"Wait, Nik... you want to what?!" asked Jeremiah.
"Give Marsh a little taste of what we can do if he steps out of line," Nik said; "Mess with his head a little. Give him some misinformation about Julia's whereabouts."
"Dude," said Jeremiah, yawning,"I don't even know where Julia is!"
"You will," Nik said cryptically; "Look, I'm sorry I had to wake you from your beauty sleep, but I had to tell you! Are you in?"
"Maybe you should let me wake up fully before asking me that," Jeremiah said; "Though I do like the idea of messing with Marsh's head. How about I call you back in a couple of hours?"
"Yeah, sure Jere," Nik said; "Again, I'm sorry I had to wake you."
"No problem, brother," Jeremiah said; "It's not like you've done it before."
"Two hours, Jere?"
"Yeah, or thereabouts."
"Fine," Nik said; "I'll be here all day. This Army thing's become a full time job. Good thing my civilian job was able to allow me to take a leave of absense."
"Who you kidding, Nik," Jeremiah said; "You hate that place!"
"True," Nik said. "Talk with you in a couple of hours, then."
"Yeah," Jeremiah said, then closed the connection.
He lay back down in bed, but he knew sleep would not be easy to come by. Jasmine was at the hospital, so it was up to him to get the kids ready for the day.
Fuck with Marsh's mind, he thought as he stared at the ceiling; that actually sounds like a lot of fun.
The hotel Dixon put them in was rather nice, Julia thought as she lay awake; Too bad we're only going to be here overnight.
Her examinations at the hospital were as she thought: her broken collarbone and damaged muscles from the gunshot wound had healed completely, and the orthopedist was pleased that Julia took on physical therapy on her own. She had regained full range of motion on her own, and she was pleased that the doctor thought she did a good job. She was only advised that she could do more once she returned home.
Jack was able to see an oncologist while they were there, and with Jack's medical history at the doctor's fingertips, pretty much came to the same conclusion that his doctors in Jackson came to: Jack's time was limited, and treatment wasn't working. Not even the stop gap treatment would prolong Jack Coltrane's life indefinitely. The doctor in Denver gave Jack a conservative estimate of six to nine months.
He wouldn't make it to his next birthday.
Neither he nor Julia knew that he wouldn't even make it to Julia's birthday in June.
It wouldn't be the cancer that kills him.
Looking at his daughters, DeWitt didn't know how much longer he could keep the fact that their mother was coming home the next day from them.
He wanted them to come home from school on Wednesday and see their mother sitting at the kitchen table waiting for them.
DeWitt did ask that Helene be excused from ballet rehearsal on Wednesday, however. The company allowed its young dancers to take occasional days off from training, and DeWitt decided that Kathryn coming home was important enough for Helene to take a personal day.
"Dad, why am I not going to rehearsal tomorrow?" Helene asked.
"I thought you should take a personal day," her father said. "If you must rehearse, you have your studio downstairs."
"Yeah, Dad, but why tomorrow?"
"Why not?"
"Dad, I hate it when you get all cryptic on me," Helene said. "The last time you did that, it was to tell us that Mom had to go back to the clinic."
"This isn't going to be bad, princess," DeWitt said; "Can't I spend a whole afternoon with all my girls every once in a while?"
"Well...yeah, Dad," Helene said, still a little confused; sometimes, her father got into these moods. She thought he might be a little depressed, especially around the anniversary that her parents met. But that's not til March, she thought.
"I know you have a life outside this house, Helene," DeWitt said; "But can't your old man have a day of your time?"
"Of course, Dad, I didn't mean that I didn't want to spend Wednesday with you and the others," Helene said; "I just thought it was rather sudden."
"Maybe I'm just fickle," DeWitt said with a grin.
Helene laughed; "Whatever, Dad..."
Lincoln Marsh was getting bored with his enforced solitude.
Stupid Draiman bitch, he thought several times a day, if I ever see her again, she'll be sorry she ever messed with me!
The only good thing about recovering from his "delicate injury" is the steady stream of whores who came to his room at the motel and serviced him, both sexually (when he could) and with food, drugs, and companionship.
He didn't yet know it, but several of those whores were police plants; informants who reported on Marsh's every move, whim or desire.
Marsh didn't know that the next set of visitors were coming to mess with his mind. He truly didn't know what he had stepped into when he agreed to be Chastity Edwards' replacement as the leader of A.R.M.
Sometimes, Marsh wondered what happened to the bitch. Did she lose her mind like he'd been told, or was she forced out, which is what he suspected.
Krysta Banks didn't tell him anything about how A.R.M. was to be run. She was the press liaison, and he suspected that she hated her job now that Chastity was no longer in the picture.
He didn't know she had defected weeks earlier. He had only met her the one time just after the holidays were over. He took an instant dislike to her, and she to him. Her successor, a woman named Kyla Scardino, had just started when Marsh came to Chicago to stalk Kimberlin Draiman.
Marsh was about to meet two of The Triad, though they would not identify themselves as such. He wouldn't even know who they were until long after they were done mind fucking him. He'd be in San Francisco when it occurred to him he'd been duped.
That would make him angry.
Angry enough to kill a terminally ill man.
Which, in turn, would make his worst nightmare come true.
The SpineSplitter.
And a very pissed off 16 year old girl.
Krysta still couldn't believe that she lived in that house.
Right after Kathryn returned to the clinic, Eric helped Krysta move out of her apartment out in town. That was nearly a month ago, and Krysta still was in awe that she, a former hooker and stripper, lived in such a grand house with a beautiful view.
With a man she fell for almost the moment they met.
She didn't even think about female sex partners anymore. All she wanted and needed was Eric.
That afternoon, she sat on the sofa in the living room reading an article in one of the online newspapers that Eric subscribed to. Eric joined her there when he came home from work.
"Anything good in the paper, Krysta?" he asked.
"Just the usual crap," she said; "Though in the Richmond Dispatch, there is an article about outstanding high school juniors and seniors. It makes me wish I'd stayed in school."
"You have your certificate, right?" Eric asked; "Your equivalency certificate?"
"No, Eric," Krysta said sadly; "I don't. Pimps kinda want their girls stupid."
"We'll remedy that, my love," Eric said; "You're very intelligent. You should have no trouble passing the tests with a little study."
"You think so?"
"I know so, Krysta," Eric said; "then you could go on to college."
"The idea of college scares me sometimes," she said.
"Speaking of college," Eric said; "Remember my telling you I have a teenage half sister? One of the last things my father did on this earth was to father a child with a woman he had fallen in love with. He never knew about her. He died before his lover had a chance to tell him."
"I remember," Krysta said; "She's named after your aunt, right?"
"Yes," Eric said; "Cassandra, though she was always Aunt Casey to me."
"What about her? The girl I mean."
"She's getting ready to graduate from high school," Eric said; "and I want to pay for her college education. I've never met her, but I know that my dad would have wanted to do this for her."
"How are you going to do that?" asked Krysta; "I mean, if you've never met her."
"She has a trust fund administered by her mother and a lawyer," Eric said; "I know the lawyer. He was a law school friend of mine. He gave me information about where Cassie is going to college, and I'm going to cover everything for her; books, housing, fees. It's the least I could do."
"That's very generous of you, Eric," Krysta said; "I hope one day, Cassie seeks you out to thank you."
"I don't want her thanks, Krysta," said Eric. "I just want her to know that she has one less thing to worry about."
Krysta thought about that for a while.
"Okay, Nik, I'm awake, alert, and all the kids are busy," Jeremiah said when he finally called Nik back; "Now what's this crazy idea of yours to mess with Lincoln Marsh's mind all about?"
"I'm so glad you asked me that, brother," Nik said; "We're going to pay a little visit to the leader of A.R.M. at his little sleazy hideaway and freak him the hell out."
"And how we going to do that?" asked Jeremiah.
"Full on sniper gear, guns, grenades, and bogus info about where our dear sister is," Nik said. Jeremiah got the feeling that Nik was actually giddy with the idea of mindfucking one of their enemies.
"As I told you when you called me this morning, Nik," he said; "I don't even know where Julia is!"
"We'll get together later and go over the plan, and I'll tell you then," Nik said; "When is Jasmine going to be home from the hospital?"
"Not til 2pm," Jeremiah said.
"So let's meet at Julia's place at, say, 4pm," Nik suggested; "I've been keeping the squatters and cute furry animals out, so at least it will be clean when she and the kids get home. And I have a key. I'll bring the beer, you bring the pretzels."
Jeremiah knew that was code for a secret meeting between the two of them. A time to hash out their plan to mess with Marsh's head.
"I hate pretzels, Nik," Jeremiah said; "Why can't I bring chips instead?"
"Okay, chips it is," Nik said; "See you at four, Jere. Don't be late."
Jeremiah rolled his eyes. This must be one helluva plan if Nik is talking beer and chips. "Wouldn't dream of it," he replied.
II
Kathryn was nervous, maybe more nervous than she was when she went home for Christmas.
It was twenty minutes to ten. This is going to be the longest twenty minutes of my entire life, Kathryn thought.
She was packed and ready to leave. All she needed to do is be patient and wait for Cameron to come get her.
I wonder if the girls know, Kathryn asked herself. Did Christian allow them to take the day off from school? God, please... let me get this right this time.
She felt like she was going to throw up, and she knew she needed to calm down. She got out her pencils and a small drawing pad, and started doodling until something took shape.
It was a face she didn't recognize right away. Long dark hair, green eyes, a perpetually evil grin on an otherwise attractive face.
Is this what Chastity looks like? Kathryn thought.
"No! I will not have her face invading my life! Never!" Kathryn said aloud. "She is dead to me! Hear that Chastity! You are dead!"
There was no argument from inside her head.
Kathryn ripped the page out of the drawing pad and tore it up into many tiny pieces, then deposited them in the trash can near the bed.
She then spit in it.
Kathryn then heard footsteps coming down the hall.
Meanwhile, DeWitt had arrived at the clinic. His meeting with Cameron Chang would outline what Kathryn's treatment plan would be after the month at home before her sessions would begin.
He was taken to Cameron's office, where the psychotherapist and a man about forty, forty-five waited.
"Mr. DeWitt," Cameron said as he entered; "Thank you for being so prompt. Kathryn is no doubt anxious to get home, but we need to talk first."
DeWitt noticed that Cameron didn't introduce the man who was in the room with them. So he introduced himself.
"Christian DeWitt," he said, extending his hand to the gentleman seated next to Cameron's desk.
"Miles Dagget," the other man said, taking DeWitt's offered hand and shook it; "I am the director of the clinic."
Cameron looked like she was being evaluated, DeWitt noticed. She's in some kind of trouble with this man, he thought. She fucked up somewhere.
The meeting began with Cameron outlining Kathryn's treatment plan, that she would meet with Kathryn twice a week on days of Kathryn's choosing after being home for a month to get used to living outside the monitored environment.
After about twenty minutes, Cameron took DeWitt down the hallway to Kathryn's room, where his angel sat on the bed, reading a book.
She looked up and saw DeWitt and smiled. That's all he needed to see.
Kathryn got off the bed, and went to him. He took her into his arms and held her. No words were exchanged between them. They didn't need to be.
Then, DeWitt said, "Let's go home, Kathryn." He grabbed her bag and they went back down the hallway to a desk, where Kathryn received her discharge papers. Then they were on their way home.
There was one place Kathryn wanted to go first.
Chastity's townhouse.
"Why there?" asked Christian.
"To test a theory I came up with," Kathryn said; "I want to see it again to see if I can stand to be in there."
"Kathryn, I bought that house for her to keep an eye on her," Christian said; "Since she is no longer a problem, I was thinking of selling it."
"Yes, do that," Kathryn said as they pulled up to the house where Chastity entertained her lovers. "We don't need it."
As Christian opened the door, he said, "Kathryn, take whatever you want from this house, because we're not coming back here. We'll sell it with whatever is in it. The new owners can do what they will with it."
"The only things I want are her clothes and her car."
"Then you'll have to learn how to drive it," Christian said; "I can teach you how."
"That would be good," Kathryn said; "That way, I won't have to rely on you to take me places."
"You get whatever clothes you want to take with you, and I'll arrange for the car to be sent to our house," Christian said; "Anything else you want to take?"
"I don't think so," Kathryn said; "I just want to get out of here as soon as possible. There's a bad vibe about this place."
"I know what you mean," Christian said.
Soon, Kathryn had the clothes she wanted-- everything that still had a price tag attached. That meant to her that Chastity never wore it. Along with about four pairs of shoes, Kathryn was done. While she was putting the clothing into a large suitcase, Christian was on the phone arranging to have the car sent to a garage to be stored until Kathryn was ready to learn to drive it. Then he called a locksmith to change the locks on the doors.
Within an hour, they had everything they wanted from the house. They would never return.
The locksmith arrived before they left, so they stayed in the car until he was done.
"You want the keys to the new locks?" the locksmith asked.
"Send them to this address," Christian said, handing the man a card for a local realtor. "We're selling the house, so we won't be needing the new keys."
"Yes, Mr. DeWitt," he said; "You and Mrs. DeWitt have a nice day now."
"We shall," Christian said. He backed out of the driveway and he and Kathryn were on their way home.
"What have you been doing with the money you've been skimming from your patients, Cameron?" Dagget asked once DeWitt and Kathryn were gone.
"I haven't been doing that," Cameron said, hoping that Dagget would believe her. She knew he didn't.
"Oh, come on, Cameron," Dagget said; "I know you better than that! Those casino junkets you go on ain't cheap my dear. I've been on a few of them with you."
"I make good money with what I do," Cameron insisted; "What makes you think I've been skimming money off my patients?"
"Because your numbers don't add up, Cam!" Dagget said. "I know DeWitt was one of them. That's why you changed who was paying for Kathryn Hope's treatment from her father to DeWitt."
"DeWitt wanted to pay for the treatment himself and not get Kathryn's father any further involved," Cameron said; "I have the paperwork in Kathryn's file if you want to see it."
"Why didn't you tell Eric Hope before you changed it?" asked Dagget.
"That was an error on my part, but it had nothing to do with stealing money from anyone," Cameron said.
"Cam, I don't want to have to break your ass over this, but my bosses are looking at my numbers and something doesn't wash," Dagget said; "If you're not doing it, then who is? You make the most money of all the therapists in this clinic."
Cameron looked at Dagget. Her money situation was bad, but not enough to steal from her patients, the clinic, and her friend of nearly twenty years.
"If you want to start an official investigation, Miles," Cameron said; "Then do it. It kills me that after everything we've been through together, both professionally and personally, you don't believe me. It hurts to my core that you have these doubts about me."
"If you're not doing it, then who is?" Dagget asked.
"I could name names, Miles," said Cameron; "But I'll save that for an official investigation. All I'll say now is that there's at least two people who want to make me look bad because of the patients I treat."
"Those who know of your reputation and the work that you do," Dagget said. "You've earned those patients. I won't tolerate professional jealousy here. I want to clear your name as much as you do."
"Then start the investigation, Miles," Cameron said; "Contact the state authrorities and have all of us investigated. Just tell everyone else it's me the licensing board wants to talk to."
"You're that sure that someone is trying to set you up," Dagget said.
"David warned me of this the last time I saw him before he died," Cameron said. "That someone would try to set me up. Sadly, I think he was right."
Dagget knew David Chang (or Chang Tao. "David" was a name he gave himself when he came to the United States from China as a student) before he was taken into custody by the New Army and murdered. He was an intelligent man and saw what was happening with the Occupation before many people realized it was happening. He tried to take their children and leave the country for either his native China or Japan. He spoke Chinese and Japanese fluently, along with French, Vietnamese, and Russian, in addition to English. He got caught and the kids, then young teens, escaped and returned to their mother. David was never seen again.
David Chang was usually right about his suspicions, Dagget thought; probably because he grew up in a former Communist country. If he thought his wife was being set up, she probably was. Cameron probably saw all the signs, Dagget thought.
"Okay, Cam, I'll start an official investigation," he said now. "But I will have everyone investigated, myself included. Only you and I will know about it until right before they announce their findings."
"Fine, Miles," Cameron said; "And thank you for believing in me."
"You saw some kind of sign of this, didn't you?"
"David made me a suspicious person," Cameron said; "I look for stuff like that in everything now. And God help me, I miss him, even twenty plus years later."
Dagget put his hand on Cameron's, saying, "I know..."
III
John-Paul Harkins called his client to pass on what he hoped she thought was good news.
When she answered, he said, "Jayme, it's JP, and I've got some incredible news for you concerning Cassie."
Jayme Crist-Rockwell wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
"What about, JP?" she asked.
"It seems that Cassie's half brother wants to pay for her college education," Harkins said.
Jayme was a bit non-plussed. "I don't understand, JP. Cassie's got a ton of scholarships, and her trust fund could easily pay for college."
"You know that Eric Hope and I are friends," Harkins said; "He contacted me several months ago with this idea. He really wants to do this, Jayme. He told me that his father would have wanted it this way."
"But that's why Neil left everything to me, I thought," Jayme said. "To take care of anything in my life that should come up."
"Cassie can't touch her trust fund until she's 21, so this will be a great help to her," Harkins said.
"Did Eric say he wanted to meet Cassie?" asked Jayme.
"He mentioned it, but is going to leave that decision entirely up to her."
"That's probably a good idea," Jayme said; "She feels a little weirded out that she has a brother who has a granddaughter her age."
"So, will you allow Eric Hope to do this for Cassie?" Harkins asked.
"I don't see why not," Jayme said; "It is quite generous of him to do so."
"That's good," Harkins said; "To get off the subject, how are the kids? Josh?"
Jayme laughed, saying, "JP, everyone's fine. Jayden is getting married in a few months, so we've all been kind of wrapped up in that. Josh is doing okay. His accident not withstanding of course. He still has a long way to go in his recovery."
"Does he still think he was targetted for some reason?" asked Harkins.
"I think he's gotten over that, especially since it was just a bunch of dumb kids out on a joyride in a stolen car," Jayme said; "Josh was just collateral damage. He'll probably never ride a motorcycle again, though. I'm just happy he can walk. God was watching out for him."
"Indeed," Harkins said.
Jeremiah arrived at Julia's house on the compound at the appointed time, with the chips and a twelve pack of beer. He knew that Nik would also have beer, and probably stuff to make lunch with.
He didn't even bother knocking on the door. He walked inside and said, "Nik, you here brother?"
"I'm in the living room, trying to get this damn flatscreen to work right," Nik replied.
"I brought chips and beer," Jeremiah said, barely able to keep the grin out of his voice. He knew that the reason they were there was not simply to watch sports.
Nik walked into the kitchen where he saw Jeremiah putting his twelve pack in the refrigerator. "You know that Julia would flip out if she saw beer in her fridge," Jeremiah said; "She and Ryan didn't drink."
"I know, Jere, but she's not here, and it'll be gone before she comes home," Nik said. "It's not like we're going to get plastered."
Jeremiah got down to the reason they were there.
"You told me that you know where Julia is," he said; "And that we're going to fake out Marsh as to her whereabouts. So, explain all ready."
"What I'm about to tell you is classified information," Nik began; "I got permission from Dixon to tell you. He knows that Marsh is here in Chicago, and he know why Marsh came here."
"So Dixon already knows what you're going to tell me," Jeremiah said.
"Yes, Jere, he does," relied Nik; "And now I'm going to tell you."
"Well, spill it, brother."
They sat at the bar as Nik told Jeremiah where Julia and her kids were, and who she was with.
"She's in the middle of fucking nowhere, Wyoming?" asked Jeremiah; "Why there?"
"That's where the man who is protecting her and her family lives."
"Well, she couldn't have picked a more desolate place," Jeremiah said. "There's more livestock than people in Wyoming."
"That's true, and Marsh thinks that's where Julia is," said Nik; "Because it was part of the intel that Chastity Edwards left behind when she disappeared."
"And just what happened to Edwards?" asked Jeremiah.
"She disappeared is all that anyone knows," Nik said; "You're the one who found out her secret."
"All I had to go on is what Krysta Banks told me," Jeremiah said; "I haven't found anything definitive that Chastity Edwards was a split personality. Just that she might be a woman named Kathryn who is somehow involved with Christian DeWitt."
"He's probably in deep with A.R.M. himself," Nik said; "He has given money to the group."
"That doesn't surprise me," Jeremiah said; "He's made his displeasure of the current government well known."
"But, back to Julia," Nik said; "As I told you on the phone, we're going to give Lincoln Marsh a little taste of what he can expect if he messes with us. Then we'll tell him that Julia is in San Francisco, just not exactly where, and see if he sends his goons out there to look for her. Meanwhile, we'll get her, the kids, and her protector out of Wyoming. Julia has indicated to Dixon that she wants to move into the house Ryan was building when he died. There's a barn and plenty of land, because the man protecting them has farm animals."
"And this man who's protecting them," Jeremiah asked, "does he have a name?"
"Yes, it's John Christofferson," Nik said; "he's in his 60s, widowed, and terminally ill with some kind of cancer. Julia wants to bring him here to get treatment."
"If he's terminal, wouldn't that be counterproductive?" asked Jeremiah.
"Maybe, maybe not," Nik said; "I have a feeling that Julia is deeply involved with this man, and she's not going to leave him in Wyoming to die alone."
"He's twice her age, though!" Jeremiah said.
"Since when did that stop anyone?" asked Nik. "But, there is something else about Christofferson I think you should know. It goes no further than this room, though."
"And what might that be?"
Nik told him.
"Holy fucking God!" Jeremiah exclaimed.
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