Chapter 6 – Dreams are My Reality

Mary listened attentively as Evan Nickels delivered the latest fugitive update on James Willington via speakerphone. They had received reasonably reliable information that he was headed to the southwest. Rat bastard must have girls stashed in every part of the country. At least they were talkative girls. A confirmed knocking of the boots had taken place in Wichita Falls, Texas. He was being tracked west on I-40. Mary's gut feel was his likely destination was Albuquerque. Mary, Schwartz from Philadelphia and a marshal from Lexington would be flying to Albuquerque as soon as the meeting wrapped up. A team was being assembled in the Duke City and they were going to take this fucknut of an asshole down.

This had been a long troubled pursuit, but they were closing in, she could feel it in her bones. She had spoken at length privately with Evan and she was given clearance to stay on the case whatever and wherever it took. Evan had also mentioned that her mother had taken to calling the office and asked could she please get her to stop. She was haranguing poor Bruce. Mary pinched her nose, the start of a headache making itself felt. Her mother. She hadn't told her she was going out of town. Jinx was a grown woman. Why couldn't she take care of herself?

The plane to Albuquerque was mercifully sparsely filled. Mary saw with relief she had a row all to herself. Reclining the seat back, she closed her eyes, running all the scenarios through her head for the next day's raid. She was *not* going to have another fuckup. The flight attendant's familiar spiel was broadcast over the speaker system and Mary plugged in her iPod.

She was sitting at a desk, leaving a message for Brandi. Worry gnawing at her gut. The tall man walked over as she hung up.

"You just going to sit there staring into space all night?" He was watching her with a hint of a smile.

"Just might. Why, you going to leave early and pretend you have a life?" She tossed the barb back with the ease of long acquaintance.

"I have many lives." The smile broadened a bit. He was enjoying this exchange.

"Do I wanna know?" Heavy exhalation of breath.

"Tonight, I study with the master." Excitement was evident as he brought his hands out from behind his back.

"Study what?" He placed a small red origami crane on her keyboard. It balanced there delicately daring her to upset it. She glanced up at him.

"Oh God, seriously? I was really hoping that was something you'd grow out of."

"Sadly, it's becoming a bigger and bigger part of my waking life. You have to admit it's good though." He looked quite pleased with himself.

"You're a grown man folding and cutting paper." Faint hint of derision.

"Correction, folding only. Cutting is kerigami, considered by origami artists to be the easier, and, therefore inferior path."

"Oh, origami. See, I thought you were doing kerigami. So origami's the sexy one right?" She got the reaction she was aiming for and smiled. He really was rather lovely.

"Goodnight." He smiled as he turned back towards his desk.

"Night." She picked the fragile crane up and inspected it, impressed in spite of herself. His dexterous fingers apparently had talents of which she was unaware.

Mary woke as the plane started its descent into Albuquerque, images of long slender fingers slowly fading from her mind.

Mary reported back to Evan once she reached her motel room. Willington had moved to a house near the Old Town and was under the watchful eye of the Albuquerque PD. There was not an FTF office in Albuquerque, but Mary was told she could have the use of several local marshals, plus the local constabulary. She met with Marshal Thomas Jelen along with her marshals she had picked up in Philly and Lexington and they laid out plans for the next day, coming up with contingencies for the most far fetched scenarios Mary could think of. Thomas promised her an additional two marshals the next day.

"I have an additional resource I can tap when need be," he had told her somewhat cryptically.

At the end of her conversation with Evan she inquired after Bruce. Evan hesitated.

"Bruce has something on his mind. He's been acting weird. I think he's going to ask to be transferred from you, Mary." Mary shrugged. Not a surprise.

"Do me a favor," she said slowly, "don't give Bruce the latest update. He's not involved in the op and doesn't need to know." Evan frowned and gripped the phone tighter.

"Something I need to know about?" The question was sharp.

"Gut feel, Evan. I think we have a leak. Just checking out a theory."

"You think Bruce is passing information to Willington?" Incredulous.

Mary was silent a moment. "I think there may be some kind of link. Willington has been just that one step ahead of us for months. He can't be that lucky. He's been getting a tip off. And there is a small pool of people that have had the details on each of the raids. Bruce isn't actively involved now, and doesn't need to know." The phone line was loud in the absence of Evans' response. Finally, he sighed.

"Okay. I'll keep a little closer eye on him too."

"Thanks, Evan. I'll check in tomorrow after we have this wrapped up."

Marshall skimmed through his inbox, quickly cataloging the e-mails that had arrived overnight. Noting a witness that would need a visit, he updated his Blackberry, then moved on to the daily ops updates. He glanced through, looking for any new information on the Willington case. His eyebrows raised in surprise as he saw the last sighting was in Wichita Falls and the suspect was believed to be heading west. Getting up, Marshall stuck his head in Stan's office.

"Stan, do you have any information on a fugitive case, name of Willington?" Stan looked up in surprise and handed over the bulletin he had been perusing.

"Seems there is reason to believe the suspect may be heading to Albuquerque. Marshal Jelen at District Headquarters has asked if I could loan a couple men if it becomes necessary. There's a big trial going on this week and he's a little short of manpower." He waited expectantly for Marshall to explain his interest.

"I'm in," Marshall said, studying the bulletin, "I've been following the ops updates and looks like this guy has led the Service on a merry chase. Caused some embarrassment too. I'd like to see the take-down."

He ambled back out to his desk and re-read the ops reports, noting the details and participant names. He pulled up a map of the United States to track the fugitive's movements. Studied the general westward movement. Wondered if there was a game plan or if this was just random running. Frowning, he looked back through the reports, found two mentions of lady friends. He wondered where the lady friend in the southwest was located.

Getting up to refresh his coffee mug, he leaned against the counter as he waited for the pot to finish brewing, the aroma of fresh Folgers filling his nostrils. He closed his eyes a moment, allowing his thoughts to return to the previous night's dream.

They were sitting in the conference room, a new witness across the table from Marshall. The blonde (Mary?) had a bottle of a green drink which she periodically raised to her lips and took an unwilling swig.

"Is there anything in what we just covered you don't understand?" She was curt, irritable.

"Yeah. I'm a little unclear why you're drinking that swill." The witness was looking at her with a gleam in his eye that Marshall didn't care for.

"I'm a little unclear why you think it's any of your business. Come on. Time to see your new home." She stood up and moved towards the door.

"I can't wait to see what kind of castle on the hill 60 bucks a day gets you in Albuquerque." The witness was gazing at her ass. Marshall joined him in a quick glance before turning a disgruntled eye on him.

"You should stop thinking whatever it is you're thinking." Marshall warned in a low tone. It bothered him far more than it should that the witness was displaying such open interest in his partner.

"Oh. Come on, man. You mean to tell me you have a partner that looks like that and you still get pissy when guys check her out? Maybe you're the one that needs to stop thinking what you're thinking." The witness looked at him incredulously, tacitly calling him on his BS.

"Hey. Let's go. Marshall, you coming?" The blonde looked at him expectantly and he blushed, turning away.

"I have work to do." He was angry with Eps, angry with himself.

"Suit yourself. Come on, Eps." She walked away, both men gazing after her.

"You're going to make yourself crazy." The witness looked at him with a touch of pity. Marshall cringed. Eps was right. He was already making himself crazy.

He opened his eyes as the coffee pot beeped at him and took his fresh cup to his desk, mentally bracing himself for one of his least favorite witnesses. After updating some notes, he gathered his coat and scarf, stuck his head in Stan's office to let him know he was leaving. Marshall made his witness visit, once again lamenting the absence of a partner. The witness was difficult. Crabby, petulant, critical. Not pleasant to be around and it was nice to have another person to share the abuse. He was a little on edge today, the dream disturbing him more than he liked to admit. After rather sharply suggesting to his witness that some solutions in life have to come from within and not from without, he headed back to the office.

Stan waved him into his office when he returned, noting the slightly pinched look on his senior marshal's face. Making a mental note to review the file again on the FTF marshal from Newark, Stan handed Marshall the request he had received for backup.

"This is moving faster than expected. That came in over lunch. Willington is confirmed in a rental over on Old Town Road. Raid is on for tomorrow. Gear up at 6:30 at APD." Marshall nodded, a smile flitting across his face. He hadn't been on a raid in awhile. It would be good to get back in the field like this. He left Stan's office with a spring in his step. Stan stared at the bulletin, his eye running down the names of those involved and slowly backed up to read one name again, his right hand reaching out to snag the file he had on the top of his desk for review. He flipped the file open, compared the particulars and smiled.