"Are you suggesting that we may be facing a major epidemic, rather like the Black Plague in Europe in the 14th century?"

He shrugs, crosses his legs. "It wouldn’t be entirely unexpected."

No, I bet it wouldn’t be to you. Man, I owe Henry an apology for thinking he was over-reacting to this guy.

"So, Professor, you believe some illness or plague or event will occur in the near future to reduce the human population significantly?"

"I would say it’s pretty much a given at this point." His words are spoken softly, with assurance. This is a man with a plan.

"Do you think there are people or organizations out there who are willing to ‘help’ this process along?"

"Again, from the beginning of time, there have always been Caretakers. I think it’s time for these gardeners to start pruning before the whole garden is lost. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my work." The professor stands up to his full height and smoothes out his jeans. He unclips the mike pack and sets it down on the chair.

Yeah, and we need to get the hell out of here and get some of that anthrax vaccine. Jesus. This is one scary son-of-a-bitch.

"Thank you so much for your time," Kelsey closes, the consummate professional. "If I have further questions, would you mind me calling on you again in the future?

As he walks through his front door, the professor answers, "What there is left of it, sure."


* * *

No, no, no, no, no.

I open my eyes and peer at the clock as the phone continues to ring. Six a.m. Say it isn’t so.

I try reaching for the phone, but somebody has both my arms neatly pinned to my body with her arm. How in the hell can she sleep through this phone ringing? "Harper, honey, let go. I need to get the phone."

She groans, and I manage to get my arm free and pick up the receiver.

"Stanton."

"Hey, Little Girl."

My foggy brain barely lets it register that it’s Henry on the phone and that he sounds a tad panicked. "Henry? What’s wrong?"

"The Professor bolted last night."

"What?" Oh, he has my full attention now. I squirm free of Harper and sit up against the headboard.

"We think he left late last night. He had an evening lecture at the university. After it, his GA says he went to his lab, collected some samples and left."

"Shit. Do we have any idea where he went?" Where would I go if I wanted to release the second Black Plague?

Harper grumbles next to me and starts to say something. I quickly place my hand over her mouth as I listen to Henry. Glancing down I find two very sleepy, annoyed, blue eyes looking back at me. I shake my head, but remove my hand, when she nods her understanding. She crawls quietly out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

"Are you absolutely sure?" I ask when I hear him say that he thinks Dale is headed for New York City.

"That’s what my contact at the university said. He told his GA that he was going up to do a presentation at the U.N."

"Henry, I hope your contact was right because millions of lives could be at stake." Jesus, the thought is incomprehensible.

"I know, Kelsey. You’ve got to stop him."

"We’ll do our best. See you soon, Henry."

"No, you won’t. Just remember I love ya too, Little Girl."

"I will. Good-bye, Henry."

"Good-bye, Kelsey."


* * *

"I don’t care what it takes!" Harper yells into the phone as she zips her jeans. "We need to be on the next damn plane to New York City! I don’t give a rat’s ass which airport we fly into, just pick one of them, for Christ’s sake!"

I’m packing us up so fast, I’m not sure I’m keeping all our stuff separate. If it weren’t so critical that we get to New York, it wouldn’t be so bad. This is most definitely a pack and dash. I hate it when a story goes like this.

Of course, I love it too, but that’s beside the point.

"Then get me a goddamned private plane, you moron!" she yells again, waving her hands, which is a dangerous thing because she’s holding the phone in one. I’ve had to duck twice to keep from getting hit.

Man, is she in her element.

I finish zipping the last suitcase when she slams the phone down. "Idiots!" She grumbles, grabbing for her boots.

"Are we…?"

"Yeah, we’re on the next flight out, but we have to hurry. Jims and Conrad are already downstairs with the car. You ready?"

"Oh yeah, we’re ready. We’re gonna have to sort things out in New York, but I figured, no big deal." I shoulder our carryons, she takes our bigger cases.

"Very true, our underwear are not strangers anymore." She winks at me. "Let’s hope there’s a New York to sort things out in."

I grab the door, holding it for her as we begin our mad dash. I love this job. And I love doing it with her.


* * *

We’re sitting in the New York field office for the Federal Bureau of Investigation waiting to see the agent in charge of counter-terrorism. I have an unedited videotape of Kels’ interview with the lesser Professor in my bag and I’ve sent Jims and Conrad over to the network to work on editing the master tape.

Kels is pacing the hallway, burning a groove into it, actually. She does not like the lackadaisical response to our presence. In point of fact, we’ve only been waiting fifteen minutes.

"Miss Stanton? Miss Kingsley? Could you come with me, please?" a secretary asks, stepping out of a nearby room.

Kels mutters, "Finally" and we follow the nonplussed secretary into the adjoining office.

Special Agent Kyle Donovan rises from behind his desk and extends his hand to both of us. After we do the meet and greet thing, we settle down in the chairs across from him. "So, tell me about what brings you here."

I open up my briefcase, pull out the portfolio of information we’ve gathered on Professor Dale Sams and slide it over to him. "We went down to San Antonio a few days ago based on a story lead provided to us …" And I tell him our story.


* * *

We leave the FBI with two important objectives accomplished: one, the FBI has taken us seriously and is launching an intensive search for the professor, and two, we got the exclusive. The second wasn’t really that hard. There is no way in hell they want this information to get out.

New York is already on full alert for the holiday season. Christmas is in two days and New Year’s Eve – and one point five million people in Time’s Square – is coming fast. With the nutso arrested in Seattle in the last couple days, security has increased, given the fact he had a plane ticket here.

Maybe there’s a convention of paranoid, psychotics being held in New York?

Well, other than the usual.

We’re heading over to the network to do background work for our story. Finding this guy shouldn’t be too big a problem for the FBI – he sticks out like a sore thumb even in Texas. We’ll need a full background on him for when we run our segment. And I want to find out if he has ties to any other Eco-terrorist organization. I doubt it. He seems like a lone gunslinger, but I don’t want to miss a connection.

And it’s always good to see what’s happening at the network level. Especially when my Little Roo has ambitions for bigger and better assignments. And, well, so do I. It’ll be good to stir the pot a bit while we’re here.


* * *

I smile as I wrap my arms around her pillow and crush it to my chest. It holds her scent, like the entire room holds the scent of our loving-making from earlier, before she went out to dinner with one of the high mucky-mucks from CBS.

Funny how after a short time I can miss her like this. Odd really. This is a unique sensation, to actually miss someone. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. Of course not, Harper, you have to know their names to miss them.

Since we checked in with the station, our cell phones and hotel room have been inundated with calls from the networks, ours and the others. And as we work on our story, we’re taking time to be courted. We’ve done some damn good work together these last few months – the library shooter, Omaha, and now this one. If we play our cards right, we’re poised for something big.

I have two or three lunches set up and I know Kels has at least one lunch and another dinner at some point. Of course, nothing says we have to make this move together.

I wonder if she plans on leaving me. Or if she even is considering doing this together. Just because we’re partnered up at KNBC doesn’t mean we would have to be anywhere else. She may just get a fabulous offer and take it and not even think twice about me. It’s not like we’ve made any promises to each other. Of any kind.

I’m surprised when the phone rings, shaking me out of my morose thoughts. I hope it’s Kels, slipping away long enough to call me. God, Harper, get a grip. Repeat after me: I am not in high school. "Hello?"

"Harper?" The male voice throws me a bit before I recognize it. It’s Erik. Great just what I didn’t need tonight. I can’t feel much worse right now, buddy, so lay off.

"Yeah. Sorry, Erik, Kels is out to dinner. I can have her give you a call when she comes in."

"That’d be great." He pauses, then clears his throat slightly. "Look, about the other day…"

"Ah, don’t sweat it." I want to be bitchy with him, but I know that would be so very, very bad. And it’s not like he doesn’t have a point. My track record sucks.

"No. I was a jackass and I’m sorry. I’m really protective of Kels and I …well, never mind. I only wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I acted. To be honest, I haven’t seen her this happy in years."

"Really?" I perk up. Now the conversation is getting interesting.

"Yeah, really." I can hear him settle back into a leather chair. Apparently, we’re going to chat. "Did she ever tell you our story?"

"No." Can’t say I’ve ever cared enough to ask.

"You interested?"

Ah, hell, I have nothing much better to do right now than miss Kelsey and get depressed about the future. Getting to know Kels’ best friend isn’t a bad thing. Still, "Are you sure you should?"

"Hey, it’s my story too." He lets out a little laugh.


I can tell by his nervous laugh that this is something very important to him. Thus, it’s important to Kels. "Sure, I’ve got the time, if you do."

"For you, I’ll make the time. I think you need to know."

Interesting. I settle into the bed and grip Kels’ pillow closer to my body as I listen to the voice on the other end of the line.

"I ran away from home when I was fifteen. My father drank too much and beat me, and my mother sold her body for drugs. I wanted to get away from it. I ended up in L.A. Big dreams for a stupid kid. You know the story."

"Un-huh." I have seen it one too many times, played out at some crime scene or the other.

"Well, true to form, I fell right into the Sunset Strip pit. Hooked and hooking. I didn’t give a damn who I sold my body to as long as I got enough for a fix."

"Jesus. I’m sorry, Erik." It never ceases to amaze me how adults are willing to fuck over kids for their own pleasure.

"One night this beautiful, young, blonde woman stops at a red light. I don’t know why, but I went over and gave her my pitch. Normally, I didn’t approach the real attractive ladies. They don’t need to pay for sex, you know. But, she just looked so … inviting. That’s not the right word. But, something drew me to her. I gave my speech and she told me to get in. That was another thing. I never would get into a buyer’s car. Kids who did very often died. But, something about her made me get in. She took me home and never let me go back to the Strip. She cleaned me up, and put me in rehab to clean me out. She held on to me for dear life. She saved my life."

"And she made you the centerpiece of her story on child porn and prostitution," I venture.

"Yeah, but under a different name since I was minor. The station paid for my rehab and a couple other incidentals. Look, I was happy to help with her story. And she did everything for me without expecting it."

"So, how old was Kels when you first met her?"

"Twenty-two. She was brand-spanking new in Los Angeles, a little cub reporter for KNBC. She wanted something juicy to start off with and she found me."

That makes Erik my age. I never would have thought. He seems so much older. So serious.

"She was living with a cop at the time. Although the station, of course, thought they were just roommates. CJ was a few years older than Kels and had been around the block a few times. She managed to get guardianship from my parents, her brother was a lawyer and he helped out. My parents were only too happy to be rid of me. CJ, and Kels, put me in school and kept me on the straight and narrow. Three years later, I graduated at the top of my class and entered UCLA on a scholarship."