Chp 13 a man for no seasons

Sharp-pov

I watch the water pass down below. The Puget Sound runs deep and hard. What has been happening lately. Leia was poisoned in the rehab center; She'll survive. Elaina jump off a balcony for a fifteen-floor swan dive during a party. Lincoln has been exiled and hiding out the last two weeks in Shanghai on supposed business trip. The police are looking at Anna; She is fifteen days in a Coma in Colorado: For pity sake. At least Grey is awake, still not functional. If Annie girl doesn't wake up soon, he's maybe unsavable as well.

I watch the water of the Sound drift out in its race for the sea. Soon the ebb will race back in. I must find out what is happening. Why the attacks, why the collateral damage. We know why Hyde was attacking Grey. But why has the attacks increased. Could it be Lincoln or some other persons?

I want to find this and end the pain and stress my Girl is suffering. I weed thru the information again.

Ten hours later:

I find a strange thread in Hyde's background. He and Grey were in the same foster home in Detroit. His Adoption failed. Grey's didn't. Barney's wild thought they could be blood kin proved false, thank God. I can't seem to tie everything into a logical bundle.

I need sleep. I head out of Grey house to my lonely apartment. It seems barren without Ferguson annoying habits. I hear the worst sound in the world, an AKM-74 bolt slamming into action. I turn to a darkly dressed man; no skin or features show in the clothes or mask. He raises the short-Urbanized assault AKM. I'm dead!

"BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!" From behind me:

He runs scrambling away to a black SUV. I turn to charging Lewis holding a smoking carbined A4. Thomas-Michael is giving chase races by us. But I don't think he'll catch them. I walk over to where the madman man stood. A puddle of blood. Lewis hit him. Probably a little.

"Lewis get me an evidence bag and cotton." I kneel down and look at the blackening oozes. This could change everything.

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Aspen: anna-pov

I struggle to wake, from the swirling colors, distorted music. I finally open one eye to tubes and wires, white walls and strange sounds. I wait for the blurs and spinning to leave me. I work hard to open both eyes. I try to move; the pain is terrible. I finally can clench my right fist. Where am I and why. Why am I here; did Frank beat me again. I try to remember. Everything is blurs and distorted swirling disjointed visions.

I hear a soft snore, looking to my right; I see a mountain man sleeping uncomfortable in a chair. His head on the edge of the bed. I slowly reach out to touch his copper locks. I need to touch his hair, feel his skin. I need him. I NEED HIM FOREVER!

I feel high as I touch his hair. Who is he?

He purrs under my unworking fingers. I long to see his face, hear his voice. I just can't make it without him. He must be my new CPO, maybe a friend of Frankie's? Or is he someone important to me, so import I need him to breath.

"Anna!" He whispers in his sleep. I feel my body react to him. Who is this man affecting me so?

I let my hand rest, I'm so tired. So tired. I drift to sleep.

I feel kisses on my lips, hands in my hair. Emotions seeping up to my brain. I open my eyes to his grey orbs. Tears racing for his chest, wetting mine. I bring my hand to fist his hair. I feel normal. NO! I feel everything with him. Flowers and children's laughter; I feel loved! Who is this Angel? "MR. Darcy." I whisper hoarsely.

"Anna, your awake. I love you." Speaks the sex god, making me wet.

"Who are you?"

"Anna? I'm Chris your husband."

I have a husband; did Frank drug me? Marry me off? What is going on? Does it matter? Do I care? If he holds me like this. Like I'm the world to him. I can only feel the love seep into my bones, brain, my heart.

Three hours later:

I can't believe I wed this man, who is everything I ever dreamed of. Christian is my light, even if my memories are jumbled and screwed up. I can remember many things and others are gone. I think it's a blessing. I no longer have the baggage of my past. Tomorrow they are springing me from here to our house up the mountain. I languish in his arms till the battle-axe nurses chase him out. If they can.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seattle GEH: Sharp-pov

We hold a conference, Anna is awake, confused and little unsure at what has happened. I think she is better off with the loss of the family baggage. Christian is lost as they rekindle their relationship. But he's a better man and calmer in his courtship of his wife. But the matter at hand is the enemies' blood has come back from the lab.

Welch is here with Barney, Roz, and Fred. Jason, Luke and Ferguson are videoed in. "Well gentlemen?"

"We have two hits on the blood. Both are confusing as hell." Fred states

"Well?"

"First hit is Christian; the gunman is a maternal family match 95%. An uncle, cousin? By his birth mother." Fred states

"shit! We have nothing on Ella. Everything came back a dead end or worse fake. It's as if she materialized in Detroit pregnant from thin air." Welch voice all of are worries'

"The second hit was thru the Army Remains Registration; a direct paternal line, 99% match. A Captain Thomas Christian Matxin, died in a helicopter crash close to the Colombian-Venezuela border near La Ceiba. He died when Ella was about four weeks pregnant." Fred looks pained.

"Why so long to run it down?"

"The Captain was commanding an ASA (ARMY NSA) ELINT(Armed Forces tactical electronic surveillance)-teams monitoring the Maoist Rebels across the border. Everything was classified till three years ago. I reached out to an old NSA friend. He tells me the Captain listed a newly married wife before deploying to the Puerto Infante base-camp in Venezuela. Deborah Helena Wepener Matxin. I'm trying to get some subordinates of his for background"

"The only match in the databases to a Deborah Helena Wepener for age, race and coloring is part of the New York based South African-American Wepener-Mason family. They control the industrial gem market in much of Europe and America since the 40's. The head of the Family, Wilson Wepener is also a DeBeers Cartel dealer in New York."

"He has four children: Deborah would have been 45; from his first wife Helen Mason-Turner; who died in child birth. Vicente a male (40) from his second wife, Victoria Turner, the first wife's first cousin, who killed herself when Deborah or Ella was thirteen. Zeruiah female (30), and Aquila male (21) are from his third wife, Ashely Van-Thomas who died two years ago with her son-in law Arthur Wilson in a car crash in South Africa. Deborah disappeared on her sixteen birthdays at the families Hampton estate. About two months before she became pregnant."

"Any ties to Matxin?"

"Yes, she attended a West Point Charity fair and dance, about a month before she disappeared. The Captain was giving helicopter rides at the event. She may have met him there. Also, the Captain had an apartment outside Ft. Rutgers, which had a female guest before he deployed. No record of a wedding, or marriage other than the captain benefits sheet."

"Why go after Christian? And now?" I ask more to state the fact than any other reason.

"There must be a legal issue. I'll look into it." Carrick chimes in.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aspen: anna-pov

The bedroom is warm and inviting. I lay sore and sated from our marathon sexfest. Chris is snoring loudly on the floor. Near the fireplace. He's too heavy to move right now. I couldn't believe I deep throated him and finger fu###Ked his prostate to climax. I rule! My kinky self. I smirk in the reflection of the window.

I look out our window to the snowy landscape and beautiful colors of the star clear night of our back yard. Here in the wilds outside of Aspen. The canvass is breath taking. The world is right. I no longer worry about the missing pieces; if they return, so what. I have the future I want and deserve and I will not let it slip from me. I dress and head down stairs to the kitchen to get some chocolate.

Winston pads next to me, the big moocher. I flick him a health dog treat. He huff's and eats it. I suspect Mia is feeding him cut steak cubes. I know a baggie in the frig; marked with Mia name. She is spoiling my man. I watch the snow blown from the roof drizzle down in the night sky.

I want my future. I want my man, children, everything I always dreamed about. No one is going to hurt my husband ever again. I sip my chocolate. I conjurors my dreams in the drinking chocolates dark swirls.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

New York:

I stand before the townhouse door of the Wepener family. The empire of a dynasty, one that guards its private life with a lethal hand. I ring the bell. Expecting a fight is about to happen; Ferguson on my shoulder and Roz on the other. Thomas-Michael at the car door, with heavy backup in reach. We are going to get answers. Hell, or high water; we will get answers!

The door opens to a thirteen-year-old girl with vibrant blue eyes. A Strange look takes over her features. "HI. Your Elliott. Who are the others?"

I'm disarmed by her question. She knows me, us?

"Yes. I am. This is Ferguson and this is Roz Bailey. You are?"

Before she can answer a woman in her late twenties. She looks at us with fear, yet conviction of purpose. "Please come in. I'm Zeruiah Wilson. My daughter Ella. Please follow me?"

We follow her to a sitting room on the second floor in the back overlooking a garden, a strange stunned tree is the center piece. We sit unsure and uncomfortable.

"Well?" I ask

We continue to sit in weird silence. Everyone is afraid of what will be said or discovered. "Well, who tried to shoot our head of security, and fuck up my brother's life."

"That would be Vicente, your uncle. He's unstable. Very unstable. He hated Ella, hated everything she was and loved. That tree in the garden was her kindergarten project, he burned it with battery acid. After his maternal uncle raped her. She was twelve. Wilson had him killed for his assault on his daughter. However, the Turner clan is all evil and crazy."

"why did she run away?"

"Wilson didn't handle it well or correctly. You see I'm Christian's sister not his aunt."

We sit stunned beyond believe. This girl is Christians sister from her great uncle raping Ella?"

"From the Uncle?" I ask afraid of the answer.

"Yes. Ike Turner and his brothers rapped Ella. Producing me. The Three brothers were killed in a plane crash on the way to Iceland. Vicente was promised by Ike that Ella was his to do as he pleased. You have to understand Vicente was always different, always obsessed and crazy. He raped Ella and me for several months before she escaped. After she left, everything became public, Vicente was committed to a psychiatry ward in South Africa till about two years ago. Where the Remains of the Turner Clan busted him out."

"Why did they do that?" Ferguson asks

"Ike made him the head of the Turner clan. The four cousins are desperate for the money and power he welds. Plus, they need him to carry out the clans racial and hatred campaigns. The Mason family is nearly gone, with Great Aunt Beulah nearing hundred. Three billion dollars in land and assets flow into Vicente and the Turners clan."

"Where and why aren't you stopping him?" I ask

"Unknown, probably on one of the farms in South Carolina. As to stopping him Wilson has forbid it, he brokered a truce when Vicente escaped to protect me and my daughter. Vicente killed my husband and my adopted mother shortly after his return. I lack the assets to stop him."

"Pack your bags your coming with us. Ferguson 'cry havoc'. Roz deal with granddad Wilson Wepener. We are going on the hunt. I'm calling Dad. This animal has bit the wrong family." I stomp out to a quiet place in the garden. Letting the calm of the place sooth my rage. The clown, the goofball surfer dude is gone. This is my family's safety; this is war. I'm cold and merciless right now.

Ferguson -pov

I watch Elliott the clown disappears and be replaced by a madman. I rage at the gentle guy's loss of innocent and happiness. I will do everything to get him back to be the clown, the happy family clown. For now, he's our madman and we'll follow him to hell. 'Cry havoc indeed' I walk outside to find Thomas-Michael missing. Hadron at the wheel. I look up the street to our backup; All I see are the drivers. Where is my team?

"They spotted a swan; decided to bag it. Turned up a hit team on the house down on the corner. The NYCPD is waiting for you. The Hit team is singing like Vienne Boy Choir. Thomas-Michael was very hard on them, you know he was cadre and pals with Parks. Who's the meat?"

"Uncle Vicente and four inbred southern cousins. Seems his father lacked the balls to put down the rabid dog in his teen. We will make sure he doesn't break our oaths to the Major." I speak harsh walking toward the house on the corner. So much for daddy's truce.

'He shakes Sharp's hold. Walking back into the burning death trap. Ammo is cooking off. He staggers out with the Copilot. The Blackhawk explodes. Engulfing them. He pushes the Copilot to safety as he burns. Sharp's brave the fire, drag him to us. He's still alive, for how long I don't know. I count the wounded and dead outside the wreck, eight out of fifteen. Soon to be seven out of fifteen.

The Major tries to speak. I lean over, across Luke; the pain! Sharp's flops next to him; bleeding from his chest, face, burned smoldering uniform, his hair is burned off, blisters already bubble up.

"Anastasia, Anastasia. Tell her I loved her. Tell her please, Ed. Please tell her. Anastasia!" He died think about his niece. I remember the coltish, quiet girl at Hereford, always a book in hand. I look at Sergeant-Major Edward Thomas Sharp, the stone man is weeping uncontrollable. I realize my face is wet with tears. I touch the body. Knowing this promise is everything in my life, my purpose to exist. "I swear to protect her always"

I enter the house, Thomas-Michael has the leader speaking on the phone to Sharp and Barney. Thomas-Michael was a Green hat in the Blackhawk that landed above us. He jumped, slide down the sixty-foot cliff face with the medic. His older brother, the crew chief in our bird didn't make it; but he had a body to bury, not a bag of ash. His face is uncontrolled emotions of hatred: He's one of Ray's students. They love him, loyal to him. And now his daughter. The Enemies' has picked the wrong herd to screw with.

Three days later: South Carolina coastal islands north of Charleston.

Freguson-pov

I watch the smoldering ruins of the beach house. The team has slipped into the waves; are already beyond the US criminal justice system. Fourteen dogs lay dead, from age ten to fifty. The Turner clan is gone. Only the head rat escaped.

I walk about the dead ground. Everyone here was evil and vile. The kids were trained from birth for a race war. Even the ten-year-old had already raped and killed for the cause. Six women and girls in various mental states are being shipped to nuthouse. I doubt they will ever see freedom again.

The Federal marshal, I brought are horrified and elated the powerful clan is gone. I would feel better if I had Vicente's neck broken in my hands. Time will grant me my fantasy, I'm sure of it.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

New York: week before meeting.

I sit in the third floor sun room, Ella old room. The room she grew her plants, her dreams. My tragic mother, with Vicente's attack on the Grey's. I find the brother I always dreamed, wish I had. Aquila is ok, if you can stand self-centered dandies and man whores. He has proven for years how untrustworthy and shallow he is. I should blame Ashley, my adopted mother or Wilson, our father. But I know the true villains Great Aunt Beulah Mason and Grandmother Sophronia.

Grandmother Sophronia was perfectly named; from the Greek meaning "sensible, prudent". She was unbending and harsh in all things. The deep racial and culturally hatred of the Mason and distance cousins the Turner's were more empathy to pre-civil war than modern times. She ruled with a harsh cruel hand.

The only one ever to defy or challenge her was Ella; My mother. All the staff that remains speak of the quiet, gentle soul she was. The grower, the nurse of plants. She would care for Vicente when he was sick, when he hurt himself. Yet he hated her. Obsessed to torment her, from an early age. She never gave up till she escaped. If Ashely hadn't begged her. She would have taken me. But I had Chicken pox and couldn't go. What did I know as a three-year-old? Just my mother was gone.

For years I ignored and hated her, till I had my own failure. Arthur was hand picked for me, when I expressed interest in a boy in school. He married me at sixteen, raped me and left me pregnant to party in Cannes. He wasn't a bad guy, just weak and petty. The perfect suck up to Wilson corporate dreams.

After Ella my daughter was born, he returned. He preferred his mistresses to my hard kicks in the balls every time he tried to repeat the honeymoon. Now he's gone with Ashely, I don't pity her, hate her. She was desperate to hold onto the wealth. She needed me to hold Wilson in marriage.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, I look into the deep blue eyes of my daughter, my precious daughter. My coltish thirteen-year-old. She looks calm and serene; with a pocket 38 in her pants and a straight razor on her ankle. She is a dragon, unlike Arthur or anyone else in the family. She fights like the boys, Brainiac like me, grower like her namesake. She keeps me sane in this insane family.

'everyone is screaming about my naming my just born daughter Ella. I lay in the hospital bed, pissed off they are challenging me. On the right to name my daughter. "Her name is Ella Tressye Wilson. Period. Get the fu #K out of here. Nurse I don't want any of them back in here to disturb my daughter and me!" The rise of Zeruiah the mother: my name means Pain or tribulation of the Lord or in this case tribulation to my family. I remember reading about my namesake in the bible, Sister of King David. I wonder holding my daughter, do I have a brother or sister out there somewhere?'

I stare into my daughter vivid blue eyes my beautiful fairy; one who enjoys life (Ella); One who harvest; a guardian (Tressye). She is the strong light in my life. We will survive and be happy and free. I long to watch her free of the family. To fall in love and be forever free and loved.

I watch the window pane, ghost of my mother. The serene pain in here blue eyes. The haunted smile. The fear of Vicente fist and belts. Her screams as he rapped me at three. Again, and again. Till she was gone and so was the demon.

Now he has returned. And we know now I have a brother; strong and good. Soon we must meet, we must choose. I feel my daughters' kisses in my hair. We will leave this place forever; I began making arrangements to take my mothers plants with us. The tree in garden must come with me. The only thing of her love that I have left. She nursed the dead tree to life, kept it growing when all other gave up. I remember at seven, caring for it, making it grow, heal, making it so Ella would be proud of me.

Now I know she died soon after those childish days. Soon after in a drug overdose; leaving my brother trapped with her corpse for days. She gave everything for him and me. She gave her life for us. The only way she knew how, sacrifice herself.