Fillmore: The Sign of Four

Act 2: Doubled Down

Cornelius Fillmore, deliquent turned detective, trod the streets. Tehama was hanging off his shoulder, muttering soft whispers into his hair and basically fondling him. Anza was a couple of steps back, eyes flicking warily. He knew that there was always a chance of trouble where this trio was headed.

"Tehama, step off! Now is just not the time!" Fillmore continued the thought silently in his mind: I doubt it'll ever be the time. Especially while... That thought was ended. This was no time to be thinking of Ingrid. It was time to do work.

"Ahh, you're never any fun", purred the busty Hawaiian, nuzzling her pink-streaked dark hair against Fillmore, who responded by physically pushing her away, creasing her smile into a frown. "Here we are. Anza, make sure nothing strange goes down." Fillmore recieved a curt nod in return as he knocked on the door of "On guard, people."

Fillmore pushed open the bamboo door, embossed with a tiger, revealing a hallway, panelled with an unknown dark wood, dimly lit with sconces. A deep voice echoed from within: "Salumbrar, friends. You are expected." The trio from X proceeded carefully down the hallway, in deference to the expensive hardwood and the almost overwhelming aura of the house. "The third on the left." Fillmore nodded in response to Anza's murmur, and pushed open the corresponding door, identical to the one at the entrance.

Ingrid tried to move. Tried to scream. Tried to call for Fillmore. No such luck. As her vision slowly recalibrated to the darkness, she began to percieve features of the four - presumably, her captors, as the freshly-drawn blood ran down her wrist. One towered over the rest, and one was definitely what could be termed a midget. And definitely dark skinned. The midget approached, running his harsh, weathered hands over the detective's pale skin, briefly fondling her small breasts through her clothes.

Ingrid recoiled and squirmed at his uncaring touch, breathing a sigh of relief as one of the other shadowy figures barked a command in a language foreign to even her linguistic skills - a strange occurence for the smartest student at X. This apparent leader subsequently stepped up to his captive and gently removed the ball gag. Ingrid locked eyes with a Caucasian face she didn't recognize. "My apologies for my companion. Sadly for you, I do suspect that may be the least of your worries."

"You really should let me go. The Safety Patrol isn't going to stand for this. It's only a matter of time before you four get put away - for a long, long time." Fillmore's partner put up a brave front. Her unknown tormentor whistled softly. "Quite a spiel. However, I do not share such faith in their abilities." He paused, steepling his bony fingers. "...I don't suppose you'd be willing to co-operate in our scheme, would you? A cerebral creature such as yourself would be an enormous asset."

Ingrid tried to smirk. Despite the difficulty of acting cocky while starving, dehydrated, bleeding, and bound, she judged it somewhat of a success. "Well, what's your plan?" In reply, she recieved a chuckle. "Oh, please. It pains me to see you reduced to such cliches. I require an answer. Further, I am a patient man. I await your reply." With that, all save the giant slowly exited the room, triggering another blinding flash of light.

The trio of Safety Patrollers entered stepped across the threshold and into a piece of India. A dark-skinned teenager with close-cropped black hair and violet eyes was already sitting cross-legged on the floor, gently sipping a cup. He bowed slightly at their entry. "Please...a seat." He gestured at three mats on the floor, allowing a small smile as Anza struggled to adopt the same pose.

Fillmore cast a quick glance around the room. The floor was done in mahogany, and the walls in a shade of wood he didn't recognize. Indian art hung from the walls, but more interestingly was the array of oriental weapons that adorned the luxurious room. "You know why we're here, Mansabdar."

"Cornelius...you and your associates give me entirely too much credit. What, pray tell, are you talking about?" Fillmore casually flipped the four of clubs across the small table separating the two groups. "Mind telling me what this might be about?"

Mansabdar turned the playing card over in his browned hands. His brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I can add nothing to your investigation, officers." Anza rose, glaring across at the seated Indian. "What! Man, if there's anything to know about this, it's in your head." Mansabdar took a calm sip. "Cornelius, please restrain your thug." "Anza, sit down." Turning back to his host, Fillmore continued: "But man, he's right. You got to know something about this. I mean, you're...well, you know. If you're going to clam up, well, we'll be on our way. You know where to find us."

Tehama and Fillmore stood. The oriental rose with them, passing back the card to Fillmore. "I can't say I've ever much cared for the Andaman Islands. Savages." The two exchanged a look, and the trio started walking down the corridor. "Weird, huh", said Tehama, clinging back to Fillmore. "This place just gives me the creeps." She pouted as he slipped away from her embrace, opening the door back out to the real world.

"Huh? What's this?" Anza stooped, retrieving a playing card from the front steps. He dextrously flipped it over, revealing a similar pattern as previous, except it pictured a tiger instead of a snake. "I wonder what it means..." Anza's voice trailed off as he passed the card to Fillmore. "Nothing we can do here, people. Back to HQ."

"Ingrid, hold on. I'm coming."

Ingrid slowly rotated her left shoulder. After the exit, food and water had been brought, and someone had unlocked her left arm and leg, though not after carefully searching around for anything that could be used as a lockpick. Even with her skills in such arts, however, these were top-grade restraints, and X's smartest student was unsure in her ability to break free, even with a pick.

She'd been grateful for the water. Thirsty hadn't quite been an adequate description. The ability to stretch and relieve some of the inevitable pains that come from being cuffed to a stone wall for ten hours was also very much appreciated, though a bonus. Water was the important thing. It was only a matter of time. Only a matter of time. Only a matte-

Bright light flared once again. The four almost-familiar figures entered once more. A genial voice reached out. "Have you reached a decision?"

"I have." A pause. "Well?"

"No thanks." Another pause. Longer, this time. There was a sound. A clunk. Maybe an object hitting the floor?

It was the last thing she heard. Four figures turned to each other and nodded.

Cornelius Fillmore sat at his desk, nimbly twirling a pair of playing cards, eyes staring into oblivion.