Merry's Present - Thriller - Strategy

Chapter 9 - Being Watched

Things continued for a while. Life's like that. You get in a groove. Work, too. Your love life. Hell, just about anything to do with life? Is liable to fall into a groove. You get into a routine. It can be permanent, like a job turns slowly and even unexpectedly into a career. You just kind of wake up one day, and realize. I didn't intended to be doing this job for… how long's it even been now.

I call it ritual. When you go through hell, and live through the things I have? Ritual is a lure all its own. You can predict ritual. Its familiar. Its safe. You learn as a kid, you can get scared of the closet, or under the bed, or the dark hallway beyond the door when mom and dad turn the lights out. Its unknown, its dark, so it can grow scary.

But? Even as a little kid, you have your familiar. Your routine. Your… ritual. Your bed. Your covers. Your bedtime. And all little kids know how to hold the scary thing at bay, where it belongs. You run and jump into that bed, and you get under those covers. You cover yourself, in ritual. The familiar. The comforting.

Older, a friend staying over? Way better. Older again? A lover is amazing. Hell. As an adult woman, and I figured I wasn't scared of anything… I actually had a monster outside my door one night and hadn't known it. Thank god I happened to have a real life teddy bear with me. A lover staying over, and he was who he was. He had been, who he had been. He was scarier than the monster.

We all call this condition various things. I call it ritual. I like it. Its comforting. Its a very mild and even benign form of slight OCD. The lure of the familiar, warms and comforts you. So, I call it ritual. Some people call ritual? Boredom. You could think of your job turned into a career as being in a rut. You could view your long term marriage, the same way. Your love life is in a rut. You're bored, its too predictable. Where's the excitement, where's the blood racing through your veins. Where's… the danger.

Yeah. I had mine, I like being bored. Its wonderful. So, its ritual. I don't knock it. When things change, I look for my rituals. My new normal. My new home base. I'm into my studies now. My present being granted to me. College wasn't forever, but it was long enough it became a ritual. Its how I got through, how I learned to keep going on after Wiz was taken from me. I developed… ritual.

There was a time I was drawn to his old beat up green footlocker. There was a false bottom, its where he kept his regular carry gun and rig. A big automatic, a double shoulder holster. A fitted expensive looking leather holster. He wore it over an XL T shirt, and under a 2-XL T shirt. When he even wore it, it was rare.

I handled all his personal things after he was gone. It felt comforting. I learned not to handle that gun though. It triggered thoughts of mercy killings back on the family farm. When one day a sudden flash went through my mind's eye while driving. I could just yank that wheel, and… well. There it was. I was the animal that needed put down. I was the one suffering. I needed to grant myself… mercy.

I was either too weak to do it, or too strong to do it. I concentrated on other things, and learned… ritual. Granting myself mercy? Passed. He had tasked me with becoming something. I was going to become it, too. I did. He had been an agent of karma. One that had graduated to recruiting the next karma agent. Mentoring them. Becoming their oracle. Passing the craft on.

I developed ritual. It first became routine, then it became ritual. It passed from something to get by with, and developed into the new thing. Now? Its like he's back, and with a vengeance. I have my own oracle back, and its better than ever. The most barren and rockiest ground, can nourish a little seed and it can grow into the most wonderful thing.

The new ritual, is I'm in school again. He watches. We look at what he collects. We're looking for patterns. Possible ways in. Possible strike points. Scanning for cracks, for weaknesses. Chinks in any armor. Oh, he's going to die. There's no question of that. My original oracle? Got his motto from the MP's. His code. They all had it, one called it… you do the right thing. No matter what. He called it karma. He came back as something else, something more.

A new motto, too. Now? Its do or die. Period, just like that. Once you decide to do something? That's it. Choose wisely. If you make the conscious decision, to simply refuse to quit, until only your death can stop you? That's do or die. Its no catch phrase. Not a bumper sticker or a pamphlet. Its your reality. Easy, too. Simply refuse to quit or give up, no matter what? You'll get success, or your death. No other options exist. Do or die, the new motto.

I like it.

Corollary. Once you're in? You don't come out. Most people, they say… okay, I'm in. In on… whatever. But, one day? They might come to you. You know what? I'm out. That's it, I'm out. That's wrong. That's not the complete and total commitment. That's not do or die. That's someone that might cut and run three quarters through, and leave you in the lurch. That's not someone who stands next to you no matter what.

Do or die.

Once you're in, you don't come out.

I love it.

My lost Wiz? Wizzy, was the cute version of Wiz. It was all short for… The Wizard. His nickname everyone gave him, long before I was thought of after the service. The nickname followed him. And seeing him on some puzzle, some great quest? I got to see the Wizard at work.

This? Oh, its him again. He stays up late. Going over video after video. Corroborating videos, with GPS data. He talks to the screen, softly. Reverent little whispers. His own little spell, I hope it gives shivers to the guy when he can't sleep, and wonders what that chill up his spine is. That, my friend? That's karma coming for you. You will reap it.

"And… who… are you, hmm?"

Not the first time we've seen this friend.

"Time… couple hours."

He brings up a map he can zoom in or back out of. GPS puts a dot. He expands the circle in and out. Makes another dot on the circle, until the distance matches the time he might like to envision.

"Your little friend, is… this far away, isn't he…"

"What's with the friend?"

"I don't know. Not down the street."

"He's not family. We know all the faces."

"No. Friend. Not family. He's… important, though."

"How do you know that."

"Hunch. Logic. Far enough away? Guy's important. He's… something."

He touches the screen. Talks to it.

"Who are you. We know when he goes and visits family. He has to call his PO and get permission, to travel. Every time. And he does."

"He… goes other places."

"Mm. This guy? Comes in. A lot of people, they abandon a felon after years. When they get out? That don't want anything to do with them. Family, and close friends. That's it. This guy, isn't family. We'd know the face. No… he's a friend. Some kind of close friend. They… go back somehow."

"Is it important?"

"I want my prey alone. I come up with a strike point? I don't want him to have backup. Never any telling who anyone is. What they might be capable of. Look at that girl. Look who you knew. She didn't do her homework, did she. I do my homework."

"I'm imagining if I came for you. What if you had Little Robbie with you. Or Skykid. That would be a worse spot for me to be in, than that girl and Lou were in. They just put the fear of god into them. Rob, Sky? They wouldn't just scare me."

"Good girl. You understand why homework is so important. You leave nothing to chance. Sooner or later, the chessboard pieces will be perfect. That? Is the moment of Teed. We just have to see it, before its time, that's all. Hmm. I wonder…"

"What."

"When he goes off. He goes to this motel. Car? Stays there."

"He's out of state prison. Not a big mystery to me, what he's doing there. Bottle of cheap booze, some cheap girl."

"Okay. But… if I was doing that? Hell. I'd stay all night. Room's paid for. Girls paid for, or just likes coming. Why not enjoy that fun night more. Why… not sleep with the girl, more. Why not sleep the booze off, why risk coming back in the wee hours. I mean, that's prime time to get picked up for drinking. Felon, on parole. Not allowed out after curfew. Not allowed to be drinking. He's… so careful, about everything else. Why not follow through, on that."

"Uh. Girl… has to be back. Cheating. Hubby works late, she goes off. Gets her bad boy fix. I could see it."

"Okay. But, I'd stay and sleep it off, even after she left. Its still enjoyment. I'd go back when it was light out. When it was safe, when I was allowed to show my face in case I got picked up. This? Is risk. That doesn't need to be. With everything else he comes and goes and does? This… stands out."

"If you say so. To me? Its a little thin."

"Hey. We did thin before, honey. There's two little witches, cooling their heels in the state pen for taking a run at you. That was thin."

"Yeah."

I touched my scar on my throat. Can't ever forget that one. Emergency tracheotomies are not fun to experience. Panic decided it was always better to know more, and need less. That would hurt nothing. The reverse, though. That could come back to bite you in the ass. So, he went on yet another little trip, and put a remote camera in a little patch of woods to cover that back row of the motel. He had records from the motel. Mike provided that, it was another little sealed confidential envelope JG hand delivered on one of his rounds coming out.

After all. Sun Tzu said it best. Far better to be prepared for an action the enemy does not take. Than to be surprised and unprepared when he does.

Never know exactly who he even was, really. Its argued historically, if he was even a real person at one time. Could have been a collection of famous military advisers, each building on the ones before him. It was their culture, to keep standing on the shoulders of the one before you. Until you were finally high enough up, that you were actually standing on the shoulders of giants.

Could have also been a pseudonym of one really great mentor. An oracle of his day. The pseudonym would have been to protect that great oracle, that source of the dangerous and needed information and advice. The enemy would have loved to have gotten a hold of that guy, and then richly enjoyed picking his considerable brains on those matters.

Collection, a pseudonym. Doesn't matter now, he's just Sun Tzu.

And he's full of great advice.

Couple weeks later, we were on one of our little trips halfway to DC. To visit and stay with Little Lightning. Me and him were up late, he's talking to the screen, touching it. He was smiling, showing me. The camera from the back row of that motel? That's the place where you park when you don't want to be noticed coming and going. Me and him once stayed at a motel somewhere, and the manager called that back row… cheater's row. Nice room to get, and a boyfriend or husband wouldn't notice a certain car parked there while they were driving by. Little more privacy.

He went in his cheater's row room. Usually a different one in the short back row, but always one of them. He didn't stay long. Someone else came and parked. Took a while to notice. When he came out? He got into a different car.

"He's smart. He's up to… something. Way too much trouble to go through, just to fuck a married woman."

"Why switch cars."

He smiled gently.

"Why indeed. He's good about logging any traveling with his PO. Remember, PO read him the riot act. He's not allowed out after curfew, he's not allowed out of state. No law against a guy finally out of state prison, to get a motel room for the night. Wouldn't arouse any PO's suspicion. He wants to get laid? Great. He's joining the human race, and not committing any crimes."

"And if someone was keeping tabs on him…"

"Hey. You can see him go into the motel. You drive past later? Car's there. You drive off. Hell, you can watch him drive off the next day, when the sun's out. But… someone drops him another car off. He's got privacy, back in cheater's row. Even if someone was watching the place? They're not watching that car. He's now got all night, to roam around."

"Drug deal…"

"I'm thinking? Traveling restrictions. Different car. Different plate. He can easily drive out of state now. And? My hunch tells me this is related to his buddy, the one we wonder who in the hell he is. You keep family, and close friends only. If you even have that much, after state prison. That guy? Is important somehow."

"How far away does he drive?"

"We divide the time in half? That's the trip out, and back. Less though. You have to be doing something, while you're there…"

He made a big circle from the motel. Half the driving time.

"Its somewhere inside that circle. Too much trouble to go through, for it not to be out of state."

"He's close to the border…"

"Its your buddy. You tell me, what's in that circle, that he's so damn well interested in."

"Big circle. Could be anything."

"Could be nothing. Could be, our moment of Teed, too. You never know, until you know. We just have to see it. That's all."

We were staying at Little Lightning's apartment now, though. She had gone to bed, and got up to use the bathroom and have a drink of water. She wandered in. They're out of that… rabid physical fascination stage. They still have sex, but its not that frantic thing like before. She's in her long sleeping T shirt. Like I am. Her defining feature, if you had to pick one? The long, lithe dancer's legs. My defining feature? I'm a hair under six foot tall, and a little bigger and stronger than most women have a right to be. I inherited the big leg muscles. Hers? Are the more svelte, cut kind. A defining feature of me is my size and my strength. For her? An inch shorter at about 5'11" in her socks, she's by no stretch small or weak, but… her defining feature? Was always her balance, her agility. Dancer's legs, and the dancer's grace to go with it.

She stood behind us.

"What are you guys doing up so late?"

I rubbed her thigh lightly. Affectionately.

"Just working, honey. Its nothing, really."

"Hmm. Secret stuff, huh? Whatever."

She strode quite gracefully? And crossed one of those long graceful legs across his lap and gently sat down on him. He got a little peep show, that she didn't have underwear on. She can settle down onto him so gently, there's no drop, no fall. Graceful. She put her arms out and draped them over his shoulders, loose.

"Sorry. I just don't like looking at him."

He gently teased her idly.

"Who."

"Whoever that guy on the screen is. Don't like him."

"You don't even know him. He could be some great guy."

"I don't care. I'll never find out. I just… don't like people? And that's that."

"Why?"

"You want the truth? I'll tell you. You know what happened to me when I was a teenager."

"Yeah. I do."

"Well? Merry there. She was my therapist. I had to learn to make myself feel better. And you know what? There's two ways you can do that. One? Is to do things that make you feel good. You like ice cream? You eat ice cream. But, there's another way. You just don't do anything you don't like. Now? I do both. Why take any chances that I don't feel better."

She's started. Sitting astride him was an obvious cue you couldn't miss. I wrap my arms around him, and grip him and imprison him when I embrace him. She drapes the arms loose over him. She entices, where I trap. I kiss big, I kiss hard. I force and control. I rape with my mouth. Her technique? The opposite. Soft gentle lip and tongue scrapes. He's putty in either of our hands, but her technique is the polar opposite of mine. She stops. To continue her sweet lecture she was explaining.

"People. They're all over. I came from a little town. Later on, you can be in a totally different little town. This one guy? Looks like that one guy you knew. But? He has this other guy's head on his body. And? He's got this third guy's way about him. When I was a kid, you remember Mister Cabbage Head toys? You saw one, had one? You change the eyes, the nose, the feet, the hands. You rearrange Mister Cabbage Head, to be who you want him to be that day."

"Hmm. You're going back a long way. Think I had one when I was, like, four years old?"

"Well. People are like that. There's faces, there's bodies, and there's personalities. There's only so many faces, bodies and personalities to go around. Whole world full of… Mister Cabbage Heads, really. And I'll tell you. I was stuck in that town, for four years after that happened, and it was horrible. Trapped. I had to put up with my… Mister Cabbage Heads I was given."

She scraped the lips and tongue softly some more before continuing.

"I see a personality I remember, I didn't like? I won't talk to them. I see a face I didn't like? Maybe on a body I also didn't like? I'm worse. You can tell me all day long, I'm prejudiced. Its not fair, I'm judging books by covers. Don't give a shit. It makes me happy to avoid anything that reminds me in the slightest of any… bad Cabbage Heads I remember? And it avoids making me sad, to avoid them. I'm prejudiced. I take one look, one listen? I judge the book by that cover, and that's that. Fuck it."

More gentle lips and tongue.

"I guess that guy, he… reminds you of a bad Cabbage Head."

She glanced back, a quick one.

"Eh. Reminds me of… one of the cops in that town. And we didn't have any good ones. You look even remotely like any of them? Pffft. I won't look at you, I won't talk to you. And I certainly would never, ever…"

She reached down with her hand, and guided something out and where she wanted it.

"…do that."

Slow, graceful, dancer's movements now. She has him. Loose draped arms, those gentle lips and tongue scrapes. The legs gripped around him seated in the chair he's in at her desk.

"Now you, on the other hand…"

More.

"You've got a face…"

More.

"On a body…"

More.

"And with a personality? All, I remember on someone I once loved. Very much…"

"You? Are a very good Mister Cabbage Head, that makes me very happy…"

He's not getting away at this point. She going to finish. She's not taking no for an answer now. When she's done, she mugs on him and smiles and gives sweet after care. He can finally talk and get her talking, in their afterglow now.

"See that circle on that map?"

"So…"

"Amuse me. Tell me what's all in that circle. Study it."

"You take that picture of that guy I'm judging the book by the cover, and get rid of it? I will."

He clicked off the little window with the guy in it, and enlarged the map. She looked at the big circle.

"Huge circle. There. That? Is where me and Merry, went to school together. I was once, for a little while? Very happy there. Hmm. And there. That? I won't ever set foot there, ever again. That? Is hell. I once had to drive up here, for work? Meet someone for a little film project, and… I had to pay a bunch of money out of my own pocket. Because… I wouldn't even drive through that state, let alone just avoid that town. Cost me reimbursement traveling money, cost me per diem's… don't care."

"I guess it is a big circle."

He idly put dots on the map. Our school. Her little hell she came from and eventually escaped, and avoids like the black plague. It was the big circle, though. The furthest he could drive and make it back. No time to… do anything, so what would even be the point.

He looked at me and winked.

He took the school dot out. He shrunk the circle now. It fit where he was, the motel was the center of that big but now smaller circle. He moved it bigger and smaller with the mouse. He left it just encompass the general area around… hell. Her hell. Her own personal hell, she was trapped in and escaped away never to return.

He looked at me, I looked back. Neither one wanted to voice the weird idea, for fear of freaking her out. First, because it wasn't right. Then, because even if by some remote possibility it was right? You wouldn't want her to know.

Released from state prison, he had been in the state prison covering the area he had committed his crime in. Without compelling need, its the normal thing. The state you piss off, their system claims you. Where you intend to go when out, you get a PO in that region. He was a ways off from her personal hell, but not unreasonably so. He was near some semblance of family and friends, where he had came from before he became a dirty cop.

His new circle. With his area, and that motel at the center? The circle when made big enough to hit hell and some more? Left for driving time, out of state that had to be covered over. It allowed for hours spent there. Then naturally, the return trip back.

Check out time? Fit with this.

Eventually, Szarabjorna went back to bed. She had to work tomorrow. He tapped her naked bottom gently with his hand as she lifted herself gracefully up from astride his lap. She made him promise to try a fast hard quickie in the morning, to send her off to work.

"I'll see what I can do, little one."

We talked quietly when we figured she was asleep again. It made a bit of sense.

"I was a cop. Not just any cop, either. A dirty cop, in a very dirty little town. I liked it. I had extra money. I had power. I could… fuck hookers and call girls. Gambling. Drugs."

"Yeah. Side show attraction, too. Madam's 14 year old dancer daughter. You got to gang rape an innocent little dancer."

He nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I would have liked those days. You liked sports, right? You always told me about… the finals? That roaring big crowd. The big stadiums, for the finals. Seeing your little cartoon, up on the jumbo screen. Its intoxicating, isn't it."

"Yeah. It was."

"This? Was his glory days. He had power. Money."

"He… not only wouldn't be allowed out of state, he… wouldn't be allowed to have any contact, with anyone from… no criminal accomplices."

"Is it just me? But… Little Lightning, took one glance at the video still. Ugh. Reminds me of one of those dirty cops."

"Yeah, but… that's not fair. She… really does have a prejudice thing, just like she says. You look even remotely like anyone she associates with all that stuff… she's avoiding little triggers."

"No. I grant you that. Just… I'm talking gut feeling. Hunches. Dog takes one sniff? Likes or doesn't like someone. I believe in hunches. Me? I used to believe in intelligence. Logic. Planning. Little Robbie? He likes hunches. He obeys them. It allows him to act quick, without thinking."

"I used to know someone. That lived and died by hunches like that. And you ask any cop, any investigator. They don't ignore gut feelings and hunches."

He brought the picture back up. Looked at the circle, the map… and the picture. He touched the face with a fingertip gently. Whispered to the screen.

"Gotta find my new buddy here. Could be nothing. Could be something. Gonna find out, though."

I touched his shoulder.

"Come on. We should get some sleep. And hey…"

"What."

"We're here. We're closer to JG and Mike. Get JG to do an envelope to Mike. He can get a dump of every single one of those dirty cops. He coordinated the end of the case. If your hunch is right? We'll know quick."

"My hunch didn't do it. It was her gut hunch. Instinct. Like an animal. Its primal."

"Come on. We'll see soon. Sleepy time."

In the morning, Szarabjorna wanted him to make good on her quickie before work. She was even a little uncharacteristically demanding about it. She was adamant. She wanted it quick, she wanted it hard. She demanded him to make it hurt. It became practically her mantra. Hurt me, hurt me, make it hurt. Harder, faster. Deeper.

She wanted her legs gathered up and held up so he could get that deep angle. She begged him to hit that back end, where it hurt. He's not huge that way, but he's not little either. We both call it fun size. The joke is, its big enough its more than enjoyable, and you can still have children one day. I know enough about the physiology to know what she's asking for. Especially with legs over the shoulders? He can just bottom out so to speak, and just hit the entrance to the end of what would informally be called the fun hallway, and the entrance to the work room.

Quick, hard, and intense? When it was time, she demanded him to thrust in hard, and hold it there. Where it was tender. She thanked him and gave him the sweetest aftercare. She all but danced around, getting ready to run off to work. To the cutting house, editing little video projects for customers.

He just communicated with me by eyes. It asked. The hell?

I basically lied to him with my own eyes back. I shrugged. I think I know the… code though.

She was demanding about it. It had to be man on top. Legs up and back. Hard, fast, deep… asking for that bottoming out, and for it to be held finally for the release at the end… she's basically going through all the physical gyrations of asking to be impregnated.

We talked about this. We all never decided, but. She knows I can't have kids. She knows I can't get married. Getting married, and giving children? Are two of the most basic and primal functions a woman gives her man. And I can't deliver either one. She can. She could be married, and sort of lock him down for me. Not that I need that security, but… she could. She could also bear him a child. And that? Is a very real thing.

Me and Wizzy, before he got taken from me. From us. Me and him were going to finish our doctoral work, and… get married. Back then? I planned on kids, I didn't yet know I was never going to have that. She was the third person in what ended up a very romantic three way relationship. To the outside world? Me and him were the married couple. She? Would be the close friend, the room mate. To the world, anyways. Behind closed doors? She was the other wife, not the other woman.

When that asshole shot him and blew his blood and guts into my mouth and eyeballs, and tore a hole through my shoulder? He not only killed my fiancee, he killed hers as well. Szarabjorna is only a year younger than I am, and I'm in my mid thirties. I'm gonna click my heels a couple times, and… be 40 one day soon. My clock might not tick any longer that way, but hers? Her clock still ticks.

She talks about it all the time, gently. Jokes, makes it silly fun to get it talked about, but… its a theme with her.

She told me once a little while back. Had Wiz not been taken from us? Doctor Hurry would have married Doctor Wizzy. She, was the other wife behind closed doors. She pointed out, that I would have found out I wouldn't have a kid. And she? Would have been able to provide that. She would have become very important to the relationship, not that she wasn't already an equal partner already.

Now that I either believe, or just allow myself to delude myself, same thing in the end, really… now that I believe Wiz is back, inside Panic? And she's back, too. She's… I guess trying like hell to provide that. Time's running out on that option, too. She put it in sports terms. Its late in the game, and that's the last chance for that goal coming.

40 is the death sentence on a woman having a healthy baby and carrying it full term.

That's what's scaring him. I see it now. She makes all those little jokes. Come on, I know you got it in you… fuck that baby into me. Do it right. She lays and talks with me about it. Anything you want, Merry. You want me to stay out of it, and let you two adopt it? Just let me come around and be there. Help raise it. He's the dad, he can marry me, I'll keep him for you. When you can? We'll just quietly divorce and you can quietly marry him when you can. Or, I can keep the kid if you're scared about your life and your work. We all have money, none of us will ever starve. There's enough time and money and people, to raise it and feed it. We're all good people, it'll get good values. Like you remember growing up, Merry.

He's afraid to have a kid of his own. He was born with his condition. He wears a mask, so people don't see the real him. That his emotions don't naturally show on his face. That his emotional state doesn't show in his body language. He puts on a mask and a little show, to make those things happen. He can also drop it in an instant, to terrify someone if he has to.

He's terrified to see his own son grow up like he did. Not understanding why he was different. Floundering until he figured out his place in the world. I can see his point.

He's not falling out of love with her, like I was afraid was happening. He's pulling back from being scared of having a kid. Like a person with some… defect, afraid to pass the bad genes on. I don't consider him to have any defect. I consider it all a great advantage. He's not just different, he's better for it. I swear.

Wiz had a normal emotional make up. Hell, I used to be normal or what passed for it back then, too. But now? I'm all but a sociopath. A healthy one, but still. And Panic? He's Wiz come back to me, able to drop his face like I can. The odds of it being a coincidence are so high? It lends credence to my… crazy belief he died down there, and came back from the other side with a piece of Wiz attached to him.

If its not really Wiz sent back to me? Its functionally the same thing. I mean it, I'm either losing the rest of my shit I ever had together, or… its really Wiz in Panic's body. He's taking revenge on the other people in on his murder conspiracy. As a present to me. He loved Little Lightning, too. He took revenge for her. He got everyone that had perpetrated horrible crimes on her, time and again back then. Then consigned her to hell for four years, to pay for what they had done. He's finishing that revenge now.

And its not revenge. Its vengeance. Karmic vengeance, the worst kind.

And another thing I realize now, too. Me and Little Lightning? Have switched places somewhere along the line. I was the good girl, the one that had her head screwed on right. I grew up in black and white. Two parents, that loved me and looked out and cared for me. You know, like parents are supposed to be, before modern bullshit got as screwed up as it is today.

Lightning didn't. She had a single mom, and she was a real piece of work. What kind of sewage filth sells her own 14 year old daughter, to whore her out for gang bang parties. That's evil. I don't feel one shred of guilt for what was done to the mother, the crime boss that ran that evil little town, or his asshole kid. They got what they deserved.

But, after Wiz got shot? I became the damaged goods, not Lightning. I was the one that couldn't be fixed. I'm still not fixed, I'm a scab over an old wound that never healed right. Its been so long, I'm actually scared to feel real feelings anymore. The occasional flash of a real emotion? I wait for it to pass, like a dizzy spell. Whew, glad that passed.

There's nothing wrong with Szarabjorna Sturmer, as breeding stock to be the mother of his kid, my surrogate child bearer. She's 5'11" in her socks, and towers in heels. She has those legs, and that extra grace and balance and agility, that only a gifted dancer brings to a sport. She was the big star, I was just the utility player that mattered. He's over 6'1". The full blooded Swedish welder that made Szarabjorna and gave her his country's style of name? She always described him as really tall. Daddy's always look huge to little kids, but he had to duck his head to come home and into the house. I was in that house, when they took that thing that claimed to be a "mother" out of this world. His head had to dip to fit through that door? He had been a big tall guy. A giant, like my own father.

His height, her father's height? Boy or girl, that will not be a small child, statistically. They're both athletic. They're both smart. He's a sort of twisted genius, she's not dumb by any stretch. She's a bright girl. What more could breeding stock even be, in those practical concerns.

Tall, smart, athletic, healthy. She's pretty, and her mother had been a gorgeous woman. On the outside, anyways. Looks came from mom. Legs and personality? Gifts from dad.

This is all crazy. I'm crazy. Doesn't any crazy person claim it all makes perfect sense, though? What I need right now, is some ritual. Now that, will ground me. Safety. Home base. Me and my handler, Uncle Mike. We have personal burner phones to text on. Paid for with cash. Activated anonymously. We call them burner phones, people popularly call them cheater phones. Because that's what the average person would commonly pick up one cheap and use it for.

Texting my handler on my burner phone? Is ritual. The familiar. I instantly begin to calm down. And really, what the hell. Anxious? Nervous? I can't feel that. I just did, though. Just a headlight beam of it, but I felt it for several seconds before the fit passed. As if real emotions that I can actually feel? Is sickness. Relating it to Panic? More ritual. Better.

"Mike's gonna send JG out, with another package."

"Good. Find out real soon, honey. If this is our moment of Teed or not."

"If it is, we're seeing it, so…"

"Yeah. In an otherwise normal chess match up. You're looking for your moment of Teed. You have to see it. Later on? You implement it, but… the real win actually came back where you first saw it, and spotted it. The moment of Teed, is seeing the weapon. Later on, is just when you pick it up and use it."

"Hmm. Sun Tzu, is pleased with us?"

"He is."

This is all ritual. All goodness. That momentary sense of… cosmic and supernatural awe? Passed. I'm back. In the here and the now. The logical. Back in the ritual, where I need to be. Then? My phone rings. Not my burner. My regular phone. Wow. Now there's a number I haven't seen in a while. Christ, the coincidences add up and it spooks you. Another link to my old life. Back when it was me and Wizzy's life.

"Is that you?"

The sarcastic female voice comes back, and I know its her from tone though content just ices the cake.

"Probably. Could just be someone stole my phone, though."

"Oh my god, how you doing? I haven't seen you in…"

"Um, what. Eighteen months, I think."

"Yep. You disappear for work. You back again?"

"Oh yeah."

What is that in her voice. She sounds slightly different.

"Work go okay?"

"Another confirmed contact. Another optimum outcome. Sure. What, you starting to think you ought to bet on the other horse?"

"Never. If you're done with your job, then…"

"Yeah. The usual leave of absence. I had to get out of here quick this time. The press is going crazy. I'm allergic to press."

"Where are you."

"Well. I'm out of there. I'm in my car. I'm going to have someone get my truck and my trailer later on."

"Wow. You… sound like you actually… you know… escaped."

She laughed heartily.

"Kinda. One reporter. I got released. I'm driving back, to where I had my trailer? Damn investigative journalist, waiting on my front doorstep on me. I drove right on by, pretended like I didn't live in my own trailer? Fuck it, I got right the hell out of Dodge."

"You said… released? You got, what. Questioned? Held?"

She laughed again.

"Not like that. Doctors. Little more comfortable, to be trapped in the hospital, but… they let you out quicker. I don't know, maybe the reporter got onto me, a contact in the hospital? Who knows. I just… drove past and said screw it. I can always get my truck and trailer. They have services for that."

"Hospital? Did you get hurt?"

"Ah. Got banged up a little more than usual this time, that's all. I'll live."

"Well. Where you headed, then. You gonna stay at, some girlfriend's place? You always visit between jobs, you know."

"It ain't where I was working, but… I'm in Ohio right now. Deciding. I mean, I sure as hell ain't going home to see my family. I can barely put up with that shit show, when I'm a hundred over a hundred."

"You looking for a girlfriend to stay with? You don't have to ask."

"Oh. You're… offering to be my girlfriend, huh? Nice."

"I'd be honored."

"Okay. I was just thinking. The range? Its spring. The peace and quiet. The tiny town, after being in the city again. Sounded like just the thing."

"Sure. I mean, me and Panic? We're not there right this second."

"You're at the bank. Gotcha."

"Actually? No. We're… a little ways away from there. You remember Little Lightning?"

"Yeah."

"Me and Panic, we're at her apartment."

"Oh. All right. Should I just head to the range? You can call someone and tell them I'm okay to be there."

"Just come here."

"Okay. I can get a motel room where you're at. I get to see how Lightning's doing after all these years."

"Motel room my ass. I'll give you the address here, where I'm at."

"Ask Lightning if its okay. I don't wanna be rude."

"Oh. Keep your phone handy. I'm sure it fine."

"Okay. Call me back."

I texted Little lightning. Told her what was up, and who was out and about, and decided to have her call Elise and invite her here. She did. I called her back, to make sure and she was happy. I sent her the address and GPS location. Told her to call me when she was close. Depending upon exactly where she is in Ohio, she has to just first make the Pennsylvania Ohio border, then come halfway across the state. The little trip at the end, is to make her way up the mountain ridge in the middle of the state, to hit Wrightsville.

That's for her to get to home. But, we're at Lightning's place. Closer to around the southern Pennsylvania border near the middle of the state. There's an area, where you're not too far from Pennsylvania, Virginia, West Virginia, or Maryland. Its near there. Not a city by any stretch, just not some tiny one horse town.

When Elise texted me, I was on it.

"Crossed the PA border from Ohio."

She'd now be here most likely before Lightning got home from her cutting office. Its all highway, and we're not far off that beaten path. We were looking to place Light roughly between DC and Wrightsville. She's physically closer to us in Wrightsville. But time wise, its about the halfway point. The roads from here to Wrightsville are smaller and slower and you have to constantly shift roads to stay on point. Its actually easy as pie. You can ignore the road signs and numbers and all that jazz. Just choose whatever small road keeps the mountains on your right? You end up there. The highways between DC and here make it a lot quicker to cover the longer distance. It makes it reasonable for poor JG to service her computer workstations and server.

Its one more link to the past. Its uncanny. She was one of Wiz's best friends and was a female MP. Her job? Wow. She's no girly girl. She hunts murdering rapists for a living now that she's out of the service. Where she hunted rapists successfully. And by successfully? I mean she generally kills them. I read her code. A confirmed contact? Meant she was out being rape bait. A contact was just a guy trying to hang around her, get with her. A confirmed contact? He made his move. And optimum outcome? Well. She only hunts the murdering rapists now. That means she greased him.

Seeing her and Wiz practicing with their extended clips and shooting practice? It was impressive. I'd say she's one of the boys, but… if the "boy" isn't some kind of SWAT or handgun competitor? He's not keeping up with her. She practices and plays with Panic and Little Robbie and the IDPA competitors at the range property, and no one thinks they're catering to some girl that wants to have fun pretending.

With a gun in her hand? She's all business. When you see some… female in a movie that's portraying the rare female expert handgun wrangler? She's the real life prototype they're shooting for. She was a sport Judo champ when she was young, and if you don't know to watch out for her at that? Its another shocking eye opener. Once again, what you see girls pretending on movies? They're trying to show you her in real life.

She got violently raped when she was young, and it changed her life. It turned her into what she eventually became. It also removed men from her life. At least it removed them romantically. She's the penultimate tomboy. She prefers to hang out with men. She just has zero romantic interest in them. She didn't get any real help after her assault when young and impressionable? She went over. I don't even think of her as "gay", I simply know she is.

She's once again a rare specimen. You wouldn't know it, if she didn't tell you or you already knew. Her transformation when she's rape bait? You honestly don't know its the same woman. This is the other person I went with into that dirty little town back then. Cities with a rapist leaving murdered women around to be discovered? Locate and hire "The Black Widow". She hunts them as rape bait? Provides the optimum outcome everyone wishes for. No trial. She refuses press. She disappears on a leave of absence after the fatal shooting? Then… onto another city. America always has one working somewhere. It attracts her to take care of them.

Wiz once shocked me with his phraseology. That woman? Has killed more men than you've ever fucked.

Her and Wiz took out the garbage like they were breathing.

How strange is it, that's who is coming in. That feeling of supernatural and cosmic awe floods back. Panic really is Wiz reincarnated. He's hunting down the last of the dirty cops that once killed him. Here comes his former partner in bad karma. Am I going to get to go out hunting one more time, with Wiz and Elise again? Christ. It was all for revenge on what happened to poor Lightning, when she was still young and innocent. She's here too. There's a chance its the rest of the pack of the same dirty cops. Its all too much.

Ritual. I need… ritual. I need, to keep my shit together. What shit I have left, anyways. I was Hurry back then. Now? I'm Merry. I became like Elise in many ways. Twisted by cruel fate into a hard, damaged survivor that could act without emotion. Lightning has taken my place. Trying to get me to come back and join the human race, before its too late for certain things. Like having a child.

The hell's even with me right now. I need a big dose of ritual. Ritual pain, that'll fix me up. Its what I jokingly call exercise. I tell him I'm going out for a run. He wants to go through some of the server information some more. He's on a puzzle, he'll immerse in it until he sees it. His moment of Teed.

The stiff five mile run? Really fixes me up. Ritual. Makes me feel like myself. A little powerful too, at the same time. I know I'm coming back in and presenting him with something he really likes. I'm tall, I'm strong. He likes athletic women, so he loves me fine. He likes my sweat. I have my defining feature, too. My too big and muscular legs. I just accentuated them, and he'll notice them. He likes seeing my muscles pumped. He'll do what he always does. Smell me, hold me. Drink in my scent I have him addicted to. He'll all but worship my legs. Cup my big calves. Trace my thigh muscles. He loves that little one at the top that peeks out. Running five miles brings it out more.

I feel more powerful. I can act rougher with him. He likes it all even more.

So I do it. I take charge. I order him around. Oh, its couched as suggestions? But they're orders, and we both know it. I'm confident like this in bed. With Elise coming in? We might not have a chance for a little bit, like we do around just Little Lightning.

My exercise, was my ritual. It brought back the safe, the normal, the predictable. Which is what any ritual is for, really. Unfortunately for my case? The universe had other plans. I wasn't to be allowed to let ritual bring the orderly calm. No way.

Elise finally got in. When she said she had gotten a little banged up? She undersold that one. Her left arm was in a sling, she had one of those things on her ankle and lower leg. Not a cast, like the plaster cast we all know. One of those plastic padded inside things with the Velcro closures. Some facial trauma and generalized scrapes and bruises, but she was most concerned about the tendon injuries to her shoulder and ankle. The face would heal. Tendons? Could fuck with her forever. Depended on how it healed up, she would see as it went.

Apparently, her best guess was that learning somehow some specifics of her injuries, some contact at the hospital? Allowed the intrepid investigative journalist lady to somewhat successfully track her to her trailer. By driving past and leaving, she headed that off at the pass, leaving the journalistic pain in the ass with no story and more importantly with not knowing if she had located the right person or not.

Her career depended on her anonymity, and no one being able to put a face to her. The journalist she bolted on was possibly ruining that. The perpetrator, who she confirmed she definitely had greased? Before getting greased, had gotten a hold of her and it had been a wild fight. Backup had been far enough back to guarantee success, which was obviously far enough back it was long enough to get hurt. She said eventually, she abandoned the physical fight and turned the fistfight she was losing slowly into what it was supposed to be. A gunfight, and she won that hands down. Mainly because he had no gun and she did. And, because she was able to get her feet under him finally and kick him back creating just enough space to get her piece out and into play.

"He gets the one in the chamber, right in the cardio. I dumped the rest of the mag and ventilated. Fucking textbook. Son of a bitch had just enough adrenaline left, he got a hold of my damn ankle, and… I don't know, like he was accomplishing anything, but…"

I tried to change the subject, but. She confided in me. She almost came this close, to the quick retirement plan. Her euphemism, for staying in the game she was in too long and getting killed.

"I don't know. I only work at night, but how many more years can I paint myself up to look attractive enough to a twenty to thirty year old pervert, you know? I'm a girl, fighting male violent felons. I can't do this forever. I always knew that. Maybe this was my last warning."

"Elise? You always… the smile on your face, when you talked about retiring. The Judo school. The… private lessons. The… police textbook? Let yourself be… happy. You earned it. Maybe it is time."

"You know what the biggest problem is? The real one."

"I'll bite."

"The biggest fear. To someone like me? The worst thing that can happen to us, one day. Is… you realize you no longer have it. Not all of it, not anymore. The calendar is going to take it away, and you know its coming."

"Well? Do you… have enough for the Judo school, finally? I bet you do."

"I've had enough for the judo school, for years. Its about what city the Judo school is in, and in how good of a part of that city. That's what the more money was always going to be for. I get one in the better part of… Los Angeles? That's big time. I open it in some toilet like Detroit? I might as well open one in a third world shit-hole, you know. Merry. I don't require fame and fortune? But, I don't want paid in bananas and seashells, either."

"Well. Compromise? Maybe… the good section of Detroit."

Elise laughed. It was her hearty guy belly laugh, and it was genuine.

"You must have never been to Detroit before, Merry. The good section of Detroit? Is the shit-hole. The bad part of town, is just worse."

I laughed some now too.

"I can't believe there isn't… some compromise city, you can be in the half decent section of, that would… you know. Do okay."

"Maybe you're right. I'll see how I heal up. A Judo teacher, that can't roll with their students? That's scraping the bottom of the barrel, you know. If I want to be somewhat successful? I need to at least be… competitive in my masters division. With the other teachers."

"Elise? I wouldn't put my hands on you right now, and you're down an arm and a leg. I'm sure you'll be fine, sooner than you think."

"Hmm. A girl-scout with a bad attitude could put me down right now."

"Well, just wait a week or two. I'm sure you can move up into the boy-scout league in no time. Cheap shot the girl-scout, if you have to."

We giggled.

"Thanks, Merry. You make me feel better."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah. You notice I'm here. I called you, instead of my own family. What's that tell you."

"You, just don't have a girlfriend right now. That's half of your bad attitude. You, just need a cute girl to… tend to your needs in the tub, while you recuperate."

"Yeah. I look fantastic. Look at me. I look like a politician's wife, between elections. Where's Panic, anyways. Figured he'd be here."

"I went for a run earlier. He… went for a walk. He's working on something, he wanted to clear his head. He'll be back soon. If he was going to run away from home? I figure he'd have made a break before now."

"Well? I need to keep moving. Take me out for a walk. At least till Lightning or Panic gets back."

"Your leg, Elise…"

"Using it? Is the best thing for me. I've had tendon stretches before. You baby them, you're fucked. If it doesn't hurt, you're not moving them enough. Its the only thing tendons understand."

"You don't need a… physical therapist or something?"

"I'm on leave. I have medical, trust me. Like I can't walk myself. Like I can't teach myself to pick up a coffee cup myself. Jesus. Take me for a walk. Come on. Let me see this place a little."

I took her for a walk. She wouldn't let me baby her. She'd rather limp gingerly on the Velcro plastic cast thing, than use the cane she had. It was just in case she needed it, if she over did it and had to use it to get home.

Of course she over did it a little, and ended up wincing and having to use her cane to get her back. She argued with me, when I kept trying to get her arm over my shoulder to help her, take weight off her leg. Just to get her back home, but… its Elise. I was really enjoying this… nostalgia. Elise, one of the original crew. When we still had Wiz. Nostalgia is a relative of ritual. We just about hit the front of our target, we were almost there. That's when Elise decided to scare me.

She sweetly asked me for "a second". Which I naturally indulged her with. She rubbed her bad leg some, moved it around a little before continuing. She again, totally out of character, too… asked for her arm around my shoulder. To take the weight off the last little bit. I was happy to do it. She used having her face near me to whisper into my neck.

"Don't look around. Don't you dare. We're being watched."

I used stopping, and rubbing her leg as a device to get a chance to whisper back.

"You're serious."

"I joke about everything, but… never that. I left my piece back at the apartment. You got yours?"

"Small of my back…"

We had hoodies on. It was spring, and some spring days are a little chillier, or a little warmer. Today, had been a chillier one. Elise acted like she put her hand around my waist, and used it to orient her hand and feel exactly how her hand would go for it. If she wanted it. We got in fine.

"Elise…"

"What. Merry? I made a living out of… just knowing. I know when I'm being watched, and I'm telling you, we were being watched. I can just… feel the eyeballs on me, when it happens."

"So, someone just looked…"

"Merry? There's a difference. You've seen me call it, a couple times. Yourself. You know."

"I guess I do. You, think it was bad?"

"I know being watched. I know being tracked, from bar to bar. From party to party. I also feel right before I get jumped. That? Just… watching. And I can tell you? Its an amateur."

"How do you know that…"

"A pro? Barely sets me off. A pro, uses the corner of the eye. They watch someone else, near you. Hell merry, we taught you all this, when we trained you to be our lookout. I got eyeballed. By an amateur."

I sighed. Her and Wiz? They had.

"Its why I wanted to go for a walk."

"Huh?"

"When I got here. I thought I felt it, when I was coming in. I thought, that's not right, but… its why I wanted to go for a walk. I wanted to be sure. I'm telling you, there's an amateur watching."

I went to go to the window. I was planning on peeking out.

"Don't you dare get to the window, girl. What are you gonna do. Try to peek out the slit in the curtains? You might as well walk out there, and tip them off. Hey you? Whoever you are? You're made. You want a chance to do something about it? You wait. Let them think they're comfortable. Christ. I hope Panic's better at this game than you are."

"Elise?"

"Hmm."

"I bet you wish you had Wizzy here, right now. Don't you."

She sighed.

"Yeah."

"Panic's good at these games. I'm telling you? Its like… Wizzy 2.0… believe me."

"I hope so. For your sake."

"Elise? What do you think it is."

"I know when I'm watched. I don't have a crystal ball. I don't know. Purse snatcher? I'm… injured. Its obvious. I'd make a good purse snatching, if he was sizing one up. Put yourself in their shoes."

"Makes sense."

"I was kinda hoping, you might tell me it was… protective surveillance. Something from your… work. I guess not."

"No."

"Don't tell me what you're working on, but… you think it could be you?"

"Not me."

"You said Panic's working on something. What about that?"

"I'll run it by him when he gets back. I can't… he'd have to decide to tell you that."

"Do me a favor then, Merry."

"Name it."

"When's Lightning due back?"

"Any time now, really."

"Call her. Tell her to park somewhere a couple blocks away. Where she would never park. There a back way into this apartment building?"

"Yeah…"

"Park somewhere hidden. Tell her to make her way around back, come in through the back. Better yet? Let's go check out the back…"

We went out the back. There was a fire escape entrance. Elise said it was clear. Whatever it was, it was only the front being watched. I called Light, and got her to agree. Then, I called Panic and told him the same thing.

"It doesn't have to be any of us being watched, Merry. Could be a purse snatcher. Could be… anyone, watching anyone in this apartment building. Private eyes? Looking to bust a cheating husband. It could be anything."

"No reason not to plan around it."

"You're a lot more paranoid, than I remember you in the old days."

"My driver's license says Merry now. What's that tell you, Elise."

She smiled.

"Tells me, that you were dumb enough to not just go be a rape therapist, like god intended you to be."

"Karma, Elise. Karma, works in strange and mysterious ways."

"Yeah? And I work in even stranger ways. And if I didn't have my arm in a sling and my ankle in a boot? I'd go out there, and grease some asshole, right the fuck now."

"Hold on…"

"What now."

"I got more troops coming in. Hell. I forgot about JG."

I called JG, and redirected his parking and approach just like I had Lightning and Panic. As it went on, Panic came up the fire escape and in the back first. Little Lightning followed not too long after. I had the moment and reminded Elise that JG only knew Merry. Panic deadpanned me, and made a wisecrack about security basically only I got. Eventually JG arrived.

I had a quick pow wow in the bathroom with a radio on, about the situation. This was right before Junior happened up the back entrance to this floor we were on. Lightning was deemed trustworthy, if it came to it. Which it was looking like it would. This situation left Elise hanging. Not in my mind, but in his.

"Honey? Elise will be more nervous, about me talking frankly about what her and Wiz did… that night. I trusted her with my life before. Wiz did too, I might add. She was his best friend. His partner from… back in the MP days. Elise? She knew about Wiz and bad karma before I had to know about it."

"That's your call? But I'd like to point out, that I have to live with it. Or otherwise. You think she'd approve?"

"I bet you she'd approve, about as much as I do. The only complaining? Would be why did I wait so long to bring her in on the fun."

He calculated.

"We can trust Little Lightning with what's going on… I'd like to keep that in…general terms. We could spin things with her, any one of a couple different ways. Elise sounds like she should be helping me give you lessons. That leaves JG."

"Your thoughts?"

"Junior's presence… complicates things. He's also uniquely qualified to help. If… we even had to shift into a more… on the books style of operation? He would be… even more useful that way."

"What. We don't have long to start deciding. Treat him like Lightning? Spin it some."

"I guess. Pains me, to treat him like an asset."

"Get over it. My Uncle Mikey treated me like an asset for how long. If you're going to play Uncle Mikey's game, makes sense you use some of his playbook. He must be good at it. He had a career doing it."

"Uncle Mikey can help manage Junior."

"So… we wing it."

"You don't always get a choice. In chess? I get to sit there, and study the board, as long as I want. Each and every move. But, when my opponent makes a move? He makes a move. In real life? You might get time to think, or… its like playing chess on one of those stupid timers. You take more than a couple seconds to move? It costs you more than making a bad move, to take too much time. I'm better at the no time limit chess game, for the analogy of everything. Little Robbie? He shines when speed counts for as much as correctness."

"What would Rob do?"

"Oh. I can hear him beating my ear right now. He loves my planing and plotting, but… when the pushing and shoving starts? He wants to quickly go from just reacting back, and start acting. I'm okay with that, but…"

I asked what was wrong.

"We're starting to introduce rules into this. If the enemy isn't playing by the rules, and we are? That's not good."

"Uncle Mike? Is good at both. Putting them together."

"All right. We manage this as best we can. For now. We go to Uncle Mike the first chance we get. We have to try to… give him as good of a chance as we can? That he can… manage things the way he might decide to."

When Junior finally arrived, he was joking about the situation.

"What the hell. Is this one of those role playing parties? Instead of a who done it, we all play secret agent and try to win the prize."

Panic shrugged.

"I wish it was a game. I'm not a hundred percent on exactly what's going on right now."

"Okay. You want me to leave, you want me to stay. I'm the courier right now."

"This is… complicated."

He went through a basic explanation of Elise's magic guts.

"Okay. I mean, its not like at the bureau, you don't hear war stories over lunch. A few SWAT guys have a reputation of being radar dishes. The guys that were in the service? Some of them tell stories like that. I mean, its not like I haven't heard it before."

"And you? Basically, you believe in ghost stories or not."

"They drill it into our heads at the academy. Your guts will tell you something is wrong. Very wrong. It just won't tell you what it is. I mean, I always do the surveillance. Hey, that's my thing. But? I've seen the senior agent on site, just… pull the plug, pull everyone back… he didn't like something. Its expensive to do that? Never heard of one of them getting a lecture for it. Guys with experience? Are trusted to make those decisions."

"Hey. JG. Surveillance guy. What's your hot take on this."

"Honest? All over the map. When you do surveillance a lot? You tend to run into other… I mean, say the bureau is watching some place. Another branch of the bureau? Can be watching them for a different or even a very similar reason. Having operational security is great? Only to a point. We can run into each other in the field, though. It happens. We… can also run into some other team's players. DEA, ATF. DEA has good surveillance? ATF tends to be a little… sloppy. Everybody can waste a lot of time and money, doing counter surveillance on each other."

"Okay. You believe in ghost stories. What do you recommend."

"Well. Assuming she's correct. Front of the apartment building only. The back is clear."

"Yeah."

"That's definitely not the bureau. Step one, you use manpower and resources. We don't leave building faces open. We don't leave streets and access ways open. DEA has no problem burning through their quite substantial budget, either. The ATF? They tend to do the… one guy in the alley with an earpiece in his ear, talking to his paper bag. The joke is, someone needs to tell them to quit pretending and come up to speed."

"So, you'd guess this wasn't official."

"On what little I'm given, and assuming all my limited information is a hundred percent? I'd say no. Now. I can think of a hundred different reasons, for a whole list of people to be watching a building. Most of them? Perfectly legitimate."

"What would you do."

"Please tell me you haven't fucked this up yet."

"Define… fucked up."

"Has everyone been pointing out the windows, scanning binoculars around?"

Elise laughed, and explained she yelled at me for thinking about that.

"Hey. Thank god for small favors."

"Before we decide what to do, you got a package for me…"

"Oh, yeah. Here…"

"Give me a little bit, would you?"

"Sure."

He was back in short order.

"I have good news, and bad news. Who wants what, first."