Fight The Good Fight

By Nancy Bandusky

God is extinguished from the United States of America; annihilation rises forth under the guise of tolerance. The full effect of the ramifications of the removal of Christianity descends on Sean Atkins and his fellow believers, as well as those on the fringe. The past catches up to both sides, only to set the stage for a final confrontation. This battle, fought both in and out of the courtroom, was set in motion years ago. Once the good fight has been fought, it can be said it is finished.

This is the last book in the Challenge trilogy set in the present day United States. A romance sub-story line weaves throughout.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nancy Bandusky
• Release date: Sep 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311315564

Book preview

FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT

Nancy S. Bandusky

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 by Nancy S. Bandusky

Cover design copyright 2014 by Brent C. Bandusky

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Books by Nancy S. Bandusky

Take A Stand Book One of the Challenge Trilogy

Run The Race Book Two of the Challenge Trilogy

Fight The Good Fight Book Three of the Challenge Trilogy

Book coauthored with Dorothy A. Bandusky

Anniina Tatter - Not Just Cloth and Stuffing

Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

Author’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, locations, businesses, organizations, events and incidents are either creations of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All characters are fictional and any similarity to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

To Dorothy,

whose encouragement and enthusiasm resulted in this novel.

I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. Second Timothy 4:7

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Epilogue

Prologue

- 1917 -

The cigarette and cigar smoke combined to veil the room in a haze thick enough to conceal a man. That was actually irrelevant since he no longer felt the need to hide. It was becoming apparent that he could enter into the light, if he so desired, and in fact would at times even be welcomed there. But this was still uncharted territory; the scales could tip either way. For tonight, the boss needed to remain in the dark, just a friendly voice offering encouragement to his fellow enlightened ones.

An older gentleman to his left stumbled slightly as he pushed away from the table and stood. Raising his glass of wine toward an elegantly dressed man on the opposite side of the table, he said, Today you declared Divine law dead.

Another voice shouted, America can finally determine its own laws. Our long awaited independence is here!

The elegant man shook his head with a sigh. It was only a dissenting opinion.

Having moved unseen through the haze, the boss leaned near the elegant man. He spoke just above a whisper, causing the others to bend closer. Oliver, you are getting us there. I told you before; it will take time. But they will see what you already know: there is no absolute truth on which society can base its rules. Thus the need for you— The boss paused while in the dissipating haze he locked eyes with each man present. —as judges to formulate the law yourselves by letting it evolve slowly … case by case.

There was a nervous clearing of a throat. All heads turned toward the thin quiet man in the corner. The boss raised his eyebrows asking a wordless What?

The quiet man said, "Like Oliver said, it was a dissenting opinion. The use of common law and Blackstone’s Commentaries is so …" He paused as if searching for the correct word.

Enshrined? The boss’ voice was gruff, full of contempt. The quiet man swallowed any reply. The boss snorted a laugh. It won’t be for long. Finally society realizes there is no need for a Creator; now they will see how they themselves can create what the law will be.

After a long silence, while the room seemed to ponder the revelations, the quiet man said, But isn’t that dangerous?

Not for those of us in power, right? The elegant man nearly elbowed the boss, but quickly restrained himself.

The boss kept a wary eye on the quiet man. He knew it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t have them all fully; his handpicked successor would continue that work. But still it annoyed him that there always had to be one difficult, non-team player, even on the United States Supreme Court.

Chapter 1

- Present Day -

Jessica Miller wasn’t aware she had been staring out the window, not seeing the fields of snow, until Sean Atkins coughed and a light red splatter hit the glass. Involuntarily, Jessica shifted away from the passenger window, bumping Sean who had been leaning partly against her and partly against the back seat. He coughed again; red droplets fell onto Jessica’s arm. She stared at them, her breathing increasing. Uh, Nick … She paused, glancing at Sean, still asleep. I think we might have a problem. He’s coughing up blood.

Nick Roman, a tank of a man with the required grandfather gray hair, spun his head around, glanced at the back seat, and then quickly returned his attention to the increasing traffic. With a sigh, he said, Caleb, call the doc again. Let him know. We probably need to change plans and meet him at a hospital instead.

Jessica watched Caleb Streeter, sitting in the front passenger seat, pull out his cellular phone. When he turned and his eyes met hers, she gave her tall muscular boyfriend a smile. She couldn’t help it: his brown hair and goatee were looking a little ratty.

But nothing compared to Sean. His nearly black hair was past his shoulders, his beard—she shuddered as she looked at the blood and dirt caked in it. The gash on his left cheek was just one of the injuries she knew he was dealing with. Carefully, she shifted Sean so he wasn’t resting against her. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she leaned forward between the two front seats. But I thought the doctor agreed to meet us at Caleb’s near Big Rock. If Sean gets registered in a hospital, they’re going to find him.

Nick’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. We have to work with what we’ve been given. If he’s got internal injuries, he has to go to the hospital … Nick’s voice trailed off as Caleb started speaking into the cellular phone.

* * * *

Emma couldn’t stop smiling. She almost felt giddy. Easing herself to the edge of the living room couch in Gerald McGrainy’s small home in Naperville, Illinois, she reached down and gently stroked Hope. Just the simple touch of the collie’s fur helped to make the moment real and not a dream. She’d known Sean was alive, but now, after six long, unbearable weeks, she would be seeing him in a few hours. She was having trouble believing her prayers, all their prayers, had been answered.

I’m assuming you’ll be wanting to leave for the Streeter’s immediately. Gerald said, lifting his six-foot frame off the couch and running his hand quickly over his gray military style haircut. Although he was old enough to be Emma’s grandfather, his face was as bright as Emma was sure hers must be.

You would be correct. I’ll be ready to go in a minute. Standing, Emma felt a brief, sharp pain in her stomach. She couldn’t stop the quick Oh that escaped her lips.

Gerald hurried to her side. Are you okay? Is it the baby?

I’m fine. Taking a deep breath, Emma rubbed her expanding stomach. We’re fine. The pain was gone. I just felt a twinge getting up. Seeing the concern on Gerald’s face, she added, We’ve got a few more months before this little bugger makes an appearance. I just pulled something getting up. Not to worry, Uncle. She used the term they both cherished since they really were not related. Patting his concerned face, she added, Get me to my husband and I’ll be just fine.

* * * *

Judge Mallone slumped his hefty frame into his chair, ignoring the birds fluttering around his feeder outside the large bay window of his den. With his head in his hands, he stared at his cellular phone that he had allowed to fall to the floor after the call terminated. The call. It had been unpleasant dealing with Powers, it had been annoying taking orders from Akan, but he desired both of them back now. Anyone other than the boss. Mallone had always felt ill when he had to communicate directly with the boss. Pulling one hand from his head, he studied it, half expecting to see burn marks where he had been holding the phone.

The call hadn’t lasted long. After his distracted Hello, the unmistakable voice of the boss had informed him that it was his time. He would be forced to deal with it all, in court, in front of the media, with the world watching. Actually, the boss had only said one word. Mallone had been told to proceed. He knew what that meant. For now, he was to make sure Sean Atkins was arrested on a failure-to-appear warrant, no matter what evidence there might be that he had been imprisoned. Then later, there would be the trial … a monkey trial.

Mallone swung around and looked out the bay window. The birds were picking over the few remaining seeds in the feeder. He really needed to get out there and fill it again. Starting to rise from his chair, he slid back and settled in, tipping back slightly with his hands behind his close-cropped white hair. The call had so startled him that he hadn’t realized its real significance until now. Sean was alive. There would have been no reason to proceed if Sean was dead.

Despite the fact that would have made his life easier, Mallone was actually relieved, thankful even, that Sean was alive. Mallone wasn’t sure why. Maybe there was a little part of him, that little boy from so long ago that liked to sit on his granny’s lap and hear the Bible stories. The little boy that had once thought of entering the priesthood, but he’d chosen law instead.

That thought barely registered when a pain shot from his left arm to his chest. Panic filled his veins. There was no way the boss could read his thoughts. No way. Mallone’s eyes frantically searched the room. He was alone. He shifted uncomfortably as his chest tightened. He waited for the end; his mind no longer on old-fashioned Bible stories or the fact Sean must be alive.

Gradually the pain subsided and with it any determination to quash a warrant for Sean’s arrest. Bring him in. Let his lawyer plead the case, deny it and then ship him off. With any luck, the next courtroom circus the boss wanted wouldn’t even start until long after he was retired and drifting aimlessly on his boat. Oh, to sail away from all of this. He wondered if Judge Raulston had ever felt like this about his monkey trial.

It was decided; he would follow orders. He rubbed his left arm. It was safer that way.

* * * *

Emma’s hand trembled as she took the glass of water from Martha Streeter. Thanks. She couldn’t think of anything else to say to the plump middle-aged woman; her mind was numb. No, it was too full, processing too much. She felt Martha’s hand on her back. A sob escaped from her throat. She let go of the glass—it fell onto the counter. At the sound of the cracking glass and the sight of the leaking water, Emma turned into Martha’s open arms, burying her face against Martha’s shoulder. Her body shook as she continued to weep.

Shhh, there, there. Take it easy. It’s nearly midnight and you’ve been through the wringer. Martha leaned back, looking Emma in the face. You’re handling it all fine. Pulling Emma back into an embrace, she rubbed her back.

After several minutes, Emma stopped crying and moved to a chair at the kitchen table. It’s just … it’s just …

Martha sat next to Emma and reached for her hand. It’s a shock. We all hoped, prayed, he was alive. But to finally see him. Martha looked away for a second. Turning back toward Emma, she took a deep breath. To see what he went through. To help him get past it … will be hard. But you’re strong—

But I’m not! Emma pulled her hand away. She stood and went to the counter. Picking up the broken shards of glass, she dropped them into the trashcan that Martha held out for her. Emma pulled off a paper towel and wiped up the water. Continuing to rub the dry counter with the towel, she added, I’m not sure I can handle this.

Martha took the towel from Emma. I saw the doctor leave a few minutes ago. Did he talk to you?

Emma nodded and gave a slight shudder. Dr. Stafford got Sean settled. The I.V. is hooked up. He’s going to study all the tests he ran at that clinic in Joliet this afternoon and evening, but he said so far all he can diagnose is that Sean is dehydrated and malnourished, along with cuts and bruises. He’s pretty sure Sean has a minor concussion, but he still thinks Sean would be better off here than possibly under arrest at a hospital. He’ll be back early in the morning. I have his private number to call if there’s a problem.

He seems like a kind man. Do you know him?

Last year, when Sean was shot, he assisted in the surgery. He is, was, a friend of Jake’s. Apparently, he donates time at the run-down clinic in Joliet so it wasn’t unusual for him to be there. He had Nick, Caleb and Jessica take Sean there when they saw the blood. Emma took a deep breath. I guess Nick knows him too. I hadn’t thought of that. Shaking her head slightly, Emma continued, Fortunately that turned out to just be a cut in his mouth. From his teeth, they think. I’m not sure how come they aren’t worried about the police finding him through the clinic. Emma’s voice trailed off in thought.

Martha reached for a new glass, filling it herself. She handed it to Emma who took a sip. Jessica told me that they used an alias, claimed Sean was homeless and they were doing charity work.

Oh. Emma took another drink of the water. I’m sorry for getting so upset. I know I should be thrilled he’s here, that he’s alive.

Emma, it’s been an exhausting day. For you both. I’m sure Sean wanted to take you in his arms—

Emma turned away. Setting the glass down with great control, she leaned against the counter. You know what he said to me when we were finally alone for a few minutes? Emma didn’t wait for Martha’s reply. He said he was sorry. Emma raised her hands in exasperation. Sorry? He’s sorry?

I’m sure he feels bad for everything that you went through.

No, that’s not it. I begged him, pleaded, that he just see if Harriet will … could get him a deal. I can’t bear the thought of him going to jail, of being separated again, of raising this baby without him. I’ve already had a touch of what it would be like. We weren’t together for Christmas and his birthday … and my birthday. I don’t want to be apart for the birth. Emma turned and faced Martha, her hand resting on her expanded stomach. I know I hurt him. His eyes were so sad when I said it. I didn’t mean to, it’s just …

Martha nodded. It’s totally understandable. It’s like being a parent, so get used to it; now that he’s safe, you’re mad at him.

Emma stared at Martha and then slowly smiled. Exactly. She began to laugh; she finally felt like laughing. She gave Martha a hug. Thanks so much for letting us hide out here.

Not a problem. Happy to be able to help.

Reaching for her glass, Emma took a long drink. I was surprised Derrick was here when Gerald and I arrived this afternoon. No construction projects in the winter?

Martha shrugged and looked away. Been a little slower than normal lately.

* * * *

Sean turned his face toward the bedroom door as it hesitantly opened. Come on in, he said, seeing Emma’s face peeking in. He couldn’t get enough of the green eyes, the brown hair with auburn highlights and the long legs under her pregnant belly.

Oh, I was hoping you were resting. Emma gave a nod to Nick, who was standing at the far side of the bed. She reached for a chair and moved it next to the near side of the bed. She held Sean’s free hand that wasn’t hooked up to an intravenous drip.

Nick cleared his throat and shifted around. The doc says to keep him quiet for a few days. He’ll be back in the morning with the results of the tests.

I know. He already told me. Emma’s tone was guarded.

When is my dad supposed to get here? Sean’s voice was barely a whisper. Any additional effort took too much energy. Something he was definitely lacking. Looking back, he didn’t understand how he could have withstood all he did. He was drained now.

Emma stroked his hand. He knew the tears were still there under her hair that had fallen in front of her face. She spoke to his hand. I just can’t believe you’re really here.

Nick moved around the bed and put his arm on Emma’s shoulder. Your dad will be brought here as soon as possible. They’re on the way, ran into some snow. Probably will arrive later tomorrow. Zach Sinclair called Caleb a few minutes ago. He had to land in Denver and now nothing is leaving there because of another snowstorm. He said to tell you he’d be here as soon as he can. Nick smiled. And not to worry about any additional bail money.

There was a tap on the door and then Caleb and Jessica entered. Well, we’re all set. We’re going to drive back to Charleston.

Emma looked over at them. What about the snow?

Caleb shook his head. It’s all north of us. We’ll be fine. He stepped forward and gave Sean’s shoulder a squeeze. Now that you’re fine, we need to attend to our classes.

Or at least attend some classes. Jessica said, giving Emma a hug. But we will be back soon. Giving a flip of her short brown hair, she smiled at Sean. I’ll let Ray and Winnie know you’re okay.

Sean narrowed his eyes, thinking for a moment, and then nodded once he recalled the farm couple.

Nick put out a restraining arm when Caleb and Jessica turned toward the door. Don’t let them know where he is. No one is to know but the few we talked about.

Caleb nodded, gave a quick wave to the others and walked out holding Jessica’s hand.

When Nick returned to Sean’s bedside, Sean said, Nick, what’s going to happen with the warrant? I didn’t fail to appear. … I can’t go to jail.

Gerald, who had quietly entered the room when Caleb and Jessica left, leaned against a wall. Don’t worry about that. God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.

Sean sat up, ignoring the pain that shot up from a million points in his body. I hate that. I positively hate that. That is not Biblical.

Nick and Emma tried to get Sean to lean back again. Emma made shushing noises trying to calm Sean.

Sean resisted. ‘God doesn’t give you more than you can handle’ is a load of baloney. He does too. Look at my life. I’ve been given more than my share of hardship. God will give you more than you can handle to drive you to your knees.

Gerald stepped forward, resting a hand on one of Sean’s legs. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.

With a grimace, Sean eased back down on the bed. I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t take it anymore. Sean turned to Nick. You understand, don’t you?

I understand. God drives you to your knees and thus provides you with the way to handle it all.

Gerald reached down to tap Sean’s toes that were sticking up under the covers. That’s what I meant. I’m sorry it didn’t come out that way.

Nick looked at his watch. Sean, you’re arguing semantics and Scripture. You’re fine. I don’t need any doctor to tell me that. Gerald and Emma laughed softly.

You aren’t leaving. Sean reached his hand out. I need you here.

I’m only going to step out and make some calls. Nick patted Sean’s hand and then looked at Gerald and Emma. I’ll be back in about thirty minutes. Reaching up to lightly smack Sean on the head, Nick added, Get some rest, I’m going to need to talk to you later.

Chapter 2

Emma glanced around when the door to Martha’s guest room, now Sean’s recuperation room, opened. She kept the smile glued on her face despite the concern she felt watching Sean’s father, using a cane, make his way to the empty chair next to hers. He had aged quite a bit since the wedding. His gray hair was thinner and his entire body had taken on a frail appearance. Having a son missing had been hard on him.

After Pierce had kissed the top of her head and settled onto the chair, Emma whispered, He’s resting again. Nick was with him for over an hour—

I’m sure they had a lot to discuss. Pierce’s voice was uncharacteristically gruff.

Emma frowned slightly, resting her hand on Pierce’s thin shoulder. I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you too.

Oh, I’ve talked to that son of mine. Pierce shrugged. You want to know what he wanted to discuss? What he’s been through? What’s happening to him? What the plan is for his future? Pierce’s voice was starting to rise. Emma rubbed his shoulder and tried to get him to quiet down. No. He wouldn’t talk about any of that. All he wanted to do was discuss how I can avoid losing the cottage since I put that up for his bail.

Pierce struggled to his feet. Leaning on his cane, he tilted toward the bed where Sean lay. Doesn’t he think I care about him … more than a stupid piece of property?

Emma stood and gently eased Pierce back to his chair. With a sigh, she checked that Sean was still sleeping and then settled back down too. He knows. He’s compartmentalizing. He’s dealing with what he needs to with each—

I know. I know. He’s involved in something … He talks a lot with that Nick … But still … He’s my son. MY SON! Not his!

Pierce gave a shudder and turned away from Emma. She watched his shoulders shake as he fought for control. With one sob, he turned back to her, tears in his eyes and on his face. I love him.

He knows. Emma put her arm around Pierce and gave him a hug.

Pierce gave her a forced smile. Has the doctor been by today?

Emma nodded. Sean is recovering fine. He wants to try to take Sean back to the clinic in a few days, just to do some follow-up tests. You know, confirm that things are healing as they should.

I still think my son should be in a hospital. This hanging out in a stranger’s home doesn’t make sense.

Emma frowned. She had already explained this to Pierce when he arrived four days ago. Martha and Derrick are good friends of ours.

Pierce shook his head, brushing the comment aside. He reached for her hand. But physically he’s recovering?

Giving his hand a squeeze, Emma said, Yes, the doctor says he’s doing as well as can be expected.

Suddenly Pierce sat up a little straighter, a little stiffer. That’s just what they said when he was in the car accident. ‘Doing as well as can be expected.’ I was so furious at Jake when he called and said that. What’s it supposed to mean anyway? Pierce didn’t wait for an answer. I’ll tell you what it means. It means your son comes home from a mission trip to Colombia looking like death itself. Then the nightmares. I’ll never forget those nightmares he’d have. We didn’t know how to help him.

I’m sure he’ll be fine, Dad. The doctor says we just need to give it time. He needs fluids, good food … She paused, studying Sean’s sleeping form.

And rest, said a deep, stern voice from the door.

Emma turned to see Nick standing just inside the room. He glanced at Sean and then his eyes met hers. Still sleeping? he asked.

Pierce, leaning on his cane, pulled himself slowly to his feet. Yes, he is. Do you need something else, Mr. Roman?

Nick’s smile, although warm, looked a little forced. Call me Nick, please. He walked over to Sean’s bedside, gently touching Sean’s hand that lay on top of the bedcovers. I know you love your son, Mr. Atkins. I do too. Please remember … he called for me. In my book, that takes precedent over any father-son relationship I might be infringing on.

Pierce opened his mouth, but hesitated when Sean shifted in his sleep, his eyes moving rapidly beneath their lids and his brow furrowing. This is just like that car accident. Just like it. Finally got Sean back to the States and Jake would rarely leave his bedside. He looked over at Nick, still standing next to the bed. His bearing indicated he knew where he belonged. Did you know Sean when he had that car accident?

Nick didn’t reply. He turned briskly toward the door but gave a second glance to Emma. When Sean wakes up, tell him I’ll be back later. Nick tried another smile at Pierce. He asked me to come back.

Pierce shrugged and with effort sat on his chair.

When the door clicked shut, Pierce turned to Emma as if Nick hadn’t been there at all. It was a really bad accident; one of the men who went down with them was killed. Sean would never talk about it. Mind you, I didn’t push. But I remember when we saw him, on the stretcher coming off the plane, being loaded into the ambulance. Scared the daylights out of his mother. Did he ever tell you about it?

No, he never mentioned it. Tears filled Emma’s eyes; she wondered what else she didn’t know.

Pierce’s hand shook as he reached for Emma’s. Yeah, he never would talk about it.

* * * *

Sean shifted, barely moving his complaining body. He could hear voices. He thought one was Nick’s. He wanted to talk to him. He tried to open his eyes, but that was too difficult. He struggled not to sleep again, but lost. Drifting off, he heard his father speak. He thought he heard Jake’s voice reply.

I don’t think it’s a good idea, son. Pierce said, his head inside the kitchen cabinet under the sink.

Sean exchanged an annoyed look with Jake, who was kneeling down handing Pierce a wrench. Dad, I was probably in worse spots when you were stationed all over the globe.

Jake shook his head, putting a finger to his lips. Pierce, I’m taking a group down on a mission trip and I’d like the kid to come with. He needs some excitement before he finishes law school with all the other bulldogs and has to settle down. Besides, he could practice his Spanish.

You mean interpret for you. Sean choked on his laughter when Jake gave him a fierce glare.

You okay, Sean? Pierce asked, bringing his head out from under the sink. Anyway, he’s already fluent.

Jake shoved the wrench at Pierce. He’s fine. He’ll be fine. Jake met Sean’s eyes, locking them. I promise.

Pierce pushed Jake’s hand and wrench out of his way and moved out from under the cabinet. What about your clerking?

They said I could have the time.

What about the money?

All saved.

How did you manage that?

I’ve been working, in case you didn’t notice.

Pierce accepted Jake’s hand and stood. Leaning against the counter, he wiped his hands on his pants. I don’t know. There’s so much unrest down there. Do they really have a mission group going there?

Jake shrugged. Honestly, it’s me, another gentleman and Sean. I’m just going to help out a friend that works down there. In a compound. Totally secure and safe.

You’d be in the compound the entire time?

Sean shrugged. Well, I’ve got to get to and from the airport. But, no, Dad, this isn’t a sightseeing trip.

Pierce shook his head slightly, beginning to bend down under the sink again. Seems to me, you’re a little old to be asking for permission.

Sean leaned down and caught his father’s small smile. Well, I would like your blessing.

Pierce nodded and moved under the sink, his hand searching for the wrench on the floor.

Sean reached for the wrench expecting to feel cold metal, instead he felt the soft cotton of the bedspread. Relief flooded through him; he didn’t want the dream to continue. He knew it would eventually, but for now he would do anything to stop the old memories from coming.

When Sean had returned from the mission trip, the explanation for his condition was a deadly car accident. Pierce had been presented with the barest of facts. Neither Sean nor Jake volunteered any details. To inform Pierce of the truth would have been tantamount to telling him of the group. Couldn’t be done. So Sean returned to law school and life returned to normal, almost. Sean’s vivid nightmares kept reminding him of what he was fighting.

As for the group of twelve, the ordeal was never mentioned after debriefment. It had gone wrong. Lessons were learned, but the past was the past. They had to move on. A new member was admitted to the group and Jake began keeping an even closer eye on Sean.

Sean forced his eyes open and found Emma reading a book. She glanced up and smiled. Putting the novel down, she moved closer to his bed. Your dad is going to be so disappointed. He left with Gerald just a few minutes ago. Emma paused, looking down at the bedcovers. He doesn’t seem to be doing well …

Sean turned away, pretending to look out the window. His voice was barely a whisper. I noticed. He felt Emma’s hand on his and held it.

Chapter 3

Sean gave a curt nod at the computer screen, which was currently providing a slide show of photographs of his illegal confinement. Has Harriet seen them yet? He gave a push at the tray that held the computer. You know, I don’t really need to see these. I was there.

Sorry. Caleb gave Nick a confused look and turned off the computer.

I asked you if Harriet saw them yet. Sean knew his tone was inappropriate but he was tired, worried about his dad, concerned about Emma, and feeling the stress of tomorrow.

Nick settled into a chair while Caleb put the computer on the dresser. Yes, I e-mailed them to her earlier today. She said she’d be over this afternoon. He took a deep breath. I know you’re anxious about tomorrow but I agree with your attorney. It was best to wait a week. Let you get stronger. You don’t know what might happen in court tomorrow.

Caleb turned around, his face stunned. Hey, even my uncle says the warrant should be quashed once everything gets explained. In fact, he said your attorney should be able to talk to the judge in his chambers without you having to even go in.

So now Stephen practices law. With his lips curled in a sneer of annoyance, Sean gave a loud exhale. Nice to know.

That’s not what I meant, Caleb said. It’s just … I’m getting a bad feeling about tomorrow.

You aren’t the only one.

Nick’s face showed agreement. Anyway, these pictures will help the judge see that you weren’t sunning on the beach somewhere instead of appearing in court.

There was a soft knock at the door. Nick’s hand automatically moved under his jacket to his back, but then paused when Emma’s voice asked, Everyone decent? I’m back and I bring legal counsel.

Caleb opened the door, allowing Emma and Harriet Roderic to enter. Harriet’s hair was in its usual tight bun, adding to her usual stern facial expression. Emma’s face contained a soft smile, which immediately fell after taking one look at Sean lying on the bed. You’re so pale, she said.

Just tired. Sean grimaced, trying to shift.

Emma spun around to face Harriet who was slowly approaching the bed. I don’t see how you can expect to have him appear in court tomorrow. Look at him! He’s not strong enough yet.

Harriet looked at Nick and Caleb. Receiving no help from them, she took a deep breath and replied, I spoke to the judge on the phone this afternoon. I didn’t give him any specifics, but he assured me that the warrant would be quashed if Sean appears in court. With Sean there and the pictures of where he was held … Harriet paused and cleared her throat. And his injuries. He should be out on bond again immediately.

Zach is due in sometime tomorrow. After Denver finally got dug out, his plane developed a problem. But he should be here to post any additional bond, Caleb said.

Harriet, am I going to have to post more bond? The failure-to-appear wasn’t my fault. Sean wanted this resolved now.

If the judge quashes the warrant, the original bond will be reinstated.

Sean leaned forward, but the sudden pain forced him to lie back against the pillows. What do you mean ‘if’?

This is why lawyers should never represent themselves. Harriet walked over to the bed and poked a finger at Sean. Get some rest. I’ll meet you in the fifth floor witness room at ten o’clock. I’ve already reserved the space. She smiled, more to herself than to those in the room, and walked out.

Caleb slid onto the bed, causing Sean to groan and move away. You really trust her?

Sean nodded. She’s annoying but good.

Nick pulled a chair over to the bed. Emma, nodding a thank you, sat. Reaching for Sean’s hand, she asked, You are going to be free, right?

Sean squeezed her hand. They have pictures of me at the farmhouse, pictures of my current injuries and the doc’s report. Sean looked up at Nick, meeting his eyes. What could go wrong?

Emma looked from Sean to Nick. Do you want me to make a list?

* * * *

Emma’s looking really good. When’s the baby due? Nick asked, settling into a chair.

April, around Resurrection Sunday. Sean looked around the dark room, the only light coming from the television that was muted. You going to stay or leave?

Nick stretched out in the chair. I thought I’d stay. With your attorney contacting the judge today, I want to make sure no points are connected with where you are … until we’re ready.

Sean’s smile was tired.

Nick hesitated, but he knew he needed to bring it up. Tomorrow is uncertain. I know you know that.

Sean didn’t reply. Looking away, he gave a brief nod.

I searched that list you made Jake—the coded files. The prosecuting attorney on your case is there. According to the code, he would’ve been recruited back in law school.

Sean’s voice was strained. What about the judge? Mallone?

Not on the list.

Both men were silent. The list was old. They knew the agency was still recruiting new members all the time.

Nick walked around the room, stopping to move the curtains and stare out the window. Good news for you. Caleb’s uncle agreed to assist in getting you to court. He won’t officially arrest you, so there wouldn’t be any need for handcuffs but it would cause other law enforcement to pause in any arrest attempt—walking in with a U.S. Marshal. Nick paused for several minutes, keeping his back to Sean. You know this is for the best. If you try to hide, your life won’t be yours.

I know. We already discussed this. Why are you bringing it up again? Are you having second thoughts?

Nick hesitated, wondering if he heard hope in Sean’s voice. With a shake of his head, he turned around to face his friend. No, this is the right way to proceed.

Good. Sean yawned. I just really don’t want to go to jail. He paused, rubbing his sore wrists. So, no handcuffs?

Nick returned to the side of the bed. He helped Sean lean forward and then removed two spare pillows. He gently eased Sean back down on the bed. No cuffs.

Good. I hate handcuffs. Sean shifted, pulled the blankets higher and shut his eyes.

Nick settled back into the chair and watched Sean instantly drift off. He was worried … but it wasn’t just about the court case. Caleb had reported back on some of their group’s members. There had been a bit of strong disparity on how things were to progress with several of the group’s plans, as well as Sean’s current predicament. That’s all they needed now, at this time, dissension in the ranks.

Chapter 4

Sean eased himself out of the bed. Nick was still sleeping in the chair on the side of the room; his feet stretched out on the second chair. Sean had to skirt around the makeshift bed to get to the bathroom. He glanced at Nick’s watch: three in the morning. He had plenty of time.

Entering the bathroom, he avoided looking in the mirror while he got his razor and shaving cream ready. Steeling himself, he forced himself to look up. It still shocked him. He had grown so used to the mustache and beard. Before he was even conscious, it had been shaved off so they could treat his injuries.

He leaned closer to the mirror. The gash, vivid in the harsh light, ran two inches from near his left cheekbone to nearly the corner of his mouth. It had healed itself, leaving a jagged scar. Later, plastic surgery could be an option. But as Sean studied it, the more he actually liked it. The problem was that the weeks trapped in the farmhouse basement were fading, getting mixed up with his other nightmares. The scar brought it back. Made it real.

Sean shaved quickly and then began brushing his teeth. Why he wasn’t sure; it gave him something to do. Alone. He began to pray. The fear that had been growing in his stomach eased. With more confidence than he’d entered the bathroom, he left and returned to the guest room.

Easing onto the bed, Sean’s left wrist bumped the night stand. Pain shot up his arm from the fading bruise that went almost completely around his wrist. It wasn’t broken. Just sore. The security he had felt vanished. He rubbed his wrist. He didn’t know if he could handle being cuffed again. But then, he wouldn’t be. He’d be out, free … in a few hours.

He shut his eyes, hoping for sleep without dreams. He got the sleep, but the nightmares came too.

* * * *

Emma sat on the far side of the fifth floor witness room of the Everett McKinley Dirksen United States Courthouse—otherwise known as the Dirksen Federal Building—in Chicago with Pierce, Caleb and Jessica seated around her. The little group had pulled up chairs after arriving together just minutes earlier. Sean had been very quiet on the ride in. He had stared out the window of the sedan, occasionally looking behind to check on Caleb’s progress in the second car with the others.

Sean didn’t sleep well, did he? Pierce asked.

Emma nodded, giving Sean a quick glance. Dressed in a black suit, white shirt and dark tie, he was pacing back and forth against the opposite windowless wall, definitely on edge. She had noticed him flinch when Stephen had put his hand on Sean’s shoulder to guide him to the correct elevator. At least arriving hadn’t been a problem. They were fifteen minutes early and apparently no one had even noticed them. Nick told me Sean woke up in a sweat this morning. Confused about where he was … he thought he was back at the farmhouse.

Jessica spoke in a whisper. Maybe he should see someone. You know, talk about it.

Pierce patted Jessica’s hand. I was thinking the same thing. When this is all over, I want you. Pierce looked at Emma.