Game Plan

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*'Henry Morgan, what's your story?' Doesn't belong to me, or the quote, whatever that is, it's the title of one of the videos on the ABC site.*

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Henry just looked at her, clearly deep in thought. At first, Jo stared back, unsure of what to do with herself. Then a slow grin began to work its way across his face, and she realized she was in trouble.

"Oh, no, you don't dare-"

Henry shook his head, pelting her with water. Jo jumped back, blinking rapidly and rubbing water from her face. "Henry Morgan, you've gone and done it now!"

He smiled and pulled the door back for her to step in. Jo did, giving him the good natured Evil eye.

"Quite sorry, Detective. That's what happens when you don't say, 'hello' at the door."

"Mmhmm."

"Fine, let me rephrase; when you don't say 'hello' at my home."

"Better. Much." Jo gripped his hand tightly and made him look her squarely in the eye. "So what's got you so on edge? I thought you were Mr. Skeleton Boy."

"Boy?"

"Yeah, boy. Anyway, is it that 'Adam' guy who cornered us in the alley? The one Abraham shot before he could hurt you more?"

Henry nodded bleakly, eyes softening from impenetrable diamonds to little pools of murky brown water. In her mind, she thought 'Henry Morgan, what's your story?'

"I don't know what to do, Jo. He's giving me hell and I can't get him to stop."

"So let's do something about it." She said, determined. Henry, uncrackable nut, had just cracked a little and called her by her first name for once. He stepped back, surprised.

"What do you propose? I don't want you to get hurt-"

"You seem to have forgotten that I'm not mortal anymore.... something... something changed me that day. You get it, right?"

He slowly nodded again. "He knows so much about me, though... Almost as if I'm transparent. And he's just a brick wall!" His voice rose a little in irritation at the last statement. Jo smiled, and when he looked back, Henry frowned. "What? What's so funny?"

"There's two of us and one of him."

"2000 years...."

"..... Is really not That long when you think about it. The Beginning? Please, what a bunch of crap. This guy thinks he's the Holy Grail Bearer... He's got another thing coming. Doesn't the Bible say that we officially began 6000 years ago?"

He looked at her. "No, I believe that was when the Ark was built....I don't know, honestly. It's been so long since I last read it. Abe could tell you, however, I'm sure. What do you suggest we do? Trap him?"

"That's exactly what we do. Do you know where he lives?"

"Maybe. An Antiques shop just like this one."

"So that's a start.... What if you go undercover. I could get you to lose the accent, y'know."

He looked truthfully and utterly panicked.

"Lose my accent? It's my identity!"

"No, no, not permantly. Good God, you're protective of yourself. No, what I meant was speak like you're American."

He cocked his head and huffed condescendingly. "And how would I do that?"

"Try it. Say, 'How's the weather?'"

He rolled his eyes, but repeated it to her. "How's the weather?"

Jo suppressed a laugh that unsuppressable.

Henry narrowed his eyes at her and folded his arms. "And why, pray tell, are you laughing now?"

"Henry..... Hate to break it to ya, but you sound like you came from the Wild West."

"You see? I did my best. We might have to-"

"So, you do come from Ohio."

He huffed again and continued. "We might have to find a different way to get to Adam."

"You told me about the cryptic notes.... What if we did that to him?"

Henry brightened up instantly, smiling like a schoolboy."Maybe there is hope your IQ's above Forrest Gump's 79!"

"You saw that movie?"

"What do you take me for, an old fool?"

Come to think of it, that was exactly what Jo thought of him. An old fool in a new world.

****************POV: Adam*******************

He slipped into the shop. It was dark and quiet, calm, just the way he liked it. He'd been working his stupid Taxi job for hours on end, and was so tired he considered just locking up instead of checking for anything stolen. Satisfied after ten minutes of checking his stock, Adam was about to plop down in his chair behind the desk he'd conversed with Henry in Morse code, when his eyes picked up a discrepancy in the solid oak texture. Written smoothly, with solid handwriting. No cursive, just letters marked in ink. And with a feather pen. Now, Adam wasn't a dullard by any means, just an immortal looking for a little fun. Henry had stumbled upon Jo, now he would pay the price, and with his life, quite easily. Not the end, but the relentlessness Adam would pursue him with. The rant about him at Joanna's office only boosted his pride in it. But this note, this piece of paper.... something was off about the handwriting. To clean and refined for modern writing, to black to be of any ordinary pen. A feather pen was hard to get and harder to make. So much so that Adam's first assumption was correct.

~~~> Henry's Note<~~~

A-

Battery Park. Seventh tree from you right. Tuesday, at Midnight. More considerably Wednesday, the first second of it.

There is something I believe young people do nowadays. It's called 'in your face'.

-H

~~~>End Note<~~~

Adam stared, gaping slightly. How the hell had he gotten in here? Henry Morgan of all people? The man was only intellectual, and he was so refined that he was viewed as pathetic by Adam. Him? How had he- Henry had to have had help. He had to, there was no question about it. And the 'in your face?' Adam thought he knew exactly who it was. Angrily, he crumbled the paper in his fist, then slammed it down onto the desk as hard as he could. So Henry wanted to play games?

Well, he often forgot that people played them back- the hard way.

******************Lucas' POV*********************

He was just finishing up the night shift, literally just seconds from leaving and heading out for a quick end-of-Monday-drink. It was all dark, no one being in the office except for Joanna and Hanson, dueling it out over whether or not it was ethical she should be taking ideas and requests from other people. And the lamed-foot janitor, the creepy one who never spoke, only stared and listed of the numbers of Pi listlessly. He should have broken the record by now, and Lucas was working up the courage to call Guiness and have someone come on down for him. Then again he wasn't sure if the guy was a pedophile or a gay, as he only seemed interested when there was someone youthful and male around. Lucas found himself the hapless focus sometimes. But none of that mattered, he was going to get a good drink, kick back, relax, maybe play some Call of Duty, or read his Graphic-

A hand twisted his arm around behind his back, and something soft was stuffed into his jaw as he opened his mouth to scream. Someone leaned in close to him, their breath making the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"Don't worry, I'm a friend of Henry's."

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