Someone to Watch Over Her Ch. 02

"Exactly," I said. "You just made the argument far better than I ever could."

"Somehow, I doubt that," she chuckled. "I think you know more than you ever tell anyone, Canton."

"Of course," I smirked. "If I told you everything I know I would have no reason to feel superior."

She looked up at me and shivered. "You scare me sometimes, Canton. You're so kind to me, but I think you would be a very bad enemy."

"You never have to worry about that, my dear," I told her. "There's nothing that could ever make me your enemy. I love you, after all."

She burrowed closer into my side. "Thank you, Canton," she whispered.

"You're quite welcome," I told her.

She stayed with me a week and we checked up on the progress of the woman and children we had rescued from the Knights. She was doing quite well. She was working as a translator at the embassy. It turns out that she was quite fluent in Spanish and was fitting in well. The haunted look she had about her was gone, and her children had gone from being frightened waifs to confident and quite pretty young ladies. Fallon was happy with the developments and that made me happy.

She flew back to Mexico and then home. Maria told me she picked up a tail in Mexico, but I expected that. There was a flurry of paperwork as the DOD filed injunction after injunction, but the case moved ahead anyway. Fallon was racking up a ton of billable hours, but Thorpe was riding high and had plenty of money. I suspect her firm was pleased both with the money and the publicity they were getting.

Fallon was receiving death threats from "patriots" who accused her of "damaging the security of the country." I agreed with Samuel Johnson who said, "patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel." She didn't seem bothered by it, either.

I kept getting my ridiculous treatments. They went on for six months, and suddenly I noticed one day that I didn't remember the last headache. I went in for a scan and the tumor was shrinking. I was astounded. After eighteen months is was the size of a pea and I went back to the oncologist who gave me a year to live. He had very little to say. I asked him if he was incompetent or merely a fool. He asked me to leave. I complained about him to the AMA and there was a hearing. I attended and gave my testimony. He talked about "spontaneous remission" and some other claptrap. I asked him what he would recommend for treatment given the current state of the tumor and he recommended surgery.

I spoke to my German friend and he insisted that his treatment would make the surgery unnecessary. I believed him. My former oncologist was mugged on the way home from his office a week later. Oddly, a very precise surgery was done on him and his left pinkie finger was removed and stitched up perfectly. According to him, it was done without the benefit of anesthesia. I suspect it was quite painful. His ego prevented him from learning any valuable lessons, but I was quite satisfied.

Fallon was ecstatic with the news. She wanted to fly down and see me, but her case seemed to be wrapping up in a satisfactory manner. Several low level DOD "rogue" staffers had been punished and the State Department had issued a statement that Mr. Thorpe was not going to be charged with any crime, and that he was not being sought in any investigation. It took her two months to finally bring it to a conclusion, and she took a sabbatical. She stayed a week with me in Costa Rica and went to see some old college friends in Canada. We agreed to meet in Denpasar on the two year anniversary of our discussion in the Knights territory.

They had ceased to function as an organization, and I told that good news to Fallon when she arrived. She was as stunning as ever, and she came running to me as soon as her feet hit the driveway. As usual, she threw herself through the air and I was forced to catch her. Not that I minded, but she was just so excited she glowed.

She took me in and sat me down in a big club chair, pulling another so close that our knees bumped when she sat down. We drank rye whiskey and smoked half a cigar in comfortable silence. She tapped the ash off her cigar into an ashtray and sat back, taking a sip of her whiskey.

"Truth time, Canton," she said. "Do you want to go first or do you want me to?"

"May I ask you a question?" I said.

"Yes, no secrets," she tossed her mane of hair back.

"You said you knew who I was. What did you mean by that?" I asked.

"It had two meanings," she said. "I'll tell you the first meaning and then it's your turn."

"Ah, we have rules," I said. "Okay, let's hear that famous first meaning."

"Don't be snide," she said. "It doesn't suit you. I do know who you are."

To be continued in Chapter 3.