AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Please forgive my garbled techno wizard stuff that appears later in the chapter.  I'm sure I've screwed something up!  [smiles]  I apologize in advance!

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A LIFE IN THE BALANCE

He came awake slowly, unsure what had made him open his eyes.  He decided it had to be the creeping approach of sunrise.  It was time to pick up and move.  He at least wanted to travel down the street and keep his eyes open for any sightings of Black Heart.  Donovan groaned when the cell phone began to ring again.  Why did I shut the fucking thing off, he thought.  Once his grudging trademark, the phone was now a nuisance.  He picked it up and snapped it open, peering down at the screen with little or no interest.  The number was familiar, and it took him a moment to realize it was Alex's personal number.  His memory was slipping again.  He didn't understand why they continued to call when it was blatantly obvious that he had no desire to speak to anyone.  Could they not take a hint?  Temptation from rational Donovan nearly forced him to retrieve his voice mail messages.  However, his irrational side won out once again.  He closed the phone and tossed it back onto the seat beside him.  Wonderingly, he stared down at the little black annoyance.  Donovan's hand reached out and grasped it.  He snapped it open again and stared down at the screen until his eyes began to burn from the exertion.  They were trying desperately to contact him, and he was almost close to tossing aside his hunger for revenge just long enough to check the voice mail.  Something stopped him cold.

Images of Loralei began to surface.  His mind played back to the previous day.  Had it only been one day?  Jesus, it seemed like ten years.  He saw the blood covering her chest, her hands, and streaked on her face.  He saw the way it seeped into the carpet, forever staining it, forever staining his heart.  Detached now, he saw himself in the ambulance with her, holding her hand, begging her to live.  He heard her urgent words, telling him she had no time.  Most painful of all, he heard her agonized whisper of 'I love you' before he could even speak the words himself.  She drew her last, weakened breath, the air puffing out into his face, barely feeling like anything at all.  He saw the victorious smile of the killer as she bragged about taking Loralei down.  Those images, thoughts, and sounds abruptly cut off any urge that existed to check his voice mail.  He snapped the phone closed again and clenched it in his fist.  He wanted to crush it to tiny bits, to inflict the pain eating away at his soul, even on an unfeeling cell phone.  His rage was sadly misdirected.  Slowly, the impulse to crush the phone drifted away.  Like it or not, irrational Donovan needed the phone.  After he caught and destroyed Black Heart, he would make the call and face whatever consequences awaited him.  All for you, my love.

*  *  *

Later, the UC crew was gathered at the office, huddled together behind Cody, the human super computer.  Donovan had yet to shut off his phone, and that action alone confused them, but it was a good thing.  Cody was vigorously trying to set up some type of direction find on Donovan's cell.  The task would prove difficult without a tracking device.  The job was annoying, but he was persistent enough to pound away until his efforts were successful or until he lost his mind [the latter was more likely to happen].  Instead of the boss breathing down his neck, three other people, right now just as intense as he, were pushing him beyond all limits.

"If he's got the phone on, that says something, doesn't it," Jake asked.  "Why would he bother at all if he didn't want to maintain some type of contact?"

"He's what the JD considers a rogue," Monica said.  "He's gone.  There's probably nothing of his old self still inside.  He has his phone to report when his mission is complete.  Don't you get it?  He doesn't want to come back.  We have to find him before the high hats at the JD discover he's missing.  If he only knew-"

Alex cut her off.  "It won't take long for the head people to find out.  You know that the central office calls him constantly," Alex said.  "No telling how many people he reports to on a daily basis."

Jake suddenly remembered something, or rather someone.  "What about Loralei's partner?  Do you think he'll report it?"

"Goddamn," Alex swore.  "I forgot about him.  Is he still at the hospital?"

"I don't know, but we need to find out."

*  *  *

Donovan came slowly out of his daze.  For the hundredth time, he realized that he had lost time.  He had to get moving, or he would miss the Black Heart leaving town, and he knew she would leave.  For now, nothing here interested her.  Without hesitating, he turned over the engine and gunned it to life.  Staring straight ahead, he threw the car in gear and pulled out onto the street.  Morning traffic was light; it was early, with rush hour still more than two hours away.  This would be the perfect time for him to see her as she made her escape.  Without thinking, he snapped on the radio.  The police band had become an obsession.  It kept him connected to Black Heart's deeds.

He drove slowly, cautiously, but not so slow that he would attract a police officer.  He didn't need to be pulled over, at least not yet.  There were several dilapidated motels on the right side of the street.  Most of them were 'rent a room by the hour.'  Again, he wondered what, if anything, had attracted her to this side of town.  Think, you dumbass.  This is where she can be anybody she wants, and no one will care.  Of course, that was it.  Every law enforcement agency in the city, probably the country, knew of her.  Yet, the people who called this area their turf were the dregs of humanity.  It was the home of drug addicts, prostitutes, and any other person labeled as a 'derelict.'  Although harsh, Donovan knew that if one of these folks died, the cops wouldn't break their necks to solve the crime.  Only when a more 'desirable' person died did law enforcement seem to care, especially law enforcement in larger cities.  What am I, he thought gruffly, a sociologist?  He shook his head to clear away the distractions.  She couldn't escape him again.  If she left the city, he would still pursue her, but the job would be slightly more complex.

Donovan slowed down as he passed one of the seedy motels.  He had no idea what it was about the hotel that intrigued him.  Glancing in his rearview mirror and seeing nothing behind him, he threw the car into reverse and parked a few slots down from the front of the motel.  She's here.  He had seemingly sniffed her out.  He had no basis to justify his feelings.  He just knew.  Checking his weapon and ammo, he stepped out in the chilly morning air and sauntered casually toward the front door.  The interior of the hotel was worse than the exterior.  It was dimly lit and reminded him of a hideout one might see in an old '40s mobster movie.  Dust floated freely in the air and tickled his nose.  In the center of the sparsely furnished room sat an enclosed 'check-in' desk.  It was surrounded by bulletproof glass, and had one small hole in which to exchange money for a room or whatever else.  A middle-aged man sat behind the glass desperately trying to hide his bald head with a hideous toupee.  Donovan tried to keep his eyes off it as he approached the desk.

"We don't sell no drugs here," the man said suspiciously as he eyed Donovan's black attire.

It was almost funny.  If he hadn't been so focused on his job at hand, he might have laughed.  "I don't want drugs.  I'm looking for a woman."

"Well buddy," he cackled.  "You won't find any in here.  They're all on the streets.  Now once you find one, you're welcome to bring her right over."  The man was making him nervous.  His eyes were cold, with no life in them.  The last man who came in here like that ended up renting a room just so he could eat a bullet.

"You don't understand," he said calmly.  "I'm looking for a specific woman.  I think she's staying in your fine establishment."  He didn't give the clerk time to react to his biting sarcasm.  "She's tall, probably five eight or nine, and thin.  Very long legs.  Her eyes are piercing and green.  Her hair is cut short, and when I saw her last, it was jet black.  Does this sound familiar to you?"

It did.  He had been on duty when the girl checked in.  However, when she came into the motel, her hair was shoulder length and bright red.  When she checked out very early this morning, her hair was black.  He thought the girl was kind of hot, and he flirted helplessly with her, but she wouldn't give him the time of day.  "Sure, she was here.  I think she said her name was…uh…"  He turned to look at the reservation log.  "Oh yeah, here it is.  She checked in under the name Loralei Kadin."

A sharp pain erupted in Donovan's chest and ballooned out larger than life itself.  It felt as if he'd been stabbed straight through the heart.  She was toying with him again, torturing him, and hitting where he lived.  His enormous rage compelled him to drive his body forward and break through the glass.  He could have strangled the life out of this man.  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  His anger was misdirected again.  How dare she use Loralei's name.  How fucking dare she.  The unexpected cruelty didn't exactly catch him off guard, but it hurt just the same.  His hands itched to wrap around her throat and squeeze until her eyes bugged out and her face turned blue.  The time will come.  Be patient and hold onto your sanity for just a few moments longer.

"Is she still here," he asked, containing a snarl.

"Uh, no, sir.  She checked out a few hours ago."  The clerk was profoundly grateful for the bulletproof glass.  This fellow seemed ready to kill him.

"I want to see her room," he demanded.

He wanted to deny him access, but he was afraid to refuse him at the same time.  Mutely, he turned to a safe and unlocked it.  Dozens of keys hung inside.  He plucked one off a hook and quietly slid it toward him.  "You'll find the room just up the stairs on floor two.  It's 214."

Donovan took the key without a 'thank you,' 'fuck you,' or 'see you later.'  He gripped the key in his hand so tightly that the teeth were digging grooves into the palm of his hand.  Grimly, he climbed the stairs up to the second floor.  Even at this early hour, he could hear the muffled sounds of patrons practicing their bizarre sexual rituals.  He blocked it out as he progressed down the hallway.  He stuck the key into the lock of 214 and turned the knob.  Black Heart had left quite a mess.  He stepped inside the room and noticed black hair dye all over the sink, floor, and walls of the bathroom.  There were hair clippings scattered all over the place.  What drew most of his attention was a discarded credit card.  Without touching it, he glanced down at it.  John D. Grizzell was inscribed on it.  Donovan didn't doubt that Mr. Grizzell had been the dead man on the street.  She had left evidence behind.  Her work was getting shabby.  Of course, he felt that she was continuously toying with him, leaving clues behind.  A small notebook had been left behind as well.  He dug a pen from his jacket and flipped it open.  It was another slap to the face.  Written all over one page was Loralei Donovan.  Sickened by the sight, and the pain in his heart, he closed it and backed away.

The clerk looked up as the haunted fellow made his way toward him.  Quietly, he slid the key over to the clerk.  "You might want to call the police," Donovan said.  "This woman killed a man last night.  His credit card was left behind."

*  *  *

While Jake and Alex had hotfooted it to the hospital, Cody and Monica stayed behind as Cody desperately tried to triangulate the location of Donovan's cell phone.  "Praise GOD," he yelled suddenly.

Monica focused her dark eyes on his face.  "Did you do it?"

"He's using the phone.  I got him, I finally got him," he shouted.  "The signal is coming from west of town."

"The airport!  He's going toward the airport!"

*  *  *

Bart Jackson sat in the room with Geneva Kadin, Loralei's mother.  As soon as Geneva received Jackson's call, she hadn't hesitated to catch the first flight out.  Her husband had promised to follow her lead as soon as he dealt with their business affairs at home.  She sat in a quiet kind of shock beside the fellow who had partnered her child.  She didn't understand how her little girl had gotten so torn up.  It wasn't an easy thought for her to reconcile.  She remembered when Loralei announced her desire to join the FBI.  Geneva and Will Kadin had supported her decision, but they didn't understand it.  They watched the news; they understood what happened to federal agents.  They died.  Now, her sweet child was- 

A man and woman suddenly burst into the waiting room, breaking up Geneva's thoughts.  She looked up at a dark complexioned man and a woman with penetrating eyes.  The FBI agent seemed to recognize the pair.

"We're sorry to interrupt at a time like this," Alex said apologetically, "but could we possibly speak to you for a minute, Agent Jackson?"

He stood and walked toward two fifths of the UC team.  "Of course."  He followed them outside.  "Any word on Donovan?"

They each shook their heads at almost the same time.  "No," Jake said.  "But we've got Cody trying to track him down.  Do any of the fed higher ups know about Donovan?"

"No, not from my mouth," he said.  "I haven't left the hospital.  I had to wait here for Mrs. Kadin."

"Donovan's had some kind of breakdown, and we're trying to find him before the JD director does.  We're asking that you don't say anything to your superiors.  If anyone asks, tell them he's still here at the hospital," Jake explained.  "If we can find him, talk to him, he'll be okay."

"What about Loralei?  What is the status," Alex asked.

Jackson didn't say anything.  Instead, he quietly led Alex and Jake down a narrow hallway.  They stopped short of an opened doorway, and Alex gasped aloud.  Jake shook his head and sighed sadly.  Loralei's prone body lay inside the sterile room.  The blood had been cleaned off, of course, but the condition of her was still hard to take.  Machines hooked into her did the breathing for her.

"Last report we got, she's comatose, but they expect her to come out of it any time.  She's critical, but stable.  She did die on the ambulance, but they brought her back.  You have to find Donovan.  His presence is key to her survival."

As Jake, Alex, and Jackson made their way back to the waiting room, a cell phone twittered.  Alex had forgotten that she had even brought it in with her.  Quickly, she ran outside, dug it out of her jacket pocket, and hit 'send.' 

"What is it," she said onto the phone.

"We've got him," Cody's voice said.  "He's headed to the airport."

Thank God, thank God, thank God, she thought.  "Try sending him a text message," she suggested.  "He may ignore it as well, but try anyway.  Tell him Loralei is alive and that she needs him."