25

Chapter 26

Long Journey Into Night

"For there is nothing hid, which shall not be manifested;

neither was any thing kept secret, but that it should come abroad."

~ Mark 4:22

The two sat—for what felt like hours staring into the television screen featuring festive spectators tossing confetti, kissing, and making merriment over the New Year. In reality, only a few meager minutes slowly ticked away as the tragedy of their predicament caste a pall over the two beleaguered lovers. And yet, a wave of relief swept through Kimberly from unburdening her heart to him: "I'm afraid that I'm not good for any man right now."

There.

The cards spread out before them.

Kim hadn't revealed such intimate details about herself to anyone outside of her therapist's office, much less to him of all people. By morning's light, she might form a different, more defensive approach, but Kim was tired now.

Tired.

That summed up everything she felt regarding her life presently. Physically spent from battling the pneumonia, and emotionally spent from fighting her feelings regarding Philip and Shane while Kimberly faced addressing all the past hurts and abuses that brought her to this point in life. As much as she wanted to show her loved ones that she was fine and 'bouncing back' (a burden Kimberly placed on herself), juggling the demands of motherhood and her work at the clinic was all she could handle. This latest setback with pneumonia seemed to punctuate a lesson Dr. Allison had been steadily guiding Kimberly to accept: she couldn't rush her progress, nor could she count on always being strong throughout it. Being patient with her therapy was one thing, but accepting her weaknesses meant accepting vulnerability and that terrified Kimberly more than the dreams and memories that plagued her.

"But Dr. Allison, every time…" Kimberly choked on her words and the last ones meekly stumbled out in barely a whisper. "I let them all take advantage." She lamented once during a session.

Kimberly had fought so hard to gain some ground since her fall at the hands of Winters but each climb back had been met with another slide back into the abyss as Kim's insecurity, shame, and fear overruled her natural instincts in relating to Shane. Each setback with Lawrence and the whole sordid affair involving Kayla, to her involvement with Philip, had taken her further away from the woman she had become during those best years with Shane. That woman felt loved and safe, yet it hadn't been enough to fight back the trio of demons that undermined Kim's ability to trust in Shane's ability or rather willingness to weather the storm. The ill-fitted mask she wore projecting an air of confidence and contentment for the hopeful eyes of friends and family crumbled as the final seconds had slipped away from the previous year.

Kim tilted her head upward slyly stealing a glance in his direction to gauge Shane's demeanor. She very much expected to be greeted with the wise but detached, philosophical approach Shane applied with her in past. Much to her surprise, his facial expression transparently revealed his feelings over the matter. No hint of "I told you so" bravado or appearing victorious. On the contrary, the intertwining illuminations from the subdued fire and images projecting from the television played against his serene but brooding face, which betrayed hints of melancholy and compassion towards her plight. His hand still rested protectively on hers refusing to let go of it while each one absorbed the fall out from their tumultuous conversation. Letting her guard down, she continued to study his face— an action Shane was acutely aware of but had no inclination of interrupting. The spy battled his own conflicting emotions regarding his role then and now over Kimberly's health—both emotional and physical.

The moment Shane consciously decided to pursue a relationship with the lady was when he gave up 'casual observer' status he retained that afternoon in his apartment when she confessed to the abuse she had suffered at the hands of Uncle Eric. He just hadn't realized it at the time. Truth be told, he wasn't sure until recently how to handle Kim's past and charted the course of avoidance to compensate. Shane simply knew one truth: he couldn't stop loving her despite his best efforts…or rather most destructive efforts. Tending to her needs felt natural to him, yet he knew instantly that the perimeters had to be well-defined, and Shane accepted that the outcome may not lend itself to his liking. However, his children's wellbeing depended on it. Regardless of who betrayed whom and when, and for what reason, they shared children together who needed to witness true peace and reconciliation between their parents if they were to thrive in such a tumultuous world. Shane and Kimberly had shared a love that needed healing regardless of whether it resulted in a physical reunion. Thus the spy was left with no other course of action but to dig in for the long haul. Above all else, he resolved to fulfill a promise he made to her long ago…

"I'll love you and protect you forever." ~ September 1985

His hand rested encouragingly over Kim's until finally, Shane broke the silence between them.

"Time to rest." He suggested in a low but tender voice. "It's a New Year and one needs to be ready and refreshed." The familiar lilt in his voice betrayed a need to end the evening on the best terms as possible. Shane abruptly stood and turning to face her, he stretched out his hands to help her up. There was an air of authority permeating the room that told Kim not to fight him. She gazed up into his serene expression and felt compelled to obey. Nodding timidly as he pulled her to standing position, the movement aggravated her cracked ribs, which caused her to wince. Thus, Kimberly allowed him to slide his arm around her tiny waist for support. She clung to his arm as he guided her slowly around the furniture. After a few steps in comfortable yet cautious silence, she dropped her head into his right shoulder as they carefully took the next step. By the time they reached the foot of the spiraled staircase, Kimberly's legs almost gave way from fatigue. In that moment, instinct overruled diplomacy. Shane scooped her gently into his arms and carried her to bed.

Donovan Manor: January 1994—few days later

Simmons bustled around the manor helping Master Shane gather the children's items to pack into the car. Hurrying into the family room, he fetched random toys and trinkets that remained strewn all over the floor near the fireplace. The kindly butler heaved a gloomy sigh as he gazed at the barren tree standing alone in the far left corner of the room. Whatever the issue that simmered between Master Shane and the Missus had been replaced with a quiet understanding that paved the way for the two to rest in their mutual admiration and affection for one another. The two seemed more content spending time together, albeit still stubbornly clinging to their own private confinements. Thus, the last days of the Donovan Family holiday had been spent in tranquil fashion as Shane and Kimberly enjoyed Andrew and Jeannie as a united front. Lazy mornings were spent in the sitting room off from the Dining Room—the children running through the house while Shane and Kimberly slowly sipped their coffee and read the paper. Shane took Andrew riding while Jeannie napped with her mother. In the waning evenings spent at Donovan Manor, the family retreated into the library for bedtime readings by the fire—an unspoken avoidance of facing the reality of a closing holiday season.

Despite Kimberly's current condition, the children seemed quite excited to return to LA given that their father was accompanying them. For Andrew and Jeannie, the illness brought them an unexpected gift: more time with their father and mother together under one roof.

"How fun it will be for Father to take me to school!" Andrew gushed to his mother on the eve of their departure.

With Peachy supervising the children, Shane descended the winding staircase with an armful of luggage and set it by the front double doors. Dressed casually in a pair of dark colored jeans and a white, crisp button down shirt for the plane ride, he still retained air of refinement by snatching a black woolen men's blazer to spruce up the attire. The sound of the business line in Shane's study interrupted the chaotic routine. The spy retreated briskly into the room and pulled the door closed behind him. Circling around towards the mahogany desk and with a swift, confident motion, Shane grabbed the phone off its headset.

"Donovan." He announced authoritatively into the line.

"Gov'nor, it's me."

The familiar brotherly tone that filtered over the line briefly caused the spy to exhale and lean leisurely against his father's old desk. Breaking with formality, Shane bellowed back,

"Bo, Happy New Year!"

But his former brother-in-law was not in a jovial mood.

"Yeah, you and Kimber too." He replied gravely. " Look I spoke with Billie and showed her the pictures you sent."

"How's she holding up?" Shane inquired delicately. It hadn't been a peaceful Christmas for the troubled young woman who was being charged with her father's murder. Despite Ms. Reed's issues with drugs and alcohol, Shane suspected this might be a case of a tidy little setup.

"And?" Shane snapped forward crossing his arms and propped his chin against his balled fist as Bo spoke.

"Nothing concrete enough to issue a warrant, but I want to know what the hell Collier is into out there!" He answered ominously.

"Care to elaborate?"

A long labored sigh, seeped through the line.

"She recognized the smarmy, chubby fella'…er Perk…"

"Stewart Perkins." Shane snapped back.

"Yeah, that's it." Bo replied dryly. The muffled noise in the background indicated to Shane that the cop must already be at the Salem PD. "What the hell kind of name is that, anyway." He added irritably.

"An alias." Shane answered. "We've got three Social Security numbers traced back to him and this one is definitely used to perpetuate the bumbling fool routine."

A loud apprehensive sigh blew through the line.

Before revealing anything more, he wanted to know exactly what Bo had learned.

"Go on." Shane signaled as Bo began to give a brief but sordid background of how Billie Reed's father placed her into the seedy underworld of pornography and narcotics. Shane unlocked the desk drawer to his left and pulled out a growing file Peachy had pulled together on Perkins and Collier. Spreading it out on the desk, he re-aligned the information while pausing for a quick listen towards the door for any signs of approaching footsteps.

"Soooo," Bo was saying as the summation reached the pertinent information regarding whether Billie was acquainted with Perkins. "She had an immediate visceral reaction when I showed her the pictures of him and Philip."

"Yes?" Shane's breath caught in his throat waiting for validation on a gut instinct towards the man when they first met in LA over Thanksgiving: 'predator.'

"Oh, she remembers the disgusting Perkins prick well." Bo seethed over the line. "Here's the problem: it's just hear say partner."

"Let me handle the legality, Bo." Shane assured him calmly. "Just tell me what she told you." The icy veneer lacing the spy's steely resolve soothed Bo's brotherly concern and cautiously bolstered his spirits.

"K', she told me that on one of the 'photo-shoots' Curtis drug her to and I do mean drug in both senses of the word." The tone of his voice betrayed just how much Bo cared for this young woman. "She distinctly remembers that clown walking in on it to look for 'talent.'

"And?" Shane straightened slightly and focused on the Van Dyke painting on the wall directly across from him in order to absorb the next piece of information.

"Because she had a bout w laryngitis, Billie was turned down much to Curtis' dismay. Seems the murmuring around the dressing room was that was a good thing because quote: 'Girls don't usually come back from jobs with Stu', end quote."

Up and coming filmmakers doing gigs with the Adult Entertainment industry was hardly shocking to the seasoned spy. However, the implication Bo was making over the phone involved a far more repulsive and depraved endeavor. Such operations wielded much money, power, and influence that penetrated deep into otherwise respectable corporations through shell corporations and willing participants who turn a blind eye to the evil before them.

There was a lull over the line as the disturbing intel sunk in.

"What about Collier?" Shane demanded.

Sigh,

"Nothing, man." Bo replied warily. "Said he looked very familiar… like she'd seen him at one of the promo parties she attended, but couldn't place him."

Still cradling the phone on his right shoulder, Shane's head dropped forward as he pinched his brow. The spy's eyes scanned the documents regarding Stewart's known locations and for the first time aligned the page next to the information Peachy had obtained on Philip. A thought occurred to him,

"What kind of party?"

The question caught Bo off guard and he snorted.

"Curtis wouldn't have hung around at an Oscar after party, Gov'nor."

"No, but did Ms. Reed say where?" Shane pressed with a clip in his voice that told Bo the spy was becoming impatient.

"I asked but she couldn't place the event. Probably a executive's house somewhere." Bo replied with a discouraged sigh. "Not exactly a solid lead and Billie admits she was pretty high most of the time. Details are hazy."

"So she couldn't connect the two?" Shane pressed for clarification.

"Unfortunately, no." Bo sighed in exasperation.

"I've had less to work with in the past." Shane admitted pragmatically. The first step was infiltration and the spy had the perfect scenario in mind.

"Look, partner." Bo's tone was deadly serious. "I don't like the mere whiff of this and it being so close to my sister…"

"Bo, I know." Shane fought to keep his composure.

"Especially…"

"This has to be kept under wraps for now…for their safety." Shane emphasized.

When Bo didn't affirm his point of view by remaining silent, "I'm going to use all the ISA resources at my disposal to rain hell down on them, mark my word." He spewed through gritted teeth. Shane proceeded to assuage his concern by letting Bo know that he was going back to LA with Kim and the kids. A heavy but relieved sigh flowed over the line.

"Keep my posted and let me know if I need to be on the first plane out." Bo conceded.

Shane agreed.

Hanging up the phone, he began compiling the files together. Slipping them into the black briefcase that set in the chair across from the old mahogany desk, he smiled softly reminiscing over the many times he sat in that very chair observing his father work in this room. The world is a magical place of discovery when one's parents nurture and shield them from its dangers at a young age. Paternal pride and the need to protect swelled within the spy as he pondered the contrast between his and Kimberly's upbringing. A soft knock on the door interrupted his wayward thoughts.

"Come in."

Shane unplugged the laptop and continued to pack items into the sturdy contraption specially made for intelligence agents. Wrapped in her deep purple cardigan, Peachy breezed in and taking one look at his packing inquired carefully,

"You sure you don't want me to join you and the Lass?" Her translucent blue eyes were bright and betrayed a hint of hope that he would agree to the arrangement. Shane patted her on the shoulder as he moved about.

"Ah, Peach! I need you here," He paused and caught her attentive expression. "Or more accurately, I need you to be there" referring to their business in Italy. Shane lifted his eyes up towards the fireplace where Kim's fire station photograph set perched on the mantle. Peachy's eyes followed and instantly she whirled around to her right snatching a book that set to its left. Tossing it to him, Shane caught it with a grand smile. "Thanks, ole' girl."

To the casual observer, it was a collection of Elizabethan Poetry: thick, old leather-bound book, which was appropriately weighted. In reality, the book carried most of Shane's technical equipment that was still unheard of by the general public. Snapping the briefcase shut, he turned his attention to his partner. Having spent the past few days running logistics with their team on how to deal with the fiasco concerning Arlo Perez, Peachy was pleased to review Shane's response to Walker's proposal. Leaning back against the doorframe of the study, she crossed her arms exhibiting the proud look of a mother.

"What changed your position on the matter?"

A vivid image of Kimberly's wounded; disappointed look from his dream pierced Shane's psyche. But he shrugged off her obvious praise.

"I need Walker ready to be pulled from assignment to handle something personal for me." He revealed as the two stood in the doorway of the study that adjoined the family room. Peachy's eyes narrowed knowing he had just completed a call with Bo.

"No time to elaborate right now. We have to be at the airstrip by 2." Shane instructed briskly yet placed his hand confidently on his partner's shoulder. "Move Borya into position to deal with Senor Perez."

Peachy smirked. Perfect. An imposing figure like Borislav Lessig would intimidate Arlo and send a clear message to both him and whomever employed the Italian weakling just how threatening the Doyle organization could be.

With a premature salt and pepper mane, Borya's deep grey eyes projected a dead shark-eyed stare that made most ISA operatives nervous. Since meeting the burly Russian at Shane's villa in Capri, the elder spy had quickly taken to the ISA's best asset from the Cold War. With little movement in the case, hopefully Borya's talents would ignite a breakthrough. While maintaining a neutral posture with Shane, quietly Peachy grew restless with the particulars. Recent intel from Salem seemed to corroborate early suspicion that they might have stepped into Dimera Enterprises' black market operations in Europe. Overthrowing legitimate government regimes in favor of puppet or at the very least hopelessly corrupt ones was Stefano's specialty. Privately, Peachy began snooping around into the affairs of less obvious suspects.

The sound of the children barreling down the stairs interrupted their little meeting. Shane lifted his eyes in time to catch Simmons gingerly helping Kimberly down the stairs. Peachy grabbed his trench off the upright chair next to the fireplace as Shane strolled quickly over to Kimberly's side. The past few days had been good for her recovery as the peaches and cream hue returned to Kim's complexion. Dressed in a cozy cream-colored woolen sweater and jeans, she smiled as Shane greeted her.

"Ready?" He asked warmly.

Andrew ran forward grabbing his mother's gloved hand as Jeannie ran into her father who promptly scooped her into his arms. The not so fractured family climbed into the car and headed for the airport.

Location: En route to LA

True to Shane's nature, he had procured the ISA jet he usually traveled in with all the creature comforts for his young children and their sick mother. Decorated in soft grays and blues, the main cabin had a plush couch with two end tables and a dining area directly across where they all sat for take off and landing. A galley kitchen separated the cockpit from the living quarters. The sleeping chamber consisted of one queen-sized bed with all the trimmings and an elaborate master bathroom suite suited for long journeys. Once the signal was given that the plane was safely in air and at cruising altitude, two wildly energetic children needed entertaining. While Kimberly rested comfortably on the couch, Shane crawled on the floor and played a light game of wrestling with them. True to girl fashion, Jeannie pitted her father against her brother playing the role of the princess in distress as Shane, the king fought against Andrew, the troll. The little game amused Kimberly and wore the children out who devoured their dinner when it was served three hours into the flight. Afterwards, Kimberly settled the children into the bed in the adjoining sleeping quarters while Shane drew all the shades to create a darker environment. The plane was expected to land around 4pm Pacific Standard Time, so keeping them on their current schedule seemed best.

Getting them to sleep proved more taxing than Kimberly could handle, so Shane took over and sentenced her back into the living area while he told them bedtime stories. He left them nestled in the bed with a spot for Kimberly who would most certainly retire there for a few hours before they landed. Emerging from the darkened bedroom, Shane fixed an after dinner brandy for himself and had the plane's attendant brew some Chia tea for Kimberly who had already curled up on the soft, grey sofa waiting for him. She sat with her left arm propped up along the back of it resting her chin into her hand. Her flaxen hair still hung loosely halfway up and pinned back with wavy locks draping along the thick cowl-neck collar sweater. A mountain of work awaited the spy, but seeing her greet him with a gentle and welcoming smile squelched all motivation.

"That was quite a performance, Capt'm." Kimberly praised affectionately.

"Wore me out." Shane admitted with a laugh. "I almost laid down beside them to take a nap myself." He added with a wink as Kimberly nodded knowingly.

"You should have." She acknowledged sweetly. "I'd have survived." Approaching the sofa, he handed her the fat, crimson-colored, round mug.

"I have work to do." He explained pragmatically.

Kimberly nodded sympathetically.

"Thank you." She closed her eyes and took in the spicy, exotic aroma. Her body shook slightly as little rumbles of coughing betrayed the pneumonia's effect on her. Shane grimaced briefly before closing the laptop, which lay on the end table closest to him.

"You should rest." He suggested affectionately.

"I am." She replied simply as she took a sip of the hot liquid.

Shane's eyes narrowed.

"I'm not tired yet." Kimberly explained. "Besides, I need to drink this since you had it prepared for me, silly." She added with a little flirtatious wink.

Shane smiled broadly at the remark reveling in her enchanting demeanor. Kimberly often wondered what it was he saw in her from those days peering through the telescope. So focused on the ugliness of her sins, she reasoned…erroneously that it was all that could define her. Yet being a spy, Shane was accustomed to knowing the worst parts of people's natures. It was Kim's tenacious, altruistic spirit that captivated him. Shane often studied her amazed that this tortured soul could retain such a deep capacity to love and desire for happiness. Many crumbled under the burden, yet despite her trauma, Kimberly Brady fervently sought to be happy and that was infectious! Kim's classic beauty with her mesmerizing eyes, luscious lips, and soft, feminine features were certainly a plus but many women possessed physical beauty that caught Shane's eye. Few possessed the soul of a true lady. At the time, Kim's question occurred amidst a heated battle between the two, and he had failed miserably at conveying this simple truth to her. If she were to ask again, Shane would tell her instantly. The only sticking point from his point of view as he joined Kimberly on the sofa was getting her to believe it.

Reclining into the sofa, he positioned himself to the right facing her. Leisurely taking a sip of his drink, they embarked on a lively conversation. They had spent the past few days discussing matters pertaining to the children, Kim's family, and her obligations back in LA that she naturally became inquisitive about what troubled him. "Things shouldn't always be about her." Kimberly reasoned. Her curious green eyes darted over his shoulder towards the laptop.

"Is that about that man Arlo or something we ran into outside of the symphony before Christmas?" She asked with an arched brow as Kimberly pulled the warm mug to her lips.

Shane exhaled laboriously. Ever since they had resumed their friendship six months earlier, it was agreed that his case was off limits for discussion out of protection for her and their children. Yet, several late nights, early morning phone conversations leaked out minor details that seemed to pique and entertain Kim's vivid imagination. Intermittently, she'd attempt to pry more information out of him. He leaned in and tapped the tip of her nose playfully.

"You're incorrigible, you know that, Ms. Brady?"

"It's one of my finer qualities, I'm told." She retorted with a tilt of the head, which made her hair flip in the air.

Shane clasped his chest in amusement.

"Who?" He bellowed.

Kimberly grinned knowing he had cornered her. Dismissing the question, she pressed on.

"So, ok, if this were a Clancy novel," She suggested with a giggle.

"You don't read Clancy."

"But Roman and Bo do…" Rising up slightly, Kimberly narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips together. And with an arch of the eyebrow, she revealed dramatically, "And you do too because you forget, Captain Donovan, I was the one who unpacked your bags after all those ISA trips!"

Shane almost choked on his brandy. Coughing and laughing, he raised his hand in surrender.

"Promise you'll keep that to yourself so my stellar reputation for pretentious reading preferences remains intact, me lady!" He pleaded with a wide smile.

"Aw, I think it adds to your charm." Kimberly interjected heartily which sadly caused a raucous coughing fit to ensue. Shane set the glass down and scooted forward to steady her as she pushed through the coughing fit, wincing and whimpering due to her injured ribs. With his right hand placed on her back, Shane pulled out a handkerchief and passed it to her impulsively pressing himself beside her for support. Their hands unintentionally locked as Kimberly reached for it still bent over in agony. As the episode passed, they faced each other; their noses almost touching as their eyes transfixed on the other for a brief second. Kimberly drew an abrupt breath, her feelings catching her off guard leaving her mouth partially open. Shane broke free first pulling back slightly—his fingers slipping out of hers creating a caressing sensation against the skin.

"Better?" His voice was low but full of compassion.

Kimberly nodded slowly as he sat back into the couch and picked up his drink. A bewildered Kimberly dabbed her eyes with the silk cloth as Shane took a deliberate sip of the liquor. A calm steady expression never left his face. Finally, Kimberly leaned back into the couch. Carefully, she pivoted her body back to facing him so they could continue their discourse.

"What kind of character would this Arlo be?" Kimberly quizzed amicably.

"You don't let up, do you?"

"Nope.' She replied as she reached around to her right for her tea to finish. Gripping it protectively, Kimberly eyed him with the challenge to continue. Shane smirked and leaned forward to discard the empty class on the coffee table in front of them. Still retaining an air of control over the degree of revelations, Shane leaned into the couch to his right and clasped his hands together. He leaned in just enough to accept her challenge without interfering with Kim's emotional space.

"Ok, well…he's the underling whose boss is most likely interfering in several key geo-political altercations. We're trying to take them down before they take us down."

"And you are?"

"You're pushing it." He admonished lightly. But pondering it for a moment, he quipped, "Commerce."

Kimberly shot him a disapproving look. Shane dropped his chin into his right hand and merely returned it with an amused glare. A silent standoff ensued with the steady hum of the plane playing in the background.

"Oh, I see." She noted pensively. "Black market opens lots of doors into high levels of political, financial, and social settings. It lends itself to all sorts of avenues: drugs, prostitution…"

Shane dropped his arm and pulled away.

"I don't do prostitution." He snarled abruptly with a tinge of Irish dialect slipping in, which caused Kimberly to jump slightly. He wasn't smiling; in fact Shane appeared offended.

"Oh." She whispered and realized why. Kimberly dropped her head briefly truly touched by his care even while deeply ensconced in a case. The lull in conversation threatened to sour their time together, so he reached for her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

"Hey," Shane cooed. "You're sometimes way too clever at pulling information out of people." He acknowledged sincerely. Pausing and flashing her an apologetic smile, "Is this how you get the latest scoop from your fiancé regarding his projects?" He teased light-heartedly to elevate the mood once more. Kimberly lifted her head and smiled faintly knowing what he was doing; yet not realizing the tactic was two-fold.

"No." She replied with a little laugh. "I usually don't have to pry that kind of thing out of him. Philip likes…he needs a sounding board for his creative projects."

"You're an excellent sounding board." Shane noted tenderly.

Kimberly smiled acknowledging the compliment but seemed to become a bit restless with the direction of the conversation.

"For some things." Kimberly noted as her eyes flitted around the cabin. Shane pulled back into the couch. He seemed genuinely interested in conversing with her, so Kimberly continued. "Philip primarily uses Stewart for researching and deciding projects. I mostly hear the details once it begins."

"I was under the impression Perkins was simply the 'money man' who handled the books." Shane mused casually, which induced a snicker from Kimberly.

"Oh, my no! Shane." She corrected him. "He does that but Philip has him scout for talent as well."

The clever spy noted the disparaging tone of her voice and seized upon it.

"That's a lot of responsibility. He must trust him implicitly." Shane noted evenly.

"On the contrary," Kim rebutted irritably. "Philip doesn't personally like him AT ALL," Her brow crinkled in puzzled fashion realizing how incongruent her comments were sounding. "But Philip says it is just business and that he knows what he's doing."

"But you don't like him." Shane observed allowing the comment to remind Kimberly that she had provided that information in the past. Kimberly gazed into his soothing and safe eyes.

"No." She replied simply. "He disgusts me."

Having met the man back at Thanksgiving, Shane had a pretty good reason why.

"Odd that he would employ the man if the dislike is that intense?" He mused. Only one reason Shane could think of why one pays someone to be that close to them: Blackmail.

"They have an odd history." Kimberly explained emphasizing the term. The spy was quite curious as to the deeper meaning behind it but didn't want to be too obvious with the interrogation. "Philip says he owes Stewart his career. That he offered him opportunities when no one else would." She added faintly. Confusion started to set in and Shane couldn't decipher if Kim was simply tired or having trouble with the memory. "I think Philip feels responsible for him since Stewart fell on hard times." Kimberly eyes darted back and forth as though she were trying to recall the facts. This intrigued Shane because he had the distinct impression that Stewart ran the show, not Philip.

"How long have they known one another?" He prodded gently. Shane sensed that he should wrap up the conversation soon. He didn't like how the color had drained from Kim's face since the topic switch.

"Oh years!" She exclaimed with emphasis. "Philip says that it's just that he's been a bachelor too long, but I still don't want Stewart around the children."

Shane's eyes shot up, but he regained his composure before responding.

"I think you should trust your gut, Kim." He advised calmly. "You can't go wrong there."

Kimberly gazed at him hopefully feeling the validation, but then asked him something that unnerved Shane greatly,

"You think I've done the right thing?" She asked softly. It was clear Kim was lost in a web of confused memories mixed with lies that the lady couldn't quite put her finger on. Shane got the sense that she hadn't truly absorbed what he said and it alarmed him. He leaned closer and placed his hands gently on her shoulders.

"Yes, darling." He answered softly. "But I think it's time for you to rest now."

Kimberly nodded feeling the weight of fatigue overtake her as Shane rose to help her up. Kimberly allowed him to envelope her into the crook of his right arm and bring her close to his chest. Guiding her across the plane, they reached the bedroom and discovered two little children sprawled literally across the entire queen-sized bed. There was no room for Kimberly unless they disturbed Andrew and Jeannie's slumber. Shane smiled lovingly at his children enjoying the fruits of innocence and serenity in childhood. Looking down at Kimberly who had lifted her tired eyes towards the angelic scene, he suggested in a whisper:

"Here, we'll set you up on the couch."

"What about your work?" Kimberly protested groggily.

"It'll keep."

A few minutes later, Shane had gathered a pillow and blanket for Kimberly who was back on the couch. Sitting on his end, Shane adjusted the pillow to his right side.

"Here." He instructed kindly patting the fluffy pillow and motioning her to lie down close to him. When she didn't move but stared back skeptically, Shane elaborated.

"If your head is over there," Motioning towards the opposite end of the couch where Kimberly sat, "Then the light from this lamp will shine in your face." He pointed out to his left. His charming, unassuming demeanor made Kim feel silly at doubting him, so she moved a little closer and pulled the blanket to her as she reclined into sleeping position. Kimberly moaned in pain but found the couch quite suitable for sleeping. It wasn't long before she drifted into a sound sleep.

With her weight pinning him on the right side, Shane shifted his attention to the task at hand. Unlocking the laptop, he positioned it into his lap and proceeded to pull documents. Kim's steady but slightly haggard breathing due to the pneumonia coaxed him to affectionately stroke her hair while she slept. Shane reached over his left shoulder and picked up the phone. Cradling it, he dialed a number.

Pause.

"Walker, it's Donovan." He announced.

Shane began with standard protocol and listened as his best surveillance man updated him on the details from their operation in Naples. As the two operatives spoke, Kimberly began to stir; the monotone of the plane's engine hummed steadily and morphed into the same wretched melody that plagued her from Christmas…

"He put the lime in the coconut!"

Philip's baritone voice boomed through the house chuckling as he sang it. In the privacy of the hall that led to his study, Kimberly sighed. "He's entertaining; I'll give him that." She mused.

Within the context of her dream, Kimberly drew closer to the study. Outwardly, her body became tense and started to fight against it. Shane stopped stroking her hair, as he had been absentmindedly doing since beginning the call. He glanced down to see her still clutching his monogrammed silk handkerchief from earlier. Subtle at first, a soft whimper was followed by a low mumbling on Kimberly's part as her dream attempted to unlock a mystery from her recent past.

Entering the study, she was first struck by the panoramic view the glass windows provided of the Pacific to her right that extended halfway cross the opposite wall. The sun was beginning to set painting the sky in a myriad of crimson, orange, yellow and purple strokes. The warm, vibrant view contrasted garishly against the cool grey and muted blues of the contemporary décor and minimal furniture selected for Philip's study. Directly, to her left set a class bureau mini-bar. Filled with various citrus, a crystal tray set atop the bar next to a striking pearl-handled carving knife. A feeling of dread like what she experienced as a child overtook her.

"Stop it!" Her head screamed within the shackles of her dream, but it came out in a mournful whisper that alarmed Shane enough to immediately abort his conversation with Walker.

"I'm sending you the file for your newest cover. Review it and let me know when you land!"

Shane hastily hung up the phone.

Kimberly snatched the lime from the display as her eyes continued to survey the contents of the room for the first time. Straight ahead, Philip's desk was streaming with papers and casting tapes. But it was the imposing painting hanging on the wall behind the desk that made Kim's heart sink. She felt dirty.

Meanwhile, Shane leaned forward placing his left hand gently on top of her head while the other rested on Kim's right shoulder to comfort her. Cowering protectively over her,

"Shhhh, Kim." He coaxed trying to wake her from whatever horror plagued her in her sleep. "I'm here. It's me." He whispered lovingly into her ear hoping to bring Kim out of the state she was in.

Suddenly, everything faded to black and a pair of grubby hands wrapped themselves tightly around her—a knife was placed against her throat.

"Who sent you?" A man hissed into her ear as Kimberly attempted to scream for help.

The name Kimberly cried out in her sleep sent shock waves through Shane's soul. She wasn't fighting Uncle Eric, but a more recent incarnation. To make matters worse, it wasn't clear whether she was calling for Philip in her dream or identifying him as the perpetrator? Just as Shane started to pull her close to him, Kimberly bolted forward crying out in a mixture of horror and physical pain. The move caught Shane of guard thrusting him back as Kimberly punched and clawed her way out of the protection of his arms. She scurried over to the other end of the couch. When she had reached safety, Kimberly pulled herself into a fetal position. Kimberly was clothed head to toe; yet the urge to cover one's self wouldn't go away. Tears streaming down her face, the wounded woman coughed uncontrollably producing more physical injury to her ribs. Quickly regaining control, Shane approached her— his eyes locked into hers seeking permission to come close. Kimberly appeared like a caged and terrified rabbit—her green eyes wide glistening with tears. Carefully, Shane reached out to gently touch her arm. Still shaking, Kimberly leaned back slightly though it was clear she recognized him…thankfully.

A thousand thoughts thundered through Shane's mind—mostly ideas pertaining to vengeance. However, he fought against them for the moment in order to project an air of confidence and serenity in the midst of such terror filling Kim's heart.

"Let me help you." He requested compassionately.

Kimberly studied him for a moment before relaxing enough for him to pull her close. When she groaned out of pain still clasping one arm around her torso, Shane realized that she would need new x-rays when they landed. "Wanna talk about it?"

Kimberly vehemently shook her head, 'no,' then buried her head into the protective shield of his chest. Shane wrapped his arms firmly around her crumpled up body gently rocking her back and forth. Slowly, the effects of the terror subsided.

"Do you remember what happened?" He asked gently as Kimberly tightly gripped his white dress shirt.

She shrugged her shoulders and didn't say a word. Shane continued to stroke the length of Kim's hair methodically. The plane's engine hummed on monotonously.

"That's ok, darling." He assured her as he buried his head into her mounds of lusciously thick strawberry blond locks. "I'm still here."

"And I plan to make them pay…" He thought ominously.

Lifting his eyes, the spy coldly stared straight ahead as he cradled Kimberly in his arms. Only one thought wrapped itself around his psyche: Collier had better pray to whatever deity he worshipped that he played no role in this, because Shane was on the warpath and he was out for blood!