"Well," Pat started, giving another soft chuckle, "I shouldn't have told you that part, but you are very easy to talk to," stalling slightly.

"Well you are the one who brought me here, remember, so spill," Mark replied, a little agitated.

"You always want to get straight to the point don't you? . . . Well the feds are getting a little too close, so I'm moving out of the US, probably on a permanent basis to a non-extraditable country. I will have my own villa and you can visit whenever you would like, but somehow . . . I figured this was my chance to meet you on my terms."

He continued, "I am sorry for the way it had to be accomplished, but I figured you might not be too thrilled with the prospect of meeting me, and I thought Judge Hardcastle or the feds might try to intervene." Pat let the explanation drop to give Mark time to process and respond.

Mark looked down and studied his hands. After a long pause, he admitted, "Well you're probably right; I wouldn't have been real thrilled, your goons showing up out of the blue and asking me to come and meet with you without any type of reason . . . but now that you've explained, I guess I can handle your method, after all I'm here already," he motioned with his arms. "Only next time, can you wait until after I have the date with the beautiful girl sent to lure me in," he remarked, rolling his eyes.

Okay, back to cutting up, give me some time to let this all make a little sense. But it figures she was just being nice to me to lure me into a trap, I was just starting to really like her. Of course you were thinking with another part of your anatomy weren't you, Mark?

"There is one more thing, Mark," he added quietly

"There usually is," Mark answered with a slight shrug.

Okay now the other shoe drops. What's he want me to do, kill someone for him? Steal a car?

Pat smiled at his honesty, "You have to swear to me that you will not tell the feds that I am planning on leaving the country, and of course, you will need to stay here until I leave. I think you can figure out why."

"And when are you planning to leave?" Mark asked.

Sure he wants to meet me then he's skipping out, story of my life; nobody ever sticks around for old Marky.

"Tonight . . . don't worry, I don't want to keep you here permanently, that would definitely put a crimp in your love life," he added smiling.

"Don't worry I don't have a love life . . . just studying . . .and then more studying," he answered sarcastically with a shrug, "but how do you know that I won't run straight to the feds even after I promise you that I won't?"

"I have gathered a good deal of research about you, and one thing I know is that when you give your word, you will keep it, so all I need is a promise to keep quiet. I'll soon be gone then you can walk out the door," Pat gestured toward the goons. "My men brought your car, and will give you the keys, after I am gone. I had thought at one time about buying you a sports car to make up for not being able to assist you when you needed someone, but you have a very nice one already and I'm sure that car is very special to you. And of course I thought you would think I was trying to buy you, correct?" he asked, studying his face for a reaction to prove him correct. "You see, I do know you pretty well, and this way you can tell the feds that I kept you under lock and key so you couldn't have gone running and told them, so it keeps your head off the chopping block as well." He briefly paused while watching Mark for a reaction. "Also, if you would do me the honor and eat dinner with me, maybe we could get to know each other a little better, your choice though."

Mark smiled broadly, knowing his uncle understood him fairly well; the only other person who could do this better was Hardcastle. "Yep, you're probably right," he acknowledged, "and no, I won't tell the feds that you've left the country, and I do like the out, wouldn't want the feds to have me as a bone to chew on after you're gone. And I will eat dinner with you if you don't mind that I call Hardcastle and tell him that I'm okay so he's not sending out the cavalry after me with an APB."

After a short pause, Mark continued, "I really would like to get to know a little bit about you. Wow this really feels weird, I never had anyone but my mom," Mark stated quietly.

"He would really put out an APB on you?" Pat asked thoughtfully.

"Oh sure, and it wouldn't be the first time either," Mark answered sarcastically.

And probably not the last either. Wait until he finds out about this whole mess; he probably won't let me out of his sight for months.

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx

Milt jumped and answered the phone after the first ring. "McCormick, where the hell are you?" he yelled into the phone.

Mark had the earpiece of the phone approximately a foot from his ear when he heard Hardcastle yelling. With a smart-alecky smirk, he settled the phone back to his ear and spoke. "Judge, hey, look, I ran into this beautiful girl at the market and now I'm getting dinner. I figure I deserve a little time away from the books you know, and it will make me study harder, okay?" He again whipped the phone away from his ear.

"God damn it, McCormick next time you decide to go gallivanting around the countryside, tell someone so they don't . . ."

well Milt you about told him something you wouldn't want to admit here ". . . have to make extra dinner that no one is going to eat!" came Hardcastle's harsh and scathing response. Almost let that one slip.

"Okay, Judge, look I'm sorry that you cooked extra; I'll make sure that it doesn't go to waste. I'll be home later . . . ahhhh make that much later." Mark hung up the phone before Milt could get another word in edgewise.

Wow guess he didn't pick up too well on that one or he would have recognized that I was giving him a line.

Milt looked across the desk at Frank Harper and the FBI agent that sat in the den with him. "Well, it looks like he found some bimbo at the market and she's cooking him dinner, so I guess you guys jumped to a lot of conclusions for nothing. He'll be home, as he put it, 'much later'." Smiling, he directed his comments to FBI Agent Brunner. "Now can you tell me what the hell this is all about? I told you he's a good kid, and I'm sure whatever you think he did, it's just some sort of mix-up."

"Well, Judge Hardcastle, I'm glad to hear that, but if you don't mind, I'll just stay here and talk to Mr. McCormick myself when he comes home. How much later did he mean? He didn't mention who this girl is or where he is right now did he?" Agent Brunner questioned.

"Nope, he didn't, and sorry I didn't think to ask," came Milt's terse reply.

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx