Chapter Three

Steve's mind raced, even as his heart broke. Who is this woman – and where is Jaime? The possibilities were too awful to consider, but he had no choice. He could see how they'd all been fooled; she was a perfect double, from the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes to the soft, lilting timbre of her voice. Steve was careful not to let his expression betray him as he excused himself, headed in the direction of the men's room and (once out of her sight) took a swift detour to the pay phone.

The answer was prompt and brisk. "Oscar Goldman speaking."

Steve took a deep, steadying breath. "It's me," he said, very quietly. "Oscar, we've got a problem."

Still in his LA office, Oscar motioned for Rudy to join him on the line. "What is it, Pal?"

"This isn't Jaime; she's an impostor."

Rudy was losing his patience. "Steve, we've been through this – more than once – and-"

"No – you don't understand," Steve protested.

"We know how confusing this has been for you, Pal," Oscar told him. "We could arrange for you to talk to someone who-"

"She isn't Jaime!" Steve snapped.

"No, she's not," Rudy said softly. "She may never be Jaime – as you knew her – ever again, but-"

"Listen to me!" Steve hissed, trying to stay calm. "She's bleeding."

"Well, if it's serious, bring her in and I'll certainly take care of it, but-"

Steve had to control his temper; he needed their help. "Her right hand is bleeding! Now, unless Rudy has invented a bionic circulatory system that I don't know about, we've got a serious problem!" No one spoke for a few seconds that seemed like forever. "I don't know how long she's been here – how long Jaime's been gone," Steve continued. "and I'd like to question her myself, but-"

"That's not a good idea, Pal."

"I know that! I'm afraid I might hurt her, and she could be our only link to finding Jaime."

"Right," Oscar agreed. "So here's what we'll do..."

- - -

Oscar patted his inner coat pocket before he and Russ entered the restaurant. His gun was accessible if he needed it in a hurry but undetectable if he didn't. His datacom was handy and back-up (including Jack Hansen, of course) waited just around the corner. If all went according to plan, she'd be leaving with them, quietly. If not....they were ready.

"Oscar!" Steve protested, right on cue, when he saw him approach. "You couldn't let us have lunch in peace?"

"Jaime did say she wanted to work," Oscar began, forcing a smile at the woman at the table, "and, Babe, I've got an assignment for you."

"Terrific!" she chirped happily. "Where?"

"We really can't discuss it here." Oscar shot Steve a knowing glance, then smiled again at 'Jaime'. "Let's head back to the office and I'll give you all the details. Steve, I'm sorry to interrupt your meal -"

"We were just about done, anyway." With deep revulsion (but trying to maintain a sense of normalcy), he kissed her cheek. "I'll see ya when you get back," he told 'Jaime'. "Good luck." He watched from the table as the impostor followed Oscar out to the car and got in without an argument. Then, before heading out to his own car, Steve said a silent prayer....for the real Jaime.

- - -

"So – what do you have for me?" she asked, once she was seated across from Oscar's desk. "Must be pretty important since it came up so quickly."

"Life or death," Oscar told her grimly.

Suddenly, the office door opened and Russ, Hansen and a half dozen men in penguin suits flooded the office. 'Jaime' watched in surprise as Steve brought up the rear and silently closed the door. His eyes, so loving just an hour earlier, were stone cold. He strode across the room to stand directly in front of her chair, arms folded angrily across his chest, glaring at her.

"What....what's going on?" she asked in a near-whisper.

"Who are you?" Steve demanded.

"Honey," the woman purred, "have you lost your mind?" She started to stand up, to wrap her arms around him, but Steve stepped forward, his knees meeting hers firmly, forcing her to stay seated.

"Who. Are. You?" he repeated with frightening intensity.

"Oh, c'mon now – don't be silly. Did you hit your head or something?"

Steve reached for her with tensed fists, causing her to shrink back in the chair. Realizing what he'd almost done, he stepped aside. Oscar immediately took his place.

"Who do you work for?" Oscar queried.

"For you....I....thought."

"Your little charade is over. You've failed." Oscar scowled as the woman simply stared wordlessly at him. "Where is Jaime Sommers?"

"I don't imagine I have anything else to say," 'Jaime' told him.

"There is no Fifth Amendment in this office!" Oscar thundered.

'Jaime' shrugged. "I guess I can tell you one thing. You're too late. She's already dead."

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