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Chapter Four
Meanwhile, in the A. I. offices:
"Angel, you think we should go look for them? What if that guy comes for Richie now?" Cordelia wheedled. Angel put his book on the desk. It was obvious before she'd even asked that Cordelia had made up her mind to go and look for Doyle and Richie. It was safer all round if he went with her. He was no closer to solving this mystery anyway.
"Fine. Where do you suggest we start looking?" Angel answered, standing and grabbing his coat.
Cordelia quickly disguised her surprise at not having to persuade Angel. He really must be curious about this one, she mused.
"The dankest, darkest, dive of a bar within a, um, five mile radius of here", she replied with a smile.
"Cordelia..."
"What?! You asked. Trust me, ok. That's where Doyle will be. I'm not being nasty, it's just...who he is".
Angel's raised eyebrow was his only response.
"Hey, I can be mature occasionally, you know". Cordelia then marched straight past Angel and out of the door.
"Are you coming, or not?!"
Hidding a small grin, Angel followed Cordelia out of the office.
About fifty feet away from the A. I offices, Richie finally began to relax. He thought that Doyle had slowed down a bit, but the Irishman was still some way ahead of him. Close enough for the Immortal to keep an eye on him. He still couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen. More than just the fight with Stenn. He had grown to like the Irishman, and wanted to be on hand if he suffered his first death. As he considered this, and how best to explain immortality, as if on cue, his being began to tingle with the mental call of yet another immortal. He groaned. Brilliant. LA was turning out to be just as packed with immortals as Seacouver. One thing was certain, he was still too weak after the last fight to even think he had a chance at winning a second. He whirled round, trying to pinpoint the source of the buzz. There was a group of men standing outside a building on the other side of the street. As he watched, he noticed one of them - tall, blond, wearing glasses, also begin to scan the area. He finally saw Richie looking his way and nodded his head in recognition. He looked harmless enough, maybe he could get out of this one, Richie mused, as the man made his excuses and strolled over to them.
Doyle watched suspiciously as the blond man approached Richie. Regardless of how he was sure it seemed to Richie, he was keeping an eye on the other man. Still confused, he couldn't wait to hear the explanation for all this. As long as Richie wasn't killed first. As suspicious as he was, he still wanted to trust his gut instinct that Richie was a good guy. He wasn't entirely sure, but thought that the blond could well be Richie's opponent from the vision. This didn't bode well. Turning, he rushed into the office building, only to almost collide with Angel and Cordelia just inside the entrance.
"Doyle, you're ok!"
"Is Richie with you? He went to find you".
"Yeah, but I think he's just met that guy from the vision! What weapons have you got on you?"
"Stake, knife, gun", Angel stated matter-of-factly.
"Well, just shoot the bastard and ask questions later. I think I may have a clue to some of this weird sword stuff and we wouldn't want Richie dying on us before we can get the full story, now, do we?" Doyle answered with a grin as he led them outside.
Richie had one hand ready to pull out his sword at the approach of the immortal. The blond man looked calm and not particularly interested in a fight. He hoped the looks weren't deceptive.
"Richie Ryan", he greeted, "I already had one fight this evening, I'd really rather avoid another".
"Jack Kennedy", the other returned, coming to stand just a few feet in front of Richie, and staring at him unwaveringly.
"Your, er, your middle initial wouldn't happen to be F, would it?" Richie chuckled, his voice projecting a calm and cheerfulness he certainly didn't feel. It was an old Richie Ryan trait. Cover up the fear and concern with humour, bluster, and false bravado. It wasn't always something he needed now, since meeting Mac, but there was something almost spooky about this guy up close. He was unnerving, and Richie didn't trust him one bit.Kennedy just blinked at him, as if taking absolutely no notice of Richie's lame joke.
"Let's go boy. Your head is mine", he declared, drawing his sword.
"Great! Another one! Tell me, what is it about me that says 'boy'? I could be a thousand years old for all you know. Is it my hair? Clothes?" Richie sighed as he drew his sword and tried to play for time.
"Do we really have to do this now? I'm free tomorrow as well..."
"Tough. I have a prior arrangement for tomorrow. This evening is scheduled for taking young Immortal's Quickenings."
"Gee, thanks".
As they talked, trading barbs, they circled each other, trying to determine each other's style and ability. After a minute Richie decided to go on the defensive and lunged at Kennedy. The other man easily dodged Richie's sword and shook his head at him in mock disappointment. He returned a swift parry which just caught Richie on the arm. Richie frowned. It was obvious that Kennedy was not going to be an easy fight, and, especially considering his weakened state, he may well lose. The tentative parrying back and forth continued for some minutes. Richie was already starting to tire, and had taken a few nicks. Kennedy remained untouched.
"Enough of this wasting time", Kennedy suddenly declared, a smirk on his face. There was a gun in his hand, which Richie was sure wasn't a minute ago.
"Hey, that's not in the Rules", Richie commented, moving and hoping that Kennedy wouldn't be able to get a good aim at him. Unfortunately, he hadn't realised that he slowly but surely been backed up towards a dead end. There wasn't anywhere to run.
"You don't win by playing the Rules, boy".
Richie felt a swearing pain in his left leg as a bullet bit through the flesh. Another followed to his right arm, making him drop his sword. Kennedy just laughed at the expression on his face, and raised the gun to aim somewhere a little more fatal.
A gunshot rang out through the air, and a spilt-second later Richie watched in confusion as Kennedy crumpled to the ground. He turned and saw his new friends running towards him, Angel with a gun in his hand, and breathed a sigh of relief at the narrow escape. What was it with these guys? Didn't anyone play by the rules anymore?! He finally sank to the ground, his leg and arm beginning to heal, shear willpower keeping him on his feet until then.Richie's relief turned to terror a minute later as he watched a car come round the other corner - heading straight for Cordelia, who was lagging a little way behind the other two.
"Cordelia...", he began, but he then saw both Angel and Doyle react to his expression and turn at look at Cordelia, even as he tried to shout out a warning. Doyle reached Cordelia first, shoving her out of the way of the oncoming car, only to get hit himself instead.
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