by Ana Stone
Adrian was surprised that he wanted her as much as he did. He had expected to find that she no longer held appeal once she stopped running from him, but that had not happened. Instead, he found that he wanted her more than ever. He was unaccustomed to feeling that way about anyone. Up until now, people had been as disposable as any material item. Sydney was different. He could see spending the rest of his life with her by his side. It was an idea that pleased him. They would have everything and she would adore him and give him a son to whom he could pass on his fortune, his legacy.
Sydney turned from the window and looked up at him. He smiled and cupped her face in his hands. "Darling, I know this may seem a rather peculiar time to discuss this, but I simply can't wait any longer. I spoke to your father this past weekend and told him of my intentions and now I would like to declare those intentions to you."
A puzzled look took hold of her features and he smiled and kissed her. "I want you to marry me, Sydney."
"Marry you?" She looked at him in surprise.
"I love you," he said as he looked into her eyes. "More than I thought I could ever love anyone. I want you to be my wife."
Sydney blinked and stepped back. "I don't know what to say."
"That's the easy part," Adrian advanced on her. "Just say yes."
She did not say yes as he took her in his arms. But neither did she say no.
Wednesday, May 3
Alabama
Blake sat in the Sheriff's office in Huntsville with his head in his hands; elbows on the desk, staring in exasperation at the papers that lay in front of him.
Ray Watkins, the Sheriff; a tall, stocky man walked in. "Hell of a mess, ain't it, young fella?"
Blake looked up from reading. "That's a mild way of putting it."
Watkins chuckled, took a seat, lit a fat cigar and puffed furiously for a few seconds until he had the tip of the cigar glowing and smoking like a locomotive. "Well, that's how it goes. Win a few, lose a few and sometimes break even. Don't get your shorts in a wad over it. Hell, boy, the whole damn county's in a tail-spin over that Ohio thing. Anybody could've made the mistake you did."
"You want to put that in writing for the director of my division?" Blake asked.
Watkins laughed and shook his head. "Nope, like I my daddy always liked to say, shit don't stink near as bad if you don't stir it."
"Meaning?" Blake asked.
"Meaning this is your pile, young man. I got enough trouble of my own without taking on any of yours."
"Well, thanks for your help, Sheriff," Blake gathered up his papers and stood. "Sorry it was all for nothing."
Watkins shook Blake's hand enthusiastically. "Not for nothing. It was pretty exciting around here for a minute."
Blake just stared at him. He wouldn’t describe the fiasco they’d just gone through as exciting. In fact the only word he could find to adequately describe it was 'disaster.' He had no doubt that his superiors would be able to find a lot more colorful words.
"I'll be getting out of your way. Thanks again," he said and left the office. He walked outside and looked up at the clear sky. Better enjoy it while you can, he thought to himself as he started for the rental car. The storm's going to hit soon enough.
Blake stared the car and headed for the airport. There was no need to stay the night. The entire operation had been for nothing. The only thing that was going on at the Rogers' farm was an old man trying to hang on the only way he knew how.
Blake's team had apparently not dug deep enough or they would have discovered that the Rogers' farm had been sold to Adrian Zayne. It turned out that Rogers' son, Byron, worked for Zayne. As the elder Rogers told it, Zayne found out that they were in trouble and that the bank was about to foreclose and had offered to buy the farm and let them work it, giving Rogers fifty-percent of the profits each year to apply toward buying back the farm at no interest.
Needless to say, it made Blake, the agents from the Birmingham offices of the FBI and the ATF look like complete fools when they had raided the farm only to find out that the most dangerous thing going on there was Mrs. Rogers' white gravy and biscuits.
Blake knew Adrian had manipulated him. He had set everything up and Blake had fallen for it. Now all that was left to do was go back to Washington with pie on his face and try to explain it.
Washington, D.C.
It was the middle of the afternoon when Weasel and Jack Forrest arrived at Adrian Zayne's Maryland estate. Weasel gave their names to the attendant on duty at the gate, then waited as the man walked back inside the glass and stone enclosed cubicle to pick up the phone and call the main house. A few moments later the gate began to swing open and the man stepped outside to inform them they could enter.
"Well, we made it past the first obstacle," Weasel commented as he drove up the long, curving drive toward the house.
Jack sat rigidly in the seat, clutching an envelope in his hand. Inside was a court order allowing him to have his daughter committed for psychiatric observation. Getting it had not been easy. He'd had to call in a lot of favors and even then it had been touch and go for a while. Since Sydney was no a minor, nor financially dependent on Jack for her livelihood, it had required a bending of certain rules in order to get the judge to go along with him.
Weasel stopped the car in front of the house and got out as a valet approached the car. Jack stuffed the envelope in the inside breast pocket of his jacket then got out of the car and started up the steps with Weasel. They were greeted at the front door before either of them had a chance to ring the bell. Adrian Zayne opened the door, smiling and exuberant. "Senator Forrest, Mr. Armand! What a delightful surprise."
"I'd like to see my daughter," Jack said tensely, paying no attention to the man who walked out of the house behind Adrian.
"Of course," Adrian agreed. "She is waiting for you in the conservatory. Unfortunately, I will not be able to join you. I was just on my way out."
"Perhaps another time," Jack said impatiently. "May we go in?"
Adrian gestured toward the house with a smile. Jack walked inside without another word and Weasel followed him, giving Adrian and the man with him a curious look.
"I'm here to see my daughter." Jack said to the maid who was waiting inside.
"This way, please."
"Did that guy look familiar to you?" Weasel whispered to Jack as the maid led the way through the house. "I know I've seen him somewhere before but I can't place him."
Jack shook his head. "I don't care who he was. I just want to get my daughter out of here!"
Weasel didn’t press the issue, but it nagged at him. He knew he had seen that man somewhere. The maid stopped at the door to the conservatory. "May I offer you gentlemen something to drink?"
"No." Jack brushed past her.
"Thanks anyway, " Weasel said with a smile as he followed the Senator into the enormous, glass walled room that was filled with lush green plants and artfully designed natural settings of pools and waterfalls.
Sydney was sitting on a low stone bench in front of a well-stocked koi pond, picking petals from a long-stemmed white rose and letting them fall into the water. She looked up as Jack walked up behind her.
"Hello, Dad." Her voice was soft and calm, a stark contrast to the day before when she had been alternately emotionless and terrified.
"Sydney, honey," Jack sat down beside her. "I want you to go with me somewhere."
"Where?" she asked, turning her attention back to plucking the few remaining petals from the rose.
Jack glanced back at Weasel who walked over and knelt down beside Sydney. "Syd, I know it's been really rough for you the past few days and we're not trying to make it worse, but your dad and I both think you should be checked out to make sure everything's okay."
"You mean go to a hospital," she stated rather than asking. "You think I've lost it and made up all that about being abducted, don't you?"
"No." Weasel shook his head. "We believe you. That's why it's so important for you to go w
ith us. Syd, you're a doctor. You know that what you went through is enough to scar anyone, emotionally and mentally. Plus, you need to find out if there was any permanent physical damage done."
"I don't need a hospital," she said calmly. "I appreciate you worrying about me, GW, but I'm fine. I have everything I need and I don't−"
"Syd, try to think like a physician for a minute," Weasel interrupted. "If we could change places what would you recommend I do?"
She dropped the bare stem to the ground and looked at him. "You know what I'd do."
"Then as your friend I'm asking you to please use that advice for yourself," he pleaded. "Just let us take you to the hospital and once you've been checked out then we can take you home or−"
"I'd rather not," she refused.
"Then I have no choice," Jack spoke up and pulled the envelope from his pocket. "Sydney, I don't like doing this but you leave me no other choice. Either you come with us of your own accord or I'll call the police and have them come and take you. I have a signed order from the court that you be committed for a complete examination and psychological observation."
"You'd have me committed?" She turned to him in surprise. "My own father and you'd have me locked up just to get me away from Adrian?"
"It doesn't have anything to do with Adrian. Can't you understand that I'm worried about you? I just want to be sure that you're okay and if you won't be responsible enough to take the necessary steps then I will."
"Adrian won't allow you to take me," she said defiantly.
"He can't stop us." Jack tapped the envelope against his leg.
Sydney looked from her father to Weasel. "You'd really go along with this?"
"If it's the only way. So, what's it going to be?"
She looked away, staring at the fish in the clear pond for a long time then abruptly stood up. "Fine, let's get this over with."
Weasel started after her as she walked passed him but she stopped and looked back at him. "And when this is over, we're over too, understand? A friend would never betray me like this."
His mouth dropped open in surprise. In all the years he had known Sydney she had never acted like that. No matter what happened, he had always known that their friendship could survive anything. For her to suddenly turn on him told him clearer than anything that something was very wrong with her.
"If that's what you want," he agreed.
"It is." She turned away. "Now, let's get this over with. I want to be here when Adrian gets back. We have plans."
Thursday, May 4
Washington, D.C.
Jack Forrest stood as the doctor entered the waiting room. Weasel closed his laptop and rose as the doctor started speaking.
"Senator, I'm afraid that the news is not encouraging."
Weasel looked at Jack to see the color drain from his face. "Exactly what do you mean by not encouraging?" Jack asked shakily.
The doctor, a specialist brought in by the FBI to examine Sydney glanced briefly at Weasel. They were not strangers. Several years ago a case Weasel helped break involved several people who had been taken hostage. Doctor Harrell had been brought in on that case. That was when they had met. During the years since then they had stayed in touch.
"Let's have it," Weasel said quietly. "All of it."
"Very well. As you know, Senator, the staff physicians and psychiatrists suspected from the initial examination that your daughter had been subjected to both physical and psychological torture. That's why Mr. We'zel requested that I be brought in. I've had some experience with this type of thing."
"Just what are you getting at?" Jack's voice was not as strong and hearty as normal.
Doctor Harrell made himself more comfortable in his seat. "Let me explain. Your daughter has been subjected to what is commonly referred to as brainwashing or 'thought reform.' Essentially, even though methods and techniques vary, the end result desired is to force someone to change his or her beliefs, for example, to accept as true what they had previously believed to be false."
"And you think that's what's been done to Sydney?" Jack looked like he was going to be sick. "Can you tell what they did to her?"
"From what we have been able to determine thus far, it would seem someone followed a fairly standard procedure," the doctor replied. "You see, most brainwashing will begin by isolating the victim in a cell or room where they are starved, deprived of sleep, drugged and even tortured. This type of mental and physical torment will eventually cause most people to give up their own beliefs and accept the ideas and beliefs their persecutors want them to."
"She was put in a prison?" Jack shook his head in confusion. "Are you telling me that she was locked up somewhere and−"
"Actually," the doctor interrupted, "we are not sure exactly what happened. She has been less than willing to discuss much of what happened to her. All we’ve learned from questioning is that she was hurt by something electric and that there was apparently another woman there."
"So how do we get to the truth?" Weasel asked.
"Most victims will return to their own beliefs after a period of time," Doctor Harrell said. "However, that period of time varies dependent upon the techniques used and length of time the victim was imprisoned. It is my belief that our best course of action at this point is to try a form of regression therapy; to get her to remember what happened. If we can determine what was done to her it will give us a better idea of how to treat her."
Jack nodded. "So, do it."
"She seems less than agreeable to the suggestion, sir. And without either her or her husband's permission, I am hesitant to continue."
"Her husband?" Weasel blurted. "What does Evan Mallory have to do with anything? They've been divorced for . . . "
"I was referring to her present husband," Harrell cut in. "Mr. Adrian Zayne."
Weasel's mouth worked for a moment, opening and closing, with no sound emerging. "Zayne?" he finally managed to croak. "What makes you think she's married to Adrian Zayne?"
"She told me she and Mr. Zayne were married yesterday at his house in Maryland by a Judge Beckford."
"Beckford!" Weasel jumped up and looked at Jack. "That's who that was at the house! I knew I'd seen that guy before. Damn! He married her just minutes before we got there!"
"Can't you do the hypnosis anyway?" Jack asked. "I mean if she's been brainwashed then can't you just say she's unstable or something and . . ."
"I would need a reason to proceed," Harrell looked at Weasel pointedly.
Weasel blew out his breath and jammed his hands in his pockets, staring up at the ceiling for a few seconds. Then he turned to Harrell. "Okay, you need a reason, you've got one. Sydney Forrest was working as a civilian for Blake Edwards, Special Agent with the bureau. One of her patients came to her with information that ties Adrian Zayne with the bombing of the federal building in Akron, Ohio. She was our informant, trying to get information on Zayne to use in the case against him. If she's been brainwashed there's a good possibility that Zayne's behind it. His marrying her just hours before we arrived with the court order to have her admitted for observation suggests that he's trying to cover his tracks. After all, as her husband he has the final say if she' s incapable of making her own decisions. Add to the that the fact that as his wife she can refrain from testifying against him and you have one hell of a reason."
"I still need clearance," Harrell said. "From the agent in charge."
"That'd be Blake Edwards."
"Then get him here and we'll proceed." Harrell stood. "Until then all I can do is keep her here for observation. But only for another twenty-four hours."
Weasel nodded and picked up his computer, setting it inside the case and closing it. "I'll have him here no later than this afternoon."
Jack stood up as Weasel started out of the room. "GW?"
Weasel stopped and looked back. "What if she was telling the truth? What if it wasn't Adrian? What if it's really−"
"No way!" Weasel cut him off, not wanting him to voice in fron
t of Harrell the accusations Sydney had made against Blake. "Trust me on this one, Jack. I'll get Blake here and then we'll get the truth."
Jack nodded tiredly. "I hope you're right."
"I am," Weasel said confidently then turned and left the room. He had no doubt about Blake's innocence. He just hoped that after the fiasco in Alabama and the new information he had dug up he and Blake both did not end up looking the wrong direction through prison bars.
Blake walked into Doctor Harrell's office with Weasel. "Doctor Harrell, I'm Blake Edwards. I understand you needed to see me."
"Yes, Mr. Edwards," Harrell walked around his desk to shake Blake's hand. "Please, won't you have a seat?"
Blake and Weasel took seats as Harrell picked up a file from his desk and pulled a paper from it. "As I'm sure GW has explained, in order to proceed with the hypnosis session with Mrs. Zayne, I need official clearance. As the agent in charge this permission must come from you."
Blake was still reeling from the news that Sydney and Adrian Zayne were married. He felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach when Weasel told him and even now he had a dull ache in his midsection like his insides were twisted into a knot.
"Where do I sign?"
Doctor Harrell put the paper down on the desk and indicated where Blake's signature was required. Blake scrawled his name and stood. "I'd like to see Mrs. Zayne before you proceed, Doctor. There are a few questions I need to ask her."
"I'm not sure you'll get any answers."
"I still want to see her."
"Very well." Harrell put the signed paper back in the folder. "I'll take you to her."
"Mind if I tag along?" Weasel asked. "I haven't seen her since we brought her in."
Blake nodded and they followed Doctor Harrell to the elevator. They got off on the psychiatric floor and were led to a private room. Doctor Harrell stopped at the door. "She's been sedated so she may be a bit groggy for a while longer. Try not to upset her. I'll set up the session."
