Eric was truly horrified to hear Krysta tell the story of her life since she was sixteen years old. Arguments with parents over her sexual identity. Ran away. Fell in with drug addicts and prostitutes. Took up hooking to pay for her drug habit. Met Chastity.
He seemed to get the idea that maybe Kathryn had emerged briefly to take the scared teenager Krysta was under her wing, then reverted back to Chastity.
Krysta also told Eric about her involvement with the American Republic Movement, and that she started to think that everyone associated with it, from Chastity on down were bordering on lunacy.
"Perhaps that's why Kathryn is trying to take back her own self," Eric said; "She sees what Chastity is trying to do and wants nothing to do with it."
"I don't believe in the group's ideals, Eric," Krysta said; "And I certainly don't believe that eliminating three people is going to make the group's goal any easier to achieve. If anything, knowing the reputations of 'The Triad', will make the objective harder to obtain, but you can't tell Chastity or her deputies that."
"You had it right as far as them being crazy is concerned," Eric said; "but what I don't understand is why you stay on with them knowing this?"
"It's all a ruse, Eric," Krysta said; "If the man who appointed himself as the leader in Chastity's absense found out I was faking it, as sure as I stand here, he'd kill me. So I became the press liaison. My job is to make the group look good, but I want out badly. And I want to take Kathryn with me."
Eric didn't doubt that Krysta wanted to be free of the group, but she wasn't sure how to go about it. He did sense that Krysta was quite intelligent and with more schooling, she could do anything she wanted. He knew that with an eleventh grade education, jobs would be next to impossible for Krysta to find.
He thought about telling Krysta about the fact that he wasn't Kathryn's biological father, but he wanted to be able to trust her completely and without question. He decided to wait. Instead he asked,
"Krysta, what can I do to help you get away from these people?"
"I don't know what, if anything, you can do," Krysta said; "Clayton Pollard will have me hunted down and killed if I defect."
"Then we'll just have to eliminate this Clayton Pollard," Eric said.
"The thing about Pollard is," Krysta said, "is that he acts first and doesn't plan. He's vain enough to think that he can just go and do a job and get it over with. But he got shot the last time he tried that. Did he learn from it? Hell, no! He's planning a trip to Chicago soon to eliminate one of The Triad; that is, after he rapes the man's daughter and kills his 15 year old son."
"He's a fucking monster, Krysta!" Eric exclaimed. "There must be a way to stop him."
"The daughter is a college student at Georgetown, and she's quite proficient with weapons, survival tactics, and martial arts. Pollard seems to think that he can do what he pleases," Krysta said; "I think he's full of shit."
"What about the 15 year old boy?" asked Eric; "Why does Pollard want to kill him?"
"As a warning to the boy's father to back off," Krysta said; "Pollard already tried to kill the boy once, about a year ago, but he survived. Pollard seems to think that now, the boy is an easy target."
"If he's got the same skills as his sister, Pollard probably doesn't stand a chance," Eric said.
"Except the boy was seriously injured and is undergoing intense physical therapy," Krysta said; "Pollard want to take advantage of the boy's weakness."
"And their father," Eric said, "is whom?"
"Nik San Marco."
Eric wasn't surprised to hear that name. He knew that San Marco was one of the people who brought down his mother's presidency and dismantled the Committee. Personally, he wanted to shake the man's hand.
"That doesn't really surprise me, Krysta," Eric said; "Nikolai San Marco wields some serious power. The rest of this so called 'Triad' are Jeremiah Donovan and Julia Terranova, isn't it?"
"Yes," Krysta said; "Julia's last name for the last seventeen years has been Summers, though. They got a lot of assistance from an assassin named Vixen Vincent, who is San Marco's biological sister. They had been separated most of his life, because of the Occupational government. Vixen is now known as Natasha Vincent."
"And Vincent isn't being targeted?" asked Eric.
"She is, but she's not nearly as important to A.R.M. as the other three," Krysta said.
"I want to be able to help end this group's plans for 'The Triad'," Eric said; "I was a very vocal opponent of my mother's Presidency, and purposely distanced myself and my family from her when Kathryn was still an infant. Even my father eventually filed for divorce, but died before it was finalized."
"I certainly could use your legal expertise, Eric," said Krysta. "I know I can't do this on my own. My only concerns are for your safety and Kathryn's safety."
"I can defend myself, Krysta," Eric said; "Kathryn's somewhere safe, and I'll make arrangements at some point to bring her home. But these people you're involved with must be stopped. You have to find a way to leave."
He took Krysta into his arms and held her for a long while. No one will hurt you, my beauty, Eric swore to her in his thoughts; you have my word.
Jack got up early to do the chores around the ranch, then came inside to start the Thanksgiving dinner. He had ordered a twenty-five pound turkey from a store out in town and got enough of the essentials to make it a feast.
Tripod wandered out of the bedroom to nice smells coming from the kitchen. He whined and barked waiting for Jack to throw him something.
"Shh, boy," Jack admonished the dog, "you'll wake everyone up with that barking of yours."
As Jack was preparing the stuffing to put inside the bird, Rachel wandered out, and yawning, asked,
"Why are you making Thanksgiving dinner so early?"
Jack looked at the petite eight year old as she rubbed her eyes. He said,
"Because I got a big turkey and it'll take a while for it to cook."
"Oh," Rachel said. "Can I help with something?"
Jack thought about it for a moment, then said, "You can peel the potatoes so someone can mash them later."
"Okay," Rachel said; "Let me go get dressed first, okay?"
"Hurry up there, Rachel, I don't have all day," Jack teased; "I know how you and your sisters operate now."
Rachel ran off to get dressed, and on the way ran into Jaime. Literally ran into her.
"Oww, Rach," Jaime said; "What's your hurry?"
"I'm going to get dressed so I can help Jack with Thanksgiving dinner."
Jaime looked at her watch, saying, "It's only 6am, Rach!"
"He got a big turkey and it takes a while for it to cook," Rachel said; "there are a lot of us, you know."
Jaime headed back to their bedroom and got dressed as well. She wasn't sleeping anyway because Tripod was barking.
Once the girls were dressed, they went out to the kitchen where Jack put them both to work; Rachel with the potatoes, and Jaime with the carrots and celery that would be in the stuffing that was not being put in the bird.
One by one, the rest of the household awakened and wandered into the living room. Julia was the last to get up. By that time, Miri was making breakfast.
"You want eggs, Mom?" she asked.
"Sure," Julia said; "Scrambled as usual."
"But that's so boring, Mom," Miri said. "Can't I make eggs for you some other way just this once?"
"Scrambled, as usual, Miri," said Julia; "Please?"
Miri only sighed to herself and set about to making scrambled eggs for her mother, along with wheat toast and orange juice.
But before Miri was finished making it, Julia had fallen asleep on the couch.
"Mom? Breakfast."
Julia didn't even stir.
"Mom?" asked Miri.
Jack looked over and saw Julia was sleeping. "I'll take her back to bed," he said. "She didn't sleep well last night."
"I'll eat Mom's breakfast, Miri," Zach said; "No use it letting it go to waste."
Miri set the plate in front of her brother, poured the orange juice, then helped Jack get her mother back to bed.
"Why didn't she sleep well, Jack?" asked Miri.
"Her shoulder was bothering her," Jack said; "I asked if she wanted any pain medication, but she said no. She thinks she's being tough, but I know she's hurting."
"Maybe she should go back to Denver and talk to the surgeon," Miri said.
"I think Julia's going to contact him through your Uncle Nik," Jack said; "This is the second night she hasn't slept well."
Miri was surprised that her mother was having trouble sleeping. In her experience, her mother was always a light sleeper. That pain was keeping her from sleeping was something new. Why doesn't she just take the damn pain killers? Miri asked herself; It's not like she needs to get up early for anything lately. There was plenty of time for that.
Still, Miri worried about it.
II
Kimber had arrived in Austin the night before Thanksgiving and her brother Sam came to pick her up. They went back to the house and Kimber slept in her old bedroom.
She slept late. So late that her mother had to come in and wake her.
"Kimber," Jordan said; "time to get up."
"In a minute, okay Mom?"
"Sweetheart, it's nearly noon. Your sister and Drake will be here soon," Jordan said.
Kimber sat straight up in bed, saying, "Noon?! Mom why didn't you wake me sooner?"
"We figured you were tired, Kimberlin," said Jordan, not understanding Kimber's panic. "You're not late for anything."
Kimber momentarily felt foolish. In her semi-awake state, she thought she was late for either class or work.
"Sorry, Mom," Kimber said sheepishly, "too much going on in my head, I guess."
Jordan totally understood. She'd been there far too many times.
"Mom, I'll get dressed and be right down, okay?" said Kimber. "I don't want the first time I've seen my sister in three years find me looking like death warmed over."
"Okay, Kimber, I'll see you downstairs in a few," Jordan said; "Oh, did you want breakfast, or do you want to skip straight to lunch?"
"I'd kill for waffles, Mom," Kimber said.
"Waffles it is, then," said Jordan as she left Kimber's bedroom.
Kimber got up, showered, and got dressed.
She was so happy to be home. And to see Niki for the first time since Kimber had left to attend Northwestern three years before made it even better. Even though she had been warned that Niki looked different, it didn't matter. They'd beat Niki's leukemia together; Niki through medicine and Kimber through writing about it. Niki would get well, Kimber decided, because she couldn't imagine losing her sister forever.
In fact, it scared her to death.
Eric allowed Krysta to sleep while he prepared the Thanksgiving dinner that he originally planned for him and Kelly. Since he had called Kelly and told her of the snowstorm that had unexpectedly moved into the area, and suggested she not try to fly home, he still had everything to make dinner. He was thankful that he didn't have to spend it alone after all.
About three hours later, Krysta came into the kitchen after her nap and asked Eric if there was anything she could do to help.
"Do you like candied yams, Krysta? Could you mash the yams for me?" Eric asked.
"I haven't had them in years," Krysta said; "I could make them for you. I think I still remember how to prepare them."
"I have a recipe if you need guidance," Eric said; "Kelly can make them in her sleep."
"Anything else I can help you with?"
Eric thought about that for a moment, then said,
"Maybe fix the salad, but that can wait until everything else is almost ready to serve."
Krysta smiled. "I better get busy with those yams then," she said.
"That can wait a minute, Krysta," said Eric. He then leaned in to kiss her, and she responded to him.
He held her close to him when their kiss was over and felt her trembling. "What's wrong, Krysta?" he asked her gently.
She didn't answer right away, and when she did, it was a wordless vocalization. He kept holding her, stroking her hair, until she stopped trembling.
"Oh, my beauty," he whispered to her, "I won't let anyone hurt you, because if they do, they'll have to deal with me. Let me be your protector, Krysta."
Krysta nodded against Eric's chest. She realized that she had never felt as safe as she did in Eric's arms, and that he would be a man of his word.
"Cameron," Kathryn said when the psychotherapist came to see her, "where's Krysta. She said she'd only be gone a day or two."
"I talked to her last night, Kathryn Marie," Cameron said; "She went to visit your father and that storm that's was supposed to come in tonight came in last night. Your father offered her a place to stay until the roads could be cleared."
"I hope Dad wasn't mad that Krysta came to visit without calling first," Kathryn said. "Dad always hated unexpected guests."
"Krysta told me that your father was very kind in offering her a place to stay until the storm passed," Cameron said; "She hoped that the roads could be cleared by tonight or tomorrow so she can return."
"I like Krysta," Kathryn said; "I hope she's not gone too much longer."
"I don't think she will be, Kathryn Marie," Cameron said.
"Why aren't you spending Thanksgiving with your family, Cameron?" asked Kathryn.
"My children are grown with children of their own," Cameron said; "You know that, Kathryn Marie."
"What about your husband?"
Cameron had to explain to Kathryn, again, that the Occupational government murdered her husband twenty years before when their children were in grade school. It was something that Cameron didn't want to talk about.
"I'm sorry," Kathryn said; "I keep forgetting."
Cameron told Kathryn that it was okay to forget sometimes, but that it was an issue she didn't want to talk about.
But her professional instincts told her that Chastity must be trying to make herself known again. Cameron thought that the Chastity alter was one of the most stubborn she'd ever worked with. She understood why Kathryn wanted to "kill" Chastity.
Cameron took her leave after a while and headed back to her office and locked the door. Out of her desk drawer she removed a framed picture and looked at it.
It was her wedding portrait with her late husband, a handsome and intelligent Asian American named David. They had three children together before he was arrested by the New Army and tortured to death. Cameron didn't even have his body to bury. Just her memories of their life together was all that she was left with. Her children were grown and blessed her with grandchildren who never know about the bravery their grandfather showed in the face of injustice.
Cameron Chang then put her head down on her desk and cried.
"Katie?"
"Hmmm, Nikky."
"Why are you so good to me?" asked Nik.
"Because you're Nik and I love you." replied KateLynn.
It was not often that both Nik and KateLynn slowed down enough to have time alone. So laying in bed together after their two remaining sons went to bed was a special treat.
After Daniel was born, Nik and KateLynn decided their family was complete and both underwent sterilization. Their sex life since then had been a new and exciting experience.
And that's what they had been doing in the early morning hours of Thanksgiving morning.
"Other than that," Nik said.
"Because you're a wonderful husband and father; because you're working hard to protect us; because after all this time and all we've been through together, you're still the hottest guy around," KateLynn said.
"God, Katie," Nik said as he drew her to him, "you make me feel like I'm 17 again."
"Good..." KateLynn purred; "then I've done my job. You still make me feel the way I did about you when we first met. Take me, Nikolai..."
And that's just what he did.
"Mom? Dad? We're here..." Niki called out.
But, instead of one or both of her parents, Kimber came out to the foyer.
"Kimber!" Niki said, excited to see her sister. "When did you get here?" She gave her sister a hug that lasted more than a few seconds.
"Late last night," Kimber said; "I've only been awake about an hour." Kimber looked at Drake and said, "You must be Drake. I'm Kimber." She offered her hand for him to shake. "It's nice to finally meet you in person!"
"Niki's been really excited to see you, Kimber," Drake said; "It's nice to meet you as well."
"Where's Mom and Dad?" asked Niki.
"Trying to make something resembling Thanksgiving dinner," Kimber said, "but it seems that John is doing all the work."
"Where's Sam?"
"He was taking a shower the last I heard," Kimber said. "Come inside and get comfy. I think Mom's making a snack tray."
Niki and Drake followed Kimber into the living room to still on the couches. Once seated, Niki wanted to hear about James, Kimber's boyfriend of four months.
"What haven't I told you yet, Niki?" laughed Kimber; "We talk every week! James is a nice guy and we enjoy each other's company. We're taking our time with things. We do work together, you know."
"He's not a student?" asked Drake.
"He graduated last spring and works full time at the paper as an assignment editor," Kimber said; "He's almost five years older than I am."
"Doesn't the paper discourage employees dating?" asked Niki.
"Not really. I mean, there isn't a policy or anything," Kimber said; "The way my editor put it is that we're both adults and are expected to act as such."
"So you asked about the policy, or the lack of one, then?" asked Niki.
"Yeah. When we realized that we were getting serious, we both decided to look into it," Kimber said.
"How serious is serious?" asked Niki. "Moving in together serious? Keys to each other's places serious? Sleeping together serious?"
"Niki!" said Drake; "Maybe Kimber doesn't want to get that personal yet!"
Kimber laughed, saying, "Drake, this is how we talk to each other. Believe me, I did it to her, too, when I wanted to know more about you."
"Ah, so girl talk, eh?" Drake said; "Maybe I'll wander into the kitchen and chat up your folks. I got to do something with this wine we brought."
"Dad will like that," Kimber said.
Drake went off to the kitchen where he encountered not only John, but David and Jordan, too.
David shook the younger man's hand. "So, are the girls playing catch up?" he asked.
"If that's what you want to call their conversation, David, then, yes," Drake said; "to me, it's just sister talk."
David looked out the kitchen door at his daughters talking. This is so good to see, he thought.
"What are they doing, David?" asked Jordan.
"Yakking each other's ears off by the looks of it, Jord," David said; "Just like when they were little girls."
Jordan then took a peek and saw what her husband had seen. Their daughters talking, in person, as if their stupid argument and the three years they didn't speak never happened.
It's going to be a good holiday, she thought.
The news doesn't stop, not even for Thanksgiving. There was still crime, weather, sports and local events that happen, holiday or no.
This was where Jeremiah was during the early morning hours. Actually in the Times-Tribune building with just enough of a crew to make sure that the paper was posted online before most people awoke for the day.
He was the managing editor that morning, a position he shared with three other people. He was the one who made sure the stories were accuate and posted in the format that the paying subscribers expected.
The paper hadn't printed an actual hardcopy edition in nearly thirty years. The paper, in its current incarnation as an online only publication, was result of a merger during the Occupation of the two main newspapers that had been part of Chicago's history for one hundred years before the merger.
This kind of work was something that Jeremiah Donovan dreamed about his entire life. His first paying job as a reporter was for a Disturbed Ones publication called The Call. He was sixteen years old. Most of his stories were on the events happening on the Compound. He loved the work so much that when he went to college, first to Yale, then Northwestern, he majored in online journalism and social media. His job with The Call was for pocket money. With his degrees, it helped support his family.
"Jere, come take a look at this before we hit the 'publish' button," one of the senior management said.
He went over to the computer where the day's edition was ready to be posted. Jeremiah saw nothing wrong with the final edition as he scanned it page by page. Then he got to the obituaries.
It was in that section that Jeremiah saw something that should not have been there. That alone would hold up the publication of the edition until it had been printed out and offending content removed.
"What the fuck?" Jeremiah said aloud. "Is this someone's sick idea of a joke?"
"What is it, Jere?" the senior manager asked.
"I know she's in bed sleeping, so this can't be so. Like I said, Dave, it's someone's sick idea of a joke."
Dave read it and got the gist of what Jeremiah was saying.
"Follow procedure and reformat this page," Dave barked at the computer operators "pasting" the page together. To Jeremiah, he said,
"Man, I'm really sorry about this. Someone should have caught this!"
"I know of the group that may be behind this, Dave," Jeremiah said. "Someone who works here is affiliated with this group. I've been preparing an expose' about them for months now, and this is just another one of their tactics. They're trying to distract me from either the expose', from pursuing them, or both. But this is just sick."
"Agreed," Dave said.
Jeremiah stayed until the new page was completed, then headed home. The one question that ran through his mind was: Who in the hell would target an eight year old girl?
III
"Hey, beautiful, it's almost turkey time," Jack said softly to Julia as she slept.
Her eyes opened slowly and looked at Jack as they adjusted to the light. "Hi," she said groggily.
"Hi yourself," replied Jack; "The kids are almost done with the pies, stuffing, potatoes, and other stuff; the turkey has about an hour or so to go. Think you can make it?"
"Yeah," said Julia; "Sorry I fell asleep on ya. My shoulder is killin' me."
"You might need to take some of that pain medication again so you can sleep at night and not nod off during the day," Jack suggested.
"I think Miri said something very similar," said Julia; "but I don't really remember."
"She did, but you were already half asleep when I carried you in here," said Jack.
"Oh."
Julia got off the bed and slipped her shoes back on and went out to the living room, where the older kids were still working on their part of the dinner. Rachel was asleep on the couch.
"Poor baby," Julia said as she brushed back a strand of Rachel's copper locks away from her forehead; "she got up too early, didn't she?"
"I think so," Jack said.
"Rachel was done with her part of the dinner, so I told her to lay down on the couch," Miri said; "She was up before everyone but Jack."
"I know how she feels," Julia said. "I'm looking forward to dinner. Sorry I wasn't much help."
"Don't worry about it, Mom," Zach said; "We got it covered."
Julia laughed. Ryan used to say something very similar. She smiled at the memory.
Soon, the turkey was done and the family gathered around the table. Grace was said and Jack started serving everyone.
As he was passing plates back and forth to the people at the table, he briefly wondered if he'd even still be alive a year from now. After today, he thought, I'll sit Julia down and tell her about my illness. I owe her that.
Aaliyah awoke from a sound sleep and felt an unfamiliar presence in her bedroom. She expected to be scared, but she felt more anger than anything else.
She could barely make out a shadow near her bedroom door as it moved across her bedroom. Who is that and what are they doing in my room? Aaliyah asked herself. She knew it wasn't either of her parents or older siblings.
Aaliyah reached behind the headboard where it met her mattress. Stored in the space was a .357 Magnum that her father let her practice with. It was loaded, Aaliyah knew, because she had loaded it herself after using it for practice.
Its weight felt good in her hand, and she silently pulled it from its hiding place and put it under her pillow until she needed it.
She heard the person breathing hard, as if he had run a long distance. She knew it was a man just by the way he breathed. It was one of the first things Aunt Julia had taught her and Rachel, even before they picked up a firearm for the first time.
Aaliyah felt the man come closer to her bed. Under the pillow, she released the safety and cocked the gun. As the man began to climb on her bed, she sat up in bed suddenly, pointing the weapon at the intruder, asking,
"Who are you and what do you want?"
The intruder fell backward off the bed onto the floor, he was so startled that this little girl was pointing a gun at him.
Aaliyah got out of bed and continued to point the weapon at the man now laying on the floor. She repeated her question,
"Who are you and what do you want?"
Finding his voice, the man sneered, "I came for you Aaliyah."
"I don't think so, buddy," Aaliyah said in a voice that seemed to come from deep inside her. "You're not taking me anywhere."
"Who's going to stop me?"
"I am," Aaliyah said.
The man laughed, saying, "You think so, do you? I can pick you up right now and walk out of the house with you, and there isn't a God damned thing you can do about it, little girl."
"Wanna bet?"
"I don't make bets with little girls," the intruder said; "you probably can't even shoot the gun you're holding."
"You want to take a chance I don't know how?" asked Aaliyah.
"Sure, because you're a little girl with a pain in the ass father who won't let us do what we need to do," the intruder said. "Jeremiah Donovan is going to have one less daughter to worry about."
Just then, Aaliyah fired the gun. The bullet found its way into the man's chest.
She could hear footsteps running up the hall.
As the Draiman family sat down to Thanksgiving dinner, David said,
"It's so nice to have Kimber here with us this year. Your mother and I are thrilled that you could come."
"Thanks, Dad," Kimber said.
David continued, "And we hope to see more of you, so don't hole up in Chicago and forget about us here."
"Dad!"
David shook off Kimber's protestations and continued,
"Before we dig in to this wonderful bounty, I have some questions. First, is anyone pregnant." He looked at Kimber as he said this.
"Or got someone pregnant?" David looked at his sons.
"Or got married?" His gaze was on Niki and Drake.
David saw the shocked looks on the faces of his children, then looked over to Jordan and winked, then said,
"Many years ago, someone who is not at this table and her fiance decided to tell the entire family at Thanksgiving dinner that they had gotten married several months before. So does anyone have any, um, surprises for me and your mother today?"
All four Draiman children looked at each other, and their parents. Niki looked at Drake, and she seemed to think he was amused by all this.
"If no one has anything to say, then let's eat," David said; "I'm fuckin' starving here!"
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