Episode 4:
Unexpected Complications
Angela Hastings had managed to trip no less than three times, and that had been before her date with Ethan even started. She sat at home staring into her Ben and Jerry's knowing full and well that Ethan's promise to call her would never happen. No man ever called when they said they would. It was probably some unwritten male law of the universe, or something.
Gorgeous hunky men never took an interest in her. The only men who found her charming were either gay or currently pursuing other women.
She glanced down at her cat and made a face. "What's wrong with me Chipmunk? I'm a relatively attractive single professional woman. I don't smell, have bad breath or scratch in improper places. Tell me the truth," she said as she stared into the cat's bright eyes. "Do I have a sign on me that says ‘BEWARE! DANGEROUS COMMITMENT AHEAD?'"
Angela shook her head and sighed heavily. "Maybe I should enter a convent. At least I know God wouldn't reject me." She jammed an Oreo cookie into the quickly melting chocolate ice cream and scooped up some of its velvety goodness. She looked at the sugary confection and sighed again. "Not as good as mind-blowing sex, but it will just have to do."
***
Ethan Fairchild's date with suspect number one was less than enthralling. It wasn't that Angela Hastings wasn't captivating. She certainly was in that quirky, accident-prone, endearing way she had. But she wasn't his rogue agent. He knew that almost from the beginning, and he wondered why Gia even suspected her. No one could be that clueless on purpose.
He knew Angela was waiting for a second invitation, but Ethan had a mission to attend to.
After he dropped her off at her apartment, Ethan made himself comfortable in a bar called the Rathskeller. A bar known for its television personalities. He wasn't quite ready to turn in for the night and thus far he had had a hard time getting in touch with his controller, Jeffrey.
***
A knock at the door came unexpected. Angela had only eaten a quarter of the pint of ice cream and she wasn't yet halfway contented or comforted.
"Go away!" she grumbled. "I'm not quite depressed enough yet."
The knocking didn't stop, it only persisted. "I know you're in there, Angela. Your car is out front."
She recognized the voice immediately, but that didn't mean she had to let him in. Angela had to be the only woman in the known universe who would turn down attention from the world's hottest actor.
"That shows what you know," she shouted back. "That car isn't even mine."
Chance Michaels shifted from foot to foot. He was used to attention from his female following but there was something eerie about Angela's neighbor who leered at him from across the street.
"Come on, Angela! Cut a guy a break. That old lady is eyeing me again."
Angela marched over and thrust open the door. "Don't even bother to say it," she said, waving a spoon filled with ice cream at him.
"Date with the mystery man didn't go quite as planned, I take it?" Chance pushed past her and walked into the multi-level house. The neighbors weren't as surprised to see him as they used to be. But the grand motherly woman across the way still brought out her binoculars every time Chance was visiting.
"So, what brings you to my humble abode? Come to gloat about your fab sex life with Miss Rachel?"
"Rachel and I only have a sex life in my dreams."
Angela tried not to chuckle but she found both their situations amazingly funny. Chance couldn't score with the woman he wanted and Angela didn't have a chance in hell with Ethan.
Chance hooked a questioning eyebrow upward.
"I don't find this even a little bit funny."
Angela handed him the remaining ice cream and plopped down on the sofa. "We're both such losers."
***
Ethan fingered the signet ring on his right hand. He had worn it since his employment at the Legacy. Maybe even before. It was a gift from his father.
Now, suddenly, the skin around where the ring touched was red and irritated. Ever since he'd been exposed to those damn nanites, his life had been hell.
He couldn't sleep more than a few hours a night. His hearing had sharpened as had his eye sight. But that didn't make up for the nightmares. Whatever those little mini machines were doing in his blood, they were damn well wreaking havoc. But the nightmares were the worst part. In the nightmares he watched helplessly as his body didn't respond to his inner commands. Innocent people died, and he betrayed every moral value he possessed. A few more nights of this and he knew he would certainly go insane.
Lee Myers, the man who saved his life only months ago, had made arrangements for him to take his ATP energy treatments in Hollywood while he was on assignment. It surprised him that the movie capital of the world would have such devices. From the way Myers talked, ATP energy was pretty hard to come by. He was looking forward to the day when the treatments ended and the nightmares disappeared as magically as they had started.
The bar he had retired to was dark and smoky and filled with disreputable men and woman. Just the way he liked them. It reminded him of the Wolf's Den in a very Burbank sort of way. Maybe tonight he could find some sexual distraction to keep sleep from claiming him. Tonight, he didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to feel. He just wanted a hot and willing body under him to keep him occupied for a few hours.
Ethan knew what hell was. Hell was a place where you never slept and where the only sounds were the screams of tortured victims. He'd been hearing the screams and seeing the tormented in his mind's eye. And he couldn't wipe the images away.
A woman approached him, exactly the type of prospect he was looking for. She shimmied up to the bar barely wearing a red dress that matched her hair. Her eyes slowly scanned the crowd as if she was looking for someone. An easy smile spread across his face. He could be anyone she wanted him to be. Anyone at all.
Her eyes landed on him taking in his disheveled hair that now was almost too long. It curled up just above his shoulders. His feet were covered in snake skin boots and his legs packed into a pair of slim-fitting 501 Blues. Aside from the 5 o'clock shadow and the hair, he was perfectly presentable. Her long perusal of him seemed to say she was in agreement with his conclusions.
Her auburn hair gleamed, and from a distance, for a split-second, the woman almost looked like Gia, only this lady looked like Gia with a soul. But he wasn't kidding himself. There was no one else like the ice woman.
Ethan was so entranced by the woman's obvious charms, he failed to notice when the real Gia Doyle walked into the very same establishment. She pushed by the auburn haired lady and headed straight for Ethan. Her back was ram rod straight and her eyes spit fire. She was angry. What else was new?
"What happened to the body?" Gia spit at him.
"Nice to see you too, boss lady."
Gia leaned down and blew a puff of smoke into his face from the cigarette that must have been surgically implanted in her hand. He never saw her without one. Her voice lowered but the venom was still evident. "Don't play with me, Fairchild. Where is the body?"
"Body?" Ethan tried not to smile, but he actually didn't know which body she was referring to.
"The guy from the television show that you found on the set a few days back. That body."
Finally, the picture became clearer. Even through his sleep deprived brain he could remember what happened to Carter Wayne.
"You're asking me? As far as I know the clean up team took him away. Since when are you so concerned about someone like Carter Wayne? I've heard you call such nuisances trash."
"This nuisance is a different animal all together. We need him back."
Ethan eyed Gia suspiciously. Back? They needed Carter Wayne back? What in the hell was really going on here?
Her eyes darkened and turned icy. She had a spooky way of almost reading his mind sometimes. Today was no different.
"I'm just checking every detail. We need to make certain Carter Wayne isn't the rogue spy."
Ethan watched her walk away, thrusting people out of her way as she went by. He had a feeling there was more to Carter Wayne than anyone was telling him.
***
Back at Legacy Headquarters.
"We have a problem."
Philip Lancaster was surprised to hear the stodgy old voice address him. It had been a very long time since one of the High Council contacted him directly.
"I did as you instructed, sir." Philip said, trying like hell to maintain a subtle calm he wasn't feeling. "I had Franklin Fairchild jailed and placed in the Legacy dungeon."
"Apparently, Lancaster, that wasn't adequate enough. Another Fairchild has become a security risk." Philip's eyes grew wide. He knew the implications of what Bishop was saying. "Either the signet ring we gave him is defective or the nanites coursing through his blood has disrupted the ring's effectiveness."
"What do you want me to do, sir? I mean, Mr. Bishop."
"I want you to deal with our problem. If he starts remembering his alternate assignments, the Legacy's very identity could be in jeopardy. Either repair the ring or –"
"Kill him?" Philip added with a gulp.
"You catch on quickly, Lancaster."
"But Mr. Bishop, he's our best agent... He's done so much for us..." Philip wasn't looking forward to trying to kill the best of the best. He knew it could pose a big problem.
"You do understand me, don't you, Lancaster? If he becomes a glitch to the very success of our organization, terminate him! That is an order."
"Yes, Mr. Bishop. As you wish, sir."
Philip returned the receiver to its cradle, his hand visibly shaking. God, he couldn't believe it. Kill Ethan Fairchild? Ethan had been their best assassin, even if he didn't remember the true nature of his assignments.
Philip's voice quivered with emotion as he called for Bobbie Sullivan. Bobbie had quickly taken over for Jeffrey Sogard after the young controller's sudden death a few weeks back.
"Get me Dr. Lee Myers on the tele. Then find a way to contact Solitaire. We might have one more freelance assignment for her."
Bobbie nodded. "Yes, sir. Right away, sir."
It was the dawn of a new day at the Legacy. Why did Philip feel like it was the beginning of the end?
***
Franklin Fairchild couldn't believe he had allowed it to go on for so long. That they all had allowed it. The Legacy might have been ultimately responsible for the deeds, but he and Harry and Nathan had let them do it. In the beginning, over thirty-six years ago now, it seemed like such a far-fetched notion. A strange dream. Create the perfect mercenary. The perfect operative.
The perfect assassin was someone who didn't know they were an assassin.
At first, he had done it because it was his job. Later, he had justified staying because they needed members of the resistance inside the Legacy. He knew it might take years to bring them (the High Council) down, and the sacrifices would be worth it. But somehow all those children's lives had gotten lost in the shuffle.
Just one more day, he would think. One more day and then it would all be over. But for the Lost Children, it was never over. One more day for them meant more long hours of treatments, mind-therapy and weapons training. Things they would never remember once they reached home. But things they could recall once programmed to do so.
For years it had terrified him that someone could take over their minds without their permission. He would look across the dinner table at Ethan, Ian, Kevin and Faith's innocent faces and wonder if today was the day one of them would rise up, aim a gun at him and kill him as he ate dessert.
It was a horrible way to live – wondering if your next meal was your last. He regarded the steel bars of his cell and knew sooner or later he would be terminated. The only thing he wondered now was – why had they kept him alive so long?
***
Back in Hollywood
"So tell me about this hunka hunka burning love who dumped you tonight."
Angela blushed and turned her head away from Chance. "What's to tell? I met him on the train. He seemed nice. But he blew me off. He practically left the restaurant before I was even finished eating. I mean, right after I..." Angela stopped. She didn't know if she wanted to tell him the embarrassing parts of the ruined date.
"Let me guess. You went to that new Italian restaurant? The one with the awkward steps that shoot down unexpectedly?"
"How did you..." This time Angela did blush. Chance knew what a klutz she was, but she didn't like reminding him, or herself.
"Fell flat on your face, did you?" Chance tried to hold in his chuckle.
"More like fell flat on my butt and spit my new dress up the seam. I'm surprised Ethan even came over and admitted I was his date."
Chance's expression grew concerned.
"Ethan? That was your date's name?"
Angela looked at Chance quizzically. "Yeah, Ethan Fairchild. He mentioned he knew you when you were kids. He even told me this funny story about his brother, Kevin, and your sister, Sabrina."
Chance stood, knocking over a few of the handmade journals Angela was fond of creating.
"I have to go, but whatever you do, don't let Ethan in here. If he comes by and tries to let himself in, call the police."
He ran to the door opening it with a jerk. He could tell Angela wasn't taking him seriously.
"I'm not kidding, Angela. Ethan is a dangerous man. Don't ever let him near you again."
Angela had never seen Chance so agitated. He was indeed deathly serious.
"Okay, okay. I'll call the police. I will."
Chance then left in a rush. She wondered what Ethan had done to make her friend so concerned. Well, it didn't matter anyway. It wasn't like the date went well. Maybe all those accidental prat falls were a good omen. But the thoughts rushing through her head didn't make her worry any less. She just hoped the man stayed away.
***
Solitaire brushed a stray auburn hair behind her ear and listened on her cell phone as an image was transmitted to her PDA device. The man's photo was familiar. She glanced over her shoulder to the man she had been eyeing earlier with the snake skin boots and the chocolate eyes. It was too bad. It was just too bad. He matched the description of her new assignment. She sighed.
But that didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun with him first.
Ethan was on his third tequila and having a wonderful time when all activity at the bar ceased. The woman in the barely there red dress was provocatively dancing. All the men in her general vicinity had their mouths hanging open. He didn't know what in the hell she was doing, but he had a game of pool only half finished. Pool was the only game Kevin consistently beat him at. While he was here, he planned to brush up on his technique and show the little squirt that big brothers always win.
He was angling to sink his last stripe when someone picked up his cue ball off the table. It was the woman with the dress. She was tall with straight hair down to her shoulders and a body to die for. At first glance, as before, she reminded him of Gia, but upon closer inspection, he discovered this woman definitely knew how to smile.
"Hi ya, handsome," she said in a slow seductive voice. "Wanna play?"
Ethan gulped then smiled. Maybe he was going to get some sexual satisfaction after all.
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