SECRET IDENTITY

by Linda Mooney

  Wagner casually laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. He no longer appeared to be shocked to see her standing there, but it was obvious he wasn’t happy, either.

  “Who’s with you?” he finally spoke.

  “No one.” The moment she said it, she wished she hadn’t. Then again, maybe it was the only answer he would accept before he opened up.

  The man nodded, satisfied. Satisfied she was alone, or satisfied he could tell her the truth without witnesses, she couldn’t tell. Brenda resisted the urge to pat the cell phone in her jeans pocket.

  “Unguindene is a bust, no pun intended,” he stated without a trace of humor. “All the money Dobbling spent on its development, wasted.”

  She frowned. “What are you talking about? Unguindene is the most powerful explosive ever created.”

  “True.” He gave a slight nod. “It’s also the most unstable substance ever created. We’ve tried to freeze it, liquefy it¼we’ve done everything we can think of, but the stuff can explode without warning and without provocation. We can’t regulate it. We can’t package it. We can’t ship it. We can’t control it, no matter what we do.”

  “So?”

  “So…” Bringing his laced fingers forward, he placed them on top of his desk.

  The action reminded her of a principal patiently berating an errant student.

  “It’s too dangerous. The military, who was to pay us billions upon delivery, pulled their contracts. After sinking millions into its creation, the loss of those contracts is more than a major blow to Dobbling.”

  Brenda felt her mouth hanging open. “The company’s bankrupt.”

  “Worse. Not only is it financially ruined, it’s sitting on a cache of explosives that makes nitroglycerine look like popcorn, and we can’t sell it.”

  “But that doesn’t explain why—”

  “Dobbling insured all of its factories producing the chemicals to make unguindene to the max, including higher indemnities for acts of terrorism or sabotage.” He twiddled his thumbs. “The little bit we’d gain from blowing up the factories wouldn’t make up for what we’d lost, but it would at least keep the wolves from the door for a while.”

  Wagner added a smile that was completely devoid of warmth or humor. “There was an additional bonus that presented itself that we never saw coming. Once we were able to prove the explosion at the Fullerton factory was caused by an act of terrorism, the government got back into the picture. There’s a remote, granted it’s a very slight chance, but it’s possible the military may reissue a new contract for the unguindene. Of course, it won’t be but a fraction of the original contract, but at this point…” He opened up his hands to show Dobbling was willing to accept any crumbs the military could offer.

  “And you needed someone to take the blame. You needed me to be your saboteur,” Brenda bitterly spat out.

  “You’re a small-town girl. Miss Fresh Face, prom queen, homecoming queen. You’re naive, eager to please. You have a huge welcome mat practically tattooed across your forehead.” He ran a thumb and forefinger over his own forehead to demonstrate. “Setting you up to take the fall was child’s play. But don’t pat yourself on the back, Miss McKay. You weren’t the only one. We’d made arrangements for several people to take part in this play, one person for each factory and lab. All we had to come up with was a valid reason why all of you were working together to take them down.”

  “Your plan is flawed. I’m not as innocent or as stupid as you take me for.”

  “I can see that,” Wagner acquiesced. “You managed to escape the cell phone I had arranged to have planted in your purse. Regardless, I could map out every move you’d make. You are as predictable as A to B to C, which is why you were perfect.”

  He stood, and Brenda felt her body go rigid with fear at the sight of the pistol in his hand. She’d never seen him reach for it. She didn’t even know he had one here at the office. Taking a half-step back, she wondered if she could make it out the door before he fired.

  “Relax, Miss McKay. It’s not for you.”

  To her shock, Wagner placed the end of the muzzle under his chin.

  “Do you think I’d tell you everything without any consequences?”

  Brenda slowly shook her head. “I…uhh…”

  He sounded resigned, as if he had known it would come to this. As if he had planned for this. She was lost as to why he chose to make her his confessor.

  “If I know you as well as I think I do, you’ve probably told a lot of people you were coming here, right? They know you’re upset, which is why they might believe my last email I’ve just finished sending out to my associates.”

  “What do you mean, believe your last email?”

  “The one where I said the terrorists or saboteurs would probably try to target people here at the main offices.”

  A loud crash drew their attention to the bank of windows along the outer wall of the office. The Defender stepped through the hole he’d created, and froze at the sight of Wagner holding the pistol to his throat. Brenda stood almost directly between the windows and Wagner’s desk.

  Wagner glanced from the black-clad man to Brenda, and back.

  “You were ridiculously easy to predict,” he repeated, and suddenly stretched out his arm to aim the gun in Brenda’s direction.

  The Defender made a gesture in her direction.

  “But he was an element I never considered,” Wagner stated, and fired.

  The gunshot sounded like a loud firecracker going off. Brenda screamed, ready to feel the bullet plowing into her body. Instead, there was a grunt, and to her horror The Defender fell backwards from the impact.

  Chapter 31

  Fear

  Her scream tore through from her throat as The Defender took the bullet directly in the chest. She started to go to him, no longer caring if Wagner fired at her or not, when a black shadow seemed to detach itself from The Defender’s unconscious body. It oozed across the carpet like a puddle of thick oil, then suddenly it formed into the figure of a man, also dressed in black. It rose from the carpet so suddenly, she didn’t have time to notice any details about it.

  Wagner turned the pistol in its direction, but the man hit Wagner’s arm with a well-aimed hand chop. The gun started to fall from numb fingers as the strange man pivoted backwards on one leg, bringing the other foot up and around, until his heel connected with the side of Wagner’s face. She heard something crack, and both Wagner and the weapon dropped like rocks.

  It was over in less than a handful of seconds.

  Whoever this formless man was didn’t matter as Brenda launched herself toward The Defender. Blood was already seeping through his jacket and pooling on the carpet.

  “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.”

  She had to staunch the flow of blood somehow. Time was crucial. The formless man could take care of Wagner, but somebody had to call for help.

  “Can you call 911?” she yelled, pulling her blouse over her head to use as a pressure bandage. She could see The Defender was completely out, his face a pasty white shade, his breathing labored. Scrabbling for the zipper, she quickly opened the jacket to reach the wound and pulled away the edges.

  The faded Fender guitar on the front of the black t-shirt was soaked in blood.

  Brenda stared at the print in shock and disbelief.

  “No. No no no no no no!”

  Pulling the t-shirt out of the waistband of his pants, she shoved it upward until she could see where the bullet had entered his upper chest. With every shallow breath, more blood bubbled to the surface. She wadded her blouse and pressed it down over the wound, holding it there to help stem the blood loss.

  The strange man crouched down on the other side of The Defender’s body. Removing one of his gloves, he laid his hand on The Defender’s forehead.

  “It’s going to be all right, bro. Hang on. Just hang on. Help’s coming.”

  The voice was undeniable. Brenda stared at the masked man with disbelief.

&
nbsp; “Lee?”

  The man looked up at her with glittering black eyes. Not gray. Not the Palmer gray.

  “Long story, Brenda.”

  A nervous giggle rattled in her throat. “Long story?”

  EMS is on its way.

  The voice was so distinct in her head, it was as if it had whispered in her ear. She gave herself a shake, unable to understand, unable to cope with all of these revelations.

  “Who is that?”

  “That was Luke,” Lee murmured. He jerked the mask off of Lorne’s face, then began working at removing the black jacket.

  “In my head?”

  “Telepathy is one of his powers. Here. Keep the pressure steady. I’m going to have to move him a little to get this off of him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because no one else can find out The Defender’s been shot. If anyone asks, Lorne accompanied you here to accost Wagner.”

  The plan had too many holes, but it was the best idea under the circumstance.

  The Defender moved slightly underneath her hands. Brenda gasped but kept the pressure bearing down on the hole in his chest. She didn’t know she was crying until tears fell onto her bare arms.

  “He shot Lorne,” she weakly whispered. “How? I thought The Defender was invulnerable.”

  “Dad was invulnerable,” Lee told her. “None of us are, but Lorne can throw out a protective shield that’s a lot like a force field.”

  “D-Dad?”

  “Yeah. Dad was Infinity.”

  It took her a second to digest that bit of news. Mr. Palmer was Infinity? “Then why didn’t h-he try to protect himself?” she hiccupped.

  “Because he threw the shield around you first.”

  She stared at him, slowly comprehending what he was telling her. The Defender—Lorne—had tried to protect her, which had left him critically vulnerable.

  Neither one of them was prepared for the gunshot that rang out behind them.

  Lee automatically dove for her, shoving her down on top of Lorne’s body and using himself to protect her and his brother. Brenda laid with her face pressed into the bloodied blouse, too frightened to move until he slowly lifted off of her.

  “Wha—”

  “Shhh.” He got to his feet and hurried over to the desk. Walking around it, he paused to stare down at what was behind it.

  “Wagner?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. He finally made good his initial threat to shoot himself.”

  A muffled noise outside the closed doors caught their attention. In the next instant, they swung open, and three men wearing medic shirts rushed inside with their kits. They hurried over to where Lorne lay by the shattered window. Brenda was helped to her feet by one EMS technician as he moved her away so they could work.

  She glanced around, looking for Lee, but he had disappeared. There was more noise and confusion coming through the doors. Two firemen made their way through with a gurney. Someone called out her name, and she noticed Samra standing amid the crowd gathered there.

  Brenda? The voice was back inside her head.

  Luke?

  He’s going to be all right, the voice tried to reassure her.

  How do you know? How can you be so sure? The tears were back again. Stress-relieving tears, as well as fearful tears. God, please don’t let Lorne die because of me!

  He won’t die, Brenda, because he has something very special and very precious to live for now.

  What’s that?

  You.

  Chapter 32

  ICU

  “He’s waking up,” Luke murmured.

  Brenda threw her magazine onto the small table in the waiting area and got to her feet. Once again, she began walking back and forth across the tiled floor, oblivious of the irritated stares of the other people who were also waiting for their turn to visit loved ones at the hospital.

  “They should open up any moment now,” Lee stated, glancing at his watch.

  As if on cue, a hospital volunteer entered the waiting area to announce that visitation was open. “But one person at a time,” the elderly lady informed them in a no-nonsense voice. “If you cause any undue stress to the patient, you will be escorted from the unit, and further visitation rights will be denied. Any questions? Good. Come with me.”

  At Luke’s nod, Brenda accompanied the small crowd down the hallway leading into the intensive care area. One-by-one they were instructed to wash their hands before approaching the patient. Brenda started to reach for one of the gowns and masks when an attendant stopped her.

  “You won’t need that,” the young man informed her with a smile. “He’s no longer in isolation.”

  She followed him into another section of the unit where the beds were located in individual cubicles. A sliding glass door sealed each small room away from the noise and activity constantly going on at the monitoring station in the center.

  The attendant led her to cubicle number two and left. Brenda ushered herself inside.

  Lorne opened his eyes at the sound of the sliding door. “Hi,” he weakly greeted her.

  She hurried to the side of the bed and leaned over the railing to kiss him. She could not remember a kiss that had been any sweeter.

  “So now you know,” he whispered.

  “Not everything,” she told him. “When were you going to tell me? Or were you?”

  “I was. On our wedding night. Or maybe sooner.”

  Brenda smiled. “Sooner won.”

  A shadow from behind the bed coalesced into a now familiar shape. Lee reached out to clasp his brother’s shoulder. “How do you feel?”

  “Like somebody swung a sledgehammer into my chest. Trust me, Lee. Don’t ever get shot. It hurts like hell. And as for you.” Lorne turned his glare back at her. “If you ever try another stunt like that again, I swear I’m going to take you over my knee for a good spanking.”

  Laughing lightly, she shook her head. “Promise! No more accosting malicious executives, ever! Oh, that reminds me.” She glanced from him, up to his brother, and back. “What’s with the eye color change? Why do your eyes turn black? Is it because of your powers?”

  Dad’s turned black, too, Luke replied to all of them. Although the oldest brother was physically in the waiting room, he was able to join them telepathically.

  “Yeah, and our facial features alter slightly,” Lee added. “Not a whole lot, but enough so that when we wear a mask, it makes for a good enough disguise.” He gave a slight shrug. “We don’t know why our features change. But, yeah, we think it might be because of our powers.”

  “Speaking of disguise, was that you at the beach house? Standing on the sand dune?” Brenda questioned the younger brother.

  Lee nodded, and Brenda playfully threw a punch at him. They laughed at the gesture, as it reminded them of similar pretend fights they had shared many times while growing up.

  You know, guys, we’re going to have to bring the doctor into our confidences, Luke noted. Lorne’s healing too fast not to be noticed.

  Lorne frowned. “You mean they don’t know I’m The Defender?”

  “Nope,” Lee replied. “The moment you got shot, I pulled off your mask and jacket so that it was Lorne Palmer lying on the floor.” At Lorne’s raised eyebrow, he added, “Hey, what can I say? I hitched a ride on your backside when you left the basement. Good thing I did, too.”

  “We told the police you had followed me to the office,” Brenda further explained.

  “But didn’t Wagner tell them he’d shot The Defender?” Lorne inquired.

  “Wagner’s dead,” Brenda answered. “When he shot you, Lee did some kind of Kung Fu moves on him and knocked him out. We were taking care of you when he came to and shot himself.”

  Luke added, The FBI has since closed Dobbling’s doors and confiscated all of their files and computers. Apparently, this whole scheme was cooked up by Wagner and six other high-ranking executives, including the CEO. They were desperately trying to save their financial asses, and thought they had fig
ured out a way to stave off ruin.

  “Wagner had sneaked the gun into his office, fully expecting to have to kill himself, but hoping it would pass as a homicide,” Lee concluded. He suddenly glanced up, then literally melted into the wall behind him.

  Brenda turned around to see a nurse reaching for the glass door.

  “Visitation is limited to fifteen minutes,” the woman reminded her. “Time’s almost up.”

  Brenda thanked her and turned back to find Lorne staring at her longingly.

  “I can’t wait until I get released,” he whispered.

  She started to answer, but stopped to glance about the room. “Is Lee still here?”

  “No. He’s gone.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I can usually sense him.”

  Laughing softly, she leaned over the railing again for another kiss. “Okay. So what will you do once you’re released?” she asked with a hopeful smile.

  “Well, for one thing, we never got a chance to try out those chocolate-covered strawberries with champagne.”

  “Oh, that’s right. We sort of got sidetracked, didn’t we? What else?”

  “Then we’ll get you a new phone and have Luke install some neat gadgets to help you keep in touch with all of us.”

  She nodded. “Sounds good. What else?”

  He rolled his eyes, pretending to think. “Mmm, then maybe…I dunno. What do you suggest? Marriage, maybe?”

  “Marriage would be good. Would you have any objections about living next door to your old home? I’m thinking about moving back in. For good.”

  “No objections at all,” Lorne said. “In fact, I think Luke’s already started on constructing a new underground tunnel between the two houses.”

  I heard that.

  They burst out laughing, until Lorne clutched his chest in pain, gasping for breath. It took a moment for them to calm down enough to where it was safe to continue. By then, Luke warned them time was up.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” Brenda promised.

  “I’ll probably be in a private room by then,” Lorne said. “Luke will let you know.” He raised her hand to his lips, kissed it, and seductively told her, “I’m looking forward to the time when we can have another night together.”