Meanwhile, down the hall, and for all intents and purposes, a hundred miles away, Sydney was still basking in Nigel's return, almost afraid to let him go lest he waver and vanish like a desert mirage.
As much as she'd hoped and prayed and wished and dared to dream, she'd wondered if the moment she now shared with her assistant would ever come. "Oh God Nigel, I missed you," she whispered softly in his ear, tightening her grip around his thin body and ignoring the tears that traced down her cheeks. "I wasn't sure we'd get here in time," she confessed, burying her face against the rough cloth of his shoulder. For the first time in nearly a week, her world fell back on its axis, righting everything that had been thrown askew. Her kindred spirit was once more at her side.
"It's all right Syd," Nigel whispered in return, closing his eyes and wondering how he could have ever doubted her friendship. Witnessing the near murder of his brother, coupled with a week of fear, drugs, and uncertainty had dangerously clouded his judgement earlier, but now everything glittered with crystal clarity. "Even if you hadn't made it, I know you would have tried your best."
Sydney let out a ragged breath of relief as his words washed through her mind and soothed her soul. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she'd been afraid... not only of losing her friend forever, but of disappointing him. Nigel kept a light of special faith in her abilities, she'd seen it in his eyes several times when things took a turn for the worse. It was a light of total trust, and there were times when it scared her... times she wondered if she could live up to it. No one had ever trusted her the way Nigel did, and likewise, she had never trusted anyone the way she trusted him.
They clung to each other a few moments longer in mutual silence, each lost in their own world of thankfulness, before finally disentangling and standing apart. At the separation, Claudia left Preston's side and pounced, flinging her arms around Nigel and giving him a sisterly kiss on the cheek.
"Nigel, I'm so glad you're alright! We were all so worried." She pulled back and looked him over with a frown of concern. From all outward appearances, it seemed a wonder the young man was on his feet. Despite having been traveling through the desert sun, his complexion had paled at least two shades, fading from a healthy cream to Cliffs of Dover chalk. Shadows lingered around his eyes and lightly smudged his cheeks, and even the baggy robe he wore couldn't disguise the fact he'd lost several pounds. "Are you okay?"
Nigel bowed his head slightly. "I wasn't," he answered truthfully, glancing across the room to catch a tight smile of encouragement from his brother. He couldn't help but return the expression and pass it on to Claudia. "But I think I'm getting much better."
At the reminder Nigel wasn't feeling up to par, Sydney stepped forward and took him by the arm, leading him to a seat on the corner of the bed. "What happened Nigel?" she asked gently, carefully monitoring his reaction. "Did he hurt you?"
*Did he hurt me?* Nigel weighed the question. Physically, The Viper had scarcely touched him. "He never struck me if that's what you mean." And it was true: The Viper had never raised a hand against him. Injected him with sodium pentothal? Yes. Drugged him? Yes. Humilated him? Yes. But hit him? No. Not even in the distant New York hotel room had The Viper been the one to knock him out. Of course, he only had the assassin's word about that, but for some reason he had believed the man.
"You mean he *never* hit you?" Sydney repeated incredulously, scrutinizing her assistant closely. True, she didn't see any bruises on his face, but that didn't mean the evidence wasn't elsewhere. With everything she'd learned about The Viper, it seemed hard to believe he wouldn't have been crueler to his captive. Then again, he had apparently released Davis Campbell... released him beaten and sedated, but released him nevertheless when it would have been easier to kill him.
Nigel shook his head, seeming to know what the relic hunter was thinking. "I promise Syd... not a hand." He sighed. "The first couple of days I'm afraid he kept me drugged enough not to need to hit me." At this, Sydney covered his hand with hers, and he noticed a very dark emotion pass over Preston's face. "After that," he continued, "we were on the move and he needed me awake, but seeing as we were in the middle of the desert, it wouldn't have done me much good to try an escape." He shook his head. "We were traveling in a sort of caravan... and I'm afraid I became rather ill... I remember I passed out and woke up in an airplane." He furrowed his brow slightly. "The Viper had rented it to take us to Sid Ifni, but it was odd... he actually seemed rather worried about me."
Sydney frowned. "Worried about you?"
"I find that rather hard to believe." Preston muttered, having come to stand beside his brother.
"So did I." Nigel agreed. "But it wasn't the first time I sensed something like that... every once in a while I'd get these flashes of humanity from him." He glanced around, having a feeling what some of his audience might be thinking. "And no, it wasn't Stockholm Syndrome." Claudia flinched slightly at this, and Nigel continued. "But I do think he was a little concerned." He shook his head. "The plane he hired was forced to land here... some sort of mechanical problem I believe, but The Viper put off driving on to Sid Ifni because I had a bit of a relapse."
All Nigel's talk of being ill and having relapses caused Preston to promptly feel his forehead for a fever. Nigel tried to shy away, but was too slow. "Hold still," Preston chastised. "You're warm," he diagnosed, withdrawing his hand.
"I'm fine," Nigel protested, although he had to admit, it was rather weak protest. He'd lost the battle before he'd even started fighting.
Sydney's hand promptly took Preston's place on his forehead and she frowned. "He's right Nigel, you're warm." It felt as though he were running a low grade fever... nothing too serious, but nothing to take lightly.
"All right," Preston took charge. "We can ask questions later. You," he took Nigel by the arm and pulled him off the bed, ushering him toward the bathroom, "are you going to get in there and get washed up. Take as much time as you need, use all the bloody hot water in the building if you want to. While you're busy with that, I'll go back to my room and get you some clothes and some aspirin." He flashed his little brother a reassuring smile. "And don't worry about The Viper... he's probably long gone by now."
"Maybe so." Nigel agreed, but knowing the mercenary the way he did, he wouldn't bet on it.
End of Part Thirty-One
Go to Part Thirty Two.