DON'T DO ME ANY FAVOURS, OK?

JL: Hey, Blaine, thanks for letting yourself in. Have a seat beside the fire. Scotch is in the usual place, on the side table. I don't have ice.

NB: Not a problem, Joseph. Would you like one? -Lawrence held up his full glass- I guess not.

JL: So, Nick, was it your idea? Sticking me with the Waterford file? Make a note - don't do me any more favours, ok?

NB: C'mon Joseph, it puts you at the centre of things. What's the matter, your Eye-buddy been silent recently?

JL: Don't even joke about that. -pause for a sip- You know, Nick, we're all trying to clean up Gilead. All of us. Ok, all except the skimmers. I found out the other day that it had been you who'd turned Guthrie into Pryce. All that money earmarked for transportation, and Guthrie was skimming.

NB: That was a long time ago, Joseph.

JL: Not so long ago. My Eye-guy says that you people have a list, a long one. But they can't arrest everyone. He says it's you, Nick, you're the one preventing a big clean-up. He says it's you preventing me from being 'interviewed' again, as he put it. You've got a foot in a lot of tents, my friend.

NB: Not nearly enough.

JL: But here's the deal, Nick. You're trying to clean it up. Me, I'm trying to clean it up. I've still got Eleanor's voice nagging at me. I'm told that even Aunt Lydia is getting tired of Commanders abusing her girls. -pause- What's keeping me busy these days are the Waterfords. That Tuello guy in Toronto. -pause- Hey, if you want a top up, it's self-serve. -pause- I miss Beth. Even Sienna. Beth was smart, Sienna was just annoying. Neither deserved it.

NB: -long pause- I'm not sure what you want to hear. You do know, don't you, that Lieutenant Stans is actually a Major. 'Lieutenant' is his name. Major Lieutenant Stans.

JL: No shit.

NB: As far as I'm concerned, he'll be pensioned off soon.

JL: Not soon enough. -pause- Say, it's not to do with June, is it?

NB: June. Beth. Beth was one of my oldest friends in Gilead. Don't get excited, just a friend, but a good one. -pause- Stans broke her, Joseph. Do you know what you'd have to do to break Beth?

JL: -long pause- June made it out of there, Beth didn't. Now I'm pouring my own Scotch, making my own breakfasts. Bastard. -pause- You do know that you are encouraging her, Nick. She doesn't need encouragement. She'll be Prime Minister of Canada by next week, that girl.

NB: You met with her, you met with Tuello.

JL: Nothing gets past you.

NB: She's driven, Joseph. Thinks she has nothing to lose. She couldn't be more wrong.

JL: Ya. Truth. After our little soirée at the prison with Agnes, Tabitha MacKenzie is now the de facto Commander, out in Colorado Springs. We won't be getting birthday cards from her, or from the Commander.

NB: So, what's going to happen? With June and Tuello, I mean.

JL: I dunno. Freddo is scheduled to be off to the International Criminal Court, as long as the Canadian courts play ball. High Commander Putnam and his lovely Wife, Naomi, screwed the pooch on their visit. Warren told Fred that there actually was no plan to repatriate him, just gave him a box of Cubans. Naomi all but told Serena that she and her unborn would be welcome back in Boston - as a handmaid. -pause- With Freddo not shooting blanks, Nick, do you wonder about Nichole?

NB: Nichole is mine, Joseph.

JL: Ok, apologies. I didn't want to be a dick about it. My bad.

NB: Are you in the market for a handmaid, Joseph? Never mind. You were saying about Commander Waterford.

JL: You're right. We offered 22. That's what they're mulling over. There's nothing in Canada that we want - well, other than weapons and all 86 of those kids back.

NB: What does June want?

JL: June wants Fred's head on a spike. She wants Serena to give birth, then be deported. Sans baby, as they say in Canada.

NB: Is that what's going to happen?

JL: -laughs out loud- Asks the guy with a foot in Chancery, and another over at the Eyes of God. -final sip of Scotch- Now it's you being the dick, Nick. -Lawrence stands, offers Nick his coat- You should be off, Nick. I hear you, yourself, have a consult with Prime Minister Osborne. Say hello to her. -Blaine puts on his coat, Lawrence passes him a thick file- This is what you asked for. Pictures of the wee bairn and all. Do me a favour, don't ask again.

TAKING OFF THE RING

My sergeant, he looked after me. Just as I had looked after my lieutenant back in my first Chicago tour. "Looked after" included calling him a son-of-a-bitch a few times. "Looked after" included calling him stupid for yet another ill-advised tactical advance. "Looked after" meant that once my lieutenant had made up his mind, he and I were a unified force with the men. Of one mind. No space between us.

Except in Chicago, it had been my job to keep the lieutenant alive. To take the bullet, or the RPG headed his way. As sergeant that was my job, even if I'd told his dumb ass he'd be killed. Clearly, I had failed my lieutenant.

This time, I was the dumb ass. My sergeant was not amused. But he could not go with me. The GPS was quite clear, the 45th Parallel was 100 feet ahead. The boarded up school was a quarter of a mile beyond that. I would meet June there.

My sergeant passed me Lawrence's binder. "No sense in going without this," was what he said.

When I reached out to take it, he would not let go. He just stared at my ungloved hand.

"Hey, dumbass," he said, decidedly not within earshot of the men a distance behind us. "Lose the ring."

My sergeant, he looked after me.

HE TOOK CARE OF ME

Me, I was a little pissed that no one actually did what they were told.

The disputed area below the 45th was still 100 feet ahead. But there they were in full kit. My guys. Headed north, with purpose.

Although they stood down seeing me. I went to the sergeant so that all could hear. "I ordered you to wait." To which he apologized, but also said that they'd had a vote. They'd voted to come get me. I said, "this is not a democracy, sergeant." He replied that if I'd been on time, I could have reminded them of that. In front of the men I docked him a day's pay. Like always, I'd quietly send it to his wife back in Detroit.

Once back south of the 45th, I said to him, "We have a quick turn around. Two nights from now, the Rock River Bridge. I need you guys there, I need you frosty. We may have to secure the south end of the bridge from Gilead regulars - Guardians. Some of them will be your buddies. I'm not expecting trouble. They'll be Boston, New Gilead Guardians. They'll be expecting to take possession of an asset crossing the bridge." I paused to emphasize the next part. "They won't be. We will be."

I couldn't emphasize this enough. "Boys, these will be New Gilead guys, and it will be a New Gilead asset. The Commander in situ will be Lawrence, and they will be his guys. As far as I know, Lawrence is with us. But if he turns out not to be, you may have to have an exchange of pleasantries with comrades." No one moved a muscle, not even the twitch of a cheek. "I'm ordering this, but I also need to know if you're ok with what could happen." My sergeant said that all the men were ok with it. I mean, what else was he going to say.

All of which went without a hitch. Twenty-two marthas streaming north. One lone man, in a black suit limping south. When they got Commander Waterford into the New Gilead van, I seconded it. Lawrence put up no resistance. Smart. Neither of us wanted to piss off the lady who'd be waiting.

We drove east as far as the tertiary road allowed. I then told my guys to stand down. I escorted Waterford into the dark forest until I saw the shadowy outline of a woman. I removed Waterford's cuffs and got set to walk back. Waterford got chippy. I turned back and smacked him.

I should have done that years ago. I should have done it that night when June had had to drink his Scotch, play Scrabble with him, and give him a blow-job. I wasn't proud of waiting all this time to smack the man. I'd failed June, more than once. But it felt good nonetheless.

I got back to the van, and the lone noise behind me was a referee's whistle.

My sergeant asked, "Everything good?" I told him it was, but that we needed to get back to the bridge - I had a satellite call to make. Two, actually.

My sergeant asked, "Shouldn't we wait in case The Commander needs retrieval?" I told him there wouldn't be any need.

REVERSE THE CHARGES

NB: Hey, Mark. Thanks for taking the call.

MT: You guys are real fuckers, you know that don't you.

NB: Look, Mark, you're the guy who'd been with Waterford on the north side, you'd been the one who'd shoved him south knowing what was coming.

MT: Not that, Blaine, not that.

NB: Look. It's done.

MT: Did you see the result?

NB: Didn't have to. I knew what was going to happen. Would have wasted my time. I'm calling as a courtesy.

MT: You fuckers. Let me tell you, Blaine. We're taking our country back. Me, I'll be at Atlanta Falcon home games, and you are going to be in prison.

NB: In the meantime, Mr. Tuello, let's keep lines open.

MT: I know, I know. You're worried about June. Don't worry. As long as dear Fred met his end south of the 45th, Canada has no jurisdiction. The USA has questionable jurisdiction, given Missisquoi and Sokoki sovereignty. We'll probably do nothing.

NB: I can promise you, New Gilead will make noise, but move on. Look, I have to go. Is there anything you want me to say to her, it's my next call.

MT: Tell her I send my condolences. I'll be seeing her myself, soon.

NO REVERSING THESE CHARGES

NB: Hello? It's for Serena Joy Waterford. Yes, from Gilead. Nick Blaine. Yes, on Agent Mark Tuello's say-so. Ok, I'll hold. Ah, er, wait, do you have a chaplain or anything at that place? The lady may need one.

-long wait-

SJW: Hello? Nick? Nick Blaine?

NB: Mrs Waterford, I have some news.

SJW: It's so good to hear a friendly voice! If you'd called earlier, Fred was here. He's on his way to The Hague. Giving testimony to the ICC.

NB: That's the news. Commander Waterford never made it to the airport, he was taken here. I'm at the Rock River Bridge. Just south of Canada. I wanted you to know.

SJW: You're lying. Why would you lie, Nick?

NB: Suit yourself, Mrs. Waterford. I just wanted to be the one who told you.

SJW: Look, if Fred is back in Gilead, it's you who had better worry.

NB: You made me do awful things, Mrs Waterford. But I don't blame you for it. You are you, you always will be. Me, I'm doing my best not to be you.

SJW: What are you on about, Nick? Where's Fred?

NB: June has him, Mrs Waterford. Offred has him. Ofjoseph and a posse of other handmaids took possession of him. I handed him over.

SJW: You did what?

NB: Last thing June asked of me, was to call you - wanted you kept in the loop. Asked me to tell you to check the mail. That a spare was on its way.

SJW: A spare? A spare what?

NB: Goodbye, Mrs Waterford. We're cleaning up Gilead. Oh yes, June asked to extend congratulations to you on the blessed event coming. Goodbye, Serena.