A LITTLE DEDUCTION
By rankamateur
"Scarecrow And Mrs. King" belong to Warner Bros. and Shoot The Moon Enterprises, LTD.
References to "DOA: Delirious On Arrival" written by Robert Bielak
Takes place a couple of years after the series ended.
The marriage is definitely known to all.
An old enemy returns for revenge – and the timing couldn't be worse.
--
The man pulled the edges of the jacket together and zipped it up. He would have preferred something warmer in the chilly wind, but his erstwhile accomplice hadn't brought anything else along.
At least he'd found a different shirt in one of the laundry baskets. It wasn't exactly clean, but it was plaid. Having a shirt, slacks and jacket all in the same color would have identified the employment of the wearer, something he did not want at this moment.
Tucking the pistol in the waistband of his pants, he kicked some more of the cold, damp, dead leaves over the body and climbed up out of the ditch.
He started walking in the tree line, staying out of sight of the road. Even though he had changed his appearance by shaving off the beard he had grown over the last few years, he didn't want to risk hitchhiking unless it became absolutely necessary - due to fatigue or the elements.
According to his information, the next town had a Greyhound bus depot. Just what he needed since his 'rainy-day' supplies, consisting of clothes, IDs, a few passports and cash, were in one of those long term rental lockers in their Baltimore terminal.
With the setting sun at his back, he trudged towards the east, contemplating his mission. The first thing he needed to do was locate that idiot who had betrayed him.
SMK--
Lee parked the car, grabbed the bouquet of roses from the passenger seat and headed for the back door.
"Hi Amanda, I'm home," he called.
Walking into the kitchen, he found his wife at the sink, doing dishes.
"How's it going today?" he asked, putting his arms around her waist . . . . well, not exactly around her waist. She didn't actually have a waist these days.
"I'm doin' OK," she replied with a small sigh, as she dipped a cup into the soapy water.
"Should you be on your feet so much?"
She rinsed and dried her hands, tossing the towel onto the counter.
He stepped back a bit as she turned towards him.
"I'm not on my feet all that much, Lee, really. Besides, I can't just sit around all day. I'd go crazy. You know what? Sitting isn't all that comfortable anyway."
She looked away, with a deep sigh. She didn't mean to sound so harsh. He was only concerned about her wellbeing. She knew that.
"Well, I . . .I just want you to take care of yourself - and the baby."
The baby, his and Amanda's baby. He still had a hard time believing it and he couldn't help a small smile, even if she was irritated with him.
"Yeah," she turned back to face him. "I know." She reached up and touched his check. "I know."
SMK--
Lee was sitting in the Q-bureau, trying to concentrate on the job he was getting paid to do, something that was getting harder to do every day.
Just then the phone rang. He lifted the receiver, "Stetson," fully expecting to hear the voice of his boss. But instead of Billy Melrose . . . .
"Lee baby, I'm so glad you're there."
"What's up Auggie?"
"I'm in trouble," his voice trembled. He sounded terrified. "Big trouble. I need your help. Please. I . . . ."
The line went dead.
'Oh great!'
Why couldn't the jerk at least have said where he was calling from!
Lee turned on the computer, wishing for the hundredth time that Amanda were here to deal with that annoying box for him.
In a few minutes he found the file he had on "Swan, A. R." and noted a some names and numbers.
After several telephone calls brought no results, he dialed Billy's extension.
"Melrose," came the terse response.
"Yeah Billy, listen, I just got a strange phone call from one of my old contacts. He sounded like he's in trouble. I made a few calls but they weren't any help. I'm gonna have to go out there and do some checking and see if I can track him down."
"Well, I guess you have some personal time coming. What about back up?"
"Hey, it's just finding and talking to a few people. What could wrong?" he asked confidently.
"Famous last words, Scarecrow. You know Retzig has escaped and he's out there – somewhere."
"Billy," irritation crept in to his voice, "He's probably out of the country by now. I don't need backup, OK?"
"All right, but be careful!"
"Always." Since Billy might be right about their old nemesis, he would definitely be as careful as he could be.
Lee was relieved that Billy didn't ask for the name of the missing contact. Since he was aware of the connection between that particular individual and Retzig, he might not have been quite so willing to grant the time off.
Auggie's checkered business career, which over the years had included female mud wrestling, auto repair, promoting women's boxing, had continued with an equal lack of success. Which was probably why his primary source of income was still as an "information broker", as he liked to consider himself. That in turn meant that he dealt with many characters who operated on the fringes of the law. These were the people Lee had to find and question.
He grabbed his jacket and headed out.
--
Personal contacts were no help either. A couple of hours of driving around had produced a few leads that proved to be dead ends. After that - nothing but increasing aggravation.
He decided to call it quits for the day.
The next day his luck changed. Turning onto a street in a rather bad area of DC he saw someone he recognized, one of the names on his list, entering the Happy Times bar.
Lee parked and went inside. After his eyes adjusted to the semidarkness, he spotted Benny at a back table. Benny Sands, a short, rumpled man, small time hood, part time snitch and associate of Roy Flowers -- both of them associates of Auggie Swan.
He walked over the table and extended his hand. " Benny, long time no see."
Benny looked somewhat confused.
"I'm Lee Stetson, a friend of Roy's. You remember?"
"Ahh, oh yeah. Stetson. Right. I guess Roy mentioned you, yeahhh and Auggie talked about you too. How are ya?"
"I'm good. Speaking of Auggie, have you seen him?"
"Well, not really seen him, but I heard somethin' about him. Somethin' kinda strange."
"Tell me everything you know," Lee slid into the seat beside Benny. "I think Auggie's in real trouble."
"Yeah, I think you're right. Well, the other night . . . . "
SMK--
The waning light of dusk produced strange shadows and objects. Most of them probably more apparent than real.
Lee Stetson moved cautiously down the narrow lane which led to cabin 50. That was the one in which the bored desk clerk had said was occupied by Mr. A. Swan. And, after Lee had managed to get the man's full attention, he said yes, he believed Mr. S. was in.
Lee pulled the Glock 9mm from the holster and disengaged the safety, cocking the weapon as quietly as possible.
He cringed as the weathered wooden step creaked under his weight. Stepping up to the door and grasping and turning the knob, he threw the door open wide.
"Freeze," he commanded. Then, in the dim light of a small lamp, he made out the figure of Auggie Swan, his long-time snitch and sort-of friend.
Somehow, Auggie didn't look as happy as he should have, considering he was being rescued.
Just then Lee felt a pressure against his temple. A voice, a familiar voice with a slight accent said - "Drop the gun, Mr. Stetson. How nice of you to join us."
"Retzig. . . . "
SMK--
Amanda awakened with a grimace. Reaching over to Lee's side of the bed, she found it empty. Slowly focusing her mind, she remembered that his side had been empty for the last two nights. Then it all came flooding back into her consciousness. Hans Retzig had escaped from federal prison and a few days later they received the unpleasant news that Auggie Swan had gone missing.
Then, after a few leads had gone nowhere, her husband had disappeared too.
She swung her legs gingerly over the edge of the bed, all the while massaging her lower back.
'Should have listened to mother and not vacuumed yesterday,' she thought.
"You should not be cleaning house in your condition," Dotty had chastised, as she pulled Amanda away from the cleaner and led her to the couch.
"Sit, missy, and rest!"
Her mother was right, of course, but she couldn't just sit. Not with Lee missing and no information as to his whereabouts. In her condition she couldn't be out there in the field with him, watching his back as she should have been, so she had done the only thing she could do . . . . clean.
SMK--
Francine knocked on the door of the Section chief's office and, not waiting for an answer, opened it and entered, followed closely by her partner, Ephraim Beaman.
"Any news, anything from the surveillance team ?" She didn't have to say about what or whom. She placed a file folder on the desk.
"No." Billy shook head. "it's like he dropped off the face of the earth.
He glanced at the file. "Since you two have wrapped up this Wagner case, I want you looking for Lee full time. Anyway," he continued "there's been no unusual or suspicious activity at the house. I've had every agent I could spare talking to all of Lee's other family members and to every 'known associate' of Swan's that we could get a line on. And I suspect agents I couldn't spare are working on it too."
"Billy, you know everyone here is worried about Lee," Francine put in.
"Yes, I know. Here," he pushed a stack of papers across his desk, "are the names of the characters we've interviewed and a summary of what they had to say. Which is mostly nothing . . . . they haven't seen him recently and they don't have a clue where he might be. Check these and see if you have run across any of them. Or if their names have been mentioned by one of your street sources."
"What about known associates of Retzig?" Ephraim asked.
"The man worked alone," Billy responded. " He doesn't have any known associates, at least none that lived to tell about it."
"Well, he didn't break out of Lewisburg by himself," Francine observed. "Do we know who helped him?"
"Yes. We got a report this morning from the local Lewisburg Police Department. They found a body in ditch just outside of town. It was one of the guards from Retzig's cell block. He'd been shot with his own gun and he was dressed in Retzig's prison jumpsuit. They've issued an APB for him, but they're pretty sure he's already out of Pennsylvania. And the feds have a nation-wide alert, but no results yet."
"So, the guard can't tell us anything."
"No Francine," Beaman said seriously, "the guard is definitely a dead end."
"Oh really, Ephraim . . . ." Francine just shook her head. "Not funny!"
"Sorry. Bad joke. So when was it that Lee put Retzig away?"
"1985," Billy supplied.
"Oh boy," Francine involuntarily rubbed the back of her head. "I'll never forget that case. Amanda getting the sandwich with the hallucinogenics meant for Lee and bashing me with that vase. I had a headache for weeks!"
"If you can find Retzig, you can get even with him for that."
"How'd he get out?" Ephraim asked.
"They're pretty sure it was in a laundry truck," Billy answered. "He must have hidden in one of those big baskets."
"I thought prisons had their own laundries. At least in the movies I've seen," Francine added.
"They do. But apparently the personal things of the warden, his family and his staff; the guard's uniforms, things like that, are sent out to a private laundry in town. Guess they don't want the inmates putting starch in their shorts."
The two agents smiled dutifully at their boss's little joke.
Abruptly Billy's smile faded. His expression and demeanor changed dramatically. "I should never have let him go out there alone," he said in a voice filled with remorse.
Francine didn't think she had ever seen her boss look so guilt ridden before. "Lee didn't want any backup and you know how stubborn he can be," she reminded him.
"Damn it!" he banged his fist on his desk. "I should have insisted!"
"Then you might very well have two missing agents," Ephraim stated firmly.
Billy closed his eyes for a few seconds while he regained the control of his emotions which the head of Field Section must have in order to do his job effectively.
"All right. Get going you two. We've got to find Lee and soon." Billy gestured towards the door and reached for one of the several telephones on and near his desk.
"OK, Billy, we'll get on it. Come on Francine, I want to check something in the computer."
--
Ephraim booted up his laptop and quickly found the file he needed. As soon as it loaded, he scrolled down to name Benny Sands.
"Look Francine," he pointed to the screen. "Benny was arrested in October of 1988 for petty larceny with . . . ."
"Roy Flowers," Francine supplied. "And here's Roy on the list of Auggie's known associates. Let's find Benny and have a little chat."
"Any suggestions?"
"Well," Ephraim rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, "don't you have a contact in the
D. C. Police Department?"
"Right. Gosh I haven't talked to her in quite a while. I'll give her a call."
A conversation with Lt. Gilson provided an address of a flophouse in one of Washington's seedier neighborhoods and the location of a bar, which was under surveillance for bookmaking, and where Benny had been observed on several occasions over the last month.
"How do you know this guy?" Francine wondered.
"Oh, I have a few street sources too," Ephraim turned and winked at her. "And he's given me some useful tidbits from time to time."
"Ah."
--
It must have been their lucky day. After less than an hour of staking out the "Happy Times" bar, Francine and Beaman spotted their quarry.
They quickly exited the car and followed Benny inside.
The bar smelled like stale beer and tobacco. Francine's first impulse was to run out the door, go home and take a shower.
Beaman located him sitting at a table in a dark corner. Sitting down beside him Francine showed him her badge.
Ephraim sat down in the other chair. "Hey, Benny, long time, no see."
"Do you know where Auggie Swan is?" Francine got tight to the point.
"Don't you guys talk to each other?"
"What do you mean by that?" Francine glanced up at her partner and then back at Benny.
"Well, some guy named Stetson asked me 'bout Auggie just the other day. Said he was a business associate. I recognized his name 'cause Auggie's mentioned him a couple of times. Said he was an important dude, real connected. I figured he meant mob . . . . not government."
"What did you tell him," Ephraim grabbed the poor man by the lapels of his jacket, "and where is Swan?" he demanded.
"Hey, take it easy, will ya? I'll tell you everything I told your buddy. A dame, err, a lady of my acquaintance, actually of mine and Auggie's and Roy's and . . . . well, anyway . . . ."
"Get to the point," Francine demanded. "We're probably running out of time. And I am certainly running out of patience!"
"OK, OK. She saw Auggie in here the other night, well a couple of nights ago, and he seemed to be with some guy she didn't recognize. Anyway, they were leavin' and Auggie bumped into her and slipped her a napkin. She said he looked funny, kinda scared or somethin' . . . . "
"What was on the napkin?" Francine put in.
"Ahh, it said "Albin', 'Woodside' and 'Help"."
"Do you know what that means?" Beaman and Francine exchanged confused looks.
"Well, Albin is a little town in Virginia, sorta northwest of here, maybe fifty miles or so. And the Woodside is a motel at the edge of town. Me and Roy used to stay there when the climate in DC got unhealthy, if you get my drift. The 'Help'? Sounds like he was trouble. Must have been that guy he was with or he would have just talked Annie, not slipped her a note. Dontcha think?"
'Yeah. I think you're right. Thanks Benny. I owe you. Let's go Frannie."
"We need to get going and contact Billy and have him get some teams mobilized and on the way." Francine walked rapidly out of the bar and started down the sidewalk towards the car.
"Before we check it out?" Beaman moved quickly to keep up with her.
Yes, Ephraim. You heard the man. It's over fifty miles. We can't wait." Francine was getting more agitated by the moment.
"OK, Francine, OK." He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Hey, I know Lee's an old friend and you're worried about him. I'm worried too. So is Billy and everybody else. We'll go and we'll find Lee and Auggie. It'll be all right. You'll see." He smiled at her. "It'll be just fine." He reached down and opened the passenger door.
"Yeah." Francine returned his smile. "Let's go. I'll call Billy from the car."
SMK--
Amanda sat in front of the TV – not really seeing it. Her mind was otherwise occupied. She was glad that Philip and Jamie had been staying with Joe for the past week. It would be best if they continued to stay with their father -- until Lee was back home and there was no more need for the Agency baby-sitters she had spotted, parked down the block.
She rubbed her swollen belly and then leaned forward to once again massage her aching low back. Her back had hurt since morning and the discomfort, she didn't want to think of it as actual, real pain, was spreading around to the front. . . . . coming in waves that seemed to be getting a bit closer together over time. . . . 'Oh my gosh. . . . '
SMK--
Lee found himself in that narrow place between light sleep and wakefulness. He thought of his wife . . . . his beautiful, very pregnant wife. Their child was due any time now. He would be a father very soon. He had vacillated between wanting the blessed event to be over and wishing that the average pregnancy last from ten to twelve months, instead of the standard nine . . . . which were just about up.
He wanted to be a good father. He was sure that Amanda and Dotty wouldn't let him make too many mistakes.
He'd tried to conjure up something more solid than the vague memories he had of his own dad.
Surely Matthew Stetson was a good father. Otherwise, why would the few memories he did have be so pleasant . . . so happy. Whatever his dad had done, he had done it right. Perhaps Matthew had inherited his paternal abilities . . . . . it was a genetic thing. Maybe there was a 'good dad' gene. If there was, Lee sure hoped he had inherited it too. A father! Wow. 'Wait till my tax man gets a load of this year's 1040!"
He opened his eyes as his head was jerked up by someone yanking his hair.
It was difficult to get the left one open all way because of the swelling. He moved his tongue over the dried blood on his cut lip. His hands were tied so tightly that he didn't think there was any circulation left. His ribs hurt and his legs and feet were cold.
'The heat in this dump leaves a lot to be desired,' he thought wryly.
All in all, it had been quite a long time since he had felt quite this miserable.
Moving his head to the right, he could see Auggie Swan, tied to another chair and looking very much the worse for wear.
So far, the pattern had been one of Retzig leaving for several hours . . . . 'probably out trying to steal the plans for the newest Stealth Bomber….', then, apparently not being successful, he'd return in a foul mood and start beating his captives with something that looked like it was made of hard rubber. And it hurt!
At least Lee had his mantra to ward off some of the pain. Even better, he had thoughts of his wife, his beautiful, wonderful, pregnant wife, and their child.
"Wake up, Stetson. You sleep when I tell you," Retzig snarled. "Do you have any idea of how little sleep I got in prison? Trying to stay awake night after night for fear that one of my cell mates would stick a shank in my ribs. Did you know these convicts are very clever at making a knife out of almost anything? And for some reason they didn't seem to like me."
"I can't image why not," Lee observed.
"Neither can I," Retzig smiled. "I'm a perfectly amiable fellow."
Auggie stared at Lee, sending a silent plea for his would-be rescuer to keep his mouth shut and not antagonize their captor any further.
"By the way, how are your ribs, Stetson?"
"They hurt like hell. You ought to know how hard you hit 'em. Hans, why . . . . why are you hangin' around here? You're out of prison. You could be out of the country"
"Payback . . . . revenge . . . things that just couldn't wait."
"Why don't you let Auggie go? I'm the one who sent you up."
"Your friend, Mr. Swan led you to me and now he has led you to me again. Only this time it was according to my plan. Poetic justice, don't you think? I knew Mr. Swan's eagerness to make a quick profit would overcome his caution. I'm only sorry that your irritating associate, Mrs. King, wasn't with you."
Lee bit back any response. He didn't want this creep having any idea of his real relationship with Amanda.
"The only place he is going is to his grave. Along with you Stetson."
"Look, the longer you stay here, the more likely you'll be found and sent back. My friends will be looking for me."
"I've heard you are the best. And you found me from the first clue. I was prepared to provide others, if you needed them. Perhaps your colleagues are not so competent as you. Don't count on them rescuing you."
"Yeah, well don't count on them not!"
Retzig just laughed – a humorless laugh. "We'll see."
SMK--
Amanda dialed the familiar number.
"Melrose here."
"Sir, It's Amanda. Any word on Lee?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. Francine and Beaman have a good lead. I'm sending a couple teams to help them out."
"Oh, that's good news, Sir. Thank you!"
"How are you feeling, Amanda?"
"I'm doin' OK for now. I'll be much better when you find Lee and he's back here, safe, with me." She twisted the phone wire absently in the fingers of her free hand. Suddenly a sharp pain caused her hand to clench, involuntarily, into fist.
"I know. We're doing everything we can to get him back home. You take care of yourself, now. We want that little one here too, safe and sound."
"Yes, Sir. I'm workin' on that."
"Is it time?"
"Close."
--
Dotty walked into kitchen and found her daughter sitting on one the stools, staring at the phone with a strange look on her face.
"Amanda, what's going on? Why are you just sitting there in a puddle of . . . .Oh my."
"That's right Mother, my water just broke."
"I'll get the suitcase and something for you to change into. You get some towels."
"Right. Oooooo!"
SMK--
After they left the urban areas behind, they made good time, the comfortable sedan eating up the miles. Under different circumstances it would have seemed like an enjoyable drive in the country. But today the scenery, which even in this time of late winter had it's own kind of beauty, went largely unnoticed and unappreciated.
"Look at the sign, Frannie, 'Albin 2 miles'. We're almost there."
"I see it," she paused. " You know Ephraim, I 've been thinking about this . . . . ."
"Yeah, for about the last fifty miles," he chuckled.
"Sorry. I . . . . "
"It's OK. I understand. So what did you come up with?"
"Well, I bet Retzig LET Auggie pass that card. He wanted Lee to have some clue as to where he was hiding out, so Lee could find him."
"Sounds logical. I think that's a very reasonable deduction, Francine."
"Hey, look there," she pointed, "on the right side. It's the sign for that motel. The Woodside."
"I don't believe it! There's Stetson's car. Parked under those trees."
"You're right! That is his car." Reaching for the phone Francine dialed Billy's private number.
"Melrose."
"Billy, we found Lee's car. It's near that motel. Ephraim and I are going to go in and find out which room is Auggie's. Then we'll try and rent the cabin closest to his. There are trees and brush around the edge of this place and it looks like they all have back doors. So our people should be able to get to us without being spotted. I'll call you back as soon as we get the cabin numbers."
"Great work! Call as soon as you can and I'll forward everything to the teams."
"Will do. Are they coming in by helicopter?" Francine asked.
"No. We checked a detailed map of the area around Albin. There doesn't seem to be any place to land that would be within reasonable walking distance of that motel. And if they go flying around, looking for a clearing in the woods, Retzig's liable to spot them, or at least hear them and get suspicious. You know what that could mean." Billy didn't have to spell it out.
"Yeah, I know, he'd probably kill Lee and Auggie too." Francine's voice trembled slightly. "What about landing in town and having the local cops drive them out?"
"We checked that too," Billy answered, "and the local police force consists of the sheriff and two deputies. I don't think they could spare either the manpower or the cars. No, we'll keep it an Agency operation for now and notify the Virginia jurisdictions when and if we need to."
"OK. Talk to you later."
--
Beaman parked in front of the office. They got out and went in.
The clerk looked up from his paper. "Can I help ya?"
Yes, you sure can." Ephraim pulled out his badge. "We need to know which cabin is Mr. Swan's."
" And have you seen him or anyone going in or out of his cabin today?" Francine demanded.
"Ahh, yeah he's here. He and another fella rented cabin 50. Ya can't miss it. It's the one and the end of the lane. And as far as I know, they're in there now."
"We want to rent a cabin near that one," Ephraim reached for his wallet and retrieved his Agency credit card.
"Sure. Cabins 49 and 47 are empty. They're on the right side of the road. And they're the closest."
Ephraim took number 47, the second one, which would give them the cover of the cabin nearest to Retzig's. After assuring the clerk that if he alerted anyone to their presence, he would be spending the next forty years at hard labor in the Federal pen at Yuma, they left the office and got back into the car.
He drove down the lane, past rows of wooden cabins, most with peeling paint and rickety looking porches. He pulled up in front of their cabin and parked. There was a plain vanilla rental car in front of number 50.
Ephraim opened the trunk of their car and he and Francine began retrieving the equipment they would need, including a pair of slacks and some low heel shoes, which she kept for just such an emergency.
They entered the cabin. "Deluxe" the desk clerk had called it.
The main room boasted an ugly couch with a matching chair, and a medium-size storage cabinet. There was also a small, round table with four uncomfortable looking, wooden straight chairs. The other room had a double bed and dresser. The bathroom contained a commode, a pedestal sink and a tub.
The heater was one of those archaic in-the-wall units. One side in the living room – the other in the bedroom. There was no thermostat. It either turned on, with a T-shaped device, or it was off. It didn't look as though it was capable of producing enough heat to matter.
"Welcome to Motel Two and a Half," Francine remarked, in a disgusted tone of voice.
"Thanks," Ephraim answered, smiling. "You don't think this place made AAA's list of quality motels in Virginia?"
Francine shook her head, "No way!"
He set two of the backpacks on the cabinet, and pulled a pair of binoculars and a night-vision scope from the first one. From the second he took several bottles of water, some protein bars and a bag of dry roasted peanuts, which he stored in the cabinet.
Francine had a third backpack from which she removed her slacks and shoes and two lightweight, dark colored jackets, which she draped over the wooden chairs. "Guess I'll go in the bedroom and change."
--
Since the telephone in the room went through the switchboard, Francine went back to the car and called the Agency from that phone. She filled Billy in with the location of the two cabins and the general surroundings. She also gave him a list of things Ephraim said they would need.
"All right, I'll pass all of this along to the teams. I hope they've got what Beaman wants, because they're on the road. They were only about ten - fifteen minutes behind you, so they should be there very soon. I'll tell them to go around through the woods to the back door. Watch for them.'
"Don't worry, we will. I'll call you as soon as we have this wrapped up.
"Good luck."
SMK--
Dotty held Amanda's hand. Letting Amanda hold her hand had proven to be just too painful.
"Darling, I wish I could help you . . . . with the breathing I mean, but this Lamze stuff just wasn't being used when I had you."
"It's all right, Mother. I'm doin' OK."
She was doing pretty well, under the circumstances . . . last stages of labor . . . her husband missing for days.
But her mother was there for her. Just as Dotty had been there for her ever since Joe left. And Billy had said they had a good lead. . . . a very good lead. She knew that he and Francine and Beaman and all their other friends and coworkers at The Agency were working overtime to find Lee and bring him home to her. And they would . . . . she knew they would . . . . they had to.
She thought back over these last several months.
She had been somewhat surprised, but very pleased that Lee had made the effort to be present at all of her birthing classes. She could tell he was self-conscious and certainly out of his element, but he had stayed the course and actually had become a very good coach. He would have been a big help . . . if he could have been here.
'Maybe next time . .. ' 'NEXT TIME!' What in the world was she thinking!
Never mind about next time. 'Concentrate on this time,' she decided.
She knew that Lee would be a good father. He would do everything in his power to see that his child had all the love and caring that he had missed after the death of his parents. Her biggest problem would probably be keeping him from spoiling the kid rotten!
The onset of another contraction stopped all her contemplations. She gripped the side rail of the bed. She sure didn't want to do any further damage to Dotty's poor hand.
Her mother helped her lean forward as she panted through the pain.
She leaned back against the pillows as Dotty gently pushed a lock of her sweat dampened hair away from her forehead.
She thought again of that conversation with her husband. One of the last they had, as it turned out. He had poured himself a cup of coffee and then sat down on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. He seemed totally lost in thought. In fact, it had taken several tries to get his attention.
"Hey Stetson, what's got you so preoccupied?"
"It's nothing, really."
"Aw, com'on," she prodded.
"Well, I heard a rumor that Auggie Swan's in some kind of trouble."
"And you need to help him."
"I need to find him first," he had responded.
--
The pains seemed so close together . . . one right after another . . .there was no relief . . . . no reprieve . . . . unrelenting! Where was that man when she really needed him?
'Darn you Lee Stetson!' He probably got himself kidnapped on purpose!
"Ahh, o boy, ow, ow, ow, ow!"
The OB nurse entered the room just then, all cheerful efficiency After a quick exam, she announced it was time.
"Well, Amanda, let's get you into the delivery room. Your mother can go to our waiting room. It's just down the hall."
"Can't she wait here?" Amanda gritted out.
"You'll be going to a different room afterwards and we'll probably need this room for someone else pretty soon."
She opened the door and motioned. In a minute an aide came into the room with a gurney. They moved Amanda onto it and headed for the delivery room.
--
Dotty found a public telephone and called Joe. She brought him up to date on Amanda's progress and he agreed to bring the boys to the hospital to be with their mother.
After finishing the call, she made her way down the hall and entered the waiting room. It was bright and cheery. The walls were full of paintings and illustrations of babies, toddlers and family groups, that looked as though they had come from a Norman Rockwell portfolio. There was the usual assortment of magazines and a TV sitting on a shelf, with the sound almost off.
She started to pace. Back and forth. Up and down.
Since Lee couldn't be here, it seemed to be her duty. Somebody had to pace for her daughter.
She prayed that, in spite of everything that was going on, Amanda and the baby would be fine.
'Of course they'll be fine!'
She simply would not entertain the thought of any other outcome.
SMK--
With the high powered binoculars, Ephraim was able to see Hans Retzig, pacing the cabin. He couldn't see the other two men, but from the way Retzig would look down and speak, it was obvious there was someone, or more than one other person, in the room also.
--
The three Agency cars pulled up and parked near Lee's vehicle. Then the six men made their way cautiously and as quietly as possible, through the wooded area that surrounded the motel. Duffy and Jackson had most of the items that Ephraim had requested of Billy.
The air was chilly, but the last snow fall had melted, leaving the ground hard - still frozen. The few deciduous trees were without leaves. Thankfully, most of the trees surrounding the motel were evergreens, many with low branches that provided fairly good cover.
When they reached what seemed to be almost the end of the property, they stopped and waited. In a few moments the back door of the cabin closest to them opened and agent Desmond stepped out.
"That's it," Frank Duffy said softly. "Let's go."
The men entered one at a time, at short intervals, checking constantly for any unwanted eyes.
When they were all safely inside, Beaman began to fill them in on his recent observations.
" . . . . so I can't see Lee, but I'm sure he's in there . . . unless Retzig is talking to himself."
"He's alive. That's a relief," Duffy echoed all their sentiments.
"So, what's the plan," Corey wanted to know.
"We'll go with what we've got and that's mainly, the element of surprise. Plus it'll be dark soon. Nobody has gone in or out of the cabin and we know Retzig is a loner, so we only have to worry about him," he paused for a moment. "We'll have Francine and Edwards shoot some flash-bang devices, followed by smoke grenades, through the front windows. Then Duffy, Roberts and I will crash the front door. At the same instant Baker and Jackson will hit the back door. OK?"
Everyone nodded.
"Synchronize watches . . . . five past . . . . MARK."
--
When the agents slipped out the back door, there was just enough light left for Baker and Jackson to make their way through the woods and come around behind cabin 50.
As the rest of the group waited between cabins 47 and 49, Ephraim checked his watch repeatedly, as the five minutes he had given the two team members to reach their goal, ticked off.
He looked up at Francine, who seemed to be shivering.
He rubbed her arm gently. "You OK?"
"Yeah, it's . . . it's just a little cold out here . . . for this jacket."
"It'll warm up in a few minutes," he smiled at her encouragingly. "Ready with the grenades?"
"I sure am!"
--
To everyone's great relief, the plan worked.
At Ephraim's signal, Francine and Edwards launched their grenades. As the missiles crashed through the front windows, the two teams hit the front and back doors.
The blinding light, deafening noise and acrid smoke worked as designed.
Retzig was stunned into inaction and was disarmed before he could fire his weapon.
Lee was freed first and, before anyone could stop him, he lunged at his captor, smashing him in the face with a good, solid left.
Duffy pulled Lee away. "Hey, buddy, that's enough," he said gently. Although it was considered bad form to deck a handcuffed suspect, he understood perfectly well what prompted the attack.
Lee just nodded. His momentary adrenaline rush having subsided, he had no more strength to continue the assault anyway. Instead, he tried to rub some more circulation back into his wrists and hands.
The prisoner was taken outside and, when the cars were brought up to the cabin, thrown none too gently, into the back of one of the Agency vehicles.
Auggie was freed too and the whole group moved to the more hospitable surroundings of the other cabin.
The former captives were allowed to clean up a bit before they discussed the trip back to Washington.
Though he tried to protest, it was decided that Lee was in no condition to drive himself all the way back to DC.
The agent tasked to drive Lee's beloved 'vette swore a blood oath to be very careful.
"How much have you guys had to eat and drink in the past two days?" Francine asked.
"Not much." Lee took the small bottle of water from her hand, and drank nearly all of it.
Auggie took the bottle which Francine offered him and drained it. "Thanks," he said hoarsely.
He had emerged from the bathroom looking like the loser of a ten round boxing match.
"You'll ride back with Duffy," Lee told him. "You're awfully quiet, Auggie. Are you gonna be OK?"
"Lee, I'm grateful to you and your friends for savin' me, even though I'm not sure my ears'll ever stop ringin' . . . ."
"Sure they will," Lee interjected. "Mine are better already."
"Yeah, well," Auggie continued, "ya know what? I think I'm outta the information game. It's way too dangerous. So from now on - don't call me, I'll call you."
He followed Duffy out of the room, walking like an old man.
'Maybe he should quit,' Lee thought. 'Naw, he'll be back.'
--
The local police had been contacted and they agreed to arrange for the owner of the only towing service in town to impound and secure the rental car, until an Agency forensic team could examine it. There might be evidence that would be useful in Retzig's next trial.
SMK--
Dotty, Joe and the boys made their way down the hall from the nursery to Amanda's room, chatting amiably as they walked.
Dotty had decided it was best not to reveal that Lee was missing. She told them that he had been sent out of town on business and then had got stuck due to bad weather – ' or some other such nonsense'. She was deliberately vague about the details.
Joe held the door open and they all trooped in.
It was a pleasant room, light and airy with a window that overlooked a large lawn. Besides the usual furnishings, there were a couple of chairs that actually looked comfortable. Though it was a double room, the other bed was unoccupied, affording them a bit of privacy.
Amanda had a rather tired smile on her face as one by one they went up to the bed and greeted the new mother with a little kiss on the cheek.
"How're you feeling sweetheart?" Joe asked. "Gosh, you look really beat."
"Oh, thank you so much." The hurt feelings were unmistakable in her tone of voice and the look in her eyes.
"I didn't mean it like that," Joe put in quickly.
Before he could get his foot any further into his mouth, Dotty interrupted.
"Beautiful, just beautiful," she gushed.
"Yeah," Jamie chimed in, "except for bein' kinda wrinkled and old lookin'. You sure it's new?"
"Oh, right, doofus . . . . ," Philip began.
This time Joe came to the rescue. "Hey, I'm pretty sure I remember you guys looking pretty much the same. Right Amanda?"
"Yes," Amanda agreed. "And just wait a couple of days. You'll be surprised." She tried to stifle a yawn.
"You're tired darling," her mother observed. "We'll get out of here and let you get some rest." Dotty leaned over and kissed Amanda on the forehead.
"OK, thanks Mother. Uh, you . . . . you haven't heard from Lee, have you?"
"No. But," Dotty put in quickly, "I'll bet he's on his way right now. He'll probably be here when we come back to see you this evening. Get some rest."
Joe and the boys said their goodbyes.
"Thanks. I love you . . . all of you," she smiled as her family, 'part of her family,' she mentally corrected, left her alone. She drifted off to sleep thinking of the rest of her family, hoping that she would be holding them close soon, very soon.
SMK--
The car hit a bump in the road and jolted Lee awake. He sat up straight and looked around, trying to get his bearings. "Beaman, where're you taking me?" he asked, his irritation unmistakable.
"To the hospital," Ephraim replied evenly.
"HOSPITAL," Lee exploded. "I want to go HOME. . . . to my wife."
"Lee," Francine turned toward the back seat to face her friend. "Amanda is in the hospital. Billy put a team on your house as soon as he knew you were missing and they saw Dotty and Amanda getting into the car, carrying a small suitcase. And Billy talked to her earlier and Amanda told him she was having labor pains."
"Step on it, will ya Beaman?"
"I'm already over the speed limit."
"So?"
"So, we want to get there in one piece. OK?"
Lee just glowered and mumbled something under his breath.
The car sped down the highway, the three agents each lost in their own thoughts.
SMK--
TAG
Lee ran down the hall, dodging doctors, nurses, aides, carts loaded with empty food trays. Pity the poor soul who got between him and his objective.
There it was . . . . room 620. He stopped, took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, then trying to brush some of the wrinkles out of his coat. Realizing it was hopeless, he opened the door and stepped into the room.
"Amanda . . . ."
"Oh, Lee," the relief she felt was so evident in her voice. "Mr. Melrose called. He said you were OK and you were on your way here." She took in his rumpled appearance, the purple area around his eye, the cut on his lip, but decided not to mention them. "You look tired, sweetheart."
"Yeah, it's . .. it's been a rough couple of days. Guess you've had a rough time too. I should've been here for you . . . . helping you with your breathing . . . .holding your hand, I. . . .I. . . "
He could see the little bundle she held in her arms.
Amanda smiled. "It's OK. You were tied up. Hey, we're not contagious, ya know. You can come a little closer."
Looking more than a little nervous, he moved slowly towards the bed. When he reached the side, he leaned over and kissed his wife, for the first time in what seemed like ages. "Hi. I missed you."
"Yeah, and we missed you." Unwrapping the blanket, she looked up and grinned even more broadly. "Mr. Stetson, meet your son."
"Oh my gosh!"
"Is that all you have to say?" She reached for his hand and guided it down to the tiny fist that was waving around.
He took hold of that little hand and just nodded, not trusting his voice at that moment. He'd have a lot to say to his wife and to his brand new, perfect, beautiful baby boy . . . . but not just now. Later . . . . A little later.
end