Blair was lying crossways over the bed, and her eyes were puffy. She clutched a tissue in her hand, and sniffled. He was at the door, looking beautiful, so much so that she wanted to run to him and wrap herself around him and hold him close. Instead, she turned her back toward him. The soft, shallow breathing of Ray was the only sound, until Todd spoke. "Sister Rebecca is going to stay with us, to remain hidden. Is that okay?"
She didn't turn to him. She just said, "Fine, Todd."
He knelt on the bed and crept behind her, putting his arms around her and kissing her ear. "Blair, don't be upset with me," he lay down, scooting closer to her. Soon, he was spooning her and cooing in her ear.
She pulled away. "I can't do this again, Todd. I can't."
"Do what?" he asked.
"Live without you. I just can't," she broke down completely, and he could feel her body shaking with her sobs. Her crying was quiet, but profuse. He held her tighter and shushed her.
"You won't live without me. I am not going anywhere."
"If you knew what I went through, Todd, when you died in Ireland, it's...I just can't bear it. We're just getting our lives back. We're finally together, really. This can't happen. Not again."
"Easy, babe. I'm right here, nothing's going to separate us. Nothing."
"I thought I'd die, Todd. I thought I'd die and if it weren't for Starr, I would have."
"You go with me, that's all. We both take the jet. You and I don't separate anymore. We are in this together."
She turned to him, "You mean it? I go with you?"
"Of course, where can I go without my one true babe? I'm not leaving you."
She turned and faced him completely, and they fell into a deep kiss. "I love you, Todd."
He said, "I love you, too. It's always been this way for me. No one else can hold my heart like you." They continued kissing each other and embracing. Finally, Todd stopped, and said, "Sister's down stairs."
"I suppose we should go and visit with her. She can stay, I have no problem with that."
"Let's go tell her."
Sister Rebecca Katherine was waiting in the living room. Todd and Blair saw that she was praying, and they entered the room carefully, allowing her to finish what she was doing. In a few moments, she looked up and said, "Thank ya for waiting. I was just telling the Lord that I wanted you both to be safe and not be mad at each other. Are ya?"
Blair said, "I wasn't mad at him, Sister. I just couldn't bear to lose him." Blair looked at Todd, who was standing, leaning against the railing at the bottom of the staircase, with his arms folded over his chest. He did this in a way that made his defined biceps more pronounced. Blair could not help but admire his appearance. Even though he saw himself as someone less than worthy at times, she found him to be godlike in her eyes. "He's...everything to me."
"Yes, well I can see that. And you, Mister, did you work things out?"
"Of course. I can't bear to lose her either."
Sister Rebecca said, "Now what if she just plain out didn't want you to go to Ireland? And what if she insisted? What would ya do?"
"Hire someone to do it for me."
"So ya wouldn't have done it, if she asked ya?"
"No. Not anymore."
Sister Rebecca Katherine looked at Blair, "It seems to me, lass, that he's really come home."
At this, Blair rushed to his arms and hugged him, becoming emotional at the nun's words. Standing in the penthouse, in the same places they stood when he did return from Ireland and appeared to her the first time, and all they endured after proved too much for her. He seemed to be similarly affected; he closed his arms around her back and closed his eyes, nuzzling her hair. Then, a few minutes after, Blair pulled away from him and looked at the sister. "He has. We've decided to go together."
"That sounds like a good compromise, my dears. Now, what else can I do?"
"You'll be staying here, Sister," Blair added. "It's the only safe place for you right now. It will help you stay out of sight and keep up the idea that you're kidnapped."
"That's very nice of ya, but I don't want to be a bother."
"You won't be," Todd added, there is plenty of room here. We'll let the boys bunk together for a bit and you can have Sam's room."
"Ah, yes, that little adorable boy that came through here earlier and said he loved you both. You're fortunate parents. But I must say, he doesn't look at thing like either of ya!"
Blair laughed, "He's not our natural son. He...oh my, how do I explain this one?"
"Just tell it like it is." The nun suggested.
Blair said, "Well, while Todd was gone, an impostor took his place. He came back to convince me and my daughter and son that he was Todd Manning. I fell for it..."
"And I can see by your face that you need to stop hating yourself for that, it's too much wasted time, dear."
Blair marveled at her perceptiveness. "I'm trying. It's very hard, knowing what he went through."
"And you're to blame because you didn't know? That seems a bit unfair, yes?" She said. Todd stood back and watched the conversation unfold. Sister was turning out to be Blair's Ray Martino.
"I suppose. Well, this man I was married to and believed to be Todd was kidnapped. Then, he was forced to have sex with the female captor."
Sister's eyes widened. "Forced? That seems extremely difficult to do, eh Todd?"
Todd was smirking a bit. "It wasn't me Sister, I can't tell ya."
She turned back to Blair, "So the little tyke is the result. He's a precious one."
"Blair's raised him most of his life," Todd said. "She's done a beautiful job with him." His pride was showing.
"And you've come to love the little boy, I can see that." The nun said to him.
"Yes, I have. It's not hard, really. He's quite an amazing kid."
"Accepted him as your own. Which makes you a step closer to Heaven, Mr. Manning. You both are doing the Lord's work."
They sent each other a glance, and then both smiled. "All right, enough of this, for today. Just remember that nothing can get in the way of your deep and abiding love for each other. It's written all over your faces and souls. Now, show me my room, I'd like to nap. When I wake up, though, we have one more thing to talk about."
***
Days passed. In a tiny apartment in Rialto, Timothy Broderick was readying to peruse his copy of The RA21 (Rialto against The Men of 21), underground newspaper, "Changes." He had been a member of The RA21 for years, reaching back to his time as a young adult living in the streets of Dublin. A vigilante group that outnumbered The Men of 21 by hundreds, Timothy had always been proud of his membership, and worked tirelessly for years to disband The Men of 21 terrorists. Unlike other terrorist groups, The Men of 21 had no particular political, religious or social aim. Their goal was to procure money, and a great deal of it, for their own selfish use. Their flagrant abuse of their power made his skin crawl. Still, even though they were great in number, The RA21 had only succeeded in compacting the group's enrollment, and making them less active for the last fifteen years. His goal was that they were abolished, not just slowing. And most of his reasoning came from the deaths of his parents and other sibling, Johnny, when they were in their twenties, just starting out with the movement.
When the paper arrived, he had gathered his typical reading gear; a highball glass of whiskey, his reading glasses, and a small bowl of peanuts. It was a simple yet pleasing ritual. He would update himself on the events of the group and then develop plans or ideas for what steps to take next. Of course, he was waiting on news from his sister in the states, so that he could find a place to be safe, since sources had told him that The Men of 21 were onto him as one of the leaders of his group. With the recent return of Hesser to the fold, Timothy's newest plan was to lie low, while constructing a new scheme, with the help of the American government, to bring them down once and for all. Carlo Hesser and his minions were all he needed to get U.S. support. And, just as he predicted, there would come a day where Hesser would return to active status. Timothy remembered the day he had heard about Hesser's return to Ireland. A surge of relief had gone through him; now American forces could not help but support his cause. As soon as Rebecca Katherine sent him the proper funds, he'd be on his way.
In opening the paper, he settled into his favorite chair in the warmly lit tiny abode he called home. Modestly furnished, he had always needed nothing more than the simple things, but his bar was well stocked. He turned the page, and saw it.
To the one who knows, your adored clergywoman is ours. Come
in person to determine how she will survive. Now.
In his horror, he spilled his whiskey onto his shirt. Wiping at it with a stray handkerchief, he reread the text, several times, to be certain he was not seeing things. And it was there, alone, isolated, in simple print, no adornment, among the other ads on the page.
His fear seemed to be controlling his motions as he threw the paper aside and got up to retrieve his coat and his pistol, and packing it into his waistband, grabbed the keys to the apartment so he could lock it upon his departure. He knew where to find them; that had been in the information he spent years digging up. He couldn't let them take his sister; she would be the last of his family that was not killed by their madness. He dropped them and bent to pick them up as he opened his door. When returning to standing, he saw a man and a woman, the former leaning against the door frame, with a relaxed, cocky look. American.
"Hey, Tim, what's up?" The man said. He was well dressed and had a scar on his cheek.
"Do I know you?"
"You do now. Your sister sent me. She's fine. Don't ask questions, just come with us. No time to waste getting you out of here before suspicion is aroused."
"My sister sent you?"
"Yep. Sister Rebecca Katherine. She said to tell you, 'Johnny's in a better place.'"
His eyes blurred, then regaining his strength, he said, "How do I know you're telling me the truth?"
"That would be obvious," a familiar Irish female said from behind Blair. "Now get your bottom in gear, lad, we don't have all day."
He peered out the door and saw who he recognized as his sister, disguised as a hot dog vendor from the street. Todd said, "Let's go."
The four of them exited the building, but not before Todd forced Timothy into his disguise, as Catholic priest. Sister, Todd, Blair and Father Timothy found their way safely to the rental car that was waiting for them. No one spoke, out of fear and caution, not even Sister Rebecca, as Todd drove and got them safely to the airport, where the boarded the private plane. Once on the plane, and having made it through customs with McBain's paperwork in hand, The Mannings and the Broderick Siblings could relax a bit. The first thing that happened was Timothy looking angrily to Rebecca. "Are you out of your mind, Creena? If anything happened to you, what would be left?"
The nun threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, "Quiet now, Broham, you're safe, aren't ya?"
Todd and Blair just sat, his arm around her shoulders, and she with her head tucked into the area between his broad shoulder and head. Blair whispered, "You never cease to amaze me, Mr. Manning."
He looked back, softly kissing her lips. Their eyes lingered on each others'.
"And who are these two?" he pointed to the couple.
"Those are my friends. You and Todd here have a lot in common. He was held by The Men of 21 for eight years."
Timothy's eyes widened. "You're protecting my gal, eh?"
"Yeah, I guess you could say that." Todd answered.
"Todd. A good strong Irish name."
"My real name is Thomas, but people call me Todd. Todd Manning." He put his hand out.
Timothy took it. "Pleased to meet ya, and your wife," he put his hand out to Blair, who took it and said, "Blair Manning."
"Nice to meet ya." he turned back to Rebecca Katherine. "You, I'm not happy with. You took an awful chance coming here. They sent me a message. I was on my way to turn myself in to them. Couldn't let them have the last of my family."
"I was safe. I trust them, The Mannings. They're good people."
The chatter from the two of them, in lilting brogues, put Todd and Blair into a quiet lull. She began dozing against his shoulder, and was aching for her baby. This was the first time she had been apart from him since he was born, and having left him with Addie, they had scrambled off in a hurry to rescue The Sister's brother, not really thinking the whole thing through. At a slight bout of turbulence, she woke up and started crying. "I miss Ray."
He put his arms around her and brought her closer, "It's okay, we're not far from home. You'll see him very soon. Why don't you nap some more?"
She closed her eyes, sniffing and holding in the last of the tears. "I'll try."
***
Back in Llanview, John was making the final arrangements for Steven Cregan's entrance into the WPP. In doing so, he had brought him up from the private holding area that he had him in for the last 48 hours. "Steven, sit down, please." John said. "I have almost everything ready for your departure. New identity and new home, new place."
"I guess I could start over. That might not be so bad. What about my mother?"
"You'll have to leave her behind. But it's better than her being killed by Hesser and his men. Believe me, you don't want to know what they are capable of." McBain's face had a look that Walnut, even though he'd only known him a short while, identified as disgust.
"All right. I'll have to make due, as long as I know for certain she's all right. Can I see her before I go?"
"I can arrange to bring her to the morgue. When she's there, we will pretend she's viewing your body. You can say goodbye to her there. In case she's being watched, for any reason, it will be the perfect cover."
He agreed, nodding.
McBain said, "Any questions for me?"
"Not about myself. I can do this. I've made a mess of the life here, may as well start over."
"Then what are your questions about?"
"Manning."
John's face must have shown the I-knew-it look. "All right. I'll try and answer what I can."
"When I gas lighted him...was I dressed as Carlo?"
"Yeah, the fedora, the suit, those were Carlo's favorite items in the past."
"And that shook him up because he was kidnapped."
"Sort of, yeah."
"What about that monk's robe? What was that about?"
John wanted to tread carefully, and for his own sake, wished to not relive any of the torment he witnessed at the compound in his last go 'round with Hesser. "One of his torturers."
Walnut swallowed. "And he didn't press charges."
"He knew you weren't the cause. He knew you were someone's pawn. I think he believed you when you said you had no idea what you were posing as."
"The lighter?"
"This isn't anything you couldn't read about yourself in the stories he's posted at The Sun. He was burned with one just like it as a child, by his adoptive father, and then, Hesser used it on him during the captivity."
Walnut did not speak. He just got up from his seat and walked away from John, pacing the room. After a few minutes he said, "Is that the worst of it?"
John said nothing, just shook his head 'no.'
"Then my mother is safer with me away from here, and everyone thinking I am dead."
"That's right. There's no other way, really, unless you want to face off with Hesser. Someday, when we catch him again, you can come back and see her."
"When you catch him again."
"Yes, and I will." John seemed resolved. "Can you tell me anything more about him, something else to help us?"
"I know he's in Ireland. I could tell by the background noises and the voice of someone in the background. I never let on that I knew he was there. "
John said, "We tracked him there, yes."
Walnut looked up at McBain before their journey to the morgue. "I can tell you one thing, he's got an obsession with destroying Todd. It was eerie sometimes, just listening to him. And on the flip side of that, it's been good knowing a man like you while I had the chance."
"Same here. You're not a bad guy, Steven. You're just looking for what we all are: a way to deal with what shit life gives you. Your ways weren't always the best, but in the end, you're helping put these men away. That makes up for it, I'd think, even for Todd Manning."
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