The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

“Christ.” Hal, like a Joe, slammed his hand on the table. “Tact, Frank.” He saw the mortified look on Ellen’s face. “The truth is, this is sort of like a game now. The Society, well, they want revenge for Bev’s death, but they have to get you first. We’re here to protect you,” he spoke calmly like a politician. “Once you are back home, after your sentence, game over.”

  Frank rocked back and forth on the hind legs of his chair. “A week. No big deal. It won’t be hard at all.”

  Robbie was assured “We have a ton of supplies and you have us.”

  Hal laid his hand on Ellen’s. “You have us so it’s not a problem. You’ll be fine. We may . . . you know have to move around a bit.”

  Frank shrugged, still rocking. “Or a lot.”

  Hal sniffed a calming breath and swing a view back to Ellen. “Or . . . a lot.”

  “Because they will come,” Frank added.

  Hal again tried to downplay Frank’s words. “They . . . will maybe come.”

  “Oh, for sure they will,” Frank said in his rocking session.

  Ellen looked even more frightened. “The whole Society?”

  “No, no,” Hal said in a ‘don’t be silly’ fashion. “Good heavens, no. This is not a problem. They’ll send just a few.”

  “A few” Frank laughed. “Try six hundred and twenty-three.”

  Ellen shrieked about the same time Frank’s chair banged hard to the floor and he yelled a simple, ‘ow’ after Hal had swept out his foot into the legs of the furniture.

  Following the glance at a snickering Robbie and the view of a bewildered Frank trying to decipher what happened, Hal returned to Ellen. He calmly folded his hands on the table and smiled. “As I said, this is not a problem.”

  ^^^^

  The shine of the gold caused a reflection of the moment that had just transpired. Over two slices of warm bread in a cheese dip Misha had never tried, Hector proposed. It was a surprise and something he hadn’t brought up once. But it was right and Misha spewed forth her answer of ‘yes’ in a teenage girl excitement. Unfortunately for both of them, the break was over and they had to get back to work.

  Misha didn’t even have time to bask in the moment with Hector or ask him what brought it on. Why would he pop out the question out of the blue at a time when they only had minutes, instead of later when they would spend the entire evening alone?

  Whatever Hector’s reasoning, the proposal caused a huge smile and whisk of enthusiasm from both. So much so that Misha pretty much ran all the way back to the clinic. She paused at the doors and in the main corridor outside the lab to look at the specially made gold ring Hector gave her.

  She had to share with Dean. He would be so excited for her. Hoping that her news would perk up his day, she hurried into the lab. “Dean,” she called out on her entrance.

  From the back counter, Dean hesitated then turned around. “Hey, Misha.”

  “Oh,” she gushed, “I am so sorry I am late . . .”

  “That’s all right. I have to . . .”

  “I didn’t mean to take such a long morning break. I promise my lunch break will not be so long.”

  “No, that’s OK,” Dean said walking to her. “Listen, I have to . . .”

  “You must hear my news.” A grin spread across Misha’s face.

  “Misha . . .

  “But I will tell you first that I went to the cryo-lab and fed Majestic. She has gained three pounds.”

  “That’s good.” Dean tried in vain to convey his point, “Look . . .”

  “I think my good mood will spread to yours.”

  “I think my bad mood may dampen yours.”

  “Oh, I don’t believe so.” Misha shook her head then lifted her hand. “Hector has proposed marriage to me and I have accepted.”

  Dean looked down at the ring. “Wow,” he said less than enthusiastic.

  “You are not happy for me?”

  “I am very happy for you. However, I hate to ruin this happy mood but I’m going to.”

  Confused, Misha looked at him. “I do not understand.”

  “OK.” Dean took a breath. “You have been a wonderful lab assistant.”

  “Thank you. I love working in the lab.”

  “But.” Dean lifted a finger.

  “Bur?”

  “But, Ellen is coming back . . .”

  “Oh, I know. One week. I know you are concerned about all that is going on.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “I will help take your mind off of things.”

  “That’s been a problem,” Dean mumbled.

  “Excuse me?”

  “OK. I could pick a better time, but I’m not. I’ll try to be as tactful as I can . . .” Dean took a few pacing steps. “Misha.” He turned and faced her. “I’m sorry. You’re fired.”

  The smile dripped from Misha’s face. “I do not understand that term but I don’t think it’s good.”

  “No, what I’m saying is I won’t be using you to work in the lab.”

  “But I thought after Ellen returned we would all work together.”

  Dean shook his head. “No.”

  “The clinic can use me elsewhere?”

  “Probably.” Dean shrugged.

  “So I am only working with you until Ellen returns?”

  “You are only working with me for about another three seconds. I have to let you go now.”

  “You are mad at me.” Misha’s head dropped. “Did I make an error?”

  “No.”

  “Then it is my distraction of your friendship with Frank.”

  “In a way, “Dean said.

  “I will make it up when he returns. I will patch things up with you and he.” Misha nodded. “Just please do not make me stop working here. I love to work here. It makes me feel so good.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dean said helplessly. “Just know it is me, not you. See . . . . Ellen, like I said is returning and I have missed her. Oh God, have I missed her.”

  “I know this.”

  “I grasped, you know.” He nodded softly. “I grasped for her while she was gone. I am a very dedicated husband but I have been grasping so much to get a feel of her, I unknowingly grasped on to you and I stopped looking like that very dedicated husband. That bothers me.”

  “It is all my fault.”

  “No,” Dean tried to explain.

  “Please don’t make me stop working here. I need to be near Hector.”

  “They’ll be something in Beginnings.”

  “I’ll explain to Ellen that you . . .”

  “Misha.” Dean bodily stopped her. “No. I’m sorry. No. I can’t have you working with me. I’m sorry.” That was all Dean was going to say. He totally planned on just being the ‘dick’ everyone said he was. He was going to that until Misha puckered up, her eyes welled with tears, and with a loud burst of sadness, she spun around and flew from the lab.

  His arm extended, mouth opened, and a single step forward was all Dean took, but stopped when Margaret stepped into the lab.

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry.” Margaret looked over her shoulder. “Perhaps I should come back.”

  “Um . . .” Dean ran his hand through his hair then rested it on his side. “No, not a bad time. It’s a perfect time.” He exhaled the untruth to that statement. “What, can I uh . . .” He forced a smile. “Do for you?”

  “I am really feeling uncomfortable, right now. Should I come back?” Margaret asked.

  “No, really. Come in.” Dean walked to the counter.

  “I can wait if you want to go after her.”

  After he shrugged nonchalantly, Dean shook his head.

  “OK.” Margaret tossed up her hands, pulled a stool forward, and sat down.

  Dean had to admit his mind was elsewhere, but he tried not to visually convey that to Margaret.

  “This may sound silly or stupid,” Margaret said. “I know the last name Hayes is common so I really didn’t put two and two together. I was just at the school and I met y
our son. Billy.”

  “Oh, God.” Dean cringed. “How badly did he insult you?”

  “No,” Margaret chuckled. “That’s not it. Billy. William. Was your father William Hayes from Connecticut?”

  All expression dropped from Dean’s face.

  “Originally from Connecticut, I mean,” Margaret clarified. “He worked on a dairy farm in high school and married a girl name Abigail.”

  “Yes, yes, why, did you know them?” Dean asked.

  “Know them? Oh, yes, very well. I lost track of them when William began med school. You have to remember I was in stasis so I haven’t really aged. but I’m about five years your father’s junior.”

  “Oh my God.” Dean grinned and pulled up a stool. “You knew my parents when they were young.”

  “William was a hell cat. He used to steal the milk and cream and sell it below cost on his own sort of black market.”

  Dean laughed with exuberance. “This is great.”

  “Did he change much?” Margaret asked.

  “From that comment, no.” Dean scooted closer. “Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Sure. Why.”

  “Tell me,” Dean said with a smile. “This was the best interruption ever. So please, share. Tell me what you can about my parents.” With his cheek propped against his hand and a smile ear to ear, Dean listened as if in ‘Santa Clause’ awe.

  ^^^^

  Despite what Steward Lange said, the rules he spewed forth, and instruction he laid out, Jess’s thoughts were elsewhere, but it was the same thought he kept having over and over again. ‘No, this is too perfect. No, they are not entrusting me with this shit. No, too perfect’. He’d think that thought, smile at Steward, nod an understanding of something or other, then look in a pleasant bewilderment to the training schedule and stat sheets of the infantry soldiers he was in charge of.

  “So you have that?” Steward asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Repeat what I said. I know you weren’t listening.”

  Jess chuckled. “Is this a joke?”

  “No.” Steward shook his head. “I’m filing in for President Hadley here in Quantico so I no longer joke. Now . . . what did I say?”

  Wondering which part he was referring to, Jess quickly deciphered all the bits and pieces that had slipped into his subconscious. Training schedule. Precautionary deployments. Scouting troops to Cleveland? Or was it Lodi?

  “Boyens?”

  “Oh.” Jess shook his head. “Sorry, was trying to get all the instructions together. Anyhow . . . you said . . .”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Johnny said as he knocked once on the office door. “May I come in?”

  Steward looked behind him. “We’re busy now.”

  “But I just really needed to speak to Jess.” Johnny stepped into the office further. “I wanted to thank him for bringing the pictures and ask about my grandfather.” He lifted the photographs.

  Steward was going to tell him ‘no’ but recalled one of the missions he had given Jess. “I’ll let you speak. I have other things to deal with anyhow.” He walked to the door. “Jess, remember the Bartholomew situation.”

  Jess knew the code name well and he gave an agreement look to it. Bartholomew. In other words, Steward was conveying to begin the task of finding out whether or not Johnny was truly suffering from amnesia. Looking at Johnny, who was checking out the pictures, Jess smiled politely. He had no problems whatsoever taking on the ‘Bartholomew Situation’ because more so than the Society, he too wanted to know if Johnny really had amnesia. If he didn’t, for the sake of Beginnings, Jess had to also find out why he was faking it.

  ^^^^

  “Christ, Andrea.” Joe moved at a steady pace through center town.

  “Sweet Jesus, Joe, I wish you wouldn’t blaspheme.”

  “You know, all that ‘Sweet Jesus’ exclaiming you do is blaspheming.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “I’m a busy man, Andrea,” Joe claimed. His mind was still on the brief one line message he received from Jess stating, ‘Johnny has amnesia. Real or not. Know soon.’

  “Aren’t you listening?” Andrea asked, trying to keep up with him.

  Joe stopped cold. “To be honest, no. What were you saying?”

  “She was hysterical, Joe. Crying.”

  “What do you want me to do about it?”

  “Talk to Dean,” Andrea instructed. “He fired her.”

  “That’s Dean’s department.”

  “No one gets fired in Beginnings, Joe, really.”

  “Well.” Joe shrugged. “Seems Dean started it then.”

  “I could understand why . . .”

  “Andrea,” Joe halted her. “Why are you coming to me with this? You’re the head of the clinic. Deal with it.’

  “I need to be able to tell Misha she can work in the lab.”

  “If Dean doesn’t want her, then she can’t.”

  “She wants to work in the clinic.”

  “Find her something.” Joe was near giving up. “Let Dean keep his decision. So she lost her job there. So what? Why is she that hysterical?”

  “Because the reason he gave.”

  “And what reason is that.”

  “The reason for the reason I need you to talk to him.”

  “Christ,” Joe grumbled rubbing his forehead.

  “Blaspheme.”

  “Enough.”

  “Joe.”

  ‘What!” Joe blasted. “Continue.

  “Fine.” Andrea folded her arms and bobbed her head while she spoke. “Dean told Misha she couldn’t work there any longer because he wants to have an affair with her.”

  Just about the point where Joe was comfortable in letting his attention go elsewhere, he stopped. “Dean said what?’

  “Oh, yes. He told that sweet innocent little girl, ‘I cannot work with you. I want to have an affair with you.’”

  Joe blinked. “Dean said that? That doesn’t sound like Dean.”

  “Are you saying Misha’s lying?”

  “No, I’m . . .”

  “Are you saying I’m lying?”

  “No! Christ Andrea!’

  “She’s hysterical, Joe!”

  “I know!” Joe lost his cool.

  “We’ve not had a hysterical women in a sexual harassment situation ever in Beginnings.”

  “I just find this hard to believe Dean is sexually harassing Misha.”

  Andrea gasped. “This is so typically male.”

  “I’m just saying it’s hard to believe. Dean barely sexually harassed his wife.” Joe took a second. “Maybe Misha was just emotional over getting fired and she was hard to understand.”

  “Oh, I understood her perfectly well but I can’t now. She’s worse now as soon as I enlightened the situation to her.”

  “Oh brother.” Joe covered his eyes.

  “She’s an innocent, Joe.” Andrea dropped her voice to a whisper. “She’s still a virgin.”

  “Do I need to hear this?”

  “Yes, you do. As father-in-law to Dean and community leader this cannot be tolerated.”

  “What exactly did you explain to Misha?” Joe questioned.

  “That she was being sexually harassed.”

  “Where did you derive that from?”

  “From what Misha told me.”

  “Let’s stop with the children’s programming for a second, Andrea.” Joe lifted his hand. “What exactly did Misha tell you? Word for word please or I’m gonna start to call you Frank.”

  “She said . . .” Andrea shivered. “This is difficult for me.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “She said Dean told her, he was letting her go because he was devoted to his wife and he was grasping so hard for Ellen that he grasped on to Misha and things weren’t looking good for him, Joe. Which means . . .”

  “Which means squat. I’m not hearing sexual harassment.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  Before grumbling again, Joe reached i
nto his reserve calm pool. “Andrea, did it dawn on you that maybe Dean was referring to grasping for clinical help?”

  “Nope,” Andrea said confidently.

  “Nope.” Joe nodded.

  “Dean is repeating himself.”

  Confused, Joe tossed his hands out. “How.”

  “Bev. He has this thing for young girls.”

  Disgusted, Joe disagreed facially. “Oh that’s horse shit. He doesn’t have a thing for young girls.”

  “He does, Joe, I think we are dealing with a highly trained professional with a sexual perversion.”

  “What!” Joe blasted. “Andrea, you’re gonna have to get your mind out of your menopausal delusional state of thought and go rational.”

  Andrea wheezed out her offense.

  Just as Joe was about to imitate her then move on, Hector approached, almost with an air of hostility. Joe saw it and dreaded asking but he had to. “Yes.”

  “We need to talk about Dean,” Hector stated.

  “Oh, brother.” Joe rubbed his eyes. “What?”

  “He made Misha cry. Not only did he fire her, he touched her.”

  Joe’s hand slid down his face. “Touched her.”

  Andrea’s eyes widened. “He touched her too.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Hector nodded. “Jenny said he grasped her arm.”

  “Joe.” Andrea turned to him. “Jenny told him . . .”

  “I heard, Andrea,” Joe said, annoyed. “I’m standing right here. How did Jenny hear about the situation, Hector?”

  Hector shrugged.

  Joe looked to Andrea. “Did you tell Jenny what you told me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Figure.” Joe rolled his eyes. “Hector, look, this . . .”

  “Joseph Anthony Slagel, “Andrea scolded. “Quit trying to be the peace maker and deal with this. I want action.”

  “And I want a goddamn diversion right now to this insane situation!” Joe yelled.

  Asked and received, at that instance, with a dramatic squeal, Dan from Security pulled up. “Hey, Joe, the tour guys are back. The Society war monitor is here.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day when I was happy to hear about the Society.” Joe jumped into the Jeep. “Andrea. Hector. Later. Dan. Drive. Please and fast.”

  “All right. Hold on.” Dan peeled out.

  Joe took a second to look in the mirror at a baffled and ‘left standing’ Hector and Andrea. Relieved he had made some distance, Joe sunk into his chair. “Only in the whacked out world of Beginnings.”