The door was violently jerked open, releasing the sound of a plate
meeting its maker into the corridor. Richie Ryan's face was as black
as thunder with fury as he made a swift exit from his apartment. He
slammed the portal after him in time to cut off the end of an
incoherent female yell.
"Fine, have it your way!" he growled, well aware that his house guest
couldn't hear him.
Yet, the young man paused, his hand still on the door handle, his
expression dwindling from anger into resignation. He almost turned
back to his home, but then the wooden barrier shook and he recognised
the sound of his basketball bouncing off it. That was it, he'd had
enough for one fight, and his face clouded once more. His stride
lengthened by muted rage, the young Immortal fled the building.
The sun shone down on the building's main entrance, but the figure
which charged out of the structure seemed oblivious to the pleasant
morning around him. The young man strode away at speed, equally
oblivious to the prying eyes upon him. The observer's cherry-red
lips curled into a less than pleasant smile. The prey was almost in
her grasp, and soon she would be ready to pounce. It had been a long
time since their last meeting, but Richard Ryan's reputation as The
Highlander's pupil had reached her eventually; the curly-haired pup
had become a lean fighter in the gap of years, and Felicia Martins
had to admit she was impressed. Yet, she had changed too, she was a
little wiser about Duncan MacLeod and caution on returning to this
city had changed her appearance. The red hair did not suit as well
as the black, but it would do for now; show would never underestimate
the Highlander or his protege again. This time her scheming was to
be done at a distance, learning the pattern of daily his life,
finding the weakness in his addiction to routine. The time was ripe
to spring a trap.