Witness Protection Part 65
Moments of Truth
The jury had been out for nearly a week before I finally got hold of Agent Alexander. He was in his commandeered office at the precinct, and when he answered with his usual cocky tone, I had a moment of indecision.
"Where the hell have you been?" I asked him curtly.
There was a momentary pause. "Yuy? What the fuck do you want?"
Ah--I guessed he was still sore about being punched in the mouth. It was just like a Fed to hold a grudge.
"I'd like to talk to you--alone--in a neutral location. I don't trust the bugs in your office."
"There are no bugs--"
"That's just what Captain Po kept saying to me," I reminded him.
"Why do you need to talk to me? The trial's over. I expect to be recalled to D.C. as soon as the verdict is in."
"Oh? Would that be so you can proceed with your federal case against Khushrenada?"
"There is no case," he said bitterly. "Someone got to Trant."
"He's dead?" I asked in surprise. "Jesus Christ, Alexander--do you believe me now about your crooked agents?"
"I believe you," he sighed. "Five of the bodies picked up at that amusement park were off-duty agents. Sims was supposedly out on sick leave." He gave a short, mirthless laugh. "I'm mainly here to clear out the office and get ready to leave."
"Look--I know we've had our differences," I told him frankly. "But, I think I can help you. I think we can--help each other."
"How so?"
"I will not discuss this over a phone line," I said flatly. "I will pick you up across the street from the station, and we'll take a ride."
There was a moment of wary silence.
"I'm not going to shoot you and dump the body," I let the dry humor in my voice speak for itself.
"I'll be ready in half an hour. Is that good for you?"
"That's fine."
I hung up the phone and grabbed the pages I'd printed as proof of what I had. I also grabbed the disks I'd made specifically for Alexander, leaving my other spare copies tucked in with Duo's box of ashes.
And then I ran back into my bedroom and pulled a small case from under my bed, digging out a small electronic scanner my guardian had used to detect surveillance devices.
No, I wasn't completely out of "toys" just yet. I tucked it in my pocket and headed off to my meeting with Alexander.
I found myself pausing on my way out the door, dropping a hand to the velvet bag containing the box. "I'll finish this, Duo," I said quietly. "I'll see it to the end, for you and for Zechs."
Halfway to the car, I was chiding myself for talking to a fucking pile of ashes. How stupid was that? It wasn't as if Duo could hear me. He was long gone.
So why couldn't I let him rest in peace, like Noventa had said? Why was I hanging on so hard?
I needed to find a way to let go--to get some kind of feeling of closure. I just wasn't sure how to accomplish it. How do you lay half of your soul to rest?
As I drove, I let my mind drift back through the highlights of my time with Duo--his flirting, the stupid sunrise he'd wanted to watch, our seaweed fight on the beach near the farm, and the sunset from the cliffs above Euphoria. That was where he'd said he loved me, and promised me forever.
Dammit, I had to blink back tears as I recalled those moments. The last thing I needed was to be bawling my eyes out when I picked up the much-hated Agent Alexander.
I imagined he'd get quite a kick out of it--and that was enough to make me pull myself together fast.
He was leaning on a lamppost as I pulled up, almost as if he was using it for cover, and as he got in the car, I couldn't help commenting. "You'd have to be a lot thinner if you wanted to use a fuckin' lamp pole for cover."
He gave a nervous laugh and seemed to relax as I drove off. "So--what's the big meeting all about, Yuy? If you want to lay blame for Maxwell's death, courthouse security was--"
"Would you shut the fuck up and just listen for a change?" I snapped impatiently. "I told you, I think we can help each other." I shoved the small pile of papers in his direction. "Look at those."
He picked them up and started shuffling through, his eyes widening as he realized what he was seeing. "Where did you get this?"
"Ah. So you are interested?"
"Interested? I'd kill for more of this!" he said sharply.
"Yeah--um--that's not reassuring," I pointed out.
"I mean--you know what I mean! This looks like an official inter-office memo from Oz itself!"
"It is. And Zechs Merquise copied, encrypted, and kept it."
"W-why?"
I reached into my shirt pocket and passed him a folded copy of the letter from Merquise to Duo.
He read that in silence, as I drove us further away from headquarters and places familiar to him, wanting to get into truly neutral territory. He looked up when I finally pulled the car over in a quiet residential area, near a playground and preschool, and turned off the engine.
"Where the hell are we?"
I shrugged. "Just a neighborhood," I told him. "No place in particular--but I wanted to be far away from bugs, listening devices--you get the idea." I pulled a small, hand-held scanner from my pocket and flipped it on, running it over his clothing in a quick search pattern.
"What the fuck is that?"
"Family heirloom," I replied, straight-faced.
"Who's your family? The CIA?"
"It belonged to my step-father; you'd have to ask him."
He frowned thoughtfully. "I'd like to."
"He's dead." I finished my examination and closed up the device, tucking it away. "You're clean."
"Thanks," he said dryly. "I showered this morning."
"I meant clean of bugs and listening devices."
"I know."
"I don't much like your sense of humor," I told him frankly. "And I don't like you."
"Then why are you showing me this?" he asked, holding up the papers.
"Because your name isn't on them."
He looked again quickly, spotting the page of agent names, his face paling as he read it in greater detail. "I know some of these people," he said in a hushed voice. "Is this all the FBI agents on Khushrenada's payroll?"
"Half," I told him. "I only brought enough to show you what I have."
"Half," he echoed in a whisper. "One of these names--he was part of Trant's protective detail." He looked up at me with a slightly wild look in his eyes. "I need the rest, Yuy. And I need it now!"
"You can have it," I replied promptly. "There are just one or two small conditions."
His eyes narrowed. "The FBI doesn't make payoffs, Yuy--"
"I don't want your fucking money!" I snarled back, reaching towards the ignition.
His hand quickly intercepted mine. "I'm sorry! Just--don't. Don't let me blow the deal with my big mouth, okay? I need the names of all the crooked agents and I need them fast. Do you know how many people are at risk from them?"
"People like Trant?"
"Yes, like Trant. I can't afford to lose any more witnesses like that. It defeats the whole purpose of the relocation program."
"I imagine it does," I agreed.
"So--name your conditions, Yuy. And if it's within my power to meet them, I will."
"I want your word you'll use the information to take Oz apart, piece by piece."
"Are you kidding? What else would I do with it? That's all I've ever wanted since the beginning! Did you think nailing Khushrenada for a little thing like murder was my only goal?"
"No--that was mine. And now--now I want you to finish off his empire."
"Consider it done." He studied my face. "And the other condition?"
"I want five minutes alone with Khushrenada."
"There's no way--!"
"Sure there is. He's in federal lockup--maximum security for the duration of the trial--ever since the attack on Duo. You can get me into the visiting room so I can talk to him."
"Just talk?"
"There's bullet-proof glass, so I'm pretty sure talking is all I can do," I pointed out.
"And what will you say? That we've got him by the balls? Yuy, that's stupid. If he knows what we've got on him, he'll have time to prepare--"
I shook my head patiently. "He can't prepare against this," I pointed out. "No matter how much time he has to stew about it, he won't be able to stop it. There's too much information on the disks that Merquise left behind."
"He could alert the agents--"
"--which is why I'll give you the complete list before you get me in to see him. I'll trust you with that much, knowing you want the rest of it in order to go after Oz itself."
He shook his head dubiously. "I'm not sure I've got enough pull to get you in."
"If you show the list of rogue agents to your internal affairs people, they'll write you a free pass, and you know it!"
He considered that for a moment, and then shrugged. "Probably."
"So--here's the deal. I'll give you the complete list, as a show of good faith. You'll do whatever it is you have to do to arrange my five-minute interview with Khushrenada. When I go to talk with him, I'll bring along a set of the disks--copies. And I'll hand them over as soon as my time is up--along with the location of the originals and the code to access the data on them."
"That--sounds fair," he conceded. "Y'mind telling me how you broke the encryption? That'd take some serious hacking skills."
I gave him a wry smile. "Call it the byproduct of a misspent youth." And a love affair with an angel.
He eyed me warily. "However you did it, thanks. I'm glad it at least made you realize I'm not one of the bad guys."
"Not that I'm entirely convinced--just because you haven't been recruited by Oz yet--" I shrugged.
"Some day I'll tell you why," he said enigmatically. "But I've got my own reasons for wanting the syndicate brought down."
"I just want Khushrenada to see it coming," I said coldly. "I want him to have time to feel the burn before his empire crumbles around his ears."
"You've got a real personal hatred for him," noted Alexander. "Want to share?"
"You first."
"Never mind."
I started up the car, and headed up the street, back towards the station.
"Just so you know," Agent Alexander continued. "If by some chance they acquit Khushrenada on the murder charge, I'll have him back in cuffs before they adjourn the court. He won't be back out on the street."
"That's nice," I said conversationally. "But I'm just as concerned with Oz's downfall. I want you to get to work on that, for Zechs and for Duo."
"Oh, I will," he said grimly. Then he smiled, looking out the window. "Amazing, isn't it? To think, Merquise was just trying to leave Oz--to run off with his pretty little stripper. It was never his intention to use the disks unless he had to, was it?"
"Nope. If his boss had just trusted him--and let him go when the time came, everything would have been fine. Merquise would have left Oz, and gone to live in quiet obscurity somewhere with Duo. Case closed."
"Yeah--that'll teach Khushrenada not to fuck with love, won't it?"
I spared him a quick glance. "You have no idea how true that is."
Khushrenada had fucked with love not once, but twice. If Duo hadn't fallen in love with me, he'd never have written the note for Howard to pass along. And if he hadn't been murdered, the note would never have been delivered. I didn't know if Duo would have forgotten all about the safety deposit box, had he lived. But sure as shit, his death cost Khushrenada big-time.
Not as much as it cost me--but then, I was trying to even the score as much as possible, in the only way I knew how.
I dropped Alexander back at the precinct, handing him the second page of the agent list, which I'd had in my hip pocket all along. "There's my part of the bargain. When you call me with the time and date for my meeting with Khushrenada, I'll bring along everything I promised."
He was already scanning the list in his hand, his face blanching at what he saw. "You've got a fucking deal!" He said sharply. "Now I've gotta go make some calls and start some serious damage control." He practically ran back into the station, already whipping out his cell phone and starting to dial.
I didn't care. Whatever leaks they had in the FBI, I trusted that Alexander would handle them. I just wanted my moment with Khushrenada, and the satisfaction of hearing a guilty verdict in court.
~*~
I dialed up my partner on the way back to my apartment, and filled him in on my meeting with Alexander, including the news that Trant was dead. Needless to say, he wasn't happy that the last eyewitness to Merquise's murder aside from Khushrenada's lunatic assistant had been killed.
In fact, he went on at some length about the incompetence and corruption prevalent in the FBI, and how right Duo had been to fear and mistrust them all.
And then he noted that Catherine was calling on his other line and asked if I minded talking later, and I gratefully said not at all, and was spared the continuation of his rant.
I found myself smiling at the changes in my partner--all of them good. And when I got back home, I decided it was time to start tidying the place up a bit. Maybe once I reclaimed my couch from the dust bunnies, I could actually invite Chang to bring his fiancée over for a real visit.
And this time I'd do the cooking.
I spent much of my weekend on the cleanup work, though I took time off to go to the gym with Wufei for some sparring on Saturday, and for a jog through the park on Sunday.
The prospect of meeting with Khushrenada had me on edge and feeling like I needed to be in top form. But as the jury entered its second week of deliberations, I began to get nervous about the possibility of a mistrial.
If that happened, those disks would provide the only way to reach Khushrenada--by ripping his organization apart.
There was so much riding on the verdict.
Captain Po called me on Tuesday, asking if I'd talked to the department shrink yet. My negative response seemed to bother her, until I assured her that Chang had been a good partner and friend, and helped me get my head on straight.
I told her I was not suicidal (any more), and that I fully intended to return to my job--eventually.
"But--I wonder--" I said on a sudden whim. "How much vacation time have I accrued?"
"I put you on sick leave for this, Yuy," she reminded me.
"I know. I was just thinking of taking an actual vacation," I told her, which was true, though I hadn't considered exactly where to go.
"A change of scenery?" she asked, her tone oddly sympathetic.
Oh, right--she'd asked me the nature of my relationship with Duo, hadn't she? And my curt answer had probably given her a big, fat clue.
"I think that's a good idea," she continued when I didn't reply right away. "I can understand your needing a little time and space--to put things into perspective."
She said something else--about new surroundings giving a person a fresh outlook on life after a traumatic experience--but I wasn't really paying close attention. If I wanted philosophy lessons, I had a partner who was brimming with sage advice.
But I tuned back in when the phrase "department policy" crossed her lips. Without coming right out and saying it, she let me know that my sexual orientation had no bearing on my continued employment, but I suspected she knew I'd keep the same low profile I always had. Why not? Without Duo, there was no point in advertising my orientation. I didn't want anyone else--just him.
She wasn't such a bad boss, really. Aside from our confrontation in her office, when I was still admittedly in shock over hearing that Duo was dead, we'd always gotten along pretty well. At least, when I wasn't in trouble with the Chief.
At any rate, I found myself with a full month of vacation time at my disposal, once my sick leave ran out. It amounted to at least six weeks in all, though she let me know if I came back sooner, and was willing to meet once with the psychologist, I could return to work at any time.
I thanked her for being so supportive, and told her I'd keep it in mind, then gratefully hung up and delved into my kitchen cupboards to clean and re-line them--anything to stay occupied and not dwell on the jury deliberations or my pending meeting with Khushrenada.
I even accepted a lunch invitation from Winner--but in all honesty, that was mostly so I could pick his brains about why the jury was taking so long to reach a verdict. He insisted it wasn't unusual in a case like this, and soothed a great many of my nagging fears.
He also brought Trowa along, and I got my first sight of the dancer since closing arguments. He still looked a bit somber, though he brightened when I asked about the circus and said he thought he might go on the road with them for the latter part of the month--for a change of scenery.
I laughed at the thought that great minds think alike--wondering where to spend my upcoming vacation time. But I didn't share with my two friends, as nothing was certain--nothing except that I'd wait as long as it took to get my time with Khushrenada.
~*~
Two days later, when I'd finished organizing my apartment, and moved on to cleaning out the refrigerator, Alexander called at the crack of dawn to tell me I could meet with Khushrenada at noon.
The FBI agent had moved his office from the police station, to the facility where the crime lord was being housed, citing the need to be nearby when the time came to transfer him to a federal prison.
Wasn't he counting his chickens a bit before they were hatched?
But I didn't begrudge his eagerness. I felt it too.
I called Wufei at slightly past the crack of dawn, to share the joy. "Hey, Chang--guess who I'm going to visit."
I heard his gasp on the other end of the line. "He got you in?"
"Yep. That was the deal, if he wanted the disks. So, yeah. He got me in."
"I'd--like to be there," my partner said with a hint of worry in his voice. "Not that I can go in with you or anything. But, I can at least meet you for lunch afterwards."
"You're fixated on meals, Chang."
"You're not," he countered. "I have a sneaking suspicion you haven't been keeping up on them."
"I eat."
"Daily?"
"Yes," I growled.
"Three times?"
"Uh--at least two," I admitted, knowing if I blithely said "yes," he'd have known it for the pure bullshit it was.
"I'll meet you at the federal building. What time?"
"The meeting's at noon."
"So--I'll be waiting outside for you at about quarter after." There was a slight pause. "Hey, Yuy? I don't suppose they'll let you bring a camera--?"
I chuckled helplessly. "You'd like to see his face, hm?"
"I really would," he said fervently. "But--just--savor the moment, for me too?"
"Oh, I will. I will."
I left the apartment early, impatient to have my moment with Khushrenada. Actually, all five of them.
And when I tapped on Alexander's office door fifteen minutes ahead of time, he looked up without surprise. "Yuy."
"I know. I'm early. But I've waited a long time for this," I said frankly.
He nodded, closing a folder and slipping it into his top drawer, and then standing up and stretching. "You bring the disks?"
"Yes--but they go with me to the meeting. You'll get them after."
"And the location of the originals, right?"
"Right."
"Well then, we may as well head down to 'maximum security.' We have to go through screening to get in."
"Should I leave my gun here?"
"Naw--they'll let you carry it. You're law enforcement. And as you pointed out, Khushrenada will be behind bullet-proof glass. You'll talk via telephones."
"I know how it works."
We headed down the hallway, and were allowed through the outer layer of security--continuing down a corridor towards maximum.
"Sure this is what you want?" Alexander asked as we walked. "Just a moment of payback?" He gave a slight shrug. "You might've bartered this into a Bureau job." He paused for a wry snort. "God knows, we've got plenty of openings, now."
I shook my head. "Thanks, but no thanks."
"Just a thought."
"A bad one. All I want is to be the one to show Khushrenada the axe just before it falls. You can have the fun of the kill."
"Gee, thanks."
We passed through the final security screening with no trouble. I think Alexander had briefed them ahead of time, and cleared most of the red tape.
Then I was shown into the visiting room, and at the stroke of twelve, they brought Khushrenada to the opposite side of the bullet-proof glass, and he sat in the chair, his arrogant smirk still firmly in place.
I was looking forward to wiping it off.
He picked up the phone on his side, and gave a polite nod. "Good day to you, detective."
"Yes, it is," I responded calmly, with a smirk of my own.
"I hear the jury's nearly ready to admit to being deadlocked," he commented, looking smug as hell.
"Oh, I think they'll work it out," I countered, hoping I was right.
"It doesn't matter," came the nonchalant riposte. "My lawyers are already working on an appeal."
"On what grounds?"
"The--disturbance at the courthouse tainted the jury."
"You mean the murder?"
"Yes, that."
I shook my head. "If you don't beat all. Do you honestly think they'll grant you an appeal because your psychotic assistant murdered the eyewitness in front of a courtroom full of people?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
I narrowed my eyes viciously. "I thought you wanted him alive."
"I did." He shrugged casually. "But sometimes life takes an unexpected turn, and you have to adapt to the changing of fortunes."
"Indeed." I fixed him with a piercing gaze. "Tell me why you wanted him alive."
The man chuckled low in his throat, and shook his head. "Aside from the obvious--?"
"Meaning?"
"When I first caught sight of Duo, he was on stage at The Jungle. I was very impressed with his--sensuality and grace. I could see exactly what drew Zechs to him. He was lovely and crude and dangerous. Zechs always did love a challenge."
"That's all well and good," I cut in impatiently. "But it still doesn't answer my question. Why, after so many attempts to silence Duo, did you give your rogue agents instructions to take him alive? What could possibly be worth taking the chance that he'd get to testify against you?"
"You have no idea," crooned the crime lord. He ran a hand back through his hair, rather like a cat grooming itself. "There is a larger picture, detective. One I'm sure that someone with your limited vision cannot possibly imagine."
"Enlighten me."
He shook his head. "I wish I could." He eyed me dispassionately. "Why are you here, detective? Do you expect me to tell you something you can try to use against me? You're wasting your time."
"What did Duo have that you wanted?"
"A tight ass," hissed the crime lord, a vindictive sneer on his lips.
But it was obvious that he only said it to get a rise out of me, and I disappointed him by shaking my head in a patronizing gesture. "No, Khushrenada. You can find that anywhere. You have men and women eager to fall at your feet--an entire empire of fawning servants. You didn't need Duo for that. You needed to know what Merquise gave him that could harm your precious syndicate."
A flicker of surprise in his narrowed eyes was my reward, but he kept his face impassive. "Merquise gave him nothing."
"You're wrong there. Merquise gave him love, adoration, friendship and affection. He also gave him a means to protect himself in the event something--unfortunate--happened to Merquise."
Oh, he knew exactly where this was going now, and his eyes widened fractionally. "What do you mean?"
"Missing some classified data, are you?" I asked, casually inspecting my fingernails.
He gave an unconvincing snort of skepticism. "Are you on a fishing expedition, detective? Because I really have better things to do with my time than trade barbs with you--"
I held up the disks, fanned out like a hand of cards. "What do you think might be on these, Khushrenada?"
His face drained of color, though he tried once more to maintain his bluster. "If there were anything of note on those disks, it would be encrypted."
"Not any more," I smirked, holding up the single page of data I'd printed out just for demonstration purposes.
This time his reaction was genuine--horror and--fear.
"Do you know what you're holding--?" he said in a livid whisper. "That information-- Zechs should never have been able--" His hand was shaking when he drew it across his damp forehead. "They'll kill me."
Oh, I hoped so. I truly did.
He cast about for an escape, and then slid his chair just a bit closer to the glass, and fixed me with an almost pleading gaze. "Name your price."
"My--price?"
"For the disks--the originals and any copies--all of them. Name your price!" His eyes gleamed with renewed assurance. "I have a fortune, detective. I can give you anything. Money, homes, cars, women, men--anything. You have only to name your price."
"Anything I want?"
"Anything!"
I looked him squarely in the eye. "I want Duo back," I said simply.
He gaped at me, losing what little composure he'd mustered.
"I want Duo back alive and well--smiling and laughing--living." I shook my head fractionally. "But you can't give me that, can you?" I glared at him with hatred I could feel all the way to my core. "And it didn't have to be this way. If you'd let him alone--let him live--I'd never have gotten the note that led me to these. By killing him, you sealed your own fate. Consider this Duo's repayment for what you did to Merquise, and what you did to him!"
I pushed my chair back and stood up, the handful of disks clutched in a white-knuckled grip. "We're done here."
"No!" He stood sharply, placing both hands against the glass, dropping the phone to the floor. "You can't mean that!" he screamed, banging a fist on the glass. "Name a real price! Anything!"
The guards were converging on him from the other side, and I just smiled and shook my head, raising the disks in a farewell salute before walking out of the visiting booth without a backward glance.
Agent Alexander was waiting for me, a slightly disbelieving smile on his face. "He just offered you anything, Yuy. Anything. Do you know how much that man owns?"
"All I know is he doesn't own the one thing I want," I replied, not surprised that he'd listened in on my "private" conversation.
I fixed a wary look on the FBI agent. "In case you're thinking of taking him up on the offer I turned down--"
"I know--you've got other copies. You'd be a fool not to," he admitted. "But don't worry. My boss' name was on that black list--and the fucker's been a thorn in my side for years. I want nothing better than to root out every corrupt and greedy agent in the organization."
I nodded. "Glad we're on the same page, for once."
"Why don't you come back to my office? I'll buy you a cup of coffee--"
"No thanks." I handed him the disks. "As I told Chang, while the enemy of my enemy is my friend, it doesn't mean I want to get particularly chummy with him, if you know what I mean."
"Ah, yeah," he admitted.
We were headed more or less the same way, and he kept stride with me as I walked. "What you said about Maxwell back there--that was a helluva mind game you played with him--demanding the only thing you knew he couldn't produce."
I darted him a sidelong glare. "It was no mind game, Alexander. And that's where you and I differ. You're willing to toy with people's lives in order to carry out your convoluted schemes. I'm not."
"Don't you think bringing down an organization like Oz is worth a few sacrifices?"
I shrugged. "Maybe if you were the one making the sacrifice, you'd see it a little differently. Good day, Agent Alexander."
"Listen, Yuy--about Maxwell--"
I held up a hand. "Don't say anything."
"I just--feel bad about the way it went down--"
"Do you want to get hit again?" I asked sharply, feeling my temper start to build.
He started to say more, but just then his office assistant came dashing down the hall, waving a cell phone. "Alexander! We've got a problem."
He closed his eyes momentarily. "Fuck--if there's been another--" Grabbing the phone from the other man, he put it to his ear. "Alexander here." He listened for a moment, but instead of looking upset--he looked pissed. "When? How did--? Damnit, I told you--!"
I wondered what else had gone wrong in his organization, and then reminded myself his problems were his own--not mine.
He glanced over at me, and I gave him a smirk and a fake salute. "Good luck with all that."
Then I turned off as we got to the end of the hallway, and headed for the elevators, putting him from my mind and feeling a mixture of relief and exhaustion. For me, it was truly over. I'd delivered Merquise's information into the right hands. I'd ensured that even if Alexander failed to act on it, there were other copies to be distributed, and other people who knew.
All that remained was to wait for the verdict to be decided. And then--what?
~*~
I hadn't thought that far ahead before; but once the case was truly closed, I had to figure out what to do.
I'd planned to go wherever Duo went--to drop everything just to be with him. And having once relinquished my carefully planned and ordered life, I found it hard to consider going back.
"Penny for your thoughts," Wufei said, falling into step with me as I left the building and headed down the sidewalk.
I glanced up with a faint smile. "Just trying to decide what to do with the rest of my life."
He gave a low chuckle. "Ah--that's more like a ten-cent question then."
"I'm taking some time off," I told him, slowing my pace as I saw a hotdog vendor near the entrance to a park. "Buy you lunch?"
He followed my gaze to the man with the pushcart. "That is not food, Yuy. Lunch implies eating food."
I just laughed at him. "You wanted to make sure I ate. Well, today I feel like eating that."
"I thought once we got back to civilization, we wouldn't have to go slumming again."
"You thought wrong." I elbowed him chidingly. "Humor me, Chang. Share some junk food with me while I figure out my future."
He sighed, and relented, and we walked over and procured our hotdogs. I liberally covered mine with chili, onions and cheese, just to see the faint grimace of disgust on my partner's face.
God, he was easy.
We headed down the flagstone path, with sodas and hotdogs in hand.
"So--you'll take some time off. What will you do?"
What, indeed?
"Road trip," I said around a mouthful of pungent food.
"You're channeling Duo again," he pointed out, nibbling delicately at his own meal.
"I sure as hell hope so," I grinned back. "I think I'll head up the coast--do a little reminiscing--some soul-searching."
"Is that--wise?"
"As wise as you proposing to Catherine a month after you met her," I shot back.
"Oh, touché!" he smirked. He raised his Styrofoam cup in salute. "So long as I can count on you to be back in town for the wedding, feel free to go do all the searching you like."
"You haven't set a date," I reminded him.
"True," he conceded. "I guess that means you'll have to keep in touch--call me on regular occasions."
"I guess it does," I agreed.
We finished our meal, such as it was, in a matter of minutes, ending up on a little foot bridge over a brook that ended in a pond and fountain. And there we paused to lean on the railing and watch the goldfish cluster below us, while we finished our sodas.
"I'm a bit concerned," Wufei spoke up, his pensive gaze on the circling fish. "It's going on two weeks for jury deliberations."
"You're not alone in that concern," I assured him. "I had lunch with Quatre and Trowa the other day. Winner insists it's too early to get worked up. He's seen it take longer, with a positive outcome."
"I just--" My partner scowled, clutching his cup in a tightening grip. "You know the rumor mill at the station. There's always some idiot jabbering away by the water cooler; speculating that someone in the jury's been bought--that there might be a couple of 'hold-outs' trying to force a mistrial. The usual shit." He shrugged a shoulder in a gesture that didn't hide his unease. "Just worried that someone paid one of them off--like that Schbeiker woman."
"Yes, but Winner said the judge has already spoken to the jurors, assuring them that their financial situations could come under scrutiny if there's evidence of jury tampering. She evened threatened to bring in some of the 'alternates' if anyone's found to have been bribed."
"She really wants a verdict badly, hm?" he said with a dawning smile.
"Not nearly as bad as we do." I clapped him reassuringly on the back. "Chang, I just rubbed Treize Khushrenada's face in the fact that we have him by the balls. Don't rain on my parade!"
He chuckled with honest humor, and gave a quick nod. "Consider it done. No more rain." Then he glanced up at the sunny sky. "As lovely as today is, I suppose I've taken as long a lunch break as I can get away with."
We headed back down the path, Wufei returning to work, while I decided to pick up some groceries and see about getting my car tuned up for my trip.
As it happened, my mechanic was having a slow afternoon and offered to take me right in, so I left the car in his capable hands and ran my errands on foot.
Okay, actually, I took the bus, since it was too far to carry my heaping grocery bags by the time I finished buying protein bars and some dried trail mix for the trip. I also stocked up on batteries for my flashlight, and some bottled water. None of that shit was lightweight, so I didn't feel at all wimpy for using mass transportation instead of shoe leather.
Of course, by five p.m. when I got back to the garage, Mike had finished working on my car, having completed an oil change, air filter replacement, radiator flush, new wiper blades, spark plugs and wires, and tire rotation.
In a fit of generosity, I also had him install a brand new battery, recalling the old one's reluctance to work after the car sat idle for a couple of months.
I did already mention I'd been a boy scout, didn't I?
Then I packed up my car with my travel provisions, and headed for a camping supply store to snag a couple of backpacks and maybe a new pair of hiking boots.
I suppose I could have gone back to my apartment then, but I thought I'd treat myself to dinner at a small, familiar diner that served better meals than you'd have thought by looking at the exterior of the building.
And was it my fault the theatre across the street was showing the sequel to the action flick Trowa had brought to the lake house? I couldn't resist.
In retrospect, I wished I hadn't taken the extra two and a half hours.
I left most of my purchases in my car, locked securely in the parking garage, and headed up the elevator, stepping off into the hallway with a single bag of groceries still in my arms.
But long before I got to my door, I could see that there was something amiss--a torn strip of wood around the jamb--clear signs that the lock had been jimmied.
So I drew my gun, carefully looking up and down the hallway to make sure none of my neighbors were out this late to get in the line of fire, and I eased up to my apartment, carefully nudging the door open with a foot, before slipping inside to see if my intruder was still there.
TBC...
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