O'Rourke sat across from Colonel Skinetti in an isolated room. It was an interrogation room. Skinetti was smoking a cigar, after politely asking her permission to do so, and had his hands folded on the metal table they were sitting at. He took a long drag.
"Sorry, it's my vice. We all have one, don't we?" He said genially. He was an older man in his late fifties with salt and pepper hair. He had a bushy mustache that twitched like a rolling caterpillar when he exhaled the smoke and O'Rourke was wildly reminded of Alice in Wonderland.
"Yes, sir. I think they're allowed after a certain point." Skinetti smiled and leaned back in his chair.
"You tell quite a tale." He began. He was now looking at an open manila folder under his hands with O'Rourke's record details. "But your history is…impressive." He tapped his head. "How's it feel?"
"I don't feel it, sir." She answered. "I did when it happened and I don't care to feel it again." He nodded soulfully and breathed out another cloud slowly.
"You seem to be a good soldier, Private." Skinetti said. O'Rourke felt he was baiting a trap. "So why did you fail to follow protocol and report to the debriefing? According to your time line here…" He glanced down at the file again. "You escaped Stockman in time and were in recovery. Why didn't you report in?" She knew she had to tread carefully. He wouldn't buy that she had felt scared. Not based on her file he had clearly read cover to cover.
"Permission to speak frankly, sir." He set his cigar lightly on the ashtray at the table and folded his hands again.
"Granted."
"I wasn't sure how high this went. Stockman was at the locker with legit access. I didn't know what kind of clearance he had or who was backing him up top." She paused letting that sink in a moment. "For all I knew, the debriefing was how he was planning to get me back in custody to go after Ms. Grey." He remained silent and she knew he was using it to trick her into defending herself which would lead to a more convoluted story which he would trip her with. So she remained silent as well. Several moments passed.
"You play the game well." Skinetti acknowledged.
"Sir?" She asked, frowning in confusion, though she knew what he was alluding to.
"Good soldier." He muttered.
"Once the threat was neutralized and I was discharged, I did my duty, sir, and reported in."
"Hmmm." He picked up his cigar and puffed it leisurely. "Yeah…that you did." He flipped through her folder a few pages. "Reserves and personal security." He said to himself. "What exactly is your relationship with Ms. Grey?"
"She is my employer sir, but she's also my friend." O'Rourke paused. "She wasn't my friend when she employed me. Friendship didn't come until much later, sir."
"Friendship, huh? Ms. Grey is a powerful woman in the science arena."
"Yes, sir. It was my duty and my honor to protect her from those who would do her harm."
"And you certainly did. Tell me again…what did you use to 'neutralize' Dr. Stockman?"
"A chair leg." O'Rourke answered without hesitation. They had broken a chair since the legs were similar to the diameter of Don's Bo staff.
"Purpose?"
"Leverage, sir. My injured knee was difficult to stand on. I used the leg to lean into for support while ensuring I was cutting off his oxygen supply. I had only meant for him to fall unconscious, but he fought and I pressed hard. His neck snapped at the sudden pressure." Skinetti could read nothing in O'Rourke's face. Certainly not remorse.
"This is different from war." Skinetti ventured. "Up close and personal. And you owed him, didn't you? For your knee."
"I do not take more than what is due, sir. I did not seek to take his life because he did not take mine. I could see Ms. Grey breathing, so I knew he did not take hers."
"And if he had?"
"This would be a very different situation, sir." Skinetti allowed one side of his mouth to curl upwards.
"You would have killed him?"
"It is very likely, sir."
"You admit it to me freely? What is to say you didn't lose your temper by seeing your friend dying on the floor?" O'Rourke paused.
"May I speak off the record for a moment, sir?" Skinetti raised a bushy eyebrow, but turned off the tape recorder and video camera. "Thank you, sir. I'll speak bluntly because I do not believe in hedging or hiding. If Stockman had killed Sandra, you would never have seen his body or Ms. Grey's. You would never have seen me again. We would not be speaking at all. If you looked at my records, and I know you have in great detail, sir, then you are fully aware of my ops background and what my training indicates. I could easily have made this all disappear. But he did not kill Sandra. My only mission, sir, was to keep her alive. That included not having to dispatch of a body. I came forward because her life was more important than mine. I understand the position you are in and I respect it, sir. Do what you need to do."
Skinetti took a long drag from his cigar before expelling it just as deeply. He flipped through her file some more.
"Your story checks out with the police." He said at last. "And your army record stands strong with many acts of valor. I see here you served with General Carter."
"Yes, sir. It was my honor to do so."
"Gave you a shining recommendation to Ms. Grey." O'Rourke said nothing to this. He closed the file and chewed his cigar a little. "You don't seem the type to get emotional, soldier. Many a private I know would be shakin' and beggin' in your situation and there you sit, cool as a cucumber telling me I can do what I need to do. Took shrapnel to the head and still completed the mission at hand. I see you turned down higher rank twice. Explain that to me."
"I like field work." O'Rourke said simply.
"Field work?"
"Sir, I like to be in it, not on the sidelines. My COs always gave me free reign in the field. They trusted my instincts so I saw no need to move up in rank."
"Didn't want to make it a career? Settle your future?"
"I was and am proud to serve my country, sir. And if I am called to active duty again I shall serve with honor and be pleased to do so. But if I am not needed, then I would prefer to find my place away from the carnage of war. My sincere goal is to protect, but I prefer not to witness more of what I have seen too much of, sir." She paused and contemplated. Skinetti was watching her intently. "I say without arrogance, sir, that I know what my skill set is and I have used it to the best of my ability to salvage what good I was able from a terrible situation. I can do this in personal security just as well and have done, sir. I do not regret my decision to pursue a career with Ms. Grey."
"Do you regret what you did to Dr. Stockman?"
"I regret that I did not incapacitate him before he harmed Ms. Grey. I regret that he will not stand trial to answer for his crimes."
"His crimes?" Skinetti asked evenly.
"I am sure you are more aware of them than I, sir. But he held me captive and I know what his intent was. I cannot presume the arrogance to believe I was the first or last he wished to abuse. I only know what he said he planned and I believe he meant every word and I further believe that he had the knowledge to do as he said he could, sir."
"Hmmm." Skinetti agreed darkly. "We are currently uncovering some rather…unsavory information. The disks you provided were apparently only the beginning." O'Rourke tightened her jaw, betraying a hint of emotion. Skinetti read it as disgust and approved. "Standard procedure in this instance is to serve time for nine months, six if you have good behavior, in a minimum security holding facility. Partly for censure regarding your slip in duty and partly to remand you to custody while the trial details are being bandied back and forth." He puffed three quick inhales and blew them out in a circle.
"I understand, sir. I am ready to serve in this way as well." His lips curled again in what might be considered a smile.
"However," He continued. "Given your injury and the attention you'll need for physical therapy, I am happy to place you in custody of a parole officer in lieu of time served. You can live at home as you have been. You are to attend all physical therapy sessions, any missed without prior notification and approval will send you straight to jail. You are to attend all parole meetings with your officer and board. Again, any missed without prior notification and approval will send you straight to jail. You understand? No trial or arbitration. Direct to jail, sentence implemented upon your apprehension." He looked at her closely again. "Do you understand what I have just explained to you?"
"I understand what it is you are saying, sir." O'Rourke said carefully. "What I do not understand is why. This is not standard protocol. I should be placed-"
"Protocol." Skinetti waved his hand. "Protocol was written by paper pushers behind a desk who have never been in the shit. Or they've forgotten what it's like. But I'm your superior officer and have been granted the authority to handle your processing and this is the decision I have made based on my personal assessment of you today and by several interviews I've had in the past week with those who have ties to you." His cigar was now to the quick and he snubbed it out firmly. "I do not make this decision lightly. If you had failed to meet any of my expectations, you would now be escorted to a cell for holding. But all I see in front of me is a dutiful soldier who did what she had to in order to complete her mission which is exactly what we trained you to do." He stood and straightened, then handed her an envelope from her folder. "This is your parole information. Be diligent and this will not blot your record."
"Sir." She said in acknowledgement of her new orders. She sat up straight in her wheelchair and saluted him with a snap. He returned it.
"Dismissed." O'Rourke took her new orders to heart and left on her own power. Now to her other duties: Ms. Grey.
Lyde watched the hospital entrance for a long time. She was checking to see if there was any flurry of activity due to O'Rourke's disappearance. But there was nothing. Standard ambulance and patient traffic only. She decided to walk in and make her way to Sandra's room discretely. O'Rourke had texted everyone the minute she knew where Sandra was located, so Lyde knew where to go. She tried to stop touching her hair. She knew such a strange action would attract attention, but the coolness of the air on her neck and the lightness from the absence of her golden tresses was a constant discomfort to her. She felt bald and ugly. Her entire life she had loved her hair. It was the one thing she had accepted as beautiful about her. While working, she usually wore it up and out of her way, but when she went out, she let it cascade down her shoulders in silken rivers. She recalled the first time Lance had seen her with her hair down. He had stared at her a long while and his expression was one of appreciation and desire.
Raph had said it didn't look bad, but he hadn't said it looked good, either. This saddened Lyde and made her mourn the loss more so than if she had been alone. She made her way to the elevators while keeping a look out for people who might be scoping her out, but saw no one noteworthy. She reached Sandra's floor and saw right away that her door was closed and guarded with two police officers. One stood and the other sat in a chair reading a magazine. She didn't halt her step, but continued past them and sat in the lounge area. She took out her cell and texted Raph about the guard and that she couldn't check on Sandra's status. She put her phone on mute so that when Raph texted back, it came silently. He told her not to engage the officers or try to get in the room. Sandra was probably fine if the officers were not in panic mode.
She rolled her eyes. He never wanted her to do anything, so his response came as no surprise to her. However, this time, unlike other times, she decided to listen to him. When she had gone off on her own, it hadn't really ended well for her. She texted back that she would be in the lounge and would listen to Raph. He wrote back 'damn right J'. She laughed. Raph using a smiley face was highly amusing to her. She spent the next hour and a half sipping a cup of coffee, which was terrible and made her want to brush her teeth, as she read all the magazines on the table. Then the doctor came, looked in on Lyde and then came out and spoke with the detective and the two officers. They moved away from the door enough that Lyde knew she could slip into the room unseen. Which is exactly what she did. She then stepped into the closet and waited for the officers to close the door and post guard again.
She realized too late the idiocy of her move. The chances of such an occurrence happening again in order for her to leave were very low. She cursed herself inwardly, but decided to worry about that later. So much for listening to Raph. Once the door was closed, Lyde padded out of the closet and crouched next to Sandra's bed on the other side. She wanted to be ready to duck down and hide if she needed to. Sandra was sleeping, so Lyde touched her gently. Sandra's eyes blearily opened, then snapped wide at Lyde's face so closely.
"Lyde." Lyde whispered before Sandra could cry out. It was enough to make Sandra hesitate and peer closer at Lyde.
"Lyde?"
"Like my new 'do?" Lyde asked sadly.
"Oh, Lyde, dear." Sandra moaned. Lyde took in Sandra's appearance and was dismayed. The entire left side of her face was a bandage, but bruises peaked out boldly beneath. Sandra's left eye was full of blood from all the broken vessels, but it still swiveled and darted alertly over Lyde's face.
"Sandra." Lyde murmured. "Does it hurt a lot?"
"Not, too bad." Sandra murmured. "Not safe here for you now."
"They didn't see me come in. It's okay. Do you…remember what happened?" Sandra swallowed thickly and ran her dry tongue over her lips. Immediately, Lyde reached for the water pitcher next to her on the side table and poured Sandra a cup. She propped Sandra up and helped her drink it.
"Yes." Sandra said. "I remember." She took a deep breath. "Stockman. Hit me with …something. Donnie…Don he…killed him." Sandra mouthed this last as if afraid to say it at all.
"He had to." Lyde explained, thinking Sandra was horrified over the death.
"I know…did it because of me…my fault." Tears began to seep out of her eyes.
"Don't worry about that now." Lyde tried to calm her down. "I don't know what happened, but I'm sure you had your reasons."
"No." Sandra argued, desperate to explain. "Mrs. Callahan's dead…my fault. I shouldn't have acted like I did." Her sorrow was overwhelming her and making her breathing hitch. "Should be me. I should be dead. I want to be dead."
"Hush now." Lyde whispered firmly. "Don't think like that. Don would be so hurt to hear you say that. He's so worried for you." These words elicited a strangled sob from Sandra.
"Why? I want him to hate me, Lyde. I need him to. I made him a murderer."
"Murderer? No. He was defending us. I think we all knew it was going to end with Stockman dead or us." Lyde watched as Sandra kept crying, not believing Lyde's words. "Don was defending you. You should have seen the look on his face when he saw Stockman strike you. He was furious. All he could think of was getting to you. He hovered nearby, but he was…"
"Afraid of me." Sandra cut in dully. "I am so broken; I drive everyone who tries to care away from me." Her sobs started anew. Lyde brushed her forehead soothingly.
"Shhh." Lyde murmured. "He was so relieved when he found out you were okay. It was the one thing he was concerned about. He can't sleep for worry over you. He's a good soul. They all are." Sandra nodded slowly. "I'm glad you're okay, Sandra." Lyde took her hand and squeezed it. "We made it. We finally made it out."
Lyde sat with Sandra for a long time until darkness fell. Sandra suddenly panicked and tried to turn to see the clock.
"What is it?"
"They do a room search…same time." Sandra said quickly. "They'll be doing it in about ten minutes." Sandra looked back to Lyde with fear in her eyes. Lyde's heart started to beat quickly.
"A search?" She squeaked in whisper. Sandra nodded. Lyde stood, licking her lips. She took out her phone. She smiled at Sandra. "Smile?" She waggled her phone.
"No…please. No pictures…"
"It will calm a lot of restless minds." Sandra sighed heavily and mustered up a weak smile when Lyde started spouting reasons to. "Good one." She looked around the room.
"What will you do? I can try to call them in and you try to slip out?"
"No. Too risky. If they see me in here, I'm dead meat." Lyde bit her lip. Her eyes went to the open window and fluttering curtains. "Frick." Lyde muttered.
"What?"
"I guess I'm going on the roof." Lyde sighed heavily. She leaned over and touched Sandra's cheek. "We'll check in on you, okay? But no more talk of wanting to die. Please? I don't think I can handle anymore horror in my life, okay?" Sandra looked away, but nodded her agreement.
"Be safe, Lyde." Lyde smirked.
"Well…I'm going to have to call Raph, so…we'll see how safe I am when I tell him I'm on the roof." Sandra managed an honest smile this time and watched as Lyde slipped lithely out of the window and walked the ledge until she got to the roof of another lower level building. She settled herself and leaned against the building wall that rose higher. She looked around and saw no windows facing to this rooftop. She decided this warranted a call and not a text. She steeled herself and called.
"Lyde?" Raph's voice was rough, but she could hear the concern and worry under it all.
"Hey." Lyde began nonchalantly. She could almost see Raph narrow his eyes at her.
"Hey yourself. Watcha got?"
"Well…I saw Sandra." Lyde began with the good news.
"What? I told you not to go in there! Didn't I say?" Okay, not good news.
"I had a window of opportunity and I wasn't seen. I talked with her." Raph sighed furiously with a deep rumbling roar.
"How is she?" He finally asked.
"She's…got a lot of guilt right now, but other than that, I think she's okay. Her whole left face is a bruise. I can't see the cuts so I don't know if they'll scar bad or not. Her left eye…it was full of blood, but it seemed like she could still see out of it." Raph was silent a moment and she knew he could hear the tremor in her voice.
"That'll all heal." He said finally and the animosity was gone. "Don'll be glad to hear that."
"I took a picture to show him." Raph chuckled.
"He'll like that, too. You comin' back now? It's dark, so we can patrol."
"About that…" Lyde hedged.
"What?" Raph gritted. She knew his jaw was clenched and that his hands had fisted. She could just tell by his tone of voice.
"Um…I'm sort of…you might say that I…"
"What?" Raph roared. "Spit it out!"
"I'm on the roof." There was a long moment of silence and Lyde was more nervous than if he had been shouting at her.
"How did you get on the roof?" His voice was dangerously low and threatening.
"Um…the police were going to do a search of the room so I had to…find a way…out." Lyde told him feebly.
"Lemme guess: you can't get down."
"No. I haven't done a lot of looking but…" She sighed. "I think I need help." She admitted.
"I'll find you." Raph clipped and then she heard a dial tone. Well…at least he was coming. She smiled to herself and took in the night sky. Enjoying the view since she didn't really have a choice.
O'Rourke made her way out of the military building relieved at how things had gone. She had expected to be detained indefinitely. It felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She hadn't realized how heavy a burden it had been for her to carry her disobedience to the army. The army had done much for her. It had given her strength in anonymity. She was just another face in the crowd of lowly private officers. But she had been used to insults being hurled at her, so she didn't bat an eyelash when her drill sergeant berated her and drove her body to jello through all the exercise and torment of training. But she survived it and succeeded in winning the sergeant's respect, which gave her even more strength and the desire to persevere. So ignoring the call to report had dug into her heart and shamed her. She knew the only reason she was still alive today and free as of this moment, was because of the army. So when she had made the call to Colonel Skinetti and informed him where he could find her, she found the guilt lifted and she was ready to accept whatever the military deemed necessary as her punishment. The fact that it had freed her only put her more in its debt.
She reveled a moment in the liberation she felt before another guilt settled firmly in her gut. She sighed. She knew she had caused her friends, for she realized she could call them friends now, worry. Mikey had texted her several times and she was reading through them now as the taxi drove her back to the hospital. Each more frantic than the last and punctuated with question marks and exclamation points. There were also several missed calls. She didn't listen to the messages and did not call him now. She knew he would distract her from her obligations that she still had to fulfill.
The cabbie got her wheelchair from the trunk and set it next to the open car door. O'Rourke maneuvered herself into it without assistance, paid the cabbie and rolled herself up to Ms. Grey's room. The officers greeted her and allowed her into the room without a word needing to be spoken. O'Rourke knew, then, that Ms. Grey had finished her business with the Detective for the moment.
It was well past dark, but Sandra was still awake and staring out the window. O'Rourke watched her for a moment before she closed the door behind her. Sandra finally looked over and seemed surprised to see O'Rourke.
"Ms. Grey?" O'Rourke asked as she wheeled closer.
"O'Rourke." Sandra greeted. Upon closer inspection, O'Rourke could tell that Ms. Grey had been crying, but had been stopped for a while now. "How are you?" She asked. "I saw them drag you…" She couldn't finish.
"A few bruises can't slow me down, Ms. Grey." O'Rourke smiled. She touched her own bandaged head. "And a bump on the head is nothing to me anymore." She let her hand fall back down to her lap. "How are you?" She returned. "You remember me being dragged?" Sandra nodded silently.
"I remember everything. But I thought it would be easier if the police believed otherwise."
"A wise decision. I'm glad to know that you're all right, sir."
"Sir? Distanced already?" Sandra asked sadly.
"Sorry, old habits, Sandra. We are…friends. I finally believe that."
"I haven't been a very good friend. I'm a poor definition of the word. Our green acquaintances have earned it more than I have."
"Have you heard from them?"
"No. But Lyde was just here."
"What?"
"She went out the window not that long ago." O'Rourke wheeled over to the window and looked out, but saw nothing. O'Rourke pulled back in and pursed her lips. "She said she would have Raph come get her." O'Rourke nodded stiffly.
"What was she doing in here? How did she get past the police? Did they interrogate her?"
"She said you had to leave and so she came to watch over me. She slipped in when the police abandoned the door for a minute, but had to get out the window when the officers came to do their routine room search."
"Foolish!" O'Rourke whisper shouted. "If they had seen her…"
"They wouldn't have known her. She is…changed. She changed her hair and her clothes to come here. They wouldn't have recognized her." O'Rourke was shaking her head.
"But if they saw her and linked her at all with you they would have investigated her and found out all too easy. I thought she had more sense than that!" O'Rourke sighed heavily again. "I never should have left until dark."
"Why did you?"
"I had a loose end I needed to tie up."
"What loose end?"
"The army debriefing."
"Oh! They'll want Lyde, too!"
"No. I saw the records lying on the Colonel's desk. Lyde has been crossed off the list. It seems Lance had a story. I'm guessing they worked it out together when they met. Anyway, the military is not looking for her. But if the police happened to see her…" O'Rourke pinched her nose. "And she's on the roof."
"Raph will get her. She'll be fine." Sandra comforted. O'Rourke nodded.
"And you? How are you?" O'Rourke asked. Tears filled Sandra's eyes and she repeated to O'Rourke the same sentiments she had revealed to Lyde. O'Rourke responded the same, trying to dissuade her from harming herself or taking the blame.
"Ms. Grey, Sandra, I know why you did it. It's the same reason you hired me. You thought Don was like him. I understand, Sandra. In your own way, you were trying to protect us."
"But I was so wrong." Sandra argued.
"Stockman was just waiting for someone to slip up. It could have been any one of us."
"But it was me."
"This was a group effort, Sandra. We all made mistakes and allowed this to happen. But Stockman is the one to blame and he is no longer a problem."
"Don had to kill him because of me."
"I think it was his pleasure, Sandra. All the guys were ready to take him out. I wasn't far behind in line, let me tell you. Psycho twist deserved what he got." Sandra was quiet for a long while and O'Rourke didn't know what else to say. Sandra just shot everything down.
"I told T'mana I would assist with the arrangements for her mother." O'Rourke spoke very softly as if afraid to hurt Sandra's ears. "She would like her mother cremated with a very simple urn. She plans to spread the ashes in the Black Hills where her mother came from."
"Of course. I will hand over the rights to you. T'mana legally gave them to me, but I don't know that I'll be discharged in time to assist myself."
"I can take care of it. The sooner, the better." Sandra made a phone call right there. She had the policeman be witness to notorize the signature of passing power to O'Rourke in the matter of Mrs. Callahan's remains.
"I will, of course, be covering the cost." Sandra continued to O'Rourke. "Bring me the invoice and I shall have it paid for."
"I'll bring it to you." O'Rourke agreed. O'Rourke wheeled herself out and one of the police officers got her in touch with the Detective so she could make the arrangements around the investigation. The Detective informed her they could release the body in two days. O'Rourke took another taxi to a funeral home nearby and made the arrangements. She had all the paperwork: Sandra's written approval and a fax from the police regarding the investigation. O'Rourke informed them there would be no viewing or memorial as Mrs. Callahan's only living relation was missing, but that she would keep the remains safe if her daughter ever returned.
Once that was completed, she felt completely drained. For so long she had been running on her duty: informing the police, checking on Sandra, reporting to the military, handling funeral arrangements. Now there was nothing and her sorrow nearly crushed her when she allowed herself to comprehend that someone she knew and cared about was dead. That she had almost died and was now crippled for life. She kept herself strong and gave herself one more mission: get to the lair. She did not take a taxi, she wheeled herself through the city, feeling the breeze as she moved and smelling the air. It made her feel alive and not numb, so she relished the burn in her arms and the sweat on her brow. She finally got to the sewer cover that they normally took and she took out her phone, dialing him immediately.
"D!" Mikey shouted. O'Rourke had to pull the phone from her ear at the sudden burst of sound. When she put it back Mikey was in the middle of a rant. "…happened? What were you thinking? Was it the army? Was it the Foot? Talk to me, D!"
"Mikey." O'Rourke mewled sadly. She had said nothing, but Mikey heard everything all at once with that one word.
"Where are you? D, tell me where you are." His voice was much softer, but still very urgent.
"At the manhole. I'm in the alley. I'm fine. Everything's fine."
"Don't move, D. I'll be right there."
"Okay." Now that she was still, she was cooling from the lack of exertion. The sweat on her body began to chill her and make her shiver in the night. She rubbed her arms and kept watch. Making sure no one saw her. Mikey seemed to take forever. She wanted to see him, but was also afraid. She could feel her sadness beginning to overwhelm her and she desperately wanted privacy for it. But she knew it would be some time before she would have it. There wasn't time to unleash it now. She set a new mission to hold it in until she slept. She closed her eyes and felt the numbness calm her nerves and slow her heartbeat. When she opened them again, she was O'Rourke the soldier and ready for the journey to the lair.
