WHO WAS THE BIGGER DICK?

Pryce had once given me the 'tour' of Gilead. Told me I had to start at the bottom, learn how things worked. Pryce would sprinkle his reactions to my observations with, "We're going to clean up Gilead, son." He'd wanted me to work in the mailroom to see for myself what needed cleaning. But never this place.

Pryce had never assigned me to a prison. Certainly not this prison. Too bad. Not half a kilometer from here were my guys, the men I'd be happy to go to war with. Even if I could have got a message to my sergeant, they'd have to fight their way in blind. That's a bad way to wage war.

Sort of like the mess they'd embroiled us in, in Chicago!

They'd taken my belt, shoelaces and watch. So it was I'd not known the precise time they'd brought in the bucket of water and towels, placed them on the table. Then left. Without comment. Not that one was needed.

If it came to having a towel over my face doused with water, would I crap my pants? Otherwise I would obey Rita's voice then on a loop in my brain, 'keep your shit together'. I just didn't need the embarrassment of crapping.

If Putnam had been toppled, then it was already all over.

Where's June? Was she even alive? They'll keep her that way as long as she doesn't disclose where the other handmaids were. On the trip here, it was the opposite. Just hours ago, I was in a position to keep her alive. Pryce should have assigned me to a prison. This place messes with you. Unfamiliar terrain is the bane of a field commander's existence.

Should I have traded me for her? From the viewpoint of where I am currently writing, obviously no. In the prison, though? Beth, she was done like dinner. Beth would have known it. So too Sienna, someone I'd never met.

And then there was Lawrence. Apparently, he was here, too. Who was the bigger dick, him or Stans.

I eventually found out.

NOT WITH THE JEWELRY ON

My first act of rebellion? It was communication. It was language. They weren't going to speak to me using words, so I was going to make them speak with actions. Like a kid testing the limitations of his or her world.

"I'm not wearing those," was what I said to the prison Guardian. He looked a little surprised. He knew I was a Colonel, he knew he was a grunt. He'd come in, asked me to stand, which I did. He asked me to show him my hands, wrists up.

Which I didn't, because he had handcuffs at the ready. I said, "Bring in about six more of your friends, because I'm not wearing those. Take me where you're taking me, but I'm not wearing those."

The voice out in the hall was Lieutenant Stans's. "Forget the cuffs, just bring him. No need for histrionics."

Which boded well on a number of counts. The main one was that when they opened another interviewing room door and guided me in, Commander Lawrence had not been aware of the authority by which I was entering - or the lack of same.

The door shut behind me, and I stood with a faux-air of authority. "So, Blaine," he said, "you remember our agreement. I help you, and you keep me alive?" I told him that that had never left the forefront of my brain. Surveying Lawrence's room, it was as spartan as the one I'd just come from. Two chairs. One bare table.

"Have you met the lieutenant? What am I saying, of course you have." Lawrence paused then added, "it's nice to see someone who really enjoys their work."

I asked Lawrence what he and Stans had talked about, a question that caused him pause. He said, "You mean you two aren't in this together? For pete's sake, Nick, you delivered your girlfriend to the prison, and you don't know what's going on? That's hard to believe. You're slipping, dude, you're slipping."

I stood there saying nothing. There still was no reason for me to tip my hand, not to Lawrence. So he filled the air with his own verbiage. "Me, I'm hosting a dinner. Stans has discovered a use for me. I'm to convince June to give up the other handmaids. In exchange for her daughter." That one caused a chill, until Lawrence explained, "Don't ask me how, but the bastards have Agnes MacKenzie on her way. All the way from Denver. Tabitha MacKenzie is probably going nuts. Commander MacKenzie has something to do with the Air Academy in Colorado Springs. If they find out where their daughter is, expect an air raid."

WELL, SNAP, THAT REALLY WAS HIS NAME

LS: Hey Blaine, in here. -Blaine went past the clerk in the prison office, into Stans inner office, Stans sat beside a body bag, with a body in it- My apologies, Commander, I have no place for you to sit. I don't work in here often.

NB: Ya, I saw. -pause- You know what I just figured out? Your name. It really is 'Lieutenant'. I thought it was a rank.

LS: I've lived with that my whole life. School was horrible. -pause- And you, Commander Blaine, there's you. All you needed to say was who you were. You know, the secret handshake. You should have said we were speaking Eye to Eye, the two of us.

NB: There is no secret handshake, Lieutenant Stans.

LS: Not even your High Commander knows. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. -Stans pats the body bag- Not even this lady knew. She was convinced you were resistance. Mayday. Hell, that's not something Putnam would have said, either, that you were an undercover Eye of God. -pause- A good one at that. Beth, here, thought you were genuine. Oh well. Her bad. Military, Eye, Commander, you do a little of everything. -pause- You want to take a peek inside? She's a mess. She fell ten floors.

NB: No, I'm good.

LS: What now, Blaine? Back to the New Gilead Chancery, I suppose. No hard feelings?

NB: You really are a prick, Stans. You know that don't you.

LS: I know, I know. I put it down to all the bullying in school. I often wonder why I never championed the underdog; like this lady. Oh well. Me, I like the orchestrations of what I do. She was part of a middle stanza. Part of a successful and intricate symphony. No matter, she's dog meat now. I wonder if she thought her work had all been worth it?

NB: Goodbye Lieutenant Stans. I'm sure we'll run into each other again. I'm going to see to it.

MAGDALENE COLONIES

"All the rotten eggs in one basket," was how Putnam had put it.

It was my crew who handled the transfer of June Osborne, from the custody of the prison, into Aunt Lydia's care. To bring you up to speed, eventually Putnam had convinced Stans that I had to be let go. The call from the Eyes of God headquarters also helped. A lot. Besides, unbeknownst to me, while I was locked up my sergeant had had a 'frank exchange of views' with prison security at the front gate. 'An exchange of pleasantries', as my guy had put it. Real guy stuff.

Afterwards I told the sergeant that he was a regular diplomat. His response? "There's no need to be rude. Your command doesn't give you the right to be a dick. I saved your ass, and you're calling me names!"

Me, I refused to sign the release documents. I also said I wasn't going unless Lawrence came, too. That he be sent back to his home in Boston. Also, as above, my guys would handle the transfer of Osborne to Lydia's care, on her way to the Magdalene Colonies.

My sergeant witnessed a rather unorthodox hand off, on that bridge, me with June. Better my sergeant than anyone from the prison. June and I had not kissed like that since D.C. I also needed to apologize for the handling of Hannah. Truly, it was the only way to keep everyone alive.

I confessed to June how angry I was with her. I said, "people have put their lives on the line for you, to get you out. Look where you are. Why, June, why?"

June's eyes welled up, "I love you, Nick, I really do. You have no idea. But I can't 'get out', without Hannah. I can't face Luke if I don't bring her. Luke will hate me for failing. Luke's hatred would kill me. I love Luke and couldn't live with his hate." We looked into each other's eyes, and I could not make out what I was seeing. June made no sense.

I had no idea when we'd see each other again.

Then I headed back to Boston myself. Putnam had, indeed, appointed me Commander, as well as on the Executive Committee in Chancery. I was to be New Gilead's chief military advisor. The first day in my new office, Lieutenant Stans had sent roses.

Proof that Commanders cared little about children? Lawrence, too, was reappointed with only symbolic complaint. He, too, was appointed to the Chancery Executive - the chief economic advisor, especially in bringing the new Magdeline Colonies on-line. Those places competed with Jezebels, except once a month the Commanders and their wives would have a weekend with a handmaid at a luxury resort. 'Luxury' for the Commanders.

BLAME CANADA

How, I am still figuring out. I'd rounded up two of the principle Mayday-Marthas to ask "how", thinking I'd get a better answer by instructing the Guardians not to handcuff them. I got only a little little info as a result.

How had June Osborne made it to Canada. Canadian media trumpeted the triumphal entry of the architect of 'Angels Flight' as they put it. Luke Bankole had asked for privacy as his family, meaning he June and Nichole, to rebuild their lives. 'Re'-build? Nichole wasn't his.

No one in Chancery noticed when I abstained from putting a price on June Osborne's head. The official minutes merely noted that the motion had been unanimous.

Me, I got back to work. High Commander Putnam was now my mentor in Chancery. Lawrence asked for, and received, the 'Waterford File'. He was now managing those two, in an ICC prison in Toronto.

Me, I married****. This one I can't blame on Canada. Blame one of Gilead's doctors. My buddy Kieran Reilly, his teenage daughter, Kathryn, was raped by a doctor. Impregnated. He begged me to marry her, claim the baby as my own. Kathryn was only seven-months older than June's daughter, Hannah.

June now knows Luke's reaction to her showing up in Canada without Hannah. She was sure he'd hate her for 'getting out' empty handed.

Me? I now fear that June will hate me. Will she believe the story, that I'd never touched Kathryn, only seven months older than hers?

Then, all of a sudden, a telephone call from a man named Tuello. The American I'd met in Toronto during Waterford's diplomatic junket. The guy who'd offered Serena Joy 'treason and coconuts'. It was not a secure line, so I didn't dare ask him about June. But he was wondering if some sort of 'trade' could be arranged. Said that June Osborne was agitating in Toronto for an exchange which would include Hannah.

My real fear? That the hypothesis regarding June's hatred - hatred against me - would get tested.

Tuello, ever the diplomat trying to move things forward, suggested that June and I meet - in the disputed area…. and she would bring Nichole. If I would bring all the info I could on Hannah from Colorado Springs.

It was nerve wracking. I blame Canada. Me, June, and Nichole should be living a small-town, western -Canadian life right now. Instead, I was about to take ownership, Gilead-style, of Kathryn's baby. Legally.

Beth is no more, so I cannot get a truck. Rita, she's in Canada. So she can't chide me to keep my shit together. Pryce is gone - Gilead will not be cleaned up.

There're decisions to be made.

**** Shamelessly stolen from Arallute's fanfiction, "The Trade", Chapter 8, "I Sought Him Whom My Soul Loves."