PLATEAU CITY, NEW YORK

Antoine Radson had officially given up on the idea of sleep. He got up, dressed, and drove to the plant. He had monthly maintenance to do on the company helicopter today anyhow. Considering he was salary, it made as much sense to get that out of the way early. He'd grab a cup of coffee from the Keurig coffee maker in Preston's office, then head to the hanger.

His head was down, lost in thought. Antoine was barely across the parking lot when a whirlwind of grey nearly collided with him.

"Watch where you're going- Radson! Thank god it's you!" Rhonda grabbed him by the arm. "Come on!" she started dragging him in the direction of the hanger.

Antoine shook his head, utterly perplexed. He allowed himself to be tugged by the sleeve. "Rowdy, what… when did you get here?"

"Last night, and I'm not staying. I've got a charter flight leaving from LaGuardia in less than an hour."

Antoine crammed his knit cap down over his ears. He looked from Rhonda to the main complex than back again. "But I have to work…"

Rhonda took a deep breath and composed herself as the hanger doors slid open.

"Radson, Antoine, I'm going to Springfield. Do you want a repeat of what happened at AlkaliStark?"

"God no!"

"Then move, Radson. I need to get flying."

AlkaliStark. Antoine gave a visible shudder at the memory. He could still smell Preston's blood, feel it drying between his fingertips. He rubbed his hands together briskly, trying to wipe the recollection from his skin.

"Why me?"

"I need a pilot with a valid license. Don't make me add 'stealing a helicopter' to my list of sins."

"I'm not really okay with this. Any of this."

Rhonda gave him a steely look as she slung the last ballast bag under the deck of the passenger seat. She said nothing, but her eyes softened ever so slightly as they met his. "That's fine. But I have a chance to stop this," she said brusquely. "I'm taking it. Are you with me or not?"

Antoine's only reply was a low growl, but he nodded nonetheless.

Rhonda swung herself into the cockpit and grabbed a clipboard from the console. "Then let's go. I have a plane to catch."

In the past decade that he'd worked at the nuclear plant, Rhonda had never given him an unnecessary order yet. There was something in her eyes, so measure of desperation and urgency that he couldn't resist. There were too many questions, he couldn't even get them straight. All he saw was Preston's blood on his hands. And Franklin: his cruel eyes, vicious high-pitched cackle; the tittering laugh of a madman.

Antoine slid the transport dolly under the runners of the AW119 Koala, powering the lift and wheeling the chopper onto the helipad. "What about Preston?" he yelled as he spun the helicopter into position.

"He'll just have to forgive you later," came Rhonda's voice from somewhere out of sight.

Antoine lowered the helicopter, and removed the dolly, stowing it back into the hanger. He hit a switch and the automatic doors because to slide shut. He darted between them and skidded over to the pilot's side of the chopper.

Rhonda was already in the seat, a headset draped around her neck. She'd energized the primary circuits and was already running several pre-flight checks.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"Saving us some time," Rhonda replied. "I already shifted the ballast to account for weight." She slid into the passenger seat, but didn't relinquish the clipboard. "Get her airborne, and let's go."

"Uh, right! Sure," Antoine agreed.

He wondered how Rhonda knew anything about priming the chopper but he felt now was not the time to ask. There'd be time to sort out what was going on once they were en route. Rhonda was already handing the controls on her side, cycling the rotors to full speed. Antoine threw his headset on and glanced at her.

Rhonda wasn't even looking at him. Everything was at full speed. Antoine raised the helicopter up, banking sharply and angling towards New York City.

As he flew over the parking area he saw Preston's car pulling into the lot. Preston was already out of his car, shielding his eyes, looking at the chopper with an expression of utter bewilderment. Antoine did a single arc, rolling to the right as he did. He raised a hand in a salute, then cut out over the city and river.

"So," he said as he levelled out. "Do you mind telling me what this is all about."

Rhonda looked up, her typically stoic face oddly forlorn. "I've done a terrible thing, Antoine."

Antoine snorted. "Yeah? Which one?" He glanced out of the corner of his eye at her.

"Spare me the attitude, Radson. You don't know the half of it."

Antoine tightened his lips. "Oh, I think you deserve all the attitude I can give you. I mean, I'm taking you to La Guardia, but you haven't exactly told me why. And what do you know about AlkaliStark anyway?"

"I know that it's where Franklin Burns shot Preston. I know that it wasn't a kidnapping gone wrong. It was an assassination. Franklin wasn't aiming for Preston, he was aiming for Burns' assistant. He missed. He was sent to prison. He broke free. Now Franklin's on his way to Springfield to finish the job."

None of this was making sense to Antoine. "How!?" he demanded.

Rhonda looked out the clear plexi-bubble at their feet. "I… I helped."

If there was ever a moment Antoine felt like murdering someone, that was it. Visions of throwing the helicopter into a hover and hurling Rhonda out the cockpit flashed through his mind. He felt the muscles in his jaw knot up. "Why?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"I thought I was getting files transferred over that would expose Burns' company. He needs to be taken down after what happened to Tad." She still couldn't meet Antoine's eyes.

La Guardia airport was rapidly approaching. Antoine requested permission to land, circled while it was approved, then dropped down on the helipad.

"We'll continue this on the jet if you're coming. I hope to god you are," Rhonda added. She pulled her headset off and hung in on the back of her seat. "Move, Radson."

"Why do you need me?"

Rhonda grasped his wrist with her ashen hand. "Because I can't do this alone, and no one will believe me. Burns trusts you. I can't do this without you."

Antoine swore and clapped his hands together. He looked at Rhonda, expression pained.

She met his gaze, and this time didn't look away.

With another growled profanity, Antoine slung himself out of the chopper. "What about her?" he asked, gesturing to the Little Diva as they crossed the tarmac to the executive lot.

"She'll be fine, Antoine, trust me."

A long-range passenger jet was already out and idling. Rhonda flashed her ID and the pilot escorted her aboard. He held up his hand, baring Antoine. "Only passengers beyond this point, sir." Antoine caught a glimpse of the stun gun under the man's jacket.

"How much?" Rhonda asked, reaching for her wallet. "To add him to the list. How much?"

The pilot listed a number. Antoine's eyes widened.

"Good, I'll put it on my card," Rhonda replied.

The pilot stepped aside and let Antoine board.

"That's practically a down payment on a car, Rowdy," Antoine remarked looking about the cabin. Aside from them, it was empty. The pilot and co-pilot had already secured the cockpit.

Rhonda threw herself into a chair. "For what I paid to get this flight, I could've bought a car in full. Between you and I, Radson, I don't think I'll be coming back from this."

"Oh," Antoine replied morosely. He slid into the seat across from her and buckled his seatbelt. He didn't know what to say. Antoine tried to look anywhere but at Rhonda. He picked at a loose thread on the frayed cuff of his canvas jacket. "Gonna tell me what happened?" he asked softly.

Rhonda found herself caught off guard by Antoine's surprisingly gentle tone. She reached into her small travel bag and pulled out a photo. She looked at it, then tucked it back in. "Let's start from the beginning. What do you think you know?"

The thread had fully unraveled. Antoine twisted it around his finger, and drummed his feet on the floor of the cabin. "About?"

She gestured around them. "About all of this."

"Well, you worked for Mister Dimas since forever, and you're pretty much the avatar of the plant. You and I were never friends, but we weren't enemies either. We each did our thing. Then that stuff happened, and you decided to go after Preston when he came back. Then you went to India. Now you're back, and things are all messed up again."

"Succinct as always, Radson."

Rhonda stared at the ceiling. "We've got a few hours before we land in Springfield. Hopefully we get there before Franklin. In the meantime, I'm going to tell you a story, and I'm only going to tell it once, so you'd better pay attention. You think you and Preston were the only ones affected by Tad's death? You have no idea."

Rhonda found herself wishing in vain for a cigarette. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began.


THEN

Thaddeus Dimas sat across the table from a young woman in her early 20s, her blond hair cut in a bob that ended just above her shoulders. She wore a modest grey dress suit, and a simple silver necklace. Her grey eyes sparkled with keen intelligence that belied her training as a typist.

Thaddeus Dimas, Tad, was laughing, his paw-like hands resting over his stomach. She'd met the man at a gallery in Albany, and the two had formed an immediate rapport over an argument about a Renoir painting.

He'd explained he was from Yale, then tried to impress her with a made-up story about the artist; a painter he knew nothing about. She had immediately called his bluff, and had been brazen enough to even correct him, pointing to a date in her guide book.

"Miss LeBlanc, I daresay no one's bothered to challenge me like that before. Especially not some typist. You really are quite brazen, aren't you? Look at you, a little slip of a thing, and yet you'll stand up to me. That should anger me, but it's refreshing." He grinned. "I'm coming on board as the executive for an up-and-coming energy project in north Plateau City. A little old nuclear generating station. I could use a secretary with your spunk. What do you say, girl, do we have a deal?"

She gave a tilt of her head, falsely submissive. "Well, Mister Dimas, if you think I'm qualified."

Tad laughed again. "Qualifications can be learned; but character is something you either have or you don't. And you, young lady, have an overabundance of the stuff!"


THEN

"Congratulations on your anniversary," Evita said, laughing as she poured a glass of champagne.

Tad gave his deep laugh. "My dear, it's only been one year."

Evita winked. "Exactly! Twelve months of progress and momentum," she replied, grabbing a small camera out of her purse. She aimed it at her husband.

"That's really not necessary," Tad said, raising a hand to cover his face."

"Of course it is. Miss LeBlanc, get in there with him."

Rhonda looked up from her place at the side of Tad's office. "Mrs. Dimas, I hardly think…"

"Call me 'Evita,' and I insist. You've been keeping this man on track for the past twelve months That's no easy task. Come over here."

Feeling both honored and suddenly shy, Rhonda slipped in behind her boss's chair and stood. Despite her bashfulness, she straightened her back and put on the proudest expression she could. Tad poured her a glass and raised his champagne, toasting them both as shutter clicked.


THEN

Thaddeus Dimas grinned as he handed the baby to his personal assistant, Rhonda LeBlanc. "My son! What do you think, girl? A chip off the old block?"

Rhonda took the child gently and held him in her arms. "Little Rhodes, I daresay you look like your mother's son," she cooed, stroking the baby's silky black hair and smirking at Tad. "Are you sure he's yours, Tad? I don't see the resemblance at all." Rhonda was clearly teasing. The boy resembled his father as much if not more than his mother.

Evita Dimas, the boy's mother laughed with maternal pride. "He's got Tad's appetite, that's for sure."

"And just what's that supposed to mean?" Thaddeus Dimas asked, giving his wife a sideways look. Despite his serious expression, his eyes shown with delight. His little family, complete once more.

Rhonda was there for the child's baptism, staring into the child's face as he was pronounced her godson. Tad's bear arms wrapped around his wife, son, and Rhonda as the camera flashed. Rhodes, always the quiet child blinked thoughtfully in the light. He was a quiet yet confident child, Rhonda decided. She could see him growing up to make a good police man, or a philosopher.


THEN

"We need better transportation," Tad announced over a cup of coffee at the local diner. "I'm thinking of buying a private jet for the company."

Rhonda, Head of Human Resources, laughed. "That's a waste of good money. You don't travel that much, and it's only good for getting from one airport to the other. I'd recommend a helicopter. You could justify the expense better to the Board. Tell them it could be used for short flights between here and Albany or the City. You could even make the argument it would allow for better inspection of the plant and surrounding property." Rhonda held out her hands. "A suggestion, that's all."

Tad poured another packet of sugar into his coffee. He liked it sweet. "Who'd pilot it? If I paid for lessons, would you?"

Rhonda shrugged. "If I have to, then yes. I will."

He leaned back in his chair. "Good. Do some research. You figure out what we need, and I'll figure out how we'll pay for it. Sound like a plan?" He extended his massive hand.

Rhonda took it and shook. "A plan," she agreed.


THEN

Associate Vice President and personal pilot, Rhonda LeBlanc took the headset off angrily and threw it into the footwell of the cockpit. "Look, you and I both know what you're doing on your so-called 'business trips.' I'll not have any part of it. I have half a mind to call Evita and tell her right now!"

Tad held up his hands. "Rhonda, Rhonda, calm down." He reached for the cell phone in her hand, but she pulled it away from his reach. "Firstly, do you really think that'll help anything? Quite honestly, how do you know she's not already aware of it; that we don't have an open marriage? You don't travel with her, are you so sure she doesn't have her own liaisons in my absence?"

Rhonda hesitated, phone held in one hand.

"Are you willing to put yourself in the middle of a married couple's private relationship based on what you think you know about it? How would that affect your relationship with her, or with Rhodes?" He reached for his phone, gently this time.

Rhonda folded it shut and handed it back to its owner.

"Well, Tad, 'open marriage' or not, all I hear are excuses. I won't be having any part of this. After this trip, I'm done flying. You'll have to find yourself a new pilot. I'm not doing this anymore."


THEN

Rhonda LeBlanc stared at the application in Tad's hand. "Certified instructor?" she asked, wonderingly. "And he's willing to work for peanuts."

Tad smirked. "He doesn't have much choice. He's fresh out of training school and has a ton of debt. I'm offering him a steady job with a 'reasonable' salary. I could pay him more, but he doesn't have to know that."

Rhonda looked at the photo. A man with blue eyes, blond hair, and a goatee stared up from her palm. "Radson, huh. What is he, Norwegian or something?"

Tad's curled a lip. "I don't care if he's a lowland gorilla so long as he can fly. He's got excellent marks, and no sense of what he's worth. We'll make him think he's something great! He's perfect."


THEN

Antoine Radson crept into Thaddeus Dimas's office wearing a Hawaiian shirt over a black tee shirt. Vice President Rhonda LeBlanc had been on her way out. She paused, and stepped back into the office, watching, curious.

"What's this?" Dimas asked, gesturing to the bright colored cloth.

Antoine brushed his blond hair out of his face and looked mildly embarrassed. "The guys in the break room told me it's Aloha Shirt Friday."

"Did they now." It wasn't a question.

Antoine nodded. "I can take it off if it's a problem, sir."

Tad looked up and folded his hands in front of him. Hazing the new guy, he thought with a touch of ire. Well, if they're going to play a joke on him, I shall have the last laugh on them. "Is that your only shirt like that?" he asked.

The pilot shook his head. "No, sir. I have others. I like 'em."

Tad cracked his knuckles, calloused hands rubbing over each other. "Well, here's the thing, Radson. They're quite right. The thing is, Aloha Shirt Friday is only for management-"

"Oh," Antoine muttered and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Wait!" Tad interjected. "You didn't let me finish. It's only for management, and for specialized personnel like, say, pilots."

Antoine's eyes lit, a grin slowly spreading across face. "Really, sir?"

Tad nodded. "Absolutely. You've got VIP status around here. Hell, I don't care if you wear a shirt like that every day of the week. Just don't rub it in the other employees' faces, alright? If anyone gives you any grief, let me know and I'll handle them personally."

"For real?"

"Yes, Radson. 'For real.'"

The blond-haired man's delight was positively infectious. He gave a little hop, and a bow in one. "Yes, sir! I'll be sure to do that, sir. Thank you!"

"Any time, now, get on with you. I have some work to attend to."

The young pilot nodded again and backed out, still doing that awkward hop-and-bow. Rhonda watched him go.

"What was that all about?" she asked, perplexed.

"Oh, I got a call from one of the supervisors that he wasn't wearing approved attire, wanted to get to the bottom of it. He's a bit of a lost puppy, rather out of his element around here, but his heart's in the right place." Tad folded his arms behind his head. "Sounds like some of the old salts are trying to have fun at his expense. I figured I'd have some fun at theirs. I don't care if he dyes his hair pink as long as he does his job."

Rhonda rolled her eyes. "Pink would be a bit much, Tad."

"You know what I mean. It's a metaphor. I like that kid. I don't know what it is, but there's something about him that just makes me smile."

"Like a 'puppy?'"

Tad laughed. "Exactly! Like a mascot or something. Let him wear whatever he wants. As long as he can do his job, I don't mind. It'll bug the hell out of those duffers downstairs!"


THEN

Senior Vice President, Chief of Operations, and Board Member LeBlanc lowered the phone from her ear. Thaddeus Dimas… dead. At least he gave his life trying to play the hero, Rhonda thought sadly. She pulled out a picture from her desk and looked at it. It was a print taken in the early days of their career, more than thirty years ago. Thaddeus Dimas standing behind his desk, Rhonda next to him with a notepad in hand. Evita had taken that picture. She'd been so proud of her husband's CEO career. Such a bright future.


SOMEWHERE 41,000FT OVER THE MIDWEST

Rhonda finished her story. They sat in silence for some time. Finally, Antoine spoke. "I never knew you flew the Little Diva… or any of the rest of that," he confessed.

"Well now you do," Rhonda LeBlanc replied. "I learned shortly after Preston got back that Dimas hadn't been killed as the result of a kidnapping gone wrong. I found out he was involved in the illegal transport of spent fuel assemblies, and you two were in on it." She pointed a finger at Antoine's chest. "And you knew about it. Both of you. Bad enough Preston was in on it, but you too? He trusted you, Antoine!"

Antoine looked away. "I know. It bothers me. Just because I don't show it doesn't mean I don't care."

"You're preaching to the choir," Rhonda gave a dry laugh.

Antoine busied himself working another thread free. "So, I guess… why did you go after Preston so hard? Why's you sneak onto Burnsie's property?"

Rhonda regarded him neutrally. "Mistakes were made."

"That's not really an answer."

"Fine, Radson. You want the truth? Since there won't be another chapter for me after this – one way or the other I'm going to go away for a long time – I'll be perfectly honest with you: the day Tad died, I lost one of my oldest and dearest friends. I blamed Preston and especially Burns for his death. However rational or irrational it might've been, I wanted to see you all get what I felt you deserved: ruination. But not murder. That's why we're heading to Springfield now: to beat Franklin and stop more senseless deaths if we get there first. Even if Burns won't listen to me, I'm hoping he'll listen to you. Or perhaps I can try to reason with Franklin. There's been enough tragedy, and I'm tired of it. I want an end to it all. "

There was an oddly fatalistic tone to her voice, something that made Antoine's stomach knot up.

"You can't reason with Franklin."

She gave him a joyless grimace. "What can I lose by trying? Falvelle Prison for the Criminally Brilliant and Insane is about six hours from of Springfield, just across the border in South Tacoma. Our flight takes six hours. I'm hoping we make it in time."

"What if we're too late?" he asked softly.

"Then their deaths will be on my head, and I'll have to accept the consequences."