Punish

Gina studied John's profile and sighed. Anger, she was used to. She could deal with his ego and attitude quite nicely. But this...? In all the time she'd known him, John had always worn his emotions visibly. As a child, he'd been an extremely easy person to 'read' -- and that certainly hadn't changed courtesy of Frax -- so this blank look had to be deliberate to mask something else.

"John, what's wrong?" Gina asked quietly.

"Nothing. Worried about dad."

Gina frowned. It was an abrupt response, which was in character. The reason was plausible. So why did she not buy it for a second?

At that moment, Lexia walked into the administration office. She looked tired and her face was puffy from crying, but in Gina's eyes she looked better for all that. The haunted, scared expression in her eyes had dimmed. It hadn't gone completely -- only time would truly erase it -- but even this was a vast improvement.

"Mom asked me to tell you about a meeting this evening," Lexia said.

Gina's eyebrows lifted. "A meeting?"

Lexia shrugged a little stiffly. "I think it's something to do with Unc...um...Commander Myers."

"Ah." Gina nodded at that. That made sense. Major Kendall had asked that the Guardians, as much as possible, covered for the various absences, so this meeting was presumably to work out the fine details of that.

"She also wants to know if you need me for anything?" Lexia continued.

Gina smiled and shook her head. "If your mom wants you for something, be my guest."

"Thank you, Gina." Lexia looked self-conscious as she said it, but there was a real sense of gratitude to the words.

With that, Lexia left the office, and from John's work station, there came a sigh. Gina glanced across at John in time to see a deeply unhappy expression on his face just before he managed to blank it.

Gina felt her heart sink. Oh no.

~*~

Kimberly barely managed to stifle a giggle as Wes appeared, dressed in the blinding white of a Time Force uniform and looking a mix of sheepish, uncomfortable and long-suffering.

"God I hate this uniform," he muttered, flopping down on the apartment's couch.

"It, um..." It was no good. Kimberly giggled. "It doesn't suit you," she finally managed.

"I know." Wes sighed.

Kimberly sobered. "Think Lucas will be long?"

"No idea -- sorry."

Lucas had brought them to this apartment -- Time Force senior officers' quarters -- but had departed rapidly in answer to a summons on his pager, saying only that it was Carmen and that he'd be back as soon as he could. To start off with, Kimberly had busied herself by familiarising herself with the apartment. Most of it was straight forward, but the kitchen took some time and she wasn't too sure she entirely understood the 'fresher yet.

Then there had been getting changed into clothing native to this time -- and that was an interesting experience. When she'd been a teenager, before her journey to Florida, she'd been into clothes and fashion. She'd held vague dreams of pursuing a career as a fashion designer -- before her gymnastics had taken the serious turn it had. That had pushed her plans on hold, although she'd still liked fancy clothing and shopping for it. It had taken Dirk and then motherhood to wipe that love away. And it had never really returned. When you never really knew what your day held in store -- anything from house or garden work to fighting off hordes of robots -- jeans and a t-shirt was always the best way to go. But here, that wasn't an option -- unless she wanted to get constantly stared at.

Before he'd left, Lucas had indicated what was considered to be standard, casual wear. It consisted of a pair of dark grey leggings made out of a material that looked as though it ought to be very heavy and stiff and proved to be as light and stretchy as lycra without being lycra. Over that was a sleeveless tunic that fell to mid-thigh and was made out of the same material. The one she'd picked out was a muted russet colour, although the wardrobe she was making her selection from contained options in forest green, dark teal, khaki, pale navy blue and burnt umber. All muted colours. Wonder what the reaction would be to someone in a livid floral print? Kimberly had found herself wondering as she pulled the tunic on. Black, flat soled ankle boots made from something that felt like very soft leather, went on her feet, then completing the outfit was a sort of shawl made of a lighter material but of the same colour as the leggings.

All in all, Kimberly reflected, it was a flattering, stylish outfit. But not practical if you're running around after an active child. She shook her head. Maybe childcare was different here. Maybe mothers wore different things.

Wonder what Eric will say when he sees me, she wondered. Wonder how much longer Lucas will be.

Wes' sigh pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced over to see a distant expression on his face. His thoughts were obviously miles away. Or maybe years. As concerned as Wes was over Eric's predicament, she was fairly sure this introspection had little to do with Time Force conspiracies.

"Wes?" He jumped and looked a little guilty. "Do you want to talk about it?"

~*~

The task force's headquarters were set in what had once been a factory complex. Between them, Rob and Ven had turned it into a more than serviceable base. The main room, Ops, had once been the main factory floor. It had been turned into a spacious area that was part conference room, part lab. In the middle was a horse-shoe-shaped table which could seat anything up to twenty people comfortably for briefings and the like, while around the edges were a variety of workstations and computer terminals. Radiating out from Ops was a series of hallways that led to a couple of smaller work rooms, a medical centre and comfortable living quarters.

As he entered Ops, just behind Alice, Rob made a quick scan of the room and saw that everyone was present. Ven was sitting at the conference table, the datapad before her told him that she'd been working prior to their arrival. Katie and Al were both standing together in the doorway that led back towards the living quarters -- they had been forced to make this into their home when it became apparent The Master was targeting them. Namir, Rick and Alice were standing next to them, Rick and Alice both looking slightly overawed. The final member of the team, Hawking, was sitting at the temporal analysis work station. He had his back to proceedings and Rob had his doubts whether the temporal expert was paying any attention to events. Almost as if to disprove that, though, Hawking suddenly turned round to face the gathering.

"I guess," said Rob, "a few proper introductions are due -- then we can get down to work."

"Slave driver," cracked Al, a faint smile on his face.

Rob rolled his eyes but had no need to retaliate as Katie elbowed her husband in the ribs and hissed, "Behave, you."

"Moving clockwise around the room, this is Dr Simon Hawking, Dr Ven Evora and Katie and Alan Drake -- Namir's parents," at that Alice, at least, suddenly looked knowing. "People, this is Rick Collins and Alice Myers."

"Who's a whole lot bigger than the last time I saw her," Katie commented. "Guess you don't remember me?"

Alice looked a little sheepish. "Not really. Kinda vaguely."

"There'll be a chance to catch up over dinner," Rob promised. "For now -- we need to get to work. Alice, Lucas told me your specialisation was strategy and tactics." At that she nodded. "OK. If you go with Al -- he and Nam have been looking over the information we've got so far, looking to see if there's any sort of pattern to it." Alice nodded. "Rick, I've got a computing challenge for you -- hacking into Time Force's computer system."

"Second time today," said Namir with a grin. "Piece of cake."

Rob's eyebrows lifted. "No, don't want to know."

~*~

Wes looked at Kimberly.

"Sometimes," she continued, "it helps to talk -- and you helped us so much when we were having trouble with Alice."

Wes winced. That was a little too close to the truth. Kimberly must have seen his reaction, but she chose not to press -- and suddenly Wes knew how Eric had felt all those years ago, when he'd confided what had happened to him in Kosovo. Before he'd even realised it, he found himself saying, "It's about Lexia."

Kimberly said nothing, letting him compose his thoughts.

"Mirracon...and Frax did something to her." Wes looked down. "When Frax aged them he offered Mirracon the choice. One of the kids would be his for his little scheme. Mirracon hit on Lexia." There was a bitter irony to that phrase and he snorted. Impotent anger finally overcame the sense of shock and helplessness that had been prevalent since Jen's comm. contact. A surge of energy took him up off the couch and he found himself pacing like a caged tiger.

"What did he do?" Kimberly asked gently.

"She doesn't know," Wes answered, only barely avoiding yelling. "She doesn't know what he did. What they did..." He trailed off.

"What does she know?" Again Kimberly's question was soft.

"He played on her insecurities and her confusion and made himself out to be a way for her to get even." He turned to face her. "She was physically seventeen with none of the memory implants. All she could remember was her brother teasing her the morning she was abducted. And he twisted that into something obscene." His pacing took him across the room and at last his anger found a target. He lashed out, driving his fist into the wall. "She was still a little girl inside," he snarled. "Just a little girl with the body of an adult." He drew his arm back to slam his fist into the wall again, only to find it prevented.

"Don't punish yourself," said Kimberly softly, her hands gently gripping his arm.

"Why not?" Wes snapped, roughly pulling free. "Or did you forget how she ended up in Frax's hands in the first place?"

"This is not your fault," Kimberly retorted. "Not your fault, not mine, not Eric's, not Jen's. The only person who is at fault here is the man behind it all."

Wes stormed away, across the room once more. She was right. That didn't make him feel any better. Any less helpless.

"All we can do," Kimberly continued, "is make sure that we get the son of a bitch behind all this and make sure he pays -- and pays dearly."

"Easier said than done."

"I know." Wes could hear the sympathy in her voice and it went someway towards thawing the anger. "I know it's not going to be easy. But we will do it."

~*~

Alice looked at the datapad of statistics, then at the holo display of the globe that was hovering over the centre of the circular table and frowned.

"You know you can display those stats on the globe if you want to," Namir offered.

"It might help." She punched the send button on the datapad and duly a rash of little red dots appeared on the globe.

"What're we looking at?" Al enquired as he entered the work room bearing a coffee pot and three mugs.

"Ransik's holdings," Alice answered. She pushed the send again, and a new set of dots, this time in green, appeared. "With the known locations of Arachna's operation. I thought there was some sort of correlation," she explained. "But looking at them all up...I'm not so sure."

Al frowned at the display. "There is something there. Something..." He sighed. "No good staring at it. Won't make it any more apparent."

"Nope," Alice agreed, helping herself to a mug of coffee. "Do we have any kind of breakthroughs at all?"

"Well," said Namir, "we know that The Master has a serious grudge against our parents."

Alice sipped her coffee and smiled wryly. "I sorta meant in addition to that."

"Nothing much," Al answered. "Some of the data we'd managed to collate -- Nam and I -- did suggest that they'd be making a move on Eric. There'd been a high instance of old files being looked over. I...understand that certain of the files in Major Kendall's department file store have been flagged to alert people if unauthorised viewers look at them."

Alice blinked. "Why on earth would that have been done?"

"The flagging?" asked Namir. "That's easy. Alex Collins was paranoid." There was a strange flicker of something on Al's face at that statement, something Alice couldn't quite place. "Not without good cause, either," Namir continued, "given most of what happened to him in the last two years of his career. And it's just as well he did. Otherwise we'd have had no warning about Eric's situation."

"Not that what warning we got let Lucas do much," Al mused with a sigh.

"A little bit is better than nada," Alice replied. "We'll find him."

~*~

Lucas led Carmen up to the apartment Wes and Kimberly were staying in.

"Nice," Carmen murmured, looking around.

"Perk of being a senior officer in Time Force," Lucas replied, somewhat tersely. "Are you positive there's no other way they'll allow Kim to see Eric?"

Carmen offered a sigh and a grimace. "Unfortunately, yes. I know what that place is like and it's the last place I'd want to take a lady, but it is temporal offences he's been charged with."

Lucas inwardly cursed again. The place they were referring to was the Temporal Offenders Institute. Most prisons were grim places, but the TOI was the worst. It was one of the oldest institutions on earth -- some of the buildings dated back more than a thousand years, and while they had been renovated, they still looked like exactly what they were: An early nineteenth century corrections facility. It was also a good two hour journey from Central City. Which is time Kim's out of my protection, Lucas mused, reaching the top of the stairs. I don't like it at all.

At the top of the stairs, Lucas turned right and walked the few paces it took to finally reach the apartment door. He knocked. A moment later and a sombre looking Wes answered, although his expression brightened on seeing Lucas.

"News?" Wes asked.

"Some," Lucas agreed.

"Come..." Wes trailed off, presumably as his eyes fell on Carmen.

"Wes," Lucas muttered softly, threading a warning into the word.

Without bothering to finish his sentence, Wes turned on his heel and re-entered the apartment.

"He doesn't like me," Carmen observed sotto voce.

"You did your damnedest to discredit his wife and represented Merle Askot," Lucas retorted.

"Oh." Carmen said no more.

"News?" Kimberly asked, as Lucas entered the living room of the apartment.

"Some," Lucas replied, repeating his answer. "Carmen?"

Carmen jumped. "Oh -- yes. Um." Lucas rolled his eyes. "I've been able to arrange a visit for you, Mrs Myers."

"Good. When?" Kimberly asked.

"Where?" asked Wes.

"Eric's being held in the Temporal Offenders Institute on Dartmoor," Lucas answered. "Before you ask, that's in Europe."

"What?!" Wes looked stunned. "Why the..."

Lucas held his hand up to stall the rest of Wes' question. "Something to bear in mind, transportation's come a long way from what you know. You can circle the globe in less than ten hours."

"When?" asked Kimberly, stone-faced. "I don't care where it is. I don't care if I've got to walk there and back, when can I see my husband?"

Lucas sighed inwardly. There would be no persuading Kimberly not to go. Never thought there would be. "When you're ready. Mr Carmen is going to escort you there and back -- and no, you won't need to walk."

"Then let's go," said Kimberly. "Mr Carmen?"

Lucas watched them leave.

"You're letting her go with him?" Wes was incredulous.

"And you propose I stop her exactly how?" Lucas retorted.

"I don't trust him."

"You're biased Wes." But I don't trust him either.

~*~

John could feel Gina watching him. It was slightly unnerving. Why couldn't she leave him alone? He needed time to think. To sort through everything he was feeling. Everything had come at him at a rush. His father's words. Then his father's 'arrest'. Then his mother and sister both going off after his father. Then Lexia and her 'relationship' with JJ. Too much.

Much too much.

And it wasn't as if there was anyone...

"I'm an idiot!"

"I'm pleading the fifth," Gina commented.

John started. He hadn't intended to say that out loud. Looking round, he saw Gina looking amused. "Sorry."

Gina waved the apology off. "Not a problem. Is it anything I can help with?"

"No...but...um...is it OK if I make a phone call?" Gina nodded, eyes wide. "Thanks." Figure he ought to be able to help me -- I know he used to listen to Alice when she was having problems with the 'rents...

~*~

Even the marvel of crossing the Atlantic in under an hour and the unquestionably scenic trip from the shuttle pad to the location of the TOI couldn't distract Kimberly from the bleak grimness of the stone corridor she was now following Carmen along. She shivered. Why was Eric being treated like this?

Almost as if he was reading her thoughts, Carmen said, "The crimes your husband's been charged with really are very serious. There isn't a lot of scope for him to be held anywhere else."

"I thought it was innocent until proven guilty," Kimberly retorted.

"And if he were charged with murder?" Carmen asked. "In your time period, homicide suspects are remanded this way, are they not?" Kimberly nodded. "Temporal violations carry the same penalties."

There was nothing Kimberly could say in response. Carmen was right. That didn't make it any more palatable.

They walked on in silence for a few more minutes before Carmen came to a halt outside a door. "This is it. I'll wait outside -- I know that you and your husband will want time together." So saying, he opened the door for her and ushered her through.

"Ah, Mrs Myers." The man waiting inside the room was tall, bald, thin and dressed in the uniform of a prison guard. "Intendant Hordak. Please, take a seat," he gestured to one of the two seats in the room, "and I'll go and fetch your husband." And he smiled.

Kimberly shuddered inwardly. The smile made the Intendant's face look skeletal. Outwardly, though, she managed to return the smile. "Thank you, Intendant."

He nodded, turned and exited through a door opposite the one Kimberly had entered through. She sat down and looked around. Like the rest of the prison, it was painted a dull grey, while the only furniture, two seats and a table separating them, was all firmly bolted down. Homely, it wasn't. Somewhat surprisingly there was no apparent surveillance equipment, but she would have bet her last nickel that there were hidden microphones and cameras. Which means the conversation has to be limited -- just in case. She sighed. Still, limited is better than nothing.

A rattle heralded the Intendant's return and the door opened. Kimberly felt a surge of happiness, but that happiness turned to ashes when her eyes fell on the creature that followed the Intendant into the room.

She had thought that the worst she would ever see Eric look was the way he'd looked when she'd found him in Zafar bel Abis' compound, back before they were married. She now realised she was wrong. Clad in a baggy, grey prison overall, Eric looked terrible. The overall made him look small and vulnerable -- and while that might have been something of an illusion, the pallor of his face, underscored by dark stubble, wasn't. Nor was the glazed look in his eyes, or the deep shadows beneath them.

"Take a seat, Captain Myers," said the Intendant.

Eric sat. Mechanically. Kimberly felt sick. What the hell have they done to you, Eric?

~*~

"So that's the situation as it stands right now." It was the end of a very long day, as far as Jen was concerned, and this was the final act: Working out how best to cover the various absences.

Michael Zaskin winced. "Essentially, you're telling me it's my research that's gotten Eric into trouble?"

"That's the excuse they're using, Michael," Jen replied. "To be honest with you, it's so much bullshit you could grow roses for a year with it." Zaskin didn't look any happier.

"In the meantime," said Ben, "while Kim, Wes and Lucas are getting this whole mess straightened out, we've got to cover for their absence."

"Wes is easily covered," said Gina. "Mr Collins has arranged a business trip to the Biolab facility in Medicine Hat. As far as anyone in Silverhills is concerned, Wes has gone on that."

"The tricky thing," said Jen, "is covering for Eric's absence."

"Maybe not," said Paul thoughtfully. "Seeing as both he and Kimberly are gone, if anyone asks, they've gone on holiday -- or on a second honeymoon. Something like that."

"God knows the amount of shit that's been tossed their way recently, they could probably do with it," Jen agreed.

"So that's their absence covered," said Taylor, "what about the work?"

"Jen should..." began Ben, but Jen was already shaking her head.

"I've never done the work Eric does. Normally, if he's off work, Wes comes in to cover it. But you've done it, Ben," she continued.

"But..." Ben began. "What about my job? Last time I did it, I covered both, but I sure as hell can't do both now. We're not going to be doing any training until Eric gets back."

"I'll do it," said Taylor. There was a moment of stunned silence. "What? You think I can't do it?"

Paul buried his face in his hands, presumably so that no-one could see his sudden attack of the giggles, but the fact that his shoulders were shaking gave the matter away. Gina was only barely more restrained than her husband as she turned a lovely shade of purple through her efforts not to laugh. Ben choked. Even Jen had to fight for a few moments to make sure she didn't laugh out loud. Only Zaskin, who'd never had much to do with Taylor, and Taylor herself remained unaffected.

"What?" she asked irritably.

"Taylor, honey," Ben began. "No offence..."

"You don't think I can do personnel." Taylor said it flatly, but Jen recognised the mulish expression on her face and winced. "You were the one who was pushing for me to take a desk job."

"But not...I don't...it's not..." But Ben floundered.

"What's so difficult about it that you think I can't do it?" Taylor asked, now well into her stride. "Writing up the shift rosters? Please. I can do that in my sleep."

"It's not that," said Jen, stepping in before Ben found himself sleeping on the street. "That side of things is something I would imagine you could do -- and well. It's..." Jen crossed her fingers. "It's that a lot of the job entails being able to relate to people. The other Guardians have to be able to know that they can go to the personnel rep and be able to talk to them -- and know that they're going to get help for their problems."

"I can do that!" Taylor insisted.

"It's not a job I want," Paul threw in, having finally managed to control his laughter. "Whole reason I became a Guardian was to avoid getting stiffed with a desk job."

There was a silence after that.

"Is there anyone else?" Gina asked.

"Only Ian Foster," said Ben. "And he's not available anyway -- he's gotten this bug that's going round."

"And he wouldn't do it anyway," said Jen with a sigh. "He's no more a fan of desk jobs than Paul." This had all the hallmarks of being an Enormously Bad Idea. But, when you're out of other options, take the one you're presented with. "OK. Taylor -- if you really think you can do this..."

"I can."

"...then I guess we're settled," Jen finished.

~*~

Yawning, Alice headed towards the living quarters. Her eyes and head ached from staring at electronic lists. The globe, with Ransik and Arachna's locations still hung, glowing ghostly, over the table, but neither she nor Namir nor Al had come up with what the relationship was between the two sets of data. She pinched the bridge of her nose, vaguely aware it was a habit she'd picked up from Eric, and groaned. Namir and Al had long since departed for bed, but the desire to find The Master and so find a way to free Eric had kept her at the task. But she'd now got to the point where no amount of caffeine was likely to keep her awake, so she'd see what good a night's sleep would do.

As she reached Ops, though, she realised that she wasn't the only one still up. Rick was hunched over a computer terminal. The rapid clicking of the keypad and the whir of the cooling system the only sounds.

This is your chance, a little voice said. Apologise.

"Either come in or go out, don't hover."

How had he known she was there? Before she could think better of it, she walked in. "Hi."

Rick visibly jumped and emitted a noise Alice could only define as a squeak. He turned around to face her. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry -- I thought, since you knew I was there..." Alice shrugged.

There was an awkward silence.

"Look I..."

"Rick, I..."

Both spoke at once. Then stopped. Rick gave a wry chuckle. "You go first."

Alice swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Damn but he was handsome. Quit with the hormones. Apologise, damn it! "Look...about earlier. I'm sorry -- I didn't mean to snap."

Rick shrugged and smiled a little as he folded his arms across his chest. "You were tired and you'd gotten a cramp. You had every right to be grouchy. I overreacted. I'm sorry."

There was another awkward pause while Alice wavered between leaving, which she knew she ought to do, and staying, which she really wanted to do. Oh get a grip! This is Rick. There's nothing to be scared of. Was there? "So..." Alice crossed closer, congratulating herself on her practical grasp of the situation. "How's it going?"

He swivelled the chair back toward the monitor. "As well as something like this can," Rick began, nimble fingers gently tapping keys. "It's a needle in a haystack search..."

"In a field full of haystacks?" she suggested wryly, trying to keep things light and trying not to think about how nice his hands looked.

"And it's a world with a lot of fields," Rick finished with a wry grin. "How 'bout you?"

"Same," Alice admitted. "It's frustrating. There's something there...and I can't pin it down." Something on the screen caught her eye. She frowned and leaned closer. "What've you got there?" But as she breathed in, she caught the faint scent of spicewood that seemed to be uniquely Rick, and lost her train of thought. Her breath caught in her throat. And then again as she became aware of Rick looking up at her quizzically.

"It's the finances of the TI unit," he answered, brown eyes studying her face.

Alice quickly tried to school her expression, almost painfully aware that her attempts weren't working. She stepped back, trying to buy some breathing space in a room that suddenly seemed far too airless, but even as she did so, it enabled Rick to get to his feet.

"Alice..." he started.

She backed up again and then again, until she was up against the conference table. He kept moving towards her and she found herself mesmerised. When had he cultivated that panther's walk? What the heck's Fos been teaching him?!

"Wh-what?" Alice winced at the breathy quality to her voice. That didn't even sound like her. Something flared in Rick's brown eyes, and she gulped. "Rick..." It was supposed to be a warning. It sounded like a plea.

He smiled as he took one last step, putting himself firmly in her personal space. There was no room for escape -- and in truth, Alice wasn't sure she wanted to. She stood, trapped between Rick and the table, and licked her lips nervously.

He leaned forwards, just fractionally, a hand reaching up to cup her jaw. "Alice...?"

His touch melted the last of her resistance. Something of that must have shown on her face, because he smiled that smile that made her stomach do a flip-flop, leaned in and kissed her.

~*~

Wes was asleep when Kimberly returned to the apartment, but Lucas wasn't. He'd waited at the apartment, and was sitting in the living room, checking his messages, when she walked in.

"Kim? Are you..." But he trailed off as he saw the shell-shocked expression on her face. "What happened?"

"I don't know," she whispered, dropping into the nearest seat. "He looked... It wasn't him, Lucas. It wasn't the man I married. They've done something to him. He was so out of it...he didn't even know I was there." And then the tears started to fall. "Why? Why did it have to be him? Hasn't he suffered enough?"

But Lucas had no answers. Awkwardly he moved to wrap his arms around her, letting her cry into his shoulder, offering the only comfort he could. "We're going to beat this, Kim. We'll get him back. I promise."

~*~

The court was packed the following morning. Row upon row of gawpers and gossips crowded into the public gallery. This case was big news. Not only was it a Time Force officer being charged with temporal violations, it was one who was stationed in another century. Wes gave them a disgusted glare as he took his own seat.

Kimberly hadn't even given them that much. She sat rigid in her seat, her face pale, her expression hard and unreadable, eyes firmly fixed at a spot on the wall straight ahead. Wes knew the visit hadn't gone at all well, although Lucas had been vague about the details.

A murmur running through the court heralded the arrival of the defendant. Wes looked round and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Eric looked awful. His face was so pale as to be lurid while the Time Force uniform he was wearing was so badly fitting that it contrived to make Eric look feeble and frail. But what really struck Wes, as Eric was manoeuvred into the blue force-field-shielded area of the dock, was the completely vacant stare. It's like the lights are on and no-one's home, he realised, bile hitting the back of his throat. What the hell've they done? And a new thought hit Wes. Was this what Kim saw last night? It must have been. Small wonder, then, that she was so upset.

"In the matter of the people versus Captain Eric Myers, the court is now in session."

TO BE CONTINUED...