Chapter 8

I was the junior partner in a Psychiatry/Psychology practice in D.C. The two senior partners are former Air Force Colonel Evan DeBerg and Dr. Janis Karpinski, both psychiatrists with decades of combined experience. I'm the psychologist of the group. Evan and I formed our partnership in '96 after I received my MS and he resigned from active duty. Janis joined us later that year.

Technically I'm one of the senior partners, but we agreed that their names should precede mine; partly in deference to their age and experience, but mostly because I only make occasional appearances at the clinic.

Once in a while a special case will come up that requires my unique abilities and Evan will call me in. When that happens, if I'm not otherwise engaged, I'll drop what I'm doing and consult. I like to think of it as extra-curricular meddling.

I pulled into the parking space with my name on the sign post, shut off the engine, got out and walked into the building's reception area.

The building was newer than most in the area, constructed sometime in the late seventies, but very well maintained; which is why we chose it. Compared to the temperature outside it was positively sweltering in the lobby. I quickly removed my long overcoat, smiled in the direction of the pretty young receptionist behind the desk and headed towards my office.

"Good morning, Dr. Blacktower." she said, her tone vivacious and inviting.

"Hello Angela. How are you this morning?"

She flashed me a demure little smile that I knew was affected and threw her shoulders back just a bit.

"Just fine, thank you."

I gave her a quick once over and had to admit that she did, indeed, look to be 'just fine'. I grinned, shook my head and kept going.

I had just put away my coat and briefcase when there was a knock at the door.

"Come on in." I called out, sitting down and leafing thru my calendar.

The door opened and Evan stuck his head in.

"Got a few minutes?" he asked.

I waved him in, closing the desktop date book. "Sure. What's on your mind?"

Evan came in, closed the door behind him and eased his bulky body into one of the two leather chairs facing my desk. A stocky, powerfully built man in his late fifties, Evan DeBerg had thick wiry hair that was still more black than gray, but the balance was shifting quickly the other way. He'd taken to wearing a close cropped salt and pepper beard and looked more like an 19^th century whaling boat captain than a psychiatrist.

"I'm thinking that maybe you have something on your mind." he said, giving me a raised eyebrow.

I looked carefully at the man who had, almost eight years before, declared me to be sane, and wondered what he was seeing right then as he looked at me.

"You are quite correct. There are one or two very troubling things on my mind."

"If I can help in any way..." he offered.

I leaned my elbows on the desk top and placed the tips of my forefingers against my pursed lips.

Evan knew as much about my abilities and peculiar life style as anyone, but there were a couple of things that I had never even told him. How much had he figured out for himself? How much could I afford to say, without endangering either my family or him?

"Evan, what would cause a woman in a good, solid, loving relationship to start seeking out casual affairs?"

The corners of his eyes twitched so quickly that I almost missed seeing it, while the rest of his facial features remained immobile, his expression relaxed and professional.

"Are you sure about this Ike?" he asked, real concern and dismay in his steady voice.

I nodded ever so slightly, fingers never leaving my lips.

"Very sure."

"I can't believe one of those girls would ever do something like that. They adore you, son."

I kept my poker face locked firmly in place as I held up my right hand and raised three fingers.

His eyebrows climbed up into his hairline. He cocked his head a bit to one side.

I nodded. "Yeah ... all three."

"No. I don't believe it." he whispered.

I shrugged, dropped my hands and leaned back in my chair.

"You're taking this much better than I would have expected." he said after a rather long and awkward pause.

I smiled a tiny little bit. "I completely lost control of my emotions and abilities; blew up some trees outside my house and started a wild fire alongside the John Mosby Highway in the middle of a snow storm the other night. I've burnt two complete sets of clothing right off my body and started all three of my seven year old daughters thinking about things I had hoped they'd wouldn't even hear about till they were at least thirty. You probably shouldn't count my overwhelming desire to dismember and emulsify other members of the human race either. But apart from that I'm handling it quite well."

"I can only imagine how you must be feeling right now." he said.

"Evan, I'm so confused and frustrated right now I don't even know how I'm feeling."

"That's not surprising. Tell me; are you familiar with the popular notion of 'Alpha Male'?"

I nodded. "I've run across it in my reading and studies. In my opinion it's nothing more than a convenient re-labeling of a less politically correct term."

"Probably. But the fact remains that you are, without a doubt, the most striking example of an Alpha Male I've ever come across. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Jan and I have discussed this several times since she joined us. She finds you extremely fascinating."

"No offence to Janis, but she's old enough to be my mother."

Evan smiled affectionately at me.

"Young people have an annoying tendency to assume that once a person reaches middle age their sex organs and libido stop functioning. Let me assure you, they do not."

I raised an eyebrow. "You and Janis?"

He shrugged. "We spend a lot of time together; have similar interests, and neither of us ever married. Too involved with our work when we were younger I suppose."

I frowned. "I've been wrapped up in myself for so long ... it would appear I've been ignoring a great many things."

"Which is why I brought up the subject of Alpha Males. Alphas tend to be forceful, aggressive, driven individuals. Most become so focused on their goals that they lose sight of everything else. They are also notoriously territorial, possessive and jealous."

I sighed a little.

"Alphas are leaders, warriors and heroes ... but they can also be killers, psychopaths, and criminals. They're usually charismatic and charming people, easily attracting others to their cause, often without even trying. There are a lot of Alphas in the world, which might explain why mankind has such a long history of non-stop violence."

"And this has what exactly to do with my current problem?" I asked, slightly peeved.

Evan leaned back in his seat and eyed me. "I saw you come in this morning. I watched your conversation with Angela."

"We exchanged pleasantries. So what?"

He shook his head.

"I think you may be the most oblivious young man on the eastern seaboard. Maybe it's because of how you grew up, or the way people reacted and related to you when you were young, I don't know for certain. Ike, you see things, notice things, that other people don't or can't. Behavioral quirks, changes in body language and vocal patterns ... and then there's the whole emotional thing. You can read people like no one else ... but you get so focused that you become blind to everything else. Angela was coming on to you pretty strongly out there. Didn't you notice?"

I stared at him for several seconds. "Yeah, I noticed. So what?"

"'So what?' he says. I've known you for eight years Ike, and in all that time I've yet to see a woman who didn't make some kind of play for your attention, with the exception of Anya Jones."

"And still I have to ask, 'So what?'"

"You don't see what I'm getting at? Women are attracted you son. Something about you draws them, like moths to a flame. You might not see it but everyone else does. Jan and I see it, every other Alpha Male you've ever encountered sees it, and I'd bet my life that your girls see it too. How do you suppose they feel, knowing that every female with eyes and active hormones wants to get her hands on their man?"

I sat thinking for a bit, shook my head violently and put my elbows on the desk top.

"I don't encourage other women; I don't chase other women; I don't want other women. I love my girls. I'm not saying I don't look ... I admire a pretty face and a beautiful body as much as any man, but that's as far as it goes. That's as far as it's ever gone."

"Your loyalty is not what we're discussing, is it? You asked me why a woman might have a casual affair. I'm just offering you a possible explanation. If you really want to know why ... well, there's only one way to find out for sure."

I lowered my head into my hands. He was right and I knew it. I just didn't like having to admit it, not even to myself.

"There's also a side issue to consider here. You're young, physically imposing, and according to several independent opinion polls conducted by women I am personally acquainted with, considered rather good looking. And while women find you attractive and desirable, your very existence is a constant irritation to other Alpha Males. Son, you are iconic ... damn near archetypal. You aren't what I would think of as an UberAlpha; the boisterous, chest thumping, butt kicking Tarzan kind. You aren't Achilles or Ajax or Gilgamesh. You're more thoughtful and introspective than that type. But you don't consider their kind of behavior or attitude as being beneath or beyond you. To my mind you're more like the Hollywood antihero; soft spoken, calm, self-contained and wound up so tightly inside that when they do finally let go there's blood and bodies everywhere. Ike, you don't, or can't, see who you are or what you're like. Most of us ... hell, I doubt that any of us are capable of seeing ourselves the way we really are. It requires a level of objectivity that I don't think exists in human beings. The truth is that it wouldn't matter if you could. No one cares how you see yourself. What matters is how they perceive you. And for the most part these other Alphas can't help but see you as a threat to their goals, ambitions and desires. Beta Males will admire and resent the hell out of you, but they'll follow. Some Alphas will tolerate and follow you if they decide you're no immediate threat and can take them where they want to go, but the rest will always be looking for some way to humble or destroy you. When you were younger it probably wasn't as big a problem, but as you mature and come into your prime it's going to become more and more obvious, even to you ... and much more of a problem."

"What, you think some other Alpha types have come to steal my women as a way to destroy me? To piss all over my territory? Jeezus Evan, you make it sound like this is some kind of nature documentary."

"You know as well as I that humans are nothing more than animals with a fancy tool kit. We have all the same drives and motivations as any other predator. Hell, we even have a couple of extra ones they don't have, vengeance being one of the biggies. So knowing this, why would you expect that we'd react or behave any differently?"

I lifted my head and met his gaze. "Still discussing possibilities are we?"

"My boy, you are the philosopher and guidance counselor in our little group. Jan and I are druggists." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I think the only way to work out your particular problem is by talking things out with your girls."

"I've been giving serious thought to walking away." I told him. His eyes narrowed.

"That, in my opinion, would be a grievous mistake." he said flatly.

"I don't know if I can get past this, Evan. I don't know if I even want to try. I'm not that sophisticated or cosmopolitan."

"Have the four of you talked at all?"

I shook my head. "What is there to talk about? How can you possibly justify betrayal? I don't know, maybe you're right and it is my fault. Maybe me and my Alpha chromosomes drove them to it. But one thing I do know; if it is my fault, they can't help but be better off with me out of the picture. Leaving would be the smartest thing I could do."

He frowned, narrowing his eyes even further. "I still say it would be a terrible mistake. I don't believe for a second that your children would be better off if you left. You need them. All of them. As much as it's going to hurt, I still think it would be in everyone's best interests for all four of you to sit down and talk this thru. And try and listen to what they tell you with an open mind."

"I suppose you're right, but I feel as alone right now as I did when I was in the desert. And this hurts worse than any bullet."

I took a deep breath and rotated my chair so I could look out the office window.

Evan and Janis were tied up with patients for the remainder of the day, so just before noon I left the clinic and drove out to Ft. Meade.

Passing thru the layers of security at the NSA is always an adventure ... if repetitious boredom and monotony are your idea of adventure. Getting in and out of the Cube is much harder than getting to my office in the CIA, which I suppose says something about the regard those folks have for the work they do.

After passing thru the visitor's area and flashing my badge with the gold background, I threaded my way thru the labyrinth of corridors and made my way down to the second sub-basement where Archives and Megan's office were located.

I found her office easily enough; it was right smack in front of my face as I stepped off the elevator. Megan saw me coming thru the large windows, stood up gracefully and opened the door to her office.

I held out my hand for hers, but she pointedly moved inside my extended arm, ignoring my hand and embraced me then stood on her toes and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

I chuckled a bit self-consciously and patted her on the back. "Well, hello to you too."

A tall well built woman, Megan didn't have to tilt her head very far back in order to meet my gaze. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischievous delight and her dark red lips curled into a coy smile.

"Why Doctor, I do believe I've successfully pierced your legendary stoic demeanor."

I chuckled; reveling in the joy it gave me to let loose for just a few moments.

"Megan, you delightful little tease, no woman as lovely and clever as you could possibly have failed. But one would have to wonder why you'd even bother trying? Can't have been much of a challenge."

Megan turned, taking my arm in hers and escorted my into her office, directing me to a large upholstered straight backed chair as she shut the door behind us.

"My dear Doctor, the challenge has always been in getting you to come visit me; I've known for some time that your stoic demeanor was a façade. I don't chase men, they chase me. You are the only one I've ever met who made me want to do the chasing." she said bluntly.

I sat back in the chair with my eyebrows raised and watched her move gracefully around to her seat behind the desk.

"Don't look so surprised Doctor; I've made it quite plain over the past few years that I would be more than willing to have you in my bed."

I swallowed hard. "Megan, I ... that is ... uhhhmmm ... aw shit!" I swore softly. I wondered if there was such a thing as an Alpha female. If so, Megan Posey was definitely one of them.

Her smile grew brighter and more predatory. "How is it possible for a man, as delicious and impressive as you are, to be so innocent and naïve at the same time? You're not gay, are you?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm not. I suppose I am rather naïve in some ways. But don't mistake naïve for innocent. The fact is that until recently I just never noticed that women found me all that interesting. Don't get me wrong, it would be impossible not to notice how attractive you are, and I've always admired your intellect and professional ability. But I have a family who mean the world to me and I would never do anything to endanger them or how they feel about me. Not now, not ever."

"The word on the grapevine says that there's trouble in Paradise." she said, leaning forward and putting an inordinate amount of pressure on her blouse's buttons. I locked my eyes on hers.

"Megan, I have three wives and four children. Can you imagine that there wouldn't be trouble in Paradise, at least once in a while?"

Her face went slack and her eyes got big. I heard the sound of air being drawn in thru pursed lips.

"So it is true. I'd heard rumors, but I didn't think..."

I smiled slightly. "Megan, what other reason could there possibly be for me not chasing after you with my tongue hanging out and dragging in the dirt?"

A slow smile formed on her pouty lips. "You may not be chasing, but you do know how to play the game."

"I find flirting to be enjoyable and intellectually stimulating. I have no problem with that, but I don't want there to be any misunderstandings between us. My loyalty to my girls is absolute ... I don't cheat." I said with a firm finality.

The woman across from me sat back in her chair and sighed theatrically. "Why couldn't I have met you ten years ago?"

"Ten years ago you wouldn't have given me a second look." I said, with just the hint of a smile.

There was a sharp rapping on the door behind me and a fleeting look of annoyance flashed across Megan's lovely features. I heard the door open and felt the brush of the breeze it created on the side of my face.

"What is it Jerry and why can't it wait?" she snapped, all traces of the flirtatious woman who'd been talking with me moments before vanished in a heartbeat.

"Sorry to interrupt Megan, but I heard that you had a visitor and I just had to drop in and take a look for myself." the man's voice said without a hint of regret.

I turned my head just enough to bring his face into view. He was tall and young with faux rugged good looks that had obviously been created and maintained by artificial arts. With his sculptured three day growth of beard he reminded me a little of the British singer George Michael. I returned my eyes to Megan.

"One of the wolf pack?" I asked.

She curled her upper lip in a sneer. "Yeah. Jerry likes to think of himself as the big dog."

I nodded and swung my legs around to the right and shifted in the chair so I could get a better look at the newcomer.

He looked to be close to my age, maybe a couple of year's older, broad chest and shoulders that tapered down to an athletically trim waist, narrow hips and lean legs. This guy was a gym-baby. His clothes were tastefully expensive and obviously tailored to accentuate his physique.

He looked down at me from his stance by the doorway with mild distaste and disappointment.

"This must be the infamous Doctor Death I've heard so much about." he said cheerfully, stepping inside and holding out his hand to me. "Gerald Tarver."

I put my hand out, he locked his fingers firmly around mine and began to squeeze. I could see the muscles in his arm and shoulder ripple as he exerted pressure, trying to crush my knuckles.

I smiled and linked with him, returning the mild pain in my hand to him and adding a little crush of my own. The fake smile around his lips and eyes melted away.

"Doctor Death? Damn, I haven't heard that one before Jerry. You're a very funny fella." I laughed. I clamped my longer fingers around his hand and stood up slowly. Jerry was a fairly tall man, about six one, so when I got up out of the chair I moved close enough to him so that there was only about six inches separating us and looked down, giving him a cold, full fanged grin, his skin tone got a little greenish. "I like funny fellas, Jerry."

Gerald Tarver's expression went from fake friendliness, to mild annoyance and then straight to snarling aggressiveness.

"So, tell me Jerry ... what do you do around here? Mailroom delivery; senior gopher or someone's boy-toy?"

Jerry didn't like that one little bit ... oh no he didn't. Blood rushed to his face, darkening his otherwise artificially tanned complexion. I felt the levels of his anger and aggression climb to match his heart rate and blood pressure.

"I'm the European cryptography section chief." he informed me with a snarling smirk. He glanced at the gold badge that hung around my neck. His eyes widened slightly.

"And what do you do, Doctor? Courier boy for Justice or State?"

I increased the pressure of my grip and continued to send the pain in my hand back to him. Tiny beads of sweat were forming on his forehead just below his well coiffed hairline.

I shook my head fractionally. "Much as I'd like to share that with you Jerry, I'm afraid you just don't have the clearance or the need to know. Now why don't you be a good boy and run along so Megan and I can get back to the business that brought me here?" I suggested.

"I have a better idea ... why don't you and I go over to the gymnasium and do a bit of sparing? Just to work off a little steam, as it were; nothing too strenuous, I promise."

I frowned a little. "Jerry, I don't fight for fun and when I work off steam things usually get damaged. Neither of us would like it if that happened."

He grinned widely, elation soaring along with his aggressiveness and self confidence.

"What's the matter, snowball, afraid of getting your hair mussed? You may be big, but you're nowhere near as scary as I was led to believe."

I released his hand and laughed. Softly, from deep down in my gut, the laughter rose up until I sounded like a movie madman chortling with evil delight. I eased off on some of my control and began broadcasting malice and aggressiveness.

"Jerry, you don't know why they call me Doctor Death, do you?" I asked, once I got my laughter under control. Before he could answer I turned to Megan who was still seated behind her desk.

"Megan, do me a favor; get on the phone and dial extension 0099. Ask for Marcus."

She looked at me, puzzlement on her flushed face. Megan had apparently been getting quite turned on watching Jerry and I posture.

"Just dial the number. Jerry wants to play; so let's see how many feathers are gonna get ruffled if I accommodate him."

Megan picked up her phone and dialed the extension number. There was a brief pause and then she asked for Marcus. I could faintly hear the voice on the other end speaking and Megan's face got very pale. She held the phone out to me. I shook my head.

"Be a dear and put it on speaker." I asked.

She hit a couple of buttons on the large console and set the handset down.

"Marcus? This is Ike Blacktower. Hope I'm not interrupting anything important." I said, pitching my voice a little louder than usual.

"Ike? No, not at all. How the hell are you?" the voice on the speaker asked.

"Not having the best week of my life, but I can't complain too much. How are Rachael and Luke?"

"They're good. I can't thank you enough for what you did for my son Ike. We thought we'd lost him for good."

"My pleasure Marcus. Believe me; I was more than happy to be able to help. Oh, by the way, the girls were thrilled with the dollhouse you and Rachael sent them for Christmas. They haven't stopped talking about it."

"It was the least we could do. What brings you out this way Ike? You don't usually come slumming down around our neck of the woods."

"I asked Megan Posey to dig up some files for me to take a look at. Nothing earth shattering, just a bit of routine background research. But that brings me back to why I asked Megan to make this call. There's a fella here with us by the name of Gerald Tarver; says he's the cryptography section chief for Europe. I was just wondering ... would it inconvenience your operation much if I killed him?"

There was dead silence on the phone line, as well as in the office. Megan looked at me with wide, hungry eyes. I turned my eyes towards Jerry, who was staring at me with disbelief, as if I'd grown a second head.

"Ike, is there something you aren't telling me?" Marcus' voice came back finally.

"If you're asking me if he's a spy, the answer is no ... at least I have no reason to believe he is. I just wondered if it would impact your operation very much if I killed him."

There was a longer pause, and in the background I could hear the muted sounds of frantic voices in conversation.

"Ike, you still there?"

"Right here Marcus." I said, grinning at Jerry.

"Tarver's boss is here with me now, and he tells me that Tarver's a bit of an asshole ... aggressive overachiever is the term he used ... but other than that he's got a pretty solid record with us. However, if push comes to shove, we can replace him without any serious loss of capability in that section. I take it he aggressively overachieved himself with you?"

I laughed. "Yeah, you could put it that way. Jerry invited me to go to the gym with him for a bit of recreational sparing and when I declined he suggested I might be chicken-shit. In my line of work it just won't do to tolerate that kind of talk."

There was a shorter pause this time. "No I don't suppose it would. Alright, you have my permission. And if for some reason you decide not to kill him, tell Mr. Tarver I'll be looking forward to seeing him in my office first thing tomorrow morning."

"I'll be sure to pass that along. Thanks very much Marcus. Sorry to bother you with this."

"No bother at all. I appreciate you asking first. I know you didn't have to. Give my regards to your lovely ladies."

"I'll do that. Thanks again." There was a loud click from the speaker followed by a louder dial tone. Megan pushed one button on the console and the dial tone shut off.

I continued to watch Jerry's eyes. "Marcus is the Director of the NSA. And in case you weren't paying attention; your boss just cleared the way for me to kill your sorry fuckin' ass. Now, as you might have heard Marcus say, I don't actually need his permission to kill you. I don't need permission from anyone to kill anyone. That's why they call me Doctor Death."

Jerry's aggression level had been dropping like the President's pants, and his anger was quickly being overtaken by apprehension and fear. I took a couple of steps closer to the man and sent waves of terror and panic down the link, with just a hint of looming death.

"How fuckin' scary am I now, big dog?" we growled, our voices dropping down to bass level.

Jerry backed up quickly, whimpering just loud enough for me to hear.

We leaned towards him, exposing all our teeth. "Jerry, I don't give a shit how big you think your dick is, or what caliber your balls may or may not be. I'm the goddamn fuckin' BIG DOG and you'd do well to remember that. Now get out of my sight and stop bothering Megan. If she wants you sniffing after her, she'll let you know. And if you bug either one of us again I will vanish your ass."

His eyes as wide as saucers and his face as pale as milk, Jerry scrambled for the doorknob, wrenched the door open and scurried out like all the demons of hell were right on his tail. I couldn't help but shake my head and laugh a little.

I went to the open door and pushed it shut, and then returned to the chair I'd been sitting in before he'd interrupted us.

"Well that was fun." I laughed.

Megan's face was flushed and damp with perspiration. I linked with her and drained away her feelings of lust and excitement. She'd enjoyed Jerry's and my little run in far too much for my taste. I wondered if perhaps she hadn't arranged our meeting simply for its potential entertainment value.

She pulled out a lacy handkerchief and delicately wiped her face then smiled brightly at me as she put it away.

"No, you most definitely are not as innocent or as naïve as I thought. You have unexpected depths, Doctor Blacktower."

I smiled slightly. "My name is Ike, Megan. Now, about those files I asked for..."

I got home in time to sit down with my children for dinner. The usual boisterous levels of conversation were absent as we all sat around the dining room table eating. My daughters were pointedly not looking at their mothers or me, but I saw all three of them casting what they must have thought were covert glances at each other and their little brother. AJ, on the other hand, when he wasn't shoving food into his mouth was staring fondly at his big sisters, a pleased smile on his smacking lips, and simply ignored the rest of us. Lilly, Peggy and Isabeau were strangely silent, although my sister took every available opportunity to touch Belle, stroking her hair, brushing her shoulder or taking her daughter's hand in her own and giving it a gentle squeeze.