Well, this wasn’t gonna be as easy as Terry thought. Whatever images Paul and the Guardians saw fit to send Michael in his dream were far more explosive than he was expecting. This was gonna take time. The man was shaken to the bone, nearly traumatized but again, Terry saw that as a tool, one of those tricks of the trade … simply check out for a while and let the information filter through until it makes sense. But how long was this gonna take?

Terry sat close to Michael, more than once gripped the catatonic man’s wrist. Pulse was strong, steady. He leaned his head back against the wall with a thud. His nose had stopped bleeding and he grinned, wondering how bloody twisted the thing must look. Little did he know, it was not broken even though it felt shattered, just swollen from the abuse. If he wasn’t too grotesque, maybe Patricia would see fit to give him a sweet, wet, warm welcome when he got back … if he got back.

His mind spun. He knew little about the men currently running what used to be his own company, understood that Dino was way too bloody old to get involved. Ah well, the intent was to get Michael and Henry home safe and sound and whole; to give him time to help Michael reclaim his soul. The fact that he was uninsured should mean nothing, just require a little tweaking of the standard procedures … but over the years, K&R crisis management styles had streamlined. With the influx of men like Average Joe Blow from Wheeling, West Virginia aware and willing to buy K&R insurance for his holiday in Cancun, it seemed the need for savvy practices like the ones that would be needed to negotiate Terry home in one piece, would have rationally fallen by the wayside. No worries. Terry knew where he was going if it all blew up in his face … back to his job … back to Sera … back to the responsibilities he was most suited for. A grin pulled at his lips. Home. The only one he really ever knew.

But thinking of Michael, his brow curled. When had he lost touch with the human soul as he did his job, ran a super efficient Elite Guardian department and protected Heaven’s interests? Suddenly a chill ran down his spine. Fuck all, where were their heads? No wonder he had to make the journey back to earth and confront Michael. With so much attention paid to the man’s successes, nothing was focused on the salvation of his soul … and of all the men and women on Terry’s department roster, the likes of Michael Cromwell were most in danger of losing their faith. Doing the work they did … even though endorsed by the most powerful and righteous secret organizations on earth and the most powerful and righteous organization in Heaven … they needed a little TLC to survive. When Terry lived, he was watched over by Sera and Paul … and at that moment, trapped in a filthy cell with Henry and Michael, he swore that it was Sera’s tender heart that had held him strong over all those earlier years.

Strong to do what, though? Terry wasn’t a spiritual or religious man, but he prayed and prayed often … in the trenches or holding a mike during negotiations. Playing the odds perhaps? Obviously he was able to hold strong to his sense of honor, human kindness, duty … all reinforced by an unknown soul mate far above. When Paul saw fit to place Sera on earth and in Terry’s hands, it was another all-new step for Heaven. Now … Michael was in Terry’s hands and he would not fail. He could not. After all, failure was not an option. It was never an option.

He groaned a sigh and turned to face Michael. Oddly, the man was facing him, his eyes clear, his face calm. “You ready to talk, mate?”

“I … I dunno, Terry.”

***

“What’s your strategic stand?” Dino had asked Fred Saunders and thus began a whole new exploration of the crisis at hand. Saunders was a soldier; he thought and talked like a soldier and as comforting as it was to Dino, it was extremely disconcerting to poor Patricia.

“Our stand is simple, sir,” Saunders cleared his throat. “We focus on International Risk Management’s responsibilities first and foremost. Bring everything we’ve got to the table for Cromwell and Henry and hold our cards close to the chest. The position regarding Mr. Thorne is nebulous at best, sir. Our standard practice is to … um …” he cautiously eyed Patricia, “steer clear of the subject when negotiating and –”

“And what?” she squealed. “Hope for the best?”

“Chill pretty lady,” Dino patted her knee under the table. “Let the man finish.”

“The uninsured captive … by design … will benefit when and if an extraction is successfully implemented. It’s policy, Ms. Walker. Not necessarily how we feel.”

“Dino, how are we going to fix this, mate?” Dale grunted, his eyes focused and clear on the old man, his expression that of understanding. After all, the old bugger always had something up his sleeve.

Dino grinned, leaned back and sipped green tea, scowled and pushed it away. Joe Daniels chuckled and went to the bar, bringing several glasses and a bottle of bourbon. He didn’t pour, just set it in the center of the table and the men grinned. Finally Dale answered Patricia’s unspoken question.

“For when we’ve solved it, love. A bit of … incentive, if you will. We’re ready, Dino. Tell us how to make this work.”

“Good boys … and girl. First question … just what the fuck do we know about this Terrence Thorne?”

“Nothing,” Saunders clacked away on his laptop. “We have our suspicions but we can’t find a bloody thing on this bloke.”

Dino looked to Dale. “The suspicions?”

Dale shrugged. “Deep cover, plastic surgery, the works. The man must have done everything to look and portray the dead Terry Thorne and I swear, it’s bloody freaky.”

“No shit,” Dino grinned. “I spoke to him at the funeral.”

“What was your take on him?” Joe scraped the bottom of his Chinese food carton with chopsticks.

“Oh … I know who he is and I know what he’s doing. But … that’s not gonna play well to help us. Now, I’m going to teach you all something that will work. Nothing could have fallen into place better for this situation, trust me.” Dino reached down into his brief case with a loud groan. Patricia helped him lift the laptop out and opened the lid while Dino smiled. “These fuckers get heavier and heavier every year, don’t they?” he teased then pulled up a document he had written on the flight; a document with not one word on it that came from his own imagination. It was as though the words poured from a dream right through his arthritic fingers. He sent the thing to everyone at the table in a blocked sharing system and waited until every head nodded. Here goes.

“First off, if we know nothing about Thorne. The kidnappers know nothing about him either. Right now, their minds are too ransom crazy to do any serious searching, and that’s to our full advantage. What you’ve got here is a fictitious past specifically designed for the man.”

“Dino,” groaned Dale. “We can’t use this. It’ll be too easily traced, mate.”

“Yeah, it would be … if it was plugged into our own records. Read through this fucker again before you say another thing, buddy.” The table went silent and as the men moved on for a second read, Patricia’s terrified eyes rose to meet Dino’s. He squeezed her hand and gave a wink. Trust me, that wink said and she sighed.

“What do ya plan to do with this?” Dale said quietly, his mind cranking with ideas.

Dino eyed everyone around him. “Let’s review first. This report states that Terrence Ira Thorne is a soldier of fortune. He’s an expert. He goes where the money is and often assists for hostage extractions. The report covers his military career and even lists a stint in prison for questionable activities. It covers everything from the moment of his birth up to a little over a year ago.”

“All fictitious?” Dale sipped tea.

“Every last word.”

Saunders shifted in his chair, obviously struggling to be patient. “And what are we supposed to do with this?”

“Simple,” Dino reached for the bourbon and poured two fingers in five glasses but did not pass them around. “I’ve got some high powered friends who owe me some big ass favors over at the CIA. They’ve agreed to post this report, along with the names of reputable interviewers and post-date it March of last year.”

“And …” repeated Saunders, less agitated, now his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “What are we supposed to do with this?”

“Nothing. Well,” Dino began sliding the libations toward those around him at the table. “Almost nothing. You and Daniels will head off to Prague, set up headquarters and follow through with the proposed negotiation contact schedule. When asked about Mr. Thorne, you follow procedure to the finest detail. You tell them he’s not insured with us and you know little about him … but, you do mention that your records show a CIA investigation, then … shut your trap. You know nothing else.” Dino laughed and the men around the table actually cheered.

“Wait! Wait, I don’t understand. How’s this going to help us get all three men out safely?” Patricia wanted to cry, she couldn’t see how it would work … there was no light at the end of the tunnel for Terry as far as she could decipher.

“Easy, honey,” Dino again patted her hand. “When we drop that tiny, seemingly insignificant tidbit, the kidnappers will rush to gather what they can. My contact at the CIA will make it available, but not too easily available. According to this report, Terry Thorne is a very important man, sweetheart. Not important to International Risk, but important to the United States. See that last line there? It states that Terry Thorne disappeared from sight and is still wanted for questioning.”

Dale continued, sliding the bourbon closer to Patricia’s fingers. “These kidnappers are greedy buggers, love. This indicates that the CIA has put a price on Thorne’s head and they pay well. Mr. O’Rourke has sufficiently given Terry Thorne value. Hell, maybe a bit too much value,” he laughed. “But we’re damn good and we can make this all work out to our advantage for Henry and Michael.”

“And …” Dino raised his glass. “I’ve done a little more. Because this is so efficiently made to look real … we’ve also got the CIA working on our side. They’re aware of the critical political situation in the Czech Republic and they’re offering assistance. Manpower, intelligence, the works. If I’m guessing right … the hostages will be home, safe and sound within the month.”

“The month?” Patricia gulped, fear streaking across her pale face.

“A month is good, love,” Dale and the others raised their glasses. “A month is real fuckin’ good. Bloody hell … here’s to you Dino! You’ve outdone yourself, mate!”

But before Dino sipped he slowly shook his head. “Nah, it was old man Thorne who pulled this off something like forty years ago. Here’s to him.”

“Old man Thorne,” all glasses rose and even Pat sipped smooth bourbon.

***

Tears again covered Michael’s face but he’d fallen silent, no sobs, no terror, just an emptiness that made Terry’s gut knot. What the fuck had they sent him? What kinda dreams could break this man into rubble? Or … maybe it was already too late?

Terry wanted to cry too, knowing the difficulties of Michael’s life, the dichotomy of it, the strangling impossibilities of it all. Was the man afraid of losing it? Afraid of who he’ll be after it’s gone? Or … maybe it was already too late and there was no faith to save?

“Do you pray, Michael?”

No response.

“’Cause I pray all the bloody time. Even walkin’ down the street.”

Stillness. More silence, not even the twitch of an eye.

“I know there was a time you prayed, Michael. I know because I’ve seen it.”

Finally, a glare. “You fucking know me a month. What the fuck do you know about me?” Michael bitterly hissed.