Chapter Twenty-Seven
The lights at the Lawson residence were all on as Nadia pulled into the driveway; whoever was inside with her parents was making very sure that he couldn't be caught unawares. Taking a deep breath, she unbuckled herself and climbed out of her car, making sure to take her purse from its usual resting place between the seats; standing in the night air, she glanced up at the sky and let the moon distract her for a moment. Shaking her head to clear it, she locked the driver's side door behind herself. Facing the walkway up to her parents' front door, she squared her shoulders against the weight she felt pressing down on her and forced herself to move. Ringing the doorbell, she stood back from the door and waited, hoping she had not taken too long in getting there.
It was opened by her mother, dressed in some jogging pants and a t-shirt. Not her usual attire, but Nadia was just glad to see her unharmed; any relief she felt was mitigated somewhat when an unfamiliar, male voice sounded from the living room. "This way, please, Mrs. Lawson, Miss Lawson."
Her mother sighed, but gave Nadia's hand a squeeze as the pair re-entered together. Nadia flinched at the sight of her father at gunpoint, though he was trying to be his usual, smiling self; he, too, looked like he had been forced to get dressed in a hurry and was wearing a pair of shorts and an old, baggy sweater of her mother's. It would almost have been funny, had the situation been different. At the direction of the fourth person in the room, Mrs. Lawson joined her husband on the couch.
The man in question was, of course, holding a gun and was standing against one wall, his back against a solid surface and his view of the room unobstructed; he was wearing an overcoat, even indoors, that obscured most of his attire, but she could make out some worn leather shoes and faded pant legs from under its edge. He was a middle-aged, sour-faced fellow with greying hair that was probably once a rich shade of brown; and he could use a shave, if she was being entirely honest, he was looking a little haphazardly prickly.
"It took you a while to get here," he began, without introducing himself. "I called an hour ago."
"Yeah, well, I'm here," she stated, trying to inject her voice with a little confidence. "I had to convince Orion nothing was wrong, so I could come alone. Just like you wanted, Mr...?"
"McClane," came the response. "Simon McClane. And I apologize for having to resort to these tactics. I had to be sure that our chat happened without Orion interfering; your parents need to hear this, too, so it really was the only way."
She blinked at him. The only way? Is he serious? "You could have just asked to speak with us."
He shook his head. "No, I'm afraid I just couldn't take the risk. Now please; take a seat."
Nadia watched him for a moment, seeing the way his eyes jumped between them and the windows. He's a paranoid sort of a man, then. Lovely. Taking a seat in her father's usual armchair, which had been moved so it sat beside the couch her parents were on, she set her purse on the floor under the little table immediately beside her. She did her best to smile at her parents; they were unharmed so far, which was a huge weight off of her chest. Taking another deep breath, she steeled herself for the task still to come; getting everyone through this in one piece.
"So? Since you've gone to all this trouble, what did you want to talk to us about?"
"Orion," he replied, as if it was obvious. "As you just said, you've been hanging around with him; you obviously don't realize how much danger you're in."
She raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"
The man laughed wryly. "Because if you did, you'd run from him as fast as your legs would carry you."
"Uh-huh. Any particular reason for that, then?"
McClane growled, apparently frustrated by her lack of instant agreement. "Because he's dangerous! He's insane! Do you have any idea the things he's done?"
She shrugged, but could almost feel her parents pricking up their ears; something the man with the gun noticed immediately. "Look, perhaps if I explain my history with the man a little, you'll get it. He is responsible for all the worst moments of my life. When I was in my late teens, some thirty years ago, I lost my home to a fire. I was pulled to safety by a retired fireman that had been driving by and had seen the smoke, but neither of my parents made it out. My rescuer was a nice old man; sort of took me in, you might say. I don't think I could have gotten through the pain of losing my family without him. Even after I moved out of his home a few years later, we stayed in touch; I was there for his wedding, four years after I graduated. He was my first customer when I opened the doors to my own private investigator's office that same year; he wanted me to look for his dentures, of all things. And I was there for his wife's funeral, almost five years after that."
"You were close," Nadia remarked, just trying to remind the man that they were there; the glassy-eyed look that had been coming over him had been slightly alarming.
He nodded. "Yes, we were. I let him stay with me, after his wife died; he had nowhere else to go, really. Well, I come home one evening, to find him going quiet and still; I knew what was happening and so did he. I wanted to call an ambulance, but he didn't. I guess he felt it was his time, I don't know. He passed away there and then, but before I could so much as get my mind around that fact, he changed. Right before my eyes, he went from being an old man to a young one. And you know what he looks like, Miss Lawson."
She shrugged. "So what? Doesn't that mean Orion saved your life?"
"No!" he barked, causing his captive audience to jump. "Because as soon as he came to, he tried to run. And he set my house on fire to do it. Coincidence? I think not."
Nadia felt her eyebrow creeping up. "So you're saying you hate him and have been chasing him for... how long? Twenty years? All because you think that he burned your parents’ house down, saved you, was your friend for ten years, then burned your house down again."
He glared at her. "He deceives people, Miss Lawson; that's the point I'm making. He lies and he pretends, but when he's caught, he lashes out. Can you honestly say that you trust him?"
She fidgeted somewhat; the story was obviously more than a little biased against Orion, which made her wonder how seriously she should take it. It seemed like McClane was unaware that Orion's alter-egos worked separately from him, too, but, if nothing else, it was obvious that McClane believed in his accusations pretty strongly. Her father stepped in before she could say anything, however. "Look, Mr. McClane, her mother and I are against her hanging around with dangerous individuals, obviously; but I can't believe that you've taken three people at gunpoint just to tell her she's getting in with the wrong crowd."
McClane nodded. "You're right, I didn't. I want her help."
Nadia looked up, blinking again. "My help? With what?"
He shrugged. "I have been chasing Orion for nearly twenty years, like you had guessed; it's not an easy thing to do and, to be honest, it’s more frustrating than rewarding most of the time. Sometimes its months, even years, without a lead to speak of. He's keeping close to you for now; I don't know why, but whatever scheme he has in mind must not be ready for him to act on. While he's here, you're ideally placed to help me pin him down and end his miserable existence once and for all."
"You want me to set him up so you can kill him?"
"Yes," came the all-too-serious reply.
"Mr. McClane, our daughter's no killer," her mother interjected. "Even if you intend to do the work yourself, it makes her an accessory to murder, something I know she would never do."
The man smiled patiently. "No one would never need to know; Orion is not a registered citizen. No one has any idea who he is. There can't be a murder investigation without a missing party."
Nadia, still quietly mulling all of this over, was struggling with the thoughts and doubts her mind was rapidly producing; her first instinct was to talk to Orion and get his side, but... it was true that he hadn't exactly been very forthcoming with her before. Would he really lie to her about something this important? She had trusted Thomas, yes, but
...
Seeing her wavering, McClane cleared his throat to get her attention. "Miss Lawson; all I ask is your cooperation. You won't have to put yourself, or your parents, in danger and you'll have done the world a favour in helping to remove this man."
She sighed. "I... I don't know."
McClane moved a few steps closer, his voice lowered to a conspiring stage-whisper. "Can you trust him?"
Nadia looked up at him, then away; he nodded and extended his free hand. "Just shake my hand, Miss Lawson; we'll deal with Orion and you'll never have to see me again."
She stood, uncertainly, looking at her parents; her mother was shaking her head, but her father looked less sure, one way or the other. With no unified consensus from the couch, she looked back at McClane, slowly walking forward.
She raised her hand, slowly, but did not grasp his, yet. "I... this feels wrong."
Leaning in closer, he looked her square in the eye. "I do what I say, Miss Lawson; can you say the same for him? Has he told you the things I have?"
"Well, no, but... Thomas is a part of him and I... I mean, he... I trusted him."
McClane intoned his selling point once again. "But, knowing what you do now, can you trust Orion?"
Sighing, she took a step forward to take his hand, but tripped; perhaps the carpet had bunched up without her noticing, or perhaps she was not as willing to go through with it as she thought. Either way, her stumble caused her to fall against the man. Embarrassed, she let him help her up, and then took his hand; and, in a blur of movement, pulled herself in close, kneeing the man in the stomach. Certainly not expecting it, McClane felt the breath driven from him, but jerked his gun up and squeezed the trigger, the bullet digging deeply into the young woman's side. Nadia staggered back, her blood already beginning to trickle from the wound even as her parents sat in stunned silence. McClane spat, raising his gun to aim the weapon squarely at her heart.
"Bad move."
The impotent 'click' of his pistol doing approximately nothing was a surprise; as was discovering the clip had been taken from the gun when he held it up to see what was wrong with it. Nadia held the missing ammunition up, smiling smugly despite the pain and threw the slender, round-cornered rectangle onto the couch, between her parents. McClane, seething with barely repressed anger at this point, tossed his emptied gun back to one side, but it was the youngest Lawson who spoke first.
"Does Nadia Lawson trust Orion?"
The change set on quickly; black hair shortening, wider hips narrowing while her torso barrelled out to male proportions, skin paling rapidly and green eyes becoming red. The man standing before McClane checked his side briefly, smiling quietly at the absence of a bullet wound.
"Infer your own conclusion, Simon."
In Icarus' Shadow Page 43
