Goodbyes

Peter was slouched down in his car, checking the mirrors, side and rear, and watching the door where Franks and his lady friend had disappeared. He wished he had been able to get a picture of her; he was sure it would have been helpful. One or two of the cars from the building where he was parked had left; none of them carried Franks or his consort.

Suddenly, a black Mercedes came along and parked directly in front of the door to the building Peter was watching. It was at an angle where he couldn't see the license plate, but a big muscular man left the passenger side of the front seat. Peter recognized the signs of a shoulder holster beneath the designer suit coat, and he watched keenly as the man, definitely a native of the island, stopped at the rear door of the car. He seemed to be getting instructions, but Peter could see nothing through the tinted, reflective windows. At long last, he used a key to gain entry and went inside. "This is gettin' interestin'," the IR agent muttered to himself and he added the arrival of the strangers to a running account in his PDA and uploaded it for Lady Penelope's perusal.

Inside, Franks started suddenly and turned toward the door. "Someone's coming," he hissed to Liv.

"Be prepared to take him, but don't kill him. He's probably just making sure the place is safe for his boss," Liv whispered.

Franks nodded. She stood where the door's opening would conceal her for a few brief minutes, while Franks took up a position flattened against the wall, where grabbing and using his gun would easiest. He could hear the footsteps coming slowly down the hall, and the doorknob being tried ever so quietly. Liv had locked it again, so anyone who did a check, as this man was doing, would find all as it should be. He heard the key card being slipped into the slot, then the knob was turned again slowly, followed by the door, which was pushed open from outside in the hall. The first part that entered the room was a hand, holding a gun, then one foot stepped cautiously over the threshold and the arm began to follow. That's when Franks made his move. His strong hand clamped down on the exposed wrist and yanked, hard. The intruder stumbled into the room, and before he could react, Franks's gun was held to his head at the temple.

"Nicely done, luv," Liv said quietly. "Now, you keep him still, and I'll... frisk him."

Liv was thorough, perhaps a bit too thorough for the liking of their victim, but when she was done, she had found a second gun strapped to the man's calf, a throwing knife between the man's shoulders, and a satellite phone in his pocket. "Is that all?" she asked sarcastically. "Usually you bodyguard types are better armed. Well, now that we've defanged you, you might as well call your boss and tell him the coast is clear." She handed him back the phone. "Go ahead. We're waiting."

"Oh, and I speak the local lingo, too," Franks added. "So a word out of place and I'll have target practice."

The bodyguard leveled a killing glare at both of them, but he did as he was bid. A few minutes later, a fit, well-dressed man, the black hair on his head brushed back from his receding hairline, came into the room, preceded by another huge assistant. His eyes narrowed as he saw the scene before him.

"I see I am anticipated," he said acerbically, just the hint of a South American accent coloring his words. He motioned to his disgraced bodyguard and spoke to him sharply. The man left the gathering, still looking daggers at Franks and Liv.

Liv motioned to the other guard. "He goes, too. I know you're probably armed yourself, those weapons will have to suffice. We will negotiate only with you."

The man hesitated, then nodded to the other guard, who left slowly, keeping his eyes on the three as he departed.

Liv smiled her sly smile and motioned for the sharply dressed man to take a seat before the laptop computer. She sat gracefully in the other chair. Franks watched intently as she pressed a spot over the disk drive, a place that should not have had any type of switch. There was a muffled clatter, then the drive opened and there sat the disk. She pulled it out and said, still smiling, "Let's negotiate."

Jeff blinked. Then frowned. "What do you mean you 'can't'?" he asked, puzzled and irritated. "You'd be safer there than just about anywhere else I can think of."

Lou turned from him slightly, folding her left arm over her sling, hugging herself. "Jeff, if Franks finds out he's been had, he will come after me. Not because of what I know, but because I dared to deceive him. And if he does, your island won't be big enough to hide me. After all, it is a matter of record that you own the place. I've got to disappear as completely as possible. Leave Lucinda Myles behind and become someone else." She turned back to him, spreading her good hand, palm up. "Besides, what would I do there? Work on my tan? Exchange caustic comments with your mother?" Shaking her head, she continued, "And how long would I be there? How long will it take to get this 'under control'? What do I with my cats, my things in the meantime? Yeah, I could put the stuff in storage, but not the cats. I can't leave them behind without knowing how long I'd be away, not even in Jadzia's capable hands." She reached out and put that hand on his folded arms. "Can you understand?"

"No, I can't," Jeff retorted. "I can't understand how you could be safer somewhere out there on your own without... without anyone to protect you."

"Jeff, I've lived without anyone to protect me for a long time now," Lou said softly. "My friends look out for me, but ultimately, the responsibility to stay safe falls on my shoulders." She paused. "Besides, for me to go out to your island will direct Franks's attention to it. And I don't want him anywhere near it. He's not stupid. He'd put it all together and realize that your island would be the perfect place for IR to have their secret base. And he'd stop at nothing to find out if he was right."

"We can handle that, should it come," he came back. "We've fooled the World authorities more than once. We can fool Franks."

She shook her head. "I don't want to take even the slightest chance of it, Jeff. Besides, you haven't answered my questions."

"Lou, we'd find something for you to do! My mother? She'd have to put up with it; it's my home, after all, and I'll have who I please there! Your cats? We can bring them, can't we?" He threw his hands up in the air. "Hell's bells, woman! Why are you so damn stubborn?"

She looked at the ground and her shoulders began to shake. He thought for one horrified moment that she was crying, but as he put his hands on her upper arms, she turned her face to him and he realized she was laughing.

"What's so funny?" he asked, still irritated.

"I made a similar comment to Mrs. Soo about you."

"And?"

She smiled, still chuckling, and said, "She said it was one of your endearing qualities."

Jeff passed his hand over his eyes, and shook his head. "She would." Glancing down at her, he raised a rueful eyebrow. "I suppose it's one of yours, too?"

"You tell me."

He snorted a laugh, and said, "I guess it is." He stepped toward her and put his hand to her face again. "Lou, I'm just concerned. I... I don't want to lose this... friendship we've rekindled."

"Neither do I, Jeff," she responded, putting her good hand over his. "And we won't. My... masquerade will only be until we get this 'under control'. And I'll keep in touch. When I get to where I'm going to be, and get my computer set up, my second email will be to you, telling you where I am. I think you can keep a secret."

"Second?"

"Well, I will have to get word to Shelly, though not directly. I have a plan for that."

"How are you going to... disappear?"

She lowered her eyes and when she raised them again, she had a mischievous twinkle in them. "I have friends in... low places. People who can build me a new identity and I have other friends who can give me a new look. I'll be seeing them in my travels. I've gone undercover enough times to know what it takes to maintain a cover."

Jeff's face became serious. "I still don't like it."

"It's my life, and my decision to make," Lou replied, her face and voice suddenly matching his. "But... if I do happen to get in a jam... can I call you?"

His eyes widened, and he replied with a slight smile, "Anytime. Day or night. In either time zone."

"Thanks." She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

He was prepared to return the salute when someone cleared their throat behind them. They turned to see Jadzia standing there, grinning, her hands on her hips. She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "If you two want any lunch, you'd better hurry in there before Fred eats it all." She shook her head, the golden beads on the ends of her loose braids clacking together. "That kid! I have no idea where he puts it all."

"Hollow leg," Jeff said sagely. "All my sons have them." He put an arm around Lou's shoulders and she put her free arm around his waist and together they went back down the hill.

"I want to see the merchandise first," the well-dressed man said curtly.

"Of course," Liv replied teasingly. She booted up her computer, then slipped the disk back into the machine. Accessing the disk and turning the screen toward him, she gestured and said, "Be my guest." With a hard look at her and one for Franks, who had moved in to look over his shoulder, he began to open the files one by one, scrolling through them quickly. He nodded often, making noises of satisfaction. When he was done, he removed the disk from the computer, but Liv snatched it from his hand... and leveled a gun at him. She stood, motioning for him to do the same and move away from the computer. "Hands up," she said, her teasing gone and her voice hard. He complied, his face darkening with rage.

"You know something?" she asked, as Franks moved back, unholstering his own gun. "My friend and I were thinking. This little disk, with all this information about International Rescue, would get us a much bigger price if we sold it to the highest bidder. A lot more money than you are willing to pay." She reached out to grab her laptop and began to shut it down, glancing down for only seconds at a time as she went through the shutdown process. Snapping it shut, she gazed coolly at the well-dressed man. "So, unless you have a better offer to make..."

"Go to hell!" her victim said through clenched teeth, seething at this new turn of events.

The woman smiled coldly and raised her weapon. "After you."

Suddenly, there was a dull thudding sound from the vicinity of Franks. The disk flew from Liv's fingers as she was slammed back against the wall, looking surprised for a moment before sliding to the floor, the hole in her forehead a poor indicator of the extensive damage to the back of her skull. Blood and brain matter covered the wall behind her, and her body slid over to lay at grotesque angle on the bare floor. The well-dressed man went pale, stunned at the carnage. He turned to find Franks grinning rapaciously at him as the blond man swung the murder weapon around and pointed it at him.

"Keep your hands where I can see them," the blond said in his odd, genderless voice. "Don't think for a minute that I'm doing you a favor, or that I'm your friend." He expertly frisked the man, removing a semi-automatic pistol from the shoulder holster under the well-tailored suit coat, and a knife from a sheath on his victim's forearm. He pocketed all the weapons, both those from the well-dressed man and his original bodyguard, then picked the disk up from the floor where it had fallen. He briefly glanced at Liv. "Sorry, doll, but your roots were showing." He turned to the nameless man. "Where's your transport?" he asked, sliding his shiny prize into the inner pocket of his jacket and slipping the laptop into its case, then slinging it over his shoulder

"Downstairs." The well-dressed man kept his hands up, moving quickly as the blond motioned for him to leave the room before him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Good," his captor replied, ignoring the question. "Put your hands down by your sides and walk normally. Don't try anything. You already know that I'm a crack shot."

Near the base of the stairs, Franks instructed his victim to pull out his phone. "Your second bodyguard. Call him in here. And if you warn him, I'll kill you where you stand."

His target placed the call. In a few moments, the second bodyguard, the one with the weapons, came inside. He didn't have time to reach for his weapon before Franks, grinning, shot him between the eyes with his silenced gun. The well-dressed man paled again, but did not show any other emotion.

"Let's go," Franks said, his grin turning into a grim smile. They opened the door from the inside and stepped out into the sunshine. "Get in. Tell your driver that you're taking me to your employer."

"How do you know...?"

"How I know doesn't matter. I have my sources and I know you're nothing but a go-between for a much bigger fish. Now do as I say," the blond hissed.

The well-dressed man climbed into the waiting Mercedes and the blond climbed in after him, carrying the laptop over one shoulder. His presence was explained exactly as the killer had instructed. The driver scowled, but did as the well-dressed man ordered. A privacy panel slid up between Franks and his captive and the front seat, and the luxury car pulled away.

Peter, hunkered down so he could not be seen, watched the men from the black car go in and come out. As this latest exchange took place and he recognized his prey, he entered the information into his PDA, uploaded it and prepared to follow the Mercedes. But something at the door of the building made him pause. A dark liquid was oozing out from under the tinted front door. "I hope that isn't what I think it is," he murmured to himself. He looked in his rear view mirror at the Mercedes, poised to leave the area, then back at the door, and sighed. The boss would not be happy if someone died because I didn't investigate. He took one more look at the luxury automobile as it left, noticing something strange about the license plate, then he pulled a pair of gloves and his satellite phone from under the front passenger seat, slid his PDA into a rear pocket, put on his cabby's hat and sunglasses, then went to investigate.

In the back of the Mercedes, the well-dressed man repeated his question, "Why are you doing this?"

The blond sat back, a smug, sly smile on his face. "I'm curious. Very curious. I want to know what kind of man or woman ordered the hit on Lucinda Myles when Jefferson Tracy was under her roof. It takes balls to bell the cat woman in her own den, and right under the nose of one of the richest and most powerful men on the planet. Whoever you are running errands for must think that he or she is pretty much untouchable, safe from even an angry Jeff Tracy. And I want to know who wants so much data on those poor, inoffensive saps, International Rescue, that they're willing to kill for it. Besides, the bitch was right. The disk will fetch a much better offer on the black market, but I thought I'd honor our bargain to an extent and give your boss first right of refusal." He smiled wider. "And now I won't even have to share it with my whore, either."

To his surprise, his captive snorted a derisive laugh. "You are a piece of work, Franks. You really are."

"So, you know my name. Goody for you," Jim Franks sneered. "I know yours, too:Fernando Rafael Ramirez. Last known as secretary to his Excellency,Carlos Esteban Alvarez, Minister of Security for the World Government. Before your elevation to such an exalted post, you were his Excellency's right hand man in Columbia." Franks sat back, his gun still pointed at Ramirez. "Now, will you satisfy my curiosity now, or do I have to wait for an audience with his Excellency?"

"Oh, an audience, by all means, Mr. Franks," Ramirez said, his confidence returning. He gazed at Franks thoughtfully. "Though I have to wonder which you are more curious about: International Rescue, Jefferson Tracy... or Lucinda Myles."

"I have always had a proprietary interest in the cat woman," Franks stated coolly. "However, right now I'm more curious to know who would go to such lengths to get this little trinket." He patted his jacket where the disk resided.

Ramirez sat back and crossed his legs at the knee. "Well, Mr. Franks, you will not have long to wait."

Franks grunted, then smiled slightly. "I hope you have a clean up crew that can take care of what I left behind at our rendezvous. Don't want the police making any... unfortunate connections."

His captive sat up as if stung and fumbled in a coat pocket for his satellite phone. Franks raised his gun a trifle higher. "Put the phone away, Ramirez. You can call when we get to our destination.. I don't want you warning anyone of my impending arrival."

He sat back again, watching his captive. He smiled as the secretary began to fidget and sweat over the possible discovery of the gruesome sight in the empty building.

Peter flipped open the cover of his PDA. From a special fabric envelope he pulled a keycard. But not just any keycard. This was one given to him by Brains, developed from a device that "Nosey" Parker had once showed him. It had a variable magnetic strip, one that adapted itself to whatever lock it was inserted into. It had seen heavy use in the service of IR, and Peter said a little prayer as he slipped it into the lock. After a second or two of concern, he heard the lock click and he pulled open the front door, careful not to step in the dark red, metallic smelling liquid that seeped out from under the door. "Sweet Mary, Mother of God!" Peter exclaimed in a shocked whisper as he was confronted with the bodyguard's corpse. He closed the door again, putting himself on the outside, and emailed his superior for instructions. Those orders, when they came, were succinct: "Call the police." Peter sighed, pulled out his phone and obeyed.

Lunch was long over, and evening had descended on Asheville. Jeff's plans to leave that afternoon were forgotten as he got another report from Penelope, one indicating that Franks had slipped away, but they would pick up his trail again soon. Lou's belongings were packed in the moving van, and the cats were sleeping, sedated, in the back seat of Lou's truck. Reynaldo had gone home after lunch, citing family commitments. But before he did he drew a pencil caricature of Lou for Jeff and signed it, presenting it with a flourish. "Something to remember her by," he said.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it," Jeff replied softly. "Not that I could ever forget... again."

Shelly and Rachel took a tearful farewell of Lou in mid-afternoon. "Now, you promise you'll tell me when you get to your destination safely," Shelly said tearfully. "I know what it is you're going to do but you still have family and I refuse to let you cut yourself off entirely."

"I'll have a post office box set up, Shelly, one that will redirect my mail. Same thing for emails. The messages will be delayed, but we'll keep in touch. I know all the tricks. But we have to be discreet, hon. And you'll have to keep your eyes open for him. You and your kids, too," Lou warned. "You might have to pull up stakes yourselves, you know."

"I know," Shelly said sadly. "I'll do my best to be discreet. But I will miss you!" She reached out to pull Lou into a tight embrace.

"I'll miss you, too, big sister. I love you," Lou whispered, tears spilling down her bruised cheeks. It was a long time before the sisters could part, then Rachel and Lou embraced.

"Take good care of your mom," Lou instructed Rachel.

"I will," Rachel assured her aunt. Then they were gone.

Jadzia, Carolyn, and Fred said their goodbyes, as did the inn owners, and the other neighbors on the gravel road. Joze and Jack were to drive the first lap of the journey with Lou, Jack driving the big van and Joze at the wheel of Lou's truck.

Finally, it came down to Jeff and Lou.

"I don't know what to say, Lou," Jeff said softly. "It's been less than a week and I feel... so... connected. Even more so than when we knew each other before. Being here with you has refreshed me in so many ways." He looked down. "I still wish you would come with me..."

She put a finger on his lips. "Now, don't start that argument all over again, Jefferson Tracy. I will be okay. We will see each other again, of that I'm sure. I have a funny feeling that karma's not through with us yet. And I feel safer knowing that I have a refuge... and a friend... to run to if I need him."

"Just keep Oscar close, please?"

She smiled. "I will, I promise. And you look for Marvin."

He stopped for a moment, puzzled. "Marvin... Marvin?" Then he understood and his face lit up. "Oh, yeah. Marvin. I will."

Jeff took her in his arms and she laid her head on his shoulder, wrapping her free arm around his back. They looked up at each other, and softly, without thought, their lips met for a brief kiss. Then he squeezed her tightly, and she did the same to him, or as much as she could with one hand. They parted, and they walked to the truck together, his hand on her back. He opened the door for her. Joze was already inside, waiting. Jeff pulled Lou's seat belt out for her and helped her fasten it. Just before he closed the door, he looked into the back seat and saw Spot's sedated head pressed to the mesh entry of her container, and stuck a finger in to give the sleeping cat a little scratch. "Bye, Spot. See you again sometime." Then he looked up at Lou. "Bye... Luci. I'll be looking for Marvin."

Lou nodded, and he closed the door. The ungainly moving van lurched out of the drive, and headed slowly down the gravel road. Her truck followed, and Jeff joined the little group who were waving as the vehicles until they were out of sight. He sighed.

The inn owners looked back at him as they started back to their business. "Coming, Mr. Tracy?" He nodded and, hands in his pockets, he sauntered slowly to the inn and a restless night's sleep.