(Chapter 7. Amanda's office at CGH, other places throughout LA. March 3,
2033.)
Jesse put his hand on Steve's, making him stop in the process of rolling up his shirtsleeve.
"Wanna tell us what the hell is going on, pal?"
Steve narrowed his eyes at Jesse.
"No."
"Steve," Jesse said firmly.
In over thirty years of working with Mark Sloan both in medicine and on police cases, Jesse had perfected that tone almost as well as his sad little boy look. Steve sighed, and continued rolling up his sleeve.
"Just draw some blood and start the test and I will tell you both all about it."
As Amanda moved around the lab setting up for the test, Steve spilled his guts. He told them all about the interview and how he suspected he knew who Emily was even before he met her. He described his shock at meeting her for the first time, and her incredible resemblance in looks and manner to her mother. He reminded them of how short Olivia was, told them about Emily's temper and the fact that she was left-handed. Then he told them about giving Steven a ride to work.
"That's all pretty remarkable, Steve," Jesse conceded, "but I still don't see why you're running this test."
"Aughhh!" Steve yelled, making his friend jump. "Haven't you listened to a thing I've said, Jess?"
"Yeah, Steve, I actually have listened, and it doesn't make any sense."
Amanda was quiet. She knew. She'd done the math almost immediately. She could have told Jesse, but Steve still hadn't really said the words yet. She thought it was important for Steve to say the words, so she remained silent.
He folded his arm to keep the cotton ball in place as Jesse removed the needle, and put his hand to his forehead. Finally, in plain, simple terms he explained the problem.
"Jess, when did we meet Olivia?"
Jesse shrugged as he handed the vial of blood to Amanda, "About thirty years ago, I guess."
"No, Jess, exactly thirty years ago. August fourteenth. I was shot on the twentieth. She and I made love for the first time on December 10th. I was so excited I forgot to use protection. She told me she'd been on the pill long enough for it to be effective, but I think she was wrong."
"Steve, this is all still just coincidence."
"Jess, Liv and Keith were married on Valentine's Day. Emily's birthday, her *thirtieth* birthday, Jess, was in September."
"But Steve, that's only seven months."
Steve remained silent.
"Ohhh, that's *only* seven months."
"I know. That's why…Ithinkshe'smydaughter."
'There,' Steve thought as Jesse bandaged his arm in silence, 'I've finally said it for myself. Now maybe I can admit it to Maribeth and Dad. If I can tell them, then I might be able to tell Steven.'
Across town, in a dusty old warehouse, a shadowy figure laughed.
"So, Deputy Chief of Police in Charge of the Valley Division, Steve Sloan, has a bastard daughter from back east, and he hired her onto the LAPD himself. She's a cop, a dirty cop, and she's working for me." He leered. "Now that'll be one hell of a headline."
Emily's cell phone rang, and she answered it. Lately she dreaded every call, knowing that sooner or later it would be the one to turn her life upside down.
"Lieutenant Stephens."
"Hey, sweetie!"
"Hi, Mom," she couldn't even pretend to be cheerful anymore.
"Wow, why so glum?"
Emily yawned, "Just tired, Mom. How's it going?"
"Really well, honey, but we miss you. Your daddy misses you."
"I miss him, too, Mom, but you know I had to leave. I can't take the cold anymore."
"I know, honey, but Daddy and I have been talking. Pretty soon we'll both be retired, and…"
"No, Mother. Absolutely not."
"What?"
"You are *not* going to move out here and hover over me. I am recovered. I have healed. I am well. I do *not* need taking care of any more. The virus didn't kill me, and I promise I won't have a relapse. Please, just give me some room, Mom!"
Liv sighed, and when she spoke again, Emily could hear the tears in her voice. God, how she wished she could tell her mom about what was to come!
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry if I fuss over you, but I've lost so much. I want to keep the people I love most close to me."
Emily softened her voice.
"I know, Mom. I'm sorry for snapping. I…"
Call waiting interrupted.
"I have a beep, Mom. I'll call you later, ok?"
"Ok, sweetie. Love you."
"Love you too, Mom."
She pushed the button that switched her to the other call and said again, "Lieutenant Stephens."
Her contact was succinct. "They move him in two hours. Assemble you team."
"We're not ready, sir."
"Too bad. They are."
"Yes, sir."
He gave her the address and hung up without another word.
Emily called Rossi. He would call Marino and Velasquez. Then she ducked into Captain Cioffi's office for a minute. If only he knew. What would he say?
"Hey, Cap?"
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
She held up her injured hand and said, "I, uh, laid myself open last night, and it hurts like the devil. I think it may be infected. Would it be all right with you if I went to the hospital and had it checked out? I'll make up the time at the end of shift."
Cioffi frowned and asked, "How'd you hurt yourself, Stephens?"
"I'd rather not say, sir. It's embarrassing," she grinned, and Cioffi smiled back. She knew no one could resist her grin.
"Ok, Stephens. Just let Bremer know where you're going, and keep your phone and pager on."
"Will do, Cap. Thank you, sir."
At the warehouse, Emily and her men changed into their gear. Each of them had a suit of full body armor. It was lightweight and flexible, top of the line new materials. She wondered where her contact had acquired it. Only the feds and the CIA had stuff like that. She'd like to explore that avenue sometime.
"Ok, gentlemen, this is the real deal. This is *not* a drill. Two and a half minutes. In, out, and on our way."
"Where do we go after we get him," Rossi asked.
"I have the address," she said. "I'll tell you when you need to know."
"I ain't goin' nowhere 'til you tell us."
She aimed her 9mm at his head and said, "Then you're goin' to hell, Rossi. You in or you out?"
He swallowed, hard, and whispered, "In."
She gave a nasty little grin and said, "Good."
Moretti was pacing, out of his mind with fear. Agent Wagner had promised him they'd get him out before anyone tried to move him. He was scheduled to leave in less than thirty minutes. He knew if they took him out of this house, he'd be dead before he got to the new place. That's how the Mob worked. They'd blow him away in transit. Or maybe they'd kidnap and torture him first to see what he could tell them about the cops. Either way, he'd never get to see his kid or his grandkid.
The door to his room burst open, and four gray-clad figures piled in. They were wearing body armor, even gloves and hoods.
"Sixty seconds," said the tall thin one. By her voice, he could tell she was a woman. She looked at him with piercing green-gold eyes and said, "Agent Wagner sends his regards."
A thick cloth was slipped over his face, and he smelled a pungent odor. He tried to hold his breath, but he'd already been panting from nerves. He didn't last long.
"One fifteen," he heard the woman say as he slipped into the darkness.
"Two fifteen," Emily called out. "Hustle it up, Velasquez."
They'd made it this far without having to kill anyone. Marino had taken out the one and only guard they had encountered by knocking him out with chloroform.
Velasquez finished hotwiring, and the van roared to life. She waved Rossi and Marino out of their cover. They were stealing the feds' own van. They had another vehicle stashed not far away. They would transfer Moretti to it, and Rossi and Velasquez would ditch the feds' van while she and Marino took Moretti in the other direction. The feds would follow the signal from the LoJack device, and just keep getting farther and farther away from Moretti. They would all meet up later at a location she had yet to tell them.
The men dumped Moretti in the van, and Marino climbed in. Velasquez was already in the driver's seat. Emily took a moment to make the old man more comfortable and strapped him in. As she turned to offer Rossi a hand up, she found herself looking down the barrel of his gun.
"What the…"
"Shut up and get out."
She did as she was told. Even full body armor wouldn't stop a .45 slug at this range. Marino and Velasquez came to the back of the van.
"Rossi," Marino said, "What the hell you doin'?"
Without looking away, Rossi said, "I told you I was gonna kill the bitch. Well, now I'm gonna kill her."
Emily watched Rossi's eyes carefully. People tended to squint just as they were about to fire, probably in anticipation of the noise. Behind him, she saw someone come out of the building. The she saw his eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. The feds opened fire just a heartbeat before Rossi, and as Emily dove into the back of the van, Rossi doubled over backward.
"Oh, *hell*" she screamed as the bullet tore through her shoulder. In the next breath she said, "Thank you, *Jesus*. It wasn't my heart."
She crawled through the van and clambered over the seats to slip in place behind the wheel. Releasing the brake, she tore off into the night, leaving her team behind to answer some very tough questions.
A few blocks away, she stopped. The van the team had stashed was there. She looked around suspiciously. There was no way she was taking it. It could be bugged. She looked around the neighborhood, and spotted a white Ford. That would do nicely. She grabbed the slim jim Velasquez had left on the seat.
Moretti was still out. She hauled him over her good shoulder, and walked over to the vehicle. Taking a small device off her belt, she aimed it at the car and heard the faint electronic beep when her gadget disarmed the theft deterrent system. Then she jimmied the door, dumped the old man on the back seat, tore into the ignition, and brought the engine to life. All the technology in the world, she thought, and you could still break in to a car and hotwire it in under a minute, *if* you knew what your were doing.
"Thank you, Mama, for teaching me."
"Dr. Steven Sloan, please."
The hospital operator looked at the board and told the woman on the other end of the line, "I'm sorry, ma'am. He's signed out for the day. Can I take a message?"
The young operator heard a stifled curse, then, "Is Dr. Jesse Travis available?"
"Yes, ma'am, he's still here. Whom shall I say is calling?"
There was a pause, then, "Tell him it's Olivia's kid. He'll know who I am. And tell him it's a matter of life and death."
A moment later Jesse took the phone and said, "Emily."
"Jesus, how did you know my name?"
"Steve, uh, the Chief told me."
"I see." There was a long pause. Then she said, "Meet me at the ER entrance, or a lot of people, including the Chief, might die. You have three minutes. Bring some bandages, antibiotics, and a suture kit."
"What's going on, Emily?"
"You have two and a half minutes, doctor. I suggest you hurry."
Jesse was out the door in two minutes and twenty-five seconds, with everything he'd been told to bring, and then some. A big white Ford pulled up, the power windows slid down, and he found himself staring down the barrel of a very large gun.
"You're on time. I like that. Wish I'd had you on my team. Get in."
Jesse didn't argue.
She handed him a rag and said, "Blindfold yourself."
"Why?"
"So you stay alive."
He did as instructed.
Jesse tried to pay attention to the twists and turns as they rode through the city for what seemed like hours, but he had so many questions, he kept getting distracted. For some strange reason, he wanted to make small talk.
"So, you're Emily, huh?"
"Yep."
"Got a middle name?"
"Three of 'em actually."
"No kidding."
"Yep."
"What are they?"
He heard her sigh and take a deep breath.
"My full name is Emily Morgan Stephanie Theodora Stephens. Mom and Dad wanted to honor their friends, but they also wanted me to have a name that I could use without bringing up all the history every time I signed a check."
"I see."
"I doubt you do."
"I was there, Emily. I know what Ted did, and I know what happened at the wedding. I was Steve's best man."
"Whatever."
The sound of the car changed, and Jesse guessed they were inside a large building. He reached for the blindfold, but felt her slap his hand away.
"Leave it on for now!"
"Look, Emily, I'm willing to help you, but you have to trust me."
"I know Dr. Travis, but there are people who…if they think you know…if they…"
She stopped and got out of the car. Jesse felt the door beside him open and she said, "There are people who would kill you to keep you from telling anyone where I am, and there are people who would make you wish you were dead to make you give them the same information. I need your help, but you were in danger the moment you answered that call. I'm doing the best I can under very difficult circumstances to protect you. Help me by leaving the blindfold on, ok?"
She sounded almost friendly.
"On one condition," he demanded.
"What's that?"
"Call me Jesse."
"Ok."
Jesse put his hand on Steve's, making him stop in the process of rolling up his shirtsleeve.
"Wanna tell us what the hell is going on, pal?"
Steve narrowed his eyes at Jesse.
"No."
"Steve," Jesse said firmly.
In over thirty years of working with Mark Sloan both in medicine and on police cases, Jesse had perfected that tone almost as well as his sad little boy look. Steve sighed, and continued rolling up his sleeve.
"Just draw some blood and start the test and I will tell you both all about it."
As Amanda moved around the lab setting up for the test, Steve spilled his guts. He told them all about the interview and how he suspected he knew who Emily was even before he met her. He described his shock at meeting her for the first time, and her incredible resemblance in looks and manner to her mother. He reminded them of how short Olivia was, told them about Emily's temper and the fact that she was left-handed. Then he told them about giving Steven a ride to work.
"That's all pretty remarkable, Steve," Jesse conceded, "but I still don't see why you're running this test."
"Aughhh!" Steve yelled, making his friend jump. "Haven't you listened to a thing I've said, Jess?"
"Yeah, Steve, I actually have listened, and it doesn't make any sense."
Amanda was quiet. She knew. She'd done the math almost immediately. She could have told Jesse, but Steve still hadn't really said the words yet. She thought it was important for Steve to say the words, so she remained silent.
He folded his arm to keep the cotton ball in place as Jesse removed the needle, and put his hand to his forehead. Finally, in plain, simple terms he explained the problem.
"Jess, when did we meet Olivia?"
Jesse shrugged as he handed the vial of blood to Amanda, "About thirty years ago, I guess."
"No, Jess, exactly thirty years ago. August fourteenth. I was shot on the twentieth. She and I made love for the first time on December 10th. I was so excited I forgot to use protection. She told me she'd been on the pill long enough for it to be effective, but I think she was wrong."
"Steve, this is all still just coincidence."
"Jess, Liv and Keith were married on Valentine's Day. Emily's birthday, her *thirtieth* birthday, Jess, was in September."
"But Steve, that's only seven months."
Steve remained silent.
"Ohhh, that's *only* seven months."
"I know. That's why…Ithinkshe'smydaughter."
'There,' Steve thought as Jesse bandaged his arm in silence, 'I've finally said it for myself. Now maybe I can admit it to Maribeth and Dad. If I can tell them, then I might be able to tell Steven.'
Across town, in a dusty old warehouse, a shadowy figure laughed.
"So, Deputy Chief of Police in Charge of the Valley Division, Steve Sloan, has a bastard daughter from back east, and he hired her onto the LAPD himself. She's a cop, a dirty cop, and she's working for me." He leered. "Now that'll be one hell of a headline."
Emily's cell phone rang, and she answered it. Lately she dreaded every call, knowing that sooner or later it would be the one to turn her life upside down.
"Lieutenant Stephens."
"Hey, sweetie!"
"Hi, Mom," she couldn't even pretend to be cheerful anymore.
"Wow, why so glum?"
Emily yawned, "Just tired, Mom. How's it going?"
"Really well, honey, but we miss you. Your daddy misses you."
"I miss him, too, Mom, but you know I had to leave. I can't take the cold anymore."
"I know, honey, but Daddy and I have been talking. Pretty soon we'll both be retired, and…"
"No, Mother. Absolutely not."
"What?"
"You are *not* going to move out here and hover over me. I am recovered. I have healed. I am well. I do *not* need taking care of any more. The virus didn't kill me, and I promise I won't have a relapse. Please, just give me some room, Mom!"
Liv sighed, and when she spoke again, Emily could hear the tears in her voice. God, how she wished she could tell her mom about what was to come!
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry if I fuss over you, but I've lost so much. I want to keep the people I love most close to me."
Emily softened her voice.
"I know, Mom. I'm sorry for snapping. I…"
Call waiting interrupted.
"I have a beep, Mom. I'll call you later, ok?"
"Ok, sweetie. Love you."
"Love you too, Mom."
She pushed the button that switched her to the other call and said again, "Lieutenant Stephens."
Her contact was succinct. "They move him in two hours. Assemble you team."
"We're not ready, sir."
"Too bad. They are."
"Yes, sir."
He gave her the address and hung up without another word.
Emily called Rossi. He would call Marino and Velasquez. Then she ducked into Captain Cioffi's office for a minute. If only he knew. What would he say?
"Hey, Cap?"
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
She held up her injured hand and said, "I, uh, laid myself open last night, and it hurts like the devil. I think it may be infected. Would it be all right with you if I went to the hospital and had it checked out? I'll make up the time at the end of shift."
Cioffi frowned and asked, "How'd you hurt yourself, Stephens?"
"I'd rather not say, sir. It's embarrassing," she grinned, and Cioffi smiled back. She knew no one could resist her grin.
"Ok, Stephens. Just let Bremer know where you're going, and keep your phone and pager on."
"Will do, Cap. Thank you, sir."
At the warehouse, Emily and her men changed into their gear. Each of them had a suit of full body armor. It was lightweight and flexible, top of the line new materials. She wondered where her contact had acquired it. Only the feds and the CIA had stuff like that. She'd like to explore that avenue sometime.
"Ok, gentlemen, this is the real deal. This is *not* a drill. Two and a half minutes. In, out, and on our way."
"Where do we go after we get him," Rossi asked.
"I have the address," she said. "I'll tell you when you need to know."
"I ain't goin' nowhere 'til you tell us."
She aimed her 9mm at his head and said, "Then you're goin' to hell, Rossi. You in or you out?"
He swallowed, hard, and whispered, "In."
She gave a nasty little grin and said, "Good."
Moretti was pacing, out of his mind with fear. Agent Wagner had promised him they'd get him out before anyone tried to move him. He was scheduled to leave in less than thirty minutes. He knew if they took him out of this house, he'd be dead before he got to the new place. That's how the Mob worked. They'd blow him away in transit. Or maybe they'd kidnap and torture him first to see what he could tell them about the cops. Either way, he'd never get to see his kid or his grandkid.
The door to his room burst open, and four gray-clad figures piled in. They were wearing body armor, even gloves and hoods.
"Sixty seconds," said the tall thin one. By her voice, he could tell she was a woman. She looked at him with piercing green-gold eyes and said, "Agent Wagner sends his regards."
A thick cloth was slipped over his face, and he smelled a pungent odor. He tried to hold his breath, but he'd already been panting from nerves. He didn't last long.
"One fifteen," he heard the woman say as he slipped into the darkness.
"Two fifteen," Emily called out. "Hustle it up, Velasquez."
They'd made it this far without having to kill anyone. Marino had taken out the one and only guard they had encountered by knocking him out with chloroform.
Velasquez finished hotwiring, and the van roared to life. She waved Rossi and Marino out of their cover. They were stealing the feds' own van. They had another vehicle stashed not far away. They would transfer Moretti to it, and Rossi and Velasquez would ditch the feds' van while she and Marino took Moretti in the other direction. The feds would follow the signal from the LoJack device, and just keep getting farther and farther away from Moretti. They would all meet up later at a location she had yet to tell them.
The men dumped Moretti in the van, and Marino climbed in. Velasquez was already in the driver's seat. Emily took a moment to make the old man more comfortable and strapped him in. As she turned to offer Rossi a hand up, she found herself looking down the barrel of his gun.
"What the…"
"Shut up and get out."
She did as she was told. Even full body armor wouldn't stop a .45 slug at this range. Marino and Velasquez came to the back of the van.
"Rossi," Marino said, "What the hell you doin'?"
Without looking away, Rossi said, "I told you I was gonna kill the bitch. Well, now I'm gonna kill her."
Emily watched Rossi's eyes carefully. People tended to squint just as they were about to fire, probably in anticipation of the noise. Behind him, she saw someone come out of the building. The she saw his eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. The feds opened fire just a heartbeat before Rossi, and as Emily dove into the back of the van, Rossi doubled over backward.
"Oh, *hell*" she screamed as the bullet tore through her shoulder. In the next breath she said, "Thank you, *Jesus*. It wasn't my heart."
She crawled through the van and clambered over the seats to slip in place behind the wheel. Releasing the brake, she tore off into the night, leaving her team behind to answer some very tough questions.
A few blocks away, she stopped. The van the team had stashed was there. She looked around suspiciously. There was no way she was taking it. It could be bugged. She looked around the neighborhood, and spotted a white Ford. That would do nicely. She grabbed the slim jim Velasquez had left on the seat.
Moretti was still out. She hauled him over her good shoulder, and walked over to the vehicle. Taking a small device off her belt, she aimed it at the car and heard the faint electronic beep when her gadget disarmed the theft deterrent system. Then she jimmied the door, dumped the old man on the back seat, tore into the ignition, and brought the engine to life. All the technology in the world, she thought, and you could still break in to a car and hotwire it in under a minute, *if* you knew what your were doing.
"Thank you, Mama, for teaching me."
"Dr. Steven Sloan, please."
The hospital operator looked at the board and told the woman on the other end of the line, "I'm sorry, ma'am. He's signed out for the day. Can I take a message?"
The young operator heard a stifled curse, then, "Is Dr. Jesse Travis available?"
"Yes, ma'am, he's still here. Whom shall I say is calling?"
There was a pause, then, "Tell him it's Olivia's kid. He'll know who I am. And tell him it's a matter of life and death."
A moment later Jesse took the phone and said, "Emily."
"Jesus, how did you know my name?"
"Steve, uh, the Chief told me."
"I see." There was a long pause. Then she said, "Meet me at the ER entrance, or a lot of people, including the Chief, might die. You have three minutes. Bring some bandages, antibiotics, and a suture kit."
"What's going on, Emily?"
"You have two and a half minutes, doctor. I suggest you hurry."
Jesse was out the door in two minutes and twenty-five seconds, with everything he'd been told to bring, and then some. A big white Ford pulled up, the power windows slid down, and he found himself staring down the barrel of a very large gun.
"You're on time. I like that. Wish I'd had you on my team. Get in."
Jesse didn't argue.
She handed him a rag and said, "Blindfold yourself."
"Why?"
"So you stay alive."
He did as instructed.
Jesse tried to pay attention to the twists and turns as they rode through the city for what seemed like hours, but he had so many questions, he kept getting distracted. For some strange reason, he wanted to make small talk.
"So, you're Emily, huh?"
"Yep."
"Got a middle name?"
"Three of 'em actually."
"No kidding."
"Yep."
"What are they?"
He heard her sigh and take a deep breath.
"My full name is Emily Morgan Stephanie Theodora Stephens. Mom and Dad wanted to honor their friends, but they also wanted me to have a name that I could use without bringing up all the history every time I signed a check."
"I see."
"I doubt you do."
"I was there, Emily. I know what Ted did, and I know what happened at the wedding. I was Steve's best man."
"Whatever."
The sound of the car changed, and Jesse guessed they were inside a large building. He reached for the blindfold, but felt her slap his hand away.
"Leave it on for now!"
"Look, Emily, I'm willing to help you, but you have to trust me."
"I know Dr. Travis, but there are people who…if they think you know…if they…"
She stopped and got out of the car. Jesse felt the door beside him open and she said, "There are people who would kill you to keep you from telling anyone where I am, and there are people who would make you wish you were dead to make you give them the same information. I need your help, but you were in danger the moment you answered that call. I'm doing the best I can under very difficult circumstances to protect you. Help me by leaving the blindfold on, ok?"
She sounded almost friendly.
"On one condition," he demanded.
"What's that?"
"Call me Jesse."
"Ok."
