Chapter Two

Oscar and his assistant, Russ, flew to Ojai the morning of Jaime's funeral, while Rudy and Michael stayed behind to care for their (very much alive but still clinging to a thread) patient. For Oscar, the service was a surreal experience. They'd kept it as small and private as possible, but the little chapel was still filled to the doors with people wanting to pay their last respects.

Jim and Helen Elgin, Jaime's legal guardians (since her parents had died when she was 16), knew about her bionics, so they also knew the full story of what had 'killed' her. Everyone else was told what the newspaper obituary had said: that Jaime had perished as a result of complications from injuries suffered during a skydiving accident. (Well, Oscar reasoned, it was almost the truth.) Steve was said to be too distraught to attend.

Jim Elgin was pale and solemn, supporting his wife with both of his arms as she appeared near-collapse in her grief. Oscar had to truly fight with his conscience, since he was the only person with the authority to stand up and end their suffering – except...he couldn't. It was a matter of national security! If the existence of bionics was exposed both Jaime and Steve (and Rudy, for that matter) would have permanent targets on their backs everywhere they went, potential victims of any Tom, Dick or Harry who might see them as the path to riches. Even worse, they could be used by anyone with evil intentions to form an army of cyborgs; Oscar couldn't begin to contemplate the destruction that would result if that were to happen. (And Jaime or Steve being dissected for that knowledge to be obtained was a thought he simply couldn't bear.) No, in spite of his desire to ease the collective, intense suffering in the little chapel, Oscar knew the secret must be kept.

The coffin, of course, was closed. A phony death certificate had been submitted to the funeral home (as well as the newspapers), and the coffin delivered to the chapel had been carefully weighted to exactly duplicate the heft of a young woman's body.

Seeing the grave gnawed away at Oscar's conscience, as well. The plot between her parents had always been intended for Jaime and when the deception was planned, Oscar and Rudy reasoned that if Jaime did not survive her current condition, she could later be quietly buried in the plot that was now marked with her name by a simple but beautiful headstone. Still, watching the coffin as it was lowered into the earth was almost more than Oscar could stand. His shoulders were broad and the years spent leading his agency had toughened him, but this responsibility was heavier than any he'd ever been called upon (or chosen) to bear.

* * *

Back at Rudy's California complex, it looked as though that plot might be needed, after all. At virtually the same moment that her empty coffin was being lowered into place, Jaime flat-lined. When Oscar returned from the service, she had been revived once again – and both doctors were hovering protectively at her bedside.

"We almost lost her," Rudy intoned without looking away from his patient.

"It was too close," Michael agreed. "But at least she's stable...for now."

Oscar took a seat by the window and the three men kept a vigil through the rest of the night. In the morning, even though Jaime wouldn't have been able to hear them, they reconvened in Rudy's office to discuss what would happen next.

"Steve will be back in the States tomorrow," Oscar told them. "He'll be meeting me at the Los Angeles office. I'd like to give him some time off, but he'll have to stop here for a post-assignment physical first, just to see how he's holding up. We have to make sure he doesn't accidentally run into Jaime. Unless, of course, she's well enough for us to tell him the truth."

"Not even close," Rudy responded, shaking his head. "We're trying to spare him the pain of losing her – and keeping her alive is just not a certainty. Not yet."

"If that's your decision, then we'll have to move her," Michael added. He'd given up trying to talk them out of the deception; it was too late now. "We could take her to Colorado Springs."

"And explain our absence here...how?" Rudy queried. "Besides, she's nowhere near strong enough to make the trip." He thought quietly for a moment. "There's a separate research wing on the far side of the complex," he continued, "about as far as you can get from our labs and still be on-site. It has a couple of private rooms and should be easy enough to guard. We'll move Jaime there first thing tomorrow morning, when she's had a little more time to rest."

* * *

Steve stared zombie-like out the window of the cargo plane that was carrying him home from China. Home – that sounded bitterly ironic now. Home had always meant Ojai...and Jaime. Truth be told, he was almost grateful for the mission that had kept him from Jaime's funeral. He'd spent the days immediately following her death with his parents, the three of them bearing each other up as best they could. The service itself, he thought, would have been beyond his ability to cope...or even to absorb. How could he watch them bury her? Would his attendance have brought Jaime back? Of course not, Steve reasoned, and the sight of him trying to cope with the unbearable would've likely been too much for his mother. No, it was best that he'd been sent away - and yet he felt resentful because the decision hadn't been his to make.

He'd plodded his way through the mission solely on auto-pilot. He'd 'saved the world' so many times over that (luckily for him) he could perform what was required of him without much effort or thought. Now that Jaime was gone, Steve mused to himself, he truly had become the government's machine...its most deadly weapon.

* * *

"How are you doing, Steve?" Rudy asked gently. Michael was on the other side of the complex with Jaime. Oscar – who had no explainable reason to be there – had stayed back at his L.A. office.

"I'm...alright."

"And I don't even 'almost' believe you," the doctor said, leading him to the examining table. He could see that Steve was in decent shape physically. Rudy's worries were with what might lie deeper inside his patient and friend. "How are you feeling – really?"

"Really?" Steve countered. "I haven't let myself think about that yet. I just...can't."

"You need to."

"What I need is to stay busy – to work. After all, that's what you gave me this wonderful 'gift' for...isn't it?"

Rudy raised an eyebrow. "What you need is time to absorb everything that's happened, time to grieve. Oscar tells me he's given you some time off."

"Yeah, well, I don't want it."

Rudy sighed inwardly. It was like ramming his head into a concrete pillar. Steve was unmoving and appeared unmoved – mostly because he was putting all of his energy into staying that way. Rudy had to put all of his own energy into not telling the truth; spilling it now would only hurt Steve more. Although Michael still remained hopeful, in his heart of hearts (although he still wished that she would rally), Rudy was not expecting Jaime to live.

* * *

What had at first been daily meetings between Rudy, Oscar and Michael soon stretched to phone conferences and weekly meetings instead. No one had expected things to drag on for any length of time. Either Jaime would come back to them or she would die...except, Jaime did neither. Several times, her brain wave activity showed a slight increase and her doctors joyfully prepared for an awakening that didn't come, only to watch their patient slide back deeper into her coma. On four more occasions, she flat-lined – simply drifted away – and each time it was harder than the last to bring her back again. Each time, they wondered separately if they had done the right thing, or if they were merely prolonging the inevitable. They reasoned that she had struggled so hard to stay alive (and they'd all fought so hard to make sure that she did) that they just didn't have the heart to let her go without a fight.

Their most fervent hope, as they closed their eyes for a few hours of sleep, was that Jaime would wake up able to resume the life she'd lived before. Then, they were determined, they would find some way to dig out of the deception they'd been keeping up for too long with no hard feelings on anyone's part and total acceptance all around. In short, they were looking for a miracle. They had no idea that when their wish finally came true, the deception would prove even more intricate and difficult to maintain. There was no way they could know that Steve would find Jaime...less than twenty-four hours after she'd finally opened her eyes.

* * * * *