John collapsed across the back of the couch, allowing his body to sink gratefully down into the soft cushions. Giving a small grunt, he kicked his bare feet up to rest on the top of the sofa’s backrest, popped open his beer and lit a cigarette. He flicked on the TV with the remote and settled in to catch the Pat’s game.

He had exhausted himself hiking Dragon’s Tooth trail, but the effort had been well worth it. He had eaten lunch perched on an outcropping of rock 200 feet above the forest floor. The view had, at least for a while, distracted him from wondering why none of the family had come down for either dinner the night before or breakfast this morning. With the help of a hot shower, he was now hoping the game could take his mind off of his present situation for at least a little while longer.

He tensed at the sound of a light tread on the stairs to the basement, but forced himself to ease back down as he caught a hint of her perfume. Knowing that her presence could bode nothing good, he concentrated on the television and willed her to go away.





Marlena knew that he was aware of her, despite his seemingly relaxed pose. Stretched out over the big couch, frayed jeans and an old football jersey making him look like some indolent teenager, she could still see the play of the muscles in his back as he tried to hide his discomfort at her presence. He should be nervous, she thought to herself.

The Sunday paper made a loud ‘Slap!’ as it hit the coffee table in front of the sofa. Almost leisurely, John shifted around to sit crosslegged on the couch. Looking at her as she stood by the opposite end of the couch, he merely raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. Was there something you wanted to watch?”

“Perhaps the news,” she replied with a frown. “I wanted an update on one of the stories in today’s paper. Right there front page. You can’t miss it,” she said, gesturing to the paper spilling across the small table. “A terrorist attack on a federal building. Someone broke through security and killed an Assistant Director of the ISA while he sat in his office. I believe the article said the assassin escaped in ‘a hail of gunfire, aided by a four man team.’ Would you care to know the name of the Assistant Director who was killed?”

“Marlena, if you want to know if I killed Director Jameson, you should just ask me,” he replied, relieved that she wasn’t angry about the time he had spent with the Sami and Carrie. As to killing Jameson, his conscience was clear on that one.

She folded her hands across her chest, almost deciding that she really didn’t want to know. They all might be better off if she didn’t know. She asked anyway. “Did you kill him? Or have him killed?”

A grimace of pain seemed to flit cross his features and then he smiled a small innocent smile. Looking straight into her eyes, he replied, “Of course I killed him. With my own hand, I cut his throat. You didn’t think I would let him live, did you?”

She had been right all along, she really hadn’t wanted to know. The worst of it was his utter lack of regret, of remorse. She had counseled sociopaths who had shown more empathy.

“You are going to kill all of them, aren’t you?” she asked, her face going pale at the realization of just exactly how far John was willing to go.

He gave a halfnod in recognition of her insight. “They represent a threat to you and the children of course I’m going to kill them. Jameson… I destroyed him for the sheer pleasure of the act. He killed your child, Marlena. Almost killed you. Taking his head, that was pure pleasure.”

He continued to stare up at her, willing her to see him for exactly who and what he was. Willing her to stay away from him, as he was no longer certain he could ever make himself turn away from her.

She had known what he was capable of, had known it all along. Yet it felt like a betrayal to find that he was still the killer described in the files, still the man who had walked through the island compound leaving a trail of corpses in his wake. This was the man who haunted her dreams and who she would carry in her heart until the day she died. “You promised. You promised me you would let them live,” she whispered.





He shook his head, the harshness of his words belying the gentleness of his tone. “No. I never promised you that. I said I would let them live if I could be certain you were safe. I know the system a little too well, Marlena. I have seen it manipulated by the master. I won’t trust the ‘authorities’ to protect you. I won’t trust anyone but myself. And while those men still breathe, you are still in danger. I will not allow that, and so they will die. But I never broke my promise to you. I never would.”

She stared at him, trying to wrap her mind around the inconsistencies. He looked almost vulnerable, sitting crosslegged on the couch. The faded denim of the jeans brought out the blue in his eyes as he looked up at her, denying the possibility that he would lie to her. Yet he was completely at ease with slitting a man’s throat. He was untroubled by the prospect of dozens of more deaths, all of them done in her name. A shiver ran through her and she rubbed her arms together to fight the sudden chill.

Completely off balance, she tried to gather her thoughts, address her second reason for seeking him out. The reek of a cigarette stung her eyes, drawing her notice. Momentarily confused, she asked, “When did you start smoking?”

Seeing the almost motherly concern that washed across her face, he stifled a chuckle at the vagaries of women and leaned over to crush the butt. “When I was about nine, if I remember correctly.”

“Well, I hope you don’t do it around the children,” she said with a frown.

“Of course not!” he replied, looking at her like he doubted her sanity.

“I wish you wouldn’t do it at all,” she said, more pointedly.

He gave a loose shrug. “Okay. I just quit.”

She sighed loudly, recognizing how ludicrous the conversation was becoming. “You will quit smoking because I ask you to, but you won’t let those men live. Would you care to explain this to me? Really. I’m a psychiatrist, you know. The way your mind works… or rather, doesn’t work...”

He grinned. “I’m really not all that complex, Marlena. I would do anything for you. Anything you ask. The only thing I won’t do is put you at risk or allow someone else to put you at risk. Other than that… You know I’ve never been able to deny you.” No longer able to meet her eyes, he glanced away.

She hugged her arms tighter and stiffly sat in the lounge chair at the opposite side of the table. “Why is that, John?”





Shifting uncomfortable, he shrugged again. “You know why, Do… Marlena. Look, there’s no point in us having this conversation...” he said, struggling to his feet.

“I know you were out with Sami most of the day yesterday.”

Confused by her change in subject, he sank back down onto the couch. “So? You said it was okay,” he replied guiltily, still avoiding her eyes.

“Nothing happened? She is okay, isn’t she?” he asked, becoming anxious when Marlena failed to continue.

“She still thinks you will come back, that eventually you will come home. John, we have to make her accept how things are or it’s just going to hurt her more in the long term.”

Struggling not to reveal the hurt that her words caused, John simply nodded. “You don’t want me around the kids. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… she was there. And I didn’t think about it. I just wanted to spend time with her. I’m sorry. I was being selfish.”





Frustrated, she shook her head. “John, that’s not what I meant. If they want to see you, that’s okay. I was wrong to try and stop that. I know they still have a lot of questions maybe it’s better if they can talk it out with you, understand why you left. But I don’t want you to lead them on, John. I don’t want them to think that you are coming back. Because you aren’t.”

She had meant her words to be a statement. That he was leaving. That he would not come back to them. Somehow the words formed a question as they hung in the air.

He studied her face and wondered why he could no longer read her, no longer be sure he knew what she was thinking. He had always known what she was feeling, words had been unnecessary. But now… What he thought he sensed in her could not be. His desire made him see things that weren’t there, hear things that weren’t said. With a frustrated sigh, he reassured her. “You don’t have to worry, Marlena. I won’t be back.”

In black Tshirt and fatigues, John slung his rifle over his shoulder and reached for the door. He always made a check of the inner perimeter once the night shift was in place. Football game or not, he would check tonight. He wanted no one getting careless with his family on the scene.

“John!” Eric called, leaping down the stairs. The boy was wearing boots and a flannel shirt and John wondered if he had been waiting for him to go out on his nightly rounds.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Eric tried to sound casual. “Umm, thought you might want some company?”

Wondering what was up, John gave him a nod. “Just checking the perimeter. You’re always welcome.”

They moved quietly out into the darkened woods and Eric couldn’t help but ask, “How can you tell where you’re going? It’s pitch black out here.”

“Years of practice. This isn’t my first time running a security force, Eric. I’m very good at it, you guys don’t need to worry.” The last thing John wanted was for their walk to alarm the boy.

“Yea,” Eric muttered. “I was talking to Sami and Carrie. They kind of told me about… stuff. I kind of figured you must be pretty good at this sort of thing.”

“Mm hm… What ‘sort of thing’ are you talking about?” John asked, sensing that this was why Eric had followed him into the woods.

“Stuff like killing people.” The boy was trying to sound flippant, but it came across as distinctly uncomfortable.

John let the silence hang, moving slowly through the dense underbrush. “Yea,” he finally said. “I am pretty good at ‘that sort of thing’.”

John’s words faded into the night air. Without reply, Eric simply concentrated on following the faint sounds that marked the passage of the man in front of him.

They covered threequarters of the perimeter in silence and it was beginning to wear on John’s nerves. He had gone over every possible horrid reason Eric had wanted to have this little talk and now he just wanted to get it over with. As they broke out of the treeline into a small meadow, John pulledup. Gesturing for Eric to catch up, he sank down on his heels at the edge of the tall grass. The boy’s face shone pale in the moonlight as John looked over at him.

“Eric, why exactly did you follow me out here. What is it you want to say?” he asked in a low tone, not wanting to announce their presence to the world.





Eric looked away, refusing to meet John’s eyes. Instead, he stared out over the field, the clearing shimmering under the white of the moon. “Sami says you’re going to come back home. Is that true?”

John’s lips pressed into a tight grimace. Marlena was right Sami still hadn’t accepted the reality of the situation.

When John didn’t answer, Eric continued haltingly. “It would be okay with me if you came home. I mean, if you were wondering… I would be all right with that.”

John couldn’t form a reply, the offer so unexpected, so at odds with the recrimination he had envisioned. “I wish I could.” The whisper of words escaped his lips without conscious thought. Seeing the grin spread across Eric’s face alerted John to his mistake.

“Eric, I wish I could, but I can’t. It just… it isn’t possible to go back to that. My being with you, it might endup getting somebody hurt,” he continued, more harshly than he intended. John’s chest tightened as he saw the beginnings of the smile replaced by a bitter grimace.

“Yea. Sure...whatever,” Eric replied woodenly.

“Eric, it isn’t because I don’t love you, or want to be with you. You do understand that, don’t you?” John asked, reaching out to clasp the young man’s shoulder.

Eric ducked his head, hiding his face in the arms he had crossed over his knees. Slowly, hesitantly, he looked up at John. “It’s just… I really miss you. I mean, playing ball. Watching the game on Sundays....” Eric sighed out a weak chuckle. “You letting me have a sip of your beer when mom’s not around. I really miss you. I want you to come home,” he finished, shrugging his shoulders in a gesture of helplessness.

This time, it was John’s turn to drop his gaze, unable to meet his son’s eyes. He wanted to say yes. Instead, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Eric. I can’t do that.”

Eric rubbed briefly at his eyes with his sleeve. Looking back over the meadow, he stood abruptly. “Well then, I guess we might at well go back to the house,” he stated, his voice cold. Without looking at John, he trudged forward to the cabin. 

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