Kaleidoscope

by Chariss K. Walker

  “It’s going to be all right, Sarah, and of course it isn’t your fault,” I said as I held her hand and encouraged her. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I’m the one who chose last night to confront Nelson. I’m the one who put you and the children in danger. I could've waited to confront him at his office, away from your family. I was in the kitchen when the assailants came into the dining room. That’s the reason they had a chance to hit him in the first place, Sarah. I wasn’t there to protect him.”

  “No, Mike; don’t you dare take this on yourself. You saved my life and the lives of my children by taking control of the situation. It’s Nelson’s fault and I can’t forget that, but it was my fault for not remembering about his head slamming against the floor,” Sarah numbly said.

  “Don’t blame yourself either, Sarah. So much happened last night that it’d be a miracle if you recalled any of it. It happened too fast.”

  “Yes, and you were fast, Mike. Even though I haven’t told anyone how you did it or what you did, it was astonishing. I’ve never seen anything like that...At first, you scared me to death when you came out of the kitchen flailing like a madman…After you took control of the man with a gun, I realized it was all an act. You wanted them to think you weren’t a menace, right?” Sarah asked.

  “It was the only way I could get close enough to get the gun away from him,” I softly said. Sarah threw her arms around me and hugged tightly.

  “Thank you; thank you for saving me and my children,” she whispered.

  And then, the doctor came out to find the family. Before he said a word, and from the look on his face, we knew Nelson didn’t make it through surgery. Now, it was my turn to hold Sarah tightly as she sobbed over the loss. When she’d cried herself out, I called Joe to give him the news.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Nelson’s dead, Joe,” I said as calmly as possible. “Sarah needs our help. She’s not safe. She’s already sent the kids to her parents in Indianapolis, but I think you’d agree that she can’t go home and she can’t stay here at the hospital.”

  “I agree, Mike,” Joe replied.

  “Make sure to let those bastards in lock-up know that Nelson is dead. Maybe, if they get the word back to their bosses, they’ll let Sarah alone. She doesn’t know anything.”

  “That’s a good idea; I’ll do it right now. Can you stay with her until I make the necessary arrangements for a safe house? It shouldn’t take too long. I’ll get over there as soon as I can,” Joe said, and ended the call.

  I stayed by Sarah’s side and waited for Joe to arrive with a plan. I held her hand and gave her emotional support when she needed it, but I also allowed her space to think about what the future might hold for her and the children. Sarah talked out funeral arrangements and memorial services. She wanted Nelson cremated and the hospital morgue wanted the name of the funeral home. She didn’t know what to tell them, having never had the need to use one before. I gave her the name of the place my parents had used for both of their cremations and Sarah made the call. By the time Joe got there, she’d done everything she could and was ready to leave the hospital. I went with her and Joe to the safe house, an apartment overlooking Central Park, and for the first time since Friday evening, she breathed easily again. Joe and Sarah sat in the living room while I went to the small kitchen to make a pot of strong, rich coffee. John, the agent who’d arrived with Joe, walked to one of the bodegas down the street to get cream. When he returned, everyone sat together in the living room while John paced a six-foot stretch before the window overlooking the area below.

  “Sarah, I need to ask you some questions about Nelson’s activities with the company he reported to, is that all right?”

  “Of course it is Mike,” Sarah replied.

  “Did you ever hear him mention The Rodante Group?”

  “Yes, in fact, they had him go out to San Francisco to take some classes about three months ago,” she replied.

  “Do you know what kind of classes?”

  “It had something to do with his work. He needed to learn some new techniques to use on a special patient; at least I think that’s what he said about it. I was angry that he was going right then, so I didn’t pay much attention to why he was going, only when he had to go. Katy had a recital and he’d miss it if he went, but he wouldn’t change the date,” Sarah responded.

  “Ok, that’s a big help,” I said and then looked at Joe. “Adom said that Nelson was using the company’s techniques on me during our sessions. The name of the company both Nelson and Casey worked for is definitely The Rodante Group.” Joe nodded.

  “Listen, I have something I need you to understand,” Sarah began, “I love you guys, but I’m a liability to both of you and you can’t watch me 24-hours a day. I need to get somewhere safe, or at least, where I feel safe. I want to be near my parents. I want to feel the familiarity of the city where I grew up. I need that. I’ve lived with Nelson in New York all these years, since college, but it was never home. I’ve already sent my children home and I want to go there, too.” She leaned forward to set the empty cup on the coffee table.

  “I understand, Sarah, but…” I began, but she quickly cut me off.

  “No, Mike; I don’t think that you do. I can’t do what you did to protect myself. If I stay in New York, I’m in danger. If they come after me again and end up killing me, neither you nor Joe will ever forgive yourselves that you weren’t there to protect me. I can’t have that on my conscious, especially when I know that Nelson is to blame for this. If I go home, maybe they’ll leave me alone and maybe they won’t, but I’m willing to take that chance. If it happens, my parents will make the necessary accommodations for my children and take care of my funeral arrangements. I owe it to them and it’s what I need too,” Sarah said with solemn, sad eyes as she looked first at Joe and then me. We could tell she’d given this a lot of thought. She’d probably made up her mind the moment she decided to send her children home.

  “You’ve thought this out,” I said, already knowing the answer.

  “I have, and I don’t think either one of you will be able to talk me out of it,” Sarah said with a hint of a smile for the first time since Friday night at dinner.

  “What will you do about the house, Sarah, and your personal belongings?” Joe asked.

  “The great thing about this age is that I can make arrangements for almost anything with a phone call or on the internet,” Sarah replied.

  “So you have that worked out, too?” I asked.

  “Yes, I’ve already called a shipping service to have our personal items, such as clothing and mementos, packed and sent to Indianapolis. The home can be sold as is and furnished. Those kinds of papers can also be sent to me by mail or courier, signed, and then returned overnight. It’s really quite simple when you want to walk away,” she replied.

  “It sounds like it,” I said. Sarah had figured out a simple way to leave everything behind. It was good information. I might need to know this when it was time to run.

  “And, what about you, Mike? Are you going to stand and keep fighting or are you going to turn and run one day?” Sarah asked, as if reading my thoughts.

  “It’s probably better that you don’t know my plans, Sarah,” I softly replied as I patted her hand.

  We were interrupted by a knock at the door. Joe quietly instructed Sarah to go into the bedroom, lock the door, and not to open it until one of us came for her personally. Then, he motioned for me to stand behind the door while he took the far side of the opening. Joe pulled his gun and moved into position. I searched for something to use as a weapon but didn’t see anything useful. Then, I picked up Sarah’s heavy cup and quickly moved to the right side of the door. Joe motioned for John to answer it.

  “Who is it?” John called out while standing a little to the left side of the opening.

  “Stanley Smith, Probationary Agent with the FBI. I have a message for Director Joe Talbot,” came the reply. Joe shook his head, letting me know this
was no good and to get ready. He nodded at John who left the safety latch on the door but unlocked the deadbolt. John opened the door to the extent the security chain would allow and looked out into the hallway. He had enough time to see that Stanley Smith was held at gunpoint only moments before the door was violently kicked in. The force knocked John backwards into the room. The butt of a gun smashed the top of Stanley’s head and he went down in the hallway. There were three men outside who intended to rush the room. John took a bullet to the shoulder when I slammed the door back onto the first intruder’s arm throwing off his aim. Joe reached out and grabbed the first one, pulling him roughly to attention and against the wall with a gun shoved under his chin. That left two more.

  The doorway could only accommodate one large man at a time. I held the cup rim-side up with the base pressed tightly against my palm and struck the second assailant in the face as hard as I could. The cup shattered on impact but not before it broke his nose and severely injured his right eye. The gun he held went off in the melee. Blood spurted from the gash over his eye blinding him. Dazed, he went to his knees. I violently chopped him across the back of the neck with a fist and the man went down completely. The third man hadn’t bothered to pull his gun. Now, surprised to be the only one left standing, he hesitated in the doorway, fumbling for his weapon. This actually worked to my advantage. I grabbed the third assailant by the lapels of his overcoat and twisted with all my strength. The force flipped him onto his back and I followed him to the floor with one knee pressing into his throat and the other knee on his gun arm essentially disabling him.

  It was over in only a few minutes. John was bleeding badly, but it was a clean through-and-through shot. He called for backup. Joe cuffed the assailants, checked on Stanley, who was still down in the hallway and then we waited. When the one I knocked unconscious came to, we hauled him to his feet and shoved him into a chair. He was in severe pain and wouldn’t soon forget the incident or the words he was about to hear. Joe glared at him and using the same steely voice I’d personally witnessed in the interrogation room, he ground out the clear-cut message.

  “I don’t know who you’re working for yet, but you tell them that they better back the fuck off now. You tell them that Nelson Fitch is dead and his wife isn’t a threat. You tell them that she doesn’t know anything more than I know, because my good friend Mike Lewis taped the entire conversation. Therefore, if they try to take her out, they might as well come after the FBI while they’re at it because I’ve played that tape for the entire division. Now, we all know. You tell them that no matter how many men they send, it won’t be enough. You tell them that Sarah Fitch and her children have the protection of the FBI behind them, and if your boss doesn’t stop now, I’ll use every resource I have to track him down and bring this fight to his door, both office and residence. His family won’t be safe and neither the fuck will he! Do you understand me?”

  Joe shouted until the veins stood out on his forehead. The man quickly nodded with his good eye wide with alarm while the other one, bleeding, lacerated, and swollen remained shut. Back-up finally arrived and the three men were hauled to headquarters where they were interrogated and charged. John and Stanley got medical treatment. After everyone left, Joe looked at me with incredulity.

  “A cup! You knocked him out with a coffee cup?” Joe finally asked with amusement.

  “Yeah, it was Sarah’s empty cup. She needed closure,” I replied with a grin and then Joe laughed a deep rumbling chuckle. It was contagious and I laughed with him. The relief we felt was tangible. Sarah came into the room looking at us as if we’d lost our minds.

  “What’s so funny? I want to laugh too,” she said. We grinned at her.

  “While you two were out here duking it out with the bad guys, my parents called. United has a flight out this evening at six o’clock. It arrives in Indianapolis at eight-twenty. I’m on it,” she replied in a flat, even voice. “Joe,” she continued, “I need someone to pick up Nelson’s urn at the funeral home and take me to the airport. I can’t stay in New York long enough to have a memorial service for Nelson and I’m not going to Boston to do it either. I have to think about me and the children now. Today is the first day of Shiva, and my parents are making the arrangements so the Kaddish prayer can be recited this evening when I arrive.”

  “I can help you with those things,” Joe said, resolved to her determined decision. “Is there anything else I can do for you Sarah?”

  “Yes, I’d like a change of clothes and a little makeup. I hate to be a burden, but do you have a female agent who could make a stop at the house for me?”

  “I’ll find one. Do you want to talk her through it or just leave it to her discretion?” Joe asked.

  “Just tell her to pack one bag of what she’d need for an extended trip and for a funeral,” Sarah replied softly.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Joe said. “I have to get back to headquarters, but I’ll be back in time to take Sarah to the airport.”

  “We’ll be right here.”

  Maintenance was already repairing the door and had finished by the time Joe left. We ordered Chinese delivery and waited in silence for everyone to do their part to get her out of town. The female agent stopped by with a rolling packed suitcase and a carry-on for Sarah’s trip. She didn’t stay long. Sarah showered and changed clothes. When she came out, she’d freshened up nicely.

  “I threw the clothes from Friday night in the trash,” Sarah commented. I’d seen that same look the night she hit Jesse with the platter. It was the surreal uncertainty of doing something out of character. Sarah looked for my approval again. I gave a reassuring grin.

  “Well done!” I said and was relieved when she returned the smile. I didn’t blame her. The clothing was only something else to remind her of the night Nelson was fatally struck down by armed men. I smiled again and hugged her.

  Joe returned and after saying our farewells at the safe house, we took Sarah to the airport leaving only enough time for her to board the plane. It was the way she wanted it. Joe flashed his credentials and we were able to accompany her to the boarding area. I had a sinking feeling as Sarah disappeared onto the passageway. I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again, not because something might happen to her, but because it was nearly time to disappear. After we left the airport, Joe took me to get a New York Philly cheesesteak at a place he frequented. We shared a good meal together in somber silence.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  At the next practice, I shared the story of Nelson’s attack with Sensei Wakahisa. When I’d finished, he surprised me again. “Great improvisation!” his voice resounded around the still dojo.

  “Really?” I asked with surprise.

  “Yes! Well done!” Sensei exulted. “You’re now ready for real Kali!”

  And, true to his word, Sensei began to teach a new series of movements that would increase my reflexes and allow me to get past an attacker’s defenses. He explained that the arms and legs were the guardians that protected the vital organs and core. I must never let anyone past that barrier. Once inside that striking point, every blow or jab could cause severe damage or death. He demonstrated by showing me how easy it was to strike the neck, throat or solar plexus once an attacker had breached the arms.

  “Your objective is to strike your attacker’s protective wall, but never allow him past your own, Michael-san,” Sensei instructed.

  I practiced the circular motions—swinging my arm up to block a punch while at the same time circle the opposite arm up and around to push the attacker’s arms away. I was always striving to get beyond his barriers in order to deliver the blow that would disable him as quickly as possible.

  “You must memorize the steps, Michael-san. You must see them in your mind’s eye again and again,” Sensei tapped his forehead for emphasis, “each moment of the day, see the steps until you can do them in your sleep!” he demanded.

  And, that’s exactly what I did. I practiced that way. When I returned home, rather t
han observe the kaleidoscope images, I visualized myself performing the new steps. I was relentless in this endeavor. I let my eyes go out of focus as if looking into the distance. It felt natural and my self-defense techniques grew exponentially.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Sarah called early Sunday morning. She was safely home with family. We chatted for some time and I made coffee while on the phone with her. After the coffee brewed, I stepped outside on the deck to continue the conversation.

  “Mike, being home with family was the right thing to do,” Sarah said with conviction. “I feel restored already.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Sarah. I don’t think the company behind this will bother you anymore.”

  “Why do you say that?” she asked.

  “Joe promised to rain hellfire and brimstone down on them if they didn’t leave you alone,” I replied and then chuckled at the memory of Joe’s heated threats.