Chapter Eight
The next few years were difficult but rewarding as the three of them gradually became a family again. Jenna's grades came back up, the color returned to Jaime's face, and Steve tried to maintain his equilibrium and good sense while living in a house with two women. It was almost idyllic, until the day when the big, black car came down the driveway again.
When Oscar emerged, Jaime and Steve met him arm-in-arm: a united front.
"Where's Jenna?" the older man asked.
"School," Jaime told him. "And Oscar, you know we love you, but whatever you came for, the answer is no."
Oscar waited until they were all seated together in the den before dropping his latest bombshell. "Intel reports 'Blood and Death' has been re-activated."
"Oh no..." Jaime said softly. Steve held her close to his body, protectively.
"They've grown even stronger," Oscar told them. "And they've spread, with active cells in Pakistan, Iraq and Afghanistan as well as the original. their goals are the same as before, with one addition. They'd still love to get their hands on one of you, for your bionics, but they're also out for revenge."
Jaime shuddered, and Steve grew angry. "She's not going -"
"No, she's not," Oscar concurred. "I'm sending you both underground, into hiding, until this is resolved. Jenna, too."
"No!" Jaime repeated, sharply this time.
Steve leaned forward. "Oscar, only three of them saw me, and two of them are dead. If we changed my appearance, I could do this."
Oscar and Jaime both shook their heads but Steve kept going. "Send Jaime and Jenna on vacation and let me do this. I need to do this - for them."
"Steve, the one who shot me knows you're bionic, and -" Jaime was interrupted by a voice from the doorway.
"What's 'Bionic'?" Jenna was home.
This time, I was old enough and had heard enough to figure out that 'Uncle Oscar' was with the government, and both Mom and Dad had something important going on with him. No one attempted to answer my question, though.
Mom and I were whisked off in the big, black car and flown to this gorgeous, remote island where I got the best tan ever and Mom sat back in the shade, trying not to look worried. Three weeks later we went home and Dad was there, waiting for us. He had a happy, triumphant smile on his face and one of his patented bear-hugs for each of us.
We only saw Uncle Oscar once more after that. I was 21, and he seemed light years older than the last time we'd seen him. He brought me a bouquet of roses, with a tiny animal cracker fastened to each stem. He spent a little time with my mom, and then with my dad, but he'd actually come to see me; he'd come to make peace.
Finally, all the pieces of the puzzle fit. Uncle Oscar told me how deeply he regretted my childhood being ripped to shreds and that now I was old enough to understand what had really happened. He helped me to see how very much my parents had loved me, all along, and that their actions had been out of love, as well as to keep me safe and make the world around me a better, safer place. He explained bionics, a concept I still don't fully understand, and told me about what had happened to each of my parents. Finally, it all made sense.
The people (like Mom) who had jokingly predicted he'd die at his desk, still hard at work, turned out to be right. Three days after Uncle Oscar's visit, they found him with his head on a stack of files, a pen still in his hand.