Ransom 4

Echoes in Eternity
 
Ransom - Part Four - Causatum
 
by
 
Reagan Kavanagh
 
This work of adult fiction, loosely based on characters portrayed by Russell Crowe, includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned.  No copyright infringement on the original work is intended.  © Reagan Kavanagh 2006.

Author’s Note:  As always, thanks to Diana for her tireless proofreading efforts.  Reagan

 
 
Parkland Hospital Trauma Centre, Dallas, Texas 
 
TERRY
Max and I rode in the ambulance with Reags to hospital, followed by Ted and Detective Sergeant Garza in their respective cars.  With luck, by the time they arrived at the trauma centre, Ted would have let the Sergeant know that this ‘incident’ was under federal jurisdiction.  They’d have ample time to talk before leaving the scene.   Reags had been kidnapped, and that is a federal offence.  Whilst the assistance of local law enforcement would be appreciated in securing the area surrounding the crime scene, the FBI would be calling the shots and supervising the evidence collection.  Even had kidnapping not been a federal offence, Reags was – technically - functioning as a federal officer, thus it would still be considered federal jurisdiction.  On arrival at hospital, Max was allowed to go into the trauma room with Reags; I stayed in reception waiting for Ted and Garza.  I also called Dino.
 
“She’s safe, more or less …and Max is here.”
 
“What?  MAX?  Where the fuck did he come from?  Qualify more or less.”
 
“At present, I’ve no more idea than you …nor does Reags, if the look on her face when she saw him is any indication.  She has a knife wound but will survive, assuming I don’t throttle her for pulling this little charade.”
 
“Where the fuck are you?”
 
“Parkland Trauma Centre.  Khan got her with his knife just before she shot him.  Nasty gash on her thigh, but she’ll likely be apples once the medics throw in a few stitches.”  I could hear the smile in his voice when he answered.
 
“She shot the son of a bitch?  That’s my girl!  I always knew she was more than just another pretty face!  How badly is Kahn injured?”
 
“Not badly enough; I’d be happy if she’d killed the bastard.  I think Ackerman would as well.  She winged him.  He’ll survive for extradition, if that option’s still on the table.  At this point, I’ve no idea how Max got away from the people holding him, and he’s obviously been here for a while.  He’s got some explaining to do once we get him alone.  I have to go.  I need to call Diana and tell her to stand down.  I had one of the officers at the scene contact the auto club to tow Reags’ car to her house, but forgot to tell him to have them collect mine as well.  Would you take care of that?  Tell them to follow the flashing lights from Reags’ car to the secondary scene; they’re about a block apart, and both locations will likely be cordoned off the rest of the day for evidence collection.  Have them tow the Jag to the farm.  We’ll use Ackerman’s car to get to Reags and Max’s place.”
 
“Yeah.  I’ll update Sooze and call off the security at her place.  She’ll be glad to have life get back to normal.”


SURGICAL RESIDENT BELINDA ARMSTRONG, M. D.
The PA snapped me out of my REM state.
 
“Possible penetrating stab wound …surgeon to Trauma Three!”  There was a second page for someone with a gunshot to the arm in Trauma Seven, but I opted for the stab wound.  Medically speaking, they’re usually more interesting than gunshot wounds to the arm.
 
I’d been catching 40 winks in the on-call room after almost 36 hours on duty.  I sat up, swinging my feet to the floor and shoving them into my clogs, stood, pulled on my lab coat, and sprinted to the desk.  The triage nurse looked up at me.  “The stab wound …may I have the chart and the bullet, please?”
 
“White female, 35 to 40 years of age.  Knife wound, lateral aspect of the left thigh.  No deep arterial involvement, but she’s lost a fair amount of blood.”  I nodded and headed to Trauma Three, walking as I looked at the chart the nurse had given me.  Into the room and I wasn’t surprised to find a man with her …there nearly always is.  I prayed this wasn’t another instance of domestic violence, and glanced at the chart again before speaking.
 
“Dr. Kavanagh?”  The woman on the gurney looked at me and nodded.  She didn’t seem to be afraid of the man, and a swift look at the exposed skin of her neck and lower arms showed no obvious signs of bruising.  Good so far.  Maybe both of us just got lucky.
 
“Are you a medical doctor?”
 
“Clinical psychologist …forensics.”  I turned to the man holding her right hand.
 
“And you are …?”
 
“Max Espan, her fiancé.”
 
“Okay.  Mr. Espan, I need you to move away from the table so I can check her over.  If you feel faint, get the Hell out of my trauma room.  I don’t like attending to more than one patient at a time.”  He smiled at me as he squeezed the woman’s hand and stepped aside.
 
“I can deal with the blood, Doctor, have no concern for that.”  If he could, he was a rare bird.  I’ve seen a number of doctors keel over when their friends or loved ones were bleeding.  I pulled on gloves as I moved to the stretcher.
 
“How did this happen, Dr. Kavanagh?”
 
“I was abducted and attacked by a man who’s been stalking me for weeks.  When I jerked away and tried to get out of his car, he slashed me.  Thank God his aim was off, or I’d be dead.”  I looked at what I could see of the wound which wasn’t much given that she was wearing black jeans. 
 
“Hope you aren’t overly attached to these jeans, because I’m going to have to cut them off you.”  She grinned.
 
“Want me to hand you the scissors?”  Either she was an idiot, shocky, or an amazingly stable and well-centered individual.  I glanced across the room to the fiancé, and he was smiling.  I took that to indicate such statements were normal for her.  Okay, she’s probably mentally stable.  I couldn’t help myself and smiled down at her.
 
“I think I can manage.”  The nurse handed me a scissors, and I started at her left ankle as the nurse started on the right side, speaking as I worked.
 
“Dr. Kavanagh, can you tell me what day it is?”  She looked at me and smiled as she answered.
 
“Dr. (she paused to look at my name tag) Armstrong, I’m oriented, three-by-three.  It’s Wednesday, 23rd September 2006, and (she raised her arm to look at her wristwatch) it’s 0937 hours.  I’m at Parkland Hospital Trauma Centre in Dallas, Texas, and about 45 minutes ago, I shot the son-of-a-bitch who’s been stalking me for the last six weeks.  Oh yeah …George Walker Bush is still president of the United States.”  Yep, she was lucid, coherent, and had both her oars in the water.  I grinned at her as I cut through the pressure bandage applied in the field – got a couple of little pumpers there – removed her belt and tossed it to the fiancée, and continued cutting off her jeans.  Three minutes later the jeans were history and we had her down to her panties.  By that time a second nurse had started on her vitals and stopped when she pressed the stethoscope to the woman’s chest.  She took a step back, hands in the air, and looked at me.
 
“Uh, Doctor, she seems to be wearing a Kevlar vest and shoulder holster …the latter is complete with weapon.”  I stepped back from the table, my own hands held up and in front of me as Dr. Kavanagh spoke.
 
“It’s alright, Doctor.  I’m a former federal agent on temporary assignment.  If you’ll let me sit up, I’ll get rid of the vest, holster, and weapon.  My fiancée can take them, but I should warn you, he’s also armed though not dangerous at the moment.”  I took a deep breath; firearms and trauma centers aren’t a good combination.  At that moment the doors to the room flew open, and two men in suits walked in …cops.  You couldn’t miss that fact if you tried.  Two badges flashed, one from Dallas PD and the second with the unmistakable FBI shield.  A third man who looked amazingly like the fiancé but with shorter hair and clean-shaven walked in behind them and went to stand with Mr. Espan.  My day just got a good deal more interesting.  The Dallas cop spoke first.
 
“I’m Detective Sergeant Al Garza.  This is Special Agent Ted Ackerman, Federal Bureau of Investigation.  I’ll be assisting in recovery of evidence, but this is Agent Ackerman’s jurisdiction.  The third gentleman is a close friend of the family.”  The FBI agent nodded to me as he approached the table and spoke to the woman.
 
“How you doing, Reagan?” 
 
“I’m fine, Ted.  Just need the good doctor here to throw in a few sutures, and I’ll be home in no time.”  Obviously those two knew each other well.  Ackerman turned to me, nodding to the jeans that were now in two pieces on the floor.
 
“Those are evidence.  I’ll need them in a plastic bag, and no one touches them other than Sergeant Garza or me.”  I nodded.  “You got a photographer around here?”  I nodded.  County trauma centers always have photographers in the building because we get all the major injuries, and documenting them for the police and courts goes with the territory.  I looked at one of the aides.
 
“Julie, run out to the desk and have the charge nurse get a photographer in here, stat.  And bring me a few plastic bags for evidence collection; the police need her clothing.”  She took off like a duck in a hailstorm.  This was her first week with us, and her eyes were as big as dinner plates.  Ackerman watched Julie scurry away and turned back to me.
 
“You do understand that Sergeant Garza and I will be here throughout whatever procedures you perform on Dr. Kavanagh?  If she requires surgery, I’ll be observing from over the surgeon’s shoulder.”  Lovely.  That would have the legal department in a tailspin before even God Almighty could get the news.  You’d think legal would be used to that level of oversight by now, but when it comes to the potential for litigation, they’re always on high alert.  Given that my patient was my priority, and if proper treatment for her entailed having the Feds watch over my shoulder, I could live with it.  It wasn’t the first time, and sure as Hell wouldn’t be the last.  I nodded as I spoke.
 
“I understand, Agent Ackerman.  That won’t be a problem, nor will it be the first time any of us have worked with a badge breathing down our necks.  Just so you’ll know what’s going on, I’ll be giving you a running commentary as I work.”  He smiled and stepped to the far side of the exam table to give me room to work.
 
“We understand each other just fine, Dr. Armstrong.”
 
“Good.  Then stay out of my way.”   I nodded to Molly, the nurse, and she removed the boot on the woman’s left foot, holding it until Julie returned with the bags, and then carefully put the boot in the bag.  When she’d slipped it off the foot, I’d looked over at it.  There was a good 180 ml of blood in it before it spilled onto the floor, even considering what had been absorbed by boot and sock.  She’d been bleeding for a while.  I looked back at Molly.  “Start a unit of Ringers’ and get a tech in here to draw blood for type and crossmatch in case we need it.”  Agent Ackerman put the destroyed pair of jeans into another bag and sealed it.
 
 
MAXIMUS
She was bleeding rather heavily, though I do not believe she realised it.  It was not appropriate at that time for me to tell her how I had come to be released by my captors, though from the look I received from Terry, I was sure he was beginning to suspect the reality.  My entire attention was focused on Cassandra, and ensuring her receipt of immediate and appropriate medical attention.  Terry and I were permitted to ride with her in the emergency vehicle.  We had no opportunity to talk; Terry was in the front of the vehicle, and I was in the back with Cassandra and the medics.  We would not have spoken in that venue even had the opportunity presented itself.  Explanation of my presence and how those entrusted with Cassandra’s protection had failed her – and in so doing, had broken their vow to me - was best left until we were alone.
 
Cassandra’s jeans were cut away and discarded, followed by the nurse’s discovery of her vest, holster and sidearm.  Those were removed and I took them, dropping her vest to the floor beside me, and placing the holster over my right shoulder after removing the clip from the weapon and clearing the chamber, slipping the clip and the shell from the chamber into my pocket.  Both her firearms would be collected by Ted Ackerman and processed along with the rest of the evidence.  Ackerman and the Dallas police officer from the scene entered the room at that moment, with Terry close behind.  Within five minutes, Cassandra had been divested of all her clothing save her knickers and brassiere and covered with a sheet for modesty; only her left leg remained fully exposed. 
 
The wound was ugly, approximately seven inches in length.  I could not discern its depth from my position.  It continued to bleed, and a few small vessels had begun spurting when the doctor removed the pressure bandage applied at the scene.  The surgeon probed the edges gently, and Cassandra bit her lower lip as the surgeon looked into her face.
 
“Painful?”
 
“A bit.”
 
“I’ll bet.  Give me a minute, and we’ll numb it up so I can explore the wound and see if I need to send you up to surgery or if we can deal with it here.”  She turned to me.  “Do you know if she has any drug allergies?”  She looked back at Cassandra.  “If you had any allergies, I think you’d have told me by now, but I’d like independent verification.”  Cassandra nodded but did not speak as the doctor turned back to me.
 
“None of which I am aware.”  The doctor turned to the nurse.
 
“Molly, get me five cc’s of Lidocaine and let’s get to work on this lady.”  Moments later the doctor was injecting the drug both into the wound and all round it.  Dropping the syringe into a basin held out by the nurse, she turned to me.  “You doing okay over there?  Feeling queasy or light-headed?  How about your buddy?”
 
“I am well.  You need have no have concern for either of us.  Tend to her.”  She began probing the outside of the wound with gloved fingers, then stopped. 
 
“Any idea what kind of blade he used?  This is clean enough to have been a scalpel …no ragged edges, nothing.  This is a clean, deep, almost surgically precise incision.”  Ackerman answered her.
 
“Sorry, Doctor, don’t have any idea.  Even if I did, that would be classified.”  The doctor nodded to herself.
 
“Oh, yeah.  I forgot.”  Returning her attention to the task at hand, she spoke again to her nurse.  “I need this flushed with saline so I can see what the Hell we have here.  She’s still bleeding pretty badly - a couple of little pumpers and several larger veins - and I can’t see the vessels to tie them off.”  The nurse opened a bottle and began pouring liquid into the wound.  “Keep it coming.  Becky, haemostats …five-inch, curved and straight.”  The second nurse – Becky – handed her one of the requested instruments as the first nurse continued to flush the wound.  “There’s one.”  I heard the click as the jaws of the instrument locked into place and the doctor picked up the next one, moving to the next vessel as the first clamp dangled from the wound.  “Two.”  Moments later she spoke again.  “Three  …four …and - gotcha! - five.  Okay, flush it again.”  She stood back and looked.  “Okay, that’s got the larger veins and the arteries.  Get the cautery over here, and I’ll hit the tiny ones before suturing the larger ones.  We can burn the arteries …they’re small enough to reroute on their own.”
 
Moments later the room crackled with the sizzling sound of hot metal against wet tissue, and the odour of burning flesh filled the room.  Whilst that was an odour I had not smelt in two-thousand years, it is not one easily forgotten.  Five minutes later, the doctor returned the cautery probe to its position on the cart.  She proceeded to suture the two larger vessels with great precision, having elected to cauterize the others she had clamped – I should have thought their repair would require a trip to the operating theatre – and at last seemed satisfied.
 
“More saline …let’s see if we missed any of the little fuckers.”  I smiled.  Surgeons in my day were equally colourful in their language.  Some things do not change.  The nurse poured more saline as I watched and gradually, the fluid ran clear.  Dr. Armstrong smiled as she spoke.  “Remove the clamps and let’s check for leakage …okay!  Got all the bleeders.  Now let me check for muscle damage.”  She turned to speak to me over her shoulder.  “If I don’t find any, we can clean the wound and suture her up here, and you can take her home.”  She looked into the wound, pulling the edges wide to inspect it and turned to the nurse.
 
“I need a forceps and basin …there’s some cloth debris in the wound.”  She removed several fibres, dropping them and the forceps into the basin as Ackerman stepped forward and with gloved hands, took the basin from her, slipping it into a bag and sealing it. 
 
She turned to me as she spoke again.  “If you’d like to come back over here, you may …just stay on the right side of the table.”  I moved across the room and took Cassandra’s hand as Terry and Garza watched from across the room.  Ted Ackerman had moved to a position just behind the surgeon.  The hospital photographer arrived.
 
“You guys need me?”  Dr. Armstrong turned to Ackerman. 
 
“Tell him what you need and I’ll step out of the way until he’s done.”  It was apparent this was not her first experience with police matters.  Ackerman moved to the left side of the table to look at the wound and gestured to the photographer.
 
“I need a full length leg shot for perspective.  Anyone got a ruler?  I want it to be very clear as to the size of the wound and need the scale.”  The doctor pulled a small ruler from her pocket and took it to the sink where she poured what I took to be disinfectant over it before returning to Cassandra and laying it alongside the wound.  It was a six-inch rule; the wound was longer by at least an inch.  The photographer took his shots, and Ackerman dismissed him after advising that Sgt. Garza would accompany him whilst he transferred the images to a CD and then deleted them from his camera.  The doctor disinfected her rule again and slipped it back into her pocket before again returning to the wound.  After much probing and prodding and having Cassandra flex her leg into various positions, she finally stood erect and smiled at Cassandra.
 
“No muscle damage.  He barely nicked the upper layer, and that will heal on its own once I throw in a purse-string suture.  You must have done something to throw off his aim, otherwise this could have been bone deep.  As it is, we only need to close the fascia and skin.  I’ll do a plastic closure.  I’m guessing you don’t object to that.”  Cassandra laughed, though she sounded tired, and she was now very pale.
 
“Then get on with it.  I want to go home.”  An hour later Ackerman had turned the evidence and photo CD over to a second federal officer who had arrived at the trauma centre.  Sergeant Garza had departed.  The rest of us made our way to Ackerman’s car and left for home.  I belatedly remembered to call the auto rental agency and tell them where they might locate my rental car, adding that I had no further need of it and would return the keys in a day or two.
 
 
REAGAN
I was released with antibiotics, pain meds, and seven inches of internal sutures, plus a plastic drawstring skin closure, along with the usual instructions to keep the wound dry for 72 hours.  I had a baggie with extra dressings should the wound drain over much during the night and require a clean dressing, as well as fresh Steri-Strips to put on after my showers.  The nurse who gave me the dressings and Steri-Strips obviously thought none of us would be interested in stopping at a chemist’s on the way home to pick up supplies.  Covering the dressing and tape was an Ace bandage that I was told to release every two hours and then replace.  In theory, it would help reduce swelling.  I’ll believe that when I see it.  The leg would probably be so sore by tomorrow morning that I’d be hobbling.  I’d start modified quadriceps and adductor work tomorrow.  That would likely be a bit painful but not as much as letting the leg stiffen up on me.
 
The first thing we did once into Ted’s car was reintroduce him and Maximus; they’d only met briefly the previous fall when we were in Washington.  The second thing to transpire was Terry asking Maximus what the Hell he was doing back in Dallas without telling us he was here.  Maximus’ face was tight when he spoke.
 
“It is a long story, Terry; I do not wish to tell it more than once.  Your curiosity can wait until all concerned have arrived at our home.  At that time, I will tell you what transpired and answer whatever questions any of you may have for me.”  At that point, I didn’t give a damn about his story or how he got home.  All that mattered was that he was home, he was safe, and I was in his arms.  I turned to look at him more closely.  His hair had grown over his collar and was curling round his ears; his beard – always so neatly trimmed – had grown higher on his cheeks and was fuller than I’d ever seen it.  A memory stirred as I looked at him.
 
“You were two lanes over from me at Albertson’s a couple of weeks ago …or if it wasn’t you, Russell Crowe’s moved into the neighbourhood!”  His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.
 
“I did not think you saw me.”
 
“Obviously I did.  I suppose it didn’t register because it never occurred to me that it could be you.  It was just a man who looked a lot like you would if your hair and beard were longer and fuller.”  By that time, Terry had turned to face us; he was in the front seat with Ted, and Maximus and I were in the back.
 
“You’ve been home two fucking weeks, and we’re just now learning of it?  What in bloody Hell were you playing at Max?”  Maximus turned to face him, his jaw set.
 
“I have been here nearer to three weeks.  What in bloody Hell were YOU playing at by not keeping her within your sight at every moment?  I survived my captivity by believing that you would never let her out of your care, yet your apathy came near to causing her death.”  His voice was low and cold, deadly as the attack of a marauding shark.  Oh, shit.  I touched his face.
 
“Maximus …look at me.”  I’d long since explained to Jim and Ted Maximus’ truth and reverted to calling him by his full name in their presence.  Surprisingly, they didn’t cart me off to the loony bin.  Perhaps that was due to already having been round Terry and Dino for weeks on end, in addition to Jim’s having worked with Terry at Luthan.  Maximus’ gaze returned to mine as I spoke.  “Terry didn’t know what I planned doing today, nor did Jim or Ted or Dino …or Dee.  No one knew but me, and I’d never have been out of their sight if they’d had any notion of my intentions.  I took a calculated risk, and it worked.”  He started to speak, and I placed my fingers over his lips.  “Like you, I will explain when everyone is in the same room.  One time through is enough for both of us.”  He pulled me back into his side, and the four of us rode the rest of the way home in silence.
 
 
DIANA
I was out of the house in less then five minutes after receiving the call from Terry.  The only reason it took me that long was my stopping to call Nancy and ask her to feed the horses that night as Terry and I would probably be late getting home.
 
Having keys to your best friend’s house is a good thing.  When Terry had called to tell me what Reags had done, I’d done the same thing as the morning he'd called to tell me Max had been abducted.  I dropped the phone; at least this time, I didn’t throw up as soon as the conversation was over.  Forty-five minutes later, I pulled into Max’s and Reags’ drive and went into the house.  As usual, the pups were more than happy to see me.  Dino rang the bell about ten minutes after I arrived.
 
I ratted through the freezer, figuring that everyone and their brother would be here for dinner tonight, as Reags had a lot of splainin’ to do.  Might as well get ready to feed the troops.  There was hamburger meat in the freezer.  Parmesan, lasagne noodles, and canned tomatoes in the pantry …onions in the hanging basket in the kitchen, and garlic in the jar beside the stove.  That made life easy; we were having lasagne and a salad for dinner.  I didn’t need to check the ‘fridge for salad stuff, as Reags always has that.  She grazes more than my horses do. 
 
I pulled one of her stock pots from under the counter, poured in a bit of olive oil, and started chopping onions and garlic to sauté before adding the meat to brown.  Dino had been watching and took off his coat, hanging it in the foyer coat closet.  He rolled up his sleeves as he walked back into the kitchen and started opening the cans of tomatoes.  That done, he turned to look at me.
 
“What else can I do?”
 
“Check their bedroom.  She launders the sheets every weekend so it’s only been a few days at most since she changed the linens, but I’d like clean sheets on the bed since she has a wound.  Be sure and use the washer setting that does an extra rinse cycle.  Reags had a shitload of skin allergies and needs to be sure that there’s no detergent left in anything, or she'll be in full-blown hives ten minutes after getting into bed.”  He nodded and headed down the north hallway, returning a couple of minutes later with his arms full of sheets.  He knew where the utility room was and obviously knew what washers and dryers were for; he had the wash going in less then three minutes and turned back to me.  The trained-trippers had gathered around me in the kitchen and were underfoot.  He grinned at them and shook his head as he spoke.
 
“Come on, Pups.  Let’s go play.”  Play was the magic word, and they bounced behind him to the door, sitting to wait as he opened it.  A couple of minutes later I heard Bear’s ‘happy bark’ and looked out the kitchen's bay window to see Dino tossing their Frisbee as Bear jumped three feet into the air to catch it.  I was browning the hamburger when he hustled the dogs back into the house, and they returned to their self-assigned posts on the kitchen floor.  I’ve never seen them beg – other than for ice cubes, which they love – but they weren’t averse to snapping up anything that was accidentally dropped on the floor either; they were watching me with hope in their eyes.  Dino leaned against the counter, watching as I worked and seemed about to say something when his cell rang.
 
“O’Reilly.  Yeah.  Okay, see you then.”  He snapped the phone shut.  “They’ve just left Parkland.  Should be here within 45 minutes tops.  Did you know Max was home?”  I turned to look at him, my mouth probably falling open in shock.  Terry somehow neglected to drop that little bombshell when he called to tell me Reags had been injured in her insane plan to catch Tamir Khan.  “Obviously Tio didn’t tell you when he called.  Don’t ask how, because I don’t know.  Max has a shitload of explaining to do when they get here, as does Reags.”  He turned and started toward their bedroom, stopped, and turned back to me.  “Where does Reags keep the clean sheets?  She needs to be in bed as soon as she gets here, and the sheets in the wash won’t be done and dry for a couple of hours.”
 
“Top shelf in the bathroom.”  He started back down the hall and looked back over his shoulder when I called to him.  “Dino?  Thanks.  If you ever do decide to get married, you’re going to make some lucky woman a very good wife.”  He grinned before turning and disappearing into the bedroom.  That was the first time I’d not seen him cringe when someone intimated a long-term relationship in conjunction with his name.  Maybe being around Max and Reags and Terry and me was rubbing off on him.  Hey, it could happen!
 
 
DINO
Dee and I were sitting in Reags’ living room when Ted pulled into the drive behind Max’s Bentley, Dee’s truck, and Baby.  If anyone else showed up today, they’d have to park on the street.  The dogs were barking and bouncing as I hauled my ass from the chair and grabbed Bailey-the-Bolter’s collar just as I heard a key in the lock.  The door opened, and there stood Max, Reags in his arms with the key in her hand.  I shook my head at them and stood back to let them inside.  Ted and Terry followed, and Tio’s face looked like it was etched in stone.  I’ve seen the man pissed, but he was way beyond that now.  He walked past me without a word, and into the kitchen where he took a glass from the cabinet, sloshed it three-quarters full of scotch from the bottle I’d left on the counter and walked back to the living room.  He didn’t even bother to stop for ice. 
 
Max dropped her vest on the couch - it had been hooked over his arm - and carried Reags to their room, presumably to let her change clothes as she was wearing a set of scrubs, closing the door after they entered.  I looked at Dee who rolled her eyes at me after taking one look at Terry’s face.  Ackerman had been leaning against the bar during that little display and pushed himself off it, going to the kitchen and returning with a drink before shrugging off his coat and dropping it on the back of the couch before sitting.  Terry put down his glass and shrugged off his coat, took his cigarettes from the inside pocket and walked out the back door.  Ted looked at me.
 
“He get this steamed often?”
 
“Not to this extent.  He say anything on the way here?”
 
“Tried to.  He asked Max what the Hell he was doing here.  Max said he’d tell it once and only once, after all concerned made it to the house.”  He looked around.  “Where’s Jim?”  I hadn’t even thought to ask.  Dee had been watching Tio and turned back to us.
 
“I called him on my way over.  He said he’d make a run to the liquor store and be back.”  She looked at her watch.  “I didn’t think to call until I was about a mile up the road from here; he was just pulling out of the drive when I drove in.  If he’s smart, he’ll wait an hour to come back and let Terry blow off steam first.  He’s worked with Terry and knows him pretty well.  He’s probably well aware of what’s coming.”  If Jim knew that, he knows Tio a lot better than I do.  I’d seen the man angry, but this was an entirely new level in my experience.  
 
The door to Max and Reags’ bedroom opened, and they walked in – his arm around her waist – as coolly as if they’d just come back from a walk in the fucking park.  She was dressed in BDUs and what appeared to be one of Max’s t-shirts because it was about six sizes too big for her; the size disparity emphasized how much weight she'd lost since Max went missing.  Tio apparently heard the bedroom door open, turned and looked at Max through the French doors, ground out his smoke beneath his shoe, and shook out another one and lit it, looking daggers at Max before turning back to look toward the north end of the property.  Max let Reagan sit, then got the footstool and brought it over, lifted her injured leg onto it, and sat on the floor beside her.  He took her hand in his and looked over at the rest of us.  Dee grinned at him.
 
“Jesus, Max.  With your hair and beard grown out, you look exactly like Russell Crowe in one of his fallow periods.”  He smiled. 
 
“Perhaps not so much as you might think.  I have not yet been mobbed on line at the supermarket.”  She laughed.
 
“Probably only because he’s filming in New York, and no one thinks he’d be in Texas at this point!”  We all laughed as the front door opened and Jim walked in, a case of bottles under one arm.  Terry must have heard him because he turned, took another drag on his cigarette, and came back into the house.  Jim put down the box, snagged two chairs from the dining room and brought them into the living room, and he and Terry sat.  If Jim hadn’t known Max was home, you couldn’t tell it.  Terry took a pull at his drink, then looked at Max.
 
“I think you owe all of us an explanation, Max, as do you, Reagan.”  Damn!  He was pissed if he called her Reagan.  I sat back in my chair and waited.  Might as well get comfortable; I had the feeling we were going to be here for a while.
 
 
MAXIMUS           
Whilst alone with Cassandra in our room, I had held her close to me, drinking in her scent, the feel of her skin, the softness of her body, and turned her face up to mine, kissing her softly as the tears gathered in her eyes.  She started to speak and I lay my fingers over her lips, silencing her.
 
“Later I will tell you everything, from the moment of my capture.  I will tell the others what they need to know to insure Khan’s arrest and extradition.  My feelings in this matter are for your ears alone, and only after all have left our home.  Will you wait?”  She smiled up at me.
 
“I would wait a lifetime for you, Maximus.”  As would I for her.
 
*
 
“I will tell you everything I recall from the moment I was abducted, as well as what transpired that led to my being released.  I will tell you of my activities since my return.  I will speak of this only once.  Ask what questions you have when I have finished.  I do not intend speaking of it again other than to the relevant authorities.”  Dino was calm, as were all but Terry.  The latter was seething with rage, and whilst his annoyance was understandable, I did not care for the apparent depth of his anger.  It was unnecessary and out of place; it was not his woman who had been at risk of her life.  What mattered was that Cassandra was safe, and Khan was in custody.  I looked round the room, meeting the gaze of each of them, and began.
 
“I was returning to my hotel following an appointment.  The evening was pleasant, and I determined to walk rather than taking a cab, as the distance from where I had met the client was but a 20-minute walk.  I was standing at a corner, awaiting the changing of the traffic light when I heard footsteps behind me.  There was no one else near.  I had started to turn when I was struck on the back of my head; everything went black.  The next thing I recall was waking in darkness.  At the time I did not know whether the gloom was due to nightfall or the blackness of a windowless room.  My head ached, and on searching, I found a lump at the base of my skull.  I was on a cot.  I did not move again for a time, attempting to ascertain if I was alone; the only sound was that of my own breathing.  My hand went to my throat …my thong with its claw was gone.  At that moment I realised I had been taken hostage and was being held for ransom; the claw was proof of life.
 
“I had been permitted to keep my wristwatch, thus I was aware of how long I had been held before first seeing my captors.  I had been taken not later than seven-thirty in the evening; the door to my room opened shortly after eight the following morning.  Those entering the room wore balaclavas and gloves, making it difficult to discern the colour of their skin through the holes for their eyes and mouths.  For the first two days, the only light in my room was that coming in from the corridor when they opened the door.  On the first day I was given food and drink, but when I asked their demands, no one answered.  I knew they spoke Arabic, as I could hear them conversing in the corridor outside my room, but they said nothing regarding the reason for my abduction.  I did not wish them to know that I understood Arabic and asked in French why I had been taken.  The two who had brought me my meal on the occasion I asked that question smiled but did not reply.  In the late afternoon of the first day, I was given a copy of the letter sent to the two of you (I nodded at Terry and Dino) and permitted to read it in the light from the corridor.
 
“On closer observation of the two as they left the room, I asked again why I had been taken in order to detain them momentarily in the light; they turned back to me whilst standing in the doorway.  The light there was good, and I could better discern their skin colour; it was fair, and I surmised they were from one of the countries where lighter-skinned Arabs are more common.  They may have been Lebanese, Syrian, Jordanian …possibly Iranian or Iraqi or even Afghani.  I did not consider them to be Saudi Arabian.  It was night again, and I returned to my cot when they closed the door, thinking of Cassandra, asking the Gods to keep her safe in my absence.  I composed myself to sleep and did not awaken until morning.
 
“I heard a key in the lock and sat up, looking away from the door in order to get a better idea of my surroundings when the light from the corridor entered the room; it was approximately eight by ten feet, confirming what I had determined whilst pacing it off the first night.  The ceilings were high.  There were two windows at the level of the ceiling, both painted black which explained the ever present darkness.  There was a portable toilet in one corner – I had found that shortly after having awakened – but no furnishings beyond that aside from my cot.  Though I felt I could break out a widow and escape were I to stand the bed on end and climb atop it, I felt sure my prison was a number of floors above ground in order to preclude any such attempt.  I also suspected the window glass would be reinforced with steel mesh.  It would have been foolish of my captors not to have taken those most simple precautions.  A man entered the room and stood against the opposite wall, looking at me.  His face was covered with a guthra, only his eyes visible. 
 
“When he spoke, it was in Arabic; he asked if I spoke the language.  I did not answer and affected a confused mien that he might think me ignorant of it.  His voice was cultured, as one well educated.  On receiving no response, he switched to French, knowing I spoke it as my questions to his comrades had been asked in that language.  When he asked, I acknowledged that I spoke both French and Spanish.  He knew I spoke English, as he had my passport, though he continued to address me in French.  He indicated that he had questions for me; I said that I had questions for him as well. 
 
“He gave me the photograph of Cassandra that I carry with me always and asked if she was my woman.  It was pointless to dissemble; he had my wallet and knew that she was my emergency contact from the documents there and her identity from her signature on the back of the photo.  It was obvious that she was either my wife or someone very dear to me.  I said she was my fiancée, that we were to be married in the fall.  I know he smiled, as his guthra moved round his mouth.  He said they had no wish to harm her and returned the photograph to me.  Before he left me that night, he said that on the morrow I would be moved to a room with windows in order that I might see the sun, and that I would be permitted to exercise if I wished.  He left me again in darkness, alone with my memories of my Cara.”  I stopped speaking and took a long swallow of my drink.
 
“It was during that night I realised it was unlikely I would be harmed.  I had been well treated; their words and manner had been civilised.  The food I had been given was good, and I had been offered wine with my evening meals and a cigar afterwards, though I declined both on each occasion.  I was permitted to shower each day and given clean clothing to wear, though not provided a razor.  They wanted something from me; I suspected I would learn what that might be on the next occasion the one of my captors who spoke French returned to see me.”
 
 
REAGAN
Maximus stopped talking and took a sip of his drink, then looked at the glass as he rolled it between his hands.  I put my hand on his shoulder, and he turned to look at me, one hand coming up to rest atop mine where it lay on his shoulder before resuming.  It stayed there until he’d finished talking.
 
 
MAXIMUS
“On the next occasion the man who would become my sole contact whilst I was held – I never learnt his name – came to me, he had a demand.  He no longer bothered with covering his face, though that did not give me cause for alarm.  I had realised they wanted more from me than simply my life or money.  He stated that he and his fellows wished me to make them an accommodation.  I knew without asking what he wished of me, though I did not know the target.  I played his game, hoping to find an acceptable means of refusal.”  I stopped for a moment, thinking back to insure I had the sequence of events correct in my mind.  So much had transpired over the preceding weeks that at times it seemed everything ran together, as the flooding tributaries feeding a river rush onward to the sea, tearing away everything in their path lacking solid roots.
 
“I asked the nature of this accommodation.  He handed me a photograph of a man, asking if I knew him.  I said I had no recollection of having seen him previously.  He said the man knew me, and I looked again at the image.  On closer study and reflection, I realised I had seen him on two separate occasions whilst in Cairo.  The first was at the Mena House.  He was standing against the wall, watching and laughing as Cassandra and I left the room; the second was at the Coptic Museum when we saw the child, Veronica, and knew she was alive.  I returned the photo and asked why it mattered whether or not I had seen this man.  My captor smiled before answering.  When he spoke, he said he knew the identity of the man in the photo and his present location.  He said he wanted me to kill him.
 
“I asked why I should wish to accommodate him in that manner.  I said I was not an assassin.  His voice was calm when he spoke – too calm – saying the man in the photo first abused and then killed female children and did not deserve to live.  If that were true, I would agree in principle, but I had no verification of his words and said again that I was not a hired killer.  He took a copy of the photo I carry of Cassandra from his pocket and held it out to me.  He asked if I would kill to protect her.  It was a rhetorical question; he knew my answer before asking.”
 
 
TERRY
“ …he asked if I would kill to protect her.”
 
With Max’s softly spoken words, I felt my anger begin to dissolve.  Of course he would kill to keep Reags safe, as I would to protect Diana, and we hadn’t yet anything near the acknowledged investment in each other Max and Reags did.  I looked at him where he sat on the floor beside her chair, her hand on his shoulder, his hand over hers, his thumb absently caressing her fingers as he spoke.  He wasn’t there because there weren’t enough chairs in the room for him to sit.  He was there because it was as close as he could get to her in mixed and polite company.  It was painfully clear that what Max wanted more than anything on Earth at that moment was to crawl as far inside Reags as he could, not sexually, but emotionally.  He needed into the warmth of her spirit, the inner fire that made her the woman she is and that he loves so desperately, the woman who draws him into herself even as he draws her.  She’s the one woman on the face of the Earth who loves him above all other men, in the same way he loves her.  At that moment I wanted to stop him, to say that we’d finish this later because what he and Reags needed right now was each other without anyone else about.  I looked at Reags and opened my mouth to speak, but stopped when she gave a single, slow shake of her head.  Her intent was clear …let him finish this …let him finish this now.  I closed my mouth and sat back to listen.  Max looked at Dino and me with his next statement.  He clearly considered us as having failed him, failed Reags, in our promise to protect her.  In truth, we had.  We’d both underestimated her determination and independence, and we’d have to live with that knowledge and what might have happened as a result.
 
“He said the man from Cairo was stalking Cassandra, that we had interfered with his plans for the child – for Veronica – and Cassandra would replace her in his macabre dance of torture and death.  He said he had warned my partners, and that you had promised to keep her safe.  He said that if this man caught her, her death would be slow, agonising.  When he allowed me to speak with you, you gave me your solemn vow to keep her from harm’s way.  I trusted the two of you to do so.”  Yes, I’d done that and by extension, so had Dino.  What neither of us took into consideration was Reags being Reags, and until today, I’d truly had no notion as to just how single-minded she was and is.  After the time in Cairo, I’d mistakenly assumed that I knew her.  Diana’s words about her knowing Reags better than I ever would came back to haunt me.  Today I realised just how wrong I’d been, how horribly I’d underestimated what Reags would do to protect those she loved.  I’d miscalculated the risk she was willing to take both to protect Diana and to bring Max home; I’d never even considered her behaving as she had today as an option.  I looked across at Dino; he shook his head in resignation and sighed heavily.  I took Diana’s hand in mine as I returned Max’s gaze.
 
 
MAXIMUS
“I told my captor that irrespective of any danger to my fiancée, we would not kill the man who sought her.  I said you would offer alternatives, and asked he consider them carefully.  I asked who this man was to him, if he had killed his daughter or a younger sister.  He said his eight-year-old daughter – his only daughter – had been murdered by this animalis, this bestiae.  I promised him justice.  He left me alone, and I did not see him for several days; I do not know where he was during that time.  On his return, I saw him daily until my release.  I do not know what – if any – contact you may have had with him during that time.  He said nothing further to me regarding the requested accommodation.  It is my belief he felt with time, I would agree.  All he need do was wait until my fear for Cassandra outweighed whatever honour remained within me.  He knew that day would arrive.
 
“Some time following my capture - and having been shown photographs of what the man I had been asked to kill had done to his victims - I began having nightmares.  Initially, they simply woke me from my sleep.  Over time, I would awaken with my heart pounding.  That gave way to waking drenched in sweat and, finally, to vomiting in reaction to the ever worsening nightmares.  I had begun to see my Cara in my dreams, helpless in the hands of a monster; I heard her screams of agony and pleas for mercy.  I heard her beg for the comfort and release of death.  The only response was the mocking of his laughter.  I beseeched the Gods to keep her safe, but my prayers echoed hollowly in my mind.  Three weeks ago my captor made his usual morning visit.  On that occasion I told him I would do as he requested – perform the accommodation – and asked that he release me.  He requested I notify him when I had accomplished the task in order that he might confirm it.  I agreed.  He left me and returned minutes later with the clothing I had worn the night of my abduction, along with a large envelope.  It contained my passport and wallet, my cell phone, travellers’ cheques, and the key card to my hotel room.  He gave me a slip of paper with a telephone number.  I was to call him at that number when it was done.  I memorised the number and discarded the paper.  When he left me on that last occasion, the door to my room remained open.  I changed clothes, gathered my personal items and put them in my pockets, and walked out of the room.  I never saw him again.
 
“Three hours later I had a false passport in the name of Jonathan Swift.  I obtained travellers’ cheques and an American Express card in that name, and a new cell phone.  I was given a briefcase with a false bottom by the man who provided my new documents and secreted my true documents there.  I booked passage on a Syrian Arab Airlines flight scheduled to depart for Paris at seven-thirty the following morning.  From Paris I took a non-stop Air France flight to Houston and a connecting flight on to Dallas.  On arriving in Dallas, I immediately took a flat to let close to this house in order that I might more easily watch Cassandra.  Late that evening, I visited a series of bars in South Dallas.  I purchased a weapon and ammunition and filed the serial number off the gun; I etched through the remains of the numbers with acid to ensure the gun could not be traced in that manner.  I leased a used car – you saw it earlier – and purchased clothes that would be common to any labourer in order that I might blend into a crowd.  One week following my return, I stood two lanes over from Cassandra at the supermarket.  She looked my direction on leaving the market and smiled at me in passing.  She did not recognise me.  From that moment forward, I knew I could observe her – any of you – without notice.  We see only what we expect to see, and none of you expected to see me.”
 
 
TED ACKERMAN
Damn, he was good.  When I got back to Quantico and told Jack the hide-in-plain-sight routine, he’d be trying to recruit Max for the Unit.  Well, if Max weren’t already past 38, he would, but we do have that cut-off for new agents.  Reagan was 38 now, heading toward 39, and had been reactivated when she was at Quantico for the implant.  She’d never been removed from the Bureau’s list of operatives; maybe Jack just knew that one day - for some reason - she’d walk through our door again. 
 
I interrupted my musings and turned my attention back to Max’s activities for the past few weeks.  He had been a busy man and had slipped in right under our noses.  I’d never live this one down.
 
 
MAXIMUS
“When Cassandra left the house today, she deviated from her usual route.  I knew her intention immediately, even before hearing Jim and Ted’s comments in my ear bud.”  I had neglected to tell them I had also purchased listening equipment – from TEO’s usual supplier – on arrival in Dallas.  I told them of weaving a tale for our supplier of having left the ear bud within reach of the dogs, and one of them had deemed it a tasty morsel thus mandating my replacement of it.  I had put the expense on my personal account, rather than that of the firm.  Terry finally smiled at that remark.  Perhaps his ire is diminishing.  Perhaps he has realised he would have acted as I have, should he be placed in a similar situation. 
 
“I increased my speed and followed her new route.  On exiting 635 at Highway 78, I lost sight of her at an intersection when I was forced to stop.  On resuming my efforts to find her, I was unsuccessful until hearing the wail of emergency vehicles and looked for the source of the sounds.  I looked into my rear view mirror to see a Dallas Police vehicle behind me.  He went round me and up onto the walkway and I followed him.  Within five minutes we had reached the scene of Khan’s capture.  You are aware of all that occurred from that moment forward.”  I stopped talking and looked about the room.  They knew the story from that point forward; there was nothing more for me to tell them. 
 
 
REAGAN
Now that Maximus had told his story, it was my turn.  I took a sip from my glass before I spoke.
 
“Do you remember the night we saw Khan’s van at Dee and Terry’s?”  They nodded, and Terry looked into his glass.  “It wasn’t difficult to make the leap that if Khan couldn’t get to me, he could get to her.  I’m a trained agent, and I can protect myself,” that got me a look from all of them, “she can’t.  I also know how men like Khan think, and that gave me an edge.  Yes, there was an agent with Dee when Terry wasn’t there, but that wasn’t good enough, at least not for me.
 
“It occurred to me early on that worrying about my safety would eventually wear down Maximus’ resolve.  I knew that in time he would agree to their request, and I couldn’t let that happen, not when I knew I could bring Khan in and take him down.  I spent several days thinking it through; I told my classes they had a walk today so I didn’t need to worry about calling the department and cancelling.  If that comes to light in the investigation, I’ll deal with it.
 
“When I left the house this morning, Khan was waiting for me at my usual entrance to the Interstate.  That was the first time he’d been so close to the house and allowed me to see him.  I think he wanted me to see him today, even though I’m sure he didn’t know that we knew about him.  I also noted Max’s car …I’d seen it several times recently but thought the driver was one of the local field agents for the Bureau.  He never got close enough to let me see his features, but I’d come to recognise the car and a driver with dark hair and a beard.  I didn’t tell any of you what I intended doing, as I knew you’d find a way to stop me.  We had to catch this bastard before he could get to Dee or someone’s child.  It was a risk I was willing to take, and I did.  That’s all there is to it.  You know what I did.  All you needed was the why.”
 
Maximus had turned to look at me twice during my recitation, and I could see the anger in his eyes.  Oh well, I hadn’t expected him to be happy about what I’d done.  We’d probably have a few heated words about it, and that would be it.
 
 
MAXIMUS 
Half an hour later, all had left, and Cassandra and I were alone.  Ted and Jim had gone to a nearby hotel for the night.  I bade her stay in her chair as I saw everyone to the door, closing and locking it behind them.  I returned to her, sitting on the floor beside her, and lay my head on her uninjured leg as I wept.
 
 
REAGAN
He was home, he was safe – at least physically – and he was in my arms.  When he returned to sit beside me on the floor after the others left, he laid his head on my uninjured leg and wept.  The sounds coming from his throat broke my heart.  I leant forward, resting my head on his, stroking his hair and his back, and let him cry until he had exhausted himself.  When he raised his head to look at me, tears starred his eyelashes and glittered in his blue-green eyes as he spoke.
 
“I never thought to hold you again this side of Elysium.  I knew that if I could reach you before Kahn, I could keep you from harm.  On losing you in the morning’s traffic, I feared the worst.  When I saw you with Terry, I let go my breath; it seemed I had been holding it since losing sight of you.  I ….”  I placed my fingers on his lips.
 
“Shhhh.  It’s all right.  I’m all right …you’re all right.  We’re together.  That’s all that matters.”  He raised an eyebrow and looked at my leg.  “It will heal.  Perhaps the scar will remind me not to do something that foolish again.”  He finally smiled.
 
“So, we are agreed that what you did this day was foolish in the extreme?”  I shook my head.
 
“Not totally agreed …the extreme bit is your opinion.  I was afraid that if Khan was sufficiently frustrated in his efforts to get to me, he would go after Dee.  He found out where she and Terry live about ten days ago.  I couldn’t let that happen; I also couldn’t risk his taking someone’s child.  You would have done the same.”  He looked at me for a long moment and nodded.
 
“Yes, I would.”  He stood then and picked me up, carrying me to our room and depositing me on the bed.  He took off his shirt and holster, tossing the former toward the laundry basket and placing the latter carefully on the dresser before turning back to me and helping me out of my pants before taking off his own.  Ted had taken both my sidearms – the one I’d dropped in Khan’s van and the one Maximus took off me in the trauma centre – as part of the routine evidence collection process.  He helped me stand and turned back the covers on the bed and motioned me to sit, then sat beside me before stretching out and pulling me into his arms.  His voice was soft as he spoke one word.
 
“Sleep.”  His mood had changed dramatically by the time I awoke.
 
*
 
Maximus had been released immediately upon agreeing to eliminate Khan.  Tamir Omar Khan was now in detention awaiting notification of the departments of State, Justice, and Immigration, and their collective disposition of him.  We would ultimately learn that the leader of the group that kidnapped Maximus was Afghani.  His daughter had been tortured to death by Khan within five miles of their small village, her little body left by the roadside to be found by a shepherd on his way to the fields with his goats.  Khan would be extradited to Kabul to stand trial for her torture; the death sentence was virtually guaranteed.  I suspect Maximus’ captors were more than pleased with that result.  Maximus called the number he had been given and told the man what had happened.  He was smiling when he disconnected.  He had kept his word in spirit, if not in actual deed.
 
Maximus had been home from Syria for three weeks, three long weeks, during which time I’d thought he was still in captivity.  On learning I’d set myself up as bait for the kidnapper/killer of those children, he’d swallowed the remainder of his drink in one gulp and gone quiet.  He’d updated us on his experience and once everyone left the house that afternoon, we’d slept for a while.  By the time he awoke, his relief had turned to anger.  He was furious at me, turning his combined wrath at the three of us, Terry and Dino included, on me.  I’d anticipated it, knowing the driving force behind his words was fear for me rather than true anger.
 
“Did you take leave of your senses?  You of all those involved should have known better, should have exercised the utmost of caution, yet you lured him to you!  Are you completely mad?”  He was pacing the lounge, his anger sufficient to keep the dogs sitting at attention beside the back door; they could smell the anger that radiated off him in waves.
 
“Maximus, if I’d not drawn him out, he would have killed another child, taken another innocent life.  I couldn’t live with that possibility.”
 
“You preferred giving him the opportunity to take yours?”
 
“I was never in real danger.  Ted and Jim …,” and he cut me off.
 
“Were miles from being able to assist you.  The man could have cut your throat in his van at the petrol station and sped away with no one the wiser.  You would have been dead long before help arrived.”  I tried again.
 
“Maximus ….”
 
“Sileo!  I cannot look at you again this night.”  He stalked to the door, slamming it so hard on his way out that the house shook.  I stood alone in the silence of our home as I heard the Bentley speed off into the night.
 
*
 
The phone rang 47 minutes later.
 
“Reags?  Terry here.  Just want you to know Maxie’s here and safe.  Diana’s pouring him a drink.  I’ll check in later.”  He hung up, and I replaced the phone on its base.  Walking to the kitchen, I made myself a drink and took it to the lounge and sat.  The dogs trooped over and arranged themselves round my chair, looking up at me.  I patted each soft, furry head in turn and picked up the TV remote, clicking the set on and flipping to CNN.  Same old, same old.  Another IED in Baghdad had killed six American soldiers and injured three.  Dissidents had set off another car bomb in Jerusalem.  Bush was still managing not to say anything definitive regarding the arrest of either Scooter Libby or Jack Abramov, and ignoring the illegal tapping of private citizens’ phones; the harangue about who was responsible for the screw-ups in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina was still there.  Some things never change, do they?  I turned off the set, got up and walked to the phone, dialling a number from memory.
 
“Gordon Beverly.”  I smiled at his voice.  Gordon was the therapist I’d consulted on first moving to Dallas.  He’d helped me immeasurably in sorting through my miscarriage, divorce, and picking up the pieces of my life.
 
“Hey, Gordon.  It’s Reagan Kavanagh.”
 
“Reagan …wondered if I’d be hearing from you.  Saw the sound bites on the six o’clock news after you helped take down the child murderer.”
 
“He was more than a simple murderer, Gordon.  When the number exceeds three and the murders occur over an extended period of time, we call them serial killers.” 
 
“Even if he only killed one person, it still took courage, Reagan.”  Or stupidity.  I’d put my life in danger, and Maximus had been shaking and flushed with rage when he left earlier.
 
“Yeah, I guess.”
 
“You want some company?”
 
“Yeah.”
 
“On my way.”
 
Don’t get any untoward ideas.  Gordon is gay and the best therapist I’d ever worked with; he was always there for me, both as a friend and as a therapist.  Perhaps having your therapist as a friend isn’t the ideal situation, but it had worked for us …for me.  He lived in nearby Garland and knocked on my door about half-an-hour later.  He took one look at me and shook his head.  We talked until three in the morning, at which point he fell asleep on my couch, and I went to bed.  I’d turned off the bell on the house phone; the ringing of my cell woke me at 0413.
 
*
 
“Where the fuck are you?”  It was Dee, and she sounded pissed.
 
“Huh?  I was asleep.”  I sat bolt upright.  “Is Maximus okay?”
 
“He gave up on his rant and went to sleep hours ago.  Terry and I’ve been calling your house since just after midnight and finally resorted to your cell.  Obviously, you’re not at home so where in hell are you?”
 
“I am at home …I turned off the bell on the house phone.  Gordon’s here.”
 
“Gordon?”  Her voice wasn’t quite a shriek, but it wasn’t that far off either.  “Who the fuck is Gordon?”
 
“My former therapist and my friend.  I needed someone to talk to who could at least make a pretence of being impartial.”  I could see the thought flitting through her brain …‘Oh …that Gordon.’
 
“And was he?”
 
“Yes.”  There was a long silence as she digested my lack of exposition.
 
“You need to send him home.”
 
“When did you become my mother?”  Now I was pissed.
 
“I haven’t, but Max set the alarm on his cell for five, and he’s heading home.  It might be a good idea if you were alone when he arrived.”
 
“Tell him to stay for breakfast; I’m not ready for his pissy, self-righteous mood yet.  You can tell him that, too.  Gordon will be gone by noon.”  Her answer was succinct.
 
“It’s your funeral.”  She hung up before I could think of another smart-ass comment.
 
 
MAXIMUS
I cannot recall ever having been as angry as I was with her on that night.  She had put her life in jeopardy for no reason.  One of the things about her I most admire is her strength and fortitude, but her strong-headedness on this occasion left me all but speechless.  I pounded the steering column in frustration as I accelerated down the road from our home.  I do not recall navigating the roads, becoming aware of my surroundings only when I realised I was parked behind Terry’s Jaguar in the drive of his and Diana’s home.  The lights were on in the lounge, and I made my way up the path and rang the bell.  Terry opened the door moments later.
 
“Max!  What in hell are you doing here?”
 
“Seeking sanity.  Had I remained at home, I fear I would have struck her.”
 
“Her?  Reags?  What did she do to make you this angry?”
 
“Her strong-headedness.  Her determination to always have things her way.  Her needless folly in placing her life in jeopardy.  Need I continue?”  I was in the house by that time, and Diana was standing beside Terry and spoke for the first time.
 
“No, I think that will do nicely.  Didn’t take either of you long to get past the fond homecoming, did it?”  She went to the kitchen and returned with a drink for me, sitting it on the coffee table as she sat beside Terry, and I paced in front of them.
 
“Max, mate, she did what she thought she had to do.  Khan knew where to find Diana.  Reags was afraid that if he couldn’t get to her, Diana would take her place, or he’d go after another child.  You heard what she said today.”
 
“Her thought processes in this instance do not mitigate her lack of reason.  There was no logic in this, no reason for her to put herself at risk.  I feel sure you had someone here at all times to protect Diana, as I am sure you did Sooze and Dolores.  Cassandra felt the need to take matters into her own hands and did so.  Is this to be the way of our relationship from this point forward?  If so, I have no confidence that I can sustain a marriage with her.”  I turned in time to see Diana’s brows rise as she looked at Terry before speaking.
 
“Max, I have to agree with Terry.  She did what she felt she had to do.  You don’t know what the waiting has been like for her.  You know she’s a strong and independent woman …you’ve said that’s one of the things you love about her.  Yes, this time, she did behave precipitously, but that’s not her usual way.  You’ve lived with her for almost a year and a half, and you know that 99% of the time, she thinks about things nine ways from Sunday before she acts.  She considers every possible scenario.  She knew that Ted and Jim would notify the local police as soon they realised she’d deviated from her usual route, and they did.  She was armed to the teeth, and Khan had no way of knowing that.  Yes, she was in danger, but I can’t imagine that he could have actually taken her.”  My words were hard when I answered her.
 
“That is not the point, Diana.”
 
“Then what is the point?  Are you going to be one of those husbands who has to know where his wife is every second?  Is she going to have to check in with you if she decides to stop at Starbuck’s for a coffee on her way to or from the University?  Because if you are, I can’t see her sustaining a marriage to you!”
 
*
 
The three of us talked for hours, until I had vented most of my anger.  Terry and Diana went to bed, and I lay back on the couch, having set the alarm on my cell phone to awaken me at five so that I might go home.  Cassandra might not open the door for me, but I doubted she had gone to the trouble of finding someone to change the locks during the night.  I awoke to Diana’s taking my cell phone from my pocket and turning off the power.  I caught her wrist before I spoke.
 
“What are you doing?” 
 
“Turning off your cell.  I don’t know how to turn off the alarm, so I’m just turning off the phone.”
 
“For what reason?”  She sighed before answering.
 
“I talked to Reags a few minutes ago.  She’s not ready for you to come home yet.  Apparently, she’s as pissed at you for your reaction as you are at her for her behaviour.  She said you could come home at noon.  She said to tell you she’s not ready to deal with your pissy mood until then.”  The light came on in the kitchen behind me, and I turned to see Terry making coffee.
 
“Are you implying I am not welcome in my own home until such time as she is ready to deal with me?”  Terry’s voice came from over my shoulder.
 
“That’s about the size of it, Mate.  And for the record?  It’s still her home.  The title change doesn’t go through making it yours as well until after the wedding, assuming there’s still going to be a wedding.”  Perhaps I had overreacted, and a chilling thought occurred to me.  I turned to Diana.
 
“Was she alone when you spoke with her?”  I did not miss the look that passed between Terry and Diana before she replied.
 
“No, she wasn’t.”
 
“Who was with her?”
 
“Her therapist …Gordon somebody.”  A man.  I searched my memory for knowledge of him, finding little.  I had never met the man, though I knew they were friends as well as having a client-therapist relationship.  Had he ever been her lover?
 
“I surmise he will be there until shortly before my return.”
 
“That would be correct.” 
 
“Do you know this man?”
 
“I’ve never met him …I do know that he’s gay.”  May the Gods be thanked.
 
 
DIANA
“I do know that he’s gay.”  Max relaxed visibly when I said that.  Geeze, after all that blowing last night, was he now that worried about having upset Reags?  Did he think she’d run into the open arms of the first man who walked past?  Surely not.  He’s got to be more self-confident than that.  The argument must have been a good deal more serious than I’d thought last night if he was worried about her hopping into bed with some other man.  I gave myself a mental shake and returned my attention to the question he was asking.
 
“May I borrow one of your horses?  I think a morning ride would go far toward settling my humours.”
 
“Sure.  Take Honey or Gaydrean.  Your choice, and you know where everything is.”  He nodded to Terry and walked out the back door.  Terry put his arm around my waist, and we watched Max go over the fence and toward the barn.  I shook my head as I turned to look up at him.
 
“Do you think one of them is going to leave home and come here every time they get into it?”
 
“Fuck if I know.  I do know they’re two of the more hard-headed people I’ve ever encountered, so it’s possible.  Guess we’ll just have to be sure the bed in the guest room is always ready.”  I was beginning to feel sorry for any kids they might have unless they both learned to blink.
 
 
MAXIMUS
I saddled Honey and walked her outside the barn before mounting, turning her toward the far paddock.  I allowed her to walk at her own pace for a time, both of us enjoying the sunrise and the coolness of the early morning.  As it was only late September, the temperature would likely rise into the 90s by mid-day.  Honey stopped and lowered her head, nibbling at the sweet clover growing in abundance, a soft purple carpet beneath her feet.  I heard a shriek, following by a snarling, spitting sound.  One of the many bobcats in the area had found his breakfast.  Honey shied at the sound, and I stroked her neck, speaking softly to calm her before turning her head and taking her the opposite direction.
 
Once well away from the house, I moved her into a trot over the low, rolling terrain, bending low over her neck as she jumped a fallen log.  Diana is of the opinion that Honey requires working more than the other horses in the herd and has said she needs to ‘acquire manners.’  On prior occasions when I have ridden her, I have not observed anything requiring correction.  Honey is a solid mount and well trained.  Perhaps she behaves differently when her rider is a man, rather than a woman.  I reined her in as we approached a small pond, and dismounted, allowing her to drink, squatting beside her and splashing water onto my face.  I sat on my haunches and looked about.  The sun was fully up now, and the morning’s dew rapidly disappearing.  Picking up Honey’s reins, I turned her toward the tree line from whence we had come and started back to Diana’s.  I had taken time to think and at last sorted through my thoughts.
 
It was not so much anger that had fuelled my outburst the previous night, as fear.  Fear of losing Cassandra to a mad man, fear I might never have seen her again.  Worse yet had been the fear of enduring the remainder of my days in this life without her presence at my side.  I thought back on our malentendus last year on the day she thought she might have conceived our child, and her position that we should live together for at least a year prior to considering marriage.  Had I pressed her too soon to accept my suit?  No.  Had she been unwilling to accept my proposal of marriage and my ring, she would have rejected both.  We had lived together for more than a year, and each had made many adjustments in order to accommodate the other. 
 
I acknowledge that I am somewhat jealous, though she has never given me reason.  I am also rather possessive of her; at times, that sense of possession extends to attempts to control her behaviour.  I recalled her words at the Mena House last summer and smiled at the memory.  She is most high-spirited.  I had seen her composure when we rescued Veronica, and her calm demeanour when Terry had been injured.  She is the most self-assured woman I have ever known.  My rational mind acknowledged she would have carefully thought through her behaviour of yesterday whilst mentioning it to no one.  She knew they would have exerted all due pressure in inducing her to change her mind.  I would learn to read her better as time passed, as she would me.  I remounted Honey, and we returned to Diana’s house.  I smiled as I realised that raising a child or children with Cassandra would likely call forth additional displays of temper in both of us.  I left Diana’s shortly after 1100 and made my way home, stopping at Appletree Flowers to obtain a peace offering.
 
 
REAGAN
Gordon had listened patiently as I ranted my way through my list of grievances the night before, and by breakfast I’d calmed down considerably.  I knew Maximus’ reaction was borne of fear.  I’d have reacted in precisely the same manner had the situation been reversed.  In fact, I was now getting pissed at his agreeing to find Khan and dispose of him for whoever the Hell it was that had kidnapped him.  Had he lost his mind?  There was no way he’d not have been caught.  No one is good enough to leave no evidence behind, not in this day of forensic science, and he’d have been charged with first-degree homicide.  In Texas, that spells either life in prison without possibility of parole or death by lethal injection.  What the Hell was he thinking?  It was when I voiced those observations that Gordon smiled and said I was reacting the same way Maximus had to my little adventure.  Oh.  Well, there is that.  He left at ten, and I took a long, hot shower – the Hell with keeping the incision dry – changed the dressing on the wound after pouring hydrogen peroxide over it and blotting it dry, and got dressed.  I was limping a bit, though not much as the hot water in the shower helped a great deal in relaxing the musculature, and I’d start exercising the leg later today.  The pain had subsided to a dull ache that could easily be controlled with a couple of aspirin.  I stuck the bottle of prescription Vicodin on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet and pushed it to the back.  I didn’t need it now, but it’s always good to have a prescription pain killer handy in case of a badly pulled back muscle.
 
I wandered into the lounge and put a couple of CDs into the player – sound tracks – and went to the kitchen to make something for lunch.  I’d fed Gordon but hadn’t joined him at breakfast and doubted Maximus had eaten at Dee and Terry’s.  Stoic that he is, he won’t eat when he’s angry as he believes fasting clears his thoughts.  When I’m angry, I can’t eat because it all comes right back up, so there’s no point.  I had calmed down enough this morning to be rational and was beginning to get a bit hungry.  Opening the ‘fridge, I stood there and looked for a moment before removing things for a salad, along with mayonnaise and capers.  We’d have a Greek salad and chicken salad with capers and call it done until dinner time.  Maximus likes both, and I had a bottle of white Rioja in the ‘fridge.  Setting everything on the counter, I turned and went back to the bedroom, undressed, and started over.
 
When I’d dressed a bit earlier, I’d put on white underwear, a loose pullover, and desert BDU pants, the latter because they’re loose and wouldn’t press on my leg; I also love all the pockets in BDUs, as they negate the necessity for me to carry a handbag.  I’d put the BDUs on again but changed into a set of pale green underwear, spritzed on a bit of Chanel 19, and switched the original pullover for a soft, clingy green top that moulded to my body.  Turning to look in the mirror, I thought about effect.  Okay, so camouflage combat pants aren’t most people’s definition of sexy, but they were the best I could manage just now.  The top looked okay with them, and said ‘I’m not giving in totally but will admit that perhaps my behaviour was just the teensiest bit ill advised.’  At least I hoped that’s what it said.  Even as angry as I’d been at Maximus last night, I certainly wasn’t ready to give up on him, our relationship, or our coming marriage, and prayed he felt as I did.  I suppose all couples periodically get on each other’s last nerve and blow up.  My problem is that I blow up and seem always to have to get in the last word; God knows Dee has told me that often enough.  That isn’t one of my more becoming character traits, and one I resolve to work on in the future.  If – when – we have a child or children, that behaviour won’t work with them any better than it has with Maximus.  I’m an adult.  I can admit that I have flaws; if I work at it, I can surmount them to some degree.  Today was the day to start. 
 
The Greek salad was done and in the ‘fridge; I was chopping the chicken breast when the doorbell rang.  Who was it, and how fast could I get rid of them?  I washed my hands and headed for the door, checking through the peephole before opening it.  Maximus.  I almost broke a nail getting the deadbolt thrown.  Seems as if I’d done that before.
 
“Maximus!  Why did you ring the bell?”  He looked down at his boots for a moment, then back up at me as one huge hand emerged from behind his back with a beautiful spray of autumn flowers.
 
“I was unsure as to your reception.  Until I knew I would not be met with the muzzle of my own sidearm, I deemed it prudent to leave my key in my pocket.”  I felt the tears pool in my eyes.
 
“Oh, Maximus.  You left before I could even apologise for upsetting you, and then I got angry because you left.  I called Gordon – he was my therapist years ago – and he came over and spent most of the night talking me down.”  By that time we were in the kitchen, and he placed the flowers on the counter before drawing me into his arms and holding me close.
 
“As did Terry and Diana, with me.  This morning I had a long ride and spoke with Honey.  Horses listen amazingly well and make no comments or judgments.  They are very intelligent animals.”  I laughed, and so did he.  I looked up at him, motioning to the chicken on the cutting board.
 
“Are you hungry?  I ….”  His lips next to mine stopped my words.
 
“Not for food.”
 
 
MAXIMUS
I allowed her time to put the chicken into a bowl and place it in the refrigerator, lest the dogs get to it before picking her up and carrying her to our bed.  I put her on her feet and pulled off the loose top she wore, tossing it away as my hands returned to her body, smoothing upward from the waist of her pants over her warm skin before unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the floor.  I cupped her breasts in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden under my tongue when my lips moved to suckle her.  Her fingers fumbled at the buttons of my shirt, unbuttoning it swiftly, forcing me to release her long enough to shrug it off.  My hands went to the placket of her pants as hers did mine, though she slipped one hand inside my jeans to protect me as she ran down the zip, taking the time to stroke me firmly as she did.  I kicked out of them as she stepped out of her own garment, standing before me clad only in a pair of lacy, pale green knickers.  I knelt before her, my lips at her juncture, breathing through my mouth and inhaling her scent, her taste as it was borne on the air.  Her soft moan brought me temporarily to my senses, and I stood, pulling back the bed covers.
 
“Sit.”  I slipped my hands into the band of her knickers, skimming them down her hips before she complied.  “Lift your feet.”  I removed the flimsy garment, tossing it behind me.  I manoeuvred her to the centre of the bed and straightened, stepping out of my briefs and joined her in bed, lying beside her.  “I spend far too much time apologising to you for having angered you.  I should spend more time in learning how not to upset you.”  Her voice was soft as she looked into my eyes.
 
“And I should spend more time learning how not to upset you.”  I cupped her face with one hand.
 
“I love you, Cassandra.  All that I am in this life, I owe to your love, your support, the comfort you bring to me.  I would be lost without you, and the thought of such loss provokes me to rage.  I will not ask you to promise you will never again behave as you did yesterday, but I do ask that you consider that without you, my life would be nothing more than a shell.  I would do nothing from that moment forward but count the days until I joined you in Elysium.”
 
“And I would do the same if I were left without you.”  I rose to my knees beside her; I made myself pause, though my cock was obscene in its eagerness for her.
 
“Can you do this now?  Will it cause you pain?”  A shake of her head, and I moved down the bed, parting her legs and moving between them.  “I must taste you again …I have dreamt of this for weeks.”  Her soft ‘yes’ was as an answered prayer.  I lay with my head on her belly for a moment, feeling her softness before lifting her injured leg and placing it over my shoulder before kissing her nether lips.  I felt her shudder as my tongue sought her bud; her hands moved to grip my head, holding me where she wanted.  She was sweet and fresh, an odour of fresh berries from her soap mixing with the scent of an aroused woman.  I sucked lightly before applying my tongue.  I felt her growing arousal and continued my attentions until she shuddered her release.  I moved above her, stroking myself through her wetness before sinking deep inside her.  Her voice was husky, with a hint of unshed tears as I began to move.
 
“I have waited so long for you ….”  As had I, for her.
 
*
 
I slept only a short time and on waking lay beside her, watching her as she slept.  Her hand moved to the wound on her leg several times, as if to rub it; on each occasion, I caught it and held it in my own until she quieted.  Afternoon moved into dusk, and into nightfall.  At last she stirred into waking and reached for me.  I took her seeking hand and turned on the bedside lamp with the other before looking at her.  She smiled softly in the light.
 
“You’re really here …you aren’t a dream.”
 
“I am here, and no dream that vanishes with the morning’s mist.”  Her hand came up to caress my face, and I covered it with my own.  “Are you angry with me?”  Her eyebrow shot toward her hairline.
 
“Angry?  Why would I be angry with you?”
 
“For having been so unguarded as to allow myself to be abducted.”  I pushed myself to a sitting position with the pillow behind me and she did the same before answering.
 
“Damascus isn’t a city known for abductions in recent times.  You had no reason to think you might be in danger.  Did you notice anything prior to being taken that indicated you might be a target?”  I shook my head in the negative.
 
“Nothing.  I was not aware of anyone having followed me at any time or of being observed.  They were good, Cassandra, very good.  I had no notion that I was being watched, saw no hint of danger.”  I looked at her for a moment before continuing.
 
“Clearly, the same conditions do not apply to you.  You knew Khan was after you, yet you put yourself in his hands.”  She started to speak, and I held up one hand, silently asking her to let me continue.  “I realise that you sought to protect Diana, as well as a child he might have taken, but that does not obviate the fact that your behaviour yesterday was unwise, reckless in the extreme.” 
 
“I was armed.  I didn’t take any unnecessary risks.” 
 
“You took an appalling risk simply by deviating from the route Ackerman and Wesley expected and moving away from those charged with your protection.  Think what they would have felt, had you been killed.  Ackerman and Wesley would never have forgiven themselves, nor would Terry and Dino.  Your behaviour was foolish in the extreme.  As for myself …I truly do not know what I would have done should Khan have been successful with his knife.  Must I keep you chained to my body in order to protect you from yourself?”  She smiled, and I should have foreseen her response.
 
“No, chaining me to your body isn’t that good an idea, but you might want to consider chaining me to the bed for a couple of days ….”  Her ability to make a man forget both his fears and his anger is unprecedented in my experience.
 
 
TERRY
I looked at Diana as she sat beside me on the couch.  “Did you have any idea of what Reags was planning to do yesterday?”  She shook her head.
 
“Absolutely none.  I can’t imagine why she’d do something that harebrained though she does act like a grumpy mama bear when she thinks someone is out to hurt me.”  She looked at me, shaking her head again before speaking.  “Think they’ve killed each other yet?”  I looked across the room at the clock.  It was almost nine in the evening; neither of them had called or tried to beat down the door.
 
“Not unless they’ve rooted each other to death …which isn’t a half-bad way to go, now that I think on it.”  We laughed all the way to bed.
 
 
MAXIMUS
We had been talking for hours.  She knew all that had transpired during my captivity; I knew what had taken place in her heart and mind during my absence.  She looked at me, her face as sombre as ever I had seen it.
 
“I have to know something, Maximus.”
 
“Ask it.”
 
“Would you have killed Khan if you’d had the opportunity?”  I smiled, thinking back in time.
 
“I had the opportunity, Cara, many times over.  He was not a careful man.”
 
“But you didn’t take any of them …why not?”
 
“Do you recall the discussions we had last year …the night I told you of my past life, and the talk among the five of us prior to our visit to the Barracks?”  She nodded.
 
“Of course I do.”
 
“Do you recall what I said regarding the taking of Commodus’ hand, the comments I made regarding virtue?”  She nodded.
 
“You spoke of honour, of duty …and the fact that upholding your sense of both at that time cost you your life.  It was implicit that it cost you Ileana and Marcus.  You paid dearly for being a virtuous man.”
 
“Whilst my sense of honour or duty has not changed, the manner in which I apply those virtues has altered over time.”  She tilted her head to one side, watching me.  “I would not have killed Khan; I had numerous opportunities, and did not take them.  It was my intention either to catch him in his attempt to abduct you or to take him in his efforts to abduct another child.  Either would have ensured his arrest; I would have presented the facts I know of him to the police.  I knew that you would offer the authorities the files you had on him.  I told my captors I would kill him, as I knew without doubt those words would assure my release.  Once free, it did not matter that I had lied; the end would justify the means of achieving it.”  She laid her hand alongside my face, smiling before she spoke.
 
“Welcome to the 21st century, Caro.”
 
 
Finis



NOTES
Causatum Excuse or reason; to plead a cause
PA Public Address system
The bullet Data one needs immediately in order to proceed appropriately, commonly used in medical/health care settings.
180 ml Roughly three-quarters of a cup, liquid measure.  The exact liquid measure is 177.44 millilitres (ml).
Ringers’ Lactated Ringers’ Solution is commonly given for blood loss until such time as blood can be typed and cross-matched, as it keeps the patient from going into shock from loss of fluids.
Baby Dino’s beloved Ferrari Daytona Spyder
BDUs Battle Dress Uniform, commonly referred to as ‘fatigues.’
Animalis A beast or brute
Bestiae            A beast, an animal of prey, particularly in the arena.
Sileo Be silent; be quiet; do not speak
IED Improvised Explosive Device …a roadside bomb.




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