(Chapter 33.  Judge Greer's courtroom and the witnesses' waiting room, July 2, 2033.)

After the judge reminded him that he was still under oath, Ron waited patiently on the witness stand while Bruce Delong consulted a sheet of paper Emily had handed him.  He couldn't tell for sure, but something about the way Delong studied the paper indicated that it was a list of questions she had told him to ask.  Despite the long list and the slight delay, Ron wasn't nearly as nervous as he had been before, mostly because Amanda had reminded him that Delong knew he was sympathetic to Emily's cause and would give him time to complete his responses. 

"Agent Wagner," Delong began, "when did you last meet with the defendant before the Gaudino trial?"

"Early February, before she was hired by the LAPD.  The exact date is in my notes if you would like to check."

Delong smiled.  "We'll take your word for that.  Judge Greer can check it during his deliberations, if he's so inclined . . . unless Mr. Bressler has any objections . . . ?"

Ron joined in the soft ripple of laughter that flowed across the courtroom until the judge silenced it with a couple of taps of his gavel.  "We know you are very clever, Mr. Delong, but one more smart comment and you will be in jail, understood?"

Bruce became very serious and said, "Yes, Your Honor.  I'm sorry, Sir."  He studied the paper Emily had given him for a moment, then almost as if reciting what he had read he said, "Think very carefully, Agent Wagner.  I want you to remember your exact words if you can."

Ron nodded, frowned for a moment, and then slowly smiled as if he knew what was coming.  Those people in the audience who could see Emily saw that she was smiling, too.

"What was the last order you gave Lieutenant Stephens before your meeting ended?"

Ron leaned forward and spoke carefully and clearly into the microphone.  "I told her, 'Get Moretti to the trial, no matter what.'"

"'Get Moretti to the trial, no matter what.'  Those were your exact words?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You're positive?"

"Yes, Sir."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because Lieutenant Stephens told me to remember.  She said, 'Remember you said that.  When I'm on trial for kidnapping him, remember you said, 'no matter what'.'  It's in my notes.  It was such a strange request I thought I should write it down.  I don't know how she knew this would happen, but apparently she had her suspicions."

Bruce smiled.  "Thank you, Agent Wagner."  Turning to the prosecution, he said, "Your witness, Mr. Bressler."

"You're still a good cop, Steve," Cheryl said.  "I don't know why you didn't see it in her, but nobody else did either, not even her husband."

"But Cheryl, I trusted her with so much . . . "

"Remember, oh, about a lifetime ago, when I got my divorce?" she interrupted.

Steve nodded, "Yeah."

"I never told you about this because I was ashamed, but he was cheating on me.  We slept in same bed every night.  He made me breakfast in the mornings.  We made love and went walking in the rain.  He . . . left me for a twenty-three-year-old UCLA co-ed who was having his baby.  He'd always told me he didn't want kids, but he just didn't want kids with me."

"Cheryl, I'm sorry.  I never knew that," Steve had gotten better at masking certain emotions over the years, so while his guts burned with a raging desire to beat his good friend's two-faced ex to a pulp, he was still able to offer her nothing but compassion and sympathy.

"Yeah, well, now you do.  My point is, sometimes we trust people.  We don't even question them, and they let us down.  It took me a long time to trust anyone again."

"Cheryl, you never remarried."

To Steve's great surprise, she laughed at him.  "I haven't been single and celibate for the past fifty years either!  I didn't marry him because I trusted him, Steve.  I married him because I loved him enough to want to spend the rest of my life with him.  I'd have stayed with him even after the affair, if he had wanted me."

Steve looked at Cheryl, and his expression clearly showed that he didn't have any idea what to say.  Then he drew his brows together, looked at the floor, and nodded slightly as if he knew exactly how she felt.

"Steve," she put a hand on his arm and he looked back at her, "you're a hell of a good cop.  If you're really ready to retire, do it, but don't let one person's betrayal drive you off the job just because it's scared you into thinking you haven't got what it takes anymore."

Steve looked back at the floor and nodded again, but this time Cheryl could tell it only meant he had heard what she was saying, not that he really believed it.

"Agent Wagner," the prosecutor asked, "after your February meeting with the defendant, did she at any time receive orders to turn custody of Mr. Moretti over to you or to the LAPD?"

Ron sighed.  He had thought he would finally be able to help Emily's case, but he was wrong.  "Yes, she did."

"Did she obey those orders?"

"No."

"Was she then considered a fugitive?"  Bressler was building a rhythm.

"Yes."  Ron knew better than to try to say more.  He could only hope to get through  this quickly.

"Was a task force assembled to find and capture her and take Mr. Moretti into custody?"

"Yes."

"Did she make repeated efforts to avoid being caught by the task force?"

"Yes."

"Did those efforts include disguises, aliases, and frequent changes of location?"

"Yes."  To Ron, his answers sounded like nails in a coffin.

"So, she hid from the task force?"

"Yes."

"She ran from you?"

"Yes."

"And she was blatantly disobeying orders?"

"Yes."  Ron's voice had gotten softer and softer as his testimony became more damning.

"Once more, just to be absolutely clear on this point, after she disregarded orders to bring Mr. Moretti in and decided instead to go on the run with him, was the defendant, Lieutenant Emily Stephens, considered a fugitive from justice, and did she, even then, continue to take special measures to avoid apprehension?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"No further questions, Your Honor."  Bressler proudly took a seat and waited to see what would happen next.

Emily scribbled a note, and as she was still writing, Bruce Delong requested, "Redirect, Your Honor?"

"Go ahead, Counselor."

Bruce frowned, nodded once, and said, "Agent Wagner, was Lieutenant Stephens ever on the payroll of the FBI?"

Ron smiled.  Suddenly he saw the reasoning behind Emily's strategy of refusing to cross examine him when he testified for the prosecution.  Now that they were recalling him, they could treat him as a defense witness, which would allow them the right to redirect his testimony, and would give them the last word on everything.  Twenty years ago, things might not have worked out this way, but Emily was a smart girl, and she was using the letter of the law to her full advantage.

"No, she was never employed by the FBI."

"So, she was never under any obligation to actually follow your orders, was she?"

"No."  Ron answered loud and clear.

"So, as far as you were concerned, she was just another citizen, and you could only hope she was trying her best to do what was right, is that a fair summary of the situation?"

"Yes."

As Ron and Bruce had been talking, Emily had been scribbling further notes.  Bruce wandered toward the table during questioning, glanced at her pad, and nodded again.  "All right, for a moment, let's just assume she was on the FBI payroll, with all the responsibilities, protection, and benefits that entails.  Is there ever a time when it is considered appropriate for an agent of the FBI to disobey orders from a superior?"

Ron couldn't hide his grin.  "Yes.  I can give you two examples that are relevant to this case."

"Please do," Bruce encouraged him, "and tell us what would happen to the agent in question after the assignment was over."

"Well, if an order comes into direct conflict with the primary objective of an agent's assignment, it is considered appropriate to disobey orders.  For example, if following those orders would endanger a witness the agent was assigned to protect, the agent could probably disobey orders, and the behavior would be excused.  Also, if obeying orders would compromise an ongoing investigation, the agent could quite likely disregard them without being punished.  For example, if an operation were underway to flush out a suspect or a corrupt element within the command structure, and following orders would allow the individual or individuals to remain hidden, an agent would not only be allowed, but expected to disobey, or at least delay compliance with those orders."

As he talked, Ron relaxed, but his voice began to wear out.  Ever considerate, Bruce poured him a glass of water from the pitcher on the defense table and waited patiently while he drank it.  Ron handed the glass back and nodded his gratitude when Bruce refilled it and sat it on the coaster that was placed on the small shelf by the witness stand.

When he spoke again, the defense attorney's tone was thoughtful.  "Surely there must be some sort of procedure for determining whether or not the agent in question was actually acting in the spirit of his or her assignment.  Otherwise, there would be no deterrent to keep people from ignoring any order they just didn't like."

"Yes, there is a procedure," Ron confirmed.  "For minor disobedience, the agent's superior may deal with the situation.  When a severe breach of conduct occurs, we have an internal hearing to determine whether the agent's actions constitute disobedience or criminal behavior.  If the behavior is ruled criminal, the case is referred to the United States Attorney."

"You mean Mr. Bressler?"

"Or his colleagues, yes."

"Who decides whether a breach of conduct is minor or severe enough to warrant an internal hearing?"

"The agent's superior."

"So, if Lieutenant Stephens were working for the FBI, these proceedings would have compromised her right to due process, is that correct?"

Ron was thoughtful for a moment and then said, "Yes, Sir."

"And if she were working for the FBI, would you have been her supervisor?"

"Yes."

"Would you have referred her behavior to an internal hearing?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because she accomplished her objective without harming any civilians."

"So, if she had been on the FBI's payroll, do you think we would be here in court today?"

"Probably not."

A few minutes later, Agent Ron Wagner came rolling out of the courtroom looking like the cat that got the cream.  Not long after that, a very confused Deputy Chief of Police Steve Sloan walked in and took his seat on the witness stand.

"Chief Sloan," Bruce Delong began once Steve had settled himself, "in earlier testimony, it was established that Lieutenant Stephens was repeatedly ordered to turn Mr. Moretti over to police custody.  Do you recall that?"

"Yes," Steve replied disgustedly.

"And you also recall that a task force was put in place to find her and Mr. Moretti, correct?"

"Yes."  Steve was already becoming frustrated.  He didn't understand why Delong was reprising testimony that the prosecution had already pried from him.

"And the Lieutenant continued to take very active steps to elude the task force, did she not?"

"Yes."  The burning in Steve's stomach surged and abated with every incriminating reply.

"Did you think Mr. Moretti was in danger of being harmed by her?"

Steve hesitated in his answer this time.  He wasn't sure what to say.  Finally, he said, "I didn't know what to think.  I . . . I have a history with her parents, and I know what kind of people they are, so I believed she was raised with a strong moral background and a sense of personal responsibility.  Also, when I hired her for the LAPD, I had a very good feeling about her.  Her employment history and police training were extremely impressive, and when I interviewed her, she handled herself very well.  I didn't think she would harm Mr. Moretti, but I wasn't one hundred percent sure."

"You hired her on February 14, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And Mr. Moretti was taken on March 3, correct?"

"Yes."

"And you organized the task force to locate the defendant and Mr. Moretti on March 6, correct?"

"Yes.  It's standard procedure."

"In an apparent kidnapping, you mean?"

More confused than ever because the defense seemed to be fishing for damning evidence, Steve said, "Yes, it's standard procedure in an apparent kidnapping."

Emily sat at the defense table smiling, and when Delong turned to her, she nodded.

"Why, then, did you change procedure when you met with the defendant in front of Mann's Chinese Theatre on March 17?"

"Because she had approached me on the beach the previous day with information that my personal assistant was actually a Mafia informant who was spying on me and the police department.  That day, I developed a plan to flush out the corrupt individuals in the LAPD, including my assistant, and I needed the Lieutenant's help."  Steve really had no idea where the questioning was going, but it seemed to be headed in a better direction now, if only because it allowed him to talk about the good things Emily had done.

"And you trusted her, even though she was technically a fugitive?"

"Yes, I suppose I did."

"You trusted her, an apparently corrupt cop whom you'd met barely a month before, over a woman with whom you had worked closely on a daily basis for years."

Delong was confusing him again, but Steve answered honestly, "Yes."

"Why?"

"Why?"  Steve frowned, at a loss.  "I . . . I really don't know.  Like I said, I knew her background, her parents, and I had a feeling about her."

"Why did you have this feeling?  What did she do that made her seem trustworthy?"

"It's hard to pin down exactly.  It has more to do with how she acted than with what she did," Steve tried to explain.  "It was the way she carried herself, the way she talked.  It was clear to me that she knew she was on the right side, so she wasn't worried about what people would think.  The fact that she chose to be a cop, despite being a multimillionaire in her own right and standing to inherit a sizeable fortune from her parents as well, said a lot about her character.  In her interview, she was very direct and forthright, and seemed to place a high value on honesty.  She was relaxed and calm and maintained eye contact.  She seemed to have nothing to hide."

"She must have made quite an impression on you, because you even trusted her after she kidnapped Mr. Moretti.  Why?"

Steve sighed deeply, and thought hard.  Clearly, Delong was looking for something specific, and he hadn't said it yet.  Whatever it was, he dearly wanted to say it, if it could help Em.  Finally, he answered, "If Lieutenant Stephens had intended to kill Mr. Moretti for payment, he never would have left the federal safe-house alive.  She'd have skipped town, with the money, by sundown, and we never would have heard from her again.  If she had kidnapped him to sell to the highest bidder, someone he could incriminate, again, she would have left LA with her money, and that would have been the last we ever saw of her.  Within the week, we would have found Moretti's body, killed in some dramatic fashion and dumped in some very public place as a warning to others who might think to testify against the Mob."

"But none of that ever happened, did it?"

"No, Sir," Steve replied, "as far as we could tell, she was still keeping Mr. Moretti safe.  She had promised to keep checking in, and she kept her word about that.  She was very reliable about the things she had told us she would do.  The few times we got close to catching her, she found a clever way, not a violent way, to escape.  Her actions were consistent with her wanting to do the right thing, even when she wasn't sure what that was."

"And so, you trusted her."

"Yes, I trusted her, because I believed she had Mr. Moretti's best interests at heart."

"And on March 17, you met her outside of Mann's Chinese Theatre.  Would you tell us why and what happened then?"

Steve again explained his plan to flush out the corrupt cops on the force using Emily and Moretti as bait.  He talked about Emily's instructions for how he was to get the plan to her, and how she, disguised as a tourist dressed as See-Threepio, the golden robot from Star Wars, had managed to get the envelope containing the explanation of his plan out of his pocket without him knowing.

"Then what happened?" Delong asked.

Steve told how he had lingered around to try to find and talk to Emily.  He described how he knew she was the one dressed in western gear when he realized she had skipped Tom Mix's place on the sidewalk.  Then he reluctantly told about how ill he had suddenly become once he spoke to her and how he had collapsed on the sidewalk vomiting blood.

"And when you collapsed, Chief Sloan, what did the Lieutenant do?"

"My memory's a little hazy on some of this," he said, "I don't really remember everything that happened."

"That's ok.  Do your best."

"She called an ambulance," Steve said slowly as he closed his eyes and tried to reassemble events in his mind.  "I remember her searching me and taking my phone out of my pocket.  She tried to make me comfortable and keep me calm.  I remember hearing sirens, and I told her to go, but she stayed a little longer, to make sure I wouldn't be left alone until the ambulance came." 

Suddenly the memories came flowing back, and he could see it all again.  Unfortunately, he could feel it again, too, though not so intensely as the first time around.  "She enlisted some bystanders and instructed them on how to take care of me," he gasped.  Still with his eyes closed, he took several deep breaths and willed himself to relax.  Then he opened his eyes so the images in his mind would not be so vivid. 

"A man was there with his wife and kids.  He was from Minnesota.  Lieutenant Stephens had him send his family away, so it wouldn't upset the children, and then when he came back to help, she gave him a handkerchief to wipe my mouth and told him to keep me talking.  She got a woman who was dressed as Marilyn Monroe to kneel behind me and rub my back and make sure I stayed on my side so I didn't choke if I passed out.  She made sure I'd be ok before she went anywhere."

"That's quite a lot of detail," Delong said.  "I thought you said your memory was hazy."

Steve frowned, wondering why Delong was questioning his statement.  "I thought it was.  I didn't realize how much I recalled of it until I started thinking back, but it's all there.  The guy from Minnesota asked me if the Lieutenant was my daughter.  I saw the wheels of the gurney, and then I passed out."

"But you are sure you remember the events of that day as they happened, is that correct?"

"Yes, that is correct.  I remember just what happened that day."

"Good.  I need to be very sure you remember that, so I will ask you once more.  Are you certain your memories of those events are accurate?"

Steve blew out a puff of air and looked exasperated.  "Yes, Counselor, I am certain, sure, and positive that my memories of those events are quite accurate."

"Thank you, Chief.  I just needed to confirm that.  Now, in her deposition, the Lieutenant testified that she asked you a question after she told you the ambulance was on the way.  Do you remember what she asked?"

A slow smile spread across Steve's face.  Finally, he saw where Delong had been going with his questions.  "Yes, I remember."

"What was it?"

"She asked me what orders I had for her."

"And what did you tell her?"

"I told her to look after her witness.  He was too important to put at risk."

"Did you tell her to turn herself in to the task force?"

"No."

"Did you tell her to turn Mr. Moretti over to the FBI?"

"No."

"Did you tell her to come out of hiding and to quit trying to elude the police and the FBI?"

"No."

"So what did you intend for her to do when you told her to . . . did you say 'look after' the witness?"

"I did say 'look after', and I meant for her to stay in hiding and to protect Mr. Moretti from any threat to his safety until she brought him in to testify in the Gaudino trial."

"And did she do so?"

"Yes."

"So, despite what had happened before, on March 17 when you spoke with her at Mann's Chinese Theatre and told her to look after her witness, would you say that Lieutenant Stevens was still under your command and following your orders?"

"Yes," Steve confirmed, "I most definitely would."

Bruce Delong inclined his head and said, "Thank you, Chief Sloan.  I have no further questions at this time, Your Honor."

The Judge looked at the prosecutor and said, "Your witness, Mr. Bressler."

Bressler took a few moments to compose his thoughts before he started questioning Steve.  He had made a few notes on a sheet of paper during Steve's testimony, and he was clearly trying to use them to organize his questions so that he made the most effective presentation possible.  Finally, the prosecutor looked at Steve and asked, "Chief Sloan, is it true that you ordered Lieutenant Stephens to turn Mr. Moretti over to police custody when you met with her in Peck Park on March 5?"

"Yes."

"And she refused?"

"Yes."

"And was she wearing a disguise when she encountered one of your officers, Charles Donovan, who was looking for her on March 6?"

"From what I understand, yes."

"And Officer Donovan reported to you that he showed her a picture of herself and asked if she had seen the woman in question?"

"Yes."

"Did she reveal herself to be the woman in the photograph?"

"No."

"Did you contact her answering service as she requested and tell her to bring Mr. Moretti to this very courtroom by nine o'clock in the morning on March 15?"

"Yes."

"Did she do so?"

"No, but she did appear, in disguise, and then sent me a message by the janitor.  She knew the phony trial we had arranged was a trap to get her and Mr. Moretti."

"Yes, well, that's neither here nor there.  Did she bring Mr. Moretti into the courtroom as ordered on march 15?"

Steve's stomach burned at being forced again to incriminate Emily.  "No, she did not."

"When she approached you on the beach on March 16, didn't she run from you yet again?"

"Yes, after informing me that my civilian assistant, Leigh Ann Bergman, was probably a danger to Mr. Moretti."

"And you took her word for this?"

"Yes."

"I see."  Bressler grew thoughtful again.  After a few silent moments during which he walked back to the prosecution's table, checked his notes, and ticked something off, he came back to stand before Steve and asked, "I understand that when you met with Lieutenant Stephens in Peck Park she threatened you with annihilation ammunition and laser sights, is that true?"

"There was only one round of annihilation ammunition in the coin return of the phone booth."

"From what I understand, one round is all it takes."

"Yes, that's true," Steve agreed, "but it needs to be shot out of a gun.  And the 'laser sights' were really just laser pointers you can buy in any office supply store, mounted on tripods and controlled by infrared remotes."

"But you sincerely believed there were gunmen with annihilation ammunition who had their weapons trained on you at the time, is that correct?"

"Yes, I did.  It was only when we found the tripods that we realized she had gone out of her way to avoid placing me in any real danger."

"But while you were talking to her, you believed you were under a very real threat of death, is that correct?"

Reluctantly, Steve admitted, "Yes."

Bressler frowned and nodded, and he walked back to his table and ticked something off on his notes.  He took a moment and read what remained on his pad, then turned, and walked back to Steve once again.

"I'm sure you realize, Chief Sloan, that I was listening very carefully to your testimony while Mr. Delong questioned you.  You spoke very highly of Lieutenant Stephens, extolling her virtues, her integrity, her reliability, and above all, her honesty.  You were very sincere in your testimony, Chief, but I have to be honest and tell you, something about it didn't ring true."

"Your Honor," Bruce Delong began to object, but this time, Bressler kept talking.

"I am not accusing him of perjury yet, Mr. Delong," Bressler said, "I just think there was something missing in his testimony, and I am trying to nail down what exactly it was."

"Then nail it down quickly, Mr. Bressler," Judge Greer said, "or pursue another line of inquiry."

"Yes, Sir," Bressler said.  He turned back to Steve.  "The whole time you were speaking, Chief, there was something on the edge of my consciousness that kept telling me what you were saying was wrong.  I couldn't pin down how or why it was wrong, and I don't believe you were lying, but I knew something was off."  Bressler looked at Steve and asked innocently, "Is that what the police call a hunch?"

Steve eyed the man testily and said, "Yes, something like that."

"I suppose in your long career you've had a lot of hunches, haven't you?"

Steve nodded, "Yes, I have."

"And most of them have paid off?"

"Yes."

"And you had a hunch about the Lieutenant?"

"Yes."

"That's what struck me as odd, a man of your experience having a 'hunch' that the defendant was trustworthy, and being so far wrong.  I couldn't figure out how that could happen, but then you said it yourself.  When talking about her interview, you said, 'She seemed to have nothing to hide.'  Do you recall saying that?"

"Y-yes," Steve said a bit reluctantly and breathed deeply, trying to calm his nervous stomach.

"The fact is, even at the interview, she was hiding quite a lot from you, wasn't she?"

Steve frowned.  "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

Bressler smiled indulgently.  "See, there you go, I knew you wouldn't sit here in court and lie to us, you've just forgotten, maybe because your personal relationship to the defendant's parents has biased you in her favor, maybe because your son's relationship to her has done so.  But I really do believe you have no idea what I'm talking about.  Would that be a hunch as well?"

"Your Honor," Bruce Delong objected, "The fact is, at the moment, none of us have any idea what Mr. Bressler is talking about, and I happen to have a hunch that I will be objecting again if he doesn't get to the point quickly."

"I have to say I agree, Mr. Bressler, and if you fail to do so, I will have this entire line of questioning stricken from the record."

"Yes, Your Honor, I'm sorry for the delay, but I needed to be sure the Chief was actually ignorant of what is to come before I questioned him on it.  Otherwise, he may well have unwittingly perjured himself."

A ripple of surprise moved through the courtroom at Bressler's remark.  Steve's eyes opened wide in shock, and he flinched in pain as his stomach, which had not been particularly calm through the meandering and seemingly pointless questioning now, yelped at the unwelcome surprise.  He couldn't believe Emily had any secrets left, but that appeared to be what Bressler was leading up to.

"You said the Lieutenant 'appeared to have nothing to hide' at her interview, but isn't it a fact that, even then, she was concealing important facts from you.  At that time she never mentioned that she was already cooperating with Agent Wagner on an FBI operation, did she?"

"No," Steve said.

"And she never told you she was dating your son, either, did she?"

"No, but I don't see how that was relevant to her being hired."

"Nor do I, but she'd been dating him for five months, and living with him for over a month, according to his deposition, and you'd never met her.  That's quite a secret to be keeping, and she even enlisted your own son to help her."

"It was actually my son's idea," Steve said.  "He was worried that if she knew who I was she'd be nervous about applying, or, if she got hired, think that he had swayed me to hire her."

"I suppose that could have been the case, though I doubt there's much that can make the defendant nervous, and she seems to have enough confidence in her abilities that she would never consider that she might have needed . . . the recommendation of a friend to get the job."

"Your Honor!" Bruce objected again.

Before the judge could rule, Bressler said lightly, "Withdrawn," and he continued with his questioning.  "Chief, the Lieutenant was also hiding from you a number of prior arrests and seven federal convictions, wasn't she?"

"Juvenile records are sealed, and she was under no obligation to disclose those convictions to me."

"But she was tried and convicted as an adult, Chief."

"She was still a juvenile at the time, Mr. Bressler, so her records were sealed."

"And she elected not to disclose those convictions to you, correct?"

"Correct."

"So, she was keeping three rather important secrets from you, and yet she 'seemed to have nothing to hide' as far as you were concerned."

"That is correct, but the things you have mentioned had no bearing on her ability to do her job."

"Oh, I'm not worried about the defendant's ability to do her job, Chief, I'm worried about your ability to do yours.  You seem willing to give Lieutenant Stephens the benefit of far too many doubts.  You sit here telling us you trusted her; you had a feeling about her.  Yet, from the moment you met her, she was deceiving you, and you still sit before us, telling us, under oath, that you believe she had no intention of harming Mr. Moretti.  Isn't it possible, Chief Sloan, just possible, that she has been using you all along?  Isn't it possible that only when she realized there was no way she could get away with eliminating Mr. Moretti did she decide to turn herself in and to remand him to the police for protection?"

Murmurs of surprise and curiosity filled the air.  The judge banged his gavel twice, and Steve leaned toward the microphone and said, "No, I don't believe it's possible.  Emily wouldn't do that."

"You say that because you trust her."

"Yes, and I trust her even more now than I did before because I know her."

"There's another woman you thought you knew and trusted who betrayed you recently, isn't there, Chief?"

Again, whispers broke the silence.  Steve closed his eyes for a moment, composing himself before he replied.  Finally, he spoke into the microphone, "Leigh Ann Bergman, yes."

"She hated you, didn't she?"

"Yes."

"Did you know it?"

"No."

"Not until she tried to kill you, eh?  Did you know she was a Mafia informant?"

"No, not until Lieutenant Stephens told me."

"Ms. Bergman wanted to destroy your career, didn't she?"

"Yes."

"Yet, you worked with her for years, and you trusted her, didn't you?"

"Yes."  Again, Steve felt a tiny surge in the burning sensation in his guts with every answer.

"You never saw any indication that she wanted to ruin you or that she was a traitor to your cause, did you?"

"No."

"So, you were wrong about her and about her intentions, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Could you be wrong about the defendant, too?"

The whole room waited anxiously while Steve closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and composed himself.  He took so long, the judge inquired, "Chief Sloan, does Mr. Bressler need to repeat the question?"

Steve shook his head and continued to sit there, eyes closed, thinking, or meditating, or perhaps praying, no one could really tell.  Then he squared his shoulders, opened his eyes, and leaned forward to speak clearly into the microphone.

"Earlier today, I might have agreed with you, Mr. Bressler, that my instincts were somehow lacking," he confessed.  "Then a friend pointed out to me that, quite often, the people who are closest to us are the ones who can most easily betray us because we have already given them our trust.  I have been a cop for over half a century now, and I have trusted a few people I shouldn't have, but by and large, my instincts are good.  When I make a decision about a person based on a gut feeling, I am usually right.  The fact that Mr. Moretti was there to testify at the Gaudino trial and the simple fact that I walked out of this very courtroom on that day prove that I was right about Lieutenant Stephens."

"But isn't it . . . "

Steve continued talking, not permitting Bressler to interrupt this time.  "She never, ever intended to harm Mr. Moretti.  She was just determined to do what she set out to accomplish, which was bring him safely to testify in the trial of Vinnie Gaudino.  When my orders conflicted with her objective, she was forced to make a decision: obey me, or protect her witness.  In my opinion, she made the right choice, and if this matter had been left to the LAPD to resolve, no charges would have been filed."

When Steve quit talking, he looked to Emily, and saw admiration and silent gratitude shining in her eyes.  The room remained silent for several long moments, and then the Judge asked, "Do you have any further questions, Mr. Bressler?"

Bressler's shoulders slumped.  He knew he'd just lost the case.  "No further questions, your honor."

"Redirect, Mr. Delong?"

"No, thank you, Your Honor, I think Chief Sloan has already said everything that needed saying."

Cheryl's testimony was very straightforward and went quickly with neither the prosecution nor the defense bogging down in fine and delicate details to help make a dramatic point.  The audience was amused by what she described as 'Lieutenant Stephens' Spiderman tactics' of leaving the bad guys behind, tied up and with a note attached.  When Bruce asked if she minded Emily's apprehending half a dozen suspects for them and then disappearing into the night, she had to say that, on the contrary, she would be ashamed not to be grateful for anything that reduced the risks to her and the men under her command.

When Bressler cross-examined her, he asked only a few cursory questions to reestablish the fact that Emily had not turned Moretti over when ordered to do so.  He also verified that she had not actually followed her own plan as she had described it to her superiors via the computer program she had pressed into Cheryl's hand in the first sting operation when Emily and Moretti had helped flush out five corrupt cops by pretending she was sick and he was bringing her in for medical attention.

Moretti's testimony was very cut and dried, which surprised even him, considering how he felt about Emily and how much she had done for him while he was in her custody.  Once Bruce Delong established that Moretti would have gone with Emily willingly had he not been drugged before he had the opportunity to decide, he ended his questioning and let Bressler have his turn.  When Bressler tried to get Moretti to agree that since he had been drugged before he was taken from the safe house, he must have been kidnapped, Moretti gave the matter some thought and said, "Well, I asked Wagner to get me out of the safe house alive.  I didn't tell him how to do it.  I guess, since she was workin' under his instructions, she was just doin' what I asked.  As ya can see, I am definitely alive."

When Moretti came out of the courtroom smiling, Steve opened his phone and dialed Tanis.  "Tanis, it's Steve.  Hold that story until tomorrow for me, ok?  Things look like they might be turning around."

Emily took the stand at four in the afternoon.

"Lieutenant Stephens," Bruce began after she had been sworn in, "Please tell us how you came to infiltrate a conspiracy to kidnap Giancarlo Moretti from the FBI safe house where he was being held pending the Vincent Gaudino trial."

"Well, my first classes in California Law started at the academy in September, and it was on a break when I happened to overhear Martin Rossi on his cell phone . . . "

Taking frequent sips from her water, Emily talked for about ten minutes telling how she had first heard of Rossi's plan.  She had initially threatened to blackmail him, and then demanded to be included for part of the cut.  When it turned out he knew about her wealth and didn't believe she wanted the money, she had managed to convince him that she was just interested in the thrills, referring to her infection with the BioGen virus, saying, "When you've already died, what's the thrill in living, unless you're living dangerously."

She'd never met Rossi's employer, whom she now knew to be Roger Gorini, but when the opportunity arose, she managed to contact him using Rossi's cell phone.  While Rossi was otherwise occupied, she told him all the little things she thought Rossi was doing wrong and what she would do to make the plan better.  She told the contact it was Rossi's fault the team wasn't gelling properly, and insisted that the kidnapping plot would fail if he were left in charge.

Less than an hour later, Rossi got a call from his contact asking him what he planned to do about the problems she had outlined.  When he had no satisfactory answers the contact had demanded that 'the woman' be put on the phone, and he had put Emily in charge on the spot.  By that time, she had met with Agent Wagner, and he had asked her to get as deep into the plot as she could, and she figured she couldn't go much deeper than running the plan . . .

"We trained hard for weeks, and, much to my surprise, the operation went off without a hitch until Rossi decided to kill me.  I saw his eyes narrow just before he pulled the trigger, and I was able to move so he hit my shoulder instead of my chest.  I took off with Moretti in the back of the van, and suddenly, I was on my own."

Emily closed her eyes and rubbed her chest as the memories of those first few panicky hours set her heart to pounding.  When it happened, the heightened tension and the accompanying adrenaline rush had been almost exhilarating.  Now, they were merely painful.  She heard quiet, concerned murmurs throughout the courtroom, but for once Judge Greer did not bang his gavel.

"Lieutenant, are you quite all right?" Greer asked.

Emily nodded.  "I just need a moment, Sir," she gasped.  Draining her water glass, she then handed it to Bruce to refill, and while he was occupied, she took a deep breath and willed herself to relax.  Squaring her shoulders, she spared a glance for her worried friends and family before facing her lawyer to say, "I'm ready to continue."

"Why didn't you go directly to Agent Wagner or Chief Sloan for help?" Bruce asked.

"Well, I figured Rossi, Marino, and Velasquez were just the tip of the iceberg.  If they were so easy to flush out, there had to be more corrupt cops buried deep in the department.  Moretti wasn't safe until someone got them out in the open and put them in jail.  I trusted Chief Sloan, and to a lesser extent, Agent Wagner and Commander Banks, but I couldn't trust the people who were working for them, so I couldn't safely turn Moretti over to them."

"And is that why you disobeyed orders to bring him in?"

"Yes.  My assignment was to get Mr. Moretti safely to the Gaudino trial, no matter what.  Anything that conflicted with that was irrelevant."

"Now, you are accused of stealing cell phones from a number of people.  You have stipulated to the testimony of most of those witnesses, and have done nothing to impeach the word of the four who were called to testify, yet you are pleading not guilty to the charges.  Can you explain that?"

"Yes, Sir.  I don't deny taking the cell phones, so it made sense to stipulate to the testimony of those witnesses.  I do, however, object to calling what I did theft.  The police, the National Guard, and all of the armed services are allowed to commandeer civilian property in a crisis.  Usually they are required to tell why, but under the circumstances, it was impossible for me to do so without compromising Mr. Moretti's safety.  I did the best I could under very difficult circumstances.  I might have inconvenienced some citizens, but no one was hurt, and I tried to return all the items I took.  I wish it hadn't been necessary, because when something personal like that just disappears, it makes people feel a little less secure, but I couldn't think of any other viable options for staying in touch without being tracked back to my location.  I decided to plead not guilty to the charges, and trust the court to decide whether it was theft or merely commandeering the items I needed to complete my assignment."

Emily went on to talk about life in hiding with Moretti.  She told about the different names under which she rented apartments and purchased vehicles, and she talked about helping Moretti lose weight and improve his stamina in case he had to go on the run again any time soon.  She discussed the two sting operations that netted five dirty cops and six mafia thugs, including Joey Russo, who led them to Roger Gorini's secret apartment in the warehouse.  She tried to tell them about drugging Harold, the janitor, on her first visit to the courthouse, but Bruce interrupted her.

"And on the fifteenth, I came here early to see if the trial was legitimate or just a trap to get Mr. Moretti and me into custody.  I . . . "

"Your Honor, may I confer with my client!"  Bruce covered the microphone and turned it off before the judge could rule.  He knew whispering to her on the stand in the middle of her testimony would look incriminating, but if he didn't shut her up, she would definitely go to jail.

"Briefly, Mr. Delong."

Leaning forward, Bruce whispered, "Dammit, Em, I told you not to go into that here."

"But I'm trying to show remorse," she murmured back.

Bruce muttered something unintelligible and said softly, "No, you're not, you're letting your conscience get ahead of your common sense and trying to assuage your guilt for frightening the old man.  You can't afford a conscience right now.  If you want to say you're sorry, tell him in person, not on the stand.  That matter was not brought before the court, and probably won't be if you just keep your mouth shut about it.  If you go telling the court how sorry you are for drugging the janitor against his will and leaving him locked in a closet while you impersonated him, you are confessing to assault under oath, and Bressler will have your ass in jail by sunset."

"But Bruce, I just  . . . "

He held up one finger to silence her and hissed.  "One more word about this, Em, and I will quit right now, I swear it.  If you want to go to jail, you go right ahead and purge your guilt.  If you want to go home, you shut up about the janitor and do what I tell you.  If you really need to tell him you're sorry, you can buy him a nice fruit basket when this is all over.  Understand?"

Surprised by the firm stand Bruce was taking, Emily just nodded meekly.  Bruce turned on the microphone and stepped away.

"On March 15, you found that the trial Chief Sloan had told you about was bogus, correct?"

"Yes," Emily replied, obviously not pleased that she was being muzzled on this.

"And what did you do?"

"I went back into hiding with Mr. Moretti."

"And it was after that when you discovered Chief Sloan's assistant was actually one of the leaks in the LAPD, correct?"

"Yes.  And then we did the two sting operations, and after that Mr. Moretti and I decided to lie low until the trial."

"Now, on the day of the trial you snuck Mr. Moretti into Judge Greer's chambers through the ventilation system, didn't you?"

"Yes." 

"Then what did you do?"

"I was wearing a disguise.  I came into the courtroom and watched the trial."

"Why were you wearing a disguise?"

"I suspected that I would be arrested on sight, and I wanted to be sure there was at least one person there whom I knew could and would protect Mr. Moretti until he testified.  The only person I absolutely knew I could count on was myself, so I stayed in character until the testimony was over.  I never counted on the shooting starting after the verdict."

Bruce considered having her describe the shooting, but when he glanced down and saw the small mound of shredded tissue in her lap, he decided the benefit to the case wasn't worth the strain it would put on his client.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Stephens," he said, gently patting her hand.  Turning to face the prosecution, and saying a prayer that he wouldn't get her talking about the janitor, Bruce said, "Your witness, Mr. Bressler."

Bressler did his level best to impeach Emily's testimony, but since she never denied any of her actions, he didn't have much luck.

"Did you have Mr. Moretti's permission to take him away from the FBI safe house on March 3?"

"No, Sir, he was unconscious before I had the chance to ask him."

"He was unconscious because a member of your team used chloroform to knock him out, correct?"

"Yes."

"So, if we define kidnapping as taking an individual somewhere without his or her consent, you kidnapped Mr. Moretti, did you not?"

"I suppose," Emily said incredulously, and she continued amid the startled murmurs of the crowd, "but if that's all it took to constitute kidnapping, every time a parent put an unwilling child to bed, the FBI would be called in.  Webster's defines it as, 'to seize and detain or carry away by unlawful force or fraud and often with a demand for ransom.'  That usage goes back to 1682."

As Bressler gave her a disbelieving look, she tapped her temple and said, "Photographic memory.  I looked it up when we started preparing for this trial.  I like to know the parameters in which I am working."

"All right then, what about Dr. Jesse Travis?  Didn't you take him at gunpoint from the parking lot of Community General hospital?" 

"I did point a gun at him, and I did take him from the parking lot; but when I called, I told him to meet me there with all the things he would need to treat a gunshot wound.  I wouldn't be inclined to say I forced him or that he came with me unwillingly or without his consent."

The cross examination went on in a similar fashion until almost five o'clock, with Bressler trying to get Emily to confess to at least one of the charges, and Emily neatly countering with perfectly frank and honest answers, never denying her actions, but never admitting they were wrong either.  Now, when he wanted the a witness to ramble on so he could pick at the small flaws in her story, she gave him the monosyllabic answers he had tried to limit his witnesses to earlier in the trial.  To the people in the courtroom, it very much appeared as if she were slowly beating him into submission as he went from stalking the open area before the bench like a cat on the prowl to sitting slouched behind the prosecution's table, elbows on the tabletop, head propped up in his hands.  Finally, grasping at straws, Bressler asked, "Did you steal a cell phone from any one of the individuals on the list of victims I submitted to this court?"

"I took cell phones from a number of individuals without their knowledge or consent," Emily explained patiently.  "I'm not sure if they are the people on your list or not.  I believe I was doing what was necessary to complete my assignment.  Whether that constitutes stealing or commandeering necessary resources is something I am leaving up to Judge Greer to decide."

Finally, Bressler sighed, leaned back in his seat, threw up his hands, and said, "No further questions."

Judge Greer looked at the prosecutor blandly and then turned to Bruce and asked, "Redirect, Mr. Delong?"

"Yes, thank you, Your Honor."

First Bruce asked a lot of yes or no questions to summarize Emily's testimony.

"Did you drug Mr. Giancarlo Moretti with chloroform, and, with the assistance of Martin Rossi, John Velasquez, and Donald Marino remove him from an FBI safe house?"

"Yes."

"Did you do so at the request of Agent Ron Wagner?"

"Yes."

"Did he ask you to do so because he believed Mr. Moretti was no longer safe at the location from which you removed him?"

"Yes."

"Were Rossi, Marino, and Velasquez also involved at the request of Agent Wagner?"

"No, they were kidnapping Mr. Moretti for hire on behalf of another individual."

"Whom the police have now identified as the late Roger Gorini, correct?"

"Yes."

"Was Agent Wagner's plan for you to move Mr. Moretti to a safer location and then flush out the individual who had hired Rossi, Marino, and Velasquez?"

"Yes, but when Rossi tried to kill me, that plan fell apart."

"Why didn't you just turn Mr. Moretti over to the LAPD then?"

"Because I had promised Agent Wagner to protect Mr. Moretti, no matter what, and at the time, I wasn't sure if there were other dirty cops involved.  I had no way of knowing if he'd actually be safe with the LAPD."

"So, you went into hiding, and when Chief Sloan ordered you to bring him in, you chose to disobey orders and keep him hidden instead, correct?"

"Yes.  I could not, in good conscience, turn him over to Chief Sloan until I knew any other corrupt cops in the LAPD had been exposed and jailed so that they couldn't harm Mr. Moretti."

"Were you aware that you were considered a wanted fugitive at that point?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you continue to evade the police?"

"Because I knew turning myself in and handing Mr. Moretti over to police protection would jeopardize his safety."

"Didn't it also jeopardize your career, and possibly your freedom?"

"I suppose so, but considering I am already independently wealthy, my job was a small price to pay."

"And what about your freedom?  You must have some regard for that."

"Of course I do."

Suddenly, the rhythm of the question and answer was shattered when Emily had to stop and think about what she wanted to say.  "I treasure my freedom.  Due to illness and bad decisions, my freedom was sorely limited on three different occasions for a total of about six years.  That's almost twenty percent of my life, nearly half my adult life."

She fell silent again for a moment, and took a few sips of water as she struggled to find a way to explain why she had risked everything for an aging mobster.  "When you are responsible for another human being, when you take responsibility for another person's life, well, you have to be willing to put that above everything.  When you weigh a man's life," she held out her left hand as if feeling the weight in her palm, "against anything else, even your own freedom," she held out her right hand like the other half of a balance scale, "that life has to be worth more."  She let her left hand sink as if it were the heavier of the two objects and brought her right hand up, closed it, and curled against her chest.  "If you can see things any other way, then there's not much point in saying you are protecting someone, because there is no way of knowing, when push comes to shove, if you will do what it takes to keep him safe."

"So you were willing to take any risk to keep Mr. Moretti safe?"

"Well, yes and no," She stopped and sipped some more water to give herself time to think.  "Any risk to myself was acceptable.  I had agreed with Agent Wagner to do a job, and I was determined to get it done properly, no matter what.  I wasn't surprised to be arrested later, and I am not surprised that we are here now.  The prospect of going to jail does frighten me, but Giancarlo Moretti is alive, and Vincent Gaudino is in jail, and I helped make that happen.  On the other hand, I had no intention of ever endangering any civilians."

"What about Dr. Travis?" Judge Greer interrupted for the first time that day, which was his prerogative since Emily had given up her right to a jury trial.  "You admit to taking him at gunpoint."

Emily blushed slightly and smiled, "Actually I asked for Dr. Steven Sloan first.  I figured since he was my boyfriend, he would probably come willingly, but he had already left for the day.  I knew Dr. Travis had been involved in police investigations before, and I knew he'd seen some pretty hairy situations in the past, so I figured he would be more able to cope than other doctors if my circumstance suddenly became difficult before he was through treating me."

"But you took him at gunpoint, didn't you?"

"Yes, Sir.  I suspected he would have gone with me quite willingly if I had asked nicely.  Now that I know him better, I am sure that would have been the case, but at the time, I needed help and I couldn't risk him saying no."

"I see."  The judge frowned.  He had the distinct impression that there was more to the story than met the eye, but unless the prosecution could prove it, he could do nothing about it.  He couldn't deny that she had done everything possible to limit the danger to innocent citizens, but he realized that she had manipulated the system, and he didn't like it.  The fact that Dr. Travis hadn't pressed charges for kidnapping only proved to Greer that he would have gone willingly had he been allowed to choose.  He suspected that Lieutenant Stephens had used the gun just for show so that if he was questioned, the doctor could say he was forced.  He didn't like the idea that Dr. Travis had been able to aid and abet a fugitive with impunity, and it worried him that Lieutenant Stephens could actually think that many steps ahead of the police and the courts.  If she really was corrupt, and if she really was as clever as she seemed, then he and his court, the prosecutor and the defense attorney, and the law itself could all be pawns in a larger game she was playing without their knowledge, and he liked that idea least of all.  Of course, he knew Giancarlo Moretti wouldn't have pressed kidnapping charges either, had he been given a choice, but as a federal witness, it was no longer his decision to make.

"You may resume your questioning, Mr. Delong," the judge pronounced.

"I have just one more question, Your Honor."  Bruce turned to Emily and asked, "Lieutenant Stephens, did you at any time have any intention of harming Mr. Moretti or turning him over to any individual who was likely to harm him?"

"No, Sir, never."

Bruce turned to face Judge Greer.  "I have no further questions for this witness, Your Honor, and no further witnesses to call.  The defense rests."

The judge looked at his watch and then at both lawyers.  "It is nearing six o'clock, but I want this trial finished today.  I am declaring a thirty-minute recess.  When we come back, I will hear closing statements.  Lieutenant Stephens, you are dismissed from the witness stand."