Jamey looked at Kimber and asked, "What the fucking hell went on here?"
"He wanted information about where Julia is, and I honestly don't know," Kimber said; "All I know is that she's not in Illinois."
"Was he going to hurt you?" asked Jamey.
"I think that was his intention, but feeling crappy or not, I was not going to let that happen," Kimber said. "Julia taught both me and Niki how to defend ourselves when we were still little girls."
"Well, he certain got a surprise when you pulled that gun on him," Jamey said; "Why didn't you just shoot him?"
"I wanted him to remember not to mess with me, because he won't get a second chance to do that," Kimber said; "And I have his name, so I'm going to call Nik when we're done eating and give him a heads up that the bastard's in the area."
"Well, I did get the food," Jamey said; "Jason's a nice guy. He gave me the 'Kimberlin Terranova Special'. Whatever I wanted, made with beef, and he didn't charge me. Called it a courtesy discount. We got enough food here for an army!"
"Good, because I'm starving and I'll eat like an army," Kimber said; "My mother could never figure out how I could eat so much and still stay slim. She's struggled with her weight forever. I must have gotten it from the Draiman side of the family."
"Maybe so," Jamey said; he then took Kimber into his arms and held her. He didn't like to think that some asswipe from the past could take his girl away as an act of revenge against the Disturbed Ones from the Occupation many years before. Kimber sensed his concerns and asked,
"What's wrong, baby?"
"Nothing," Jamey lied, knowing that Kimber knew it; "Just a bit concerned for your safety."
"I might not be a trained killer like Julia, Jamey," Kimber said; "But she did teach us about guns and self defense."
"Thank God for that!" Jamey said.
The DeWitt girls sat at the kitchen table doing their homework. They had recently gone back to school after the winter break, and the older girls had complained about all the homework they had to do. Lili only had to color a picture to illustrate that she could do simple math. The answers to the math problems corresponded to the color crayon she was to use.
"I remember doing that!" Erin said; "I thought it was hard. I remember Mom helping me with it."
"Now algebra is a piece of cake, huh?" asked Helene.
"Oh, right," Erin said; "Totally chocolate cake. This stuff's hard. I mean, I get it, and I do well with it, but I don't really like it."
"You'll need it if you want to be an architect when you get out of school," Helene said; "Don't you still want to do that?"
"Yeah, but I also want to teach art to kids who wouldn't be exposed to it," Erin said. "Sometimes, I think we have it too easy. There are kids at school who aren't as fortunate as we are."
"I know that's true," Helene said; "Sometimes I hate being a rich kid. All people know about me is that Dad is wealthy. They don't want to know me for anything else. But what about the one person who might need lunch money, or a ride home, or new clothes...and don't have them because their parents don't have the money."
"I've given my snack money to a girl who didn't have enough to buy milk," Lili chimed in. "How come some people have everything and some people don't?"
"Lili, I have no idea," Helene said; "I remember Mom telling me this story about a friend of hers that got into trouble, and she helped her friend get out of trouble. When the friend wanted to thank her, Mom only told them to help someone else when they needed it."
"What can I do to help people, Helene?" asked Lili.
"Be nice to everyone," Helene said; "No matter who they are. Even to the people who aren't nice to you. Sometimes they act that way because they feel that you're better than they are. We're all the same."
"I can do that," Lili said; "I even have to be nice to boys?"
"Yes, Lili, even to boys," Erin said; "Boys are people, too, you know."
Their father came around the corner, but the girls didn't notice him because they were still talking. DeWitt listened in to their conversation and couldn't help but feel proud of his girls.
Kathryn taught them all to be nice and helpful to everyone, he thought. She must have some memory of being lost and alone after her father asked Chastity to leave.
He wanted more than anything for Kathryn to come home so they could be a family again. What was taking Cameron Chang so damn long about approving Kathryn as an outpatient? he asked himself.
"Are you ladies done with your homework?" he asked his daughters.
"Almost, Dad," Helene said. "Just finishing up."
"Me, too," Erin added.
"I'm done, Daddy," Lili said; "You want to see the picture I colored?"
She handed her picture to her father and he looked over it. All the answers were right and the puppy in the picture was all the right colors.
"Very nice, Lilibet," he said; "Now, you can go empty the trash bin in the bathrooms."
"Okay!" Lili said and headed towards the hallway.
"Erin, you have kitchen chores; Helene, after you return from ballet, you have laundry room duties," DeWitt said.
"My ride should be here soon, Dad," Helene said.
"Are you ready to go?"
"All I have to do is put on my coat and grab my dance bag," said Helene.
Just then, a horn sounded from outside.
"There's your ride now, princess," DeWitt said, kissing Helene on the forehead. "Have fun and work hard."
"I will, Dad! See you at 6:30!" And with that, Helene was gone.
Erin put her books away and went into the kitchen to clean up and empty the trash.
DeWitt sat at the table in his customary place. The chair to his left was usually empty. That was Kathryn's chair. DeWitt hoped that some day soon, she would again occupy that chair with her family.
That day was coming. DeWitt felt it in his soul.
II
Marsh is in the area, Nik said to himself as he hung up the phone after talking to Kimber about Lincoln Marsh being in her house; if I were a slimy former New Army type, where would I hide?
Nik flipped open his phone and called Jeremiah.
"Jere Donovan," the familiar, comforting voice of his brother said.
"Jere, Nik. Lincoln Marsh is in the area," Nik said. "He was just at Kimber's trying to get information from her about Julia's whereabouts."
"Shit!" Jeremiah said under his breath; "Is Kimber okay?"
"Oh, she's more than okay, brother," Nik said; "She kicked him in the nuts. He's hurting big time. Kimber told him he had 30 seconds to get out of her house or she'd shoot him. He got out, but it was a rather painful escape."
"Where could he be now?" asked Jeremiah; "Couldn't have gotten far."
"That's what I'm thinking," Nik said; "Where would a scumsucker like him hide until the pain subsided?"
"Red light district?" asked Jeremiah. "Somewhere he won't be bothered until he wanted to be."
"We should have all the low rent motels checked. Any place that would take in clientele with little money and lots of time on their hands," Nik said.
"We should tell Dixon about this," Jeremiah said; "If he's looking for Julia's whereabouts, then none of us are safe until he gets what he wants."
"You had to bring that up, didn't you?" joked Nik.
"Look, I don't care if he's banging Natasha right now, he needs to know that the leader of A.R.M. himself came a-callin'," said Jeremiah. "And Marsh probably won't stop til he gets what he wants."
"You have a sick mind, Jere, you do know that, right?" asked Nik. "All right, I'll call Dixon, and pray I'm not interrupting anything."
"And yes, I do have a dirty mind," Jeremiah said; "I don't hear Jasmine complaining about it."
"Ugh," Nik said as he closed the call, Jeremiah's laughter ringing through.
He was a one man recon unit, and his assignment was to keep his sister and her family from getting killed.
Collins-Ross was in the cheapest motel he could find. He didn't need anything special; just a place to sleep, eat, and plan his next move.
His intel from Langley indicated that the Second Occupation group had eight agents in the immediate area. Four of them were dead and probably popcicles by now, he thought; so there's four left.
Intel also indicated that Julia and her protector, John Christofferson, were going to Denver the following week, leaving the children to tend to the house and the farm animals.
I haven't seen the kids since Rachel was about two years old, he thought; I found out about Ryan after the fact, so it's been a while. If I just show up on their doorstep, is Miri going to freak out?
He knew he had to eliminate the four remaining agents before they tried to harm his nieces and nephew.
"I will not let them down," Collins-Ross growled. "Family first. Everyone else can kiss my ass."
"Jesus Christ, San Marco, please tell me you're kidding!" Dixon said as he took the call from Nik in the basement of Natasha's house.
"I wish I were kidding, Director," Nik said, "but Lincoln Marsh is in the Chicago area and threatened Kimber Draiman in her own house."
"He'll shake down anyone in your family who he sees as a weak link," Dixon said; "Not even Jeremiah's youngest daughter is safe."
"Where would someone like Marsh go if he were recouperating from being kicked in the groin, besides a hospital?" asked Nik.
"Kimber Draiman kicked Marsh in the groin?" said Dixon in surprise. "Then we might not have much to worry about. He'll want to get back to his base as soon as he can. He's probably at some dive where there are hookers and druggies. He does plenty of both according to my intel on the man."
"That's what Jeremiah and I were thinking," Nik said; "somewhere cheap where he could get his immediate needs met, or be left alone."
"He employs disguises," Dixon said; "so even though he told Kimber his real name, it might not be his real face she saw."
"Anyone walking funny wouldn't be hard to spot," said Nik; "It's gonna hurt down there for a couple of days."
"Exactly," Dixon said; "He's definitely going to be laying low."
"Should I have law enforcement looking for him?" asked Nik.
"Not an all out search, we don't want to spook him," Dixon said; "But maybe more coverage in those areas he could be in."
"I'll get on it, Director," Nik said.
"Oh, and Nik," Dixon said, changing gears, "I've asked Natasha to marry me. She said yes."
Nik couldn't say he was surprised. All he told Dixon was, "Congratulations, man! A long and happy life to you both!"
"Thanks, Nik," Dixon said before he ended the call.
Nik just looked at his phone. The Director of the CIA is going to be my brother-in-law? he asked himself.
After hearing nothing from Cameron about being able to go home and get treatment as an outpatient for several days, Kathryn found that she was getting impatient.
She worked on her drawings more often than she ever had, she noticed. Mostly out of frustration, boredom and anger. That she was feeling anger Kathryn thought was a good sign; usually anger was Chastity's domain.
Kathryn was working on a portrait of Christian, drawn from memory. The background was the living room of the highrise apartment he lived in when she entered his life. Helene was born while they lived there. They had moved into a small house about five miles away shortly before Erin was born. When the girls were three and four, they moved again into the house the family now lived in.
It's amazing how much about that apartment I remember, Kathryn thought; I even remembered how perfect the lighting was when the drapes were open.
Christian sat in the wingback chair that was now in his office; his suit was impeccible, and he was just starting to go grey at the temples. This is how she remembered him from the day she moved into that apartment with him.
Kathryn remembered how happy she was when Cameron allowed her to have pencils in her room. The inkpens she preferred to use were still prohibited.
All this stuff I'm remembering about my art, Kathryn thought; The kind of paper I prefer, the pens, pencils, erasers... I wonder if I'll remember how to paint.
And she sat in that small room with bars on the windows, a bed, desk and a lamp. She didn't feel like a prisoner, but Kathryn Hope realized that's exactly what she was. First to Chastity, then to the clinic. All she wanted now was to hear about her "parole" so she could go home to her family.
She wouldn't have much longer to wait. She had the patience. And her art supplies.
Julia lay in bed, wide awake, thinking about whether she and Jack going to Denver and leaving the kids behind was a good idea.
It's not that they can't defend themselves, she reasoned, but Miri is only 16. Is it fair to her to place all that responsibility on her young shoulders?
Next to her, Jack snored and coughed. Julia knew he was getting weaker, despite the treatment he was getting every week in Jackson. The treatment, she knew, was only a stop-gap; a delay of the inevitable. Jack would never admit it, but he was dying right before her eyes. Even their sex life suffered. He was often too fatigued to maintain an erection, something he had no trouble with previously. It frustrated him, because he only wanted to give Julia his best. When she initiated it, Jack often asked her to stop now. And that frustrated Julia. She was slowly coming to realize that their lovemaking on Christmas Eve was the last time they would be intimate. And that made her sad.
God, Julia thought, if You're going to take him, please take him now and put him out of his misery. He hates living like this. I know he does. He puts up a brave front, and he knows he not fooling anyone.
Cuddling up to Jack, she silently asked him not to die on her. I don't know if I can go through this again, she thought.
III
Jack, however, had awakened, thought Julia didn't realize it. He heard her breathing and knew she had fallen asleep. Sometimes, her breathing was hard to hear, and he checked her constantly the three months they were together nearly 17 years before.
He laid a hand on her back to feel the rise and fall of her breathing. God, honey, Jack thought, you breathe so shallow, I can't hear it sometimes.
He ran his fingers through her short hair wondering what she'd look like with longer hair, instead of the boyish cut she wore. He admired the color; beautiful and dark brown, almost like a prize racehorse's mane.
Getting up out of bed, Jack craved a cigarette. Since Julia didn't smoke, he had decided to try quitting cold turkey, and he was having difficulty with it. When he thought of Julia, laying so peaceful in his bed, he knew that he had to do what he needed to do in order to quit. There were no cigarettes in the house anyway, and he didn't feel like going out this late to buy any.
Damn habit's gonna kill me, he thought; quitting will be good for me. I already feel better than I have in years.
In part, he thought, to the beautiful young woman sleeping in his bed. What does Julia see in me? he asked himself constantly. She is so young, so pretty, and not mine to have as much as I want her.
He wondered what Ryan Summers was like, beyond how Julia described him. He thought if he heard more about him, his silly schoolboy crush on Julia would cease. But it didn't. For some reason, it made him more stubborn to be the best lover for Julia. But looking at her as she went about the mundane tasks he assigned her as his aide, he knew that the best thing would be to send her home to her husband.
Jack got back in bed, checked Julia's breathing again, and pulled the blanket up over both of them. I don't get it, he thought; one moment, she's my lover; the next, I'm checking her breathing like she's a fragile child.
And once again, he thought himself a doddering old fool.
I don't want to die, Julia, he said to her in his thoughts; but when it's my time, I'll go gratefully. I can't burden you with this more than I already have.
Jack Coltrane had no idea his end was coming sooner than he, his doctors, or Julia realized. And he wouldn't be there when Julia would become hellbent on revenge; and certainly didn't anticipate the meltdown the tough assassin would have in exacting that revenge.
The killer instinct compartment doors would be stuck open until someone forced them closed.
Collins-Ross took up his position in the scrub brush across from where Julia and her children were staying. Because of the snow, the gnarled branches afforded him a good hiding place.
He always carried his arsenal with him, along with a collection of knives, daggers and blades. He was ready for any confrontation, to defend the home he watched, and give his life for the cause if it came to that point.
It was that last reason why he was thankful for his wife Sara. She bore him two children, put up with his long hours while in training, then now on this assignment more than halfway across the country. She was the most patient woman on earth, and he was thankful for her every day of his life since the day they met in high school in freshman English.
He then saw a government vehicle drive up and an Army non-com get out with a bundle under his arm. Collins-Ross knew from his intel that Julia got a bundle like that every week. It contained reports, mail, and information about their advisary.
The front door opened and a teenage girl about 16 or 17 stood and signed for the bundle. That's Miri? Collins-Ross asked himself. I think I last saw her when she was ten. She had certainly grown into a beautiful young woman, he thought. Looks a lot like Julia, he notated.
Still, he stayed in his position with his weapons. If it mean sitting there all day in the single digit temperatures, he would do it. His sister, although she didn't know it, was counting on him to keep her and her family safe.
Miri took the bundle, thanked the young sergeant for bringing it and closed the door.
As soon as the door was closed, she felt her sixth sense kick in.
Friendlies, she thought; someone's out there who has our backs.
She'd find out the following week who was out there. She and her siblings would be very surprised.
Rachel wouldn't remember, and Zach would barely remember.
Marsh finally, after three days, felt like every step was torture; that every time he needed to urinate it didn't feel like needles going through his dick.
Stupid bitch, he thought bitterly; you were supposed to be fuckin' vulnerable! You weren't supposed to fucking fight back!
Even doing his normal lines of the cocaine he purchased while recouperating didn't seem to stem the pain. It just had to go away on its own.
But he got a nice high out of it and the services of a local whore named Daphne.
What Marsh didn't know is that "Daphne" was an undercover Chicago cop. When she was done with him, she reported everything to her supervisor, who in turn sent a report to Nik San Marco.
"Gotcha, motherfucker," Nik said, reading the police supervisor's report; "but I'm gonna let you think you got away with something. I'll know your every move until you figure out the button on your jacket is a mini GPS device."
Nik got great satisfaction in knowing that for the moment, he'd know where Marsh was at all times, even after he returned to Buffalo. At least until he figured out he was being tracked or spring came, which ever came first.
"Thank you, Ryan," he said, holding his beer bottle in the air in a mock toast to his deceased brother-in-law; "Thank you, brother, for being a motherfuckin' computer genius and making all this shit for us to use. I miss your ugly mug every fuckin' day!"
And thank you, Kimber, for having the foresight to kick that bastard Marsh in the nads, Nik thought; Julia trained you well.
For some reason, Nik's mind wandered to that day years ago, when he and Julia were the only kids Peter and Kiera had, when he split his lip open trying to fly over the couch, and Kiera chastizing him for not being a role model for his little sister, Julia.
We're workin' on getting you home, Jules, he thought; just hang in there.
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