Paper Tiger

By Ridley C. James, September 2007

Beta: Tidia

Disclaimer: Nothing Supernatural belongs to me sadly. If it did I’d leave things along.

A/N: This chapter won't have a lot of action but it is full of little hints and clues about the upcoming To the Victor Go the Spoils. Speaking of which, Tara has just happened to put together a little video all about that upcoming story! And she’s going to share it with you all. Considering I only gave her a brief description of what takes place, she did an incredible job.

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Chapter 11/11

On old Earth there were beautiful tigers who burned with life in the forests of the night. And then there were crazed old toothless tigers who preyed upon human beings. It is possible to completely affirm the world that brought forth tigers into life and still say no to an individual tiger about to devour your child --David Zindell

New York, June 2007

The ringing of Griffin Porter’s cell phone brought Mackland from his dark ruminations. An eternity of memories unfolded in mere seconds. He blinked as Griffin broke eye contact to answer the call.

Conversation between Porter and whoever was on the line was brief and clipped, but it gave Mackland a moment to collect his thoughts. He didn’t like being caught off guard, especially in his own home.

“I’m sorry about that. Some calls are too important not to take.”

“One of your dark conspirators?”

Griffin laughed. “Mackland, I never took you for the dramatic type. Scholars are cool-headed, analytical.” He smiled enigmatically. “I once told Julian that in the future, perhaps a robot or super-computer could actually take over that spot.”

Ames crossed his arms over his chest. “And here I thought you held aspirations for the position?”

“Naiveté of youth.” Porter flinched in irritation. “Although, some may say I have several aspects in common with a computer.”

“Like your lack of humanity?”

Griffin’s smile became wolfish. “I was thinking of my intelligence.”

“Computers are only as intelligent as the people who create them, Griffin.”

“And you believe my wiring is faulty.”

“That’s one way to put it. A very kind way.”

Griffin took a seat on the leather couch, making a production of settling in. “I’m surprised you still have room for kindness considering all that you are dealing with at the moment.”

Mackland moved to one of the overstuffed chairs across from the sofa, but hesitated in sitting down. Porter’s presence was unsettling. “Is this where you finally get around to explaining the real reason you’re here?”

“I think you know why I’m here.”

“I have theories. But seeing as you are a guest in my home, please go first.”

Griffin leaned forward, gesturing for Mackland to sit down. “I want to talk about Samuel Colt’s journal.”

Ames clenched his fists, fought hard to keep the logical Scholar side in control. He paced a couple of steps away. “So I take it you had something to do with what happened to Riley yesterday?”

“Riley?” Griffin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Isn't that Boone’s son’s name?”

Mackland turned to face the scientist, unable to keep the anger from his tone. Mackland felt responsible for the boy…he felt responsible for too many people these days. “Don’t play coy, Porter. You know damn well who he is. You’ve obviously kept tabs on him for some time now.”

“Ah, yes. The up and coming archeology student. He seems adequately intelligent although a little too excitable for my tastes. Sort of like a Cocker Spaniel.”

“He was attacked at Tufts University yesterday evening.”

“That’s too bad.” Griffin tilted his head thoughtfully. “But we both know that war is a dangerous game for a boy to be involved in.”

“For God’s sake, Griffin. Riley is not involved in The Brotherhood. He’s a kid. Boone stepped away from hunting to keep his son removed. He wants his family left out of the action.”

“Yet, he and his lovely concubine play host to hunters on a daily basis at The Boonedocks, plying them with their cheap swill and heart-attack cuisine.”

Mackland took a calming breath, returned to stand by the chair. “And you have been a frequent guest of the establishment too.” Griffin wasn’t the only one to keep tabs. Mackland’s ‘geek squad’ as Caleb was fond of calling them were excellent at providing updates on the whereabouts and activities of those involved in their line of work.

Griffin snorted. “It’s a little down home for my tastes, but Kathleen is a good cook; and a stimulating conversationalist.”

Mackland shook his head and eased himself into the leather seat. “In one breath you speak of them as friends and in the next you justify injuring their child.”

“I’m an expert at compartmentalizing.”

“You’re an authority on deception.”

Griffin sighed. “It was merely a bump on the head. If the boy is going to follow in the steps of his father and grandfather, he needs to toughen up.”

“Riley is not a hunter.” It was a bump on the head that had warranted a trip to the hospital. Despite the fact Riley found the whole experience ‘cool,’ Mackland preferred it not happen again.

“And you know that once it is in your blood, The Brotherhood is not something one can abandon. Jim should have explained that to Boone before allowing him to retire.”

“This isn't the army where you can reactivate a soldier." Mackland thought of his numerous conversations with John about the military. "Boone served his time. He still helps out, but he has a right to his own way of life. As does his family.”

“Once you’re in, you’re in for life.”

“This isn’t the mafia.” And now Mac thought of Jim and the preacher’s conversation with the boys. The Godfather had been too influential.

“No. We’re something much more. But we are built on the same principles.”

Ames felt his irritation building again. “Principles such as kidnapping, assault, strong-arm tactics and thievery?”

Griffin rolled his eyes. "It served as a lesson to the boy for involving himself in affairs that do not concern him. Although, I must say he is much cleverer than his father. I’m quite certain he was blessed with Kathleen’s intelligence.”

Mac sighed. “Riley recognized an important archeological find and you relieved him of it. I never took you for the antiquities type.”

Griffin smiled. “I admit that was more James’s area of expertise. But mysteries have always intrigued me. You know as well as I do that Samuel Colt’s journal is not chocked full of typical historical information as those boring academics hoped. It reads like any good hunter’s field manual would-including passages about the demise of his fellow Triad members.”

Mackland grimaced. So he had been right. Griffin and his faction in The Brotherhood had taken the journal-knew what it was. Griffin had come to the same conclusions as Mackland. Samuel Colt had not only been a member of The Brotherhood, but one of its past Scholars.

“Did you not write of how your Knight and Guardian perished?”

The baited inquiry tore Mackland from his grim musings. No answer was justified.

Griffin continued to stare at him. “Funny, that in history it is often The Scholar that survives these troublesome spots of evil uprisings. Just look at your predecessor-he retired to paradise for God’s sake, while his Guardian and Knight both perished before their times. Perhaps it is because they are often removed from the battle, caught in their own egos. Have you explained this to Samuel Winchester? Is he willing to take over if his Triad peers should fall? They say it’s hardest on those left behind.” Griffin’s eyes darkened. “Even as children they were close. I imagine the bond has strengthened with time.”

“As any traditional Triad should be.” Mackland leaned forward. “And Samuel understands his position quite well.” At least he would when Mackland got around to telling him about it. That would happen sooner than Ames had planned. Again, Fate was not giving the good doctor an inch.

“I like him.” Griffin nodded. “He’s very powerful. If Samuel Colt could make a gun that is capable of killing anything, I imagine his namesake will do even more wondrous things.”

Mackland snorted. “So, Sam has your stamp of approval? Because he’s powerful?”

“I have no issue with him. He would be a worthy match for Gideon and Ethan. Jim should have considered that.” Griffin took a sip of brandy. “The Scholar needs to have useful abilities.” He eyed Mackland. “Even yours are impressive to some degree.”

“Why am I not flattered?” Ames frowned. “And Gideon and Ethan, although outstanding members of The Brotherhood, despite your influence, are not in the running for The Triad.”

“Some people believe they should be.”

“Some people like yourself and Harland Sawyer?”

“There are others, too.” Griffin set his glass on the coffee table between the two men. “Even you have to admit that Jim considered them. Julian and Jim were close. Gideon is Julian’s grandson, the true Guardian heir.”

Mackland looked down at his ring. “Yes. I know he considered them.” Jim never held a grudge against Jarrett Mathews children, the twins, Ethan and Elijah. After the incident in North Carolina, Jim seemed to do everything in his power to make up for the twin's loss. That included allowing Griffin his masquerade of still being in The Brotherhood.

“He went so far to have you and John Winchester work with them-train with them.”

“He was fair.” Ames returned his gaze to Griffin. “But in the end he made his choice, and I will make sure that it is followed. Ethan, Gideon and Elijah are where they should be.”

“Understudies, you mean?” Porter growled. “Second-string to your boys? Gideon, Ethan and Elijah are ‘true’ hunters. Generations of their bloodline have proven that.”

“Bloodlines do not always come into play. You know that.”

Griffin frowned. “But Dean Winchester? Really?”

“You don’t know anything about Dean.”

“I know he’s an excellent hunter. But being The Guardian takes more than that.”

Mackland nodded. “Which explains why Jim was chosen over you.”

“Julian wasn’t infallible.” Griffin hid his anger well. He spoke in a calm, patient tone of voice. “He made a mistake when he made Jim Murphy The Guardian. And it has snowballed.”

Despite their civilized conversation, Mackland could feel a charge in the air. Their verbal volley was calculated, chess-like. “In your twisted mind maybe. In reality Jim Murphy had every quality of a Guardian and more.”

“I didn’t come here to argue about past Triads.”

Ames was growing tired of the game. “Then do tell me why the hell you are here, Griffin? I doubt you came to confess your felonious act against Riley. So please get it over with so I can experience the distinct pleasure of throwing you out of my home.”

“We both know what’s in that journal. I suspect Riley being the smart boy made copies of some of the more pertinent information and sent it to The Scholar as soon as he realized what he had found.”

Mackland merely raised a brow, unwilling to contribute one modicum of information to Porter. Riley had indeed realized what one of his professors had gained possession of through an endowment. Dr. Carlson, Riley's professor, had been given the opportunity to catalog a gift from a wealthy benefactor. The benefactor was a man who had a great interest in Old West relics. Somehow Samuel Colt’s personal writings had ended up in his collection. Carlson had discounted it as trivial memorabilia-the ramblings of an ‘old coot.’ Riley had known better. Riley had scanned the journal and sent it via e-mail, as Mac had read it one name stood out: Noah Seaver, Caleb's grandfather.

“It would appear that Samuel Colt was a member of a Triad that also faced a momentous time of change and uprising,” Porter continued. “During their era a great evil was woken, called forth by a sinister man of the cloth. A great evil which has harmed countless generations since then.”

Ames could tell Griffin was enjoying rubbing salt in open wounds. He knew the man couldn’t read him. Mackland’s barriers were too strong, but he was positive the bastard could sense his discomfort. Samuel Colt’s journal told of the incident with Noah Seaver. Mac and Jim told Caleb the story of Noah Seaver was rumor and conjecture, but now he would have to tell his son it was all true.

“The ambitious preacher used a talisman of great power to call forth more than he could handle. Opened a portal to hell in the process too.” Griffin raised a brow. “Is any of this sounding like déjà vu to you?”

“My patience is growing thin.” Mackland forced a trace of boredom into his tone. “I’m tired and I haven’t eaten or watched the Yankees.”

Griffin grew more animated, excited by the topic. “From what I can discern, Noah Seaver obtained that talisman from a hunter for a pretty price. The Brotherhood was thrown into sort of a flux after the murders of all those good God-fearing folks. Rumors of betrayal in their own midst-by a Triad member no less.”

Ames sighed heavily. “Samuel Colt denied that his Knight had anything to do with selling the article to Seaver. Nothing was ever proven.” But the damage had been done. Just as rumors of Caleb’s lineage and Sam’s involvement with the yellow-eyed demon in the present day tainted the prospective Triad.

“But even the whisper of such an indiscretion brought discourse and unease. Countless innocents died. Those women and children in Seaver’s church were just the beginning as you well know. Brother turned against brother. The Triad found themselves in quite a fit-a revolution.”

“Members of The Brotherhood took advantage of the chaos to make a bid for power, which did not belong to them.” Mackland ran a finger over his eyebrow. “Now that conjures a feeling of déjà vu.”

Griffin’s lips thinned. “Samuel Colt’s Triad clung tenaciously to their control by hiding away all weapons of power-including the talisman Seaver used. They put them away in a place only they knew about.” Griffin stroked his graying beard. He had it all figured out and was determined to drill his point home. “Then later after The Knight and Guardian were gone, Samuel did away with the hunter journals of that time to absolve himself and his friends of any wrongdoing.”

“That is not how the journal read, Griffin! Jim was right when he said you were very selective when it came to history.” Griffin had loosely told the tale of the beginnings of The Brotherhood to Caleb all those years ago, making his son doubt his place in the order of things. The origins of their organization was nowhere near as clear-cut as Griffin made it sound. The same would hold true for the incident between Samuel Colt’s Triad. It could not be the black and white history Griffin was painting it to be. The past was so malleable-prone to men’s perceptions and susceptible to their desires to appear just. Mass genocide could easily be twisted to look like heroic progress.

Mackland was just as resolute in making his own argument “The Knight and Guardian didn’t just disappear…they were murdered-betrayed by one of their own. Samuel Colt did what he had to do to restore balance, to protect the innocent from the evil that had been unleashed.”

“Yes,” Griffin agreed. “Colt took initiative. I’ll give him that. The hunt for the escaped demons reunited The Brotherhood, gave them a purpose. They believed it to be the Apocalypse. In their fervor, they managed to send most of the escaped demons back to hell, excluding our yellow-eyed monster it seems. Then Samuel, proving to be the genius Scholar he was, found a way to insure they would never be released again with that noteworthy railroad construction. He then made the infamous Colt to track down the yellow-eyed bastard who had escaped.” Griffin leaned against the couch. “He was a busy man in between getting patents for his inventions and working for the government in all manners of warfare.”

Mackland nodded. That much of the story they could agree on. “But he died before he could fulfill the mission.” He pinned Griffin with a hard gaze. “A deed Dean Winchester succeeded in.”

“So I hear.” Griffin inclined his head. “But there are also two-hundred or so new threats among us.”

“We’re working on that.”

“It may not be the worst of our problems.”

Ames laughed. “There is something worse than an army of darkness so great it could destroy the world?”

“They are not much of an army without a leader. Just scattered chaos.”

“We’ve already cleared up the fact that their leader is dead.” Mackland prayed that Griffin wasn’t referring to the yellow-eyed demon’s plans to have one of the ‘children’ lead his minions. They didn’t need anyone finding out about Sam’s theorized part in that. Ames hardened his voice. “Dean finished what Samuel Colt had started. There will be no leader unless they nominate a new general of their own.”

“Yes, but Caleb’s grandfather may have provided a loophole that no one has considered.”

Mackland frowned. The shift was unexpected. “What are you rambling about?”

“The talisman, Mackland. It once brought the yellow-eyed demon from whatever depths he existed in before being earthbound, who is to say it can’t return him once more.”

“That’s a ridiculous theory and even if it wasn’t, the talisman is hidden away.”

“Perhaps not for long.”

Ames was beginning to understand why Griffin had come. “Don’t tell me you are once more trying to find the store of weapons?”

“I never stopped trying to find them. It has been nearly a two-decade long crusade. One that has not come with out its victories.” Griffin’s dark eyes glinted. “I am in possession of two more very unique journals. Journals belonging to Daniel Tanner and Cole Wilmington.”

“The Guardian and Knight of Samuel Colt’s Triad.” Mackland shook his head. Leave it to Porter. After reading Samuel Colt’s journal, Ames had wondered about the other members of The Triad. It was an amazing find. “I’m sure I don’t want to even know how you pulled that off.”

“It wasn’t easy. You’re not the only one who likes to associate with very powerful witches, Mackland. Some have amazing gifts of sight.”

Ames shifted in his chair. “The covens swear no allegiance.”

Griffin’s mouth twitched. “Doesn’t stop the few free agents from jumping into one bed or another though, does it?”

Mackland’s gray eyes darkened and his fingers dug into the soft leather of the chair. “So now you have a complete set? You still haven’t divulged your true purpose in being here.”

“As I’ve said, I believe the weapons are in danger of being found.”

“By someone other than you?”

“I have the vital information now. It took parts from all three journals to put it together. That Triad was quite clever. But of course I figured it out. Unfortunately so did someone else.”

“Like whom?”

“Ian.” Griffin shrugged. “It would seem he’s not quite the mindless lapdog I had believed him.”

“He’s turned on you?” That wasn’t good news. Ian had never been a stellar hunter and by far not one of Mackland’s favorite members of The Brotherhood, but having him as a free agent could prove to be worse. For one, Ian had other inside sources than merely the ones Griffin provided. He dated Carolyn, who was smart as they came, but at times very naïve. “Are you sure?”

“Or he’s been compromised.” Griffin raised a brow. “Seduced by the darkside.”

“Meaning?”

“I believe he’s working with demonic forces. One demon in particular.”

The situation was growing grimmer. “What demon?”

“I believe you knew her as Meg.”

It was what Mackland feared. “The demon that possessed Sam?”

“One in the same.”

“Was Ian working for you when he came up with that little plan? Someone hired those renegade hunters to take out my son while Sam was taken.”

“No.” Griffin was adamant. “I have never worked with demons. When I found out about that and what happened to Steve Wyndell, my tolerance of Ian’s willfulness was terminated.”

“But you’d already given him what he needed to do you in?”

“To do us in,” Griffin corrected. “We’re in this together. Not only is Noah Seaver’s great shame supposedly with the store of weapons; but also an object capable of bringing The Brotherhood to an end.”

“And you think the demon knows about these weapons?”

“I think that she devil wants to bring her daddy back. While the prospect of her possessing the talisman is beyond troubling, I’m more worried about whom or what might get their hands on the object of our doom.”

“Now who’s being melodramatic?”

“I’m not exaggerating. If the stories are true, the source of the silver and the magic it contains could be wiped out.”

“You don’t even know what the source of the silver is. None of us do.”

“That’s not entirely true.” Griffin gestured to a picture on the mantel.

“Dean?” Mackland tensed. “You believe Dean knows.”

“I’m not entirely convinced of that. But it seems I have no other choice but to go along with James’s decision. Even in death the old bastard is getting the last laugh.”

“What the hell are you proposing, Griffin?”

“A joint venture. One that will benefit The Brotherhood and the innocent fools that walk this earth without a clue as to what is truly going on around them.”

“Why include us?” Ames demanded. “If you have all three journals, the information you need to find the location of the weapons, and the man power to pull it off, then why risk bringing us in?”

Griffin leaned forward, held Mackland’s demanding gray gaze. “Because only The Guardian can open the goddamn door.”

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