An Untold Truth

by Amelia L. Rodgers ©2001 all rights reserved

Not meant to infringe upon the copyright of Carlton International, an non-profit story for fan enjoyment only. Not meant to infringe upon the copyright of Monty Python's Holy Grail. Not intended to offend Mr. Dunne or infringe on his copyright, or copyright of Vanity Fair.
Not to be used without author's permission.
E mail author
adult scenes, language, and situations. Graphic scenes.
Dedicated to the United States and her allies and freedom.

Ed Straker stood in Control, watching the radar screen blip that signified a UFO had gotten past Moonbase's security measures and was headed for Earth. Or more specifically, Aberystwyth, Wales. It was taking Captain Peter Carlin a particularily long time to get into position and blow the hell out of the UFO. When he did, not one soul at HQ didn't breathe a sigh of relief. There was a terrible irony that Ed was aware of. For years he had protected Earth from the threat of aliens. And yet, for weeks now, both the United Kingdom and his own United States had watched the events of 11 September unfold, bringing with it more dead, more fear, and almost daily warnings from the White House. Another attack may come, they warned. No specifics. Be alert. By all means, go travel, go about your business, pretend that all this is not happening. War is upon us, but don't let it interfere with your lives. Ed wondered what the world's reaction would be to the spinners that contained aliens hell bent on taking the world. How much of this stress could human beings take? What if the end of the world did not come from aliens which they knew alarmingly little about, but a small band of madmen intent on killing anyone who didn't interpret the Muslim religion as they did? What if it came from a man named Bin Laden who could have easily passed for a Christ-like figure? His message? Kill Americans for Allah. He'd been lucky up to now, protecting innocent civilians from alien attack. However in protecting these same civilians from terrorists, he was impotent.

Ed sighed. He leaned forward and spoke into the microphone to praise Captain Carlin, and then he ordered that the on duty operatives take a break, allowing the next shift to come in and take over for them. Then he went to the sanctum of his office. He'd dropped into his seat and taken a sip of disappointingly cold coffee when Dr. Claire Spencer appeared.

"Got a minute, Commander?" she asked.

"What's on your mind?"

"I just wanted to tell you the Fielding estate is finally settled. You didn't make much of a profit from the sale, I'm afraid. After paying all Adam Fielding's bills there was just enough to give a tiny windfall to Beryl and Susan, and you inherited one horse named Wrong Way. I hate to tell you this, but from Wrong Way's record of losses, glue might be a suitable fate for this filly."

"How encouraging. I own an racehorse that isn't worth the oats she eats," chuckled Ed. "Anything else?"

"Yes, I went over what you inherited from Laurence Malone. I know the publicity didn't sit well with you, and you don't like being among the list of wealthiest men in the world-"

"I never want to hear the name Dominick Dunne again. He's been terrorising poor Miss Ealand, begging for an appointment to see me. And he actually wrote about the whole thing in that damn society magazine he writes for. Vanity Fair, indeed." Ed made an unpleasant sound. "Reporters are climbing over themselves, trying to see me. Somehow they found out that I was staying at Claridge's and they were swarming outside my suite door. I almost agreed to Nate's offer to open fire on them."

"Commander, Ed, depending on how you handle the fortune you were handed, you might be able to finance Shado on your own."

"Damn reporters. At least I can move into that house Lawrence left me, as soon as it's made ready for me. I understand it's to have its own water purification system, and have all the latest security gadgets. I went and took a look at it and it actually-what?"

"Edward, if you manage your money right, you could double it, maybe even triple it. You could practically finance Shado from that tech firm he left you alone. Lawrence Malone was a genius when it came to money making, as well as being formidable in a Boston courtroom."

"You're serious? Is there actually a possibility I could tell Henderson to go take a flying leap?"

"If you were very, very careful, yes. You could start with developing a much faster Interceptor, and SkyDiver. You could finance the whole process of looking for and training suitable new personnel for Shado. You could get to the point where whatever the aliens throw at you, you could throw something equally advanced in technology at them. I'd have to look at what we end up with after paying taxes to Inland Revenue and Internal Revenue, but it looks to me that you could invest in much more than the studio. You could form a company. Maybe Straker Ltd. Or Straker Foundation. I'd like to help you do it. If you still want me to."

"You quite impressively untied all those threads I was left from inheriting Fielding's estate. Of course I trust you, Claire. What are you doing standing here? Go make it all a reality."

"You're forgetting something, Edward." Claire smiled.

"The surgery, yeah, yeah, I've been dodging Dr. Carmella Diaz, and trust me, that isn't easy to do. Yeah, yeah. Where's Alec these days? Still dodging spears thrown at him by the new mother? Last I heard, Yetunde wasn't quite clear about when the baby had been conceived, and they were arguing about it. Have him come and relieve me and I'll turn myself in like the surgical fugitive I am."

"You might want to wait until the party. At least I want to. I don't want to go through life without seeing you dress up for Halloween Ball." she winked. Ed groaned.

"I'm only agreeing to the idiocy because it's good for morale, and it'll raise money for the charities the studio is affiliated with. So who are you dressing up as, Claire?"

"It's a toss up between Joan of Arc and Snow White," teased Claire. "What about you?"

"You're more the Joan of Arc type, I'd say. Me? Caligula, I think," Ed said solemnly.

"What a pleasant choice," she laughed.

"Well, look at it this way. I can name Wrong Way one of my senators," he grinned. "Say, Claire, has Ryan come back from San Francisco yet?"

"I got a phone call from Ryan and Eric saying they'd gotten married and intended to go to the upcoming festivities for Halloween in Castro Street. So it looks like I'll have to go apartment hunting soon, since three's a crowd. I can't say I relish moving again."

"Would you consider taking one of the bedrooms in the house Lawrence left me? It's huge, there's enough room so that we could be living in the same place and I wouldn't run into you in the bathroom for at least a year. Nathaniel's already set up in one bedroom. Besides, if your official new position is to be my financial advisor, I want you nearby."

"Edward, I'd really feel privileged, that would be wonderful."

"Good." Ed wondered why the idea of her being close by felt so, well, right. Maybe it had something to do with the way she had blossomed over the short period of time she'd been with Shado. Or the attractive way she had upswept her ebony hair, and the more alluring fashions she had been wearing lately, all due to Yetunde and Frances grooming her. She was spending more and more time working for him, and less time in Mayland Hospital. She'd also practically been adopted by Frances and Angel, who had felt upset by Beryl's decision to live in the States, and taking Susan with her. Certainly it wasn't wise to move to San Francisco at a time when anthrax was turning up in the United States? Frances had implored, but Beryl had been determined, and had moved out of the Brisby home.

Things were being shaken up all around, Ed knew. Maurice and Ryoko had gone to Japan, taking Yolanda with them. Ed sadly mused that he hadn't seen Devon for months, even though he still got e-mails assuring him Devon was doing just fine after moving to Holland. Lily Marsh had sent a letter saying she was deliriously in love with some Godforsaken member of Tony Blair's staff and they were planning to be married. Wonders never ceased. Either that, or as he suspected, Lily was tired of living on the salary of an arts and crafts instructor. God help England, Ed thought, not without amusement. He looked up at Claire, smiled. "Well, go find, or maybe the more appropriate adjective is rescue Alec from Yetunde, and have him fill in for me. Then call me on the mobile, and we'll drive down to the house and you can pick a bedroom. I've had my fill of living at Claridge's and ducking reporters."

"Did Nathaniel really get sued for breaking one of their cameras?" she grinned. Ed lifted his eyebrows in an innocent manner.

"That reporter is lucky Nate didn't break the Nikon over the reporter's head. Go on now, Claire, I have a few reports to go over before I can find something suitable for dinner."

"Yes, Commander." Claire saluted and Ed gave her a look. As soon as she departed, Ed flipped through some reports and signed or added a message to them, depending on the need. When he was finished, he paused, and his mouth pulled into a thin disapproving line. Ed stood, opened one of the cupboards near his light display, and took out the November copy of Vanity Fair. He leaned against his desk and leafed through the pages, past the samples of scent (God, why would any sane person want to wear a scent called Chaos) past the fall fashions (that leather coat was more suitable as a saddle for a horse then adorning a woman in his opinion ) to the article he was looking for. There it was. The sixth reading of it incensed him as much as the previous five times he had read it. Dominick Dunne's diary. The sensational title 'An Untold Truth' Ed recalled as soon as he and Nate had gotten back to England, Ed had stopped to send the green leather bound notebook back to Dunne. Now he wished he'd burned it. Sipping the cold coffee again, he began to read.

An Untold Truth

I really had thought that my recent trip to the moneyed area of Boston called Martha's Vineyard, to pick up a painting I was sure that my old friend lawyer Lawrence Malone had left me would be uneventful. How wrong I was! For I ran into one of the most mysterious executives in England, a man who had recently been accused of pretending to be poisoned just so his studio could get publicized. A man who had not dignified that obviously erroneous accusation by making a statement. A man who was as sharp as a whip, and who had been accompanied by a less than jolly Jamaican giant named Nate Zouri. A man named Edward Straker, the Straker in Harlington-Straker Film Studios. A name that was surrounded in secrecy worthy of a Howard Hughes. Naturally I, and any reporter worth his salt would try and get an interview with him. I didn't succeed, but I was more than amused to hear this man practically confess he had paid the hostess a subtle insult by taking the time to give her a necklace of small, inferior diamonds made by the jewelers at Garrard and Asprey's. One of my many contacts had told me Edward Straker was a man who did not tolerate anything less than sheer perfection in his life and his dealings, so if he brought a flawed necklace it was a signal that the so-called grieving widow Martine Malone was just as flawed in his opinion. I also could plainly see this man walked with a limp with the aid of a walking stick, and his pallour reflected a recent illness which of course I knew had been caused by having the water he drank be poisoned by a madwoman. A handsome man who was in his early fifties but amazingly appeared as if he was in his late forties without the slightest trace of corrective plastic surgery. Sky blue clear eyes, carefully groomed silver hair, a suit of impeccable cut, a voice as distinctive as a crack of thunder on a stormy day. A man accompanied by the tallest, strongest Caribbean born bodyguard I had ever seen. His grip alone made me fear a mere handshake had fractured the delicate bones in my old hand. However, sitting next to Straker, it soon dawned on me that the same kind of power was latent in the body carefully camouflaged in Ralph Lauren. The bodyguard was for show. Even with a pronounced limp and pale skin, I got the distinct feeling Edward Straker wasn't a man to cross physically or in any other manner. And yet more shocks were to come. In an instant, this same Edward Straker became one of the richest men in both the United States and England. I had known Lawrence Malone for many years before he perished in that ill-fated flight that destroyed the Twin Tower in New York City. He had never revealed to me that he was obviously a close friend of this same mysterious Edward Straker, this Edward Straker who had laid aside an illustrious career as a much decorated colonel in the United States Air Force to become the executive of a less than lustrious film studio. But to this mysterious Edward Straker he had left nothing less than the bulk of his estate, worth billions. Why? Why did Lawrence Malone so value Edward Straker that he left him such a fortune? Why? I spoke to Lawrence's senior partner, Jay Noland, who had performed as the executor, and he merely mysteriously told me that the package he had solemnly given Straker as part of the estate held "An Untold Truth" and he would tell me nothing else. It was a mystery that Martine Malone hinted at, but I despise Martine enough that I wouldn't approach her for clues. Straker had whispered something to her, causing a miracle of her sealed lips, and her obvious hatred and rage at him. Yet I almost felt sorry for her. Lawrence had denied her his wealth, and instead given it to a man named Edward Straker because of "An Untold Truth" that none of us may ever discover.

Edward Straker does not answer my calls, but believe me, when I smell a story, I never stop. So, dear readers, I'm determined and will stay determined to find out that "Untold Truth" that has transformed Edward Straker from being the executive of a minor film studio to a man of incredible wealth. What he does with it is still to be seen, but if his past practice of being generous to charities, particularly charities benefiting children continues, then he will be a philanthropist to contend with.

Ed closed the magazine and threw it into the vapouriser, watching it vanish with great satisfaction. Then he closed his eyes and his thoughts went back to the day he'd opened the package Dunne had alluded to, the package scented with lavender. A package that he'd opened in the privacy of his suite at Claridge's. A package that had contained letters. The scent of them bringing up memories of the house he had grown to be a man in.

Love letters.

Letters from his mother, Rosemary Iris Straker to Lawrence Malone. Letters to Lawrence Malone. Her lover. Letters detailing the affair they had carried on for as long as they'd known each other. Letters detailing an affair they'd had behind not only his back, but the back of his father. His father, a once courageous and decorated war hero who had deteriorated away in the sanatorium they had placed him into when he demonstrated more and more symptoms of the shell shock that plagued him. Major Edward Straker, his father, who had a leg blasted away in war. Major Edward Straker, who had an English whore for a wife, and an American son that feared him.

Dear God, Mother. Dear God.

Ed stood, opened his eyes, and angrily brushed away tears. So Dunne wanted to know what the untold truth was? The untold truth that Rosemary Iris had cheated on a man she had claimed to love?

There was more to it, Ed knew, more that had been revealed in the letters, more that pertained directly to him. Right now he hadn't wanted to remember that. For he couldn't get out of his head images that were created from paragraphs in the letters. He had torn the letters to tiny pieces and flushed them down the suite toilet. He put the whole thing out of his mind and went out the door.

But he couldn't help thinking that every penny Lawrence Malone had left him was a slap in the face of his father from a pair of lovers, a final means of dealing with their guilt. Money to pay as atonement for their sins. For his father had taken his belt one sunny day in that Boston sanatorium, wrapped one end into a loop around his neck and attached another to the overhead light , stepped off a chair and hung himself.

Seconds after the memory of seeing his father's corpse slightly swaying as it hung from the ceiling and the sound of his mother screaming came into his head, the unbearable pain that exploded in him blotted everything away.

It was Nathaniel Zouri who was exposed to the sight of the Commander of Shado, quiet and still on the floor of the lift obviously unconscious.

Ed Straker awoke to the sight of Alec Freeman looking down at him, and to the sensation of Claire Spencer holding on to his wrist. "What happened?"

"You passed out from the pain in your hip, and we didn't have much choice but to perform emergency surgery. You'll be all right, Edward. You just won't be dancing at any costume balls anytime soon."

"I was never Fred Astaire anyway. Why are you taking my pulse when thousands of pounds worth of medical equipment is monitoring my every breath behind me?" Ed growled, listening to the beep of the machines. He took an experimental move, and aside from his right hip and right leg being immobile, the only pain was a slight sting in his right hand where the IV's were connected. He was in his usual private hospital suite.

"Good old fashioned medicine. My father believed in it, and so do I."

"That, and she probably enjoys touching you." Alec grinned. "Although why, I can't tell, because every time you get operated on, you get crabbier."

"Every time I wake up from one of these surgeries to the sight of your face, you seem to get uglier and uglier, Alec." Ed smiled.

"You're right. You were never Fred Astaire. I wasn't exactly Ginger Rogers either, chewing my nails, waiting for you to open those baby blues."

"That's only because you weren't in surgery that long. The recovery time will be shorter, I took advantage of some new procedures and some new equipment, and gave you an entirely new hip replacement, plus I bypassed the area where the new bone growth was taking place, and you won't have any new pain. Carmella Diaz performed most of the actual surgery, but I scrubbed up with her and assisted her. I've been playing with numbers so long, I wasn't sure if I even remembered which way to put on a surgical mask." Claire smiled. "How do you feel, Edward? Your heart is sound."

"How do I feel? Frustrated. I'm on my back when I should be with my people. The only responsibility I have now is choosing what to eat on the hospital menu, when I should be concerned about what the Al Qaeda is doing to my fellow human beings."

"That's not your fight, Edward." Claire squeezed his free hand. Ed let his fingers close over hers for a moment, reassured by her touch. He sighed, nodded, let her hand go.

"Yes, yes. Alec, where's that new mother of yours?"

"The hormone laden fiend previously known as Yetunde? Probably dreaming up some new and horrible way to torture me."

Ed chuckled.

"I thought things had finally improved, judging from the way you came to work late on the morning after she received my gift. You had that familiar winning expression on your face."

"I thought so, too. The real horror is, these mood swings of hers are going to continue. At least I only have to put up with it for four more months. I wish she'd just give in and become Mrs. Freeman."

"I will marry you at a time and date of my choosing and not one second earlier, Mr. Freeman," a familiar voice said from behind Alec.

"Oh oh. Busted," Alec said, and turned to kiss Yetunde Folsade. Ed grinned at her as she returned the kiss.

"How are you doing, Edward? The way Nathaniel reacted to finding you in that lift at HQ one would have believed you were at death's door." Yetunde said. Ed noticed that there was finally a tell-tale bulge under her white lab coat where her usually flat waist had been. She looked about to pop right there and then in his office. Evidently she was one of those women who began to show fairly late into the pregnancy. Also as evident was the glow of pregnancy. He always had considered her a strikingly beautiful woman, and now she seemed otherworldly. Or maybe that wasn't a proper expression to use, considering the alien threat that hung over their heads.

"I'm well, and Yetunde, may I be the first to say that this baby thing becomes you. You look like as lovely as an African goddess." Ed told her. Yetunde started to smile.

"The operation seems to have had an effect on his gift for hyperbole, it increased it," Alec cracked. Yetunde slapped Alec on the back of the head hard enough that it sprang forward, and he looked accusingly at her, rubbing the injured area. Claire laughed. Ed shook his head, winced.

"Four months, huh? Looks more like one month to me. I don't think you're going to live that long anyway," Ed announced.

"You could start to appreciate me the way some people do, Alec Freeman. When is the las-" Yetunde stopped, winced, grasped her belly. Alec turned pale, grabbed her arm. "She is only kicking again. Here, feel." She took his hand and pressed it against the bulge in her flesh. "Wait a moment. There!"

"Well, I'll be. I'm going to be a father!" Alec said. Ed and Claire rolled their eyes, and exchanged grins.

"I hope Ayomide Freeman isn't as ugly as you. She better take after her mother or she doesn't have a prayer," Ed announced.

"She is not Ayomide Freeman yet, Edward. Ah ah ah. Men! Rest, Edward, in a day or two I will supervise your physical therapy. Come, my helpless boor, take me to dinner," Yetunde said, kissing Alec. He beamed at her and led her off.

"First she hits him then she kisses him, Spencer. All part of the phenomenon of the illogic of women." Ed said, looking at Claire playfully.

"It's the way we superior women bring your sex down on your knees," Claire answered, her eyes twinkling.

"Oh? Should I expect to be kissed and then-"

Claire bent and kissed Ed gently on the lips.

"Never stop being you, Edward. I'm so glad you're all right."

Ed lowered his eyes sternly.

"I thought I told you some time ago that showing that kind of affection for your commanding officer was taboo," he said in a less than irritated tone.

"Are we back to me having my last meal again?"

"I hope not. I'm getting used to having you around," Ed said softly.

Claire looked at him with a tender smile. She took his free hand.

"I might be fixing to hit you, after all I'm one of those illogical women."

"Oh? I don't think so, Spencer." Ed let his fingers rest in hers lightly.

"Oh? I wouldn't be so sure, Straker."

They looked at one another for a moment, searching each other's eyes. Claire was startled out of her reverie when her mobile phone rang.

"Whoever coined 'saved by the bell' was an idiot," she groaned, and Ed laughed. She pulled it from the folds of her skirt. "Dr. Spencer. Yes. Yes-Oh hello, Ryan! How are you-what? Oh, Eric. Yes, okay. Yes. What? No, I'm with Edward right now, at Mayland. No, no, he just needed surgery right away. He's doing fine, what, you're scaring-what? What? NO!"

Claire Spencer screamed so shrilly that it was even heard in the lift where Yetunde and Alec were waiting for the doors to close. They darted out and headed back to Ed's private hospital room. When they got there, Ed had this horrible stoic look on his face, Claire's silver mobile phone in his hand, and he was speaking to someone. Claire was bent over, seated next to the bed, sobbing hard. Finally Ed said something into the phone they couldn't hear, cut the connection and pushed the antenna down.

"What in the name of Olorun happened?" Yetunde asked, alarmed.

"I'm afraid that Ryan McKay was stabbed and died from his injuries, he'd been stabbed by a bunch of skinheads simply for being homosexual. That was Eric on the phone from San Francisco. Ryan had gone out to buy a wedding gift with some friends he and Eric had met, and when they didn't return right away, Eric was worried and went to the police. They confirmed McKay had been found dead, but two of his friends survived and had given a description of the assailants. Ryan had managed to shoot and kill one of them, but two got away, but not for long. They're under arrest. Alec, tell Nathaniel I want to see him immediately. I want him to fly out-"

"Ed, I'll go out there with Nate."

"Alec, I need you at Shado."

"Ellis can handle Shado. I want this, Ed."

Ed sighed. He nodded. Alec turned to Yetunde questioningly. She smiled sadly at him.

"I understand. You need to go. Just be safe, beloved."

"I promise."

"I'm going with you. Eric needs me," Claire said, wiping her eyes. Ed shook his head and cut short her protest.

"Claire, you have responsibilities here. Nate and Alec are enough. They'll handle this and bring Eric and Ryan's body home safely. Eric told me he didn't want you to get too upset, but he wasn't sure if this was a Shado matter so he called you before me. I told him when any of my people, especially-" Ed hesitated, his voice breaking with sorrow for the young man, "Especially when one of my finest operatives is murdered senselessly, then it is absolutely a Shado matter. Get on it, Alec, and keep me informed."

Alec nodded and went out, followed by Yetunde.

"I'm sorry Claire. I liked him. Everyone liked him."

"It isn't right! Those bastards! Oh God, Edward, he had finally found something to believe in! Ryan was-oh God," she sobbed. Ed motioned for her to come to his bed, and she leaned against him, crying, and he held her with his good hand, and whispered comforting things to her that he knew were not adequate.

Take care of my Clairey. Cause you want to, and I can't anymore, so take care of her, Ed.

I will of course, Ed swore to himself. Then it struck him that Ryan McKay was not in the room.

Ryan McKay was dead.

He jumped, and looked frantically around him, so much so, that Claire stared at him.

"Edward, what is it?"

"I heard-Claire, Ryan used to call you Clairey, he told me that, on the day I lectured him for carelessly risking his life-" Ed sighed.

"Yes, that's right, that was the nickname his lover gave me, and Ryan picked up on it afterwards. I think it made him feel as if Tim was always around. Why?"

"I thought I heard his voice just now. And I'm not sure I believe in ghosts. Never mind."

"Ryan believed, Edward. He believed that the righteous never truly die. Oh God, Edward, he called me up and said he was so excited, that he and Eric had exchanged rings in a service. Oh God, Edward, has the whole world gone insane? Why would they want to harm him?"

"Ignorance," Ed said, sighing. "Claire, he was Shado. That means he will be buried with full military honours. I hope that somehow gives you some peace of mind. And Claire, it's not often that after I give someone a lecture, that they give me one right back. Ryan did, you know." Ed allowed himself a slight smile. Claire couldn't help it, she chuckled and wept at the same time.

"I don't think Ryan really understood the military thing, and I don't think he feared you like some of your personnel do. What on earth was he lecturing you about? My silly Ryan," she said, and wept hard again.

"I can't remember. It doesn't matter," Ed lied, stroking her, remembering.

That's what I heard Dr. Folsade say that night, the night you almost died. She told Claire you look after everyone, but yourself. She was worried that because your wife hurt you, that you'd never open yourself up to be loved again.

I remember, Ed thought. I hear you, Ryan. I heard you that night.

Maybe its time I put Margaret Fielding Straker to rest. Maybe its time I remember what else you said, Ryan. Let me see, what was it now? Oh yes.

And you just said to me that, well, something like you weren't dumb and you shouldn't throw away love just because you have different expectations of what love and sex should be like.

"Different expectations," Ed said.

"What?" Claire asked, leaning against him.

"My mother was carrying on an affair with the family lawyer, Claire. That was what I learned. Lawrence Malone left several years worth of love letters, he left them to me in his will. Love letters between he and my mother. She wrote him that she had-" Ed's voice broke. Claire looked at him and grasped his hand. He pressed his lips firmly together. "That she had not truly loved my father. That it was a marriage of convenience. That Malone had been the first real love in her life, a love with real passion. And that when my father had hung himself, she longed to openly marry Malone, but that she hadn't, for my sake. I never had suspected a thing. Her grief seemed real enough, Claire. But it wasn't. I idolized my father, Claire. When I read those letters, I hated the both of them, for betraying my father. I think now that their love was real. I know that my apparent death in Vietnam broke my mother's heart, because she-"

"Edward, are you sure you want to be telling me all this? Are you sure you want to confide in me like this?"

He looked defiantly at her, wounded.

"I'll stop."

"No, no, you misunderstand me. It isn't that I don't want to hear it. I just thought that maybe you'd tell all these things to Alec. I never want you to regret anything you say to me. I want us to trust each other. I lov-." And she bit her own lip. He gave her a look of quiet amusement.

"You love me. Right? Besides, Alec is starting his own life. I've been in the way of that happening for years. He always was stifled by having to save my unworthy arse from the fire. I have a gift for getting into trouble. I think its time he had his own life, I think his being a father and husband is way overdue, due entirely to the perils of a guy named Straker. Anyway, my mother didn't love my father, oh, she respected him and she tried, and maybe he even attempted to love her back in his own way. But something was always missing in her world, and she missed England badly, but all this took place when women would never think of cuffing a guy over the head Yetunde style because he made her stay in Boston." Ed smiled. Claire chuckled. "But all that changed when she got pregnant and gave birth. Gave birth to a little boy whom she named Edward Straker, after his father. And she found, much to her surprise that she adored being a mother. I know, because she wrote to Lawrence, telling him just what I'm telling you. Everything was in those letters that Lawrence cherished after she died. And she loved that little boy, spoiled the hell out of that little boy, and eventually her husband went off to war." Ed looked out the window. "But you see, Claire, her husband never returned home. The man that returned home was a monster. For years, Claire, I've lied to myself. I've pretended that my father was a hero. But just because you're a decorated monster, doesn't mean you're any less of a monster. He came back minus a leg, but he came back minus a heart, too. The war changed him. If there's any darkness in me, and believe me, I don't pretend that there isn't, then it comes from him. And the war had punished him, and he made it his business to punish her. When she devoted what he thought was too much time to me, he'd beat her. I never knew about it, Claire. I was too young."

"My God, Edward." Claire said softly. Ed didn't look at her, he stared out the window.

"I was too young." he repeated. "And asking for help, well, even if it had been proper to talk about what went on in the confines of a Boston household back then, my mother was far too proud to even admit she needed help anyway. I think in her bloody minded, Anglican way, she saw the beatings as nothing less than her due from God for allowing herself to marry a man she didn't love. Until he took me out one day. It was winter, Claire. He took me out, and I was, oh, I don't know, seven, eight, maybe. I was delighted, because it meant I was going by myself on an adventure with Daddy. So we went out in the Boston snow. The cold Boston snow."

Something in Ed's quiet tone of voice chilled her. Then, suddenly she knew. Ryan had always freaked at her ability to sometimes read his mind. The thought of Ryan, lost to her forever, saddened her deeply, but right now, Edward needed her. Because she knew. She knew.

"Dear God, Edward. He tried to kill you."

Ed's head jerked around and he stared at her.

"How in the blazes could you know that?" he said with alarm.

"I've always sometimes had a kind of weak ESP, Edward. It comes and goes. It's true, isn't it? Your father wanted to take away the thing she most loved, the way the war had taken his limb and his career. Your father wanted to punish her by doing the most terrible thing in the world. Robbing a mother of her precious child. My God, Ed, how did you survive?"

"That's damn unnerving, but I'm no stranger to ESP. You're right, of course. How did I survive? A neighbor who was a photographer saw what happened. He always had been wary of my father. My father took me to the shoreline, and by sheer insane effort he crawled with me up the rocks, to a ledge overlooking the ocean. And he raised his cane to hit me. I understood years later that he had intended to say that my death was an accident, which would explain the bruises, that he had intended to push my small corpse over the rocks, into the ocean. I remember the cane, Claire. I probably thought he was playing a game, because I know I wasn't afraid. Our neighbor, who was renting a house next door to us, in Boston for business, was taking photos with his new camera, and he saw what my father was about to do. And he yelled at him. He screamed at him. It saved my life. My father flew into a panic, and he claimed he didn't know what the man was talking about, but the police came, and my neighbor had it in photos. Photos that as soon as my mother saw, she made plans to get my father committed into a sanitarium instead of being put in prison. She begged the neighbor to destroy the photos and negatives but he wouldn't. She hired Lawrence Malone to defend my father as being not guilty by reason of insanity due to shell shock, that is how they met. And sometime later they fell in love, and eventually my father hung himself. Who am I to deny my mother and Lawrence their love, Claire? Different expectations, that's what McKay said. Love doesn't stop being love because you think it should be one way and it goes another. I can't hate them for what they did. The strangest thing, Claire, do you know what the strangest thing is?" Ed suddenly sobbed. "I still love him." Ed frowned at his lack of control and wiped away his tears roughly. Something about her presence made it feel safer to simply just be human, not the stern Commander. Just a man, a man who had lost his parents.

"You still love him, Edward? But that's not so strange. That's the kind of man you are. You aren't your father. You aren't a monster, and you never will be."

"Sometimes it feels like I have known you forever, Spencer." Ed smiled slightly.

"Well, that's good, because if Alec has to go and start a life with Yetunde and little Ayomide, you'll need someone to look after you."

"Who says I need-"

The door opened.

"Hey, Commander, I just heard about Ryan, boy, what a bunch of assholes, glad I'm going, because that dude was my pal."

"Nathaniel, why aren't you getting ready to leave for San Francisco?" Ed said with amusement, because Nate wasn't using the Jamaican accent he sometimes feigned.

"I am. I'm just waiting on Alec, he and Yetunde went to pick up his suitcase. Besides, remember that map that weird professor gave you?"

"Hmmm? Oh, yes, yes. What about it?"

Nathaniel Zouri pulled it out of an orange shirt so bright that a pilot could land a plane by its glow alone. He walked toward them with it.

"New shirt, Nathaniel?" Claire smiled. She whispered to Edward to wipe his face. She'd asked Nate a question so that Nathaniel would be distracted while Ed wiped his tears away, and she leaned across Ed to allow him to do it. Ed knew it, and gave her a grateful smile.

"It looks like it would register on the Richter scale. Sure that thing isn't radioactive?" Ed asked dubiously as he accepted the map from Nathaniel. Claire grinned at him. She knew instinctively that the show of humor was just to cover up his feelings.

"Nothing personal, Commander, Sir, but you don't know class when you see it. Look. I did some digging. This map, well its of a land mass right here in England. Somerset is what they told me."

"Somerset, yes, yes, I have heard of it. And you are telling me this now because . . . ?" Ed glanced at the map.

"Well cause its of an abbey in Somerset. A church place. A freaky mystic place. Glaston-something is what they told me at his university."

"Glastonbury Abbey," Ed said. "But I'm still not sure why you thought I needed to know in the middle of the crisis with Ryan's death."

"Why do you call it freaky?" Claire asked.

"Cause that professor guy went there. Cause that's supposed to be where the Holy Grail is. Some cup or something. He was looking for it. He figured it would cure his cancer or something is what they think."

Ed smiled in spite of himself.

"The chalice which Christ was supposed to have used at the Last Supper. It hardly should be written off as some cup or something."

"Well, I ain't Christian. Anyway, there was a rumor about this professor guy."

"And?" Ed said, getting frustrated. Claire grinned at Ed. In spite of Ryan's death, she felt a certain peace being near Edward. And no matter what Edward might believe, she herself was sure that Ryan would speak to him, even after death. She just wasn't clear why he wouldn't speak to her. She turned her attention back to what Ed was saying.

"Well, this professor was supposed to have found it, and then buried it again. No one knows why, cause if he found a magic cup it wouldn't make no sense to me-"

"Nathaniel, for God's sake, slow down. Are you saying that the map shows where the Holy Grail is?" Ed said in disbelief. Claire gasped.

"Yeah. And well, he gave it to you. And you know what else? From the time you shoved it at me, I didn't feel right. Like a loa had cursed me or something. Like it was meant for you, and only you. Freaky, like I said. And they wanted to copy it but I told them no, and I left. I didn't give them a good look at it." Nate grinned. "They were pissed at me."

"Let me see if I have this right. I meet a professor who finds the Holy Grail. For some reason he again hides it. He then makes a map of where he hid it, which he gives to a complete stranger as a gift. Why in the world would Professor Samuel Enos entrust me with such a thing? And why am I acting as if this genuinely is a map showing the location of the Holy Grail? I must be losing my mind. Concerning myself with myths and legends when one of my operatives was killed in cold blood. Here. You take this, Claire. Hold it for me until I decide what to do with it."

"ME?"

"Oh for heavens' sake, Spencer, it isn't going to bite you." Ed shoved it into her hand. Just then, Alec came in.

"Come on, Nathaniel, we have about an half hour before the plane leaves. I'm not stopping for a single red light. Move! Don't worry, Ed, you rest and start your physical therapy. I'll be back before you know it. I'm assigning you one of our best security men to take Nathaniel's place as your bodyguard and I called Gay, and she's on her way back here from Moonbase to take over. Colonel Lake is filling in for her. Claire, see that my problem child Ed there doesn't get into trouble. And Claire, I'm deeply sorry for your loss. I know you were closer to that fellow than any of us were."

"Thank you, Alec."

"What's that you have there?"

"Oh this? Just the map showing the burial place of the Holy Grail after Professor Enos found it and buried it again, just as Joseph of Arimathea buried it ages and ages ago." Claire said casually. Alec looked at her and shrugged, and left with Nathaniel. Ed glanced at her with a mocking grin.

"You actually believe it."

"You're one to make fun of me. Just moments ago you confessed to hearing the words of a dead man," she reminded him.

"I was hallucinating. I'd just been in surgery, you know."

"Uh huh," she replied.

"Give me that thing."

"Yes, Commander. I'll go see about getting you some dinner, too."

"If nothing else, this is a piece of history. Professor Enos was a well respected man at one time, known about as well as, well as that fellow who always told people to follow their bliss. Joseph Campbell. " Ed said, accepting the map.

"In his will, Tim told Ryan and I to do the same thing. He admired Joseph Campbell." Claire smiled. "Rest, Edward, I'll go get you and I some dinner."

Ed watched her walk out.

When she returned with Peter Evers, who actually to her surprise, tasted everything meant for the commander as a precaution, Ed had the map in his hand, and he was fast asleep.

Peter Evers was a tall, lightly muscled Dutchman with rugged features and short hairbrush cropped brown hair. Claire found she liked him instantly. His previous assignment had been HQ, he was saddened to hear of Ryan's death and he whispered to her now.

"I must admit, Ma'am, that I've never seen him this close up."

She chuckled softly.

"Not as threatening looking when he's fast asleep, is he?"

"I wouldn't go as far as saying that, Ma'am."

"Peter, can I call you Peter?"

"I think Lieutenant Evers is better, since I'm filling in for Nate. No offense, Ma'am."

"Lieutenant, did you really think the kitchen was out to poison the Commander?"

"Ma'am, its my job to make sure they don't. No offense, Ma'am."

"Its unfortunate that Lieutenant Evers wasn't here on previous occasions," Ed Straker said, without opening his eyes. Claire chuckled and set the trays down in front of Ed, rolling the trolley over.

"I knew you weren't asleep."

"Sir." Peter Evers stood at perfect attention as Ed opened his eyes and smiled at Claire.

"And how did you know that? At ease, Lieutenant. Well, Lieutenant Evers, is the food decent or am I relegated to lime jello again?"

"Looked like lamb cutlets, peas and mashed potatoes, coffee and apple pie with ice cream, sir. Tasted pretty good."

"Well you don't look close to death, so I guess its safe enough. Are you going to be doing this everytime I eat?"

"Orders ever since your close call with the poisoning, Sir."

"Have you had dinner, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Sir, thank you for asking, sir. Sir, if you don't mind, I'll leave the two of you and be just outside if you need me."

"Very well. Oh, and Lieutenant Evers?"

"Sir?"

"No matter what Dr. Spencer here may attempt to insinuate, believe me, even when I am asleep, I still am threatening. Understood?" There was a trace of a smile on Ed's face, but you had to carefully search for it.

Claire laughed. Evers nodded.

"Understood, sir. Enjoy your meal."

Claire watched the door close.

"You'll never fool me, Commander Straker. You may look like a lion to most of them, but at heart, you're just a pussycat."

"Cut this for me, would you, Claire? Its hard to manage with one hand," Ed said. She came over to his side and picked up his knife. Without warning, his hand that had the IV in it jetted across and grasped hers so hard she gasped and dropped the knife.

"Edward!" she said.

"Even a pussycat has claws," he said evenly. She grinned widely at him.

"You just had to make a point, didn't you? All right, you win. You're a lion."

"Good. Just remember that in future." Ed said then winced.

"Let me see your hand, you stubborn idiot," she told him knowingly.

"Damn. That hurt like hell, too." Ed grinned. She laughed at him.

"You're probably doing well enough that you don't need it. I'll take it out," Claire called for a nurse to bring her some material and began to undo Ed's bandage carefully.

"This is like that fable of Aesop's."

"Hmmm?" she said as she carefully withdrew the IV and held the cotton against the wound.

"The one where the Lion spares the mouse, and later the mouse gnaws the net he's in to free him, returning the favor. My mother told me all those wonderful stories." Ed smiled.

"Even a mouse may help a lion. Especially when the lion is a sweet and wonderful one." Claire told him.

"Just cut my food for me, Mouse," Ed ordered. "My hand still hurts a little."

"Yes, Lion," she smiled at him.

He watched her.

And he came to yet another untold truth. A somewhat disturbing one.

He loved this woman.

But could he really let himself love her? He dismissed the thought for now. Right now I have an operative who should have had his whole life ahead of him about to be brought back to his adopted country in a coffin. I have a best friend that, although he does his best to hide it, has fallen head over heels for a woman who is carrying his baby. At his age, he fears not living long enough to see the child enter school. And I have the woman who loves him wondering if the baby will be born without any problems, wondering if he even knows all the things that might go wrong.

Can I allow myself to love again at a time when so many need me for so much?

He remembered his mother's words before Vietnam.

Oh Edward, must you carry the woes of the world on your shoulders. I can't stand the thought of you going off to war, maybe coming home hurt like your father did, maybe never coming home at all.

It's what I need to do, Mother. I can't just go on with my career at Nasa knowing there's a war that we need to win, and not doing everything in my power to win it. I have to go, Mother. You know that. I have to go.

You better come home to me, Edward Straker. You damn well better come home to me.

Mother, I never heard you swear before. Now is damn what a good Englishwoman says? Really, Mother. What a terrible example you're setting for your innocent son.

Oh you just shut up, you and your dreams of being a hero. You just shut up, and you go, and you make sure that you write me everyday that you can.

This isn't Boy Scout camp I'm going to, Mother. It's war. But I'll promise to try.

How could I deny you your love of Lawrence? Forgive me for hating you and Lawrence. Rest in peace, Mother. And you as well, father. And Ryan, I will take care of your Clairey.

Ed accepted the plate and he chewed in a thoughtful way. They ate together in silence.

"That was one of the best meals I've ever had," Ed finally said.

"It even beat that Italian meal we had at that restaurant. Where you nearly gave Alec a concussion."

"He deserved it. Besides, no one hits him harder than Yetunde."

Claire giggled.

He watched her, enjoying the sound of it. It died down, and she looked sad.

"This is what Ryan would have wanted. For you and I to go on with life. You know that as well as I do, Spencer."

"Yes, but that doesn't make it any easier, Edward." Claire wept.

"Do you know why that was one of the best meals I ever had?"

"No," she said.

"Do you want me to tell you?"

"Of course."

"Because I shared it. With you, Spencer. I think I might just be falling in love with you, Spencer. And its not kosher, and it comes at a difficult time, and I don't have all that much to offer you. And I'm afraid, I think I may be more afraid of allowing myself to feel this than anything I can remember. Are you going to sit there and stare, Spencer? Aren't you going to say anything to make this easier, Spencer? For the love of Olorun, say something, Spencer!"

She laughed.

"Are you converting to Yetunde's religion?"

"Well at least that got you to say something."

"I know you're scared, Edward. You've been in love before and you've been hurt. I haven't, and even though I know you'd never hurt me, I'm scared too. But you're crazy if you think you have nothing to offer me. The whole world comes alive when I'm with you. Pins and needles that sounds so corny. I'm so different from the other women in your life, Edward."

"Thank God," Ed said dramatically, and she laughed.

"I love you."

"So you've told me on several occasions. Are you going to finish that pie of yours?"

She cut a mouthful of it, stabbed it with her fork and she fed it to him. Ed chewed on it reflectively.

On the following day, Ed Straker was watching television after lunch, Claire had gone to fill in for a sick colleague, and Ed found he missed her already. Peter Evers stuck his head in the door.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Ed had been watching CNN report yet another case of anthrax, this time in the Veterans Hospital, so he welcomed any interruption. As comfortable and as suited to his needs as his private suite was, it always felt like a cage. He didn't have much choice but to become a news junkie, like half the world had ever since the terrorist attacks. It still irked him that Gay Ellis was keeping his seat warm for him. Not that he didn't have faith in her, he just wanted to feel useful again.

"You know a Carmella Diaz, Sir?"

Ed grinned.

"Lieutenant, I certainly hope so, she did the surgery on me. I take it she's waiting outside."

"Okay, wanted to make sure, Sir. Her badge looks authentic. Just doing my job, Sir."

"Carry on, Lieutenant."

The Latino orthopedic surgeon sailed in, her petite body contained in the high tech wheelchair that was her constant companion. She muttered to herself in Spanish. She may have been minus two legs due to a land mine, but she wasn't minus a sense of humor, Ed thought. He found her beautiful.

"Madre de Dios, that new security man who replaced Nate is driving me loco!" She drove her fingers through her short dark curls.

Ed laughed.

"Just doing my job, Ma'am," Ed said in a credible imitation of Evers.

"Ed, it almost makes me long to see Nate's clothing again!" she chuckled.

"You know, Evers might be right. I don't know about you, Carmella. You look like you might be concealing an nuclear bomb under that cruiser of yours." Ed said. She grinned at him. She called her wheelchair a cruiser. She had been among the first handicapped operatives that worked for Shado. Ed remembered fighting hard to get her into the organisation. He remembered Henderson's nonsensical protest that she might 'bring down morale' or 'slow things down.' Ed curtly had asked the General if he cared to engage in arm wrestling with her, or actually watch the way she interacted with his staff. Carmella had amazing upper arm strength, and worked out with weights. In the end, Ed got his operative.

"I was sorry to hear of Ryan's death. He was a vibrant young man," she said quietly.

"Yes." Ed's answering grin faded, and he nodded. "Yes, yes, he was."

"How are you doing, any pain?"

"Just a little ache. Nothing major. I'm fine. Just damn bored."

"I don't want you beginning the physical therapy yet, Ed. I want to watch that bone growth carefully. That damn bacteria defies anything I've ever seen under a microscope, and even though I carefully bypassed it to give you the new replacement, I'm unsure that you won't have any further problems. You're practically the Six Million Dollar Man nowadays with bionic parts, or so I hear from all your doctors. I don't want anything to happen to you. So I have a little surprise for you outside."

"You managed to get Jennifer Lopez to cheer me up personally?" Ed asked hopefully.

Carmella laughed.

"It isn't good when you start sounding like Alec Freeman, and he starts sounding like you. You might be sicker than we thought. No, afraid not. I have your very own cruiser for you. Matter of fact, all the bells and whistles on it even beat mine."

"You know what I think of those things, Carmella."

"I know, but it's only for a few weeks, until Claire and I know you'll be all right." Carmella opened the door and signaled to Evers to push the thing in, which he managed with some difficulty. Ed chuckled at it. It had been painted a bright blue enamel with a silver racing stripe, and had a sleek instrument panel. Evers looked at it dubiously.

"It's not an atomic bomb, Lieutenant. It's a wheelchair. Trust me." Carmella said. Evers nodded and went out. Ed noted Evers didn't look like he had believed her. "Want to take it for a ride, Commander? Need help getting up?" Diaz grinned at his sour expression. She powered her own chair over near his bedside, took an remote control out of her lab-coat, and handed it to Ed, who was putting on his silk robe. He looked at it in surprise, but accepted it. Quickly Ed worked out the control panel, and to his amazement, the sleek wheelchair moved over by itself and glided near him. He hit the lock button and gingerly, with a slow grunt, pulled himself up and out of the bed with help of the bed railing, and lowered himself into it.

"The boffins have outdone themselves this time. I see it works with the control on the side panel and via the remote."

"They get bored too, Ed. They made that baby to my specifications."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning hit the S for Straker button on the panel," she said mysteriously. Ed did and the end of the arms of the chair opened simultaneously with a small area on each side of the leg rests, plus the control panel flipped to reveal a new set of buttons. Muzzles were built into each opening that was revealed.

"Blessed bovine. This thing has a defense system?" Ed smiled slightly.

"Standard Shado weapons built right into it. Taser, 9 mm slugs, a few other surprises, let's just say that it evens the odds. I tested it out myself in the lab. Works like a charm. That thing can move at a top speed of twenty miles an hour if it's needed. Still feel bored, Ed? "

"Let's go for a stroll, Carmella."

"Wheelchair racing?"

They exchanged looks. Ed grinned.

"I don't think Mayland hospital is the right place to have races."

The door opened, and a weary looking Claire came in, with a characteristic can of grape soda in her hand.

"God, if I have to put in one more suture for the rest of my life, I'll scream. Hi Carmella, I see you gave the Commander his new toy."

"We were just about to go racing, but it's obvious to me that the wimp doesn't want to lose to me." Diaz said. Ed shot her a sharp look, even though he knew fully well she was baiting him.

Claire made a tsk tsk tsk sound.

"And I always thought the Commander of Shado was a brave man," she sighed playfully.

"Doctor's parking lot. The winner buys the loser an ice cream sundae the size of Prince Charles' ears." Ed said. "I know just the place."

"You're on, gringo." Diaz chuckled.

"Prepare to be beaten."

"In your dreams, Ed." Carmella replied to Ed and winked at Claire.

"Yetunde might want to witness this calamity, okay if I tell her about it?" Ed grinned.

"You know it's going to take him at least three hours to make sure that the parking lot is safe all clear." Claire said. Ed and Carmella looked at her in puzzlement then recognition set in.

"Lieutenant Evers," they all groaned in unison and then laughed.

Sunset had just broken over the San Francisco bay, turning the sunlight into diamonds on the water. Eric Kessler strode purposely up to an old Victoria house that was oddly draped in a Nazi flag, when all the other homes bore American flags. He carried a briefcase that looked new. It had been his intended gift for the man he had made his life partner only a few lifetimes ago. Eric had identified his body, which bore the marks of repeated knife wounds. The previous afternoon, he had sat in a courtroom in the back, and listened to the lawyer spin a tale that had unforgivably gotten his murdering clients freed on bail.

He rang the doorbell.

He had never felt so sure of himself in his life. The one thing he regretted is that he knew he was leaving Ed Straker, a man whom he had never-ending respect for, far behind him. It couldn't be helped. Under his breath, he said the name of the man he had loved, the man who lie cold and still on a steel slab in the hospital morgue, ready to be shipped back to England for burial.

Ryan.

It wasn't that he'd never seen dead people before. He could remember the night he met Straker. It had been Octoberfest, and he'd sampled a few beers with buddies before walking home. He was looking forward to going to his family's modest home, and smelling his mother's cooking. Christmas, Eric thought. Their whole lives revolved around it, he and his mother and father and his sister and younger brother. Mama would start cooking way ahead of time, and if they tried to steal a slice of freshly made stollen, she'd slap their hands as if they were all babies again. He remembered he'd been whistling, feeling no pain that night, like his friend Nathaniel put it. And then he smelled smoke, and his pace had gotten faster, and his house was nothing but ash and rubble, with strangers scurrying around like black rats trying to get at the garbage. The bodies of his father and mother and sister and brother were covered with plastic. Like they were garbage, too. He'd rushed up to the closest one, and threw back the plastic and looked deep into the mouth of hell. It was his sister, her body ripped open, intestines spilling out, and where her heart had been, an empty cavity. Something had ripped open in him too, and he was on the verge of screaming, screaming and never stopping. And a man had come up to him, tall and thin and purposeful, with perfectly groomed silver hair, and intense blue eyes. American, he'd looked American. The man had touched him lightly on the shoulder, his blue eyes haunted, spilling over with pain while his expression remained remote. Weary, Eric remembered, he'd looked weary. Those eyes weren't strangers to this sight. This man knew what had happened. The crisp voice, as crisp as the cold Munich air. Authority in the voice, while people moved around him in quiet respect.

"You must be Eric Kessler. I'm Ed Straker. You can grieve for them, or you can help me stop what happened to them from ever happening again."

I made my choice that night. Just as I'm making my choice now. Eric thought. He'd quietly asked Straker if he could go in what remained of his house, and Straker had quietly accompanied him in, even though he didn't have to. In the rubble, he'd found his father's gun. The only thing that he still had, still cherished, beside memories. And to Straker he had given all his loyalty, to Straker he had given his all. Until now. Until Ryan.

So yes, he'd seen dead bodies. But it was different, looking at the empty hulls of his family.

And of Ryan.

His Ryan.

The door opened. Eric Kessler smiled.

"Good morning, Gentlemen. I work for the Rache corporation. We manufacture wristwatches, and we have free samples of our latest model for you. All you have to do is answer a few questions." Eric undid the latch, ignoring the closest skinhead who reeked of beer and exhaled into Eric's face as he closed the door behind Eric. His companion laughed appreciatively.

"Yeah? What fucking questions do we have to answer? We don't have to answer any fucking questions, mister. Just give us the fucking watches."

"All in good time, gentlemen. First question, do you know what the word Rache means?"

"Does it mean to jerk off?" asked another, triggering another round of appreciative laughter.

Eric Kessler smiled for an eternity.

"No. It's a German word. The English translation is revenge."

With that sentence, Eric pulled the Walther PPK with its Brausch silencer that had been his father's out of the briefcase, tossed it aside and shot both of them right in the brain, one after the other. He then pulled his secure Shado cell phone out and dialed the secure line for Ed Straker.

As Eric punched the number into the phone, he reflected that it was a fine San Francisco morning, with the autumn sunshine streaming through a window.

Such a pity the two men wouldn't be able to enjoy it.

But now maybe, somehow, somewhere, now Ryan McKay-Kessler, deceased, would.

Ed Straker was laughing, grinning at Carmella Diaz and Claire. His cell phone went off.

"Straker."

"Commander. I wanted to hear your voice."

"Lieutenant Kessler. I'm glad you called. I can't say how-"

"Commander. Ed. Funny, isn't it, I never had the guts to call you Ed, even though I've considered you a friend as well as my superior. I know you feel for my loss."

It was the expression on Ed's face that made Claire stop, and cross over to him, her face a question mark. Yetunde and Carmella sensed something too.

"I've sent Alec and Nathaniel to come and get Ryan's body and bring it home. We'll see that Ryan's killers-"

"No need Commander, I just settled that myself."

"Christ. Lieutenant." Ed lowered his voice urgently. "What have you done?"

"Rache. Revenge. With my father's gun. It felt right. No going back now. Commander, there is something I need to say to you."

"Eric. Listen to me. Listen to me carefully. I want you to-"

"No man living had more respect for you than I did. Respect, awe. And love. I'm truly sorry, Commander."

"Lieutenant Kessler, we can-"

Eric Kessler put the muzzle of the gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger.

The sound echoed over Ed's mobile phone receiver, and disbelief flooded his features. Then he slowly closed his eyes, squeezing them tight. She watched him fight for control. As always, he won.

"Edward, what is it?" Claire said, worried now.

"Not now, Spencer," Ed said, opening his eyes.

Ed hung up and dialed the direct line to Alec Freeman. He didn't mince words. There was one heartfelt fuck from Alec, said loud enough that even Claire could hear it. And then Ed could hear Alec tell Nathaniel, and Nathaniel let out a string of oh shit, shit, shit. Then a long broken cry.

"Alec, tell Nathaniel I expect him to pull himself together and perform his duty. You need to find out where Kessler is. And. . . handle it. Straker out."

"Edward."

"Claire, Alec and Nate are fine, but there will be more than one burial," he said formally. Puzzlement clouded her expression, and then reality hit, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to silence her shocked cry. Yetunde next to her, put it together, and sobbed. Claire steadied herself for his sake, and took his hand.

I'm here for you, Edward, she said without words. I won't let you ever be in pain alone.

Ed nodded, taking brief comfort in her deep coffee bean brown eyes, squeezed her hand back, dropped it and then he looked at Yetunde.

"Pull yourself together, Folsade. The father of that child of yours is going to need you when he comes home," Ed ordered.

"Too much darkness, Edward," she wept, "It is all too much! Ah ah ah! Too much!"

Ed Straker was remembering the courage of a young man in Munich, so many years ago so at first he did not respond. Carmella and Claire were at his side, quiet, tears streaming down her cheeks. The only thing holding Claire together was Ed's presence.

Ed nodded vaguely.

"Yes." was the only word he said.

"Oh man oh man oh man."

"Nate."

"We should have known. Man, we should have known."

"He didn't even tell us he was going to get married. "

"I can't believe he did that. He was this totally together dude. Shit. I can't get it all inside my head, Alec."

"We've all got to be strong. We can't let Ed down. You know that. Nate, as far as I'm concerned, he was a victim of the war with the aliens."

"What are you talkin' about Alec?"

"Eric died years ago. He died with his family. I was there that night. Ed was going through the motions. We were both out in Germany because the UFO attacks were getting heavy there. Ed went to every village, spoke to every survivor, and by the time we got to the Kessler house, he was exhausted. Most of the time, somebody survives, Nate. Not with the Kesslers. But we didn't know Eric hadn't been home. I told Ed I'd handle it, and he said Eric needed to hear about everything from him personally. Kessler was about to lose his mind and Ed turned him around. "

"You know, I sometimes think about Mom and my sisters, moving them to some safe place, you know? I'm afraid one day I'm not going to get that weekly phone call, all of them yelling at me, Mom asking about my health, asking if I got married yet. Asking me if I-" Nate broke into great shuddering sobs. Alec reached over and took Nate into his arms like he was a child. Seeing the towering security man break down in front of him was testing his own strengths, and after Shroeder's news, they were close to snapping.

How much more of this can we stand? Alec thought. At least Ed's being looked after.

Ed Straker was standing in his hospital suite looking out the window the next morning when Claire Spencer came in with his breakfast things. He was standing up.

Standing up?

"My God, Edward."

Ed turned around.

"What now?"

"What now? YOU! No wheelchair."

"Oh. That. Yes. I've been walking a bit. Started last night. Slow going, but with the cane, I manage. The brace was driving me crazy so I-"

"You removed it! Edward, Edward, Edward! What am I going to do with you?"

"Make me more coffee, maybe. I don't feel like having anything else. Claire, you know Ryoko, Maurice's wife in Japan?"

"Ryoko was Margaret's mother." Claire poured, watching Ed carefully out of the corner of her eye. Ed was in pajamas and robe, walking cane in hand. So much for the physical therapy and a slow approach to recovery, Claire thought. Slowly wasn't a word Ed understood well.

"Grandmother. She just called me, we had a long talk. She told me some things that Yolanda told her. Yolanda has never spoken to me since Margaret's death. She blames me for it."

"You? Why? That's ridiculous.'

"Ryoko told me that Yolanda confessed to her that she and Margaret were together, Claire.

"You sound surprised, Edward. How come? Wasn't Yolanda her best friend?"

"Not together in that sense. Yolanda said that she and Margaret were lovers."

Claire motioned Ed to the chair beside his bed, and she took one beside his.

"Lovers? When?"

"During our marriage." Ed chuckled awkwardly. "Ryoko believes it. That's why Margaret having an affair didn't surprise her. She didn't think Margaret had much of a chance making the marriage work. Ryoko said she was as mixed up as her mother was."

"Yolanda's simply trying to strike out at you," Claire replied. Ed widened his eyes.

"You don't even know Yolanda, Spencer. You certainly don't know Margaret, either."

"Why tell you now, Edward? What does it matter, other than to put another thorn in your side? What did she ever do to stop Margaret from going to her destruction? She must have known Ryoko would tell you. She must have guessed it would hurt."

"You're only trying to protect me, Claire."

"You actually believe it?" she countered in surprise.

"Coffee's getting cold."

"Edward Straker, you're a fool to believe her. I don't care what Ryoko says. It's just a way to lash out at you. Don't you think the timing is a bit strange?"

"Ryoko knew Margaret. Better than I did. Timing?"

Claire fixed Ed his coffee the way he liked it, light and double sweet and pushed his trolley into place.

"Edward, that you inherited all that money and property is well known. Yolanda no doubt resents it. This is her way of striking out. Margaret was less than a perfect granddaughter to Ryoko. Alec and Nathaniel told me a little about what happened. Ryoko knows that Margaret cheated on you, how much of a leap is it that she'd think her granddaughter would cheat on you with Yolanda, too?"

"I don't think for a moment that I ever understood Margaret or loved her outside of need and lust. I just let myself believe that we could get over the wall that was Shado. Her jealousy- For God's sake, Claire, she was jealous of my affection for a small boy named Devon. I can't help wondering-" Ed looked away, silent. Claire had been pouring herself a cup, and she set it down on Ed's trolley.

"Wondering if my feelings for you are real, or if I am after something else? Your money, maybe. Wondering if I'll be the next one to betray you?"

Ed turned his head. He looked straight at Claire. He nodded, studying her.

"Trusting me is going to take some time, I know. I'm willing to wait. It might never happen. I'll still be here, Edward. Now let's get you back into that brace."

"No, Claire, as a matter of fact I need to get back to my office. I'm fine, walking with the cane."

"Do you really want to fall on that ass of yours in front of all your operatives, Straker?"

"I have no intention of falling, Spencer," snapped Ed.

"Nobody that falls does, Straker!" Claire told him, irritated.

"You have no right-"

"I'm your doctor. One of them, anyway."

"I told you. I'm fine. I can walk fine."

"You'll want it to look like there's nothing wrong with you, Straker. After all, your operatives can't find out you're human. So let's see you manage without the cane." Claire regretted the words but it was too late.

"Damn you! All right, if that's what it takes!" Ed pushed the trolley away from him, and the coffee bounced around, causing a good amount of drip onto the trolley and the floor. Peter Evers opened the door and poked his head in.

"Everything okay in here, Sir?"

"Damn it, Evers, if I want you, I'll ask for you! Must you always be poking your nose into everything I do?"

"Sir, yes I do, Sir."

"Who are you expecting to walk into my damn hospital room, Bin Laden?"

"Oh no Sir, he's in Afghanistan somewhere, Sir. But I've been-"

"GET OUT!"

Evers looked at Claire for a second, she nodded briskly, and he looked back at Straker.

"Yes, Sir. I'll be right outside, Sir."

"GOD! When in the blazes will Nathaniel get back? I'm about to strangle that Evers!"

"Enough of this being stubborn, Edward. Let me get you back into bed. I shouldn't have been on your case like that. I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to actually-"

Ed Straker picked up the cane and threw it across the room. There was a substantial crack. Claire went to go examine the cane. There was a definite fissure in it.

"So much for the dependability of Mayland hospital equipment. Now what, Edward?"

Ed Straker stood up, and he strode halfway across the room, the eye of the hurricane in blue silk robe and monogrammed velvet bedroom slippers. Then one foot hit the spilled coffee, and slid forward, bringing the rest of him, and he dropped. Claire let out a shriek. Peter Evers opened the door, took the scene in, and looked at Ed Straker. Ed Straker's jaw was clenched, and he gave Evers a look. No alien ever looked so threatening as the boss did, Evers decided, and left quickly. Claire calmed down and sat on the floor next to Ed.

"You were saying something about not falling? Are you in pain? And Straker, don't you even think about lying to me. I'll toss your butt in the MRI so fast-"

"Bruised my hand. Besides, if that damn coffee-"

"Let me see."

"Do I have a choice?" he grumbled.

"No. I'll want to X-ray this, and the rest of your stubborn body, just to make sure you're okay. Whether you learned a lesson from this little incident, I sincerely doubt."

"I was wrong. I admit it now."

"At least you admit-"

"You aren't the Snow White, or the Joan of Arc type. I'm thinking Wicked Witch now. No idea how I missed it the first time round." Ed mused thoughtfully.

"If you don't shut up, I'm going to leave you on the floor."

"Fine. Good view from here. Someone needs to vacuum under my bed. The dust-bunnies have a fortress built under there and are planning a coup d' etat. Damn hand hurts. Throbs bad."

"Don't expect sympathy from me."

"It was a statement of fact, I didn't say one blasted thing about asking for sympathy."

They looked at one another, a war of wills. It was Claire who began chuckling first. Ed broke into a grin.

"You better not be laughing at me, Spencer." Ed said as she carefully felt his body for any injuries. It was taking some doing to ignore the feelings that arose in him from being touched and the steady throb in his hand assisted in denying baser masculine instincts at that moment. He looked at her, wondering if she was fighting baser instincts of her own, but she was damnably professional. To hell with her anyway, he told himself.

"Oh never, Commander, Sir. Lean on me, Commander, Sir, and get up slowly." Claire said. God but the feel of him was driving her nuts. Job, think of the job. Stupid girl, he could have been more seriously injured. When did Edward Straker ever refuse a challenge? She sighed to herself.

"Everything feels all right, hand feels like hell. Did Peter Evers have to witness that?"

"Don't worry, he knows already you're still threatening. Even when asleep. Especially when on the floor because you're too stubborn to use a hip brace and a cane, Commander, Sir."

"You'll pay for this, I just have to think of a suitable way to get back at you."

"Anything you say, Commander. Can I go have that last Italian dinner with you before you make me walk the gangplank?"

"No." His voice was surprisingly soft. Her professionalism was popping like bubble wrap, Claire reasoned. God, could that voice be any more sensual? God, could his eyes be any bluer? Wait a minute, was he really looking at her breasts? My God, he is looking at my breasts. Professional, Spencer. Stay professional.

"God, you're a heartless bastard," she said quickly.

"Yes," Ed agreed.

Ed quietly leaned on her all the way to the X-ray department. Peter Evers followed.

At a safe distance.

"You sure?"

"Yes. I'll explain to Ed myself that you needed some time to get away as soon as we get back to HQ. I want to go see Yetunde first though, see how my baby with the weird name is."

"I don't know. I think I should go be with the Commander," Nate said uneasily. "Who's taking care of him anyway, Alec?" The security guard twisted one of his unruly dreadlocks. Alec tried to remember what it was like to have that much hair.

"Uh, I don't know," Alec said, watching them load Ryan's and Eric's coffin onto the van.

"Oh shit. Not Diego? Diego can be fiesty," Nate said.

"Not him. I mean, I don't know." Alec examined the back of his hand. From somewhere, he'd accumulated a lot of liver spots to join the others that decorated his aging hand. He got into the Shado jeep with Nate, threw his suitcase in the back, and handed the keys to Nate. Nate's face fell. "What?"

"Holy shit, tell me he didn't get assigned Pete."

"Okay. I won't tell you."

"Shit! I got to get to him. Pete would give a saint a heart attack. Pete doesn't go by the book, he wrote it."

"Probably printed every letter, too." Alec groaned. "Yes, some genius assigned Peter Evers to Ed. He is next to you in seniority, you know, and his record of service is perfect."

"What idiot chose Pete?" Nate demanded, feeding the Shado jeep petrol and trying not to think about the bodies of his friends in the van that was ahead of him.

"A genius named Alec Freeman." Alec sighed.

"You want to kill the Commander? You want to give the Commander a stroke? What got into you?"

"He's the only one I trust beside you to make sure nothing happens to Ed." Alec picked at his cuticle in a forlorn, guilty manner.

"Man oh man, Keith Ford should be runnin' a G-6 on you. What side are you really on?" Nate reluctantly stopped for a red light. When it turned to green, Nate speeded up until he was a few feet behind the van.

"Oh cut it out, Nathaniel. You know I'm right. Evers is our best man, next to you. Matter of fact, he's the one I'm going to recommend move in with Ed along with you when Ed's place is ready. Might even be ready later today."

"I gotta work on that guy to mellow some if I am going to wind up working with him. But I probably won't get the chance."

"Why?"

"Cause if I know the Commander, he's killed Pete by now, and he'll need us to bury the body."

Alec looked at Nate, and laughed. It felt so good to laugh. He found he was missing Yetunde terribly. He looked at his hand, scarred by age, and his mood changed. How many tomorrows can I offer you and the baby, Yetunde? How many? And how do I leave Ed Straker behind? How do I do that?

"You think too much," Nate said, snatching a brief look at the Australian and then concentrating on his driving. "You're beginning to get as bad as the Commander. All doom and gloom and angst."

"Nobody's as bad as Ed in those categories." Alec grinned.

"You figure they're going to get married?" Nate asked, obviously frustrated at having to drive slowly. Anything under fifty miles an hour was slowly to Nate, Alec knew.

"Who?"

"You know who."

"Oh. Them. I hope so. She'd be good for him. But then that's what I thought about Mags, so who knows? But he's fallen for her, all right." Alec smiled.

"Yeah. She's got that adoring look in her eyes. I've seen it in women. I ought to know about women, too. I don't have eight sisters for nothing, Alec. I'll tell you something, though. I thought Mags was okay, but every once in a while I saw something in her eyes that I didn't like. I don't think the Commander even noticed it."

"What?"

"The money thing. The glitter in the eyes."

"She knew how to use Ed's credit cards, I'll give her that much," Alec agreed.

"Know what Claire said when she read that Vanity Fair article I showed her? The one I bought at the airport? That Dunne guy must have faxed in his story right before his magazine went to press. The Commander had a fit when he saw it."

"You mean Ed didn't manage to burn all the copies? No but I assume you do." Alec grinned, a little nervous. Nate was good at keeping up with Shado gossip, and Alec depended on him for such things.

"Yeah. She was finishing up her charts in the Mayland cafeteria. The Commander sent me to go get something to eat, and I like the cafeteria food in Mayland's better than ours, so I ran into her. She said 'Oh Nathaniel this is wonderful maybe Edward doesn't have to be dependent on Henderson ever again. My mother knew Lawrence Malone socially, and he was supposed to be worth millions. Oh Nathaniel, this is wonderful!' And she ran to see the Commander. Ran all the way to his office in HQ," Nate chuckled.

"She said that?" Alec said, interested.

"Yeah. Not like Mags, was it?"

"Yetunde thinks Claire is destined for Ed. Yetunde's really into all that destiny kind of stuff. I caught her rolling bones around on the rug. You think you know someone and they start making like a witch doctor." Alec chuckled.

Nathaniel nodded.

"I know how to find out if she's okay for our Commander."

"How?"

"I know someone who will run their own G-6 on her. Jamaican Santeria style."

"Huh?"

"My mom. Nobody lies to her. Trust me on that one. She reads lights candles and speaks to the dead, including my Dad. She's been wanting to meet Straker for a long time anyway. There's only one problem. She doesn't speak that much English. More semi-French Creole and some made up language."

"That's all Ed needs. Your communicating-to-the-dead mother. I'm sure she'll get on well with my bone-reading lover. Maybe we should ring up Lily Marsh for God's sake. Have a seance. Wait a minute. Didn't we hear that Lily's marriage went kaput? Didn't Frances get an e-mail from her, moaning about how undependable men are? She sent several to Ed but Miss Ealand deleted them. She's a bit biased where Lily is concerned, and as for Claire, according to her, the jury's still out." Alec grinned.

"Yeah. I was wondering why Angel and Francis weren't coming around, but they were in the States attending some Anglican thing or something. I thought we should all give the Commander a surprise home-warming party, so I called them, and they love the idea, Frances is gonna cook and Angel told me about the e mail. Why?" Nate asked.

"Invite Lily Marsh. I know just the person to get her together with," Alec said, eyes gleaming. "Match made in heaven."

Nate looked at Alec, puzzled. Suddenly his jaw dropped.

"Alec, that's just too damn disgusting to even think about, you've gotta be heartless to even think of it." Nate said in shock.

"Okay, you're right, I don't know what got into me," Alec said in mock guilt.

"I'll call her as soon as we get back to Shado," Nathaniel Zouri said eagerly.

Alec grinned at Nate. Nate sighed after a minute. Alec looked at him questioningly as Nate pulled into the Mayland lot.

"It doesn't feel right, having this much fun when their bodies are in that van in front of us."

"Neither Eric nor Ryan would want us to mourn and be sad, Nate. You know that. As a matter of fact, I'm going to have a wake for them after the funeral. At a time like this, what you have to think about is not the dead, but the welfare of the living they leave behind."

"Yeah." Nate agreed, and fell silent.

"The MRI shows you sprained tendons in your hand, and you have a little soft tissue damage to your leg, but you'll live, Commander. I even got a new cane for you."

"Extremely efficient, Spencer."

Ed watched her bandage his hand. His phone rang and he reached for it with the wounded hand without thinking. The fine-boned features rearranged themselves into a obvious wince. Claire rolled her eyes. He grinned. Gingerly holding onto the receiver, he announced himself.

"Straker. Alec! My God it's good to hear your voice. Yes. Yes, I understand. Yes, I figured as much. I've always known my bodyguard's heart was bigger than he was. I'm going to have Colonel Ellis arrange for the funeral in our chapel. McKay and Kessler both requested cremation. Hmm? Wake? Yes, all right. I think so too, Alec. Your house? Fine, fine. You do? What? All right, certainly. Yes, yes. Ten? Make it five, Alec. Goodbye."

Ed looked at Claire. She was staring out the window.

"You all right?"

"I can't believe Ryan is dead. I don't know if I can go to this funeral."

"Of all people, he'd want you there. You know that."

Claire spun around, eyes bright with tears.

"Edward, you didn't know Ryan before we wound up here. If he got a blister, he'd think he was dying of AIDS. He lived in extreme terror of it ever since he found out Tim had it. I teased him, called him a big baby. Now he's dead because of some stupid bastards that didn't think he was as good as they were. I'm glad Eric killed them, Edward! I'm glad! I wanted them dead!"

"Ryan wouldn't have wanted them dead," Ed replied quietly.

"I don't care!"

"Eric Kessler put a bullet in his head for a reason. Not because he feared going up on charges. No one would have questioned the fact that he wasn't in his right mind at the time he did the killing. After all, it looked like the two men that had stabbed his significant other to death were going to get away. No one would have put Eric in gaol under those circumstances. He was clearly insane. The fact is, he wasn't, Claire."

"What are you talking about?" she answered, confused. Ed's expression was impassive.

"Lieutenant Kessler wasn't insane. He knew what he wanted to do, he planned it carefully, and he knew that what he was doing was not only against the law in the United States, but against Shado law as well. Military law, Claire. This organisation, as you well know, is run on strictly military lines. He knew that I would not approve of what he'd done, and that he'd put me in an impossible position. So he did it, and he told me he'd done it, and he apologised to me, said his final words to me. It was a waste, Claire. It was an unnecessary, unjustified waste of life. There was nothing noble about it, not at all."

"They killed Ryan!"

"Yes, they killed Ryan. And Eric killed himself. So I wound up losing two men instead of one. This afternoon I will have to stand up and say what a fine operative Lieutenant Kessler was. The sad thing is, I won't mean a word of it. I'm angry at Eric Kessler, Claire. I don't appreciate being put in this situation. So grieve for Ryan, yes, but don't grieve for long. Remember that Ryan McKay died at the height of his ability, and at a time of great personal happiness and contentment. He died knowing you'd be cared for. He basically entrusted you into my care. He'd want you to have joy, Claire. Not sorrow."

"Let me ask you something, Edward. If someone had killed Alec, and they'd gotten away with it, would you leave their fate to the courts?"

"I'm not talking about Alec, I'm talking about-"

"Edward Straker, you know as well as I do that you'd strangle them with your bare hands. So don't give me that. Maybe you're right about Eric. But when you say that Eric was a fine operative at the funeral, you may convince yourself that you don't mean it. But I watched your pain after you got that phone call. And I know you're lying to yourself. Even if a damn housefly dies under your watch, you feel responsible and you grieve. That's the kind of man you are. I know that, and anyone with a brain knows that. I'll go order your damn lunch and get ready for the funeral."

"Claire!" Ed called, but she had gone. Ed sighed. If there was anything he resented, he thought to himself defiantly, it was a woman when she thought she was right. And the brunette that had stormed out of there thought she was right way too often. "Damn." Ed said to the empty room. A moment later, he smiled, knowing the thought was a lie. Some arguments were worth losing, he thought with amusement. Especially when you know she really was right.

"Strangling would be too merciful for anyone who harmed Alec, Claire," Ed said aloud, with a grin. Then he sighed, and took out a piece of paper from the night table, and started the first draft of the elegy for Ryan and Eric.

"Let me tell you my impressions of Ryan McKay. During the incident with Turner's mother, he foolishly decided to go after her at a time when he was outgunned and his training wasn't finished. Naturally when I heard about this, I had a little talk with him. To my amazement, he responded by having a little talk with me back. Now, I am not used to being lectured back at, as many of you whom I have disciplined may have concluded."

Ed waited patiently for the chuckles to subside, then he continued. "He taught me what love was, taught me that you shouldn't throw away love just because you have different expectations of what love means. He told me of his grief that his parents never appreciated him, only saw him as a failure because he was gay, and somehow he had gone on with his life, had coped bravely with their rejection of him. In listening to Ryan McKay, and witnessing his courage, I also learned about life. My own life is enriched by knowing a young man named Ryan McKay, and I know everyone who knew him was equally enriched. He may be gone from us, but the lessons that he taught us will never die. I propose to you that the way we should remember both Lieutenant Kessler and Ryan McKay is to live life to the fullest, and should we be so fortunate to find love, that we love to the fullest. I wish to conclude my remarks with the following. I am giving Ryan McKay the rank of Lieutenant, a full field promotion posthumously. Please join me in saluting our fallen Shado colleagues who served to the extent of their abilities. Lieutenant Eric Kessler. Lieutenant Ryan McKay."

The Shado officers and operatives gathered in the little chapel all rose to their feet as their Commander turned toward the two coffins, and faultlessly saluted them. Everyone in the room saluted along with Ed. Except for three people. One was Claire Spencer, for she was sobbing so hard, she could not rise from her seat. Yetunde held onto Alec's arm tightly and looked sadly in her direction, her own face all but obliterated by tears. Another was Peter Evers, who was looking around carefully, no doubt expecting an entire band of renegade ninjas to burst into the chapel, thought Ed in frustration. The other person was General James Henderson. He glowered at Edward Straker. Ed ignored him.

A few more people spoke and then the coffins slid slowly into the area where the incineration would take place. The sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows with their abstracted colours may have been simply an illusion, since the chapel, like Shado HQ itself, was several feet below the studio, but it was still strangely comforting, thought Ed. Far too many good people working for Shado had died over the years and Ed had ordered the chapel designed to remember them. Ed nodded crisply at Nathaniel Zouri, seated in the front row. Zouri came up shakily to the podium, and Ed touched him gently on the shoulder, then went to the front row with the aid of his new cane and took a seat beside Alec and Yetunde.

All eyes rested on the tall Jamaican bodyguard with his dreadlocks temporarily drawn back neatly with a black leather hair tie. That was the only indication that he was at a funeral, for he wore a crimson red silk suit and a pair of alligator skin boots. Ed gave him a reassuring smile.

There was a little gasp from the assembled crowd as he reached behind the podium and picked up a guitar. Nathaniel began to strum it, and he began to sing in an amazingly melodic voice. Alec whispered to Ed.

"You knew about this?"

"I knew about this." Ed repeated softly, and sat back, stirred by the words.

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me....I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now, I see. T'was Grace that taught...my heart to fear. And Grace, my fears relieved. How precious did that Grace appear...the hour I first believed. Through many dangers, toils and snares...we have already come. T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far...and Grace will lead us home."

When Nathaniel started the next stanza, accompanying himself solely by guitar, Ed and many others joined him in reverent song. The coffins floated out of sight, and as the panel slid into place behind them, and the bodies burst into flame, Nathaniel's voice never faltered, although tears fell rapidly from his eyes. It wasn't a Nathaniel Zouri that was regularly seen, Ed thought, this talented, broken hearted man singing a tribute to his fallen colleagues. Ed brushed back his own tears as Nathaniel sang, and Ed sang with him.

"The Lord has promised good to me...His word my hope secures. He will my shield and portion be...as long as life endures. When we've been here a thousand years... bright shining as the sun. We've no less days to sing God's praise...then when we've first begun. Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me....I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now, I see."

There was a silence when Nathaniel went to his seat on the other side of Ed.

"Extremely moving, Nathaniel. Well done," Ed whispered as he got up, taking his cane.

"Thank you, Sir. Thank you for letting me do it."

"As long as life endures," Alec said, and Ed looked at him, but he continued to the front of the room.

"Thank you for attending. Dismissed."

People filed slowly out of the room, until only a handful remained. An operative came out and somberly nodded to Ed. Ed nodded back. Ryan had wanted his ashes scattered on Moonbase, and Eric had wanted his dispersed over his native Munich. The operative would see that their wishes were respected, Ed knew. When he'd gone, Ed sat in and leaned wearily back against his chair. Claire had finally fallen into silence, and looked in Ed's direction, concerned. She was about to go suggest he take a walk with her, knowing it was a way Ed often coped in difficult times, when Henderson came over. She sneered and Yetunde noticed it and grinned to herself, then shot her own less than respectful look at Henderson.

"I want to talk to you Straker."

"Go ahead." Ed sat up straighter in the chair, bracing himself for whatever it might be. He knew Henderson wouldn't be offering his sympathy at the men's deaths. Whatever it was no doubt had to do with Ed's fitness to command Shado after repeated injuries and illnesses.

"In private, Straker."

Shit, thought Ed Straker, but he wordlessly got up, shook his head at Nathaniel and Evers, made a sweeping gesture to the grizzled general indicating he go first, and then followed the general out, using his cane as necessary. Moments afterwards, Claire Spencer stood up and tiptoed out. She got out into the hall just in time to see Henderson disappear into a side door that led to a storage room, followed by Ed Straker. She tiptoed up to the door when it closed. She had no problem hearing the two men. Henderson pitched his voice loudly in irritation, and as for Ed's distinctive voice, she thought, it could be heard in the last seat of any theatre, it carried as if the Shado commander was on stage.

"I don't like this, Straker."

"Pardon me?"

"I never approved of those two being allowed into Shado in the first place."

"I'm well aware of that, General."

"Damn homosexuals have no place in the military. Interfering with Shado by having operatives show up for a funeral for two queers. I've always felt you weren't in your right mind, Straker, and now I know you're not. Lieutenant Ellis isn't qualified for command-"

"Colonel Ellis, Sir. I authorized her promotion. But go on. This is getting interesting."

"A promotion I never approved of. Now I hear that space tracker Nina Barry has started Interceptor flight training. Ridiculous. Were you aware of this?"

"I certainly was, General. Initial studies have indicated she is more than qualified for it, and she will be making her first test flight very soon. I'm confident she'll be going on actual sorties before long. Anything else?"

"You might think your job is secure, Straker, but believe me, it isn't. You're running amuck. Don't think I haven't read the reports about you. Colonel Foster keeps me up to date."

"That's extremely helpful of him, General. Well within his limited capabilities, too. Anything else, sir? I've promised my operatives that I would attend a wake for Lieutenant Kessler and Lieutenant McKay. I don't believe you've been invited, must be an oversight on someone's part. Now if you'll excuse me?"

"You're out of line, Straker. I'm going to get you kicked out of here, one way or another. You've become soft, you can't handle the job any longer. I'll get you out of this organization. It's just a matter of time."

Ed didn't reply. His hand closed into a fist, the hand that Claire had bandaged, and it began to throb like the blazes.

"Well Straker, nothing to say? Is the so called great Commander Straker at a loss for words?"

"And it's just a matter of time before I expose you as the misogynist, homophobic, close minded, traitorous son of a bitch you've become," Ed replied, every word the crack of a whip. Henderson's face went scarlet with rage.

"How dare you! I'll have you thrown out for-"

"Let's not fool each other, shall we, James? We both know, don't we? Thorn in your side, am I? But we know what the truth is. Another truth untold. The fact that from the day I accepted Shado, you hated my guts. Because you knew, wheelchair or not, injuries or not, that I was the better man, and that's why I was chosen. You've never forgiven me for besting you, have you, James? Your jealousy has consumed you. We were friends once, James, I was your loyal officer, but my command put an end to that. I got to the top of the ladder ahead of you. You may wear the stars, but you know that it's me that was given Shado, that gave everything to Shado, that sacrificed for Shado, and shed blood sweat and tears for Shado, you know I am the best man. Yet you harassed me at every turn, made me fight for every last pound, did your best to humiliate me and belittle me in front of the Commission. Because I'm the better man, and the better officer and the better human being. I've taken crap from you for years. Crap that interfered with my job. Crap that put my operatives in danger. You and I could have worked together, but you never could stand losing. Especially to me. Isn't that right, James? I'm tired of putting up with it. As a matter of fact, I'm finished putting up with it as of now. If you try and interfere with my command again, I'm going to go in front of that Commission, but not to ask for money from them. Oh no. I'm going to finally tell them what I just told you. And then I'm going to request that they force you to retire. So, which is it, Ja-"

General James Henderson struck Ed Straker with his fist with all his might, causing Ed to go flying over a nearby discarded file cabinet. Ed slowly and painfully climbed to his feet, bruised and put a hand to his nose. Blood poured from it in a fairly steady stream.

"It's a court martial offense to strike a fellow officer, General," Ed said coldly, leaning on the cabinet and pinching his nose to try and stop the bleeding. Judging from the extreme pain, Ed realized Henderson had undoubtedly broken his nose. Henderson laughed crazily, sharply, smugly.

"Nobody will believe I hit you, you son of a bitch. I'll say that I defended myself and you hit me first. And there's nobody here to say otherwise. Who do you think they'll believe?"

"You filthy bast-" Ed began.

"Wrong, Henderson," a voice said and both men jumped. "I saw what happened. And you can count on me testifying against you at the court martial. As a matter of fact, it'll be my pleasure. You know what else, Henderson? Edward isn't dependent on you anymore. He can fund Shado on his own now. You can't hold anything over his head anymore. Edward is free of you. FREE."

"Claire," Ed muttered in disbelief. In the interim of their fighting, Claire had come unnoticed into the room. Henderson stared at her in shock.

"Another thing, Henderson. If you ever lay a hand on Edward again, I'll break it. Don't think I won't. My brother taught me how. Now get the hell out of here. Get away from Edward. Get the hell out of Edward's life."

General James Henderson pushed past her and went out. Claire stood there, shaking.

"Claire," Ed said.

"I don't want to hear it, Edward! I wasn't going to stand there and let him threaten you like that! I don't know what stopped me from jumping on him and scratching his eyes out when he hit you! So don't even tell me about which Shado rules and regul-"

"I was merely going to ask you to examine my nose. I don't seem to be able to stop the bleeding. I think he broke it. He used to be a boxer before he joined the Air Force. I can't go to the wake with a broken nose. Unseemly, you know." Ed chuckled.

"Oh Edward! Oh God, come on, I'll take you right to Mayland, I don't want those medical centre doctors going anywhere near you. I want Dr. Prabhu to look at it, he's our best plastic surgeon." She tore a piece of her blouse material and gave it to Ed, who carefully dabbed at his nose with it.

"I think I actually want to go to Mayland for a change." Ed groaned. Claire chuckled. "You better not be laughing at me, Spencer."

"Yes, Commander, Sir." Claire led him out. Alec Freeman came up with Yetunde, accompanied by Nathaniel and Peter.

"Henderson just ran past us like he was being chased by a - holyshit, Commander! What the hell happened to you?" Nate demanded. Peter Evers looked around eagerly, and Ed realized he must have thought that the renegade ninjas had finally showed up and Shado was under attack.

"Ran into a door. Relax, Lieutenant Evers. We aren't under siege by the aliens yet. Go clear the underground corridor to Mayland for me. Make sure it hasn't been invaded by members of al Qaeda or Jehovah's Witnesses. Or even more chilling, anyone from Microsoft."

"Sir! Yes, Sir!"

Ed watched Evers run off with real awe. Claire grinned at him.

"My God. That man isn't for real," Ed said.

"I personally like Peter and am glad he will make Shado safe from Microsoft," Yetunde said, and Alec and the others chuckled at her. "Now, Edward, what in Olorun happened? Why aren't you headed for medical centre?"

"They treat people with about the same consideration as mechanics have when changing a tyre," Claire said. "I want Dr. Prabhu to set the bone in Ed's nose."

"Who?"

"Plastic surgeon, Yetunde. New. One of the best," Claire said.

"That sounds wise, but what happened?"

Several pairs of eyes widened as Ed Straker related the tale between dabs at his nose with the now blood soaked fragment of Claire's blouse. When he was done telling them what had occurred, he gave them a patented, boyish Straker smile. And then he fainted dead away.

Fortunately they all caught him before he hit the hard, unforgiving Shado corridor floor.

Ed Straker's eyelashes fluttered, and he could make out a face in front of him. Wearing a turban. Maybe Peter Evers had been right to worry, and Shado had been taken over by the Taliban. Yetunde's going to hate having to wear a burqua, Ed thought.

"There we are now, he is rising from slumber. This is good," a heavily East Indian accented voice said. It occurred to Ed now that maybe he had died, and God was wearing a turban. This wasn't good. Maybe it was Allah. He opened his eyes fully, and was relieved to see Claire beside him.

"Hi," he said. "What happened? Where am I? Don't tell me, let me guess. My hospital room."

"Handsome and brilliant. My heart can hardly stand it. How do you feel? Dr. Prabhu isn't too great with English, but he is great with plastic surgery. Your nose is going to be as fine as the rest of you." Claire smiled down at him. Ed carefully sat up and examined first his heavily bandaged nose, then the turbaned doctor. He didn't know whether to shake his hand or to salaam.

"Thank you, Doctor."

"Oh much gladness to help, Commander."

Ed tried to clear his mind of a mental image of Peter Sellers as an East Indian guru. He didn't have much success, so he just grinned, and nodded. The doctor bowed low and went out.

"Commander, I heard what happened. I've started the paperwork to start court martial proceedings against General Henderson." Colonel Virginia Lake was saying.

"I didn't see you over there, Virginia. No. I've got a feeling a court martial won't be necessary. Spencer here made it pretty obvious that her testimony could bring him down. I think his hands are tied. He knows that every word I said is true. Somewhere in him there still is a decent man." Ed said sadly.

Claire rolled her eyes and he grinned at her.

"A lot of us were waiting for you to make that little speech to him, you know," Colonel Ellis said, standing with Lake.

"Oh?" Ed said in amusement.

"It wasn't all that difficult to figure out who blocked my promotion year after year, and we all knew he tried to stop Dr. Diaz from joining Shado. So I think I speak for all the rest of us when I say, what took you so long?"

"I don't know, really. I guess some part of me believed things would change. I believed he'd turn around as we both grew older. It didn't materialise, and he was standing in my way, trying to keep Shado in the middle-ages with his outmoded, prejudicial beliefs. Instead, he just fought me every step of the way. I guess what happened was inevitable. I guess he just pushed me too far. If it turns out he's learned his lesson, then it was worth a broken nose." Ed chuckled.

"You're too quick to let him off the hook, Edward," Claire said.

"Maybe. We'll see what he does with it." Ed looked at his wristwatch. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, I am due at a wake." Ed swung his legs out from under the covers and tentatively tried to stand. Claire gave him his cane reluctantly.

"The wake is going to be for you soon if you keep running around when you're injured," grumbled Claire.

"You're going to drive me to Alec and Yetunde's house so I can attend the wake? What a nice gesture!" Ed said. Lake and Ellis chuckled and Claire looked heavenward, then back at Ed. "I won't have to, because Alec's here and he can. He wanted to talk to you about something in private. He wouldn't say what." Claire shrugged.

"Okay, tell him to come in and I'll find out what's bothering him," Ed told her. The audience all went out, and were replaced by Alec.

"I see you survived the ordeal. Not that any plastic surgery could fix that face of yours."

"And I hear that when you were born, your mother screamed. After she saw your face." Ed grinned. Alec looked at Ed for a long time, until Ed frowned, uneasy.

"What's the matter, Alec?"

"You've got to promise me you'll take care of Yetunde and Ayomide, Ed."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"I'm going to die."

"Oh. That. Will you quit obsessing over how old you are, Alec? Do you really think Yetunde cares that you're probably going to die before she does? Yetunde lives in the moment. You're going to be around to be battered by her a long, long time Alec." Ed chuckled.

"Ed, that isn't what I meant. I had some chest pain, and some trouble breathing, and I ignored it for a while, and then I finally went to see Dr. Schroder, after you and Nathaniel left for Boston. I thought I just had heart trouble, something like that, but I didn't want to worry Yetunde, or you, so I asked Schroeder to keep quiet about it. Well, turns out I have lung cancer, and it spread. Schroeder thinks it spread to my brain, that's what he thinks because I've been having trouble seeing, and I'm getting pretty rough headaches. He wants to do tests but I'm not the kind of fellow to put off the inevitable, so I was hoping you'd assign me to Moonbase, and I could spend my final day there. Tell Yetunde I died in an alien attack. I don't want her watching me shrivel up and be a vegetable, and have to suffer along with me. You and I have known each other a long time, Ed. Don't deny me this final wish."

Ed had gone from shock and disbelief, to horror, to extreme anger, to denial and finally to outrage again.

"I can't let you sit back and die like this! Surely there are treatments you can-"

Alec shook his head slowly but decisively.

"ALEC." All of the years they'd been friends, all of the good and bad times they'd shared together, all of the arguments and disagreements, the threatened resignations, the worry when one or the other would get injured or fall ill, all of the playful teasing, the boyish insults, the loyalty, the respect, and yes, all of the love they'd quietly held for another over more than thirty years was in that one anguished word that Ed uttered, and Alec looked at the floor, and watched as tears dropped from his craggy features onto the floor. Several minutes passed. Ed's voice was so soft, when it finally broke the silence, Alec could hardly make out the words.

"I'll arrange it."

Alec raised his head. Ed Straker looked as if he'd aged a hundred years. Tears ran freely from his eyes.

"I'm sorry about this, Ed. I think we better get ourselves to the wake. Yetunde brought me out here, I think I want to be alone with her as much as possible before it happens. Claire's going to drive you, she'll be downstairs, waiting. By the way, you know where my will is."

"Yes, yes, I know where it is. I need some time to myself. I'll join you all in a few minutes."

Alec Freeman hunched his shoulders, took a deep breath, and went out. Ed Straker got up and went into the bathroom and locked the door. He ran cold tap water, and bathed his face in it, and then picked up a towel and dabbed at his eyes with it. He suddenly stopped, and examined his face in the mirror. It looked back at him.

It was the face of a man who just had had his guts ripped out and handed back to him.

Ed started retching, and he threw up into the basin, and when his stomach settled down, he ran the tap again, and he watched the water swirl around, and he started to sob so hard that he feared he would give in to insanity right there and then. He turned the tap off, and he sat forlornly on the edge of the toilet seat, looking around. Maybe if he looked at the right thing at the right time, then this awful thing would not take place. He could not let this awful thing take place. Alec Freeman wasn't supposed to die. Things like that didn't happen. Couldn't happen.

A small glass crystal adorned the windowsill in the bathroom. It was a gift from Frances, and it acted like a prism, picking up what light remained in the November evening. Ed picked it up, and looked at it for a second, and then he flung it down, not wanting to look at anything beautiful, and it smashed into a hundred thousand million pieces, like his heart, he thought. Exactly like his heart. He stared at one piece of the crystal, not quite as small as the other shards. His reflection, askew, was in it. He bent and lifted it up, and looked at it. Looked at it, stared at it, looked through it. A thought hit him.

Like an arrow he shot up, and he shoved the shard into a pajama pocket, unlocked the door and went out, purposefully. He had a goal to accomplish before he went to that wake tonight.

About thirty minutes later, he got into Claire Spencer's car.

"Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. Alec was just a little worried about the situation with Henderson."

"I got a little worried, waiting for you like that, Edward." He's lying, Claire thought. But about what?

Ed smiled at her.

"Believe me, there's nothing to worry about now other than showing up late."

"Edward, if something was troubling you, you'd come to me, wouldn't you? Friends help one another, Edward."

"Friends don't show up at wakes late. Can we go now?"

Claire sighed, but she started the car.

Much later, when the last guest had gone through the door, Ed and Claire stayed behind in Alec and Yetunde's house, and Ed watched Alec make several double bourbons disappear.

"Ah ah ah. The place is a mess. I think that Eric and Ryan would have approved, though. I also think I will take the very drunk father of my child to bed and let him sleep it off."

Alec raised the bourbon glass.

"I'm not in the least drunk," Alec said.

"Alec, you are as-"

"Yetunde, he isn't in the least drunk." Ed smiled. "I think some coffee might do him good."

"I'll start the coffeemaker."

"No, actually what I had in mind is for you two to go and buy us some coffees and bring them back. You two ladies need some girl talk. I want some time alone with Mr. Not-in-the-least drunk here."

Yetunde and Claire looked at one another.

"Go on, go on. I'll look after him." Ed smiled. They shrugged and within a few minutes they were gone. Ed got up and took off Alec's boots after much pulling and yanking, removed the Australian's jacket and arranged him on the couch. He pulled Alec's mock turtleneck sweater off, followed by his t-shirt.

"Ed?"

"Yes, Alec?" Ed replied breezily.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Taking off your shirt."

"I figured out that part. WHY?"

Ed stood up and vanished into the bathroom a moment and then came out, and he sat next to Alec, his hands in his pockets.

"You're acting very strange."

"Alec, do you know the real reason I joined the Air Force and became a colonel?"

"I have the feeling you're about to tell me," Alec growled, growing impatient.

"Because I would have made a lousy nurse."

With that statement, Ed Straker took a hypodermic needle half full of yellow fluid out of a pocket. And he jabbed it into Alec Freeman's arm, causing Alec to shriek and try and get away, but not before Ed pushed the plunger all the way down, forcing the contents into Alec's bloodstream.

"I'm afraid I'm fresh out of lollypops. That's not all I'm fresh out of, Alec. That was the last of the cultured bacteria. So it better work, because there isn't any more."

"Are you fucking nuts? Have you lost your damn mind? What the blazes have you DONE?"

"Gosh, Alec, if memory serves me, you were pretty gung ho about filling me full of that stuff when I was sick. You don't seem to be handling this too well, " Ed observed, amused and terrified at the same time.

"HELP!" Alec yelled. Ed looked at him.

"Okay, now I'm convinced. You aren't handling this well at all."

"You don't know what that stuff will do to me! Where the hell is that damn Peter Evers when someone actually needs him? HELP!" yelled Alec again.

"I gave him the night off. I figured he deserved it, since Shado wasn't overrun by Bill Gates. How do you feel?"

"You IDIOT! Did it ever occur to you that this stuff might not affect me the way it affected you?"

"The thought had crossed my mind. I didn't like the alternative. Now settle down. Yetunde and Claire won't buy that line I fed them for long. They'll be back soon. Knowing them as I do, they won't be pleased with me and may kill me before I get a chance to explain why I did what I did. Alec, you're hyperventilating. Breathe normally."

"Breathe NORMALLY? Breathe normally, he says? After he shoots bacteria from outer space into me that will probably kill me he tells me breathe normally?"

"Now you know how I felt," grinned Ed. "Now, how do you feel?"

"SCARED. That's how I feel. I'm going to fucking kill you if I fucking live through this."

"Tsk tsk tsk. I hope you don't intend to talk like that in front of Ayomide. Besides, it's a court martial offense to kill a fellow officer. And it would hurt me." Ed said, studying Alec.

"Tell me why the hell I have put up with your bloody minded, righteous, arrogant, guilt-ridden, Bostonian non-drinking ways all this time!"

"Gosh, I don't know. Because you think I have pretty blue eyes?"

Alec looked at Ed and grinned in spite of himself. Ed picked up a quilt and covered Alec with it, and then he placed two fingers on Alec's neck and looked at the second hand of his wristwatch.

"You're right, you know, you worthless bastard. You do make a lousy nurse."

"Foul mouth, but strong and slightly rapid pulse, the latter due to fear and the former due to lack of a good Christian upbringing." Ed intoned, checking the wristwatch. "You know, Alec, if you had thought of this sooner it would have spared the two of us a lot of grief. "

"I never even considered it. Besides, you're talking like I'm going to be okay. That stuff is going to kill me."

"At first, yes. I'll be kind and not let you wake up in cold storage in a body bag. Believe me, it really ruins a person's day."

"Ed, the stuff might just REALLY kill me."

"It won't. It will cure you, and make you look a hell of a lot better in the process."

"Jesus Christ! I forgot about that age reversal thing."

The door opened and Claire and Yetunde came in. Ed took his hand off Alec's throat.

"What's really going on here?" Yetunde demanded.

"Sit down, both of you." He waited until they did. "Dr. Shroeder examin-" Ed began, but suddenly Alec Freeman's eyes rolled back in his head, his tongue lolled out and he went into a seizure. Yetunde screamed and Claire somehow had the presence of mind to come and help Ed hold Alec down.

"Yetunde, you've known Edward a lot longer than even I have. If Edward didn't believe there was a chance it would save Alec, do you think he would have done it?"

"He should have come and told me! He didn't have any right to make choices for my husband!"

"Husband?" Claire smiled faintly. Yetunde burst into sobs again.

"Why could I not let Alec have what he wanted? We could have been married. At least I would be his widow. Why did I have to be so selfish? Now he is dead, and there is nothing I have left of him but his daughter. I do not even bear his name. What good are the Gods, when they can unleash such horror? Why could Alec not come to me for help? I would not let him smoke around me and I certainly did not let him smoke around me when I found out I carried Ayomide, and I told him he should have quit, that this was a good time to quit, like Edward did years ago. Why did he have to care so little for his life? He said he loved me! Is that the way a man shows love for a woman? Now he is dead. Didn't he know that I didn't care about him fearing he would not be strong? Who is he to try and spare me suffering? Is that not my right? The baby will be born soon, and I can cope! I am not a weak woman! I am not a weak-" Yetunde broke down sobbing again.

"Oh my poor little thing. Yetunde, listen, listen to Claire. If Edward thought that new bacterial drug would help Alec, then we must support him and help him through this. Alec trusted him, you know that." Frances Brisby cradled Yetunde as if she was a young girl, and Claire thought that right now, with Alec Freeman dead, it was close to the truth. They had told Frances a version of the truth, Claire had reasoned it was much better to have them involved despite the risk of security. Angel was with Edward. Edward was suffering, and it occurred to Claire that perhaps Edward was suffering the most.

Alec Freeman had been dead for just over a week.

It didn't work, Claire thought. At least Alec isn't suffering. Ed knows sooner or later he'll have to turn the body over for burial. What will that do to him? It won't matter to him that he sacrificed the last sample of bacteria, bacteria that might have saved his life again someday, and instead he made a desperate effort to save Alec. All Edward will see is failure. Yetunde is so full of grief that even she doesn't understand why Edward did it. I'm telling Yetunde that everything will be all right, when I don't believe it. Even Edward was horrified when Alec had the seizures and died before we even could get him to Mayland. He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows he's lost.

"No! No! I want Alec buried. I want Alec buried now. I'm not standing for this any longer. My child has a right to see where her father is buried."

"Yetunde, you know Edward came back from life. You saw it with your own eyes." Claire said angrily. Frances gasped.

"Child, that just isn't possible. That is only for the grace of God-"

"Frances, it happened. It's what Edward thought would happen if he gave him the bacteria. Edward expected Alec to have a series of convulsions that eventually would turn back the aging process, and then kill him, but when he came back to life, he'd be free of the cancer. "

"Claire, dear, only God can do that."

"All right, all right then for the sake of argument look at it this way. Maybe Edward didn't die, although he met all the clinical criteria for cessation of life. Maybe the bacteria did that. I don't care at this point. You saw Edward. Edward is fifty-three years old. He could pass for a youthful forty. The bacteria did that. It saved his life. It saved his life when he had that horrible head injury and we all thought he was brain impaired. Do you think anything we did turned him around? Don't you see that it's what Edward wanted for Alec?"

"Nine days! He has been dead nine days!" Yetunde lashed out. "Where is the miracle? I do not see Alec walking around, strong and youthful. I cannot stand it anymore. I am going to have Alec buried, and none of you are going to stop me, not even Edward. It's my right!"

"Yetunde, damn it, it could be working differently on Alec. Edward was affected by the bacteria on the UFO when he wasn't ill. Alec 's lung cancer metastasized to his brain. He was dyi-" Claire ignored the bewilderment on Frances' face at the term UFO. At this point what mattered was getting through to Yetunde. The grieving African woman stood up, towering over her.

"He is DEAD. And I am burying him."

"Edward won't let you!"

"Then I will go over his head."

"My God, Yetunde, are you willing to risk Alec Freeman coming to life eight feet under the earth, locked into a coffin? Are you really-" Claire said, knowing she was getting hysterical, but not giving a damn. Edward Straker day after day had sat in that body storage area, hardly eating and drinking, wearing protective clothes, waiting for his friend to show signs of life. She had stayed with him until he convinced her that she had to look after Yetunde, that the stress might throw Yetunde into premature labor, and that he couldn't be responsible for the death of father and child. She had kissed him, and gotten Angel to take her place. So the two men had continued their macabre watch, day after day after day. Claire watched Yetunde stomp off, and she and Frances hurried after her. Dear God, what will this do to Edward? Doesn't anyone give a damn about what this is doing to Edward?

Yetunde yelled at Nathaniel, and Nathaniel gulped and looked at Claire. Claire sighed. His shoulders drooped and he stood aside. Yetunde opened the door.

No body.

No Anglican Right Reverend Stanley Brisby.

And no Edward Straker.

Yetunde gave an angry shriek. Claire closed her eyes.

"Oh dear," Frances said.

"Oh shit shit shit," Nathaniel said.

"All right, Nate. Go over it again."

"Man, but I told you. The Commander came out. He said he was going to get some coffee for him and Angel, and so I figured, cool. He came back in a while and he gave me a sandwich and a coffee, and I told him I knew Alec was gonna be okay, and not to let anyone else convince him otherwise. And so he smiled, patted me on the back and went in. I kinda passed out or something cause he came out, and I was worried, man, and he said not to worry about it, that I'd been there so long, and I hadn't been eating, that I'd insisted on not letting Pete relieve me, cause I knew Pete drove everyone nuts. Then he said that explained me fainting, and he went in. A little while later he came back out and said he'd be right back. I was waiting on him when you all showed up. So I didn't think anything of it. I mean, I trust the Commander. Least I used to! He drugged me! Damn!"

Claire chuckled.

"Edward must have predicted that Yetunde would do exactly what she did. What I can't understand is how he convinced a man of the cloth to help him steal a corpse off the Mayland premises."

"I do. He and Angel are tight, man. Besides, he's the Commander. He can do anything."

"Ed son, you do understand that I'm not looking forward to preaching in gaol when they catch us, you understand that, right?"

"I'm amazed at you, Angel. Don't you have a spirit of adventure? Besides, didn't Christ Himself preach to the undertrodden?" Ed Straker knew it was only a matter of time before Mayland Hospital realised they were minus one ambulance. Ed had even used the siren, it had been extremely helpful in the escape. He'd been driving for a long while, and he was finally a few miles from Glastonbury. A brief stop at a hardware shop had, after putting a dent in his credit card, netted him two shovels. He wondered just how fast they'd think to check if he'd used it. Not long, knowing his people.

I would have liked having you on my side, Claire, but I didn't quite see you tossing ethics aside for this little caper. Besides, I could tell you didn't believe that the bacteria was going to work this time.

I'm a man who believes in using every weapon available to me in a fight, Claire. Besides, I now know why Professor Samuel gave me that map. Finally, I'm going to use it. It's all I have left, Claire. Because I know I can't allow Alec Freeman to stay dead.

"My spirit of adventure is more suited to playing Doom on the computer."

"Angel! Frances lets you play Doom on the computer? A quiet, peaceful, anti-gun, anti-fox hunting, good Christian man like you blows away bad guys in a violent game like that?"

"I didn't say I told her I played it. Besides, I'd like to see you better my score. Besides, I like it. A soldier once, a soldier forever. Oh. I keep forgetting you're a marksman. Never mind. I've had as much humiliation as I can handle for a lifetime, I don't want to be beaten by the likes of you."

"Coward."

"Now that's an unfair accusation, Ed, son. After all, I volunteered to help you steal poor Alec back there, didn't I?"

"I hope all the ice I packed my Australian friend's body in doesn't melt anytime soon," Ed said nervously.

"You still haven't told me what all this is about, and I know you don't expect me to bury Alec, so what about letting your old superior officer in to what you're planning?"

"I trust you're familiar with the Holy Grail, Angel?"

"The Holy Grail is supposed to be the cup from which Christ drank at the Last Supper and the one used by Joseph of Arimathea to catch his blood as he hung on the cross. A most peculiar subject, although it wouldn't surprise me if you were fond of Arthurian legend, and thus the quest for it. Why, Ed son?"

"Would you say a cup that once was reputed to hold Christ's blood would be a cup of great power?"

"What are you getting at? If I didn't know you better, I would believe that you have truly lost your mind, stealing your friend's body from a hospital like this, and then telling me a story beyond belief, that you expected Alec to rise from the dead because you'd given him an injection of bacteria. I'd think you were quite mad, but then you're Edward Straker, and I know you're the most sane man in all of England. Plus, Ed son, I'm in the faith business. Now, you're driving me insane with curiosity! What is this all about?"

"Angel, the Holy Grail is reported to be in several countries. Italy. Russia. Scotland. Iran. Wales. Most predominately, right here in England. Right at the The Tor at Glastonbury. Which happens to be our destination. A professor named Samuel Enos devoted his life to mythology and ritual and legend, and he sought the Grail. I ran into him on the Concorde, and Nathaniel and I spoke to him briefly. We were discussing people's reluctance to fly after the 11 September attacks."

"God rest their souls. Go on," Angel said eagerly.

"Professor Enos was dying, and so I conjecture he knew he would not have time to go back to the site where he believed it to be. He gave me what turned out to be a map of Glastonbury Abbey. I think somehow he instinctively saw in me someone who could be entrusted with it, someone who wouldn't abuse the knowledge in any way. The map shows an exact location, Angel. You and I are about to do our own Quest for the Holy Grail. I intend to use it to save Alec. After that, I'll turn it over to you, and you can --Angel, don't pass out on me." Ed chuckled, watching the elderly reverend turn white. "You okay? Good. You can turn it over to the Archbishop. You can have all the glory, and you can tell him the Professor gave it to you. All I want is to save Alec's life, restore him to health."

"God be praised! For this I would eagerly risk gaol, Edward!"

"Might as well mentally draft what you're going to say to the press. You're about to go down in the historic annals of your Church as the right reverend who found the Grail. They'll probably turn that St. Stephens of yours into a cathedral. Try not to let it swell your head too much. And, Angel? Pray. Because this has to work."

"I have always known God had great things in mind for you, Ed son. I'm proud, proud to know you. Proud."

"You might want to wait to see if I actually pull this thing off," Ed Straker said evenly.

Claire sighed. Not only had Ed Straker's best friend died, not only had Ed then stolen Alec's body, and, if the evidence was right, a Mayland Hospital ambulance, now the damn beverage machine in the doctor's lounge had stolen her change without giving her the grape soda. She kicked the machine, ignoring the startled look an intern walking by gave her. She kicked it again, and lo and behold, two bottles of grape soda popped out. I'm losing my mind, Claire thought. I'm concerned about being cheated out of my favourite soda. I've flushed Shado security down the toilet by telling Frances Brisby what Edward really does. Her mouth is probably still open. Nathaniel still can't believe that Ed drugged him, but Ed drugged him all right, that coffee cup of Nate's had traces of choral hydrate in it. So did poor Nate's blood. We had to sedate Yetunde, she was so upset. Nobody knows where General Henderson is, and that isn't good, I just know he's going to use all this against Edward. Oh Ryan, if you were with me, I could think of what to do. Am I the only one that doesn't think Edward's lost his mind? What if he has lost his mind? Goddamn it, you're supposed to love the man, how can you possibly even let yourself think that? He's Edward Straker for God's sake! And he needs you. But what if it all was just too much? Being locked up in that morgue like that when he's claustrophobic, s