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Chapter or Story
Copyright 2001 by R. Franke
Legal disclaimer and archival notice in parts one and eight. Author's note at end.
LAVENDER
Part IX
by R. Franke
"What the hell did you do to her?" Sam growled as he shoved Jarod up against the wall of the corridor.
"Hey, hey, take it easy." Broots tugged at Sam's arm.
"Damn it, I didn't do anything," Jarod snapped as he broke Sam's grip on his collar and slammed the other man against the opposite wall. "I don't-"
"Like hell you didn't," Sam shot back, twisting out of Jarod's grip and drawing back his fist. "You don't get it, do you? This is real fucking life, not one of your-"
"That's enough, damn it," Broots roared, interposing himself between the two larger men. "That's enough," he repeated. "Whatever the hell's going on won't be solved by you two trying to beat the crap out of each other." He watched as Jarod and Sam each took a step back and straightened their clothes.
Jarod ran his fingers distractedly through his hair. "I followed her," he said softly, his eyes focused on some distant point. "I followed her."
"What do you mean, you followed her?" Sam challenged.
Jarod eyed them with a bitter smile as he slumped back against the wall. "When we were in DC, Miss Parker went to see a doctor. Dr. Irwin Renninger."
"What- what kind of doctor is he?" Broots asked, his voice filled with trepidation.
"Dr. Renninger," Jarod replied slowly, "is one of the world's leading specialists in cerebral oncology."
"A brain tumor?" Broots gaped. "We thought-"
"Hell, we didn't know what to think," Sam interrupted. "Is it fatal?"
"I don't know," Jarod replied. "But Catherine Parker's twin sister died of a brain tumor as a child, and this," he hesitated slightly, "this sort of thing does tend to run in families."
"I guess the ulcer and everything doesn't help matters much, does it?" Broots asked. The other two men were silent.
"I still need to escort you out," Sam said finally.
"I know," Jarod replied.
"Can't they treat it?" Broots asked. "Drugs? Radiation? Cut it out? Something?"
"Depends on the type, and how advanced it is." Jarod sighed. "I'm heading back to DC to try and get a look at Renninger's files. I'll let you know what I find out." The three men were silent as the rode the elevator down to the main lobby of the Centre.
Broots stopped Jarod with a touch on his arm as they stepped off the elevator. "Are you- I mean is this-" the tech stuttered.
Jarod smiled sadly. "It's real, Mr. Broots. There'd be too many questions if we tried to fake Miss Parker's death a second time." Jarod looked at them gravely. "You both know how she is. She won't ask for help until it's too late. Don't say anything, but just," he smiled sadly, "try and be there for her, as much as she'll let you." Sam nodded, his face expressionless as Broots slumped against the wall and nodded weakly. Jarod shuddered as he walked across the Centre's lobby, leaving the other two standing by the elevator. "Hate this place," he muttered darkly. "Burn it."
***
Mr. Parker eyed the figure standing against the far wall as he sat down at the plain metal table. "Angel-" he began as the guard left the interview room, closing the door behind him.
"It's a damn good thing I look like her," Parker interrupted, contemplating her reflection in the mirrored surface. "The subject is to be raised in a supportive and loving environment, simulating a normal family as much as possible," she quoted. "All tests and simulations are to be disguised; as games, chores, and by modifications to the standardized tests administered to all home-schooled children until the subject's abilities have been fully tested and trained."
"The Tower had your scores," Mr. Parker defended himself. "Your mother and I had to convince-"
"Spare me," Parker snapped, whirling to face her father. "Doctor Jamison wrote that little gem almost five years before I was born. The two of you must have been absolutely thrilled when I tested out so well." She snorted in self-derision. "It never occurred to me why Mama and I played Let's Pretend so much. Or why none of the other kids in that hellhole you sent me to knew any of the games we played."
"Youngfield's is one of the finest girl's schools in the country."
"Yes, it is. Perhaps if I'd grown up normally it wouldn't have been so bad. But girls that age are vicious little beasts, ready to tear apart anyone who doesn't fit in. I was three years younger than any of them and still managed to maintain the highest GPA in the school. And that was my introduction to the real world." She laughed bitterly. "At least Jarod always knew he was a goddamned experiment. Me? I thought I came from a normal loving family. After all, don't most fathers warehouse their children so they'll have more time for business?"
"It wasn't safe," Mr. Parker blustered. "I did the best I could. Sydney couldn't handle both you and Jarod, not to mention you started having your- those-" his hand fluttered helplessly. "Damn it, I wasn't about to turn you over to Raines. Not after the Angelo fiasco."
"And of course," Parker went on as if he hadn't spoken, "the fact that I spent every holiday and semester break at the school just meant I had more time to study. An MBA, a law degree, OCS, a master's degree in Sociology, and a doctorate in International Relations," she listed. "And all before my twenty-fifth birthday. Then you snapped your fingers and I came running back, hoping that maybe, this time, you'd be proud of me. That maybe, we could be a real family, instead of two people who just happen to share a name."
"I've always been proud of you," Mr. Parker replied thickly.
Parker closed her eyes and tilted her head back. "Every man in my life wants me to be something I'm not." She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. "Jarod wants the little girl he fell in love with. The one who fell in love with him. Sydney, of course, wants my mother back so he can stop feeling guilty for at least one of his failures. And you-"
"Angel-"
"You wanted a son. A little you to whom you could pass on your kingdom. Well, guess what, Daddy?" Her gaze came down to spear her father. "I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm not my mother. And I can never be your son." She smiled mirthlessly. "Considering how Lyle turned out, maybe that's not such a bad thing after all." Her face grew pensive. "Tommy wanted me. That's all. Just me. And it cost him his life."
"I am sorry about Thomas, believe me. He was a good man."
"Don't. Don't say another word or I swear, father or not I will rip your throat out." She gave a bark of laughter as she turned away. "God, what I wouldn't give for Ben Miller to have been my real father."
Mr. Parker winced. "I never meant for Thomas to die."
"Will no one rid me of this meddlesome priest?" Parker quoted softly as she moved over to the door. "I know you never ordered him killed. You didn't have to." Her hand slammed against the door. "Guard!" she yelled. "The sweeper who killed him has been taken care of," she continued quietly as the guard opened the door. "Don't expect another visit from me anytime soon. Daddy."
Mr. Parker hung his head as he listened to his daughter's retreating footsteps.
***
It must further be stressed that the necessity for information that is as complete and accurate as possible is an absolute requirement in order to achieve the desired results. Failure by the client to provide complete information, not to mention the use of information known by the client to be of doubtful provenance, is the most probable cause for the failure of Simulation 67-85.
Jack Lisle, US Attorney for the State of Delaware, closed the folder and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
Jenny Blackstone stuck her head around the door. "Hey, Jack. Got something I think you should see."
"What is it?" he replied as an evidence technician brought in a DSA player.
"Watch," Blackstone said, pressing the play button on the machine.
"What the hell?" Lisle watched in silence. "Get me Parker, now," he growled when the DSA ended.
***
Sam looked down at the glass in his hands. "After Jimmy died, I went a little crazy. Did some pretty stupid things, ended up wrecking my marriage and getting kicked out of the Corps." He snorted and set his glass on the table. "The only reason I didn't get tossed in the brig is because my CO went to bat for me. Even found me what looked like a hell of a job, especially with my record."
Broots gave a wry smile. "Tell me about it." Sam took a swallow of his drink and looked at him inquiringly. "I hacked an ultra-secure server at NSA, back when it was still 'No Such Agency'."
"How'd they catch you?"
"My wife needed some money," Broots answered. "A lot of money, fast. I hated the gambling, but I was still in love with her then, and well," he shrugged. "I tried to sell what I found to the wrong people. I didn't realize I was selling myself until it was too late." He took a swallow from his drink as Sam nodded in sympathy. "So how'd you end up working for Miss Parker?" Broots continued.
"I was down at the firing range, getting some practice in. I was just about to start my third go-round when this woman walks up beside me and empties her clip into my target."
Broots laughed. "You're joking, right? You mean she really-"
Sam grinned and held up his hand. "Hand to God, I did not know what to think. I took a couple steps back, aimed my gun at her and yelled 'Who the hell are you, you crazy bitch?' or something like that."
"What'd she do then?"
"She ejected the old clip, put a new one in and holstered her gun. Then she steps forward until my gun is dead center not more than an inch from her chest and says, 'Your new boss.' Then she hits the button to bring the target back and walks off." Sam held up a finger. "And get this, the bullet holes made the letter P. Impressed the hell out of me, let me tell you."
Broots laughed. "That sounds like her."
"Yeah." Sam's tone grew pensive. "But you know what really got me?" he continued. "About three months after I started with her we were out in California, I forget what for, but whatever it was, it was supposed to take two, maybe three days at the most, and we'd already been out there for a week. It would have been the first time I'd missed Jimmy's birthday since he was born."
"Would have been?" Broots prompted gently as Sam fell silent.
"Yeah," Sam continued. "I never told anybody back then, just made sure I had the day off so I could head down to Norfolk and visit with him." Sam tilted his head back and swallowed the last of his drink. "5:30 that morning, Miss Parker summons me to her suite, hands me a plane ticket to Norfolk and tells me I have less than an hour to catch my flight." Sam chuckled. "I tried to thank her and she told me she was taking the cost of the ticket out of my pay and the time it took out of my annual vacation. I still don't know how she knew, or even why she bothered to find out. None of the other Centre big shots ever did." He looked over as Broots stiffened and drew in his breath sharply. Sam followed Broots' eyes to the door. "Willie," he said neutrally.
"Mr. Broots. Sam," Mr. Raines' former sweeper returned as he walked across the restaurant and sat down at the bar.
Broots nodded shortly then turned back to Sam. "Why the hell isn't he in jail?" he hissed.
"No proof," Sam replied. "He says Raines forced him, and with that second chance policy Miss Parker's instituted I don't have a choice, unless I can catch him doing... something," Sam trailed off.
"He was 'just following orders' then?" Broots asked. "Nothing he did was his fault? He doesn't have to take responsibility for anything?"
"Weren't we all?" Sam replied.
***
Margaret fiddled nervously with the bottle of hair dye. "I wish you would reconsider."
Emily glanced in the mirror and adjusted the bangs on her now-blonde hair. "The only way to get any definite answers is to go inside the Centre, and you don't have the skills to pull it off." Emily sighed and continued in a gentler tone. "I promise, Mother. I will stay as far away from Parker and Jarod as possible." She paused as she picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. "Dad and Jimmy are in Dover now." Margaret turned her head away and studied the pattern of the wallpaper. "It's been twenty years," Emily said quietly. "Maybe it's time you forgave him."
Margaret remained unmoving until she heard the door click softly shut. "It's not him I can't forgive," she whispered to the empty room. "It's myself."
***
"Because Parker and Brigitte had a hate-on for each other like you would not believe," Lyle snapped. "I just cannot believe she would do something that stupid."
"Believe it," Em replied. "I tried to talk her out of it, but maybe that explains it."
Lyle eyed the blonde askance. "Explains what?"
"She let her hatred of Parker cloud her judgement," Em smiled thinly. "In this business, that'll get you killed."
"It was Parker's judgement I wanted clouded," Lyle groused. He blew out his breath with a huff and ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, Emma-"
"Em," she interrupted. "I prefer Em."
"Sure, fine, whatever," Lyle replied. "The important thing is to get close to Parker. If I'm to get the kids I need as much information as possible."
"I know my job, Mr. Lyle," Em replied coldly.
"Then try not to get the wrong person killed this time," Lyle snapped as he stalked out.
Cox appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised. "Is everything all right, Em?" Angelo scuttled in behind him.
Em snorted. "Fine. Mr. 'I coulda been a Pretenda' just had another of his little snit fits."
"He is a necessary evil if the Temple is to rise again," Cox replied. "Try to keep that in mind, Sister."
"Deo volente," Em murmured as she knelt before Cox. "Your blessing, Father."
Cox smiled as he made the Sign of the Cross above Em's bowed head. "Dominus vobiscum, my child."
"Et cum spiritu tuo," Em replied. She remained kneeling, waiting until Cox and Angelo had left the room before allowing the corners of her mouth to curl up into a smile. "Fool."
***
"Betray you," Angelo commented quietly as they walked down the hall.
"I know," Cox responded, raising his eyes to Heaven. "He hath told me. She shall burn."
Angelo shuddered. "Hellfire."
Cox smiled. "Purification," he corrected. "The world shall be purified in Holy Fire."
End Part IX
Author's Note: Miss Parker quotes the purported words of King Henry II of England to her father, words that led directly to the murder of Thomas a' Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury. See http://www.ibis.com/becket.htm for more information, or watch the excellent movie Becket, starring Richard Burton and Peter O'Toole. Em also quotes, or rather misquotes, Marlon Brando's famous line from Elia Kazan's On the Waterfront in her conversation with Cox.
Comments? Opinions?
Legal disclaimer and archival notice in parts one and eight. Author's note at end.
Part IX
by R. Franke
"What the hell did you do to her?" Sam growled as he shoved Jarod up against the wall of the corridor.
"Hey, hey, take it easy." Broots tugged at Sam's arm.
"Damn it, I didn't do anything," Jarod snapped as he broke Sam's grip on his collar and slammed the other man against the opposite wall. "I don't-"
"Like hell you didn't," Sam shot back, twisting out of Jarod's grip and drawing back his fist. "You don't get it, do you? This is real fucking life, not one of your-"
"That's enough, damn it," Broots roared, interposing himself between the two larger men. "That's enough," he repeated. "Whatever the hell's going on won't be solved by you two trying to beat the crap out of each other." He watched as Jarod and Sam each took a step back and straightened their clothes.
Jarod ran his fingers distractedly through his hair. "I followed her," he said softly, his eyes focused on some distant point. "I followed her."
"What do you mean, you followed her?" Sam challenged.
Jarod eyed them with a bitter smile as he slumped back against the wall. "When we were in DC, Miss Parker went to see a doctor. Dr. Irwin Renninger."
"What- what kind of doctor is he?" Broots asked, his voice filled with trepidation.
"Dr. Renninger," Jarod replied slowly, "is one of the world's leading specialists in cerebral oncology."
"A brain tumor?" Broots gaped. "We thought-"
"Hell, we didn't know what to think," Sam interrupted. "Is it fatal?"
"I don't know," Jarod replied. "But Catherine Parker's twin sister died of a brain tumor as a child, and this," he hesitated slightly, "this sort of thing does tend to run in families."
"I guess the ulcer and everything doesn't help matters much, does it?" Broots asked. The other two men were silent.
"I still need to escort you out," Sam said finally.
"I know," Jarod replied.
"Can't they treat it?" Broots asked. "Drugs? Radiation? Cut it out? Something?"
"Depends on the type, and how advanced it is." Jarod sighed. "I'm heading back to DC to try and get a look at Renninger's files. I'll let you know what I find out." The three men were silent as the rode the elevator down to the main lobby of the Centre.
Broots stopped Jarod with a touch on his arm as they stepped off the elevator. "Are you- I mean is this-" the tech stuttered.
Jarod smiled sadly. "It's real, Mr. Broots. There'd be too many questions if we tried to fake Miss Parker's death a second time." Jarod looked at them gravely. "You both know how she is. She won't ask for help until it's too late. Don't say anything, but just," he smiled sadly, "try and be there for her, as much as she'll let you." Sam nodded, his face expressionless as Broots slumped against the wall and nodded weakly. Jarod shuddered as he walked across the Centre's lobby, leaving the other two standing by the elevator. "Hate this place," he muttered darkly. "Burn it."
***
Mr. Parker eyed the figure standing against the far wall as he sat down at the plain metal table. "Angel-" he began as the guard left the interview room, closing the door behind him.
"It's a damn good thing I look like her," Parker interrupted, contemplating her reflection in the mirrored surface. "The subject is to be raised in a supportive and loving environment, simulating a normal family as much as possible," she quoted. "All tests and simulations are to be disguised; as games, chores, and by modifications to the standardized tests administered to all home-schooled children until the subject's abilities have been fully tested and trained."
"The Tower had your scores," Mr. Parker defended himself. "Your mother and I had to convince-"
"Spare me," Parker snapped, whirling to face her father. "Doctor Jamison wrote that little gem almost five years before I was born. The two of you must have been absolutely thrilled when I tested out so well." She snorted in self-derision. "It never occurred to me why Mama and I played Let's Pretend so much. Or why none of the other kids in that hellhole you sent me to knew any of the games we played."
"Youngfield's is one of the finest girl's schools in the country."
"Yes, it is. Perhaps if I'd grown up normally it wouldn't have been so bad. But girls that age are vicious little beasts, ready to tear apart anyone who doesn't fit in. I was three years younger than any of them and still managed to maintain the highest GPA in the school. And that was my introduction to the real world." She laughed bitterly. "At least Jarod always knew he was a goddamned experiment. Me? I thought I came from a normal loving family. After all, don't most fathers warehouse their children so they'll have more time for business?"
"It wasn't safe," Mr. Parker blustered. "I did the best I could. Sydney couldn't handle both you and Jarod, not to mention you started having your- those-" his hand fluttered helplessly. "Damn it, I wasn't about to turn you over to Raines. Not after the Angelo fiasco."
"And of course," Parker went on as if he hadn't spoken, "the fact that I spent every holiday and semester break at the school just meant I had more time to study. An MBA, a law degree, OCS, a master's degree in Sociology, and a doctorate in International Relations," she listed. "And all before my twenty-fifth birthday. Then you snapped your fingers and I came running back, hoping that maybe, this time, you'd be proud of me. That maybe, we could be a real family, instead of two people who just happen to share a name."
"I've always been proud of you," Mr. Parker replied thickly.
Parker closed her eyes and tilted her head back. "Every man in my life wants me to be something I'm not." She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. "Jarod wants the little girl he fell in love with. The one who fell in love with him. Sydney, of course, wants my mother back so he can stop feeling guilty for at least one of his failures. And you-"
"Angel-"
"You wanted a son. A little you to whom you could pass on your kingdom. Well, guess what, Daddy?" Her gaze came down to spear her father. "I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm not my mother. And I can never be your son." She smiled mirthlessly. "Considering how Lyle turned out, maybe that's not such a bad thing after all." Her face grew pensive. "Tommy wanted me. That's all. Just me. And it cost him his life."
"I am sorry about Thomas, believe me. He was a good man."
"Don't. Don't say another word or I swear, father or not I will rip your throat out." She gave a bark of laughter as she turned away. "God, what I wouldn't give for Ben Miller to have been my real father."
Mr. Parker winced. "I never meant for Thomas to die."
"Will no one rid me of this meddlesome priest?" Parker quoted softly as she moved over to the door. "I know you never ordered him killed. You didn't have to." Her hand slammed against the door. "Guard!" she yelled. "The sweeper who killed him has been taken care of," she continued quietly as the guard opened the door. "Don't expect another visit from me anytime soon. Daddy."
Mr. Parker hung his head as he listened to his daughter's retreating footsteps.
***
It must further be stressed that the necessity for information that is as complete and accurate as possible is an absolute requirement in order to achieve the desired results. Failure by the client to provide complete information, not to mention the use of information known by the client to be of doubtful provenance, is the most probable cause for the failure of Simulation 67-85.
Jack Lisle, US Attorney for the State of Delaware, closed the folder and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
Jenny Blackstone stuck her head around the door. "Hey, Jack. Got something I think you should see."
"What is it?" he replied as an evidence technician brought in a DSA player.
"Watch," Blackstone said, pressing the play button on the machine.
"What the hell?" Lisle watched in silence. "Get me Parker, now," he growled when the DSA ended.
***
Sam looked down at the glass in his hands. "After Jimmy died, I went a little crazy. Did some pretty stupid things, ended up wrecking my marriage and getting kicked out of the Corps." He snorted and set his glass on the table. "The only reason I didn't get tossed in the brig is because my CO went to bat for me. Even found me what looked like a hell of a job, especially with my record."
Broots gave a wry smile. "Tell me about it." Sam took a swallow of his drink and looked at him inquiringly. "I hacked an ultra-secure server at NSA, back when it was still 'No Such Agency'."
"How'd they catch you?"
"My wife needed some money," Broots answered. "A lot of money, fast. I hated the gambling, but I was still in love with her then, and well," he shrugged. "I tried to sell what I found to the wrong people. I didn't realize I was selling myself until it was too late." He took a swallow from his drink as Sam nodded in sympathy. "So how'd you end up working for Miss Parker?" Broots continued.
"I was down at the firing range, getting some practice in. I was just about to start my third go-round when this woman walks up beside me and empties her clip into my target."
Broots laughed. "You're joking, right? You mean she really-"
Sam grinned and held up his hand. "Hand to God, I did not know what to think. I took a couple steps back, aimed my gun at her and yelled 'Who the hell are you, you crazy bitch?' or something like that."
"What'd she do then?"
"She ejected the old clip, put a new one in and holstered her gun. Then she steps forward until my gun is dead center not more than an inch from her chest and says, 'Your new boss.' Then she hits the button to bring the target back and walks off." Sam held up a finger. "And get this, the bullet holes made the letter P. Impressed the hell out of me, let me tell you."
Broots laughed. "That sounds like her."
"Yeah." Sam's tone grew pensive. "But you know what really got me?" he continued. "About three months after I started with her we were out in California, I forget what for, but whatever it was, it was supposed to take two, maybe three days at the most, and we'd already been out there for a week. It would have been the first time I'd missed Jimmy's birthday since he was born."
"Would have been?" Broots prompted gently as Sam fell silent.
"Yeah," Sam continued. "I never told anybody back then, just made sure I had the day off so I could head down to Norfolk and visit with him." Sam tilted his head back and swallowed the last of his drink. "5:30 that morning, Miss Parker summons me to her suite, hands me a plane ticket to Norfolk and tells me I have less than an hour to catch my flight." Sam chuckled. "I tried to thank her and she told me she was taking the cost of the ticket out of my pay and the time it took out of my annual vacation. I still don't know how she knew, or even why she bothered to find out. None of the other Centre big shots ever did." He looked over as Broots stiffened and drew in his breath sharply. Sam followed Broots' eyes to the door. "Willie," he said neutrally.
"Mr. Broots. Sam," Mr. Raines' former sweeper returned as he walked across the restaurant and sat down at the bar.
Broots nodded shortly then turned back to Sam. "Why the hell isn't he in jail?" he hissed.
"No proof," Sam replied. "He says Raines forced him, and with that second chance policy Miss Parker's instituted I don't have a choice, unless I can catch him doing... something," Sam trailed off.
"He was 'just following orders' then?" Broots asked. "Nothing he did was his fault? He doesn't have to take responsibility for anything?"
"Weren't we all?" Sam replied.
***
Margaret fiddled nervously with the bottle of hair dye. "I wish you would reconsider."
Emily glanced in the mirror and adjusted the bangs on her now-blonde hair. "The only way to get any definite answers is to go inside the Centre, and you don't have the skills to pull it off." Emily sighed and continued in a gentler tone. "I promise, Mother. I will stay as far away from Parker and Jarod as possible." She paused as she picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. "Dad and Jimmy are in Dover now." Margaret turned her head away and studied the pattern of the wallpaper. "It's been twenty years," Emily said quietly. "Maybe it's time you forgave him."
Margaret remained unmoving until she heard the door click softly shut. "It's not him I can't forgive," she whispered to the empty room. "It's myself."
***
"Because Parker and Brigitte had a hate-on for each other like you would not believe," Lyle snapped. "I just cannot believe she would do something that stupid."
"Believe it," Em replied. "I tried to talk her out of it, but maybe that explains it."
Lyle eyed the blonde askance. "Explains what?"
"She let her hatred of Parker cloud her judgement," Em smiled thinly. "In this business, that'll get you killed."
"It was Parker's judgement I wanted clouded," Lyle groused. He blew out his breath with a huff and ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, Emma-"
"Em," she interrupted. "I prefer Em."
"Sure, fine, whatever," Lyle replied. "The important thing is to get close to Parker. If I'm to get the kids I need as much information as possible."
"I know my job, Mr. Lyle," Em replied coldly.
"Then try not to get the wrong person killed this time," Lyle snapped as he stalked out.
Cox appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised. "Is everything all right, Em?" Angelo scuttled in behind him.
Em snorted. "Fine. Mr. 'I coulda been a Pretenda' just had another of his little snit fits."
"He is a necessary evil if the Temple is to rise again," Cox replied. "Try to keep that in mind, Sister."
"Deo volente," Em murmured as she knelt before Cox. "Your blessing, Father."
Cox smiled as he made the Sign of the Cross above Em's bowed head. "Dominus vobiscum, my child."
"Et cum spiritu tuo," Em replied. She remained kneeling, waiting until Cox and Angelo had left the room before allowing the corners of her mouth to curl up into a smile. "Fool."
***
"Betray you," Angelo commented quietly as they walked down the hall.
"I know," Cox responded, raising his eyes to Heaven. "He hath told me. She shall burn."
Angelo shuddered. "Hellfire."
Cox smiled. "Purification," he corrected. "The world shall be purified in Holy Fire."
End Part IX
Author's Note: Miss Parker quotes the purported words of King Henry II of England to her father, words that led directly to the murder of Thomas a' Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury. See http://www.ibis.com/becket.htm for more information, or watch the excellent movie Becket, starring Richard Burton and Peter O'Toole. Em also quotes, or rather misquotes, Marlon Brando's famous line from Elia Kazan's On the Waterfront in her conversation with Cox.
Comments? Opinions?
