Chapters 26-34

CHAPTER 26

Later that evening the conference room was buzzing. The mood, as usual, was light hearted. Still, the main topic of discussion was about the company’s vision and goals.

The top three executives agreed to make permanent the family welcome mat policy for meetings. Joey proposed the idea during a previous talk to help keep priorities in line. Rico was sure there was a hidden meaning he was supposed to glean.

Rosangelica and Tina gained more responsibility to manage the youngsters during those same meetings. At the same time, they also got more and more leeway in deciding how much of their personal time they wanted to put into other aspects of the company’s business.

On a whim Rico instructed Joey to begin a pay sheet for the two. Perhaps they would consider a career in the business. “God forbid!” Joey had said, jokingly. Over time she would grow to be mortified for real about the prospect. It would have been better for her to be more direct about that fear. Had she done so, another set of misunderstandings may have been averted. She couldn’t—or chose not to—see that Rico wasn’t running on all cylinders.

CHAPTER 27

Early the next morning, Joey was headed out just when Jennifer finished scribbling a note to Rico.

“Well, Jenny, are you ready to make a decision?” Joey asked.

Jennifer knew exactly what she meant and shook her head.

“Don’t wait too long,” Joey warned, adding a serious look. “So … where you going lassie?”

Jennifer gave her a pretend annoyed look, then quickly smiled and said, “I have no idea. I got this hare-brained idea to take a casual drive. I woke up with Valley Drive and north stuck in my head. This is weird.”

Jennifer waited for Joey to respond, but she was too busy concealing a grin with her hand.

Joey hugged her and started out the door, “Well, have fun Jenny girl. I love you.”

Jennifer was still trying to get used to being shown affection so directly and verbally like that. She liked it, though there was a smidgen of embarrassment she felt when strangers were nearby. While it felt less odd with Roseangelica, it still felt strange. Tina was a more subtle hugger, and never spoke the “love” word above a mumble.

Heading north on Valley Drive, Jennifer felt a stirring in her spirit. It was getting a little uncomfortable. An overwhelming sense of loneliness hit her. It grew stronger and stronger as she passed onion field after onion field. The engine on her recently purchased new car suddenly died. Very annoyed, she pulled over and planned to offer the dealer a piece of her mind.

She dug through her purse searching for her phone, while at the same time watching field workers labor away harvesting the onion crop. In between some mild cursing, she wondered why anyone would work in blazing heat for the pennies they made.

At the far corner of the field a fifteen year-old Hispanic girl stood from her kneeling position on the hot ground. She stood and looked around. A much older sister next to her asked her where she thought she was going. In Spanish she answered that she was about God’s business and continued trudging along, raising tired feet over row after row. She would have conserved more energy had she stayed where she had been and made money filling up some more gunny sacks; but she walked on. It was just like in a dream she had had months before.

Jennifer saw her through a combination of unexplainable teary eyes and heat waves rising off the hot Mesilla Valley ground. The petite young woman of Tina’s age seemed only a blurry illusion. Jennifer looked around for help from a real person. She continued stirring things around in her purse looking for the cell phone—forgetting she always clipped it on her belt—all the while promising to clean out the junk filled purse. She angrily twiddled her thumbs on the steering wheel after she checked her belt. Realizing she had forgotten it on her desk, she hoped just then that Rico didn’t try calling or that no emergency happened. Today was not a good day to deal with chastisement—not at all. Anger one second and lonesome heartache the next were already beyond coping with.

By this time the young migrant woman had made it across the field and was tapping on her window. Jennifer turned the key and tried the window. It lowered. The young woman gestured with her hand to ask if she could climb in.

A puzzled Jennifer nodded. What else could she do?

The raggedy clothes and strong onion smell made Jennifer uncomfortable. She couldn’t believe that her own boss, Rico, had earned his spending money the same hard way when he was little.

The girl spoke in broken English, not even trying Spanish first. “Your car works now,” the girl said and pointed at the air conditioning button.

Jennifer thought the comment odd but tried the ignition anyway. It started right up and the A/C turned on. It was 9:30 a.m. and already blazing hot. The girl showed appreciation with a smile. Of course, Jennifer hadn’t noticed the heat while she had wandered all over town before surrendering to that still small voice and compelling feeling to head down Valley Drive.

Jennifer grew even more uneasy. She didn’t know that one of God’s messengers was sitting next to her.

The messenger wondered what in the world she thought she was doing. The girl thought she had just become delirious in the heat. It must not have been God. The dream was just that, another of many. She reached for the door handle.

Jennifer noticed the ever so subtle twitch of her hand and secretly edged her on. She reached in her purse to grab some of the plentiful cash she always carried; some of Rico’s tendencies had rubbed off on her. It made sense to her that that was what the young lady had hoped for.

Instead of opening the door the young woman turned and with a powerful sense of conviction looked the very well dressed and refined-looking Jennifer straight in the eye.

Jennifer froze with her hand in her purse.

“Jesus wants to know if you are tired of the emptiness inside you. You keep running away, Jennifer. All He wants is to fill you to overflowing with love and power. Today is the day of decision, to return to Him or not,” the girl said, now in perfect English.

Jennifer’s jaw dropped; her heart torn. She could only give a slight nod to the young woman, who had become a mirage again through Jennifer’s tears.

“But, I’ve done so many horrible things … why would he want anything to do with me now?” Jennifer said, sobbing.

Killing in combat was not the worse thing she was thinking about, but that was part of it.

“Jesus died on the cross for every sin you did and will ever do. Do you want to be unbound, delivered?”

Jennifer nodded again with more firmness.

Right there, beside a hot, New Mexico onion field, a young Mexican migrant girl guided Jennifer back to the straight and narrow path. Jennifer repeated a rededication prayer as the girl said it. She agreed to reread Romans, CHAPTER Ten, as the girl suggested.

In the same unassuming manner as she had come, the young woman exited the car, humbly accepting the two hundred dollar gift and business card Jennifer held out. At first, she refused, but Jennifer insisted. She watched the young lady walk away with more energy than before, raising the money gift up to heaven; it equaled one month’s sweat-earned wages and a fourth of the money she needed for her mother’s cancer surgery back in Mexico.

Jennifer felt freer and more unburdened than she had ever had. She drove back to the office, joy bubbling inside her spirit. Somehow, the desert green looked a brighter green. She thought about what she would tell Joey. She had expected lightning and stuff, but she didn’t see or feel anything supernatural happen … well, except for the unburdened soul. Now she knew that she knew that God was God, and a major change had occurred inside. She was ready for her new life. But, first she had to deal with Rico.

Jennifer stepped into the office and quickly got an earful from Rico, bellowing from his desk. Ignoring him, she hurried looking through her desk drawers for the Bible Joey had given her; the one she had warmly and graciously accepted before hiding it in a safe place. 

The short dedication Joey had inscribed took on new meaning; deeply touched, Jennifer smiled as she read it again and again. Quickly, she found the table of contents and pointed at Romans. The girl had told her to read Romans 10:9, in particular, for assurance of her salvation. The girl must have known Jennifer would want to complicate things and think there was something else she had to do to re-earn eternal life. According to what she read there wasn’t. In fact, she had only left her walk with Christ—a direction of travel which could lead to eternal separation. But now she was back on the right path, headed in the right direction and reconnected with the Holy Spirit. Jennifer felt ecstatic.

Rico, on the other hand, was rather perturbed. He hollered that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

On the contrary, Jacob … I was exactly where I was supposed to be; for once in a … an eternity.

CHAPTER 28

Mercifully, at least for Rico, Friday came quickly. He was getting antsy. The team, including Sarge, had been prepping and drilling for the operation for days. It was, for all practical purposes, a military op.

Mario’s aggressive, dangerous father had tired Rico. It was time for the man to come face to face with the boy’s source of protection—his guardian angels. Rico had finally caved to Joey’s pleas to get involved. Joey thought the boy needed someone to care for him to turn out different from his father, and find God. Rico was one hundred percent sure the boy was incorrigible, but everyone deserved a second chance to prove others wrong.

This strange little company of people was going to offer Mario a chance to open his eyes to a kinder world—and a different standard of existence. Rico’s and Joey’s policy was that the full force of their resources would be spent on a few people they were able to take in as clients. It made more sense than scattering resources all over the place with no focus. They knew they couldn’t save the world; but they would, at least, attempt to stop some cycles of destruction and set into motion more positive, constructive, and possibly functional, ones. Mario was one of those fortunate few people to experience such concern.

The multifaceted roots of the problems that plagued the people they protected and helped were daunting. Without employing every government and private agency’s help, as well as consoling one another when things got bad, they would have to close up their not-for-profit shop and declare the world lost. The condition they found some children in horrified even this group of hardened vets. Some of the youngsters were extremely aggressive and violent. Because of that, even though Rico greatly appreciated the unreserved—and unearned—affection Tina and Rosangelica had offered him from the moment they met, the contentment he felt after each breakthrough with some of the aggressive youngsters was immense.

But achieving each little breakthrough tortured him emotionally. Waiting for legal authority to act on behalf of clients drove him into fits of anxiety and anger. Agitated as he was, Rico never bothered to consider how quickly Joey managed to navigate the normally sluggish bureaucracy so efficiently and speedily. The police, even with somewhat expanded police powers, were often hog-tied. He would find out much later—by then it would matter little—how God responded almost instantly to her prayer-room petitions. All he experienced was frazzled nerves and testy days; then unbeknownst to him God’s hand invisibly moved things … just in time.

Mario’s case would prove the first of many great and complex security challenges in which the company would excel. In this case, Joey completely placed in Rico’s hands the seemingly insurmountable task of keeping the boy safe—the first order of business always. God told Joey to submit to Rico’s plan. She wondered if she could manage that; his plan was rather aggressive. She respected his skills without question, but this seemed like a spiritual matter to her. God told her ever so clearly, “Be still.”

Weeks earlier the first official collaboration between the police and Rico’s company had begun with this boy’s case. In an intensely debated meeting, where an unofficial hands-off understanding with the police was reached, Rico plotted a confrontation meant to deliver a forceful ultimatum—or make a bad decision by the aggressor very painful. The police had balked at several options Rico had previously offered. Finally, this one seemed agreeable. Of course, it was the one where plausible deniability by the police was possible if anything went wrong.

After some advance work at likely hangouts, the team made their move. A copy of the man’s rap sheet accidentally left open on the Lieutenant’s desk saved Rico lots of leg work finding the man’s favorite spots—often for arrests. Rico picked a time when the man and his rag tag entourage would be expected to be totally sober. Rico missed the mark on that—a near state of soberness would have to do.

Jennifer backed the cycle into a parking spot. Rico insisted she wear the new armor underneath the form-fitting leather suspender pants and equally snug tee-shirt. Even before returning to the Lord she had started heeding Joey’s counsel and had begun to gravitate toward more conservative attire. But she had worn such stuff for less honorable reasons, so she didn’t complain adamantly. Not as vociferously as Joey did when she saw the outfit, and found out who insisted on it.

The parking lot just off Valley Drive was dimly lit and slightly isolated. Her cycle was aimed at the escape route—the alley. Jennifer, leaning back on her cycle, quickly drew the attention of the arriving bogey, as expected. The bullet-proof helmet obscured much of her face, though her piercing eyes still made the men gulp as their headlights shown on her.

They seemed undecided about approaching her once they got out of their SUV.

Jennifer feigned disinterest. To Rico she had seemed disinterested about the whole affair during the briefings, but the acting parts piqued her interest finally.  

Testosterone quickly edged the not completely sober pack into an unwise decision—the game was now in Jennifer’s park.

Rico felt a sudden wave of panic. Had he prepped her properly? Was she ready?

“Hey boys, would any of you happen to be Javier Santos?” Jennifer said.

She expertly created more distraction as she gingerly dismounted the cycle. Joey, watching from nearby, almost gagged; obviously someone had practice. Jennifer placed her Bible, which she had really been reading by flashlight, into the right side leather saddlebag.

The other men stopped in their tracks—as intended—and cajoled the man, who had quickly identified himself as the man she apparently wanted. It’s my lucky day was written all over his face.

“How ‘bout a minute with you … in private?” Jennifer said.

The other men hooted and hollered. The now puff-chested Santos turned to the others and grinned.

“Honey, all you want—unless you’re a cop.”

Jennifer shook her head and said it was a personal matter. The catcalls grew louder.

“These boys … you’ll want some private time, too … after we’re done,” Santos said, turning back to grin at his buddies.

Jennifer forced herself with everything in her being not to puke right then and there. Cleaning the helmet would be too much trouble.

“Yea, whatever!”

“Maintain, Jennifer!” Rico ordered over the radio. “Draw him in, don’t repulse him!”

She realized she deserved the terseness in his voice, but it still stung.

Rico whispered into his mike, “Now is the time to ask the others to please hush up, while keeping the bogey from looking back.”

“Wilco,” she said without moving her lips. She grabbed the man’s arm teasingly and calmly told him she was going to get the “boys” to quiet down. At that moment, he didn’t care the least bit about his companions.

“Boys,” she whispered in the direction of the men as she firmly held Santos at the elbow. “Will you please keep it quiet and stay right where you’re at.”

At that exact moment tiny red dots appeared, one on each man’s chest and forehead intermittently; each laser emanated from a separate rooftop. The suddenness of the silence piqued Santos’s interest and he tried, against Jennifer’s resistance, to turn.

“Let him turn in two seconds … one … now!” Rico said.

The man gave the men, frozen-in-place, a puzzled look. Jennifer quickly distracted him again and forced him to turn so that the dots could reappear.

Jennifer stepped away and did the Jekyll and Hyde thing. Her posture hinted a new game had started. She was ready. In a very different tone than before, she turned to tell the frozen group that they were not to move, regardless of what happened. “Do we understand that gentlemen?”

They all nodded in agreement, even as the now slightly annoyed behemoth of a man turned to show them his distaste for taking commands from this woman. The dots disappeared again.

“Mr. Santos, it seems we have some business to attend to,” Jennifer said, deflecting Rico’s terseness on to him.

Jennifer’s open hand on his chest stopped the now tense Santos from joining his friends. This clearly agitated him. He released the standard macho gibberish; a tirade of expletives.

The moment he was done, Jennifer spoke. “I’m here to deliver a message to you. A one time, free of charge warning if you will.” She got on a roll. “You are to leave your son alone, from here until you see the other side of eternity.”

“Almost poetic, Jennifer,” Rico said with a slight light-heartedness in his voice.

“Thanks … shut up,” Jennifer said under her breath, of course relieved to hear a calmer boss. Again, her lips didn’t move, and she was sure Rico hadn’t heard the last part because she had barely even heard herself.

“I heard that!”

“This dang radio system is too sensitive. By the way … why am I here and not you?” Why didn’t she leave well enough alone and keep him in a good mood?

Good question, the others thought.

“Focus,” he ordered. That worked.

In that split second the man turned to leave in outright anger. “Why that little piece of garbage. I was taking a break from finding him today, but now that he sent some stupid girl friend to fight his battles, I’ll find him tonight!”

It struck him odd how his buddies didn’t seem to want to move, weren’t saying a word, nor were showing any emotion. Their eyes looked strange. They must have juiced up and didn’t share with him.

“Maybe you would like to see what this girl intends to teach you?” Jennifer asked. “Or perhaps you’re chicken?”

That worked, again. The tired cliché seemed always to work.

“As a matter-of-fact!” The man stopped and turned in his tracks. His face took on a sinister look; eyes got bigger, an open palm rubbed his chin and mustache.

Jennifer wondered how many times little Mario had to endure that fearsome look. For a split second it even shocked her.

“After I’m done with that loser … I’ll be in the pen for a lonnnng time, so I’m gonna have me some fun right now!”

The man gruffly grabbed his crotch, mocking her.

“I gonna kill him!”

“No!” a chorus of barely maintained whispers boomed through her earpiece, almost bursting ear drums. She jerked her head and said, “Ow.”

The man became suspicious.

She spoke again through gritted teeth, “OK, Mister, today is your kinda, sorta lucky day.”

Good, she’s back to her senses, thought the three on the roof tops.

“Today, I might break only one or two legs … and then again, maybe an arm … or two … if you don’t cooperate. But, by accident you might find your pitiful self in traction for a long, long time!”

The three on the roof tops groaned, “Oh, no!”

The man reached for her with a wrath burning in his brains and loins. “Let me get a feel of that firm body I’m about to enjoy!”

Within seconds the man was lying prostrate on the ground. He used his arms to drag his body and face from out of the puddle it ended up in; two fractured legs kept him from standing or even kneeling. The man writhed, barely able to groan. Even if Jennifer hadn’t struck his throat with a solid blow, the man’s screaming would not have been heard much above the blaring music emanating from the bar. It was a gruesome sight, even for the veterans on the roof.

Jennifer walked over to the man’s side just as a police patrol sped passed. Blue and red lights reflected off buildings as the patrol looked for a place to make a quick u-turn. It jumped the center divider instead.

“Mr. Santos,” Jennifer said loudly through greeted teeth. “Are we communicating more clearly now? Are you going to want traction today … or tomorrow … or the next day?” The man could barely answer. “If you do not answer me in two seconds before the police get here, I’ll take it as a no and make traction a fact of life for you, free of charge.”

“Jennifer! Get out of there now! What are you doing?” Rico ordered.

The three snipers—armed only with sleeper-dart loaded rifles—were loading up their gear by then.

“Finishing the job. You didn’t see this man’s face!”

The three shook their heads. They hoped she was bluffing the man, hopefully out of town.

“No! No! I don’t need any more pain,” Santos huffed out just in time. By then he was sobbing. “Who the hell are you?”

How many times have I heard that? She had heard it often in Arabic and Farsi, albeit without the hell part. “Just someone that wants you out of town; but, if you stay …” she paused to consider if she wanted to give him that leeway. “… I highly recommend that when you see Mario out and about, that you cross the street quickly. I live here and I’ll be watching. You leave him alone and you … well, get to live a normal life, if you can call this pathetic life of yours normal.”

Jennifer mounted her iron steed just as the police patrol drove up with its lights flashing.

“Hold it right there!” The PA boomed.

Jennifer didn’t … she just yelled that the man seemed to be in need of an ambulance. She casually pointed at the still writhing man, then made the cycle scream and screeched the tires all the way into the alley.

The man’s friends edged toward the whimpering lump as the cycle smoke cleared.

“Hold it right there!” the patrol officer yelled again over the PA. The siren blared as he finished calling in for an ambulance. The pursuit ended before it started as the dispatcher directed him to abort the pursuit. 

“But … I have a fleeing assault suspect!”

The man reluctantly obeyed. The officer’s frustration grew as he waited for the ambulance. Someone at the department had forgotten to brief the on-coming shift about the look-the-other-way arrangement.

The ensuing interview of the witnesses conveniently proved useless. They refused to offer any information. The cover team was now driving three separate cars back to base.

Joey and Jennifer had a long into-the-night talk. Jennifer’s aggressive tendencies had Joey worried; Jennifer’s aggressive tendencies? Jennifer had her own observations to mention. The point well taken, the two agreed to be accountable to each other. They ended with prayer, forging an eternal kind of bond—one that would be tested soon.

Nevertheless, it was a very productive night indeed.    

CHAPTER 29

One week later a Lieutenant Barrientos called.

“It’s about what?” he asked Joey who was filling in for Jennifer and was forwarding the call. His voice didn’t reveal the tenseness he felt; Santos had discovered Jennifer’s identity and had filed charges he was sure.

“Something about an urgent case.”

Joey kept from Rico that she knew the man personally. She asked the lieutenant to keep her out of it and deal with matters pertaining to her husband directly with him—but a little information leak was acceptable. The lieutenant didn’t know what the big deal was, but he agreed. She didn’t offer that someone like Rico would want to build his own reputation and not ride anyone’s coattails, especially his wife’s.

“Oh! That. All righty ... I’ll take it then,” Rico said.

The lieutenant wanted to meet with him for lunch to discuss and meet a potential client who was currently in police protection. The two agreed to meet in Rico’s conference room. Rico thought the man sounded strangely excited about that. Perhaps they didn’t let police lieutenants out of their cages much.

In reality, the lieutenant was enthusiastic about seeing the 120-inch diagonal plasma screen Joey had mentioned, or whined about Rico buying, at a meeting with him earlier in the week. He tried to get an invite to watch a game. Joey told him that was Rico’s domain, knowing already that she was in deep doo-doo.

The lieutenant and the potential client arrived at noon. A plain-clothes officer remained outside and roamed about. Barrientos entered the conference room, stuck his nose up in the air and took a deep whiff.

“I’ll take a cup of that Columbian, Jo … Mrs. Black, I mean Rico. Oh, would you like a cup too ma’am?” the lieutenant asked his charge.

He seems a little nervous, Rico considered. Rather cozy with Joey, too. “A coffee connoisseur, I see,” Rico said to break the ice. Of course, you’re a cop.

“And besides that nice smelling herbal tea I can discern something cinnamony in the kitchen.”

Yep, a veteran, Rico thought as he grudgingly rose to bring the leftover morning rolls from the kitchen. His expression when he placed the now steaming rolls on the table told the lieutenant that Rico’s warmth had expired.

“Mr. Rico, this is Jessica Putman. Mrs. Putman, Mr. Rico,” the lieutenant cordially introduced.

Rico and Putman shook hands lightly. Rico tried not to let his eyes wander to the large bruise above her left eye or the bandaged right cheek. Never mind the purple bruising around her neck. A slightly off canter nose gave evidence of the woman’s previous sufferings. She didn’t look at him, at least not directly.

“Hello, Mrs. Putman,” Rico’s voice crackled just enough for Jennifer and Joey to notice.   

They shot him a stern look he could feel more than see. He could just hear them thinking, Jacob, get it together!

“I told the lieutenant,” Rico continued, “I would have my associates at this meeting. I hope it’s okay.”

The woman nodded.

“This is my wife and vice president, Joey. These are my people, Jennifer, and Rafael, known as Sarge. These agents, along with an armed private security company I use, would provide for your safety.”

Rico waited for each to shake hands with the overwhelmed lady. It didn’t help his nerves as her shirt sleeve slid up to expose more purplish bruising. He felt embarrassed ... no, pain ... for her. Did anyone in the business ever get used to these kinds of things? Joey hid her discomfort much better than he did. Jennifer just had a blank stare. Sarge seemed unmoved.

Doubts overwhelmed Rico about whether he could protect her without killing the person who did it. His agents’ roles would be to whisk her away from any danger. He had all the confidence in them; would he be able to control his rage if a confrontation occurred in his presence, was the question.

Get a grip Jacob! They’re just bruises for heaven’s sake! Rico thought, excusing himself to the restroom.

Jennifer figured he was dealing with a nasty memory. She followed him to the restroom doorway, avoiding Joey’s glare.

Rico whispered in Jennifer’s ear that he needed her to cover for him in the meeting while he managed. He didn’t tell her, but he was trying to suppress a resurfacing memory of when he had to pull a commando, a good friend, off the wife who by then had died from a single blow to the face. A fit of anger and PTSD induced delusions had overcome the Iraq War veteran. Rico had warned the woman, his friend as well, to seek shelter until the man sought help. She thought she could turn him around alone.

 Rico remembered that his dead friend had not had too many more visible bruises than the lady now seeking his protection. This was his new company’s first case of this sort; one where the other side had boundless financial resources to cause harm. He considered the potential for hired guns to get in the mix. Though not a real probability so far, it gnawed on Rico. He wondered if he had the stomach … to fail again.   

Jennifer returned with a drink in hand to defer attention.

Rico followed a minute later. “Sorry, Ma’am, the jalapeños were more than I bargained for.”

That seemed to ease the visitor’s nerves—and Joey’s.

Everyone else did their best to help Mrs. Putman feel at home and insisted she grab a sandwich. As they ate, Joey and Jennifer outlined to the woman their extensive qualifications. That alone did wonders for her nerves.

The lieutenant courteously served her some coffee while he inspected the plasma screen TV. Rico noticed, but wasn’t the least bit in the mood to make nice with the stranger. His mind still raced.

All chatted quietly until they had enough to eat. Rico waited to be sure the lady was reasonably at ease before unloading some tough questions on her.

“All right folks, if everyone will take a seat, we’ll get started,” Rico announced. Everyone who hadn’t been sitting did as he asked. Joey sat, wondering why he sounded so solemn.

“Mrs. Putman, I have some questions for you. Some of these questions will not be very pleasant. They are, however, crucial for me to be able to keep you, as well as my crew, safe.” They all knew what he meant. “Are you willing to answer truthfully as best you can?”

Before answering, the lady looked at the lieutenant for reassurance. He nodded an affirmation.

“Yes, Mr. Rico,” she whispered.

“First, are you willing to agree to and sign an agreement with my company to never reveal to anyone the procedures, safe-houses or identities of myself or my agents? That would include giving out the name of this company, except in a court of law, or to a possible client.”

“Yes, I’ll sign the agreement,” she said tepidly, avoiding eye contact again.

“Good. Now … to the first of the tough questions. Are you prepared to abandon every aspect of your relationship with your former spouse until such time as you are under our protection, and to obey our directives when we sense danger?”

The ambiance got a little tense. 

“Yes, I’m done being abused and fearing for my children’s safety. I will follow your instructions.”

Children? No one mentioned children. Rico felt she was being too agreeable, too soon. From his research and stories gleaned from the field he knew many women in this stage of separation tended to digress after some persuasive speech from the estranged spouse. For many, the decision to give their partner one last chance, an average of fourteen times, had proven fatal. This particular man, according to the lieutenant, besides money, had enormous clout, influence and certain kinds of connections—the level of these connections beyond the newly promoted lieutenant’s imagination.

“I want to clarify something ...” Rico paused to consider what he was about to say. “... if you decide to return to your spouse sometime in the future, and you tell him what we did to protect you, these people and our future clients will all be in grave danger if that person shares that information out of spite … or whatever. Do you understand me ma’am?”

Joey didn’t understand why Rico was being so blunt, and seemingly harsh.

“I think she already answered that Jacob,” Joey whispered into Rico’s ear.

His face didn’t display the ire she had aroused, though the eyes couldn’t completely conceal it.

“It’s, OK!” The lady announced softly. “I wouldn’t trust this man with my life if he wasn’t so concerned for those that work alongside him, or his loved ones. Why would he give his everything to protect me … which is what I need, if he didn’t first care about his own,” Mrs. Putman finished, tapering off into the softest of whispers; it looked like exasperation to the others.

They watched her with compassion burning in them, even Sarge. Everyone waited in silent thought.

“Thank you… for understanding, ma’am. I take it that you will not disseminate any information to anyone then?”

She shook her head.

“I am told that you are also to be protected as a state witness against your estranged husband. Since he has the means to hire some help, we would like to keep you in a safe house. Are you in agreement with that?”

“Where?”

“Excuse me?” Rico wasn’t prepared for the lack of resistance in leaving her long-time home. Where was the argument about creature comforts, and the loss of identity; or at least her bed?

“Where is your safe house?”

“Well … uhm … Joey.”

“That would be here for now. The apartment is maxed out at the moment. We have a bedroom upstairs. You would have freedom of movement and one of us can escort you on errands. In a day or two Jennifer will sign a lease at a gated apartment complex,” Joey offered.

“Good deal. Is that acceptable to you Ms. Putman, lieutenant?” Rico said, very relieved logistics he had forgotten about were going so well.

“Yes,” Mrs. Putman said. The lieutenant only nodded in agreement.

 “The only thing left is for you to get some of your belongings. Then the team will orient you on some safety procedures. The first is to carry this cell phone at all times. If you get separated from your escort you can call us; or if under duress, conceal it on your person and we’ll track you through the built-in GPS.”

Mrs. Putman quietly signed the three electronic forms Rico provided her.

“Well, that should be about it for now. We will be back in about an hour with Ms. Putman’s bags and a small mountain of my department’s paperwork,” the lieutenant announced.

“Can I talk to you in private for a second, Lieutenant? Joey, could you show Ms. Putman the upstairs room?” Rico asked quietly.

Joey graciously guided the lady up the stairs.

The lieutenant waited. Here it comes! He’s going to invite me to a game, he thought gleefully.

“I need you to stall entering the transfer of Ms. Putman to my control into the database,” Rico said.

“Say what?”

“Bury the documents that show the transfer to me and enter them into the electronic database later. If your superiors direct you to do it right away, that’s fine, but I’d like to be informed when it happens.”

“Joey never mentioned you had a paranoid side,” blurted the man in a murmur.

“What? What does Joey have to do with this?”

Oops! “Oh … I know Joey somewhat, and I called her when I saw her name as a reference on your background request from the shelter,” he muttered, hoping he sounded believable.

Rico sensed he was blowing smoke, but figured it had to do with Joey keeping some secret; probably that homeless thing.

“Another thing, for our purposes my client’s new name is … uhm … Marcy. Yea, that’ll work.”

“Marcy? He couldn’t come up with anything else?” the lieutenant muttered as he started out the conference room door. “Oh! I was admiring your big screen. It’s a beauty. I …”

“It’s for training and meetings,” Rico interrupted.

The deflated man had his answer; no sports at the casa de los Ricos … yet. The lieutenant and Mrs. Putman, now Marcy, departed.

One hour later they trudged in with several large suitcases. She seemed resigned to a new, and possibly extended secluded, life on the run.

Rico’s alarms went off again when he noticed what looked like children’s suitcases. His antennae had gone up when the lady had mentioned children. Up until the time she got back he had shrugged it off. But something felt wrong. The lieutenant was leaving something out. The understanding was that the company could handle up to a medium and short-term risk. The short-term part would prove accurate; but the risk assessment sitting on the police chief’s desk was off the mark and conducted by an overworked officer.    

For now, as far as Rico and his agents were concerned, prudent caution and minimal exposure would suffice. His staff would deal with Mrs. Putman and he would step in when the children appeared. Somehow, the nagging foreboding wouldn’t budge when his thoughts turned to the kids. He decided right then on being the only agent assigned to them if they came into the picture. He had excellent agents, but for surprises? After some self-talk, Rico settled in his mind that his crew was totally skill ready, but wondered a lot whether he was ready. He’d just have to wing it.

A dismissal or an indictment was only four weeks away. Rico and company had gone through this same process before numerous times with other clients. The police department quickly saw how aptly the company handled each client that they tasked him with; each one with unique needs and levels of protection requirements. Private clients likewise received excellent protection.

The techniques and procedures Jennifer and Rico developed on the fly worked extremely well. And the confident, yet gentle, demeanor Rico demanded of the protection team made the clients obey some of the more arduous security procedures they had to follow. Then there was the Hyundai contract price for the Cadillac product. The only charges were incidental expenses and overtime for particular cases.

Rico noticed that Joey had a magic touch when it came to calming new female and male clients’ nerves—a one eighty compared to the tempers she roused as a beat reporter. They seemed strangely serene to him after Joey had her one-on-one talk with them; and, to his dismay, always done in private. He wondered constantly what the talk could possibly entail.

So went the next two weeks in Rico’s small company—many quiet days—with the exception of response exercises and two minor run-ins with much less financially endowed, though no less hostile, estranged spouses. They proved easily managed inconveniences.

CHAPTER 30

Five weeks had passed since Jennifer had ordered the Smart Truck. The process had taken a couple of resubmissions and Rico speaking to representatives of the Justice and Homeland Security departments to finalize the order. It was either a huge bureaucratic blunder that the purchase and delivery were approved, or someone very high up in the food chain had kindly cleared it through. Since ignorance was bliss, Rico was going to be in bliss. Actually, the vehicle was ready at the nearby Fort Bliss Army Post.

Rico was unaware that in the months while he was in transition from the coast to the desert, even orders of a few Taser-guns by any nongovernmental agency triggered alarms in the halls of the security apparatuses. For all practical purposes he should have been put through the interrogation ringer regarding the intent to purchase the heavily armored tank, albeit only defensively equipped. No matter how it happened, the juiced up vehicle had come just in time.

Joey drove him to the Army post and dropped him off at the gate. Rico returned to Las Cruces later that day and stored the vehicle at a storage unit. He grabbed a taxi home.

The next day Rico gave in to Joey’s and Jennifer’s daily badgering to conduct another company meeting. Conveniently, since it was their idea, Rico tasked them with organizing it. He had critical things to do, after all.

Working efficiently, the two organized a sophisticated electronic presentation elaborating on the earlier vision statement, adding a mission statement and the year’s goals.

Meanwhile, Rico faded away into his new preferred reality, learning about the intricacies of his most expensive toy to-date. He didn’t tell Jennifer where he would be; but she would get snoopy. 

Rico drove the Smart Truck to the Rio Grande and parked at La Llorona Park. He began browsing through the various sections of the voluminous user’s guide. He noticed a tab, Using the voice controlled computer. “That sounds interesting,” he mumbled.

Suddenly, Joey’s words rushed in from some deep—really deep—recess of his mind and hammered him hard. “The world doesn’t revolve around you.” Joey’s voice had been low and with a measure of tenderness when she had said them, but just then they boomed and cut to the quick. Rico shook his head to make the words go away—as if the truth just up and leaves that easily after announcing itself. He had to get to his important work. A little rationalizing here, a little there, and the booming words were but a fading echo. The world, his world, was again placid.

In minutes he was ready for the basics. He recorded his voice as the primary or master voice as per the written instructions. According to the guide, his voice would override any other authorized user’s commands if they contradicted. The standard accessory commands were entertaining enough, but he was quickly drawn to the Battle Station Control Console. The manual used the acronym BSCC. It offered a redundant system consisting of parallel control panels.

The driver’s control console was an overhead duplicate of the battle station console that was positioned just behind the passenger seat. Each one had a rolling titanium cover that was opened independently via voice command, key, or the thumb print reader.

“Computer…” he said. The computer acknowledged with a beep. “… open control panel one.”

Without further response from the computer, the panel rolled open in a silky smooth, silent second.

“Nice!” he blurted as he stared at the fully equipped panel. Only two switch and light slots had dummy covers instead of operational devices. The fire buttons for the not included rocket tubes and their respective rockets belonged there. Even then, way more stuff was operational than he had dreamed of. He had thought he was going to get a totally barebones, stripped down model.

Apparently, the government is taking a more lenient approach, he thought. He was impressed at having only to whisper and tested the sensitivity at various volumes. He acted like a kid in a one-child family who had received a large Christmas bonus check.

Rico was ready to close up when, as he admired and brushed his fingers along the lit up rocker and flip switches, he accidentally flipped one. He closed his eyes expecting a bang. Instead, he heard the clanging of metal for a second.

The tiny lettering on the switch read, “Tire PD.”

“Whew!” he sighed. He would have to read about how to replace the road spikes, or piercing devices. Gingerly, he gathered them up and tossed them under the driver’s seat. Before closing the cover, he studied some of the other buttons he might have to use in the near future: front, rear, left, and right strobe light; oil; smoke; electronics disrupter; tube-launched vehicle electronics disruptor; and finally, an internal and external radio emissions disrupter. He studied the table in the manual and did mental drills on the acronyms and corresponding flip switches.

“Computer …”

“Beep.”

“… close control panel one,” he whispered, wearing a big grin … until Joey’s words resounded again. “OK! OK! I’m selfish and I need to change. I’m trying Joey!” he blurted.

Rico tried shaking it off during the drive back to the office. He took some sleeping pills along with some more pain pills before he went back in the house. It was almost 1:00 p.m. Rico passed by Jennifer and said a wimpy hello on his way upstairs. He asked her to wake him at around five.

Jennifer considered stopping him and forcing him to talk it out; instead, she talked herself back into her seat. She hoped and prayed that it was such a simple matter as just another headache. But, then again … Now her concentration was shot and her studying went out the window. It was time for some recreational reading anyway, she figured.

CHAPTER 31

 It was 6:15 p.m. Everyone of consequence was there: Joey, Jennifer, Sarge and his crew. Rico trailed in last after checking in on Marcy who was upstairs. She seemed quite calm and peaceful enjoying Rosangelica’s gracious company.

Cohen was already on the screen via video link from New York—Joey’s idea. Rico hadn’t intended for the man to be part of this particular meeting and right then decided to keep him on line only until they finished with the vision, mission and goal statements. 

Rico still had a nagging in his gut about the man’s deeper motives. Because of that, he wasn’t ready to make him privy to operational matters.

Joey motioned to Rico to take the podium—a nice, microphone equipped, modern looking one Jennifer had picked out. He just nodded and remained seated, a look of deep thought on his face. What is it about this guy; I trust him … but.

Joey grew impatient, and then remembered how nervous he got when he had to speak in front of groups of people. Thinking that was it, she casually and gleefully stepped up and slightly adjusted the microphone. “Hi, folks. In a couple of minutes Jacob … Mr. Rico …” she teased, “… will initiate our first official company meeting.” There had been other, unofficial, planning type meetings, but no official business meeting.

It was about darned time, she wanted to add.

Her smile got bigger as everyone whooped and hollered.

You’re not helping, Joey! Rico thought.

“I would just like to say, Shelley, that we’re glad you are supporting your husband, Rafael. By doing so you’re helping this little company to grow and do a fine job for people,” Joey continued. Though she was sincere, she wondered how long she would have to extend the chatter.

It was then or never. Rico stood, taking in a deep concealed breath. Joey took the cue. “Folks, please welcome the founder and president of this corporation.”

The group applauded and offered large smiles. Rico noticed on the teleconference screen that Cohen was also smiling and applauding. Is the man really enthused or a good actor? The guy seems sincere enough.

“You people are too much!” Rico blurted as he shook he head. The group got even louder. He waited to steady his knees. “I want to also thank you, my team, for doing such an outstanding job from the very beginning.”

The room grew respectfully silent.

“Now, I would like to formally share with you what this company is about and where we’re headed. We all heard last time what the two brains of this organization conjured up for a vision, and I’m sure you were all as impressed as I was. I want to preface what new things they will be presenting in a minute by sharing a little something with you folks. And that is this; we are here to help keep people safe. Yes, we need to be proficient at making money to do that, but that will not be the overarching reason for our existence.

“We will be serving an extremely varied group of clients. We do that through three companies. The primary is the nonprofit one called Domestic Abuse Protective Services. The two profit making ones are the Southwest Executive Protection Services and Protective Technologies Testing Company. They are incorporated under the umbrella of National Security Agents, Inc.

“I have no doubt that I’ve assembled the most professional, and respectful, group of agents in the business. The family members assembled here are just an added bonus whose value cannot be measured by any standard I know of. I hope it continues to be that kind of company, even if the head honcho is out of the picture.” 

Joey and Jennifer looked at each other, each with a slight shrug. Rico eyed Cohen’s face on the screen—nothing but an attentive look. 

“I just want to say welcome to National Security Agents first corporate board meeting.”

Rico waited for the hoopla to die down. He thought he caught a hint of feigning in the smile on Cohen’s face. The digital image on the screen was so clear that Rico couldn’t also help notice the wrinkle of concern in the corner of wise-looking man’s eyes when for a microsecond he dropped his guard. Was Rico imagining things or had he also noticed a foreboding sadness almost that same instance?

Rico had stolen a quick peek into the man’s soul, and it seemed, after Rico thought about it, that this was not coincidental. What did it mean? Maybe more of the delusional stuff his mind had started conjuring up. He had to brush it off before he lost his bearings.

“The two real bosses will now quickly review the company’s vision and structure. Then after we bid Cohen farewell, they will provide some general information in the area of our current client status and some operational field and office procedures. As if you don’t already know them, here are the Vice President, Joey, and her partner in crime, our DSO, Director of Security Operations, Jennifer.”

The place went wild. Rico was glad to fade to background. Everyone got a good laugh when the two wives in the room started chanting, “Girl power … girl power!”

Cohen applauded along with everyone else. This is a corporate meeting? he mused, chuckling privately. He wore a subdued grin; one Rico, eyeing the screen from the corner of his eye, couldn’t exactly make out.

Rico was pleasantly surprised at the two women’s preparedness. He had heard many high-powered presentations given before Pentagon officials and congressional committee members. In his mind the two were easily of that caliber.

Regularly, he felt like a boy scout among pros when he was around them, though they would never have guessed. It was interesting how less able persons could conceal the fact; or did they compensate?

They gave a concise thirty-minute briefing, then opened the floor for questions. They asked about the company structure, mainly about positions that would be forthcoming. The vision and goals had been clearly outlined and no one asked for clarification.

Cohen was about to be dismissed from the meeting, when things got interesting. Jennifer spoke into the camera and informed him that she was going to cut the feed. The man nodded in response and let out an extended blurb in Hebrew. Apparently, he had inadvertently slipped into his mother language. He realized it when he saw the puzzled looks on the crowd’s faces and was about to translate when Joey, to everyone’s surprise, responded.

Joey spoke in what sounded like the language Cohen had spoken in. It seemed to be the correct response to whatever Cohen had said or asked as evidenced by his more than surprised smiling and nodding. The two held a thirty second tête-à-tête and then Joey signaled Jennifer with a nod to cut the feed.

Joey seemed perplexed, or troubled, about what Cohen had said at the end. She stared at the table top.

Everyone else was just perplexed period, and gave Joey puzzled looks. She thought it was about what she was puzzled about.

“What?” she asked no one in particular.

“How did you know what he was saying, and how come you could answer him back?” Jennifer whispered in her ear.

Rico leaned in, very interested in her response. He was sure she had been holding out on a little secret or something.

“Duh!” Joey said, thinking it was some joke. “Everyone here speaks English.”

“Uh hum.” Jennifer mumbled. “Yes, Joey we all do. Mr. Cohen, however, was speaking what had to be Hebrew.”

Joey blushed and took a seat to avert everyone’s stare. Jennifer proceeded with the meeting while Rico shot Joey a strange look.

Was he angry about something? Or was he playing along with what must be a practical joke, Joey wondered. Rico would later avoid the subject, but Jennifer would drill her about the matter. Joey was no less curious about her apparent linguistic secret. Little did they know that speaking anything other than English or Spanish, with broken Arabic sprinkled in, wasn’t her doing, or that it hadn’t occurred before then.

Meanwhile, Jennifer moved on to the particulars of the current clientele and the security procedures established for each. The women had wisely structured the tail end of the meeting as a strategy building open forum. Anyone, including the spouses, could comment on weaknesses or incorrect assumptions in planning.

Then Joey stood to continue directing the meeting. “As you all know, Jennifer coordinates all tasking for client protection. She’ll fill us in on the current picture regarding clients. Jennifer.”

The two didn’t miss a beat. When they had business to attend to they took care of it.

“I decided it would be wise to divide our clientele for tracking purposes,” Jennifer said.

Rico smiled. She was getting to be a sage of sorts lately.

 Jennifer laid out the client load. She mentioned three particularly challenging ones.

“What type of threat is posed to those three?” Sarge’s wife asked.

The others were surprised that she was showing interest. In fact, she was quite intrigued by the protection stuff. Sarge hadn’t seen that side of her. It passed through Rico’s thoughts that she was an agent in the making. Sarge would have something to say about that.

“Estranged lovers for two of them,” Jennifer said. “And a whole family of ticked off druggies for the other. Her former in-laws were vicious. Even though they aren’t sophisticated enough to track this client, a chance encounter would most likely result in some serious bodily harm. The rap sheet for each member is extensive. They seem to think she turned snitch … I mean … informant, with the cops.”

“Why do we only have ten of these Group GSC’s (Government Sponsored Clients)?” Joey inquired. “I know the police department is inundated with protection requests.”

Rico wondered how she knew that tidbit of information. She sounded as if it was first hand knowledge.

“I ask this because we should have enough funding for more,” Joey said. She gave him a passing glance. Yes, Honey, you bet I’m keeping an eye on the books.

“The size of our force,” Jennifer explained. “But, the real show stopper is housing. The apartment we use right now could hold six clients and one of us. The owners wouldn’t stand for that though. And, cabin fever is setting in on the three we have there. We take them all over town as needed, but the risks and vulnerabilities are high … Cruces isn’t all that big. Wintertime is going to exacerbate the cabin fever problem further. The second apartment is too small, but more secure.”

What winter? Rico wondered.

Everyone was mulling over a possible solution. Each solution offered only provided temporary and limited improvements to the picture. A few minutes passed and everyone was stumped. Joey noticed Rico had a smirk on his face.

“What’s on your mind?” she said in Spanish without realizing it.

Jennifer found it interesting that they could switch languages and not know it. She asked Joey what she had just said. Joey thought it funny that Jennifer was asking, because she had just said it.

“Habla en ingles, mujer,” Rico answered teasingly.

“Oh!”

“I have good news about solving that very problem,” Rico offered, remaining in his seat. “It’s amazing how things fall into place. We have a positive coincidence at this juncture. But, I’m only going to share it if Joey promises not to hit me.”

“Promise, Joey, promise!” Rico had assembled an interesting group of people. He thought perhaps they were crazier than he had intended. But he realized that he had a darned good thing going. Then a wave of melancholy suddenly overwhelmed him.

Can’t say I didn’t enjoy a fulfilled life when I pass on to the great beyond! he thought, realizing via an almost physical pain in his chest what he was really putting on the table of sacrifice.

Reluctantly, Joey assented. That wasn’t enough for the crowd. Again they let out a chorus.

Rico was glad the Mossad veteran, Cohen, wasn’t still watching.

“Oh! Ok!” she finally said. “I promise not to hit Jacob … today.”

Rico half smiled while the others grinned.

“I have papers ready to sign,” Rico offered, “to close on a nice safe house a few miles south of here. Once Joey checks it out and approves, that is.”

He stopped and gave most everyone a glance.

That’s great, but no big deal, everyone thought. Respectful silence filled the room, their faces for once expressionless, looking at Joey.

“I’ll try going tomorrow,” Joey belatedly said; that made everyone jubilant, except her.

Something told her he probably went overboard on a house; a near million dollar one certainly fit the bill. She would argue adamantly for days, but the group ganging up on her would break her down.

For everyone except Joey, the night ended on a chirpy note. 

Later in bed, Joey’s slightly agitated look about what Cohen had said during the meeting was still bothering Rico; and then scolding him for not consulting with her about the house first wasn’t very nice. Couldn’t she have waited until they were alone to chastise him? After all, he was doing a good thing!

CHAPTER 32

 Rico was growing accustomed to the relatively slow pace of family life since the lively meeting days before. Now, partially by his design, things would speed up exponentially starting this morning. He needed to gain some ground on the bigger plan.

Armed with information from some contacts back in San Diego about some helpful technology minded blogs, he went fishing. He had a hunch that the computer whiz—a.k.a. hacker—he was going to need could be found in one of them. He couldn’t very well advertise for a hacker in the newspaper.

All I gotta do is find a blog that geeks who like challenges would gravitate to, he thought.

He monitored the politically and technologically oriented dialogue for a few minutes. Intriguing combination, he thought. Just as he was about to enter into the fray Joey stepped in.

“Hey Sweetie Pie. Let’s go eat,” she said as she hugged him from behind.

“I’m working right now, can you wait please?”

The tartness in his voice and stiffening body threw her off balance.

“I don’t like that tone of voice, Jacob,” she snapped, standing to leave.

“Wait!” he blurted out. “I’m sorry. I just get into what I’m doing and sometimes it’s sensitive stuff. How about if we come to an agreement that if I’m on the computer, or phone, you’ll test the waters to see if the timing is good. Agreed?” he asked, waving her over to sit on his lap.

She hesitated an agonizing thirty seconds, but an urge for a hug and a smooch overcame her agitation. Love, and the need for it, conquered her Irish ire this morning.

“I have my two cents worth to add,” she whispered after catching her breath from a lip-lock. “If you ever talk to me in that tone of voice again, you can kiss your chance of touching this fine body again … for reals.” The piercing look in her deep blue eyes gave a solid clue that she really meant it; more than last time.

He responded with learned wisdom. “Yes, honey.”

“Te vas para Gino’s Deli while I finish up here … about ten minutes.”

“Bueno, mi amor. Of course, the more you delay, the more those young college guys will try hitting on me.”

“I ain’t got no competition in this one-cow town. College boys or not, uno mas guapo que yo, no existe,” he teased, slapping her hind parts as she left.

All attention back on the monitor, he did what he had been taught for getting onto blackboards. He wrote about how technology seemed to be helping the lower classes very little. On that blackboard the typing by the other people online stopped, until someone asked who the new person was.

Rico typed the moniker “Lion1.” He thought about what to say when they asked why he was hiding behind such a dorky screen name. The others were using cyber names too, but more techy-type ones.

Rico cursed himself for being so obvious. He responded that he was in a sensitive position that required staying in the shadows. The effect those words had on the activity that followed intrigued him.

“Government?” they asked, among other things.

The unknowns communicated via code words, typing at lightning speeds back and forth. He was only getting bits and pieces. The back and forth stopped when one named Q Factor advised the others to get off line. Another named Chimira Moon didn’t seem to like the apparent directive very much. After only Rico remained, Q asked Rico for his real name and e-mail address. If Rico wanted to talk business, this was the only way this hacker would talk to him.

Rico reluctantly gave both and waited.

Not ten minutes later Rico opened the e-mail from Q. He scrolled down the e-mail and read what sounded like techno babble nonsense. He was about to delete the supposed practical joke when the computer begin to shut down.

At first he was mad thinking the power had gone off and he hadn’t plugged the PC to the power back-up unit. Then his heart stopped when the PC completed its restart.

“What do you want Jacob Rico, former USAF GI?” scrolled across the screen. The Trojan horse Q had sent was working just fine. 

The startle Rico got was paradoxically invigorating and scary at the same time. He realized instantly that the person who had typed it was using his own screen saver! He would have been more in shock had he known that the person on the other end had every bit of his life history in front of him on another screen. This included every gunshot wound, every bandage, every run-in with the law, and ticket in the government’s supposedly secure national database. The most spine chilling of all, Q had the name and address of every associate and friend he had in his e-mail address book.

I can’t believe I’m following through with this. “Need top notch geek to help with a sensitive private matter,” he typed.

“Roswell. You set me up I’ll bankrupt your company … and turn your life upside down!” came a chilling reply. The ghost quickly signed off. 

Rico couldn’t decide whether to celebrate or cry. What a stroke of luck. Like a bolt of lighting, the fact that now he had a family struck him with a jolt. He couldn’t continue living like before, passionately and frequently seeking to intercept deadly pieces of shrapnel or hoping for a parachute to fail; he realized he had a responsibility outside himself now. He watched his mouse hand tremble as he shut down the computer. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. He ran to the bathroom for a swig of stomach medicine.

The buzz of the belt-clipped walkie-talkie gave him a startle; his trembling hand raised it to his ear. Joey suggested he hurry because all the hunks were hitting on her. He knew she was kidding, but it gave him a reason to get riled up and regain his composure. Before leaving the building, he shouted up the stairs to Jennifer. She yelled back for him to wait. She wanted a hug. The girls stomped down the stairs for one too. Rosangelica and Tina shot back up the stairs just as fast as they had come and didn’t even pause their yapping.

Jennifer lingered. “You OK?” she whispered as she embraced his tense body a second time, more firmly this time.       

She’s getting awfully mushy, he thought, instinctively squeezing back. At the very last second he caught a sob trying to escape. It had snuck up out of nowhere. He covered it up well and tried to separate. She didn’t budge.

“I’m okay … now,” he said, making no effort at concealing that he felt comforted. She’s getting mushy?

She pulled away whispering, “There’s something you’re not letting on. Before … that would make me angry. Now, it saddens me, Jacob. I’ll always be here. Please don’t build a wall just because you’re married. OK?”

Before? Before what? He nodded anyway and turned quickly to leave. The stomach medicine wasn’t working on his troubled soul. At least a dose of Jennifer tempered the ache a little; not as much as it used to though.

Jennifer didn’t move until he was well on the way. That’s not the Rico I knew, she thought. Or is it just me that’s different?

Rico hastily walked down Solano Drive, Jennifer’s words occupying his thoughts. Their echo brought him back to earth. He had a deep suspicion that God, metaphorically speaking, had sent Jennifer to save him from himself. An almost supernatural sereneness he couldn’t explain always prevailed when she was around him.

Oddly, this was the same unspoken thing she unconsciously thought about him; God, as of recent, representing more than a metaphor in her case.

How he had come to be surrounded by such affection was beyond his natural understanding. Perhaps he was looking for an answer in the wrong realm. It was a thought he occasionally entertained—a momentary lapse into nonsense.

He quickly covered the few blocks to the deli, stepping in once he felt prepared for some good cover up acting. “Did you see that hunk of a man that just walked in?” he asked Joey, referring to himself.

“Yea,” she said, smiling. “That one over there, right?” She pointed to a muscle-bound, tank-topped, tight-jeaned hunk of a young man of some twenty-two; a boy to her.

“Pleeease!” He gave the young man—boy—a “She’s with me, que miras, hombre?” friendly look since the boy was giving Joey an “I want you” look of his own.

The young man looked without the least bit of respect or trepidation right past the much older Rico. That would not cut it; Rico gave the young man a healthy stare. That worked.

Joey chuckled. “See! I still got it. I’m not as old as I thought,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Rico knew very well what she was doing. But he was puzzled about the attention she garnered. It had to be something about her quick smile and gentleness that made people notice her; because, except for the piercing blue eyes and cute freckles, she was a plain looking girl. Nonetheless, he was completely hooked.

Joey was doing a little acting of her own. Underneath she was feeling pensive, having on more than one occasion in the previous week allowed her mind to consider how much calmer her life would have been had she married the deacon who had shown considerable desire to court her. Her soul ached for those long discussions they had shared about God’s greatness and goodness, about mercy and grace evident in their lives. It nagged at her spirit that eventually Rico would find out. More disconcerting was that she knew God wasn’t pleased with the less than pure and very recent thoughts she had entertained about the man, or with the withholding of information from her husband. Soon, she knew, she would have to confess her faults to God; but Rico didn’t have to know about the thoughts she reasoned. And eventually he was bound to discover the Dodge Viper ST10 the man had given her; and which she had recently grounded and stored in her back alley detached garage. 

But why did God choose Rico? To what end? Had she misunderstood God? Had she let sentimental feelings cloud better judgment? She knew better than to be unequally yolked.

Seemingly out of nowhere, to Rico at least, she had to ask the question that no man wants to hear, “Where are we, Jacob?”

That question could mean many things. Communication? Love? Sex? Money?

Rico sat, hopeful that she didn’t mean health or money. He mulled over the question, twiddling his fingers. She twiddled her shorter, pudgier, freckled ones.

He finally had to answer as her big eyes and hand signals said, “Well!”

Even when she was annoying him, her eyes were captivating. “I can only tell you that I’m supposed to go to Roswell.”

If she had forgotten about getting involved in his business matters before his tart response just that morning, his temper slip had been a good hint that he was getting into something deep.

She raised two palms toward the air. “I won’t even ask.” See God, he hasn’t a clue about what my concerns are. That’s why I wonder about …

Now, that’s a good wife, Rico thought, while Joey secretly continued her mental digression and one way argument with God.

“When?” she finally asked.

So much for that. “Don’t exactly know to tell you the truth,” he said shrugging.

“Is that when you’ll tell me the whole plan you’re concocting?”

“By then I’ll tell you about ninety-five percent,” he mumbled.

He stood and reached for her hand.

It was an obvious diversionary tactic that she chose to play along with; the better to bury the bothersome thoughts. “Where are we going, lover boy?”

She started to give the tank top guy one last pretend look when Rico playfully wagged a finger at her. The Holy Spirit did more and said, “Why are you playing with temptation, child?”

Her lips barely moved when she muttered repentance, and her eyes looked up and closed for a split second.

Rico thought she might be getting a headache.

After leaving the deli, they meandered, hand-in-hand, toward the house. Their affection came naturally and words were only intrusive guests. Rico especially liked the quiet.

CHAPTER 33

Jennifer handled the only incident the company encountered during the week. The estranged wife of a male principal had attempted to stab her husband at the mall. Jennifer disarmed her, and mall Security quickly took control.

A lawsuit wasn’t expected since Jennifer had done everything possible to avoid the woman and evacuate the man, but the lady was just too quick on her feet. Her athleticism, coupled with a serious inner rage and some illicit substance, gave Jennifer a tougher fight than she had expected. The violence of the encounter left a good part of a store’s woman’s department in disarray. The store video camera captured clear evidence for the company’s defense if it ever went to court. And one of the Security guards, a moonlighting police officer, would be great on the stand for Jennifer, if it ever went that far.

With no other emergencies to respond to, Rico’s increasingly lengthy midday naps went more or less unnoticed. He had reduced his teaching time at the alternative high school to two hours every other day. Outings with the girls filled parts of some days. A day trip with Joey, the girls and Marcy, the client, to the City of Rocks State Park, the Gila Forest and Elephant Butte Reservoir proved relaxing, and very tiring. But it was the earned kind of tired; it felt good for the exhaustion level of his body to match his mind.

At other times, he watched the laborers and supervisor complete the finishing touches on the garage, testing the electrical system and the steel rollup door’s operation. Joey had yet to ask him directly about why the previously exposed lower areas looked so much like a basement apartment taking shape. He was sure she hadn’t missed it. There was a good chance that because further construction had covered any evidence of the outline, she would soon forget to bring it up. She was rather busy after all.

Like every other night, Joey did her nightly routine, tiptoeing across the hallway, trying to avoid waking Rosangelica. The sitting room she prayed in—something Rico was not yet aware of—was across from the master bedroom.

“I hear you Joey. I hear you every night. You don’t have to tiptoe,” Rosangelica announced in Spanish.

“Buenas noches, mija,” Joey whispered through the closed door.

Like every other night, she had already tucked her in. She was way beyond the years when it was considered normal, but the two weren’t much for upholding rigid conventions of behavior. They shared each night about what God had done for them that day. Just mother and daughter stuff.

Each night, at least forty-five minutes after starting her devotions and prayer, Joey would tiptoe back to her and Jacob’s bedroom; all prayed up and armed for whatever Satan—or these days, maybe Jacob—could conjure up to throw at her. 

“Oye, mi amor,” Joey, gingerly climbing into bed, whispered in Rico’s ear.

He was barely awake while reviewing defense equipment and weaponry periodicals, specifically Jane’s Defense Monthly and R & D Quarterly Guide.

“You and I are going to Roswell next week.”

“We?” he said, slightly more alert. “Why next week?”

“Yes, we. According to my sources there’s a Trekki and technology convention …”

“And, that means …?” He shot a quick look at her glowing face and quickly turned back to his reading.

“That means, the person you’re looking for …” she said, stopping at his nodding.

“I smell a catch to this helpfulness,” he said, ceremoniously putting down the periodicals. 

“I would really love to see you as a Star Fleet officer … like Number One,” she whispered, eyeing him with a look dripping with desire. “I just love a man in a certain uniform.”

“Ah, I don’t think so. I’m not wearing a … N and O spells ….” he announced firmly, attempting to resist the power of her come-hither look. “If I have to low crawl to avoid that, I will. I’ll get there on my own, woman!”

“Darn,” she whined. “That means I won’t have a chance to wear my Counselor Troy outfit.”

He was had. He’d seen a few reruns.

“You … um … have one of those?” he asked, almost concealing the wistfulness in his voice.

“Yup! Well ... I’ll send it back tomorrow. It’s a shame! I actually looked rather shapely in it, too. Not exactly as shapely as Troy, mind you, but mighty fine anyway,” she whispered. She rolled on her side facing away from Rico, smiling wide.

“Don’t you have to try it out … you know, to make sure it fits?”

“Fine, fits mighty fine. Now let me sleep, some of us work you know,” she mumbled into her pillow.

“Well, I guess if we’re out of town … and no one else would see me … especially Jennifer … or Sarge,” he murmured to himself. “Where would I get one of those … tights or uniforms … if I were to decide to …?”

He had all but surrendered; just the reeling in remained.

“Are you sure you can’t wear your outfit without me?” he pleaded.

“Can … won’t! Troy and Riker were a couple. Doesn’t it sound romantic to you, mi amor?”

She punctuated her whisper ever so devilishly, now facing him to make sure he could see her practicing her lipstick model pose.

Rico rolled his eyes, shook his head, and snuggled up to her. Snoring something awful minutes later, she nudged him regularly, like every night, to shut him up. And like every other night she would wait patiently as he passed through cold sweats and groaning. Hers had ended abruptly three years before, like Jennifer’s had only recently. She prayed fervently for his to do the same—and soon.

The next morning Joey was already long gone when Rico woke up. He washed up and headed downstairs for breakfast. As usual, he took his breakfast to the waiting room where he and Jennifer would chat for almost an hour before Jacob got properly dressed to do any real work. Usually, Jennifer talked incessantly about nothing in particular.

Somehow the topic veered toward their relationship. Rico wasn’t uncomfortable about it. In fact, several times since she had arrived he had tried to steer it in that direction. He had something to get out in the open—or rather, off his chest. It wasn’t so much a longing desire for her anymore, but nagging questions that hung in the air—nice questions as far as he was concerned. He wanted to view things from her perspective; he was somewhat sure at least.

“So Jacob, did you ever consider me a possible … uhm … wife?” she halfway mumbled.

“It’s interesting you brought that up,” he answered, as he considered how not to stick his foot in his mouth for the millionth time.

“No kidding! And I missed all those times you tried to hint that you wanted to discuss it,” she said.

“I’m a man, Jennifer. Men don’t discuss relationships except under threat of ….”

“Of course, we know that you don’t fit the normal mold. And to tell you the truth, I constantly flip-flop between thinking it a good thing and a bad thing,” she said straight faced.

He analyzed what she had just said and meant. “That’s borderline mean and rude.”

She bit her cinnamon roll and gestured, “Why?”

He ignored her. “Anyway … if you had been anywhere closer to my age … I would have,” he said.

“So you did fall in love with me at some point?” she asked, walking around from her desk. She peered into his eyes, snuggled up to him, and draped an arm around his shoulders.

“Cinnamon breath!”

There was no escaping a final firm answer, since she waited patiently. A smile revealed a bit of roll between her two front teeth, humanizing her perfection a bit.

“Yes. I thought I loved you at one time. You brought all sorts of excitement into my life. And …”           

“And now?” she interrupted, slightly surprised, confused, and a little agitated about the newly resurfaced tinge of romantic interest in her gut. Her face was frozen with anticipation and none of these emotions were obvious to Rico; not that he was looking at anything but a tiny speck of rock on the otherwise spotless hardwood floor.

“Now? Hmm.”

He faced a veritable mine field; it was time to weigh words carefully. But the matter needed to be brought up to the surface and dealt with head on.

“I unequivocally love you more than ever. It’s just that … now it’s like … the love for a real close friend, or cousin; while before it was more like a … well … sexual … infatuation. So … you know … now it’s not quite like that any more. And yet I am still aware of your physical … uhm … attributes … yea attributes. The more I get to know you, over again, the more I like you for you … like a sister; which makes it very unnatural when … you know.”

Jennifer enjoyed seeing him stumbling over his words; he looked so helpless. She sighed. “I’m glad about that. I always thought you might think me a dork if I ever let the real me come out. I used my looks as a distraction. When we made out, I enjoyed it … of course,” she stopped to gently slap his grinning face and head moving up and down, “… a lot. But, I was actually just looking to get to know you better … some intimacy. I never considered a different approach. And now that things have changed I’ll dress more conservatively like Joey asks to avoid … you know.”

“Thanks, it’ll help … I think. It’s probably just me though. Well, anyway we sure were confused. I’m glad we talked about this. But, you never said whether you still love me. The still dorky me, I mean,” Rico said.

“Even as you get dorkier every day, I love you very, very much,” She leaned over and gave him a longer and more tender than necessary peck on the lips.

Rico felt a little spark, only a slight heart rate increase, but quite enough. With one finger he pointed at his cheek.

Jennifer’s heart ached ever so subtly. At least now it was really finally, settled. She got up, pecked him on the cheek and walked back to her desk; things were clear and all aired out.

 “In that case you have my permission to marry some nice guy,” Rico said, wearing a big grin.

“Permission, oh, thanks Dad. I’ll keep that in mind ... if one happens to propose,” she ended in a murmur.

“We both know that any guy would have to be a complete dolt not too. Un estupido,” he added, walking over and giving her a squeeze.

“Thanks!” she whispered as she hugged back. “I feel so at home here, Jacob. Joey has made me feel so welcome. I never thought it possible to love and like another woman like I do her, even when we’ve argued. And especially after stealing my honey, but she makes it so easy. You picked an awesome lady.”

“It takes one to know one,” Rico whispered into her ear.

He considered entering into a discussion about what love meant, exactly. He was having some trouble figuring it out, tangibly. Instead, he turned and hurried up the stairs.

“That makes me love you even more, honey!” she announced loudly one more time to squeeze the most out of the moment; which happened to be the moment Joey stepped through the front door.

Jennifer felt silly. Joey felt something else.

“What was that about?” Joey asked, looking ready and hopeful for a reasonable explanation.

“He’s expecting some hunk to sweep me off my feet any time now. He’s feeling separation anxiety,” Jennifer offered nonchalantly, tidying up her already too neat desk.

“Oh, how sweet,” Joey commented. Has she been seeing someone? She heard a soft still voice in her belly tell her that things were ok. All she could do was take a deep breath and quickly head toward the kitchen. She shelved the groceries while she tried humming through a not very loving thought. I hope she finds someone soon.

CHAPTER 34

One week later Joey and Rico landed at Roswell in the rented Cessna Piper II twin prop. The two avid fliers traded landings and take-offs; Rico drew the landing straw on the eastward leg. Because of the air space restriction over the White Sands Missile Range they had a longer flight than the forty-five minute straight line flight.

A drowsy Rico almost crashed the craft when he reduced speed too much instead of increasing the pitch of the plane. He aborted the landing quickly when Joey snapped him to.

It was a cooler than normal, but sunny mid-summer day. They sat quietly and enjoyed the scenery as a taxi drove them through town, quickly forgetting the little landing adventure. 

“Interesting town,” Rico commented to the driver.

The driver just nodded.

He’s not one for conversation, Rico mused. Been here, done that, just trying to be cordial.

Actually, the man thought Rico was Arab—less than fond words twirled in the man’s head. Arab- Israeli affairs were causing the entire planet to get antsy; it almost seemed like lines were being drawn in American’s minds. Most, though, were quite indifferent.

“Boy, they really get into it,” Joey chirped as she eyed a very believable space alien strolling along a walk. “And we’ll fit right in tomorrow,” she added with a big smile.

“Oh, yippee!” Rico quipped sarcastically.

The taxi came to a stop at the hotel entrance. After checking in, the couple quickly unloaded their very light luggage in the room and took advantage of their alone time.

Before Rico knew it, his mind wandered off to thoughts about how vulnerable a position he was in, not knowing a single thing about someone who probably already knew how many hang nails he had had. Or worse, about that one combat incident he was still trying to forget.

“It’s no fun kissing a cold fish,” Joey mumbled. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Joey. It’s just a feeling of uneasiness being in the dark with this guy,” he said before catching himself.

He wished he could recall those words. Rubbing his beard he walked to the window.

“Some guy out there knew who I was in seconds. That’s spooky. It’s one thing having the government do that, another to have someone else … in an instant … zoom in on you like that. Even when I worked with spooks in Afghanistan and here in the States, I don’t recall them doing that so fast,” he pondered, his voice trailing away.

“Jacob, you’ve been out a long time, this is 2013. That spook equipment is probably available to any weirdo out there who wants to snoop.” She regretted that comment the moment it left her lips.
        “That’s exactly it! I … we are at the mercy of … possibly a 12 year-old, maybe a crazy one at that … and I just opened up myself to be a target.”

His pacing began to show a repetitive pattern. She had not seen that behavior from him before. Obviously, it wasn’t a physical threat that seemed to concern her able husband; so what could it be? 

“Ease off with the paranoia, Jacob, we’ll be fine.”

“I’m worried about the business, but mostly about the girls and your sister. I couldn’t live knowing that I lead some wacko right to them and made them victims … of whatever.”

He was actually thinking like a father.

“Stop!” she urged as she stopped his odd pacing with a hug from behind. “If it wasn’t really important for you to do … whatever you’re doing … you wouldn’t be doing this right?”

In the mirror she noted a blank stare come over him.

He figured she really meant whether he had counted the cost. His new family deserved that much, he was sure she wanted to add. In fact, he had given it less than sufficient thought. He nodded anyway.

They moved back toward the window and peered out. A warm sunset tempered both their moods.

He looked at her face and wondered how many unanswered questions she was hiding behind her serene, loving, contemplative look; questions he would have liked answered too.

She looked at him and wondered how in the world God expected her to keep the man she loved out of trouble and possibly even danger. Was that knot in her stomach related to that … or regrets?

They both slept very soundly that night. Perhaps it was because Michelle, and then the girls, had sounded very chirpy on the phone when they called. Or … perhaps, Joey’s and Jennifer’s prayers were being answered. Regardless of the reason, Rico slept more soundly than he had in years.

The convention proved more elaborate and sophisticated than the two expected. It kicked off the next morning at 10:00 a.m. Rico’s apprehension about his costume faded away as he admired countless shapely female Star Fleet characters.

He wasn’t so gleeful about some of the very fit looking male characters roaming about in their tights. Something was very, very wrong in the world when geeks were looking more like jocks—healthy jocks.

Even though they both found the convention entertaining, with Rico grabbing all sorts of technology fliers, they grew impatient. The two began to think they were the object of a malicious prank, and that they had made a wrong move. It was after 4 p.m. and way too many galaxy-class-starship chili cheese dogs … and still nothing. They figured the whole trip was a wash, but at least they had had a good time.

Just before they called it quits, a stranger approached and made small talk. They tried to judge whether the nervous mannerisms of the baby-faced, female alien were from being unpolished or from a person about to scam them. Facial features didn’t reveal any clues since they were mostly concealed behind green paint and glitter. From her voice, they concluded that she was reasonably young.  

Rico’s and Joey’s danger bells went off. They stood ready to protect themselves from a possible pick-pocket … or worse. The professionals had inadvertently walked to the fringes of all the activity as they chatted with the girl. They ended up away from the brighter lighting in the hangar-turned-convention center. They were slightly cornered, and both knew they had made a small error. Obviously, they were fully capable of disarming any threat with ease … at least Joey was. They were a little uptight nonetheless, for having made the need for defensive thinking necessary.

Joey casually snuck her hand into her waist pouch and grasped the stun device Rico insisted she carry. Evasion and escape were priority one. Her dangerous roundhouses and potentially lethal blows were to be avoided at all cost.

Joey made small talk. The girl seemed to dislike the short moments of silence.

She asked, a tremble detectable in her voice, “Are you cops? Is that your gun in there?”

She pointed to the pouch Joey’s hand was in. Joey and Rico figured it could be a good sign or a bad one just as well. Rico felt down in his gut that he had found who he was looking for.

“Why would you ask that? Are you a criminal or something?” Joey asked softly.

Good approach, Rico thought. They were in Joey’s domain.

“Who do you think we are, FBI, NSA … CIA, maybe?” Joey added.       

Rico rolled his eyes. Say, what? U-turn, Joey.

“Well … I know the FBI … the others I … But … I asked first …” the alien muttered. Her demeanor changed and her voice showed real stress.

That’s helping, good going Joey, he thought, sarcastically.

Joey looked at Rico for a hint about whether to open up or not. He nodded. What was there to lose?

“No, we are far from that. I’m Joey and this is …”

“Jacob Rico,” the girl blurted out. She still thought they were some sort of law people.

“Yes, of course you would know that,”

“You’re much better looking in person … you … have a, uh, very muscular body … and um … nice thighs … and … buns …”

Rico might have asked what visual or picture her friend had of him available. Maybe, if he had asked, she would have spilled the beans about her boyfriend high-jacking Rico’s Internet cam; the one mounted on his monitor; the one with audio; always accessible through the Internet link when the computer was on. Right then Rico was busy wondering about the young girl’s seemingly lustful eyes for him—and Joey’s coming reaction.

Joey’s cheeks became flushed, jaw opened wide. “Excuse me!”

Rico gently placed a hand on Joey’s shoulder.

He whispered in her ear, “Joey, settle down. I have this feeling it’s out of her control … Tourette's syndrome or something. Trust me. Please! OK?”

What in the world gave him that idea he didn’t know, but it proved to be accurate.

She gave him a biting look of, “Now you’re a doctor too?”

His look tempered her.

Of course, he knew it could be a con and mulled it over. He’d rather end up a sucker than injure her. It wasn’t really a request he had made, and he knew Joey had gotten the message.

The girl, near tears and covering her face, leaned her body forward to make a break but, her feet wouldn’t budge.

Rico subtly nudged Joey over to the trembling, green-skinned, green-eyed girl, age somewhere between 15 and 19, tall and lanky, almost frail. The girl winced as Joey inched toward her.

Joey gently offered her hand. “Listen, somehow I can’t believe that you would say what you just said to my husband on purpose. Am I right, that it wasn’t on purpose?”

The girl nodded nervously, eyes wide; she accepted Joey’s hand. Joey drew her closer.

“It ... it ... takes over ... when, when, when ... I, I, I, get nervous. I hate it!”

Rico’s mind had already conjured up the theory that his mystery guy was using the helpless girl to flush out any law hounds. It riled him, nonetheless acknowledging the solid move. Sympathy would move any jury to acquit the poor girl as a pawn. 

The girl paused to stare into Joey’s eyes to catch a hint of deception. She couldn’t detect any guile.

Joey forced her heart into the right spirit.

Meanwhile, Rico had gone the opposite direction mentally, hoping to get away quickly. It wasn’t as if they had anything else to do.

The girl continued, barely above a whisper, “People … people … either … either … mock me, or, or, or, or hit me. I wish I could ... could ... make this stop! I, I, I, just want to be, be, be ... norrrmal!” she said, sobbing throughout, taking a huge breath at the end.

“Listen,” Joey whispered back, fighting back tears of her own. “We, Jacob and I, are hardly normal, so we can relate. How about if we sit?” 

Oh, no Joey! Let’s go. Jacob thought.

The girl made an effort to sit, but couldn’t.

“If, if, if y, y, you … are cops … d,d,d don’t,ttake mmy boyfriend … bback … bbback … ttto … jail … ppppleeeease!”

Her chest heaved and her breathing grew extremely labored. Rico feared a heart attack, or something. They couldn’t get her to stop talking. He wondered about the “back” to jail part.

“Ththththey took hhhhim, away … one tttttime bbbbecause … he, he, he wrote something bbbad, about the government … I, I, I, try to make him stop! But, but, he says they lllllie alot. And it, its freedom of speech. I, I, I, caaan’t live without hiiim. Heeee … heeee’s the only one thhhat has never laughed at me … annnnnd llloves me.” A long breath saved her from fainting.

“Young lady,” Rico interjected. “It seems like we made a mistake. We were looking for someone to help us with something. But, it would be ...” he considered his words for Joey’s sake. “... very tricky. I don’t know if it is totally legal and all ... so I would not want to cause your … boyfriend, any trouble.”

He tried a different angle. “Are you sure you’re with this person voluntarily? Because, if you’re not, we can help. Our business is helping people in trouble, so please call if you ever need anything. We can help you start a new life. Here’s our card. OK?”

Only after he finished talking did it dawn on him that the girl could be wired. A flush came over his face. Then again it would sound good to either a law agency or the guy he was searching for; depending on their spin on it.

The girl wiped a tear, controlling one last sob as she took the business card. Rico inched closer and offered a hug. To his surprise she accepted and hugged him tightly. He got the impression she didn’t get many. He couldn’t see or feel a wire while hugging her.

“I get this sense that you are a very special person,” Rico whispered as he tried to pry himself loose.

His intuition had served him well over the years, having to judge people’s character in seconds. He was also especially gifted at sensing lying and, oddly enough, when someone needed a hug or kind word; conversely when someone required a hostile look, or action.

“You’re an important person, don’t listen to ugly people,” he said.

Ever so gently he peeled her off him.

Joey watched closely, feeling reassured that the compassion she always thought was in Rico, was really there … even with nothing to gain. It was a strange moment to get that confirmation, but she had needed it after hearing part of what Rico was up to, and the previous week’s thoughts about the Godly other guy she walked away from. “Not perfectly legal,” she had heard him mumble to the girl. Never mind the general secretiveness about the whole deal.

“We have to go now. Call us, even if just to talk,” Rico said.

Joey also gave the comforted, tear-free, but still stiff, teenager a motherly hug. She added some words too. Some things she whispered so low that Rico had to strain to hear. But all he could overhear Joey say at the end just when she let go was, “… pray that prayer soon.”

Why is she forever whispering in people’s ears when I’m around?

“Bye, young lady,” Joey said more loudly.

She pried her hand from the girl’s grip. Rico looked at Joey’s beet red hand and shook his head.

Once out of the girl’s hearing range Joey commented, “Well, hombre … back to square one.”

“Ah, yes, Counselor. But nothing was lost and much was gained today,” he said in Spanish, pretending to be undeterred. His sullen stride said otherwise. 

As they were about to reach the exit, an individual approached, donning an alien mask from some episode neither of them had seen. Without any exchange of words he handed them a small folder that at first appeared to be another technology advertising packet. 

They concluded it had to be something else as the stranger headed toward the corner where the young girl was still standing, arms crossed in a self-embrace. They saw the interesting couple embrace and walk hand-in-hand into the darkness. Bingo!

Rico kept the lightweight package close to his body. They opted to open the package once safely in the hotel room instead of right then. Strange events were not uncommon in either of their lives; the bizarreness of what had just transpired was ranked right up there with the oddest. They were both a little out of sorts. If they had been conned, the kid was really good.

Emptying the contents on the bed, Rico found a note, “Insert this cipher into the USB port of your computer ONLY when you enter the discussion area you did last time and after you have entered your name and started chatting. Otherwise, keep it in your safe. Destroy when no further contact is expected or when instructed. Do not allow it into the hands of  anyone else … including your wife. ”

Rico took one last look in the package and pulled out another sheet of folded paper. It was a picture of Rico, taken by his own internet camera mounted on top of his computer in his office. It showed Rico’s face wearing a slight grimace apparently captured, he concluded, when he was reading the threat the guy had typed on the screen the one time they had interacted. So much for the top-of-the-line firewall he thought he had.

So he wasn’t joking about my firewall being a joke. “I don’t like this,” Rico muttered. “It brings back too many memories.”       

“Then stop … stop whatever you’re planning, Jacob! Let’s just live normal, tranquil lives,” she said.

She remembered who she was talking to the moment the plea left her mouth; she looked at the ceiling in surrender. But she would still persist, to Rico’s dismay, repeating the refrain with some frequency.

Rico reclined on the bed, not bothering to acknowledge that her request was heard. Frown folds lined his forehead. Of his own accord he tried to conjure up the resolve to abandon the still hazy plan like she said. As yet particulars weren’t clear in his mind. What was crystal clear was how utterly a ridiculous, disaster bound course it was. But, he considered, since it was bound to unravel in the earliest stages there would be no harm done … more or less. Sound reasoning eluded him still.  

“Honey, call the airport to move our flight plan to today and confirm refueling was done,” he murmured as if he wasn’t all there. He closed his eyes.

Joey grimaced and offered a silent prayer when Rico popped one more migraine pill, as he called them. “Hope they don’t start in full force,” she said softly. She sat by him, put the back of one hand to his forehead and picked up the phone with the other.

Rico wondered where she had picked up the nurturing and motherly tendencies. He remembered her clawing and clamoring for news stories. Later, she became a prize story while as a British chopper pilot she terrorized enemy forces in Iraq.

Right now, life was throwing him so many twists and turns, Rico struggled to keep things straight. 

“All set for an hour. Looks like a sunset view this trip … you want take-off or landing?” Joey asked unenthusiastically.

Rico didn’t answer. This only served to heighten her suspicions of the increasingly frequent headaches. At first she had thought they were what he received military disability for. It turned out to be a most fortunate cover. He had made sure to show her once during a visit to San Diego the whopping three hundred and ninety-five dollars a month VA check. She had shrugged it off thinking maybe in Iraq he had been exposed to something she hadn’t.

On the way to the airport Joey adamantly insisted on some action to get another check up or brain scan.

Rico, by now wearied of being badgered, told her he had a P.E.T. scan scheduled at the VA hospital in November—his very first outright lie. Of course, he would make a real appointment the very next day, so it was only a fib. And he did plan to give her all the news then, good or bad. At least, that was his honest intention.

Rico ignored Joey’s first disapproving and then solemn look.

Still, it was enough for temporary appeasement. It helped too that she had a nice distraction to sooth her worried and flustered soul; a romantic flight into another brilliant, orange, red, and purple New Mexico sunset.