Chapter 1

It was almost enough to make him forget his anger and disappointment. It was the eyes that did it. In them, he saw intelligence, warmth, and ... sympathy? Apparently, word spread rapidly. Of course, he had not been at all discreet about his upset at the assignment, so no wonder she knew.

Well, it wasn't her fault, and maybe she did not like it any better than he did, so he tried to call up his manners. "Good morning. I'm Gordy Alford."

"Marielle Gilson," she replied with a smile and her hand extended, "and yes, your objections were pretty much heard all over the building. If it's any consolation, I screamed almost as loudly when I was put on one of these assignments the first time."

"Yeah, but this is more lawyers' work and not for engineers. I want to do constructive things. I built this thing. Why can't someone else play the political games? It's a waste of my time," Gordy objected.

The breakthrough device, which he stubbornly insisted on referring to as his 'cardiac roto-rooter', had indeed been his baby from the beginning. Of the many competing technologies for clearing clogged arteries without surgery, all in the company agreed that the 'Tru-Pulse' was the best available combination of safety, effectiveness, and ease of use. Cardiologists who had been involved in field tests agreed.

The problem was that until the FDA agreed with those attributes, all of the development expense would be sunk cost. His company, Medi-Vanced, had from its founding followed a policy of having developers shepherd their products all the way through approval. If there was one thing that had almost caused Gordy to look for another company, it had been that policy.

Fortunately, he could be working on his next miracle while the approval process groaned on. He could also spend time with the product manager monitoring live field tests of the Tru-Pulse with cardiologists. Even so, he would never be happy about the 'dead time' this would cost him. Working with the very attractive lawyer should at least make the time more pleasant than it might be.

"I suppose you have done this numerous times," he observed. "It's my first 'sentence', so you'll probably need to keep me out of trouble."

Her laugh was as captivating as her eyes. "You are correct. All of us on the legal staff spend a lot of time on approvals." She pointedly looked him up and down with a half-smile, half-smirk on her face and commented "Well, I least I don't have a presentability problem with you. I'm working with Jerry Grunewald on his device, too."

"Ohhhh. My sympathies," he joked, and they shared a laugh.

"I'm not sure how you view our 'team', here," he went on. "Since I know nothing about the approval maze, nor do I really care to learn, I will consider myself to be a resource that you can use as you need me. If you can tell me where to show up, what preparation to have done, and how to behave, I will comply to the best of my ability. Hopefully, that will get us through to making money in the shortest time."

Marielle tried to keep her astonishment from showing. The proprietary attitude of the engineers almost always led to many struggles over who was actually in charge of the approval team. If Gordy would really do as he claimed, this could be one of the most pleasant assignments yet.

She had already noted the lack of any condescension on his part. That was also unusual. The assumption that the lawyers knew little about the technology was widespread among the developers. She would not advertise the fact that she had her B.S. in mechanical engineering.

Her choice of undergrad study had triggered a monumental battle with her parents. Her father, Peter Gilson, was a billionaire, some by inheritance, but even more by his own drive and skill. He did not take kindly to that kind of show of independence from his daughter, the only child from him and his equally controlling wife, Frances.

Peter's assumption had always been that Marielle, even though she was not the son he had hoped for and expected, would be groomed to take over his real estate development business, along with ownership in dozens of other generally successful enterprises. What he considered his daughter's naively idealistic wish to do something 'more significant' had not set well with him.

Peter's problem was that he was no more immune to Marielle's personality than was any other male. To his credit, once inevitability was conceded, he supported her. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of Frances. She did not come from money, as did Peter. Even with everything she now had, the 'grasping' instinct had not been satisfied, but had been translated to her only child. She regretted that Marielle was aspiring to be 'less than she could be'.

When Marielle decided to go into law rather than seeking advanced engineering degrees, it was a great relief to both parents. They believed that she would eventually abandon her idealism and get into the more lucrative areas of the legal profession, or perhaps even politics. That would be much more fitting, given her social status.

Fairly early in life, Marielle had decided that she did not like being separated from other young people because of her family's wealth. By no means did she reject the wealth or the things it could provide for her. She just did not like the idea that she was limited in who she could associate with.

At Medi-Vanced, very few people knew about her family's wealth. What she wore and what she drove were perhaps beyond what might be expected of a staff attorney of her age, but not way beyond. Her speech and manners showed impeccable breeding, but were in no way affected. In short, Marielle had become adept at 'passing' as just a classy, successful, well-off young staff attorney.

At his first meeting with Marielle, Gordy was, of course, unaware of her privileged upbringing. That she was very attractive, classy-looking, polite, and composed was immediately apparent. That she was very intelligent, caring, and perhaps fun-loving took only a direct look in her eyes to detect.

Responding to his offer to let her run the show, Marielle finally answered "I appreciate your consideration, Gordy. Actually, we are in a time bind already. Please don't be offended, but do you have a nice business suit?"

"Oh. A suit? Not just a blazer?"

"I'm afraid not," Marielle said. "It's company policy. Even though a lot of the people on the government side will be dressed more casually, we are supposed to maintain a standard."

"I do have two suits, both conservative - non-formal wedding grade, if you know what I mean," he admitted. "One of them has been worn only once."

"It sounds like you are well prepared, then," she said with obvious relief. "If you need to, take off now and get to a one-hour cleaner. We are scheduled to leave on the corporate jet for D.C. at seven tomorrow morning."

"Will there be time on the flight to brief me?" he said, trying not to let either the irritation or the slight panic show.

"Since this is the first meeting after submission of the request for approval, everything should be very preliminary," she assured him.

"Will it be just the two of us? I would think there would be someone, uh, more senior involved."

"Very astute," she said with a nod. "The V.P. or Cardiac Products will be present for all interactions until we get down to technical squabbling."

"I'll bet she doesn't like this much more than I do," Gordy quipped.

"I think she realizes that it is the key part of her job. With wizards like you in development, getting products ready is the easy part."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, given some of the shouting matches I have heard. Thank you for the compliment, though."

She just nodded in acknowledgment. Once again, she had to suppress her surprise and pleasure. Despite his protestations, Gordy promised to be the best engineer to work through the red tape with that she had ever been assigned.

As much as anything else about Gordy, the fact that he did not seem at all flustered by her was a pleasant change. She knew the affect she had on men. The generally unsophisticated engineers were usually the worst. Not Gordy, though. There was a moment of irritation that he seemed resistant to her charms, but she swatted that down quickly. This was business and Gordy was behaving just as he should.

After two months, it seemed to Gordy that no progress at all had been made. The people that they worked with at the FDA seemed to have no appreciation that Tru-Pulse could save lives and needed to get into hospitals as quickly as possible. He was sure that they were being purposely obtuse about the technology used. Either that, or their IQs were far too low to merit such key government positions.

The V.P. of Cardiac Products, Dr. Gretchen Kohen, M.D., had graciously spent a number of hours explaining reality to him. "Face it, Gordy; you will not be dealing with best and the brightest, here. Our job is to get approval and support from people who don't really understand what we are doing and who don't feel any particular incentive to approve our products. On the contrary, they feel it their duty, or privilege, as the case may be, to 'protect' the public from what we want to sell."

"And we have no choice but to go through this silly dance?"

"None."

"How do we get beyond the drones to someone who understands and who can make a decision?" he asked.

"You certainly understand the essence of our challenge. Despite the seeming disinterest, our clinical trials are being closely monitored. Uniformly positive results, especially if some are dramatic, are the best way to speed things along."

"All of which is out of my hands," he lamented. "So, it is perfectly understandable that I feel helpless."

"I'm afraid so."

"Doesn't the company recognize the waste of my time, here?"

"Yes, and no," Gretchen answered. "They recognize that you are being kept away from what you do best. On the other hand, things would go even more slowly if we did not have the proper technical expertise always available."

"Even if no one understands a word I say? Even if they don't know meaningful questions to ask me?"

"Even if."

On the good side, the frustrating negotiations meant time spent with Marielle. For really the first time in his life, Gordy had encountered a woman who could hold his attention for more than a few weeks. Romance had never been high a priority for him. Not to say that his libido was in any sense atrophied. He just had a very disciplined approach to what was truly important in his life. Early on, it had been survival and recovery. Then, it was completing his education. After that, it was establishing himself. None of that left room for romantic entanglements.

Every ten to fifteen days, there was another trip to DC, always requiring an overnight stay, and usually more than one night. After the often brief sessions with the FDA people, there was a lot of free time. From the beginning, Gordy and Marielle spent that time together.

She had been to DC many times, but she never showed any reluctance to tour the various sites and attractions with Gordy. They shared numerous dinners. They even went dancing, something that Gordy felt embarrassingly incompetent doing. She was persistent, though, and as in most things, he was a fast learner.

When the dates continued back home, things progressed to hand-holding, hugging, kissing, and very light petting. Marielle was beyond ready for things to go all the way. Gordy, however, always retreated from greater intimacy. Assuming that he might be trying to retain some semblance of professionalism, she took his retreats with outward calm. All the while, the longing and frustration was tearing her up inside. She had passed 'in love' very early in their acquaintance.

That a healthy, well-built, good-looking young man should have such disciplined control over his hormones had everything to do with the tale of Gordy's late teens and college years.

He grew up in a very typical family: mother, father, and a sister a little more than five years older. He had heard many times how easily his mother had conceived his sister, Cheri, and how hard they had tried to get her pregnant with him.

Perhaps in one way, his family was not completely typical. His mother was a beauty of movie star or beauty contest caliber, even in her forties. His father, quite a handsome man in his own right, was well aware of his wife's beauty. Unfortunately, he lived in fear of losing her to someone more wealthy, dashing, or perhaps unnaturally endowed. Also unfortunately, no suspected how much that fear dominated his life.

Unlike just a typical jealous husband, Gordy's father was never accusatory or overly suspicious. He channeled his fear and uncertainty into efforts to make his wife as happy and as satisfied as his time and resources allowed. He just could not be confident that his best would be enough.

Gordy's father's fear had no basis in his mothers' actions or inclinations, though. She was in no way pretentious about her beauty, and she was completely devoted to her husband.

They lived in a medium-small town that was dominated by one industry. That industry was owned by one Robert Krenz, the man who was the de facto baron of the area. Krenz's privately held company was certainly not abusive of its employees or the area, but there was no question that he was in complete control of everything.

Gordy's father had held a responsible financial position in Krenz's company for as long as Gordy could remember. He did not hold a high opinion of Krenz, but never, ever mouthed anything negative where his family could hear it. In fact, if Gordy or his sister ever parroted the widespread dislike of Krenz, his father rebuke them sternly.

Gordy's mother did some part-time and fill-in work at the executive offices of the same company, but she was always home for the children. When Gordy reached high school, though, his mother began spending more hours working.

One summer day, Gordy's comfortable little world came to a cataclysmic end. His summer job was at the local country club, and it had rained too heavily for any course maintenance, so everything was shut down. Arriving home, he was surprised to see that his father's car was there.

Casually entering the house, he heard his normally soft-spoken father yelling "Just answer the question! Is it true that you have been having sex with Krenz?!"

As Gordy was frozen by the shock of those words, his mother tried to stammer "But ... but ... I had to ... your job ... I..."

"Did he threaten my job?" His father demanded.

"He ... he ... didn't say ... I mean, there was no ... Ohhhh, please, I ... I..."

By then, Gordy, had come out of his frozen state and moved from the back door where he had entered the hous toward the front entryway, where the unbelievable confrontation was taking place. He arrived just in time to see his father put a pistol to his head and pull the trigger.

From all psychiatric evidence, the sight of her husband's brains blowing against the wall was the last completely conscious memory his mother ever had. She essentially checked out at that moment. From then on, she was able to move, to speak, to eat, and to do most normal actions. She just did them without any connection to reality. The psychological overload of what she had seen was just too much. Her own feelings of guilt and responsibility must have contributed, as well.

She never saw Gordy watching the grisly scene. Later, psychiatrists would debate whether concern for the impact of the tragedy on her son might have kept her from withdrawing if she had seen him there, but it was all just meaningless speculation.

Once his autonomic system forced Gordy to take a breath, his mind started to work. Despite being shocked at what she had just admitted, she was his immediate concern. It was only when he got close enough to see her eyes that he sensed that he had effectively lost both parents.

From somewhere finding the poise, Gordy backed away from the scene, leaving his mother standing there in a catatonic state. It came to him that the reason for his father's suicide must never be known. He called 911 and simply said that he had heard a gunshot as he approached the house and had found his father shot to death and his mother unresponsive.

The next call was very, very difficult. He and Cheri, because of the difference in their ages, were not very close, but they always got along very well. She had to hear it from him first. Fortunately, she was in her small apartment on the campus at a nearby city. He could barely speak the words.

Somehow, he was able to call his grandparents on his father's side and he was on the phone with them when the police arrived. All he had told Cheri and his grandparents was just what he had told the 911 operator.

Gordy would most likely have carried the terrible secret to his grave, except for Krenz's arrogance. Well, that may not be completely fair. Gordy's father had, after all, been a faithful, valued, long-term employee of Krenz's. Given Gordy's mother's catatonia and Gordy's statements to the police, Krenz had no reason to think that Gordy or anyone else knew about his dalliance with Gordy's mother. Thus, the baron came to the interment to pay his respects to a loyal vassal.

Gordy stood at the grave site between the people he wanted to protect, his sister Cheri and his paternal grandparents. His maternal grandparents were not there, too upset at their son-in-law for his action that had sent their daughter into insanity. Gordy loved them and wanted to protect them, also. It took unexpected psychological strength for a fifteen-year-old to hold the awful reality to himself.

When Krenz made his grand entrance, Gordy's psychological strength was exceeded. The minister had just taken his place to begin the burial rites when Krenz emerged from the limo, his personal assistant/body guard holding the door for him. Naturally, all of the sixty or seventy attendees looked toward the limo, just as Krenz had carefully planned.

Gordy snapped. Disentangling himself quickly from the comforting arms that were around him, he dashed straight toward Krenz, yelling at the to of his lungs "You get out of here, you monster! You can't be here! You're the reason he's dead! We had a happy family until you went after my moth... !"

At that point, the bodyguard reached Gordy and clamped a hand over his mouth. "You stupid kid! Shut your fuckin' mouth! What are you trying to... ?"

It was not a very masculine reaction, but in his rage, it was instinctive for Gordy. He bit down as hard as he could on the flesh of the bodyguard's hand. A few moments later, when he tasted blood, Gordy would realize just how hard he had bitten.

As soon as the hand was pulled away, Gordy continued his tirade. "She was a good wife and mother and you tricked her! What right did you have, just because you own everything? You're a murderer! A murderer!"

Once again, the bodyguard had Gordy restrained and silenced and the man looked toward his boss for instructions. With the augmented strength of a super adrenalin rush, Gordy stomped on the man's foot, then used the slight release of pressure to spin away.

Being restrained had only amplified Gordy's rage, but he had enough awareness to realize who the true target of his rage should be. He charged toward Krenz with such ferocity that the man recoiled, leaving himself vulnerable to Gordy's frenzied kick at his groin.

"You won't ever want to steal anyone's else's wife! Never again!" Gordy screamed, landing a second kick before Krenz could turn away. Both kicks had landed, but it was late fall and Krenz wore an overcoat. He was unable to stand straight as he staggered back to the limo with the assistance of the driver and the battered bodyguard.

As the roar of the departing limo died out, there was no sound but a few wintering birds to replace it. It took fifteen or twenty seconds for sounds of crying from relatives and close friends to fill the silence. Then, Cheri rushed to the now motionless boy and wrapped him in a hug. "Oh, God, Gordy! How awful it must have been to hear that. You weren't going to tell, were you?"

"I'm sorry, Cheri! I'm sorry! I didn't want to tell, but when he..."

"It's OK, Hon. It's OK. You can't keep that to yourself. At least, now, I know why ... OH, God!" With that, she lost it in tears, and Gordy went with her.

It was over ten minutes before the minister was able to do a very abbreviated service.

Gordy's Grandfather, Bent Alford, was a very astute man. He did not live in town, but from many discussions with Gordy's father, he had a good idea how Krenz would react. Bent immediately called a lawyer friend from his own town and asked him to get to Gordy's house right away. The lawyer said that the best he could do because of court commitments was about two hours. Bent got both Gordy and Cheri in his car and they all drove away quickly.

"Where are we going, Grandpa?" Cheri asked.

"To the TV station in Braxton. They would love a chance to do a negative piece on Krenz. He has tried some pretty rough stuff on them."