by G.M. Shephard

Three months have passed since Michael rescued his family from the clutches of Dwayne. Hiding as Kaaren, he watches over them, waiting as Megan works to reverse the psychological trauma of their year long confinement. Meanwhile, a massive manhunt for the bank robbery suspects who killed two officers and severely wounded Whithers.

Lockwood readied himself by the aluminum door of the warehouse, stopping a moment to double check his M16A2. The weapon's three round burst setting was engaged and his weapon was locked and loaded. He held up his right hand signaling the rest of the team to hold position as Hernandez took place along the right side of the door, his automatic 12 gauge in one hand, a flash–bang in the other.

Lockwood took a couple of deep breaths to calm his excitement. Running point on these ops was at this point routine. He'd lost count of the buildings him and his team breached over the years, kicking in doors of gang members, drug dealers, murder suspects, bank robbery suspects, hell even heavily armed religious cults. Whatever no good slime that littered the streets of his home town, he volunteered to be first through the door.

The Houston PD SWAT leader claimed it wasn't a death wish that prompted him to take the risk. Most in the department suspected he did. It was the only logical explanation for offering to be the first one rushing into the line of fire shy of perhaps a hero complex. No one, including his family understood why he would continue to put himself in harms way. Sure, he'd been hit several times, most of the time, his class III body armor absorbed the buckshot or subsonic small arms rounds fired from handguns and submachine guns.

His most severe injury occurred during a raid of suspected gang leader Ernesto Compos’ residence. He was wanted for the murder of a four year old girl–collateral damage during a gang related drive by. His shot went wide from the motion of the vehicle and hit the girl playing in an adjacent yard.

Again, Lockwood was on point that morning as usual. The gang leader knew the State of Texas was going to execute him if caught and convicted. He decided his demise was going to be on his terms, not those of the system that had been holding him back since his birth. The team knew that. Taking him alive wasn’t going to happen–Intel and common sense told them so.

As Lockwood entered, sweeping the entryway, blind automatic fire erupted from behind a makeshift barricade. The suspect knew enough about breaching tactics and protected his senses from the flash-bang grenade. Lockwood had entered under the false assumption the distraction would give him the edge. The second 5.56mm round from the gang leader's AR-15 penetrated his armor while the other rounds suffered a high YAW rate from the continuous fire. They hit sideways, drastically reducing the bullets' penetrative abilities. There, the armor did its job, and so did Lockwood. He continued forward, ignoring the hits while laying down a series of tight well placed three round bursts into the wooden barricade.

High velocity 9mm rounds from his MP5 penetrated the table Compos thought would provide adequate cover. The confrontation ended less than thirty seconds after it began, when Ernesto's lifeless body fell into view–blood from the multiple wounds spilling onto the floor. Moments later, the penetration in Lockwood’s lower right abdomen began screaming for his attention. As the adrenaline wore off, an intense pain spread from his right side. He collapsed, clutching his side as his body went into shock.

Memories of the painful recovery and subsequent return to the front line played through his mind as he gripped his weapon. This raid, he thought, might just be the one that finally get's him. If Reid's tip was sound, the three month manhunt was about to end in a bloodbath. These weren’t the typical street thugs he was used to– these were some no good sons of bitches–cop killers of the worst kind. The bank robbery that took the lives of two officers, and left the loved and respected Lt. Whithers reduced to a bedridden body with little to no brain activity, was determined to have been an intentional shootout with the police.

Lockwood gave the signal and the heavy steel battering ram hit the door with enough kinetic energy to defeat the layers of locks and forced the door inward. Hernandez tossed the flash-bang inside without exposing anything more than his arm to the inhabitants of the building. After a long two seconds, a defining sound exploded as the grenade burst with a blinding shroud of bright phosphorus light.

“Go, go, go,” Lockwood shouted as he rushed through the door, weapon up, sweeping the room with his eye locked looking down the barrel. The rest of Alpha team poured in, sweeping his right flank. As he panned back and forth, he found the large warehouse all but empty. The firefight they had prepared for didn’t erupt. There was no greeting party returning fire–hell, there was no greeting party period. The only others in the large storage area were Bravo team entering through the side door.

“Clear,” each of the team members called out.

Lockwood, spoke into his mike, “Alpha Team, area secure, no hostiles.”

“Bravo Team, area secure,” came in the report from the second team. Lockwood was pissed, the information they received anonymously turned out to be a dud. There was nothing in the warehouse except for a van that looked as if it had been crushed in a hydraulic press–and wrapped in a large red bow–with the words Feliz Navidad painted on the side. He instinctively raised his weapon and pointed it at the mass of twisted metal carnage. Other than the tires, there was little for one to use to positively ID the scrap metal as having been a vehicle at some point in it's past.

“Help,” a voice called out. The rest of the team heard the voice and moved in, weapons primed for any surprises.

“Police,” Hernandez called out.

“Shit man, we’re fucked now man,” a muffled voice said.

It took over thirty minutes of cutting before the first of the suspected gunmen in the Mercury Savings shootout emerged. He stunk to the high heaven, having been trapped at least a day or two. Armando Florez was weak–his arms and legs numb from the long confinement–and he was covered in vomit from the stench of his friends having relieved themselves in the small confines of the van. He took to the ground, kneeling down with his hands interlocked behind his head as instructed. His heart was racing, fearing what was about to come. He was a disarmed suspected cop killer surrounded by heavily armed police with a savage grudge. With any luck, his absolute cooperation would reward him with a simple apprehension–but he knew better. The pigs were going to beat him a bit before and after they secured his wrists.

The group of pilots filed into the 152nd Reaper's briefing room. Flying a fighter was only part of the job–the fun part. But with every flight, hours of planning was spent before going up and followed by debriefs of varying length. That was the shit part of the gig, but as each pilot could attest, it was worth it. The freedom they had, commanding the skies made it the best damn job in the world.

"Listen up boys," Colonel Majors said calling his Squadron to order. "Before we begin, I would like to take a moment to recognize the newest member of the Martin–Baker Fan Club. Everyone give a round of applause to our very own Noodles for his heroic nylon letdown that landed him in the drink near Key West. Stand up Major, and be recognized."

“Noodles? More like a wet noodle now,” Waffle called out as the slew of insults fired toward Caparelli began dying down. They let out their rowdiness for another minute before Majors called for his squadron’s attention.

“Okay, you guys can rag on him later. After a review of the encounter, the panel has concluded mechanical failure, absolving Caparelli here of any wrongdoing. Details will follow later, but it appears there was some more strange Triangle anomalies that screwed with his Eagle’s avionics. Turns out our boy's bird decided to stall out while chasing some phantom likely caused by the same interference. Now, everything was beyond his control, but I think it's only fair since an Air Force Pilot ditched in the ocean and needed his ass saved by squids, he should be entitled to a name change. I had something else in mind, but Waffle’s “Wet Noodle" takes the cake.” The briefing room erupted with laughter.

"Great, thanks guys," Caparelli said.

"Ok, let's settle down, I have a couple more announcements before we begin. Like I said, we have been encountering an influx of magnetic interference in the triangle, so let's be alert while on patrol. Immediately report in if you come across any irregularities with your instrumentation and keep a close eye on your wing."

"Sir?"

"What is it Splinter?"

"Sir, what of that bogey?"

"Splinter, you wanna head down to the infirmary and have your hearing checked? Didn't I just get done telling you, we were having major problems with radar and avionics. That bogey was nothing but a bug."

"But sir, we all–"

"–Did you have visual contact at anytime during your short encounter?"

"No sir."

"Very well, then there was nothing there but a figment of our imaginations. That will be all. I don't want to waste any of our time thinking about UFOs. Let me be very clear, talking about that crap, believing it's real, has always been a career ender. So if you boys like strapping those jets to your crotch, then I suggest you worry about finding the source of this interference." Majors paused a moment, shifting his notes around. "And finally, speaking of nylon letdowns, I am very happy to announce this fierce squadron is no longer Co–Ed. The only nylons my pilots wear is on their backs and not on their legs unless of course some of you boys like they way they feel under your flight suit,"

The guys cheered, while Caparelli quietly took a seat. He was happiest of the bunch. The veteran pilot couldn’t stand having a skirt flying with them. They belonged in the kitchen, cranking out kids while the guys got to have their fun. Everywere he went to get away from the constant complaining, their nagging, their supposed superiority, the broads would demand they be allowed equal rights. There was no place safe where a guy could get away where the dames kept insisting on poking their heads.

He hated the way the polluted every male dominion with their feminine touch. They whined at the crude chatter, insisted on their own latrines and special treatment several days each month. He and the other guys wanted nothing more than a place they can call their own other than the commode.

The guys didn’t know the full story, but he did. The Reapers weren’t the only squadron to ditch the bitches. The rumor floating around the upper ranks was the program was cancelled–Jordan finally proved they couldn't hack it in the cockpit. She left his wing twice in the engagement, leaving him vulnerable while she used the opportunity for self glory. He smiled thinking how her selfish attempt to prove herself ruined the chances of the other broads. It was back to the glory days where the only place a woman had on an aircraft, was painted on the side of the fuselage. Caparelli was relieved, because deep down, he knew she was better than him. For that, he hated her–glad to have finally ridded her from his squadron.

“Angel? He the one with the teardrop tattoo? He’s the one that did the shooting?” Brennan asked, upping the pressure on his suspect.

“No, not him, I’m talking about a real angel. She’s the bitch that put us in the van and brought us here.”

“You talking about one of those cherubs with wings?”

“Not like that…”We were in Mexicali, Miguel’s brother had a garage where he fixed cars and stuff. We were sitting around drinking and counting the loot, when she appeared out of no where. I mean literally appeared. One minute, I’m looking at the tool bench, then the wall moved behind Maricio. She just fucking appeared out of thin air and man she was a foxy looking blonde bitch. Face was a little rough looking, but fuck man, I wanted to stick my dick in that piece of ass–until she attacked us." Brennan listened with amusement, letting the perp rant a little longer." She had to be an angel or some kind of fucking super bitch. She was fast, she could fly and our bullets didn't do shit.” He paused sticking his head out so the detective could see the bruise on his head.“ She fucked us all up in a few seconds, broke Carlo’s arm and tossed Maricio across the garage. See what the whore did to me.” Brennan leaned over the table as if to massage the wound, instead he grabbed the turd’s head and slammed it down so the bruise hit the brushed steel table. “You mother fucker I’ll–”

“–You'll what?" Armando fell silent knowing he wasn't going anywhere, nor in a position to do anything to the detective.

"Look, you piece of shit, I want to know who the shooter was. I don’t really give two shits about your erotic fantasies with mythical creatures. How you three assholes came into my possession, I don’t really give a rat's ass about. I have two dead officers, and one who spends most of his time staring at the ceiling drooling out of the side of his mouth. Because of you fuckers, he’s nothing but a vegetable and I have news for you, this is Texas, not Mexico. There is no life sentence for cop killers like you. Oh no, we do it a little differently down here. We here love our executions.” He turned to his partner Alvarez. “What did they say the average wait time is before they juice these scumbags?”

“What? Five years, maybe less. It’s really quick, not like California where you sit on death row for 25 years," Alvarez joined in Brennan's scare tactics.

"That's right, not here, we have an express line for scumbag cop killers like you–especially when there's lots of witnesses. You and your boys,” Brennan said pointing at Armando, “they will feel the prick of the needle in their leg before they have a chance to wear out their first issued tooth brush.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Armando yelled out. Handcuffed to the table, he had no other recourse as the two detectives tormented him. His fear was building knowing just how ruthless Texas Criminal Justice is.

“Pretty tough guy aren’t we. Maybe it was this prick that did the shooting. Takes a lot of balls to light up a car with an AK you piece of shit. Brennan stood up and tossed the chair he was sitting on across the room. Armando tried to move as far as he could away from Brennan as he walked around the table. He grabbed the back of the punk's head, pulling tight on his ponytail. “Yeah, you look like the kind of pussy that would do something so cowardly. I’m going to enjoy watching you squirming on that gurney. This whole department’s going to have party watching. Alvarez, you bringing the popcorn?”

“Ok, ok. I’ll talk, but I want a deal.”

“You talk then we will talk about a deal.” There was a knock on the glass. Brennan looked up at the mirror and let go of Armando. “Stay put asshole,” he said as he stepped outside and into the observation area.

“Captain?”

“Pubic asshole’s on the way. Can you crack this boy quickly?”

“Depends, the DA going to give us something to work with?”

“Give him 25 to life, no death penalty, we want the shooter.

“Coming right up,” he said as he proceeded back to the interview room. Brownly watched the drama unfold.

“Well Armando, looks like we were too late. Seems like your buddy is going to give it all up before you. Come on Alvarez, let’s get going.” Alvarez, knowing the drill, sighed and collected his case file as he stood. Brownly started laughing as Armando panicked.

“Wait, don’t leave me. Wait.”

“Too late dipshit,” he looked at his watch then looked up at him, “five years...starting...now.”

“Wait! Broderick, he’s your shooter.”

“Don’t have a Broderick in custody. Nice try buddy,” Alvarez called back as he walked out the door.

“No, the others never met him. He’s the one you want. His first name started with an S, big white guy.”

“Holy shit,” Brownly said from behind the glass. He watched as Brennan did an about face, rushing back in the room and grabbing Armando by the throat, pushing him back in his chair, his arms stretched as far as they could with the handcuffs still locking him to the table.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“S. Broderick. He never told me his name and I never saw his face, but I saw a bag with his name on it in the back of his truck.

“What kind of truck, what kind of bag? Hurry up asshole, answer.”

“It was a blue Ford pickup. Raised with roll bars. His bag? It was black, kinda like a shooters bag. Patch with blue stitching with his name on it.” Brennan squeezed harder as three sets of three knocks on the glass echoed through the room. It was the signal that the public defender was in the building.”

“You better not be lying to me,” he said as he released his grip and straightened Armando's shirt, making him look presentable for the slime bag attorney.

“I swear, I’m not,” he said as Brennan again left the room.

“Did you catch that Captain?” he said, entering the interview room. Brownly was already heading out almost running into them.

“Quick, my office,” Brownly said, looking down the hall hoping to get out by the time the attorney showed up. As they entered the spacious office, Brownly closed the blinds while Alvarez shut the door closing it’s blinds as well.

“Seth Broderick? He can’t be serious?” Brennan said.

“I sure hope he’s full of shit,” Brownly quickly added. “If not, we got a problem. We got a former cop with a hell of a vendetta against us.”

“Captain, with all due respect, Broderick isn’t one of our own. Prick got the shaft over two years ago.”

“Yeah, still, he was one of us,” Brennan said, scratching his head.

“Shit, the press is going to have a field day with this.” Brownly pressed the clear cube along the bottom of his phone that initiated a ring.

“Yes Sir,” a voice said over the speaker.

“Brewer, bring me the complete file on Officer Seth Broderick. Drop everything you are doing and bring it to me. “Call Chief Gormley, let him know we have a Priority 1 situation.”

“Sir, the Chief is still in New York.”

“Of course he is. He’s everywhere in this damn country except in Houston. Get him on the horn right away, I don’t care if I’m interrupting his dinner with the Mayor. Also, I want Ferguson and Gibbs and Landrum in here right away.”

“Yes Sir. Gibbs is in the field right now–”

“–Call him in ASAP.” He hung up without letting her reply.

“Sir, if Broderick is the shooter, then we have a problem. This guy is one dangerous son of a bitch. Shouldn’t we put out a warning to all patrols?”

“Why?” Alvarez asked.

“Let’s move to the war room, I’ll fill you in there.” Brownly said.

---

Brownly sat at the end of the conference room they reserved for large powwows with the department heads. He studied Broderick’s file, recalling his military background as well as his short history with Houston PD. He was a tough fierce man and took his aggression too far. Bitch sessions with Broderick were often very unpleasant as his attitude applied to all he encountered, even to Brownly. Often, Brownly would make sure to have several others in the room with him during his excessive force scoldings.

“1983, Grenada. Broderick, a U.S. Army Ranger with the 1st Battalion lands as part of the Army’s Rapid Deployment Force. He was an exceptionally good soldier and had a thriving career. That came to a rapid end on that tiny island where he was hit by a frag grenade while protecting his fellow soldiers. Took quite a bit of shrapnel. He became one of the few U.S. casualties during the short conflict and, as a result, ended his military career.

According to our shrink here, that’s when our boy started slipping. His whole life revolved around his career and when he was discharged on a medical, things went downhill from there. Spent a year in recovery pissed that of the 7800 troops that landed on that tiny island, he was the one who took a career ending hit. For a while things improved after he came to the Academy, hoping to keep some action going. He bulked up and despite his injuries, started off with impressive results. About a year into his time with us, he began getting overly aggressive, finally leading to the Tim Keller beating where he brutally beat a local well known transient, a Vietnam veteran suffering from PTSD and other mental issues. Keller survived, but has permanent brain damage from his head injuries.”

“Captain,” Ferguson interrupted.

“Go ahead Bob, what is it?”

“This is all about the Keller Case?”

“Of course, what else would it be about.”

“That case led to his firing. The DA never filed the criminal charges, but we let him go in light of the public pressure. That SOB did not go easily either.”

“No, he did not. That’s what bothers me. Asshole was threatening us as we escorted him out of the building. Still–that was a very public spectacle. We have to be careful, anyone could drop that name knowing Seth might have a vendetta against us. If that’s the case, you make sure that asshole gets hung out to dry for lying to us, but if not, we are going to have a problem.”

“Sir,” Brennan started to say, waiting for Brownly’s attention, “I recommend we put the department on alert while we check out Broderick.” Everyone chimed in agreeing that was the best course of action. “Plus, if this dipshit’s lying to use, Broderick should be easy to find,” Ferguson interrupted.

“Bad idea. We need to consider him hostile until we can clear him. This guy is very dangerous. I’ve seen his gun collection and he's an expert with each one.”

“Bob’s right. Brennan, you’re new here, you didn’t work with him like Ferguson, Whithers and I. He’s a first class asshole and while we don’t rat each other out, none of us thought Whithers was wrong testif–” Gibbs stopped short not finishing his sentence.

“Whithers. Son of a bitch,” Brennan said aloud. The fucker was waiting at the bank for him. What about Celi and Upton? They worked with him didn't they?"

“Yes they did, now that you mention it. Check out that connection, but I’ll be honest, I'm inclined to think Whithers was a fluke. Whithers sent Mendoza out looking for Reid when that shit storm burst. He was out covering for her and just happened to be one of the first responders. There is no way Broderick could have planned that,” Ferguson said with confidence.

“Thank you Bob, that sounds very reasonable. I’m inclined to agree, Whithers was a lucky hit for him. I also agree we treat him as a hostile. Very quietly, get eyes and ears on his known residences. Do not try to apprehend him without my approval understand? This guy is a very well trained tactician and weapons expert. On top of that, he’s highly aggressive.”

“Yes Sir,” they all said in agreement.

“Ok, get to work, I want answers.” The team of senior officers all started to leave. “Bob, stay behind a moment,” Brownly said.

“Captain?”

“Bob, how’s Reid doing?”

“Talked to him yesterday. Still limping around, but he’s getting better.”

“Any chance we can get him in here? I could use some of that magic detective work of his.”

“He was planning on hitting the desk in a few more weeks, but I might be able to convince him to get his ass in here early.”

“Call him. I am going to need him to start reviewing data as it comes in. Also tell Brennan to keep pursuing those turds in custody in case this is a diversion.”

“Yes Sir. Calling Reid right now.”

A cold December winter chill blew through the park. The orange autumn leaves littered the sidewalks and endless grassy lawns of the central park. Houston was a temperate climate and didn’t see weather frigid enough to produce snow, but it still got cold enough, where the spirit of the Christmas season could be enjoyed. Couples could stroll in the cold brisk air all bundled up and savoring the endless sparkle of the Christmas lights. Two years ago, I was on board a spaceship, celebrating the holidays cramped with six other astronauts. Last year, I spent it alone with one of those astronauts, my friend, my confidant. Still, both of those years, I was alone inside.

As with last year, my wife and daughter were still not a main part of my life even though I had returned from space, and rescued them from the evil clutches of a man I thought was part of my NASA family. They were safe and enjoying being amongst the living again, but they were not yet ready for me. To them, I was still a stranger, no longer their husband/father, but a strange woman from another planet who sent the man they love far away. It pained me greatly to sit and watch over them from a distance, unable to tell them that I am with them, that it was only my mere body that had traversed the cosmos, while my soul was still here.

I sipped my coffee while sitting on a hard iron chair in the outdoor patio of the cafe adjacent to the park. Traffic from the local shops came for a stroll along the lit pathways and people stopped to take their annual pictures in front of the tall tree erected in the middle of the main walkway. I watched from afar as Liz and Ash sat on the bench in each other’s arms enjoying the sights, the sounds, and the pleasant smell of the world around them. It was the closest I could be to them, and every day, I sat watching over them, part protecting them, part dreaming of the day I could be on that bench with them participating in their joy.

Every day, they rose early, and spent most of their day outdoors. They would picnic on the grass, or take a patio seat at a restaurant, anything to avoid being inside. Their distain for enclosed spaces, gave me the ability to watch over them easily, while still remaining out of sight.

“Aren’t you cold?” A voice said beside me. I kept my eyes fixated on my girls and replied.

“Hi Reid, how’s the leg?” I could see him limping up out of the corner of my eye and pulling up a chair of his own. He had a tight leg brace on and used a single crutch to get around faster.

“What, are you psychic? How’d you know it was me?”

“I could smell your aftershave.”

“Pretty impressive. As for the leg, it’s getting better, not as stiff, but still hurts to walk. A couple more weeks and I should be able to rid myself of this crutch. Seriously, you ok in just that sweatshirt?”

“I’m fine, I don’t get cold,” was all the explanation I wanted to give at the moment, still enjoying the sight of Liz and Ash alive and free. “You know, last year, on this date, I came and saw you. It was a rough morning, Megan and I had a few good laughs that made my pain go away momentarily, but shortly after that it came back and hit hard. I was starting to think they were dead, here I am a year later and they are alive, as happy as they can be considering what happened to them.

“Where are they?”

“On the benches, to the right of the tree?”

“Which tree?”

“Which tree? Come on detective, I can’t do all the work for you, otherwise you can start giving me a cut of that paycheck of yours.”

“Oh, that tree. I see them. They are looking really good. How is Liz doing?”

“According to Megan, she is making a little progress with her, but it’s slow. Liz is really depressed. She won’t tell me all the details, but being confined and lied to for all that time has really screwed her up. Liz has a lot of guilt and built up anger, but she is talking with Megan.”

“You think you will get to see them soon?”

“I pray every day for that time, but I am being patient. It’s rough, but at least I can see them, and hear them, they just don’t know I am around.”

“You can hear them?”

“Yes, right now they are talking about getting a puppy. Ash always wanted one, maybe it’s a good time for them.”

“Having a dog around would give them a nice sense of security. Not like you aren’t, but...well...oh, you know what I mean.”

“Yes, don’t worry, I’m not sensitive like that. Say what you want. Hey, by the way, the department like that little present I sent you?”

“Wasn’t really the type of van I wanted, but the interior was quite nice. Thank you very much. How did you manage to find them?”

“Same way I found you and Liz.” Reid looked around while I kept my eyes locked on my family.

“Yeah, I’ve been scratching my head on that one for three months now. Care to share?” I thought long and hard about what I was willing to let Reid in on. I had spent the three months thinking it over, bringing it up to Megan. I went from Megan being the sole keeper of my secret, to a total of five, three of whom only know the partial truth. My friend simply said it was my choice to make and that she felt comfortable either way. Kaaren’s ability to read people’s hearts still had me baffled. Sometimes I could sense something, but most of the time nothing. Remote viewing was easy, it just happens after a few seconds of contact, but reading thoughts, the trigger still eluded me.

“Well Jim,” I decided to go for broke and let him in. He listened as I explained, surprised to find he was already familiar with the extra sensory perception in my inventory of alien abilities. He had mentioned before about psychics trying to offer their gifts to law enforcement. They were bothersome and most of the time ignored by the police.

"I always thought it was crap, using some object to conjure up visions of past events."

“Well it’s not crap, I have the ability,” he didn't seem to believe me.

“Seriously? Really, how did you find us?”

“I am serious.”

“Then what the hell did you waste a whole year of my time for? What did you need the police's help for if you could have found them on your own?”
"Simple, I didn't know that I had this ability until that night. I was wearing one of Liz’s dresses–” I paused, deciding I didn’t want to give too many details about that night, “I put on one of her dresses and somehow I was able to see through her eyes.”

“That’s pretty amazing–you in a dress.”

“Stop it,” I said playfully.

“Seriously, we would have been goners if you hadn’t figured that out. You know, that could be a very useful part of your repertoire,” he said then, pausing. My eyes left Liz and found him looking up in the sky with a sad look on his face.

“Thinking about your sister?”

“Good guess, or are you reading my mind.”

“No Jim, just a guess. I can help you, but you need to know how it works. It's not a sure thing and still requires detective work. Megan and I still had to put things together with the pieces of information I had."

"Ok, like what?"

"It’s based on a couple things." I began explaining the rules I discovered that governed my ability. He listened intently, learning that the more recent the clothing was worn, and the more they wore them, the longer the vision. After that, the energy is gone.

"Two, I can only see and hear what the host is seeing and hearing at the time. If they don’t give me clues, it’s useless. In a nutshell, I can’t promise success.”

“I understand. If I can just see that she’s ok and happy, I would feel better.”

“Are you prepared if she’s not. Are you prepared to find out the worst possible case?”

“I think so, but let’s talk later. First of all I need to talk to you about something else.”

“Ok,” I said with a bit of concern at his sudden change in tone.

“We haven’t had a serious conversation in the aftermath, and it’s time we did.”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“Karen,” he stopped a second, “I have to remember what name to say at times.”

“It’s ok, I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

“Well it does matter, and that’s what I need to talk to you about.” He stopped and looked around, finding they were alone, since not too many wanted to sit out on the cold iron chairs. “Karen, I understand you trying to hide and all. Believe me, I would do the same, but you don’t really exist. You are not a citizen of any country. This Karen Santucci isn’t real, she has no past and if any of my men decided check you out, they would find nothing. Now that’s fine if you want to hide out under a rock and move about a little, but I can’t have you coming by the station and getting involved in police matters. I can’t have this unknown person working with my officers. It’s too dangerous, and if you get discovered, I can get in big trouble.”

“So what are you saying, we’re not going to work together?”

“Karen, you got very lucky, lucky that people liked you well enough to keep you anonymous in this case. With Dwayne dead, there will be no trial, and Liz and Ashley seem committed to keeping your existence quiet. Liz was very irked that you pretended to be her
husband’s non–existent sister. If you continue as Karen Santucci, I can’t see them ever embracing you, and I can’t work with you.”

“I see.”

“Karen, it’s too dangerous. If you get called into testify, the people we are trying to get off the streets will get a nice “get out of jail free card”. I can’t risk that. I have work to do, and Ms Santucci and I need to separate.”

“I understand. I heard you are in the big leagues now and I don’t want to hurt your career,” I stood up and grabbed the bag I had with me, “So this is goodbye? I delivered you a nice gift, hell you wanted me to help you find your sister, but you are afraid of working with an alien. Nice, Reid. Why couldn’t you have started the conversation off that way?”

“Hold on a moment, don’t go just yet, and settle down. We can still be friends, in fact I got you a little Christmas slash, thank you for saving my hide a couple times present,” he said sliding a red gift wrapped box across the iron table. It was about eight inches long, five wide, and about four deep. I shook the box listening for anything distinct inside.

“I wonder what it can be. May I?”

“Really? I’ve been waiting impatiently to give this to you, I just couldn’t wait for Christmas. Of course you can open it.” I carefully unwrapped the paper, not tearing it like I was taught as a kid. After this superhuman chick fought with the invincible scotch tape, I pulled the paper aside, revealing a box that said Gucci on it. I opened the fancy box and peeled the tissue paper aside. Inside was a long leather woman’s wallet.

It was made of shiny leather and had a semi rough texture to it. I unsnapped the leather buckle and opened it up and looked inside. It had two rows of slots for credit cards, a little zippered coin purse and a red silk liner where you keep the bills. I explored the rest finding nothing but a mock social security card inside a little plastic window where one would keep their identification. Slightly disappointed to not find any money, I closed the wallet and started to put it back in the box.

“Well?”

“Reid, thank you, I really like it, especially the red liner inside,” I said, trying find something I liked about the lame gift. “Not sure how you guessed my favorite color.”

“I didn’t guess, it only took a smidgen of detective work. Glad you like it, but how do you like the contents?”

“What contents? Am I missing something?”

“No, you were looking right at it.”

“I was? There was nothing in there except that–” I grabbed the wallet from the box while my memory recalled the contents. My hands fumbled with the wallet while I fought to open it up as quickly as possible. Reid had this huge smile light up his face just as I opened to the ID section. I stared at the fake Social Security card and read the name over and over again.

“Karen Anne Guest” it said on the white and blue government issued card. My head shot up and looked at him, catching his first proud chuckles.

“Is this–”

“–Yes” He said not even letting me finish the sentence, “It’s real, and it’s legit–Sorta.”

“What do you mean–Sorta?”

“You’re better off not knowing, and I am better off not telling. I can get in a lot of trouble for this. Let's just say I know some people who did me a favor.” He withdrew large envelope and handed it to me. “Inside is your birth certificate and some details about your deceased birth parents. You are twenty three, born on June 5, 1965 in Boston. You can take that to the DMV and get yourself a drivers license, open bank accounts, and get yourself into school.”

“My god Reid, this is really real? I have an actual identity?”

“Yes, I hope you like the name. I had to pick through a bunch of Karens trying to keep your first name.”

“Like it, I love it. Guest is rather fitting. Thank you, this is the best day ever.” I reached over and hugged him.

“Well it looks like your day is going to get even better Ms. Guest. Looks like you have guests here to see you.” At first I was confused, then I heard a voice behind me.

“Hi Aunt Karen,” I spun around as fast as I could to find Liz and Ashley standing there.

“Ash, hello there. How are you sweetie?” I said, giving her a hug, afterward standing up and turning to my wife. “Hi Liz, it’s great to see you.”

“Hello Karen,” she said in return, offering an awkward hug. I fought every impulse in my body to pull her tight and passionately kissing her on the lips. “We are doing ok, thank you for asking.” She turned to Reid and acknowledged him. “James, how’s the leg coming along?”

“Getting better Liz, getting better.” He stood up and left the crutch behind and limped over to them. She gave him a hug as well, one with a little more warmth than the one I received. Ashley backed up behind her mother, keeping her between herself and Reid. Ashley’s attitude instantly changed and I could tell she was afraid of Reid.

“Hi Ashley, you remember me?” Reid said, seeing her behind Liz. She was getting tall and her head was almost to Liz’s chest. Her arms wrapped tightly around her mother and she refused to come out or acknowledge him.

“Sorry Reid, she knows who you are, but she doesn’t trust men right now regardless of who they are.”

“I understand, she’s been through a lot. Eventually she will come around.”

“I hope so. Well I’m glad you are doing better, you look like you can get around faster.”

“If you consider a turtle fast.”

“When are you getting back to work?”

“I plan on hitting the desk after the New Year, but no field work for another few months.”

“I’m glad to hear that, and the hearing?”

“They still ring off and on. The doctors say it will pass, but I will likely start losing my hearing a little earlier than I had hoped. Enough about me, how are you two doing?”

“Adjusting. Slowly, but we are getting there. It’s just great to be outside and enjoy this time of year.”

“The media leaving you alone?”

“They still bother us, but I don’t budge. Eventually they will realize I don’t care how much they offer, I don’t want my story told.”

“Good for you. Well I’m really glad to see you. You know, if you need anything, don’t hesitate okay?”

“Thank you. James, you mind excusing us for a few, we would like to talk with Karen, and Ashley won’t come out if you are around. Please don’t take it personally.”

“No, absolutely not.” He turned to me and patted my shoulder before walking back to the table. Slowly but surely, Ash came out from the security her mother offered her.

“Karen, would you like to take a walk with us?” She was very serious, and I became frightened that she found out I had been following them.

“Of course, I would love to.”

“Good,” she said as Ash reached up to take my hand. We turned to walk and headed toward the pond.

“Megan tells me you have your own apartment now?”

“Yes, I started renting a place a few miles from your place. It’s small and simple. I don’t really require much.”

“So I hear. She tells me you don’t sleep?”

“A little each week, I don’t really get tired.”

“Must be nice. Every mother’s dream super power. Do you have kids back home?”

“I actually do, a little cutie, just like this one,” I said, shaking Ash’s blond hair. She looked up and smiled.

“I’m sure she misses you very much. Michael is a great dad, and I’m sure he's taking a liking to her,” she said as a tear started flowing down her cheek. She pulled a damp handkerchief from her jacket pocket and wiped her face.

“I know he will. All he talked about was making sure you two were safe. It’s all he wanted, he loves you two very much.”

“And we love him. It’s going to be hard living without him, but at least he is alive, and that makes us very happy,” Liz paused and her tone changed a little as she resumed, “Karen, Megan was going to tell you this, but since we ran into you, we thought maybe we will tell you personally. We have been talking, Ashley and I and...well, we feel,” she stopped, keeping me in suspense. She tapped Ashley, who had been very quiet, her eyes constantly focused on Reid off in the distance. “Ashley honey, go ahead and tell Karen what we talked about.” My heartbeat began slowing down knowing what was coming wasn’t bad since Liz was entrusting Ash with the delivery.

“Aunt Karen,”she said as I turned and lowered myself. Ash was so cute, her hair cleanly styled and permed. She was wearing a purple sweater under a jean jacket and had a red scarf around her neck. Her ears were pierced and had small fake diamond studs.

“I like your earrings,” I said, pointing to them.

“Mom finally let me get my ears pierced.”

“She was supposed to wait until she was ten. I took her last month to finally get them done. A year late, but she more than deserved it.” I approved of the decision. We had argued a little in the past about how old we wanted her to be before she got them done.

“Well they look great.”

“Aunt Karen, mom and I want you to spend Christmas with us.” My heart skipped a beat at the news.

“Is that ok with you?” Liz said.

“Of course, I would love to. Thank you Ash for inviting me.” Aafter giving Ashley a hug and kiss on the cheek, I stood to face Liz.

“Is it really ok with you?” She spent a moment before responding.

“Listen Karen. It’s going to take a while, and I am not going to promise you anything. Right now, we are happy, but later tonight, we might be a complete wreck. You are still a lot to process, but we do owe so much to you. It’s the holidays and...well, we want to give it a try.”

“Thank you Liz, thank you so much. I would very much want to be part of your lives, but I understand.”

“I have a couple conditions. One, Megan will be there. It’s not that we don’t trust you, we frankly don’t trust anyone except maybe her. For now, I want her around until we can get to know you better.”

“I fully understand,” I said, partially disappointed. Her attitude did make me proud, knowing she was dedicated to protecting our daughter. If only she could know that she doesn’t need to protect Ashley from me, “Two?”

“I understand you can hear really well, so instead of leaving Ashley alone for a moment, I am going to whisper to you.” I nodded in agreement and Liz’s voice lowered to a soft whisper. I focused on her voice. “Around my daughter, I want you to be as normal as possible, no showing off what you can do, nor are you to talk about it. I know you saved her from that plane, but do not ever take her flying again, understand me? You are just a normal human, nothing more.”

“Yes.”

“Also, any discussion about her father, goes through me. Again, I understand you needed to gain her trust on the rooftop, but it ends there.”

“Understood.”

“Good,” she said in a normal voice. “Finally, please...I really want to stress this last one. Please, go easy on our house.” I sensed the last one was Liz’s attempt at breaking up the seriousness, and not coming across as a hardass, but I still took everything to heart.”

“I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s ok, but this is our home, not yours. I understand you were mostly living at Megan’s and only stopping by on occasion to maintain it, but from now on, you only come over when invited.”

“Liz, you are a great mom, and all this is nothing I wouldn’t expect of someone if I were in your shoes. I will be thrilled with any time I can have with you two.”

“Ok, I don’t mean to be this way, but–well, I’m not going to explain.” After a quick break to adjust her mood back to a cheerful one, she continued. “Back to Christmas, Megan is going to go to her parents Christmas Eve, so we will have you over for Christmas dinner. I hope you like human food, so bring an empty stomach.”

“Human food, makes it sound like I usually eat dog food,” she laughed at the joke as did Ashley, “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I love the food here, I can’t wait,” I said with excitement, knowing that Liz was a culinary goddess.

“Ok, there are a couple more things, but Megan will explain to you. We need to get going now, so we will see you on Christmas.” She pulled Ashley close. “Say goodbye to Aunt Karen.”

“Bye Aunt Karen,” my daughter said, looking up at me. She had grown so much in the time I was away, but I still towered over her, having increased in height myself. I bent over and gave her another hug before saying goodbye. They walked down the path back to the parking lot, disappearing off in the distance. Reid limped up next to me carrying the bag I left on the table along with my new ID.

“So, how did that go?”

“Excellent! I will be seeing them for Christmas.”

“Good to hear. Let’s talk about New Years.”

“What about it?”

“For once, I won’t be on duty, and I plan on having some people over. Why don’t you come by?

“Who’s going to be there?”

“Trish and a few others from the department plus some other friends.”

“I don’t know if I should.”

“Come on, I want you to have some fun. I have a lot of work for you in the new year.”

“But I thought you said–”

“–I never said I didn’t want to work with Karen Guest. Heck no, she and I are going to do great things in 1988. What do you say?”

“I’m game, but I think you need to step up your game a little.”

“What do you mean?” He asked as I opened the bag and pulled out a gift wrapped box and handed it to him, “Jeez, this is heavy.”

“It’s not a toy like you are used to,” I said as he started opening it. Inside it was a large wooden box.

“Karen, what did you do?” he said as he started to open it.

“Wait, I said as I looked around, making sure no one was looking. Okay,” Reid lifted the lid to reveal my Colt 1911. He sat and stared at it a second.

“Wow, nice piece. How did you buy this?”

“I didn’t, It’s Michael’s.”

“I can’t accept this, it’s not even yours to give. Besides, I can’t transfer it without him being involved. If it's not in my name I can't use it as a duty weapon.”

“Sure you can, it was never registered. It belonged to his father. Let’s just say he won’t be needing it for quite a long time and he would want you to have it. You can give it back when he returns.”

“Still, I don’t know if I feel comfortable using this.”

“Come on Reid, you afraid of a .45,” I said, teasing him into accepting the gift.

“No, not at all.”

“Good, then it’s settled.”

"Third times a charm," I said out loud as I finally got the head wrap right, tightly sealing my wet blonde hair within the confines of the towel. For a moment I paused, staring at my naked body in the mirror, still not completely used to seeing a beautiful woman in place of Michael. In the evenings, when the rest of the state was sound asleep and I was left alone to suffer another long restless night, my mind would settle and wonder, thinking of the time before my change–the time not so long ago when I was still a mere mortal human male. "If only her father hadn't been killed." It would have been a worthy trade, remaining a man and gaining the power of a god.

Instead, I was an attractive female, trapped and unable to adjust in a world dominated by men with lustful thoughts. I had come a long way in a short time–adjusting to Kaaren's body–becoming more comfortable living as a woman. It scared me though. To think there might be a time when Michael fades from my memory, leaving only this person–Karen Anne Guest–behind. In ten or so years, I might not recall what if felt like to be a man. Maybe, I wouldn't want to change back?

"Don't think like that Michael. Come on buddy, you're never going to get used to this and as long as you have Kaaren's memory, you will never forget."

My drifting thoughts and fears of losing myself vanished as I glanced at my watch, noticing it was getting late. Megan was going to be by in an hour and I still had much to do before we went out. I slipped on my red bathrobe, tying it tight around my slender waist as I walked out to the living room of my apartment. It was a simple one bedroom apartment, the property relatively new. It had a spacious kitchen with surrounding counter top that could double as a bar. While cooking was never my thing, it was one of the few features that became the deciding factor.

I slowly walked over to the large open box between the kitchen and living room and peered inside. A warm joyful feeling came over me as I watched him sleep, not yet aware of my presence. The beagle pup laid sound asleep with his head lying on the rolled up towel I placed in there with him.

After meeting Liz in the park, I had Megan ask her if she would allow me to buy the puppy for Ashley. To my surprise, Liz agreed, making sure I bought the dog Ash wanted, a cute little male beagle she set her eye on at the local pet store. He was an adorable pup, tempting me to purchase his brother for myself.

He slowly woke up, eventually getting to his feet, having sensed my presence. His little mouth opened wide, letting out a long yawn while he stuck his rear in the air and spread his front legs out, giving a long early morning stretch.

"Hey buddy," I said, picking him up out of the tall box and holding him with both hands in front of me. "My little girl is going to love you."

He licked my hand as I carried him under my arm into the kitchen where I fetched a bowl and filled it with water. I set the yet unnamed dog down on the tile next to the bowl and let him drink. He lapped up the cool water while I prepared my morning's first beverage. The coffee just started brewing when my temporary house guest starting sniffing around.

“You gotta go out?” Before he could pee, I picked him up again and stopped a moment at my front door, realizing I was only in my bathrobe and quite naked underneath. Despite my speed, the puppy would likely pee before I could change. A quick scan in infrared confirmed no one was outside my door, and a grassy courtyard was only a couple steps away.

“Hurry up, do your thing.” I set him down next to the base of the palm tree outside my window and watched a moment before looking around. The beagle, who had a good mix of black to brown spots on his white coat sniffed around before he lifted his leg and peed.

“Lucky dog. I miss being able to do that,” I mumbled to myself. “Ok, number two, hurry up.” Standing outside in my bathrobe was making me very nervous, worried that some guys would see me and start harassing me. Just as the pup squatted and began doing his second round of business, the steady breeze suddenly increased to a gust. By the time the creaking door registering in my brain, it was too late. My front door slammed shut.

“Shit,” I yelled out. Ignoring the dog, I quickly rushed for the door, praying to God I didn’t just lock myself out wearing only a robe. “Son of a bitch.” My keys were inside and I could hear voices starting to emerge from around the corner. Ok Michael, you can break the doorknob, or jump over the fence, either way, someone is likely to see you.

I was just about to head for the leasing office across the courtyard when Reid’s pickup pulled into the cul-de-sac and parked in one of the handicapped spaces.

“Shit, not now,” I said, frantically trying the doorknob again hoping it would magically open. “Screw it,” I began applying force to the knob while thinking the price of a replacement was worth hiding my scantly clad body from Reid.

“Hey Karen.”

Too late, he saw me. Before any damage was done, I released my grip and focused on adjusting my robe. I held the dog close to my chest, using his body to hide Kaaren’s delicious looking cleavage peeking out of my bathrobe. He was limping across the grass, slowly working his way to my door.”

"Hey Karen, sorry to drop by un–you okay?”

“No, not really. Now’s not a good time.”

“Sorry. What’s the matter?”

“Turn around, don’t look at me?”

“Why?”

“Look at what I’m wearing for heaven’s sake.” His eyes scanned my figure rapidly before regaining eye contact.

“Cute.”

“Excuse me?”

“The dog, when did you get him?”

“Seriously Reid, come back in about twenty minutes.”

“Go on, go change and I can wait here on your porch.”

“No, you need to leave.”

“Oh come on Karen, lighten up. I don’t want to keep walking around.”

“Damn it Jim, I locked myself out.”

He laughed and laughed, then pushed me aside and picked the lock, popping it open in under a minute.

---

"I told you, I'm busy. Megan and I have some Christmas shopping to do. What do you need help with?" I asked as I prepared some coffee for Reid.

"Karen we have a huge problem? I need your help, lives are at stake." I didn't have to have any special paranormal senses to know he was in distress.

"Here watch the dog while I change." I picked the pup up and handed him over to Reid,

“Cute pooch, what’s his name?”

“It’s for Liz and Ash, so no name yet. Got any ideas, might as well give him a temp name until Christmas.” I opened the cabinet and removed a couple of coffee mugs, filling one for Reid.

“That’s nice of you to buy the dog for them,” he said as I handed him the mug.

“Oh, great, thank you," he said, not wasting any time taking a sip, “so, you have dogs on your planet? Can they fly?”

“Hahaha, very funny. No it doesn’t work like that. On my planet, I’m normal like you, but you, you would be like me if you were to go there. That’s why I needed Michael.” I explained as generally as possible the details of Kaaren's mission from her perspective. I was about to start discussing the question about the dog and realized I had a problem. Shy of what Kaaren told me, I had no clue about her home. Her planet’s name, culture, biology, government, animal life, all that important information was locked away on a small crystal I couldn’t access. Questions Liz is surely going to ask, and I had no idea how to answer.

“Jim, I know you didn’t come here to talk about canines on my world. Let me get some clothes on and you can bring me up to speed.”

I closed my bedroom door, leaving Reid out in living room with the dog. He continued to talk while I laid some clothes out on the couch. It made more sense to utilize the space as an office with a sofa the take up the space with a bed I wouldn’t ever use. My one or two days I actually slept, I could crash on the couch or open the sofa. I dropped the robe and stood in the room naked while rummaging through my drawers. As much as I still preferred gender neutral outer clothing, I did find certain women’s underwear to be insanely comfortable. I withdrew a pair of red silky panties and quickly slid them up my legs followed by a matching colored sports bra.

I tugged at the bra, lifting Kaaren’s nicely shaped breasts, adjusting their position until they felt comfortable.

“Chicks are so damn complicated,” I murmured to myself.

“I like your place Karen,” Reid called out through the door.

“Thanks, It’s comfortable. It’s much better than living in a cramped spaceship.” As I finished saying the last word, a sense of dread came over me as I realized I just blundered by giving away a clue that I was Michael. Then I realized that Kaaren also lived on a ship for some time. I gave Kaaren’s breasts one more squeeze before feeling confident the torture device was on right before pulling on a pair of gray pleated pants with thin black stripes. They had a typical 80’s baggy feeling to them and were quite comfortable to wear rather than the tight jeans. Next I selected a bright blue blouse and tossed it over my bra, buttoning it up before tucking it in. Finally I grabbed a pair of socks and a dark, raggy, but stylish women’s sport coat with the sleeves rolled up.

“That’s it?”

“Sorry Reid if you don’t like what I’m wearing. I’m not dressing up for you.”

“Hahaha. No Karen, I mean, that’s it, you're already dressed?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You got ready faster than most guys I know, and you still look amazing. You don’t happen to know anyone from your planet around my age do you?”

“How do you know I’m not your age?”

“Never thought about that?”

“Don’t get any thoughts mister,” I said, erecting my walls. I took my dog from his arms while quickly changing the subject. “So Detective, what’s the big crisis?” I said, sitting on my recliner lifting my foot.

“Ok, those scumbags you brought in for us, one of them talked.”

“He ratted out the others?”

“No, he ratted out our main shooter.” He paused a moment. “Karen, he’s a former cop with the department. This wasn’t a bank robbery turned bad, it was a trap.”

“You’re telling me a former cop lured you all to the bank just to shoot–”

“–Yes, that’s exactly what happened. We took his house last night and found some pretty disturbing notes.” Reid opened a file he had with him. “Take a look.” He passed the first of many photos to me. I scanned the images taken by the forensic team. There were newspaper clippings, letters and photographs, clearly showing a man full of hate.

“What’s this guy’s story?” I asked in a state of disbelief.

“He was a very brutal cop. Had a lot of issues from a conflict back in 1983 on a small island–”

“–Granada?”

“Pretty impressive for someone what wasn’t even in the galaxy at the time.”

“Um, I wasn’t in the solar system, but still within the galaxy,” I said partially correcting him.

“Well excuse me?” How about Cosmo?”

“Cosmo?”

“The dog. Just a thought. Kind of a fitting name for an astronaut’s family dog. Astro just sounded too much like that stupid cartoon.”

“Reid, I love it. Cosmo it is. At least until Ash gives him a new name.”

---

"So are you saying Whithers was a target? The bank job was to force all units to converge?"

"Partially true. We think Broderick got lucky with Whithers. Whithers was high on his target list, but he had no idea Whithers would be responding. It sucks what happened to him, but at the same time, if he wasn't out covering for Trish, it might have been her."

"It wasn't her. She's alive with no scratches on her. Count that as a blessing."

"Yeah, I guess so. She is torn up from the incident. She took one of those bastards out and it’s got her pretty shaken up.”

“I’m sure she would be.”

“Guy had it coming.”

“So, he’s still human. As despicable as they are, we still feel. I have a friend I needed to protect that forced me to take several lives. These men were vial individuals, but it hurt afterwards. Give her time.”

“Can’t say I understand, but thanks.”

"Just how is Whither's doing?"

"Minute brain activity at best,” he said with a sad look on his face, “bullet hit an artery. They tried to get to his car, but the bastards had us pinned down, we couldn't get to him and by the time we did, he had lost a lot of blood. They were able to bring him back after about twenty minutes and stabilized him. Unfortunately by that time, the damage was done. At best he might look at you, but there's no reaction. Once a great man, now reduced to a lifeless body."

"What of the family, they gonna pull the plug?"

"His wife wants to, but his kids and ex-wife are taking her to court. They have some kind of ridiculous false hope that he will pull through. His ex also claims Whithers was going to leave his current wife–that she is really after his pension.”

“Shit, they are going to fight over money while he’s laying helpless in the middle. Such crap.”

“It’s not just that, there is a moral issue both sides are fighting as well. Many want him to stop suffering, while others don’t feel it’s our place to play God and decides who dies.”

“Isn’t keeping him alive playing God?”

“Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m not taking sides, but I agree with you. It is playing God using all those machines to prevent a natural death. Would be nice if we could talk to him, see if he knows anything that can help us.”

"I don't think that's going to be a possibility, so we are going to have to find this creep on our own. So what else do you have?"

Reid handed me several more pictures from Broderick's house. I studied the images, blueprints for a variety of explosives, modified weapons, piles of ammunition. This guy made Rambo look approachable. Reid gave me the rundown on his background and eventual firing that led to his attitude.

"You think you can use that magic of yours to see where he might be holed up?"

"Yeah, I don't see why not? Can you get me into his house?"

"Of course. They are still combing through the place, but I might be able to distract them while you play dress up?"

"Oh you're hysterical. Is that what you think I do, enjoy wearing other people's clothing? You better not go missing again, I don't think I could stomach wearing your clothes."

"Hey, I resent that. I'm a nut when it comes to keeping my clothes clean."

"It's not the smell, it's that horrible pastel fashion you've got going on. Seriously, the Crockett look doesn’t work too well here in Texas."

"At least I have a fashion sense. I've never met a woman who would wear the same outfit three or four times in the same week."

Man, hanging out with Reid was a blast. Made me feel like a man again, playfully picking on each other like I was back with the guys of the old 152nd. A loud knock sounded on the door. I looked at my watch and realized that it was time for Megan to stop by and pick me up. I hurried over to the door and opened it up.

"Reid, get your feet off my furniture," I yelled to give Megan a warning that someone was over before I opened the door.

"Hi Karen, she said catching on," Reid stayed on the couch with Cosmo, greeting Megan without getting up.

“Aww, so cute. When did you get him?”

"I take it she's talking about you and not this beat up excuse for a detective," Reid said to Cosmo, lifting the dog up and over his head. Megan crossed the room and took the puppy from Reid's grasp.

"Hi James, good to see you again. How's that leg doing?"

"Aches. Still hard to walk around too much."

"Well of course. Gunshots don't heal overnight you know? It's been what, three months? You shouldn't be walking around much at all."

"Yeah, yeah. I was getting bored at home."

"So what are you two doing? We're still going out right?" she said, turning to me.

"Jim needs some help on a case."

"You're not back to work already?"

"Relax Doc, just lending my brain. We are still trying to find the SOB who shot Whithers." Megan held Cosmo, scratching under his chin. He was loving all the attention. I slipped on a pair of black Converse tennis shoes and laced them up from a standing position, keeping perfect balance as I brought one leg up to work the laces into a tight bow.

"So what's the plan?" Megan said.

"I don't know. Jim, when do you need me to go over to the house?"

"Right away."

"So we're not going shopping? I'm not going to have the time the next couple of days." Not really wanting to break my plans with Megan, I turned to Reid at the same time Megan did.

"I'm sorry Megan, I don't mean to take Karen away, this is really important. We are trying to catch a really dangerous individual. I only need her for about thirty minutes. Just go over to this guy's house, put on some of his clothes and see if she can see anything that can help us find him," he said while Megan looked at me with a sense of displeasure.

"I see. Well, I can't say I approve Jim. What Karen could do is very powerful and shouldn't be treated as some kind of a casual request.”

"That's a good point," I said, agreeing with her. "Jim, to be honest, I'm not sure I really like using this ability. It is very powerful, one that could get misused rather quickly."

"Come on you two, I'm not trying to cheat at cards here. A former cop is waging war on our department and he needs to be stopped before other officers are killed and further families are torn apart."

"Yeah Reid, but if you didn't have Karen, you would have to do this the old fashioned way. Sure you might save a couple of days, but in the end, classic detective work will suffice.”

“Hey, she didn’t mind using her abilities to me helping her find the Owens, you saying all of a sudden she–

“–Okay okay, wait just a moment you two. Time out.” I said, interjecting. “Megan, thank you for bringing this up, but this is my body, and I will choose how I see fit to use it. Reid, you know I’m dedicated to using my abilities for good, especially when protecting the innocent. I do think the use of my remote viewing should be done with caution. Because of the nature of this case, I will help you, as well as helping you find Sarah. But in the future, I expect you to present the same level of certainty you would give a judge before approaching me. Is that fair?”

“Ok, I think that’s fair. What else?”

“Reid,” Megan started to say while still holding Cosmo, “Karen is very special. Your first and foremost job is to protect her. She might be invulnerable, but those she loves are not. You keep her safe, you also keep us safe.” I grabbed my wallet and keys, getting anxious to leave rather than sitting around having an ethical debate over the what others thought I should and shouldn’t do with my body.

“Ok, thanks Megan, that will be enough for now. I’m an adult, I get to decide just what I want to do with my body. End of story. Now, what's the plan for today? Reid, Megan and I did have plans. How long is this going to take?"

"Like I said, maybe twenty, thirty minutes."

"Karen, you go do what you need to do, I'm going to go ahead of you and do some other shopping. Reid, you think you can drop Karen off at the mall for me when you finish up?"

"You can still fly right?"

"Jesus Jim, really? Maybe I can use the helipad on top of Macy’s." Megan laughed at my sarcasm.

"I'm kidding, of course, I’ll drop you off. Hell, what do you say I take you two ladies out for lunch?"

"You know Jim, thats a great idea. In fact, whaddya think Megan, maybe we can take our Detective here and get him some clothes fitting someone who works with all the big boys now?" Megan reached out and grabbed Reid's white coat.

"Either that or put in for a transfer to Miami Dade.”

“What did you say this guy’s name was again?” I asked as Reid and I ducked under the yellow tape around the house. Several officers were standing guard outside. Voices from inside alerted me to the presence of more cops.

“Seth Broderick,” Reid said as we ran into a pair of forensic technicians I had never met before. One was carrying a sealed cardboard box. We met up with a few other uniformed officers who where looking through the garage. A large gun safe had been cut open, the contents spread across the floor where the officers were tagging and bagging the guns. The garage reeked of gun oil and cleaning solvents. Several work tables had been set up as a fabrication bench– cluttered with weapon parts, pipes, chemicals and a variety of tools.

“Looks like he was making pipe bombs,” I said as Reid leaned down slightly toward a rifle, wincing in pain from the strain on his leg.

“Hey blondie,” one of the officers called out. I turned in time to see a pair of latex gloves hurtling toward my face. A split second before they hit, I reached up and caught them, surprising the cop with my swift reflexes.

“Thanks,” I said, pulling the gloves over my hands to prevent me from contaminating the evidence. Any defense lawyer trying to ease his client out of this mess was going to find it to be a very daunting task given the evidence, still, making sure this guy didn’t walk was worth the precaution, “what do you have there?”

“A really nice Remington 700. Similar to mine, only this has more custom work on it. Either he has something better, or he was stupid. Doesn’t make sense that he would go through the planning he did and not take this along.

“He’s got something else,” the officer with the gloves said. “Who’s the broad, detective?”

“Friend of mine, we are going to look around a bit. And don’t call her a broad or I will kick your ass.”

“With what leg? A penguin can kick better than you.”

“Reid, that’s enough. He’s not bothering me.” He sighed, turning around, leaving the cops alone as we made our way back inside the house.

“Looks like he really had it in for you guys.” We stopped in front of a wall covered with photos of Houston’s finest.

“Yeah, guy’s defiantly a whack job. Come on, let’s see if we can find him.” As we walked towards the bedroom, my eyes scanned the house committing everything I saw to memory for later use. The bedroom as it turned out was the least interesting of all the rooms. It was neatly kept and had very little other than a bed and a couple of dressers, all of which had tags indicating all contents relevant to the case had been removed. As my gloved hands opened the closet, memories of my drunken escapade that led to Liz and Ashley’s salvation rushed to the forefront of my mind.

“What is it?” Reid asked, my sudden change of attitude failing to slip past his keen detective skills while he took a rest on the bed, lifting his leg up.

“Nothing. Leg bothering you?”

“Yeah, a bit. Seriously, what’s the matter?”

“Oh nothing, just thinking about the night I went through my...I mean Liz’s closet.”

“The night you saw her?”

“Yeah.” I fumbled through the Broderick’s clothes. He had a few suits and several of his old police uniforms along with his BDU’s from the Army. Taking up the space deeper in the closet were his casual clothes.

“Looks like something you would wear?” Reid mocked as I withdrew a gray sweater that said “ARMY” on the front.

“Yeah, well I can pick up a scent on it,” I said, pulling off my coat and throwing it to Reid.

“What, like your beagle?”

“You better watch it, or I’m gonna shoot you in the other leg,” I said, keeping up our playful banter. “Now drape that coat over your head and no peeking until I say so.” Reid didn’t require any explanation and did what he was told. With the door closed, I began unbuttoning my blouse while intently watching over him in case he decided to sneak a peek. I tossed my blouse on the bed and threw the sweater on. “Okay.” Reid got off the bed while holding my coat as I turned to the wall, the sensations traveling through my body.

“Do you see anything?”

“Shh, shut up. It’s starting.” My vision of the room vanished, taking me through a short journey through white clouds before my vision cleared. As it did, the sound of a TV newscast flooded the room I was now in. I tried blinking several times, finding my vision to be rather blurry. Broderick’s head began turning sideways, his vision slowly trailing behind. I made a note of everything I could make out as he panned around the room. He focused on a table with a large caliber sniper rifle sitting on top, surrounded by dozens of other weapons, several ammo boxes, a radio and a couple of Chinese food containers and about a dozen empty beer cans. The reporter offered little help, talking about a fluff piece rather than the case itself. The image began fading, returning me to the bedroom where Reid was standing at my side.

“He’s got another hideout, and yes, he has a better rifle. Something rather large, magazine about this large,” I said, holding my hands apart guestimating the size using the trigger as a scale.

“.50 cal. Likely a M82 Barrett. Very long range weapon.”

“Shit. What, do they sell that shit at Big 5?”

“No, but you can buy them. Cost ya about 12k. What else you see?”

“He looked drunk, his eyes were out of focus. He was just sitting watching TV.”

“Drunk at 10am?”

“Well, maybe he’s going through some remorse,” I said, responding to Reid’s analysis.

“Try again.”

“Turn around,” I ordered, returning to the closet and removing one of his BDU jackets. With Reid averting his eyes, I slipped out of the prick’s sweater and yanked the expertly creased uniform off the hangar. Broderick no doubt had been a finely tuned, well disciplined soldier. If Reid’s description was right, and I believed it to be so, I partially understood him. This guy did his duty, his career ended over combat related injuries. Sure, war screws with the strongest of men. In a way I could relate, my mission failed, I almost died and the people I love disappeared, but murder never entered my heart. I stood there in just my bra as the bell inside the phone began ringing. Reid turned toward the phone beside the opposite side of the bed. I lifted the uniform, covering my nearly bare top.

“Jeez Reid, don’t turn around it’s only a phon–” I froze mid-sentence. My sensitive ears began detecting a sound, a faint beeping sound.

“What?” I just held my hand up, switching vision modes until activity registered in radio. Radio waves began emitting from the simple phone. Puzzled that a phone like that would be transmitting a radio signal, I began scanning, discovering multiple radio signals throughout the walls.

“Don’t touch the phone,” I yelled as I ran over to the wall, punching through the drywall. I withdrew the device attached to another device with several wires leading down between the studs. The answering machine in the other room answered, Broderick’s voice reaching my ear. I punched through the wall at the base and cut into the floor, tracing the wires.

“What the hell are you doing–”

“–OH SHIT! BOMB!” I yelled, hoping the others could hear. Dilating time, I quickly grabbed my coat and tossed it over Reid’s head while grabbing ahold of him. “Cover your ears,” I commanded as pulled him through the bedroom window, shattering the glass and wood panes with my back–minimizing injury to Reid. We cleared the house as several small primary explosions erupted in slow motion throughout the house. I held him tight, not caring that his face was buried into my chest while accelerating up the hillside. A defining series of bangs overwhelmed my sensitive ears as the house splintered and exploded, the entire property disintegrating before my eyes. A massive shockwave rippled across the property, its speed gaining on me as I traveled high up the hill behind the neighborhood. With only a fraction of a second to spare I quickly took cover behind a boulder, crashing hard against the uneven rocks. Reid let out a grunt as the shockwave impacted the hillside around us, kicking up a cloud of debris and loosening rocks of all sizes.

“FUCK” Reid let out a muffled scream into my chest as the boulder began rolling backwards. I put my feet up while pushing Reid off of me, roughly tossing him to the side a second before the massive rock slipped.

“Jeez Karen, be careful damn–” He stopped speaking the moment he pulled the coat off his head and saw me pushing the boulder with my legs, keeping it from falling on top of me. Almost without effort, I pushed–surprised the enormous weight of the rock was halted in it’s tracks by my strength. In the background, a large plume of smoke and fire rose high into the sky, sucking in the surrounding cool December air mixed with the hot gasses. The rising toroidal fireball rapidly cooled, its ascent ceased allowing the plume to begin spreading into a mushroom cloud.

“Reid, you ok?” I said, pushing the boulder back to it’s resting place where it stood a moment before toppling over the plateform it had stood for several thousands, perhaps millions of years. A loud crashing sound ripped through the area as the rock tumbled down the hillside, loosening debris along its path. A small rockslide trailed after the boulder which was heading for the neighbor’s swimming pool.

Overprotective of his already damaged hearing, Reid was still covering his ears tightly. “Reid, talk to me buddy, are you injured?” He slowly uncovered his ears and sat up, pulling my coat off his head, almost chuckling from the sight of the massive splash as the behemoth rock displaced the pool’s water.

“I’m ok, I think.”

He looked around, while slowly standing up, his injured leg struggling to keep him up, on the uneven terrain. “Oh my god,” he said, looking at the flaming wreckage below.

“Reid, don’t, anyone down there is gone. I’m sorry.” I grabbed his shoulder while I lifted my coat wipe my face. Below, I saw the extent of the damage. The surrounding houses were all heavily damaged or destroyed from the powerful shockwave. The rock had saved Reid’s life–the blast would have destroyed every internal organ destroyed and shattered his bones. Myself, other than my own set of ears, I felt no different.

“Thanks Karen,” he said as emotion started to well up inside him.

“It’s ok Reid, let it out.” I saw he was fighting to maintain his dignity in front of me, not wanting to get emotional, but so overwhelmed from trauma, his heart was winning. “Jim, trust me, it’s ok. Don’t fight it,” instead of trying to convince him it was ok to show his frailty in the aftermath of a traumatic catastrophe, I pulled him close, laying his head on my shoulder.

To Be Continued....Episode 2 “Be Our Guest Part II”

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