Chapter Three

The White Bird Returns

The next morning, Michael walked out through the hospital's automatic front doors, carrying his holdall. Kitt drove out of the carpark across the street and pulled up to the curb. Reaching the car, Michael left the bag on the pavement, walked around the hood to the driver's door, and got in behind the wheel. He left the door open as he prepared to do the hardest thing in his life.

He sighed as he leaned back in the driver's seat. He'd been awake all night, trying to find a way to say 'goodbye' to his best friend that wouldn't tear the heart out of them both. He'd rather be shot all over again. That pain had been easier to bear.

But he still had nothing. How did a man say goodbye to a buddy that had seen him through thick and thin? And hails of bullets and bad men — a buddy who had been there for him through all the lows and the highs.

He shook his head. "Kitt... There's something I have to tell you. It ain't gonna be easy, Buddy, but it's gotta be said. So here goes. I –"

Kitt interrupted him. "I had you on my monitor and I still don't understand... This is your life. You're programmed the same way I am."

Michael smiled sadly. "Sorry, mate. But think of it this way. My onboard computer banks have been overtaxed."

He laid one hand on the dashboard. "Kitt, there comes a time in your life when you can't do it anymore. When all your energies are used up. You can go out for an oil change and a grease. Get Bonnie to tinker under your hood to make you feel better and tune you up. It ain't that way with me. It'd take more than a socket wrench and a screwdriver."

"But, Michael," Kitt worried. "What will happen to me? I was created for you."

"Ah, Kitt. You don't have to worry about that. You know Devon will see you right. But now, I have to say 'goodbye', my friend."

Before his emotional state got too much for him, he removed the commlink and placed it into the glove compartment. "Goodbye, pal…"

"Michael…" Kitt replied quickly. "I may not be flesh and blood, but I am a friend. And, as such, I wish you every happiness. But I still don't understand."

Michael stared at the little screen. "In a way, neither do I…"

He got out of the car and gently closed the door. As he bent down to pick up his leather holdall a sharp stab of pain reminded him of the bullets that had nearly killed him. He grimaced as he massaged his side and snatched up the bag.

He walked away down the sidewalk. As he passed a parked limo, Reginald jumped out from the back seat.

"Yo, Mike!" He stood beside it, holding its rear door open. "Come on, Michael, you're not getting away that easy. You've got a 'goodbye' party to go to and we're already late for it."

Michael backed up. "No, thanks, RC. I've already said my goodbyes. I'm going the other way."

"Hey, man, I haven't known you that long. But everything I've seen about you and heard about you tells me that you're not the kind of guy who takes the easy way out. Now, Bonnie and Devon, they've been to hell and back with you, man. They want to say goodbye properly."

"I'm gone already." Michael shook his head as he turned away.

But RC caught his arm. "Look! Hey, if I have to throw a flying tackle, you're not leaving them cold. You can't do that, man. It ain't right."

"Is that so?" Michael glared a warning at him as he pulled away.

His face settled hard and denying. He turned away again.

But RC was not going to be denied. The young man grabbed his arm again and held on this time. "You're still hurting, man. Both in body and soul. I may even be able to take you..."

Michael held for a beat and then smiled wryly. "Maybe. Maybe not…" He turned and handed over his bag.

RC let out a grateful breath and smiled back as he pushed the limo door wider. "Thanks, Michael. I think you just saved my hide from being nailed to the gates of FLAG headquarters. If I'd called to tell them I was going back without you…" He shook his head ruefully.

※※※※※

"What are we doing all the way out here?" Michael demanded to know as the limo finally turned into a small seaside carpark. "I thought we were going back to FLAG HQ."

RC got out and opened the back door again. "Devon didn't think you'd be too comfortable there. This is neutral ground and kinda quaint."

He grinned as Michael got out to stand beside him. "Anyway, I heard the chef over at FLAG's gotten sick. Maybe he's been eating his own cooking."

"I'm starting to smell a very large rat," Michael commented hardly, as the two men approached the small seaside restaurant along the crazy paved concrete path lined with crushed seashells.

"And the great sea air…" He filled his lungs and seemed to relax as they entered the place through the double glass doors.

Devon and Bonnie were seated in the bar area drinking cocktails. Michael frowned as he and RC approached them. They seemed a little nervous and it made him wary. 'What now?'

Michael walked up to Devon. "Look, just so you know. As lovely an idea as this is, it isn't going to change anything. Not one single thing…"

Bonnie nodded. "Yeah, we know that, Michael."

"We're not trying to change anything. We've accepted your decision," Devon replied smoothly. "Now, let's get you a drink and enjoy ourselves, shall we?"

He motioned to the restaurant's maître d' to lead the way and indicated to Michael that he should follow the man. They moved through the dining room to an intimate, corner booth set for two. A silver ice bucket held a chilled bottle of champagne.

Michael reacted to the setting. "This can't be our table. It's set for two and there's four of us…"

He turned back to where Devon and the others should have been standing. But they were gone.

Instead, Stevie was there alone with a softly welcoming smile. "I'm allergic to whipped cream, or I would have come out of a cake." Tears filled her eyes.

"Stevie?" Michael stood there, feeling foolish and dumbfounded.

Stevie shook her head. "Well, are you just going to stand there with your mouth hanging open, or are you going to offer a lady a warm hug and a welcome hello with your well-scarred body?" She looked him over with desire clear in her eyes.

Michael didn't move. "I don't understand..." He spread his hands.

"You're not supposed to. All you have to do is tell me how wonderful I look. It's been a long time, Michael. Too long…"

"Yeah, it has…" He stared at her, still obviously conflicted.

"Devon said you need me. But I want you to say it. I need to hear it from your lips. Do you need me?"

Michael set his teeth. Tears filled his eyes. "I don't know if I can say it right now…"

"That's okay…" Stevie breathed through her tears. "I can wait around for a while…"

She shook her head. "I'm a very patient lady…"

She glanced at the small stage on the other side of the restaurant. "Barry, the owner of this place, has allowed me to take some time off. Devon made it worth his while to agree."

She lifted her shoulders. "So, you see, if you don't want me around, then you could say that I'm kind of at a loose end…" Her lips trembled and tears ran down her cheeks. She took a step backwards.

"I…" Michael stiffened against the deepening desire to hold her.

He didn't need and he didn't want. He couldn't... His hands clenched into fists at his thighs.

"It's okay, truly…" Stevie's tremulous smile was his final undoing. "I understand. I guess we really did lose each other, somewhere back there…"

"No, we didn't," Michael protested. "We just got kinda turned around…"

He lost all his bravado and snatched her up into his arms. He held her tightly and then kissed her long and slowly.

Behind them, the maître d' cleared his throat discreetly. "Ah, when you and the lady are ready to order, Sir…" He laid two menus on their table. "Mr Miles said your meals and wine are to be charged to him."

"I'll bet he did." Michael kept a hand on Stevie's as he assisted her to her seat.

She sat down and put a hand out to him as he took his seat. "Devon told me you've always known where I was. Every club I've worked, I always expected a call…" She looked sad. "But you never did call."

Michael sighed as he handed her a menu. "It would have just ended in another goodbye. Stevie, why are you here?"

Stevie studied him closely. "Over the last few years, the only times we've spent together have been when I was in some sort of crisis. You always came along like you were on some great knight's quest and saved me."

She smiled tremulously at him. "Well, now, it's my turn to save you. And I think I know how…"

※※※※※

Sometime later, they exited the restaurant hand in hand. They had enjoyed a simple but delicious meal, along with a bottle of wine, and the glow of their encounter was still evident.

Michael stopped and looked around the carpark. There was no sign of Devon, Bonnie or RC and the limo was gone. He figured they'd run out on him and left them alone.

"It's all right…" he said, drawing Stevie closer to his side. He smiled down at her. "It seems we've been stranded by some well-meaning people. You don't happen to live somewhere around here, do you?"

Stevie leaned into him. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do…"

Suddenly, the sounds of a romantic ballad began to play across the carpark. Michael and Stevie both did a double take as they turned to look behind them.

Kitt had rolled up unobtrusively. He was now parked in front of the restaurant and the soft music was emanating from his speakers. 'As time goes by…'

Michael shook his head. "Kitt, what are you doing here?"

"I'm on 'R and R'," the car replied smugly. "Bonnie said my computer banks are overtaxed. It'll take more than a socket wrench and a screwdriver to fix what's wrong with me."

Michael raised a denying hand. "Don't put me through this, all right," he begged. "Saying 'good-bye' wasn't that easy."

"Michael, the Foundation has no need for me until they find a replacement for you. For once, Michael – just once – please be practical. You're out of work, a home, and you need free transportation!"

"You've got a point there. What do you think?" Michael shrugged as he turned to Stevie for the answer.

She smiled and nodded. "Ah ha, yeah…"

"Come on, then…" They walked to the car and Michael assisted his love into the passenger seat.

He rounded the hood and got in. "You know what? For the first time, we got something new."

"What's that?" Stevie asked.

"Time…" Michael replied as he turned the key in the ignition. "And no deadlines anymore."

"I think I could get used to that…" Stevie smiled at him as they peeled away from the curb. "You asked about my place. I'm renting a beach house for the summer. I'd love to show it to you. Take the next right up ahead and drive down to the shore…"

None of them noticed the grey sedan. Stacker gripped the steering wheel as he watched them pass him. He was parked on the other side of the street, well within viewing distance of the seaside restaurant's entrance.

He'd seen the Trans Am pull up and had frowned that it seemed to have no driver. "Some kind of remote-control gizmo, I guess…" He shrugged. "Just like Durant said that FLAG outfit had. Maybe it'll be mine after all this is over."

He settled back in the shadows of the car as he waited to see the direction Knight took when the Trans Am drove away down the street. He waited for a beat and then turned his car to follow.

※※※※※

Stevie's rented house was different from many of its more bucolic neighbours. Tucked away at the end of a long, sandy street that ran above the beach, and below a tall cliff, it was a white-washed Mexican style with a red tiled roof. It looked both homely and functional. It also had the large front deck and chairs, just like Michael had imagined in his dream of his future.

"I could get used to this…" He sighed as he cut Kitt's engine, and the only sounds were the endless ebb and flow of the ocean and the cries of the gulls swooping overhead.

"Good, because we might be staying here for quite some time," Kitt commented. "Finding a pilot to replace you will not be easy and I know Devon has not even begun to look. He said he's too busy right now. So, Bonnie went into your suite back at the house and packed some bags for you. Everything is in the trunk. She figured you might need them."

"It seems there's a bit of a conspiracy going on among all of you," Michael replied as he pushed his door open and got out. "I hope she packed my shaving gear and toothbrush."

He walked around to the passenger side and helped Stevie to get out. "But I can see a few advantages to being here, rather than back at HQ…" He leaned down to kiss her, long and slow.

"Quite a few, I'd say…" Stevie breathed against his mouth when he pulled back.

"Come on…" She linked her fingers through his. "Let's go inside. You can get your things later. We have a lot of making up to do so we're gonna be making out."

"I like the sound of that. See ya later, Kitt…" Michael allowed himself to be tugged toward the house.

"I guess I won't wait up," the car quipped as the couple disappeared into the house and shut the door behind them.

※※※※※

Devon sat behind his desk, frowning down at his paperwork. It was endless and constant. At times, he felt he was drowning in it all.

He rubbed a hand over his gritty eyes. It was late and he was dog-tired. But he found he couldn't sleep. He shifted his gaze to the bottom drawer of his desk. He bent down to pull it open and took out the bottle of whiskey and one glass. He stared for a moment at the other glass he left behind before he shut the drawer.

He uncorked the bottle and poured himself a generous measure. "Here's to you, Wilton. You always said it would come to this one day. That Michael would want to leave us one day when he was finally tired of all this."

He glanced around the opulent room. "And there would be nothing I could do about it…"

He raised the glass toward the ornate plaster moulded ceiling. "Sláinte mhaith, mo chara. You always knew when not to stick around."

He downed the amber liquid in one long swallow. He gasped as the potent fumes curled around his tired senses, and then he poured himself another.

He leaned further back in his chair and raised his feet to rest on the edge of the desk, crossing his legs at the ankle. He lifted his glass again in salute to the ghosts who often inhabited the shadows that clustered in the corners of his office beyond the glowing reach of his desk lamp.

There were so many. And there could have so easily been one more to add to his already heavy burden of guilt and remorse…

But that one sweet memory always stood out to tug once more at his sorrowing heart. He didn't think he'd ever felt quite so alone as he did right then.

"Lucy…" he murmured in a deeply regretful tone as he watched the love of his life vanish once more into the train's billowing cloud of smoke and steam. His heart skipped a beat.

"Cuisle mo chroí…"he whispered. "Please, don't leave me here, alone in the dark…"

※※※※※

For two glorious days, the two young lovers played together and did their best to ignore the world around them. Michael and Stevie did all the usual beachy things. They fed the constantly swirling gulls with bread and treats. They picnicked on the sand, ran, swam and played games until it was almost dark.

After the sun went down, they returned to the house, to eat their supper and then retired to the master bedroom that had become their haven. Locking the door to the outside world gave them both a feeling of security and endless enjoyment of their new life. Neither wanted to be the first to ask when and how all this heaven would end.

During those two days, Kitt tried to make himself over into his version of a beach buggy. He accelerated up and down the beach. He would sail through the air to land safely on the other side of a large sand dune.

But with Stevie in his pilot's seat and Michael providing ongoing instructions, the Trans Am began to worry about his own future as a functioning vehicle.

"Stevie, I really don't think this is what The Foundation perceived when they designed me!" Kitt put in as they ran in wide circles down the beach at high speed.

"Kitt…" Stevie replied warningly. "Remember – you're on 'R and R!' So, stop complaining and floor it! You know you're secretly enjoying it!"

"Yes, Stevie…" the car replied obediently and floored it.

On the morning of their third day together, the young couple laughed as Kitt took another sand dune with ease. He landed and did a fancy skid to shower the sand in their direction. He could admit, he was enjoying himself.

Michael and Stevie walked further along the beach in the warm morning. They were framed by the vastness of the shoreline with the ocean behind them and the sky above. Joy painted beauty on both their faces. Gulls wheeled overhead, watching for any chance of a meal. Music drifted on the air from behind them.

Stevie smiled. "Michael, not that I'm complaining, but don't you think that music is a touch too much?"

Michael grinned. "Hey, whatever works for you. You want mariachis? You got it!"

The words were barely out of his mouth when they heard a Mariachi band playing a Mexican hat dance. Kitt was positioned on the shoreline, trailing ten discreet paces behind them. The music was blaring out of his sound system.

Stevie raised her hands to cover her ears. "I surrender! Enough!"

The music of the 'Mexican Hat Dance' stopped and Kitt commented through commlink that was back where it belonged. On Michael's left wrist. "This was Michael's choice, Stevie. I prefer the classics. A little Vivaldi, or maybe a touch of Mozart…"

"Yes. Play something soft, Kitt. Something soft and easy listening..."

The music began again, soft and haunting this time. A ballad about finding true love again after being too long apart. Stevie took Michael's hand, and they started walking along the beach.

"This is all just a little too perfect to be happening," Stevie confided.

"Yes, but it's the way I'll always want for us," Michael denied softly. "You and me walking alone, together."

"But there's a thing called reality, Michael. We can't do this forever. We need to be sensible."

"I know. But not yet, Stevie. Please, not just yet..." They stopped walking to hold each other.

High above them on the bluff, Stacker was standing next to his sedan, with a pair of binoculars to his eyes. His attention was focused on Michael and Stevie as they walked below. He let the binoculars drop from his eyes, and then he ran back down the other side of the hill to his car and got inside.

He picked up the car phone and dialled a number. He waited and watched the gulls diving and screeching above. "I hate the beach," he grumbled as he frowned at the sky.

"Yes…" Durant snatched up the telephone receiver. "Talk to me!"

He was standing in the computer room of his mansion. He frowned at his henchman's words.

"Yeah, he's got that black car on remote control again. He's with this girl... It looks like they've known each other a long time," Stacker observed. "They've got a house together."

"Stacker. If you can see him then you can get a shot at him," Durant complained harshly. "Why are you bothering me with the boring details of their domesticity?"

"Well, it's long-range and if I miss, that car of his will be on me," Stacker prevaricated. "I haven't figured out yet how he's controlling it. But it looks sophisticated."

Durant sighed. "Well, then get close enough to be sure you don't miss him. Do I have to do all your thinking for you? I'll triple the reward for results if you kill him before the sun goes down."

Stacker ground his teeth and then said, "We're talking an empty beach here. Nothing gets that close to them but that car and some seagulls. They'd see me coming a mile away. Remember, Knight's seen my face too. They'll lock me up right next to Martoni and throw away the key."

"Always I must be the one to solve these small details." Durant tightened his grip on the telephone. "Then we'll just have to handle it another way. Something they won't expect." He dropped the receiver back into its cradle.

He frowned at the newly built model of the Cessna plane on the table beside him as a new plan formed inside his devious mind. He reached out and spun the plane's toy propeller and smiled.

※※※※※

The sun was slowly sinking toward the far horizon. The sky had become multi-coloured as Michael walked out onto the balcony. He leaned on the railing with both hands and sighed.

Kitt was parked on the sand below the terrace. He had appointed himself as sole watchman and no one had argued with him.

Michael stared at the beauty of the sunset. Then he turned to watch Stevie working in the kitchen. The door was wide open, and she was arranging flowers in a basket.

"I love you, Stevie…" he said simply.

Not to be outdone in the moment, romantic music began to play through Kitt's speakers. 'As time goes by…' drifted on the warm air once more.

Michael smiled even as he glanced down at the car. "Kitt, will you stop listening…"

The music continued as Kitt ignored his command. He was enjoying himself too much by setting just the right romantic scene to stop.

Stevie walked slowly from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. "What did you say?"

Michael straightened up and took her gently by the shoulders. He stared down at her, then he framed her upturned face between his palms. "I said… Stevie, I want to marry you... Now... Right away..." He leaned down to kiss her.

Stevie drew back and gave him a serious look. "Oh, Michael… I don't know. We've been down this road before. One of us needs to be practical."

Michael drew back and folded his arms defensively. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he demanded, as he ignored the rest of her statement.

"It's just that you've chosen something that you find higher and more important than happiness or unhappiness. And… that's the gap between us. At times, it seems wider and deeper than the Grand Canyon."

Michael shook his head. He looked stricken. "Stevie, that the gap between us is the Foundation. I'm not going back there. It's all behind us. I've handed in my resignation, effective immediately."

He glanced at the house. "I could buy this, you know. We could buy this place, and we could live here all year round. I'd get a job, and you could sing. It would be our home, Stevie. Ours."

Stevie inhaled and shook her head. "Are you sure? When you think I'm not looking at you, you have this lost look on your face. Like you're still not certain of anything or everything. Like some large part of you is missing."

"Positive," Michael asserted with certainty, still keeping his arms tightly folded.

Stevie stared deeply into his eyes, trying to find the truth. She felt she did and started to nod her agreement.

She began to laugh softly. "Then, yes... I say yes, please… I will marry you."

Michael hugged her and spun her around. He glanced down to Kitt. "Now, Kitt…"

The music started again. The same romantic tune. Michael kissed Stevie and she kissed him back.

The waves crashed in and retreated as the gulls swooped and cried overhead. The whole world seemed to be embracing the lovers.

Stevie finally got her breath back after being so thoroughly kissed and she laughed. "You two are incorrigible. Talk about a double act. You should take it on the road. I guess that lovely song is now our song."

"Any way you wanna play it, Stevie…" Michael parodied before he picked her up in his arms and kissed her again.

He turned and carried her back into the house. The soft strains of the music followed them inside as Kitt settled in to keep watch once more.

※※※※※

Early the next morning, seated beside Durant's swimming pool, a new, sleepy-eyed beauty was eating breakfast at the table. She looked up and shaded her eyes when she heard the sound of a model airplane in flight overhead.

The Cox Cessna 182 Skylane was being taken through a series of manoeuvres in the sky. Then it banked and descended before taking a wide circle over the pool area.

Standing next to Durant and Stacker at the head of the steps, Klus worked the controls of a two-channel remote control radio. "It manoeuvres perfectly with the weights. I don't see any problems with putting your plan into action."

The plane flew lower and lower before it came in for a smooth landing. It taxied across the back lawn of Durant's estate. The three men walked down to it. Klus knelt down and removed the wing structure from the plane and took out a set of lead weights.

Stacker was quick to hand him a packet containing plastic explosives. "That's enough plastique to flatten a three-story building. You sure about this? There's bound to be some collateral damage."

Durant shrugged his unconcern. "I like to be sure. Gambling is the only vice I've never acquired. Too much must be left to chance. I like to be certain that Lady Luck is always on my side. How do you think I stayed ahead of the law for all these years."

He turned back toward the house as his two henchmen worked on the plane. "Make it ready to fly. I want this foolish affair finally done today. My contacts in East Germany are becoming restless for us to begin the transfer. They are men who do not like to be kept waiting. And I have a life I am very keen to return to before it's too late for me to enjoy it."

He flicked his hand imperiously to gain the young woman's attention. She smiled as she got up and left her food to follow him into the house.

※※※※※