TITLE: "My First Watcher Assignment."
AUTHOR: Ellie Dee
E-MAIL: Ellie_Dee@hotmail.com
RATING: PG-R (Mostly for language and violence.)
SUMMARY: The title pretty much says it all.
SPOILERS: Anything up to and including the series finale, also I whole
heartedly believe in Clan Denial.
DISCLAIMER: Oh yeah, like I'd still be writing fanfic if I owned HL.
DISTRIBUTION: You want it, you got it. Just please keep my name on
it and be sure to let me know where it's wandered off to.
FEEDBACK: YES, PLEASE!!! This is my drug of choice and I am badly
in need of a fix!
My First Watcher Assignment.
By Ellie Dee.
CHAPTER I
16 October 1998
1014Hrs.
FIRST ENTRY:
Dear Journal,
It finally happened. This morning I was called into the Master's office
and it wasn't about that unfortunate incident in Weapons Class.
I swear I thought the pistol was unloaded.
Master Wilkins was very nice though he seemed very....serious? This was
the first time that I'd seen him since he was appointed Master....after
the Massacre.
Oh Goddess, we lost so much when that Bastard killed the Council.
I know that we're suppose to stay neutral when it comes to dealing with
Immortals, but I can't help it, I'm glad MacLeod killed him.
As I said, the Master seemed very serious or maybe distracted is a
better word. Anyway, he spoke well of my record at the Academy. And only
commented that when he was a student and we spent more time on edged
weapons things could be very nasty.
He cautioned me about exposing myself, warned me to never get too close
to my assignment and reminded me that our utmost duty is to the truth.
He then handed me my assignment folder, took my hand and said I would be
in his prayers.
It was nice to hear him say that, but it still gave me a funny feeling
in the pit of my stomach.
Standing in the hallway outside his office I opened the file. Glancing
at the first few lines I could see that my assignment was an Immortal
named Marie Dumont, that she was almost 700 years old. And that we were
both booked on the 1730Hrs. Air France flight to the States.
I have to hurry and pack, I'll go over Marie's record on the flight. So
here I will close.
In the name of truth,
Renee' Green
Watcher (probationary)
Field Operations.
*****
Either someone up there doesn't like me or someone in the Academy Admin.
Office has a real strange sense of humor.
After leaving Master Wilkins office I returned to my room in the dorm.
There I found the first two of Marie's Watcher Journals. I stored them
in my carry on bag with her folder and began packing. Just as I was
finishing up, Michael Hicks; one of the lower classmen, came by to let
me know my taxi was here.
During the ride to Charles de Gaulle Airport I opened Marie's folder. My
first thought was, Damn it, someone put the wrong photo in the file! But
as I continued to read I discovered that while Marie was nearly 700, she
first died before she was 16.
My second thought was, I'm going to be the Watcher for someone who
couldn't even get into an "R" rated movie on her own.
Why me?
I continued reading her file during the remainder of the drive. Marie
was found by Yvette Dumont; a prostitute from Lyon, France, on or about
3 January 1304. They appear to have lived at the Red Ox Tavern where
Yvette worked. At the age of 12 Marie was orphaned and spent the next
three years working as a whore.
Marie first died on 7 March 1319 during a fight with her pimp. He had
accused her of cheating him and so proceeded to beat and rape her. While
he finished relieving himself, he strangled her until she died. As he
tried to decide what to do with the body, Marie revived. This resulted
in her being chased from Lyon by a mob yelling that she was a witch.
After leaving Lyon she wandered through much of Europe. It is unclear
who her first teacher was, but they must have met up soon after her
First Death. Since then she has made a living for herself at various
times as a thief, musician, slave, witch and a whore, just to name a
few.
Pausing, I look at her photo again. Small and slender, her black hair
is short and straight in a pageboy cut. She has a friendly open face
highlighted by soft brown eyes. The look they give is both warm and
intelligent.
I wonder if I'll ever get used to a 700 year old woman who looks like
a middle school cheerleader.
Before I could get any further we were at the airport. After checking
in I made my way to the boarding lounge, where I worked on my lap top
till my flight was called.
Boarding the plane I found my seat by the window, stowed my bag under
the seat in front of me and started to read Marie's first journal.
After a few minutes I heard someone say, "Excuse me." When I looked up
a young woman was holding out her hand for me to shake and said, "Looks
like we're going to be seat mates, my name is Marie. Marie Dumont."
Somebody must really hate me.
"Renee' Green," I replied taking her hand and shaking it automatically.
"Hello Renee', I get the feeling we're going to have a very pleasant
trip."
As we shake hands she happens to notice the Watcher Trefoil on my
wrist. "Oh what a lovely tattoo, it looks tribal. Are you Amerind?"
I may be one quarter Cherokee, but I look about as Indian as Winona
Ryder. "No, back in college some friends got me drunk one night and
took me to a tattoo parlor. Looks kind of silly doesn't it?"
"Oh no! I think it has an ancient mystical look," she replied.
While she was putting away her things, I hid any Watcher material in
my carry on bag.
"That's interesting, this book has a copy of your tattoo on the cover."
"What?" I cried out as I popped up bumping my head on the seat in front
of me. "Ow!" Damn that hurt.
"Are you alright Renee'?" she asked.
"I'm fine," I replied as I took the book from her. "This was where my
friends got the design from. It's one of my favorite books and I'd
really hate to loose it."
Well, I tell myself, a bad lie is better than nothing. Besides, at
least she didn't open it. As I'm putting the book away I realize that
the only things I brought to read were her folder and the journals.
None of which I can read while I'm around her.
This is going to be a really long flight.
*****
I suffered through the drinks, dinner and a french police drama that
made more sense if you watched and didn't listen. Actually dinner had
its high points; such as Marie trying to explain to the flight attendant
that, yes she really was old enough to drink wine.
When the lights started to go out Marie was still awake. I asked the
flight attendant if there was anything to read, she said all they had
were a month old copy of The Economist and some french fashion
magazines.
I didn't think my heart could handle all that excitement.
Well there's always the lap top. I got out my powerbook and spent the
next few hours writing letters to my brother and sister, mom and a
friend of mine from the academy, Mike Hicks.
With my letters done I realized that I was still wide awake. More than a
few of my closer boyfriends have commented on my not being able to go to
sleep without reading.
As I'm about to ask the attendant for the copy of The Economist, Marie
asked me if, since neither of us could sleep, would I mind playing a few
hands of cards?
"I'll get my deck," I say with relief in my voice. Retrieving my cards
from a pocket on my carry on bag. I ask, "Gin Rummy?"
"Certainly, shall we say a penny a point?"
"Fine," if I can't sleep or read then I'll take this immortal pigeon to
the cleaners.
*****
Two hours later I was out $30 and about ready to drop. I hadn't been
beaten this badly since I was in high school.
"Marie I hate to give up but I'm about ready to die."
"That's alright Renee', I'm getting rather tired myself"
As I put away the cards Marie got down some pillows and blankets. Just
before I fell off to sleep I heard Marie say, "Good night Renee'."
"'night," I mumbled back.
*****
While our plane taxied to the terminal at Seacouver, Marie and I
collected our things. I felt about as human as one can after less than
three hours sleep. But washing my face, brushing my hair and putting on
fresh lip stick helped some.
After Immigration we made our way to the exit in search of cabs. While
waiting I handed Marie a ten and a twenty.
"Here, this should cover what I owe you," I said with a slight grimace.
"I couldn't take it," Marie says shaking her head, "after all, I was
cheating."
"Oh I knew that, I just couldn't figure out how you were doing it. Think
you might consider showing me?"
She gave me mischievous grin, making her look even younger and
agrees. From her vest pocket she took a business card, on it she
wrote the address and phone number to her apartment here in Seacouver.
Along with the card Marie hands me the money, "You can use this to pay
for the drinks next time we get together." She then climbed into her
cab and sped off.
I took the next cab, telling the driver the address of the club my
uncle plays at. The ride was fairly short and the driver dropped me
at this nondescript building with a neon sign outside the read
simply, "Joe's."
Going inside, I set my bags down at the bar and ordered a glass of
wine. taking a long slow sip I turned to the music, I noticed the
guitarist sitting on a stool up on stage.
Late 40's, rugged and fit, black gray hair and beard trimmed short.
Doing a rather impressive run on his Fender Strat. Soon, his song
over, he takes his cane and limping slightly, makes his way off
stage. Heading towards the bar he saw me and stopped dead.
"Renee'? I didn't expect to see you so soon."
"Come on Uncle Joe, give us a hug." I reply smiling.
He steps forward, leaning his cane against the bar and engulfs me in a
giant bear hug.
"Ah Hon, it's been so long since I've seen ya. What are you doing here?"
"It happened Joe," I said excitedly, smiling up at him. "My assignment
came in, they've given me an Immortal!"
He looked at me somewhat strangely, "You mean you're part of a team?"
"No, I was assigned as the Primary to an Immortal. Why?"
He paused for several seconds, then shaking his head he continued, "Well
Hon, it's just thats kind of unusual. Normally to be a Primary you need
to have at least a few years experience. Probationary Watchers are always
assigned to work a team for at least a year under a seasoned Watcher.
I've never heard of a Probationary Watcher being made a Primary."
"Besides, whenever a new Watcher is assigned to your area the Academy
will always give you the heads up."
Bending down I retrieved Marie's folder from my bag and handed it to Joe.
When he had finished reading it Joe simply shook his head.
"I've never seen them do things this way before, but everything looks
official. I don't know, maybe they just made some changes in their
procedures recently."
Returning the folder to my bag, Joe lead the way over to an empty booth.
Along the way I let him carry one of my bags so he could feel macho. Once
we had my bags out of the way we got ourselves settled.
"So, you're gonna be Marie Dumont's new Watcher, huh?" He began. "Have
you had a chance to study up on her?"
"Not really," I said with a sigh. "They only gave me my assignment yester-
day morning. Wait a minute, I mean this morning. Shoot, they had me running
around so much I barely even had time to pack."
I was reluctant to mention that Marie and I had met on the flight. Most
of the older generation Watchers would think that something like that was
terribly unprofessional.
"Well, you better learn all you can. Especialy since you're going to be
her Primary right off the bat," he said as he looked off into the
distance. "Her last Watcher, Sam Arnold, was a classmate of mine. But I
don't know all that much about her. She's suppose to be very good with a
blade.... but that's to be expected. A good singer; she made a living as
one back during the 1930's. Don't underestimate her, she's sneaky. Most
people, Immortals included. Just see a young woman or a teenage girl and
don't give her a second thought. And sometimes that's the last mistake
they ever make."
I thought about what Joe had to say, "Last I heard, Mr. Arnold is going
to be teaching Ancient Languages next semester."
"Yeah, Sam'll like that. He's been complaining that he's getting to old
to do field work for the past couple of years."
We made small talk for a while, then Joe made sure I had a fresh drink
and excused himself saying he had to go play owner.
I spent the next few hours reading over Marie's first journal. In the
background I could hear the four piece from El Paso bounce back and
forth between south Texas and muddy Cajun country blues.
Twice Joe got up on stage to play, once by himself and once with the
group.
Damn, he sounded even better than when I was a kid and he would come
over to the house and play.
As I read I learned that Marie wasn't a hunter or an avenger. She
appeared to only want to live as quiet a life as possible. In spite of
this she had still fought quite a number of duels.
Also, unlike most Immortals she doesn't seem to have a favorite weapon.
Marie tended to use small, light blades such as European and Japanese
short swords, various types of rapiers and the Kopis.
Most likely she used these types of blades due to her size and their
ease to conceal.
*****
About 3AM Joe and Mike, his other bartender were kicking the last of the
customers out. The band had already packed up and left. Mike started to
cleanup but Joe told him to forget it and go home.
After locking up and turning out the lights Joe led me up stairs to his
apartment and showed me to his spare bedroom. He then went off to make
coffee while I put my things away.
I looked around the apartment, it was small, but clean and efficient.
Everywhere I looked there were knick knacks, photos and books. Lots and
lots of books.
One photo caught my eye. It was sitting on the mantle next to a Marine
Corp Honorable Discharge.
It showed two men in their early 20's. They were filthy, wearing mud
soaked Tiger Striped fatigues and carrying enough firepower to level a
small village. They each needed a shave and a haircut and though they
both looked exhausted, the smiles on their faces made them look like
kids at Christmas.
I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. Shortly I felt his hands on my
shoulders and I heard him say in a quiet voice full of sadness, "I miss
him to Hon. Your dad was the best CO... Hell, he was the finest officer
I ever knew....and he was the best friend I ever had."
Leaning back against him, his arms encircle me. "I know Joe," I say, my
voice low and sad. "Poppa always said you were the closest he ever had
to a real brother."
End of Chapter I
AUTHOR: Ellie Dee
E-MAIL: Ellie_Dee@hotmail.com
RATING: PG-R (Mostly for language and violence.)
SUMMARY: The title pretty much says it all.
SPOILERS: Anything up to and including the series finale, also I whole
heartedly believe in Clan Denial.
DISCLAIMER: Oh yeah, like I'd still be writing fanfic if I owned HL.
DISTRIBUTION: You want it, you got it. Just please keep my name on
it and be sure to let me know where it's wandered off to.
FEEDBACK: YES, PLEASE!!! This is my drug of choice and I am badly
in need of a fix!
My First Watcher Assignment.
By Ellie Dee.
CHAPTER I
16 October 1998
1014Hrs.
FIRST ENTRY:
Dear Journal,
It finally happened. This morning I was called into the Master's office
and it wasn't about that unfortunate incident in Weapons Class.
I swear I thought the pistol was unloaded.
Master Wilkins was very nice though he seemed very....serious? This was
the first time that I'd seen him since he was appointed Master....after
the Massacre.
Oh Goddess, we lost so much when that Bastard killed the Council.
I know that we're suppose to stay neutral when it comes to dealing with
Immortals, but I can't help it, I'm glad MacLeod killed him.
As I said, the Master seemed very serious or maybe distracted is a
better word. Anyway, he spoke well of my record at the Academy. And only
commented that when he was a student and we spent more time on edged
weapons things could be very nasty.
He cautioned me about exposing myself, warned me to never get too close
to my assignment and reminded me that our utmost duty is to the truth.
He then handed me my assignment folder, took my hand and said I would be
in his prayers.
It was nice to hear him say that, but it still gave me a funny feeling
in the pit of my stomach.
Standing in the hallway outside his office I opened the file. Glancing
at the first few lines I could see that my assignment was an Immortal
named Marie Dumont, that she was almost 700 years old. And that we were
both booked on the 1730Hrs. Air France flight to the States.
I have to hurry and pack, I'll go over Marie's record on the flight. So
here I will close.
In the name of truth,
Renee' Green
Watcher (probationary)
Field Operations.
*****
Either someone up there doesn't like me or someone in the Academy Admin.
Office has a real strange sense of humor.
After leaving Master Wilkins office I returned to my room in the dorm.
There I found the first two of Marie's Watcher Journals. I stored them
in my carry on bag with her folder and began packing. Just as I was
finishing up, Michael Hicks; one of the lower classmen, came by to let
me know my taxi was here.
During the ride to Charles de Gaulle Airport I opened Marie's folder. My
first thought was, Damn it, someone put the wrong photo in the file! But
as I continued to read I discovered that while Marie was nearly 700, she
first died before she was 16.
My second thought was, I'm going to be the Watcher for someone who
couldn't even get into an "R" rated movie on her own.
Why me?
I continued reading her file during the remainder of the drive. Marie
was found by Yvette Dumont; a prostitute from Lyon, France, on or about
3 January 1304. They appear to have lived at the Red Ox Tavern where
Yvette worked. At the age of 12 Marie was orphaned and spent the next
three years working as a whore.
Marie first died on 7 March 1319 during a fight with her pimp. He had
accused her of cheating him and so proceeded to beat and rape her. While
he finished relieving himself, he strangled her until she died. As he
tried to decide what to do with the body, Marie revived. This resulted
in her being chased from Lyon by a mob yelling that she was a witch.
After leaving Lyon she wandered through much of Europe. It is unclear
who her first teacher was, but they must have met up soon after her
First Death. Since then she has made a living for herself at various
times as a thief, musician, slave, witch and a whore, just to name a
few.
Pausing, I look at her photo again. Small and slender, her black hair
is short and straight in a pageboy cut. She has a friendly open face
highlighted by soft brown eyes. The look they give is both warm and
intelligent.
I wonder if I'll ever get used to a 700 year old woman who looks like
a middle school cheerleader.
Before I could get any further we were at the airport. After checking
in I made my way to the boarding lounge, where I worked on my lap top
till my flight was called.
Boarding the plane I found my seat by the window, stowed my bag under
the seat in front of me and started to read Marie's first journal.
After a few minutes I heard someone say, "Excuse me." When I looked up
a young woman was holding out her hand for me to shake and said, "Looks
like we're going to be seat mates, my name is Marie. Marie Dumont."
Somebody must really hate me.
"Renee' Green," I replied taking her hand and shaking it automatically.
"Hello Renee', I get the feeling we're going to have a very pleasant
trip."
As we shake hands she happens to notice the Watcher Trefoil on my
wrist. "Oh what a lovely tattoo, it looks tribal. Are you Amerind?"
I may be one quarter Cherokee, but I look about as Indian as Winona
Ryder. "No, back in college some friends got me drunk one night and
took me to a tattoo parlor. Looks kind of silly doesn't it?"
"Oh no! I think it has an ancient mystical look," she replied.
While she was putting away her things, I hid any Watcher material in
my carry on bag.
"That's interesting, this book has a copy of your tattoo on the cover."
"What?" I cried out as I popped up bumping my head on the seat in front
of me. "Ow!" Damn that hurt.
"Are you alright Renee'?" she asked.
"I'm fine," I replied as I took the book from her. "This was where my
friends got the design from. It's one of my favorite books and I'd
really hate to loose it."
Well, I tell myself, a bad lie is better than nothing. Besides, at
least she didn't open it. As I'm putting the book away I realize that
the only things I brought to read were her folder and the journals.
None of which I can read while I'm around her.
This is going to be a really long flight.
*****
I suffered through the drinks, dinner and a french police drama that
made more sense if you watched and didn't listen. Actually dinner had
its high points; such as Marie trying to explain to the flight attendant
that, yes she really was old enough to drink wine.
When the lights started to go out Marie was still awake. I asked the
flight attendant if there was anything to read, she said all they had
were a month old copy of The Economist and some french fashion
magazines.
I didn't think my heart could handle all that excitement.
Well there's always the lap top. I got out my powerbook and spent the
next few hours writing letters to my brother and sister, mom and a
friend of mine from the academy, Mike Hicks.
With my letters done I realized that I was still wide awake. More than a
few of my closer boyfriends have commented on my not being able to go to
sleep without reading.
As I'm about to ask the attendant for the copy of The Economist, Marie
asked me if, since neither of us could sleep, would I mind playing a few
hands of cards?
"I'll get my deck," I say with relief in my voice. Retrieving my cards
from a pocket on my carry on bag. I ask, "Gin Rummy?"
"Certainly, shall we say a penny a point?"
"Fine," if I can't sleep or read then I'll take this immortal pigeon to
the cleaners.
*****
Two hours later I was out $30 and about ready to drop. I hadn't been
beaten this badly since I was in high school.
"Marie I hate to give up but I'm about ready to die."
"That's alright Renee', I'm getting rather tired myself"
As I put away the cards Marie got down some pillows and blankets. Just
before I fell off to sleep I heard Marie say, "Good night Renee'."
"'night," I mumbled back.
*****
While our plane taxied to the terminal at Seacouver, Marie and I
collected our things. I felt about as human as one can after less than
three hours sleep. But washing my face, brushing my hair and putting on
fresh lip stick helped some.
After Immigration we made our way to the exit in search of cabs. While
waiting I handed Marie a ten and a twenty.
"Here, this should cover what I owe you," I said with a slight grimace.
"I couldn't take it," Marie says shaking her head, "after all, I was
cheating."
"Oh I knew that, I just couldn't figure out how you were doing it. Think
you might consider showing me?"
She gave me mischievous grin, making her look even younger and
agrees. From her vest pocket she took a business card, on it she
wrote the address and phone number to her apartment here in Seacouver.
Along with the card Marie hands me the money, "You can use this to pay
for the drinks next time we get together." She then climbed into her
cab and sped off.
I took the next cab, telling the driver the address of the club my
uncle plays at. The ride was fairly short and the driver dropped me
at this nondescript building with a neon sign outside the read
simply, "Joe's."
Going inside, I set my bags down at the bar and ordered a glass of
wine. taking a long slow sip I turned to the music, I noticed the
guitarist sitting on a stool up on stage.
Late 40's, rugged and fit, black gray hair and beard trimmed short.
Doing a rather impressive run on his Fender Strat. Soon, his song
over, he takes his cane and limping slightly, makes his way off
stage. Heading towards the bar he saw me and stopped dead.
"Renee'? I didn't expect to see you so soon."
"Come on Uncle Joe, give us a hug." I reply smiling.
He steps forward, leaning his cane against the bar and engulfs me in a
giant bear hug.
"Ah Hon, it's been so long since I've seen ya. What are you doing here?"
"It happened Joe," I said excitedly, smiling up at him. "My assignment
came in, they've given me an Immortal!"
He looked at me somewhat strangely, "You mean you're part of a team?"
"No, I was assigned as the Primary to an Immortal. Why?"
He paused for several seconds, then shaking his head he continued, "Well
Hon, it's just thats kind of unusual. Normally to be a Primary you need
to have at least a few years experience. Probationary Watchers are always
assigned to work a team for at least a year under a seasoned Watcher.
I've never heard of a Probationary Watcher being made a Primary."
"Besides, whenever a new Watcher is assigned to your area the Academy
will always give you the heads up."
Bending down I retrieved Marie's folder from my bag and handed it to Joe.
When he had finished reading it Joe simply shook his head.
"I've never seen them do things this way before, but everything looks
official. I don't know, maybe they just made some changes in their
procedures recently."
Returning the folder to my bag, Joe lead the way over to an empty booth.
Along the way I let him carry one of my bags so he could feel macho. Once
we had my bags out of the way we got ourselves settled.
"So, you're gonna be Marie Dumont's new Watcher, huh?" He began. "Have
you had a chance to study up on her?"
"Not really," I said with a sigh. "They only gave me my assignment yester-
day morning. Wait a minute, I mean this morning. Shoot, they had me running
around so much I barely even had time to pack."
I was reluctant to mention that Marie and I had met on the flight. Most
of the older generation Watchers would think that something like that was
terribly unprofessional.
"Well, you better learn all you can. Especialy since you're going to be
her Primary right off the bat," he said as he looked off into the
distance. "Her last Watcher, Sam Arnold, was a classmate of mine. But I
don't know all that much about her. She's suppose to be very good with a
blade.... but that's to be expected. A good singer; she made a living as
one back during the 1930's. Don't underestimate her, she's sneaky. Most
people, Immortals included. Just see a young woman or a teenage girl and
don't give her a second thought. And sometimes that's the last mistake
they ever make."
I thought about what Joe had to say, "Last I heard, Mr. Arnold is going
to be teaching Ancient Languages next semester."
"Yeah, Sam'll like that. He's been complaining that he's getting to old
to do field work for the past couple of years."
We made small talk for a while, then Joe made sure I had a fresh drink
and excused himself saying he had to go play owner.
I spent the next few hours reading over Marie's first journal. In the
background I could hear the four piece from El Paso bounce back and
forth between south Texas and muddy Cajun country blues.
Twice Joe got up on stage to play, once by himself and once with the
group.
Damn, he sounded even better than when I was a kid and he would come
over to the house and play.
As I read I learned that Marie wasn't a hunter or an avenger. She
appeared to only want to live as quiet a life as possible. In spite of
this she had still fought quite a number of duels.
Also, unlike most Immortals she doesn't seem to have a favorite weapon.
Marie tended to use small, light blades such as European and Japanese
short swords, various types of rapiers and the Kopis.
Most likely she used these types of blades due to her size and their
ease to conceal.
*****
About 3AM Joe and Mike, his other bartender were kicking the last of the
customers out. The band had already packed up and left. Mike started to
cleanup but Joe told him to forget it and go home.
After locking up and turning out the lights Joe led me up stairs to his
apartment and showed me to his spare bedroom. He then went off to make
coffee while I put my things away.
I looked around the apartment, it was small, but clean and efficient.
Everywhere I looked there were knick knacks, photos and books. Lots and
lots of books.
One photo caught my eye. It was sitting on the mantle next to a Marine
Corp Honorable Discharge.
It showed two men in their early 20's. They were filthy, wearing mud
soaked Tiger Striped fatigues and carrying enough firepower to level a
small village. They each needed a shave and a haircut and though they
both looked exhausted, the smiles on their faces made them look like
kids at Christmas.
I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. Shortly I felt his hands on my
shoulders and I heard him say in a quiet voice full of sadness, "I miss
him to Hon. Your dad was the best CO... Hell, he was the finest officer
I ever knew....and he was the best friend I ever had."
Leaning back against him, his arms encircle me. "I know Joe," I say, my
voice low and sad. "Poppa always said you were the closest he ever had
to a real brother."
End of Chapter I