Good evening all. I'm sorry, I'm late posting. Hectic week.
Again, if you see errors, please let me know. Your help is appreciated and welcomed. Any little bit helps.
Anatolie: Well, I'm sure your guess is right. I hope you like how it unfolds. I do love twisting things a bit, so I hope you enjoy the story.
RRL24: Thank you! I hope you keep reading. This story really was a labor of love. I loved writing it.
Harry101: It's so interesting you would say that….it's also a bit ironic too. The reason I wrote this fic was because I totally fell in love reading "Love is Strong". I spent an entire night (till 4am one Saturday morning) reading your fic. It's a beautiful story, I do hope you finish it. I also loved it because it was so well written. Thank you for inspiring me!
I do not have a beta reader for this one, so I truly apologize if I missed anything. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Tomorrow I'll start getting the next one ready. Have a fabulous weekend!
Playlist for this Chapter:
Death is the Road to Awe: Clint Mansell
For the Asking: John R. Burr
Epic: Waking Realization
Dream: Priscilla Ahn
Chapter 3
Tourists at the Square loved walking at night as much as they enjoyed strolling during daylight hours. The two operatives headed north to the Kazan Cathedral. A cube building topped with a cluster of domes. The small, but charming church was the convenient place for the assignment to happen.
"You hid everything in the church?" the woman asked pugnaciously.
"No one would look for that sort of thing in there," he said soberly as they walked up the steps without looking at her. "I managed to enter earlier today and tour around the place. When no one was looking, I hid everything in a closet near the bell tower. "
"And, you are sure it will still be there?" she asked suspiciously.
"I put in a tracking device in the bag. If it had moved, it would have alerted me," he answered, dismissing her suspiciousness as he turned to look at her.
Nodding in understanding and backing off after noticing his aloofness in tone, she took out something from her pocket, "Use this device to contact me if you are unable to succeed. If you can't, I will eliminate the target."
"I understand. But I won't have to use it," he answered, putting the device in his pocket.
She looked at him, unfazed by his comment and continued, "One shot, it must bypass the heart," she told him. "It needs to be specific. Also," she said, as she took out a small velvet bag from her pant pocket, "You will need to shoot him with this."
He took the bag and opened it, seeing a single silver bullet with intricate designs. A signature. When have we ever used signatures? "Alright," he answered not showing any curiosity in his tone or in his expression.
"I'll be around to make sure the conditions are appropriate. If all goes well here, I'll finalize my own assignment back at the hotel," she told him in a matter of fact tone.
"I understand," he nodded, knowing she'd be the backup in case he'd miss. "I'm assuming that if everything goes as planned, I will not see you."
"You assume correctly, DR128" she answered, a malign smile curled on her lips. "I hope I do not see you."
He looked at her dispassionately, "Same here."
XXXXXXXXXX
Phil Corvin was back at the terminal that just hours ago he stood by when he waited for the UN Ambassador's arrival. Now the man lay on the airport floor dead, half covered by a white sheet as the medical examiner looked him over. Corvin managed to shut down part of the airport in order to begin the investigation.
As he walked over to the medical examiner that kneeled next to the body, he sighed with frustration, still baffled by the entire event that recently occurred. A petite Afro-American woman in her mid- forties hovered over the UN official as she examined his eyes. The woman had the body of a ballerina. Her hair cascaded in layers down to the middle of her back. Today, however, she wore it in a loose ponytail. As Phil walked to her, he couldn't help to notice what she wore—a cream color pant suit that complemented her rich moderately brown skin tone. He kneeled next to her as she told him, "This is very strange."
"You're telling me Alex," Phil replied looking at her. "Did you find anything?"
She shook her head quickly as her pony tail swung from side to side, "Nothing concrete yet. All I can tell you for now is that there is absolutely no reason this man should have dropped the way he did, unless he was poisoned."
"He was," he replied immediately. "I mean…maybe. I thought the same thing too. Something must have happened during the altercation with the suspect."
Alex Perry, one of I-1's medical examiners, looked at him in question, "I heard your suspect couldn't have been more than twenty years old or so?"
He nodded, "Damn kid looked eighteen. He was young, very young…and quick."
"Did he touch the ambassador at any point?" she asked as she covered the body once again before standing up.
Phil stood up following her lead. "No," he answered as he raked his salt and pepper hair with his hand. "He was close enough for us to see that he didn't touch him. He didn't even have any weapons on him….I don't know Alex, this case is just the strangest thing I've seen in years."
Alex looked back at the body, "Well, I won't know anything until I can perform a full autopsy. Will his government allow it?"
"Not sure, but I'm going to push for it," he answered standing up. "As soon as I have the orders confirmed, I'll contact you."
"I'll be waiting," she said before he walked away.
As he headed to interview yet another witness, one of his direct reports walked up to him, "It's the President. He wants to speak to you." The man handed Corvin a cellular phone and mouthed Good Luck, before walking away.
Phil rolled his eyes, took another deep breath and promised himself that as soon as he could get away, he was going to buy himself a couple of drinks. Hell, maybe even ask Alex to tag along. "Mr. President, Phil Corvin." As soon as he heard the President's voice, Phil knew he would need more than a couple of drinks-he'd need the entire bar.
XXXXXXXXXX
BR448 sat in the passenger seat quietly as the driver that picked him up drove down the expressway with the siren on. As expected, his backup arrived on time. When the guards waiting for him outside the doors watched a Maine PD patrol car pull up, they thought they had extra back up. Little did they know that the "cop" that stepped out of the car would pull out a semi-automatic and kill them on the spot without hesitation.
The patrol car swerved from one lane to the other as civilian vehicles allowed it to pass. Neither men said a word to each other. It wasn't until BR448 heard a cell phone ring that he finally showed any interest in his surroundings. The driver pulled out a phone from a carrying case he had on his belt and answered it, "I'm listening."
"Are you on time and in route?" he heard a voice from the other side of the line ask.
"I am," he answered without a hint of emotion or hesitation in his tone. He continued driving without taking his eyes off the road.
"BR448?"
"Next to me," the "cop" answered. His dark brown hair was perfectly combed. He had no signs of stress or nerves and his green eyes continued looking ahead.
"You did well BK291."
"Thank you."
"You will be properly rewarded when you return to headquarters. The private plane is waiting for both of you at the airspace on Hammocks. I need to speak to BR448."
He handed the phone to his passenger as he continued driving.
"I'm listening."
"I've heard from sources that your mission was a success."
"Thank you Master," BR448 replied.
"You and BK291 will travel to headquarters. Your mission is complete and you will be relocated to a new area upon your return."
"Yes, Master," he nodded, not bothering to ask why or where he was going.
"I will see you in a few hours," the voice on the other end of the line responded before severing communication.
Once the call was over, BR448 handed the phone back to his companion. The two drove off to catch their plane in continued silence.
XXXXXXXXXX
Jessie watched as the movers carried away the last of her belongings to the moving truck. After lunch, she wasted no time in returning to the University's dorm room to finish packing the rest of her belongings. Looking over at was now an empty room, she walked over to her closet where her carry-on luggage was tucked away in a corner. Pulling it out, she took a deep breath. Tomorrow, she was going home. Back to her family. Back to finish what, ironically, her family had stopped her from doing years earlier. This time she had no doubt she'd succeed.
Suddenly startled when she heard a knock. Jessie turned around and saw Doctor Quest by the door, "Hi Jessie, may I come in?"
"Of course, Doctor Quest, please come in," she answered with a surprised look on her face. "I thought you and Dad were going back to the hotel with mom."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Is everything okay?" the doctor asked concerned.
"No…I mean, yes, everything is fine," Jessie shook her head immediately. "My mind was…elsewhere. I'm sorry. Please come in."
The doctor walked in, "Well, in answer to your question, yes, your parents did. I told your father that I wanted to talk to you in private before we met later, if that's ok," he said. "Is there a place we can go?"
She nodded, putting back the bag in the closet, "There's the garden downstairs, we can go there."
"Sure, let's go."
XXXXXXXXXXX
It was a small garden full of red roses, and white gardenias with fresh green grass all around. There were white benches that stood around the corners of the garden. A few students sat talking, others studying. Luckily, it wasn't too occupied. It made it easier for Jessie and Doctor Quest to speak freely. They both sat down on the first unoccupied bench they saw. Quiet for a moment, Doctor Quest tried to find the words to start the conversation, but found it suddenly hard.
"What is it Doctor Quest?" Jessie asked as she saw her mentor's discomfort.
"I'm very proud of you Jessie," he began. "And I couldn't be happier today. You graduating was as satisfying as if Hadji or Jonny had graduated today."
"Thank you," she answered content by his words. "That means a lot to me."
"You have many options and opportunities at hand," Doctor Quest continued. "I just want to make sure that you take them."
"I'm not sure what you are trying to tell me," Jessie told him looking at her other father figure with concern, "Doctor Quest, please tell me."
"Jessie, there are many companies and organizations that you can work for…I don't want to hold you back because you think we want to keep you with us."
"You don't want me?" Jessie was suddenly shocked.
"No, no!" he quickly answered shaking his head. "On the contrary. I'm excited that you'll be working for me. I just don't want you to feel pressured into working for Quest Industries. If you want to go somewhere else…"
"Absolutely not," the red head shook her head. Looking at him intensely, she told him, "There are two things that I've wanted these last couple of years. One was to work for Quest Industries. Do you remember the first time I joined the team?"
"The Bermuda's. The oil rig that people kept saying was being attacked by ghosts," he responded with nod. "I remember."
Jessie smiled, "Seeing everything that I saw on that mission made me realize that I couldn't be anywhere else. Since then, and the dozens of missions you and Dad have taken me to thereafter, how could you possibly ask me if I really want to work with you? How could I not?"
"There's so much out there that you can experience," Benton continued. "Please do not misconstrue my words. I had the same conversation with Hadji when he graduated and he told me the same thing you are telling me now. If Jonny would have been here, I would have given him the same speech. I just don't want you to feel committed to something that you may not want."
"I want this," Jessie replied passionately. "I've always wanted this. Don't you ever think otherwise," she took her mentor's hand and squeezed it with affection.
Benton squeezed it back, "Your Dad would kill me if he knew we had this conversation. But deep down, I knew he was as worried as I was. I think you are going to be an incredible addition to Quest Industries Jessie. I'm glad and proud to have you."
"Thank you Dr. Quest," she answered with a smile.
There was a moment of pause between the two before Doctor Quest carefully asked, "What's the second reason?"
Jessie's smile fell away, "I think you already know."
Sighing deeply, the doctor replied, "Jonny."
She nodded, letting go of his hand.
"Jessie—"
"I'm not giving up on him," she interrupted him. "I did what you and Dad asked me to do four years ago. You asked me to concentrate on my studies and leave the search to you both. It's time I rejoin you."
The older man's gaze peered Jessie's eyes. He gently, but firmly stated, "You need to realize that what happened wasn't your fault. I've never blamed you for that."
"It doesn't matter," she shook her head morosely, "I mean…I know that you don't blame me, but…" she couldn't bring herself to tell him. How could she tell him that there was more than just a desire to bring back her friend? How could she tell him that what she wanted was to find the love her life, the man who was more than a friend, more than someone she cared for? How could she tell him that the reason she wanted Jonny back was because she had lost her soul? He took it when he disappeared.
Looking at Doctor Quest again, she answered, "I just need…my friend back. He'd do that same for me. I know that he wouldn't stop searching for me."
"I haven't given up either Jessie," Benton responded with as much fervor. "I use all the resources available to me with every new clue to his whereabouts. I will not stop searching for my son." He paused for a bit, carefully structuring the next words, "Even if I bring him back to rest with his mother."
She didn't respond to that because deep in her heart, Jessie felt Jonny was still alive…somewhere. And now that she had more time, resources and experience, she would stop at nothing to find him. Drawing closer to her mentor, she laid her head on his shoulder as her gaze fell to the rose bush in front of them. Sighing gently, she whispered to him, "You won't have to."
XXXXXXXXXX
The top of the bell tower on the north-west area of the cathedral did not allow for too much wind to influence the hit on the target. To kill off some time, DR128 checked the M24 rifle he'd use for the mission. The bullet he was given was already loaded into the firearm. A silencer was also placed at the barrel of the weapon. Perfectly set up on its mark, he realized it wasn't the weapon of his choice, but it was the one they assigned him for this specific mission. Easy to carry, easy to hide.
Earlier in the day, no one noticed him walking about the Square carrying the guitar case. Most of the tourists thought he was a musician just like other musicians making a buck around the area. A young man and his guitar, no one special. It was easy to enter the church carrying a guitar case. He also made sure that if anyone checked the case, they would find what was expected, a guitar. No one would notice that there was another compartment in the case that hid his weapon.
As expected, the target arrived at eleven on the dot. Lev Stanislav walked up the steps of the Kazan Cathedral, looking around like a mouse searching for predators. He looked at the buildings around him. People walked a few yards away from him, but nothing ominous presented itself to him. The poor fool was unaware that from the bell tower, someone watched him.
Stanislav, a man in his mid-fifties, looked rather nervous, even though he tried to hide it well. Again, he looked at some of the tourists that walked the Square, as if trying to discern if they posed a threat to him. About five minutes later, a second man came along. He was a tall man, taller than Stanislav, wearing a black suit and a hat, an attempt to hide his face from those around him. From the top of the bell tower, DR128 recognized the well-disguised man and knew what he would do next. Looking into the scope of the weapon, he watched the proceedings from above.
"Вы были?" Stanislav asked. (Where you followed?)
Нет. Я надеюсь, что вы не были," the second man answered with a sarcastic tone. (No, I hope you weren't either.)
Stanislav smiled arrogantly, "Я лицо как у меня всегда. Всегда защищен." (A person like me is always seen. Always protected.)
"Я надеюсь, что вы, право на,"(I hope you are right) replied the man in the suit, "У вас есть еще один шанс для выкупа, Станислав, все, что вам нужно сделать, - это убедиться в том, что наши проекта остается ... молчание." (You have one more chance at redemption, Stanislav. All you have to do is make sure our project remains...on a need to know basis.)
Stanislav looked at him in question, "Вы угрозу для меня? В Организации Объединенных Наций посла? Смелый, - это не вы. (Are you threatening me? A United Nations Ambassador? Brave, aren't you?)
From the bell tower, he heard laughter and the recognizable figure then said, "Я раньше никогда не угрожает. У меня никогда не было необходимости." (I've never threatened anyone. I've never had the need.")
"Я рад потому, что она будет гораздо легче сказать вам, что я не могу позволить вам продолжать этот проект. Это далеко не достаточно. Люди заслуживают ответы." (I'm glad because it will make it much easier to tell you that I can't allow you to continue this project. This has gone far enough. People deserve answers.)
Nodding, the man in the jacket sighed, "Я понимаю и извините я вас так много горя моего друга. Я уважаю ваше мнение и я покорно связи ваше решение. Делать то, что вам необходимо." (I understand and I'm sorry I've caused you so much grief my friend. I respect your opinion and I humbly accept your decision. Do what you must.)
Stanislav looked at him curiously, "Спасибо. Не лично, а народ. (Thank you. Don't take it personally, it's about the people.)
Looking through the scope of the firearm, he waited for the signal. The square was clearing off, people walked away, the two men were suddenly alone. Finger on the trigger, he waited patiently, not feeling any stress or hesitation. He was ready.
"Затем, я думаю. До тех пор пока, старого друга," the man in the jacket smiled as he tipped off his hat to Stanislav and began to walk away. (Then, I guess this is it. So long, old friend.)
As soon as the man walked away and a clear shot was present, DR128 pulled the trigger. Stanislav fell immediately to the floor. Without so much as looking up, the man in the hat and jacket walked away. Since DR128 had used a silencer, no one heard the sound of the gun. People from afar continued walking along the square without any realization of what had occurred.
Putting the gun away quickly, he took off the jacket and reversed it, showing a dark blue jacket instead of the black he had worn most of the evening. Then, he pulled out the guitar case, took out the guitar, pulled out the compartment where he had hid the gun. He closed up everything quickly before heading down the stairwell of the bell tower and walking down the street, passing an old musician playing his guitar. Minutes later, tourists began to walk toward the steps of the cathedral wondering what was wrong with the man on the ground.
Moments later, when he was safely far away from the Kazan, he heard the screams.
XXXXXXXXXX
Phil Corvin wanted answers. At around four o'clock, a few hours after the Ambassador's assassination, he walked in to the morgue of I-1's Maine Headquarters where Alex looked over the body.
"Tell me you have something," he said as he walked in to the I1 autopsy room where he found Alex sitting by her desk typing her report.
"Phil," Alex answered without looking up, "It's been four hours, what miracles would you have me do?"
"Everyone wants answers Alex. The President wants my head for this and I need something before—"
"I know," she nodded as she held up her hand and interrupted him, "which is why I can give you the cause of death."
"You do have something," he sighed in relief.
The woman smiled, "Don't underestimate me. See that's what broke us up in the first place."
He smiled back, "It isn't an official breakup."
Alex snorted, "Seeing each other on and off every now and again isn't exactly a relationship Phil."
"Do you want more?"
She shook her head, her eyes widening, "Absolutely not!"
"Good. Me either. I like our arrangement," he exhaled sharply. "Now, tell me what you got gorgeous."
She giggled, "Not at work Casanova." After picking up a pair of gloves from a box located at one of the medical tables in the room, she walked over to the examining table where the Ambassador's body lay, "Just performed a blood culture. The Ambassador, died of acute arsenic poisoning," she signaled him to come closer to her as she put the pair of gloves on her hands. "Look at this needle size puncture on the right of his chest," she continued as she pointed the small mark with her gloved hand, "Whatever that child used managed to hit the man straight into the heart. It took seconds for the poison to travel to the bloodstream as well. By the time he hit the floor…" Alex shook her head in regret.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked a bit perturbed.
"Well," she began, "I still have to conduct a full autopsy to confirm, but I'm pretty sure. I'll tell you one thing Corvin, this kid was very savvy and what he used was lethal. I've never seen arsenic act this quick unless it is consumed in great quantity and even then death is pretty painful. I don't think the Ambassador knew what hit him. Did CSI find anything around the body the size of a needle?"
Phil shook his head, "I don't think so. Wouldn't the needle embed itself inside the body?"
"I checked and found nothing." Looking up the man, she firmly stated, "There has to be something…maybe he took the murder weapon with him…whatever it was." Both were quiet for a moment before the woman finally spoke out, "I'm wondering, what this kid used to shoot the man in the heart?"
Phil replayed the scene in his mind. The kid walked out the door by the concourse, angry, yelling. He walked up to us, trying to cause…"He was trying to divert attention," Phil whispered.
"What?" Alex asked watching Phil lost in thought for a moment.
He tried to be aggressive, even became arrogant when speaking on the phone in front of us.
"Corvin, are you alright?" the doctor asked as she looked at her colleague, sometimes lover, who seemed far away in thought.
What was this kid carrying? He had no luggage, no bags….he couldn't have been carrying a gun. Phil ran the scenario again and again in his mind. The kid carried nothing….except…."His phone!" Corvin quickly replied.
"What?" Alex asked again.
"The weapon," Corvin replied excitedly. "It was his phone."
XXXXXXXXXX
Claire looked at the room in awe, "Whoa, this room is amazing!" The two young women would share a room at the Watergate for a night. The room, filled with antique furniture, a small living area and two queen sized beds, felt like a blast from the past. But, both girls felt its elegance despite the past era it simulated.
Jessie smiled. "The perks of working for Quest Industries," she responded sitting down on her bed.
Claire sighed as she continued to look around the room, "I just can't believe I'm here."
"What do you mean?" Jessie asked half laughing.
The young blonde turned around looking solemn, her jovial constant demeanor suddenly changed, "Jessie, I never…" tears began to roll down her eyes.
Immediately Jessie ran to her, "Claire, what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry. This is so unlike me. I'm a total clown," Claire replied trying to lighten the mood.
"No, no you're not," Jessie told her. "Come on," she guided her to the edge of the bed and sat next to her, "You're the strongest woman I know. It's okay to let it out sometimes."
Claire shook her head and took a deep breath before she steadied herself, "I just never thought I'd achieve so much. You know…I wish Mom and Dad could have been here."
"They would have been proud," Jessie nodded with a sympathetic smile.
"They taught me that I could be strong and…" she couldn't finish and she cried some more.
Claire's mother and father, Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Somerville were killed in a plane crash when she was fifteen. Both were prestigious lawyers for the District D.A's office in Texas, the couple worked diligently to put most of the state's garbage behind bars. Their last trial involved putting away, Jose "Pancho" Lopez, a member of the drug cartel that had been caught for transporting almost three million dollars' worth of cocaine to the states.
The trial was going well. Anthony and his wife, Yvette, partnered up in this case, Anthony being the lead prosecutor. They were sure to get a conviction. Two weeks before the trial was scheduled to end, both Anthony and Yvette travelled to Mexico on a small Cessna plane to question a witness who was unable to travel to the states. The woman, Cecilia Campi, was doing time in a woman's penitentiary for selling drugs in her cantina. Drugs she received from "Pancho". They got her testimony and even more proof of Lopez's involvement in smuggling other drugs to the states. On their way back to Texas, their plane mysteriously crashed.
The Sommerville couple died instantly along with their pilot. Lopez denied any involvement with the mysterious circumstances of the crash, but he couldn't help to smile when he heard the news. The smile withered quickly when he found out that Yvette, being the type A personality that she was, emailed Campi's testimony to the paralegal handling the case at the DA's office. After their deaths, the lawyers that replaced them took over and used the proof against him. In the end, Lopez was convicted and sentenced to fifty-five years in the state penitentiary without the possibility of parole.
Anthony and Yvette's mysterious deaths remain unsolved. Claire never bothered wasting her time and energy trying to solve it. In her mind Lopez killed her parents and now, even though he was not doing time for their deaths, he was doing time. He'd die in prison; that was enough to satisfy her.
One of the attorneys in the DA's office, Miguel Llama, was very close to her parents. He briefs her every year on Lopez. If there is ever the possibility of Lopez getting a new trial, Claire asked to know. She would do anything in her power to keep the bastard in. She knew her parents would want her to and she didn't want to disappoint them. After the funerals, Claire lived sometime with long distance family members. But, after a while, the young girl decided that the best course for her would be to be on her own. She spoke to Miguel and he took legal guardianship of her. Claire asked to be put in boarding school where she'd spend the next three years on her own, but at least she'd have a roof over her head and people her age, who she could get along with. Vacations and holidays were spent with the Llama family or with long distance relatives, although the latter did not happen very often.
The greatest gift that Claire's parents gave her was that they had not only left her financially stable, but also emotionally strong. They left her a trust fund with enough money to set her comfortably for life. Miguel made sure to transfer all access to her by the time she turned eighteen (It also helped that Miguel watched her grow up and turn out to be a pretty responsible kid). The Sommervilles also left her with stocks and bonds that contributed to her financial well-being. Economically, Claire was set. But, as she always told her best friend, the greatest gift her parents gave her was strength, capability and independence.
Pulling her friend closer to her, Jessie whispered, "What Claire? You can tell me."
"I'm scared," she shrugged. "Sometimes, I don't think I'm good enough for this, Jessie?"
"Claire, please!"
"I mean it! I don't think I'm smart enough and the last thing I would ever want is to be a charity case for Doctor Quest. Do you really think I'm good enough to be his Research Assistant?"
"Well, let's see. You managed to pull a double major in archeology and biology and you're going to do your Master's at the University of Maine while pulling full time work with one of the most prestigious scientists in the world. Not to mention that your internship with him was one of the hardest any student has ever done in School of Arts and Sciences…this according to three of your professors." Jessie shrugged dramatically, "I don't know Claire, with just that…I don't think you're good enough."
Then, she shook her head, "Come on, even Miguel was impressed when he heard about all your accomplishments the last time he visited you. But, if three professors and your guardian, who happens to be the most prominent District Attorney in Texas aren't enough to convince you…."
"Shut up!" Claire giggled. "You know what I mean."
"You are awesome and you're going to be awesome. Doctor Quest was very impressed and I assure you that he wouldn't have offered you Hadji's old job if you didn't deserve it. "
"I guess," Claire let out a heavy sigh. "It's hard you know. I've been on my own for so long, it's hard to differentiate if people think you are good or if they feel sorry for you because they see an orphan."
"Doctor Quest has never seen you that way," Jessie reasoned. "I guarantee it. Put your mind at ease. And if Miguel heard you right now, he'd set you straight. Too bad, he and the family couldn't make it today."
Miguel at this point was going through his own challenges. His wife Maureen was pregnant and bedridden for the rest of the third trimester of her pregnancy. Miguel was too afraid to leave her side and Claire understood. It was their first baby and she herself was overjoyed to have a little sister she could spoil. They agreed to celebrate her graduation after the baby was born. Claire looked at her Jessie, "Maureen called me last night. She feels guilty for not being able to be here, but I told her it was okay and I was alright. Making sure the baby is okay is priority. Besides, I'll be there in a few months to celebrate with them." The girl sighed, "I'm being a complete idiot. You're right Red. I'm ready. Disregard this moment of insanity."
Jessie hugged her, "That's my girl!"
Laughing a bit and feeling better, Claire asked, "What do you think Hadji will do now that I've taken his job permanently?"
"Don't get too cocky. At some point, you're going to be taking orders from the soon to be Doctor Hadji Singh." Her friend answered. "Actually, that might go for the two of us."
Claire didn't share this with Jessie, but she wouldn't mind taking certain orders from the soon to be doctor. "Hey, Jess, thanks. I feel better."
"Good. I'm glad to hear." Jessie nodded happily.
"Okay, I'm over this mushy stuff!" Claire told her with a smile as she let go of her friend and wiped away her tears. "Now, I've been wanting to know, what did you and Doctor Quest discuss earlier today?"
"You knew he went to the dorm?"
Jessie's friend nodded, "On the way back from returning the keys the RA, I overheard you guys before I reached the entrance of our room. You two sounded serious so I walked to the rec room and stayed there for a while watching TV. Then, I saw when you both walk out of the building and head to the gardens. Kind of thought you needed some time alone."
The red head nodded, "He wanted to make sure that he wasn't pushing me into working for him."
"Why would he think that?" Claire asked rather curiously.
Jessie sighed, "We've all been together for so long that I guess he just didn't want me to feel I had to stay him and Dad."
"Can I ask you something?" Claire asked growing quiet again. Jessie looked at her; her emerald green eyes curious to know what her friend would ask, "Why are you staying?"
"Claire!"
"Don't get me wrong Jess. You know I don't mean it that way," Claire defended herself. "But, part of me has always thought that there's a reason as to why you are really staying. You can look for Jonny without actually working for Quest Industries, you and I both know that. And in certain ways, it would be easier. What's the real reason you're going back?"
Jessie remained quiet for a moment before answering, "I have to make things right." Claire didn't reply, she continued listening to her friend. "And, I feel closer to him when I'm there. I feel that leaving would put me farther away from him." Jessie's eyes began to water and this time Claire drew her surrogate sister close to her, "I need to find him Claire. He's out there somewhere and I have to help him. I might be able to find other sources outside Quest Industries to find him, but Quest world is the only tool capable of doing it at a faster rate and I need every available resource to do this."
"Jessie, your dad and Doctor Quest have used Quest World for five years and they've been unable to find him. What would make it different now that you're there?"
The red head gently pulled away from her friend and stood up from the bed. Walking over to her suitcase she opened the zipper and retrieved a small silver disk, "Quest World doesn't have this?"
"Jessie," Claire looked at her with worried eyes. "What is that?"
"It's the key to finding Jonny."