"What happened today?" Melissa asked as we ate dinner.

I explained our visit with Dr. Earley and Dad followed by our introduction to Steve Rude and my "appointment" with him tomorrow morning.

"Can they be trusted?"

I asked, "If you're referring to Steve himself, I think so. If you're referring to Dr. Earley, Dad, and Steve as a group, the jury is still out."

Melissa buried her face in her hands and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry honey," she said with a heavy sigh. "This is getting a bit too much too soon. I mean, you're probably used to this…"

I put my hand on her wrist, saying, "No, sweetheart, hardly: this is different. This… I don't know what the fuck this is, to be honest, but I hate it."

Melissa gave a small nod and wiped her eyes. She looked over to Jessie who was quietly eating and asked, "How are you handling it?"

Jessie stopped and put her fork down.

She shook her head: "I… I don't know. In the Middle East, you worry about things like IEDs, surprise ambushes, and suicide bombers. You can't even trust the local police because the insurgents have them infiltrated as well. It's a foreign place and you don't know anybody or anything except your teammates and what little familiarity you gain from patrolling the area. Here we are in our own country, with people we know and, supposedly, trust, being told that everything is one big façade. I know most things aren't what they seem but, Jesus… you don't think about it until you're in over your head."

Jessie looked over at me.

"Which is what we're supposed to be accustomed to," she finished.

"I guess you're right," I said softly.

We finished supper in silence. Melissa joined Jessie in reading the rest of the book while I loaded the dishwasher before going out onto the back porch to have a cigarette. The night was clear and starry; any other time it would've been great to listen to Melissa picking her guitar and sing soft melodic hymns that helped ease my mind. The back porch was a simple concrete slab with some patio furniture and a hanging glider swing that I had built the summer before. I took a seat in the swing and began to sway slowly as I lit up my cancer stick.

Something was bugging me.

I heard myself whisper, "Daniel Mullinax…"

Jessie had, in my dreams at least, suggested that I look up his profile which implied he had a criminal record. I walked back into the kitchen and into the living room to retrieve my laptop computer. I returned to the outside swing and connected to the secure online law enforcement portal. After wading through various entries I finally came upon the correct record for one Daniel Isaiah Mullinax. He had been arrested previously for soliciting.

The second party of the arrest was Pamela Hoyle.

The third and final arrestee was Garry Barber.

I snuffed out what little was left of my cigarette and rubbed my eyes. I didn't want to see who the arresting officer was but curiosity got the better of me.

"Dear God, no…"

The arresting officer was Detective H. Wade Carpenter.

The area where they were caught was a now-defunct Motel 6 located on the outskirts of the county heading towards Canada. There were no notes on file except for one mentioning an ongoing prostitution sting that was initiated after whistleblowers noticed an uptick in illicit activity. I forwarded the case number to my e-mail address. The physical file would contain the docket number as well as any other reports and interviews conducted.

"I… I hope I'm not disturbing you."

Startled, I shoved the laptop off to the side and leapt to my feet. With gun drawn, I pointed it directly to a slender silhouette on the other end of the porch. Without hesitation, I ordered the shadowy figure to slowly step into the light that was spilling through the window of the backdoor. The soft sound of women's tennis shoes scraping against the concrete pad filled the air as the visitor slowly advanced forward. I lowered my gun a little in bewilderment.

In utter shock, I called to her, "Julia?"

Julia Horacek, once a devoted subordinate of Jeremiah Surd, looked at me with bloodshot green eyes and a weathered posture. Seeing her in a blood-stained Hard Rock Café shirt and torn blue jeans was a far cry from the upper class killing machine that she strived to be. Dyed auburn hair that shimmered with sweat flowed past her shoulders. I kept my firearm pointed at her for a few seconds more before slowly returning it to my holster.

If she was a threat, it wasn't to me.

"May I sit down?" she asked, reaching across her stomach to hold onto her other arm. "I'm… I'm really tired."

I motioned over towards the glass patio table. I pulled out the frail woman's chair, allowing her to slowly ease into it.

With a sad smile, she said, "Are you always this polite to your enemies?"

"Call it giving you the benefit of the doubt," I replied as I sat down. "I received a phone call that your partner in crime has been successfully picked up. If that's what you're here for, you're barking up the wrong tree."

"Lorenzo's still alive? Thank God," Julia said with a heavy sigh of relief. "I thought they would've got to him by now for sure."

"I imagine 'they' refers to the same assholes that are essentially making this whole planet a goddamn stage play, correct?"

"Then you know?"

I took out another smoke and said, "Kind of hard to keep that a secret when you're the main star."

I offered Julia a cigarette who took it eagerly. After we both had an initial puff or two, I asked, "Why are you here, anyway, Julia?"

"Lorenzo called me two days ago," she said. "Well, let me back up: I've been underground for the past five years. The department has been after me ever since the Mullinax incident."

"Is that what they're called: The Department?"

"Each branch is segregated into different specialties called departments. Each department gets assigned a generic number to help ensure at least some level of secrecy and ambiguity. The department that's after me is one of the core groups responsible for the overall health of the entire operation."

She looked towards the kitchen.

"I hate to be a bother, but… do you have anything to eat? All I've had today was a cheese sandwich from the shelter."

"Yeah, come on, there should be some meatloaf left," I said.

We finished our cigarettes, tossing the butts into the grass. I opened the door and allowed Julia to go first.

"Always a gentleman," she said, turning to me. "I would expect nothing less from the great Jonny Quest."

I shut the door and locked it behind me.

"I would hope you would expect nothing less from your average male," I said in reply. "And I'm anything but great. Make yourself at home over there at the kitchen table. I'll heat you up a plate."

Julia sat across from where Jessie once occupied and looked all around the room in awe. I could hear Melissa coming down the hallway.

She started to ask, "Honey, is there…?"

Upon seeing Julia, she froze in her tracks like a deer in headlights.

"Oh, hello," she said nervously. "I, I'm sorry… I just…"

"It's okay, dear," I explained. "This is just one of my former adversaries."

Melissa's eyes grew wider.

Julia smiled uneasily as she stood and extended her hand, saying "Hello… I'm Julia Horacek."

Melissa gingerly shook Julia's hand.

"Julia, this is my fiancé: Melissa Jenkins," I said.

I picked up a second set of footsteps coming down the hall. The first blaring thought was "OH SHIT" screaming over and over again. I quickly slid the plate into the microwave before making a beeline for the dining room. Jessie had taken two steps past the hallway's threshold before setting her eyes on Julia and switching into kill mode.

"You!" she screamed before trying to tear towards the woman. I immediately stepped in and wrapped both arms under Jessie's and clasped my wrists behind her neck in a sleeper move that was often used on belligerent suspects resisting arrest. Julia backed away from the table as Melissa stood there in shock as I dragged one hundred and thirty-five pounds of muscle and adrenaline back towards the hallway.

Jessie continued to shout, "Let me go, dammit!"

Julia lowered her gaze to the table as Melissa stepped over to her. I pulled Jessie out of sight into my office and shut the door with my foot before letting the fiery redhead go. Jessie immediately set her sights on me.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Jonny?!" she yelled. "Do you know who the hell that is in there?!"

"Jessie, I am perfectly aware of who that is," I said calmly. "Fact of the matter is: she showed up outside while I was doing some research and she has some information about what's going on. She's a vagrant woman who I could easily beat down with a nightstick or, better yet, blow her away."

"I prefer that option the most, to be honest."

"I'm sure you do. However, given the circumstances that we are in right now, I'm willing to lend an ear to anyone that might have some useful information. That being said, I am going to exercise this opportunity in order to gain some insight. Afterwards, you can do fuck-all to her for what I care. Is that reasonable?"

Jessie crossed her arms and looked away. I could tell she was mulling it over.

Finally, begrudgingly, she muttered, "Yeah, I guess it is…"

"Look," I said. "You don't have to be in there."

"But I want to."

"Okay, but we play by my rules: no intimidation, no threats of violence, and no torture. I know you want to waterboard her until there's no water left in the Atlantic, but at the moment, she is useful to me. Agreed?"

She gave a firm nod. After grabbing a legal pad and pen, I opened the door and we reentered the dining room. Melissa had retrieved Julia's dinner from the microwave and was quietly conversing with her. Both women looked up in hesitant anticipation. I walked around the table and took a seat across from Julia as Jessie occupied the only chair that was left.

I dropped my pad and pen onto the table.

"Okay, Julia," I said. "Let's start with why Lorenzo called you…"