Greg Cox: Loose ends

"You go, girl!" Maria cheered her on. "If this works, I will never mock your Pod-given talent for flirtation again, I promise!"Like I really care," Isabel shot back tartly, the brief exchange of repartee providing a boost to her confidence. She dialed Ramirez's number and tossed her hair back before lifting the phone to her ear. "Watch and learn."The lieutenant picked up on the second ring. "Hello?" he answered, and Isabel thought his voice sounded more strained than it had at the Caverns. Bet he had a sleepless night, she guessed, especially after Max and Michael crashed his midnight rendezvous with Morton. "Who is this?" he asked worriedly.

"Hi, David!" she said cheerily, not wanting to lower the boom right away. "This is Isabel." It took her a second to recall what alias she had used before. "Isabel DeLuca. From the Bottomless Pit, remember?"Maria shot daggers at Isabel, but the name rang a bell with Ramirez. "Oh yeah, right." A bit of enthusiasm crept into his voice, but he still sounded worn-out and distracted. "Thanks for calling, doll, but, umm, now is not really good for me. Maybe some other time…"Isabel spoke quickly, before he could even think of hanging up. "That's what I'm calling about, David." Her fingers nervously shredded a paper napkin as she trapped the phone between her head and shoulder. "I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you yesterday." She winced and chewed on her lip. "You see, I know all about your… arrangement…with Joe Morton."Dead silence greeted her unexpected declaration. "David? Are you still there?" At first, she thought maybe he had dropped the phone and run away, but then she realized she could still hear breathing coming over the line. Fast, erratic breathing, like someone in a state of shock. "David? Talk to me."Who are you?" he whispered hoarsely, in a broken, wretched parody of the deep, masculine voice he had used with her in the caverns. He didn't even sound like the same person anymore. Instead of a cocky air force test pilot, confident in his appeal, Ramirez now sounded like a man whose nerves had been stretched to the breaking point, if not beyond. "For God's sake, who are you really?"Isabel felt like the straw that broke a once-proud soldier's back. "That's not important now," she told him bluntly. She would have time enough to feel bad for Ramirez later. "What you need to know is that Morton has kidnapped a friend of mine, an innocent young woman, and we believe her life is in danger."A woman?" Ramirez couldn't believe his ears. "What are you talking about? I spoke with Morton five minutes ago, and he didn't say anything about a woman!"Isabel's breath caught in her throat. Ramirez was in touch with Morton, and maybe even knew where the gun- man was right now. "Listen to me, David," she said urgently. "You have to believe me. Morton abducted our friend at gunpoint only a few hours ago. If you know where he is, you have to tell us."But the distraught lieutenant sounded more obsessed with his own swiftly unraveling future than with Liz's safety. "I don't understand," he pleaded. "Who are you? How do you know all this? Who told you?" His voice went from a whisper to a tortured wail. "Are you FBI? CIA? Majestic?" He grew more panicked by the moment, until she could practically see the blood draining from his face. "Oh, good Lord, you're with the Special Unit!"Hardly, Isabel thought. "I'm not out to get you, David. That's not what this is about. We just want to save our friend."We?" Ramirez echoed. "Who is 'we'?" He started shouting into the phone, so loudly that Isabel had to pull the receiver farther away from her ear. "Leave me alone, why don't you? For God's sake, leave me alone!"He hung up abruptly. "David?" Isabel asked, but he was already gone. She redialed hastily, only to listen to the phone ring repeatedly, going unanswered. Don't do this, David, she thought despairingly. Talk to me.

But the futile ringing went on and on. Isabel finally gave up and put the phone down. "It's no good," she informed the others, all of whom had been hanging on her side of the dialogue with Ramirez. "I think he knows where Morton is, but he won't pick up the phone anymore." She looked at Max apologetically. "I think I scared him off."You did your best," Max assured her. "He's trafficking in top secret materials, remember. At this point, the slightest hint of exposure probably causes him to wig out." He regarded Isabel thoughtfully, and she recognized the pensive expression on her brothers face; he was thinking strategically, like a general. Or a king.

"There may be another way," he stated after a few minutes. "Isabel, I know this is asking a lot of you, but do you think maybe you can contact the lieutenant more directly, mind to mind?"I don't know, Max," she said, shaking her head dubiously. She wanted to help, but… "You know that I usually can't enter anyone's thoughts unless they're sleeping, and Ramirez didn't sound like he was planning to take a nap anytime soon. In fact, he sounded like he hasn't been sleeping much at all."And who could blame him? she thought. She wouldn't want to have her life and liberty in the hands of a hot-tempered sociopath like Joe Morton. Should I have told Ramirez about Okada's murder, she wondered, or would that have just panicked him more? "I understand," Max said, entreating her with his eyes. Even if she didn't entirely approve of their risky relationship, Isabel knew how much Liz Parker meant to him. "I'm not asking for any guarantees-I realize the odds are against this working-but please, Iz, for Liz's sake, try."Feeling the weight of her brothers hopes and fears settling heavily upon her unsteady shoulders, Isabel picked up the scrap of paper bearing the lieutenant's phone number. Generally, she preferred to have an actual photo to focus upon, but perhaps she could use this improvised 237 RDSWELL calling card, personally inscribed by Ramirez to her, as a stepping-stone to his unconscious mind? "No promises," she reminded everyone, as she held the scribbled phone number before her eyes. Paging David Ramirez, she thought.

Ready or not, here 1 come.

It took Lieutenant Ramirez much longer than expected to find the uncharted cave, so that Morton was impatient and irritable by the time, several calls for directions later, that the overwrought air force pilot arrived at the entrance to the cave, flashlight in hand. With her wrists bound, Liz couldn't check what time it was, but she guessed that it had be to around three in the afternoon. Her stomach grumbled unhappily, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. That's the least of my problems, she thought, wondering how long she could keep her captor thinking that she was an alien. Would her noisy stomach pangs give her away, or would Morton just assume that extraterrestrial humanoids got hungry, too? "What the hell took you so long?" Morton griped as Ramirez entered the cave, the beam of his flashlight darting over the rough, uneven stone floor. Tve been cooling my heels in this goddamn rockpile for hours!" the bad-tempered gunman complained.

"It's not my fault!" Ramirez insisted, looking much as Isabel and Max had described him, only a lot more agitated and disheveled. Sweat streaked his bronzed features and soaked through his blue, short-sleeved dress shirt. "This place isn't exactly on the map, you know. Besides, die roads around here are prowling with State Patrol cars. I got stopped and questioned-three times!- before I finally found a place where I could park my car and head into the hills."His flashlight searched the crevices of the secluded hideaway, quickly falling upon Liz's captive figure, duct tape and all. A tic in his cheek twitched alarmingly as he stared wide-eyed at Morton's prisoner. "Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, going pale beneath his coppery tan. "It's true. You have snatched some girl!" He spun around, exposing Morton to the harsh white beam. "You kidnapped a teenager!"No," Morton rebutted, without a trace of remorse. "I captured an alien." He advanced on Ramirez, suddenly sounding suspicious. "Who told you I took the girl? The police? The news?"But Ramirez, shocked by Morton's insane explanation, wasn't listening to the gunman's questions. "An alien? Are you out of your frigging mind?" He swung the flashlight back toward Liz, confirming that she looked entirely human, then unleashed a flood of hysterical invective at Morton. "You maniac! You rabid psychotic! You've gone completely insane!"Squatting on the cold stone floor, several feet away, Liz saw a potential opportunity arising from the escalating conflict between the two men. This might be my chance to make a break for it, she realized, if Ramirez distracts Morton enough. Her gaze turned again toward the gaping darkness at the back of the cave, and her nerve faltered. Did she really want to run blindly into that unknown abyss? Ramirez shoved past Morton, the beam of his flashlight sweeping the cave. "Where is my money, you lunatic?" he demanded, the shadows under his ravenous eyes making him look like one of the living dead. "You promised me the rest of my money!" The shifting light revealed the open backpack, lying next to the locked attache case, and the frenzied lieutenant descended upon the canvas pack like a ravenous vulture, only to find it frustratingly empty. "Where is it?" he shouted at Morton, throwing the worthless pack to the cave floor. His cheek twitched spasmodically, like a severed frog's leg attached to a galvanic current. "Where is my money, you blackmailing son of a bitch!"The hefty killer stood his ground, one hand on the grip of the pistol stuck in his waistband. "Later," he barked. "Tell me more about those state troopers. How much do they know about the girl?"Good question, Uz thought, more than a little curious about that herself. She cautiously flexed her stiff leg muscles, restoring their circulation. Her whole body tensed, poised to run the minute Morton's full attention was elsewhere.