Here is Chapter 13. I hope you like it. I wrote part of it on the S-bahn on
my way to a friend's house yesterday. It also took me sometime to determine
the direction this story would take. Happy reading.
*-*-*-*-* Dylan napped curled up on the grey sofa with pink roses in the Hudson's living room. Even the sound of the rotor blades of the helicopter landing in the front yard didn't wake the tired angel. Homer let Alex and Natalie into the house and told them that they could find their friend in the living room.
"Thanks, Mr. Hudson," said Natalie as perk as ever then to Alex. "Isn't she so sweet when she is asleep?"
Alex sat on the edge of the couch, "A sight for sore eyes that is for sure. Dylan?" Dylan didn't stir and the Hudson's sleepy cat on the back of the couch gave Alex a slow "why are you disturbing my rest" blink. "Dylan," she repeated a little louder and gently shook her by the shoulder. Dylan turned over and scared the cat who gave a frightened meow and jumped down landing in the middle of her stomach. That woke the sleeping angel who sat upright.
"W-what," she began stuttering and then noticed the other angels. "Alex," she cried embracing her friend. Natalie sat on the couch and hugged both of them. "I am so glad to see you two. You would not believe the past two days I have had."
"I think we would," said Natalie glancing at the living room door where Bosley and Mitchum stood. Dylan stood revealing the light blue checked dress she was wearing- a loan from Ruth Hudson from Ruth's thinner days, and went to give Bosley a hug.
"How you doin' Lucy;" he asked Dylan playfully.
She smacked him on the arm. "Please, don't call me that. I am Dylan Sanders and that is who I'll always be. Well, from now on. I hope." Then she went to agent Mitchum, "I suppose you know that Daniels and Matthews are in on this assassination."
"He has for quite awhile," said Alex.
"What," asked Dylan. "And you send me in knowing that they would know about me?"
Mitchum tried to explain what he had known and when he had known it. "But we still don't know who the Chief's client is," he finished up.
"Oh that is an easy one. Try Vivian Woods," said Dylan sitting back down on the couch.
"Vivian Woods," asked Alex and Natalie in synch.
"Yes, Vivian Woods. While the Thin Man survived pretty much in tact Vivian didn't fare so well."
"Who is Vivian Woods," asked Mitchum, "and why do you girls know who everyone in this case is?"
Dylan explained their connection to Vivian and filled the angels on the events after Knox fired the missile at them at the mission. "So she is the burn victim the mechanic at the airstrip was telling us about," said Natalie. "Why is she after Getty?"
"I don't know. I do know that Daniels claims that he is Getty's illegitimate son, but what Vivian's stake in this I don't know," explained Dylan.
Mitchum thanked Mrs. Hudson for the coffee. Then he stood and said, "I think we better go get to them before they kill Donald Getty." Dylan thanked the farmer and his wife and the troop of them headed out to the helicopter. As Dylan placed her foot on the small step to climb in Alex's eyes widened, "Are those my black suede boots?" Dylan looked down at the once lovely pair of shoes that were now ruined by rain, pig slop and mud. She blushed and said "I guess you won't want them back then."
They were about to take off when Dylan spotted Homer waving urgently to them. "Hold on Alex," she yelled over the roar of the rotors. Dylan hopped out and noticed what the old man wanted. He was holding the case she had jumped out of the plane with. "I thought you might want this Miss Dylan," he said handing her the hard black plastic case. Dylan took the case and planted a quick kiss on his grizzled cheek. "Thank you so much, Homer. You didn't open it did you?" Once she ascertained he hadn't and was safe and healthy she hopped back in and off the angels went into the sky.
*-*-*-*-*
The group of five entered the lobby of the Chicago Hilton and approached the reception desk. The receptionist was a bubbly blonde whose name tag proclaimed her to be "Missy". Jorge pushed Vivian closer to the desk. "Welcome to the Chicago Hilton," piped Missy's tiny voice, reminiscent of a piccolo flute. "Do you have reservations?"
Vivian looked at the blonde girl with contempt. "They are under 'Sanders'," she said with a smirk. "But we will need one less room than expected. A member of our party." she paused, "dropped out."
"That won't be a problem ma'am. We can use the space. We've been booked out. Do you still require the smoking room," she asked. In reply Anthony lit up and looked at her with his non-wavering stare. "Uh, Okay," she said turning back to her computer.
Anthony wondered what the girl thought of the odd group they comprised. He wished Vivian hadn't booked them all in the same hotel. It wasn't as through they were inconspicuous; quite the opposite. He watched the girl preparing the room keys. She had such lovely hair. He didn't normally like blondes but her golden tresses shone in the halogen lights embedded in the ceiling above the desk. They brought out the light orange natural highlights and they made his hands yearn for a lock. Vivian's voice brought him out of his trance. She was saying something to Daniels about the convention center and the theater, so instead of reaching out and snatching a lock of the Missy's hair he removed Dylan's strands from his pocket and ran the silken tresses against his cheek wondering what happened to her.
/*-*-*-*-*
On the flight to Chicago Dylan told Mitchum and the Angels all she knew about the plans. "And then it was up to Anthony and me to decide whether to use the virus on Getty in the hotel or at the theater where he is making his presentation."
"And did you decide," asked the agent.
"I decided to jump out of the plane and take the virus with me. They will have to find a new method."
"They have a method," said Alex, "The Thin Man's sword." No matter what, even if he did save her life, she couldn't think of him as anything but "The Thin Man."
"Maybe but it isn't very dramatic and that seemed to be what Vivian was looking for; something shocking," replied Dylan.
"Seeing a man stabbed with a sword isn't shocking," asked Mitchum.
"Not as dramatic as seeing a man infected with a fast acting virus and losing all his bodily fluids on stage. No I don't think so."
"Did she have a backup plan," asked Natalie.
"If she did she didn't mention it; while I was there at least. I suppose she thought that Anthony and I were enough."
Natalie looked at Mitchum and asked, "Do we know who Getty's other illegitimate child is?"
"Getty was known for his affairs especially in the seventies. He had numerous mistresses. We could narrow it down to say that if he did have a child it was born before nineteen seventy seven. That is when he had an accident that prevented him from having any children," answered Mitchum.
"We also know that the child was a girl," said Dylan. "Daniels specifically said that he had a half sister. Even though he didn't say so I was under the impression she was younger than he was and she never knew Getty. He also thought that she would want revenge on him as well. I don't see what she would have to do with this though. "
Alex pulled out her laptop. "I have a hunch but I want to check first. I am going to go through old newspaper records from between 1972 and 1977 and see if I can make a list of his mistresses and locate the missing sibling. Maybe in doing so I can find out why Vivian wants to get Getty as well."
The rest of the flight Alex worked on her project, Bosley played a handheld video game, Mitchum slept, and Natalie flew the helicopter. Dylan let her mind wander. She was exhausted but her mind wouldn't let her sleep. She knew there was something she was missing about the case. Something, some kind of clue kept eluding her. It was something that tugged on the edge of her memory but wouldn't come to the forefront. "Damn," she whispered to herself. It was bothering her that she couldn't remember. She leaned her head against the wall of the helicopter and closed her eyes. Though she thought she couldn't sleep she dozed off to the rhythmic hum of the rotors.
Dylan dreamt. It was a weird mixture of her childhood and her present. Her mother was talking to a man in a suit, yelling at him. She couldn't make out the words or the man's face, but he had made her mother cry. She started to cry too because she was only a little girl and couldn't protect her mommy. As she cried she was swept up in someone's arms, Anthony's arms, he was trying to get her to stop and rocking her. Although she felt safe there she wanted down, away then suddenly she was hanging from the helicopter that Knox was flying three years ago. She had pulled herself up on to the landing gear and straddled it something caught her eye as small things in dreams sometimes do. Had it been real-life she would have never noticed it. She ran her dream finger over the small engraving and looked at dream Alex who was rewiring the controls of the missile. This was what she was looking for. "Wake up," she told herself. "Wake up Dylan; this is what you wanted to remember."
Dylan eyes flew open as she awoke. At first she wasn't sure where she was. "Hey Dyl, you okay," asked Bosley.
Dylan nodded and swallowed. "Do we have anything to drink?" Alex reached into her bag and produced a bottle of water which she handed to Dylan. Dylan drank and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "I think I know why Vivian wants Getty. Its stupid but I think Vivian is insane."
"What," asked Mitchum.
"Good thing you are all sitting because I don't think you'd believe me otherwise," said Dylan.
*-*-*-*-* Dylan napped curled up on the grey sofa with pink roses in the Hudson's living room. Even the sound of the rotor blades of the helicopter landing in the front yard didn't wake the tired angel. Homer let Alex and Natalie into the house and told them that they could find their friend in the living room.
"Thanks, Mr. Hudson," said Natalie as perk as ever then to Alex. "Isn't she so sweet when she is asleep?"
Alex sat on the edge of the couch, "A sight for sore eyes that is for sure. Dylan?" Dylan didn't stir and the Hudson's sleepy cat on the back of the couch gave Alex a slow "why are you disturbing my rest" blink. "Dylan," she repeated a little louder and gently shook her by the shoulder. Dylan turned over and scared the cat who gave a frightened meow and jumped down landing in the middle of her stomach. That woke the sleeping angel who sat upright.
"W-what," she began stuttering and then noticed the other angels. "Alex," she cried embracing her friend. Natalie sat on the couch and hugged both of them. "I am so glad to see you two. You would not believe the past two days I have had."
"I think we would," said Natalie glancing at the living room door where Bosley and Mitchum stood. Dylan stood revealing the light blue checked dress she was wearing- a loan from Ruth Hudson from Ruth's thinner days, and went to give Bosley a hug.
"How you doin' Lucy;" he asked Dylan playfully.
She smacked him on the arm. "Please, don't call me that. I am Dylan Sanders and that is who I'll always be. Well, from now on. I hope." Then she went to agent Mitchum, "I suppose you know that Daniels and Matthews are in on this assassination."
"He has for quite awhile," said Alex.
"What," asked Dylan. "And you send me in knowing that they would know about me?"
Mitchum tried to explain what he had known and when he had known it. "But we still don't know who the Chief's client is," he finished up.
"Oh that is an easy one. Try Vivian Woods," said Dylan sitting back down on the couch.
"Vivian Woods," asked Alex and Natalie in synch.
"Yes, Vivian Woods. While the Thin Man survived pretty much in tact Vivian didn't fare so well."
"Who is Vivian Woods," asked Mitchum, "and why do you girls know who everyone in this case is?"
Dylan explained their connection to Vivian and filled the angels on the events after Knox fired the missile at them at the mission. "So she is the burn victim the mechanic at the airstrip was telling us about," said Natalie. "Why is she after Getty?"
"I don't know. I do know that Daniels claims that he is Getty's illegitimate son, but what Vivian's stake in this I don't know," explained Dylan.
Mitchum thanked Mrs. Hudson for the coffee. Then he stood and said, "I think we better go get to them before they kill Donald Getty." Dylan thanked the farmer and his wife and the troop of them headed out to the helicopter. As Dylan placed her foot on the small step to climb in Alex's eyes widened, "Are those my black suede boots?" Dylan looked down at the once lovely pair of shoes that were now ruined by rain, pig slop and mud. She blushed and said "I guess you won't want them back then."
They were about to take off when Dylan spotted Homer waving urgently to them. "Hold on Alex," she yelled over the roar of the rotors. Dylan hopped out and noticed what the old man wanted. He was holding the case she had jumped out of the plane with. "I thought you might want this Miss Dylan," he said handing her the hard black plastic case. Dylan took the case and planted a quick kiss on his grizzled cheek. "Thank you so much, Homer. You didn't open it did you?" Once she ascertained he hadn't and was safe and healthy she hopped back in and off the angels went into the sky.
*-*-*-*-*
The group of five entered the lobby of the Chicago Hilton and approached the reception desk. The receptionist was a bubbly blonde whose name tag proclaimed her to be "Missy". Jorge pushed Vivian closer to the desk. "Welcome to the Chicago Hilton," piped Missy's tiny voice, reminiscent of a piccolo flute. "Do you have reservations?"
Vivian looked at the blonde girl with contempt. "They are under 'Sanders'," she said with a smirk. "But we will need one less room than expected. A member of our party." she paused, "dropped out."
"That won't be a problem ma'am. We can use the space. We've been booked out. Do you still require the smoking room," she asked. In reply Anthony lit up and looked at her with his non-wavering stare. "Uh, Okay," she said turning back to her computer.
Anthony wondered what the girl thought of the odd group they comprised. He wished Vivian hadn't booked them all in the same hotel. It wasn't as through they were inconspicuous; quite the opposite. He watched the girl preparing the room keys. She had such lovely hair. He didn't normally like blondes but her golden tresses shone in the halogen lights embedded in the ceiling above the desk. They brought out the light orange natural highlights and they made his hands yearn for a lock. Vivian's voice brought him out of his trance. She was saying something to Daniels about the convention center and the theater, so instead of reaching out and snatching a lock of the Missy's hair he removed Dylan's strands from his pocket and ran the silken tresses against his cheek wondering what happened to her.
/*-*-*-*-*
On the flight to Chicago Dylan told Mitchum and the Angels all she knew about the plans. "And then it was up to Anthony and me to decide whether to use the virus on Getty in the hotel or at the theater where he is making his presentation."
"And did you decide," asked the agent.
"I decided to jump out of the plane and take the virus with me. They will have to find a new method."
"They have a method," said Alex, "The Thin Man's sword." No matter what, even if he did save her life, she couldn't think of him as anything but "The Thin Man."
"Maybe but it isn't very dramatic and that seemed to be what Vivian was looking for; something shocking," replied Dylan.
"Seeing a man stabbed with a sword isn't shocking," asked Mitchum.
"Not as dramatic as seeing a man infected with a fast acting virus and losing all his bodily fluids on stage. No I don't think so."
"Did she have a backup plan," asked Natalie.
"If she did she didn't mention it; while I was there at least. I suppose she thought that Anthony and I were enough."
Natalie looked at Mitchum and asked, "Do we know who Getty's other illegitimate child is?"
"Getty was known for his affairs especially in the seventies. He had numerous mistresses. We could narrow it down to say that if he did have a child it was born before nineteen seventy seven. That is when he had an accident that prevented him from having any children," answered Mitchum.
"We also know that the child was a girl," said Dylan. "Daniels specifically said that he had a half sister. Even though he didn't say so I was under the impression she was younger than he was and she never knew Getty. He also thought that she would want revenge on him as well. I don't see what she would have to do with this though. "
Alex pulled out her laptop. "I have a hunch but I want to check first. I am going to go through old newspaper records from between 1972 and 1977 and see if I can make a list of his mistresses and locate the missing sibling. Maybe in doing so I can find out why Vivian wants to get Getty as well."
The rest of the flight Alex worked on her project, Bosley played a handheld video game, Mitchum slept, and Natalie flew the helicopter. Dylan let her mind wander. She was exhausted but her mind wouldn't let her sleep. She knew there was something she was missing about the case. Something, some kind of clue kept eluding her. It was something that tugged on the edge of her memory but wouldn't come to the forefront. "Damn," she whispered to herself. It was bothering her that she couldn't remember. She leaned her head against the wall of the helicopter and closed her eyes. Though she thought she couldn't sleep she dozed off to the rhythmic hum of the rotors.
Dylan dreamt. It was a weird mixture of her childhood and her present. Her mother was talking to a man in a suit, yelling at him. She couldn't make out the words or the man's face, but he had made her mother cry. She started to cry too because she was only a little girl and couldn't protect her mommy. As she cried she was swept up in someone's arms, Anthony's arms, he was trying to get her to stop and rocking her. Although she felt safe there she wanted down, away then suddenly she was hanging from the helicopter that Knox was flying three years ago. She had pulled herself up on to the landing gear and straddled it something caught her eye as small things in dreams sometimes do. Had it been real-life she would have never noticed it. She ran her dream finger over the small engraving and looked at dream Alex who was rewiring the controls of the missile. This was what she was looking for. "Wake up," she told herself. "Wake up Dylan; this is what you wanted to remember."
Dylan eyes flew open as she awoke. At first she wasn't sure where she was. "Hey Dyl, you okay," asked Bosley.
Dylan nodded and swallowed. "Do we have anything to drink?" Alex reached into her bag and produced a bottle of water which she handed to Dylan. Dylan drank and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "I think I know why Vivian wants Getty. Its stupid but I think Vivian is insane."
"What," asked Mitchum.
"Good thing you are all sitting because I don't think you'd believe me otherwise," said Dylan.