Chapter 11

Morning arrived far too quickly, with the alarm clock screeching and my head seemingly stuffed with cotton.

Lilly rolled over and shut off the alarm while my sister scrambled out from under the covers and dashed into the bathroom. Lilly got up and followed her, leaving Peggy and I alone in bed. Peggy grumbled absently and tightened her arms around my chest.

I gave her a gentle hug in return, at which she hummed slightly, murmured and rubbed her body happily against mine. It was an exceedingly peculiar sensation; the feel of her skin pressing and dragging over my own ... followed instantaneously by her sensing of my skin against hers ... followed by an equally instantaneous recognition of my sensing her sensing my sensing, and then her sensing my sensing of her sensing of my sensing of her sensing ... and on and on and on ad nauseam. All in all it was a most pleasantly distracting type of feedback-loop; but one I needed to figure some way of shutting down, and the sooner the better ... if I had any hopes of getting my ass out of bed sometime before the end of the year.

Peggy started to giggle, softly at first, and before long her entire body was shaking with laughter.

"Do you always start the day doing emotional flip-flops and hand stands?" she asked laughing.

"Damn near."

"It feels really weird ... like big fat hairy worms doing the Hokey-Pokey in my stomach."

"Just be glad I'm in a moderately good mood ... if I were having one of my dialogs I doubt you'd find it nearly as amusing."

"Do you do that a lot? I mean, I haven't heard you talking in different voices for a long time. I thought maybe you'd stopped for good."

I took a deep breath, which caused Peggy's nipples to dig deeper into my chest and her pelvis to press more firmly against my lower stomach. Peggy groaned softly ... the feedback was killing me. I kept looking for the suppression switch inside my mind but wasn't having a hell of a lot of luck locating it.

"We came to an agreement of sorts; they keep our conversations strictly between the three of us and I don't ignore what they're telling me."

"You were having one of those dialogs last night, after you left us and went downstairs, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I was. How'd you know?"

"I had this dream ... well, it seemed like a dream ... that you were standing in front of a pair of full length mirrors, talking to the reflections. Both images looked like you, but they were different; one of them was like a living ice sculpture and the other was... dark. Like a hungry black hole, but instead of sucking light into it, it leaked fire. Both of them were speaking at the same time, and you'd listen for a little while and then start swearing and snarling at them. Isn't that bizarre?"

I looked down the length of my body at the elfin face that peered back at me.

"Actually, that's a pretty damn good description of what it's like when it's happening. I guess it's pretty obvious where Tink gets her powers of perception from, and it sure as hell ain't me."

Peggy giggled at the compliment. "Are they the only two left?" she asked.

"The voices?" She bobbed her head, bouncing her chin off my breast bone. "Yeah ... it's been ages since I've heard from Granddad or my Mother. Carlie stopped talking after the girls were born. Yeah, it's just the three of us now."

"Was that how I was when you first met me?"

"Well, you did vocalize ... kinda. But when your voices were talking the ones I heard all sounded like you. Your attitude, speech patterns and body language changed, but your voice didn't change much at all. When I went inside, that's where the real change was noticeable. With me it's different, I think."

"How?"

"The voices are different ... the attitudes are definitely different ... but that's about it. Everything else is the same. They're me, just as much as I'm them. If I were analyzing myself I'd say that the dark image is my super-ego, the icy one is my Id, which would make me the ego, I guess."

"Wow..." she breathed softly, "you're really fucked up, huh?"

I burst out laughing, wrapping my arms around Peggy so she wouldn't get thrown off or crushed while I rolled around.

"Thanks so much for that ringing vote of confidence." I wheezed.

"At least you don't look like a raccoon anymore."

"Yeah? Well that's good. I've always said there's nothing better for quick healing than spending the night under a pile of naked women."

"How's your nose feel?"

"Not great, but better."

"Ike... ?"

"What sweetie?"

"I'm sorry I slapped you last night." she said contritely.

"I know. I'm sorry ... really sorry ... about pushing your buttons the way I did. Did you at least understand what I was trying to tell you?"

She laid her head down on my chest, ear over my heart. "I got the message. All the messages." She was still and silent for nearly half a minute. "I can't believe how jealous I got. If that woman had been here I really would have hurt her."

"There are limits to the kind of damage you can do with lust, half-pint. If you're looking for a weapon, in my opinion there's nothing better than the female orgasm. But that's mostly because I can amplify. You should probably concentrate on fear and pain."

"I don't know..."

"Peggy, I'm counting on you to protect the family when I'm not around. You can do it ... put away whatever doubts you might have on that score. You can do it. If necessary I'll piss you off and keep you pissed off until you can do it in your sleep."

"Just keep reminding me about that Megan slut." she said jokingly -- except I could tell she wasn't joking at all.

"Peggy, Megan is a very nice woman; smart and extremely good at her job. She also happens to be very good looking and for whatever reason has a thing for me. I, on the other hand, do not have a thing for her."

"Are you sure about that? Not even a little?" Peggy asked in a small voice.

"No more than you have for Johnny Depp."

She chuckled and clung tighter to me.

"Is she really younger than we are?"

"Yup." We lay quietly for a few seconds, and then I decided to rescue my little sweetie. "But the three of you look younger than she does."

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

"Peggy my little love, being as objective as I possibly can, which isn't easy what with me being so biased and all, you don't look a day over twenty five. None of you do."

The flood of relief and gratitude that washed thru my little sweetie made me want to cry. Apparently she was a lot more insecure about her age than I'd ever imagined.

"You're even more beautiful now than when I first met you." I whispered softly, stroking her hair and caressing her back.

"I'm so sorry." she cried into my chest.

"Let it go, Peggy. It's over and done with and it'll never happen again."

"We hurt you so much ... and you still love us!"

"Yeah. Imagine that. And me destined for inexorable mental illness and all."

"What?"

"Nothing honey, nothing at all. Just thinking out loud."

I continued to hold Peggy close and send her soothing feelings until she drifted back to sleep. When Lilly and my sister finally emerged from the bathroom, I rolled Peggy off me and slipped out of bed.

"What was all that about?" Lilly asked me, holding one hand over her belly. "I was getting the oddest feelings ... almost like I was pregnant again."

"I was just explaining to Peggy that she doesn't look like a middle aged bag of bones." I bent down and gave Lilly a brief kiss on the lips and a light squeeze of her left breast. I released her and turned to my sister. "None of you look any older than you did when we first started sleeping together." I gave Isabeau a quick kiss and a firm slap on the butt then headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

Breakfast was a subdued event, compared to most mornings. The kids were chatty enough, mostly with one another, but their mothers were rather quiet as they bustled about the kitchen making coffee, pouring milk and buttering toast.

I sat at the head of the table sipping a mug of tea and watching everyone else from beneath lowered eyelids.

Lilly, Peggy and Isabeau were huddled together near the refrigerator in consultation. Tink and Rosie were starting at them then turned silently to look at each other; some sort of unspoken communication passing between them briefly and then they turned their heads and looked pointedly at me.

I smiled slowly over the top of my mug and wiggled my eyebrows.

Rosie giggled and Tink grinned. It suddenly registered in my brain that AJ and Belle were sitting with their chairs rather close together and that they'd come down holding hands exactly the way he and Tink had been the night before.

I set my mug down and got up. One by one I went around the table, giving a quick kiss and hug to each of my children; first AJ then Belle, Rosie and finally Tink.

"Did you and AJ have a fight?" I asked very quietly, my lips close to Tink's ear.

She shook her head and gave me the kind of look I'd been used to getting from my girls early on in our relationship, usually after doing something stupidly male in nature.

"Today is Belle's turn." she informed me, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh ... I see." I said, shaking my head. I stood upright and waved goodbye to my offspring, who were busily ignoring me.

I walked over to the coffee klatch by the refrigerator and put one hand on my sister's shoulder.

"Time to go." I informed her.

"I'll get my coat and purse." she said, quickly kissing Lilly and Peggy then rushing out of the kitchen.

Peggy jumped up into my arms and gave me a hard hug and kiss. "Be careful, will you? You seem a little wound up."

"I will." I set Peggy down and she headed back to the table. Lilly moved in to my arms and held me close.

"Go easy on her Ike. She's kind of brittle right now ... it won't take much to break her."

"I don't know how careful I can afford to be; now or when I take you with me. Both of you have to learn a hard truth and I only know one way to teach it." I hugged her tight. "But I'll do what I can."

The first ten miles of our drive to McLean were deadly dull and quiet. Neither of us felt much like talking ... I could tell. Traffic had been light at first, but after mile seven it got quite a bit heavier. I watched the road, keeping most of my attention on the other vehicles moving along in the same direction we were. And then I felt a discordant emotional jolt shoot thru my guts.

"Are you really planning to kill someone?" she asked, accusing more than inquiring.

"Excuse me?"

"Today, at work. Peggy told me what you said to her last night."

"Ahhh-ha..." I looked into the side mirror and shifted lanes; getting out of the way of a semi who looked willing and eager to challenge the land speed record. "Yes, I'd say the odds are better than even money I'll end up killing someone today."

"Why?" Her voice was pleading with me; her emotions were choking her.

"Couple of reasons ... the first, and as far as I'm concerned most important one, is that I want to show you exactly what kind of person I am. The person the rest of the world sees, day in and day out. The guy you said you missed. You think you know who and what I am. I've tried for years to tell you, but you, more than anyone else, refuse to understand. The second reason is because I'm fuckin' pissed off at the men in charge of the organization I've busted my ass to protect for the past eight years."

I'd been ignored, marginalized, disrespected, insulted, slighted, snubbed, and disregarded ... and I was fed up; fed up with being lied to on a daily basis, fed up with being treated like an idiot, an outsider ... an enemy.

"I have fewer than ten people in my department, Isabeau. Congress has been chipping away at our budget for years now. At the end of the month they're going to cut it again ... all in the name of reducing the national debt and balancing the budget. And to top it off the Director and his staff have been conspiring with Congress to cripple my capacity to do the job. They don't want me to find and stop spies and moles."

I took a deep breath and continued. "Do you have any idea how many spies I've caught since I started at the CIA?"

My sister was silent, staring at me from the passenger seat.

"Twenty five. Twenty of them were turned and are working as double agents for us now. The other five I killed ... the governments they worked for didn't trust them enough to justify letting them live. So I killed them. Me. Their blood is on my hands, because the responsibility was mine and the decision was mine to enforce. I don't let other people do my dirty work."

"You didn't have to kill them." Isabeau said faintly.

"No, I didn't." I agreed. "I suppose I could have let them go; let them collect their money and escape to some other country. But what about the damage they caused, the lives they destroyed or ruined? Every single one was, at the very least, indirectly responsible for the deaths of some of our people. Each and every one was a traitor."

"I didn't mean let them go. But you could have brought them to trial. Let the law decide what to do with them."

"Do you have any idea how much money I've saved the taxpayers over the years by eliminating those pointless trials and the years of keeping those people in prison? Look, you and I have been down this road before. Do you really think any of them would have been convicted and sent to prison in the first place? Isabeau, the law is so convoluted and twisted that the concept of justice has become as much a fantasy as the idea of Utopia or Atlantis. It's not about right and wrong anymore ... it's about definitions and degrees. No one is responsible, because everyone is a victim. Especially if they've got the money to hire a good lawyer, and every damn one of those spies I killed had money. Hell, money is why most of them turned traitor in the first place." I shook my head, forcibly calmed myself, took a deep breath then let it out slowly.

"Do you know how may good men and women lost their lives helping me stop those twenty five traitors? Shit, one ... my last personal assistant, Reggie Walters, remember Reggie?"

"I remember Reggie. He was a very nice man."

"Yes he was. He had a wife and two little boys. Beautiful twin boys younger than AJ. Reggie took a bullet for me. The fucker we went after that day knew we were coming, and rather than give himself up he decided to shoot it out, like some dumbass gang-banger caught holding up a gas station. You know how he knew we were coming? One of the moronic members of the House sub-committee I have to report to decided it would be a wonderful idea to leak word of our operation to the press; he wanted to get his name in the paper because he was up for re-election that year. I found out later that he did it with the blessing of our current CIA Director. I lost a damn good man so some preening simpleton could get himself a fuckin' photo-op! So today I'm going to use Alex Chorney as an excuse to exact a little revenge."

"But you don't have to kill anyone to do it! If you can make a spy work for you, you can do the same thing to the people at the CIA." she insisted.

I smiled coldly. "Don't think I haven't considered doing just that."

"You want to kill." she said flatly.

"Yes. Today I want to kill. I want to hurt, damage, destroy, demolish ... I want to vent. And I want you to be there when I do it."

"But why?" she whined ever so slightly.

"'You've changed little brother. You probably don't even realize how much you've changed, but we've seen it. You're not the same man we fell in love with... you changed around us. We could still see other people reacting to you in the same way, but when you were with us ... you were different. Softer ... somehow less than what you had been. The air of danger was gone. The polar bear had actually become a teddy bear. We missed that part of you ... the dangerous, edgy, just barely in control part of you. You weren't you anymore... ' " I quoted for her in her own voice. From the corner of my eye I could see her sink lower in her seat, and turning her face to the window. Isabeau's emotions were dull and leaden as she realized what I was telling her.

" ... because of me." she muttered to herself.

"Not completely ... mostly, but not completely. There's plenty of blame to go around, but you, my dear loving sister, you were the catalyst."

I felt her stomach churning violently, the sour taste of bile rising slowly up her throat. I pulled over onto the shoulder of the road, ignoring the blasting horns of drivers who were less than pleased by my sudden dramatic lane change. I unbuckled quickly, got out and rushed around to open the passenger door. Isabeau scrambled out, knelt at the guard railing and puked out the contents of her stomach into the dirty snow on the other side.

I removed the handkerchief from my coat pocket, took a knee next to her and wiped the dangling threads of saliva and vomit from her lips and chin.

I linked and drained off the majority of her guilt, shame and horror. But not all. I put one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"You hurt me like no one else can ... and you've done it over and over and over again. But you know what?"

My sister shook her head weakly, hiding her face in the folds of my overcoat.

"It doesn't change the fact that I love you."

And you're a damn fool to keep doing it!

Yeah, so what else is new?