Luka sat motionless in the chair, staring at Karel. He hadn't seen him since the night of the raid; Karel had been busy filling a sack with anything of value that he found in the farmhouse, adding robbery to murder. But Luka knew Karel well- it had been Karel who first suggested retaliation, revenge, even before the bodies had been found. Luka and the others hadn't listened at first; they still hoped to find their loved ones- certainly whoever had taken them wouldn't kill women and children; certainly they'd only been moved to someplace far away. It would only be a matter of time before they would find them and bring them back...

But then the U.N. had found the pit, found the bodies. Luka had been there to watch as they emptied the grave, the children first, then their mothers, limp, disfigured, almost unrecognizable after laying in the shallow grave in the summer heat. Then the anger had washed over Luka, washed over them all then they listened to Karel's words, letting him poison their hearts. Karel had been the one to call Radic, to order the guns, the grenades, he was the one to lead them to the farmhouse, to the men he said were guilty. Even though his family had been spared, Karel had taken it on himself to lead the raid, to assure vengeance, he said, for the good of Croatia.

Karel sat, grinning evilly at Luka.

"What's wrong, Janko?" He asked, "You look like you've seen a ghost." Luka glanced around the room, but no one was paying any attention to them. Luka was glad Karel was using Croatian; as long as he kept his composure, no one need know what the two of them were discussing.

"My name is Luka Kovac," he said steadily. "Janko Pavic doesn't exist any more."

"Ok, Luka," Karel answered, his voice dripping venom. He smiled at Luka. "We missed you at the celebration."

"Murder is nothing to celebrate," Luka replied flatly.

"But vengeance is, " Karel answered. "I'm surprised at you, Janko. I thought you'd be happy to see someone from the old town, but you seem- upset. What's the matter- doesn't anyone here know what a good Croat you are?" Luka just glared at him.

"What do you want, Karel?"

"Radic told me he found you alive. I had to see for myself- I thought you died long ago." Luka kept his gaze steady, not trusting the other man. "You know you're the only one left- all the others are gone." Luka was shocked- he hadn't known that, had had no contact with anyone in almost five years. Karel read the look on his face.

"Yeah- evidently we didn't kill everyone we needed to kill that night. Or maybe we even got the wrong people." Karel's words were unnerving, something about him made Luka's skin crawl. "You know, two nights after the farmhouse, someone killed Ivo and Marco and the others while they slept- very professional. So perhaps you were smart to leave when you did. Or maybe you hadn't left after all." Luka felt his anger rising; it was hard enough to believe what he'd just been told, but what Karel was implying made his blood boil. Luka knew he couldn't continue talking to him here or he'd loose control; he checked the clock.

"I can't talk now," he told Karel evenly, struggling to maintain control. "But I get off in an hour. Then you can tell me the real reason why you came here." "What ever you want, Janko- I can wait." Karel settled back in his chair, pulling his hat over his eyes again. Luka hesitated a moment, then went to the admit desk, all the while keeping an eye on Karel. He didn't trust the man, never should have- Karel had always been a shady character, cheating on school tests, stealing fruit and God knew what else from the farms, never anything too serious, but never quite on the up-and-up, either. After June '91, Karel had become a super-nationalist, claiming precedence because he was "such a good Croat". Why he had ever listened to this man, Luka couldn't say- his anger had blinded him to Karel's faults.

"So what's up with that guy?" Amira asked in her usual pissy tone. Luka just shrugged.

"I asked if he needed help, but he said he was just trying to get out of the storm for a while. I'm sure he'll leave soon." Like in an hour, Luka thought. Luka stayed at the desk, doing paperwork, contemplating what Karel had told him. Had they really attacked the wrong house? Had the man he killed been just an innocent victim? Karel had assured them that this was the right house, that the men who had slaughtered their families where all inside- yet now he said he was wrong, that the real killers had come back to kill again, to kill Luka's friends. Yet still Karel was unscathed... Luka kept checking to see if the man was still there, but Karel never moved; he stayed in his chair, hat pulled down, watching Luka with his dark, evil eyes.

It was almost eight o'clock, almost time to leave, and Luka found himself wishing for a trauma to come in, anything to keep him away from Karel. The storm was abating, but still no one was coming in to the ER. Luka did a final set of rounds with Mark, since Greene was on until nine.

"Why don't you head on out?" Mark offered.

"But it's only quarter of," Luka protested.

"So? We're dead," Mark insisted. "You deserve to get out early once in a while." Any other night, Luka thought, any other night. But tonight his past was waiting for him... It was almost as if Mark was working in tandem with Karel, torturing him. Luka went to the lounge and got his coat; he buttoned it slowly, trying to figure out what he was going to do. It depended on Karel, really. Does he plan to blackmail me? Luka wondered. Or was there something else up his sleeve? Luka was glad he didn't have his car; he'd left it home due to the storm. He didn't want that man near anything of his, didn't want to deal with his slime. Luka took a deep breath and headed out. Karel was standing by the exit; he caught Luka's eye and ducked out the door. Luka stopped by the desk one last time, loathing to leave, but finally he went out. Karel was waiting for him at the end of the ambulance bay.

"I thought maybe you'd run away on me again," Karel said disparagingly. Luka said nothing; he just turned down the street, heading for the el. Karel followed him, unhurriedly.

"What's the matter, Janko?" Karel mocked, "Are you afraid of me?" Luka turned and faced Karel.

"I'm not afraid of you," Luka answered angrily. "I'm just trying to figure out why the hell you came here." Karel just sneered at him. The snow had stopped finally, but it was bitterly cold. The only sign of life was a single snowplow; everyone else had stayed inside, it seemed, away from the cold and dark.

"There are things you need to know, Janko." Karel told him. Luka knew that he kept calling him by his old name just to try and provoke him, but Luka refused to rise to the bait. Instead, he shook his head dismissively and headed up the stairs towards the el, hoping that the trains were still running. Karel followed patiently; Luka knew he wouldn't get rid of him until the man had had his say, but he wanted to get Karel as far away from County General as he could.

"Where are we running to this time, Dr. Pavic? Some place nice and safe, huh?" Luka continued to ignore Karel's baiting; he was glad to see a train coming. It would be so easy to push Karel in front of it, to stop his tormenting by having him crushed beneath the wheels, but the driver would surely see him, so Luka restrained himself. Instead, he stood apart form Karel; they got onto the train through different doors as if they weren't together. The car was empty, and Karel came over to stand next to Luka.

"So- Luka, is it?" Karel sneered, "Do you want to know what happened after you left?" All Luka wanted to do was smash Karel's face, but he feigned indifference instead.

"You already told me," Luka answered coldly.

"Not really, my friend," Karel continued, oozing slime. "You see, I really thought we had the right men, you know, the ones who took the women and children. I had good sources- at least I thought they were good sources." Luka continued to stare straight ahead, wondering why Karel was telling him this, wondering what the man wanted.

"Anyway, I knew you and the others needed revenge, needed to do something to the men who had killed defenseless children while their mothers were forced to watch."

All the pieces suddenly came together for Luka; he felt his heart stop, as if pierced by an icy knife. Now he knew what Karel had done, and the anger welled in him.

"How the women wailed!" Karel was saying.

"How do you know?" Luka asked flatly.

"What?" Karel was taken aback by the question. The train had reached Luka's stop, he stepped on to the deserted platform deliberately, and Karel followed him. Luka waited until the train was gone; visions of Viktor and Maja lying on the top of the pile, on top of the mothers with the other children, bloated, chewed on by rats made fat from the vile feast... He forced the memory of the pit back into its box. Luka turned to face Karel, the anger churning within him.

"I asked you how you knew the children died first."

"The U.N. said..." Karel started, but Luka cut him off.

"The U.N. said that the women had died first based on their position in the pit." Karel tried to explain himself.

"No-no, I'm sure they said the children died first. It was how we- they always did things, making them suffer before killing them..." Luka let Karel twist in his lies.

"You know, Karel, somehow your wife and child were spared. Why was that, Karel? And why weren't you killed when they came back and killed Ivo and the others, huh?" Luka was looming over Karel; his presence forcing the smaller man back towards the wall. "It seems that everyone was being killed except your family, Karel- why is that?" Luka brought his face close to Karel's, lowering his voice to an ominous whisper.

"Yet you were the first one to call for revenge, Karel. You were the one who figured out who had done it, long before we even knew they'd been killed. You were already picking targets- why was that, huh? Picking the richest men? The ones who had the most to steal? Was that it, Karel?" He had Karel pressed against the wall; Luka was letting his anger control him, but he didn't care.

"It was all your idea, wasn't it, Karel? Just kill everyone- blame it on the Serbs, on the Croats, on the Muslims- whoever was convenient. Then you'd go in and take all the spoils? All for a few dollars, all for some sort of profit?" Karel's gaze remained steady, but sweat was forming on his forehead despite the cold. Luka smiled maliciously.

"Now look who's afraid." Luka said cruelly.

"So you think you've figured me out, huh Janko?" Karel had regained his composure, the sneer returned to his face.

"You're right about the families, of course. I was the one who planned that. Who do you think was responsible for the hospital party? Me, naturally. Kept all you men away while we took your families. It was so easy to make it look like a partisan raid, so easy to make you all believe." Luka moved to grab Karel by the neck, but the smaller man ducked away.

"Uh, uh, uh, Janko- do you really want to murder again? Although after you've killed once, it does get easier, doesn't it?" Luka glared at him, breathing hard, clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to control his anger, to channel it. Karel was moving away, but Luka wouldn't let him escape; he stayed between Karel and the stairs. But Karel continued to mock him, to torture him.

"You know," Karel said matter-of-factly, "The kids were easy to kill- didn't even waste bullets on most of them, just hit them with the gun butts." Luka realized that Karel was trying to get him so angry that he could be caught off-guard, and Luka fought to control his fury.

"Now the women- we didn't shoot them until we were done with them, if you know what I mean. It wouldn't have been fair to have them die without making love one more time." Karel laughed sadistically- it was clear he was enjoying this, enjoying Luka's pain as he had enjoyed killing the families.

"You bastard!" Luka roared, going after Karel again. ""Why are you telling me this?"

"I thought you'd like to know the truth before you died," Karel answered calmly. Luka saw the glint of a gun in Karel's hand; instinctively he dove for the ground. But it was too late; he felt pain searing his left side as the bullet tore through him. The pain only served to make Luka angrier; he was like an injured animal, desperately fighting for his life. He heard two more shots, but felt nothing; he wasn't sure if he'd been hit again or not, he just had to get to Karel. He rolled against Karel's legs, knocking him down. Luka struggled to get to his feet; the pain burned into his brain from his injured side, but he knew he had to get up, had to get the gun, or he'd never get off this platform alive.

"You have a lot of fight in you, Janko," Karel was saying, "Just like your Emma. I liked it when she fought me- it made it more exciting." Karel seemed to enjoy mocking him, but the anger was making Luka stronger, making him forget the pain for now. He had made it to his feet; he could see that Karel didn't have the gun any more. He stood facing his enemy, feeling the blood running down his side. Karel just smiled repugnantly.

"How does it feel to be dying, Janko?" Luka said nothing; he had to use all his strength to stay standing. He followed Karel's eyes to where the gun lay in the snow; they both moved for the weapon, colliding near the edge of the platform. Luka managed to grab the gun and turn it towards Karel; he didn't hesitate to pull the trigger. Karel staggered back, almost surprised to find blood spurting from his chest.

"I didn't think you had it in you, Janko." Karel gasped. Luka tried to fire again, but the gun was out of bullets or jammed, he couldn't tell which. Karel had collapsed onto his knees; the volume of blood told Luka that another shot wouldn't be necessary, anyway.

"See you in Hell," Karel called weakly before falling face first into the snow. Luka shook his head, no quite believing what had happened. The pain was radiating from his side and he was feeling lightheaded. He dropped the gun and felt his side; his hand came out covered in blood and he made himself sit down. He was surrounded by red snow; the blood was threatening to swallow him again. He knew that if help didn't get here soon, he would be dead, just as dead as Karel. He felt no guilt at killing this time; Karel didn't deserve to live but he prayed silently for forgiveness anyway, hoping God would understand. Luka wasn't afraid of dying, he felt strangely at peace- at least he'd get to see Emma again, see Maja and Viktor again.

He tried to press against his wound to stop the blood, but he had no strength; he was slipping into shock, everything was turning black. Vaguely he was aware of a train pulling into the station; he could hear a woman's scream somewhere far away, thought he felt someone's hands turning him over, but then everything was just black....

To be continued

Please note: "Belial" is a satanic personification of wickedness alluded to in the New Testament.

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