Leonard required no reminder to call her. In light of the apparent urgency of her request it was exactly what he intended. He stuffed the little bag in his coat pocket. His appreciation or lack of Gabriel's unexpected company had taken a three hundred sixty-degree turn. The guy turned out to be a wealth of possible leads.
"Thanks, Gabriel. I appreciate you." He meant it.
"When you get a chance," Gabriel said, "we must finish that chess match. I left the board just as it was two months ago. You better be ready though. I've been studying that board. I plan to kick your ass and dethrone your king."
Leonard smiled. "Will do," he said, feeling a flutter of guilt that Gabriel had no idea his good friend had passed on. He also experienced a tinge of remorse for deceiving Gabriel, who he sensed was genuine in his feelings for Lawrence, but Leonard was on a mission and had no time to overindulge in feelings of guilt or sympathy right now. He did not want to chance Gabriel clamming up on any possible information he was privy to regarding Lawrence since he was such a close ally. Dismissing the thought, he placed the key in the door lock.
"One thing more." Gabriel moved closer to Leonard, lowered his voice to a whisper. "You haven't said anything to your colleagues about your little discovery yet, have you?"
Leonard was intrigued now though he had no idea what the hell Gabriel was referring to and it would have made him thoroughly suspicious if Leonard pressed him for more information, so he had no choice but to play along. "No, I have not," he replied with equal secrecy. "Why do you ask?"
"Why?" Gabriel repeated with a little bewilderment, "Man, you know you can't trust government types in general. I was contemplating that too while on sabbatical. Keep it to yourself long as you can until you can really be sure it's secure. Even then. Anyway." Gabriel started to leave, took a step down. "See you around. Hope it's soon. As usual I'll keep an eye on your place while you're gone."
"Gabriel, wait."
Gabriel returned. "Yeah?"
"I… I'm a little embarrassed," Leonard said, "but… I forgot your phone number. Can you right it down and I'll be sure to place in my cell phone when I get another one, which I plan on tomorrow."
"You forgot my number?" Gabriel said. "I didn't even know you memorized it. Who does that nowadays?"
"Yeah, well," Leonard said, feeling a little stupid.
Gabriel tore a piece of paper from the grocery bag. "Pen?"
Leonard knew he didn't have one but patted himself anyway out of pretense.
"Never mind," Gabriel said, reaching in his jacket pocket pulling one out. "Just wanted to see if you ever took my other advice to always carry a pen with you, absent minded professor that you be. You know that brilliant mind of yours is always working – sometimes." He smiled jovially.
Leonard smiled too. He was beginning to understand why Lawrence liked this guy, as Gabriel jotted the number on the paper and handed it to him.
"Don't lose it," Gabriel said.
"Promise," Leonard said, reflecting on Gabriel's mysterious revelation and the fact they would not be seeing the last of each other
Kevin Hollister is the director of the Central Intelligence Agency. He is in appearance an unassuming man in his late fifties with streaks of gray in an otherwise full head of hair. His eyes are narrow and seem always to be looking into the distance, except when he is involved in a one-on-one conversation. Further investigation into the man would reveal a person of sharp wit and intelligence. For him emotion plays a limited role in the world of clandestine activity and security for the United States of America. He brings to the table a wealth of knowledge in history, geography and the political sciences to name a few and is an aficionado of the Star Wars franchise. He is a man's man of the world and patriotically dedicated to his job. Some say he borders fanatical in his zealousness. He does not believe in wasting time or involving himself in petty squabbles or conversations. He sits in the back seat of a black Mercedes Benz C600 that cruises in silence on the wet black top of I-95 south. A clear Plexiglas, sound and bullet-proof partition divides him and his passenger from the middle-aged African American chauffeur. His companion seated next to him is none other than Bill Polar.
"You think we'll get his cooperation?" Hollister inquired, his voice soft wrapped in firmness.
"Can't be certain," Bill said.
"Did he mention anything at all about what topic or topics may have come up in the conversation he had with his son?"
"No sir." Bill said.
"Not surprising. Which could mean something poignant was shared between them. They weren't chit-chatting about the weather. Jack's not the kind of man to chit-chat. Given the situation and relationship that's developed between he and Leonard, I'd bet he knows more than he let on about."
"Guaranteed," Bill agreed.
Silence between them returned. With the exception of office and residential buildings lights glittering in the distance through the rainfall, night blanketed the city, as both men looked out of the tinted windows onto the blackness each ruminating in their private thoughts.
"He actually may have said more than he realized," Bill said, breaking the silence.
"Based on?"
"He asked me whether or not I knew if Lawrence was murdered."
Hollister looked at Bill wearing a rare expression of surprise. "You think that may have been what he and Leonard discussed?" Hollister asked.
"Strong possibility," Bill said.
Hollister returned his gaze out the window, retreating again into deep contemplation. "That complicates an already complicated matter," he said. "And how did you respond?"
"Surprised. Indignant even. And denial because I really don't know."
"Of course," Hollister agreed. "Think he believed you?"
"Jack and I have mileage, sir. But he's suspicious by training. Sir, do you think Leonard will look to avenge his brother's murder if that does end being the case?"
Hollister entertained two thought dimensions: one here in the car with Bill, the other in a place known only to himself. "You tell me. You know him better than I do."
Bill took in a deep breath that coincided with his thoughts. "It's been some years since I had any contact with Leonard. Knowing what I do about his psychological profile, he's capable. Violence is something he goes out of his way to avoid. It's almost devotional. But not just because he morally dislikes violence. His real opposition to it is because he's damn good at not suffering. Meaning, his capacity to feel guilt or remorse is extremely limited and completely under his control. This is his twin brother after all, and blood can run thicker than morality at times."
"He sounds extremely capable," Hollister said with uneasiness.
Bill said. "Yet, he has a deep sense of compassion."
Hollister surmised thoughtfully, "The ability to turn on or off his psychopathic tendency. Did the rest of them possess this ability - the brother and mother?"
"During our studies of them at the time, no," Bill said. "Appeared only Leonard did."
"At the time?" Hollister queried. "Clarify."
"Their abilities showed promise of progressing in the feature, developing. In other words, they could potentially develop an ability that at one point wasn't displayed. So, I can't be certain if the mother now has advanced to that faculty or not."
"Jesus" Hollister was impressed, definitely interested and a bit frightened at the prospect. "They're potentially more dangerous than I even realized. Would love to have this Leonard on our team. You think that's possible?"
Bill pondered a beat before he said, "Anything's possible, sir, but I wouldn't entertain too much hopefulness given the circumstances."
Hollister says, "This has the potential of getting ugly."
"Takes time, sir, Bill added. "Energy to build something worthwhile and only seconds to destroy it. Remember the Titanic? We presume our establishment is just that - indestructible. We don't say it aloud, but our actions and policies speak louder. To be honest, mister Hollister, potentially, Leonard is the iceberg that proved indestructibility, isn't."
Hollister did not appreciate the sound of that at all only because of the truth it contained. He was not the kind of man that dealt lightly with threats real or potential.
"Can Jack be trusted," Hollister fished. "Where would you place his loyalty?"
"He's married," Bill said. "A family man. Been out of the game a long, but I sense he longs to play again, somewhat."
"Somewhat?"
"Shaka Zulu."
"The historic South African ruler of the Zulu people? Hollister acknowledged. "What of him?"
It was a story Bill loved telling. "During the early 1800's he was King of the Zulu nation. He was cunning, ruthless, showed little to no mercy, except when it benefited him in defeating or annihilating an enemy. Through his methods, philosophy and brutality, he built a formidable legacy and army of warriors to such an extent that for fifty years after Shaka's assassination the British could not conquer that part of Africa."
Hollister was not the least interested or impressed. "Your point?"
"Shaka practiced separating married soldiers from unmarried ones," Bill continued. "He created separate living quarters for them because he believed a married man was a necessary evil – a weakness to an extent but a part of his army, nonetheless. Since his retirement Jack's had more time to indulge in weakness."
"You had to beat around the proverbial bush to just say that?" Hollister said. "So, your saying use him to our advantage."
"Wouldn't hurt," responded Bill. "We're basically set on that course anyway. May as well try to salvage something out of it before the worse happens."
Hollister pondered that recommendation for some time.
"Consider this also," Hollister said. "On the other side of that equation it could give them both time that could eventually work against us. I deem it safe to assume Jack's commitment is solidified to what's left of his family and I presume also he too is aware of his son's potential."
"Very much so," Bill confirmed. "He was at the forefront in the development of the program that harnessed their abilities."