Endings: Book One

Chapter Three: Lost Souls

It's a basic truth of the human condition that everybody lies. The only variable depends on the motives behind such deceit.

-Adrian Legacy, One of Many.

London, a year ago.

The fog in the London suburbs was most excruciating, a disturbing experience for a first timer especially during that time of year. The cold dimness of the autumn rain indicated that winter was coming. And that only made the day more gloomier. Especially for Sir Eric Falsworth, the Earl of Nottingham, whose squeaky steps on the damp pavement of the rain laden streets attracted unwanted attention to his all so tensed up self.

He had opted to leave his car and driver a few ways back. Lest they had been followed and had taken the shortcuts he'd so desperately memorised.

There was no room for error.

One may wonder as to why a man of his stature and wealth was on such a discreet rendezvous and what it was that needed to be done  in one of the darkest alleys in London, that required his attention. He too had to remind himself sometimes.

The bags of supplies occupying both his hands were a perfect place to begin. Though it brought the question, what or whom were they for?

It was clearly evident with the number of people at his disposal that he would have not bothered to complete the task at hand individually. Especially at three in the morning. Surely his staff was competent enough to take explicit care of such an errand.

Yet as he stumbled onto a misplaced block at the edge of his destination, he cursed under his breath before slowly comforting himself. He rubbed the dirt off his coat as he picked himself up.

It's all worth it. In due time.

He stepped into the building as soon as it was opened for him once he had knocked. They had been expecting him.

Good.

He was better off inside than on the streets, for his safety and the people inside. Thus, he hastily rushed into the building, sealing the entrance with the same sequence of locks and bolts.

You could never be too comfortable around here.

An hour later, he was done with what had brought him there. His instructions the same. They were to never leave the premises or talk to anyone. Neither were they to open the door for anyone but him and they knew his arrival time. If anything out of the ordinary happened they were to notify him immediately. They were to keep the package safe at the cost of their lives, for with it lied the lifeline of their whole operation.

Or all of this would be a massive disaster.

With that he hurriedly left their presence, making his way past the dark streets avoiding the numerous gazes that followed his wake. Not knowing that the gazes had been with him for as long as they needed to and they always brought back what was needed of them. Unknowingly, his entire plan and all those involved was already in jeopardy.

***

Present day

"So how was your interview?" asked an always unnerving Sarah as she welcomed Camilla into her office.

Camilla made no remark as she slowly walked to the coffee machine on the opposite side of the room. She poured herself a cup, two sugars and slowly turned to face her best friend.