Chapter 12

Present – Jack – Private Airport – Washington D.C.

I'm glad as hell I saw Samantha's news report on the bus hijacking! I called up the control room then went down and viewed the report one more time - stopping it at several places just to make sure. Yes siree! The battle at the bus had Banzai's fingerprints all over it. While we waited at the airport for Liz's flight, I decided to give Samantha a call and see if any private close-ups of the dead bastards were available. Just to make sure!

Her phone rings then I hear, "This is Samantha Stevens."

I begin my request, "Samantha, this is Jack. We are waiting for Liz's flight and I was wondering if you could get some private close-ups of the bodies?"

She does the typical reporter bullshit and answers my question with a question, "Sure Jack, but can you please tell me why?"

I answer, "Well, I'm not certain of this, but I think your mystery gunman might possibly be Banzai Ben."

She gets very excited and promises, "Jack, not only will I get you the pictures, we also have the bandage which was on his wound. I will make sure we overnight it to you and you can have it analyzed for fingerprints and DNA. I've felt a little responsible since I was with him right before he left."

I smile and try to lessen her guilt, "Samantha, it's not your fault. The bandage is great news and it will fill in some of the blanks. Keep up the good work!"

As I hang up the phone, I look toward Masha and say, "I think we might have just found Jens' fiancé, Banzai."

Masha answers, "Jack that would be such very good news. I know she is acting crazy because he is gone. You men do not understand the torture you put us through when you leave us. And I remember how perfect they were for each other when we met in Hawaii. I especially remember how happy they were. Just as Ben was responsible for getting us together in Moscow, we both need to help them to get back together."

She looks at her watch and asks, "Shouldn't the flight have arrived by now?"

I glance at my watch: The flight is very late and I wonder what the hell is going on. I know Liz, and she would certainly call me if her flight was delayed or diverted. I start on a really bad feeling as an official vehicle drives up. I watch as two suits get out and walk to where we are standing.

One man asks, "Are you waiting for Elizabeth Morgan's flight?"

I reply, "Yes we are. Now, who are you?" I also wonder what the hell Liz did or brought back this time that's brought out the suits...

Present – Jens – Yellow Cab 423 – Washington D.C.

I'm a little upset about getting thrown out of Gunny's (again) and decide the old fart doesn't have a sense of humor. Oh yeah, so we made a little mess out of his bar with our taser contest. But it's not like last time when a bunch of tables and chairs got busted. I wave a big handful of bills under Megs' nose and announce, "Ah the sweet smell of success! Winning bets from those Marines was like taking candy from a baby."

Megs pleads, "Quick stop the cab I'm going to be sick!"

I giggle because if there's one way to get a cabbie to stop, it's the threat to throw up in his cab. He flies to the side of the street and stops. Megs bails out with Jim right behind her and starts puking her guts out. Matt looks at me and offers, "I guess she can't hold her liquor."

I watch Jim helping her (secretly glad it wasn't me) and state, "She used to do pretty good, but has been sort of a 'goodie two shoes' until tonight."

Matt laughs, "Now that's the pot calling the kettle black! You are the biggest 'goodie two shoes' I've ever known. I bet you never got in trouble when you were younger."

I can see that Megs and Jim are going to be awhile and so I take up the challenge, "I'll take that bet Matt Combs! Let me tell you about the time when I was fourteen and killed Ken on Christmas day..." I almost laugh as I watch Matt's eye get big as saucers...

Jens – Story about killing Ken

Well another Christmas was over. I sat on the floor yet one more year surrounded by yucky dresses which I would never wear. If I wore these, I'd look like a miniature mom, not a cool and hip fourteen year old girl! I looked at the dresses and began to plan on how and when they would each reach their untimely demise.

That yucky yellow sun salutation dress would be perfect for a leaky ballpoint pen, even all the practice I'd given mom through the years removing stains wouldn't save that yellow banana!

Now the wretched red rosy predictions dress could be made a little cute and might just be wearable but something was going to have to happen to its hem so it would lose about half its length. I wondered if Daddy's power saw would work as scissors?

The gross green acoustic solo dress was a total waste but I could save some of the material for my ghillie suit; I wondered if mom would believe it got sucked into the garbage disposal while I was rinsing it out in the kitchen sink.

And finally the putrid pink 'raise the Barre' fake ballet dress! If I wore that I would look like pepto-dismal! OMG when would mom ever get over this pink and ballet thing of hers? It must be totally terminated with extreme prejudice - nothing short of a four alarm fire would suffice!

Yes, I was disappointed again this year, I really wanted a useful gift – you know, like a new pellet rifle to replace my dead Daisy Red Ryder lever action bb gun. I sniffed as I remembered the sad day early in December when I cocked the rifle and heard the nasty snapping sound. Then it wouldn't fire any more. Daddy looked at it and told me I had fired it so much I'd broken the 'main spring' and it just wasn't worth fixing.

But I still tried my best to save him! I worked on him almost my whole Christmas vacation. I carefully took him apart making sure to draw pictures of where each part went until I finally got to the main spring. I pulled it out and cried when I saw it was in two pieces. That night I was soooo upset that I went to bed without dinner and cried myself to sleep. Daddy was really nice and called Daisy, but they didn't have replacement parts anymore. So I reassembled him and reverently placed him in the corner of my room.

I still remembered when Daddy gave him to me: It was the second best day of my life (the first was when I met Ben) on Christmas day nine long years ago! I loved that bb gun, it had been a part of my life for-e-ver. We had gotten into s-o-o-o much trouble together...

Like the time I tried to shoot the nasty black grackle which liked to chase me when I played in the back yard. I missed and hit the window in the neighbor's bird feeder. It shattered and all the seed fell out on the ground. Oh boy was mom ever upset when the neighbor came over and yelled at her. Then I had to help him wash his cars for a week and lost my rifle privileges for a month...

Then there was the time I got caught shooting another neighbor's nasty cat. But hey I was just protecting Flappy our dog! That cat kept coming in our yard and attacking our dog so I waited all day in the tree until I saw it sneaking up on Flappy and shot it twice in the rear. It yowled and ran out of the yard while I laughed so hard I almost fell out of the tree. That is until mom and the neighbor with the nasty cat walked under the tree ... They had seen the whole thing! After emptying that nasty cat's litter box and brushing the nasty cat daily for a month I was certain I would never ever own a cat!

However my favorite game was 'pretend' war. I would get together with the neighborhood boys: We'd setup our green plastic army men and then take turns shooting at each other's men with our bb guns. The person that had the last man standing won, which most of the time was me because I practiced taking out multiple men with one shot. Things went well until the fateful day Ken got upset and shot me instead of my plastic army men. It hurt like holy heck, but I sure didn't cry about it. Instead, I shot him right back and then we all had a huge battle - which I won. 'Pretend' war was never the same and almost always ended up in an outright bb gun fight. After which the mothers of the neighborhood boys came over and complained that I'd shot their boy in the rear or the arm or the leg or the back! Hey it was a fair fight, they had bb guns too! They were just sore losers because I was sneakier and faster than they were. Okay, I do have to admit the time I was supposed to shoot the apple off Ken's head I purposely missed and shot him in the forehead. But he deserved it for trying to give me a kiss! The worst part was mom actually made me give him a kiss! That was G-R-O-S-S!

But those and the other incidents all happened when I was a little girl. I hadn't shot any boys with my bb gun since I discovered how much more fun it was to shoot them with a paintball gun! Especially one modified for cranked up power and using slightly frozen paintballs. Besides, it was mostly legal and most of the time they wore protection. But sometimes (if I was lucky and they weren't) they forgot to wear protection down there. Oh boy did they yell when that happened. However the nice thing about the bb gun was I could shoot it anywhere, while the paintball gun I could only use at the paintball arena.

Yes when my rifle died a little bit of me died with him...

I looked at the dresses and a few tears slipped down my cheeks...

Mom said, "Jennifer why are you so sad on Christmas day? Don't you like the beautiful dresses I bought you?"

I wiped my eyes, smiled at mom and lied, "Mom I was just crying because they are so beautiful. I'm tired and I think I will go up to my room and take a nap." I slowly walked up the stairs, entered my room, saw my bb gun in the corner, picked him up and hugged him while I crawled on the bed and fell asleep...

I woke some time later when Daddy softly shook my shoulders. He looked at me, smiled and said, "You really shouldn't lie to Evelyn about the dresses, but I know you just did it to keep her happy. I guess this wasn't much of a Christmas for you?"

I bravely smiled and said, "Daddy, I do appreciate all the thought mom puts into my gifts, but she really doesn't understand me or teenage girls today. I mean if the dresses were more like the ones the other girls wear, they wouldn't be bad. But if I wore those dresses to school all the other girls would tease me."

He smiled and said, "Yeah Jennifer, Evelyn is sort of stuck in the past but unfortunately she worries that if you wear the new styles people will think you're a slut. But that's not why I came up, I wanted you to come out to the workshop with me."

I replied, "I'll sneak right out and be with you Daddy, but first I need to go to the bathroom."

I watched Daddy as he left and knew we were probably going to the workshop to avoid mom. I felt a little guilty because I was sure she had yelled at him about the way I acted earlier with the dresses. Daddy and mom didn't fight much, at least not as much as the parents of my friends: But when they fought it was always about me. I decided that mom wasn't happy with her life (I sure as heck didn't know why!) and tried to relive her life through my life – she tried to mold me into what she really wanted to be.

It might have worked with most girls, but it would never work with me for two reasons: First I had inherited Daddy's personality – I was smart, stubborn and tenacious as a Marine bulldog; and second, I fell in love with Ben. Darn it! That reminds me of another reason I would miss my bb gun. I used to put pictures up of Ben's skanky ho girlfriends and shoot them; now I wouldn't be able to do that anymore.

I finished in the bathroom, put on my shoes, slipped down the stairs making sure to miss the ones that squeaked, peeked around the corner and saw mom was as usual on the phone! I quickly and quietly crossed the hallway and slipped outside - I was free again!

I ran to the workshop and flew inside! Daddy had the furnace running and it was nice, warm and felt more like home than the 'cold' house I'd just left. I ran up to Daddy, kissed him on the cheek and said, "Sorry if I got you in trouble again with mom."

He smiled at me and said, "That's okay my girl, I know how disappointed you were in the dresses. Thanks for not throwing a big fit like you did when you were younger." Daddy took a big drink of his beer and asked, "How about a soda and some chips?"