When Rollie and Frank returned to the loft, they were greeted by a smiling Angie.

“Guess who called,” she said.

“Who?”

“Jimmy Chu.”

“Jimmy Chu?  Isn’t he that actor who does those martial arts movies?” asked Francis.  “You helped him out with some trouble while he was filming one of them, right?”

“Yeah, Eye of the Dragon.  He had some problems with an assassin who was working for the Chinese Triads.  What did Jimmy want?”

“Well, I guess he feels as if he still owes you something, Rollie.  A friend of his has an estate with this huge garden, and they’ve invited us to have the wedding there.”

“Really?  Wow, that’s great.”  Rollie suddenly thought of something.  “He called you on the phone?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay.  I got the scrambler finished.  We can talk on the phone now without worrying.”

“Great.  That’ll save a lot of time.  So, why is this friend of Jimmy’s willing to have the wedding at his estate?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe Jimmy called in a favor.  I called Charlotte and told her about the situation.  Of course, now she’s worried sick.  She’s going to call this evening.  Oh, and Sarah called.  Her friend isn’t available to do the catering.  Neither were the other people she called.”

“So, what are we going to do about food?”

“I don’t know.  We’ll figure out something, Rol.”  Angie looked down at the package under his arm.  “Did you get a tux?”

“Sure did,” he replied with a smile.  “The jacket needs altering, but the shirt and pants are fine as is.  Mira should be here pretty soon, shouldn’t she?”  Angie nodded.  “Well, I’m starving.  Have you guys eaten yet?”

“Yeah, a little while ago.”

“Care to join me, Francis?”

“I’d like to, Rollie, but I have to get back to the precinct to give an update to the captain.  He allowed Mira and I to be your babysitters only on condition that we give him regular reports.”

After Francis had gone, Angie joined Rollie in the kitchen as he fixed himself some lunch.  She was thinking about the other reason why their last job with Jimmy Chu had been so memorable.  That was the time that Rollie had been reunited with the first woman he had really loved, Taya Kwan.

Rollie had stopped what he was doing and was just staring down at the cutting board.

“I did love her, Angie.”  He looked up at her.  “But what I felt for her was nothing like what I feel for you.  It couldn’t come close.”

Angie gazed at him for a long time, seeing the love and earnestness in his eyes.  She then stepped forward, and they came together in a long kiss, which was finally interrupted by the phone.  Angie answered it.

“It’s Mira.  She’s almost here,” she told Rollie.

A couple of minutes later, the detective came in.  Angie grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

“Hold on a second, Ange.  She’ll be out in a minute, Mira.”  Taking the hint, Mira went on out to the car.  Rollie looked closely at Angie’s face.  “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know.  I just got this feeling that you were worried about something.”

Angie stared at Rollie, wondering how he could have picked up on that.  She’d thought that she was successfully hiding it.  Then she remembered what Rollie was capable of doing now.  Sighing silently, she realized that it was going to be next to impossible to hide anything from him now.  She was also beginning to wonder what he hadn’t told her about the things that he could do.

“It’s just something that I want to talk to you about tonight.  There’s nothing to worry about,” she told him.

“Are you sure?”

Angie kissed him tenderly.  “Yeah, I’m sure.  I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?”

“Okay.”  He watched Angie and Mira leave, then turned to Mangela, who was coming down the stairs.  “I have this feeling that something is up and that you have something to do with it.”

Mangela looked at him closely.  “What do your instincts tell you?”

Rollie searched the Aborigine’s face for several seconds.  Suddenly it came to him.  “She told you about Loubar.”

Mangela nodded.

“Did she tell you everything?  Did she tell you what he did to her and how?” Rollie couldn’t keep the pain out of his voice.

“Yes.”

Rollie sat down, covering his face for a moment with his hands.  Mangela sat beside him.  The Aussie looked at him in anguish.  “He could have done anything to me, and I could have taken it, but when he hurt her like that. . . .  He used me to hurt her, Mangela.  He used my face.  It should never have happened.  I should have stopped him somehow.  I should have been more alert, on my guard against him, but I fell right into his little trap and wasn’t there to stop him.  He keeps beating me, Mangela.  No matter how hard I try to catch him, he always gets away.  Even now, he’s out there somewhere, planning some other terrible revenge against us.  I keep saying that we’re going to get him this time, but I’m so afraid that I’ll fail again, and that, this time, someone is going to die because of his hatred for me.”  Then he remembered that someone had already died, the woman whom Loubar had left in Rollie’s bed.  If it hadn’t been for the man’s need for revenge against Rollie, she would still be alive.  The thought tore at Rollie’s conscience, making him feel responsible for her death.  The Aussie’s eyes closed, and he swallowed tightly.

“Why does he hate you?” Mangela asked gently.

Rollie returned his attention to his spiritual father.  “Because I’ve screwed his plans up so many times.”

“Then you have beaten him, haven’t you.”

“In that way, yes.  But he’s still free.”

“There are all kinds of freedom, Rollie.  His body may be free, but you’ve put him in a kind of prison all the same.  He’s imprisoned by his hatred for you and by the knowledge that every times he’s come up against you, you’ve ruined his plans.”

“I never thought about it like that.”

“You should.  He has as much reason to fear your skills as you do his.”

Rollie stood up and walked a few feet away.  For the first time, he began to look at the situation from a different viewpoint, that of Victor Loubar.  When Loubar had first impersonated Rollie, he had assumed that Rollie would be done away with by Jacques Devillon, and that would be the end of things.  But that wasn’t what happened.  Instead, Rollie became directly involved in the case and stopped Loubar from getting the smart grenade.  Loubar was foiled, possibly for the first time in his career.  Then, months later, Rollie again proved himself to be good enough to stop the arms dealer.  Twice, Loubar had come up against Rollie, and, both times, the Aussie had ruined his plans.  And then there was what happened the last time.  Loubar deliberately went after Rollie, and though part of his plan succeeded, everything he had set up to frame Rollie for the assassination, including the assassination itself, fell apart, again because he underestimated what Rollie--and Angie--could and would do.  A third time Loubar had come up against Rollie and lost.

Did Loubar fear his skills?  Rollie doubted it.  The man’s personality wouldn’t allow him to fear an opponent’s abilities.  But there was no doubt that Loubar hated the fact that he’d been beaten.  That knowledge was probably eating away at him night and day.  The fact that he had sought revenge against Rollie proved that the Aussie had gotten under his skin.  Was it hatred of Rollie that was driving Loubar or a need to prove himself to be better and smarter?  Or was it both?  If Loubar was being driven by a need to prove himself to be better than Rollie, every time he failed to do so would make that need stronger.  He would likely begin to grow careless, taking more chances.  But how far could he be pushed before he’d snap and simply killed Rollie?  The Aussie realized that probably wouldn’t happen.  Loubar wanted to defeat Rollie.  He wanted to make him suffer and know that Loubar had destroyed him.  Simply killing him wouldn’t be enough.

Loubar could have killed Rollie at any time after the Aussie had foiled his plans to sell the bio weapon to Brink, but, instead, he had rather foolishly tried to frame Rollie for the assassination of the Chinese trade minister.  And, if looked at from a purely logical standpoint, it had been a foolish thing to do.  Loubar knew that Rollie had friends among the police and FBI who would likely seek to help him.  He must also have realized that there would be a lot of questions about the evidence he had planted that seemed to indicate that Rollie had traveled all over the world as a hired assassin under the pseudonym of Rick Blaine.  Even with all the things that Loubar had planted to frame Rollie, there would still have been enough holes and unanswered questions that an in-depth investigation could have cleared Rollie, especially considering that Elena Serrano and other agents at the bureau knew about Loubar successfully posing as Rollie before.  And then there was Angie.  Loubar had revealed himself to her.  Hadn’t he realized that Angie would never allow Rollie to be hunted or imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit, no matter how much she might blame him for the rape?

Rollie didn’t know what Loubar had thought or planned in regards to what Angie would do, but the truth was that Rollie had been a very poor choice for the one to be framed for the assassination.  There were dozens of others whom it would have been easy to construct an airtight frame against.  Loubar had chosen Rollie only because it was a way to get his revenge.  He had allowed his personal desires get in the way of doing his job as he should have, in a way that would guarantee success.

Rollie turned to face Mangela, knowing that he now had the knowledge and ability to stop Loubar once and for all.

“I know how I can stop him, Mangela.  I’ve figured out what makes that bastard tick, and I’m going to use it against him.”  He sat back down and searched the Aborigine’s face.  “These things that have been happening, the dreams, the stuff with Angie.  You know that I haven’t . . . that I left the ways of the People behind a long time ago.  Why is all this stuff happening now?”

“You may have left behind the ways of the People, but that did not change what is within you.  A musician may stop playing music, but the songs are still inside him.  Your songline has always been as it is now.  You have just been hiding from that part of you since you left us.  It’s just that, now, you cannot hide anymore.”

Rollie got up again and walked into the kitchen area.  “I won’t go into the Dreamtime, Mangela.  I’ll try to understand what my dreams meant, and I’ll use the other things that have been happening in whatever way I can to help catch Loubar, but I won’t return to the way it was before.”

Mangela rose and went to the Aussie.  “I cannot force you to walk a path that you are not willing to travel.  That decision is yours alone.  But the longer you reject these things that are a part of what makes you who you are, the more you cheat yourself of being all that you can be.”  He turned away.  “I’ve been inside for too long.  I’m going to go out for a while.”

“Sure.  There’s no reason for you to stick around here all day.”

After the Aborigine had left, Rollie returned to his solitary lunch.  He found his mind drifting back to Taya Kwan.  He’d first met her in Hong Kong four years ago.  He fell hard for her and wanted to bring her back to the U.S., but she failed to meet him at the airport.  He returned to Hong Kong a while later to look for her, but never found her.  He was an emotional wreak for a long time afterwards.  Then, two years later, she suddenly came back into his life, and the old feelings started returning.  She was now in the witness protection program and Rollie would never see her again.  Yet, strangely, when they had parted the second time, the depth of sadness he had expected to feel hadn’t been there.  He had hurt for a while, but the pain had disappeared quickly.  Rollie wondered if, even then, some part of him had known that there was someone else who was the true love of his life.

Rollie finished eating and cleaned up.  He then took the pants and shirt he’d purchased upstairs.  He slipped on the pants and was just putting the shirt on when the sound of a warning buzzer filled the air.  Rollie rushed downstairs to see which sensor had been tripped.

“Blue, give me a picture on camera eight.”  An image popped up on one of the monitors.  Rollie looked at it--and smiled.  “Well, what do you know.  He was right.”

Rollie went to the door.  The two officers on duty had their hands on their guns, but had not drawn them.

“It’s okay, guys.  This is a visit I was kind of hoping for.”  He walked toward the vehicle that had just stopped in front of the loft.  The door opened and Dingo Tyler stepped out of the white Caddy, behind which was his trailer.

“Rollie, my boy!  Good to see you!”  He shook Rollie’s hand, then, unexpectedly, pulled him close in a hug.  He looked over at the police car and the two cops.  “What’s going on here?”

“Trouble, as usual.  So, what brings you back to the States?  Mangela said that you’ve been home for the last few months.”

“He’s the reason I came.  Gave me some vague comment that you were in trouble.  I guess he was right.”

Father and son went inside.  Rollie studied his father.  For one brief moment, his paranoia about Loubar rose to the fore, but he shook it off.  Loubar was much too tall to pose as his father.  The man was good, but not that good.  It would be humanly impossible for Loubar to shrink his body to match Dingo’s height.  So, unless the arms dealer had hired someone to pose as Dingo, which Rollie doubted, this truly was his father.  Still, to be safe, Rollie asked his father a question that only Dingo would know the answer to.

“Um, Dad?  I know this is kind of an odd question, but could you tell me what Mum told you that day you lost her necklace in the poker game?”

Surprised and puzzled, Dingo replied, “She said a lot of things.  Nearly peeled the paint off the walls, she did.  I was lucky to get out of the house with my skin still intact.”  He smiled fondly.  “She always did have a bit of a temper.  I guess the thing that sticks in my mind the most is when she said that she didn’t want me to try changing you to be like me.  She said that you were better than that, that you were going to be something special.  As usual, I didn’t listen to her.”  He looked at the expression on Rollie’s face.  “I didn’t know you knew about that.  I thought that you were off with the Aboriginal kids somewhere.”

“I was, but I came back early.  I heard Mum yelling and snuck inside.”

“Why ask me this now?  What’s all this about, Rollie?  Why are those cops sitting outside like a couple of guard dogs?  Did you tick somebody else off by screwing up their criminal plans?”

Rollie smiled.  “Yeah, I guess you could say that.  But this guy’s been after me for quite some time now.  He just hasn’t had any luck yet in getting me.”

“Well, of course not.  You’re a Tyler, aren’t you?  It would take a lot more than one guy to beat one of us.”  Just then, Dingo’s gaze traveled down to Rollie’s open shirt front, and he saw the scar.  A look of distress flashed across the man’s face.  “I bumped into an old friend of ours when I got back here.  You remember Wade Markham?  He asked how you were doing, if you’d recovered fully.  When I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about, he told me about you being shot.  He said that you almost died.”  Dingo’s eyes met Rollie’s.  “I didn’t know, Rollie.  If I had, I would have been here for you.  You do know that, don’t you, Son?”

Deeply touched by his father’s concern, Rollie replied softly, “Yeah, Dad, I know you would.”

Dingo immediately cheered up and changed the conversation to something less serious.  “Those are pretty fancy clothes you have on there.  Are you going to a wedding or something?”

Rollie grinned.  “Yeah, I’m going to a wedding, all right--mine.”

Dingo’s eyes opened wide.  “You . . . you’re getting married?”

“On the twentieth.”

Rollie’s father looked stunned.  Then the expression changed to a wide grin.  He pulled Rollie into a hug and patted his back enthusiastically.  “Well, congratulations, Son.  This is great news!  So, when do I get to meet the lucky lady?”

“You’d better sit down for this, Dad.”

Puzzled, Dingo, took a seat.  Rollie settled in another chair.

“You’ve already met her.  It’s Angie.”

Dingo stared in shock at Rollie for an interminable time.  “Little Angie?”

“She isn’t all that little anymore, Dad, in case you didn’t notice the last time you saw her.  She is very much a woman, has been for quite a while now.”

Dingo gave his head a slight shake.  “Yeah, of course she is.  It’s just that you two almost grew up together.  Well, it was really she who grew up with you.  I thought that you were just friends.”

“We were, but things changed.”

“I guess they must have.  Well, this is a surprise.”  Dingo smiled again.  “So, my boy is getting married.  This calls for a celebration.”  Dingo went outside and came back in a few minutes later carrying an unopened bottle of scotch.  Once Rollie turned the sensors back on, his father handed the bottle to him.  Rollie’s eyes widened when he saw the date on the label.

“I won it in a bet a while back,” Dingo explained.  “I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.  I can’t think of an occasion more special than this.”

Though it was really too early for a drink, Rollie opened the bottle and poured two glasses.  He sipped the scotch, appreciating its flavor.

“So, the twentieth, huh.  I guess I got back just in time.  Just leave everything in my hands, my boy.  I’ll turn this into the biggest party you’ve ever seen.”

Rollie smiled at his father’s comments.  Then he grew serious.  “Uh, there are some things I need to tell you, the reason why those cops are outside.  Things are a lot more serious than I let on.”  He proceeded to tell Dingo about his history with Victor Loubar.  When he got to the part about what the man did to Angie, he only said that Loubar had attacked her.  It wasn’t his right to tell his father about the rape.  He ended the narrative with the body Loubar had left in Rollie’s bed.

All of Dingo’s joviality had vanished.  For the first time in his life, Rollie saw real anger in his father’s eyes.  Dingo didn’t say anything for a long time, then, “Bloody hell!  This guy needs killing, Rollie.  Prison wouldn’t be enough for the likes of him.  Have you got a plan to nail the bastard?”

“I’ve got a couple of ideas.  The problem is that Loubar knows me too well.  He knows what I can and have done to catch other criminals.  It won’t be easy to trap him.  I’ll have to try something he wouldn’t expect, use something he doesn’t know I have.”

“Which is?”

“That’s a long story, Dad.  Let’s just say that it has something to do with things that Mangela and the others taught me when I was with them.”

“So, what’s that old fox up to anyway?  When I saw him last, he was being his usual indecipherable self.  I never could understand half the things he said.”

Rollie smiled.  “That hasn’t changed.  He came here because he sensed I needed help.  You know Mangela.  He’s always known things that you didn’t think he could know--and often what you didn’t want him to know.”

“Don’t I know it.  That old Aborigine’s down right spooky sometimes.”

Rollie went up and changed out of the tuxedo.  Back downstairs, he found his father deep in thought.  He silently watched the man.  Since an early age, he’d had two fathers, one that had sired him and one that had informally adopted him.  In many ways, he had felt more like a son to Mangela than Dingo, mostly because his real father had spent so little time with him.  He hadn’t felt truly close to Dingo for a very long time.  And that had been okay, at least that’s what he’d told himself.  Rollie’s life had taken a different course than Dingo’s, and there was little room in it for the man’s gambling and scheming.  When he’d helped Dingo out of his trouble with the bookie, Nicky Vincent, he’d thought, for a while, that things would change.  But Dingo had gone right back to the way he was before.  It had been two years since that last visit.  Rollie had finally given up on him completely.  Now, he found that he was beginning to hope again that things could be different between them, that they could spend some real time together.

“Uh, Dad?  About the wedding.  Angie and I asked Mangela to give her away, and I asked Francis Gatti to be my best man.  He’s been a really good friend.  But, um, I’d really like it if you stood by my side, too.”  Rollie’s eyes shifted to the floor.  For the first time in a very long time he felt like a child seeking his father’s affection.

There was a long moment of silence and Rollie’s gaze went back to Dingo.  There were tears in his father’s eyes.  The man swallowed strongly, as if trying to clear a lump in his throat.  He came toward Rollie, put his arms around him, and held him in a tight embrace.  Rollie’s arms went around his father as tears came to his own eyes.

They at last drew apart.  Dingo’s eyelids blinked rapidly, clearing the tears.  He smiled and patted Rollie’s shoulder.  Clearing his throat, he said, “I’d be proud and honored, Son.”

Rollie smiled brightly, joy filling him.  After so long, he felt like he was finding his father again.

“This Francis Gatti.  Isn’t he that short cop who’s Leo McCarthy’s partner?  Where’s Leo?  You and he have been mates for years.”

Rollie’s joy vanished.  “He’s dead.  He was killed over a year ago.”

“I’m sorry, Rollie.  I didn’t know.  I wish I’d been here for you.”

“Thanks, Dad.  I appreciate that.”

Father and son spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on what had happened in their lives since the last time they saw each other.  Dingo had been in Australia for the past eight months.  The man was a bit skimpy on the details, but Rollie got the impression that his father was doing the same things there that he’d done for as long as Rollie could remember, traveling from town to town, getting into one scheme after another.  Even when Rollie’s mother was alive, Dingo had spent more time away than he had at home.  It was because of this that Rollie had turned to Mangela, finding in the Aborigine the father that he so desperately needed.  Now, both of his fathers had come back into his life at the same time.

Just then, the phone rang.  It was Angie and Mira.  They were a block away.  Rollie turned off the sensors to allow them to pass.  As Angie came in, she was unexpectedly greeted with a hug from Dingo.  Surprised, she looked at Rollie questioningly.

Rollie grinned.  “I told him about the wedding.”

“And I must say, Angela, that I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have as a daughter.”

“I. . . .  Thank you, Dingo,” Angie stammered.

Dingo turned to Mira and held out his hand.  “G’day.  Dingo Tyler’s the name.”

Mira took the offered hand.  “Mira Sanchez.”

“So, are you a friend of Angie’s?”

“Uh, Mira’s a detective in the NYPD, Dad.  She’s a friend, too.”

“Oh, really?  Well, she’s a lot prettier than you’re other police friends, Rollie.”  He turned back to the detective.  “So, Detective, are you helping my son out with his trouble with this Victor Loubar bloke?”

Angie looked at Rollie in surprise.  “You told him about Loubar?”  Another emotion came into her eyes.

Rollie knew instantly what Angie was thinking.  She was afraid that he had told Dingo about the rape.  He looked at her and shook his head very slightly.  That was all she needed.  Across the distance separating them, her eyes said thank you.

“I’m trying to.  We’ve been after Loubar for a long time,” Mira replied to Dingo's question.

“So Rollie said.  You’ll get him this time, now that the Tyler boys are back together.”

“Did you find a dress, Angie?” Rollie asked.

“No, not yet.  We’re going to try some more places tomorrow.  I just hope whatever I get doesn’t need a lot of alterations.”

“There’ll be time,” Rollie assured her.  He had a sudden urge to passionately kiss her, but curbed it because of the others in the room.

Mira looked at the two of them, seeing the expression in Rollie’s eyes.  “Well, uh, I think it’s time I went back to the precinct.”

Dingo had also recognized the look.  “Yes, and I think I’ll go look up some old friends.”

After they were gone, Rollie put his arms around his fiancée.  “You know, I think we just might make it.”

“Of course we’ll make it, even if I have to wear a gunny sack.”

“Now that would be a sight.  And just how far down would this sack go, Miss Ramirez?”  His hand slid down her buttocks to her thigh.

Angie pulled him closer.  Rollie’s lips came down onto hers.   He pulled her up to his level, and Angie’s legs encircled his hips.  She started moving against him, rubbing her lower body against his.  Rollie groaned as his body responded to the touch.

“God, Angie,” he gasped.  “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you.  I’ve got just so much self-control, you know.”

Angie smiled, glorying in the power she possessed over him.

Rollie saw the smile.  “Why you little vixen.”  He carried her up against a wall, and his mouth came down on hers again, searching deeply.  One of his hands slid up under her shirt and undid the catch to her bra.  He pushed the material back and ran his hand across her breast, his thumb stroking the nipple.  This time, it was Angie who groaned.  Rollie pulled away slightly, a smile now on his face.

Angie looked into his eyes and whispered, “Touché.”

Rollie chuckled.  His amusement faded as his eyes locked upon Angie’s.  His hand remained where it was, the fingers stroking her.  His respiration increased along with Angie’s.  As his other hand began to slide under her top, warning bells went off inside his head.  Swallowing deeply, he separated from her, pushing aside his desire.  Angie turned her back to him, refastening her bra with shaky hands.

Rollie moved into the kitchen and got a drink of water.  “So, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked.  As soon as the words were out, he immediately sensed the change in Angie’s  mood.  He went back over to her.  Her back was still to him.  Turning her around, he put a finger under her chin and raised her head, but she refused to meet his eyes.

“This is really serious, isn’t it.”

Angie nodded her head.

“Hey, don’t you know that you can tell me anything?”

Angie’s eyes finally met his.  Rollie saw fear there, fear and a deep pain that made his heart ache.

“Come here.”  He led her over to the couch.  Wrapping his arms around her, he lowered her head onto his shoulder.  “Tell me,” he murmured.

“We never talked about it, about what he did, not really.”

“I know.  I knew that you didn’t want to, and I didn’t want to push, force you to relive it all.”

Angie raised her head and looked at him.  “But I did relive it, Rollie, over and over again.  That first day, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  After what happened in Central Park, I told myself that I wasn’t going to let it bother me, that I was going to be fine, but I wasn’t fine.  I saw . . . I saw you burn the bed, Rollie.  I knew that you were hurting too, but I just couldn’t talk about it.  After a while, it got better.  But then, when Lambert tried to rape me, it brought it all back.”  She drew in a ragged breath, trying to hold onto her self-control.  “The morning after it happened, when he revealed who he really was, his eyes were so cold, like it meant nothing to him, nothing that I’d given him everything, and he’d taken it all away.  If he’d raped me as himself, if he hadn’t worn the mask, it would have been bad enough.  But what he did. . . .  It was more than raping my body.  He raped my soul.  He took all the wonderful things I’d felt and made them ugly and dirty.”  Her voice cracked as the tears began to fall.

Rollie cried out in anguish and held her tight against him, rocking back and forth.  “It’s my fault,” he whispered brokenly, tears pouring down his face.  “It’s all my fault.  God, I wish he’d killed me instead.”

Angie pulled back and took his face in her hands.  “No, Rollie, no.  Don’t you ever say that, do you hear me?  Ever!  It was not your fault!  Never once, not for one instant, did I think that.”

“But if it hadn’t been for me, Loubar wouldn’t have had a reason to want revenge.  If it hadn’t been for my carelessness, he wouldn’t have caught me.  I would have been there to protect you.”

“You listen to me, Rollie Tyler.  Nothing Loubar has done is your fault.  He was the one who invaded our lives when he assumed your identity and pretended to be you to commit a crime.  He put your life in danger by doing that.  Were you supposed to just sit by and do nothing about it?  You had to try and stop him.  And you did stop him.  It was only by some cruel, freak chance that he survived the gunshot and that fall.  Then, you beat him a second time, and, afterwards, he wanted revenge because, for the first time in his life, he’d come up against someone who was better than him, and he couldn’t stand that.  That day he took you prisoner so he could pose as you, frame you, and get to me, you couldn’t have known he was going to do that.  You couldn’t spend every day of your life looking over your shoulder for him.  If . . . if he had killed you instead of going after me, I would have died, Rollie.  I’d rather go through it all again than lose you.”  Angie caressed his cheek with her hand and gave him a faint smile.  “I’m going to be all right.  I’ll get though this, as long as I have you.”

Rollie pulled her close, kissing her forehead.  “You’ll always have me, Ange.  Always.”

He held her for a long time, stroking her hair, his cheek pressed against her forehead.  Deep inside him, a cold, hard determination formed.  ‘You’re going to pay this time, Loubar,’ he silently vowed.  ‘No matter what it takes, you’re going to pay for hurting her.  I’m going to make you wish you had killed me.’
 

CHAPTER SEVEN -- PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE

When the phone rang, it startled both Rollie and Angie.

“Speakerphone, Blue, and activate the scrambler,” the Aussie called.  “Tyler F/X,” he then greeted as the call connected.

“Rollie, it’s Charlotte.  Angie told me about what’s going on.  Are you two all right?”  There was concern in the woman’s voice.

“Yeah, we’re okay, Charlotte,” Rollie told her.  “Everything is going to be fine.”

“I can’t believe you’re still going on with the wedding what with that guy out there.  Shouldn’t you postpone until after he’s been caught?”

“Victor Loubar has ruined our lives enough.  We won’t let him ruin this, too.  Angie told you about the change in schedule, right?”

“Yes.  I’m afraid that it would be next to impossible to find a place for the reception with that short a notice.  You’re going to have a hard time finding a place for the wedding, too.”

“Well, that problem may be solved, but we have another one.  We can’t find a caterer,” Angie said.

“A caterer?  Well, why don’t I just do the food?”

“No, Charlotte.  We can’t ask you to go through that much trouble,” Rollie said firmly.

“You didn’t ask, I offered.  I’ve done it before.  I did the food for my sister’s wedding and for a friend’s, and according to what Angie said, your wedding is going to be a lot smaller than theirs were.  I’d love to do it, Rollie.”

The Aussie paused a long time, looking at Angie, who shrugged.  “Well . . . only if you promise me that you’re not going to put so much time and effort into it that it becomes a hassle.”

Charlotte laughed.  “I promise.  I’ll need to know how many guests you are expecting.”

“Um, maybe fifty or sixty, no more than that,” Angie told her.  “We need to keep it small.”

“Okay, I’ll plan for sixty then.  Better to have too much food than too little.”

“Be sure to keep account of how much you spend so that we can reimburse you,” Rollie said.  “Would you like some money in advance?”

“No, that’s not necessary.  We’ll worry about that later.”  There was a pause.  “How serious is this situation, Rollie?  Angie said that this guy has gone after you before.”

The Aussie exchanged looks with his fiancée.  “He’s bad news, Charlotte.  Loubar is as evil as they come.  But we’re going to get him this time.  He won’t get away.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Rollie and Angie said goodbye to Charlotte, then they called some of the people they wanted to be at the wedding.  After that, they got to back work on the White Light post production stuff.  As they worked, Angie considered bringing up what she and Mangela had talked about regarding his mother, but that was a conversation they needed to have when there was no chance that they’d be interrupted by someone.

Happy with how much they’d gotten accomplished, the couple broke off for dinner.  They ate mostly in silence, each of them busy with their own thought.  They were nearly finished when Angie abruptly shook her head and looked at Rollie.

“I just don’t get it,” she said.  “Why did Loubar send you that package and leave that woman’s body here?  If he hadn’t done those things, we wouldn’t have known he was watching us or listening in on us.  He could have continued his surveillance and made his plans, and we wouldn’t have known about him until it was too late.  Well, we wouldn’t have known if it wasn’t for Mangela coming here and warning you.”

“He did it for the same reason that he didn’t keep me a prisoner in that warehouse in Chinatown until after the assassination had taken place, the same reason why he let you know that it was him rather than allowing you to keep believing that it had been me you’d slept with.  He wanted me to know that he was going to bring me down and that he’d hurt you.  He wanted me to suffer throughout those hours, alone, hurting, and helpless to stop what was going to happen.  It’s the same way now.  He wants me to see my doom looming before me, to know that he is going to destroy me and all I love.  It is a kind of psychological warfare, except that Loubar isn’t using it as a tactical maneuver.  He’s doing it because he wants me to suffer as much pain and fear as he can make me.”

“You sound so certain.”

“I am certain.”  Rollie laid down his fork and looked at her closely, watching her expression.  “Ange, do you think it’s possible for someone to suddenly be able to get inside somebody else’s head?  I don’t mean reading their minds or anything like that.  I mean all at once being able to understand someone so well that you just know what they’ll do and not do, how they’ll react to something, what drives them.”

Startled by the question, Angie stared at Rollie for a moment.  “I . . . don’t know.  I know that profilers with the FBI are able to determine what a criminal is like and what drives them by studying the things they do when they commit their crimes.  Is that what you mean or, um, something else?”  Was he talking about her?

“Kind of, but it’s more than that.  Mangela and I were talking today while you were gone.  He said something that made me see things in a new way, about Loubar.”

“What things?  What new way?” Angie was starting to get nervous.

“I know him now.  A long time ago, I realized that he has no conscience at all, no feelings of remorse for what he does, that he’s incapable of feeling those things.  But I didn’t really understand him until now.  I didn’t understand how being beaten by me has changed him, how what I’ve done, what we’ve done, has influenced him and altered the way he does things.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s screwing up, Ange.  He’s letting his need to get me affect his life and how he does his job.  I have power over him, and I didn’t even realize it.”  He gave a bitter laugh.  “All this time, I felt helpless in a way when it came to Loubar.  I was able to stop his plans, but I couldn’t successfully plan against him, not like I have with other people we went after.”

“But what about when you posed as Willem Brink to draw Loubar out into the open?”

“It didn’t work, did it.  Oh, we got him out in the open, but he was smart enough to know that I might not be the real Brink.  He caught me in the deception and almost killed me.  And he got away.  But, now, things are different.”

“How?”

“I know that he won’t kill me until he’s gotten what he wants, to defeat me, destroy me, crush me like a bug.  I know that, if pushed, he will take chances, make mistakes in his attempt to get what he wants, what he needs.  I know that I can push his buttons and make him do things that he would normally be too smart and cautious to do.”

“Rollie, I don’t think I like what you’re saying.  You can’t underestimate Loubar.  You can’t think that you control him.”

“I don’t, Angie.  I know how dangerous he is.  I know that he’s the most evil, the most deadly enemy I’ve ever come up against.  But I’ve finally realized that he’s just a human being who makes mistakes, big mistakes, mistakes he makes because of me.  That gives me an edge.  I can plan against him now--and I can get him.”

Angie stared at Rollie.  She was afraid that he was going to do something that would backfire and get him killed.  Loubar scared her, terrified her.  Because he had no conscience, he would slaughter hundreds to achieve his goal, and his goal was clearly to get revenge against Rollie.  Her imagination kept picturing the Aussie dead at Loubar’s hands.  It was her deepest fear, that Loubar would kill Rollie.  She’d rather be dead herself, have Loubar rape and torture her a dozen times than lose Rollie.

“Rollie, please don’t do something that will get you killed,” she pleaded.  “I just couldn’t take it if that happened.”

The Aussie took her hands in his, leaning close to her.  “Angie, listen to me.  I am not about to underestimate what Loubar is capable of doing.  I’m going to be as careful as I can be.  But I am tired of letting him control the game.”  His expression changed, remembering another time when he’d referred to the situation with Loubar as a game.  “I’m sorry.  This isn’t a game.  It never was.  But I have to get him this time.  I have to do whatever it takes to put him away for good.  I have to get him out of our lives forever.”

Angie cupped his cheek.  “I know, Rol.  I just don’t want you to pay the price for getting him.”

Rollie pulled her close and held onto her tightly.  He drew away as he sensed Mangela’s approach.  “Mangela’s here,” he said quietly as he stood.

“Do you have any idea how spooky that is?” Angie asked, trying to lighten the mood.

The Aussie grinned.  “Sorry, Love.  Next time, I’ll let you be surprised.”

A few moments later, Mangela came through the door.  By the way that he looked at them, Rollie and Angie guessed that the Aborigine could tell they had talked about Angie’s feelings.  He nodded his head slightly, as if satisfied.

“You were right about my father, Mangela.  He showed up this afternoon,” Rollie commented.

“I knew that he would come if he knew you were in need of help,” the Aborigine said.

Angie turned to her fiancé.  “I should get going.  My fridge is almost bare.  I need to stop and do some shopping on the way home.”

Rollie nodded.  He’d prefer to have Angie stay at the loft until Loubar was caught, but he knew that the arms dealer would not strike against Angie yet.  That would not be in his plans until the end.  The fact that he had hurt Angie the way he did before meant that he knew how much Rollie cared about her.  He would know that killing her would be the ultimate act of revenge, especially now.  He would save it for his final move before he killed Rollie himself.  And he wouldn’t strike at her now to physically hurt her either.  Doing that could ruin his plans since it might drive Rollie and Angie into going into hiding.

Though it wasn’t a game to Rollie and Angie, it was to Loubar, a chess game.  Right now, the assassin was just moving his pawns around the board, trying to drive his opponent into making bad moves, create a weakness in Rollie’s emotional and mental defenses.  When he finally struck, it would be in a way that would tear Rollie apart.  The Aussie was almost certain that Loubar had chosen the wedding to be that moment.  It made perfect sense.  Nearly all the people Rollie loved would be there.  It would be a time of joy for him and Angie.  What better moment to rip Rollie’s life apart and show him that he wasn’t as good or as smart as Loubar?  And the arms dealer probably knew that there would be precautions and security measures taken at the wedding, more than any other time.  It would satisfy him even more to show Rollie that he could beat him despite all of Rollie’s attempts to protect himself and the people he cared about.

Just then, a thought occurred to the Aussie.  Though Loubar might not do something yet to physically harm Angie, he might do something to cause her emotional pain.

“Ange, about the cops that have guard duty there at your apartment while you’re gone.  We know what they look like because Mira showed us the pictures of the cops they chose for all the guard assignments.  I’m going to call her and find out which one is there right now.”

“You think that Loubar would impersonate one of the cops?”

“Not here at the loft.  There are two cops on duty here, which means that he’d have to impersonate one of them for the entire shift, and he would be in danger of being exposed if the other cop asked a question he couldn’t answer.  Also, as soon as the precinct realized that the cop in question never returned after his shift at guard duty, red flags would go up all over the place, and we’d know what happened.  Loubar would achieve nothing, unless he did it solely for the purpose of putting a scare into us.”

“Then why is my apartment any different?”

“For one thing, there’s only one cop there.  Loubar could safely eliminate him and pose as him, do whatever he wanted to do in your apartment, then wait for you to come home.  Once you were there, he could leave since he would have accomplished what he’d set out to do.”

“Which is what?” Angie asked, feeling scared.

“Do something that will hurt you emotionally, knowing that it would hurt me, too.”

Angie stood in silence, afraid that Rollie might be right.  That fear made her angry.  She couldn’t even go into her own apartment now without the fear that Loubar had been there.  “So, what do we do?”

“Once I know what cop is supposed to be at your apartment now, I can find out from Mira something personal about him.  All you’d have to do is ask him a question.  If he answered wrong, you would know that he was an impostor.  You’ll have two other cops with you, the ones who will be in the squad car keeping an eye on you on as you go home.  Tell them what’s going on, and they will both go with you to your door and be ready for any trouble.”

“I really hate this, Rol.”

“I know, Ange.  I do, too.”  He called Mira and found out which cop was on duty at Angie’s apartment.  He looked through the photos that Mira had left with them and found the right one, showing it to Angie.  He then asked Mira to tell them something personal about the officer.  Armed with the information, Angie left, followed by a squad car.

The Aussie turned to Mangela, noticing the way the man was looking at him.  “What?”

“Things have changed.”

Rollie just stared for a moment, then he nodded, realizing that the Aborigine had picked up on Rollie’s changed attitude toward Loubar.  “Yeah.  He may be a genius.  He may be the worse enemy I’ve ever had, but he’s also human.  He’s not infallible.  That’s already been proven.  I’m not afraid of him anymore.  I fear what he may do, but I don’t fear him.  I know that I can defeat him.”

Mangela nodded.  “Then you have become stronger.  Though you should respect an enemy’s skills and strengths for how they can be used against you and fear the harm that he may cause, you should not fear him.  Fearing him gives him power over you.”

“I know.  He has had power over me, over my life, Angie’s life.  But that is at an end.  No more.  Victor Loubar is going down, all the way down.”

Angie nervously walked toward her apartment, a cop on either side of her.  Their hands were resting on their guns, ready to draw them at a moment’s notice.  The officer standing at her door was watching them approach.  He had been leaning up against the wall, but now he was fully at attention.  Angie and her entourage stopped before him.

“Hello, Officer . . . Karns.  How are things going?” Angie asked, trying to act casual.

“All right, Ms. Ramirez.  There’s been no activity, except for the other tenants.  A Mrs. Beatty kept wanting to feed me chocolate chip cookies and milk, saying a, uh . . . growing boy needed nourishment.”  He looked embarrassed about the “growing boy” remark.  According to his file, he was twenty-eight years old.

Angie laughed, relaxing a bit.  “That’s Mrs. Beatty.  Anyone under forty-five is a child in her eyes.  I . . . understand that you and your wife recently had a baby.  Your third?”

“Second, ma’am.  It would have been three, but. . . .  Well, that’s nothing that need concern you.”

Angie smiled, knowing that this was the real Officer Karns.  He did, indeed, have only two children.  His wife had miscarried two years ago, which is what the officer had referred to.

“Well, congratulations.”

The cop smiled.  “Thank you.”  He began to move aside, then paused.  “Um, the password, ma’am?”

“Oh, sorry.”  Angie glanced at her watch.  It was five to eight.  “Lucky.”

Nodding, the cop stepped aside.  Angie took the bag of groceries to the kitchen and filled the barren refrigerator.  She then went to her computer, noticing that she’d gotten several e-mail messages.  One caught her eye.  It had an attachment, a big one.  It said that it was from Jack Traber at the studio, but what would he be e-mailing her here?  Anything to do with work would be sent to the loft.  Angie stared at the e-mail for a while, then clicked on the attachment.  Everything on her computer was backed up, so if it was a virus, she wouldn’t have to worry about losing anything.

The screen went blank, then a picture came up.  Angie gasped and took a hasty step back.

“Hello, Angela,” Loubar said.  “I just wanted to send greetings and remind you of the last time we were together.”  The image changed to her and Loubar disguised as Rollie making love in Rollie’s bed.  Angie felt bile come to her throat.

“That was quite a . . . memorable night,” Loubar’s voice continued, taunting.  “You are a very passionate woman, Angela.  I wonder if you will show that same passion to Tyler on your wedding night.  He will always remember, though, that I had you first.”

“Oh, God,” Angie choked, nausea welling up.  Sobs catching in her throat, she desperately shut down the computer and ran into the bathroom.  Feeling like she was going to throw up, she ripped off her clothes and plunged into the shower, turning the water on so hot that it hurt.  She leaned back against the wall and wept, hating Loubar and hating what he had done to her.

Rollie was quietly sharing a pot of tea with Mangela, talking about old times, the good times he’d had with the People before it all fell apart.  By silent agreement, they did not mention anything about the Aborigine's role as Rollie’s teacher in the beliefs and ways of the People.

They were laughing about an incident with a pesky kangaroo when Rollie abruptly sat bolt upright.  “Angie,” he whispered.  “Mangela, something’s wrong.  I need to get to Angie.”

Not questioning Rollie’s instincts, Mangela stood with him.  “Go.  Loubar will not set foot in here.”

Rollie quickly turned off the sensors and showed Mangela how to turn them back on.  He was then out the door, yelling for one of the two officers on guard to come with him.  They jumped into the Acura and were speeding down the road before the cop had time to question what was going on.  Minutes later, they screeched to a halt in front of Angie’s apartment.  When Officer Karns saw the two men running toward him, he immediately pulled his gun.

“Figure!” Rollie called quickly, which was the password for eight o’clock.  He pounded on the door.  “Angie?  Angie, can you hear me?”  When there was no reply, he used his key and opened the door.  He and the cop who’d come with him rushed into the room, followed by Officer Karns.  Both cops now had their guns in their hands.

“Angie?  Where are you?” Rollie called.  That’s when he heard the shower.  “Stay here,” he ordered the cops.  He headed to the bathroom.  “Angie?”

“R-Rollie?” came her voice from behind the door.  The Aussie could feel her anguish.

“Angie, I’m coming in.  I don’t care if you’re not decent.”  He opened the door.  He could see the faint shadow of Angie’s body behind the shower curtain.  Grabbing the biggest bath towel he could find, he dropped his eyes to the floor, pulled the curtain aside, and wrapped the towel around Angie’s body all in one quick movement.  He then lifted her out of the tub.

“He sent me an e-mail,” Angie said against his chest.  “He sent--  I didn’t even consider that he would do that.”

Rollie held her tightly, burying his face in her wet hair.  “I’m sorry, Angie.  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t think about that either.”

“I hate him, Rollie.  I hate him!  I want him dead.”  Angie’s voice was trembling with her hatred for Loubar.

“I know.  I hate him, too.”

After turning off the shower, they went out into the living room where two anxious cops were waiting.  Officer Karns was particularly upset.

“Are you all right, Ms. Ramirez?  I swear to you that no one touched your apartment while I was on duty.”

“It’s not your fault,” Angie told him.  “You couldn’t guard my e-mail.”

“Your. . . .”  The cop’s eyes went to the computer.  His face hardened.  “The slime,” he growled.

“Could you guys wait outside?” Rollie asked.

“Of course.”  The officers headed out the door, closing it behind them.

“I’m going to get dressed,” Angie muttered.

Rollie watched her disappear into the bedroom, then stared at the computer.  Whatever Loubar had sent, it had shaken her badly.  Had he sent a death threat?  An image of Rollie and Angie with a promise to kill them?  No, it was something else.  It wasn’t fear that he had felt coming from Angie.  It was anger, revulsion, shame, and an overwhelming feeling of emotional pain.  What could. . . .

“Oh no,” Rollie whispered, suddenly knowing what Loubar has sent her.  It could be only one thing, the same thing he had sent to Rollie months ago to torment him.  Wanting to confirm his guess, Rollie turned the computer on.  It was nearly finished booting up when Angie came out.  She saw the screen and made a dash for the computer.

“No!  I don’t want you to see it!” she cried as she turned the system back off.  She then unplugged it.

“I already have, Ange,” Rollie said softly.

“W-what?”

“I’ve already seen the video, not all of it, not. . . .”  He took a deep breath.  “Loubar had a system set up somewhere to automatically e-mail it to me the day after the assassination was supposed to take place.  He did it on the off chance that I would foil his plans again.”

“Oh my God,” Angie whispered in a choked voice.  “All this time?  You saw what happened that night?  You saw him rape me?”  She turned away, breathing hard.

“No, I didn’t watch it.  Loubar wanted me to.  He rigged things so that I couldn’t turn off the computer.  But I . . . I unplugged the system.”

“How much did you see?” Angie asked, her voice tight.

“I saw him hug you and then kiss you.  I saw you on the floor.  Then he took you up to the bedroom.  That’s when I couldn’t watch anymore.  Later on, I saw what happened the next morning.”

Angie gave a shaky sigh.  Her back was still turned to Rollie.  He went up to her and laid his hands on her shoulders, feeling a sharp stab of anguish when she flinched at his touch.

“He said that you would always remember that he had me first,” Angie said.  “And it’s true.  When we make love, you’ll think about the fact that I slept with him, that he touched me, had sex with me.  How can you even stand to kiss me knowing that he did?”

Angry, Rollie spun her around, gripping her arms.  “Don’t you ever say that!  I love you!  Yes, you slept with Loubar, but he wasn’t Loubar to you when you made love to him, he was me.  You gave your love that night to me!  Before, I looked at things like you do, that he turned what you gave that night into something ugly and terrible, but I was wrong.  What he did was the ugly, terrible thing, not what you did.  You gave your love to me that night.  All the passion you gave was to me.  I wish it had been me.  I wish that more than anything in the world.  I wish that I could make love to you right here and now to show you that what he did can never affect how much I love you and want you.”

They stared intently at each other for a breathless moment, then all at once, they were kissing with desperate intensity.  Rollie picked Angie up and carried her into the bedroom, falling with her upon the bed.  They pulled each other’s tops off, moaning at the feeling of their bare skin touching.  Angie rolled over on top of Rollie, rubbing against him, making his desire flare wildly.  He kissed his way down to her breasts, tasting the soft skin, wanting to taste more.  He pulled the bra straps off her shoulders, baring more of her to him.  He let his tongue slide across her, hearing her moan of pleasure.

That’s when he remembered that they were supposed to wait.

Rollie’s eyes moved up to Angie’s face, which was flushed and amazingly beautiful.  “Angie,” he breathed.  His fiancée’s eyes opened, dark with desire.  She studied his expression.  After a moment, she gave a faint nod, then moved off him, pulling her bra straps back up.

“Angie, please don’t think--”  His words were halted by her fingers.

“I don’t.  We made up our minds to wait until our wedding night.  I still want that.”  She caressed his cheek.  “Thank you.”

Rollie pulled her against him, laying his head upon her breast.  “I love you, beyond all reason.  You’re everything to me.”  He lifted his head and gazed deeply into her eyes.  “And when we make love, there will be nothing of Loubar or what he did standing between us.”  He brought his lips to within a hair’s breadth of hers, his hands pulling her lower body tightly against his hips.  “I’ll make you forget about Loubar,” he promised, his voice low and deep, sending a quiver through her.

Feeling her desire returning, Angie smiled.  “I’m not the only one who will be forgetting about Loubar,” she murmured huskily as she lifted a leg and wrapped it around his hips, pulling him even more tightly against her with a sudden movement.

Rollie’s breath drew inward sharply.  Then a twinkle of mischief leapt into his eyes.  “We’d better get earthquake insurance for our wedding night.”

Angie laughed.  “Only for the wedding night?  I’d say that it had better be a permanent addition to our coverage.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Rollie agreed.

They sat up and put their tops back on, then straightened their clothes and hair.

“You’re staying at the loft tonight,” Rollie said, his voice brooking no argument.  Angie merely nodded.  She quickly packed an overnight bag.

“Ange, is there, um, any chance that we might find a clue on where Loubar is in what he sent?” Rollie asked hesitantly.

Angie paused.  The added images of Loubar had been shot against a plain, featureless wall, and she hadn’t noticed any background sounds, but there was a chance that a filtering program might pick something up.  She hated the thought of watching that video again, but if there was a chance that it could help them catch Loubar, then she would.  It had been the video that allowed her to find Loubar’s house the day after he raped her.

“I guess it would be smart to check,” she said.  She plugged in and turned on her computer.  Angie copied the video onto a Jaz disk, then deleted it off her system.  She looked up at Rollie and found him watching her closely.

“I’m all right, Rol,” she assured him.

The Aussie nodded, giving her an encouraging smile.  They went out to where the cops stood waiting.  Rollie told them that Angie would be staying at the loft.

“Do you want me to call Detective Sanchez and have her give that e-mail to the people at the lab?” Officer Karns asked.  “They might be able to find something.”

Angie shook her head.  “No.  I’ve got what he sent.  I’ll do my own analysis on it.”

“I really hope we catch him, ma’am.”

“So do I.”

She and Rollie went back to the loft.  The cop who came with Rollie followed them in Angie’s car.  As they drew near the loft, the Aussie called on his cell phone and told Mangela to turn off the sensors.  Once they were inside the loft, the sensors were reactivated.

The Aborigine came up to Angie, his eyes full of worry.  She smiled at him to let him know that she was okay.

“This man Loubar is like a scorpion, deadly and merciless in his attacks,” Mangela said.  “But a scorpion can be driven to sting itself to death,” he added meaningfully.

“Don’t insult scorpions by comparing Loubar to them,” Rollie told him.  He looked at Angie.  “Do you want to run that through the computer tonight?” he asked, pointing at the disk in her hand.

Rollie’s tone clearly told Angie that he didn’t think it would be a good idea, and she agreed.  Her emotions were still too touchy to do it now.  It would be better to wait until morning.

“No, not tonight,” she said aloud.

“Good.  How about some tea?”

Angie gave him a smile.  “That would be nice.”

Rollie fixed a fresh pot and sat with Angie on the couch, Mangela in the chair.  To get Angie’s mind off what happened, he got the Aborigine into a discussion on the changes that were taking place in Australia and the latest hot news topics there.  They had not been talking long when the phone rang.  Rollie answered it, speaking to the person for only a few seconds.  As he hung up, he said, “That was Dad.  He’s almost here.”  Rollie had given his father a cell phone so that he could call when he was approaching the loft.

The Aussie switched off the sensors and went to the monitors.  He and Angie watched Dingo's convertible pull up in front of the building.  Dingo Tyler hopped out and approached the police officers.

“Password?” asked one of the cops.

“Password, right.  Uh, what time is it, mate?”

“9:20.”

“Nine, nine.  Uh. . . .  Give me a second.  I’ll think of it.”  A look of concentration twisted his face as the cops waited, their expressions deadly serious.  “Damn!” Dingo cursed after a few seconds.  “Rollie, what the bloody hell is the password for nine o’clock?”

Chuckling, Rollie went to the door.  Looking Dingo up and down, he crossed his arms over his chest.  “Well, I’m not going to tell you.  For all I know, you may be Loubar,” he said, keeping the smile off his face.

“Rollie, can’t you recognize your own father?” there was a note of whining in the man’s voice.

“Loubar is a master of disguise.”

“Rollieee.”

Rollie finally let a bit of his smile peek through.  “What did Mum used to do a lot of?”

“You mean besides scolding me for getting into trouble?  Well, she used to do a lot of sewing.  Hey!  That’s it!  The password is stitch, for that old saying, ‘A stitch in time saves nine.’”

Grinning, Rollie stepped back into the loft.  “Come on, Dad.”

“You didn’t really think that I was Loubar, did you, Son?” Dingo asked as he came through the door.

“Wellll. . . .”  Seeing the look on his father’s face, Rollie decided to give him a break.  “No, Dad, I didn’t think you were Loubar.”  He paused.  “You’re too short.”

“Saved by a few inches.  My own son can only tell it’s me because I’m not tall.”  Dingo’s expression changed when he saw Mangela.  “Hey, you old fox.  That was no accident, you bumping into me like that back home, was it.  You knew right where I was, and you knew that, when you told me Rollie needed help, I’d come running.”

The Aborigine only smiled, neither confirming nor denying this.

“So, this has turned out to be quite the reunion.  With all of us together now, this Loubar fellow doesn’t stand a chance.”  Dingo turned to his son.  “I stopped by Chet’s old place.”

“How is Chet?  I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Pretty much the same.  The bar hasn’t changed much either.  He sends his regards to you and Angie.”

Thinking about the bar owner, Rollie recalled something.  The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea that was forming in his mind.  He wasn’t aware that he was smiling until Angie spoke to him.

“All right, Rol.  I know that look.  What’s going through that brain of yours?”

Rollie’s smile broadened, then he sobered.  “Right now, Loubar believes that he’s in control, that everything will move according to his plan.  As long as he feels that way, he’ll stay in the shadows whenever possible, setting things up and getting them ready for the moment that he plans to strike.  We need to change that.  We need to make him lose that sense of control.  We need to make him mad.  If we do that, he’ll start taking more chances, come out into the open.”

“But, Rollie, do we really want to make Loubar mad?  I know what you said earlier, but if we make him too mad, he might decide to fly overhead in a helicopter and launch a rocket into the loft,” Angie pointed out.

Rollie shook his head.  “No.  That would be too quick.  It’s like I told you.  He wants us to suffer.  He wants me to suffer.  He could have killed me dozens of times in the past, but, instead, he did things to hurt me and the people I love.  The more we screw up his plans, embarrass him, the more he wants revenge.”

“All right, so we make him mad.  How do we do that?”

The smile returned to Rollie’s face.  He turned to his father.  “Dad, you remember that time Chet went hunting and he had the, uh, unexpected company?”

“Remember!  How could I forget?  He smelled so bad that he had to stay away from the bar for days!  Drove all the customers away.”  A smile like Rollie’s came to Dingo’s face.  “Oh, I like the way you think, Son.”

Angie looked from one to the other of them.  “Is somebody going to let the rest of us in on this?”

“Chet had a cabin up in the woods,” Rollie explained.  “He spent a week up there every hunting season.  Well, a skunk got into the cabin one day, and poor Chet came out on the losing side of the argument.”

“And you’re thinking what?”  Her eyes widened.  “Rollie, you’re not serious.  But how would we pull something like that off?”

“Now that’s going to be the real trick, but I think I may have an idea.”  Rollie outlined his plan, stopping occasionally to answer a question.  By the time he was finished, all four of them were smiling.

“Rollie, you have grown devious,” commented Mangela.

Angie laughed, “Oh, you haven’t seen some of the other things he’s come up with, Mangela.  Rollie Tyler can be downright Byzantine.”

“And guess where I got that from?” Rollie’s gaze turned to his father.  He, Mangela, and Angie all smiled knowingly at the man.

Dingo looked back at them.  “What?  What the bloody hell does Byzantine mean?”

The other three burst out laughing.  After a moment, Dingo joined in.

They spent the remainder of the evening talking about things that had nothing to do with Victor Loubar.  Finally, Dingo decided to call it a night.

“Would your roof care if I slept on it?” Mangela asked Rollie’s father.

“My roof wouldn’t care a bit, and neither would I,” Dingo told him.  “What’s wrong?  Tired of sleeping on a nice soft couch already?”

“I cannot see the stars from the couch or smell the air.”

“Why would you want to smell the air in New York?” Angie asked.  “And I doubt you’d be able to see any stars with the lights from the city.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point, is it, Mangela,” Rollie said quietly, understanding the Aborigine’s need to be outdoors.  “You can hear the songs better out there.”  He met his spiritual father’s eyes, seeing there a bit of surprise and more than a little approval for his words.  The man nodded faintly.

“Songs?  What songs?” Dingo asked, puzzled.

“Something to do with the Aborigines, Dad,” Rollie explained, his tone still soft.

“Oh.  Well, my roof is free for sleeping on.  Just don’t put a hole in it.”

Rollie changed the allowable body count on the specialized sensors to four for the night, gave Mangela a sleeping bag to use, and watched the two men leave.  He turned to Angie.  “So, Love.  Looks like the couch is free for you tonight, unless you want the bed.”

“No, the couch is fine.”  She studied his face.  “Rol, what. . . .”  Angie shook her head.  “Never mind.”  She came forward and kissed him.  “G’night.”

Rollie looked at her for a moment, then told her goodnight.  Angie watched him walk up the stairs and slip out of sight behind the door.
 

CHAPTER EIGHT -- TOGETHER

Angie sat staring into the darkness.  She knew that she should be trying to get some sleep, but thoughts of what had happened that day would not let her relax.  As she sat in the silence of the loft, she began thinking about their plan.  This had not been the first time that she’d seen the Aussie all excited and fired up over a plan to nail some criminal, but this wasn’t just anyone whom they were planning against.  This was Victor Loubar.  Loubar was smart and ruthless, and he knew them far better than any other bad guy they’d ever come up against.  Just one slip up on their part, and it could all go horribly wrong.  And what if Rollie was wrong about how Loubar would react?  What if the man got so mad that he lost control and tried to kill them?

Angie looked up at Rollie’s bedroom.  The glow of the lights could still be seen behind the translucent walls.  Apparently, Rollie was having the same trouble as she was.

Angie climbed the stairs.  She knocked quietly on the frame of the sliding door to the bedroom.  Hearing Rollie tell her to come in, she slid it open.  The Aussie was on the bed, his back propped up against pillows.  He saw her and smiled, then noticed the expression on her face.  Without a word, she came over and curled up beside him on the bed, resting her head on his chest.

“You’re worried, aren’t you,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Me too.  But I know I’m right about him, Ange.  He’s smart, but he has a big flaw when it comes to me.  He’s let his emotions influence his thinking.  If he hadn’t, I’d already be dead.  And that’s what’s going to be his downfall.”

Angie remained silent for a long time.  There were so many things she wanted to ask Rollie.  Earlier, she had come close to asking about what this thing was that she sensed between him and Mangela every time they were together, but she had chickened out.  Now, there was another question foremost in her mind.

“Rol?”

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about your mother?”  She felt the Aussie stiffen and looked up into his face.  “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

Rollie remained silent for a while.  “No, you should know,” he finally said.  “I should have told you a long time ago.”

“Mangela told me some of it, how she died and a little of what happened afterwards.”

Rollie closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  As he opened them, she saw the pain there.  She took hold of his hand.

“She had the most beautiful auburn hair, and her eyes were like warm brown pools,” Rollie began.  “People used to say that I had her eyes, but I never thought so.  I adored her.  She was everything to me.  Dad was so often not around, so it was usually just Mum and me, until I met Mangela and the People.  She was intelligent and beautiful, and she loved music, books, and nature.  To be honest, I don’t know why she got together with Dad.  They were so different in so many ways.”

“They must have loved each other a great deal,” Angie said softly.

“Yeah.  I know that no matter how much Dad caused trouble for us because of his ways or how many times he went off for weeks at a time, Mum still had a smile on her face when he returned home.”  The small smile on Rollie’s face faded away.  “She wasn’t even my age when she died.  It had been a hot spring, much hotter than usual.  I went off swimming with the Aboriginal children at a watering hole.  Dingo was off on another one of his trips.  We had two Utes, but the one that was left at home had engine troubles.  Maybe she tried to the take the car and it wouldn’t start.  I think she was looking for me.  I had told her which watering hole we were going to, but, when I got to the Aboriginal village, I found out that we were going to a different one because that hole had nearly dried up.”  Tears came into his eyes as he continued.  “I felt it when she died.  I was standing there in the water, and I just knew it.  I ran all the way home, but I couldn’t find her.  I went back to the village, and the men started searching for her.  They might have found her sooner if she hadn’t fallen into a gully.  But, in a way, it didn’t really matter.  I already knew she was dead.”

Rollie stopped for a long time, wiping away a tear that had escaped.  Angie said nothing, knowing that he had to do this at his own pace.

“When they finally found her and brought her home, I went off into the outback.  Mangela had told me that when people died, they weren’t really gone, that they were just walking in another level of the Dreamtime.  I went out there to try and find her.  I tried to reach the Dreamtime, but I couldn’t.  I tried all the rest of that day and throughout the night.  By the time I returned, I realized that I was never going to see her again.”  Rollie’s voice quavered and stopped.  Angie tightened her grip on his hand.  He closed his eyes for a moment, then continued.  “I blamed myself for her death.  I thought that, if I had been with her, then she would have been all right.  I thought that if I had--” He stopped again and took a deep, shaking breath.  “No one told me what had killed her.  I guess they thought that I was too young to understand.  I think that Mangela sensed what I was feeling.  He sat me down and explained what had happened to her, about the embolism, telling me that she would have died regardless of where she was.  But that didn’t change the fact that--”

“The fact that what?”

The Aussie shook his head, not answering.  He reached into the drawer of the stand beside his bed and pulled out a photograph.  It was of a lovely woman with hair that was a dark, rich auburn color.  What caught Angie’s attention the most, however, were her beautiful eyes.  They were perfect reflections of Rollie’s.  Angie felt an instant closeness to the woman.  She looked up at her fiancé.

“You do have her eyes.”

They lay together in shared silence for many minutes, each one occupied with their own thoughts.  Finally, Angie found the courage to ask what she had wanted to earlier.  “Rol, you never talk about your time with the Aborigines, except the ‘safe’ stuff.  Why?  What is it that’s between you and Mangela?”

The moment she spoke the words, the tension level in her fiancé skyrocketed.  She could feel it radiating from him.  Angie looked up at his face, which was tight, the expression closed off.  What horrible thing was trapped inside him that he refused to let out?

“I’m sorry, Rollie.  Forget I asked,” Angie said, realizing that she shouldn’t have brought it up.  But she wanted to know what darkness in his past was hurting him so much.

“He . . . he was my teacher,” the Aussie said, his voice strained.  “All of the People taught me things, how to hunt and gather food as they do, how to live off the land and respect it.  They taught me the songs of the Ancestors, how to always know where I was in the outback by a cluster of rocks or long-dry streambed.  I learned the history of the People through their songs and stories.  I was taught their culture, their law, their beliefs, even how they view sex and marriage.  But Mangela, he taught me . . . other things as well.  He is what the Aborigines call a man of high degree.  Mangela’s knowledge and abilities in certain . . . skills and practices of the People are far greater than those of Aboriginal men who have not gone through the initiations of high degree.”

“And . . . he taught you this stuff?”  Is this where these abilities of Rollie’s stemmed from?

Rollie remained silent for several seconds.  “He taught me . . . things, things that no other White had ever been taught.  I don’t know why.  Maybe it was because. . . .”

“Because what?”

Rollie looked at the clock.  “It’s late.  We both need to get some sleep.  It’s going to be a very long day tomorrow.”

Angie didn’t need a neon sign to tell her that Rollie didn’t want to talk about the subject anymore.  But she had learned more than she had thought he would tell her.  And, now, she knew it was time to share something with him.  She rested her head once again on his chest.

“Rol, there’s something that I’ve never told you.  When you . . . died, I fell apart.  I’ve never felt so much pain in my life.  I wanted to die.  But then, something happened.  I heard, I thought I heard your voice calling out to me.  Right after that, you came back.  You started breathing again.  I didn’t really think about it until something else happened.  You were in the coma, and I thought I was going to lose you.  There didn’t seem to be any hope.  The morning after you were shot, you went into cardiac arrest again, and they almost didn’t bring you back.  Afterwards, I prayed to God not to let you die.  Then I heard your voice inside my mind again.  You begged me not to cry and promised me that you wouldn’t leave me.  I felt you touch me somehow.  After that, I knew that you were going to be okay.  Later, I began to think that it had all been in my imagination.  I was so desperate for something to hold on to, some kind of hope.  But, now, with what’s happening, I’ve begun to wonder again if I really did hear you.”

Rollie had grown very still.  She looked up at him and found him staring at her in stunned disbelief.

“I heard you crying, and I tried so hard to reach out to you, to tell you that I would never leave you,” Rollie said, amazement in his voice.  “I never dreamed that you actually heard me.”

Angie sat up.  “Then it’s true?  It really happened?  Rollie, this is incredible.”

Rollie sat in silence, his mind reeling from what he’d just learned.  Somehow, he had communicated with Angie mind to mind, reaching out to her from the edge of death, then again from the coma.  This was far beyond his ability to sense her presence.  What was happening to him? Why was it happening?  Mangela had once told him that the limits people place upon their abilities are false, that human beings can do the seemingly impossible if only they tried hard enough and allowed themselves to believe.

Rollie looked down at Angie, thinking of how it was between them, how it always had been.  From the day he met her, he had felt an affinity with her.  He had grown so close to her so quickly, coming to love her deeply within the space of a few days.  He had thought that it was because of the shared pain of losing their mothers, but, now, he knew that it was more than that.  There was a bond between them, a bond far beyond the emotional or physical.  Though he didn’t know why, him being shot and ‘dying’ had made that bond many times stronger.  He felt the connection all the time, and when they were together, when they kissed, became intimate, he felt them coming together on a much deeper level.  His and Angie’s songlines had become linked as fully and completely as it was possible for any two people.

“Our songlines are one,” he murmured, speaking his thoughts aloud.

“Songlines?”  Angie remembered hearing Mangela speak that word the first time she met him, but she did not understand what Rollie meant by what he’d said.

Embarrassed, the Aussie gave her a rather shy smile.  “It means that our lives, our souls are intertwined.  We are a part of each other.”  His hand came up and caressed down her cheek and neck to rest over the swell of her breasts where her heart lay.

Angie reached up and kissed him.  Rollie pulled her close, deepening the kiss, drawing her into him like a tree drawing in the sunlight and giving life in return.  With a sigh, Angie let herself get lost in him, everything else slipping away.  It was then that she could feel it, their unity, a connection like nothing she’d ever known before.  It was there every time they were like this.

Angie lay back on the bed, drawing Rollie down with her.  The kiss deepened even more, but did not become heated, lips and tongues caressing, gently seeking.  Deep in her mind, Angie felt Rollie touch her, and she heard a faint echo of words.

‘I love you,’ he told her, though he had not made a sound.

‘I love you,’ she told him back, also not speaking.

A thousand years later, their lips separated.  Their eyes were glowing as they gazed at each other.

“Wow,” breathed Angie.

“Ditto,” replied Rollie.  As had happened many times before, he knew just what she was thinking.  “Ten days, Angie.  In ten days, we’ll be married.”

“Ten days.”  Angie sighed contentedly and snuggled against him as he lay down fully on the bed.  A few moments later, her breathing deepened in sleep.  Echoing her sigh, Rollie closed his eyes and drifted off into contented slumber.

“Hello, Angie,” said a gentle voice.

Angie turned to see a beautiful woman gazing at her, a warm, gentle smile on her face.

“You’re Rollie’s mother,” Angie said in surprise.

“Yes.”  Her gaze drifted down and to her left.  Angie followed it to see Rollie sleeping in his bed, looking peaceful and happy.

“He’s my little boy, the greatest joy and pride of my life,” the woman told him.  She returned her eyes to Angie.  “You must take care of him.  There is a fear and pain burned deep into his heart that he will not share with anyone.”

“What is it?  What can I do to make it go away?”

“I cannot tell you what it is.  That secret is not mine to give.  And only Rollie himself can bring the healing that he needs and end this fear that has been with him for so long.”

“I love him so much,” Angie told her.  “I hate seeing him hurting.”

“I know.  You and he are connected in deeper ways that even he realizes.  You are what will give him strength when he needs it most.”  She looked at Angie closely.  “And the other way around is true as well.  You need each other.  Without each other, you can never be whole.”

The image of Rollie’s mother began to fade.

“Wait!” Angie cried.  “Is Rollie right about Loubar?  Will we get him this time?”

“I cannot tell you the future, Angie.  I can only say that you should trust Rollie’s instincts.  He has gifts that you are only just beginning to find out about.  If he starts to weaken, if he begins to swerve from the path he has set his feet upon, you must strengthen him and guide him back.  More than you can possibly imagine depends upon him.  If he is lost. . . .”  Her voice trailed off.  “Farewell, Angie.  Take good care of my son.”

Angie woke abruptly.  She lay still for a moment, her mind confused, then she relaxed.  It had been a dream.  But what a very strange one.  Thoughts of the dream faded as she turned her attention to the feeling of Rollie’s warm body curled around hers.  It felt so good to be here like this with him, to wake up surrounded by his presence.  Smiling softly, she snuggled closer.  A pair of lips brushed her forehead.  She raised her head to find Rollie gazing down at her, his eyes shining with love.  He smiled gently and kissed her.

“Good morning, Angel,” he murmured.

“Good morning.”

“This feels good.”

“Heavenly,” Angie agreed.

“Just think, pretty soon, we’ll be doing this every morning.”

“Mmm.  Can’t wait.”

Reluctantly, they got up.  Showered and shaved, Rollie joined Angie downstairs.

“It’s all yours.”

Angie moved past him, but was stopped by Rollie’s arm, which had imprisoned her waist.  He pulled her back against him and whispered something in her ear that brought heat to her cheeks.  Laughing, Angie pulled away and headed for the bathroom.

A while later, she emerged to find breakfast on the table.  She sat across from Rollie and began to eat.

“Are you going to check the video this morning?” Rollie asked, looking at her closely.

“I guess I should.  There is a chance that there’s something there that will give us a clue on where he is.”

“Do you want me to do it?”  The thought of having to watch the entire video was abhorrent to him, but he would do it if it would spare Angie pain.

Angie took his hand and gave it a squeeze.  “Thank you.”  She released his hand.  “But this is something that I need to do myself.”

Rollie nodded, understanding.  “We’ll need to call Mira and Francis today to let them in on our plan.  I still haven’t figured out where we’re going to do this, though.  Someplace inside is out of the question.  Loubar wouldn’t set foot inside a building unless it was big, public, and full of people.  He knows that we wouldn’t try something under those conditions and risk innocent people getting hurt.”

“So we need to set this up outside, then,” Angie said.  “It’ll have to be somewhere we can control, where there aren’t going to be a lot of people around.  We sure wouldn’t want some poor passerby to get caught in this.”  She took another bite of food.  That’s when it came to her.  “Rollie, what about Huntington Gardens?  They’re going to be closed for the next three or four days because of that water main that broke and flooded the parking lot.”  Then another thought occurred to her.  “No, that isn’t going to work.  We’d have no logical reason to go there, and Loubar would know that.”

Rollie smiled.  “Oh, yes we would.”

“What’s that?”

“There are two things that you and I need to do together for the wedding that haven’t been done yet.  One is getting the rings, and the other is checking out the place where we’re going to have the wedding.  Now, Loubar doesn’t know about Jimmy’s offer, so, as far as he knows, we don’t have a location yet.  Huntington Gardens does take reservations for weddings.  I’ve seen the ad.”

Now Angie was smiling.  “So we go there pretending to make arrangement for the ceremony.  That’s perfect, Rol.  I just hope he’ll follow us into the gardens.”

“Oh, he’ll follow, all right.  I’ve gotten a call from the Times about putting in a formal wedding announcement.  I think it’s time they did.  Once Loubar reads that we’re having the ceremony at the gardens, he’ll be certain to follow us in there.  I’m sure he’s planning to screw up the wedding somehow, and he’ll want to know ahead of time where things are going to be placed.  You’re right, Angie.  This is perfect.”

“Now, all we need to do is get permission to do this from the owners.”

“We’ll leave that up to Mira and Francis.  Um, Ange, I’ve been thinking that it would be wise to get someone else’s help on this.  I’m considering calling David.”

“I thought you said that he was on vacation.”

“He is, but from what he said, he isn’t going out of town.”

“But if you bring him in on this, then the rest of the FBI will be involved.  You know what Mira is going to say about that.”

“Yeah.  But there’s also another concern.  Loubar may have sources of information within the FBI.  We can’t take the chance that something will leak  I’m hoping that I can convince David not to tell anyone else.  I’m going to call him and feel him out.  But, first, I’d better call Mira.”  As he reached for the phone, there was a knock on the door.  Rollie checked the monitor and saw that it was Mangela and Dingo.  Ordering Blue to open the door, he continued his call.  Only telling Mira that they’d come up with a plan to cause Loubar some trouble, he asked if she could come over earlier than she had planned.  She was due to pick Angie up to continue their shopping at 9:30.  Mira agreed to come earlier.

“She’ll be here at 8:45,” Rollie said as he hung up the phone.  “Okay, now for the call to David.”  The Aussie dialed the number.

“Hey, Rollie.  Change your mind about that game?” the agent asked cheerfully.

“No, ‘fraid not.  We’ve gotten kind of . . . involved in something.  David, I need to ask you a favor.  It’s a big one.”

“Of course, Rollie.  Ask away.”

“I could use your help on something, but you need to keep it under your hat.  That means not bringing any other FBI agents into it.”

David’s manner instantly changed.  “Rollie, what is this?  What’s going on?” he asked, his voice that of the professional he was.

“I can’t tell you, not unless you can promise me that you won’t go to your superiors.”

There was a long silence.  “All right, Rollie.  I promise.  I really hope this isn’t going to get me into trouble.”

“Have you ever heard of Victor Loubar?” the Aussie asked.

“You’ve got to be kidding.  Of course I’ve heard of him.  He’s been a thorn in our side for years.”

“He’s back.”

“What?!” David yelled.  Rollie heard a noise that sounded like a fork clattering onto a plate.

“He’s here in New York, and he’s after me and Angie again.”

“How do you know this?  What has he done?”

Rollie told him briefly about the package and the murdered woman, not mentioning the video.

“Rollie, this is serious.  You should have come to us about this before,” the agent told him.

“David, we need to keep what we’re going to do as secret as possible.  Loubar cannot get the smallest hint that something is up, and if the FBI gets fully involved, there is a possibility that he may find out something.  We’re taking a chance as it is involving as many of the NYPD as we are.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“It would be best to tell you after you get here, that is if you want in on this.  If you can’t become involved solo, then I understand.  No one has to know that I ever told you anything.”

There was another long silence, then, “I’m in, Rollie.  I want a part in catching that guy.”

The Aussie smiled.  “Good.  When can you get here?”

“How about early this afternoon?”

“Perfect.  We’ll see you then.”  Rollie hung up.

“So, who’s this guy you called?” Dingo asked.  “Sounds like he’s a fed.”

“That he is, Dad, but you’ll like him.  He’s a great guy.”  The Aussie grinned.  “He also kind of has something in common with you.”

“What’s that?”

“His dad owns a race horse, Misty Waters.”

“Misty Waters?  Hey, I won a thousand bucks betting on that horse.”

Rollie’s grin broadened.  “Yeah, I know.”

“I like this guy already.  You think he could give me some tips on the ponies?”

“Dad,” Rollie said warningly.

“Sorry.”

“Rol, I’m going to start in on that video,” Angie said.

Rollie glanced at his father out of the corner of his eye.  Dingo did not know anything about what Loubar had done to Angie, and he wanted to keep it that way.  He knew that Angie did, too.

“Okay.  I’ll let you know when Mira gets here,” he said, trying to sound casual.  He watched Angie take the disk up to the clean room.

“What video is she talking about?” Dingo asked.

“Um, Loubar sent a video to Angie by e-mail last night as a kind of . . . scare tactic.  She's going to analyze it and see if she can find anything on it that will give us a clue on where Loubar is.”

“I’ve met some lowlifes in my days, Rollie, but this Loubar is the worst of them.  I hope we nail him good.”

“We will, Dad.”

An hour later, Angie came back down.  Her face looked pale and drawn to Rollie’s eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asked gently, touching her arm.

“Yeah.”  She took a deep breath.  “I ran it through the audio filters, from subsonic to ultrasonic, and I isolated one sound.”  She stuck a disk into the computer at Rollie’s workstation and played the audio file on it.  A faint squealing, squeaking sound could be heard.

“It sounds like a rat that just got stepped on,” Dingo commented.

“That’s exactly what it is,” Angie said, “though I don’t know if it got stepped on.”

“So, how is that going to help us.  There are thousands of rats in New York.”

“Despite what some people may believe about New York, you aren’t going to find rats anywhere you look,” Rollie said.  “Generally, they’ll hang around sewers, abandoned or rundown buildings, trash heaps, and some of the filthier alleys.  I seriously doubt that Loubar is camping out in a sewer, alley, or landfill, so I’d say the chances are good that he’s holed up in an abandoned building somewhere, or at least a building that hasn’t been occupied for a few weeks.  Ange, play that again and turn up the volume.”

Angie played the file again at twice the volume.

“You hear that?” Rollie asked.

“Yeah, it sounded like an echo,” Angie said.

“Which means that wherever this is, it’s pretty big, like a warehouse or someplace like the loft here.”

“Thinking about it, there was a faint sound of an echo to Loubar’s voice,” Angie said.

Rollie sighed.  “Unfortunately, there are way too many empty warehouses and unoccupied buildings in New York to do a search, but we may get some more clues that we can piece together with this one.  It’s more than we had before.”

The phone rang.  Mira was just a minute away.  Disabling the sensors, the four of them watched the detective’s car pull up.  A few seconds later, a second car appeared.  Rollie and Angie closely watched as the occupant of the second vehicle got out.

“It’s Lucinda!” Angie cried delightedly.  She dashed outside with Rollie following behind.

The two women laughed as they came together in a hug.  Then Lucinda saw Rollie and fairly threw herself into his arms.  Laughing, he hugged her tight.

“Oh, it is so good to see you both!  And it is just fantastic to see you up on your feet and healthy again, Rollie.”

The Aussie introduced the actress to Mangela, and they all went inside.

Lucinda looked at Angie and Rollie, clearly seeing the change between them.  “Oh, this is just too wonderful.  You two are actually getting married!  I have been like on Cloud Nine ever since you called me.”  Lucinda’s gaze went to Angie’s left hand.  “So, let me see.  Let me see.”  Angie showed her the ring.  The actress’s eyes widened as she gasped.  “Oh!  Oh!” was all she managed for a moment, then, “Rollie, you can choose my jewelry for me any old time you please.”

Rollie smiled at the compliment.  “Well, I was inspired.”  His eyes met Angie’s, brimming with love.

Getting down to business, Rollie briefly filled Lucinda in on what was happening, then told his plan to Mira.  By the time he was finished, there was a big smile on hers and Lucinda’s faces.

“I could have that place loaded with cops.  We can use this opportunity to catch him.”

“No, you can’t,” stated Rollie.

“And why not,” asked the detective, her voice a bit indignant.

“Mira, Loubar is not going to walk into those gardens without taking some precautions.  You can bet he’s going to have some kind of infrared scanner with him.  If he sees a few dozen people in a garden that is closed to the public, he’ll know something’s up and will be out of there in a flash.  We can’t chance that.  However, you and Francis will be right there, and we can have a couple of uniformed cops with us, which wouldn't make Loubar suspicious. We could still try to catch him, though I'd be concerned that he'd be armed and would take a shot at us.”

“Why not try to gas him instead of what you're planning? Either that or use some kind of dart throwers?”

“I thought about that, but there would be problems.  If we used some kind of knockout gas, we would all be exposed to it if the wind kicked up and carried it in our direction.  We'd have no way of containing the gas in one area since we'll be outdoors, and we sure can't all carry gas masks around with us.  There's also the problem of availability.  Though you could get your hands on teargas pretty easily, the kind of gas we'd need, something that would incapacitate Loubar quickly, wouldn't be readily available to you, and I wouldn't have any sources for such a thing.  You'd have to go through channels to get the knockout gas, and we can't take the chance that Loubar has ears in the department and would find out about it.  As for darts, they're too iffy.  They could miss their target or Loubar could get hit by several darts and receive an overdose.  Besides, contrary to popular belief, tranquilizer darts don't work immediately.”  He looked at the detective.  “This is just the first step in catching him, Mira.  If everything goes as planned, we’re going to make it a lot easier to nail him, especially if Loubar reacts the way I think he will when the trap is sprung.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Angie told me that the mask Loubar uses now can be turned off by the wearer.  He keeps the transmitter in his pocket.  It would use a very specific frequency.  When Loubar falls into our trap, I have a feeling that he will be extremely anxious to get that mask off.”

“And when he uses the transmitter we’ll find out the frequency it’s set at, which means that we’ll be able to turn off his mask any time we want to,” Angie finished.  “He won’t be able to hide from us.”

“Would he be able change it to another frequency?”

“Yes, but I’m guessing that he doesn’t have with him what he’d need to do that,” said Rollie.  “He’d have to get some things.  Besides, we won’t do this until we have things set up to catch him.  Until then, he won’t have any idea we can do it.”

Mira looked delighted.  “We might really catch him this time.”

“We are going to catch him,” Rollie said, his voice and expression echoing his hatred.

Lucinda stared at Rollie.  She’d never seen him like this before.  There was a . . . hardness in him, a look in his eyes that almost scared her.  She turned to Angie and saw that same look there.  Who was this Victor Loubar?  What had he done to make Rollie and Angie hate him so much?

She was about to ask when Rollie spoke.

“Um, Mira, I’ve brought David Rain in on this.”

“What?  We agreed to keep the feds out of this,” the detective said rather angrily.  “And I thought you said he was on vacation.”

“He is.  He’s going to help us on his own time, Mira.  He isn’t going to tell his superiors.”

“He isn’t?”  There was doubt in the woman’s voice.

“No, he isn’t.  He promised me that he wouldn’t, and I trust him.”

“Well, in that case, we’ll be happy to have his help,” Mira said.

Rollie nodded.  “Ange, I didn’t think of this before.  Did you tell Joyce about the change in wedding plans?”

“Yeah, I did.  She knows what’s going on.”  The moment Angie had told her friend that the man who raped her had returned, Joyce had wanted to know the whole story.  She was going to be meeting Mira and Angie to help them in the search for a wedding dress.  Joyce had been busy talking to married friends to get their recommendations on where to go.  Many of them had agreed on a particular shop as being the best place in town.

“Hey, Luce, Mira and I are going shopping for a wedding dress.  Like to tag along?” Angie asked.

The actress’s eyes lit up.  “Need you ask?”

“Angie, can I talk to you for a minute?” Mira asked.  She and Angie walked away to the other side of the loft.  “I got the report on the e-mail Loubar sent to you.  The officers didn’t know the contents, but said that it was apparently upsetting to you.”

“Yeah.  It was a copy of the video of . . . that night with a . . . commentary by Loubar.”

Mira studied Angie’s face.  “I’m sorry, Angie.  If I had thought of the possibility that he would do that, I could have saved you from this.”

Angie shook her head.  “It’s better that I’m the one who saw it.  I don’t want anyone else to see that thing, ever.  Rollie’s seen part of it, but not all.”

“He has?”

“Loubar sent it to him the day after the assassination attempt.  I didn’t know that until last night.”

Angie told the detective about what they’d discovered in the audio.  Mira said that she’d start making a list of the most likely places that Loubar would set up his base of operations. She and Angie then rejoined the others.  The three women went off into town while Rollie stayed home to work on what they’d need for their little surprise.  Mangela and Dingo were sent off to pick up some things that they would need.

Angie sat in the back seat with the actress so that they could catch up on things.

“So, have you and Rollie kept to your, um, decision?” Lucinda asked, her eyes showing her eagerness to know.

“What decision is that, Luce?” Angie asked innocently, knowing perfectly well what the actress was talking about.

“You know,” her friend said, giving Angie a nudge in the ribs.

“Ah, that decision.  Yes, we have--barely.”

“Barely?  What does barely mean?  Come on.  Don’t keep secrets from your friends.”

“Luce, you are really something else,” Angie said, her head shaking.  “Shall I ask you what’s going on in your love life?”

“What love life?  I don’t have one of those right now.”

“I thought you were dating the key grip of your last movie?”

“That ended when the movie did.  He’s off in Costa del Sol now on another shoot.  Hardly even said goodbye.”

“I’m sorry, Luce.  I know you liked him.”

The actress shrugged.  “He was no Rick.”  A moment of pain flickered in her eyes.  “What I need is to find a guy who’s reliable and strong, who will be there when I need him most.  I need somebody who’s, well, like Rollie.  Hey, can I have him if you decide you don’t want him?”

“Not on your life!” Angie said emphatically.  “He’s mine forever!”

Lucinda laughed delightedly.

They met Joyce in front of the bridal shop that her friends had recommended.  After introductions between her and Lucinda, they all went inside.  The owner of the shop specialized in personally designed gowns.  Angie knew that there would be no time for something like that, but she hoped that the shop might have a dress in stock that would work.

The woman behind the counter was around sixty.  She had a warm, friendly face.  “Good morning.  May I help you?” she asked with a strong German accent.

“We’re looking for a wedding dress,” explained Lucinda.

“Ah.”  The woman looked at Angie.  “And you are the one getting married, yes?”

“How could you tell?”

“I have been making wedding dresses for forty years and have seen many bride-to-be’s, but they all have that same look in their eyes--the look you have.  So, when is the wedding?”

Angie glanced at Mira, Lucinda, and Joyce.  “The twenty-seventh.”  They could not take the chance that Loubar was listening in.

“Oh, not much time.  I could not make a dress for you so soon, but I may have something here that will work.  Come here, Child.  Let me look at you.”

Angie drew closer.  The woman studied Angie’s figure with a practiced eye, nodding her head occasionally.

“You have a strong upper body and good, strong shoulders and arms.  We would wish to soften this.  Nothing with a tight waistline, nothing sleeveless.  The dress should flow down from the bodice gently.  Long sleeves would be best and no padding at the shoulder.  Do you have, how do you say, good cleavage?”

Angie’s eyes widened in embarrassment at the question.  “Uh, average, I guess.”

The dressmaker nodded.  She went into a back room and came out a minute later carrying an exquisite gown.  Yards and yards of paper-fine lace shimmered in the light like diamond dust.  The moment she saw it, Angie fell in love with the dress.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“Please, try it on.  It will be more beautiful when you are wearing it.”

They all went into the changing area.  Her hands trembling slightly, Angie slipped the dress on.  Lucinda did up the dozens of tiny pearl buttons in the back, and they all turned to look at Angie’s reflection in the mirror.  Angie gasped.  It was as if the dress had been made for her.  The snug bodice and low, diamond-cut neckline accentuated the curve of her breasts.  The dress flowed downward from the bodice in a soft curve to her hips and on down to the full, flowing skirt.  The long, straight sleeves fit to perfection.  The dress was incredibly light, seeming to float around her like a cloud.  The entire effect lent an amazing gracefulness and lissome quality to her figure.  She looked like some willowy creature from a fairy tale.

“Ah, Child, you look like a sylph,” the dressmaker said softly.

“A sylph?”

“An elemental, a spirit of the air.  The myths say that they were beautiful, airy beings, light as goose down, who seldom set foot upon the earth.”

Angie’s eyes returned to the mirror.  She couldn’t believe it was actually her she was staring at.  “This is the one,” she murmured.

“Yes,” the dressmaker agreed.  “There could be no more perfect dress for you.  And it will need so little alteration, only a bit of shortening.  That will take no more than a day or two.  But wait, we are not yet finished.”  She left for a few seconds, then returned to place what she had brought upon Angie’s head.  The waist-length veil was mounted to a delicate headpiece crafted from sprays of tiny pearls and almost lifelike white silk flowers.

“Oh, Angie.  You look so beautiful,” Lucinda said in a hushed tone.  She turned to the dressmaker.  “Do you have bridesmaids’ dresses too?”

The woman smiled and led them into another room.  Everyone’s eyes opened wide.  The room was a showplace for every style of bridesmaids’ dresses imaginable.  The dresses were sorted by color.  Angie glanced around and spied a dress that was almost a perfect match to the color of the diamond in her engagement ring.

“Look,” she said to Mira and Lucinda, pointing out the similarity.

The dressmaker saw too and commented, “How wonderful.  It was only yesterday that I added these dresses to my collection.  I have some other styles, too, made with the same material.”  She showed them the other dresses.  The women all returned to the dressing room, carrying Lucinda’s, Joyce’s, and Mira’s choices with them.

As they left the shop an hour later, Angie felt like she was, indeed, one of the mythical creatures the woman had spoken of, for, surely, she would take flight at any moment.  The feeling was born not only because of the beauty of the wedding dress, but, also, because of the thoughts and emotions that had gone through her as she looked at herself in the mirror.  The realization of it all was finally hitting her full force.

“I’m really getting married.  I am actually marrying Rollie Tyler.”  Her voice was hushed and full of awe.  “I can’t believe it.”

Smiling gently, Mira gave her shoulders a hug.  “Just think.  Pretty soon you’ll be Mrs. Angela Tyler.”

“Angela Tyler.  This is just too wonderful to be true.  Any moment now, I’m going to wake up and find that this is all just a dream.”

Mira laughed.  “Keep right on dreaming then, Angie.  If I were you, I’d never want to wake up.”

Saying goodbye to Joyce, the other three women went to a florist shop next.  Because of the short notice, there were some things that would have to be done without, but the clerk assured them that they could have the bouquets, corsages, boutonnieres, and lattice archway done in time, even after Mira took the woman into a back room and told her the real date for the wedding.

“It’s all coming together, isn’t it,” Angie said as she, Mira, and Lucinda drove back to the loft.  “Everything is going to work out.  Rollie and I are going to be married, and Loubar will be out of our lives forever.”

Lucinda looked over at Angie at the mention of Loubar’s name.  “Angie, I know that you don’t want me to ask, but who is this Victor Loubar?”  She immediately felt the tension from the other two women.  Angie was staring fixedly out the window.  “Angie, whatever it is, I think I can take it,” the actress said softly.

Angie finally turned to her.  She had hoped to spare her friend the knowledge, but knew now that she was going to have to tell her.

“He’s the man who raped me,” she said quietly.

Every trace of color drained out of the actress’s face.  “Oh, God,” she said in a choked whisper.  Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over.  She hugged Angie.  “You should have called me.  You should have told me.  I would have been here to . . . to help.”

“There’s nothing you could have done.”  Angie pulled back to see her friend’s face streaked with tears.  “I’m okay, Luce.  Really I am.”

“When did this happen?”

“Two weeks before Rollie was shot.”  Angie told her the story, the whole story, how Loubar posed as Rollie and seduced her, revealing the awful truth the next morning.  By the time she was done, Lucinda was crying again.  Angie did not tell her about Lambert.  There was no need to add that anguish.

“That is so horrible.  What kind of sick, sadistic monster would do something like that?”

“That’s what Loubar is.  Calling him a human being is an insult to the rest of us,” Angie spat.

“Angie, please let me help you catch him.  I don’t care what I have to do.  I just want to help.”

Angie gave her a smile, nodding.  She then shook off her mood and wiped the tears from Lucinda’s cheeks.  “Fix your face, Luce.  We wouldn’t want the guys to see that you’ve been crying.  They’ll think that the wedding dress was so awful it made you weep.”

Luce gave her a shaky smile, then pulled out her cosmetic bag, using her professionally acquired skills in makeup to erase the traces of her tears.

Angie’s eyes returned to the window.  They were all together now, their friends joined in a single purpose: to see Victor Loubar brought down for good.
 

CHAPTER NINE -- STRIKING BACK

As the women pulled onto Brewery Lane, Lucinda spied a tall, blond man talking to the officers outside.

“Who’s that?” she asked, sitting up in her seat.

“That’s David Rain.  He’s with the FBI,” Angie told her.

“Wow.  I didn’t know they had feds that good-looking except on TV and in the movies.”

Angie hid a smile.  The car pulled up to a halt, and they all got out.  Angie noticed David’s eyes instantly become riveted on Lucinda.

“Hi, David,” Angie said.

“Hi.  Rollie has filled me in on the plans.  This is going to be great.”  The agent’s gaze drifted back to the actress, and he smiled a little shyly.  “Hello, I’m David Rain.”  He hesitated a moment, then held out his hand to her.

Lucinda smiled brightly and took the offered hand, liking how he shook her hand firmly, but gently.  “Lucinda Scott,” she said, wondering at the fluttering feeling in her stomach.

David’s eyes searched her face.  “Um, excuse me, but you . . . look familiar.  Is there any chance that we’ve met before?”

Normally, Luce would think that a guy who said that was using it as a line, but the look on his face was genuine.  “No, I don’t think so,” she replied.  ‘I would most definitely remember if I had,’ she said to herself.  “Um . . . maybe you’ve seen one of my movies.”

“You’re an actress?  Wait!  That’s it!  I saw you in . . . ‘Operation: Romance’.  You were the sister of the leading lady.”

Lucinda beamed at him.  “Yeah.  You saw ‘Operation: Ro