Chapter 35

It was as far as Russ was able to go (for now) and as far as Mark was willing to take him. But what an excellent, hope-filled sign! Whatever Kingsley had done to Russ had not been erased or lost in some bizarre 'blanking out' of his brain. It was possible that, now that the barrier to those memories had been broken, more of what had happened to him might surface spontaneously...but at the very least, the memories were still there. Once he had Russ occupied with a pen and notebook (telling him to write down whatever came to him, but only as long as he felt calm and unthreatened in doing so), Mark set off to find Michael and tell him the great news.

He found the young doctor in his office with his feet up and a mug of coffee in his hand. ''Got a minute?''

''Does it involve putting my feet on the floor and moving?'' Michael asked (only half joking).

''Not in the least.''

Michael smiled warmly. ''In that case, come on in and help yourself to coffee.''

''Awful lot on your plate in the last few days,'' Mark noted. So far that day, Michael had examined (and released) Oscar, dealt with two patients who had threatened to go Critical (almost simultaneously), made rounds of everyone on the Level 6 floor, met with Rudy's cardiologist, Steve's surgeon and Oscar and Jack Hansen...then made rounds again. (And those were just the tasks that Mark knew about!)

''Been used to that since medical school,'' Michael told him. ''Still, a clone or two would be nice right about now,''

''I sure know that feeling.'' They both chuckled. ''I also know you could use some good news...and I have some! Mark Russell's memory isn't blank; and I don't think you'll need pentothal either.'' He related for Michael just how he'd taken Russ into a state of self-hypnosis and appeared to have at least broken the surface on what was still locked inside of him (that they'd all feared was gone from his memory banks).

Michael knew that Oscar and Steve would be as happy and relieved as he was; it was another real break in the hunt for Kingsley. It just might move them one step closer to ending the nightmare...for everyone.

They kept Jaime asleep until the next morning, then it was time to let her wake up...and hope for the best while staying prepared for the worst. The sedation 'piggyback' drip had only been removed from her IV line for less than an hour when Jaime began to stir, either fighting her way back to consciousness...or trying to escape from it. Steve clasped her hand, gently tracing her palm with one finger to comfort her on 're-entry'. She blinked several times...and then managed a weak smile.

''Mornin','' Steve said, beaming at her to hopefully let her begin drawing strength from that.

''It's...morning already?''

''You were pretty tired,'' Mark answered. ''How do you feel now, after a good long rest?''

''I'm...not sure.'' Jaime seemed to still be taking stock of herself...her body, her emotions...and her memories. Then she felt everything rushing back to her all at once, slamming into her with the force of a giant leaded sledgehammer: His face, grinning down at her as he tormented her with that knife...his gleeful expression when his hurting Steve had finally evoked the reaction in her that he'd been waiting for. There were the things he'd said to her - some of which she hadn't given voice to or shared yet because they were simply too awful. And, of course, the horrific, terrifying trip up to the top of The Cobra coaster...

Jaime shivered and tears pearled in the corners of her eyes...but she gripped Steve's hand a little tighter and her expression (although frightened) was resolute. She looked directly into Steve's gaze first, drawing just enough courage there...and then turned her head to look at Mark. ''I guess...we have to talk...'' she began.

Nemesis walked the grounds - he considered them his grounds now - and plotted his next move. This place suited him like no other. Devastation and destruction that would sadden even the hardest heart made his soul sing with joy. The waves painted into the pavement were faded and disrupted by buckled sections of concrete and weeds that forced their way up through the cracks. He thought of himself as something like those weeds - out of place wherever he went, but there just the same, ready to destroy everything in his path as he grew stronger and even more persistently prominent.

He had (at least temporarily) lost control of Subject '01' and he wasn't certain about '02'...but he hadn't given up on either of them. And soon there would be more - so many more! He would wait a day or two, he decided, until the time felt exactly right and then return to National Medical, laying wait in the parking lot to begin zapping selected targets with his prototype (which he'd been working on strengthening) until he'd fashioned himself a sort of automated army. He would throw the entire Intelligence community into chaos with one extra-special added benefit - his 'old pal' Rudy (who was everything Nemesis was not: well-respected, successful and highly-placed in that damnable Intelligence community) would be at the center of it all.

Nemesis was content to wait for the perfect moment to strike hard and fast- just like the cobra they compared him to - and then slither away to destroy and annihilate again at will.