oOoOo
The Reichsmarschall sits in his Pennsylvania office with the gorgeous mountain view, and watches the training tapes of the SS recruits' special project. They are rather dull, with the men sitting on the floor or standing, eyes closed, in some form of meditation or prayer.
He hears a knock on the door and immediately shuts off the projector.
"Come in." His voice calls clearly across the room granite floored room.
Walter enters and after a brief heil, hands Smith two files.
"We've found one confirmed suspect, sir. And have suspicions on the other, a known associate of Juliana Crain's."
Smith opens the first, and his right brow raises. His eyes lift just to glance at Walter. "Pornogrpahic films?"
"Yes, sir. Biracial. Strictly forbidden materials. He also used to be in the American military, sir." Walter says confidently.
"Most American men my age were, Walter." Smith's tone is particularly cold.
"Yes sir." He shifts his weight before continuing. "I only mean, sir, that he has military experience and could therefore be an operative of the Resistance."
Smith flips open the second folder to reveal Liam's image. He has seen it once before, in the file he showed Juliana before she vanished.
"I'm more concerned about non-militant means of uprise, Sturmbannführer. I doubt a few able bodied men would cause our SS officers much issue, do you?"
"No sir." Walter straightens.
"The Resistance is most dangerous in their propaganda and subversive efforts, Walter. See if you can find this purveyor of adult films and bring him in for questioning." Smith looks up, placing the files on his desk and clasping his hands in front of him.
"Yes, Reichsmarschall." He raises his arm and clicks his heels together before leaving.
Smith looks back at the files and smirks darkly.
oOoOo
The drive back to New York is easy enough.
"Are you sure you don't want me to drive?" Juliana offers.
"It's alright. May just need to stop off for dinner and a coffee." John's lips are turned up slightly.
Thomas is again asleep, curled up in the back seat.
"I'm so impressed by teenager's ability to sleep." Juliana smiles at Thomas.
John looks in the rear view mirror. "He is a growing boy, Julia. All he does is eat and sleep."
Juliana feels a small pang of guilt at giving him a false name.
"So, how long until you want to stop?" She asks, looking back out the window.
"A couple more hours. Maybe wait until it gets dark." The radio plays a song John likes so he turns it up a little.
Juliana enjoys the music, and it takes her back to the hotel in Denver. She feels her lips tug down a little. She left Frank near there, and she has no idea when she will see him again. She sits quietly as John drums his fingers on the steering wheel.
The silence is not so much awkward as it is bursting with things left unsaid. Juliana can feel the tension, she has been feeling it since the night before.
"It'll be nice to sleep in my own bed." John stretches a little.
She laughs lightly. "Yes, those motel beds weren't all that great. Add a long drive and a march, and I'm a little stiff too."
"Just glad tomorrow is Sunday and I get to rest before getting back to the school." His lips tug up at the mention of his job. He truly loves those kids.
He glances sideways at her. "Would you want to come over for dinner tomorrow?" He looks forward, not wanting to be caught up in reading her expression. He just needs to know.
"Dinner would be lovely." Juliana replies, watching as he takes a deep breath in a not so subtle sigh of relief.
She doesn't know how much longer she has to enjoy this.
oOoOo
Richie, Liam's associate, sits in an interrogation room tucked away in the Poconos mountains. He is shirtless and bleeding from whip marks. His head is resting on the table, breathing deeply.
Smith strides into the room adorned in his cap and leather trench coat. He stands, staring down at this pathetic man. He throws a picture in front of him.
"Now, Richie... Where can we find Liam?"
Richie lifts his head and replies honestly. "You'll never find him. He's gone on the wind. That's the thing about independent men: never very reliable."
Smith nods to the man standing behind their victim and he immediately lifts a short whip that has metal spikes at the end. The whip sticks into the back flesh before it is tugged back out, spraying blood on the floor.
"Ahhh!" Richie throws his head back and screams.
The Reichsmarschall steps closer, placing his palms on the table and leaning in. Summoning as much menace as he can, he growls, "Now… where is he?"
"He's travelling throughout the Reich, distributing those films. I don't know anything else… I don't know where he means to go next."
"The films you made."
The tortured man just whimpers his answer. John doesn't grin. This man is so pathetic he hardly offers a suitable challenge. There is no sport in interrogating low level criminals. No, his true target is the Resistance.
Smith's tone softens a little, as he straightens up and puts his hands in his pocket. The intensity of his penetrating gaze does not lessen. "Tell me… is he the one who shot the Reichsfuhrer?"
The man slowly lifts his head to meet Smith's commanding visage.
"I don't know, really, I don't. I'm not with them!" He tries to search the Reichsmarschall's eyes for any ounce of understanding.
"Perhaps not, Richie… but then, you helped them didn't you?" Smith feels no sympathy.
"And we found the film in your studio, along with other things…"
Richie's eyes go wide. Smith nods to the soldier behind the prisoner.
The Reichsmarschall turns on his heel to leave, the metal door closing behind him. Just before it locks, he hears another scream and this time, he grins.
oOoOo
John decides to grill steaks up for their second Sunday family dinner. Family. He shakes his head at the presumed intimacy. He enjoys Julia's company, but he cannot assume more than friendship, yet. He knows they may be flirtatious, as they were at their first dinner last week, but he is a few years her senior and she could simply be indulging him after all his generosity. He tries not to get too attached to the idea until they can have an honest conversation.
He still scolds himself for not getting up the courage at last week's dinner. He had invited her then for the sole purpose to see where things were going. Instead, they had spent dinner recounting the rally and sharing visions for a better world. Her genuine goodness inspires him and gives him hope.
He refocuses his mind at the task at hand.
"Anything else I can do?" Juliana comes out to the patio, wearing an apron.
"I don't think so, if the salad and potatoes are ready. These are nearly there." John slowly flips the steaks, sprinkling a little more seasoning on them.
Julia's presence sends a warmth through John, perhaps some courage too. He looks up at her, and she is cocking her head slightly sideways. At his sudden observance, she subconsciously tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and shyly bats her lashes. He is not sure if he enjoys this part as much, her faux timidity. He knows the confidence that burns within her, yet sometimes around him she seems to be playing this game. John doesn't know if he should be flattered by her modesty or take offense that she acts this submissive caricature of a woman around him.
"What are you thinking?"
His lips twinge up at her question. "Honestly?"
She nods, "Why would I want anything else?"
"I'm not sure… that's what I've been thinking about, actually." He sighs a little, checking the steaks. They are ready, so he begins to put them to on a plate, which he holds in front of himself, gripping rather tightly as a distraction. He is nervous to continue but he forces himself forward. He had been planning to have this conversation later in the evening, after Thomas goes up to his room to finish homework.
Now or never, he prods himself.
"I've been wondering why you pretend to be so demure." He gulps.
She stares at him, her eyes widen a little.
"I'm not insinuating anything about your character, that would be hard to do actually. I find you refreshingly compassionate. I more just...I wonder why you seem to hide your capability from me? I don't mean to imply your intentions, but I'm not the sort of man who needs that." He scans her eyes, searching for answers.
"Not the sort of man who needs what?" Her melodic voice tickles his ear. Realizing she is not immediately upset, John lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in.
"Who needs compliance or deference. I really enjoy your company but I feel like you're holding back." He gives a small smile and shrugs. "But you don't owe me anything, Julia."
"Juliana." She says. "My full name is Juliana."
"Juliana."
Hearing her name on his lips is exhilarating.
"And I think you're right. I've been withdrawn. I just… I don't want to move too quickly."
He finds a hint of longing in her pale blue eyes, beryl he thinks, and summons the determination.
"I just want to know if this is moving anywhere. I really see no reason to rush." He reassures.
Juliana reaches out to take the steaks from him, her fingers gently brush his. The glimmer in her eye and the genuineness of her expression are not meant to be deceptive. She means to convince him, but she also knows there is so little time.
"It is." She says simply as he releases his grip on the plate.
"Good." John brings a hand to the back of his neck, knowing he likely made a fool of himself. "That's good. I guess we should eat those before they get cold." He tries to swallow the awkwardness with his jest and chuckle.
"That may be too late," she teases as she goes back into the house.
As he watches her go in carrying the steaks and preparing the table for the three of them to dine, he reflects on how happy he is and how much he could get used to this.
"Come on, dad, I'm starving!" Thomas calls from the house.
John takes in a deep breath of contentment and joins them inside.
oOoOo
John insisted on driving her home, but he stays in the car and waves goodbye as she turns to walk to the front door. She is thankful that he respects her space but admits a goodnight kiss wouldn't have been so bad. At the thought, she almost curses herself.
Frank. Joe. Frank. Liam. Frank.
She gulps at the sudden onslaught of emotion and her eyes begin to mist. She remembers their goodbye, how Frank wanted to pretend she never left their safe haven outside Denver, Colorado. She remembers their last night together, the tender need they both felt, a desire to remember what was and what could be. She wipes the tear away knowing she will see him again, someday. Guilt immediately creeps in to replace her sadness, guilt for the ways she is manipulating John.
No, she challenges herself. She feels a little more at peace as she is finally able to admit to herself that it isn't all a rouse. She is drawn to him, and in a way, she always has been. Lucy had described his double as "dreadfully handsome," and she had thought even then that it was an astute observation and accurate description.
She sighs to herself. There is no reason to be guilty. Since her "accident," she has worked hard to live in the present moment. She cannot be responsible for every man that falls for her or the way that she loves them each uniquely, she can only be true to herself whatever the circumstances.
Juliana almost laughs, reminded of how Hawthorne had described her. Standing together in the barn, he said, "Some of the people you knew I started seeing them, too, revolving around you like an atom. But they would change different behavior, different relationships, different points of view shaped by their lives. But you were always you. You and your unnatural, consistent mind."
Thoughts of Frank, John, guilt and other memories immediately dissipate when she sees the small box near the front door. She reaches down to reads the address, but she already knows where it is from.
It's the film from their march in Alabama.
Her heart begins to pound in her chest as her unnatural, consistent mind knows what she must do next.