can sufficiently delay Professor Moriarty if he does show up."

Fenwick was about to say more when Erika interrupted him. "Good luck, Monsieur Fenwick. Please don't hesitate to call me when I can be of assistance."

Fenwick bowed to Erika. "I will, Mademoiselle Phantom."

Fenwick walked after Nadir who led him from the stage area. Danesh moved to Erika's side and draped an arm over her shoulder. Erika felt the pain begin to well up again. Danesh hugged her close. Erika felt comforted, before her strong will stepped in. She moved away. Her eyes hardened, taking on the light when she became the Phantom. She turned to Danesh, who stood up straighter.

"I won't stand aside and do nothing," Erika vowed. "Spread the word through the Underground. The Phantom will pay top dollar to the informant who can give me the name of the man who met with Moriarty and prove proof of the meeting."

Danesh nodded. "Right away, little sister. Do you want the company involved?"

Erika smiled wickedly. "Only those who want to. The others better keep an eye out for anything strange. Also there will be more traps set until this ordeal is over. My lair will be closed off for a while."

Danesh grinned before leaving. "Yes, mademoiselle."

Erika stood on the empty stage. She glared out at the empty theater. Quietly she moved to the stairs to the roof. She quickly went up until she walked on to the roof of the Opera House. The sky was ablaze with colors from the rising sun. Erika glared out over Paris. In her heart she knew Moriarty and whoever was controlling him was out there. Erika drew in a deep breath.

Loudly and in the Phantom's voice, she made a declaration of war. "So it is to be war between us. Take something of mine and a disaster beyond your imagination will occur."

She turned from the edge of the roof and walked gracefully back to the door of the Opera House. Her declaration of war resounded through the city of Paris. The gargoyles of Notre Dame silently pitied the man or woman who dared cross the Phantom.

Holmes had finished his breakfast when he heard the knocking on his door. Watson patiently cleared the plates away as Holmes walked over to answer the door. On the other side of the door, stood an impatient Fenwick. Holmes smiled at the scowling henchman and stepped aside to let him in. Fenwick stomped in and stood in the middle of the room. Holmes shut the door and looked his guest over.

"It seems you had a rough night," Holmes commented.

"That is an understatement," Fenwick muttered and then said much louder, "To tell you the truth, Monsieur Holmes, I didn't want to come here."

"Then why did you?"

"She had already called you when I tried to stop her. Mademoiselle Noir has a lot of trust in you. She thinks you can help," Fenwick admitted wearily.

Holmes nodded as he motioned for Fenwick to sit in a red armchair. Fenwick did so reluctantly. He didn't trust easily, but Moriarty's life was on the line. In that instance, he would deal with the devil. Fenwick slumped in his chair and began to tell Holmes everything that had happened.

Moriarty stumbled backstage. He wasn't sure where he was, only that the buzzing in his head had stopped. He sat on the ground and tried to collect his thoughts. Everything was a blank to him.

He closed his eyes, wishing for some clue to what was going on. The buzzing was very low but it began to grow louder. Moriarty gripped his head to stop the noise. Suddenly, a beautiful sound flowed into his ears, soothing away the pain. He looked over to the main stage. Standing in the middle stood a gorgeous lady. Her curly brown hair was tied up with a sapphire-colored ribbon. Her eyes were scanning a piece of sheet music as she softly sang the song.

Moriarty watched her with great admiration and a strange familiarity. He knew her of that he was certain. She paused in singing as she concentrated on a tough part. Moriarty growled as the buzzing returned with a vengeance. He could feel his consciousness slip away as he lost control. His grey eyes clouded over as his captor approached him.

"Now, now, Professor Moriarty, I can't have you slipping away from me again. We have work to do." His captor smiled wickedly.

Moriarty felt his soul lift up as a voice sang loudly of her lost love. His mind struggled against whatever was holding him back. His captor noticed this and turned up the power on the remote. The man frowned at what almost broke the control he had over his puppet.

Turning to the stage, he sucked his breath in at the beauty on stage. The man began to calculate what he must do to get the girl. After a moment, the man turned away. He had some other business to deal with first.

"Come, Professor, we have a couple of detectives to take care of." The man laughed as he moved away.

Moriarty stared at the woman as she gracefully moved around the stage. He turned away, killing the urge to hold her close to him. He followed his master quietly.

Erika looked up from her script. For a moment, she'd thought she felt James's presence. She looked away from the backstage area. She was worried, that was all. Erika continued to read the musical score.

Lestrade arrived at Baker Street in record time. Holmes had just called her wristcom with urgent news. Lestrade quickly bounded up the seventeen steps and knocked on the door. Watson smiled at the Inspector when he answered.

"Good morning, Inspector Lestrade. Holmes has been expecting you." Watson moved to the side to let the Inspector in.

"Thank you, Watson." Lestrade grinned as she walked in. Her step was a little more graceful from her turn at being undercover as a beauty pageant contestant.

Holmes looked up from his quiet meditation as Lestrade sank into the armchair next to him. He admired her for a moment. Fenwick had left a few minutes beforehand to secure his and Moriarty's dwelling. Holmes had a feeling whoever was controlling Moriarty might want his secrets as well. Fenwick concurred and went to set as many traps as possible. As soon as Lestrade settled herself, Holmes decided to fill her in.

"It seems we have a huge problem," Holmes stated softly. "Someone is controlling Moriarty."

"Any ideas as to whom?" Lestrade asked with concern. Moriarty was a dangerous criminal when he was in control. He could be much worse if he wasn't.

Holmes closed his eyes. "I have my suspicions as to a few possible suspects."

"Not enough information yet?" Lestrade guessed.

"That is correct. Besides we may not even need to worry. Fenwick seems to think Moriarty is fighting the mind control."

"What makes him say that? Moriarty told him so?"

"No, nothing so obvious. He ordered Fenwick to protect Mademoiselle Noir from him."

"Erika's here?!"

"No, Fenwick made her stay behind in Paris. The last place Moriarty would look for her. Whoever is controlling Moriarty may have ordered him to harm anyone who would know immediately."

"Like Erika and Fenwick. I hope Erika is safe."

"Mademoiselle Noir has proven several times that she can protect herself. Besides, she is hardly alone."

"True. So what do we do now?"

"It's only a matter of time until Moriarty returns to England. For now we must be alert to anything strange. I have already alerted the Irregulars and asked them immediately report anything out of the ordinary."

"Again we are at a dead end."

"So it would seem," Holmes conceded. He cleared his throat before proposing, "Since our archenemy is running around seemingly out of his head, I think we should stick together for a while."

"What are you suggesting, Sherlock?" Lestrade asked intrigued.

"I think that you should stay here until we capture the fiend behind this whole plan."

Lestrade didn't say anything for a moment. She knew Holmes was serious about this. After all, out of the two of them, Moriarty seemed to hate her the most. She lived alone while Holmes had Watson to keep him company. Lestrade could see his point; she was an easy target.

"I agree, Holmes. It would be safer that way."

"Good. Deidre will be over to help you pack a few things you may need."

"What?! That snoop. You know she'll have it in her head that we are going to be married."

"Don't let it bother you, Lestrade. I'll have Watson ready the spare bedroom for your return."

Lestrade sighed as she stood up to leave. "I can't wait until this whole thing is over with. But something tells me this is only the beginning of our troubles."

Moriarty walked listlessly through the streets of New London. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he followed his master. Master was odd; he keep muttering about nosy detectives who ruin everything. Moriarty thought that these ramblings were familiar, like something he talked about once. He closed his eyes; something wasn't right. He knew it.

His body stopped. Opening his eyes, Moriarty gazed as his master led him into an old warehouse. Moriarty hardly registered where it was. He had no need to, since his master was always by his side. His master motioned to a room off to the side. Moriarty deduced that this was to be his room. He moved towards it.

"And remember, Professor, you are not to leave this place without my permission," his master called to him.

Moriarty grunted and walked into the room. There was a cot in the corner. He laid his great frame down and prepared to sleep. In his mind, a sweet voice sang to him. Moriarty smiled as the voice sang him to sleep.

Erika leaned on the edge of the balcony outside her room at Nadir's apartment. She was staying here until she was needed in New London. Erika stared at the stars. Her mind traveled back to a year earlier, when Moriarty joined her on the roof for the first time. He was so gentle with her that Erika's heart flipped at the thought of that first kiss. They spent many nights up on the Roof of the Opera House staring at the stars, sharing kisses.

A smile touched her lips as she thought of those moments. At times they kept her going, knowing he would be there to catch her if she fell. They had worked together enough to show that. Erika smiled as she thought about the Miss New London pageant. Afterward, Moriarty swore to high heaven that he wouldn't ever do something the honest way again. Erika could understand his feelings and just let him rant away. He did the same for her when she was angry during a production. He would just sit there smiling while she would rant in English, French, and Italian. When he'd had enough, he would kiss her into silence. Erika grinned widely; she always enjoyed that part.

A soft beeping noise caught her attention. She turned away from the balcony and walked back into the living room. Nadir had already answered it. Erika silently walked into the room. She hugged herself as Nadir continued to converse with the informant on the other end.

"Thank you for the information, Robespierre. I will make sure the phantom gets it. Bon soir, my friend." Nadir stated quickly as he glanced at Erika. After he hung up the phone, Nadir turned to the young woman who was waiting, "I have a description."

"Well?" Erika demanded.

"Robespierre says that Moriarty met with a young man about thirty years in age, with black hair that forms a beard and moustache. He had a British accent and seemed to be quite nice at first, but he is quite cunning. Robespierre thinks he was someone in the medical profession since he used the correct terminology when referring to the body," Nadir relayed.

"Good. Pass the information along to the detectives." Erika nodded. "I'll have Leroux check it against the known criminal populace. Then we have the name of my next victim."

"I would hate to be him when you sink your claws into him," Nadir smirked.

"He will wish he never thought of crawling out from under his rock," Erika snorted before sweeping away. Nadir watched her go. Erika was vicious when she felt helpless. Nadir sighed; she was in love as well, which already put her emotions in a spin. Nadir punched in the number for 221b Baker Street.

Nightmare: (looking up) Amazing what happens when she talks with other writers. Don't forget to review. Anyone interested in joining a mailing list of when this story is updated, please leave us your email. Also, Mysha is looking for people to bounce ideas off of. Angelina and Jaka are a big help so far, but anyone can help out. So drop her a line. But review first.

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