LOS ANGELES
by
SANDEFUR
Disclaimer: This is fanfiction just for fun. I have no claims.
From the diary of Helen Girardi, 6-16-07…
Joan is finally off on vacation with an official sanction from God. I'm so glad because I've been terribly worried about my eldest daughter. Her workload at college has been grueling, and her many assignments from God never seem to ease. I've never seen Joan so stressed, and obviously near the breaking point. I wish I could do more to help, but Eleanor dominates out lives now. Hopefully, the next six weeks of summer vacation—without assignments—will give Joan the recharge she needs.
X X X X X
At the huge LAX airport, Joan Girardi waits patiently at the luggage carousel for the appearance of her bags. A buzz from her cell phone alerts her to an in-coming text…
'Running 20 minutes late. Sorry. Kev.'
Joan shrugs and looks around at the varied crowd of visitors from around the world. Potentially, you could meet anyone here, but Joan smiles as she recognizes a familiar face not far away…
"Ms Lishack? Is that really you?"
Lishack, holding her toddler daughter turns and smiles at Joan. "Joan Girardi, what an amazing coincidence seeing you here in L. A."
"I was thinking the same thing. Hello Emily, do you remember me?" Joan asks.
In response, Emily buries her nose in Lishack's bosom. Lishack laughs. "Sorry about that Joan. Emily has hit that super shy stage. It's hard to believe only a couple of months ago every new person was her new best friend."
"Well, she's adorable. How old is she now?"
"Seventeen months. Emily and I are here to spend the summer with Dana."
"How is Mr. Tuchman?"
"Quite well. He recently inherited his aunt's home in Pasadena—the dear old lady passed away after a long illness. Dana's need to be near her kept him from having much father/daughter time with Emily. We plan to make up for that this summer."
"Is he picking you up?"
"Yes, I just got a text message he is on his way from the parking lot. What about you? What brings you to Los Angeles, Joan?"
"Summer vacation. My brother Kevin is an associate producer on a show called 'Improper', and he is financing a much needed rest for yours truly."
"Ah, it sounds like college burnout has hit right on schedule. Don't let it get you down, Joan. You'll be amazed how just a few weeks of rest will prepare you for the challenges of the coming semester."
"I hope so. I've managed to maintain good grades so far, but the work is a lot harder than I expected. I'm really looking forward to working on my tan and vegging out this summer."
"Well, good luck with that. Don't forget to enjoy some of the more popular tourist attractions. For instance, we plan to go to Disneyland this week to see Mickey Mouse."
At the mention of this name, little Emily raises her head and asks in her tiny voice, "Mickey?"
"Yes sweetheart, you, me and Daddy will be seeing Mickey in a few days."
Emily smiles, until she notices Joan's interest. Quickly, she returns her face to her mother's bosom.
"Sorry Joan, it takes her awhile to get use to people. When we're out, Emily spends half her time with her nose buried in my cleaveage."
"Yeah, I've had dates like that."
Lishack laughs. "Would you like to join us at the front entrance? I'm sure Dana would love a chance to see you again."
"Sorry, I'd like to, but my bags haven't shown up yet."
"Well, here's my number…and if you would like to join us for lunch, or accompany us to Disneyland, you are more than welcome. Oh, the three of us also plan to attend a reunion concert by my favorite 80's band at Dodger Stadium, a week from today. If that would interest you more?"
"I'll keep it in mind, and give you a call. It was nice seeing you again, Ms Lishack."
"You too, Joan. Wave goodbye, Emily."
As Lishack walks away, Emily briefly raises her head and gives Joan a tiny wave. Joan sighs as the adorably cute child is lost from view in the milling crowd. Someday, sadly not very soon, she will have a child of her own. That basic biological imperative stirs within her on a regular basis. Still, it might help if she had a boyfriend to help matters along. This circumstances-imposed virginity of hers is beginning to wear thin on Joan's nerves. It was time. Heck, at 19, it was overdue. Joan muses on the idea that she will soon be reuniting with her extremely sexy ex-boyfriend, Dylan Hunter. Technically, she and Adam were still an official couple, but they haven't seen each other in nearly a year. Plus, while Adam has been at Berekley, they have had an agreement to date other people. So, if she wants, she and Dylan…
Joan's thoughts are interrupted by an intense moment of spiritual distress. Although she hasn't been taking a 'read' on the crowd, someone nearby is setting off alarming vibrations. Joan scans the crowd, expecting to find a demon, or more likely, a demon possessed person. A man around forty, strongly built and fierce in appearance, walks by. He isn't demon possessed, but he doesn't need to be. Human beings were quite capable of intense, destructive personalities all on their own. This man, with the military style crew cut, is such a being. His soul is consumed with rage, revenge and violence. Joan shivers from the intensity of this man's potential for destruction.
Joan automatically follows, looking for airport security. She has nothing specific she can report, but her every instinct says spread a warning about this danger. It doesn't take Joan long to spot an L.A.P.D. sergeant with a SWAT marker on his bulletproof vest. She approaches, and notices his nametag says, Sullivan.
"Excuse me, Sergeant."
"May I help you, Miss?"
"I'm…just not sure. I don't want to cause an unnecessary fuss, but I thought I should tell someone of what I suspect."
"You've spotted a problem?"
"Well, I'm not certain. You see that man over there in the blue jeans and army fatigue jacket…?"
"Yes."
"Well, a few moments ago we happen to brush by each other, and I could swear I felt something hard and…metallic under his jacket."
"Like a gun?"
Joan gives Sgt. Sullivan a look of sweet innocence before replying, "I could be wrong. I probably am, but I thought it best to say something, what with the world being the way it is these days."
Sullivan takes in Joan's look of lovely innocence, and is moved by a protective instinct, with just a touch of sexual interest. Quickly, he suppresses that thought. He's a happily married man. Still, the urge to accommodate this beautiful young woman was very strong…
"Okay, I'll check it out. Thank you, Miss."
"Just doing my duty." Joan says as she walks away. Okay, she probably shouldn't have lied about the non-existent gun, but someone needed to take action, and she is on vacation!
Sgt. Sullivan follows the man in the fatigue jacket, noting that this is a potential source of trouble - obviously ex-military, and with an attitude that won't quit. Sullivan berates himself for not noticing the man himself. The sergeant radios the three other men assigned to him as to where and what he is doing. Slowly, subtly, they begin to close in on the target. Technically, the four of them were there to back up a couple of Homeland Security agents, but there was nothing for any of them to do. The arriving person-of–interest is simply to be followed. No one expects trouble from her, but this guy…
As the suspect gets to a relatively open area where he can review the arrival boards, he notices for the first time the police officers closing in on his position. He reacts quickly. The man runs for the nearest exit, knocking people down as he goes. The four cops pursue, shouting the traditional warnings of 'Freeze' and 'Hold it'! The chase is brief, for the crowd is just too thick to make a run through. The suspect is tackled by Sullivan, who quickly handcuffs the incredibly strong man. He screams obscenities at them. Just as the cops are dragging the suspect to his feet, one of the federal agents, a young Asian-American man named David Chung, arrives looking annoyed.
"Sullivan, what the hell? You were suppose to remain quietly in the background unless we signaled you. And who is this clown?"
"I'm not sure. I got a tip this guy might be carrying a gun."
Sullivan looks to one of his men who has just completed a pat down. The other cop shakes his head 'no'.
"Looks like your tip was wrong. Who are you Mister, and why did you run?" Chung asks.
The man sullenly replies, "I-I got post-traumatic distress syndrome, from my time in the service. When I saw all of those uniforms suddenly closing in on me…" (The man shudders.) "I just panicked. I couldn't help it. My medication doesn't always control the stress."
One of the other cops examines the suspect's I.D. "Got a V. A. card here in the name of William Brown."
Chung groans and turns on Sullivan. "Let this man go, and get back to your posts. Fortunately, our target hasn't departed her plane yet. And I wiil be making a report of this to your watch commander."
Sullivan moans his dismay as he reaches for his handcuffs key. That's what he gets for relying on small head thinking. Before the suspect can be released, another and considerably older federal agent joins the group.
"Chung, what's this all about? Can't an old man enjoy a quiet moment with a cup of coffee?"
"Sorry sir, a case of mistaken identity. We're releasing this man with our apologies."
The older agent approaches the suspect and examines him carefully. "That might not be such a good idea. Do you know who you have here? This is Hobart Smith, and he's on the top ten most wanted list."
X X X X X
In the home-slash-office of Mick St. John, he is playing host to his best friend, Josef Kostan. Both men appear to be around thirty, but Mick is over 80, and Josef is more than 400 years old.
"I hate to rush you Josef, but you need to drink up and go."
"Why the bum's rush, old friend?" Josef asks as he drains the last of the blood from his wineglass. "Mick...how can you drink this old stuff?"
"I like to think of the A-positive I get from the morgue as being like aged beef. At least I think I used to like aged beef. Besides, you never turn it down."
"Just trying to be polite, and as for the taste of beef, aged or otherwise...? I don't remember. After four centuries, I've forgotten what food tastes like. Except for honey. I definitely remember liking honey. Sadly, the closest I can come to that now is the blood of a diabetic... So, are you expecting a hot date?"
"A client."
"On a Saturday afternoon? Really Mick, you're letting this quaint little detective hobby take over your life. Blow off this client and come to tonight's party. I promise you first pick of the freshies."
"A generous offer, but I take my 'quaint' business seriously. Maybe next Saturday? I assume there will be another one then?"
"Why break a century long tradition?"
The doorbell rings. Quickly, Mick hides his and Josef's glasses and the wine bottle filled with blood behind a secret panel.
"Remember, you're just leaving, and be on your best behavior."
"Spoil sport."
Mick uses an electronic clicker to open the heavily reinforced door that leads to his home. A young couple cautiously enters. He is tall and muscular while she is beautiful with honey blonde hair. They pause to take in the luxurious loft apartment, which is located in an old office building in the near downtown area. The upper floors have been converted into expensive condos.
"Mr. St. John?" the blonde asks, looking back and forth between the two men.
"At your service...Stevie Marx? And this is my friend Josef Kostan, who was just leaving."
"And this is my boyfriend, Dylan Hunter. He came along for moral support. I hope that's okay?"
"Certainly. Many clients feel the need for an arm to lean on."
Josef says, "Mick, I'll leave you to your business."
As Josef heads for the door, Stevie says, "Wait. Josef Kostan, the billionaire?"
"That's not exactly how my business card reads. How do you happen to know a humble businessman like myself?" Josef asks with an edge to his voice.
"I'm a business major, and one of my assignments was to profile one of today's rapidly rising business leaders. Your success as a hedge fund manager is legendary, especially for one so young. Oddly, I could never find a file photo of you."
"I've always been camera shy." Josef says with a smile. As a vampire, traditional film could not capture his image. Only the recent advent of digital cameras made vampire photography possible.
Dylan comments, "Now I remember your name..."
"Oh, are you a business major too?"
"No sir, pre-med. You recently donated a million dollars to a non-profit lab doing research into blood diseases."
"A long time interest of mine. Now if you'll excuse me, I must run. I'm hosting a party this evening."
Josef exits, and Mick waves his two visitors toward the chairs in front of his desk in the office area of his home.
"You have an interesting choice in friends." Dylan comments, recalling some of the dark rumors hinted at in tabloid papers about Josef Kostan.
"Yes, Joesf is quite an original. We've been friends for...years. Now, Miss Marx, how may I help you?"
Stevie hesitates, organizing her thoughts. "I'm going to have to go back a long way in order to explain my problem. When I was two, I was kidnapped by a woman named Alice Sokel..."
"Kidnapped as a child?"
(Dylan takes note of St. John's strong reaction. Apparently this strikes a nerve with the detective.)
Stevie continues, "It was done for my own good. You see, my natural mother was a drug addict who abused and neglected me. The social worker on my case, knowing the courts would not act in my favor, took me in order to save my life. 'Alice' adopted the names Erica and Stevie for us, and later married a man named Charlie Marx, who thought I was Erica's adopted daughter. I have always considered these two wonderful people my true parents."
"When did you learn the truth?"
"Over two years ago. I was living in Arcadia Maryland, and a dispute over my social security number led to the truth coming out. Mom plea bargained, and got a three year sentence on a single count of interstate flight to avoid prosecution. The minimum security facility she was sent to is here in southern California. Dad had a business opportunity out here, and so we were able to move to L. A. to be close to Mom."
"This is an interesting story Miss Marx, but where do I come in?"
Stevie begins to tremble with emotion. "A little over a year ago, prison officials notified Dad and me that Mom died of a sudden heart attack. Without notification or permission, they had her body cremated. The prison apologized for the error, but there was nothing that could be done. A few days later, on the way home from the internment ceremony..."
Stevie begins to weep. Dylan takes her into his arms until she calms down. Dylan says, "There was a car wreck, and Charlie Marx died."
"I'm sorry for your loss, both of them, but again, what do you want me to do?"
Stevie removes a letter from her bag and hands it to Mick. "This came in yesterday's mail."
Mick takes the letter and reads aloud... "Miss Marx, I am sorry I had to wait so long to contact you, but the prison monitors all mail and phone calls. I was only just released, and my conscience compels me to send this letter. I can't afford any more trouble with the feds, so I won't sign this note. On the night your mother supposedly died of a heart attack, I secretly saw her being escorted out of our cell block by a couple of federal agents. Erica walked out under her own power, and in apparent good health. I don't know what this is all about, but now you know the truth, and I will finally be able to sleep at night. A Friend."
Mick folds the letter and puts it on his desk.
Stevie says, "As you can imagine, I'm stunned by this news."
"And you want me to help find your mother?"
"No, my Mom is dead...she has to be. The alternative is too impossible to think about. I want you to find 'A Friend' so I can confront her. I have to know why she is telling this cruel lie."
Mick hesitates as he listens to Stevie's heartbeat. She isn't being fully honest. "I think, in your head, you don't believe this strange note, but in your heart, you desperately want it to be true. Deep down, you feel that Erica Marx is alive..."
X X X X X
At the Los Angeles branch of the Counter Terrorism Unit of Homeland Security, Senior-Agent-In-Charge Jack Bauer is being briefed by the two agents from the airport. Agent Saul King, in his 50's and only two years from retirement, is an old friend of Bauer's. His 26 year old partner is David Chung (and the victim of someone's warped sense of humor in the personnel department).
"Run that by me again. Hobart Smith, wanted felon and the leader of the Brotherhood of American Blood, returns to this country for the first time in two years and wanders all over LAX unrecognized?"
Chung responds, "He made an effort to disguise himself: shorter hair of a different color, a mustache, glasses..."
King adds, "The fact is, we just got lucky. A SWAT sergeant got an anonymous tip that our bad guy might be carrying a gun. It wasn't true, but we lucked into a major breakthrough in Operation Pureblood."
"Except in the confusion of the arrest, you two lost the woman you were suppose to follow. Now the `martyr's widow' is out there somewhere, involved in who knows what."
King says, "This is the first time Brenda Smith has left the northwest in a decade. Both her and Hobart Smith appearing at LAX at the same time can't be a coincidence."
Chung asks, "I thought Brenda Smith wasn't involved in the day-to-day activities of the Brotherhood?"
Bauer replies, "Up until now she's been exclusively their propaganda queen. She recruits new members with her sad tale of how her innocent husband was brutally murdered by thuggish federal agents."
Chung hotly retorts, "The official story is that Leon Smith was a drug dealer who was killed while resisting arrest."
Bauer gives Chung a pitying look. "Yeah, the 'offical' story."
King adds, "With both of the Smiths in town, and with the reports we've been getting of Brotherhood members slipping into the L. A. area, they must be planning something very big and very bloody."
Bauer nods. "At least we have Hobart Smith to interrogate, thanks to our anonymous tipster..."
X X X X X
"Your sister is weird." Barbara Greyson whispers as she rests in the arms of her beloved.
Kevin whispers back, "I warned you Joan can be odd."
Barbara shifts in bed so she can see Kevin's face. The room is dark, but just enough light filters in from the window to dimly see each other. "'Odd' doesn't begin to cover it. The attitude she has about your new baby sister is appalling."
"Well, it was quite a shock learning Mom and Dad were having another kid. I know I freaked out about it."
"Okay, I of all people understand that. I've got five younger half-brothers, and everyone of them, except Dylan, was a major adjustment. But when they were babies, I never announced I had a hunch that one of them was going to grow up to be trouble. What's that about?"
"Joan's instincts. I know a lot of her ideas seem to be way out there...but sometimes she's right."
"Like with my step uncle?"
Kevin nods. "Joan proclaimed for nearly a year that Ryan Hunter was evil while all of Arcadia thought he was a great guy. We were so concerned about 'crazy' Joan, the family considered having her commited. Fortunately she stuck it out until Ryan was brought down. Her instincts were right."
"So you believe Joan about little Eleanor?"
"I'm...reserving judgement. It will be years before we know how Eleanor will turn out, but in the mean time, I'll keep Joan's warning in mind. Remember, we promised Joan we would keep this secret."
"Like I'd want to start that conversation with Helen. She already hates me for 'stealing' you from Lily."
"My Mom doesn't hate you. It's just that she was close friends with Lily, and when the two of us broke up, Mom took it hard. It cost her the friendship she had with Lily. But I've explained our history to Mom, and she understands. When we visit Arcadia next month, and Mom sees how happy you make me, she will welcome you with open arms. Trust me, Mom has good instincts about people."
"Unlike Joan..." Barbara murmurs as she falls asleep.
Kevin kisses Barbara's forehead as he recalls Joan's latest demonstration of her intincts. Earlier that evening Joan pulled him aside for a confidential talk on the balcony...
"Barbara is carrying a bit of resentment toward you, big brother. You need to deal with that before it grows into a major problem."
"Is this because I lucked into a writing gig on the show where she was already working, and have been made an associate producer?"
"Figure it out, Kev. Barbara has studied and worked hard for years to get her start in the business, while you happen to toss out a couple of suggestions to the executive producer while being given a tour of the studio. You're an overnight success and becoming well known in this town for saving the show. And what did you tell me about the one thing Barbara hates most?"
"That people are willing to give her all sorts of breaks just because she is the daughter of Hi Greyson, the famous director."
"And now Barbara is becoming known as the girlfriend of that rising TV writer, Kevin Girardi. She wants to make it on her own merits, and this will be a real problem if you're not careful..."
Kevin muses on Joan's advice. He knows she is right. There has been a strain in his relationship with Barbara that he hasn't been able to figure out, but after spending less than hour with them, Joan's instincts had it solved. He may not understand how Joan does this, but she is right too often to be ignored...
Meanwhile, up the spiral staircase that leads to the loft bedroom, Joan Girardi tosses and turns as she has another bad night filled with nightmares. For months she has had these terrible dreams, and now they are more vivid than ever before. Joan moans in distress at these visions of pain, violence, death and endless amounts of blood...
To Be Continued.
(Footnote: For those unfamiliar with Mick St. John and 'Moonlight', it was a Friday night/CBS series in the 2007/08 season. Although the show did not last more than one season, it has a lot of dedicated fans, and is being rerun on the CW network in the summer of 2010.)