Act Three
They say dreams are the windows of the soul—take a peek and you can see the inner workings, the nuts and bolts. Northern Exposure (Henry Bromel)
The Agency
Friday, July 14, 1989
10:15 AM
"Matt?" Lee opened the office door and he and Amanda stepped inside. "You said you had some news—" His voice trailed off as he took in the scene before him—the empty desk, the glowing computer screen and the cup of coffee. "That's funny, Amanda—he isn't here."
Amanda touched the cup of coffee. "Still warm." She looked at Lee. "Maybe he just stepped out for a moment?"
"Yeah maybe." Lee ran a hand through his hair. "But something—." His eyes fell on a piece of paper in the chair. There was a triangle on the paper, with the word 'blue' written on it. A Zulu blue note. "Amanda, take a look at this."
Amanda took the note. "Need to meet," she read out loud— "then there's a bunch of numbers—degrees—looks like directional coordinates."
Lee was bent over the computer, looking at the screen, using the arrow keys to scroll down the page. He spoke without looking at her. "Must be something pretty big—it looks like he managed to access one file on Alpha Dawn here but this is very general—it doesn't tell us any more than we already knew. It doesn't tell us what they were about, who or what this 'Alpha' is—nothing." Frustrated, he hit the keyboard with his fist.
"Well he must have found something more," Amanda said.
Lee nodded. "That would be my guess. But whatever it is, we won't find it hanging around here—let's go."
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"It's done."
"You sure?" The man called Alpha cradled the phone against one ear as he spoke, his fingers idly playing with the paperweight on his desk.
"Very sure," the other man said. "Scarecrow is going to walk right into my trap, Alpha. By the end of the day he and his wife will be nothing more than a bad memory."
Alpha smiled. "Excellent."
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The winter rains had given the dirt road a washboard effect. The Corvette bounced along the ruts in the road. Lee silently swore. The only sound was the reverberation of the gravel hitting the undercarriage. The sports car hit a large rut and the car suspension bounced hard, jarring the occupants.
Lee looked over to his wife grimacing. "If I had known this road was going to be so bad, I would have brought the Jeep."
Amanda smiled back at him. "We're almost there, Honey. According to the map and coordinates the driveway to cabin should be around the next bend," she told him. "I just don't know why we're meeting all the way at here. It sure is secluded." Amanda looked out the passenger window admiring the summer sun filtering through the canopy of alder and spruce trees. She felt the 'Vette tires lose grip on the gravel road and knew Lee would instinctively press harder on the gas pulling the car out of the skid.
Lee turned the 'Vette down a narrow gravel driveway. "I guess Matt didn't want any prying eyes if he choice this place. Operation Alpha Dawn must really be bigger then what we thought. I wonder how he found this place?" Looking over at her, he noticed Amanda shrugging her shoulders.
"I'll just be glad to get out of the car and be able to stretch," she admitted, trying to stretch.
Lee pulled the car in front of the cabin. He unfolded his large frame, climbing out of the car. After looking around, he walked over to the passenger side, opening the door for his wife. She took his hand, allowing him to help her out.
"I have a bad feeling about this. Watch my back," he whispered into her ear. She nodded and watched him take his gun out of his holster. They both scanned the area cautiously. He motioned to her to head towards the cabin door. Climbing up the steps, she called out, "Matt."
They both heard the muffled sound of a dirt bike, coming up fast and furious. "Lee!" Amanda yelled.
He spun around, yelling at her, "Amanda, get inside the cabin!"
The gunman riddled the area with bullets. The first bullet hit the side of the car, then another blew out the front tire. An explosion of glass rained down around them as a bullet impacted the windshield. Lee swore—this was his fault he had led them into an ambush. He leaped unto the step, pushing Amanda out of the way shielding his body to hers. Another loud crack tore through the air and fire ripped through his shoulder, the impact spun him around. He fired his weapon, hitting the gunman. The man lost control of the bike, slamming it into a tree. Lee rolled off of her, but felt nothing but a white-hot burst of pain. Unconsciousness soon swallowed him.
She sat up quickly, calling out "Lee!" She crawled to his side. Fear washed over her when she saw blood pooling on his white shirt. She ripped his shirt open, gasping, "Oh my Lord." She shook him. "Lee, please stay with me. Please. Don't leave me," she cried. Her face grew pale as she felt the stickiness of his blood on her fingertips. She heard him moan.
"Lee," she shook him harder. "Open your eyes. I'm sorry I have to do this," she said slapping him. He moaned again. "Lee, you have to wake up now. I can't do this alone." Slowly his eyes began to flutter open.
"How bad?" he asked her.
Amanda tried to answer him. "Ahhh—you've been shot, but you're going to be all right. I need you to get up, so I can help you get into the cabin."
"Are you all right? We're you hit?"
She shook her head. "No, but I twisted my ankle, when we hit the ground."
Taking all his strength he could muster, he managed to pull himself into a semi-upright position. Lee grimaced in pain. He grabbed hold of Amanda's shoulder and the two of them hobbled into the cabin. Amanda lay Lee down onto the bed. She then limped over to the kitchen finding some towels.
Amanda lamely walked out to the rain barrel she had seen on the front porch, and was grateful to find it full of water. Coming back into the kitchen, she turned the stove on to boil some water. Soon she was at Lee's side again; using one of the towels she applied direct pressure on the wound. Lee eyes were gazed over and his breathing shallow. She knew her husband was not in good shape and she was worried. No one knew where they were and she had no way of getting them out.
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"Jenna," Lee murmured. His fists clenched and his breathing grew rapid, his forehead beading with sweat. His head tossed and turned restlessly. "Jenna no—please-"
A girl sat slumped in the folding chair, clutching a small duffel bag to her chest. Her blond hair hung limp around her face and her dark eyes were red-rimmed, staring blankly at the empty desk in front of her. She was about nine, Lee guessed, maybe ten at the most but he knew her immediately.
"Munchkin," Lee whispered, knowing that Jenna couldn't hear his voice—knowing that if he wanted to wrap his arms around his child to take her pain away he'd only pass right through her like so much empty air.
The office door suddenly opened. A short woman with dark hair and a drab-looking suit entered. She sat down at the desk, flipping through some papers and not even looking at the child in front of her.
"You were with the Reilly family for three years after your grandmother's death, is that correct?" the woman asked.
"Yes, Mrs. Dockerty." Jenna's voice was barely audible.
"I was sorry to hear about Mr. Reilly's death, Jenna. But surely you can understand Mrs. Reilly's position—she has her own children to think about at this time."
"I understand." Jenna looked down at her hands, biting down hard on her lower lip. Her eyes were brimming, tears threatening to fall. Lee placed his hand just above her shoulder—maybe she didn't know he was there but he had to feel like he was doing something.
"And as both of your brothers are out of town you'll be staying at Dojer Hall—"
Jenna's head jerked up. "Dojer Hall?" she repeated. "But the last time I—"
"The last time what?"
"Nothing," Jenna sighed, the resignation in her voice cut through Lee like a knife. "It doesn't matter."
"It's just for the night." Mrs. Dockerty shut the file folder and stood. "We'll start looking for a new family in the morning. And no more tears, Jenna—you're old enough to know how things work by now."
Lee watched as Jenna shut her eyes and took a deep breath. A shudder seemed to pass through her body and then her eyes opened. Her dark eyes were blank now—all emotions hidden. Still clutching her duffel bag Jenna rose and followed Mrs. Dockerty out of the office.
"Jenna." Lee's voice seemed to echo in the empty office. "Oh munchkin, I'm so sorry."
"Lee?" Amanda said. She had managed to fashion a bandage and splint using towels and strips of sheets—placing some plastic over the wound to prevent air from being sucked in. A cold cloth covered his forehead, just like the one he'd put on Jenna's forehead only a few days ago. Amanda touched his flushed cheek with the back of her hand and sucked in her breath sharply—'Oh God,' she thought—he's burning up.
"Jenna's fine, sweetheart—she's at home with mother and the boys. She's just fine."
"No," Lee spoke through gritted teeth. "She's not fine, Manda—orphan, just like me—grow up just like me—all alone."
"Listen, Lee Stetson." Amanda's voice shook as she repeated the words she'd spoken to him before. "I'm not going anywhere and neither are you, do you hear me? Lee?"
But if he heard her at all, he gave no sign.
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The Agency
11:30 PM
"Thank you, Francine." Billy took a sip of the coffee she handed him. "Any luck on Operation Alpha Dawn?"
Francine shook her head. "I've been through all the archives twice, Billy—there's still nothing."
"Somehow I didn't think there would be," Billy sadly admitted.
"What is all this about?" Francine asked.
"Hell if I know. I guess all we can do now is wait and see what Lee and Amanda come up with." The telephone rang and he picked it up.
"Melrose here."
"It's Ragmop, Mr. Melrose—I think you'd better come down here."
"Down where?" Billy asked. "What's going on?"
"I'm in Matt Thompson's office." Ragmop's voice crackled slightly over the line. "I opened up the closet and his body fell out— his neck is broken—it's looks like he was strangled."
"Damn it!" Billy gripped the phone tightly. "Any sign of Scarecrow or Amanda?"
"There's no one else here." Ragmop said.
"Stay there, Ragmop, and don't let anyone else in that office. I'm on my way."
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Saturday, July 15, 1989
6:00 AM
"Lee?" Amanda fought to keep her voice steady as she spoke. "Sweetheart, can you hear me?"
Her husband's only response to Amanda's voice was a faint murmur. His eyes opened slightly, the pupils glazed and unfocused. His teeth chattered and his whole body shivered—a sign that the fever, and the infection, was growing worse.
Overnight Amanda had managed to locate an old first-aid kit in the bathroom—she had carefully cleaned and redressed the wound but it hadn't helped to stop the infection—Lee's injury seemed to be beyond the scope of Amanda's basic first-aid knowledge.
'You knew you were going to have to do this eventually,' she thought to herself. 'Lee's not well enough to travel—there's no one else.' Still Amanda hated to leave him alone in this state. She pulled the blanket over him and wiped at Lee's forehead and face with another clean washcloth before placing the cloth on his forehead.
"I'm going to have to leave," she told him, not knowing whether he could actually hear her or not. "There's bound to be a Ranger Station within ten miles of this cabin—I need to get you some help, all right?"
Silence. Amanda swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears. She took her husband's limp, warm hand in her own.
"I—I promise I'll be back soon. I'll find someone who can help us— and you'll be just fine." She took a deep breath. "I love you, Lee." Slowly Amanda stood, biting her lip at the pain that shot through bandaged ankle.
"—Manda," Lee's voice was very faint. His hand, still holding hers, squeezed slightly. "Take care—love you too."
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The Agency
9:00 AM
"It just doesn't make any sense, Billy." Francine sat at Matt's desk, staring at the screen as she scrolled down the document. "The killer was right here—he had this right in front of him. Why didn't he just erase the evidence?"
"Why would he bother?" Billy bent down, looking over Francine's shoulder. "That's not even useful—it doesn't tell us anything specific." He read the words on the screen out loud. "Operation Alpha Dawn ran from January of 1981 to July of 1985. The head of Operation Alpha Dawn is an agent known only as 'Alpha'— and we don't even know who the hell 'Alpha' might be."
"Any luck on locating Lee and Amanda?" Francine asked.
Billy shook his head. "None. It's like they've disappeared off the face of the earth. I can only hope they're still alive."
"You and me both," Francine said. "What about the family?"
"I have people I can trust keeping an eye on them." Billy straightened, pacing back and forth as he spoke. "At least I think I can trust them—at this point who knows. "
"You know whoever wrote this made a lot of errors. I've never seen an Agency document with so many typos."
"So they couldn't type." Billy shrugged. "Neither can I—it doesn't mean anything, Francine—just close the document."
"Doing it—now this is funny."
"What?" Billy sighed. "More typos?"
"Not exactly," Francine said. "It's asking if I want to save the changes."
"Save the—" Billy stopped his pacing as comprehension began to dawn. "They altered the document, Francine—that's why there are so many typos."
"So if I don't save the changes and then reopen it—" Francine's fingers danced over the keyboard. "And there's the original document."
"Let me see, that."
Francine stood as Billy took his place at the desk, looking at the document on the screen in front of him. His lips thinned as he scanned the information, one hand clenching into a fist.
"Well I'll be damned," he said softly. "Take a look at this, Francine."
"What is it?" Billy pointed to the screen. Francine's eyes widened as she read the information.
"Oh my God," she said. "Do you know what this means?"
"I know exactly what it means." Billy stood up, grabbing his jacket. "Come along, Francine. Let's go have a little word with our Mr. 'Alpha'."
9:30 AM
She had to rest, if only for a second.
Carefully Amanda lowered herself onto the nearby stump. Sweat ran down her face—she'd lost track of how many hours she'd been walking now. Her ankle throbbed painfully—she knew without looking that it was probably very swollen. Amanda's thoughts kept going back to Lee, alone and injured in that cabin, waiting for her to bring help.
But what if it was already too late? What if she'd left him too long? If she'd gone for help earlier, maybe—
'No,' Amanda told herself sternly. 'It's not too late. It can't be. You can't give up now.' She stood, every muscle in her body protesting as she limped down the narrow wooded trail. Help had to be somewhere nearby—Lee was depending on it.
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The Agency – Interrogation Room
Billy Melrose took a deep breath before reaching for the doorknob; turning it, he pushed the door open and stepped inside the small room. Francine followed behind him. She shut the door, leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed. Billy looked at the man sitting in a chair, handcuffed to a metal table in the middle of the room. He walked over to the center of the room and placed both of his hands on the table, looking at the man in front of him.
"We have you dead-on-rights, Dirk. Now I suggest you start talking."
Dirk Fredericks grinned ruefully, answering emotionlessly, "That's a cruel assessment, Billy."
"We know you were behind Operation Alpha Dawn. Why man?"
"Why Billy? Think about it—think about the intelligence we gathered—I admit the method was a bit unorthodox but it was a tremendous value to the west—the benefits outweighed the risks."
"And Eric Jarvis."
"Jarvis—yes, unfortunately he discovered the truth about our operation, so I led him and Scarecrow into a little trap."
Billy exchanged a glance with Francine. "So Eric was the intended victim—all the time."
Dirk nodded his head. "The committee decided he had to be eliminated."
Trying to keep his emotions in check Billy turned away. He turned back around to face Dirk asking, "Where are Scarecrow and Amanda?"
Dirk smiled smugly. "Mrs. Stetson was always a bit overeager. Wasn't she? She just had to stick her nose where it didn't belong." He laughed. "Yes. Reluctantly, they both had to die."
"I won't ask again, Dirk. Where are Lee and Amanda?" Billy hit his hand on the table.
Dirk looked up at Billy. "It won't matter. They're both dead."
Billy looked over at Francine nodding his head once. She opened the door letting in Doctor Quidd. Dirk looked at the doctor and lost all expression on his face, noticing the syringe in the doctor's hand.
"What's in there?" he asked nervously.
"Oh, just a little truth serum, Dirk."
"What? Now you listen here—"
Doctor Quidd walked towards Dirk, but Billy held up his hand stopping him. "I'm listening."
"Okay, I'll tell you where they are."
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Lee's life flashed before him— life's images flipped like pages in a photo album. Faint memories he had of his parents, the hard years living with the Colonel on military bases throughout the world, the many years at the Agency, and one fateful October morning. No longer the stone-cold agent who would not let emotions get to him—Amanda had long since removed that wall—brick by brick. Now feelings were coursing through him—the strongest being guilt. And images—images of cracked windshields, the sound of shattering glass, shards of glass raining down on them—
He saw himself riding in a blue colored sedan heading down the highway. He could feel the warmth of the sun coming through the front window. He glanced over at his beautiful wife and smiled at her. She noticed him looking at her and warmly smiled back, her eyes filled with love. He was thinking how lucky he was and how much the simple phrase 'walk with me' had forever changed his life. Everything was picture perfect. Beautiful weather, palm trees blowing gently in the sea breeze, the faint smell of the salty Pacific Ocean in the air, two soul mates truly in love with each other, ready to start a new life together. Lee pulled the car up to the pier. He had just opened the door, and stepped out, when he heard his friend, Barney, holler, "Get down, Lee." On instinct Lee yelled, "Amanda, get inside the car!" He could hear the sound of bullets ricocheting off a chain link fence posts. Again he found himself in a position where everything was happening too fast—and no time to think, or do anything. A few moments later, he opened the car door, and saw blood soaking through her white sweater. He rushed over to the passenger side of the car, throwing open the door; he pulled her close to him. As he held her, he could feel her life slipping away. He pleaded with God to take him instead.
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12:30 PM
"There." Billy raised his voice to be heard over the constant whirring sound of the helicopter blades. From up here they could make out the small figure of a woman, moving slowly across a forest clearing. "You see her?"
The pilot nodded. "There's no sign of Scarecrow."
"I know." Billy's right hand tightened into a fist as he tried to quell the growing anxiety in his gut. Lee was more than just an employee; he was also a very close friend. If anything had happened to him Dirk was going to pay.
"We'll land and talk to Amanda," Billy told him. "There must be a good explanation— there's no sense in jumping to conclusions before we know something concrete."
He only wished that he could believe his own words.
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"Billy," Amanda croaked. "I can't—can't breathe."
"Sorry." Billy stepped back. "I'm just so happy that you're all right, Amanda. Dirk told us that he'd—what happened to your ankle?"
"Sprained it, I think. We ran into a little trouble."
"I would think that's an understatement," Billy replied back.
"Wait a minute," Amanda said. "Did you say Dirk? As in Dirk Fredericks? He was behind all of this?"
Billy nodded. "Dirk and a few others. The rest are being rounded up by Dr. Smyth as we speak, but Dirk appears to have been the ringleader. I can brief you on more details later on. Where's Lee, by the way? He isn't—"
Amanda shook her head. "No. At least I don't think so— but he was shot in the shoulder and I think he's developed an infection—I left him in the cabin to get help. I just hope he's— that I wasn't too—" Amanda couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence. Tears welled up in her eyes; the fear and anxiety of the last few hours seemed to hit her all at once. Amanda felt her knees sag. Billy's hands held onto hers, supporting her. His dark eyes stared deep into her own.
"We'll take the helicopter to the cabin," he told her. "Don't worry, Amanda—Lee will be fine—you have to keep believing that. All right?"
Wordlessly Amanda nodded.
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"Amanda?" Lee whispered. He wondered if he was dreaming or hallucinating—he'd certainly done more than his share of that these past few hours. But his wife's cool hand brushing against his cheek certainly felt real enough. .
"Just rest, Lee," Amanda said. "We're going to get you help now—you'll be just fine."
'Just fine,' Lee thought to himself. For some reason hearing those words gave him a sense of peace—something that he hadn't felt in quite a while. From the noise and the vibrations Lee would guess they were on a plane or a helicopter but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to recall how he'd gotten there.
"What happened?" he asked as snatches of memory came floating back. "The man who tried to kill us—was he—"
"Shh." Amanda continued to stoke his cheek. "Don't worry about it—we'll talk about that later."
Part of Lee wanted to know all of the details now but he didn't think he had the energy to argue. "Later," he said. "—going to hold you to that, Mrs. Stetson."
Amanda's eyes were filled with tears but she was smiling. "It's a deal, Mr. Stetson."
"—don't—you forget it." Lee felt his eyes beginning to close. "Love you, Amanda."
Her lips briefly brushed against his. "I love you too."
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He saw her from across the room watching her gracefully move across the dance floor. He would never tire looking at her. God, was she beautiful dressed in that white dress, with her hair all pulled back. Her face lit up the whole room and her eyes were brimmed with happy tears.
He walked over to her and tapped a gentleman's shoulder. "May I?" he asked. The man bowed and stepped back. Lee took the hand of this beautiful woman and gazing into her dark brown eyes, he smiled down at her asking, "Would you care to dance?"
She nodded her head and he wrapped his arms around her waist, while she draped her arms around his neck, whispering, "I love you, Daddy."
Lee kissed his daughter's cheek. "Love you too, Munchkin."
Gliding across the dance floor he glanced around the room spying his lovely wife smiling back at them. Silently he thanked God for the women in his life. Yes, Lee Stetson was a lucky man.
Tag
4247 Maplewood Drive
Sunday, July 30, 1989
2:30 PM
"Where's the rattle, Jenna?" Lee sat at the picnic table, his shoulder still in a sling and his daughter in his lap. "Where'd it go, huh?"
Jenna's dark eyes were wide as she looked at the checkered tablecloth in front of her, searching for the object that Lee had hidden under a napkin only seconds ago. She reached out and lifted the napkin, revealing the rattle and laughing in delight as she did so.
"Good job, Munchkin." Lee kissed the top of his daughter's head. From the nearby boombox came the faint sounds of Janet Jackson's 'Miss You Much.' The aroma of the burgers that Amanda and Dotty were grilling wafted through the air and mixed with the scent of freshly-mown grass.
"Phillip next time can you remember to kick the ball into our goal and not theirs?" Jamie was saying as the two boys walked past. "Getting beaten by girls is just embarrassing."
"Get over it, wormbrain, it's only a soccer game."
"Phillip, don't call your brother a wormbrain," Lee warned him.
"Sorry, Lee," Phillip said. "But the worm—I mean my brother—gets all uptight about a little backyard game."
"Yeah well maybe if you haven't been so busy flirting with Erica—"
"Shut up about that." Phillip lowered his voice and Lee watched him cast a sideways glance towards Erica Jarvis who was standing across the yard with her sister, their heads close together, giggling. Erica looked towards Phillip, the corners of her mouth turning up into a grin. Lifting her hand, she gave him a little wave.
Jamie looked to Erica and then back to his brother and walked away, shaking his head in obvious disgust.
"The burgers are ready," Amanda called out. Jenna babbled and Lee bounced her gently up and down in his lap.
"Your brothers are funny, aren't they Munchkin? One day you'll be a teenager, too." As that thought went through his head he gave an inward wince. "But you won't be a teenager for a good long while, yet," he told her.
"Ba-ba," Jenna answered back.
"I never thought I'd see the day." Lee looked up to see Kathy Jarvis, holding two plates in her hands. "Lee Stetson with a baby girl."
"Things change."
"That they do." Kathy smiled. "Amanda told me to give you this." She handed him the plate and took a seat beside him.
"Thanks." Lee put the plate in front of him, moving it so that it was out of reach of Jenna's curious fingers.
Kathy was silent for a moment. "I'm the one who should be thanking you," she said, breaking the silence. "For finding Eric's killer—putting all this to rest. It sounds strange, but I always had the feeling that there was something missing about my husband's death, something—unfinished. Does that make sense?"
"Makes perfect sense. I think that maybe I felt the same way. You don't have to thank me, Kathy. It was the least I could do for him."
"Now maybe we can both have closure," Kathy told him.
"Lay old demons to rest," Lee spoke quietly, repeating the phrase that Billy had used.
"Eric would be proud of the way you turned out, Lee."
Lee looked over at Amanda near the grill—her gaze met his own and just like in his dream she smiled.
"Yes," Lee said. "I am a very lucky man."
