Star Trek Voyager characters are the property of Paramount pictures

Switched

Chapter 24

"You know what this means," Voyager's former EMH said to Kathryn that evening. "A serious cut down on coffee."

"Already given it up," she smiled. "Well, the caffeinated variety."

"Glad to hear it. You will also need to eat regular meals, take daily vitamins, exercise, and take time to relax."

"All and everything," Kathryn promised.

The Doctor looked again at the picture of the baby and then scanned his patient, as though to confirm the baby really was there. "Remarkable," he said. "Given the extent of your injuries, this tiny one should not have survived. She truly is a little miracle."

Suddenly a double door slid open and a nurse came in with a man. He was tall, broad, ruggardly handsome with wavy gray hair and a short-shaven beard, and he was wearing a brown cowboy hat, a red and white checkered shirt, and worn blue jeans.

"This is Detective Vic Elliot," the nurse said.

The detective took off his hat. "Good evening, Ma'am. Doctor."

"The detective would like to talk to you, Captain," the nurse continued, "if you're up to it."

"I am," Kathryn said.

The Doctor spoke. "But as her physician, finally recognized as such by this establishment, I must ask you not to keep the Captain talking too long, detective. She needs to rest."

"I won't," the detective assured him.

"In that case, I'll leave you both to it. Good evening, Captain."

"You too, Doctor," she smiled.

The Doctor then left with the nurse, leaving Kathryn alone with the detective.

"I really can't tell you any more than I told your colleagues earlier," she said. "I only got a quick look at the man who attacked me and it was all over in minutes."

"I'm not here to question you," the detective answered. "I'd like to show you something."

Kathryn gestured to the chair beside her bed. "Then show away."

The Detective sat down and pulled out a padd from a belt pouch. "A picture says more than a thousand words," he said, fiddling with the padd. "I'd like you to tell me if this was the man that attacked you."

He handed the padd to Kathryn and she looked at the screen. On it was a picture of a bulky man with short blonde hair and cold blue eyes.

"No," she replied. "I've never seen this man before."

The detective looked disappointed. "I see."

"Is it Taron?"

"No," he answered. "It's someone we believe works for him. A positive identification would obviously have confirmed that."

"The man who attacked me was younger," Kathryn recalled. "And he was..." a memory suddenly flashed back to her. "He had green eyes...very distinctive green eyes."

The detective brightened at this, took the padd, and pulled up another picture. "Was it this man?"

The picture was of a bald man with emerald green eyes. Kathryn shuddered as she looked into them. "Yes," she said. "This was him."

"Bingo!" the detective smiled. "We've hit the jackpot."

"Who is he?"

"Taron's brother. Well, who we think is Taron's brother. Taron is a nickname, just as Vonra is evidently Cayla's. But we've always been pretty certain who he is and you've just confirmed it."

"What is Cayla involved in? I understand if you can't give me details, but could you give me a general overview? Through no fault of my own I've been dragged into this and would like to know what exactly 'this' is."

"That's another reason I'm here. We...the operation team and I...feel it's only right you should know what Cayla's involved in as your life might still be at risk. But it's imperative that what I tell you goes no further than your immediate family."

"You have my word," Kathryn answered. "So, tell me, what line of business is Taron in?"

"Drugs. He's a drug lord. He illegally imports a drug called farvin from a colony in the former demilitarized zone. It's more powerful than heroine and cocaine combined. It's caused the death of hundreds and devastated the lives of more." He paused. "Cayla and I go way back. We started in the force together and were personally involved aswell as professionally. She was a damn fine officer, the best I ever knew, and moved up the ranks faster than a torpedo hits its target. Her way of doing things wasn't by the book, but she got results where no one else could. As a result she made some enemies, both within the force and without. One of those was Taron."

"I see," Kathryn said.

"Fifteen years ago there was a powerful drug lord called Ranto who we just couldn't track down. Cayla was brought in on the case, I'm sorry to say at my recommendation, and in weeks had caught him. He went to trial and was sent to jail for twelve years. While the identity of undercover agents was confidential, Ranto had friends in the force who told him Cayla was responsible for catching him. Ranto had friends everywhere, that's what made him so powerful and so difficult to catch as information was leaked to him. We knew there was a leak in the force, but didn't know who. Ranto's mates fixed things to make it look like the leak was Cayla. I knew it wasn't, and so did many others, but the faked evidence was so overwhelming that our superior had no choice but to act on it. Of course she was kicked out of the force, but that wasn't the worst of it. Her case went to court and she was sentenced to four years imprisonment." He paused. "That was the beginning of the end for Cayla. Everything in her life fell apart, including our relationship. I still loved her, and did my best to support her, but she shut me out completely. I couldn't do anything right. I resigned from the force in show of support, but she wanted me to go back saying we couldn't let Ranto butt out with one kick two kick-ass coppers. I told her we could start over somewhere new when she got out, but she'd have none of it. She called it off between us and there was nothing I could do to change her mind. I went back to the force and she served her sentence."

"I had no idea," Kathryn said sadly. "I'm sorry. She told me she'd been stitched up and kicked out of the force but not that she'd been to jail."

"I tried to go and see her when she was inside, but she wouldn't see me. When she wouldn't I wrote to her, but she never answered my letters." He paused sadly. "When she came out I went to her apartment, she was living in a complex for released convicts in Houston, but she'd changed so much I hardly recognized her. She had always been such a smart woman, had always taken such pride in her appearance, but the woman she'd become was a mess. Her beautiful auburn hair, which she'd always worn up in a bun, was shaved off, and she was covered in tattoos. I'd gone there hoping for...I don't know, maybe to see if we could make a go of things, but she wouldn't give me the time of day. What happened to her afterwards I've only heard on the grapevine. But the irony is she became the very kind of person she'd worked her butt off to save from the likes of Ranto. She developed a drinking problem, got in with a rough crowd, started taking drugs, and did nothing but doss. An overdose followed, on purpose or not I don't know, but she went to re-hab and managed to kick the habit. Then she had a couple of kids from guys who didn't stick around, but social services took then away after a boyfriend hospitalized her. Cayla chucked the guy, but neighbors had reported she was often drunk and social workers felt she was an unfit mother. The tragedy is she probably was. A suicide attempt followed and that ruined any chance she had of getting her kids back. They were put up for adoption."

"Cayla told me about that, said they'd been adopted by a couple in Kansas."

"So I was told." He put his padd back in the belt pouch. "I suppose you're wondering what all this has to do with Taron. Well, everything. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Taron is an anagram of Ranto. Three years ago Ranto, aka Grant Merellus, finished his sentence and was released from jail. We knew he'd go back to his old habits, old dogs always do, and sure enough two years ago our spies started hearing of a drug lord called Taron. But they also started hearing of the exceptional bad luck that seemed to plague him. In two years five of his drug carrying ships caught fire and his cargo was incinerated. Taron knew it had to be an inside job and a few months ago word reached us that he'd found out the culprit was a woman called Vonra. We thought she was someone working for another drug lord, and no doubt he did, but following the attack on you we figured out this Vonra was Cayla. No doubt she felt that by destroying his cargo she would be settling a personal score and doing something to protect society from scum like him. It was dangerous, but guts was never something Cayla was lacking."

"So that's why she attacked Chakotay," Kathryn said, trying to absorb everything. "She thought Taron had found her."

"That's right. But he clearly had no idea that Vonra was Cayla or she would have been worm-food long before now. Cayla was always brilliant, a mistress of disguise, it's just unfortunate for her that..."

Kathryn finished the sentence he seemed reluctant to. "Voyager got home and my face was everywhere."

"Exactly. While you'd been on the news from time to time over the past seven years, it was never in the same quantity as you've been recently. The chances are Taron and his cronies had never heard of you before your return, or if they had heard of you had no idea what you looked like, but since you've been so high profile since you got back, it would make it so much easier for Taron to find Vonra. If someone, anyone, knew what Vonra looked like, then all he'd have to do is give the word for someone to hunt down a Janeway lookalike. Unfortunately for you, Cayla must have given Vonra a black bob, so when one of Taron's scouts spotted you at the castle, he passed the word on. Cayla was in the force long enough to know that people are seldomly recognized by relative strangers if they look entirely different. The brain registers an impression, not a precise photograph, vague impressions like hair color, style of clothes, weight. If those are different, a person can pass by unrecognized. For Taron to have sent a hit, he must have been absolutely certain you were Vonra, which means the person who spotted you may well have met her."

"I did see someone looking at me," Kathryn said. "A man. He was scrutinizing me while I dined with Chakotay. But I didn't think anything of it as I'm getting used to being looked at."

"It won't be long now before Taron makes the connection between Vonra and Cayla, and she knows it too. That's why she's fled. We can't find any trace of her. And if she doesn't want to be found, we have no hope in hell of finding her. The consolation is, neither does Taron." He paused. "But Taron is the epitome of evil. If he can use you to get to Cayla, he will. For that reason, we'll give you armed guard until he's caught. We're doing the same with Lacey's family and the family who has adopted Cayla's children."

"I appreciate the care," Kathryn said, " but for how long? Weeks, months, years? I don't want to live in a cage."

"Weeks at most. Now we're sure Taron is Grant Merellus, it's only a matter of time before we catch him. Word is he's personally escorting a shipment to Earth sometime in the next couple of months. We'll get him then. It will seal our case to catch him red handed."

"And what about afterwards? From what you've told me, Taron can operate from prison. As long as he's alive, Cayla will never be safe. And as long as Cayla isn't safe, neither will I be."

"Once we have him, we'll make it very clear to him that if anything happens to you, we'll point the finger right at him. We'll make the same threat regarding Lacey, her family, and Cayla's children. Taron's evil, but he's clever. That's why he's so elusive. He'll know where to draw the line. His target is Cayla, no one else, so it's Cayla he'll pursue. He'll never let the grudge go and Cayla knows that. If she values her life, we'll never hear of her again. No doubt she's a completely different person now...new name, new appearance, new voice. I just hope her new identity brings her more happiness than the old." The detective lost himself in thought for a moment, then he got to his feet. "Well, I've taken up enough of your time. Thank you for your co-operation. If you remember anything else, anything at all, no matter how small, give us a call. I'm sorry you've got drawn into this and wish you a speedy recovery."

"Thank you," Kathryn said. "And thank you for telling me the full story."

For a moment he looked at her as though he was looking at someone else, at someone dear he had lost, and then he gave a sad smile. "Get well soon, Captain."

Without another word, he left.

END OF CHAPTER 24