Chapter 6

The little girl had toddled completely off the track and was closer to Jess than she was to the doctors who were supposed to be watching her. All three had rushed to the other side of the track where Jaime was attempting to rise (very shakily) to her feet. They only looked away from Becca for a moment...but one moment was all Jess might need. She longed to feel those sweet little chubby arms around her just one more time. If she stepped out from the trees she could grab the child in that one brief moment...but she didn't dare.

Instead, she called out in a very soft, conspiratorial whisper. ''Becca...shhh...over here...''

Becca turned...and smiled. ''Jessy!'' she said excitedly, rushing toward her favorite nurse.

Jess put her finger to he lips. ''Shhh...'' she cautioned - then held her arms open wide to encircle the little girl, fulfilling her longing for that happy toddler hug.

Jess looked out to the other side of the track where Jaime was now standing quite unsteadily on Rudy's arm, with Michael holding her around the waist for support. Mark had turn and was looking for Becca already, heading in the direction where he'd last seen her. But...it was too soon! If only she could have a little more time! A moment of truth had come for Jess. Becca was in her arms and her car was close by, on the other side of the trees. Should she pick up the little girl and run...or send her back to Mark?

Reluctantly, she cut the hug short and turned Becca around. ''Go and see Doctor Mark,'' she instructed. ''He's looking for you.''

''No.'' Becca turned and threw her arms around the nurse's legs. ''Jessy!''

''Go on now,'' Jess insisted, giving the girl a very gentle push out from among the trees to where Mark would be able to see her.

''Jessy!'' Becca called over her shoulder. Then... ''Jessy! Jessy'' she crowed to Mark.

Now the choice was made for her. Jess had no alternative but to turn and run.

''Becca, where did you go?'' Mark asked, swooping her up into his arms. Rudy and Michael were slowly leading Jaime toward the hospital's Emergency entrance and Mark moved to join them. Becca kicked and squirmed against him, still calling the nurse's name. He gathered that she saw the facility and associated it with the nurses who had cared for her there. ''I don't think Jess is working today, Sweetie,'' he told the tantruming child. ''Let's take care of your Mama right now, okay?''

''No, no, NO! Jessy!''

Jess waited a little further back in the trees, until she saw the little group enter the facility, before she started the car. The nurse in her wanted to go inside and somehow let them know what was really causing Jaime's condition...but she knew she'd just been about to do something irrevocable...nonredeemable...and not because of mind control or hypnosis. Her thoughts were her own now - and they'd nearly led her down a very dark path. Instead of confessing the rest of what she'd done, back while still under the order to 'destroy', so that Jaime (and maybe Steve) could be helped, Jess started her car and quickly fled the scene.


Russ debated with himself about returning Peggy's call. He was already on the road and a personal call in front of the driver just wouldn't be good form. As much as her voice always started his day on a good note, he would have to wait the 10 or 15 minutes it would take for the car to fight its way through traffic. If nothing pressing was going on, he'd call her from his office. Then he finally decided he'd call her first, before reading his messages, returning the mass of phone calls that always seemed to await him or the inbox that got fuller the more he tried to accomplish. Hearing from her would make the rough spots bearable; somehow, she always found a way to do that. In an ideal world, they'd work in the same office (instead of separate headquarters of the same agency, halfway across the country). Perhaps some day he could change that...but for now just hearing her voice would have to do.


Steve was seated on a rickety wooden chair in a damp, musty tunnel beneath the office section. He wasn't secured in any way - but the guns just inches away from either side of his head precluded any attempts to escape. He was still maintaining his 'cover', making universal signs for deafness with a questioning look to try and fool his captors into believing he didn't understand. His act proved effective in at least one way: his captors spilled bits of information as they tried to goad him into speaking.

''So you were sent here,'' the interrogator began as he paced in front of the chair. ''Was it Griffin or Donahue?'' he asked again. ''Or maybe Morrisey himself?''

Morrisey?! Steve struggled not to show shock (or any reaction) when he heard the name. He couldn't mean Frank Morrisey...could he? The name had to be a coincidence! If the OSI's lead attorney had his hands in an arms-and-information ring halfway around the world...they were all in a world of trouble! Even though he hadn't been struck, Steve's head began swimming alarmingly, his sight blurring and returning, just when he needed his wits about him the most!