"You're almost fourty years of age, MacKellar," he muttered to himself, gripping the controls, "not some green teenager.  Get a hold of yourself and start acting it.  It'll be all right, she'll be fine.  You just have to -- visit her!  That's all.  That's what you want anyway, right?"

The Voice of Reason sounded vile, he decided, and shut up, feeling even worse.  This shouldn't be so hard, and it wouldn't if he hadn't let himself get so... involved.  Goddamnit, why couldn't she have been an overweight, myopic, thoroughly unlikable individual instead of...

He groaned.  You are a masochist, he told himself.  And you are a stupid fool for letting yourself get dragged in deeper.

He had no more time for self-recrimination, however, as his on-board computer-assist identified the house he wanted and bleeped at him to descend.  He glanced out of the window, seeing a rather sprawling property in relation to the smaller blocks surrounding it, with several large buildings, a natural pond with river feeding into it and the rest seeming bushland.  In the driveway/landing are there was something of a commotion going on, so he set his transport down well apart from it, locking the controls, waiting for the 5m descent and hopping out all in one automatic motion.  It was as his feet hit the ground and his eyes sought out Alex Bailey's lithe, dark haired form directing the unloading of a sedated horse from a large cargo-transport that the butterflies hit full force again.

"Damn, damn, damn," he muttered, and walked over, struggling to fix his smoothest smile in place.  As he got closer he noticed the tension in Alex herself, the lines of worry caused by drawn-together brows that hadn't been there only a few days ago.  She looked positively haggard.  And there was a large, purpling bruise coming up on her right cheek and jaw.  He wondered what the cause was -- or if her practice and home life were always this hard on her, and conventions were her only means of escape.  Perversely, he began to feel more in control of the situation.

"Prognosis, doctor?" he asked in his deep, quiet voice, and was rewarded with a start of surprise and a sudden smile as Alex swung around.  He noticed she was still wearing the shirt he'd bought her under her lab coat, and felt curiously gratified.

"Nicholas!  What are you doing here?"

"Bad timing?"

"Uherhh, no!  Just the opposite, in fact," she said, flustered.  "I...  ahh, Jeremi... no, doesn't matter... can you handle Miss Moneypenny?  OK.  Look, Nicholas, it's so good to see you," she said, coming over with hands outstretched.  "I just... you caught me by surprise, that's all. You're the last person I expected to see, and.. "  She stopped, at a loss for words.

"I don't believe it," he said into the gap, "I've made the voluble vet speechless."

"You'd be the one to do it," she agreed, smiling at the nickname he'd given her at the convention, and turned back to the problem at hand.  "Nicholas, your timing really is impeccable.  How would you like to exercise a little of that surgical talent you kept telling me about, eh?  I've got a pretty problem here.  I was just thinking I might have bitten off more than I could chew."

"Fractured pastern?" he asked, running a critical eye over the young filly as she was being levered onto an economy sized stretcher.

"That's one word for it," Alex said darkly, "'Pulverized' might be closer.  The owner called me out on Wednesday, and the horse was badly lame in the off-fore pastern then, but there was definitely no fracture.  I treated her as best I could and wanted to bring her in for x-rays but he wouldn't have any of it, the tight bastard.  It might have mended of its own accord, but this fracture was made worse by the already weakened condition of the bone."  She hesitated.  "We... mightn't be able to save her.  Want in?"

There was definite relief in having a professional problem to deal with.  Here, at least, he was sure of his ground.  "Absolutely!  Let's go."

Alex smiled wanly, and pressed his arm in gratitude.  "Nicholas, you are a diamond in the quartz of my life, you know that?"

"I know that," he smiled, "I'm glad you know it."

Alex snorted.  "You also haven't changed in two days.  Here, meet Jeremi.  Jeri!"

"The Nicholas?" Jeremi asked guilelessly when introduced.  "Nicholas-of-the-t-shirt?  Very pleased to meet you!  I thought you'd be taller... "

"Jeri!"

"Oops, sorry."

"Just... "

"I know, I know -- the horse.  See you in surgery," she winked to MacKellar, who nodded back, amused.

"Not one word," Alex growled at him, embarrassed, and stalked off to see to the horse.

It was a difficult operation, and one Alex more supervised than participated in given Jeremi's post-grad research into specific equine applications and MacKellar's expertise in bone problems, but she felt the familiar thrill of success as they put the final suture in the wound nonetheless, and it helped alleviate the tension she'd been feeling since The Fight.  She and MacKellar walked back to the house from her large animal surgery (a barn tastefully remodelled for the purpose) in a much lighter mood than she'd entered it, and she knew that the San Francisco vet was feeling the same lightheaded buzz of satisfaction.  He had a grin plastered from one silly ear to the other, transforming his usually serious expression into one of boyish enthusiasm.  Alex felt a sudden rush of affinity with him, almost gratitude that someone should share her emotion, understand it without having to have it explained.

"You'll be pleased to know," he was saying, "that you're the toast of the 11th International Veterinary Convention."  He pulled out a magazine from his pocket and had it snatched from his grasp instantly.  Alex flicked through it avidly, landing on a review of the conference by a noted vet who often wrote for the magazine, American Veterinary Journal.  "It says you are a brilliant speaker," he informed her, "... 'lively, witty, with thoroughly original and progressive ideas'.  His words, not mine," he said as she looked up to see if he was pulling her leg.  "Of course, I couldn't agree more.  Especially after watching you work today."

Alex found, to her consternation, that she was beginning to grow warm under his gaze.  She grimaced and thrust the magazine back at him with a grunt.  "The guy thinks anyone's 'brilliant & original'.  I doubt he's had an original thought in his entire life, and probably wouldn't know one if it had him by the throat.  Anyway, you showed a few smooth moves there yourself, Dr. MacKellar."  She grinned suddenly.  "And I don't mean just in my barn!  Come on inside, I'm dying of coffee withdrawal as usual."

Entering the house, Alex tripped headlong into the kitchen.  She barely had time to register the tripwire when an explosion seemed to detonate right in her ear and the sound of automatic gunfire ripped through the house.  With a strangled cry, MacKellar leaped forward and dragged Alex further into the room and out of the line of fire, but much to his surprise the vet leaped up and thundered,

"Ceeeeee Teeeeee!!!  Get out here NOW!!!"

"You weren't supposed to come in this way," a defensive voice said from the rafters, and MacKellar, his jaw sagging a little, looked up to find a heathen in jungle greens and camouflage paint crouching in the exposed beams above them.

"Get down her this instant, young woman."  There were depths of cold in that voice, and CT scurried to obey, standing embarrassed in front of her mother and this stranger, shifting from foot to foot, but defiant to the last.  "Explanation?"  Clearly, Alex didn't expect to hear one that would satisfy her.

"Well, what do you expect when you lock me up in here for weeks on end?  I need an outlet for my creative energies."

"This is the first day of your grounding, CT, and this is your home, not some Bolivian prison cell you have to break out of, do I make myself clear?"

"Dad would've appreciated it," she muttered.

"None of your cheek or that'll be 2 more weeks on KP -- with no payment."

"Aww, Mom... "

"Don't 'aw Mom' me!  Your father would give you 4 weeks, and you know full well he'd skin you alive for a stunt like that.  Damnit, CT, if he finds out you've taken live ammo from the gun range... "

"But Mom, it's part of my class project.  I'm redesigning Uncle Chris's new grenade launcher for machine shop.  And anyway," she went on sulkily, "it wasn't live, it was a blank.  I didn't want to hurt Dermott, just scare 'im a bit..."

Alex held up her hands.  "That's it!  I don't want to hear any more!  Your room, this instant.  GO!!!!!" she roared when the thirteen year old hesitated.

CT went.

MacKellar was standing to one side with a half-apologetic, half-incredulous look on his face.  "That was your daughter?"

Alex nodded, running a hand through her crop of salt and pepper hair, and re-entered the kitchen, where she proceeded to make coffee, clearing away the plastic explosive debris as she went.  "Yes, I guess you've just met CT -- Christine to no one but her teacher."  She saw the look on his face and smiled. "Sorry, didn't I tell you?"

"No," he said faintly.

Alex spooned two scoops of coffee into a cup, one into the other, then added a third scoop to her cup after a short consideration (she needed it).  "CT's the eldest -- I also have a son, David.  He's eleven this year.  He wants to be a scientist."

"You don't look old enough."

"Yes I do -- but thank you anyway."

Nicholas accepted the cup with a smile, which Alex returned as she moved into the lounge room to sit opposite him, curling her feet up, cat-like, in the large chair and fixing him with one of her disconcerting two-tone gazes.

"So," she said finally, "what brings you to my part of the world?  Apart from muscling in on my patients."

"Alex... "

"Joke," she laughed, "I really appreciated your help, and so did Jeremi."  She wiggled her eyebrows at him from behind her coffee.  "From the look she gave you I think she's going to want to corner you and pick your brains for this thesis of hers.  Among other things," she added slyly.

Nicholas grinned, suddenly impish.  "Then she'll have to wait in line.  I have a... prior involvement."

"I see," Alex played along, "and just what might that be?"

MacKellar's voice deepened as he leaned over and murmured, "I can only discuss that over dinner."

"Ahhh.  Now there's an offer I can't refuse," Alex said softly, holding his gaze. She took a deep breath then sighed.  "But I'll have to this time.  The convention was one thing, Nicholas. Here I have... responsibilities."

"I understand.  Can't blame me for trying.  Maybe... another time?"

"Maybe," she agreed, a note of wistfulness entering her voice.

MacKellar was about to excuse himself when the door to the lounge room opened to admit a white-faced David Tyler and behind him two men with guns.  Before she could even make a move, the man holding David by the shoulder pressed the gun to his neck and said in a shockingly normal voice,

"Please don't, Dr. Bailey.  Sit down... you two... thank you."

He moved further into the room, nodding to his partner to check the rest of the house.  Alex felt her heart ice over and she said tightly,

"What do you want?  If it's money, there's my surgery next door...  Please... "

"Sit down!"

Alex sank back into the chair, making contact with her son's eyes which were naturally frightened but rational.  She tried to smile reassurance to him but it came out rather sickly she thought.

"How did you get in here?  My dogs... the animals... "

"... are easily controlled, Doctor.  If you have the means and the desire.  Please be quiet until my associate returns."  He smiled thinly.  "Unnecessary noise disturbs me."

He was a snappy dresser, that was for sure, Alex thought grimly, and if she ever got the chance she'd redesign that 3 piece suit into 300 or so, and let CT help.  CT!  She gasped as the second man came back down the hall, dragging the limp body of her daughter behind him.

"Put up a fight," he shrugged in reply to the first's raised eyebrows.  So he was taken totally by surprise as CT, a master dissembler, suddenly came alive and sank her teeth into the nearest fleshly bit.  The man howled in pain, and even before Alex could get to her feet David had struck his own assailant in the groin with a perfect closed fist.  It doubled him over with a grunt but when he still kept a grip on him, David knew he was in trouble.  His ju jitsu instructor had been very clear on that point: people, especially men, do not appreciate being hit in the groin, so if you do it, do it right the first time.  He tried to slip through the man's legs as he mother leapt to her feet and wrestled him for the gun.  He noticed that the stranger she'd been talking to was also on his feet and helping CT with her attacker, but quickly realized that they were no match for two obviously trained men, ju jitsu or no.  The stranger had taken a blow to the stomach and was on his knees as the gunman struggled with CT's far more capable attack, but David had no time to spare for them as he wriggled free of his assailant's grasp.

Suddenly the man let go and David fell backwards, yelling out as he brought down the pistol butt against the side of his mother's head with the full force of his two hands.

Alex dropped like a stone.  Nicholas yelled a hoarse "No!!" and scrambled across the floor to reach her while CT battled on against the two men now, wisely keeping out of their range when she could and landing any blow they allowed her.  There was an edge of desperation to her anger now as she wondered how long she could hold off two fully grown and pretty peeved men.

"Ceets, quick, in here!"

She hesitated, throwing her mother and the stranger a glance, then turned and fled into the kitchen where David hefted her father's Uzi at her.  He shrugged at her shocked look.

"It's all I could find, and you know he keeps it loaded.  Quick!"
 
 

With a shake of his head, he shoved the control lever into 'lock' and the anti-gravitic transport sank to the ground.

He saw, as he landed, two bulky suitcases outside the front door and his best leather jackets strewn across the lawn and ruined by the overnight reticulation.  Damn bitch!  He'd just see if he got thrown out of his own house!  Scowling, and gearing up for Round Two of The Big One, he flipped the door release and stepped out onto the landing porch.

The next 60 seconds were a panicked rush and tangle of events.  There was gunfire... an uzi ("Christ, she's killing the kids!!" was his first irrational thought) -- and CT screaming something.  He ran for the house -- more gunfire -- David yelling -- CT cursing -- a buzz and hum of a transport and a dark, unlit vehicle, licence plate concealed, loomed up from behind his house and disappeared into the darkness.  Tyler's pistol was in his hand as he threw himself against the door, bursting the lock and tumbling into the hall.

"CT?!"  He couldn't keep a note of panic from creeping into his voice.  "CT?  David??!!"

"Dad!!!"

He ran into the living room at her voice as she stumbled likewise towards him.  She was white-faced, clutching onto the uzi and starting to shake.

"Davie...  they got Davie," she was saying in a rush of building hysteria.  "They went through to the kitchen and he couldn't get away.  I tried to stop them... mom's hurt... I tried... I shot up your piano, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... "   Dissolving into uncontrollable sobs she dropped the machine gun and flung herself into her father's arms.

Ham gathered her up, whispering soothing words to her, and cast a glance around the wreckage of the room.  His piano -- his beautiful baby grand -- was smashed and splintered with a row of bullet-holes.  Never mind, he could always get another one.  What drew his attention was Alex, sprawled on the floor with blood trickling down her face.  A stranger was with her, keeping constant and frightened checks on her vital signs.

"Is she... ?"

"I've called an ambulance."  Sure enough, they could hear the distant sirens now, "I don't know... I just... oh, Jesus... she's breathing, but unconscious... I don't know... a blow on the head like that... " The man shook his head, obviously shaken and in a bad state.  Ham wanted to go to Alex, touch her... she was so pale, hardly breathing... but CT was still sobbing, quietly now, into his chest.  She was shivering uncontrollably.

"Who were they, CT?" he asked, gently as he could.  He shouldn't ask, not just yet, but there was no time.  Christ, they had Davie... he'd seem them, taking off to god knew where with his son.  He tried to remember what the transport looked like and could recall nothing except that it was dark-coloured, modern and unlit.

CT was shaking her head.  "I... don't know... " her voice hiccupped with emotion as she clung to him.

"How many?"

"T... two.  That I s... saw.  Th... the lizard hit mom..." She started to sob again, "I think the other one got Davie."

People in white poured through the front door and Ham drew his daughter aside to allow them access to Alex.  The stranger fussed nervously then stood back to let the experts work.  In moments she was in the ambulance and Ham was answering questions.  The stranger left, the police arrived and he answered more questions, but he could supply nothing of real value.  No, he didn't know who they were.  Did he have enemies?  Sure.  He'd lost count.  Nope, no-one he could pin this on.  David... brown hair, brown eyes, sensitive face, kind of serious... he'd tried to be more clinical about the description and found it hard, holding onto CT.  They let him go finally, and he bundled her up with a warm coat beside him in the transport.  He couldn't leave her at home and wouldn't leave her with anyone.  Poor kid, she was so frightened.  From the look of the house she'd accounted well for herself, and certainly put up a good fight... Jesus, what was he thinking??  She was just a kid, only 13 for Chrissake!  Alex was right -- he'd let her get wild, following in Daddy's footsteps and that was dangerous.

He glanced at the small, frightened girl beside him and reached out with his right arm to draw her into a hug.  CT burrowed into his side.

"I let 'em get Davie," she whispered.

"Nonsense, Squirt.  You did your best.  Looked like you did pretty good against two grown men.  They might have got all three of you, but they didn't.  You're a good girl," he kissed her forehead and hugged her.  "I'm proud of you."

"It seemed to be just what she needed to hear.  The tension in her young shoulders faded and in a few moments she fell into exhausted sleep.

When he reached the hospital he carried her inside to the waiting room.  He found the stranger there, pacing nervously, hands shifting from behind his back, to his pockets, to the back of his neck.

"Any word?" he asked, settling CT into a chair.  She murmured, woke and looked around, wrinkling her nose at the smells.

MacKellar, who hadn't heard them come in, glanced around into the face of a haggard-looking business man.  "No," he said.  "Not yet... "

The man held out a hand with a slight hesitation.  "Ham Tyler.  I... want to thank you for what you did for my wife."

MacKellar shook hands, surprised by the strength in his grip and the calluses on his palms, at odds with the business suit.  He didn't know what he'd expected of Alex Bailey's husband -- she hadn't spoken about him much -- but the man-in-the-flesh had... presence.  Not you average run-of-the-mill business man, that was for sure.  But then, what else should he have expected of Alex?

"Nicholas MacKellar," he said, holding Tyler's gaze before glancing over his shoulder to the small bundle of child.  "I think I've met CT," he smiled at her.  She nodded back but didn't smile.

Ham's eyes narrowed at the exchange.  "What were you doing at the house?"

"Visiting.  I met Alex at the conference last weekend."

"Oh."  That was all.  Short, cool, non-committal.  Nicholas glanced at the stockier man and swallowed nervously.  Tyler did not look like a man to mess with, and if he suspected...

Tyler turned abruptly away, his expression unreadable.  "CT, I gotta make a phone call.  You'll be okay?"  She nodded and gave a small, brave smile.  He returned it and went to find a vid-phone.

Chris was startled by the haggard face on the screen.  "What the hell's happened?"

"David's been kidnapped," Ham reported tersely.

"Jesus! Where are you?"

"Seattle General.  Alex got hurt -- she's still unconscious.  I want you to go to the house, see if you can find anything.  Their transport was out the back.  Don't disturb anything."

"I know that," Chris reprimanded his partner.  "Is CT okay?"

"Shaken up, but she's with me.  Wait for me at the house."

"Will do.  Don't worry Ham, we'll find him."

"Yeah."  Ham's voice was toneless.  "See ya."  He hung up and returned to the waiting room to find the doctor.  Identifying himself as the patient's husband he was finally filled in on the situation.  It wasn't good.  Leaving CT once more in Nicholas' care he went into her hospital room to see her.

He stopped at the side of her bed, his gut twisting at the sight of her.  Always so full of energy, she lay like death, translucently white.  There were bandages across her temple and forehead and a livid bruise on her face, legacy of yesterday's fight.  Tubes and monitoring equipment sprouted from her body and it made him feel ill.

Memory of their argument knotted him up inside.  Jesus, they'd hadn't seen each other for nearly a week and the first thing they do is trade punches.  It'd make a lousy epitaph if she...

The doctor said she was deeply unconscious, comatose.  The blow to the temple had been compounded when Alex had fallen and hit her forehead on the tiled floor of the lounge room.  The tiles were supposed to make it easier to clean the floor, what with all the animals around.  Carpet might have cushioned the fall.  He'd have it replaced as soon as possible.  It was assumed by the medical staff the facial bruise was another result of the attack.  Tyler winced inwardly at that.  He'd wanted to hurt her and had not pulled the blow one iota.  It was his final act, the last time he'd seen her, and now...

Ham shook his head, trying to divest himself of the depression, the guilt, but it hung on perversely.  Action, he decided, would be a better remedy.  He couldn't help Alex in any way by staying here, and he had to find David.  Brushing his fingers lightly across Alex's face, he turned and went back out to CT.

The girl was sitting up in the waiting room's sofa, obviously still shaken but taking an interest as MacKellar, sitting opposite her, talked quietly.  The smile rising to her lips now and then was shaky, but more the old CT.  He felt a slight stab of jealousy that this MacKellar should be anywhere near his daughter, let alone able to make her smile, and he wondered at the reaction, then shoved it down.  One thing at a time.

MacKellar rose as Tyler entered the room.  Tyler noted that the vet didn't come up to his height by a good couple of inches and had to meet his eyes with head slightly tilted.  Alex's height, he thought, then squashed the internal tremor accompanying it.

"I'll need to get in touch with you again," he told MacKellar without preamble, "Where can I find you?"

MacKellar, who hadn't really thought past the next few hours, shrugged.  "Here, I guess, for a while."

Tyler's expression, stony in the extreme, altered fractionally, then he nodded, gathering up his daughter, who had recovered enough to insist, "I can walk now, Dad."

"Later," he said by way of farewell, leaving MacKellar to stare after them, his goodbyes unspoken.  With a shrug, the small vet resumed his pacing.
 
 

He heard sounds in the kitchen and, with CT following, stepped through to see Jeremi and Julie keeping vigil.

"How is she?!" Jeremi leapt up from her chair, worry impressed on her normally cheerful features.

"Not good," he informed her as CT came past him and made a beeline for Chris, coming in through the back door, "She's in a coma."

"Goddamn," Chris cursed softly.

"Yeah," Ham agreed, and turned back to Jeremi, "Where were you when all this was going down?  I didn't see you."  His voice was sharp' he was ready to suspect anyone right now.

Jeremi arched an eyebrow at him at the implied accusation.  "I didn't hear anything until the gunshots," she said, "And Miss Moneypenny reacted so badly I had to stay and calm her. She'd only just come out of surgery."

"Miss...?"

"A horse," CT supplied helpfully, rapidly reclaiming her grip on the world and grabbing a Twinkie from the fridge.

"By the time I'd done all that and got inside, you'd gone and the cops were putting me through the Spanish Inquisition."  Her indignation subsided as she added:  "They said someone'd got David."

"Yeah, but they're not going to have him long," he promised with dark determination.  CT nodded, her expression a match for her father's, marred somewhat by the cake crumbs around her mouth.

"And what're you doing here," Tyler turned on Julie, "I thought I told you to stay at the hotel."

"I tried to phone you," she responded, uncowed by his harshness.  Her eyes were still red and puffy and her face was lined with weariness, but as always she coped, "Chris answered and told me what had happened.  I came right over... Ham, I'm so sorry... "

He dismissed her apology abruptly as he turned next to Chris.  "Anything?"

The big man shook his head slowly.  "Not a lot.  They landed out by the pool in the backyard.  I found two of your dogs flat out with tranquillizers in 'em nearby and the other four in trees further down.  Looks like they sent someone in first to quieten them down."

"Dermott's in the barn with them now," Jeri told him, as though he'd be concerned about the welfare of a few of Alex's patients.  Still, she was worried enough to forget to call Dermott 'Titus' for a change.  Tyler glared her into silence.

"I found plenty of shells from the uzi but nothing else, and no scorch marks so it looks like they didn't even get a shot off, which mean... "

"They definitely wanted David alive."  That, at least, was comforting.

"There were signs of struggle in CT's room..."

"Didn't want to let them take me without a fight, did I?"  She was shushed by Jeri.

"Then everything broke out in the lounge.  The place is a mess.  And your piano's a write-off.  After that, looks like they came through here, and David tried to get away, through the window... I found a piece of shirt, probably got torn on the catch.  Anyway, they got him."

"'Sokay CT, you did your best," Ham nodded at his daughter who, at mention of David's capture had fallen once more silent and glum.  Despite her father's encouragement she remained so.

The meeting was interrupted by the buzzing of the vid-phone and Ham reached over to the kitchen extension, freezing at the scene.

It was David, pale but bearing himself well, standing in front of some man who held him by the shoulders.  The man himself stood so that his head and shoulders were out of shot, and the audio, when he spoke, had been tampered with to disguise the voice.

"Mr. Tyler."

"Here."

"Leave the Lawton case," the voice warned, "Drop it.  Unless you want your boy back in pieces, I suggest you forget you ever heard the name."

"Please... please don't... don't hurt him," Ham's voice shook a little, his eyes dark with emotion as he pleaded with them, "Don't hurt my son.  I'll do it.  I'll drop it.  Anything.  Just... "

"Fine.  We'll be in touch."  The screen blanked out.

Julie stared at Ham, and Jeri shook her head.  Neither had seen him go to pieces like that, ever.  Unexpectedly, Chris chuckled, though the humour didn't last long.

"You get my vote for the gold Oscar, but do you think they fell for it?"

When Ham faced them again, his expression, so recently liquid with fear and begging, was stony and forbidding.  "It'll stall them until I find them.  And when I find them..." his smile was savage and unpleasant and Chris was glad they were on the same side.  He glanced down at CT beside him and found her own face twisting into an angry, vicious smile.  Jesus, what a family.

"But... Ham!" Julie protested.  "No... look, just leave it.  It doesn't matter.  Not anymore.  Dan's dead, so what's the point?  The only life at stake here is David's, and I can't let you pursue this."

"You can't let me... ?" he regarded her coolly.

"It's my fault he's been taken!  IF I hadn't asked you to look for Dan..."  Julie faltered.  "It's not worth it."

"Then it was a favour for an old friend.  Now it's personal.  I'll get David, and then I'll have their teeth as Christmas decorations."

"Count on it," CT added.

Julie looked from one to the other.  She didn't doubt it for a minute.
 
 

"Look, Akira... we had to do it."

"You had to do no such thing," the taller Saurian retorted icily, pausing in his stride.  "It was a rash, impulsive act; you may have damaged the operation irreparably."

"One kid?" the other human said in disbelief.

"One Tyler child," Akira corrected.  "Putting aside the fact that the kidnapping was unnecessary risk, did you not realize that the boy belongs to the human Ham Tyler?"

"He was getting nosy!" the first protested, "He was snooping around the Casino yesterday and the day before he was at the docks asking all sorts of questions.  He... he suspected something."

"Which is a light year away from actually knowing something, you fool.  He had no evidence, and certainly no motivation to continue the investigation into Lawton's death.  His suspicions would have had no leads; he would have been forced to abandon the case.  Do you think he will give up easily now?"

"But we've got his kid.  He was a jellyfish on the vid-phone last night... he'll do anything we say to get him back."  The humans grinned.  "We might even get a bit of cash out of it."

Akira rolled his human eyes in disgust for the complete ignorance these Earthers showed of their own species.  How in the Homeworld's name their race did not annexe this one in two microns flat was quite beyond him.  "Obviously," he said, resuming his pacing, "you do not have knowledge of Mr. Clarence Hamilton Tyler."

"And you do, I suppose?"

"As a matter of fact, yes.  The record files are quite detailed regarding this human.  He was one of your great Resistance leaders, you know.  He caused us many fatalities in the War, and featured prominently right up until the Armistice."

"So?"

"One of the most persistent themes in this human's psychological make-up is a complete and utter devotion to matters of family.  He spent fifteen years searching for his first wife and child who were killed in a country called Vietnam, and suffered considerable emotional and psychological trauma in the process.  There is nothing to show that he is not equally attached to his present wife and children.  In short, my dear fellow conspirators," Akira smiled thinly at them, leaning over his desk, "you have rattled the bear's cage.  Let us hope neither of us has left the door unbolted."

The two humans exchanged glances, not liking the analogy, and hardly believing that the blubbering middle-aged wreck they vid-phoned the night before could pose such a threat to their operation.

"So you want us to off the kid?"

Akira sighed.  "You really are slow learners, aren't you, Skinner?  No, do not 'off' the child.  The other driving force of Mr. Tyler's personality is an over-developed sense of revenge.  And... the child may be useful bargaining material.  No, keep the boy with you for the moment.  If I am right, Mr. Tyler will be paying me a visit very shortly, and then we shall move him.  I have just the place in mind.  Oh, and Mr. Skinner," Akira said as the two were about to leave the office, "I'll be wanting a talk with Mr. MacKellar at this time.  See to it, will you."

It was not a request.
 
 

"Tyler," he rasped.

"Tarrington," the voice identified even before the screen cleared of static to display the laid-back Texan's face.  Tyler had to struggle to realign his thoughts -- they were full of David, David, David at the moment -- but Tarrington, a sharp and experienced field man, helpfully supplied him with the necessary details.  "We've been investigating the Lawton case here in Colorado, Ham.  Up until yesterday it was no-go.   I thought we'd come up empty.  Then Petersen went in undercover."

"Explain."

Tarrington scratched his head on the vid-screen and looked perplexed.  "Well... we picked up a 'text in 'Frisco with mentioned the Mars Project -- Colorado being its main base, as you know.  It was a little teeny ad -- Petersen picked it up..."

"Get to the point, Lance."

"The psychological research department was advertising for... subjects... and it stipulated no living relatives as part of the deal.  Paid well, too," he added as an afterthought, though Tyler didn't see the humour.  "So she went in and -- disappeared.  Haven't heard from her in 24 hours.  Connection?"

"I'd better not lose an operative to find out," Tyler growled.  "You want to come in?"

"Hell no!  It's just becomin' interestin'!"

Tyler grunted.  "Keep in touch by 4."

Tyler broke the connection before he could argue -- operatives hated checking in every four hours; it cramped their style.  But Tarrington was a good friend.  he didn't want to add him to the list of 'missing persons' involved in this increasingly messy case.  He chewed a thumbnail as he sat contemplating the situation.  Tash... missing... Chris would damn near spit the dummy to get down there, and just when he needed him close by.

Suddenly, he had to do something, get moving.  He glanced at his watch -- 8:50am.  Time to pay a certain Saurian a visit.

At the Seattle Marine Park, Akira was not surprised to be informed that a Mr. Clarence Hamilton Tyler was at reception for him.  With a hiss of exasperation for his timing, he instructed his visitor to be shown in.

"Mr. Tyler, what a nice surprise!"

"I doubt that," Tyler growled, stalking into the office.  "I'm here for just one thing... Akira.  A warning.  Keep off my toes.  If I find you within spitting distance -- lizard spitting distance -- of my boy, I'll tear you limb from ugly lim.  Got that?"

"Rather difficult to miss," Akira demurred, leaning casually on  the front of his desk.  "Has this got anything to do with me, personally, Mr. Tyler, or are you just peeved with our species in general?"

Tyler snarled.  "Don't play games with me!  When I pin this on you, lizard, I'll do it with a semi-automatic.  Count on it."

"In five second you'll be doing whatever it is you feel you need from behind prison bars, Mr. Tyler.  I don't take slanderous accusations and death threats from any one, of any species.  Do I make myself clear?"

"You'd never reach that alarm alive, lizard," Tyler said, his hand already inside the leather jacket for his gun.  Akira froze, wondering how he'd known, but Tyler turned and made for the door.  "Don't do anything stupid," was his parting shot, and then he was gone.

Akira let out a pent-up breath in a hiss.  Tyler-in-person more than lived up to his file history.  He'd have to move carefully.  Tapping a stylus thoughtfully against an itchy eye ridge, the Saurian pressed a control on his desk and a wall slid open to reveal another room beyond.  He stepped through and the wall closed up noiselessly.

"Mr. MacKellar, what a nice surprise!"

"Look, I'm not interested in the chit chat, whoever you are."  Nicholas MacKellar lay on a slight angle in a full-length diagnostic unit with a mile stasis field preventing any movement.  He hated these things.  And he couldn't help the profuse sweating brought on by the lack of control over the situation.  "Just get it over with."

Akira shook his head at the rudeness of the human race in general.  He always tried to conduct his business, however unpleasant, on a polite and civilized level.  This was obviously quite beyond the human grasp.  Nevertheless...

"Mr. MacKellar, we merely want to ask you a few questions."

"What if I don't want to answer them?"

"Naturally, you don't have any choice in the matter, so I'd advise you not to resist the probe."  Akira peered closely at the human.  "Surely you've been through this procedure before with my colleagues in San Francisco?"

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," he snapped.  "Look, Jedrek and I had an understanding in San Francisco -- I contacted him.  When he needed to speak to me, he didn't yank me off some street like some B-grade movie.  He asked me to do this surveillance on Alex Bailey, as a favour.  I didn't want to, but... Look, I know Jedrek -- he'd never have ordered that attack on the Tylers.  What the hell's going on?"

Akira smiled thinly.  The human really believed he operated voluntarily.  But of course, Jedrek was a master programmer.  "No," he said, "Jedrek didn't order the attack.  That was a piece of amateur and premature action on the part of our human associates."  He stressed the word human ever so slightly.  "If I had been co-ordinating this whole section instead of working in co-operation with humans, none of this would have happened, you know.  Lawton would simply have disappeared, and eventually, finding no evidence anywhere, the investigation would have died down.  The police had already stopped looking."  He shrugged.  "But we'll have to deal with the situation as it is now.  And you, Mr. MacKellar, have become a very useful chess piece."

"I won't do anything against the Tylers," MacKellar ground out, cursing the constant stream of moisture trickling down his neck.  "You can't make me with this thing."

"Oh for Rah's sake, MacKellar, this is not your own Spanish Inquisition," Akira said testily, losing his patience.  "We certainly have enough evidence on your activities at the San Francisco zoo to ruin your career and possibly your life if your own authorities found out.  That keeps you in line more effectively than any machine, does it not?  I merely want you to observe the Tylers, and report their movements to me.  Keep an eye on that man, Tyler, in particular.  He's dangerous.  Will you do that?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes.  You can co-operate, or I can implicate you in the sale of animals from the San Francisco zoo."

MacKellar said nothing.  He had never meant to get this involved.  It seemed so harmless in the beginning.  A struggling vet trying to pay off huge education fees after the War on a low-paying job... selling a few animals which were dead, or near-dead anyway, to a collector of exotic animals.  They did pay extremely well, and he supposed he should have known it was illegal from that alone.  When his conscious became too much for him and he confronted his contact about the matter, intending to stop the selling, the Saurian Jedrek showed up.  By then, of course, he was quite effectively compromised, and the machine they used could be very painful if resisted.

Akira took the human's silence for assent, and nodded to his assistant to begin a scan.  MacKellar stiffened inside the unit as he felt the probe invade his mind, but as usual, there was no resisting it, and MacKellar was not the heroic type with an abnormally high pain threshold...........

.....................they found what they wanted.  MacKellar's next coherent memory was waking up in the gutter of a side street with two law enforcers standing over him, slightly bored expressions on their faces.  He was advised to 'move along' or be thrown in jail to dry out.   Nursing an economy-sized headache, MacKellar complied.  On automatic, he headed for the Seattle General Hospital.  It usually took a day or so to recover from a scan, the machine having a slight amnesiac effect.  As his memories started returning, however, he wished he could forget them permanently.  The lizards had gotten every last detail, right down to the convention, the equestrian competition, the dinner afterwards, the hotel room... not that they cared about the nitty-gritty, but privacy was privacy.  He searched carefully through his later memories, but couldn't find anything too damning.  As they suspected, Tyler knew nothing definite at the moment.

Nicholas wished he'd been able to find out where young David Tyler was being held.  He felt obscurely guilty about the attack, even though he'd known nothing about it.

With a shake of his head, Nicholas changed direction, irritated with himself for trotting off so obediently in the direction they wanted.  He'd drop by the hospital later, see how Alex was doing.  First, he had to shed these sweat-soaked clothes and as many epidermal layers as possible, though he doubted any amount of scrubbing could wash off the stink of lizard.  And betrayal.
 
 

"Get some rest.  You could use it."

Chris grunted, and didn't stop pacing.  "There's something about that psych. lab... the people... did you notice?   All lizard?"

"Yeah," Tarrington said laconically, "I noticed."

"And... weird lizard.  Off, kinda.  Like in the War."

"You're overworked, Chris."

"I'm right, and you damned well know it.  You felt it too."

"Maybe.  So what?  It's nothing to take to the law."

"Nope, it's ain't.  But if we notice it, others must too.  What about these so-called 'research subjects'?  They can't all disappear off the face of the Earth!"

"You wanna talk to some of them?"

"Damn right!  Set up a computer link to the office.  I want names and numbers for a 100 klick radius of here.  We're gonna get some answers."

"Yessuh, boss."  Tarrington was on his feet and setting up the portable equipment.  He knew for a fact that so long as Tash Petersen was missing, he'd get no sleep.  That was fine.  It was Faber's way of telling him he'd messed up -- lost a partner.  And he knew Faber was thinking that if he'd partnered Petersen she might not be on the MIA list fright now.  Tarrington didn't lose any sleep over this -- in the figurative sense: he knew he was twice the operative Chris Faber was.  Sharper, keener.  Maybe twenty years ago... who knows, it might have been a fair fight.  These days he found himself wondering when (not if) the Geriatric Couple would retire and leave it to the younger generation.  There was even a pool on it in the office.  Of course, Tarrington wasn't stupid: he'd never say this to Ham Tyler's face... at least, not just yet.

With a slight grin, Tarrington tapped into the TFE office main-frame and started punching in his requests with sharp, decisive keystrokes.
 
 

"... so, should we administer the drug, Mr. Tyler?"

At the word 'drug', Tyler's eyes narrowed and he left what he'd been doing on the other side of his office, coming back to his desk, swinging the vid-screen around and punching 'visual'.

"What did you say about drugs?"

The doctor on the other end of the line sighed, lowering her glasses as she realized she could see the person she was calling.  "Mr. Tyler, I've just outlined a very complex situation regarding your wife.  Have you listened to any of it?"

"Yes, yes, of course.  You just didn't mention drugs.  Well, won't she come out of this coma by herself?"

"Maybe.  Probably.  There's no way to put a time on it, I'm afraid.  The drug will certainly bring her out of it, but as I said, I can't guarantee the results.  We have had... unpredictable episodes.  Cases of petite mal epileptic seizures in the first 24 hours -- this seems to be the most common, and treatment is not too difficult.  WE have not had a case where the patient's seizures exceed 24 hours."

"Other side-effects?"

"Drowsiness, nausea and disorientation have been reported."

"Nothing permanent?"

"Not to date."

"Will she... come out of it soon without treatment?"  Tyler tried to stop the note of desperation creeping into his voice, but the sympathetic look on the doctor's face told him he hadn't succeeded.

"As I said, I can't say, Mr. Tyler.  Head injuries are very unpredictable.  The decision must be up to you."

Tyler punched 'hold', not caring if the Van Driel thought him rude.  But what choice could there be?  It was a selfish one, born entirely of his own needs, and he made it.

"Okay, doctor," he said, "do it.  I'll be at the hospital this afternoon."

The doctor was shaking her head.  "No, it's too late to assemble the neurological team today.  I'll want them standing by when your wife wakes up.  Say... first thing tomorrow morning..."

"Fine," Tyler said shortly, and cut the connection.

He sighed.  Now he had two problems.  The Alex problem he could do nothing about.  So grimly, he sat down to pick up his painstaking computer research into the David problem -- primarily, to find his whereabouts, and also to find out just what the hell Dan Lawton had been involved in that spooked so many people.  He had the feeling that if he solved that, he'd find David, and the tedious searching of vid-texts, police & civil records as well as their own comprehensive information files, helped take his mind off just what might happen to Davie if he failed...
 

Forward to Part Three

Back to Postscripts
Back to V: Fan Fiction Main Page
Back to V: The Series HOME