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Wednesday.
“This can’t be real,” Solo declared in utter shock, as he watched the newsreel film from the satellite running across the screen of Rachel Zimmerman’s computer.
“I’m afraid it is,” Rachel replied sadly. This was the third time she’d reviewed the footage. On the screen before them, edited images cut from exploding skyscrapers to collapsing freeways to fires bursting through the streets around Union Station, with the sounds of crashing cars and screaming pedestrians rattling the speakers and filling the computer room all around them. There was even a distant shot of the Santa Monica Pier being overwhelmed by the massive waves of a tsunami rolling in from the Pacific Ocean.
“All the news media feeds are carrying it,” Ken Sloan added, sitting beside her.
“When did this happen?” Solo demanded.
“They’re saying right before 1 p.m.”
Solo glanced at the clock overhead. “It isn’t one yet.”
“L.A. time. A little less than an hour ago.”
“But Illya said that the earthquake zone near Seattle and the San Andreas Fault were separate, unconnected ---.” Then, Solo caught himself. Illya had actually said that because the government had cut the research funding, the answer was still inconclusive.
Well, they had their answer now.
“That God First guy predicted it, remember?” Chip reminded them as he joined the group. “We talked about it at the picnic. What’s-his-name said because it was a cesspool of sin, that God would destroy the whole city with an earthquake.”
Not God, Solo thought to himself: me.
And now, with Seattle destroyed, all the major players in Thrush gone, and the two major political parties in chaos, that third-party religious fanatic candidate running for president was no longer a longshot.
And with the election less than three months away. What fucking timing.
“Did Vinnie Sandler see this?” Solo asked, knowing the answer.
“Yeah,” Rachel said, her voice apologetic. “She was sitting here when the feed came through. She left right away and went looking for you.”
“I’ll bet.” Solo shook his head, disgusted. He turned to Rachel. “How many people were affected by this?”
She did a quick estimate. “From Malibu to Orange County? Oh, probably about 13 or 14 million.”
“And how many dead?”
“No estimates yet --- sorry.”
He patted her shoulder. “Stay on it. Give me updates.”
“Yessir.”
As Solo left, Chip, Ken and Rachel exchanged worried glances. It wasn’t going to be a good afternoon.
****
Out in the corridor, Solo heard the voice and the hurried footsteps fast approaching, and didn’t need to look back over his shoulder to know who it was.
“Mr. Solo --- Napoleon!”
Against his better judgment, he halted and turned. Taking a deep breath to keep his emotions in check, he addressed her evenly. “Yes, Vinnie?”
“Can we do that interview now?”
“No, Vinnie.”
“But you promised!”
“I’m dead, remember? I died in Seattle. And come to think of it --- so did you.”
But Sandler was undeterred. “Well, you look pretty good to me. I guess that virus treatment is working. Where’d you get it?”
“That’s classified.”
“And I suppose you’ll take it with you. Where are you going to hide out?”
“That’s classified, too.”
Sandler shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I heard Chip and the crew talking to those researchers at the University of Melbourne. I assume they’re going to treat the president’s wife and find a cure or a vaccine or something for the rest of Australia. I’m guessing that you’ll go, too, if only as the guinea pig they’ll need. Maybe take your wife and kid and go to the Outback.”
Exasperated, Solo pushed back a comma of hair. “Vinnie, need I remind you that I saved your ass? Yours and Gary’s. You owe me.”
“Sure. And as I told you in the past, I always protect my sources. So, it won’t come from me. But, again, it won’t matter. L.A. is the big story now. That’s where we’re headed tomorrow. But, soon, they’ll connect L.A. with Seattle. The investigations are going on right now, even as we speak. Eventually, someone is going to discover that your plane took off that night ---"
“With you on it.”
“Not necessarily. The press was banned from the dinner, remember? So, I’ll just say that we received a tip from the rebels that something was going down, and we left early.”
“And what about Gary’s photo?” Solo reminded her. “That could only be taken from above, from inside a plane.”
Sandler shrugged again. “Could have been someone else in another plane that happened to be passing overheard. Gary can skip the credit. I’ll talk to Billy Church. Maybe, he’ll want to hold it back and release it in the future ---.
“--- Or not at all!"
“That’s possible, too.” Now, her voice turned sympathetic. “In any case, you’re going to have to watch your back. Even if the authorities don’t come after you, someone else will. It’s not going to end here.”
Watch your back. Forever. And did that include Lilah and Adam?
This wasn’t getting them anywhere. Frustrated, Solo sighed. “I have to go …”
“Can I at least get a quote from you?”
Some last words? Solo almost said it aloud. Instead, he thought for a moment, considering. “Tell your readers … tell them: I’m sorry. I only wanted to change the world and make it a better place.”
And then, he retreated from the journalist, leaving her to stand alone, in the middle of an empty corridor.
****
Gary Littlefield had only observed part of the conversation between his reporter and Napoleon Solo. Truthfully, he didn’t know exactly what Vinnie had hoped to get from the man. What was he supposed to say? Did she expect a defense of his actions in Seattle? She had all the files to explain that. If she wanted to hear the rationale from the horse’s mouth, she may have missed her moment. Gary guessed that the unpredictable earthquake now wreaking destruction south of them, hadn't been part of Solo’s plan, but it wouldn’t matter. History would connect the two. Solo would own this heavy burden forever.
He found his way to the infirmary, guessing that’s where Lilah would be. There had been no base-wide announcement of the devastating news from L.A. yet. The crew there may not even know what happened. But from the look of Solo as he argued with Vinnie in the corridor, he would soon be needing the understanding shoulder of his wife.
The staff greeted him with wary smiles. He was used to it by now. The doctor had emerged from his office, meeting him just inside the doorway.
“What can we do for you?” Mitchell asked, noticing Gary did not have his camera along. “Somebody need help?”
Littlefield recalled the footage he’d just seen. Uncounted thousands needed help, yes.
“There’s been an earthquake,” he said without preamble.
Lilah emerged from the room where Lyle was still recovering. “Where?” she asked, overhearing him. “Washington?” She knew a quake along the fault nearest to Seattle was always a risk. But if it hadn’t happened immediately …
“No,” he said, his voice hoarse. “California. Los Angeles.”
“Bad one?” Mitch asked, though he didn’t have to. The look on the photographer’s face said it all.
Gary nodded. “9.6 they say.”
“Christ,” Mitch swore.
Lilah felt her legs tremble and knew they weren’t going to hold her up. She landed in the closest chair with a thud.
Was this because of them? Because of what they’d done? California was so far away. How could it affect that distant fault? Illya said — But Illya hadn’t said. Not really. Not definitely.
God … She thought of Napoleon. Oh…God…
“Does Napoleon know?” she asked.
Littlefield nodded. “Rachel showed him the satellite footage.”
Lilah’s eyes closed. Seattle had been hard enough, but he’d looked at it as a mission and had prepared himself for the fallout. But this… so many thousands of unexpected innocents caught in the unintended consequences of his decision… it would break his heart. And his soul? She needed to find him. Now.
“I have to go,” she said, bounding up from her seat and rushing out the door.
****
Fifteen minutes later, Gerry was surprised to find Solo arriving at her security station. He motioned to a pack of cigarettes sitting on the corner of the console. “Does that belong to Snake?”
Gerry blinked. “Uh, yeah, he left it here this morning.”
Solo shook out a cigarette, and then ripped off a match from the accompanying pack. “I don’t think he’ll mind if I borrow one.”
“Ummm, no sir,” she said, not wanting to argue. He hadn’t smoked since his heart attack so many months ago.
“I’m going outside. I need to think.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Don’t tell anyone where I am, all right?”
“Yes, sir.”
As she watched him leave through the base’s front entrance, she knew what she’d heard was not just a request, but an order. And although she had never disobeyed even one of his requests, never mind his orders --- ever --- she knew she would, now. Choosing the button for the infirmary’s intercom, she said, “This is Gerry Diamond: is Mrs. Solo there?”
****
Lilah punched the door code to the apartment rapidly, and burst through the door, calling Napoleon’s name. It only took a few seconds to see he wasn’t there. She’d been hoping he was alone in their darkened rooms with a half-drunk bottle of scotch to soothe him. That he wasn’t, terrified her.
In the bedroom, she saw that the bottom drawer of his dresser was open and the clothes disturbed. A whimper escaped her throat. There were weapons stashed in several places inside their living quarters, but that was where he’d stored Jimmy Quinn’s U.N.C.L.E. Special since the day Quinn had —
Oh, no. Nononono ….
She bolted to the door, frantic, not having any idea where he would go to be alone. And alone was the last thing he needed now. Before she got there, the intercom sounded, shrill and frightening.
As Lilah snapped the button, Gerry Diamond’s voice came on. “This is Gerry. I called the infirmary, but they said you might be here.”
“OH, thank God,“ Lilah said aloud. Gerry would know where he was. She always did.
“Mrs. Solo — Lilah — you should know that Mr. Solo just went outside. He told me he needed time to think.” She paused, then making up her mind, she added, “And I saw in his pocket — he has a gun. I just got the feeling it wasn’t only for security.”
****
Lilah raced through Epsilon’s corridors, passing a few of the people who hadn’t yet left the complex. If they were curious or concerned about her hurry, she couldn’t have cared less. She barely nodded at Gerry, who now had Plissken sitting beside her. Both of them looked tense. If they offered her help, she wasn’t there long enough to hear it.
In the distance, she could make out Solo’s lone figure at the picnic bench. She continued to run a bit, then slowed as she got closer. He was staring out to the horizon. Cigarette smoke was streaming lazily toward the treeline. She couldn’t see the Special.
When she reached him, she stood for a moment, catching her breath. She pulled her tangled, wind-blown hair from her eyes before sitting beside him.
“I heard about L.A.,” she said quietly. She waited for a response.
After a moment, he replied without turning. He sounded distant, contemplative. “Oh? Hear any latest body count?”
“It is not our fault. Not your fault.”
“Mmmmm…”
She glanced over him to spy the automatic on the bench beside his right hip. A shiver of fear went through her.
“How are your symptoms today?” she asked casually. She reached for his free hand to hold it and check for any tremors.
He allowed it, taking a drag of the cigarette, apparently uninterested in her concern. “Does it really matter?” he said. She hadn’t mentioned the smoking. If he was lucky, he thought grimly, he’d get another heart attack from it. Then, there’d be nothing more to discuss.
“It matters,” she said, squeezing his hand and raising it to her lips. “It matters to me. It matters to Adam. It matters to Tilly McClaine and to all of Australia.” She clutched his hand. “You matter.”
Solo snuffled a dry laugh in response, still studying the trees. “The treatment works well enough. Vinnie said I looked pretty good. Chip, Rachel and Ken have the files. They don’t need me anymore.”
Lilah felt as though a fist had gripped her heart. She shook her head, swallowing down her fear. “That’s not true. Think how much they can still learn from you. They do need you. The world still needs you. Please tell me you see that.”
“The world,” he repeated softly. He thought of the oath he’d taken so many years ago. To protect and defend all nations… And the Innocents. Waverly had always demanded that no matter what the mission required, there should be no collateral human damage. “I don’t save people anymore. I kill them. At this point, I’m sure it can get along just fine without me.”
Panic began to creep into her thoughts, into her voice. “And me? I can’t get along without you.”
Solo’s gaze shifted sideways and his voice turned sympathetic. “Dee Dee, I have loved five women in my life. And directly or indirectly, I have caused the death of three of them. After what happened this morning, you know they will come after me. Do you really want to be the fourth?” He took a breath. “And Adam… I will not put my son in that kind of danger.”
His dispassionate words began to fray Lilah’s shaky control. She found her volume rising and her tone turning desperate.
“We’ve been hunted since we found each other. Why would I be more afraid of that now? You think they’ll leave me in peace if you're gone?” She made a scornful choking sound. “You can’t just toss me over to Snake anymore, thinking that I’d accept that, that I’d want that. He loves someone now. I’d be alone.”
“Well, it’s better than you being dead.”
Solo snorted irritably, finished the cigarette, pressed the butt against the bench and tossed it away. He slid his hand from Lilah’s. “It’s true. I used to think if anything happened to me, you could end up with Snake. And yeah, that place seems to be taken now — sorry.
“But he promised me he’d protect you and as we’ve all seen, Snake keeps his promises. It was different before Adam; you could take those risks. But our son needs you now, a lot more than you need me.”
Lilah nodded like he was making sense. “Yes, Snake will protect me. And Adam.” She paused. “And ruin all our lives doing it.”
“Ruining lives is what I do these days.” Why couldn’t she understand that not only didn’t he think he deserved to keep going, but he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to?
“Gerry’s, too?” she pressed. “You want to do that, after all this time protecting her? I don’t need just anyone. I need you.” A thought burst in her head like a flash of lightning. “And your sons need you.” She emphasized the plural word.
Solo narrowed his eyes. Did she mean Snake, who’d become a kind of son to him — not to mention all the other feral young people who filled Epsilon base? He’d certainly become a father figure to them; he knew that. But as he studied the expression on her face, he realized she meant something else. “What are you talking about?” He paused. “Are you pregnant again?”
She shook her head. “No, no. But I do have something to tell you. I’ve been trying for two days… I spoke to Marty while we were coming home. He worked for Waverly in Nevada, did you know that?”
“Yeah, when we were walking to Illya’s room, he told me that he drove Waverly around, did errands. Apparently, he even drove me, although I didn’t recognize him. He knew Lisa Rogers, Waverly’s secretary. I figured he was connected to U.N.C.L.E. in some way. Like Gerry was.”
“He was there because his mother worked there, too…” She stopped to take his hand again. “Her name was Mara… He’s the right age. The timelines match up. You all have the same blood type,” she said, finding a smile. “I think he’s your son.”
“My —” Solo caught himself. Mara. Nowhere, Nevada. The secret base. “I knew Lisa Rogers. I was out driving her to pick up coffee for the office when it was hit.”
He had no response at first; he was too busy connecting the threads. Lilah was probably right. It did make sense. Well. One more surprise for the morning. He settled back, his expression turning dark.
“So, does he know I caused the death of his mother, too?”
Lilah’s mouth tightened. She wasn’t that good at persuasion in the face of such dogged determination. Physical wounds she could mend. Psychic wounds were infinitely harder. She needed help to get through to him, to know what would reach his heart. She needed Illya. But he had left her, too.
“He thinks you are a worthwhile man to have for a father,” she said, trying again. “He doesn’t want to humiliate or embarrass you into acknowledging him. He’d be content to just leave your life if you don’t want to know him. But I guess that won’t be necessary, since you’ll be leaving him along with the rest of us.”
Solo frowned, considering what she’d just told him, trying to get accustomed to the idea. Despite his sexual adventures, he’d always been careful, with his first wife, then with Clara, and later, with all the secretaries, and even Angelique and the Thrushwomen. Especially with them.
But not with Mara. He’d been under the influence of Capsule B. He didn’t even know who he was. But he’d made love to her, willingly, and she was the first person he thought of when Schreck told him the base was destroyed. April’s death had been the kicker.
“I never knew she was pregnant,” he admitted to Lilah. “But I did love her. We met again about a month after the Nowhere Affair, and I told her so. I wanted to continue our relationship. She said no. She said I hadn’t been myself and besides, she didn’t want the stress of being connected to an Enforcement agent who was always in danger. I told her I’d quit the field then and marry her, but she said no to that as well. She couldn’t do that to me, she said, that it was who I really was, and she didn’t want to change that.
“I knew after she took those amnesia pills, that she’d be safe and employed. Waverly offered her a position in the Nevada district office. I didn’t work in Vegas much, so that was that.
“I didn’t see her again until after the war started and HQ moved underground. Marty remembered picking me up from a chopper, but he didn’t know my name. I did see Mara then, but only for a few minutes. It was after Adele, but I was still a mess. It was awkward, to say the least. The one thing I recall was that she said she regretted not marrying me. Because if we had married, I would not have been captured and tortured.”
He shrugged helplessly. “I had nothing to offer back to her. So, we parted, with not even a kiss goodbye.”
Solo turned back to the trees. “So, you think Marty would want to hear all that? Might change his mind about his father being worthwhile.”
“None of us can change the past,” she said. “Maybe it will. But you owe him the chance to decide for himself.”
“I suppose.” Up until now, Solo had been able to compartmentalize his emotions as he’d learned to do. But sometimes, like at El Muro, like in Lilah’s bathtub, like at the cabin with Danny, and most of all, like nearly losing Lilah after her miscarriage, they escaped and caught up with him, infiltrating his spirit and dragging him down. As they did now.
He felt his eyes begin to tear up. “Dee Dee, I’ll be honest. I don’t know if I can live with all this. I don’t know how to get past it. And I am so afraid that it won’t end unless I’m dead.”
Seeing his tears triggered Lilah’s own. She clutched at his left hand, unable to avoid seeing how close his right was to Jimmy Quinn’s Special; how quickly he could grab it and end this pain.
“But you’re not done,” she whispered, remembering words that were said to him by the man who he considered on a par with God. “ ‘What right do you have to throw away your life when so many others need you…’ I’m sorry if you want to. But you can’t.” The silent tears turned to sobbing. “And if you still think you have to, then you’ll have to d-do it with me beside you, just like every other awful thing that’s happened to us. B-because I won’t leave you. I promised. I will not.”
“Please …” she breathed, as tears streamed down her cheeks. She touched her free hand to his face. “Don’t leave me this way, please.”
Solo squeezed his eyes shut. Lilah’s desperation and sorrow got to him. It always did. He remembered the night of her miscarriage, telling Mitch: If that girl dies, you might as well reserve a slab in the morgue for me too, because I won't exist like that again. Ever.
Now, their positions were reversed, and she was telling him the same thing.
He reached out an arm, wrapped it around her shoulders, and tugged her close. Taking a deep breath, he said, “All right. I understand. I’ll get on that plane. But here’s something you’ve always understood: If the treatment wears off and can’t be replaced, I will make Quinn’s choice. If they come to arrest me, I won’t be taken. And if I think you and Adam are in danger because of me, I won’t permit that, either.” He looked at her. “I’m afraid that’s the deal. I don’t know if I can keep going — I don’t even know if I deserve to — but I’ll try, for your sake and Adam’s. Because I truly do love you both.”
Lilah looked up at him, swiping the tears from her face. “What have you ever seen in me that would make you think I would choose anything else? You have my word.”
She relaxed in his embrace, wondering how long they really had before she was forced to keep such a terrible promise.
“Ah, Dee Dee,” he sighed again, and gave her a hug. ”Maybe, Mara was right. And with this virus, I worry every time I kiss you or the baby. I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to make love to you again.”
A whimper of pain escaped her throat. That notion was too much for Lilah to consider. It was too huge a part of their lives to contemplate giving up forever. “That's what we will find out in Australia; why we have to go. All the answers are inside you.
“We only have a few hours,” she said. “And a lot to do in that time. Are you up to it?”
“I will have to be,” he replied. This was like the old days; some things never changed. “I guess we should pack. The plane leaves tonight. And probably, I should say something to the young folks. They’re leaving to go back out into the world, so they’ll be expecting at least a goodbye.”
As they stood to leave, Lilah gestured to the Special. “May I have that?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
He almost said no. Quinn had given it to him — willed it to him — as a reminder of who they both were and had sworn to be. It wasn’t a weapon like any other. Although the sleep darts were long gone, they were still there in spirit. An U.N.C.L.E. Special had never really been about killing. It was about defense and protection of both agent and Innocent, and not so incidentally, saving the world.
He handed it to her anyway, as a conciliatory gesture. “Another souvenir to add to your collection?” He looked around them. “You know we’re still outside. Are you going to use it to protect me?”
Lilah doubted they were under any threat at Epsilon at this moment, but she understood Napoleon’s habits and instincts. “I will always protect you, just like you always protect me.” she said, remembering all the emotional ledges he’d talked her down from. “Even from yourself.” She smiled at him, grateful for his understanding as well. “I’ll make sure it’s on the plane.”
Now, finally, he did return her smile. “Can’t ask for more.”
****
An hour later, Vinnie Sandler went looking for her photographer. After some searching, she found him sitting alone at a table in the commissary.
“Did you hear?” she asked Littlefield excitedly. “Solo’s going to address the troops tonight before they disband the base. At six o’ clock, here in the commissary. She glanced around to watch Lois’ staff already folding up tables and stacking chairs. “Gerry said Solo felt bad about not giving me an interview, so he invited us to cover his address.”
She looked down at the bulky looking camera sitting on the table next to Gary. It wasn’t his usual still camera.. “Is that for video? Where’d you get it?”
“Chip gave it to me,” Gary said. “Said this was going to be a speech for the history books and stills wouldn’t cut it. Little guy has a taste for the dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Sounds like it. Take a couple of stills, too, just in case Billy Church wants something for the magazine.” She gestured toward the camera. “Could come in handy in L.A. though. Maybe Chip will gift it to you. He won’t need it in Australia.” Ready to leave, she halted for a moment. “Oh, and before I forget: Billy is paying for a private flight to get us to California. LAX is gone of course, but we can still land in San Francisco and grab a hummer. We leave tomorrow morning from Anchorage.”
Gary hesitated. He knew they were supposed to be objective, but… “Some of the crew from here are heading that way, too. To help out wherever they can. Do we have room?”
“I have no idea.” She considered for a moment. “Let me ask Billy and see what he says. I guess it depends upon what kind of plane he sends, who wants to come, and whether or not we can trade a ride for exclusive eyewitness interviews. I’ll let you know.”
Gary gave her a lazy thumbs up and went back to examining the video camera. He wanted to be sure he got this right.
“Okay, see you back here at about 5:45. Later —”
****
At quarter to six, Vinnie Sandler returned with Gary to a packed commissary. Even with 50 people and no chairs or tables, there wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver, so she decided to remain next to the back wall, near the door. It would give Gary a better position to shoot his photos and video, offering him a wide-angle for his lens.
Jack Palmer and Dana Richardson were handling crowd control, making sure that everyone could, at least, squeeze through the door.
At exactly six on the overhead clock, Solo appeared, accompanied as always, with Gerry Diamond at his side. The crowd parted politely, offering him a clear path to the front of the room. There was no podium of course, but Don Duncan had centered a stand-up mike which Solo tested before attempting to use it.
He glanced around the room. So many of those present were people he not only met when he and Lilah had arrived almost three years ago, but had interacted with personally almost every single day.
There was Jeff and Bruno, who’d first encountered Quinn and Snake Plissken, and Don Duncan and his son Tim, who'd rescued Adam when Danny Connelly had abandoned the baby during his escape. There was Lois and her cafeteria crew, and Mitch, Annie and their few remaining personnel from the infirmary. Lyle, still in a wheelchair, with Lilah beside him, holding a sleeping Adam, and nearby, Chip, Rachel and Ken, who would be headed with the treatment samples and the files to Australia. Scattered through the crowd were other familiar faces and of course, Snake and Marty — his son, he reminded himself — with Vinnie and Gary in the back and Jack and Dana supervising the door. Even Reverend Wayne Wesley, who’d avoided them since Seattle, came to listen.
So many sets of hopeful, expectant eyes directed toward him, much like they’d been at Christmas, and at the Northern Lights gathering on May Day, and at the barbeque at the beginning of the summer. There was only one important person missing — his friend, brother and partner — who, in some sense, had made this day possible.
Mission accomplished.
Solo tried not to think about it. He cleared his throat, and began to speak:
“First, I would like to thank you for your loyalty, your service, your camaraderie and friendship, and your incredible efforts. I cannot begin to describe how grateful I am to you all. For those who offered security, maintenance and sustenance for all of us, every day, and provided the best of care for our illnesses and injuries and, not so incidentally, occasionally saved our lives — thank you. And please think of me, as I will, always and forever, think of all of you.”
Solo paused, waiting for the reactions that rumbled through the gathering, to settle down. Then, he continued:
“But now, the time has come to say farewell.
“As you go out into the world again, you must remember where you came from, even if you don’t know yet where you are headed. Where we all are headed.
“This may be the end of the beginning, but we are a long way from the beginning of the end.
“There is still a hard and dangerous road ahead. It will require a lot of work, a lot of hope, and yes, even a lot of faith.
“But what you do have to take with you on your journey, is the truth. A truth that you all know, but that many everywhere else, have still not yet heard.
“So, when people you meet wonder about the past, tell them the truth.
“When they ask how the world became as it did, tell them the truth.
“When they ask who we were, what we did, and why we did what we did, tell them the truth.
“When they ask why what happened, happened, tell them the truth …”
Lilah felt a nervous quiver run through her limbs as he spoke. From their first day here, she suspected what the people at Epsilon thought: She’s besotted with him. She worships him. She loves his power, His body. What he does to her in the dark… But none of them ever understood the thing that drew her to him from the very first moment: His commitment. That single quality that remained imperishable despite everything that fate had put in his path to stop him. Her world had been full of people that life had vanquished, she among them. But not Napoleon. He was a miracle. She knew it from the start.
“... But most importantly, when they ask about the future, about what they need to do to make this world a better, cleaner, safer, more livable, more equal, and more peaceful place for their sons and daughters, for their families and friends, for all their loved ones, everyone, everywhere, tell them the truth.”
Solo looked toward the Reverend Wesley. “Remember that Christ once told his followers, the truth would set them free.
“You know the truth. Don’t be afraid to tell it —”
Suddenly, before Solo could add another word, a voice cut him off, shouting from the front right side of the crowd. It was a young male voice, roaring with anger. “The truth is, you cause only destruction and death.”
In response, Gerry, who’d been standing off to the side, looked over and saw an automatic come up with the barrel pointing to where Solo was standing.
“And now, I’ll cause yours!”
Without another thought, Gerry broke from position, racing across the makeshift stage toward Solo, to push him out of harm’s way. But the sound of gunfire rang out and the bullet was faster, catching Gerry in the back of the head and propelling her forward like the force of a giant fist. Blood spouted from under her loose long hair as she fell face down.
The crowd, in shock, seemed to inhale a loud, collective breath. Lilah screamed and threw the baby into Annie’s arms. She began to push her way to the front of the crowd.
“What the hell?” Vinnie Sandler shouted and her head jerked sideways to Gary, who’d been using the video camera to film the gathering and Solo’s speech. “Are you getting this?”
Gerry’s plummeting body took Solo by surprise as two more shots were fired, slamming into his chest and rocking him backward, blood bursting forth in scarlet geysers. His eyes rolled, his legs trembled and gave out, allowing his body to crumble backward and sideways to the floor, ending up a foot or two behind Gerry’s.
“Motherfucker!” Snake hissed. His heart tugged at him to go to Gerry, but his instincts were stronger. He found the automatic at his back and pulled it free, firing three well-placed shots in succession into the chest of the shooter — Marty Williams. Williams was slammed against a column and slid down to a sitting position on the linoleum, blood oozing from his chest.
Now, the commissary erupted into shrieking chaos. Lilah was still screaming, shoving her way to Napoleon’s side, dropping to her knees beside his unmoving body. “NO! NO! NO!” she howled, cradling his bloodied face in her hands. Her fingers pressed against his neck, searching for a pulse.
“Miiitcch!” she wailed. “Help him!! Please, God, help him!!!”
Jack and Dana rocketed from their positions at the doorway, trying to get the crowd to settle and leave. “This way, folks,” Palmer ordered at the top of his lungs, while Dana tried valiantly to usher them out. “C’mon, c’mon! Give way to Medical! Let them do their job!”
Mitch was at Lilah’s side instantly. “Move over,” he ordered harshly. She was blocking his way. He knelt down and gingerly moved aside Solo’s ragged shirt. Blood coated his unmoving chest. He re-checked the pulse, and lifted his eyelids.
The gathering was breaking up and obeying Jack’s commands, all except Vinnie with Gary beside her, straining from her position by the back wall to hear the exchange between Mitch and Lilah.
“I’m sorry, Florence,” he said. “There’s nothing we can do here.” He turned to take her in his arms but she shoved him away.
“NO. That’s not true. You have to do something. SOMETHING!” Her hands fluttered over the blood that covered her husband, and then with a heartrending roar of anger, she lay her head against his chest, sobbing in agony.
Only a few feet away, Snake Plissken, his own rage spent, dropped to the floor beside Gerry Diamond. Remembering the horror of a nightmare from months ago, he lifted her into his lap, cradling her bloody head, his trembling fingers trailing through crimson-coated strands of hair.
“Is he dead?” Sandler called out, but then tempered the level of her voice so as not to interfere with the sounds captured by the video tape. Abruptly, she felt her arm being grabbed and turned to face Dana Richardson. “You heard Palmer,” the black security officer said sternly, “Let’s go.”
Vinnie pulled back. “But is he dead? Is she dead?”
“Looks like it,” Dana replied angrily, now dragging the journalist with an iron grip locked on her upper arm. “And if you don’t start moving, I might shoot you, too!”
“But who was that guy?” Vinnie obviously wasn’t referring to Plissken. “Wasn’t he the limo driver who piloted the plane? From Seattle?”
“Yeah.”
“But what the hell? Why —?”
“He told us his mother worked for U.N.C.L.E.”
“So, he shoots the last U.N.C.L.E. agent on earth?! Why?!”
They’d reached the corridor, with Epsilon personnel streaming out around them, everyone headed toward the exit of the complex. Who knew how many more armed gunmen were around? Although no more shots were fired, everyone was nervous that this might be the beginnings of a larger assault.
“He said something about HQ getting blown up when his mother was in it,” Jack interrupted, doing his own version of traffic direction and control. “It had something to do with New York Max. You’ll have to ask Snake for the details.”
Outside, in the pleasant summer evening, the crowd milled about breaking into smaller groups, as they waited to see what would happen next. No other shots were fired, no one was attacking the base, so they all waited for some announcement or instructions on what to do next.
“Mitch better get out here soon,” Jack muttered to Dana. Jeff and Bruno had been recruited back into security service. “They’re getting jittery.”
He’d barely finished when the door swung open and Jackson Mitchell, his shirt front and sleeves smeared with blood, stepped out. He looked at the crowd of people with sympathy.
“Sorry, all,” he said. “They’re both gone.” He glanced behind him to the entrance leading to the corridor and the room where the bodies lay. “And the fucking assassin too, though I didn’t waste much time on him.” He paused, shaking his head slightly. “Go on and get out of here, now. It’s over. All of it. Over.”
Reacting to the murmurs of the gathering, Jack joined Mitch at the entrance. “You can stay the night folks,” he announced. “We’ll be closing up the base tomorrow.”
Nearby, Dana still had a grip on Vinnie Sandler. “I want to see the bodies,” the journalist demanded.
“Are you kidding? Didn’t you see poor Miz Solo? You’re going to do that to her? That commissary is off-limits...”
“Then what about the security camera footage?”
“No cameras in the commissary. People don’t like to be photographed while they’re eating.” She released Sandler, then held up her index finger as a warning. “Stay here. I’m going to see if they need any help. With Gerry gone, I’m head of security now.”
“Can you get Snake Plissken for me? I want to talk to him.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
With that, Dana cut her way through the crowd and joined Jack. “I’m going inside. Sandler wants to talk to Snake.”
Palmer snorted. “Good luck with that. I doubt he wants to talk to her.”
“Well, he’d better. I’m going in to help. You can stay out here.”
Palmer nodded. As Dana left him, he checked his watch. They only had two hours left until the plane took off.
****
There was a back door that led from the kitchen to an outside loading dock that, in the days when this was an active military base, was used for deliveries of food and supplies. Snake made his way there, looking for isolation and the quiet.
Annie had taken over care of Lilah. He’d surrendered her to the med tech after the woman had offered, grateful to leave her with someone she trusted. The sound of her screams echoed in his head and the weight of Gerry’s unmoving body lingered as a sense memory in his limbs. He dropped heavily to the concrete platform and lit a cigarette with hands that were still a bit shaky.
“Nice shooting, Plissken,” Vinnie Sandler greeted him. She’d abandoned Gary by the front entrance to snap photos and then circled around the building, looking for another unlocked or unguarded entrance.
“Fuck off,” Snake said, dragging on the smoke.
“Just tell me something about the guy you just killed. It was that limo driver, right? Jack said it was connected to New York Max and I should ask you about it.” As she drew closer, she tipped her chin toward his chest. “What’s that on your shirt?”
Snake looked down at himself. Small red clumps dotted the smears on his shirt. His hands were covered with blood. A few strands of long, jet-black hair stuck to them. He met Vinnie's eyes with an icy cold stare.
“Looks like brains,” he said numbly. Another drag. The woman was a ghoul. All her kind were. Maybe, if he gave her what she wanted, she’d go away. “Yeah,” he said, without any trace of emotion. “He was part of the Seattle Resistance, so he said. After New York, Solo had to make this phone call. Arrange for a pickup. But when he did that, the bad guys traced it back to the source. Flushed it out and killed everyone there.”
He paused to take another drag and looked at Vinnie to see if she was enjoying the story. “And from there, they traced all the other cells and killed all of them, too. And I guess this Marty fucker’s momma was in one of them.”
“Ah. So it was revenge for getting his mother killed. Okay, that makes sense.” She shook her head sadly. “I’m really sorry you lost Ms. Diamond. She seemed like a great person. As was Napoleon —”
And his partner, she almost added. So much loss. “I expect Lilah must be a basket case. If you see her, give her my sympathy. I liked her a lot, too.”
Snake tipped his head to her in exaggerated politeness. He stood up and ground out the cigarette. “Sure thing.” he said coldly. And then left her to head back inside. The plane would be leaving soon and he needed to be on it.
****
It didn’t surprise Wayne Wesley that the crowd gathered around him at Epsilon’s small cemetery was much, much larger than at the last service he performed here. That one had been for two people who’d followed a different path. One that could only have led to pain and sadness.
He stood gazing at the three mounds of freshly-dug earth, crosses with hastily painted names: Gerry Diamond, Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin, pounded into the dirt at the heads of two of them. So, they felt that Solo’s Russian partner, who had detonated the Seattle bomb, was worthy of a cross, but not the man who had caused today’s carnage. But Wayne wondered if any of the souls interred here were deserving. Certainly all of them had caused death in one way or another. It was their choices that brought them to such a sad and pointless ending. Each of them had the potential for so much more. But that would be something for him to consider in private, on another day, in prayer. Today was for closure and, if he could find any, hope.
“I know you are all preparing for departure and so I appreciate your time here. This is not the way I had hoped my time with you all would end,” he began, searching out the crowd for familiar faces. Jack Palmer was in front of the crowd, stepping into the role of leader as expected. Snake Plissken, on the other hand, stood on the fringes of the crowd as if getting closer to the palpable emotion would suffocate him. Lilah, between Palmer and the Doctor, held her child against her shoulder, her eyes reddened and puffy, glazed and lifeless.
“God gives us free will,” he said. “Free will to make our own choices. Choices are what brought each of these souls to this moment,” he said. “And, with their free will, in one way or another, they all chose service.”
Leaning on his shovel, Palmer listened while he looked down at the three graves. There hadn’t really been enough time for him and Dana to dig three new ones. So, they settled for putting a cross for Gerry next to Claudia, and matching Marty with Danny, who’d just been a pile of bones anyway. They gave the single grave to Solo and added Illya’s name to the cross. It seemed fitting for the partners to be united in death as they were in life. And next to Solo’s cross was the one for his miscarried son, a small grave that the Boss had dug himself.
“Our sad, confused young shooter believed he was acting in service to his mother when he chose to act on the justice he felt she deserved. Sadly, his option only added more pain and loss to the world.
“Ms. Diamond -– Gerry — our Native-American security chief, chose service to this group — her tribe. The people she respected and loved, whom she spent every moment of the day protecting. In the end, she gave her life in that service. I didn’t know her well, but I don’t think she would be disappointed with that legacy.”
He sought out Lilah, hoping to make eye contact. Their last conversation had been tense and Solo’s death now appeared to be what Wayne had warned them of: God’s response to the drastic gesture in Seattle. But that wasn’t the message he wanted to leave her with.
“Napoleon Solo, long ago, chose service to humanity, to the world itself. I’ve come to understand that commitment to this choice was not always easy to maintain. It asked much of him and often rewarded him with pain and despair for his efforts. Sometimes, his prize for success was simply another impossible challenge to meet. The battles he won did not always outweigh the ones he lost. And he was never allowed to forget those losses, not even for a single day,” he said, recalling the vision of Solo’s scars.
“As he and I just yesterday discussed: whether or not his choices on how to end his battle with what he considered evil were justified is not our judgement to make. ‘Above our pay grade,’ we agreed. It’s also above all our pay grades to speculate on whether today’s tragedy is punishment, reward or none of the above. We owe him, and his partner, our respect for their bravery, tenacity and unbreakable commitment. But mostly we owe them for making those damnable choices the rest of us shun, especially the ones that risk their lives and their immortal souls. The world is a poorer place without them.
“May God bless them and all of you, now and in whatever future awaits you.”
Lilah couldn’t help the tears that streamed down her cheeks. The words were lovely and kind, and she appreciated the effort he’d taken to find something beautiful and truthful to say. She made her way toward him to offer him her thanks.
“Thank you, Wayne,” she said. “For everything. We were lucky to know you. Where will you be going from here? Back to your congregation?”
“No, there seems to be a rather substantial group heading to Los Angeles to volunteer to help. I’ve been invited by the doctor to join them, providing I keep my ‘sacerdotal mumbo-jumbo to myself.’ He smiled. “Should be a lively ride.”
Vinnie Sandler, who stood behind Mitch, tapped him on the shoulder. “Do you want to take that van all the way to California, or do you want to come with us?” She motioned to Gary next to her. “We’ll be headed for L.A. too, and we have a plane waiting tomorrow in Anchorage. They tell me we can fit another half-dozen passengers.”
Mitch narrowed his eyes. He knew Annie and the others would appreciate it but he wasn’t sure he could tolerate even a short flight with the voracious reporter. “On behalf of the group, I accept,” he said finally. Let her tell the world his story now, if she cared to. He had nothing to fear any longer.
“You can have my room tonight,” Rachel Zimmerman said as she joined Chip. He was hefting the steel briefcase.
“Leave anything in that computer?” Vinnie asked.
“Nope. Wiped the hard drive clean and crashed the system. But I copied all the virus files and the ones you’ll need from File 40. We left a flash drive on your bed.”
“Thanks," Vinnie responded with mild surprise.
“Make sure you use them to do what Mr. Solo said,” Ken Sloan chimed in. “Tell the truth.”
“Always,” she responded. “That’s my job. After all this, I might even write a book.”
Dana Richardson started to cry. She couldn’t help it. “I’m going to miss them so much,” she said as Jack put an arm gently around her shoulder.
“I will, too. But they’ll be in a better place.”
Lilah buried her face against the baby’s neck. Snake looked quickly away from them and took Lilah’s arm. “Ready?” he asked. He looked back, his mouth in a tight line. “Meet you at the plane?” he said to Jack.” Palmer nodded, releasing Dana so he could ram their shovels, upright, into the ground as they passed.
“Headed there now,” Chip announced, barely suppressing his anticipation. Australia! And back at university, again. Saving the world. He waved toward Lyle in his wheelchair. “Somebody better roll our pilot in.”
The young Texan smiled. ”I’ll walk. Be sittin’ for the next 20 hours, I expect.”
A small group broke away from the larger one and made their way toward the hangar.
“You got everything on board?” Snake asked Lilah, as he walked beside her.
“Everything I need,” she said. She realized suddenly that she was shaking and to her surprise, Snake took hold of her free hand.
“We can do this,” he told her, feeling a not-unpleasant ripple of nervous energy himself. “Long way from Helsinki, huh?”
She almost smiled. “You know it.”
As they reached the hangar, Jack turned to give Lilah a hug and shake Plissken’s hand. “Have a safe trip and good luck to you all.”
“Keep all the bad guys out of Alaska,” Snake said to him and Dana.
“We’ll certainly do our best.” Jack tipped his chin toward the plane. “Oh, by the way, you’ll find that teddy bear we gave you for the kid for Christmas sitting in a seat.”
Then, waving to the group, Palmer went inside to open the hangar, while Dana embraced everyone else, one by one.
Mitch and Annie ambled in, adding their good wishes. Lilah handed Adam over to his surrogate grandmother for the last time. Annie’s soft babytalk brought tears to her eyes as she blessed him and wished him well.
Lilah turned to Mitch. She always knew this was going to be hard, but she was already crying.
“Never mind, Florence,” he chided her gently. “You’ll be fine without me. Willful and stubborn, bossy and hot-tempered. Not even my medical chops could cure that.” He cupped her face and kissed her forehead, wiping her tears.
“Please look out for yourself,” she whispered, through sobs.
He nodded. “Go on now. You have to get on that plane.” He smiled wryly at her. “Because you sure as fuck are not coming with me.” Lilah laughed. She hugged Annie gratefully and took Adam back from her. Not looking back, she waited her turn to board the plane.
With the hangar door raised, the Challenger waited.
“Seems like just yesterday we parachuted in,” Vinnie Sandler said, turning to Gary as she watched the plane door open and the stair ramp drop. The group began to board with Lyle in the lead. “I can’t believe Solo’s really gone.” And Illya. She had so hoped to see him again.
“Hell of a story,” Gary said. “To live and to write. You got him, Vinnie. In the end, Solo trusted you with it.”
“Damn straight. And I'm going to tell it all.”
Lilah was the last to board. She glanced at the cockpit, saw Lyle in the pilot’s seat, and smiled. He’d recovered enough to handle this. All over the plane, the window shades were pulled down, leaving the inside dark and shadowed. There was a baby carrier all buckled into one of the seats, right next to the giant teddy bear. She settled Adam next to it securely.
Then, from somewhere in the rear of the cabin, a familiar voice, liquid and baritone, greeted her:
“Hello, darling. Welcome aboard.”
****
Seven hours earlier.
At the security station, Snake paced behind Gerry, his stomach churning. If Gerry’s suspicions about Solo were legit —- and when were they not? — there was a crisis of conscience going on outside that would devastate them all. Which made him wonder why they were all still inside. They should intervene before it was too late. If talking didn’t do it, then someone needed to knock the Old Man out cold and give him time to come to his senses.
Snake remembered the calm look on Kuryakin’s face as he prepared to finish up his purpose on earth. The Russian thought of death as a release he’d earned, and there was nothing to keep him here, anyway. But with Solo, it was different. Solo did have things to live for. But this time, the shit had piled on him so deep, he couldn’t see through it. Seattle. The virus. And now L.A. If it was true that no good deed went unpunished, then the reward for this one was a thorough ass-fucking. Snake wasn’t denying Solo had a case to make for checking out. But the truth for him was simple: he didn’t want Solo to die.
Gerry watched Snake, glancing nervously to the door every so often. “I hope she can stop him,” she said, voicing her thoughts aloud. “I hope he’ll listen to her.”
“He usually does,” Snake said weakly. But peace and the end of pain was a siren call that maybe even Lilah couldn’t counter. He put a hand on Gerry’s shoulder, and hoped he wasn’t waiting for a scream and the crack of a gunshot.
After a few more tense moments, the complex’s door swished open and Solo and Lilah stepped through. Her eyes were reddened and wet with tears. His were, too. Plissken squeezed Gerry’s shoulder tightly.
“Where are you off to?” Lilah was asking, as if nothing of consequence had just gone down. If not for the automatic she held in her hand, you might have thought they’d only been out for a mid-morning walk.
Gerry saw that Solo was still alive, saw the gun in Lilah’s grasp, and exchanged a subtle glance with Snake.
Crisis averted. For now.
“The apartment, to pack,” Solo replied. “If you want to check on Lyle later, I can stop by for Adam on my way and bring him with me. Might be a good reminder of what we need to take with us.”
“His stuff alone will fill that cargo hold,” Lilah said. Their infant didn’t really have much, but it felt like it. ”Yeah, that’s good. I’ll catch up with you there.”
Solo leaned down and planted a light kiss on her cheek. Then, he looked across the console, and cocked an eyebrow at Gerry. She could read the expression on his face: Didn’t follow orders, did you?
The security chief shrugged guiltily, and mouthed a sincere, Sorry.
Solo rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he was smiling a bit as he left.
Lilah waited a moment until Solo was out of sight. She handed the gun to Gerry. “Make sure this gets on the plane, okay?” she asked with a deep sigh.
“Problem solved?” Plissken asked.
“I don’t know, Snake. Is yours?” Lilah snapped back, remembering their own chat at that very same table just days before. “Multiply that by a few million. He feels responsible for L.A.” That was all the explanation they needed to know.
Snake held up his hands to ward off her venom, understanding it. “Take it easy. I get it.”
Just then, Chip appeared, accompanied by Marty. “He ain’t dead, right?”
Lilah glared at him, putting all her fear and frustration into it. That boy had only enough tact to match his height.
“No,” Gerry replied with obvious relief. She tucked the U.N.C.L.E Special into a drawer under the console counter.
“See, I told you!” Marty let out a breath and Chip pointed in his direction. “He’s been worried. So, we figured if anyone would know, it’d be Gerry.”
“Who ain’t dead?” Jack Palmer asked, coming from the direction of the garage, his gait still slow with a noticeable limp.
“Napoleon,” Lilah said. “But he’s convinced he won’t be free and none of us will be safe unless he is.”
“Well, he has a point,” Jack conceded. “And we won’t be around in Australia to protect him.”
“I’ll be there,” Chip reminded him.
“Yeah, but only for the virus, You can’t protect his ass.”
Snake was sitting now, dragging on a cigarette thoughtfully. “Guess he needs to die, then,” he said, not looking at any of them.
Lilah swore. “What the hell —? That’s not funny.”
He finally looked over to meet her angry gaze. “Didn’t mean it to be.”
Marty stared at Plissken. “Ohhhkay?”
Jack didn’t know what to say, but having dealt with Plissken for some months now, he doubted that Snake was suggesting a real option. “You got an idea?”
“Another heart attack?” Chip suggested, but Gerry shook her head. “Won’t be convincing enough.”
“Assassination would be.” Snake looked from Gerry to Jack with the hint of a smile. “One that our visiting reporter could witness?”
Now Lilah was interested. She wasn’t sure she could persuade Napoleon to go along with such a plan, but if she could convince him it was best for not just him, but their son and even the virus research…
“We have blood in the infirmary that would make it look real enough.” They’d be leaving it behind to waste, otherwise.
“But it can’t be just him,” Gerry added, thinking. “It needs to be more like —”
“A bloodbath?” Chip chuckled.
“Well, at least with more people involved,” Jack observed.
“Like me. Everyone knows I protect him.”
Plissken stiffened slightly. “Do we have enough blanks to pull this off? Too risky otherwise,” he said. Even the idea of Gerry pretending to die did not sit well with him.
Jack thought for a moment. “Not something we keep around, but cartridges can be converted. I’ll bet Jacque can make us a couple of dummy projectiles, too. He can use wax. We used to make them when I was a SEAL— as practical jokes. They use them on movie sets, too.” He looked around. “We’ll need a shooter and someone to take him down. Unfortunately, it can’t be you, Gerry.”
Snake shrugged at Palmer. “I’m leaving the country. No follow-up questions.”
“I can be the shooter,” Marty said, speaking up for the first time. “If that journalist investigates later, I’ll even have a legitimate motive. When Mr. Solo came out of New York Max, he made a phone call that accidentally alerted Thrush and they destroyed HQ. My mother worked there.”
Lilah looked up to meet his eyes. This was the exact story Napoleon had just told her. Instead of anger and a thirst for revenge, Marty was volunteering to turn his own sadness into justification for this ruse. She wished Napoleon was present to hear it. Maybe that would have convinced him his life was worth holding onto.
Snake was not so moved. Suspicion was second nature to him. Had Marty’s entire presence here been a ruse in itself? Did he worm his way into Epsilon’s inner circle to accomplish exactly what he’d offered them as a solution to Solo’s problem?
“Wait a minute. Are you saying Solo killed your mother?” Snake asked, remembering that exact phone call. “So, why would you help with this? Why wouldn’t you want to see him dead?”
“Thrush killed my mother,” Marty corrected him, defiantly. “And they almost killed my father, too. But I hear you saved him. Been meaning to thank you for that.”
Confusion and frank surprise crossed Snake’s face and it was matched by the others.
“Whoa,” Chip murmured, joined by Jack’s, “Holy shit.”
Lilah smiled at Marty as Plissken did the math and finally found his voice. “Solo’s your old man?”
“Yes, Snake,” Lilah interrupted. “We will have 20 hours on a plane to tell all the stories. Right now, we need to make this plan work.”
“So, be careful how you shoot me,” Marty observed with a grin, “because we still need to fly that plane together.”
“You realize this will create an utter madhouse,” Gerry observed.
“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “I’ll recruit Dana and fill her in on what’s going down. We’ll handle it —”
Suddenly, Chip broke in on the conversation. “Shhh… here comes that photographer.”
“I thought he was in the computer room with Rachel and Ken,” Gerry said. “They were supposed to keep those reporters occupied.”
“Well, he was —-”
Snake thought back to Littlefield’s first visit to Epsilon. To their poker game and the night they’d spent together in the tent, drinking and getting comfortable with each other. Littlefield had revealed then he had no great love or respect for the USPF and didn’t even share Sandler’s objectivity. Maybe they could convince him to record their assassination for the news media. If he wanted to play along. And if he could keep his mouth shut around Vinnie.
“Hey Cameraman,” Snake said. “Want an exclusive?”
Gary joined the group, scanning the faces around him. They were either neutral or wary and he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d just stumbled into. Cautiously, he said. “Uh, maybe… Shouldn’t Vinnie be here?”
Lilah understood what Snake was thinking. “No, Gary. Just you. And we need your word you will never tell her. Is that something you can do?”
“I don’t know. What is it?”
Snake shook his head. “Need your word first.”
“Will it harm her? Her reputation? Her credibility?”
“Not if it works,” Lilah said.
“Okay, then. What’s the story?”
Snake smiled like his namesake.
“Solo’s murder.”
Next to him, Chip leaned in and asked slyly, “Ever shoot footage with a video camera?”
****
Lilah returned to find the infirmary a chaotic mess. Boxes were stacked in the corridor and inside the door, more boxes waited, half-filled. She felt a twinge of melancholy. This had been her home for the last three years; her refuge in this fucked up world, where at least she could do some good. Now that was all going to change…
“Yard sale?” she asked teasingly as she entered Mitch’s office where he was sitting behind the desk.
He looked up as she entered, and she smiled thinking how she would miss seeing those glasses perched at the end of his nose.
“I’m taking the kids on a field trip,” he said. “Figured I’d bring what we are going to abandon and see if they can use it — and us — down in L.A.” He looked up at her. “I don't figure they’ll be too picky about legalities until after the dust settles.”
Lilah’s heart swelled. So, he would be practicing some kind of medicine after all. “I’m glad,” she said, tearing up.
“Turn off the waterworks, Florence. You must have something better to do than sit here and get all verklempt over my salvation.”
Lilah shut the door behind her. “I actually do,” she said. “One last procedure I need you to do.”
Mitch didn’t look up, continuing to cross out items on the papers. “Yeah, what? Somebody out there get a splinter?”
“I need you to pronounce three people dead.”
Now Mitchell did look up. “You killed three people?” he deadpanned. “Let me guess… The little guy, right? I see how he gets on your nerves.” He took his glasses off completely and stared at her. “My dear, what the hell are you talking about?”
So she sat down and explained the idea to him, watching his eyebrows rise with each point of the plan, including Solo’s close call earlier that morning.
“That ungrateful sonofabitch,” Mitch swore, covering up his concern with sarcasm as always. “After everything I’ve done to save his life …”
Lilah slumped in the chair, emotional exhaustion catching up with her. Mitch was not only her colleague but her friend, confessor and shrink. What was she going to do without him?
“So, what do you think?” she asked. “Can we do it?”
“Worth a try. Toss that wolf of a reporter some juicy red meat. She might just buy it. Can you trust her sidekick, though?”
Lilah half-shrugged, half-nodded. “I think so. I hope so. He’s not like her. Snake says he has his own reasons to keep the confidence. And think of the footage he’ll get.”
Mitch began to seriously consider the plan. “Well, we have blood left in storage that’s close to expired, so that should work. Doubt they’ll call a forensics team in to match types. You could rig them to pop open under pressure, if the fake shells hit them, or even just pressing on them.”
“And then you pronounce everyone dead. We can ‘bury’ the bodies — Jack is redigging Claudia and Danny’s graves to look fresh right now.”
Mitchell snorted. “Looks like those two might be good for something after all.” He paused. “So what does the deceased think about all this?”
Lilah smiled weakly. “That’s my next bridge,” she said. The clock on the wall and her own body were telling her it was nearly time to feed Adam. She would tell Napoleon their plan and pray he agreed.
Almost on cue, Solo pushed open the infirmary door, with Adam tucked and dozing on his shoulder. “I think someone’s hungry,” he told Lilah. “He only stopped complaining when I started to walk the corridor.”
The picture never failed to tug at her heart. She couldn’t bear to think that there may not be more in the future. Napoleon had to agree to their plan. He had to.
“Lets go home,” she said, standing up and taking his arm. “We need to talk.”
He looked at her quizzically. “Alright,” he agreed and checked his watch. In a few hours, he’d be due in the commissary.
****
Present Time, 9 p.m.
Lilah threw her arms around Napoleon’s neck and clung to him. Now her tears were of joy and she was reluctant to let him go. She’d spent the day pretending he was dead and the make-believe sorrow had permeated deep into her heart.
Solo wrapped his own arms around her and smiled. “I hope my funeral went well.”
A few steps behind her, Snake stood before Gerry. He locked eyes with her, touching a hand to her face and stroking her cheek with his thumb. Their ruse had been too real for him, too easy to imagine such a bleak and empty future. His relief was like a wash of cool, clean rain. She was here. She was safe. They were safe. He drew her against him, burying his face in her hair.
As the Challenger rolled out of the hangar and found the single runway for take-off, Marty Williams maneuvered around the rest of the group and leaned into the cockpit. “Need a co-pilot?” he asked Lyle.
Plissken turned to the cockpit. “Sorry, man.”
“S’okay. You’re busy,” Marty called out to Plissken, as he slipped into the seat.
Lyle had turned pale. “OH, Hell, no!” he exclaimed. “Are you shittin’ me? What —?”
“Yeah, they’re all still here!” Chip confirmed, chuckling, as Rachel and Ken found seats by one of the shaded windows. “You ain’t hallucinating.”
After recovering from Snake’s greeting, Gerry was laughing, too. “C’mon Lyle. We need to get out of here. Pronto!” She paused. “Or as they say in Australia: we gotta nick off!” She looked at Snake. “Been studying’ up.” She wondered if she’d been able to get all the blood out of her hair. Her scalp still felt itchy. The shower had been a quick one, but Snake didn’t seem to mind.
He was still kind of a mess, too, with blood stains on his shirt. She fingered a dried clump that was greyish rather than red.. “Ummm… what’s that?”
Snake offered her a smug smile. “Your brains, Baby.” He shrugged. “Oatmeal from the kitchen. Sandler bought it, though.”
He grinned at her, switching seats with Marty. “Lyle, man, get up. Marty’s going to fly us,” he said.
“C’mon, Boss, I can’t get her through take-off at least. I’m getting rusty just sitting.”
Snake looked to Marty, who shrugged. “No problem. Lyle can do the honors. We have plenty of hours ahead.”
Nearly giddy, Lyle whooped aloud and guided the Challenger along the runway.
Lilah wished she could open a shade and gaze out at the place that had been her home for the last three years. At their arrival, an army base was the last place on earth she ever expected to be again. But instead of old memories of war and death, this base had given her a new life of purpose and community and family.
“Jesus!” Snake swore as the plane left the ground. “Did you hear fucking Palmer?” he asked back to the group. ‘“They’ll be in a better place?’”
“Yeah,” Chip said. “I almost threw up my lunch!”
“I shoulda shot him long ago,”Plissken laughed.
As the Challenger began to climb, in the back of the plane, Solo sat comfortably with Lilah in his arms. “So, did it work? Did Vinnie buy it?”
“Looked like she did. I think we’d know if she didn’t. She’d be hiding in a wheel well.” She looked at her son, safely buckled and dozing in the seat opposite, content. They were all content. At last.
“Would you like to hear what Wayne said about you?” she asked Solo.
“Did he call me the anti-Christ? I assume that’s what I’ll be labeled in the near future.”
“Especially if that God First guy gets elected,” Chip observed.
“No,” Lilah said, finally able to express her surprise. After their last encounter, that’s what she had expected too. “Wayne said we had to thank you — and Illya — for making the choices that are too dangerous or damnable for the rest of us to make. And he said that it was no one’s place but God’s to judge those choices.”
“Well, I hope he’s right about that. With this virus —.”
“Oh, we’ll be working on it,” Chip cut in again. “You’ll get better; you’ll see.”
“And under a different name, too,” Rachel added, distributing new identification cards around the cabin.
“One for you —” She handed a card to Solo who read it aloud. “Lee Newman.” New-man. He understood the in-joke.
“ — And one for you.” The next card was Lilah’s and read: Kathleen Newman.
She looked at it, feeling sad. She liked her name, was proud of it, proud of who it connected her to. But Napoleon was worried that his name would put her in danger and she’d promised to respect that worry. She looked at him.
“Can I still be Dee Dee?” she asked.
“Always. At least, for me.” Solo kissed her and pressed her close against him.
“Okay, then,” she said. “Hello, Kate Newman.”
“It was really hard to stay quiet, Mrs. Newman, with you crying on my chest.”
“Just imagining you dead was enough to break my heart,” she said soberly. “I don’t want to do that ever again.”
“And I fervently hope you won’t have to.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “But, you know, when I fell back against the floor in the commissary, I think I hit my head too hard. For a second or two, I think I went out, because I saw Illya. It was like he was standing there. And he said to me, “Mission accomplished, tovarishch. Time to go home.”
Lilah sucked in a breath. As a nurse, she knew all the medical reasons why someone would hallucinate seeing the dead during trauma. As a child of Irish grandmothers, she admitted to other possibilities as well. She stared at him.“He didn’t want you to go with him?”
“I don’t think so. He just smiled, and then, he faded away, and I felt you on top of me again.” Solo shrugged. “I guess it’s like you said: I’m not done yet. I’m still needed.”
“He was a very smart and wise man,” she said, winking. Solo nodded in agreement. Illya would remain embedded in his mind, heart, and soul, for the rest of his life.
A moment of quiet passed and Lilah noticed that the whole company had seemed to settle in, adjusting to their new reality.
She tilted her head up to look at Napoleon. “You should talk to Marty,” she encouraged. “He’s looking forward to it.”
Just then, as Marty passed them, Solo reached out a hand. “Hey —”
“S’okay, Dad.” He tipped his chin toward the front of the plane and smiled, knowingly. “We can talk later. At the moment, I’m needed, too.”
“Look what I found,” Chip announced, emerging from his place by the small refrigerator where the leftover treatment was being stored after transferring it from the small medication cooler. It was a champagne bottle. Completely forgotten, they’d never opened it on their way back from Seattle.
“Want to celebrate?” he asked.
“Not yet,” Solo said. “Let’s get to Australia first. We still have two fuel stops to make.”
Up at the head of the aisle, just outside the cockpit, Marty poked his head in again. “Either of you guys want a quick nap?”
LIlah had closed her eyes but spoke up. “Lyle! Give that shoulder a rest.” She grinned.
Grumbling, “Yes, ma’am,” Lyle surrendered his seat to Marty with a fist bump.
Behind them, to one side of the cabin, Gerry sat across a small pull-down table from Rachel. “Think we can bring up those shades?” the latter asked. It seemed safe now; they were over the Pacific Ocean.
From their Eastern facing window, they could see a rising half-moon and a sky clear and bright and choked with constellations.
“Second star to the right, and straight on ‘til morning,” Gerry murmured, remembering from her mother reading aloud during her childhood.
Just like in Peter Pan, they were on their way to Neverland.
****