Warning: The chapter depicts a sexual relationship without the graphic details. If you prefer to read the more graphic version, you can find it at WWOMB or AO3. Thank you for reading. I want to wish you all a very happy holiday season!
Chapter 17
Roy looked around the room, seeing a mixture of curiosity, eagerness, and dogged determination on the faces of his crewmates. "We're listening."
Lieutenant Crockett coughed into his closed fist, unsure of how to tell the assembled group the details of the plan. "Ahua… Ahem… I, uh… Well, first… I need to find out from each of you… This has to be kept top secret. No one… and I do mean no one can find out. Agreed?"
Rebecca Stanley was the first to speak up. "Do the ladies need to leave the room?"
"No," both Ron and Iris said, simultaneously. The two exchanged quick glances.
"I think Iris needs your support, Mrs. Stanley, and… This is going to take everyone here, working together, to pull it off." Ron looked at Iris, encouraged by her grateful, albeit faint, smile.
Iris crossed her arms, hugging her abdomen as she waited for the plan to be revealed. "But… I don't understand. You said that the FBI was involved, so can't they just go in and get them out?"
"No, they can't," Ron said, his face growing solemn. "Lily and Johnny have done nothing wrong, which means they can't be arrested… And to swoop in and remove them against their will is… well… kidnapping."
"Oh," Iris said, pondering the situation. "I guess I never thought about it that way. I suppose it would be bad for law enforcement officers to be involved in a kidnapping, huh?"
"Yes, it's frowned upon when those charged with enforcing the law actually break it," Ron said.
"Okay, you said you needed our agreement to keep this, uh, mission a secret. I'll start," Hank Stanley began. "I agree."
"Me, too," Rebecca added.
Crockett's dark eyes followed the round of voices as everyone took a turn agreeing with his request. The final person to comment was the woman who had brought them all together.
"Agreed," Iris said, her voice sounding a bit stronger. "Thank you all for this… I've… I've never felt so much…, um…"
"Support?" Joanne spoke up, crossing the room and sitting lightly on the edge of the chair Iris was occupying. She wrapped her arms around her former employer. "We're a family, Iris. And now that we know about the relationship between you, Lily, and Johnny… Like Marco said – you're a part of the 51 family, too."
"And family members are there for each other," Mike added, giving Lexi a brief nod.
"No matter what," Marco chimed in, grasping Beverly's hand.
"In good times and bad," Chet spoke up, pulling Caroline in a little tighter.
"Forever," Roy said, his blue eyes staring lovingly at his wife.
Looking around the room at his men, Hank had never felt closer to them than at this moment. "No matter how bad the run may be, we do our best to save life, property, and see that we all get home safely," he said, feeling a lump forming in his throat. Somehow, he managed to push past it, his breath hitching with his final statement. "And we're willing to risk our own lives to save that of a victim, or a brother."
The room fell silent for a moment, until Ron spoke up once again. "Very well… Here's what you're going to have to do…"
"Wait, wait, wait… Aren't you gonna help us?" Chet asked the detective, perplexed when Ron didn't include himself in the plan.
"Yes… but the biggest part of this mission, you, fellas, are gonna have to handle without me. I can make all the arrangements, but at the end of the day… It's gonna be in your hands. That's why it has to be top secret, okay? Legally, I can't even know about it."
"Legally? You said that LEGALLY you can't know about it… Is this something illegal?" Chet asked, lifting his eyebrows.
All eyes were on the lieutenant causing his concern for Johnny and Lily to increase; would the men from 51's still agree to participate when they found out the plan?
"Well… Possibly, but… It may be the only chance they have. Now… are you in, or aren't you?"
Crockett looked at the stunned faces, seeing each one pondering his question. "If any one of you decide not to do this, then I beg of you… Don't participate, but please do NOT stand in the way, or tell anyone about what's going down, okay?"
Beverly, seeking clarification, spoke up first. "So… We're talking about deprogramming, not exit counseling, right?"
"What's the difference?" The detective asked, unaware that the two approaches were very different.
"There's a big difference. Exit counseling is when the cult member chooses to listen to the counselor who is trying to help them see through the false teachings. They can walk away at any time. Deprogramming is when… When the member has no choice in the matter." Beverly saw Crockett grimace, his lips thinning as he pressed them together anxiously.
"Then yes, it's deprogramming," the detective commented.
"It's kidnapping," Roy said, saying the word they were all thinking of.
"Jeezus," Mike said, rubbing his forehead. "No wonder you said the FBI couldn't do it."
"You can't be seriously considering kidnapping them, can you?" Joanne asked, stunned by what she was hearing. It was bad enough to have her husband risk his life fighting fires, but… Kidnapping was something completely different, even if the proposed victims included a fellow firefighter and family friend.
"Figures… Send in the firemen to do the work that cops are too scared to do," Chet remarked, sarcastically.
"We aren't doing this as firemen; we're doing it as Johnny's friends," Hank responded, hoping to prevent his younger linemen from saying anything else that Lieutenant Crockett might find offensive.
"Exactly, but you will do it, right?" Crockett asked.
"I can't answer for the rest of my men, Ron. We've got families, and… Someone could get hurt… Or worse," the captain responded.
"Or lose our freedom, if we get caught," Marco added, well aware that kidnapping would mean a certain prison sentence.
"That's the part that my federal friends and I will be playing. You won't get caught, but…"
His hesitation made all the other men look at him questioningly.
"But?" Roy asked.
"But if Johnny or Lily chooses, then they could file charges against you."
"Ugh," Chet groaned.
"Why can't we just sit down with them and talk this out?" Beverly questioned, well aware of the dangers involved when a person was forcibly removed from their environment.
"They won't listen," Iris grumbled. "I couldn't even reason with Johnny. He was more determined to go back to that God-forsaken place than to see Chris in the hospital!" She said in a raised voice. "That's the kind of hold they've got on the members. It's… It's unbelievable!"
"Yes… It is…," Beverly huffed, trying to find a way to reach the group, to offer another solution besides forcing Johnny and Lily to leave the group. They needed to be convinced to leave, not be forced into the back of a van in the middle of the night. "It's also horribly cruel," the counselor said, looking around the room. "Look at it through their eyes. We've all just heard about what happened to Johnny and Lily when they were teenagers. They were a part of history, but they paid a heavy price, emotionally. Now you all want to subject them to another horror. Maybe Johnny will be angry, but probably not afraid once he recognizes you. However, what about Lily? We're all strangers to her. Her uncle was abducted by strangers and murdered. She saw horrible atrocities committed against black people by white people in Selma. Most of us in this room are white. She'll be completely terrified, and traumatized all over again! And… Think about Johnny's heritage for a moment. Forcibly removing him from a place he wants to be sounds a little too familiar for American Indians, doesn't it? Do you really want to do this to them? Is it fair to them? No," she said, feeling the tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks as she continued her emotional argument. "I know you love them; I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voices, but… This is wrong. Please don't do it."
Crockett looked at the down-turned faces in the room. No one was looking at him, and no one was talking. Now that he had heard Beverly's comments, he didn't want to be involved in this plan, either. "You, uh… You make some good points, Ms. Marsh. I'm not trying to put you on the spot, but how do you recommend handling it?"
She pinched the bridge of her nose, pondering the situation. When she rescued women from a life of prostitution, she helped them escape from their bondage, but she never resorted to kidnapping one of them. She offered them a way out, and sometimes they went back to the life they knew. Sometimes they stayed out of the business for the rest of their life, but it was always their choice. She merely removed them from their toxic environment, allowing them to think for themselves without the duress of their pimps' complete control.
Iris sniffled, feeling as if her one chance to rescue Lily and Johnny were slipping through her hands. "Please… We can't just leave them there. Help me get them back, please?" she begged, her voice fading into a whisper.
"Okay, I haven't figured out all the details yet, but I've got an idea," Beverly piped up.
"And if it doesn't work?" Iris asked, dabbing a tissue beneath her eyes again.
"It will," the counselor stated, confidently. "It has to."
E!
At the Holistic Unity Gardens compound, Johnny had showered and was walking across the cold wooden floor to his bed. The day had been a busy one, his muscles aching as if he had been fighting a high-rise inferno. His back was beginning to bother him again, and he feared he might have strained the same muscles he had injured when he fell from the tree. His shoulders slumped as he thought about Lily. He had not been allowed to see her since the day of his initiation. If Father Hiram had been truthful with him then her isolation period would soon be over. He longed to see her again, to make sure that she was okay after her punishment.
James saw how his newest convert carried himself, as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders. "Are you okay, Brother John?"
"Yea… Jus' a little achy 's all," Johnny said, not looking at James as he slowly lowered himself to his bunk.
"Did you drink your tea? It will help with the pain," James stated.
"Nah, I jus' need a couple o' aspirin, an' I'll be a'right," Johnny drawled.
"We only use our faith in Father Hiram and natural remedies here, no aspirin," the older man commented, passing a cup to his hurting friend. "Here, drink this. It will help you relax, so you can rest."
"Is it willow bark?" Johnny asked, grimacing in pain as he looked up at James. The other man was silhouetted by the glow of the gas lantern behind him.
James raised an eyebrow. "You know your herbs."
"Yea… I do."
Johnny had spent the day watering the plants inside a couple of the greenhouses in addition to mending a fence for the livestock. He recognized a few of the herbs growing there, and his suspicions were growing, especially about Gretchen and her sudden change of heart. For the time being, he needed to remain silent on the subject, but he was planning on keeping his eyes open.
The paramedic continued his explanation. "My maternal family has been using them for centuries," he said, sipping on the lukewarm beverage. He forced himself to swallow most of the liquid, looking back at James. "And this ain't no willow bark tea."
"No, it is not, but it will help you rest and relieve your pain," James said accepting the nearly empty cup back from Johnny, and setting it on the table near his bunk. "Lily is one of our best massage therapists, but until her shunning is over, perhaps one of the others can help you. They've been trained in therapeutic massage by Father Hiram, the great healer."
Johnny felt the bile rising in the back of his throat at the thought of the leader of the family being a healer. He was growing concerned that the man was more of a witch doctor than a healer, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He needed to stay here, at least for a while.
"Nope… I'll be a'right," Johnny said, gingerly laying back on his bunk and draping his arm over his face. "I'll wait for Lily."
"As you wish," James acknowledged with a nod of his head. "As always, the choice is completely yours. Sleep well, Brother John."
A weak snort was the only response he received from Johnny.
Moments later, Johnny's pain had faded away and he drifted into a sound sleep. James, who had been watching the younger man with concern, waited for the others to fall asleep as well. Their newest convert seemed to be growing bolder since his commitment ceremony. James began to worry that Johnny's dedication to the family might not be as strong as he had originally thought. He knew that he had pressured Johnny harder than he had Ian. His own need to move up in the family had been so critical that he began to wonder if he had placed too much pressure on Johnny. Was it too much too soon? If so, Johnny may decide to leave, and if he did, would he take Lily with him? Would that damage James' position in the family? He couldn't let that happen, not yet. Not until he knew more of Father Hiram's secrets.
Pushing those thoughts aside, James waited until most everyone in the dorm was asleep before he rose from his bunk. Only Ian remained awake, and the two exchanged knowing glances before James quietly exited the men's dorm to return to the sanctuary. At midnight, his ascension within the ranks of the family would be complete; he would be allowed into the inner circle of Father Hiram, and he couldn't wait to find out what secrets were lurking there.
E!
Mike graciously offered to pick up Mrs. Lopez and Antonio from the DeSoto residence and take them home, since he would be driving Lexi back, anyway. His new truck had a large bench seat which would easily accommodate the three adults and one small child. Mike had given Marco a knowing wink as they departed from Iris' home. He was deliberately giving the two lovebirds some time alone. Truthfully, Mike was hoping to steal a few moments with Lexi, too.
It was nearly 9:00 pm when Marco and Beverly left Iris' house, heading back to Beverly's apartment.
The drive was a long one; traffic was heavy on the 405 making the trip twice as long as normal. It did give the two of them a chance to talk about the upcoming rescue.
"Bev," Marco began, wanting to know what she was thinking. "Do you really think that Johnny has joined them WITHOUT being brainwashed? I just can't believe he would do something like this without some kind of pressure."
"Oh, I believe there's pressure, but I don't think the pressure is coming from the members of the cult, at least not from all of them."
Marco glanced over at the woman sitting beside him, seeing the soft curves of her face in the dimly lit car. She had grown quiet as the night had progressed. Something was on her mind, and he wanted to know what had silenced her. He reached over, grasping her hand in his own, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of her soft hand.
"Penny for your thoughts?" He questioned, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
Beverly curled her hair behind her ear, staring down in her lap. She struggled to tell him what she thought, unsure if she was right or wrong.
"Well… Brainwashing happens over time. It occurs when a person is completely dependent on another person for everything – even living or dying. All of their needs have to be met by the person doing the brainwashing. Remember a couple of years ago, in Stockholm? Those hostages began to actually DEFEND the men who were robbing the bank and holding them against their will. Nobody understood it, but it made sense to me. See, I've… I've been brainwashed before, Marco. For years, my pimp had total control over me, including my mind. He threatened me, and he carried out those threats, and yet, he kept me safe. It's a weird thing that happens, but… Hell, I don't know how to explain it," she said, sounding defeated.
Marco was taken aback by her cursing, a sure sign that she was frustrated. "It's like that old saying, the monster you know is better than the monster you don't know?"
"Kind of, but not exactly. It creates this really creepy internal paradox. Your head tells you the relationship is detrimental, but your heart tells you that you have to stay in it to survive."
Marco was trying to follow the conversation, but he was struggling to do so. If a relationship was detrimental, then what could make a person remain in it? "I guess that's why battered women stay with their abuser."
"Yes, it is," Beverly continued. "Being in a difficult situation, stressed out, and frightened, makes a person vulnerable. Then slowly someone comes in and offers you comfort, shelter, food, friendship, and you start to give back to them… Something… It may be your time, your money, or… Or your body. You basically invest in this new person or cause, and you become devoted to it. So much so that you may even give your life for the person or group."
"Are you saying that Johnny would lay down his life for this cult he met just a few weeks ago? From what Iris said, he's only been spending time with them for a little more than a week!"
Beverly looked over at Marco's profile, watching as his jaw clenched while he drove.
"No, Marco. No, it just doesn't happen that quickly."
The lineman checked his rearview mirror before switching lanes to take the next exit. When he had come to a stop at the traffic light, he turned to Beverly. "Then why? Why has he gone off and joined this cult? Is he so afraid of this Waite character that he's running away from everything he knows and loves?"
"I don't think he's running AWAY from something as much as he's running TO something… Or someone. I think there's someone in the cult that Johnny cares for very deeply…" She hesitated, squeezing his hand once more. "Someone who means more to him than his own life. Marco, I really think he went there because of Lily."
"You think he'd give up his career and his friends, and join this cult, all for love?" He asked, accelerating when the light turned green. "Why not just talk her into leaving it? If she loves him, then wouldn't she join him and make a life here?"
Beverly rubbed her fingers across her forehead. "I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong, but… Nothing else makes sense to me. Besides, if she's been in the cult for several years, then she's been completely brainwashed."
"So Johnny had no choice but to join, too. It was either the cult WITH Lily, or us WITHOUT her, right?"
"Maybe so. I've heard that love is the most powerful emotion in the world," she said, just as Marco parked his car at her apartment. "Perhaps it's strong enough to motivate him to give up everything in order to be with her."
"Well, I just hope your plan works, because I don't like the alternative." He opened his car door. "I'll walk you to your door," he said, getting out and walking to her side to open her door. He had heard what she said about love… And he heard how she did not include herself when speaking of the emotion. Had she never experienced love so strong that she would give her life for it? Maybe it was time he told her how he felt, even if she didn't feel the same way.
He walked with her up to the front door, his hand resting lightly on her lower back. When Beverly removed her keys from her purse, she inadvertently dropped them on her door mat.
"Oh, darn it... I'm a klutz," she groaned, bending down to retrieve them.
Marco snickered, reaching down to pick up the keys for her when a sharp thud slammed into his forehead. "Ugh!"
"Umph!" She grunted.
Both of them stumbled backwards, Marco pressing his palm to his forehead while Beverly covered her chin with her hand.
"Oh no! Are you okay?" Marco asked, having reached for the keys just as Beverly's face collided with his head.
"Rattled my teeth a little, but I'm a tough gal."
"I'm so sorry," he apologized, slipping the key into the lock then ushering her into her own apartment. "C'mon and have a seat. Let me take a look at it," the fireman said, assisting her toward the sofa.
"I'm fine, really," she said, brushing him off. "I'm not that fragile."
"I know," he said, closing the door, grateful that Beverly had left a lamp on beside her sofa. "Please sit down and let me take a look, okay?"
Beverly smiled as she walked over to her sofa. She wasn't accustomed to the attention she was receiving. "Trust me, Marco. I've been hit a lot harder than that… And that was on a good day," she said, offering him a nervous smile.
Marco gulped at the thought of Beverly being assaulted regularly when she was working the streets. He was still amazed that she had escaped that life and was now leading a normal healthy life, as far as he could tell.
"You never have to worry about that again, sweetheart," he said softly, using his fingertips to tilt her head into the light, wanting to get a better look at her injury. "I'll never ever hurt you like that, not intentionally," he whispered, running his thumb across her soft lips.
Beverly felt her heart slamming around inside her chest. His nearness and gentle touch left her both wanting more, and yet, anxious. This type of intimate contact was still foreign to her, but as their relationship was deepening, she knew it was inevitable. Was she ready for more?
"Is my chin alright?" She whispered, feeling the warmth of his breath brushing across her lips.
"Oh yes… fine… but I… I need to check out your lips," he said, leaning in for a quick kiss. "Mmm."
"Mmm, is right," Beverly said, feeling her pulse quicken. She felt her stomach flutter, knowing that it was time to take a chance. This time she took the lead, reaching up to caress his face as she leaned in for another kiss.
The kiss deepened, mouths parted and tongues began to dance. Marco was exhilarated that she seemed to want this as much as he did. When the kiss finally broke, he continued trailing kisses along her jaw towards her earlobe where he slowed down, breathing into her ear. "Baby, I… I love you."
Beverly recoiled from him, needing to look into his face to confirm what she thought she had heard. "What?"
Marco wet his lips, needing to tell her exactly how he felt, even if she rejected him. "I said… I love you. I don't expect you to say it back, but… I just needed you to know. Um," he hesitated, suddenly feeling more nervous than before. "Do… Do you think that you might be able to love me, one day?"
Beverly's green eyes began to well up with tears. "I think… I already do."
They kissed again, this time with even more vigor. Marco began trailing kisses along her neck, gently pulling her collar away to allow him better access. Beverly leaned her head back, elongating her neck, unable to stop the guttural moan that developed deep in her throat. His ministrations were awakening desires she had never known, and she didn't want him to stop. "Oh, Marco," she whispered, her voice sounding strained as she ran her fingers through his hair. Her respiration rate increased as his kisses continued trailing lower. Feeling bolder, she ran her hand down his chest, untucking his shirt and whisking her fingers along his back. Her own sexual desires were stronger than her fear of intimacy. "Marco, I..." Her words were cut off by his tongue probing her mouth. "Mmm," she groaned, as his left hand squeezed her shoulder.
Marco found himself as breathless as Beverly. "Are you… Okay?" He asked, knowing that if she wanted him to stop then he would, but he desperately wanted more.
"Yesss," she hissed, closing her eyes as he planted light kisses on her face, his hands continuing to touch her in increasingly intimate ways. "But, I… Tell me what you… You want me to… to do for you."
Marco pulled back, cupping her face with both of his hands and staring into her face. "Please look at me, baby." When she complied, he continued. "I want US to make love, when you're ready. I want to bring YOU pleasure, not just you giving it to me. I want US to give ourselves to each other. Do you understand?"
Beverly merely nodded, having never received this kind of attention. "Yes, but I don't… I'm not sure… how to… make love," she whispered, her tears spilling onto his hands. "But I want… to learn… I want to know what it's like to truly make love."
They kissed again, this time with more passion, as Marco used his left hand to slowly unbutton her blouse. Following his lead, she began returning the favor, enjoying the feel of his hairy muscular chest as she opened up his shirt, running her fingers through his chest hair.
Marco felt his body responding rapidly to what was happening. Carefully, and very slowly, he opened her blouse, gently pushing the material off of her shoulders, exposing her bare skin. He ran his fingers up and down her arms as he lightly kissed the exposed skin, feeling her shiver beneath his touch. His fingers curled beneath her chin, lifting her face up to his again. "Still okay?"
"Yes, are you?"
"Never better," he said, kissing her lightly again.
"Should we… take this to… my bedroom?"
Marco gulped. "Only if you're sure," he said, hoping she wasn't going to back out now. He needed to make love to her, needed to find his own release from the pressure building inside him.
"I'm sure, I promise… I got, um, some c-condoms. I have to make sure… sure the ladies at the shelter have protection, if they choose to go back out on the streets again."
Marco exhaled loudly, feeling uncomfortable still sitting on the sofa. "I want you so badly, Bev, but don't do anything you aren't ready for. I can wait. You're worth it."
"I don't want to wait. I… I love you, Marco. I'm sure of it. And I… I want to learn how-"
"Sshhh," he said, pressing his index finger to her lips. "We'll learn together. We'll have to be honest with each other, okay? You tell me what feels good and what doesn't, and I'll do the same. I want to please you, Beverly, and I know you want to please me, too. Communication is the key, so please promise me that you'll be honest with me."
"I will," she agreed, feeling nervous for what she was about to do. Years ago, she had decided that she would likely never have sex again. It had been over five years since she had gotten out of the business, and she hadn't had sexual relations with anyone during that time. Now she was about to have sex with a man she loved, truly loved, a gentle man who was putting her needs before his own. Never had she encountered the feelings she was feeling now. And she knew she wanted more. "Bedroom?"
E!
At the DeSoto residence, Joanne pulled back the covers on the queen size bed she shared with Roy. Slipping her legs beneath the sheets, she turned off the lamp, then rolled onto her side, curling into her husband's body.
"Is he asleep?" Roy asked, shifting his left arm to pull her closer to him.
"Yes, he seems to be doing well. No fever," she said, glad that Christopher was doing well.
Roy resisted the urge to say 'I told you so' to his wife. She was a loving mother, even though she worried a little too much. He kissed her lightly on top of her head. "Mrs. Lopez knows how to take care of little boys… So tell me what you're thinking."
"I think he's going to be fine, just like Dr. Brackett said."
"That's not what I'm talking about," Roy chided. "I'm talking about Johnny and Lily."
Joanne laid her hand softly on Roy's chest, feeling the wiry curls beneath his thin cotton undershirt. "I think it's a risky plan, but… I dislike Crockett's plan even more."
"He'd do it for any one of us," Roy piped up.
Joanne patted him lightly, smiling in the darkness. "That's exactly what I was going to say, Roy. I just don't want anyone to get hurt."
"That's what's bothering me, Jo. I mean, I know the fellas and I can handle Johnny and Lily, but, we don't know how many others may be there. I just don't know," he said, worrying his thinning hair with his hand. "And all those things Beverly said about causing them more mental harm… I don't think I can do it."
"Beverly's done this kind of thing before. Maybe we just have to trust her. Besides, if the FBI and Ron are involved, then it's got to work, right?"
"I don't know, Jo. I want it to work, but-"
Feeling as though her husband was about to jump into a rant worthy of his partner, Joanne decided to give him a verbal jolt. "Then just tell everyone that you don't want to do it," she said, rolling away from him.
"What? Jo, how can you say that? Johnny's part of our family. He's my partner, my best friend. I can't just turn my back on him," he groused in a loud whisper.
Joanne rolled onto her back, propping herself on her elbows. "Then you need to trust Beverly and Crockett. You trust the fellas at work every shift. Don't you trust counselors and cops, too?"
"I guess," he grunted, still concerned about the mission.
"Roy DeSoto! Didn't you learn from the things Iris told us tonight? Discrimination is wrong – and you don't think that counselors and cops are as good as firemen, do you? That's… That's… Professional discrimination," she countered, frustrated by his attitude.
The two lay in bed, back to back, each one trying to hide the snickering that was developing as they thought about her comment. Finally, with his shoulders shaking, Roy snorted into his pillow.
"Are you laughing at me?" Joanne asked, elbowing him lightly.
"Nu-uh," he lied, still trying to hide his giggling.
"You are too; guess it was kind of a stupid sta-statement," she said, losing her attempt to control her own laughter.
"Sounded like some of Johnny's logic," he added, settling beneath the sheets. "But you made a good point, sweetheart. I do need to trust others to do their jobs, and just… Just focus on doing what we all agreed to do tonight."
She reached over swatting his backside, playfully. "That's right. And Beverly and Lexi will do theirs. Crockett and the FBI will do what they're supposed to do. That leaves Rebecca, Iris, Caroline, and me to do the rest."
Roy scooted his body over, touching Joanne's back with his own. "It's got to work, Jo. It's just got to work. I… I can't lose him over this. I just can't. Our last conversation was… It was horrible. I've got to have the chance to talk to him… Heart to heart."
Joanne rolled over, wrapping her arms around his larger frame. "You will, baby. I know you will. And with all of us fighting for him… He's going to come back to us… And Lily will return to Iris, too."
E!
Hank Stanley awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee and bacon. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the aroma wafting through the bedroom, grateful for his wife and family. He lay still, snuggled beneath the blankets as he thought about the meeting the previous night. He scrubbed his stubbly face as he considered the life his junior paramedic had lived. He had had no idea about the horrors and the sorrows Johnny had experienced during his time in Selma. Hank thought about how Johnny had always put his heart and soul into each rescue. Was that a reflection of his past, his inability to save Phillip Campbell, or stop the attacks he witnessed on Bloody Sunday?
He threw the covers off his legs, stretching as he stood up. He pulled on his robe and padded down the stairs towards the kitchen. He stood for a moment, watching his wife finish preparing his breakfast. He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck.
"Morning, sweetheart," he crooned into her ear.
"Good morning to you, too," Rebecca remarked, closing the refrigerator door and setting the orange juice on the counter. She spun around into his arms. "How'd you sleep?"
"Not so good," he groaned, kissing the top of her head before stepping back away from her, allowing her to finish her task.
"Worried about John?"
Hank sighed, pouring two cups of coffee. "Yea… And about this so-called rescue."
Rebecca prepared two plates with eggs and bacon, then poured two glasses of juice, pushing them across the counter. The two of them took seats on the barstools.
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know, Becca. If we don't do this, then we lose John. If we do it, then we may still lose John, but our jobs, too. Do we risk the entire crew to save one?"
"If one of your men was trapped inside a burning building, and your first attempt to rescue failed, would you send in another rescue team to try a different approach?"
Hank grinned, his face a mixture of pride and admiration. "I doubt I'd have the chance to; they'd probably go in without my order," he commented, knowing that they wouldn't actually do it, just that they would be ready when he gave the order. "But this is different. This isn't a call we've been dispatched on."
"Sure it is," she said, biting a piece of bacon. "Maybe LA didn't dispatch you, but you've been dispatched. Now, the question is… Will you respond to the call?"
Hank didn't answer for several long moments. "I need to talk to him, Becca. I need to tell John that I know what it's like to watch a man die, and wonder what you could've done to stop it."
"Hank," she warned, worried for her husband's mental health. "Don't go back there; you know you didn't do anything wrong."
"I know. I've come to terms with Kerrigan's death, but it sounds like John may not have come to terms with what he witnessed."
"Well, you haven't asked me for it, but I'm going to give you my opinion anyway. I think John needs to be encouraged to go back to Selma and testify against William Waite. It's the only way to find resolution."
Hank stared at the woman he loved. "I agree, but he can't do that unless he leaves the cult."
Rebecca raised one eyebrow in his direction. "And he probably won't leave the cult without a little help from his friends."
Hank wrapped his left arm around Rebecca, pulling her into a sideways hug. "You are one smart woman."
"Of course, I am. I married you, didn't I?"
E!
Chet tilted his wrist to check the time before he knocked on Caroline's door. It was half past nine, and a squeal emanating from inside the apartment told him that his arrival wasn't too early. He heard the locking mechanisms disengage, then braced himself for the bundle of energy that usually launched herself into his arms when the door was opened.
"Mizzer Phet!" Corrie called out, running up to his knees and jumping into his outstretched arms.
"Hey there, ladybug. Did you sleep well?" He asked, leaning sideways to give Caroline a peck on the cheek as he walked in carrying his favorite toddler.
"Uh-huh," the child responded, nodding her head in an exaggerated manner.
Chet looked over at Caroline, seeing the hint of dark circles underneath her eyes. "I take it you didn't?"
"Not really," she said in a hushed tone, closing the exterior door. "You don't look like you slept much either."
Without responding to her comment, he began to get Corrie settled in front of the television set again. "I see you're watchin' Captain Kangaroo," the lineman said to Corrie, easing the little girl down onto the blanket on the living room floor. Seeing that she was settled and engrossed in the tale of Mr. Greenjeans, he looked over at his beloved. "I didn't. Couldn't stop thinkin' about this whole Johnny and Lily thing."
Jerking her head towards the kitchen, Caroline turned away from Chet. "Let's get some coffee."
Chet, having become quite perceptive, understood that Caroline didn't want her daughter to overhear their conversation. He followed her into the small kitchen where she began to pour two cups of coffee.
"Are you having second thoughts?" She asked, passing a mug to Chet.
"About the rescue? No… About myself… Yea," he stared down at the floor for a moment, blowing a cooling breath across the steaming liquid.
"What do you mean?"
Chet took a tentative sip. "I'm wonderin' if… Maybe I'm… prejudiced."
"Oh, Chet, come on. You don't judge people based on their skin color," Caroline responded, siding up to him, circling her hand into the crook of his arm.
"But I say things, Caroline," he began, his voice unwavering. "Stupid things that… That I think are just jokes, but other people… Well, if I was on the receiving end, I might not think they were quite so funny."
Caroline took a sip of her coffee, staring into the blue eyes she loved so much. "Is this about the peace pipe, and burying the hatchet… All that stuff that happened on that shift a couple of years ago?"
Chet ran his hand through his curly hair. "Yea… but it's more than that. I mean, why did I refer to that doctor who helped me in Niccoli's as a black doctor?"
"Um, because his has ebony skin?" Caroline responded, her voice rising into a question.
"But it shouldn't have mattered, baby. I should've just referred to him as a doctor. I thought I was trying to set the scene, but… I'm a racist, aren't I?"
"No… We all see the world through our own eyes. Whether those eyes are blue or green, black or white, blind or seeing, wheelchair-bound or walking, we all see our world through the eyes we've been given. Some people like… Well, like Johnny and Lily… They get the chance to see the world through two sets of eyes. Maybe it just helps them see things more clearly. It doesn't mean that you're a racist. It does mean that you have to recognize that you have limitations."
"And a big mouth," he responded, setting down the coffee and pulling her into a hug. "From now on, I'm going to try to see things through the eyes of others… Especially before I make a joke about something."
Caroline set her mug down beside his, resting her head against his chest while her arms wrapped around his torso. "Does this mean that you're going to apologize to Johnny for what happened back then?"
"Yes… I need to ask him to forgive me and… and see if he's willing to be one of my groomsmen… All without kidnapping him," he snickered, kissing her forehead.
E!
Mike had been jogging for half an hour, his mind returning to the weeks he had spent trying to rescue Lexi. Would saving Johnny and Lily be similar? He pondered the difference; the way he had slowly gained Lexi's trust versus the suddenness with which Lily was about to be removed from her surroundings. He began to have an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Would their plan work?
He stood jogging in place as he waited for the traffic light to change, giving him the right of way to cross the busy intersection. How long would it take Johnny to return to his old personality? Would he be willing to go back to Selma to set the record straight? He hoped so. And he vowed that if Johnny wanted him to, then Mike was willing to go back there with him.
The light changed and Mike looked both ways before jogging through the cross-walk. In the distance, he heard the sound of a wailing siren. That sound sent his mind reeling back to the night of Lexi's rescue. She had been very close to death by the time he had barged into her burning apartment and retrieved her limp body. Had he not been on the scene at the time of the fire, then she surely would have died within minutes. Her death would have appeared to be an accident, and no one would have paid for the crime they had committed against her. Antonio wouldn't have his mother; Maria wouldn't have her daughter; Marco wouldn't have his sister, Bri wouldn't have her friend, and Mike wouldn't have… Have what? His girlfriend? Could he call her that?
He jogged up the stairs leading to his apartment, huffing with the added effort. Maybe it wasn't quite time to call her his girlfriend, yet, but because she had been saved, he just might have the opportunity in the not so distant future. Ricardo and Hunley would have to pay for what they had done, and that fact brought at least a tiny bit of consolation to the Lopez family. It was time… Past time, for the Campbell family to have some justice, and past time for Johnny to forgive himself for a crime he did NOT commit.
Mike retrieved his keys, unlocking his door and going inside. As he stood stretching in his living room, cooling down from his run, he vowed to do whatever he could to help Johnny restore his relationship to his family, help Lily reunite with her mother, and help the family of a victim who died a decade earlier find the justice they had long been denied. He would do whatever he could to get Johnny and Lily out of the cult, so they could get on with their lives the way Lexi and Bri had done. Whatever challenges lay ahead of him, Mike Stoker was ready to face and defeat them – for the sake of Johnny and Lily.
E!
In his apartment, Lieutenant Crockett tapped his fingers on his desk, waiting for his phone to ring. He normally spent his Sunday mornings relaxing in his easy chair while he waited for a game to start, or sleeping off a hangover, but not today. His friends from the FBI were to call him later on this morning, to give him an update on the cult, and find out if the rest of the A-shift from 51's would be willing to resort to breaking the law to save Johnny and Lily.
He sighed, closing his eyes as he rubbed his temples. He hadn't shared everything with the men from 51's and Iris. He couldn't. He was sworn to secrecy, even with them. If his federal friends were right, then Hiram Gardner was more than a cult leader, more than a doped-up hippie. If they were right, and they usually were, then Hiram was indirectly responsible for many deaths, possibly even directly responsible for a few others. And he silently prayed that this rescue, no matter how unconventional, would happen in time to save the rest of the cult members, especially John and Lily.
The shrill ringing of the telephone startled him, causing his heart rate to quicken. "Argh, shit," he mumbled to himself, snatching the telephone receiver out of the cradle.
"Crockett," he groused, waiting for the other party to identify themselves.
"Adams here… Did they agree to do it?" The caller questioned, not mincing words. Both men felt the need to act fast, worried that time was running out.
"They want to take a bit of a detour, but," Ron said, sucking in a deep breath. "But, yea… It's on."
"So I need to talk to my, uh, informant then," Adams replied.
Crockett rubbed his forehead. "Well, let me tell you what they want to try first…"