Chapter Four

Oscar stared through the one-way glass at the man who sat at their interrogation table in shackles. He'd only seen 'Grant Kingsley' briefly (when he'd been abducted, before he'd been blindfolded) but this man bore only a slight resemblance to the one in the green van. He was, however, a dead ringer for the original photo of Kingsley that had been distributed to the Intelligence community...the photo of Jaime's 'Drill Man'!

''My God!'' Oscar gasped. ''Did he say anything on the ride back here?''

''When they found him, he was by the roller coaster. Said he wanted to see where his brother died. Other than that, just his name and credentials. And they match up,'' Russ concluded. ''Our agents were careful not to ask him any questions during transport, since his answers wouldn't be valid in court. If there's a court case here at all.''

''If he's Grant Kingsley, who the hell did we autopsy?'' Oscar muttered. ''Well...the two people who saw him in the attic – before his appearance changed – would be the ones to ID him now...''

Russ nodded. ''And the one who got the closest look...''

''We can't ask Jaime,'' Oscar insisted. ''I'll call Steve - but I'll have to think of some other reason to get him down here because you know Jaime will be listening in.''

''Gotta love that ear,'' Russ agreed.

Half an hour later, Steve walked into OSI-Los Angeles with Jaime by his side - and she was fuming. ''Really, Oscar? An 'official leave of absence'? He obviously can't work in the shape he's in, but neither can I – and I never had to sign for any 'official leave of absence!''

''You were de-activated. That's different,'' Oscar hedged. ''It means that you are no longer an agent - although you may be in the future. That's up for discussion. In the future. Steve is going on what you might look at as the Injured Reserve List and -''

''And I know a line of bull when I hear it!'' Jaime insisted. Standing just slightly behind her, Steve gave Oscar a shrug and his bemused expression told his boss that he - Oscar - would have to field this one. ''If you wanted to talk to Steve alone, without me along, you could've just said so and I'd have -''

''And you'd have insisted on coming with me anyway,'' Steve completed for her. ''Right, Sweetheart?''

''So what's going on that you don't want me to know about?'' Jaime asked astutely.

Oscar really had no choice. He could send Jaime from the building...and potentially alienate someone who might yet become one of his best operatives again someday. Or he could spill it. He thought maybe the indirect approach would be best. ''Steve, we have a prisoner in the interrogation room that I'd like you to take a look at.''

''Anything I can do to help?'' Jaime offered (cooling down just a little bit).

''For now, wait here with Russ, please,'' Oscar told her.

''Oscar!''

Oscar decided it might be better if they supported each other through this, after all – especially since Jaime wasn't going to have it any other way. ''Alright; but you'd better sit down. Our agents did a final walk through at Fun World today. They arrested a man they found standing under The Cobra coaster. He...ah...he claims he's Grant Kingsley.''

''What?!'' Steve exclaimed. ''That's impossible; there was an autopsy!''

''He matches the photo that Mark Conrad showed the two of you when you were in hiding, in the bunker,'' Oscar continued. ''At least, he appears to. We'd like to get a positive ID from someone who actually saw his face, before he changed his appearance.''

Jaime frowned thoughtfully. ''What if he didn't change his appearance at all? Could the man in the attic and the one at the park have been two separate people?''

''Babe, why don't you wait here with Russ, let Steve take a look - and we'll go from there,'' Oscar suggested.

''But I had a closer look at his face! Oscar, let me do this; I want to do this! Besides...it'd just be looking through glass...right? I mean, not actually in the room with him...?''

''That's right,'' Oscar confirmed. He looked to Steve, who could only answer with a 'shrug' of his eyebrows. Jaime's voice was frightened...but firm. Her jaw was set in the look that Steve knew too well; she would have her way, so arguing with her was futile. ''Alright, let's go then,'' Oscar conceded. ''You can both take a look and then we'll talk more.''

Jaime clung to Steve's arm as they rounded the last corner - and when she got her first look through the one-way glass, she shuddered and buried her face in his shoulder but then turned again for a longer, positive look. ''That's him...that's the Drill Man,'' she told Oscar. This was the face she had seen leering down at her when she'd broken her bonds and removed her hood...the man who had been tormenting her with a power drill.

''That's the man from the attic,'' Steve agreed.

''Let's go back to my office,'' Oscar suggested.

''I...I don't understand,'' Jaime began tremulously once they were all seated again. ''If he was in the attic...who was in the park? Who did I...kill?''

Oscar exchanged a glance with Steve. (So she did know, after all.) ''The man in that room says his name is Grant Kingsley. He told our agents that he wanted to see where his brother died,'' Oscar explained.

''Wait a minute,'' Steve puzzled. ''You said he was under The Cobra. How did he know that was where his so-called brother died?''

''We haven't questioned him yet.''

''Give me five minutes alone in that room with him!''

''Steve!'' Jaime protested.

''Sweetheart, he's in shackles. I'm trained for this...and I don't need two arms for what I have in store for him. Oscar - five minutes!''