Chapter Four

"Thank you," General Bailey said comfortably, accepting Oscar's offer of a cigar before sinking into a chair. "Quite a sudden summons. What's the occasion?"

"Claudia Spencer," Oscar said grimly.

"There's a name I never expected to hear again. Just tragic."

"You signed the death certificate."

"Yes?"

Oscar took a deep puff from his own cigar. "Says here she was killed in a fire."

"That's right; arson."

"What condition was the body in?"

"Dead." Bailey laughed. Oscar did not. "Oh - you're serious. I suppose you could say she was burned beyond recognition."

"You ordered DNA tests, then?"

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

"Excuse me?" Bailey bristled. "I don't appreciate your tone -"

"Just answer the question, General," Oscar demanded. "Why was there no DNA test?"

"This is starting to feel like an interrogation. Is it?"

"No - of course it isn't. But it is urgent - life or death - and anything you can tell me might help."

"Well, Claudia was the sole resident of a very remote government safe house. It was the middle of the night and she was apparently asleep in her bed, with the doors locked from the inside. It had to be Claudia. We buried her two days later. I oversaw it personally."

"Then I'm afraid you were duped. Claudia is alive."

"That's not possible."

Oscar slid the blood test results across the desk. "See for yourself."

"My God..." The General's face grew paler with each sentence he read. "Looks like we got conned." He looked up at Oscar. "The blood samples were taken from Steve Austin's bed?"

"She's been breaking into his house, right under the noses of everyone there. At first she left love notes, but in the latest incident, she splashed blood all over his wife's side of the bed. The worst part is that Jaime's been missing for almost a day and a half; we originally thought the blood was hers."

"Poor Steve," Bailey lamented. "I can't imagine what he must be going through."

"He's in rough shape."

"I'd like to help in any way I can. Not to worry - we'll find her."

"We're working out of FBI conference room 'A'," Oscar told him. "I'm sure they'd be glad to have you." He shook the General's hand once more, watched him leave, then picked up the phone. "Russ? We need to open a grave."

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The sudden rush of air as the hatch was opened brought Jaime back to full alertness. Wordlessly, her captor pulled her out into the open and placed her upright in a small, uncomfortable chair. Although she was in considerable pain, Jaime remained stoically silent, refusing him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"I've decided to be a bit more charitable," he told her. "I'm going to let you film a little goodbye message for your husband." He removed her blindfold but left the handcuffs in place.

Jaime pulled at the cuffs, deciding that regaining the use of her right arm was worth possibly breaking her left, but her body was too weak to support the use of her bionics, so she sank back into the chair, defeated. She glared up at the man who intended to kill her, getting her first actual look at him. He was huge: very tall, and muscular in a beefy, unattractive sense of the word. She guessed he was in his late 50s, but he moved and carried himself with a straight, almost military-like posture that made him appear younger. He had the coldest, cruelest eyes Jaime had ever seen.

"So," he continued, placing a camera on a tripod in front of her and turning on a tape recorder, "considering you have only a few hours left to live, what would you like to tell the great Steve Austin?"

"Why?" She said, very quietly. "So you can cause him even more pain? Manipulate him into doing whatever it is you want? Go to Hell!" With great effort, Jaime rose from the chair, her eyes blazing, and kicked the tripod with all she had left, sending it clattering into the man's legs, almost - but not quite - bringing him down.

"That was incredibly stupid!" He growled, reaching for her arm as Jaime whirled around and spat in his face. Satisfied that she'd shown her contempt and ruined at least part of his 'fun', she moved back toward the chair, the last of her strength depleted.

Jaime felt the burning pain in her side, and her mind never even had the chance to register the sound of the gunshot.

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Steve was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. He was also out of patience and nearly out of hope. He'd escorted Rudy to the hospital, insisting the doctor get checked out. He'd then ensured that the coroner was on his way for Claudia, and he'd just finished giving Oscar all the details.

"Rudy did the only thing he could do," Steve concluded. "He saved my life. But...with Claudia dead, how do we find Jaime now?" His voice broke as he fought back the flood of emotion that threatened to drown him. "Claudia insisted that...Jaime's...dead. But she said she paid someone else to...to kill her. So -"

"She could've been wrong," Oscar finished for him. "Or, she may have lied to cause confusion...or to hurt you in the deepest way she knew how."

Steve made no attempt to wipe the tears from his eyes. "She definitely succeeded," he said softly, "on both counts."

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