Stretching his short, pudgy legs out in front of him,
Young George leaned back against the cool stone wall of the cubbyhole. He glanced at the
old analog watch on his right wrist. Gusting a sigh, he thought, Only three hours left then I am finished
with my first sentry duty. He anticipated finding Old George and finishing the backgammon
game they had started just before it was time for him to report for his shift. He
smiled as he thought of Old George and the influence the older man wielded in his life. At
the age of thirteen, on the run from a street gang, he had been found by the old man, wandering hungry and
lost in the uninhabited upper tunnels. He was combative, unwilling to follow the rules or to
go to school. There was a randomly used custom in the tunnel family where, if it was felt necessary,
a child would be assigned a mentor or a substitute parent. Old George was both to him.
He had been so unruly and uncooperative that no one offered to mentor him until the older man stepped
forward and took him under his wing. With a lot of tough love, his mentor had shown him what
a joy it was to learn, to work cooperatively with others, to play fair, and to love
unconditionally. He remembered the first time he had called Old George, Dad; how easily it had come
to his tongue; and the joy that had shone
in his mentor’s eyes when he heard it. At eighteen,
the younger man was taking on the role of a mature adult that mirrored that of his beloved tunnel
father.
The sound of approaching footsteps brought his thought’s back to what he was doing. Dad would be disappointed in him for his daydreaming during his first watch. But, darn it, he was proud of Old George and himself. He had come a long way thanks to his father.
He grinned when he saw who it was. Watching her stride past his post, he thought, “Vincent’s Catherine,” as Mouse would say. She waggled her fingers at him, acknowledging him, confidently marching toward the central chambers. It had been many weeks since she needed a guide. She came Below as often as Vincent went Above. Y.G.--as the younger members of the community called him--admired her; she was quite a lady. Always uniformly kind and generous with everyone; he was glad that Vincent had met her.
****************
Catherine stopped in Vincent’s chamber and finding it empty went to Father’s chamber. Bouncing down the three steps, she called out, “Father?”
“Ah, Catherine, it’s good to see you,” he said, smiling slightly.
It still amazed her that he was so pleasant with her after his initial reaction to her first trip Below. Jacob’s thoughts were running parallel to hers as he thought of their first meeting. He had been cold and distant and had railed and shouted at his recalcitrant son. Catherine had felt Vincent’s tension although he seemed outwardly calm.
Finally, he exploded, “Enough! You will not speak to Catherine or me in this manner and regardless of what you believe, Father, I am a grown man. I will decide what I do.”
Jacob Wells stared in shock at his son. Then he became even angrier. It was her fault. Vincent had become totally unmanageable since he had met her. She must be influencing him for Vincent to speak like this to his own father. It was unthinkable.
Before he could open his mouth, Vincent nailed him with an angry glare. “Say nothing more, Father. Do you wish to force me to choose between you two? Do you really want a confrontation? Think carefully before you say anything more.” During this speech Vincent had pulled Catherine close to him which the irate man did not fail to notice. He gazed furiously into the angry eyes of his son and the compassionate--What? Not triumphant?--and shocked eyes of the woman he resented. She wasn’t gloating? Perhaps, he was wrong about her. Father decided quickly to back down and to find out just what kind of woman this was that Vincent loved so deeply. And he had to face it, Vincent was in love. The poor woman looked to be frightened out of her wits. Frightened of me? But I’m not an ogre although I must admit I’ve been acting like one. All right, Jacob, calm down, take a deep breath, and be gracious. If you don’t, you just might lose your son.
The sudden about face was almost as confusing as the anger
had been frightening. It seemed as if
Jacob Wells mentally shook himself and became a different
man. He turned on the charm. “Forgive me, my dear. Your appearance was so unexpected
that it temporarily unbalanced me.”
Catherine could feel the tension drain away as Vincent loosened his crushing grip on her hand. She smiled tremulously at the suddenly amicable man--accepting the unspoken temporary truce-- and took a shaky breath. “Thank you, Father, I never meant to upset you and I’m sure Vincent didn’t either.” Silently, Vincent shook his head no.
“Well, good. Shall we have tea and get to know one another?” Gallantly, the tunnel patriarch handed her into his chamber.
The rest of the evening had been spent in friendly discourse and he had even talked her into a game of chess which she promptly lost.
Today as they sat huddled over the chessboard his thoughts were of a different nature. Although he had yet to completely accept her place in Vincent’s life, he had come to enjoy her company and truly liked her. He simply could not see anything but a tragic ending to heir love. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to beat you,” Catherine complained as she tipped over her queen in defeat.
“You are much better than you once were, my dear.
You haven’t had much practice, that’s all,”
the winner commented just barely hiding the hint of smugness
in his voice.
“What are you doing, Catherine, stroking Father’s ego?” Vincent ambled up beside her, dropping a loving hand on each of her shoulders.
Laughing, she leaned her head back to gaze up at him, “If losing a chess game to him is stroking his ego than I plead guilty.”
“Now just a darn minute there,” Father said in mock indignation. “How can you say that? You know I’m the soul of modesty,” he objected as he modestly laid a humble hand over his heart. A big sly smile broke out on his face and he leaned back in his chair.
“Catherine, would you like to go for a walk. It is getting rather deep in here,” Vincent asked drolly.
“Why, Vincent Wells, I’ve never heard you talk that way before.” She gazed at him in shocked amusement.
“Just because I do not use the language does not mean I have never heard it,” he replied with a satisfied smirk, “and it seemed appropriate at this time.”
“Go along, you two. I don’t want you to get stuck in the--ahem--*modesty* that is so deep in here.” With an expansive wave of his hand, Father shooed them on their way.
Shaking her head and chuckling to herself, Catherine took Vincent’s larger hand and followed him into the corridor.
****************
There was something on Catherine’s mind. Vincent could sense that she was troubled but not what is was about. Silently, they strolled through the dimly lit tunnels--as in the world above the light was tempered at night. Occasionally, one would break the silence with a thought or a comment.
“What is it, Catherine? What is troubling you?” he finally had to ask.
“Well, since I’ve joined the D.A.’s office, I’ve been wanting to reopen my father’s case,” she confessed.
“Are you sure that you should? You could become too involved. After all, it is your father’s murder you would be investigating. It could become dangerous.”
“I know that, but I have to do something. It’s been about eight months and the case is stalled and doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. I’ve got to try. Trust me, Vincent, if it gets too dangerous I will back off.”
“I always trust you but I know you, Catherine. You can get too involved in your cases and put yourself in danger.”
“I won’t this time. I promise.” She meant to keep that promise but circumstances took the matter out of her hands.
****************
The next morning Catherine put her proposal before Joe. His immediate reaction was in the negative as she had anticipated. She rallied all her professional skills and set about to change his mind.
“I know all the arguments against me being involved in this case but, Joe, he was my father and this case is going nowhere.” She settled back into the leather couch in front of his desk prepared to do battle. “Since I’ve been here, I have developed some pretty reliable contacts on the street and I can go at this from a different angle.”
“Yeah, in the eight months you’ve been here, you’ve come up with clues and witnesses when no one else can. I don’t know how you do it.” She had proven him wrong repeatedly; she was no little rich girl out on a lark. He knew her well enough by now to know that she would eventually get her way, regardless of how he felt.
Ignoring the question he had implied, she continued, “Also, I’m my father’s daughter and know how he thought. There’s something going on out there that we don’t know enough about and somehow my Dad got caught up in it. He never did an illegal thing in his life and I think he found himself involved in something illegal and was about to do something about it.”
“Yeah, I’ve had a funny feeling lately myself. Too many of the guilty are going free. The Aloisio file we got from your father wasn’t much help, was it?”
“No. He was killed before he could be questioned and all the leads petered out. I want to get Edie in on this. She can ferret out clues on the computer better than any I know.”
“Ok, but she’s got to agree to it. This can be a really dangerous case, Radcliffe. If . . . if I do let you do this, you’ve got to promise me not to take any unnecessary chances, ok?” The worry lines around his eyes increased as he stared intently at her.
Catherine bounded off the couch and hugged him enthusiastically. “Thanks, Joe. I’ll keep you informed on everything I do, but I think we should keep this strictly between you, me, and Edie. Don’t mention this to anyone, not even Moreno.” She gave him a glittering smile and was out the door before he could change his mind. He slowly shook his head thinking, Hope she doesn’t get in too much trouble.
Catherine buttonholed Edie as she passed her at her computer. “I need to talk to you,” she said, hauling a startled Edie out of her chair and guiding her to the conference room.
“Gees, Cathy, why can’t we talk at my desk?” she complained.
“Because, my smart computer friend, this must be done in secret.” Catherine closed the door of the conference room behind her and motioned Edie to a chair. Sitting down beside her, she explained what she wanted the young black woman to do.
“That can become pretty involved, girlfriend. How dangerous is this?”
“If we keep it between you, me and Joe, we should be pretty safe.”
“No, 100% guarantee, huh?”
“Afraid not. If you want out, just say so. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”
Edie pushed back from the table with a grunt, “Well, I guess I better get going.”
“Thanks anyway, Edie, I understand.” Catherine hadn’t expected this; she wilted.
“What’s to understand? I’m going to get busy with what you’ve given me.” She grinned a big toothy grin at her elated friend.
Shaking a well-manicured finger at the smugly grinning Edie, Catherine said, “One of these days, I swear, one of these days.”
“One of these days what? Take me out to a real fancy place for lunch?” Her laugh floated back as she left the room.
“You’re on, Edie. If anyone can find out what I need, it will be you.” Catherine sat slumped in her chair for a few minutes before she straightened up with determination and returned to her desk.
______________________________________________________________________________
On a cold, wet, rainy day in October there was another meeting in Lucifer’s office concerning one more Chandler. “This Chandler woman is getting too close,” Lucifer stated. “Is there any way we can get her to stop without killing her?”
“We could try threatening her,” Uriel offered. Only four men sat in Lucifer’s office, Uriel, Gabriel, Michael, and Lucifer. Gabriel had concluded his assignment; Aloisio was dead and in a most satisfying manner. He would serve as an example to any who wanted to buck the syndicate. Gabriel was very satisfied with himself, and while Lucifer had not been lavish in his praise, he had at least complimented him on a deed well done. Gabriel decided to let Michael and Uriel handle the Chandler woman. Some instinct warned him to stay away from her.
“No, that won’t work. She’d never cave-in to threats,” Michael said.
“Let’s bring her here and make her an offer she can’t refuse.” It was impossible for Uriel to imagine that anyone could refuse the right amount of money. In his experience, anyone could be bought. Gabriel stared into space. What a wasted effort that would be.
Lucifer agreed, “I don’t think it’s wise to have her killed or disappear so soon after her father. But, if she doesn’t cooperate, we’ll have no other choice than to get rid of her. It was your idea, Uriel. See to it.”
****************.
It was ridiculously easy to snatch Catherine Chandler. The cloudburst that had begun at daybreak had continued all day, and when she left work that evening, she stepped to the curb under an umbrella to wave down a cab. The umbrella made it difficult for her to see what was happening around her. Suddenly Raphael stepped up beside her and hustled her into the cab that pulled immediately to the curb--the owner of the cab was deeply in debt to Lucifer--leaving her umbrella dancing in the gutter. Catherine struggled until the white haired man showed her his gun, then he blindfolded her, and took her from the cab into the back of the office building. He was slightly put out at this assignment; he felt it was beneath him to snatch a woman. Once in the empty outer office--all the office personnel had been sent home--he had waited to deliver her to Lucifer, then left still a little miffed.
So, here she stood in front of Lucifer’s huge cherry wood desk. Only Michael, Ramiel, and Uriel were in attendance. Gabriel had begged off, saying he had pressing business to attend to. With a revolver pressed into the small of her back, Uriel stood behind her while the others lounged in comfortably upholstered matching cherry wood chairs.
Not at all intimidated, she glared at the wizened old man sitting ramrod straight behind the desk.
He grimaced what was meant to be a smile and said, “I admire you, Ms. Chandler. If I didn’t, you would be dead already.”
“What do you want from me?” She stared at him defiantly.
“As I said,” he replied, his voice soft and deadly, “I admire you. I am going to make a one time offer. Join us. I hate to see the waste of good talent.”
Her eyes widened and she laughed mirthlessly. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Slowly he shook his head never taking his little beady eyes off her.
“And if I don’t?”
He spread his hands and shrugged.
“Sorry . . . Lucifer, is it? I could never sink that low.”
“Too bad,” he murmured and waved at Uriel. “Get her out of here and finish it.”
As soon as Vincent had felt the first jolt of fear race through Catherine, he was running flat out through the tunnels. He followed his sense of her to the basement entrance of a building he knew well. Many were the nights that he had spent on the roof of this building, gazing at the stars and the tiny, moving lights below him. He rode on top of the elevator car to the floor where Catherine was being held. After climbing down through the roof, he cautiously exited the car. The smell of men’s aftershave assaulted his nose, and from the mix, he knew there were two men in the room he had entered. Sweeping the room with his glittering eyes, he found them standing before the tinted windows. Silently he rushed them and before they could utter a sound they were lying on the floor. Now he sped to the closed fortified doors. She was still alive and she was ready to fight.
Catherine poised to fight back. She could feel that Vincent was almost there, and she would fight beside him. Uriel grabbed for her arm. Unexpectedly, she spun around, taking him by surprise. His fatal mistake, assuming a woman wouldn’t fight back. She drove the three-inch stiletto heel of her right shoe in the surprised assassin’s left instep as Vincent burst through the fortress like office door. Michael and Ramiel had risen from their chairs and were pulling out their guns as an angel of death cuffed Michael, sending him crashing into the glass wall, his head compacting wetly with the steel struts between the glass panes. Staring in awe and dread at the apparition advancing on him, Ramiel raised a shaking gun, trying to make his paralyzed finger pull the trigger. Vincent picked him up and shook him like a rag doll then threw him away. There was a satisfying crack as his spine impacted the edge of Lucifer’s desk, and he fell to the floor in a lifeless bundle of expensive cloth. Vincent whirled around searching for Catherine. Breathing hard, she was standing over the unmoving body of a small, plump man.
While he had been destroying Lucifer’s men, Catherine,
a black anger boiling up in her, had used
the maneuvers that Isaac had taught her and was in a
struggle with Uriel. A well-timed blow with the heel of her right hand to the end of his nose
drove the nasal cartilage into his brain and the bald, rotund man dropped to the floor. Stooping,
she took the revolver from the Uriel’s lifeless fingers. She turned and locked eyes with
Vincent; something passed between them.
As one Catherine and Vincent turned toward the immobilized man behind the desk. At this time the dark sides of the two lovers were united in one blazing fire. Like predators cornering their prey, they advanced on him with catlike grace. His gun lay forgotten in the desk drawer. He could think of nothing but the two advancing beings coming around each end of his desk. Lucifer had become soft and complacent in his isolation; he thought he was safe from all harm. Frantically, he repeatedly punched the call button for his guards.
“They are all dead,” a merciless voice hissed.
Looking from one to the other, Lucifer locked eyes with the red black orbs of the leonine being. He was frightening enough but the woman--oh god, the woman--she was a lioness, and the feral light in her green eyes froze him to his chair. At various times in his life, he had dreamed of a woman who would kill him. His worst nightmare stared unflinchingly at him. Nothing in life had prepared him for the death he saw in her eyes. He pressed back deep into his chair as the human lion and lioness advanced upon him. Closing his eyes, he hoped this was just one of his nightmares. But when he finally forced his eyes open, they were standing on either side of him. As the feline being reached for him, the woman raised a gun. The terrified man’s eyes widened, and with a soft sough, his body went limp. If anyone could be said to have died of fright, it was Lucifer.
His death instantly brought Catherine back from the rage that possessed her. She stared around the room aghast at what she saw, then violently shook herself as if to throw off all that had happened. With a flash of inspiration, she understood Vincent’s self-loathing after he had saved her from her father’s killers. They would have to deal with what had occurred in this room another time. Catherine pulled on Vincent’s arm, sending the beast back to his den in the nether reaches of his mind. The rage slowly faded from his eyes and understanding returned. “We’ve got to get out of here,” she urged.
“Yes,” he whispered and, grabbing her hand, started for the door.
“Wait a minute, Vincent. I’ve got to remove all traces of our presence. Help me find any surveillance cameras.” They searched the entire office and came up empty handed. Lucifer was so sure of his total control and power that he hadn’t felt the need to record his daily affairs. A mistake his successor would not make. Before they left Catherine quickly wiped any surface they may have touched with her handkerchief and shoved the gun into the pocket of her jacket.
Finished, she followed him into the elevator. They returned the way he had come, taking the elevator to the basement and then into the tunnels. “We’ll block this tunnel as soon as possible,” he said.
Hand-in-hand, they walked quietly through the tunnels to the threshold of her building. What was there to say? Shaken by what had transpired, they had silently agreed not to talk about it-- yet. At the threshold to her world, they held each other tightly, drawing comfort and consolation from their love.
“Meet me on the balcony?” she asked, gazing up at him with tired but loving eyes.
“You are tired,” he protested.
“I know, but I don’t want to be apart from you just yet.”
“And I don’t want to part from you, but we must be practical.
We are both exhausted and you
must go to work tomorrow.”
She burrowed deeply into his warm, comfortable embrace. “Work. I dread going in tomorrow.”
Resting his chin on the top of her head, he said reassuringly, “I will be with you.”
She raised her eyes to his. “You will, won’t you?”
“Yes, always,” he vowed. The love in his eyes left her breathless, and she thought how lucky she was to have this man love her. In silence they stood for many long minutes as their bond wrapped them in ribbons of love.
“Then come to me tomorrow night? We need to talk.” She reached up and kissed him gently on the lips.
He returned her kiss as gently as it was given. All the passion seemed to have been burnt out of them by what they had gone through. “I will come as soon as it is dark,” he promised.
She turned out of his arms and slowly walked into the silver light that spilled from some unknown source. He watched her disappear into the bright light then plodded back to his chamber as exhausted as she. It seemed as if they were stoking each other’s fatigue. He wondered tiredly if their connection had become so strong that they were indeed one soul in two bodies. Barely awake, he crawled, fully clothed, onto his bed and collapsed into a deep sleep. His last thought was of Catherine.
Catherine could feel Vincent’s exhaustion as if it was her own. She dragged herself from the elevator to her apartment door. Leaning heavily against the wall, she fumbled with her keys and finally unlocked the door. Staggering into her bedroom, she fell into bed. Whether she was exhausted physically, mentally, or emotionally, she couldn’t decide. It was probably all three. Her last thought as she stretched out on her bed was of Vincent. She was instantly asleep. There had been a significant change in their bond this night.