Chapter 2: Protective Measures

Hours later, Kathy saw Ian enter with a disheveled Maggy. Peter’s ringing ears masked their entrance while he worked on a new motherboard. She touched his elbow, and he looked up before turning to regard his friend and colleague. She looked awful, and Ian had to hold her elbow as she shuffled into the room.

Peter’s heart lurched as he studied her slumped-over figure. Her short, spiky hair was matted, and her eyes appeared dark and hollow, lacking luster. Her face looked pale and loose without its healthy olive tone.

Kathy moved beside him and followed as he returned to his bed. She helped him out of the chair and moved it aside while the two newcomers looked on silently. Ian left without a word, leaving his despondent partner standing alone with her head hung low. Peter reclined on the bed with his covers off and nodded in silent communication to Kathy, who gave him a thin smile and warm kiss before leaving. She halted beside the disconsolate woman and pulled her into a warm hug. She whispered soft words into the mulatto girl’s ear but got no response. She kissed her softly on the cheek before slipping out.

Peter swallowed painfully as he gazed sadly at the sad figure. “Come here,” he beckoned with a catch in his voice.

Standing in the middle of the room, refusing to acknowledge or even look at him, she made no move to comply. Her demeanor seemed utterly defeated.

“Maggy!” he continued, more sharply than intended. He saw her stiffen and heard a quiet sniff. “Come over here ... please.”

Despite her emotional turmoil, she shuffled her feet obediently until she stood beside the bed at his torso.

He held his arms open and beckoned for her again. She sniffed and shook her head sharply, staring down at her feet.

“Please, sweetheart,” he murmured through his clenched jaw. “Don’t make me reach up for you.” He took her left hand, noted how cold her fingers were, and pulled her closer until she reluctantly leaned in. She didn’t resist as he grabbed her arms and gently pulled her down until her torso rested atop his. She wore a thin cotton spaghetti strap top and loose hospital scrub pants tied around her waist. He shifted her until her body rested stiffly atop his, and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pressing her face into his neck. He felt her trembling slightly.

“Everything will be okay,” he murmured into her ear, then stayed quiet as her tremors intensified. He turned his head and kissed her ear gently, evoking a sharp intake of breath. She kept her hands close to her neck as she shivered in his arms.

“You’ll be okay,” he whispered. “I got you. I will never forsake you!”

Her body shook violently, and her hands wrung his shirt. She seemed to hiccup and drew a deep breath. He felt the vibration in her chest as she emitted a high-pitched keening sound that broke his heart. He rubbed her back gently and felt her take another deep, shuddering breath. Then she released a long, pitiful wail steeped in misery and despair. He tightened his arms around her as she shuddered and gasped before sucking more air into her lungs. Her tortured cries sounded strangled and choked as her pent-up emotions burst like a dam.

The door opened to reveal a nurse with a concerned look. Peter waved her off, holding the inconsolable woman. His throat tightened, and he wept silently. Her pain erupted, and she sobbed for hours, clinging to him helplessly. Her body shook so intensely that he pulled the comforter over them. Her tears soaked his shirt and the sheets. Eventually, her sobs faded, and she lay weakly on him, gasping and weeping. After an hour, she had calmed to the point that her body relaxed, and she drifted into a troubled sleep.

He held her long into the night as she slept fitfully. Eventually, she slid to his left side, curling into his protective arms with her face pressed into his ribs. He drifted asleep, awakening when he felt her stir beside him and suddenly sit up. He blinked in the darkness and sat up to join her, softly touching the back of her neck.

“I’m ... I’m sorry,” she shuddered beneath his touch. “I have to go.” She climbed out of the bed and stared across the dim room at nothing. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched her.

“No way,” he replied softly. “I just got you back. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a second.” He slipped off the bed to his stubs and approached her, looking up at her face, trying to read her expression masked by shadows. “Come back to bed.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “It’s not right. Ian said—”

“Fuck Ian!” he growled, taking her hand possessively. “He is the last person I want as a role model.”

“Peter, he’s not wrong,” she sniffed. “I let my ... I did everything wrong. If I had waited—”

“I would be dead,” he finished, feeling her stiffen next to him. “Come back to bed.”

“I’m a mess,” she whispered. “I soaked your shirt too.”

He let go of her to strip the damp shirt over his head and toss it aside. “Problem solved.”

“Wha ... what?” she stammered.

“No more excuses,” he ordered, pulling her gently back to the bed.

She stepped forward to follow him and swallowed nervously as she gazed at his chest and the discolorations, scars, and burns that covered him.

“You first,” he prompted gently.

Without a word, she climbed back onto the bed. His warm skin made her tremble as he embraced her again and pulled the blankets over them. She resumed her curled position with her cheek on his shoulder.

He kissed her forehead and told her to sleep.

“But ... what about Kathy?” she whispered anxiously.

“She understands,” he replied softly.

“She never once gave up on finding you,” she sniffed. “I—”

“Shhh,” he whispered. “Get some sleep. You haven’t rested in days.” He kissed her closed eyes. “I’m here, and I will heal. I’m not going anywhere.”

He drifted off, comforted by her proximity. Her hair smelled sweaty, but her skin had a faint almond and spicy scent. She roused him frequently with startling cries in the dark. But his presence quickly calmed her, and she would return to her fitful slumber.

It was still dark when the discomfort of his injuries woke him. He felt every insult to his body and gasped when even the slightest cough sent spasms of agony through his chest. Reluctantly, he called for the nurse and requested pain medication. It was an older black woman, and she quickly took his vital signs as she assessed his pain level.

“Just something to take the edge off, please,” he requested softly, trying not to wake the girl beside him.

Mrs. Darlena defined ‘the edge’ based on his elevated blood pressure and dosed him with a milligram of Dilaudid.

The smell of rich coffee pulled him back to wakefulness. He looked up to find Kathy gazing fondly at him and the sleeping form beside him. He felt Maggy’s warmth against his back and carefully untangled himself from the covers to sit up.

“How’s she doing?” Kathy asked quietly as he joined her at the table where his new computer sat in pieces. Accepting the coffee and a kiss, he savored the first sip before ambulating on his stubs to the bathroom to attend to his morning absolutions. He showered and put on board shorts and a polo shirt before carefully and awkwardly putting on his prosthetic feet for the first time in nearly two weeks. Dr. Richardson had sent a new set to the clinic. He was impressed that they were lightweight and made from a Kevlar and graphite composite. They also had articulations ankles, which was a trip to get used to. The cups were new, and he’d have to break them in over time.

When he returned, Kathy stared quietly at the sleeping figure in his bed. “She’s having bad dreams,” she remarked as he stepped over to adjust her blankets. “I’m so glad you brought her here, babe. It was awful seeing her after...” she shuddered.

“I feel like you all suffered more than I did,” he said, returning to the motherboard. He only had to install the RAM and attach the cooling fans to the two CPUs, and then he could secure it inside the tower. They worked together quietly, assembling the PC one component at a time until an aide fetched him for his morning physical therapy. He preferred to complete his early rehab before breakfast.

When he returned to his room, he found Kathy asleep in his bed, snuggling with the smaller woman who hadn’t moved since he had gotten up hours earlier. He padded over to the table, finished his coffee, and worked on his PC to their quiet snores.

He was finishing the final construction when he heard movement and turned to find Maggy sitting up in the bed, blinking in confusion. Relief was evident on her face when she recognized him. Then she glanced down at the Native girl asleep beside her.

“Good morning,” he smiled, glancing at the wall clock. “Or afternoon, rather.”

She blinked several times and reached up to touch her matted hair. “Ugh. How long have I been asleep?” She tugged at her nightshirt with a grimace.

“About fifteen hours,” he replied.

Kathy stirred, stretched, and sat up. Her face was smooth and relaxed, and she smiled warmly at the woman beside her. “Hey, you.” She said softly, embracing the woman fondly and kissing her.

Maggy stiffened, then relaxed as she looked back at Peter anxiously.

“Hey,” Kathy said calmly to the disheveled woman as she climbed out of the bed. She stepped around and took Maggy’s hands. “Let’s clear the air a bit, okay?” She sat on the bed, holding her hands tightly. “I asked Peter to bring you to his bed. Okay? You need to understand how much we love you. And you must accept that our lives would be so empty without you.”

Maggy sniffed and nodded as she tried to meet her gaze. “I ... um,” she stammered. “We didn’t...”

Kathy grinned and giggled. “Baby girl, I know this. God knows our poor man is so bruised and battered I doubt he even could.” She coyly smiled at Peter, who blushed and sipped his cold coffee. “But you need to know something, Mags. I wouldn’t have minded whatsoever. And I hope that someday you feel comfortable enough knowing that.” She stood up and pulled the distraught girl to her feet. “Go hug that boy and give him a good morning kiss.”

Peter stood and welcomed the slight woman into his arms, holding her tightly. “I love you,” he whispered as she shivered in his arms. “It’s going to be okay. Do you believe me?”

She looked at him, peering into his crisp sapphire gaze, and nodded hesitantly.

“Ahem,” Kathy remarked, moving up to them. “On the lips.”

Maggy flinched at his kiss but didn’t resist. She licked her lips nervously after they parted.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up. I went shopping for you.” Kathy added happily, leading her into the bathroom.

Despite the intermittent ringing in his ears, he caught snippets of their muffled conversation and blushed whenever he was on the topic.

“I ... you and ha keep saying you love me. Like it’s so...”

“Sweet Maggy. We do love you ... so very much. You will see one day.”

“I’ve never...”

“What?”

There was a pause as hushed obscured by the shower.”

“ ... explain to you what love is all about ... Let me wash your hair. God, I love your skin...”

Peter felt a familiar twinge in his groin as he pictured the two naked in the shower together. Then he winced as the dull ache from his bruised testicles quelled it. For a brief instant, it was relieving to know that things still responded down there.

“ ... has their own concept of love, devotion ... intimacy. I will tell you how I explained it to Peter...”

He quietly rolled his chair around the table, moving closer to the bathroom as he assembled the computer.

“To my people, love simply means making yourself vulnerable,” he heard her explain. He smiled, remembering their endless hours of pillow talk. “It means giving your heart and soul to another and forever trusting them never to hurt you.”

The shower stopped, and he heard them shuffle about before a hairdryer turned on and drowned all conversation.

After finishing the new computer, Peter logged onto the Internet, downloaded essential programs, and prepared a Spreadsheet for his work on Jeremiah’s cipher. He emailed Alan to send him their updated coding engine. He began recreating the 104 Sanskrit characters from memory and building a translation database to assign attributes.

Kathy and Maggy spent nearly an hour in the bathroom, and when they reappeared, he was relieved to see some of Maggy’s old spark return. She was dressed sharply in a form-fitting knit shirt that accentuated her bust and tight leggings that hugged her legs, hip, and butt. She wore black suede ankle-high boots with modest heels, and her damp hair was styled in its former spikey fashion. He got up from his desk and embraced her in a warm hug.

“Welcome back,” he smiled.

She glanced down, embarrassed, and joined Kathy on the nearby couch. A housekeeper had come by while they were cleaning up and made Peter’s bed with fresh linen. On her way out, he asked for a light meal tray and coffee service for them.

“I need a favor whenever you’re free,” he said as he returned to the PC and continued typing rapidly. “I need that ledger and my notes.”

“I’ll have it for you today,” Maggy replied promptly. “Ian put it in my office safe.”

“How did Qualcomm’s IPO go?”

She made a plate and began eating voraciously. “Last month, I bought 400,000 shares on the 20th. They opened at $18, but after the auctions, we bought lots for up to $26,” she replied. “We were restricted to no more than 10% of the offering. Since then, I got 100,000 preferred shares and another 50,000 common.”

Peter minimized his window and pulled up a financial page. “They are trading at $47, so we’ve doubled our investment,” he mused. “That’ll be chump change compared to the next decade.” He returned to his previous work screen. “Have you contacted Brad and Sue regarding the KC venture?” He intentionally omitted Kathy’s name on the construction project, and she didn’t notice as she made a plate for herself. Because of his inability to chew, the kitchen prepared him smoothies and thick liquid meals.

Maggy nodded, taking a moment to swallow. “They have an open-ended expense account through Wells Fargo. Last I checked, they used a small part to rent storage pods.”

He nodded absently, “They’ll do great things with that plot. Help them with whatever they need—zoning, permits, civil engineering, architects, whatever.”

She nodded, looking more and more like her old self as they talked.

“What about the Netter Island venture with Monty and Alistair?”

She set down her cup. “They’re taking complete charge of it,” she replied. “I just wired them $90 million and a promissory note.”

“I feel good about that one, too,” he replied confidently while typing and making notes.

“Since you got your soothsayer glasses on,” Kathy mused over the USA Today Ian left behind. “Who’s gonna win the Kentucky Derby this May?” She ran her finger down the list of Triple Crown contenders.

Peter stopped typing and sat back, staring into space. “I don’t remember,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Or at least ‘old Pete’ doesn’t.” He continued staring into space. “It was an upset though ... Read me the spreads.”

Kathy glanced at Maggy, and they gazed at each other with wide eyes. Then she held up the paper and began reading the names of each horse and jockey and their odds. Suddenly, he held up his hand and stopped her.

“It was seventeen to one. That horse will win.”

Maggy scooted next to her and read the list. “Lil E. Tee,” she read. “Are you sure about that?”

He shrugged and nodded, returning to his data entry. “Pretty sure.”

“Like, $10,000 sure, or $1 million sure?” she pushed.

“$10 million, sure,” he muttered absently.

Kathy whistled. “What does that mean? How much do we make if you bet ten million and he wins?”

“$170 million,” Maggy breathed, “Before taxes.”

Their conversation dwindled, and they sat silently, each in their own thoughts. Then Peter looked up and found the slight Euro-African female staring at him with tears.

“What’s the matter?”

She sniffed. “I just can’t stop thinking about how...” her voice caught, and she swallowed, “I can’t even describe how awful it was when we lost track of you,” she said softly, “I now know what it’s like to lose your mind literally.”

“How did you find where they kept me?” he murmured, trying not to remember the depravity and wickedness that they inflicted upon him.

She breathed and shook off her emotions, “Turns out that roaring over people’s homes in a Blackhawk leaves an impression.” She stared into space as she spoke, “Tracking its flight from A to B was simple enough. They landed in a field less than a mile from where they took you. The helicopter was stolen, and when it was clear they were headed to Mexico, an Air Alert went out, and they had to abandon it or risk interception—not very smart on their part.”

“Ian said I was being held in some townhouse near Tucson?”

He could see the distaste in her expression at the mention of the Englishman’s name. “A new housing complex that was being built. They broke into an unfinished unit and hid out while they...” she swallowed. “I had six teams out scouring the area, along with law enforcement and DEA who were partial to their stolen chopper.” She sat forward and pulled her feet beneath her, hugging her knees. “I was listening in on every radio transmission and cell phone intercept I could find. The little things clued me in and narrowed the search.”

He waited patiently for her to put her jumbled thoughts into words.