Chapter 45: Loose Ends Amber

Jamie

I met Sandra Atkins in her office, just so she would have a familiar point of reference.

"Why the disguise?"

"This is the way people see me here. It's easier to be consistent, and I've been using it so long that – unless I'm specific – this is the way I appear."

"I see," she said. "Well, thank you for coming; I wasn't sure you would."

"There isn't much point in avoiding it at this point; you know too much, and you're used to getting your way – by whatever means necessary – and I didn't want you to do anything that I might have to make you regret."

"Is that a threat?" She asked.

"No," I said, changing one of the straight-backed chairs in front of her desk to a large beanbag and flopping in it. "I try not to make threats; they attract attention, even in dreams. Your subconscious wants to pick at it and see if it's real; it causes problems."

Now her desk was too high, so I changed the beanbag into Jimmy's mom's old rocker-recliner – with a different cover on it, of course, no point in taking chances.

"You're going to try and catch me, aren't you?"

That seemed to take her off guard. I don't think she expected me to be so direct.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to," she said. "You're too dangerous."

"You mean I'm too dangerous to risk someone else catching me first," I accused.

"That too," she admitted.

"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of. I almost walked away from Samantha and the others rather than risk it."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I'm glad you didn't."

I rolled my eyes, "Duh! You get your man – finally – and now you've got me to chase in his place. What do they call that ... job security?"

She shook her head. "Wallace said you were young – late teens, but under twenty. I had my doubts, but now I'm not so sure."

I don't think she actually expected me to answer, but I did anyway, "Younger, much younger."

Around a year old by one way of looking at it, but I certainly wasn't going to tell her that ... I also didn't want to give her time to ask; time to change the subject.

"You can't find me, Sandra; there are no links to follow. I learned that lesson once; I won't risk it again. David is your only link, and he doesn't know who I am. Both Hampton and Rodriguez think it's him, and they'll do everything they can to protect him, and what they can't do, I can. Henslith already learned that lesson. We did a better job of hiding his family this time, but she still knows where he is. One of these days she may try again, or she may have decided that it's not worth it."

"I'm not going to ask," she said. "Not right now, anyway. Why David?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why did you pick David?"

"It was an accident. When I first learned I could do this, it was all really random; I'd meet someone, and the next thing you know, I was in their dreams. One of my old baby-sitters had a crush on him ... God, she used to go on and on about him. I would bounce in and out of her nighttime fantasies, and she'd be making out with him and stuff. Then, one night I found myself in his dream. Turns out he was seriously into the spy thing – in his dreams, anyway. Kind of a James Bond meets Jason Bourne kind of guy. He's really good, and he hides it really really well; you'd never know it to look at him. Even his parents don't realize ... And don't bother asking; she's dead – car accident – and no, I didn't have anything to do with it, but again, there is no traceable link to me.

"I decided to play along with one of his ... you know 'missions'. It was fun, and I wanted to do it again. He was the first one I could go to on purpose. One night when I showed up, he just stopped and started talking to me. Nothing fancy, he just told me I needed to be more careful. You can imagine how surprised I was that he realized I was an actual person and not just another character in his fantasy, but then, I guess if you went to that much effort to craft a scenario, you would know all the players. We talked; he taught me a lot. He was the one who warned me about people like you, and what would happen if you found out about me."

"Does he know how old you are?"

"He knows I'm young. He knows that I knew Shannon, but not how I knew her. We were there for each other when she died, but that was later. Anyway, one night I found myself in a strange place, seeing things that I knew I couldn't know; people I knew I'd never met. And it was weird; like I was looking out through someone else's eyes. It didn't last long, just images of a girl in different places. I told him about it the next night, and the next time it happened we tried something new: as soon as it started, I kind of pulled him to me so he could watch with me. As soon as he realized what was happening, he told me to leave – that this was something I shouldn't see. I didn't know if it was even possible to leave him there – it was all so new then, and I'd only just brought him over – but he insisted, so I left. We'd never tried it before, but it worked, and he got to stay for the whole thing. It must have been pretty awful; I could see that it really hurt him to watch it, but he knew it was important, so he stuck it out. That was our first real meeting with the Sandman, and what we were seeing was images of him killing Diane McKenzie. Well, you know, not just killing her; there was all the other stuff too, that's why he didn't want me to see. Considering what it did to him, I'm glad he made me go away. Jimmy – that's David's real name, and the first really big mistake we made was in not changing it – got Rebecca involved. That was tricky, let me tell you: we had to convince her that the crime was real, while at the same time not ending up as the prime suspects ourselves. It wasn't easy. She was a fed, and Jimmy didn't want her to know about me, so he became the person she was used to dealing with. Then something happened one night – unrelated but still bad – and they actually ended up meeting for real. They'd been working together long enough by then that she trusted him, so it wasn't a big deal, and it proved to her – once and for all – that he was too young to be the killer. The rest you know: with my help, they eventually got Kurtz, and David got the credit.

"What we didn't count on was Henslith turning out to be the Black Queen. Apparently while she and Hampton were on a stakeout in Palm Springs, Henslith did something – we think it was a combination of drugs and hypnosis of some kind – and found out the truth, or at least, she found out about that Jimmy was Rebecca's mysterious source. The next thing we know, someone is trying to kidnap him. The first one wasn't so bad, Jimmy spotted him and took him down, but they killed him at the hospital before Rod could question him; we knew then that they'd keep trying. When they grabbed Britney, we decided it would be better if we lived to fight another day, preferably on our own terms. We caught a break on a drug thing at his school, and that gave Rod a provable case to attach moving them all to. He'd met Jimmy during the time when Angela disappeared, and again after they caught the first guy. There still wasn't much Rod could do without risking drawing more attention, – he had to stay under the radar – but he could handle moving them and getting them new IDs.

It still sucked, though; I screwed up, and they all paid the price. Jimmy was cool about it, though; it was his idea to split them up; it was safer for them, and it freed him up to try and help Sam and the others. We'd stumbled onto Bastion's operation while investigating Amanda Watkins for Rebecca. He came up with David as a cover..."

"Is that why you pay him so well?"

"I ruined his life," I said, looking away. "My mistake put his friends and family at risk. I promised him I would do everything I could to protect them after that. It hasn't been easy – Henslith is really good."

"Where did you get the money?" she asked.

I did my best to look embarrassed and said, "I stole it."

She started to react, her head just beginning to shake back and forth.

"It's not like that," I said. "Rebecca and her 'new partner' – this was before we figured out who she really was – were looking for a way to shake up the Sandman and get him to do something, so they could get another shot at him. They figured the easiest way would be to disrupt his finances. In one of his dreams, I found a scene of him opening an account at a bank in Europe. I got the access codes and passwords, and then had David use the information to clean out the account, figuring that would get a reaction. Anyway, once it was transferred, he went to see how much it was and about wet himself. He was worried that we had gone too far, and that Kurtz would go crazy, so he went straight to Rod and told him what he had done. You know the rest of the story, right?"

"I know enough," she confirmed, "how much?"

"A little over six million," I said.

"Wha... ? Six million? Good God, no wonder everyone was so worried. That was right before Henslith disappeared, wasn't it?"

"Yes. She knew something was up when Rod insisted on protection for both of them. We think she took advantage of the situation to stage her disappearance. Rod had been looking for a way for David – Jimmy actually, he didn't become David until later – to turn the money in, but it's hard to hand over that kind of cash and remain anonymous. He was still working on it when someone grabbed Britney, and everyone had to go away, so Rod told him to keep it, figuring Jimmy would need it to hide and start a new life. Turned out he was right. Anyway – in spite of everything that had happened – Jimmy liked working with me; he didn't blame me for what had happened; said it was a lesson we had learned and next time we had to be more careful. There was still Sam and the girls to deal with, so ... as long as the people in his life are protected and taken care of...

"I give him help when I can – like finding that missing painting – and I keep his people safe. He likes helping people, particularly people he feels are getting screwed; it was his idea to use some of the money to help people like Angela – and later Tanya – who got caught up in things they couldn't control. We figured we knew how the Sandman made it, so if we could use it to help people, it sort of helped make up for it. I think he can be a benefit to you in many ways."

That seemed to catch her off guard.

"You mean besides leading me to you?"

"I'm not worried about that," I said, rolling my eyes. "I already told you, Sandra, he can't lead you to me, but I promise not to be too upset if you try, as long as you're doing your part to keep him – and those he cares about – safe. And, if he's working for you and needs my help ... I'll do what I can. As for how he can help you, he has some interesting ideas; talk to him."

I guess I couldn't blame her for being curious.

"So what would have happened if I'd gone after David or something to get you to come to me?"

"I'd rather not go there," I said seriously. "I know what you want, Sandra: Bastion told you what I could do; you believe him, but you want me to prove it. Like being here now – in your dream – isn't proof enough. Okay, how about this... ?"

Just like that, we were sitting by the pool: she in a lounge chair, wearing a bathing suit and a big floppy straw hat to keep the sun off of her face; me in the water, looking up at her. The scene changed again, and we were in the basement room she had taken Rebecca to when she brought her in to ask her about Bastion – only this time it was her in the chair and Rebecca doing the questioning. Behind Rebecca the door opened, and that ball thing Darth Vader had used on Princess Leah came floating into the room. Then we were back in her office.

"Is that enough proof?"

"So you really can control dreams; not just enter them," she said. Her voice was neutral; she had gotten the confirmation she had expected, nothing more. I could see almost see the wheels turning as she decided where to go next. "You don't strike me as the torture type."

"I'm not, but I won't let people be hurt again because of me." I pause just long enough to be sure I had her attention. "It doesn't have to be torture, Sandra."

"No? What then?"

The scene flickered, and for a split microsecond she was back in the conference room sandwiched between Bastion and the guard. It lasted only long enough for her to recognize where she was. Maybe it was my imagination, but she looked like she had lost a little color when we got back.

"You could relive that, every night, over and over, only each night it could get just a little bit worse, last just a little bit longer – Ask Rebecca about a cop from San Diego named Mikkelson ... I'm not afraid of you, Sandra, because you can't reach me. I understand that you're afraid of me – and that that little demonstration didn't help – and why you're afraid. I just don't want innocent people getting hurt because you feel like you have to catch me. I know what I did was wrong, but it was the only way to stop him; you know it was, because you couldn't even touch him on the stuff you did know about. Given what you know now – especially about what Bastion was capable of – could you ever have stopped him?"

"That doesn't make it right," she said, not really answering the question, but acknowledging my point nonetheless.

"Tell that to Sam and the others," I retorted. "They feel safe, some of them for the first time in their lives! They're with people that they know love them and will protect them. I know it wasn't right, and believe me, if there had been another way ... but there wasn't. I'm sorry it was necessary, but I'd do it again tomorrow. Only next time I'd make sure he died before he had a chance to talk to you."

"Why did you let him live?" she asked.

"It was Jimmy's idea," I said. "I thought we should have let him die along with the rest of the board, but Jimmy wanted to give the system a chance. He said that it would be better for the victims if they could see him face justice. I don't argue with him about things like that. Jimmy's amazing when it comes to understanding people. You know Rebecca's boyfriend, Mr. Shelby?"

"Fiancé," she corrected me. She hadn't meant to interrupt, it was just one of those things people do in a conversation when someone gets something wrong. If she only knew...

"Whatever," I said, "Jimmy talks to him about stuff, like what the girls are going through, and Mr. Shelby is constantly amazed at his insights. He says knowing Bastion died in jail won't be quite as good for them, but it's something anyway. Still, if we had to do it again..."

"You see," Sandra said, and this time she was interrupting. "That's what worries me. You could do it again, and no one would know. That makes you dangerous, very dangerous."

"I know," I said, looking away as if I was embarrassed, "but stopping me isn't really what you want. What you want is to control me, study me ... use me. Otherwise you wouldn't be doing this..."

The scene changed again, and she was lying in the bed at the special facility where she was spending the night – in a very special bed – being watched over by the same young man who had been with her the night before.

Only now it was me in the lab coat, talking to her as I checked over the last of the wiring. She was obviously surprised at her surroundings.

"Dreams are funny things, Sandra, and you can have more than one at a time. All I did was encourage a little one about getting ready for bed, and you did the rest. I'm not your enemy, Sandra, and – as I'm sure you have already figured out – David is not the only person I have helping me; he's just the only one I'm helping – or who knows it's me they're helping. It's a very complicated story, but before he died, Rene Kurtz thanked David for stopping him. That was wrong, too, but it was better for everyone that it happened the way it did. Even Rene didn't believe we could hold him long enough to see a courtroom. Care to argue the point?"

Silence.

Yah ... didn't think so. I was surprised that she hadn't pushed for more on exactly how Bastion came to be holding the gun that slaughtered the board members.

Atkins

"He's not coming."

I recognized David Malcolm's voice, but I was momentarily thrown by what he had said. I almost asked him what he was talking about, but managed to stop myself. Obviously she hadn't told him about our little meeting the night before. Apparently she was serious about keeping secrets from him. There were so many questions I had wanted to ask her – and him now – but it was too soon to push. The last thing I wanted to do was scare either of them away.

"Really," she said. "I'm disappointed."

"I'm sure," he said. "Apparently, exposing himself to your lab friends was just a little more risk than he was willing to take. So where does that leave us?"

"My lab friends?"

"Come on Miss Atkins, you don't really expect me to believe you weren't planning to be buried under a mountain of sensors trying to find a way to spot him when he showed up? After all that's happened – all that you now know he's capable of – tell me your first priority in life isn't tracking him down? You can't seriously expect him to just hand you a chance to see if you can spot him in someone's dream."

"Well, when you put it that way ... And of course I'm going to try and find him; he presents too great a risk."

"I guess that depends on your point of view. He knows what would happen if you caught him; he's not going to let that happen, and he certainly isn't going to help you track him down."

"I could haul you and your friends in for questioning," I suggested.

"You wouldn't get any answers," he said. "He's just a voice on the phone most of the time. You know the rest, and I don't talk about it – even on a secure line. The girls don't know anything about him at all. They know the drug story was just a cover, but that's it. My family doesn't even know the truth; All they know is that I got reward money for some of the things I did, and that I used it to set myself up in business. It's not the life they envisioned for me, but they're proud of me – especially about how I used some of the money to help Angela get her life back. They'd like to see me, but I told them that I didn't want to risk anything happening again. After that last attempt, they don't question anything anymore.

"If Henslith hadn't gotten to Rebecca, this wouldn't be necessary, but there's nothing we can do about that now. I could change my name and move again, but that's expensive, and I'm just getting established here. I don't know what her game is – based on what I do know, my guess is she wants the same thing you do – and I'm betting she hasn't given up. If she wanted me dead, it would be different, but that's not the case, and it's a lot harder to kidnap someone in a crowded public place. She's tried hiring the job and it hasn't worked, so if she does try again, I'm guessing it will be in person. What is the reward for someone like her?

"It almost sounds like you are looking forward to her trying again. I'd question your sanity – wanting someone like her to find you – except that you're right. You just better hope she doesn't change her mind about her goals."

"He said you asked about working with me before you knew about any of this. Now he figures you'll want to just to maintain access and hope that somehow I'll lead you to him. I'm okay with doing the occasional odd job for you, but we play by my rules. I don't know you, but I know what you represent and, to some extent, how you work. Your first priority is maintaining your invisibility, everything else – everyone else – is secondary; I learned that when you wouldn't help with Phoebe. I represent an opportunity for you to work in front of the curtain for a change – without risking exposure – a chance you probably don't get very often. And, obviously, I bring a unique set of resources with me, but again, we play by my rules or we don't play. As you've probably noticed, I don't like it when innocent people get hurt. I understand that it's dangerous playing in the big leagues, and that sometimes bystanders get hurt. The difference is that I don't look the other way when it happens. Do you know he's providing counseling for the girls?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that he's arranged for them to have access to therapists, at night, when they're sleeping. It's not a perfect solution, but when you're trying to keep the world from knowing the truth about what happened to them ... Can you imagine trying to go through high school if everyone knew that your own parents had been raping you and passing you around like a party favor for years?"