The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Walking through Smoke...

“Company in ten minutes.”

I rolled out of bed, grabbing my jo. Janice was standing in the doorway.

“It’s okay—the Director is on his way,” she told us.

“You’re sure it’s him?” Christie asked as she got out of bed slowly.

“Yes—he called my cell phone, and I recognized his voice.”

“Okay...” Five thirty—glad I’d gone to bed. “How are you holding out?”

Janice shook her head. “Physically or emotionally?”

I went to the extreme, putting on pants, socks, shoes, and a shirt. Christie started dressing as well.

“Coffee?” Janice asked as I went into the kitchen. Our guest was on his side on the floor, the comforter folded up under his head.

“No thanks—how long did you work with him, if I can pry.”

She shook her head, looking slightly sick. “We don’t have official partners, but we worked together on and off for the last year or so. God... Oh, the locksmith will be out later this morning. We’re sweeping everything for bugs again as well.”

I frowned and shook my head as I got a glass of water. I turned to see Christie checking the rat.

But was he? Are there any clear, clean lines in this? Was I working for the side of good and righteousness, or were we all blurred shades of gray?

I heard noise, a car pulling into the driveway, two cars. Christie stood quickly. Janice pulled out the gun.

I went to the door, standing to the side, jo ready. Janice was behind me, partially protected by the kitchen island, aiming at the center of the door.

We heard someone approach. The doorbell rang.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Hammond,” the voice said from the other side of the door.

I looked through the peephole. Yup, and he was alone.

“Okay,” I said to Janice. I opened the door and he stepped in.

He looked like hell—must not have gotten much sleep. He looked down at our guest on the floor and scowled. My jo got a raised eyebrow.

“May I call in the rest of the crew?” he asked me.

“Sure.”

He stepped outside briefly, waved an arm, then stepped back inside. Three men and a woman joined us.

Christie knew one of the men, Doctor Parker. While the two of them checked over our guest, one of the other men took the car keys and headed out the door. The remaining man started going over my house very carefully.

After some jargon-laden conversation with Christie, Parker looked up to Hammond. “He’s safe to transport. I’ll want head x-rays and a CT scan when we get to Pittsburgh. Has the word been sent out on possible sensitization and the risk of anaphylactic shock?”

Hammond looked to the woman.

She nodded and said, “Yes, it has.”

We went over the contents of Mike’s pocket. Hammond and Colleagues didn’t use injectors. We learned that the calls to the house had been placed from a local pay phone. They were also running down anyone Denise had contact with since she joined the group.

We looked up to the sounds of another vehicle pulling in.

“Sir, a number of bugging devices were in the car, and a cassette recorder,” the guy reported after one of his buddies let him in.

I shook my head. “That’s a tape I do not want to hear!”

Christie stood and moved close to me, putting an arm around my waist. “But I need to hear it. And Roger, we’ll go through it together when it’s time. You know we need to.”

My stomach knotted up. “I know you’re right,” I whispered.

“Doctor Flynn,” Parker said, “I need to head back, but is there anyone we could send out to work with you?”

“Thank you, John. If Angela Richards is available, she would be a great help.”

Hammond grunted and said, “She’ll be here tomorrow.”

Christie shook her head. “Sir, we couldn’t use her until Tuesday at the earliest.”

Hammond grunted again. “Dammit, I want to get to the bottom of this!”

The woman said, “We will—it takes time.”

“Ready, sir,” one of the two trussing up our guest said. They’d prepared Mike for transport, replaced my restraints with their own.

“Load him in the van, and let’s get going!” Hammond barked.

“Sir?” his assistant asked.

He gave her a scowl which quickly softened.

She handed me two business cards. They were for a local attorney.

“If you get any questions on this entire matter, from police, FBI, any authorities, you’re represented by him. You don’t answer any questions without consulting with him,” she told me very seriously.

I nodded and pocketed the cards. “I understand.”

“Doctor Hawthorne, if you could open your garage door?” one of the men asked.

“What about his car?” I asked as I walked through the house.

Hammond was right behind me. “One of my people will take it back, and go through his apartment. I’m leaving Joseph with you for a while. We’ll be re-sweeping your residence, dojo, and office. Your locks will be changed, again. He looked behind him. “Right?” he asked, not really a question.

“Already scheduled, Sir,” said Janice.

He grunted. “Good.”

I hit the button for the garage door opener. They’d backed a mini-van up to the door. Our guest, who was moving a bit and making incoherent noises, was loaded in the back.

One of the guys said, “Doctor Hawthorne’s car is clean.”

Hammond turned to me and extended his hand. As we shook, he said, “Doctor Hawthorne, Doctor Flynn, thank you again. I sincerely hope we’ve seen the last of this.”

“Thank you, Sir, for being so responsive,” I told him.

They got into their respective vehicles, leaving Joseph, a very healthy looking specimen, and one car left behind.

We reconvened in the kitchen.

“Who’s for breakfast?” I called out.

Christie nodded her head. So did Janice.

“Joseph?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Sorry, sir—I’m here until the house is swept and the locks are changed.”

I nodded. “Drop the ‘sir’ stuff—you’re a house guest. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. We’ll do some shopping on the way back. You know Christie’s cell phone?”

“Yes ... I’ve got it.”

“Okay, we’re going to breakfast. Be back in a couple of hours.”

I drove us to a local omelet place. The food was good, hot, and plentiful. We were all hungry. I don’t think a dozen words were said outside of normal table talk. My stomach was full, but still sour.

We did some grocery shopping on the way back. When I asked Christie how long she was staying, her visage became stern and she said, “The week,” but her hand crept over and held mine.

Back at the house we unloaded the groceries. The refrigerator contained more food than in quite a while.

I looked at Janice. She was leaning against a cupboard.

“If you’re going to stay, go take a nap,” I told her.

She sighed and nodded. “Thanks. I’ll go home and crash.”

I held out my arms. She stepped over to me and we hugged. It still hurt.

She pulled a card out of her purse and wrote on the back of it. “Here’s my home and cell phones. I’ll have a new pager for you. Thank you again.”

Christie stepped up and hugged her. “Thank you. We need to go over this together.”

Janice said, “Yes, we do. What a mess.” With another sigh, she headed out the door.

I looked at Christie. Ten in the morning on a Sunday, and I was beat. I put my car keys on the counter. “Joseph, we’re taking a nap. Wake us if you need anything.”

He nodded.

I took Christie’s hand and led her into the bedroom. It was cool, and the thick drapes cut the light. “Hold me, please?” I asked her.

Her lower lip trembled; I saw her eyes filling up with tears. She nodded her head.

We undressed and got into bed. Being on my side wasn’t easy on my ribs. I slid down her a little, closing my eyes and letting my mouth find the right place. Her hands on my head helped, guiding me.

We both sighed as I connected with her nipple. She held me, gently, and I let go.

I woke on my back, with her curled up at my side. I heard voices in the house—must be the new locks. I was surprised I hadn’t sprung awake at the first small sound. The clock on the dresser said a little after one in the afternoon. I gave Christie a squeeze, then kissed her hair.

She moved, kissed my chest, then looked to me with the most incredible smile.

We got up and dressed again. I rolled my shoulders. I knew I was in for at least two weeks of pain from my ribs, maybe as long as four or five. I was surprised when I walked by a mirror—one side of my face was in full color. Can’t hide that, that’s for sure.

“How are you doing?” Christie asked, stepping close and kissing my neck.

“Sore, but that’s expected. How about you?”

She sighed, arms around my waist. “Still sorting things out.”

We walked out to the living room. One guy was busy on the front door while another walked around with a gadget of some kind.

“May we check the rest of the house?” Joseph asked.

“Please,” I replied.

I sighed. What to do next? I walked over to the phone. “Any problem with using the phone?” I called out.

A voice from my office replied, “No sir, the line is clear now.”

I looked at Christie and raised an eyebrow—meaning it hadn’t been earlier?

I called Abiko, catching her as she was leaving home. Things were going okay at the dojo, but people were worried. They’d heard I’d been mugged, and couldn’t believe it. I told her it was true. I thanked her for taking care of classes for me. I’d be at the dojo tomorrow, but wouldn’t be doing anything strenuous for a while yet, possibly two or three weeks. She gasped at that, but I told her it was just ribs, and that my doctor was insisting I take it easy.

When I hung up the phone, Christie hugged me.

“Did I say the right thing?” I asked her.

She kissed my ear. “Yes. You’re definitely taking it easy. You’ve got a doctor’s appointment at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Okay—how about you? What do you need?”

She sighed, resting her head on my shoulder. “Oh Roger—I don’t know. If Doctor Richards can come out, she will help.”

“Let me know what I can do,” I whispered to her, rubbing her back gently.

She sighed again. I held her, doing what I could, doing what felt right.

“Sir?” one of the guys asked a few minutes later.

I looked up. “Yes?”

“We’re through here, sir.”

“And you found?” I asked.

“A transmitter on your phone line, nothing else. It had been installed since we last swept the property. When could we sweep your business?”

I looked over to Joseph. “How about now? I don’t have anything else pressing. From there we can swing by school if you’d like.”

They looked to Joseph. He nodded. “Okay.”

I nodded. “Did you actually change the locks at the dojo?”

Joseph nodded. “Yes, and got new keys to the individuals you’d authorized.”

That would have been Abiko and the two yoga teachers. “Okay—I can’t see changing them again, there are too many keys floating around as it is. What do you think of that?”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

I frowned. “I asked for your professional opinion—if I’m proposing something stupid, I expect you to let me know, and you don’t have to be polite about it. Okay?”

He actually smiled a little. “With four keys out, changing the locks again doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“Thank you. Well, shall we go to the dojo?” I glanced over to the clock. “It’s actually unused for another two hours or so.”

One of the guys handed me two new keys. I looked at them, shaking my head. “Medeco—I suppose these are restricted keyways?” Medeco keys are difficult to make.

“Yes, sir, they are.”

“So you’ll give me a list of places where I can get these made if need be?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s go, then.”

Joseph rode over with us to the dojo, the other two following in their car.

The door to the dojo was ajar when we arrived. As I pulled up to park, Joseph said, “Sir, please remain in the car until we’ve checked the premises.”

I shook my head. “I’ll go in with you—that’s Abiko’s car, and the Nissan belongs to a brown-belt, Patti.”

As we approached the door, I could hear the clack-clack of wooden practice weapons striking each other—at least two sets. It brought a smile to my face. But how long would it be before I was back in full form?

When Abiko saw me, she looked shocked. Patti and two of her girlfriends were there as well—one of them gasped. They all came over to us.

Their approach was tentative; I could feel their concern. I made introductions all around, turning the two guys loose to check the place. Joseph went with them.

I moved to sitting on the mats in the back corner of the dojo. Christie, Abiko, Patti, and her friends sat with me.

I looked at them and sighed. In one sense, Aikido is the art of finding success. “As you see, I wasn’t attentive enough...” I turned to Abiko. “Abiko, I’m going to need your help even more the next few weeks—I’m not sure when I’ll be back to full form—a few weeks at least.”

She nodded. “I’ll do what I can, Sensei.”

With a slight smile, I suggested, “We could always call Mister Penn...”

She smirked at that. “I don’t think that will be necessary...”

Good, I’d broken the tension. “I’m not sure about my schedule this week. I have complete confidence in you.” I turned a little. “Patti—do you feel up to a challenge?”

Patti sat up straighter, a surprised smile forming on her face. “Yes, Sensei!”

I gave her a stern glance. “You need more work on suwariwaza so we can test you for black belt next quarter. But I think you’re ready to be Sempai.”

Her eyes got wider. Good, Sensei still had a few surprises...

“Yes, Sensei!” she said, a little hushed.

I looked to Patti’s girlfriends, giving them the stern Sensei look. They tried hard not to move. “Continue,” I told them.

They sat for a moment, until Abiko called out, “Rei!”

We bowed and they moved back to the middle of the mat.

Christie moved closer, sitting beside me. I pulled her closer, our legs touching.

“That was very interesting,” she whispered.

“Oh?” I said, watching my students on the mat.

She chuckled. “You are quite a catch.” She put an arm around my waist.

We watched for a few minutes. It felt good to be in the dojo again.

They were having trouble with a sword kata, Abiko not really getting the idea across.

With a sigh, I shifted my weight, bowed forward, and moved to standing.

I didn’t quite pass out from the pain, but it was a surprise! Abiko saw me approaching. She called the others to order. With a bow, she handed me her sword.

I demonstrated, explaining as I went. I emphasized my breath—controlling the exhalation as I moved, sweeping through the pain, demonstrating technique. I worked with each of them, slowly at first. The pain faded as I worked with them.

I did the complete kata with Abiko, slowly, then at full speed, neither of us holding back.

When we completed it, I noticed Joseph and the other two guys standing at the edge of the mat. I bowed to Abiko and the group. “Please continue,” I told them.

“Thank you, Sensei!” they answered.

I could feel the smile on my face as I walked to the edge of the mat—and feel the pain underneath it, in my cheekbone, and in my ribs. I turned to the head of the dojo and bowed before stepping off the mat.

“Well?” I asked them.

Joseph had a half-smile on his face. “All through, Sir.” He winced as soon as he said it.

I nodded, waving to Christie. “What did you find?”

One of the others said, “All clear, sir.”

“Very well.” Christie stepped over. I put an arm around her and gave her a squeeze—which hurt and felt good at the same time. “We could go to the University if you’d like.”

Joseph looked to the others. They nodded. I ushered us to the entranceway. After putting on shoes, we went back to the cars.

Joseph said, “I’ll ride with the others...”

“Fine—follow me over.”

“You’re doing better,” Christie said as we drove off.

I took a deeper breath, slowly. “Yes... The pain is still there, but it felt good to be moving on the mat again.”

She put a hand on my leg. “The first steps you took seemed tentative, but once you took the sword in your hand...”

“I know—I could feel it.” I sighed. “Still...” The thought I had was clear, but also troubling... I shook my head. “Something has happened—the kata with Abiko, we both struck hard—if either of us had failed to block, it would have hurt... At the end, I looked over to Joseph and his cronies... I knew that in spite of the pain, I could take any of them—watching them, watching them move, remembering how they moved, I saw weaknesses, openings...”

She squeezed my leg gently. “Why does that bother you? Isn’t that something you do automatically? Isn’t that what you were doing as we sat together watching Abiko teach?”

I shook my head. “Similar yet different... Yes, as we sat, I saw Abiko was having difficulty—but the feeling as I stood there, sword raised, was so ... primal... When I looked at Abiko, Patti, and the others—I looked as a teacher. When I looked at Joseph and the others, it was with the detachment not of a teacher, but of an ... assassin.”

I heard her sigh. Her hand moved to my shoulder. “Roger, we’ll work through that. We’ve both been tinkered with at very deep levels. You recognize those feelings—and that’s the first part of the process you know so well—recognize them, acknowledge them, and dismiss them. One of my meditation teachers says, ‘Acknowledge these thoughts and let them go—don’t invite them in for tea.’”

I had to smile. “Yes, we teach that as well. Thank you, Sensei... Still, it’s disturbing.”

“Wouldn’t it be more disturbing if such thoughts didn’t bother you?”

“That’s bordering on the recursive... But yes, in a sense, I’m glad they bother me. But it’s more than thoughts—earlier this morning with our guest... Was it this morning? As I stood there, waiting, I could feel it in my muscles, my bones... I could feel the attack, the motion to bring the end of the jo against the base of his skull. With a breath I could have let it become real—and he’d have been dead before he hit the floor.”

She kneaded my shoulder gently. “But you didn’t... Again, you recognized it, acknowledged it, and moved on, responding consciously, and appropriately to the situation.”

“Yesterday—holding on to the towel rack—it was so much harder; I had to keep holding on so I wouldn’t...”

“It’s okay, Roger—look at all those events now—they are in the past, and can’t hurt anyone. When we look at those events now, we see that it’s getting easier for you to recognize, acknowledge, and dismiss those thoughts. It will continue to get easier. That doesn’t mean they won’t be unpleasant, but you know that you can deal with that as well.”

Just as I’d done early this morning, standing in the kitchen with my jo raised at the ready, as I’d done moving on the mat a short while ago, I breathed slow and deep, meeting this challenge one breath at a time.

“It still scares me,” I told her.

“I understand, Roger—it scares me, and hurts me as well.”

I turned the car into a parking space. “And it bugs me that I just made the drive to school on auto-pilot—that kind of inattention is dangerous!” I shouted.

She sighed. “Roger... Were you upset with Patti, or Abiko a while ago?”

“No, of course not.”

She turned my head to face her. With a smile and a slight shaking of her head, she asked, “Then why are you so upset with yourself?”

I sighed again, smiled, and raised her hand to my lips. “Thank you, Sensei.”

Our visit to my office at school was brief. After checking things over, Joseph and his buddies conferred for a few minutes.

“That’s all we can do,” Joseph said to Christie and me. “I cut them loose.”

“Thanks. That means you’re riding back to the house with us?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Early dinner, and early to bed tonight, I think,” I muttered as we drove off.

Over lasagna, I got the rundown for the next day. Monday morning at eight I was to be at the doctor’s office, and would be there for two to three hours. I’d meet Christie and Joseph at the dojo in the afternoon.

We cleaned up the kitchen. Joseph spent some time out on the deck with his cell phone.

“I’m thinking some time in the hot tub would do me good,” I told Christie as she stood next to me drying dishes.

She nodded. “It would do us both good. How are you doing for pain?”

“I’ve plenty, thanks, and don’t need any more,” I told her with a smile.

She laughed a little. “I’d like to give you a muscle relaxant before we get in the tub—the combination will help.”

“As you recommend, Doctor.”

She left momentarily, returning with two tablets for me to take.

Joseph came back in and let us know he’d be leaving Tuesday. I told him how to pull the couch into a bed, and pointed out fresh towels. He’d wait to take a shower until we came in from outside.

“A good omen,” Christie said as we eased into the hot water of the tub.

“What?” I asked. I was starting to feel quite relaxed, as well as just plain exhausted.

“We’ve got stars visible tonight,” she said.

“That’s nice,” I said, pulling a cushion around for my head and leaning back.

She moved closer, her hands touching my chest.

“Can I hold you and rock you?” she asked.

“Yes, please...” I replied in a whisper.

She slid one hand behind my head, eliciting a moaning sigh from me.

“Oh Roger... I’m so lucky... But right now, I want you to relax and let me rock you. Relax more and more with each breath as I hold you...”

I relaxed and let her take me to that soft, safe place again. After a while we got up, took a quick shower, and went to bed.

I got to the dojo Monday afternoon at a quarter to four. Yesterday at the dojo had helped, going to school had helped, but I was still nervous. Abiko’s car was there, as was Joseph’s, and a few others. I expected Christie had ridden with Joseph.

I was surprised and happy at what I saw inside. Abiko was working with Christie, and Patti was throwing Joseph around—he was even wearing a gi. One of the other students saw me and raised the alarm.

Joseph made the mistake of looking around—Patti slammed him to the mat, grinning magnificently as she stepped back.

Abiko started bringing people to order.

“No, continue, please,” I told them. Christie bowed, whispered something to Abiko, and came over to me. She bowed properly before stepping off the mat—that made me happy.

She gave me a gentle hug as we walked to my office. I closed the door behind us.

“How are you? How was your day?” she asked.

I opened the cabinet where I keep my gi and hakama. “I thought I’d had complete physicals before—not compared to what they put me through this morning!”

She nodded, sitting down. “And?”

I undressed. “He is very good. He spent a lot of time with me, explaining and counseling as well as poking and prodding. He also has quite the sense of humor.”

I leaned against the desk for a moment. “He got me laughing, and I dribbled pee... He says another week or so.”

“I know. We spoke this afternoon.”

“Then you probably know more than I do.”

She shook her head. “I only know what he told me, not how you feel.”

I sighed. “I don’t know. We covered a lot of ground. I was very glad to learn I’m clean, virus-wise.”

She nodded, a serious look on her face. “I insisted on a lot of those tests. They didn’t expect you to live two days...”

“And we’ve outlived them...”

“How about school? Anything happen there?”

“When I got to school, I had a note the department chairman needed to talk to me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And?”

I smiled but shook my head. “Weird—someone leaned on the old bird. I had lunch with him and the Chancellor at the Faculty Club—on the Chancellor. They’ve known about the dojo for years, of course. Someone had spoken to them. I wonder who? What I’d done was important to national safety and security, part of the quiet battle, that kind of thing. They wanted to know if I needed any time off, or needed anyone to cover my classes in the next few weeks, reminding me I’m overdue for a sabbatical, a valued faculty member, the whole nine yards.”

She smiled and leaned back a bit. “Good. What else?”

I closed my eyes for a moment. “Classes were easier than I thought—although the students who know about the dojo want to know how many of them there were, and how big...” I finished tying the hakama. It felt reassuring.

I opened my eyes and looked at her. “Walking into the classroom was hard, but standing at the front of the room, I knew where I was again. The same here—when we put on the gi, we also put on the persona. When I truly stand on my feet, I am not lost. How was your day? It must have been rough, from the way you look.”

She moved closer. I held her hands.

“I worked with Janice, and we helped with his apartment.” She shook her head.

I pulled her closer, pulling her head to my shoulder. Her arms went around my waist.

“She’s going to make it. It’s going to take another few sessions, but she’s resilient.”

“And how about you?” I asked softly. “How resilient are you? What do you need?”

She sighed, shaking her head against my shoulder. “I don’t know. Doctor Richards arrives tomorrow morning. I’m meeting her when she gets in. We should both meet with her tomorrow afternoon; you’re with her one-on-one Wednesday, I’m Thursday.”

I held her gently. “I’m through at two thirty tomorrow. We could meet here.”

Another long sigh... “That would work.” She gave me a gentle hug, then stepped back.

She managed a smile. “You look a lot better now.”

“Yeah—hard to tell I’m wearing a diaper under this.”

She frowned, a pained look.

I moved closer, holding her. “An observation. I have so much to thank you for.”

Stepping out of the hallway to the main area of the dojo, Abiko had everyone sitting pretty, sitting with eyes closed. Fifteen present, a good turnout for Monday afternoon. The 7 o’clock class would be more indicative.

We start class in silent meditation. Christie and I bowed, then stepped on to the mat. I took my place at the front of the class, Christie sitting near the back.

I sat and closed my eyes. What was my body telling me today? The doctor visit, for its invasiveness, had been reassuring. He thought I was in superb condition and would heal quickly. Silly man—he only observed the physical... My face hurt, and my ribs. Funny, my right side hurt as well as my left, even though I hadn’t been hit on the right. The koshiita, the back of my hakama, felt reassuring. Sitting in the dojo was reassuring—healing, one breath at a time.

I sighed out a breath and opened my eyes. Abiko looked at me. I smiled and nodded.

“Rei!” she called out sharply.

We bowed to each other.

The students who hadn’t peeked looked quite surprised to see me, one side of my face colorfully bruised and swollen.

“Good afternoon,” I said. I couldn’t help it, feeling the smile fill my face. It hurt.

“I was in Chicago last week,” I told them. “And while I was there, I was jumped, robbed, and beaten like a cheap drum.” I let that sink in for a moment. “I know most of you have the same questions—how big were they, how many, and what do they look like now?”

That got gentle laughter.

“They took me by surprise, in a hotel elevator. Yes, that is possible. Three of them, average size, two men, a woman, and a large cart full of luggage, and I never touched them. I have a fractured cheekbone and damaged ribs. It will take me a few weeks to recover. But that doesn’t mean I can’t teach, or that you can’t learn. Part of the lesson for tonight is humility.”

I looked them over. Enough talking. I looked to Abiko. “Miss Abiko, you especially will have many opportunities to learn in the next few weeks.” I bowed to her, then patted the mat next to me. “Up here, please.” I was elevating her. “I should have done this a long time ago. Please accept my apology, Sensei.” I bowed to her, and saw the surprise on her face.

I looked over the crowd. “Sempai Patti? If you would, please?” I indicated the position Abiko had occupied. With a bow and a smile she moved over.

Then to the group at large, “Forward ukemi, both sides, two lines.” I pointed with both hands to the back of the dojo.

With a bow, we got started. My ribs may have slowed my body, but they didn’t affect my eyes or my tongue!

The second class was easier; we had a good turnout for that one as well. Christie and Joseph stuck it out through both. I guessed his training was mostly military. Christie really got into it; I could tell she was blowing off a lot of steam.

As we closed up, I took the sign-in sheet away from Abiko. “I’ll take care of that for a while. You’re going to be busy with more important things. Think about what techniques we should teach for tomorrow’s class, and Wednesday, and how to run your Sempai ragged.”

She smiled and frowned at the same time, and managed a bow.

Joseph had grabbed a broom and helped sweep the place out. As he put on his shoes, I asked him, “Did you have fun tonight?”

He gave me a sheepish grin. “Yes, Sensei!”

“Good! There’s only one class tomorrow.”

With a wider grin, he said, “I get to go home tonight!”

I shook my head and sighed, giving him a Sensei frown. Abiko and Christie laughed.

“Ahh, Joseph—you looked so promising,” I grumbled out.

He bowed to me again. “Thank you, Sensei. I enjoyed it, and learned a lot.”

I shook his hand. “Thank you for your help.”

Abiko said, “I’ll lock up—I’ve got some planning to do.”

“See you tomorrow afternoon then,” I told her.

Christie and I drove back to the house.

“Don’t your ribs still hurt?” she asked as we got ready for bed.

“Some times they hurt like hell,” I admitted.

She sighed, loud and long.

I pulled her to me. “I’ll hold you and protect you,” I whispered as we stood together.

She held me, then slid her hands down to my bottom. “Is that all you’ll do?” she asked with more than a hint in her voice.

“I’ll do my best,” I told her, then pulled her to a kiss.

She felt hungry. When we moved to the bed, she moved me on top of her, kissing with abandon. Her hunger and the feeling of her hands on my body soon had me hot for her as well. She enticed me with her fingers, helping me slide into her. We joined at both ends. I quickly matched my breathing to our motion to minimize the pain from my ribs.

It was hard for me to let go and let things happen. Her moaning and insistent hands helped. I came with a twinge. We held each other. I went to sleep on my back with her curled up at my side.

Tuesday was an early morning, the alarm clock not letting us hold each other as long as we needed to. We showered together, then had a bite to eat.

She picked up her phone and made a call, pressing more digits on the handset. She closed her phone a few moments later, raising an eyebrow.

“What is it?”

She smiled and moved closer. “A surprise—the flight is on time. I need to go to the airport. Thank you so much for holding me.”

I kissed the top of her head. “Thank you... Thank you for so much.”

She sighed in my arms. “What are you going to do?”

“Go to school and push paper. I’ll see you this afternoon—remember, stay centered, move with your breath.”

She held me closer. “Thank you—parts of the day are not going to be fun.”

We headed out.

As I was working on school administrivia, the phone rang.

“Roger Hawthorne,” I answered.

“Roger, is this a convenient time to talk?” a soft feminine voice asked.

I sighed, looking to her picture, the picture of the two of us in the Washington D.C. restaurant. “Barbara! Yes! How wonderful to hear from you! What can I do for you?”

“Roger, I’d heard you were injured. I wanted to check on you. Do you need anyone to nurse you back to health?”

I sighed; my ribs didn’t hurt as much now. “Not right now, no... I’m seeing very good doctors—I have an appointment tomorrow. Anything I can do for you?”

She laughed; a sound I’d not heard very much of late. “Oh Roger... You are too easy... I also have a proposition for you, and wanted to kidnap you for a few days so we could discuss it, when you’re well again of course.”

“When and where?”

“This weekend or next would be ideal. I’d like you to meet me in Miami, and we’ll go from there to a place I know.”

I sighed again. “That sounds very interesting. What’s the proposition?”

“Ahhh, Roger... That would be telling... I will tell you it involves traveling with me to Europe, and to Japan. I think you’d be a very good traveling companion...”

“That sounds fascinating,” I told her honestly. “It will take me a few days to figure out which weekend would be best. Can I call you and let you know?”

“Of course, Roger. Let me give you my phone numbers...”

I wrote them down. “I’ll give you a call when I have an answer.”

“Thank you, Roger—we’ll meet in Miami, and I can get there before you!”

“Barbara, thank you for a wonderful invitation!” I told her.

“I’m glad you’re looking forward to it, Roger—I know I am... I’ll wait for your call.”

I sighed again, and she laughed.

“I’ll call as soon as I know,” I told her. “Thank you again for calling.”

After I hung up the phone, I spent more than a few minutes gazing at the picture of us.

A knock on the door some time later—“Yes?” I called out.

I smiled as the man walked in to my office. I got up and walked around the desk, offering him my hand. “David, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The regional head of Kroll, a security firm, shook my hand and then closed the door.

“You tangled with something interesting, my friend,” he said as he eased himself into a guest chair.

I nodded, then smiled. “Let me guess—you’re here to congratulate me on my recent exploits, and check on my health.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Partially, but mainly I’m here because my boss told me to—he also made pointed inquiries as to why we aren’t using your services more.”

I shook my head. My face didn’t hurt at much; maybe I was used to it—I still had a large technicolor bruise. With a sigh I asked, “Is it customary to congratulate the football at the end of the game?”

He nodded, pondering with a wry smile. “It can feel that way, yes...”

“I don’t even know what side I was on,” I told him.

“How long have you worked for Ben Hammond?” he asked.

My turn to shrug—“I have no idea.”

He burst into laughter—that was evidently the funniest thing he’d heard in a while.

“Roger,” he told me when he’d settled down, “I have no idea how you became associated with them—and I don’t want to know! But his organization is highly respected. And he takes very good care of his people.”

I nodded. “That much I know.”

We spent a few minutes discussing other pleasantries, including giving some Kroll people dance lessons at the dojo, and at their facilities.

He was glancing around my office when he spotted Barbara’s picture on my desk. After a double-take he said, “Good God! You do get around!”

I told him of the two FBI agents visiting, spotting the picture, and leaving quickly thereafter.

He nodded, chuckling. “Ah, she is associated with a most interesting group...”

I frowned. “Let me guess—Bavarian Illuminati...”

He roared at that, tears of laughter filling his eyes.

“No, no, my friend,” he finally managed to say. “And besides, they’re not Bavarian...”

I had to chuckle a bit at that. “She just called,” I added.

That straightened him up a bit. “Business, or, ah, pleasure, if I may ask?”

“A bit of both, I think, but I’m not sure. What advice would you give me?”

He shook his head, smiling once more. “I would trust her with my life. Those people operate in an entirely different realm. They are also very particular about who they bring in to their circle. Mister Hammond’s loss...”

He moved around in his chair a bit, then reached inside his coat. “And speaking of other realms, do you by chance recognize these two individuals?”

He produced a small photo. It showed my two friends from the elevator.

“Why yes, I do. There are some people who would like to speak with them, myself included. Do you know where we could contact them by any chance?”

He smiled and nodded. “One of our associates spotted them in Corsica; Mister Hammond was informed late last night, I believe. How about this one?”

He handed me a picture of my house guest. “We’ve met. Why?”

He nodded again. “There are quite a few people interested in speaking with him as well.”

I handed him the pictures, which he returned to his coat.

“Ah, I’ve taken enough of your time. Call me when we can discuss training.” He gave me a serious look then, and frowned.

“Roger, it’s none of my business of course, but have you attended a charm school?”

I shook my head—in his parlance, “charm school” was a finishing school for agents.

He stood, and I stood with him.

“I urge you to attend—at least one. Make inquiries. I know Hammond has one. I’ll propose you for ours as well. If you’re to remain in this line of work, it will increase your life expectancy.”

I shook his hand. “David, thank you for your counsel.”

I showed him to the door and returned to my desk.

I looked at the photo again. More wheels within wheels? But they’d set me up with her. Why? Or had they?

I glanced over to the clock. Lunch time—I wondered how Christie was doing with the enigmatic Doctor Richards. How was Janice doing, and our house guest...

I got up and headed for the door. Lunch time. I had a one o’clock class to teach, trading off with a colleague who was covering for me tomorrow. That didn’t do my stomach any good—tomorrow wasn’t going to be any fun at all...

But that’s tomorrow.

Walking over to lunch, a thought flitted through my head—“Paranoia strikes deep—into your life it will creep...” Jefferson Airplane? No, Stills and Buffalo Springfield. I walked to a payphone outside the cafeteria and dialed my favorite toll-free support number. I asked for Hammond again.

When he came on the line about a minute later, I told him of my visit from Kroll, and the pictures. Yes, he’d been informed, and hoped to have more news soon. I’d done the right thing. I mentioned David’s suggestion of charm school. He agreed, and would check into it.

Funny, I didn’t mention my other call to him.

When I got back from lunch, there was a FedEx envelope on my desk. I didn’t recognize the sender, so I tossed it in my bag and headed off to class.

I arrived at the dojo by three; the others wouldn’t arrive for a half hour or so. I put on my gi, picked up my favorite wooden sword, and moved to the mat. In the beginning, you practice kata, formal movements. I closed my eyes and let the kata practice me.

Cutting eight ways—I breathed deep into my hara. The pain was there, but I’d practiced with pain before; it was part of the practice after all, part of life.

The sound of the door—when the kata completed me, I faced the door, opening my eyes, sword raised at the ready.

Christie and Janice were there, with someone I didn’t recognize—must be Doctor Richards. Janice and Christie looked wrung out—they’d evidently had an interesting time.

I bowed as I reached the edge of the mat. “You must be Doctor Richards,” I said, extending a hand.

She was tall, thin, with jet-black hair and piercing brown eyes. “A pleasure to meet you, Doctor Hawthorne,” she replied as she shook my hand.

“Well?” I asked the other two ladies.

Christie had a lopsided smile. “I convinced her class would do us a lot of good.”

I nodded. “Let’s see if we can find you a gi, then.”

“Oh, I brought sweats,” Janice said. She sounded chipper enough.

“And you?” I asked Doctor Richards.

“I’ll observe, thank you,” she said with a smile.

As it was almost a quarter to four, others started arriving. Abiko helped Janice find a gi.

Christie and I managed a moment together.

“You’re moving much better today,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders and stepping close.

“And you? How was your day?”

She sighed. I pulled her head to my shoulder again. “Angela and I talked. We worked with Janice, that’s why we’re late. You and I need to speak with her this evening.”

We had a slightly different crowd from Monday. I gave them the same short speech, except that Abiko sat next to me from the start.

Christie and Janice really threw themselves into the class—which happens quite literally in Aikido. I was impressed with how quick Janice was. I guessed she’d had Kenpo training, as well as some mixed-styles stuff. I moved her to working with one of Patti’s brown-belt friends, as she was too quick and hard for less skilled students, yet she didn’t know how to fall properly. I took Abiko aside and pointed this out to her, talking about teaching such students.

And all the while, Doctor Richards sat in the back of the dojo in a folding chair, observing.

Tuesday only has one Aikido class—the yoga folks have the dojo for the rest of the night. We headed to a Chinese place for dinner, Christie riding with me, Janice and Richards driving separately.

“You must have had an interesting day,” I suggested to Christie, holding her hand.

She sighed. “It was quite productive. I needed that class, though, especially after sitting for so long.”

“So did Janice...”

“Oh yeah—she really let it out. Angela is very good.”

“As good as you?” I asked.

“Different approach...” she said, and ran a hand along my shoulder.

“What’s on tap for tonight then?”

“After dinner? Go back to the house and talk some, get to bed early—you start with her at nine.”

“Where?”

“The doctor’s office. It’s safe and secure.”

I raised an eyebrow at that.

We didn’t have to wait long to get seated at the restaurant. After we sat down, Janice handed me a phone.

“Your new one,” she said.

I looked at it. It was one of the new phone-pager-combo gadgets. “Enjo Kosai,” I muttered.

“What’s that?” she asked, picking up her water glass and draining about half of it.

I smiled a bit. “You did very well tonight,” I told her.

She smiled and nodded, putting down the almost empty glass. “I needed that. What was it you said?”

“Enjo kosai—in Japan, the gift of a cell phone, always the latest and greatest, is one of the first gifts a sugar daddy gives to a young girl. It means ‘compensated dating.’”

She frowned but managed a wry smile as her glass was been refilled. “Oh, did you get the offer?” she asked, changing the subject.

I was puzzled. “Get what?”

“Someone at the university signed for it—a package with a settlement offer,” she added.

I nodded as I checked the teapot. It needed to steep a bit yet. “I got a FedEx package, but didn’t open it.” So she wasn’t actually changing the subject...

Christie sighed and shook her head. Janice frowned more.

“Should I go get it now?” I asked, a little perturbed.

Christie put an arm on mine. “No, of course not. But you should look at it this evening.”

“Yes, dear,” I said, smiling a little.

Our dinner conversation started on the weather. Richards mentioned she was from Boston; we talked about the wonderful Chinese restaurants in the Cambridge area around MIT.

It was sprinkling as we headed to our cars after dinner. Richards was going to follow Christie and me home.

“Janice,” I said as she started to walk away.

She turned, giving me a questioning look.

I took her hands. “I haven’t thanked you. I’m not sure I can—thank you for saving my life, for sticking your neck out, for everything.”

She shook her head slowly. I pulled her into a hug.

As we drove back to the house, Christie said, “You know, Janice blames herself for you getting hurt.”

I reached over to hold one of her hands. I clearly heard what she didn’t say—that she felt the same. “She explained things as best she could beforehand—you both did. I went into it with as much information as you could give me.”

“Oh Roger...”

“No regrets—we can’t undo the past. How do we learn from it, and move forward?”

She sighed and held my hand.

We talked with Richards, sitting in the living room drinking tea. She was different from Christie. With Christie, especially the last few days, I’d felt a partnership, I guess—we were working together. With Richards, she was leading, steering, but I was pulling the plow all by myself. We worked factually, clinically, I guess—even when it came to intimate details. I could tell Christie had told her a lot, just how much I wasn’t sure.

And as suddenly as we’d dived into it, Doctor Richards announced she’d see me early the next morning, and she was headed off to wherever she was staying—probably hanging upside down in a closet somewhere. No, that’s not fair. We covered a lot of ground in a short while.

As I locked the door and we heard the car move off through the gravel driveway, Christie was at my side again.

“Let’s go to bed,” she whispered.

I sat on the bed, waiting for her to complete her nighttime routine.

“Roger, what’s the matter?” she said as she walked up to me.

I put my hands on her hips; her skin felt cool and soft.

“I’m wound up, confused—help me, please...”

She sighed and pulled me close. My arms went around her waist.

But as I held her, I realized how tough the last few days had been to her as well. Who was here to comfort her, to help her?

I kissed her navel. “Please let me hold you,” I whispered to her.

As we got into bed, she moved to hold me to a breast. Instead of moving down a little, I settled on my back. “Let me hold you,” I told her. She curled up next to my side, her head on my shoulder. I held her. “I’ll protect you; you’re safe in my arms,” I told her.

She clutched me. I held her, whispering softly that I had her and she was safe, holding and whispering. After a while she started to cry. I moved to hold her in both arms, kissing the top of her head as I held her.

What had Denise done to us? I had a better feeling of what she’d done to me, and suspicions. But how could those suspicions change the way I felt about Christie?

I took another breath and focused on the present, on the woman I was holding in my arms. Right now, she needed to be held, and I needed to hold her.

I held her and rocked her. After she went to sleep, so did I.