Chapter 47 - After the Storm

   After any bad storm, there's always the next morning. The birds are tweeting, the sun is out. You walk out after the powerful storm ripped through the night before, and you marvel at it. Storms can't last forever, but it sure as hell seems like they can, when a bad one is on and just when you think its going to let up, it gets worse.

   But, the morning comes, and there it is. Like I said. The birds, the sun. Some squirrel is running around, doing his thing. The people, too. We're just animals on this world, just like the squirrels, the birds, the rabbits. It seems like the animals are sometimes smarter than we are. One time during a bad storm, I had forgotten some things in the one barn. I got a poncho and my waterproof mud boots on, and zipped out to remedy it.

   It was weird. The flashbulbs of lightning, nature's time lapse photography had shown it to me. That was odd. The horses, and the cows and the other herd animals? Had gone up the slope, to the highest points in their respective pastures. I mentioned it to daddy, and he looked... funny. Shit, he exclaimed.

   The animals know when a flood is coming. We have a good creek that flows on the one edge of our property. It never runs dry, even in the heaviest droughts of summer. We're lucky to have it. But, every once in a while, it swells and spreads out. I hadn't ever seen it, I was young. Well, I got to see it. I also got to help as we got everything up we could, that was down on the low spots of our property. Then. Dad had me calling my friends. Anyone with a barn sitting low. You can go and carry what you can. Dad? Went and got a guy's tractor he was working on. Pulled it higher up, so it didn't get ruined. And dad's tractor? Moved the guy's expensive equipment up out of the water's reach, on account of his tractor was being worked on.

   For us it wasn't a whole lot. Mainly one barn and a few outbuildings. A couple chicken coops. We're in no danger of any kind of Noah flood. Its just a once in a blue moon annoyance. You have to move stuff up a few feet. Between me, mom and dad, grandma and grandpa, and all the farm hands we ever use coming in at once? We managed okay. Pretty quick. Then? Fan out and see who else doesn't have it quick like us.

   But the herd animals? They know its coming before the humans do. They head for high ground. How, no one knows. They do though.

   When there's a forest fire, you'll see herds of mixed animals hauling ass ahead of it. And most people are like this in real life, too. When its dangerous? You haul ass. You go the other way.

   Alphas and sigmas, though. You don't. Danger. Its coming. You look the other way. Into it. You move in that direction. Towards the scary thing. Its terrifying your first time, but then you settle down to just scared your second time. After a few times, it gets routine. Here we go again. If you have to, or for any other reason keep it up? It can get almost routine. Day at the office.

   That's what I got to be like, over my twenty odd year career of being an agent of karma. Little Lightning, said we're burned out adrenaline junkies. I honestly think not, I like to think that its just a sense that its our job. Pay's not so good, but you get all the hours you want. But? Like Panic admits. He likes to separate respect from fear. Rob doesn't. Semantics, to him. Respect, fear... word game in his book. And? I respect that. I also respect Panic's nuanced analysis of the same.

   Respect? Is your dad. He's all powerful when you're young, and he can hoof your ass with no repercussions if you don't follow your rules and he's had enough. Fear, is what you hold for the bully. Respect, is what Panic calls it when the power wielded is used responsibly. Fear, is when its used to no good end. I can see both points of view. Both are in their own way, right. Neither is really wrong.

   Panic, and Wizzy before him? Both held the belief that life can only be lived forwards. Yet curiously? It can only be truly understood in reverse. Hindsight truly is, twenty-twenty. And I mean to say, what really went on.

   We all know the golden rule. He who has the gold? Makes the rules. To the average person, you just pray that person has some sense of propriety. We used to have kings for rulers, and a noble class under them. Everything else? Commoners. The rules were different for both. Normally, I side with Panic. I embrace the nuance of respect and fear being different. On that note? Sorry, Rob. We agree to disagree, we zen on almost everything else.

   But? I have to agree with Rob on other things. We like to think that in modern first world society... we have civilization. We don't really. When most people say... democracy. What they meant to say, is democratic republic. True democracy, is simply mob rules. Convince fifty-one percent of the population. Mostly betas and easily influenced by the way, and you get whatever you propagandized.

   America, is not a democracy. Its a democratic republic. There's a reason we don't just have a vote, and that's that. The great unwashed masses, the largely beta population? Is easy lied to and misled. Just having a mass vote? That's called a referendum. Some propaganda, maybe a healthy dose of fear or respect. Whichever you refer to that bullshit as, and... there you go.

   If you just leave it all up to a vote. A full democracy? Its silly. You just promise people things. They vote for what sounds good, and... there you go. Someone has to have some other power. In a full republic? You have people that make the decisions. Not good either. You simply bribe or threaten them, and you get whatever you want. Again, not good. That's why we have the democratic republic principle.

   If you fool over fifty percent of the betas, which is the vast bulk of the population, and they are easily led... or misled as the case may well be. We're all fucked. If you can intimidate or by any other means, court the republic leaders? Same effect. As Rob would say... semantics.

   So, if you ever wondered why the electoral college elects the president, and not the popular vote? That's why. Its humorous. When the side that loses the election complains? You'll hear it. But, we won the vote! More people wanted us in there! However. Same side, and they win the electoral college, and lose the popular vote by some margin. Ha ha, the electoral votes is all that counts, suck it.

   You're hearing assholes. Whatever gets them their way, like children? They just shout that. As I've come to love Francois Verte's take on it? Grown up children. Adults, still acting like children.

   In the end. Here's what went on. A large cadre of rich assholes, sat and plotted and planned. I'm not talking millionaires, I'm talking billionaires. The real economy behind countries. You can elect whoever you choose? These are the people that can make bribes, oh. Excuse me. Campaign contributions? To both sides. Whoever wins? They still win.

   You can call them anything you wish. Old money. The nobles. The upper crust. If you ever wondered? I was amazed to learn, that there really is a Trilateral Commission. Yeah. Rich influential people? Really do have a club, and they really do meet and discuss... whatever. There's also, actually? A Bilderburger group. Its no conspiracy. They meet once a year, and discuss what's going to really go on in the world for the next year.

   You can elect whoever you want, these are the people that never change. The real movers and shakers, if you will. Europe went with the European Union, and I think it might have been a mistake. These assholes can control that, and in so directly control the member countries. America? We're a hair better off. But make no mistake, we have nobility in America.

   If you don't think billionaires really run things? You honestly need to get your head out of your ass. These people are above your... vote. They're above your laws, too. If you don't think that billionaires have a different standard, of... guilt? Again. Bend over, grab your ankles. Yell "POP!" really loud. Because? That's the sound of your head coming out of your ass.

   Not all of them. But, many? They're monsters. And all they understand, is the villagers coming for them with torches and pitchforks. Then, and only then, do they understand. That they fucked up. Shit. Should have lightened up.

   Over? Is a nice concept. Panic and JG, speak martian. Among the many things confiscated after the Bitches were dead in their supposed stronghold? Anything useful carried away. That included filing cabinets and laptops. Desktops are unwieldy. Panic took the hard drives out, for later examination. He speaks martian, and thank god for that.

   For obvious reasons? JG and Panic decided they alone should be trusted to go through the hard drives and laptops. Two more traitors were discovered. Thank you, Joan and Bonaparte. We took care of those sons of bitches.

   You should have seen their ever loving faces, when they were suddenly surrounded. Out of nowhere. Living? In their own version of paradise. I know. I was there. I had earned the right. We were all there. And they knew what time it was. Time? To pay the piper.

   Me. Panic. Faces? Dropped. Skykid, Rob, Vladimir. Pissed. Francois stood, and watched. They were in Thailand, by the way. Nice little spreads, too. Thought they were going to set themselves up all pretty, and live like warlords. Yeah, well. Thought? Shit himself.

   It came off of the laptops, seized from the Bitches mansion. JG and Panic found it. Following through. Two of Francois's men. Engine room men. His trusted two man Tadpole crew.

   Traitors. This, was who planted the plastic explosive charges. The two men entrusted to maintenance, service and operate the Tadpole. I had zero problem, standing impassive. Watching them get hacked to pieces. By Vladimir, and his ever so impressive Slavic razor. All I had to do? A fleeting thought. Of Little Lightning blown up. Or Panic, the same. Or? Elise. Sitting screeching, that her girlfriend was exploded into fish food. They had simply gone into the water, and survived the detonation they knew was coming. They just slipped in, we surmised. Letting the Tadpole idle quietly away some. Then they were scooped up and taken with. Dead, not looked for, no suspicion.

   I found it easy then, to not care and watch. One crawled towards me. I let him get close. Then, I kicked him in his face with all I was worth, with my work boot. I looked up.

   "Finish the job, Vlad. Focus and dedication."

   Then, down to the piece of shit I didn't pity in the slightest for his fate.

   "Loyalty."

   Vlad buried the Slavic razor in his skull standing over him, and nearly clove his eyes in two as I watched. Yeah. I'm able to flick my switch, and shut emotions off, as required. That's what comes from having your first lover's guts blown into your eyes and mouth twenty or so years back.

   Paint the devil on the wall, Vlad. Make it pretty.

   Elise is here, too. They damn near killed her girlfriend, her lover. She was supposed to be on the boat that day. She was pissed. Elise is also known in certain circles, as the Black Widow. She hunts rapists that kill their victims. For a career. Until now, anyways. Now she's Francois's wife's bodyguard. And lover. A mistress, essentially.

   She got us into this compound in Thailand. These fools, had one guy at the gate. She walked up. Pantomiming drunk. Something no straight man can resist. A drunken whore. After kissing him? She snapped his neck, and rotated it 180 degrees. I heard her too calm voice come over my earpiece.

   "Sentry down. No alert. Move in."

   It went perfect, but... I saw it. After it was over. We were all leaving. Elise looked at me. I could see it in her eyes. The little crinkles from age, just those little indicators at the edges of a woman's eyes, indicating age even if she makes her body an athletic temple and denies it all.

   Those cracks at the edges of her eyes, those early age crinkles. There was more. She was tired. I know that kind of tired. I've heard Panic make jokes about it. The kind of tired? That sleep can't fix. Too much violence, too many successful hunts.

   I just sat with her. No words. She stared at me. I stared back. Elise has an abyss for eyes. Its frightening, to see into it. I felt like the woman that confronted Vlad at the Moscow dance club. I'm not scared of her. She looked like she might cry? But, she didn't. She couldn't. Too many years of controlled or buried emotions. They can come back. Hers, were threatening to well up.

   I didn't know what to do. I held my hands out, and I hugged her. She buried her face in my neck. The only thing coherent I could make out? Its not supposed to be like this, is it. The rest, before and after? Incoherent. I was anticipating a complete breakdown, but no. She suddenly snapped out of it.

   I felt her strong hand grip my hair at the base of my neck. I went to pull or push, but there was no escape. She put her knee over mine, and I went back. She raped me with her mouth. There was no other description apropos for it. When she was done, she separated. I could taste her mouth, I could smell her breath. I was helpless, physically. I realized I was the same emotionally. I couldn't tell her no, one way or another. She licked my lips a couple times, then looked like she was embarrassed. She looked away, and slowly got off of me.

   Before it passed, I grabbed her face and brought it to mine. I told her it was okay, it was okay. I'm used to kissing big. That's what Lightning nicknamed it. I kiss... big. I take a firm grip and rape with my tongue and mouth. What Lightning taught me she did? She kisses... small. Little lip and tongue touches.

   I usually don't. I did. I kissed Elise... small. No one could see, no one would know. I told her it was all right. Her contorted face was something hard to describe. Half rage, half fear. Half... I don't know what. I have to invoke Panic here. I wasn't afraid of her. Its not simple fear. Its... respect? Not the right word, but something close.

   This is the woman brought in, on Wizzy's big case. His best friend from the MP's. She would vent about rapists going free, because scared women beat half to death wouldn't testify. It took her a while to realize. If she vented? They predictably turned up beaten practically to death in dark alleys and dark parking lots. They then had to learn to walk and talk again.

   She was Wizzy's first love. The ultimate tomboy, and she had been ruined. She started out straight. After beat to almost death in an alley by a sadistic rapist? She tried, but... ended up with girls only. We talked before and after. She knows. She just ended it as abruptly as it began.

   "I'm sorry."

   And? Walked away.

   Francois's plan was sheer genius. He suckered his enemies in, and fucked them hard. I always thought his early descriptions of what he was going to do to his financial enemies? Were hyperbole. Not so. He really did, put cock to ass. Brutally and with no remorse. He admitted later, privately. The idea? Had come from... The Count of Monte Cristo. The hero, Edmund Dantes. He made investments, and his enemies followed his investments. It led to their ruin.

   His revenge was predicated on something different. As the enemies attacked Liberia, thinking they were raising the price of his new Alsace-Lorraine? They were simply gaining him and his investment group ever more rights to coal and everything else. They paid for their help, in rights.

   First off, they weren't raising the price of the coal, they were simply delivering him more of it. His enemies? Were helping him, not hurting him. It was fucking brilliant for a first step. Once they finally realized it? It was far too late. The Vagner group continued. They drove deep into each Chinese backed and egged on country. A lesson had to be learned. The quick and hard lesson. Once his enemies caught on to that, they abandoned their proxy countries. They were at the Vagner group's mercy.

   Simply put, he annihilated them. Unable to fight once abandoned by their big brothers? The lesson was learned. In spades. China didn't love them. With no more usefulness? They were abandoned.

   At the end. GEIGer had all the rights. Now? Liberia began to reap the benefits. Rights are one thing. The extraction began. His "ocean son" brought in waves of used bulldozers. They began the conga line of anthracite first. That alone, paid for all the loss of over-funding the Vagner group for their efforts. Several hundred a ton, you needed a calculator to know the worth of a sea barge of anthracite coal. A true conga line started.

   Companies were set up waiting. Rail lines to transport it to waiting holding fields. Companies to push the now dropped price of the previously barely affordable high heat coal. As of now? The soft coal, the bituminous is starting, and it will take years to claim it all. Its coming to holding yards, and the steel mills are already firing up to take advantage along with the iron ore coming in on the other conga line of sea barges.

   The incoming president, had promised this. A secret plan to revitalize the manufacturing base of America. He had been laughed at. He now showed it happening.

   And. All those bad financial actors. Thinking it was going to be like it had been before, well. Everyone placed leveraged bets on the coal price rising. Long bets. Futures bets pay off bigger, the longer you take them out for. The thing is. You can lose your ass.

   Basically, you're providing a contract. I will agree to buy or sell. This many shares of stock X. At this date in the future, at such and such a price. Buying or selling, one is called a get, and the other a put.

   Its worth noting the most important part, though. Lets say you can only afford to buy 1,000 shares with how much money you have. You can only make money off of selling those 1,000 shares when they go up and you sell. But getting an option? You can get a contract that allows you to buy 10,000 shares, for the same amount of money. The amount to purchase such a buying option contract varies. If everyone and their uncle, sees the stock is rising, and figures it will continue to do so? It costs a lot more for the same contract. But, if everyone thinks the stock is falling and will continue to fall... its inexpensive to option a lot of shares.

   Its when you bet against the market trend, that the most money is to be made, for the least amount of contract price. There's another person on the other end of the contract. They are agreeing to own and sell that many shares, at that price.

   In general, the longer amount of time the option contract runs for... the cheaper it is to purchase. The more you are betting against what everyone thinks the market is doing and will do, the cheaper it is to purchase. So. You can control a lot more, with your amount of money. We're talking here, about billions at a time. On a very long contract, betting completely against the market.

   You could end up with a contract. That says you have the option to buy so many shares of stock X, at such and such a price. If you hold an option contract that guarantees you 10 dollars a share, and its trading at 100 a share at the specified future date because it broke out and went high? Obviously you made out. You don't even need the money to actually buy it, you just sell your option paper.

   If it went down, you tear up your option. Its worthless.

   Its when you agree to sell at a certain price, in the future that's riskier. You are now providing the option. If the person comes to collect their shares, and you can't cover your bet? You can lose your ass. That, is what Francois got all the bad actors on.

   In simple terms? They were all insider trading. They just "knew" the coal commodity, the futures? Would rise. Because that's what happened the last time this went on. Just attack the country with the find. Drive the price up. But, this time it didn't drive the final price up. Everyone was shocked. Francois just got more rights for defending Liberia. At his group's expense, yes. Early investment loss. But? They all placed huge bets on the coal going down. They made out like bandits, there.

   That was trap one. Trap two? Was that they could raise the price of the coal, as before, by speculation on the paper commodity. But? By being ready to take physical control of the commodity. Something by the way almost no large investment group ever does. He eliminated speculation. No driving the price up with a bidding war, with China bidding it up and taking it.

   Everyone? Lost... their...ass.

   They had no money to work with after he was done. And, there was nothing they could do. With their money pools gone, they had no more influence. No government or politician has any need to obey the wishes of a bankrupt entity.

   They had wielded their pools of money like weapons. But, like a man that can fight better? If you can suddenly rip the knife or gun out of your opponent's hand, well... they were powerless.

   They were so sure of the thing, he had baited them so well? They couldn't cover their losses. They had leveraged their "sure thing" so high, greedy... they were on the hook for more than they had.

   But, what of us.

   Once it was all over, I simply went back to my life. I followed Wizzy's advice. His council advice. I simply started filing "nothing to report" almost all the time. Mike looked at me, but never once said anything. Pretty sure he just thinks my heart isn't in it anymore, and I burned out. I'm just biding my time. What's anyone going to do? Fire me? Fine. I honestly don't care.

   Its looking like I'll just put time in and quietly quit. Doesn't matter to me.

   Vladimir "loaned" Panic money, based on a percentage of things we aren't supposed to have. Bitcoins acquired off of the Smiley Face Killers? Were at the time going for 60 grand per. They're 122 grand apiece now. What we had thought was shy of a million when Panic got them? Was worth twice that and more, when we went to cash them in with Vladimir. Even with the percentage we gave up, it was about a million and a half just there.

   Then there was the stuff Wizzy had taken off of the Mister Big the night we laid waste to the small town that needed taken down. The uncut diamonds? Took a while to quietly get appraised, and the same percentage to convert applied. That was almost another million and a half. The platinum suisse was another windfall.

   It was something like 4.3 million in total, after we paid the percentage to legitimize our ill begotten gains we held.

   The next "stockholder's meeting" that me and Panic held? We just looked at each other. Fuck it. We signed the entire cutting house over to Little Lightning. Well, JG got a nice percentage, even if Lightning is the senior partner. Junior is talking about vesting and retiring early.

   Those two pulled the trigger. Seeing Lightning happy like that, is priceless to me. We all four had a long heart to heart about her being pregnant. They elected to not find out if its a boy or a girl, until its born. JG gets a pretty wife with a successful business she owns, and a sort of instant family.

   He claims her as his wife, and the kid as his. With the understanding that Uncle Panic and Aunt Merry, are going to be major fixtures. When the kid's old enough? Maybe. When we're over, I can see Panic just staring at her stomach, beginning to show. She had to tell him it was all right, he was allowed to touch her stomach, talk to it. Junior didn't mind.

   He honestly looks like he could cry, but... I know he can't. He's just so quiet. He makes jokes. He can't wait to teach the kid, boy or girl? The exquisite art of sentry removal. Junior chuckled, and Little Lightning about spit food out of her mouth at the dinner table.

   Panic realized he had forgotten about the laboratory. The chromatography rig, the new one? Paid off out of cutting house profits. Its now a 20 year lifespan, and paid off. His partner, the tech he set up? Wants to know what they're doing. Panic asked. Wanna sell out? Or keep it.

   The tech decided he likes having something to do, but wants to just oversee it, and spend time with his wife and kid. Panic asked if he wanted to buy the rest. As he went. He does.

   Those big payments come in regularly.

   Panic "sold" it basically rent to own, pay as you go for his portion? More or less at half of what its worth. He kept ten percent, no matter what. He likes owning a small test laboratory.

   Then, there's the matter of the cash glut from running cocaine once a year. My handler okay's me making a giant pot run from south to here once a year. We get "FBI seals" for a trailer that make it foolproof. Panic's FBI consultant ID, and federal carry permit, and Class III full featured FFL? Amuse any cop that would stop us famously.

   We just never mention that the floorboards are completely stocked with as many kilos as possible, once a year. So, there's a couple million from that. Well, several million I guess. That's a bigger "loan", when added to the 4.3 already tendered.

   We suddenly realized. We're looking at 9.6 million. We paid off our "interest" that's really the conversion fee, up front out of it. 8.5 million, give or take left.

   We honestly, don't have much to spend it on. We don't want a new house, we love the bank and the trailer and shotgun shack. We went on a "spending spree" where we bought a bunch of work clothes, work boots, things like that. I bought a new dirt bike I always dreamed of. I mean... Whop Dee Do, you know.

   We took the half a million left over, and put the 8 million into Vladimir's discounting hands.

   Within about 12 days? Vlad had located a brokerage house. Listed our eight one million investment contracts with the GEIGer investment group. Discounted as guaranteed and sold outright? The 20 percent down to 15, netted five percent instantly.

   Eight contracts, five percent each. That's 40 percent of one million, in twelve days. We sat there, staring at the paperwork. Four hundred grand, in a hair under two weeks. No work. No risk.

   This just keeps happening. Every two weeks or so? Another 400 grand rolls in. Minus a few small fees, which isn't a large deal. We looked at each other. This? Is fucking ridiculous. By the end of one year of this? That's just over ten million.

   The original 8 million? Still there. Vlad is now doing this by this point, with the 10 million, with the original 8 million as well. 18 contracts? Five percent each, is 90 percent total. In two weeks.

   This only goes on so long. In less than another year, the 20 percent rates will have slowly gone down to 15. As the GEIGer group's investment capital gets closer to fully leveraged, it hits a point they can no longer cover all outstanding investments at this pace. No Ponzi scheme.

   But, the next phase comes on line. By then, the physical infrastructure will be complete. Meaning, the steel mills, the trucking companies, and all the periphery businesses are ready to assume full operations. The roaring twenties are already started, and about to take off fully soon.

   What we called the Queen's Gambit, after Joan's chess piece move? Immediately, Francois's wife was moved. She went with Elise. Francois doesn't care half as much about his own life, as that of his wife. She's sadly safer with Elise than standing next to him at that time.

   Francois is actually living in the states, under the assumed name of Francis Green. Thought to be dead, he's quite safe. No one looks to kill a dead man. His wife lives under her own assumed name, as Elise's girlfriend. They're actually intermittent but regular fixtures at the RLB range, though none of the regular members know who they really are. Francois gets a real kick about hearing people talk about him and the whole affair.

   Things are about to come together, though. Little Lightning is almost due by now to give birth. Panic and JG are both excited and nervous. When she's recovered after that, she's taking some maternity leave then getting ready.

   Francois's resurrection is planned. Any true messiah, financial or otherwise? Must first conquer death. He loves his American phrases. His planned one for this, early in the interview? Reports of my death, were maybe a little exaggerated.

   He decided to go with Little Lightning producing his documentary and interview. The Liberian Project is a half hour documentary. A couple minute brief history of what Liberia is and where it came from. A description of what its like, today. The rest is dedicated to what the project is. And, how Liberia will be a major contributor to the coming industrial rebirth of the United States. Instead of requiring the United States to help it, it will be now providing for its benefactor. Fueling the industrial rebirth of the United States and its manufacturing sector.

   Yes, its a puff piece for the GEIGer Investment Group. When the first half hour documentary ends? The next half hour is a thirty minute long interview. With, the man behind GEIGer and all the good its done. The big reveal, is that Francois is the man being interviewed. Light is going to be interviewing him.

   Money has been spent on this PR work.

   Two other half hour documentaries are not just planned, but gearing up to be next. One is an indictment of the international financial game. How billionaires secretly run whole countries and even continents like Europe. Naming names. Showing proof of shady dealings and outright financial crimes. Things like, oh... how elected and appointed officials all through the French and German government? All mysteriously bet on the long shot with coal futures. How all were involved in a giant insider trading scheme, while selling out the French people.

   Telling the story of exactly why so many large investment groups suddenly failed. And, what they were up to that led to it. The GEIGer Group will look like what it is. The underdog that took on the international finance game, and beat them back for a time. And, if the GEIGer group can do what its doing now, making its new host country happy and financially sound again... why can't the other investors have done the same thing. Instead of selling their countries down the river, and hopping to the next host country. Like so many locusts and leeches.

   Naming names, pointing fingers and launching obvious accusations.

   The other, is a half hour documentary on private military. The Vagner group. Explaining how they're all that stands between an American colony, and women and children being cannibalized by Chinese backed enemies surrounding them. One raw clip I saw, was chilling.

   "And, who are you, sir?"

   "I? Work in the ministry of defense, of Liberia. I am authorized? To answer your questions."

   "Can, you explain what's going on here? In a nutshell."

   "Yes. Many years ago? The Chinese come. They tell us. You? Will sell us all your coal. For this price. It was, very low. Practically stealing it. We say no. Why? Because. We, are here because of America. We will not sell our resources? To the enemy of our father country. That? Would be wrong. So? They threaten us with war, and to take what they want. And that? Is the start, of all the trouble. There? Is your nutshell."

   "Would you describe what happened next, leading up to today?"

   "Very easily. Yes. China, can not attack us directly. They risk open war, with America. But? What they do. They arm all of our neighbors? And fund them, and send them to attack us. Over and over again. In an attempt? To force us, to sell them our resources, cheap. We refuse!"

   "How bad is this war, and how long has it been going on?"

   "Many years now. And? It is the most horrible thing. They attack and kill young people, so we have less soldiers next time. They kill young women? So, there will not be a next generation to fight them off! They target old people? So, we will not have wise leaders, to guide us. They stick bayonets, in pregnant girl's bellies! They are eating people! To frighten us! And I tell you, we have had enough of it!"

   "What did you finally do about it."

   "I can tell you. That going to the United Nations? Is useless. Finally? We got some help. At long last. A group of investors came. They said. We? Will pay. Out of our own pockets. We, will hire professional soldiers. To fight and defend you. All we ask in return? Is the rights, to buy your resources."

   "So, they want your resources, just like the Chinese."

   "No. The rights. If we agree to sell the resources to them? We get defended. For free."

   "And, where will the resources go, when they finally buy them."

   "Where they should be going! To America! Not? To America's enemy, China. Liberia? Wants to be a first world nation, one day. We want... universities. Hospitals. A school in every village. We once had some of these things. Our enemies? Blow up schools and hospitals! The investors? Have signed contracts, to build these things. Liberia? Is finally on the road to where it wants to be. And I will tell you. The United Nations? Is the last place you should go if you are looking for solutions. All they do? Is talk and do nothing."

   "So, you don't feel as if... the investors, who want your resources? Are... taking advantage of you."

   "Hell no. The GEIGer Investment group? Is the only thing that is saving us. The rights, to the resources. Is... basically? A contract. A promise? That we will sell to them. And for that commitment? We finally get the help we need. To survive. Next, when we finally begin to sell the resources? The price, is above the market value. And. Once the investment in our security needs has been recouped? The investment group will begin to provide the other things. Jobs. Roads. Bridges. And? The schools and hospitals we need. This is a twenty year project. At the end of those twenty years? You come back, and you will see. All the other African countries? Will be jealous of what we have then. Once we have safety and security? We plan to have ecology tours. We want the world to come and see how beautiful this place is. But? You can not do this, when people are shooting at you, and eating your babies! It is unthinkable."

   "Thank you, sir. Now. This... very serious man standing next to you. Mind if I ask him a few questions?"

   "Please. This? Is one of the brave professional soldiers. Sent here, to protect us."

   "Hello. What's your name?"

   "That's classified, sir."

   "Well... what do I call you."

   "I'm Tango Bravo. Two, four, three. Pleased to meet you, sir."

   "Nice to meet you. Can, you tell me what you do?"

   "I pick blackberries for a living."

   "What?"

   "Just a little joke. Look at my uniform and equipment, I'm carrying weapons. I'm a professional soldier. Thought that might be kind of obvious."

   "I guess it is. Can, you tell me how the war is going."

   "I can. We're two years into this security project. And---"

   "Whoa. Security project?"

   "Yes."

   "Its not a war?"

   "Sir? I know this will sound silly, but... a war? Is a legal term. Until the United Nations declares it as a war, its not. Right now? Its legally, just... a security corporation, is providing security."

   "Really."

   "Do I look like a comedian."

   "No. You, seem kind of serious."

   "I am. Now. Are all the things going on, that the average person thinks of, as a war is going on? Yes, hell yes, and more. There are more, war crimes being committed against the Liberian civilians, than you can count. But? Be that as it may. Its technically, a private security operation, as of this morning. Now. You get the United Nations off its lily white asses? Fine. Until then? That's where we're at. Sorry to be blunt, sir."

   "No, no. Blunt? Is fine. Okay then. Can, you describe how the... security operation is going, then."

   "Yes. The initial phase, when we arrived. That's after our preliminary observers took a look around, and decided what we were up against. Liberia, the protection of which is our primary objective. Liberia, has several immediate neighboring countries. Who, are taking turns engaging in sporadic guerrilla raids. Typical actions of the hostilities, are to raid across the border, commit atrocities until they meet substantial resistance? Whereupon the hostiles retreat back over the border. When Liberia retaliates? They claim they're being invaded, and... the game continues. That's what we encountered when we arrived, sir."

   "Okay. Then what."

   "Well. The initial phase, was to defend. React. Repel incursions. We were successful? But it took time, to get our point across."

   "Okay. Then what."

   "The next phase, also already completed. Was to set up defenses at the borders. To prevent the hostilities, from reaching the Liberian civilians. Basically? We wanted to engage at the borders, and contain and repel them."

   "And, where are you at now."

   "Well. If you just sit on the borders, and fight every time they come in? You're reacting. You're not acting. This is a proxy war, sir."

   "Could you explain what a proxy war is?"

   "Sure. A proxy war, is when some larger country, doesn't want to actually fight? They fund and equip some country to come in and do their dirty work for them. Here? Its the Chinese."

   "Are, you sure about that."

   "Well, let's see. We keep locating and securing Chinese weapons. Chinese advisers. Chinese writing on all the paperwork we seize. Chinese equipment. Chinese ammunition. Chinese medical supplies. Of course? I suppose it could be the Dutch behind this, but... where do you think the smart money on that bet would go."

   "You have a way with words, sir."

   "Yeah. You should see me shoot."

   "I bet. Now, you said the border phase was, completed. What's next, or where are you at now."

   "Well. Once the border and internal security phase was completed? The next bit, is... we've been reacting up until now. On the defensive. We can keep that up for twenty years, get us nowhere. At some point? You gotta go on the offensive. Act, not react. And, that's where we are now."

   "How do you go about that."

   "Pretty simple, really. We've located where the hostilities emerge from? We're attacking them at their home bases. I mean, if you're not willing to carry the fight into the heart of the enemy territory? You're just whistling Dixie."

   "I'm a civilian. Can you explain for the viewers at home, what that accomplishes?"

   "Sure. To end the fight? You have to eliminate the enemy's capability to wage war. You have to take their will to fight away. You do that, by crushing their morale. By striking them at their home bases? You accomplish that mission. We're seizing and destroying and disabling all their material we locate, when we do it. As fast as the Chinese can resupply them? We're essentially waiting on it, and hitting them before they can hit us here. We're cutting off their supply lines. I mean, we're actually at the point now? We hit their supply lines, and seize the stuff. Then? Attack them with their own weapons and ammunition they were waiting on. Now, the weapons and ammo are crap, but, we use that up then we hit them with our own."

   "Really."

   "Waste not, want not, sir."

   "I see. So, sounds like you're close to winning."

   "I honestly don't know what winning, actually is. All I understand? Completing the mission. When the hostilities against Liberia have entirely ceased? Hey, we'll leave. Until then, though. We'll continue to take it to them."

   "So, what do you have to say about reports. That, Liberia? Has been attacking it neighbors, and its an aggressor nation."

   "Load of crap, you see on the news. Look. Years ago, when Liberia was being attacked on all sides. Where were the news reports, of those nations being the aggressors? Huh? Nowhere. Now that we're taking the fight to the enemy? Oh, we're the aggressor. Whatever. Put whatever crap you want on the TV. Doesn't change my mission, one bit."

   "Do you have any words, for the other nations in this... security action."

   "I don't know. Don't you people have anything better to do? What were you doing before you started attacking Liberia. Hunting? Gathering? Playing cards? Go back to that. Then, we'll be done here. Seriously. Sign a peace agreement, and abide by it. Surrender. Or? Put the weapons down, take the uniform off, and... just go home. Because the way this is going now, all the fighting is in their home area. We're pretty close to the next step. And, I don't think anyone is going to enjoy that."

   "What's the... next phase."

   "We're going to secure zones around and over the borders, and maintain them. Expand them. We're at the point now? We're taking territory. You want your territory back? Surrender, and sue for peace. The Vagner Group? We're not here to play tiddlywinks. Were in it to win it. We're here, to put a stop to the atrocities. Now. You get tired of all this? Fine. Quit fighting. We'll fall back to the borders, and maintain them. Simple as that. You will not get another deal."

   "Well? Thanks for your assessment."

   "Thank you for having me."

   The final thing planned? Once the fruits of everything are visible to the average American on the street. The new businesses are up and running, etc. Its time for the bows to be taken. This president now, was in office for four years. Then, he lost and was out for 4 years. Now, he's back in again. He always was talking about his huge deal he was working on. Saying that the four years he was out of office? He never quit working, he actually had time to get things done. That he structured a deal to actually restart the American manufacturing industry.

   This whole thing is his proof. The plan is that finally, him and Francois sit and have a friendly back and forth about the whole thing. Its Francois's just reward. He just wants to be the Candy Man again, and get to outdistance the whole... The Devil moniker.

   I was wondering why this late in the game, I was seeing Panic so quiet. He'd be staring off, calculating. Ruminating. I knew something was bugging him, I just didn't know what. After the umpteenth time of observing this, I gently quizzed him. I sat down next to his quiet form, and probed.

   "Honey?"

   "Hmm."

   "What's all the thinking about recently? I know you. Its something. I thought all this was over."

   "Well, it is. Just... a little detail bugging me."

   "What detail."

   "You remember the two engine room guys. The ones that planted the explosives on the Tadpole."

   "How could I forget them. Yeah, I definitely do. What about them."

   "Here's what bugs me. They're definitely the traitors. The Bitches one laptop? They were clearly busted. Being told where to plant the charges. Discussing how much they got up front, and how much they got after the deed was done. And, it makes perfect sense. They were the two that had access to the Tadpole all the time. They routinely serviced it, worked on it, and they were the guys that took it out and manned it, when it got used."

   I shrugged.

   "We know this. What's bugging you."

   "Think. That day? They knew Francois and his wife weren't on that boat. They still collect their payday, and we saw they had tons of money they shouldn't have had."

   I played along.

   "I guess I see your point. But, they were the traitors. There's no question of that much."

   He nodded.

   "True."

   I waited a little bit.

   "What do you figure, about this."

   "Not sure. Near as I can figure, trying to come up with scenarios. One possibility, is that when they realized that Francois and his wife's phones were on the boat? They knew what was coming. I'm guessing maybe they had no way to contact the hit team boat. And once the boat was blown? They still want their payday, so... they collect and get the hell out with their talents of silver."

   "Anything else."

   "This is all guesswork. But, they knew the right people weren't on the boat. If they had any way to contact the hit team, they would have. Another idea I have, is that once the boat gets blown? The wad's been shot. They now have to pretend the right people were on the boat, so they run and collect while the getting is good. They'd be scared that they're the obvious people to have planted the explosives, and not reporting finding it, doing routine maintenance. They need that bigger payday, to run on."

   I thought about it, and interjected.

   "Why wouldn't you want your two men on the boat? To be able to contact you. In case something went wrong."

   "It was a professional set up. Just in case the plan goes tits up, and gets found out? You don't want any connection leading back. The hit team could just float off into the sunset, no one the wiser if things went bad."

   I waited. Then I patted his hand on the arm of the folding camp chair next to me.

   "I can tell you one thing, for sure."

   "What's that."

   "I know this from the one murder investigator. You need to get enough of a handle on figuring out what went wrong. But, without a witness, or audio and video, something of that nature. There's always little things, that you'll never know for sure. This? Being one of them."

   He sighed.

   "You're right, of course."

   "Does... any of the possibilities change anything?"

   "Not to my knowledge. I mean, they were content to play dead, blown up in the explosion. Only being involved, provides an explanation. They're just the right guys to get to plant the charges. They know to get off the boat. Again, only someone in on it knows to do that. The fact they were busted talking about it, is just icing."

   "You gonna let this bug you?"

   "No. I just like to be thorough. I can't come up with any loose ends out of it."

   In the end? I find it personally of great satisfaction. To see Little Lightning finally, fully recovered and on her own. By that I mean, she has her own relationship. It seems high quality and serious. Do I miss her? Yes and no. I do miss her, in that I can't lie to you. I'm used to her sleeping next to me. Usually, she sleeps between me and Panic, and... I miss that I think, more than the actual fireworks of it all. Panic reports the same to me.

   Me and him, we're not bored sexually, just... what is the best way to explain it. Imagine you get a blowjob every so often, on some regular schedule. For years. And, one day. Planned on even... it ceases. No more warm lips and tongue. I mean, how can you not miss that. I think that's how we both feel.

   Elise continued her relationship with Francois's wife. She's about to finally be done being the bodyguard. She enjoys her girlfriend, her girlfriend enjoys her. She'll continue essentially, being the mistress to his wife.

   There was that bit of strangeness, when she forced herself on me a bit, then retreated off and apologized. She eventually started coming around again, after a short break afterwards. After several times, she started talking to me. And by that I mean, with me talking a little like a therapist. Her, sounding a little like a client.

   That thread established, it continued. She seemed to want to finally open up. After a rehash of what I already knew about her history, she went in and I got details as I asked and she answered frankly. Basically put, she admitted she had been a hundred percent straight, before being beaten half to death and left for dead during the violent rape that hit her in her teenage years.

   Again, this wasn't new information. What followed though, was. She admitted. Her inability to form a male-female relationship after her violent rape, directly led to her accepting tiny advances from another rape survivor that grew until... she was a lesbian. She admitted frankly? It never would have happened in a million years, were it not for the rape and how bad it was.

   Not really new information. What was new and floored me? What I had long suspected, she just spurted it out in a session. Wizzy. He liked her, he chased her a bit, and... she had to rebuff him and tell him what she was. But now she admits. It hurt.

   "I... didn't know that a guy could be so sweet and polite. I mean, I wanted to, you know. But, by then? The mold had been cast, I thought. And? Here was this guy. He'd just hear me complain about, rape victims? And, just go out and take revenge. I mean, that he did it was one thing, but... a guy only does that? For... a daughter, a girlfriend. Or? To impress some girl. But, he didn't ask for anything for it. He pretended he wasn't doing it."

   "Well, how do you know he did."

   "I... started keeping track. I made a mark on the calendar. When I mentioned one. Then? It just happened. After a couple marks? It was no way it was an accident. If I mentioned, a victim... that was it. They, ended up in critical care."

   "Wizzy... couldn't take it, seeing that."

   "Merry. I felt so guilty. I mean, here I am. A full time lesbian. A bad rape survivor. I hate men, and... here's this sweet guy. He, just tried. So hard, so long, and... finally gave up. Still? Best friends though. And... with, nothing from me? Not a kiss, ever. Just, for sitting and talking to me. He'd... go and do... that."

   "Elise?"

   "Yeah."

   "You... still like men. I mean, some part of you."

   She gave a brief nod. Like, a person admitting they were a thief.

   "But, you're scared to try."

   She nodded.

   "Why didn't you try. With Wiz."

   "Scared."

   "Of what."

   She looked like a little kid after a bad nightmare they didn't understand.

   "I don't know, just..."

   "Shh. Okay. After that, men are a phobia."

   She nodded. Fright in her eyes. This was all scary for her.

   "Can you tell me, what this fear is?"

   "I... wanted to be, normal. And? I just couldn't. I wanted to be, though."

   "What's... normal to you, Elise."

   She puckered up, then got herself under control.

   "With a guy. You idiot."

   "Let me ask you a series of questions."

   She nodded.

   "Wiz. Did, he ever scare you?"

   She shook her head no.

   "Did, you ever once think, he could do anything, even... remotely close to that."

   She shook her head no.

   "He was so..."

   "I know. He was."

   She nodded. He had been her best friend. Now? I'm seeing she kind of liked him, maybe even loved him.

   "Elise? You had... years with Wiz. At some point, if you were going to even hint to him, you'd have done it."

   "Well. Will you get mad?"

   "No. Never."

   "We were best friends. Sometimes? He'd be staying over at my crib. There was one place we went sometimes, if it was a Friday or Saturday night? He'd sleep over."

   "How did that go."

   "The usual thing. He'd get my sleeping bag. On my bedroom floor."

   "Go on."

   "We'd... see each other? In our boxers. Getting to go to sleep. And..."

   "What."

   "I... it was winter. I told him. Screw it. Just come up here."

   "In your bed."

   She nodded.

   "Nothing happened?"

   "No."

   "Did, you want it to?"

   "Maybe. Just a little. I mean, if I was drinking? I'd get the idea, but..."

   "Only if you were drunk."

   She nodded.

   "So, alcohol lowers inhibitions. You think, if you were drunk enough, you could maybe go through with it. Try being with a guy."

   "Not any guy? Just... him. Maybe."

   "Okay. So, you got him up into your bed. What happened."

   "I, pretended I was drunk and fell asleep."

   "Okay. I mean, its Wizzy. Not, like he was going to ravish a drunk chick. Let alone his friend."

   "I know. I... kind of made it, like... I rolled over in my sleep. Just, happened to flop my arm and leg over him. We're both in boxers, I got my T shirt on."

   "Did, you like how that felt?"

   She nodded yes. But, scared to.

   "What happened."

   "He woke up. Figured out I was on him, and... complained."

   "Elise. I have to guess. Because he's not here to ask him. Okay?"

   She nodded yes.

   "Honestly. Wiz, hit on you for a while, right?"

   "Yeah."

   "Okay. Then. You had to tell him, you liked girls."

   "Yeah."

   "You became best friends, though."

   "Definitely."

   "Now. This. My best guess? Is... you know how much of a gentleman he was. He... had to say that, because? I always thought he liked you. Yes, like that. But he knew he couldn't."

   "Yeah. That would be him."

   "Did you feel, Wiz was your... last chance to try to be with a guy? Like that."

   She nodded yes.

   "Okay. I'm going to tell you a story, okay?"

   "Sure."

   I told her about how I thought Panic, was Wizzy come back, or some part of him come back. How I knew that was crazy, but still. How Lightning felt it too, though she stopped short of as far along to believing it as I was. And how that led directly to Light and me, having with Panic what we had shared with Wizzy.

   Elise just looked at me.

   "What are you saying."

   "I'm asking. Do you feel... anything? For Panic. Maybe, that slight thing you felt for Wizzy. Because, regardless of I'm crazy as a loon, they are so much alike."

   She said nothing.

   "Elise? I won't be mad."

   She nodded, a little one. Ashamed to admit it. Like a little kid, afraid to admit they stole a candy bar.

   "Elise? I'm feeling like this is a therapy session. But... what I say next? Is very unprofessional. Personal."

   She looked at me. Waiting.

   "Does all of this, what we're talking about. Have anything to do with you... kissing me that night?"

   She nodded yes.

   "How."

   She explained, in roundabout terms. That everyone knew we were a threesome couple. It was no secret, and far from it. She hinted around, until she explained that she knew me and Light had contact, even if only with Wizzy. Then, with Panic the same way. I had to drag it out of her gently at that point. She had the idea, that if she could kiss me? It could somehow lead to her... trying to be with both of us. Which, would lead to her being with a guy. Which, was her main focus to try.

   "Elise? Does this have anything to do with that night... we were all wrecked on the beach."

   She admitted, that had sparked it. It was the things he said, the jokes he made. The brazen if comical comments he made the next day.

   "Elise. Are you asking, if its possible? Now that Little Lightning is gone that way."

   She shrugged.

   "I'm not asking for all of that. But, its not like I'm not asking at all. For, something."

   "Well. Glad you cleared that one up, so your therapist has the foggiest notion."

   Elise cocked her head at me.

   "What, Elise. Even if this isn't, as you put it. Official therapy? Its still something. And, even if I wanted to. We can't just have conversations. Where one girl goes, do you think? The other says back, what. Then its, you know... then you get a yeah."

   Elise shrugged.

   "I don't talk like that. You know me."

   "Me neither, Elise. You know me."

   "So..."

   "Elise? Do you want some standard, therapist 101 stuff?"

   "Sure."

   "All right. Before I do, though. Question. Do you wonder, if you're a regular girl. Underneath it all. By that I mean. You dated boys, before... what you insist on calling... the incident. Years ago when we talked a little? You admitted. You still liked boys, after. You just... were scared to be intimate with the boy. No matter how slow, when the time came for that first kiss. You freaked."

   "Merry? I think I can put this into words. If that's what you need."

   "Words help. Sure."

   "A boy liked me. That I liked. I mean... after the incident. And? I liked him. I just... I'm scared. Simple as that. What I wanted? And it just isn't realistic. Was, some guy that liked me. That I liked... to just... go slow. And, I mean so damn slow? Like it wasn't even happening. And, I know that's just not possible."

   "I'm a therapist, Elise. There. You just communicated? In plain English. What was going on. Now that? Is a huge breakthrough."

   "Really?"

   "Sure thing. Now. That night. The time, you guys went out and got drunk. He's in your sleeping bag, on the floor. Its winter. Hey, get up here. What... not what did you expect, but... what would have been your perfect thing to have happen."

   "Can I back up, then come back?"

   "Sure."

   "I knew he liked me. Like that. Plain and simple."

   "You told me. Hell, Wiz told me that much."

   "Okay. We got to be friends. Then good friends? Then best friends. And, never once. Did he... nothing."

   "Elise? I'm going to launch an arrow, with a blindfold on. You tell me, if I ever get near anything resembling a target."

   "Shoot. Pun intended."

   "You know he liked you. You know you liked him, even if you knew it was impossible."

   "Yeah."

   "You... weren't dating, but. After a long time. Maybe a couple years. You thought, maybe, you had a chance. For it to maybe be like... what you described. The, guy that liked you and dated you, and it was so slow it was like it wasn't happening. Even though it was. The, impossible? Seemed like it might be possible."

   "Nice shot. Edge of the bullseye, maybe."

   "Yeah. Now, can you go back, to... that night. What would have been, perfect."

   "Well? What normally happens. With a boy and a girl. Couple hours, couple days... with me? Would have to be, a couple years. I see couples. I used to date, as a teenager. A couple hours into the first date? You start, standing close. Arms around or holding hands. At a get together for movies? Maybe you lay on the floor together, and watch the movie."

   "Initial closeness. Traditional dating, the object is to see if the pair can be closer, than normal social standards. At least comfortable doing it, preferably even excited about it."

   "I guess. So. Perfect? Would have been. I thought he was asleep. I could just happen to... roll over in my sleep, and. See what it was like."

   "But he jumped. Stop that."

   She nodded.

   "If Wiz hadn't jumped. If you could have anything. What was next."

   "Maybe? That could become normal. Comfortable. When he stayed over? It was normal."

   "I think I'm getting the picture. Wiz, was the closest thing you ever encountered? Where, anything close to, your impossible couple year plan, might..."

   She nodded. Looking away. Embarrassed.

   "Question. If that would have become... normalized. Every weekend, you have a human Teddy Bear. If you could, design it perfect. Where would it go."

   "Oh, wow. Fantasy? Standard female barracks. Four bedrooms, off of a shared bathroom, small kitchen, and a living room. My room mates were out for the weekend, and... I get to make him breakfast. Then, when he's just about to leave? I tell him to have a nice day. At the door. Maybe, that becomes normal, every weekend? Sneak that kiss on the cheek in. Like, sending a kid off to school. I know, like a mom kissing your cheek, but... that's how it started in grade school, right?"

   "And he doesn't freak out, he just goes with it. Likes it."

   She nodded.

   "And, I know this is impossible. It, just doesn't work like that."

   "But if it did. What. You said, like grade school. You... sneak that hand holding in. One day."

   She nodded.

   "Elise? I have to guess. Wiz isn't here to ask, but. He came to my university. He would only ask out? Female athletes. He had a type he wanted, it was obvious. Tall, strong, first string. But? Feminine. And at my big university? That's... a serious tomboy, at that stage of that game."

   She said nothing.

   "I always wondered. Where he got a taste for that. And, he didn't just want laid. He wanted the real deal. Your girlfriend? Is your best friend. I mean, I'm going out on a limb here. He might have even been looking? For a... straight version? Of... you, Elise."

   She cried a little but nothing serious. Couple seconds, then apologized.

   "Its fine, Elise. You, never had any real therapy. Like you should have gotten. After, your incident."

   "What would that have done. Fixed it?"

   "Well, look at where we are now. This? Was, one of those... breakthrough sessions. And? It really didn't take us that many hours, to get here. And, this is how many year later. If this would have been started, properly, back then? Like it should have. You... look. Just think. What we just discovered together? Imagine, you went to the service, just the same. But, knowing this. That... fantasy you describe? Might very well have been possible. And, you would have been desensitized. Just a little bit, to where... maybe the couple year impossible scenario you would have required? Might have been, maybe... six months. Instead of six years."

   She teared up some, but it passed quickly.

   "My mom. Damn her. Her whole, honey? Put this behind you. Don't let anyone know. Or, you'll never land a decent husband. But... I maybe could have, came home six years later, and... what. Still been a cop, but... with a husband. That, was my best friend. The way it used to be in the old days. The way its supposed to be. And, lived a normal life."

   "It well could have been like that. You're thinking that would have been with Wizzy, aren't you."

   More tears, more nodding.

   "Elise? As a rape therapist. I wasn't. But, its not like I didn't go through... hell. My own hell. And you? Know what it was."

   Tears. Nods. Looking down.

   "Elise? Let's look at this, from karma's point of view. Okay?"

   "Sure."

   "If, you had never... the incident. You never go away, and become an MP. The universe? Needed that. Not very many women? Could do what you did. All those rapists? Don't get stopped. And? My Wizzy, doesn't get to be best friends, with you. He doesn't come to my university? Looking for what he was looking for. A tall, feminine starting female athlete. I don't get my Wizzy. Lightning? Never got what she got. That whole town, is still running like it was, all this time. Then? I don't go through... my own... incident. Which? Look what ended up coming out of all that, eventually."

   "A lot."

   "No, Dirty Dozen. No, cleaning up the DC city force. The Smiley face killer? Still running around. Hell, I never get my Panic. Little Lightning? Gets killed. Or, kills herself. Or kills someone in her hometown that deserves it, but goes to jail for 20 years anyways. And in the end? All of us. We're not there, to handle Francois."

   She got quiet, and looked away.

   "Wiz gave his life, to help people. And... all of this doesn't happen, without that."

   I nodded.

   "Elise? We're getting close to dinner."

   "Okay."

   "Now. I have to tell you. You, are some kind of... star client. You're making me look good."

   She smiled, sheepish.

   "Aw. Quit buttering my ass up. I know I'm all fucked up."

   "No. I mean it. After this many years, this... nothing is impossible, but. This, really shouldn't be happening. Not statistically, anyways."

   I'm not kidding, either. Its like the universe, karma... its done with her now, too. Maybe. You never really know. Sure seems like it, though.

   "So. What's next."

   I sighed.

   "Honest? Most clients don't even know what they want. What we had today? Was, just. I meant it, breakthrough stuff. So, what I'm thinking. Next time? We... talk about some specific goals. I'm thinking, something that lets you, what. Poke your finger into the pudding bowl, see if you like it or not."

   "Like?"

   "I have ideas. For, exercises. Desensitization. As slow as you might like. But, I'll pitch that, next time. Okay with you?"

   She nodded, and smiled.

   We went and saw about our dinner plans.