A/N:THANK YOU! I appreciate all of the kind reviews! I promise I will get back to each of you individually as soon as possible. But, I don't want to keep you waiting any longer than necessary…so…here is the next chapter!
"Girl." Evey kept her head down as she shuffled around a collection of files that lay before her. She had found them scattered across a desk, like playing cards caught in a game of 52 pickup. Figuring that the busier she looked, the less likely it would be that someone would bother her, Evey had grabbed the pile and began to stack them, occasionally rearranging their order. Nobody questioned her existence, and nobody bothered her. She had continued to do this for over fifteen minutes.
"Girl!" It was just as V had said, the studio was far to busy to be concerned with the likes of a plainly dressed person. Especially since Evey appeared to be working, she blended right in with her surroundings. People moved quickly from one hallway to another, not even bothering to give casual greetings to the others they passed. Everyone had a purpose, and little time to complete it.
"GIRL!" A hand slammed down in front of Evey, rattling both her thoughts and the table. It was then that Evey realized that the harsh voice was being directed at her. Slowly she raised her eyes up to the commanding presence before her.
A woman with sharp, pointed glasses was glaring at her—giving her a gaze that chilled Evey's blood. Her blonde hair was pulled back so tightly that it seemed to stretch the skin of her face back as well. In one of her arms she was cradling a stack of papers and folders that dwarfed Evey's meager pile.
"Y-Yes?" Evey questioned, her voice a combination of apologetic and frightened.
"I don't know who you think you are, but if you're going to last here, you better get much quicker when somebody calls for you, understood?"
"Yes ma'am." Evey stood, feeling as though an errand were about to be issued.
She was right.
"I need four lattes from the downstairs machine. Very little cream in two and one of those without sugar. Make sure that all are made with no added flavors, and don't forget the cup holders. And Deitrich would like his tea."
Before Evey could even ask what floor the latte machine was on, where she could reach the mysterious and severe woman after she had acquired these beverages, and where this Deitrich person was, whose name sounded somehow familiar, she had turned on her heel—her very high and pointed heel—and briskly exited the room. They retreating footsteps abandoning Evey sent her into an internal panic. Helplessly, she stared at the pile of paperwork she had been taking care of, hoping it would provide some sort of clue.
"Patricia can be a real pain," came a voice from behind her. Evey hadn't noticed but there had been another occupant in the room. A woman not much older than she was giving her a sympathetic smile and was inching towards her.
"Have you been working here long?" The woman prodded. Evey shook her head, afraid that if she spoke she would break the list of coffee orders she was trying hard to memorize.
"My name's Pam." Extending her hand, Pam smiled broadly. Evey returned the handshake with a weaker, yet polite smirk.
"The machine you're looking for is on the 2nd floor. Just take the elevator down and go to the right. Patricia's office is back up here, second door after the bathroom. And Deitrich is on the 16th floor, his office is huge, you can't possibly miss it."
At this new information Evey's expression transformed—she was now beaming at Pam.
"Thank you," she replied, grateful for the much needed help.
The 16th floor was much quieter. Few people roamed the spacious hallways, and they were less frantic as they moved about. As Evey carried the silver tea tray, she again felt invisible. Nobody turned to glance at her, no one even bothered to make eye contact with her. To them, she was nothing more than a secretary delivering beverages to the truly important people. Without her, the stars would have to work on empty bellies, but other than that, she served on real purpose.
As she approached the end of the hallway, Evey noticed a door with a gold placard tacked onto the front. Gordon Deitrich It was then that Evey nearly dropped the tray and its contents onto the white, polished floor. Gordon, her cousin, was beyond that door. She suddenly realized why the name had seemed so familiar. He would recognize her for sure. And her name was all over the television, the newspapers…she would be in the custody of the Fingermen within the hour.
Evey hovered near the door, chewing on her bottom lip while she thought about her options. She could leave, and abandon the plan. But what then? If she didn't follow through with V's orders, she would have nowhere to return to. She could pretend that she hadn't been able to find Deitrich, though Patricia would probably just get annoyed and draw more attention to her, possibly firing her from a position she'd never had, on the spot. No, she would have to move as quickly as possible, and hide her face from her cousin.
Evey knocked quietly on the door with her elbow—her hands being completely taken up by the tray. Within the room she could hear Gordon pause before replying, "It's open!"
Nudging the door with her elbow, Evey managed to wedge her way inside the office. Gordon was walking around the room with a hands free phone.
"…I think it's a wonderful idea…crucifixions and the like…but you'll never get it approved."
Evey kept her head down, hoping that her cousin was so distracted by the conversation that he wouldn't notice a different girl bringing him his tea. She headed over to the table as he continued to leisurely pace about the room.
"…Yes I know you've worked hard on it…but…look…really now…"
Gordon covered his eyes with his hand, and sighed slightly.
"…just get rid of those few scenes, and we'll be all set for tomorrow, alright?"
It was at this moment that Evey had managed to get the tray down onto Gordon's desk, and she was beginning to make as quick and speedy an exit as she had an entrance, that Gordon's conversation ended. He removed the ear piece, and turned to face the newest addition to his office. And though Evey had nearly reached the door, her back to him, her hand inches from the polished knob, she panicked when he offered a polite, "Thank you, Miss…?"
Social decorum required Evey turn around and properly introduce herself—especially because she was far less important than the person addressing her. But if she turned around, he would recognize her face in an instant. And beyond her face, the last name, Hammond, would give her away completely.
After a lengthy pause, she managed to squeak out, "Adams."
"Miss Adams," Gordon began, his voice slowly getting louder, "please, don't be shy. I don't bite." He was rapidly approaching, and if Evey didn't find a way out, her identity would be discovered. All she had to do was push a door open, a simpler yet more difficult task could not be imagined.
"Mr. Deitrich, please forgive me but I really must be--"
"Evey?"
He was standing right beside her, his face now frighteningly close to her own. His presence was that of a shadow suddenly turned into a human. The two remained motionless, a current of palpable shock coursing between them.
"Evey," he repeated, bewilderment evident in his voice, "is that really you?"
She could have twisted the doorknob, and sprinted out of the office, never once looking back. Instead, she let her hand drop helplessly to her side, and turned to face her cousin. Her eyes remained downcast, as if she were immensely embarrassed. She crossed her arms, bracing herself for whatever was to come next.
When he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her she nearly fainted from shock. He was far larger than she, both in girth and height. She looked like a tiny doll trapped in the embrace of an exuberant youth.
"Evey, my God," he whispered into her hair, "are you alright?"
Before she could reply he had stepped back, intensely staring at her. She shivered a bit, feeling rather exposed.
"Are you hurt? Are you alright?" He repeated, his eyes daring her to lie.
This was not the reaction Evey had been expecting. Her eyelids were wide and stretched, and disbelief had been scribbled large and bold over her face.
"I'm…fine…." She trailed off, not sure what to say.
"I've kept seeing your face on the news, hearing your name on the broadcasts. You can't imagine how worried I've been."
"Then…" Evey's eyebrows furrowed, "you're not angry with me? I mean…you're not going to call the Fingermen?"
Gordon took a step back, and frowned. "Evey! How could you say that?"
Hearing those words gave Evey a comfort that she had never before experienced. The relief shone through her face as her clenched muscles relaxed. But before she could fully express her gratitude, her cousin grabbed her wrist.
"We need to get you out of here, Evey. Before someone recognizes you. I can bring you home…just…stay here….while I think…just let me think."
Gordon went back to his desk. He sat down, and rested his head in his hands, rubbing them through his well-kempt, dark hair. Eventually he worked his way down to his temples, massaging them as if relaxing them would stimulate some sort of solution to reveal itself. Perhaps it worked because within a few seconds Gordon lifted his head up and pushed a button on the intercom. After a moment of silence, a new voice entered the room.
"Yes, Mr. Deitrich?"
"Ah, yes, Pam…I need a car downstairs in five minutes or so. I'll be going home for the rest of the day." Evey checked her watch, it was 11:30. Was he really allowed to come and go as he pleased?
"Certainly, sir. Is there anything else I can provide you with?"
"No, Pam, that's all. Thank you."
"Of course, sir." A soft beep indicated that the connection had ended, and the two family members were alone in the room.
Gordon stood up from his desk and approached Evey. Before she could ask several pressing questions that were on her mind, he had both of her hands in his. He stared into her eyes, eyes so full of emotion and genuine concern that Evey felt tears forming at the corners of her own eyes.
"Evey, we don't have much time. We need to find you a costume of some sort…" Suddenly, Evey involuntarily gasped. V was going to be bursting through the building in a few minutes…she had to tell Gordon.
"Gordon, wait, I…"
He either didn't hear her or chose to ignore her. "…I'm sure Marissa would have something…but how to get it up here…"
"Gordon, please, listen, there's something…"
Evey's words were useless. They floated over Gordon's head and out the open window. Her mouth screwed itself into a scowl that soon spread over her entire face.
"Gordon, listen to me!"
At the shrill scream, Gordon froze in mid-syllable. He gazed down at his tiny cousin, who was now literally shaking with anger. Her lips were pursed and her petite hands clutched Gordon's meaty, manicured ones.
"Evey?" He questioned, as if prompting a young child to explain a story in its entirety, and not to leave anything out.
"Gordon…V is coming…the terrorist."
"What?" His eyes widened, bewildered he shook his head as if trying to ward the idea away.
"He's going to be here any second…God if he finds out I've been talking to you…" Her eyebrows furrowed. A stain on the Persian carpet beneath her feet became increasingly interesting to gaze at.
"...we need to get out of here." Evey's head snapped upwards. "We have to leave before he can take over the building."
"Take over the building…? Evey have you lost your mind?" Incredulous, Evey gaped at Gordon. He looked as though he were a few moments away from laughter. What could possibly be so funny about a terrorist ambushing a television station, and taking it over?
"There are cameras," he pointed out one in the corner of his room with a giant flourish of his arm, "everywhere. If he even attempts to get close, security will stop him before he can get to the elevator."
"No, Gordon, you don't understand he--"
Evey never had a chance to finish her explanation. She might have been about to reveal the entire plan to Gordon. Or perhaps she was going to attempt to explain how insane she knew V was, and how logic tended to elude him. Whatever she was about to say, she was cut off by the entrance of a flustered, nearly hysterical Pam.
She had flung both doors open with the strength of professional football player. And the moment she was safely over the carpet line, she slammed both immense wooden doors behind her. Leaning against the framework she gasped to catch her breath, but didn't hesitate long before spluttering:
"Mr. Deitrich! There's a terrorist in the building! The masked man who robbed those stores!"
Gordon's head snapped backed to where Evey stood. She was trembling, and her face matched the paleness of the crisp white papers stacked on his desk.
"Oh God…it's too late…" she mumbled, her eyes unfocused and her breath coming in short gasps. "…he'll kill us." She whispered, an afterthought that did not need to be mentioned.
Pam said nothing and if she recognized Evey as V's accomplice she didn't make a mention of it. She remained perched against the doors, as if suggesting that her weight alone could prevent an intruder from barging in. Out of nervousness she began to gnaw on her lip. Eventually she dug through a layer of skin, and a trickle of crimson dribbled onto her chin.
Gordon was the only one of the trio who managed to remain relatively calm. He had untangled his hands from Evey's grip, and was now content to pace around the office. A few times he moved toward the window, peering out behind the white curtain, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of V departing out of one of the lower windows.
"…he'll kill me…." Evey murmured to herself again and again. Her legs became wobbly like a young fawn's, yet she did not fall. Breathing in ragged, sporadic gasps, Evey's eyes shot around the room, as if trapped in a frenzied dance. Her irises swam in a sea of white, never able to focus on one object or place for an extended period of time.
"…Good Evening, London…" Evey's heart nearly stopped when she heard to familiar line. A rush of emotions burst in her chest like firecrackers. V had succeeded. Somehow he had managed to overtake the station. Despite her nervousness, one of the explosions within her showered a mist of pride upon her. He had done it, he was broadcasting his message.
"What the hell?" Gordon heard the voice, and turned sharply to Pam. "Open the door," he insisted, turning to the frightened secretary.
Pam almost hesitated. But years of extended conditioning in doing whatever her bosses told her—no matter how degrading, pointless, or senseless it seemed—had done its intended purpose. She pulled the doors open, cowering behind one of them as soon as her job was done. Curling up in the corner, she watched as Gordon briskly headed towards the hallway.
"Gordon, don't go!" Evey shouted, yet remaining frozen to her spot.
Her words were futile, because Gordon continued walking towards the hallway. When he turned a corner and disappeared from sight, Evey's intestines had knotted themselves so tightly that she felt sick. V could be anywhere—he had been vague in telling her the specifics of the plan. From what limited information she had gathered from V, and while wandering about the building, he was most likely still in one of the broadcasting booths. As soon as the message was complete, V had promised that he would collect her in the women's bathroom on the main floor.
A thousand questions chased themselves around her mind. Would V search for her if she wasn't at the designated spot? What would he do if he spotted her leaving with Gordon? What if V was killed, could she blame him entirely for her kidnapping, labeling herself a victim of a heinous terrorist?
Faintly she could hear V's speech, there wasn't much left of it. She hadn't much time…she could either attempt to get past Gordon, and hide in the bathroom until V found her; hide in the office until the attack was over; or find Gordon and convince him to leave with her before the entire studio was crawling with Fingermen. Evey would never know what her choice would have been, because Gordon had appeared, motioning with his hands for her to come to him. She didn't need to be prompted again. Sprinting through the open doors, and abandoning the cowering Pam, Evey dashed to her cousin.
"Quick, we can use the emergency exit," he whispered. He led to her a door posted with multiple warnings about the alarm system that would be activated if the door was opened. Ignoring them, Gordon pushed open the heavy metal door, evoking a piercing shriek from the building's several different alarms.
"We have to get out before anyone sees us!" Gordon shouted above the din. Evey nodded, and forced herself to keep up with her cousin. For a portly man, he could move with surprising speed, and Evey found herself running to keep his pace.
As they reached the final flight of stairs, Evey breathed a small sigh of relief. They were in the clear—she was going to make it. And the minute that thought had popped into her mind, the sickest higher beings of the universe decided to be cruel.
Like an angry bullet—dressed in a business suit—Dominic shot through the door that would lead Gordon and Evey to freedom. His gun was pointed in front of him, and immediately aimed it at the pair. It took him a few seconds to realize who he was aiming at. But when he recognized Evey, his eyes widened and he gripped the gun as hard as humanly possible, as if he attempting to obliterate it into a thousand pieces.
"Don't you move!" He commanded, before reaching with his other hand into his pocket. Producing a walkie-talkie he spoke into it, his voice dripping with excitement and urgency.
"Sir…I've got her! Evey Hammond, accomplice to the terrorist V!"
A moment of crackling silence ensued. But eventually Detective Finch's voice broke through the static. "You haven't told anyone else, have you?"
Confused, Dominic stuttered, "N-no…"
"Good. Keep it that way until I get there."
Dominic shrugged before clicking the black radio off. He then turned back to the pair, reminding them, "Don't even think about moving."
"Wait, you don't understand!" Gordon shouted, putting his hands up. "I'm innocent! I was leading the terrorist to your custody. You have to believe me!"
Evey's head snapped so quickly towards Gordon that it was in danger of snapping off. Disbelief and shock marred her face.
"Gordon…how could you?"
"You didn't really think I'd help you?" He asked her, as if he couldn't quite fathom the level of her stupidity. "You're a wanted woman, Evey. Why would I keep you, a criminal? Why would I put my entire life at risk?"
"I-I thought…I thought you…" Evey trailed off, her eyes downcast. She fought the tremendous urge to break down sobbing, and began to lose as a tear rolled down her cheek. It splattered down onto the ground in front of her.
The door behind Dominic opened slowly, and Evey kept staring at the floor. She had no desire to look her impending doom in the face. The silence between the group of four settled like a blanket threatening to smother all of them. She felt Gordon stiffen beside her, and she heard Dominic mutter, "What the hell?"
The gun went off, and Evey screamed, feeling her chest for the puncture wound that was no doubt going to be the cause of her death. When she found none, she looked up, and nearly fainted.
V, his smiling masked face pointed up at her, was standing in the doorway. Dominic had turned around, attempting to shoot him, but V had grabbed his arm. The bullet had gone through the wall beside V, only a few centimeters away from piercing him. But Dominic wasn't going to give up without a fight. He attempted to wriggle out of V's grip, but the gloved hand held him fast. Evey watched the struggle, unknowingly holding her breath.
"Evey, come on!" Gordon reached for her wrist, and she instinctively pulled away.
"Get off of me!" She screeched, her voice nearly matching the pitch of the alarms going off around them.
"Evey, I was trying to trick him, I didn't mean any of it." He impatiently replied. "We have to hurry, or else we'll be caught for sure. Come on!"
The gears began to churn in her head. Did she follow Gordon, who moments ago had claimed that he was turning her over? Or did she wait and hope that V won the fight before the Detective and other reinforcements came?
The gun went off again, and the bang startled Evey. She turned to face Gordon, and he took that as a sign that she was willing to follow him. Grabbing her wrist, he yanked her back up the stairs. He attempted to explain his plan to her, but the noise was too much, and she never really heard any of it. She nodded anyway, pretending to understand completely. As they darted up the stairs, eventually exiting out one of the doors, Evey couldn't help but glance back down.
V was staring up at her. She knew that he was wearing a mask, and that the plastic expression couldn't change…but she felt as though he were scowling at her.