Dingo went to the warehouse the following morning, determined to make sure that Rollie didn’t find out that he knew about what happened.  The moment he laid eyes on his son, however, he found it nearly impossible not to pull Rollie into a tight embrace and try to comfort him.  Fighting the impulse, he put on a smile and walked toward Rollie, who was chatting with the young agent named David Rain.

“Hey, Dad,” Rollie called when he spied his father.  “I didn’t expect you here this early.  Our little performance isn’t scheduled until after lunch.”

“I know.  I just wanted to be here,” Dingo replied.

Rollie searched his face intently.  “Is everything okay?”

“Sure.  Everything’s great.  I . . . just want to be here with you, that’s all.”

Rollie smiled softly.  “I’m glad you are here, Dad,” he said quietly.  He laid his hand on Dingo’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“So, Mister Tyler, what did you think when your son decided to become a stuntman for a living?” Agent Rain asked.

Dingo made a face.  “I’m not Mister Tyler, I’m Dingo.”

David grinned.  “Dingo.  That’s a rather unusual name.  Isn’t a dingo an Australian wild dog?  Why did your parents give you that name?”

Rollie laughed, merriment dancing in his eyes.  “They didn’t.  That isn’t Dad’s real name.  His real name is--”

“Don’t say it!” Dingo said quickly, holding up his hand.  “You know how I hate that name.”

Rollie’s grin grew a mile wide.  “Yes, I do.”  He crossed his arms over his chest.  “Which makes me wonder even more how you could saddle me with a name like Roland.”

“That wasn’t my idea and you know it.  Your mum chose your name.  It was her baby brother’s name, the one who died when he was five.”

Rollie’s smile had dimmed.  “Yeah, I know.”  The smile returned.  “I still wish you’d talked her out of it, though.”

“Me talk your mother out of something?  Not likely.”

Rollie chuckled.

David smiled as he watched the exchange between father and son.  “So, back to my original question, what did you think about Rollie getting into the movie business?” he asked.

“It shocked the hell out of me,” Dingo replied candidly.  “Rollie hadn’t seen more than a dozen movies in his entire life, and, suddenly, he wanted to be part of making them.”  He smiled fondly at his son.  “He always did keep me on my toes.”

At that moment, Elena and Marty came in.  Both agents were wearing serious expressions.  They came up to Rollie, Dingo, and David.  Agents Simmons and Barker, who had been over by the coffeemaker, joined them.

“We may have a little situation brewing,” Elena said.

“What’s that?” Rollie asked.

“Whitmore’s coming over.”

“Who’s Whitmore?” Dingo asked.

“He’s the SAC, the agent in charge of this case,” David told him.  He turned back to Elena.  “So, what’s going to be the problem with that?”

“Well, for one thing, if Mira’s here, Whitmore’s going to have hell to pay,” Rollie said, remembering what the detective had said yesterday.

“I wish that was the extent of it,” Mira sighed.  “Whitmore doesn’t know that you’re alive.”

“What?  You didn’t tell him?” Simmons asked disapprovingly.

“I told him the same thing that I told you,” Elena explained.  “I was going to tell him the truth yesterday, but he was in meetings all day.  He suddenly called me into his office this morning and told me that he wants to be here when we set things in motion.  I was going to tell him then about Rollie, but he got a phone call and dismissed me.”

“Oh, this is just great,” Rollie muttered.

“You can say that again,” Marty agreed.

“When is he due to arrive?” the Aussie asked.

“12:30,” Elena replied.

“Not enough time to build a bomb shelter,” David murmured.

Rollie chuckled at the comment.  “Well, we’ll just have to deal with it.  I wonder if I should tell Mira ahead of time or keep my mouth shut and hope she doesn’t figure out that it was Whitmore who gave the orders about the car.”

There was a moment of silence, then, “Keep your mouth shut,” said a chorus of voices.

Mira showed up an hour later, along with Frank.  They’d brought lunch for everyone.  Finding seats, everybody munched on their food and talked about the case.  They’d just finished the meal and cleared the trash away when a balding man in his fifties came in.  Rollie tensed, realizing that this must be Whitmore.  At that moment, the man spied him and halted in his tracks.

“What the hell is going on here?” he asked angrily.  “You’re Rollie Tyler.”

“That’s right.”

The man’s ice blue eyes turned to Elena.  “You knew he was alive?”

“Yes.”

“And you just decided not to tell me?”  Whitmore’s face began to turn red.  “I could put you on report for this, Serrano!  I am the SAC on this case.  You had no business keeping information this important from me.”

“With all due respect, sir, I did what I thought was necessary to keep Rollie safe.  I had no way of knowing which agents were in bed with the organization.”

“This was a direct breach of protocol,” Whitmore continued, seemingly ignoring Elena’s explanation.  “When this is over, you can bet that the A.D. is going to hear about this.”

“I--” Elena began, but didn’t get the chance to finish.

“You!  You’re the one who ordered Rollie’s car to be dumped in the river,” Mira said, her voice already brimming with anger.

“Oh, boy,” Rollie muttered, already cringing.

“Yes.  So what?” Whitmore said, looking Mira up and down.  “And who, may I ask, are you?”

“I am Detective Palmira Sanchez of the Midtown South precinct and a good friend of Rollie and Angie’s.  And I’ve got a few words to say to you.  What kind of man goes behind somebody’s back and deliberately does something to make that person’s friends and family think he’s dead?”

Whitmore’s face turned a darker shade of red.  He took a step toward Mira, his finger stabbing at her.  “Now, you see here, Detective Sanchez.  You have no say in this case and no damn right to question my actions.  If you don’t like how we do things, then you can just go back to your precinct and keep your nose out of our business!”

Her eyes blazing with rage, Mira launched into a tirade of Spanish, and by the look on Whitmore’s face, he understood every word of it.  Rollie had thought that it wasn’t possible for the man’s face to get any redder than it was.  He was wrong.

“Who’s your commanding officer?!” Whitmore yelled.  “I’m going to have him take you off this case and give you a formal reprimand!”

Mira threw a few more Spanish expletives at the man.

“Enough!” Rollie yelled, his voice cutting through everything.  All eyes turned to him.  The Aussie looked at Mira.  “Mira, just cool it, okay?  I know you’re steamed, but it’s ancient history now.  Just let it pass.”  He then turned his gaze on Whitmore.  “Listen, Whitmore.  I’m willing to put this in the past, even though I’m still mad about what you did.  But let’s get something perfectly straight.  Elena did exactly what she should have done, what any good agent would do in her place.  She had no way of knowing if you were in on the attempt to kill me.  If she had told you, and it turned out that you were dirty, she would have been signing my death warrant, and you know it.  It makes no difference that you’re the lead agent on this case.  Actually, it’s just the opposite.  You being the agent in charge made it even more likely that you were the one who leaked the information to the organization.  Now, according to what Elena’s told me, she has since proven that you’re not involved, but, at the time, she didn’t know that.  So, let’s just forget about this whole thing and focus on what we’re doing.”

Whitmore stared at him, seemingly sizing him up.  That’s when Rollie noticed something and got a sudden idea.

“Look here, Mister Tyler--” the agent began.

“Reverend Tyler,” Rollie corrected.

Whitmore blinked in surprise.  “Excuse me?”

“It’s Reverend Tyler, Agent Whitmore.  I’m an ordained minister.”

Whitmore’s entire manner underwent an abrupt transformation.  The change couldn’t have been more complete if Rollie had proven himself to be the president of the United States.

“Your pardon, Reverend.  I didn’t know.”  The man’s manner had become one of apology.  He glanced at Elena, then back to Rollie.  “I suppose you are right about this.  Elena did do the wise thing.  As you said, she didn’t know at the time if I could be trusted.”  He cleared his throat.  “So, shall we get this show on the road?”  He walked away toward the monitors.

The Aussie looked at the others.  Everyone’s mouths were hanging open in shock.

“How did you do that?” Dingo asked in an awed whisper.

Rollie smiled.  “I’ll tell you later.”  He turned and joined Whitmore, everybody else following after a moment’s pause.

“So, what have we got here?” Whitmore asked.

“Well, this,” Rollie pointed at the monitor on the far left, “is Congressman Dales’s office.  The next one over is his car.  These are various places in his house.  We’re going to get things started in his car.  He’s out to lunch right now, but should be returning to his car soon to go back to the office.  Once he does, the show will begin.  Now, if you will excuse me, I need to contact my partner.  She will be controlling some of the effects from her end.”

Rollie sat down and slipped on a headset.  “Ange, do you read?”  He focused his gaze on the monitor in the center, which was the only one not showing a camera feed.  Words began to appear on it.  A computer voice translated the words and spoke them aloud.

“Yeah, I’m here, Rol.  Everything’s set up.”

“Good.  Dales should be making his entrance soon.”

Even as Rollie spoke the words, there was movement on the far left screen.  Everyone watched as Robert Dales got into his car and left the parking lot of the restaurant. With a smile, Rollie said into the mic of his headset.  “Okay, Angie.  Roll ‘em and . . . action!”

Robert Dales watched the traffic before him, impatient to get out of it and back to the office.  A sudden movement in his rearview mirror made him glance at it.  Seeing nothing but the cars behind him, he shrugged and returned his attention to the road.  No sooner had he looked away, then he saw something again.  Startled, his eyes fixed on the mirror.  For a second, he could have sworn that it showed someone sitting in the back seat of his car.  Glancing behind him and seeing nothing, the congressman shrugged again.  Suddenly, it was there again, in the mirror, a man sitting in the back seat.  Dales gasped and slammed on the brakes, his head whipping around to stare at the seat behind him.  It was empty like before.  Swallowing, he turned back to face the windshield and resumed driving, accompanied by the blaring of horns.  He ran his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes.  What he had thought he’d seen hadn’t been human, not a living human being.  Laughing nervously, Dales dismissed it as the product of an overworked mind.  He had completely convinced himself of this when something happened that sent ice water through his veins.

“Our blood is on your hands,” said a ghostly whisper, seeming to come from inside the car.

Dales slammed on the brakes again, his eyes darting wildly about the car.  “Who’s there?!  Where are you?!” he cried.  There was no answer.  Ignoring the horns and cursing drivers, he continued to look about the car for several seconds.  Finally, he resumed driving, his hands shaking as they gripped the wheel.

“It’s my imagination.  That’s all it is,” he told himself aloud.  “Or maybe the medication’s making me see things.  I’ll have to call the doctor on Monday, maybe not go into work.”

The rest of the drive was uneventful.  He parked his car and went up to his office, feeling a sense of relief as he shut the door behind him.  He settled in the chair behind the desk and began going though some papers, trying to focus on them.  He’d been at it for a couple of minutes, when he heard a noise.  Looking up, he stared at the door.

“Maggie, is that you?” he called.  After a moment, the door opened to reveal his secretary.

“Did you call me, sir?” she asked.

“Um, I heard an odd noise and wondered if it was you.”

“No, sir.  I was just typing up the Dunbury report.”

“Must be hearing things.  Thanks, Maggie.”

Dales’s secretary smiled and shut the door.  The congressman looked back down at the papers.  All at once, a cold breath of wind touched him, like icy fingers from the grave.  Shivering, Dales felt goose bumps spring up on his arms.

“Dales,” a voice whispered.

The congressman’s head shot up.

“Robert Dales,” the voice said again.

“Who’s there?  Who are you?” Dales asked in a shaking voice.

“Our blood is on your hands, Dales,” the voice told him.  “Your hands.”

There was another blast of cold air.  Dales looked across the room and saw a reflection in the glass display case, a gruesome figure standing right behind him, its arms reaching out for him.  Dales cried out and spun around to find nothing there.  A moment later, the door opened.  Dales started and stared wild-eyed at his secretary.

“Sir, are you all right?  I thought I heard you cry out,” she asked in concern.

“I-I-I. . . .  Y-yes, I’m all right.  I’m . . . just not feeling well,” he told her.

“Maybe you should go home and rest.”

“No, I’ll be fine.  Thanks for the concern.”

Still looking worried, Maggie shut the door.

Casting his eyes about the room again, Dales settled back in his seat, wondering if he was going insane.

Rollie watched the monitor with a satisfied smile.  “Okay, Ange.  That’s enough for now.  Let’s give the guy a break.  We’ll pick it back up at his house tonight.”

“Okay.  I’ll see you then, Rol.”  There was a pause.  “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.  Love you.  Bye.”  Rollie closed the connection and removed his headset.

“Why are you stopping now?” Whitmore asked.  “He was getting pretty spooked.  I’d think that you’d want to press your advantage.”

“We don’t want him to fall apart there at the office,” Rollie explained, “not with other people around.  They’re liable to call an ambulance and have him carted off to the hospital.  We want Dales to be alone when we really go after him.  That will be tonight.”

“Good thinking.  So, I guess we’re done here until then.  What time do you have set for the next round?”

“Nine o’clock.”

“We’ll see you then.”  Whitmore turned to Elena.  “I want all the details on this plan, Serrano, and your verbal report on what really went down at the safe house and afterwards.  Be in my office in an hour.”  Without another word, he walked out of the warehouse.

“Charming fellow,” Rollie said mildly.

“Okay, Rollie.  Tell us how you managed to defuse that guy so quickly,” Dingo said.

Rollie grinned.  “It was simple.  I noticed that Whitmore was wear a crucifix tie pin and cufflinks.  Usually, you wouldn’t see something like that unless he was very religious.  Most people that religious have great respect for members of the clergy.  I took a chance that telling him I was a minister would cool him down.”

“What if it had turned out that he was Catholic and hated Protestants?” Mira asked.

“Then his anger would have been turned toward me and away from you and Elena.  I could handle that a lot easier.  Besides, outside of Northern Ireland, it isn’t very common for Catholics to hate Protestants that much or vice verse.”

“Are you really a minister?” David asked.

“Yes.  I was ordained before I left for my new life in Washington.”  He smiled.  “It’s a long story.”

“I’d like to hear it sometime . . . Reverend,” David said, also smiling.

“You’ll be getting the whole story soon, before we go after Loubar.”

“Wait a minute.  You plan on going after Victor Loubar?” Gail Barton asked.

“We have to.  As long as Loubar’s out there, Angie and I will never be safe.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Simmons asked.

“We’ll explain that part of the plan after we take down Irwin O’Brien.”

Daniel stared down at the binder, jotting down a thought here, a scripture there, trying to gather his thoughts and prepare his sermon for Sunday.  In his job in Africa, he’d ministered under very different circumstances than here, yet some things remained the same.  Today, however, his thoughts tended to dwell more on Rollie than on the sermon he was supposed to be writing.  Daniel knew that today was the day that the first part of the Aussie’s plan was to be set in motion.  In just a few days, they would all know if the plan had been a success or a failure.

Another person who had occupied Daniel’s thoughts a great deal was Alex Stone.  There was something about her that attracted him to her.  For some reason, she reminded him of Kate, even though she looked nothing like the Catholic girl whom he had fallen in love with.  He had been tempted to go to breakfast at the Widow’s Walk today, but had decided against it.  This sermon had to be written.  Besides, though she had been nothing but polite to him, Daniel still got the distinct impression that Alex wished he was Rollie every time she saw him.  It was perfectly natural for her to feel that way, but it still bothered him.  Oh well.  If everything went according to plan, he’d be on a plane heading back to Africa in a couple of weeks or so.  What Alex thought of him wouldn’t really matter then.

So, why did it still trouble him so?

It was well into the afternoon when Daniel finished the sermon.  Deciding to go for a walk, he began wandering down the trails and roads that crisscrossed the hill the church sat on.  He’d been walking for about an hour and a half when he heard a bicycle approaching.  Daniel turned to see Dylan coming up the road.

“Hi, Reverend Cooper,” the boy greeted.

“Hello, Dylan.  If I had known you were going riding, I would have joined you.”

“Maybe we could go tomorrow,” Dylan said, a hopeful note in his voice.

“Sure.  That would be great.”  Daniel paused.  Though Alex had turned down his offer to talk to Dylan about Rollie, the missionary knew that something needed to be said.  Deciding that he could live with the redhead’s wrath if it fell upon him, Daniel broke his silence.  “Um, Dylan.  I’d like to talk to you about Rollie, if that’s okay.”

Dylan shrugged.  “Yeah, I guess.”

“There are some things that I think you need to understand about him.  I know you think that nobody can beat him, that, no matter what, he’s going to win against the bad guys.”  He focused an intense gaze upon the boy.  “But, Dylan, no matter how smart, or good, or talented we are, things don’t always happen the way we want them to.  Rollie isn’t any different.  The last time he tangled with these people, he lost.  He lost everything, his whole life, all the things that were important to him.  He came very close to being killed.  These things didn’t happen because Rollie made a mistake or wasn’t good enough to beat the bad guys.  They happened because the odds were too great against him.  Nobody could have won against those odds.”

“But he’s going to beat them now,” Dylan said.

“We all hope that he is, and his chances are a whole lot better than they were before, but there are no guarantees, Dylan.  Rollie might still lose.  You have to be prepared if that happens.  You also need to pray to God that it won’t happen.  Rollie and Angie need all the prayers they can get.”

“But if Rollie loses, I’ll never see him again,” Dylan said, his eyes beginning to cloud up.

“I know, Dylan, and I am praying so hard that Rollie won’t lose.  But . . . if he does, if he has to leave and never come back, you need to know that he loves you and will remember you for always.  No matter where he is, that will never change.”  He studied the sad expression on the boy’s face.  Chucking Dylan under the chin, he gave him a smile.  “Hey.  Now don’t get all down in the mouth.  Rollie has a lot of good people on his side to help him.  And God is with him.  Who better to have standing in his corner?  Though I can’t know for sure that things are going to work out, I have a good feeling that they will.  You need to have faith, Dylan.  That’s the most important thing of all.  Okay?”

Dylan nodded.  He looked up at the missionary.  “If Rollie can’t come back, are you going to stay here?”

Daniel paused, not knowing what to stay.  He’d thought about this question himself.  What would he do if Rollie and Angie had to go on the run again, never to return to Hope Island?  Rollie had asked him to take care of the people of Hope if anything bad happened.  Could Daniel do that?  Could he remain here on this island and take Rollie’s place as their minister?  Would the islanders want him to?  He’d be a daily reminder of the friend they would never see again.  They might prefer it if another minister came to take over the parish, one who didn’t look like Rollie.  But how would he feel if he walked away and left the people of Hope to fend for themselves?  Even though he’d only been on the island a few days, he felt a responsibility to the people here.  No matter what, he had to make sure that they were going to be okay.

“I don’t know,” Daniel finally answered.  “I guess it depends on a lot of things.  That’s a decision I won’t be able to make until the time comes, if it comes.”

“So, if Rollie comes back, you’re going to go back to Africa.”

Daniel nodded.  “That’s where my work is.”

“Wouldn’t you like to stay here?” Dylan asked, looking at him earnestly.

Daniel stared at the boy in surprise.  It seemed as if there was at least one person on Hope Island who liked having him there.

Suddenly deciding to be completely honest with his feelings, Daniel gave a soft sigh.  “I . . . don’t really feel that this is the place for me, Dylan.  Things are complicated.  A lot of people. . . .  Well, let’s just say that there are mixed emotions about me being here.”

“Why?  Is it because you look like Rollie?”

“Yes, that’s the main reason.  People can’t help but look at me and think of Rollie.  I’m not trying to take his place, but people can’t help but think that I am.  It’s hard for them, knowing what they do.”

“I don’t think that you’re trying to take Rollie’s place,” Dylan said quietly.

Daniel smiled, touched by the boy’s words.  “Thank you, Dylan.  I appreciate that.”

They walked together for a while longer, talking about baseball, fishing, and other things, then Dylan said goodbye and headed home.  As he walked into the inn, he looked around for his mother and spied her behind the counter.  He’d been thinking about what Daniel had said all the way back home and decided that he wanted to talk to his mother about it.

“Hey, Dylan.  Did you have a nice ride?” Alex asked upon seeing her son.

“Uh huh.  I met Dan--, uh, Eric.  He was taking a walk.”  There was no one else around, but he knew that he was supposed to call Daniel Eric at all times when he was in public.

“Oh, really?  So . . . did you, um, talk about things?”  Alex looked at him intently.

“Yeah.  We talked about . . . Daniel, about what’s happening and what could happen if things don’t go right.”

“I see.  So, how do you feel about things now?”

“I know that he might not win, but I still think that he will.  Eric says that God is on his side.”

Alex smiled in relief.  It looked as if the minister had been able to get Dylan over his case of hero worship.  She’d have to thank him--even though he did go against her wishes.

“Mom, do you think that Eric is trying to take Daniel’s place?”

“What?”

“Eric told me that he feels like this isn’t the place for him because people think he’s trying to take Daniel’s place.  They’re not happy he’s here.”

Alex stared at her son, startled and upset by his words.  She thought about what he’d just said and realized that she had, indeed, felt that way.  Though she hadn’t been aware of it, she’d been harboring some resentment toward Daniel Cooper simply because he reminded her so much of Rollie and made her wish that he was Rollie.

Molly had just come out from the kitchen and had heard what Dylan said.  Meeting her eyes, Alex saw the same realization and guilt there.  Returning her gaze to her son, Alex gave a sigh.

“You’re right, Dylan.  I have been feeling that way.”

“But he isn’t trying to take Ro-- Daniel’s place, Mom.  He’s just trying to help and be here if we need him.”

“I know, sweetheart.  I was wrong to feel that way, and I’m sorry.”

“He’s going to leave and go back to Africa if he thinks people don’t want him here,” Dylan added, clearly unhappy about it.

Wondering why the thought of Daniel going back to Africa was upsetting her, Alex knelt before her son.  “Dylan, I promise that, from now on, I’m going to make Eric feel welcome here, and I’ll see that everyone else does, too.”

Dylan smiled.  “Good.  I don’t want him to leave.”

“You really like him, don’t you.”

Her son nodded.  “He’s a lot like Daniel.  We’re going to go bike riding tomorrow, and he wants to go fishing with me, too.”

“I’m glad, Dylan.  I’m happy that you and Eric are becoming friends.”  Alex looked at her watch.  “Now, you’d better go up to your room and get your homework done, young man.”

Watching her son head upstairs, Alex then turned to Molly.

“We owe Eric an apology,” Molly said.

“Yes, I know.  I really didn’t mean to give him the cold shoulder, Mol.”

“I know.  Neither did I.  I’d hate it if he left because he felt unwelcome.  We almost lost Daniel for that same reason.”

Molly’s words brought Hope Island’s minister back to Alex’s mind.  “I hope Daniel’s all right.”

“I’m sure he is, Alex.  I have faith that he’s going to be just fine.”
 

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The rest of the day had passed quietly.  Rollie was alone during most of it since the others had to attend to their jobs.  The time alone had given him the chance to think about what he would do if they managed to bring down the organization, but failed to catch Loubar.  Rollie knew that Loubar would never give up seeking revenge, and as long as he was out there, there was the danger that he would kill Angie to make Rollie suffer.  Rollie didn’t care so much about what happened to him.  It was Angie’s safety that was first and foremost in his mind.  He had to protect her, no matter what it took.  If he had to die to do it, he would without hesitation.  If he had to kill. . . .  Being a minister had given him even more respect for the sanctity of life, but if he had to choose between letting someone he cared about die or taking Victor Loubar’s life, he knew what he would do.  He would never forgive himself for it, but better that than the alternative.

Rollie’s thoughts turned toward Agent Whitmore.  He hoped that the man hadn’t caused trouble for Elena.  He had to admit that he was still angry with the agent for what he’d done nine months ago.  Whitmore had had no right to dump that car in the river without Rollie’s permission, and the man had to have known that he didn’t.  In fact, thinking about it, Whitmore probably deliberately went behind Rollie’s back because he knew that Rollie would never have agreed to it.  That thought made the Aussie even angrier.

Putting a firm hand on his temper, Rollie calmed himself and turned his thoughts to other things, like what he would do if everything worked out according to plan.  That was a question he still could not answer.  He loved Hope Island and the people there and didn’t want to leave, but he had also loved his old life and wanted it back.  He couldn’t have both.  A sacrifice would have to be made.  Hoping that the right decision would come to him when the time came, Rollie sighed and turned his attention to what would be taking place in just a couple of hours.

Angie packed the last item she would need in the knapsack and glanced about the loft.  In a little while, she would be sneaking out the secret entrance and heading off to where Dingo would pick her up for the trip to the warehouse.  She could have controlled the effects from here, just like she did this afternoon, but she wanted to be with Rollie tonight.  What happened tonight would show them whether or not they could make Robert Dales break down and confess everything.  So much depended on it.

The phone rang, and Angie went to pick it up, knowing that it was Mira, just as they had planned.

“Hi, Angie.  It’s Mira.  How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.  It’s been a quiet day.”

“Are . . . you going to be all right tonight?”

“Yeah, I . . . I think so.  I was just about to go upstairs and read for a while until I go to bed.”

“If you ever need some company, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”

“Yeah.  Thanks, Mira.  I’ll talk to you soon.  Bye.”  Angie hung up the phone with a slight smile.  The call had been necessary to make Loubar believe that Angie would be in the bedroom reading.  Then he wouldn’t wonder about the long period of silence.

Angie set the knapsack by the phone booth, then turned to Bluey.  “Goodnight, Blue.”  She then went upstairs, being sure to make enough noise on the steps that Loubar would hear it.  Once she was in the bedroom, she changed into dark clothing and grabbed her inline skates.  Skates and shoes in hand, she crept back downstairs and slipped out the phone booth, scooping up the knapsack on the way out.  In the alley, she donned her skates and took off down the street.  Two blocks away, she came upon Dingo.

“Hey there, honey.  Need a lift?” Rollie’s father joked.

“Sure, Mister, but don’t get any funny ideas,” Angie responded in an exaggerated Brooklyn accent.  “You ain’t my type.  I like ‘em tall, dark, and handsome.”

Dingo grinned and chuckled.  “Well, I know just the guy for you, and I happen to know that he’s very anxious to see you.”

“Well then, lead on, Doll.”  Grinning, Angie climbed into the passenger seat of the Caddy.  A while later, they were pulling up before the warehouse.  Angie smiled brightly when she stepped through the door and saw Rollie.  He came forward and engulfed her in a tight embrace, followed by a long kiss, seemingly uncaring that they had an audience.  As they drew apart, Angie looked at the others.  She noticed a man that she hadn’t seen before.  Looking a little on edge for some reason, Rollie lead her over to the man.

“Ange, this is Agent Whitmore.  Agent Whitmore, this is Angie Ramirez, my partner in Tyler F/X and my fiancée.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Ramirez,” the agent said, shaking her hand.

Angie nodded, thinking that the man’s name sounded familiar.  As the agent turned back to the others, it suddenly hit her.  Stiffening, she looked at Rollie.  “He’s the lead agent on the case, the one who gave the order about your car, Rollie,” she said in a low voice.

“Yes, I know, Ange.  Now, don’t go ballistic on me.  We already almost had nuclear war break out yesterday when he showed up.”

“Mira?”

“Yeah, but she was only part of it.  I’ll tell you the whole story later.”

Angie stared at the man coldly.  She had a few choice words that she’d like to have said to Agent Whitmore, but she knew that this was not the time.  They all needed to work together on this and not be at each other’s throats.

Choosing just to ignore the man as best she could, Angie went with Rollie over to the control station, the Aussie carrying her backpack.  They quickly set up the things Angie had brought.  A glance at the monitors showed that Dales was in his study, listening to music and reading the evening paper.

“All right, everyone.  Let’s get this show on the road,” Rollie said.  He sat down and, with a meaningful glance at Angie, touched an icon on the computer screen.

Robert Dales looked up from his newspaper, having heard a noise above the sound of the music on the stereo.  Not hearing it again, he returned his gaze to the paper.  That’s when it came again, a faint thump, like somebody banging against a wall.  Dales reached for the remote control and turned off the stereo.

“Mrs. Conroy?  Is that you?  Did you forget something?”  There was no answer at first.  The congressman’s blood ran cold as he suddenly heard a reply.

“Robert Dales,” said the eerie voice he’d heard in his car and office.

“No, no.  Not again,” Dales whispered.  “Go away!  Just go away!” he then yelled.  An arctic wind brushed across him, making him shiver.  He heard another thump, much closer this time.  The sound made him leap out of his chair.

“It’s not real.  It’s all in my imagination.  It’s not real!” Dales told himself desperately.

An evil laugh filled the air.  “Oh, but it is real, Dales.”

A black hole seemed to open up on the wall across the room.  A ghastly wail issued forth from it.  Dales backed away, his body shaking, his eyes widening as a figure walked out of the hole, the same man he’d seen in his car and in the office.  The congressman stared at the man, small, strangled sounds coming from his throat.  Half the man’s face was gone, appearing to have been blown away by a gunshot blast or explosion.  White bone gleamed through the mangled mass of flesh.  The other half of his face was grey and mottled by death, the effects of decomposition beginning to take their toll.

“You are responsible for this, Dales.  You helped them kill me and all the others.  You!” said the horrible apparition.

“No, no, no!  You’re not real!” the congressman screamed.  He ran out of the room, another evil laugh chasing on his heels.  He fled to his bedroom, where he locked the door and went to huddle in the corner.

“You can’t run from me, Dales,” said the voice, coming from right inside the room.  “You can’t hide.”

Robert Dales whimpered and cowered in the corner.  “It’s not real.”  Desperately, he reached for the phone.  As he put the receiver to his ear, the voice came out of it.

“No one can help you,” it said.

Crying out, Dales dropped the phone.  It clattered to the floor, where he stared at it like it was a poisonous snake.  Just then, one of the walls of the bedroom seemed to melt, dripping down like blood to the floor.  The deadman stepped through it from the roiling blackness beyond.

“I am dead because of you, Dales.  Dead because you turned your back and did nothing to stop the organization, dead because of your greed for money and power.”  The man pointed at him.  “You killed me!  And, now, you are going to die, too.  I can feel the death in you, eating away at your body.  You will soon be joining us, all the victims of the organization, all the people whom you could have saved.  Listen to them, Dale.  They’re crying out for justice.  Listen to them!”

The sound of many voices wailing and crying out in pain filled the room.  Dale’s eyes looked past the figure of the deadman to the hole in the wall.  He saw dozens of people, men and women, their bodies and faces ravaged from the violence of their deaths.  They were all looking at him with accusing eyes.

“No, no!  It wasn’t me!  I didn’t kill you!  I didn’t!” Dales sobbed, sinking to the floor in the corner to quiver in fear.

“But you did nothing to stop it, Dales.  You let them kill us.  You let them murder, and steal, and sell drugs, and commit other horrible crimes.  You are responsible!  And, now, you are going to die, too!”

The hole in the wall transformed into a gaping, fang-filled mouth.  The mouth lunged toward him, its fetid breath surrounding him.  Dales screamed in terror, throwing his arms over his face.  “Justice!” cried the voice.  Then everything went black and Dales crumpled to the floor.

Everyone in the warehouse stared at Dales’s motionless form.

“What happened?” Whitmore asked anxiously.

“Nothing.  We rigged a canister of gas in the room to knock him out,” Rollie explained.

“Okay, so what happens now?”

“The gas will keep him out for the rest of the night.  In the morning, Elena will pay a visit to the congressman and see if he’s willing to talk.”

“And if he isn’t?”

“Then the ‘ghost’ will pay him another visit.”

Whitmore nodded.  “I have to hand it to you, Reverend Tyler.  If I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn that those things were real.  It’s a good thing Dales doesn’t have a weak heart.  He’d probably have had a heart attack.”

Rollie smiled faintly.  “Well, we don’t want him to have a heart attack, just a change of heart.”

“So, this is it for tonight?” Simmons asked.

“Yep.  In the morning, we’ll see how it worked,” Rollie replied.

Whitmore, David, Simmons, and Gail Barton went home, leaving Frank, Mira, Elena, Marty, and Dingo with Rollie and Angie.

“So, do you think it will work?” Marty asked.

“Judging by his reactions tonight, I’d say so,” Rollie replied.  “He was on the verge of having a breakdown right then and there.  It shouldn’t take much more to get him to crack and spill everything to Elena.”

“Let’s hope so,” Elena said.

“So, did Whitmore behave himself when he had you in his office?” Rollie asked her with a grin.

“Yes and no.  He started to get pissed off again, but I took a lesson from you,” she told him.

“What lesson was that?”

“How to be a diplomat.  It wasn’t easy, but I kept my cool, and he eventually calmed down.”

Rollie chuckled.  He then grew serious.  “Elena, there’s something I want to know.  When Whitmore made the decision to dump my car in the river, did he plan on telling me?”

Elena shifted uncomfortably.  “I’m sorry, Rollie.  He didn’t.  In fact, he gave all the agents involved strict orders that they were not to tell you.”

Rollie’s brows lowered.  “He knew that I wouldn’t go for it.”

“Yes.”

“That son of a--”  Angie began, but cut herself off at a look from Rollie.

“I wish now that I’d gone against orders and told you,” Elena said regretfully.  “Dumping that car didn’t do any good.  It only caused a lot of unnecessary grief when it was found.”

Rollie put his arm around Angie and met his father’s gaze for a moment, wishing with all his heart that he had known about the car.

Elena and Marty left, followed a few minutes later by Mira and Frank.  Alone with Angie and Dingo, Rollie told his fiancée about the blow up that morning and the reason why Whitmore was so cordial while in the minister’s company.

“You know, you being a minister is turning out to be quite a handy thing, Rol.  First Mira, now Whitmore,” Angie said with a grin.  “You should have gotten ordained a long time ago.  Then we’d have had no trouble at all with those jerk producers and directors.”

“Yeah, Ange, I can just see it now, the Reverend Rollie Tyler doing the effects for Cistern of Blood, House of Horrors, Werewolf in New York, and other quality family films.”  The Aussie’s eyes were twinkling.

Angie grew serious.  “Rol, what are we going to do once this is all over?  Those kinds of movies were a huge part of our livelihood.”

“I don’t know, Ange.  In all conscience, I don’t think that I could still do those kinds of films.  We did do other stuff, good movies like Fallen Knight and Red Storm, and ones like Earth Doom, The Vindicator, Blood Money, and the tons of sci-fi stuff we’ve done would be okay for the most part.  I guess we would just have to be more picky with what we did.”

“Does this mean that you’re going to go back to special effects once you can come out of hiding?” Dingo asked.

“I don’t know, Dad.  I really don’t.  I love both of my lives, the one I lost here and the one I found on Hope Island.  I wish I could keep both, but I know I can’t.”  Rollie sighed.  “But there’s no use thinking about it until I know if I’m going to have a choice.  I may end up losing both lives.”

“That won’t happen, Rollie,” Dingo assured him.  “I know how much it hurt you when you had to run and leave everything behind, but that isn’t going to happen again.  Everything is going to be all right.”

Rollie stared at Dingo for a moment.  His eyes abruptly widened, and he turned to Angie.  “You told him!  You told him about what happened!”

“Rollie, I’m sorry.  I didn’t--”

Rollie quickly stood up and strode away.

“Rollie, I made her tell me.  She didn’t want to,” Dingo hastily told him, distressed that he’d screwed up and Rollie had found out.  Damn his big mouth!  Why hadn’t he kept it shut?

“I didn’t want you to know,” Rollie said in barely more than a whisper.  “What you must think of me.”

Dingo quickly went to his son’s side.  He grasped Rollie’s arms and turned his son toward him.  Rollie refused to meet his eyes, keeping his gaze on the floor.

“Now, you listen to me,” Dingo said, his voice trembling.  “I love you, Rollie, and I am so proud of you.  Nothing Angie told me could change that, nothing.  You went through a terrible ordeal, one that would break many people.  That doesn’t make you any less a man than you were before.  The fact that you found the strength to get past it and build a new life, a good life where you kept right on helping people, says everything.  A lot of people would have just hidden in a hole for the rest of their lives.  But you didn’t.  You never could.  And, now, you’re fighting to get back what you lost instead of playing it safe and letting things remain as they are.”  Dingo pulled his son’s face up, forcing him to meet his gaze.  “You are an extraordinary man, Rollie, more so than I ever gave you credit for.  I wish I’d seen it a long time ago.  I wish I’d seen a lot of things.”

Rollie’s eyes filled with tears.  He pulled his father into his arms.  They just held each other for a long time.  Finally, they drew apart.  Rollie’s gaze met Angie’s.  She was clearly upset, tears on her face.

“Rollie, I’m sorry,” she said as he approached her.  “Please forgive me.”

Not saying a word, Rollie wrapped his arms around her.  She buried her face in his chest, holding him tightly.

“I shouldn’t have tried to keep it from him,” Rollie murmured.  “He’s my father.  I should have told him.”

Angie wiped the tears from his face.  “Are you going to be all right?”

Rollie gave her a weak smile.  “Yeah.  I’ll be fine.”  He kissed her tenderly.  “You should go home now.  It’s getting late.”

“Would you like me to come back here after I drop Angie off?” Dingo asked.  “You’ve still got that cot.  I could sleep on it.”

“No, Dad.  That isn’t necessary.  We’ll see each other in the morning.”

Saying goodnight, Rollie watched them leave, hoping that tomorrow would bring the first victory that would lead him to the day he could come out of hiding for good.

Alex gazed through the darkness up at the church on the hill.  The church itself was mostly dark except for the low light that Daniel kept lit in it during the night, but there were still lights on in the parish house.  As she watched, the lights went out.  Sighing, Alex went back into the Widow’s Walk and up to her room.  She had hoped that Daniel would come into town for dinner, but there had been no sign of him all day.  She couldn’t help but wonder if the reason for it was because of the attitude the islanders showed toward him, the ones who knew the truth about who he was and why he was here.

Ever since Dylan told her about what Daniel had said, she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind.  She didn’t want him to leave thinking that the people of Hope Island didn’t want him here.  Strangely, she didn’t like the idea of him leaving at all.  She wanted him to stay.  Now, what did that mean?  She barely knew the man.  Well, that wasn’t really true.  A lot of the things that she had come to know about the man she’d thought was Daniel Cooper were things that were actually true about the man who was here on Hope Island now, the real Daniel Cooper.  And a lot of the things that she’d seen in Rollie Tyler were things that she had a feeling were also in Daniel.  They were more alike than just their facial features.

With a sigh, Alex got ready for bed, hoping that Daniel would come to the Widow’s Walk tomorrow.

Rollie stared at the monitor, watching Robert Dales intently.  The Aussie hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, his mind filled with the thoughts of what they would do if the congressman confessed--and what they would do if he didn’t.  Dales was still lying unconscious on the floor of his bedroom, but Rollie knew that he would soon revive.  Even as he had this thought, the man stirred.  His eyes slowly opened, and he abruptly sat up, staring at the wall across from him, fear on his face.  Seeing nothing there, he seemed to calm down some.  He rose to his feet and went into the bathroom, looking back over his shoulder several times.

“He’s probably hoping it was all a dream,” Rollie said to himself.

Dales was having breakfast when Mira and Frank showed up at the warehouse.

“So, anything interesting happen?” Mira asked Rollie.

“Well, I found out that Dales likes to run around the house and pose in front of the mirror in the buff,” he replied.

“You’re kidding,” Francis said.

A grin spread across the Aussie’s face.  “Yeah, I’m kidding.”

“Very funny, Rollie.”

The Aussie laughed.  He then sobered.  “Other than when he first woke up, Dales has been trying to act like it’s just another Saturday morning, but I can tell he’s nervous.  He keeps dropping things and looking behind his back.”

“Do you think it will take much to make him crumble?” Mira asked.

“No.  I think that one or two more well-timed appearances by the ghost will make Dales fold like a cheap suit, which, by the way, is something he does not have in his closet.  I’d hate to think what he spends on clothes in a year.”

“Yeah, and part of that money is probably from the payoffs he got from the organization,” Frank said, his expression reflecting what he thought of a servant of the people accepting bribes.

The warehouse door opened to reveal Marty and David.

“Good morning, everyone,” Marty said.  “Ted and Gail are on their way.”

“When exactly is Elena going to visit Dales?” Francis asked.

“Nine o’clock.”

Rollie glanced at his watch.  Fifty minutes to go.

“Is Angie coming here or is she going to stay at the loft?” Mira asked.

“She’s going to try to get over here,” Rollie told her.  “She figures that she should be able to lose Loubar’s tail since she’ll be on her skates.  If she’s certain she ditched him, she’ll meet Dad at a prearranged location, and they’ll come over here.”  He turned to Marty.  “Is Whitmore going to make an appearance this morning?”

“And miss his Saturday morning golf game?  Are you kidding?  He gave Elena instructions to call him promptly at eleven with a complete report.”

Ten minutes later, Ted Simmons and Gail Barton showed up.  Twenty-five minutes after that, Rollie was delighted to see Angie walk in through the door with Dingo.

“I see you gave Loubar the slip,” he said as he came forward and hugged her.

“Yeah, no problem.  I’d have liked to see him trying to follow me in a car.”

Rollie smiled and gave her a kiss.  An arm around each other, they walked over to the monitors.

“How’s it been going?” Angie asked, studying the image of the congressman, who was now in his study.

“Good.  He’s definitely on edge,” Rollie replied.  “You should have seen him staring at the wall of his bedroom and the one in the study.  Elena will be there in less than fifteen minutes.”

Angie turned her attention to him.  “Did you get any sleep?”

“Some.  I got enough.”

“Did you eat any breakfast?”

“No, but I’m okay.”

“Well, it’s not okay with me.”  Angie pulled a paper sack out of her backpack and handed it to him.  “Here.  Eat,” she told him firmly.

Rollie sighed.  “Yes, Mummy.”

Chuckles arose from the others there.  “She already sounds like Sarah, and you guys aren’t even married yet,” Frank said with a laugh.

“Har har,” both Rollie and Angie said sarcastically.

While Rollie munched on the croissants Angie had brought, the others quietly chatted until the sound of a doorbell coming from the computer speaker made everyone’s attention turn to the monitors.  They all watched as Robert Dales went to the door and opened it.

“Congressman Dales?  I’m Special Agent Elena Serrano with the FBI,” Elena said, showing the man her ID.

Dales paused a moment.  “What can I do for you, Agent Serrano?” he asked pleasantly.

“May I come in?”

“Certainly.”  The congressman stepped aside, allowing her to enter.  He shut the door behind her.

“Congressman Dales, I’m going to get right to the point,” Elena said.  “We have evidence linking you to a certain underworld organization that operates out of New York.”

Fear flashed for a moment across the man’s face, then he adopted an expression of surprise and denial.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Agent Serrano.  I assure you that I have no connections to any illegal organization.”

“We have the proof, Congressman, enough proof to put you behind bars.”  Elena went on to quote some of their proof.  As she did, Dales’s face slowly lost color.

“Now, we’re willing to make a deal.  Because of your illness, we are prepared to allow you to live the remainder of your life a relatively free man in a protected facility if you give us information on the organization.”

Dales shook his head.  “This conversation isn’t going any further, Agent Serrano, until I contact my lawyer.”

“Your lawyer isn’t going to protect you from the organization once they find out that we’ve got you in custody, Congressman Dales.  And they will find out.  Count on it.”

Rollie smiled.  “Elena sure can play hardball when she has to, can’t she,” he murmured.

Dales face grew even paler.  “Are you threatening me?” he asked, trying to hide his fear.

“No, I’m just stating a fact.  You know as well as I what they’ll do when they discover you’ve been compromised.  If you cooperate, we can protect you.”

“You couldn’t protect me, and you know it,” Dales said, finally dropping his act.  “You couldn’t protect that Ty--”  He cut himself off, but everyone already knew what he’d been about to say.  Rollie felt Angie’s hand slip into his.  He gave it a squeeze.

“Rollie Tyler?  Is that what you were going to say?” Elena said, showing anger on her face.  “Rollie Tyler was a friend of mine.  I was there when the safe house he was in was hit.  He was a good man.  He didn’t deserve to die.  You’re as responsible for his death as the people who killed him.  You could have done something about the organization a long time ago, but you didn’t.  You just closed your eyes to what they were doing and took your little payoffs.”

Rollie nodded in approval at Elena’s tactic of using points that the ‘ghost’ had made.

Elena took a step closer to Dales.  “It’s time that justice is done.  It’s time that the people who killed Rollie, and who knows how many others, pay for their crimes.  Do one good thing in your life, Congressman, before it’s too late.  Do you want to go to your grave with this on your conscience?”

Everyone could see that Elena’s words were having an effect on Dales.  The man had begun to sweat, and his eyes were darting about as if he was expecting something to leap out at him at any second.  He began shaking his head.

“I can’t say anything.  They’ll kill me if I talk.”

“They’ll kill you regardless,” Elena told him bluntly.  “Cooperate, and we’ll do all we can to protect you.”

Dales’s respiration had grown heavy.  “Please give me a few minutes to think.  I just need time to think.”

Elena studied him closely.  “All right, Congressman.  I’ll give you fifteen minutes.  I’ll be waiting outside the door.”

The moment the door closed behind Elena, Dales headed toward his bedroom.

“What if he calls his lawyer?” Dingo asked.

“We’ve rigged the phones,” Rollie explained.  “We can make it so that all he gets is a busy signal or no answer.”

They all watched as Dales went to the closet and pulled out a suitcase.

“He’s making a run for it,” Marty said.

Rollie nodded.  “Okay, Ange.  It’s time to pull out the big guns.”

“My pleasure,” she replied with a smile.

Robert Dales frantically stuffed clothes in the suitcase.  He had to get out of here.  He had to run, hide.  He couldn’t cooperate with the FBI.  He’d be a deadman before the day was out.  Though he knew that he only had a few months left to live anyway, the thought of how the organization would kill him terrified him.  He’d rather live the remaining months of his life in hiding.

Dales went over to the small safe beside his bed and opened it.  He pulled out the money and papers there.  As he stood and turned toward the bed, he let out a cry and stumbled backwards.  Blood was spreading out from under his suitcase and across the bed.  It dripped down the sides to puddle on the floor.  The blood oozed toward him as he backed away from it.

A scream of rage filled the room.  Dales spun around to see the wall ripped apart, like flesh being rent from bone.  The figure of the deadman stepped through the wall, blood dripping from the ruin of his face.  His eyes were glowing red.  He raised his hand and pointed his finger at Dales.

“You!  You have turned your back on the chance to give me justice!  To give us justice!  You coward!”  The deadman stepped threateningly toward him.  “You fear the organization?  You fear what they will do to you?”  He laughed, then took another step toward Dales.  “Fear me, Dales!  I am Death, we are Death, and we have come for you!”

A dozen other people, all hideously maimed, appeared beside the deadman and began advancing on Dales, their clawed hands reaching for him.  The congressman let out a piercing shriek and ran out of the bedroom.  He dashed full-speed down the stairs, almost colliding with Elena, who was in the foyer.

“Get them away from me!” he screamed.

“Who?  What’s wrong, Congressman?” Elena asked.

“Those . . . those . . . those creatures!  They’ve come to kill me!  You’ve got to protect me!”

“I can’t protect you, Dales, not if you don’t help me.”

Dales turned desperate eyes on her.  “I’ll tell you everything, all about the organization!  I’ll tell you everything I know, names, dates, places.  Just please, please get me out of here.”  The man began to sob.  He sank to his knees.

Elena put her hands on the man’s shoulders.  “Okay, Congressman.  Just calm down.  I’ll take you someplace safe where we can talk.”  She helped the man to his feet.  “There’s just one thing I want to know right now.  Who is the head of the organization?”

“Irwin O’Brien.  His name is Irwin O’Brien.”

“There’s nobody above him?”

Dales shook his head frantically.  “No.  No one.”

“Yes!” Rollie shouted.  “That’s what we needed.”  He threw his arms around Angie and gave her a hug.  She was laughing.  Everyone around them was smiling, Frank, Dingo, and Mira patting each other on the back.  They all quieted down to watch Elena lead Dales out of the house.  Rollie stood.  “All right, let’s go.  We need to get the equipment out of the house.”

“Can’t that wait?” Dingo asked.

His son shook his head.  “Elena and Marty came up with a plan on what to do with Dales after he finishes giving us the information on the organization.  Once word of it gets out, we don’t know what the organization will do.  We can’t take the chance that they’ll send someone to the house and that person will find the stuff we set up.  We need to get the equipment out now and remove all traces that it was ever there.”

Donning his beard and moustache, Rollie went with Angie, David, Gail, and Simmons to Dales’s house while Mira, Frank, and Marty waited at the warehouse.  As Simmons stood on watch outside, Rollie, Angie, David, and Gail quickly removed all the equipment and loaded it into the van.  They then cleaned things up.  By the time they were finished, no one could have told that anything out of the ordinary had taken place in the house.

The five of them returned to the warehouse.

“Elena just called,” Marty told them.  “Dales spilled his guts out.  She got it all on tape.  They’re in the safe house.”

“Safe house?  Weren’t you in one of those so-called safe houses when you almost got killed?” Dingo asked his son.

“Yeah, but, this time, nobody else knows that Elena and Dales are in the safe house,” Rollie replied.

“I’d better get over there so that we can get Dales to the hospital,” Marty said.  “We’ll be back once we get him situated in his new accommodations.”  He hurried out the door.

“We have to get going, too,” David said.  “We need to make at least a brief appearance at the bureau.”

The three agents left, saying that they’d be back that afternoon.

“Hospital?” Frank asked in puzzlement.

“Yeah.  It is going to appear that Dales has suffered a severe stroke,” Rollie explained.  “He will be rushed to the hospital, where he will remain until after we bring down the organization and Loubar.  That’s the plan that Elena and Marty came up with on how they could get Dales out of the picture without O’Brien getting suspicious.”

“How did you arrange all of that?” Mira asked.

“The hospital he’s being taken to has been used in similar situations.  Several members of the staff are in on it, and one of them, a doctor that has helped the feds before, is going to give Dales a drug that will simulate the effects of a stroke.  Fake test results and paperwork have already been created to further the illusion that Dales is an extremely sick man.  He will be kept in an induced coma so that no one can talk to him.  We can’t be sure that Dales’s doctor isn’t mixed up with the organization in some way, so we have to make sure that he is made to believe that Dales really did have a stroke.”

“What if Dales’s doctor decides to move him to another hospital?” Frank asked.

“Considering the condition Dales is going to appear to be in, just about any doctor would agree that it would be too risky to move him.  However, if the good doctor gets too pushy or starts to become suspicious, then we’ve arranged for Dales to ‘die’.  We’ve already got autopsy results ready to go.”

“And what if somebody wants to see a body?” Dingo asked.

Rollie smiled and looked at Angie.  “Then we’ll provide a body.  We’ve done it before, right, Love?”

Angie smiled.  “Yeah, but we won’t need that lovely smelling concoction of yours for this body.”

Rollie chuckled.  “Anyway, we’ve got all the bases covered that we could think of.  Above all, it’s absolutely vital that O’Brien doesn’t suspect that Dales talked to the feds.  If he does, he’s going to be more on guard and suspicious of anything that happens.  Not only that, but it will put Dales’s life in danger.”

“When does the next step in the plan take place, Rollie?” Dingo asked.

“Monday night.  And this next part isn’t going to be nearly as easy.”
 

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Alex rested her chin on her hands and sighed.  It was 1:30 and the lunch crowd was nearly gone.  There had been no sign of Daniel so far today.  She was beginning to wonder if she was going to have to go up there and drag him down into town.  She smiled faintly at that thought.

“Maybe he’ll come for dinner,” Molly said, able to tell what was on her friend’s mind.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Well, if he doesn’t, I’ll be sure to say something to him at church tomorrow.”

At that moment, the subject of their conversation came walking in the door.  He paused upon seeing the huge smiles that Alex and Molly graced him with, wondering what the reason for them was.  Had they found out the news somehow?

“Hi, Da . . . Eric,” Alex said, still beaming.  “It’s nice to see you.”

Daniel blinked.  “It is?”  He then seemed to come to his senses.  “Um, I mean, thanks.”

“We missed not seeing you yesterday,” Molly told him.

Daniel stared at them, a perplexed expression on his face.  Okay, what was going on here?  Why were Alex and Molly being so welcoming?  Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he came up to the bar.

“Thank you, Molly.  I was busy writing my sermon a good part of yesterday.  I, um, went for a walk afterwards and . . . bumped into Dylan.”  He looked at Alex, trying to read her expression, hoping that he hadn’t just stepped into hot water.

“Yes, Dylan told me about that and about your conversation,” the redhead said.

“I hope you’re not mad about me talking to him about . . .” he glanced around at the few customers who were still there and lowered his voice, “about you know what.”

“No, I’m not mad.  I’m glad you did.  It sure seems to have done the trick.”

Daniel smiled in relief.  “Good.  I’m glad.”  He looked behind him again.  “I’ve got some good news about . . . Daniel.”

“What’s that?” Alex asked.

“The first part of the plan worked like a charm.  Everything went great.”

“Hey, that is good news,” Molly said.

“It sure is,” Alex agreed.  “So, when does the next part start?”

“Monday night.  They’ll be setting things up tomorrow.”  He smiled again.  “Anyway, I thought you’d like to know.”

“Thanks for telling us,” Alex said.  “Have you eaten lunch yet?”

“No, I was too nervous while waiting for Daniel’s phone call.  I’m famished now, though.”

“Well, go sit down then, and I’ll get a menu.”

Daniel took a seat at the bar, and Alex handed him the menu.  The missionary looked over it and gave her his order.  While she was in the kitchen giving the order to Boris, the last of the customers paid and left.

Alex came back out and moved around to the other side of the bar.  “Would you mind if I joined you?” she asked.  “I haven’t eaten yet either.”

Daniel smiled in surprise.  “No, not at all.”

Returning the smile, Alex sat down.  “So, have you been settling in up at the church?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it settling in.  I won’t be here that long.  But I’m feeling more comfortable in the house.  I love the church.  It’s beautiful.  When I was growing up, I often thought about having a little church somewhere, a congregation of my own to preach to.  In my mind, the church was a bit bigger than this one, but, other than that, it was much the same.”

“So, you always knew that you wanted to be a minister?”

“Pretty much.  My dad was a big part of that, of course, though my perspective on some things changed after. . . .”  Daniel looked over his shoulder to make sure no one had come in.  He then turned back to Alex, looking at her closely.  “Did Rollie ever tell you about my father?”

“No, not really.  All he said was that he was a public figure.”

Daniel nodded.  Though he didn’t know why, he had a sudden desire to tell Alex the whole story.  Molly had gone into the kitchen, so it was now just the two of them.

“Have you ever heard of the Reverend Cliff Cooper?”

Alex’s brow puckered.  “The name sounds familiar.  Wait a minute.  Isn’t he one of those televangelists?”

Daniel nodded.

“So, he’s your father?”

“Yes.”

“I see.  Well, I guess that explains why you always planned on being a minister.”  Alex paused.  “This girl you told us about in the church. . . .”

“Kate.”

“Yeah.  When Stella came to Hope, Rollie told me a little about the argument you had with your father over a woman you’d fallen in love with, but he didn’t give any details.  He didn’t tell me that she had died.  Of course, at the time, I thought he was you.  I mean, I thought he was Daniel Cooper.”  She fell silent.

“And you were wondering what the whole story was,” Daniel guessed.

Just then, Molly came out with Daniel and Alex’s lunch.  After she set it before them, she went and cleared the tables.

“I’m going to start cleaning the rooms, Alex,” she said as she walked by with the dirty dishes.

“Okay, Mol.  I’ll finish cleaning up here as soon as I’m done eating.”

Daniel and Alex ate in silence for a while, glancing at each other occasionally.

“She was Catholic,” the missionary suddenly said.

“What?”

“Kate.  She was Catholic.  That’s why Dad didn’t want me to marry her.”

“Oh.”  Alex didn’t know what to say about that.

“I loved her, but I also loved my father.  I believed that if we just waited a little longer, just another week, I could get him to come around.  But Kate knew that he’d never change his mind.  She asked me to leave with her, but I couldn’t.  I couldn’t break with my father.  So, Kate left without me.  She headed off toward Florida.  She . . .” his voice caught, “she never made it.  She was killed in a car crash halfway there.”  Daniel stared down at his food, his throat tight with unshed tears.

“Daniel, I’m so sorry,” Alex said, feeling an ache in her heart over what he’d gone though.  “I can only imagine what that must have been like for you.”

Daniel drew in a shaky breath.  Still not looking at Alex, he continued.  “I fell into a deep depression after that.  I had another argument with Dad, and I said a lot of terrible things to him, blaming him for Kate’s death.  In a rage, I hopped on that plane to Las Vegas.”  He finally looked at her.  “You know the rest.”

Not even thinking about what she was doing, Alex laid her hand over Daniel’s.  “You still love her,” she said softly.

“I’ll always love her.  Someday, I’ll be ready to love again, but Kate will always be my first true love.”

“Your first true love?  Aren’t people only supposed to have one true love?”

“Maybe for some that’s true.  I think it is for Rollie and Angie.  I have never seen a love as deep as theirs.  But I feel in my heart that I will find someone else someday.  I pray to God that I will.”  Daniel gave a soft sigh.  “What about you?  Do you still love Dylan’s father?”

Alex’s hand left his and picked up her fork.  She speared a piece of food with it.  “To be honest, I don’t know what I feel about Steve anymore.  I haven’t seen him since Dylan was six.”

“He’s never come here?”

“Never.”

Daniel shook his head.  “I just can’t understand that.  How could a guy with such a great family throw it all away for his job?”

Pleased by his remark, Alex gazed at Daniel, thinking that he really was a lot like Rollie Tyler in many ways.

“Oh, by the way, Dylan called me and told me about this last minute overnight camping trip with his friend’s family,” Daniel told her.  “Sounds like fun.  I told him that I’d take a rain check on our bike riding plans.  He said that he’d be back in the morning in time for services.”

“Yes, he was all excited about it.  You should have seen how fast he rushed out of here this morning.”

Daniel grinned.  Then he grew a little wistful.  “Camping out was not something my father had any interest in.”  He shook off his melancholy.  “I’m glad that Dylan is getting to have that experience.”

“Me too, though I wish that it was his father who was taking him camping.”

“I know what you mean.”

They both went back to eating their lunch.

“Well, I’d better get going,” Daniel said after he’d finished.  “I need to get a few things at the general store, then get back up to the church.  I figured that, while I’m here, I’d give Rollie a hand with the repairs that have yet to be made.”

“That’s nice of you,” Alex commented.

“Well, though he doesn’t know it, Rollie helped me quite a bit in coming to terms with Kate’s death and the break up with my father.  Watching him put his life back together after he’d lost everything gave me the strength and confidence to believe that I could build a new life, too.”

Alex nodded her head, understanding.  “Well, I’m glad you’re here while he’s gone.”

Daniel smiled brightly.  “Thanks, Alex.  It’s nice to hear you say that.  For a while, I thought--”  He cut himself off and shook his head.  “Okay, I really need to get going now.  Thanks for having lunch with me.  It was very nice.”

The missionary said goodbye and headed toward the Islander General Store.  As he did, he noticed a couple of Rollie’s parishioners smiling at him warmly.  They nodded and said hello, then continued on their way.  It was the first time he could remember them doing something like that.  Up until today, whenever he encountered one of the people who knew the real story about him and Rollie, he was greeted politely but with reservation.  Puzzled again by the change in the attitude toward him, he walked up the steps of the general store and went in the door.

“Well, hello, Reverend Cooper,” Ruby greeted brightly.  “How nice to see you.”

“Um, hi, Ruby.  It’s nice to see you, too,” Daniel responded.  And another person who seemed very happy to see him all of a sudden.  Daniel was getting more curious by the moment.

Just then, Bonita came down the stairs.  Her smile matched that of her mother’s when she saw the missionary.  “Hi, Eric.  How are you today?”

“Good.  Great in fact.”

“I’m glad to hear that.  So, what can we do for you?”

“I need some building supplies.  I’m going to do a little work on the church for, uh, Daniel while he’s gone.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Bonita said.  “Just tell us what you need.”

Daniel gave them a list of the things he needed.  A while later, purchases in hand, he headed back up the hill, feeling happier than he had since Rollie left for New York.

The neighborhood was dark and silent as Rollie, Mira, and Francis pulled up to the curb a hundred yards from Irwin O’Brien’s house.

“This is really risky, Rollie,” Frank said.  “You’re going to be completely unprotected up there.  If someone spots you. . . .”

“They won’t, Francis.  I’ll be careful.”

“What about dogs patrolling the grounds?” Mira asked.

“O’Brien doesn’t have any dogs.  He hates them.”

“That’s a lucky break.”

Rollie gathered up the things beside him on the back seat and got out of the car.  He silently made his way to the power pole feeding electricity to O’Brien’s house and began to climb it, pausing periodically to listen for indications that he’d been heard or spotted.  Finally reaching the top, he attached a device to the power line.  He then attached a different device to the telephone line.  Once that was done, he looked over beyond the wall surrounding O’Brien’s estate.  The area around the house was lit with lights here and there.  In the light, the Aussie could see armed men patrolling.  Tomorrow, he would be going into that house, and when he did, there was a very good chance that Irwin O’Brien would be there.

Deciding that was not a good thing to dwell on, Rollie carefully made his way back down the pole and to the car.

“That was quick,” Mira said.

“Uh huh.  The real work begins tomorrow.”

“Then I guess we’d better all go home and get some sleep.”

“Good idea,” Rollie said.  ‘I just hope that I can sleep,’ he added silently.

The next morning, Rollie was back at O’Brien’s place, along with Angie, Elena, Mira, and David.  This time, they were a full block away, wanting to be sure that no one spotted them.

Angie turned on the equipment that was set up in the van.

“We all set?” Rollie asked after a couple of minutes.

His fiancée ran a few tests.  “Yep, we’re green.”

“Then let’s do it.”

Angie hit an icon on the computer screen.  A block away, the device that Rollie had attached to the power line activated.  Several inches of the cable melted as if it had been hit by a huge surge of electricity.  Immediately, all the lights in the house went out as the power was cut off.  Men drew guns, expecting a sudden attack.  When the minutes passed and nothing happened, they began to relax.

Irwin O’Brien came out of his office, looking irritated.  “What is it?  Some kind of power failure?” he asked, a gun still in his hand.

“Must be,” his right-hand man, Jerome Kline, replied.

O’Brien looked out one of the windows suspiciously.  There was no sign of this being anything but an ordinary power failure, but he still wasn’t convinced.

“Call the power company and see what they say,” he ordered.

Kline nodded and went to the phone.  He looked up the number for power outages and called it.

In the van, the computer warned them that a call was being placed.  “That’s it, Rol,” Angie said as she intercepted the call and answered it, identifying herself as an employee of the power company.

“Yeah, we’ve got a power outage here,” said a male voice.

“What is your name and address, sir?” Angie asked.

The man replied, giving her O’Brien’s name.

“Hold on, please,” Angie told him.  She waited a few seconds, then, “We don’t have any indication of a power failure in that area, sir.  It’s possible that it is the line going to your residence.  We can have someone out there tomorrow morning.”

“Hold on,” the man said.  They heard the muffled sound of a conversation, then the guy came back on. 

“Tomorrow’s not good enough.  We’re not going to sit here without power all day and night.  Get someone over here today.”

“Just a moment, sir.  I’ll see what I can arrange.”  She waited a full minute.  “All right, sir.  We’ll have a crew out there between one and 1:30.  Will someone be home?”

“Yes,” the man replied.  “Make sure the people you send have something to prove they’re who they claim to be.”

“Um, okay, sir, that won’t be a problem.”

“Good.”  The man hung up.

Rollie grinned.  “O’Brien’s as paranoid as ever, I see.  Let’s hope that a city power truck, uniforms, paperwork, etcetera are enough to convince them that we’re who we say we are.”

“What if they want to see your driver’s licenses?” Angie asked.

“Good point.”  Rollie looked at Elena.  “How long would it take for your people to whip up a couple of fake ID’s?”

“Not long.”

“Good.  We’d better do that.  With O’Brien as paranoid as he is, he just might ask for ID.”

“I gotta tell you, Rollie.  I am really nervous about you going into that house,” Mira said.  “It’s like Daniel walking into the lion’s den.”

“Yeah, but I’ll have David here to protect me, right, mate?” the Aussie said, slapping the FBI agent lightly on the back.

“Right, Rollie.  We can risk our butts together,” David replied, grinning.

“Just remember that I want that butt of yours back safe and sound,” Angie said, worry evident on her face.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” her fiancé said with a soft smile.  “I won’t let anything happen to it or the rest of me.”  He turned to Elena.  “Okay, let’s get going.  We’ve got things to do before we come back here.”

At ten minutes after one, Rollie and David, both heavily disguised, pulled up in front of O’Brien’s estate in a power truck.  They got out, acting like nothing out of the ordinary was going on.  As they walked toward the power pole, carrying equipment, one of the men on the other side of the gate called to them.

“Hey!  What are you doing?”

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Rollie responded with a New York accent.  “Our job.  You guys called us about a power failure.”

The man got on his radio and spoke with someone for a few seconds, never taking his eyes off Rollie and David, his hand on his weapon.  The conversation ended.

“Okay, go ahead,” the man told them.

“Well, thank you so much for letting us do the job you called us to do,” Rollie said sarcastically.  He strode with David to the pole.

“Aren’t you kind of pushing it?” David whispered.

“No.  The more obnoxious I act, the less suspicious I’ll appear.  Besides, it’ll work in with something I read in O’Brien’s profile.”

Rollie made his way up the pole.  When he got to the top, he made a show of examining things.  He gave a whistle.

“Whoa, Jim.  You should see this,” he called down to David.

“What is it?” the agent asked.

“Something that now looks like a melted glob of black licorice.  There must have been a lot of juice pouring though this thing.  We’re going to have to replace the line and check the wiring inside the house for overload damage.”  Rollie made sure to speak loud enough that someone patrolling the grounds might overhear him.

The Aussie disconnected the destroyed power line from the pole and climbed down.  He then cut off a section of the cable and headed with David back to the gate.  They walked up to it.

“What’s that?” the man who had addressed them earlier asked, looking at what Rollie held.

“That is a part of what’s left of the line going into your house.  Apparently there was a major power surge through it.  We’re going to have to replace the line and check the wiring in the house.”

The man shook his head.  “You can replace the line, but you can’t go in the house.”

Rollie shrugged.  “Fine by me, buddy.  If you want to take the chance that the wiring inside the house was damaged by the overload and will short out the next time you turn on your hot tub, causing a nice fire, that’s your business.”

The man glared at him for a moment, then got on his radio again.  After a short conversation with a lot of pauses, Rollie and David heard the voice on the walkie talkie tell the man to let them in.

Rollie returned to the pole and connected a new power line to it, making sure that the electricity was off.  He then draped the other end of the cable over the wall that surrounded the estate.  That done, he took the truck up to the house as David waited beside the power pole.

Rollie pulled up before the front door and got out.  He couldn’t help but notice that he was under the intense scrutiny of five men, all armed with semi-automatic weapons.  A tall man with a scar under his right eye came out of the house and approached him.  He motioned to one of the men with guns, who came forward and patted Rollie down for weapons.  When Rollie came up clean, the man then opened and went through the big toolbox the Aussie had.

“How long is this going to take?” the scarred man asked after the search of the toolbox was completed.

“First, I gotta finish replacing your power line, then we have to scan all the wiring in the house from top to bottom,” Rollie replied.  “It ain’t gonna be quick.”

“Well, then get on with it,” the man snapped.

Rollie got busy with the cable from the pole.  Once he was finished hooking it up, he contacted David, who climbed the power pole and turned on the flow of electricity through the line.  Lights came on it the house.  Returning to the truck, Rollie pulled out a box with meters on it, still under the watchful gaze of O’Brien’s men.  Seeing David walking up the driveway, accompanied by yet another man, the Aussie grabbed up his toolbox, the item he’d just gotten out of the truck, and a short ladder and went to the door.  It was opened for him by one of the bodyguard types.

Once inside, Rollie knelt before the closest electrical outlet, opened the toolbox, and pulled out several items, which the bodyguard looked at closely.

“What is all that stuff?” he asked.

“The latest in scanning equipment.  It can detect damage to electrical wiring, measure the flow of current through it, and catch any possible problem areas,” Rollie explained, hoping that the guy wasn’t an amateur electrical engineer who’d catch him in a lie.

“Oh.  Well, whatever.  Just don’t try anything funny.”

Rollie let out a snort.  “Funny?  I’m having to work on a Sunday afternoon when I’d rather be home getting it on with my girlfriend.  I’m not having any fun here, pal.”

That seemed to make an impression on the guy.  He actually cracked the ghost of a smile.  Just then, David came in carrying another toolbox.

“Hey, Jim.  Why don’t you check the basement while I get started on this floor,” Rollie said to him.

“Sure, Al.”  David went off to the basement, one of O’Brien’s men accompanying him.  Rollie glanced at the guy with him, then got to work.  He removed an outlet plate and pulled out the electrical outlet behind it.  As he shone a flashlight into the outlet case, pretending to check for scorch marks and melted wiring, he slipped a tiny device inside.  Replacing the outlet and the plate, he then removed the plate covering the wall switches.  In between the two switches, he placed a larger device.  Once the plate was back on, he began pretending to scan the wiring behind the wall with a unit that actually did detect electrical current, but nothing more.  Slowly, he made his way around the foyer, planting one more device behind an outlet and another one in a second wall switch.  Rollie then moved on to the next room.  He was just finishing the second room when David came back up from the basement.

“You want me to check upstairs, Al?” he asked.

“Yeah, go ahead,” the Aussie replied.

Rollie continued going from room to room.  Eventually, he came to the room that, according to the FBI’s information, was Irwin O’Brien’s office.  The guy with him knocked on the door.  After a moment, it opened, and Rollie came face to face with the man who had taken away his life as Rollie Tyler.  Careful not to show any emotion, he met the man’s gaze.

“Um, he needs to check your office, Mister O’Brien,” the bodyguard said.

O’Brien’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.  He stared penetratingly at Rollie.  “What’s your name?” he asked in a voice with a faint Irish accent.

“Al Davis.  What’s it to ya?” Rollie replied.

O’Brien kept staring at him.  “You have ID to prove that?”

Grateful that Angie had thought of the ID, Rollie gave an exasperated sigh and pulled out his wallet.  He showed the fake driver’s license to O’Brien.  “Happy now?”

Ignoring his remark, O’Brien pushed the intercom button.  “Kline?”

“Yes, Mister O’Brien?”

“Call the power company and check to see if they have an Albert Davis employed there.  And have them give you a detailed description.”

“What is this?  You paranoid or something?” Rollie asked, pretending to be angry.

O’Brien looked at him.  “You’re not afraid of me,” he said.

Rollie gave a short laugh.  “I ain’t afraid of nothing, buddy.  I grew up in the worse part of Brooklyn.  Gang bangers carrying guns and knives was something I saw every day of my life.  You were risking your life just walking to the next door neighbor’s.  I’ve been shot, stabbed, nearly burned up in a fire, and seen two murders and more muggings than I can count.  Now I’m in this fancy house checking the wiring.  What have I got to be afraid of here?  So your men carry guns.  Big deal.  I’ve got two guns at home just like ‘em.”

O’Brien looked him over, an expression almost of approval on his face.  This was something that had been in the profile on him that Rollie read.  One of the things O’Brien respected the most was fearlessness.  Another thing he respected was complete candidness.  Rollie’s little speech had shown both qualities.

Kline’s voice came over the intercom.  “The power company confirmed that they do have an Albert Davis working for them.  His description matches the man who’s here.  They also confirmed that he is on a job in this area.”

“Good.”  O’Brien turned back to Rollie.  “How long is it going to take you to check the office?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes, if I don’t find any problems.”

“Get on with it then.”  O’Brien moved aside and let Rollie and the bodyguard enter.  He then left, shutting the door behind him.  Rollie began doing what he had been doing throughout the house.  At one point, he brushed by the bodyguard.  As he did, he pricked the guy’s neck with a tiny needle hidden in the ring he was wearing.  The needle was so small that the man barely felt it.  Continuing on, Rollie went to another outlet.  After a few moments, he glanced over his shoulder to look at the bodyguard.  The man’s face had grown slack, and he was staring sightlessly down at the floor.

“Hey, buddy, you okay?” Rollie asked.  There was no reply.  Quickly moving into action, the Aussie set up the ladder beneath the furnace register in the ceiling.  It had been a stroke of luck that the registers were in the ceilings rather than near the floor on the walls or, worse, in the floor.  It made his job a lot easier since he wouldn’t have to worry about furniture getting in the way.  It would also help in another way.

Hurriedly removing the screws, Rollie pulled off the register cover.  He attached a magnetic latch and specially designed hinges to the cover.  Setting it aside, he pulled out the drawer in the toolbox and scooped out the stuff inside the box.  He popped open the false bottom.  One of the holograph projectors lay inside, broken down into sections.  Rollie put the sections in the furnace duct and assembled the unit.  He then set up a mini camera in the duct.  Because they were unable to work unobserved, and because of the danger that the minicams would be found, he and David could only place cameras in the places where the two holograph projectors would be, here and in O’Brien’s bedroom.  The remainder of the second floor would have to go without video coverage.  For the rest of the first floor, they would be relying on something else.

Hurrying back down the ladder, Rollie picked up the device with meters on it and opened it.  Inside was Bluey.  Rollie took him out and turned him on.

“Hey there, Blue Boy.  Ready to go to work?” he whispered.

Bluey nodded and wagged his tail but remained silent, having been given an earlier command not to bark.  Rollie set him in the duct and put the cover back on, attaching it with the hinges and latch he had installed.

Looking at his watch, Rollie quickly shoved all the tools back into the toolbox and set the ladder back where it had been.  He injected the bodyguard with another substance, then went to the outlet he’d been at before and acted like only a few seconds had passed.  A small sound behind him alerted him to the fact that the bodyguard was reviving.  He glanced over his shoulder and saw the guy blink slowly and bring a hand to his face.

“Hey, you feeling all right, buddy?” Rollie asked.

“Yeah, um, I’m fine.”

Rollie nodded and went back to what he was doing.  A short while later, he was finished with O’Brien’s office.

The rest of the bottom floor was gone over quickly.  Back in the foyer, he met up with David.

“Everything’s clear, Al,” the agent said.

“Good.”  Rollie turned to O’Brien, who was with the man named Kline.

“The wiring all checked out.  You’re lucky.  You could have had a major electrical catastrophe in here because of that surge.”

O’Brien just nodded.  “Give the invoice to Mister Kline here, and he’ll take care of it,” he said.

“There’s no charge,” Rollie told him.  “The surge was due to faulty equipment belonging to the power company.  It’s our responsibility to make sure that damage to personal property wasn’t sustained.”

“All right.  Then, if you don’t mind, we have things to get back to.”

“Suits me just fine, pal.  I wasn’t even supposed to be working today.”

Rollie and David loaded up the truck and unhurriedly drove down the driveway.  As they passed through the gate, they both breathed a sigh of relief.  They quickly went to where Angie and the others were waiting.  Angie gave him a hug as he entered the van.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

“Okay.  It was an experience standing face to face with O’Brien.  If he only knew.”

“Well, he did exactly what you said he’d do,” Angie told him.  “He’s having his men scan the house top to bottom for bugs.”

“Won’t the scanners detect the things we planted?” David asked.

Rollie shook his head.  “Scanners will only detect active electronic devices.  All those things we planted are now turned off except for the receivers that are waiting for Angie’s signal to turn the units back on.  The receivers are encased in lead, with the exception of the antenna.  The scanners won’t be able to detect them.”

“What about Bluey?” Mira asked.

“Blue will go further down the air duct and put himself in sleep mode until eight tomorrow morning.  The scanners won’t see him, especially through the metal of the duct walls.”

“You think of everything, don’t you,” David said admiringly.

“No, not always,” Rollie said quietly, too quietly.  Angie looked at him, knowing what he was thinking about.  She slipped her hand into his.  He squeezed it gently and gave her a small smile.  He then turned back to David.  “Did you have any problems setting the holograph projector up in O’Brien’s bedroom?”

“No, not at all.  My watchdog was a good little zombie and just stood there and let me do it.”

Rollie smiled.  “That’s quite the drug we used.  Is it legal?”

“There are different levels of legality, Rollie,” Marty said, also smiling.  “It’s not something you’ll find at your neighborhood pharmacy, but it has been approved for use in . . . these kinds of situations.”

“Uh huh.”

“Did you find the safe?” Elena asked.

“Yeah.  It’s in O’Brien’s office behind a sliding panel,” Rollie replied.  “By the amount of juice that’s going to it, I’d say that it’s got a lot of safeguards, probably a booby trap or two.”

“And the computer?”

“Looks like just an ordinary system on the outside.  I doubt that O’Brien’s dumb enough to have any incriminating records on it.  Those are somewhere else, possibly in the safe.  If things go as planned, we’ll find out where.”  He gave a small sigh.  “Let’s get out of here.  I think we should all spend the rest of the afternoon and evening relaxing.  Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Daniel smiled and waved goodbye to another parishioner.  The Sunday services had gone beautifully.  It had been wonderful to preach to a roomful of people, knowing that all of them had enough to eat, decent homes to live in, and proper medical care.  He hadn’t realized until now how much working in the poverty of Africa had worn down his spirit.  This time on Hope Island was going to do him a lot of good, especially since everyone’s attitude toward him had changed.  Not once throughout the morning had he gotten the impression that the people listening to his sermon were wishing that he was Rollie.  In fact, quite a few people had come up to him afterwards to tell him how much they enjoyed the service.  Daniel was really beginning to understand why Rollie loved this place so much.

Thinking about Rollie brought back Daniel’s concern for his twin.  He knew that this afternoon, Rollie would be putting himself in a lot of danger by going into Irwin O’Brien’s house.  He was expecting a call from the Aussie to let him know how things went.  If he didn’t call, it meant that something went wrong.  Daniel wouldn’t relax until he received that call.

“That was a nice sermon, Daniel,” Callie said as she came up to the minister.

“Thank you, Callie.”  Daniel studied the journalist.  Other than Dylan, Callie was the only person among those that knew the truth whose attitude hadn’t changed toward him.  She had been the only adult who seemed to accept his presence on Hope Island without any reservations, and that hadn’t changed.  That thought bred a suspicion in his mind.

“Callie, I have a question for you.  When I went into town yesterday, I began noticing a change in Rollie’s parishioners and the others who know the whole story.  Up until then, they’ve been rather standoffish towards me.  It’s not that I didn’t understand why.  I did.  It’s just that it was kind of . . . disconcerting.  Anyway, all of a sudden, that seems to have changed, and I’d like to know why.  Did you . . . say something to them?”  Daniel looked at the expression that grew on the journalist’s face.  “You did say something, didn’t you.”

Callie shook her head.  “No, it wasn’t me.  It was Alex.”

Daniel’s brows rose in shock.  “Alex?”

“Yes.  It seems that Dylan mentioned something about how unhappy you were about the way people were acting, and she felt so bad about it that she told everyone they should be nice to you, laid a real guilt trip on them.”

Daniel’s eyebrows lifted even higher.  His eyes went to Dylan, who was with some of the other children.  He hadn’t realized that his confession to the boy would result in this.  He had to admit that it made him feel good that Alex cared enough to do something like this.  He turned back to Callie.  “So, what did you say when Alex came to you?” he asked, smiling faintly.

“I told her that she shouldn’t have needed an eleven-year-old to make her come to her senses and that the rest of the islanders shouldn’t have needed her to give them a lesson in how they should have been acting.  Daniel, I’m sorry that you were made to feel unwelcome.  That isn’t the kind of place Hope Island is.  I’m not going to make excuses for everyone, but we all love Rollie, and it’s difficult to adjust to the fact that he may never come back to us.”

“I know, Callie.  I really do understand.  Thank you, though, for accepting me right from the start.  That’s meant a lot to me.”  His eyes looked at the remaining people, then out over the beauty of the scenery.  “You know, I think I’m going to miss this place when I leave.”

Callie was silent for a moment.  She didn’t like the thought that Daniel would be leaving them after everything was over.  Though she’d known him for only a short time, she had come to like the missionary quite a bit, seeing in him so many of the things that had endeared to her the man who had come to them with his name.

“You wouldn’t consider staying?” she asked tentatively.

Daniel shook his head.  “My life is in Africa now.  I have work there that is doing a lot of good, or at least I pray it is.”

Callie nodded, careful not to show her disappointment.  “Well, I’d better get home.”  She paused.  “I’m glad that you’re here, Daniel.  No matter what happens, I’ll always be glad that you came to Hope.”

Daniel’s throat tightened.  “Thank you, Callie.  I’ll always be glad, too.”

The minister watched her leave.  A while later, everyone else was gone as well.  Giving a small sigh, he went into the church to tidy up and put away the hymnals.  Afterwards, he went to the house and read for a while until it was times to fix lunch.  He ate it on the deck, feeling the sense of peace that looking out over the bay and the distant mountains never failed to give him since coming here.

Not wanting to leave the house for fear of missing Rollie’s phone call, Daniel remained there, doing some minor repair work on the place.  He got so involved in the work that the phone startled him when it finally rang.

“Hello?” he answered it.

“Hey, Daniel.  It’s Rollie,” said an extremely welcome voice.

“Rollie.  It’s good to hear from you.  I guess this means that things went all right.”

“Yeah.  We’ve got O’Brien’s place wired for video and sound--and, of course, a few other things.”

There was something in Rollie’s voice that troubled the missionary.  “Is something wrong?”

“No.  It’s just that . . . seeing him, seeing O’Brien like that and knowing that he was the one who took everything away from me. . . .  It wasn’t easy.  I was angry.  For a minute, I wanted to . . . hit him, to make him pay.”

“And now you’re ashamed of those feelings.”

Rollie sighed.  “I’m a minister, Daniel.  I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“You’re also a human being, Rollie.  Just because you’re a clergyman, it doesn’t mean that you’re immune to the normal human emotions that everyone else feels.  O’Brien did something terrible to you.  Under those circumstances, I may have reacted in the very same way.  I’d probably have wanted to punch his lights out, too.”

Rollie gave a laugh.  “How is it that you always seem to find just the right words to say to make me see things more clearly?”

“Because I know you so well, that’s why,” Daniel replied, smiling.

“Yes, you do, don’t you.  You could probably blackmail me with the things you know.”

Daniel laughed.  “Same with you, Rol.  I’ve told you things that even my best friend Arnie doesn’t know.”  There was a long pause on the other end.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.  It’s just that Angie's the only person who calls me Rol like that.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t even think about it.”

“No, it’s all right.  I . . . liked it.”

Daniel smiled again.  “I’m glad.”  There was another short silence.  “So, tell me all about your little tour of O’Brien’s place.”

Rollie gave Daniel the details on what happened, the missionary listening intently.  The Aussie then told him about what happened with his father.

“I’m glad your father knows.  This is something you shouldn’t have even considered keeping from him.”

“Yeah, I know.”

”So, tomorrow is the big day.”

“Yes.  I’m afraid, though, that O’Brien may prove to be a lot tougher nut to crack than Dales was.”

“What happens if he doesn’t do what you want him to?”

“Well, what Dales gave us is enough to put O’Brien behind bars, as well as a number of others, but what’s to stop someone else from taking over the organization like O’Brien did when Thurston and Fleming were taken down?  If that happened, the contract on my life would probably stay in effect, especially if they come to suspect that I had something to do with O’Brien’s arrest.  The organization has to be destroyed completely.  We need to get everyone involved.  O’Brien is the only one who knows all the names and all the secrets.”  There was a pause.  “Which is the reason why I’ve come up with a backup plan in case something goes wrong.”

Daniel abruptly got a feeling of dread, not liking the tone of Rollie’s voice.  “What is this backup plan?”

Quietly, his twin explained it to him, Daniel’s feeling of dread increasing with every sentence.

“I know I don’t have to tell you how dangerous that is, Rollie,” he said after the Aussie was finished.  “What do Angie and the others think about it?”

“They don’t know about it yet.  You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“Rollie, you have to tell them.”

“I will, but not unless there’s no choice but to implement it.  There’s no sense telling them if the other plan works.”

“Rollie, don’t do it.  Even if your primary plan fails, please don’t take that chance.  It’s too risky.”

“I have to, Daniel.  I have to do everything I can to end this thing.  I can’t bear the thought of running again, even less the thought that Angie would have to leave everything behind and be on the run, too.”

Daniel was silent.  He didn’t know what to say to convince the Aussie that this backup plan was far too dangerous.  He decided to try another tactic.  “Rollie, what would God want you to do?”

“Daniel, please don’t,” his twin said, his voice strained.

“You know that He wouldn’t want you to put your life in unnecessary danger.”

“Unnecessary?  Would it be better to let this organization continue to operate?  What about the lives that may be lost in the future if it isn’t brought down?  I can’t have that on my conscience any more than you could.  I couldn’t just go off and hide knowing that there was a chance I could have stopped it if I’d just done something more.  I’ve lived the past nine months with all the regrets of not doing everything I could have, not thinking of all the possibilities.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This.  This whole thing with Loubar and the organization.  It might never have happened if I’d just had more foresight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I should have known.  I should have anticipated how Loubar might get away that last time and planned for it.  I should have known that the organization would put a hit out on me and taken precautions.  All this, me having to run, Angie’s life being ruined, it’s all because I screwed up.”

Daniel sat in silence for a moment, then, “Rollie, that is so stupid I can’t believe you could even think it.  First of all, from what you told me, Loubar’s escape was a fluke, a stroke of luck.  You couldn’t possibly have anticipated it.”

“Couldn’t I?  He’d done it three times before.  First, surviving getting shot and the fall off that bridge, second, somehow escaping from that car before it was hit by the train, then, third, managing to get away in the lake despite Angie emptying an entire clip into the water.  It’s like the man has nine lives.  If I’d been better, we would have caught him the last time.  Then there was the contract on my life.  I should have known they might do that.”

“How could you have known, Rollie?  You told me yourself that you and the cops had no idea of the size and power of this organization.  You didn’t know about their connections to the government.  You didn’t know that they were like a miniature version of the syndicates.  You thought that they were just a group of criminals with a little more power and influence than normal.  Didn’t you tell me that everyone had thought that once the ringleaders were behind bars, anyone else involved would just fade into the woodwork?”

“Yes, but--”

“No.  No buts.”  Daniel sighed.  “Look, Rollie.  I can’t tell you what you could have done differently or if there was anything you could have done differently, but I can tell you this.  Have you considered the possibility that what happened is what was supposed to happen?  You know as well as I that we can’t see God’s plan.  Sometimes, some of the worse things that happen end up having good things come from them.  Think about the good that has come from this, Rollie.  Think about how you’ve helped the people here on Hope Island.  They would never have met you if you hadn’t had to go into hiding.  Think about how this has healed your relationship with your father.  Think about that baby that’s growing inside Sarah Gatti, a baby that might never have come to be if you hadn’t disappeared.”  Daniel took a deep breath.  “And think about how you’ve helped me.”

“You?  I didn’t help you.  You were the one who helped me.”

“Rollie, in those months that we were together, I told you so many things, but I didn’t tell you everything.  I didn’t tell you about what Kate’s death really did to me, how much I was still suffering when we met.  I didn’t want to burden you with my pain, not when you had so much of your own.  I told you that I’d decided to go to Africa and become a missionary, but the truth was that I was so lost that I didn’t know what I was going to do.  My faith had been sorely shaken.  I’d lost the only woman I had ever loved and then lost my father’s love and respect.  I’d screwed up my life, and Stella’s life, and probably hurt my mother more than I can bear thinking about.  Before you came, I was beginning to think about quitting the ministry entirely.”

Rollie drew in his breath sharply.  “I had no idea.  You should have told me this.”

“And put that burden on you?  I couldn’t do that.”  Daniel smiled faintly.  “Besides, it all changed the day I met you.  When I found out what had happened to you, what you were going though, it made my troubles seem tiny in comparison.  I realized that it was time for me to stop feeling sorry for myself and do the job I’d vowed to do when I became ordained: to bring glory to God’s name and help people in whatever way I could.  You made me see the truth.  Then, later, as you began to really try to build a new life for yourself, it made me see how incredible the human spirit can be.  It gave me the will and courage to build my own life anew and to know that as long as there is life there is hope.  I thank God I met you, Rollie.”

There was a very long silence, then, “I thank God I met you, Daniel,” the Aussie said, his voice trembling.

They talked a while longer, quietly speaking of things that had happened since they’d seen each other.  After a while, Daniel told Rollie about what had been going on with the islanders before Saturday and how he had been feeling.

“I’m sorry, Daniel,” Rollie said.  “They’re good people.  I know that they didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know, Rollie.  They are good people.  They just care a lot about you, and I ended up representing the thing they feared: that you would never come back.  But everything is fine now.”

“How so?”

Smiling, Daniel told his twin about what happened with Alex.  As he finished, Rollie chuckled.

“You should feel honored, Daniel.  Alex has warmed up to you a lot faster than she did me.”

Daniel laughed.  “Well, you softened her up for me.”

They both laughed at that.  The laughter slowly faded.

“I’d bet