Chapter 35: Details, details

Christine's surgery had gone smoothly, and she was back on her feet in no time. The doctor released her for school after only a few days, but certifying her safe to fly would take a while longer, and as a result, she was shut out of the simulators as well. It may seem like a silly thing, but the goal was to make the educational experience mirror the real world as closely as possible, and pilots had to be physically capable of handling all possible aspects of the job, including emergencies, so she had to wait. Fortunately, that only extended to real world simulations, not the ones she played with at night, so she was in no danger of losing any of her new-found skills.

And then there were the other things she could still do in her sleep, regardless of her physical condition. We had to have Walter come in and distract Widget the first night so we could be alone. They chased each other around the jungle while Christine thanked me for looking out for her. In a week's time, we had patterns in place in all the girls and most of the adults we were trying to save. It would have taken longer if Allison hadn't come up with the idea of breaking the larger balls up. She had been working on a study project involving cellular division when the idea occurred to her. She wasn't even sure it would work at first, but with Lizzy on hand to oversee the process, we managed to get through it. If you divided them down too small they became unstable, but to a point it seemed to work just fine. On the one hand, it was great because it really sped things up, but on the other, I was a little saddened because, well ... it sped things up, and Christine and I – and Jamie of course – really enjoyed the creative process. We also discovered that Jamie was correct: not only were the other girls not strong enough to trigger a quickening with Christine, but it was even worse if she was with them, because – as she had suggested – she actually took energy away from process rather than contributing to it.

It still took most of January to get set up to take down Hightower. After we finally had him securely locked down, we still had to figure out – or rather Jamie and Allison had to figure out – a way to wrap this all up without loose ends; hopefully, without creating more problems along the way. All, of course, without attracting attention to me – which was going to be difficult at best; too many people in high places already knew David Malcolm was involved in taking Bastion down.

With technical support from Rebecca's friend Dillon – who ran a high-end spy shop in LA – we had acquired three fresh hard drives identical to the ones in Hightower's rig, set up a second RAID array, and begun selectively moving data from the original array to the new one.

It was slow going because we had to keep changing the date and time settings so that the file attributes would not be lost. That meant we had to find everything we wanted, set it up in sequence by the date on the original file, and change the date in the computer so that it would correctly time-stamp the new copies before we could move them. It was slow, tedious work, but thanks to our time with Bart Reston – another specialist Rod had referred me to when it first looked like I may have to change my name and run – we knew just how critical it was that there be no hint of what we had really done. Bart's official title was "Forensic Technologist", and he was a master at manipulating data. Part of his job was creating backgrounds and false identities for agents working in the field – backgrounds that would hold up to scrutiny from the best hackers bad money, and foreign governments, could buy.

The most time consuming part was that we had to actually look at all of it to make sure we didn't transfer anything damaging by accident. Watching all the video was especially painful, but in the end it paid off big time. Nestled in among the other video was footage of several punishment sessions, and, just as important, documentation of Autumn's sale to a foreign national, including all of the contacts.

Getting Autumn out of the country had been simple enough once the deal was made; Bastion simply drugged her to make her more pliable and then commanded her to go with the nice gentleman. Fake documents had been prepared identifying her as the man's daughter, and, under Bastion's control, she accepted the role without question. By the time she came out of it, it was far too late. In the end it was these things – the punishment video and proof that Bastion sold Autumn into slavery – that gave Allison the idea for how to end this once and for all.

Eventually this could all end up in court, and the defense would surely bring in their own cyber-forensics team to try and prove that the government was setting Bastion up in yet another attempt to persecute him. That's why we couldn't just delete the information from the original drives and be done with it. The methods necessary to make the data truly unrecoverable left very clear evidence that something had been deleted, and that might be enough for reasonable doubt in the case. We couldn't afford that, so we had to do it the long slow way – meticulously, one piece at a time – including a lot of the extraneous stuff that accumulates in a computer over time. If all we had on the new drives were perfectly preserved files, that would raise a red flag all by itself. We were actually going to do some not quite perfect erasures on some files that implicated Hightower; this would make it look like he had tried to delete the files personally, especially considering the password and encryption protections he had in place. While we were trying to figure out how to do that, I remember what he said about the virus that would be set off if anyone without the proper password tampered with the system. With Reston's help we not only isolated the virus, but re-wrote it to only go after specific files.

It took several weeks, but eventually we had it all set up the way we needed it and took the server back. One of the trickiest parts of the whole operation would normally be not disturbing the existing fingerprints. Fortunately we didn't have to worry about that; all we had to do was have Hightower go in after we put it back and move it around; a loose mouse cable was all the excuse we needed for that. The really tricky part was leaving the right amount of dust on top of the machine to make it credible.

Now that the evidence we wanted found – well, not really wanted, but didn't care if they found – was in place, it was just a matter of waiting until all the other matters had resolved themselves. If everything went as planned, I wouldn't even know it was happening until it was over.

Amy's birthday was February 12^th, which was a Monday this year. You don't generally see a lot of big parties on Mondays, but Rico Girard had been planning this celebration for years. His annual conference always started on Her Birthday, and ended with a big Valentine's Day Gala, and everyone was encouraged to bring their significant others and celebrate.

The big finale always started, if possible, with the same speech, "What kind of party would you throw if one of your family – a son, a daughter, a brother or sister, or even just an old friend – suddenly woke up after years alone in the dark? That is the celebration we're having tonight..."

He would then introduce any of the awakenings that had occurred over the previous year. This was always greeted with wild applause, standing ovations, and cheering as everyone – doctors, nurses, vendors, insurance carriers, everyone – welcomed them back to the world.

It wasn't always like that; sometimes there were no guests to honor. For those occasions, he had a different speech: "There are no special guests this year, so instead we will celebrate the hope we have for next year. We will celebrate tonight, and then tomorrow we will go home, some back to our jobs, caring for our charges as best we can, so that when their day does come, they are in the best possible state to make the best possible recovery. Others will go back to their research, and they will bust their asses to find anything that can move us even the smallest step forward in our care or treatment of these beloved individuals. Ladies and gentleman..." he would raise his glass, " ... to Hope!"

The consolation speech always got a standing ovation as well; it just wasn't quite as wild and didn't last nearly as long. The same could be said for the party itself.

This year Rico was pulling out all the stops, because this year, She was coming. You heard the buzz of rumor all around the conference from the moment they opened the doors. And it hadn't started then, oh no. Long before the conference, people had been asking, "Is it true? Is She really going to be there?"

No one in the industry had to ask who She was; they all knew Amy's story. Every year since the founding of the conference, her picture – the last one taken before the accident – graced the front of the podium. The news of her rescue – coming as it had in such a dramatic way with the end of the long hunt for the Sandman – had made all the papers and major media outlets, but for most people it was just a name in the paper. The rumor of her awakening, though ... well, that was a rumor, and everyone knows how those travel. Tickets for the Gala had sold out so fast you would have thought the Rolling Stones were playing the benefit. As a result, the hotel – Rico's biggest – had moved everything else they had booked for that week to one of their other locations. A couple of the events had complained at first, but once they were told the reason for the change of venue, both clients were more than happy to comply. One had been a popular talk show host doing a tour as a motivational speaker. He had asked for, and received, tickets to the Gala. They were offered as a gift for his cooperation, but he insisted on paying for them.

And, of course, I was doing my part. Aside from setting up a place for Amy and Walter to practice dancing together, I had also commissioned a very special dress for her.

It was going to be a grand event.

Christine was bummed that she wouldn't be able to attend the Gala, but since she didn't know Amy, and had only met her sister the one time when we were skiing, she didn't mind that much. Mostly she just thought it sounded like it was going to be one of those 'Lifetime' events that didn't come along often.

Allison, on the other hand, was totally pissed when I told her she couldn't go.

"The hell I can't!" She retorted. "Me, miss Amy's party? Sooo not happening."

"But how can you... ?"

"Don't bother," she said. "I'm going; that's final."

"Allison, dear," Mom began. I'd made the trip out to do this in person just so I could have her in my corner.

"Mother," Allison said warningly.

"Oh shit," Jamie said. "She used the M-word."

"Mom," Allison continued, putting her hand on my mom's. "I love you, but stay out of this. He only came in person because he knew you would take his side."

"Now, Allison Ann..." my mother began.

"Ohmygod!" Jamie exclaimed. "Dude, I am so out of here. Call me when the shooting stops."

"Hey!?"

"I'm kidding."

"Don't Allison Ann me," Allison said, cutting her off. "I'm Charlie now, Charlotte if you're pissed at me, and he knew damn well I wasn't going to go along with this. He's just trying to drag you into the middle because he knows that you'll back him up. Go ahead, ask him."

"James?" my mom had said, cocking her head and adding a silent question mark after the name.

I resisted the urge to give 'Charlie' a dirty look. "That is not the only reason I came in person, Mom. Charlotte and I talked about it before Christmas, and she told me she thought you would really like to see me."

"Not the only reason," she said with a frown. "Charlie, you're forgiven, and you're right about the name; I'm sorry. Now, what's going on? One at a time ... James?"

"It's too dangerous," I said. "If we're together, the wrong people may recognize us, realize who she is, and then follow her back to you."

She nodded her head and turned to Allison.

"Charlotte Montgomery is no one anybody is going to be interested in. She looks nothing like Allison Matthews, and nobody who sees her in a crowd of a couple thousand people is going to have reason to suspect any different. The people who know David Malcolm is really Jimmy I can count with my shoes on and one hand tied behind my back, and only a few of them will even be there. Not to mention that there is no reason whatsoever for James or Allison Matthews to be invited to – or attend – a party for Amy, whom they've never even met."

She was right about Charlotte Montgomery not looking like Allison. The changes were simple but striking, tinted highlights in her hair and a more ... severe style of cut. Her tan; I thought she had tanned well in Southern California, but here, under the tropical sun ... wow! And she wore it well, too, dressing to accent the new style she had adopted. She had talked about going more toward a punk-not-quite-goth look – Abby from NCIS was her television hero – but she didn't want people drawing the parallel, so she had gone the other direction instead. Her clothing choices were now somewhere between the prep-nerd and the junior vice president. When she was at school, she was all business, sporting a very conservative, no-nonsense look: straight skirts or slacks, low heels or pumps. Island weather didn't leave room for a jacket, so she stayed with simple blouses or polo shirts. Being on a home study program, her visits were really only to check in, test, or do lab work she couldn't do at home anyway. The polo shirts went just as well with her casual look, usually matched with board shorts of varying lengths. As for beachwear ... I'd grown up with her in bikinis most of her life, but now she tended to wear board shorts or wraps over the bottoms most of the time, only taking them off when she was going into the water; which she did a lot. When she was surfing, she wore competition grade suits. It generally only takes one time losing your suit because a wave popped your strings before the girls learn to respect the water. Swimming had become her primary exercise as well, and her body was filling out nicely, which was a good thing since her uh ... body was filling out nicely. She was also playing for one of the local volleyball clubs, and planning to try out for the college team once she reached the level where she could attend full time, which – at the rate she was going – wouldn't be more than another year. I was now convinced that she had really been holding back all these years.

Someone that had seen her sunbathing over the years might put two and two together if they saw her just coming up out of the water with her hair slicked back, but dressed up with her hair and makeup done? She was right; it was unlikely that anyone who had seen her just the few short months ago – before she disappeared – would recognize her.

"She's right," Jamie said. "Besides, who says we have to give anyone a chance to follow her? We've got a suite; we'll just bring her straight there and back. We can fake up a ticketless flight itinerary, have your folks drop her off at the airport and pull her out of the bathroom or something."

"I don't know if that will work in the airports here; they're not that big."

"Whatever," she said. "We'll work that out later. Now suck it up, make nice, and tell her she can come. Then you better do something nice for your mom so she doesn't think that really was the only reason you came in person."

I was traveling under my 'other' identity, so it was Matthew Jameson who had reservations to take them all to the luau at the Westin. It's a really nice show; check it out if you ever get the chance.

We got around the airport problem by scheduling her flight for a time when both my parents were at work and having her catch a shuttle from one of the local hotels. It would have been really nice if she could have come early, and we could have seen some of the sights, but David Malcolm was a known entity, and for him to be seen around town in the company of a young girl risked attracting attention. Besides, it was cold as hell, and everything was frozen over anyway. Bringing her straight to the hotel as I did kept her out of the worst of it, and Lizzy was bringing an extra jacket for her when she and Amber came – just in case we wanted to go out. I took her downstairs just long enough to introduce her as one of my party, get her a key, and make sure they knew she was cleared to charge whatever she wanted to my room. Otherwise she stayed inside where it was warm most of the time.

We had dinner with Bob and Rebecca the first night, and neither of them recognized her when she walked into the dining room. She had me wait while she went in, and it wasn't until she spoke – telling them that I would be along in a minute – that they realized it was she. Looking back, I now realized that the dream image we all had of her still reflected the girl we knew before, and as I said, the recent changes were rather striking.

"Where's Amy?" Allison had asked. "I thought she'd be here with you."

"She's flying in tomorrow," Rebecca answered. "Rico was afraid she would be a distraction if she got here early. He's probably right; the buzz about her attending the conference got the attention of the local media and got them asking questions. I've had two requests for interviews already, and just so you know, you're sitting with us for the gala, along with Rod and Selena."

"Will we all fit?" Allison asked. "You know Lizzy and Amber are coming, too, right?"

"Of course," Rebecca said. "The tables seat eight, so this way we have the whole table. It works out perfectly."

"What did the doctors say?" Allison asked.

"They said she could try," Rebecca said. The look on her face and her tone said she still had strong reservations about Amy exerting herself too much. "I made her promise to take it easy. One dance, and then we'll see how she feels. She's asked for David to dance with her." She turned to me, "David, are you strong enough to catch her if she starts to fall?"

"Oh yeah, no problem," I assured her.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"He's sure," Allison assured her, and then her face lit with an idea. "But don't take my word for it, let's go dancing!"

Glances were exchanged all around, and suddenly we had plans for the night. We got directions to an upscale local club that featured Swing, Salsa, and several of the other, more energetic, ballroom styles. All the practice Bob and Rebecca had put in really showed in their dancing, and several times they were spotlighted and received rounds of applause. We weren't in their league, but I think they were impressed with Allison and me as well. Hey, we knew it was coming up, and we had wanted to make sure we didn't embarrass ourselves, so we had been practicing as well – as had Amber and Easy, although it was a little harder for them since they had to take turns leading. All in all, it was a great night. The only spot of tension was when we first arrived and Rebecca had approached the bouncer and asked to speak to the manager. At first he took it personally that she thought she needed to go over his head for something, but a discreet flash of her ID got her an audience very quickly. When he tried to send her with someone else, she had quietly insisted that he leave the new guy at the door and take her himself. Once in the office she made it clear that she was not here in any official capacity, but just to have a good time.

The reason she had wanted to see the manager was that she needed a safe place to leave her gun. The reason she wanted the head bouncer there was so that he would understand who she was and make sure his people made an extra effort to insure that nothing happened that she might be required to take official notice of; someone getting a little pick-me-up or mood enhancement in the ladies room was not something she was worried about, but someone dealing in the ladies room would be an issue. Not that she was under the idea that anything like that would ever be allowed in the club, but ... Everyone understood the 'but', and there were no incidents while we were there.

It was late, and we were pleasantly worn out by the time we got back to the room. A half hour soak in the heart shaped two-person spa tub, and we were ready for bed. Let me tell you, a whole night, uninterrupted, with Allison snuggled to my side, was a real treat.

Lizzy and Amber arrived the next day, and the women spent the entire afternoon in the salon getting primped, pampered, manicured, and coiffed for the big event. When Amber came out of the bedroom in her prom dress I almost cried. At first I thought it was Angela, but then I noticed the choker at her throat. It was a simple strip of brushed suede, dyed to match the dress, with a small dangle hanging from the front. If you looked closely you would notice that the dangle was actually a lock securing the leather around her throat. I recognized the dragon shape as the one that graced the first collar I had given her, back when she was seeing Jasmine for training and learning who she was.

"Do you like it, Master?" she asked when she knew I had noticed it.

"I like it very much, Amber," I said. "Wherever did you get it?"

"My Mistress had it made for me," she said in a voice that reminded me of any five-year-old showing off a new necklace. "We were talking about what I could wear that would reflect who I am without being too obvious and I remembered this little guy from my training dreams. I drew it up and she had a local jeweler make it for me. It took a couple tries before we found someone who could do it, but she found this one guy, a really sweet old guy, who put himself through college as a locksmith when he was younger. He was so excited when he saw the design, and we told him what we wanted. It's not really finished yet, but he said I could take it for the weekend."

"I think it's fabulous," I said, kissing her softly.

"Thank you Master," she said, and then raised her voice and called, "Okay Allison! You're up!"

The door opened and all I could think was "Wow!" She was wearing a black cocktail dress that hugged her shape nicely. It was very sexy, yet conservative enough that she was in no danger of flashing anything; not on accident anyway. Still, I wanted to jump her on the spot.

Neither prepared me for my fiancé.

When the door opened the third time and Easy stepped out into the light ... suddenly I couldn't breathe. Somehow she had captured the essence of her dream dress – the one she wore to the garden to meet me – in a style and material that would move well while dancing. It was simple, yet elegant, the material light and ethereal but at the same time heavy enough to drape properly. I think it was the garland of flowers woven into her hair that really brought it home for me. There was no way they were going to survive the night, but for now ... My knees still get weak when I think of it.

"Okay, you two," Allison said, breaking the spell. "First rule: kisses are limited to cheeks and hands. For tonight I think it would be best if lips were considered off limits. If either of you feels the need for more, Amber or I will be happy to accommodate you, but we don't want this turning into the biggest spontaneous orgy in American history, so behave yourselves!"

Everybody was on the edge of their seats as Rico went through his traditional speech. This year's version included more history than usual as he led up to Amy's introduction. He introduced the other three awakenings first, then the directors of both of the facilities that Amy had spent time in, as well as every person that had ever attended her. Neither Allison nor I were in the room for most of it, having slipped away to prepare for Amy's introduction. Allison went to the little room Amy was waiting in and prepared to push her wheelchair out into the main room. Meanwhile, I was in a different room preparing my personal surprise. The door locked securely, I stepped across into dream space, and when I returned I was a foot taller, with shoulder-length black hair tied into a tight ponytail and wearing a black tuxedo, with tails.