Discovery

by Douglas E Roff

  Misti paused, then said quietly, without the emotion, “Now it has.”

  Adam quickly absorbed every word and each phrase Misti uttered, understood every nuance of meaning, every implication of every new thing she had just revealed and the new meaning of every old fact he already thought he previously understood.

  He also knew every word she had uttered was true without needing anything more than that stark verbalization of what had just been said. The pieces of his stormy and troubled life began to fall into place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He felt the burden of his existence, so crushing as a child and young man, melt away in the calmness that this enlightenment had revealed to him.

  Adam circled Misty as a shark would circle its prey and Misti was aware of the change that had suddenly engulfed Adam. She waited, tense, to see what he would do, what he would say but he was strangely silent. She felt no fear but rather the immense anticipation of physical release.

  Adam turned his back to his woman and slowly walked toward the bedroom.

  “Come here.” Adam said over his shoulder, never turning and without breaking his stride.

  Misti hesitated.

  “I said, come here! Now! We have work to do.”

  Misti rose, adjusting her hair and robe in an almost absent-minded fashion, in a measured and purposeful way. Not because he commanded her; that was just theater. Theater she enjoyed and would learn to enjoy much more fully and completely as she learned to relinquish herself and her domineering control, to Adam, if only for the briefest of moments. He could not dominate her; that had long since disappeared as an option in her life. Misti was a predator, this she knew in her heart of hearts. She hoped she would never have to hurt Adam, hurt him in the way she had hurt others. But she could, and she would if she had to.

  This she also knew.

  She moved slowly, deliberately like a cat in Adam’s direction but only because she loved him. Adam stood quietly, patiently awaiting her approach. This wasn’t her old Adam but someone new, someone yet unknown and undiscovered.

  And she instantly loved this other Adam too, this creature she had just released, without reservation. She would obey him, if she could, in the full knowledge that he was the only man who could ever equal her in depth of depravity and be utterly unaffected by it. Perhaps, if she were lucky, even revel in it.

  This was all so new, so unseen and so unexpected. It changed everything and nothing, she concluded. But she now knew she would have a chance at being happier than she had ever thought possible.

  Misti thought quickly for a moment, then began to mentally stitch together the tiny parts and big pieces as she had always been taught by her mentor and benefactor, Edward St James. She had always loved and trusted Edward, the man her Papa, Carlos, had entrusted with the very soul of his little girl. So far so good. Mostly, anyway.

  When Misti graduated from college and began her graduate studies, Edward had gone to Carlos. He informed him of everything his little girl had done, studied and accomplished. She would be happy, in her own fashion, Edward promised. He had done everything he could to make this day a reality and then offered his help in providing the last piece, the one part remaining to be engineered into place for her.

  Adam.

  And now Misti knew, without any proof whatsoever, that Adam was hers as she believed he had always been.

  Misti stopped when she was at his side, stood on her toes, dropped her short silk robe and nuzzled his neck.

  “I’m not in the mood for ‘gentle’,” she purred.

  “Good. Then you won’t be disappointed.” Adam said.

  Chapter 54

  The next day, breakfast was late for two exhausted souls. Quite late in fact. It was much kater than normal into the afternoon when they rose, to be exact, since no phones had been allowed to ring, no faxes had sputtered out long missives and the pair had turned off their cells, computers and their myriad of other “devices”. Messages had been left, at some point, on each form of social, business and government communication via each phone, email, service, software, blog they knew they possessed.

  Then they informed I-5 Network, via Aurelia, that they wanted solitude: peace and quiet. The couple had things to discuss and they didn’t want any disturbance for any reason. Not even from Mom, Dad and Papa.

  They assured their people that everything between them was settled and back to normal, and that they would return to them holding hands like two teenagers in love very soon. Nothing was wrong, just a little mishap that got out of hand. And a little misunderstanding that had been corrected.

  The family, of course, anxious and wanted to believe them, especially Edward, who had received a frantic call from Peter Berg the evening following the scuffle.

  “I thought you had him under control Edward. What the fuck, man! He almost killed Jacoby. Might have if Benson hadn’t been there to stop it.”

  “From what I hear, Benson stopped nothing and both he and Jacoby are lucky to still be alive. I hope you’re going to follow past protocols and try them both for battery. And Jacoby for sexual misconduct.”

  “Try them? That’s rich. I have half a mind to get an arrest warrant for that psycho son of yours and his equally crazy bitch girlfriend.”

  “Now, now, Peter, just calm down. You’ve lost some perspective here or maybe your troops just aren’t giving you the straight scoop. Have they been on the polygraph with their tall tale yet? Doubtful.”

  Edward continued, “And FYI, buddy, this is all on tape. We keep it rolling just for special occasions like this. Comes in handy, wouldn’t you agree? Second, and I mean this with complete and utter sincerity and respect, you have equity with me old friend, and a lot. But not enough for you to ever, and I repeat ever, threaten me or this family again. Third, mind your tongue when it comes to Adam and Misti. I don’t think you want that confrontation with me now or ever in the future. Am I wrong, Peter?”

  “No, Edward, you are not wrong. Not now anyway. But you need to control him and if she’s of his ilk, you need to control her too. Whatever Jacoby deserved, he didn’t deserve that. I don’t care what’s on that tape of yours.”

  Edward continued, ever the protective father, “Jacoby assaulted Adam not the other way around. Misti asked him not once but twice to leave her home. He refused. You told Benson to get Jacoby off premises and he disobeyed your direct orders. Jacoby threw the first punch. Self-defense if you ask me. Or a jury. And what were they doing at Misti’s home anyway? Official business. If this comes up in any way, Benson, Jacoby and you will be out of the FBI, possibly in jail.

  Edward paused.

  “You’re moving them out? Away from Seattle?”

  “Not a chance, Edward. Not even for you.” Berg was really pissed and would have liked to have seen Adam St. James in custody. What Berg read in a confidential NSA file suggested that Adam wasn’t in his right mind. The NSA profiler suggested that sporadic events might result in serious death or injury to those encountering him aggressively. He was not dangerous unless provoked, but he needed to be watched carefully is he continued as an asset. And so, should his father. Both were dangerous; both had crossed the line on more than one occasion.

  “Then let me share something with you. It is my opinion that Special Agent Jacoby went to that home to sexually assault Misti Alarcon. I further believe that Special Agent Benson was aware of this plan and agreed to assist Special Agent Jacoby in bringing this plan to fruition. I further believe that he has done this before and that you are aware of his previous misconduct. How am I doing, Peter?”

  “There’s nothing in his record…”

  “Bullshit, Peter. Stop lying to me right now while I still have some respect for you. You’ve always been a stand-up guy with me, so let’s not ruin that now. Jacoby has a long and troubled history beginning with his military service, his work in civilian intelligence and now at the FBI.”

  Berg responded, his tone hostile. “His military and other service have
been exemplary. So, no Edward, I don’t have anything which contradicts that. You’re wrong and that’s as far as we’re going here. Do you understand?”

  “Let me send you a little file I pulled out last night. You may find some parts interesting, others less so. But I can assure you that it is accurate. It details the complaints, by no less than seventeen women, regarding your very special, Special Agent. In each case, no action was ever taken, even for the most egregious cases involving multiple counts of aggravated rape. There’s some pretty rough stuff here, but I’m sure if you read just one case history, you’ll get the whole nasty picture.

  “So, in each of the seventeen cases there were two columns of commentary. Column one was what happened with some rather startling comments from Jacoby’s various line commanders and supervisors. The second column contains the fiction that was to be entered into his service record. You with me so far?”

  “So far. So, what?” Berg was unfazed; Edward was a notorious liar and this was well known to the FBI.

  “You guys in government, from local cops right up to the Secret Service in the White House, you live in this rarified atmosphere that you seem to think that we, in the public, are required to believe every piece of shit and fabrication covering your own criminality you shovel our way. You then make laws to justify your worst behavior, often in secret, promise to keep accurate records because we, the public, have a right to know. Then you proceed to lie and falsify your way to whatever foolishness you think is justified. Worst, you get away with it because the law has been twisted and perverted not into a shield protecting the public but into a weapon to target ordinary citizens and suppress innocent voices. When does this stop, Peter?"

  “That’s a nice story and a great lecture but it changes nothing. And if I wanted to, I could report this conversation up the line. There are probably more than a few higher ups who would like to know how you got that info. Sounds classified to me, assuming any of it is true.”

  “Go ahead, Peter make the call. I’m sure one of your superiors is on speed dial. Know who’s on mine? Your boss, the Deputy Director and the Director himself, as well as the President of these fucking United States. And I’m telling you they know. They already know because I’ve told them what is coming their way.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “As we speak Peter, as we speak. One last warning, Peter, then we’re done for now and certainly for the rest of your miserable career. If you ever and I mean ever in any way, attempt to harm, threaten to harm or in fact harm any member of my family wherever located, or anyone I love, I will come for you myself. I will hurt you and everyone in your life in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.”

  Edward continued, “I know everything about you Peter Berg, about your lovely wife, your growing kids, your dogs and even that fucking parrot.

  “If you ever fuck with me again like this, I will fucking kill you. Then I’ll have a nice meal with that bottle of Merlot I keep hidden in the basement. After that I will spend some much-needed time with my adorable granddaughters. That’s a promise.”

  Silence.

  “Now, go run off and tell your supervisors and play them your tape of our little chat.”

  Peter wouldn’t do that because he couldn’t do that. His recording, it turns out, was garbled and full of static. A probable glitch in the system. He’d put a tech on it right away but that tech would find nothing wrong.

  A week later, Peter Berg put in for a transfer out of the Seattle field office. He was relocated to the El Paso field office, attached to the Drug Unit.

  Special Agent Parker Jacoby left the FBI and joined a security firm based in Dallas, Texas. He requested and received assignments out of country. He was found dead, his throat cut side to side, in an exclusive high-rise luxury hotel in Dubai while he was enjoying some much-needed R&R from field work. Certain details from the autopsy had been redacted from the file as unnecessary information to give to his family back home.

  The woman he had been seen with hadn’t been identified, though the somewhat blurred photos of her leaving the hotel lobby on the night of the tragedy were still on file with both the CIA and FBI. Both organizations maintain that while the crime remains unsolved, the investigation is still ongoing and active.

  Special Agent Phil Benson left the FBI and rejoined his old Army unit on active duty in the Middle East. It was Benson, on leave, who found Jacoby in his room in Dubai, getting hotel security to open Jacoby’s guest room door. Jacoby had failed to show up for drinks in the lobby or answer his phone. He had left Benson a message that he wanted to discuss payback for the St. James ass wipe and his slut girlfriend. Would Benson mind coming to visit him in Dubai for a chat on how and when to take care of that old business?

  ***

  Cindy Suarez arrived home late one Sunday night, having caught an afteternoon in New York bound for Vancouver. That flight had been preceded by another long flight from London. Normally, Cindy would never have flown alone or been away for that long, at least not without Rod. This was an exception and a very special one that Edward had asked as a favor.

  Cindy then took a charter float plane from Vancouver Harbor directly to Barrows Bay and the small dock constructed for just such an occasion. Rod and her girls as well as Cindy’s parents were there to greet her, along with Misti and Adam. So was Edward, dressed like an old professor and just as charming.

  As Cindy came up the gangway, he shouted “So, how was Dubai?”

  “Hot as hell. That place is murder.”

  Chapter 55

  “I’m really not sure what you’re saying to me here, Adam? You can’t be serious. Why can’t we just be ourselves, these selves, the ones we now know and have shown to one another? You said we can finally be with each other – no fear, no hiding and no shame. You said that to me and you promised. You promised, Adam.”

  Misti continued, pleading with new Adam, but in an older more conciliatory tone she had learned to use with her “others.” “You said it yourself, sweetie – it all makes sense to you now, it all fits into place then … why do we …”

  Adam interrupted his lover and partner in all that would become of his life. He was excited and focused, with a clarity of mind and purpose he had long anticipated, but which had not, until now, been revealed. It was like the answer to cold fusion or the meaning of life. It was intoxicating.

  “Because for us to earn the right to be ourselves, we must first appear to be like them. Exactly like them. To hide in plain sight. Don’t you see?” said Adam. If he were six years old again, he probably would have giggled like a little kid with glee. He was just that pleased with his new insights.

  They’re still in bed lounging, with Adam feeling like he had more energy than at any other time in his life. He felt liberated and a little cocky. Misti was slightly annoyed with this obtuse Adam but her new guy was disinclined to stop what he was doing and thinking. For whatever reason, something new and fascinating was now firmly lodging or had lodged in his skull.

  He certainly had more emotional clarity, she thought. And version 2.0 was a clear improvement over a less decisive, albeit somewhat more romantic version 1.0. She’d have to mention to him that not all change was for the best. Misti still craved mush, just not fawning, clingy, sappy mush. She wanted Adam to desire her as deeply and insanely as she desired him. But desire wasn’t just sex. It was something more. It was something bigger and more intense; something organic and rare.

  What she desired was for him to want her urgently, need her constantly and to be unashamed as a male of the species to admit he never wanted to be apart from her. She wanted a “whipped” version of Adam St. James but without him actually being “whipped”. She wanted a thoughtful, considerate Adam, who knew all the tiny ways to make her happy and feel appreciated.

  “I’m not sure I follow you,” said Misti.

  “Just give me a second,” he said. “All I’m saying is that what we decided last night was the what, not the how of our
new life. There’s so much more for us to consider. That’s all. We can do so much more, be so much more if we each act like one of them. Surely you see that?”

  Adam rolled over on his back, looking up at a ceiling covered with little dancers and other stick figures in positions the Church would not properly have approved. “Never noticed the dancing girls before. Your touch?” he asked, as he continued refocusing his mind on the present and his very delicious girlfriend.

  “Who else?” Misti was now up on all fours looking over him, having decoupled herself from his side, trying in vain to understand his point. He reached his head up to give his lover a kiss. She read love and total satisfaction in his eyes. She read something else, too, but didn’t yet understand its full significance. This was the part she would need to experience in greater detail and understand more fully before finally deciding how to be with her new and exciting Adam. And she would need to uncover if and how he could ever again be channeled. But she would never again drive him away, leave him or doubt him as she had, even if only ever so briefly. Her less-than-twenty-four-hours of insanity

  And, she decided, she would try hard to follow his lead, at least in matters pertaining to the big project - their life together. She trusted Adam completely and understood without necessity of discussion that he, Adam, would always keep her safety and security foremost in his mind and heart. They would discuss and fight, argue and make up, always with the brutal honesty and precision of thought that their condition allowed. Then they would disagree no more and move on to something else.

  But there would be no residual anger or nights sleeping apart. Never. Never again. She now knew what that felt like and it was awful.

  She would love him, and deeply, and she would be with him in every way in which he would ever need her; best friend, lover, wife, co-conspirator and confidant. Most of the time she expected happiness in her daily life with him, just not the movie variety with all its romantic bliss. What she wanted, she thought, was something different and more fulfilling; far more edgy and infinitely more practical.