Disclaimer: *Sniff* This is it. The very last part to Black Pawn, White Pawn.

I don't own LXG, Tom Sawyer, Allan Quatermain, Mina Hawker, Skinner, Captain Nemo, Dorian Gray, Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde, M or anything else used in the fic. Huckleberry Finn is again used in this chapter, also there are a few mentions about 'The Picture of Dorian Gray', By Oscar Wilde.

Merry Christmas!

Clez:- Okay, so I'm a day or so later than I said I would be. Glad you liked the last part, I hope this one doesn't disappoint.

Fayra:- Ask and thy shall receive. Included in this part is a scene between Tom and Allen and also the story about what Tom was seeing in the last part.

Beguile:- Thanks so much! I loved writing it.

Nikki:- Read on and find out...

Capt.Cow:- If you like this one, try my other long LXG fic, 'The Bodyguard.' Yes, that was me and my shameless advertising. Hope this part is long enough for you.

Roz:- Darn. I can't seem to get that brake=break thing worked out.

RogueCajun:- Ah, stop it, you say the nicest things.

LotRseer3350:- Sorry. I do have other LXG fics though... Hope this finale is grand enough for you.

Angel32:- I know, I couldn't believe I was down to the last part already. And, of course, poor Allen.

Tonianne:- Is this soon enough?

Black Pawn, White Pawn.


Part 7:- Moriarty's End.


'I, Allan Quatrain, of Durban, Natal, Gentleman, make oath and say-- That's how I headed my deposition before the magistrate about poor Khiva's and Ventvogel's sad deaths; but somehow it doesn't seem quite the right way to begin a book. And, besides, am I a gentleman? What is a gentleman?'

~King Solomon's Mines. Chapter 1.
~ By H. Rider Haggard

Huckleberry Finn stood by the hospital bed, his face a few inches away Tom Sawyer's face.

"What the hell were you thinking!" Huck yelled, glaring at Tom. "No, wait, my fault, you don't think do you." His angry eyes burned into Tom's ashamed ones. Tom looked away, fingering his empty holsters, as guns were not allowed in hospitals.

"You could have killed her!" Roared Huck, raising his fist to make real his anger and to threaten his friend. Tom numbly shook his head.

"No..." he whispered, his gaze straying to the bed where Becky Thatcher lay, asleep. Her face was white and her arm banged, a stark reminder of what had happened to her. The Fantom had come after the two American Agents and because of Tom's lack of speed Becky had been hit in the arm by a bullet intended for Tom. She shouldn't have been there in the first place. The only reason she had been there was that Tom had asked her to come out to dinner with them.

Becky had been standing there, all ready for the meal with her two favorite males... then the bullet had happened.

"Yes." Snapped Huck. "Just... just get out before she wakes up." Tom let tears fall from his eyes but didn't say anything. As if in a daze he turned and walked out of the room. A little way down the corridor he stopped and slid down the wall, his eyes blank and unseeing.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." he said to the empty hall.


Tom woke with a scream tearing itself from him. He gasped, tears running down his face. Inwardly Tom cursed his lack of control over his tears. That was the second time he had relived that memories. The two agents had made up a day or two later but Tom was still haunted by the fact that one of his last days with his best friend had been due to an augment. And then there was Becky.

She hadn't wanted Tom to go chasing off after the Fantom and maybe she had been right. Tom could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into depression and there seemed nothing he could do to stop that.

"Sawyer? You awake Lad?" Allen whispered, not wanting to wake the rest of the League. In truth, it seemed un-likely that he could, as none of them had woken up at Tom Sawyer's scream, weak as it had been.

"Q-Quartermain?" Tom said in disbelief. Had the whole thing with M been simply a dream? As if to mock that wonderful thought, Tom could feel the dull pain from his rib lurking just below the surface. Tom closed his eyes, blinking back tears and turned his head from Allen Quartermain, not waiting to see the pity that had to be on Allen's face. He didn't think he could bear it - couldn't bear the thought of anyone seeing him like this, a broken form of what he used to be.

"What has he done to you lad..." Allen said, reaching out to stroke Tom's hair. Even though he was facing away from the hand, Tom seemed to sense it and flinched slightly as the hand came closer. Quartermain froze, then slowly, deliberately, continued to move his hand closer.

Tom stiffened but didn't say anything. The hand came closer and closer...

"Don't." Tom said suddenly, his eyes still closed. Allen placed his hand on Tom's head.

"Easy lad." Allen said softly.

"Did you get him?" Tom asked. There was no need to say who Tom was talking about, Allen Quartermain knew only too well.

"The hunt begins in the morning." Allen Quartermain said, moving back to the fire, leaving Tom in peace in his corner. When Allen had placed his hand on Tom's head he had been relived to find out that the young man's temperature had gone down.

"I'm coming as well." Tom said from his little cocoon of blankets. Allen shook his head and turned his face back to the fire, the light reflecting in his eyes. Tom pushed himself upwards.

"I have to come, I have to do this." Tom said. Allen didn't turn his head from the fire.

"You are staying in this cave, until this battle is over."

"Bu-" Tom started.

"We're not going to risk loosing you again, boy. Now get some sleep."


It was snowing lightly in the morning. Tom stood by the cave entrance, scowling. His temperature had returned to normal and apart from a mass of bruises and a rib that hadn't fully healed, Tom was physically back to normal. Even so none of the League had sided with him and let him come back to the base with them. They moved down the hill, so far away that they looked like little black dots.

"Mr. Sawyer, you must come back inside and rest." The sailor said, coming to stand next to Tom. The Agent nodded and moved back inside. The League had left Tom in the hands of a minder, to keep an eye on him.

Tom Sawyer sat down in his blankets and carefully slipped his pistols under his coat. He lay down in the blankets and tried to sleep. His minder watched him with one eye. After a while it became apparent that Tom was having difficulty breathing. He began to thrash around in the blankets, his mouth open in a vain attempt to get enough oxygen in.

"Mr. Sawyer!" The sailor said in a panic. He dithered about the cave, unsure what to do until a thought hit him. Tom Sawyer needed a doctor, but Dr. Jekyll was at the base. There was, however, still Dr. Boca, on board the Nautilus. At that moment the thrashing slowed and Tom simply lay there, breathing more easily now.

Even so, the sailor couldn't take any chances.

"I will return soon Mr. Sawyer." he promised him before running out into the snow. For a minute there was no sound except for Tom's labored breathing. Then Tom jumped up, grabbing his pistols and heading for the exit. He had nearly reached the snow outside when a flash of metal caught his eye. He stopped and bent down, unwrapping a package. There lay his own rifle. Tom quickly opened it, checking the bullets before snapping it shut and running out of the cave into the snow.


Inside the base, Allen Quartermain had run into trouble. The trouble being one of M's soldiers, armed with a gun that was pointed right at Allen's chest. There was a sudden, loud shot which took Allen by surprise. There appeared to be a frozen look of smugness on the soldiers face. As Allen stood there, expecting to feel the pain that came with being shot the other man topped forward.

Standing behind him was Tom Sawyer, his rifle raised.

"Eyes open boy..." Tom said with a grin. "Can't protect you all the time." Allen was not amused.

"Go back to the cave and wait." he snapped.

"No." Tom said with a shrug. "You can't stop me." he added. Allen ran his hand over his face and sighed, before continuing down the corridor, Tom running beside him.

"Skinner said take a left at the pillar" Allen shouted at the two ran. Tom looked at the dozens of pillars they were passing.

"Oh great! Which one?"


Dorian entered his room, a vague smile on his face. He had left to talk to M and was now feeling much better. He picked up his hat and brushed it lightly. There was a sound behind him and he turned, still slightly sluggish after his encounter with Tom Sawyer.

There stood Mina, dressed in her fighting clothes, a snarl on her face.

"Hello Lover." She said.


Allen Quartermain and Tom Sawyer ran though the halls after M, each intent on their pray. Which was why Tom didn't hear the invisible man until they crashed into each other. He bit back a gasp of pain as his rib was jolted.

"Skinner?" Tom said in disbelief. He looked up the corridor to where Allen stood. "It's okay, it's Skinner." He fought to remove his jacket as Allen continued up the corridor after M.

"What are you doing here?" Tom asked.

"What makes you think I'm Skinner? My name is Sanderson Reed." The invisible man said before launching into an attack on Sawyer. Tom jumped out of the way of the knife that gleamed, forcing his injured body to respond to his every move.

A few rooms down, Dorian and Mina were still fighting. The two immortals slashed at each other, their wounds healing as soon as they had been made.

It might have been the drugs or simply the wish to end this fight. What ever it was, some inner force urged Dorian to stab Mina through the chest. He watched as her eyes widened, as she stared at him in disbelief and betrayal. Then she fell backwards, onto the bed.

Dorian pulled his sword from her body, wiping it clean on the bedspread. He was so intent on this that he didn't see Mina sit up, the wound healing. The first thing he was aware of was the sword being ripped out of his grasp and inserted into his own chest. Mina pushed him towards the wall, unknowing of the feeling of De'ja vu Gray was currently feeling.

"You're painting." Mina said stepping towards the canvas. Dorian didn't even have time to close his eyes before the wrapping was pulled off.

What lay under it was indeed a picture of Dorian Gray - but not a Dorian anyone would know to be the man himself. Dorian began to scream as he stared at the painting, his skin flecking off. All of a sudden he wasn't in that room anymore, staring at what once had been a perfect picture of a perfect beauty.

He was sitting in a long forgotten studio, laughing as a man - Basil he was called - tried to paint him. Dorian smiled as Basil frowned, vexed for some reason.

A bubbling feeling welled up inside of him, a long forgotten feeling - the feeling of innocence. Then the past faded and he was back in the room with Mina.

Then he was simply gone.


"He's too far!" Sawyer exclaimed in anger, watching the retreating form of Moriarty. Allan weakly shook his head.

"No, you'll ready boy. You can do it. Just don't let your anger guide you, otherwise it will betray you." Tom nodded and lifted the gun, feeling the shape of it in his arms. He curled his finger around the trigger.

"Take your time, you have all the time in the world." Allan said from behind him. He held the gun steady, despite the bruises on his hands and arms. He tried to ignore them and the rage that was bubbling in his mind at the thought of the monster who had taken pleasure in hurting him. He focused instead on the words Allen had told him.

//Nearly... nearly... nearly... now!\\ he thought. His finger responded to his brain and it squeezed the trigger.

The bullet flew though the air, steady and hit it's target. But not it's intended target. Due to his injuries Tom's aim had been off. The bullet embedded itself in Moriarty's leg, making him fall to the ground in pain, the box he was holding flying out of his hands and into the icy water. Tom spun round to face Allen.

"I hit him!" he said proudly, then stopped.

"Make this century yours boy... As I made this last one mine." With those words, Allan Quartermain, the greatest explorer in the word, slowly stopped breathing, the stab he had taken to save Tom proving fatal. Tom bowed his head, snow softly falling on him. Then he raised his head again, the fire of revenge burning in him.

Huckleberry had died because of Moriarty...

Allen had died because of Moriarty...

It was now up to Tom to make sure that no-one else died because of Moriarty. He routed through the junk in the room, searching for something, anything he could use as a rope to go after M. He knew that every second meant that M had a better chance of escaping, something Tom could not allow.

Tom gave a cry of joy as he found a rope, tying the end of it into a loop and wrapping the loop around a jutting stone. Then Tom swung the rope out into the snow before following it, carefully climbing down.

Moriarty scrambled in the snow, his fingers sliding over it, unable to get any grip. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two boots moved towards him, crunching the snow underfoot. The boots stopped by his face and Moriarty looked upwards - right into the grim face of Agent Tom Sawyer.

"Shoot me then." Moriarty rasped. Tom raised his rifle and took aim, shaking slightly. For a while the two stared at each other, each waiting for the other man to make the first move. Moriarty suppressed a smile. Maybe this would work to his advantage after all. All he had to do was throw Sawyer off balance enough to take the gun. Then Moriarty could escape the League and maybe, just maybe if he was feeling kind he would spare the worthless life of the American. Then again, maybe not.

"What are you waiting for? It's what I would do in your place." Moriarty said. Tom spun his rifle around and used the butt end to swing it like a baseball bat, hitting Moriarty under the chin and sending him flying.

"That's the difference between you and me. I am not an animal." Tom said coldly.

Back at the base Mina charged into the room where Allen's body lay. She skidded to a halt then approached the still body, an expression of sorrow on her face.

Something compelled her to turn to the crack in the wall and look out into the snow.

Tom turned away from Moriarty, as if the very sight of the man disgusted him.

"You will stand trial for everything you have done. May you rot in jail." Tom said. Moriarty snarled and finally managed to push himself upright.

"Tom!" Mina yelled, running towards the two, her bats converging around her. "Behind you!" Tom back spun round to face Moriarty. It was that which saved him as Moriarty let out a scream and tried to stab at him with a knife from his pocket.

The two fought in the snow, the knife held high in the air. With a yell Tom kicked Moriarty, hard, in the chest. The force sent Moriarty backwards, until he was only a step away from the icy water. For a instant Moriarty tittered on the edge, then regained his balance. He sent Tom a cold smile before slowly stepping forward.

The ice under his foot made a low groaning noise. Tom's eyes widened in shock as the ice simply gave way, right under Moriarty's feet. With a scream, the Professor fell into the water, his hands still clutching towards Tom. Then the hands slowly sank.

Mina reached the American and silently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He died saving me." Tom said dully. There was no need to say who 'he' was, Mina had seen the body.

"Is Skinner okay?" Tom asked.

"Dr. Jekyll has him on board the Nautilus. I have no doubt that he will recover from the burns." Mina said. Tom shrugged and turned away from the pond like water Moriarty had fallen into.

Suddenly the waters parted and Moriarty erupted from the icy, his mouth open in a scream, his fingers curled into talons. His eyes were wide and staring... and also, Tom noticed completely blank.

He had been frozen solid, still in his death throws. As the female Vampire and the male Agent watched, the crime lord slowly sunk under the waters, the quiet liquid closing over his body.

And there Moriarty will lie - until the waters recede and there is only a skeleton left with no tangible clue as to his identity.



Tom Sawyer left the grave, the African sun shining down on the back of his neck. He started to jog and soon caught up with Mina Hawker. For a short time the two simply walked along, the scorching sun still shining, clouds gathering behind it.

"So this is how the story ends." Tom said dully. "The first adventure of the League and it ends in death."

"It shouldn't end in death. It doesn't." Mina said primly, stopping her walk. Tom stopped too and stared at her though his long hair, his clear blue orbs asking a question.

"What does it end in then?" he answered. Mina hesitated and looked back at the grave of Allen Quartermain, noting the clouds over it. It seemed as if Africa itself was in mourning. Then she looked back at Tom.

"In Hope." She said simply, then walked on. Tom watched her go, then he too turned back to look at the grave.

"In Hope?" he said, a lopsided grin spreading to his face. "I think I can manage that."

~The End.~

There you have it, the very last part, all done and dusted. Now, please, have a very, very Merry Christmas and if you are reading this after the 25th, then just have a very good day.

Please, please leave a review.