1 3 7 – ZOË (35 page)

We turned right when we emerged from the alley and he hailed a cab.   

“Do you think we’ll be safe in D.C.?” I asked before sliding into the backseat.

“After the incident in Tahiti I think staying here i
s just as safe as skipping town,” he replied, sliding in next to me.

“
I’m tired of running.”

Lance gave the driver our address and then turned to me.  “So am I, sweetheart.”   

When we were inside the condo, I put the kettle on to make tea.  Our minds were recapping recent events and trying to make sense of everything.  We were quietly pensive as we sat at the kitchen table drinking hot tea, so it was no wonder that I jumped when the doorbell rang.

Lance frow
ned.  “Who the hell is that?”

It rang again and he stood. 
My gut instinct took over and I put out my arm to stop him.  “Wait, don’t answer it,” I warned.

It rang once more and then there was silence. 
“I’m going to see who it is.”

He froze at the sound of someone tampering
with the door knob.  Pulling me into the bedroom, he opened one of the dresser drawers and pulled out a gun.  He pointed to the opposite corner of the room and hid behind the bedroom door.  I wondered how many weapons he owned and reminded myself to ask him that question later.

Suddenly, w
hoever was behind the door shot the lock and kicked the door down.  We heard only one set of footsteps entering the condo.

“Lance?  Zoë?”

At the sound of Brady’s voice we both relaxed.  Lance, however, left the bedroom with gun aimed. 

Brady dropped his gun and threw up his hands immediately.  “Whoa!”

Lance lowered his weapon.  “Sorry.  Didn’t know if you were alone or not.”

Brady bent to retrieve his gun and placed it in its holster.  “Why didn’t you answer the damn door?!”

Lance looked at me and I said, “I told him not to.”

Brady sighed in frustration.  “I thought you were both…”

He trailed off and didn’t finish the sentence, so Lance finished it for him.  “Dead?”

Brady nodded and rubbed his chin. 
“The moment you signed the new ALTSYS contract annulling the previous one it went public.”

“Good grief!  T
hat was only an hour ago,” I cried in disbelief.

He shrugged.  “We live in a world of real time.”

I felt a tension headache coming on and rubbed my forehead.  “It’s like living in a fish bowl…I can’t go anywhere or do anything without it being public knowledge.”

Lance pla
ced his arm around me.  “No, sweetheart, you can’t.  Sorry.”  He looked to Brady.  “Why would you think we were dead?”

Brady’s eyes met mine.  “Because Michael has already been attacked.”

“What?” I said as my hand flew to my chest.

“I told you the UAN deal was important and that if it didn’t go through there would be serious consequences for your ex-husband.”

“What happened?” Lance asked.

“He
was beaten- badly. His attackers believed they had killed him and left him for dead.  One of the prison guards found him and called an ambulance.”

“Who would attack him inside a federal prison?” I asked.

“Other inmates, of course- it only takes a quick phone call to get the job done,” Brady replied.

I winced.  “How bad is it?”

“He’s in a coma and was just admitted to the hospital a few minutes ago.”

I could see Lance was upset by the news so I took his hand in mine.  While I no longer loved Michael, I still cared for his well-being despite what he did to me. 

“I’m going to make a call and set up some surveillance for you,” Brady said before going out into the hallway.

Chapter Fifteen

The attack
on Michael’s life had been swift and brutal: three broken ribs, ruptured spleen, broken jaw, skull fracture and several non-lethal stab wounds that required dozens of stitches.  Miraculously, the knife’s blade had missed his heart, lungs and liver.  The worse damage, however, were two broken vertebrae.  Michael was alive, but he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair with limited mobility.  Since there were no further attacks made on his life, the authorities (including the CIA) assumed that whoever had ordered the hit was satisfied with the results.  Although Charles White was the primary suspect there was not enough evidence for a conviction.

Lance and I were not allowed to see
Michael in the hospital. Brady, however, was kind enough to keep us posted on his slow and painful recovery.  Many things happened while Michael was recuperating.  The first thing I did after I found out about the prison attack was to call my attorney.  I wanted to sell ALTSYS as soon as possible, but not just to anyone…I wanted to sell the company to a philanthropist; someone with a tremendous amount of power and money who could stand up to the likes of Charles White and his team of Big Oil billionaire bullies.  While I willingly signed the documents to annul the clean energy deal with the UAN to keep us safe, I still believed clean energy was the best thing for the environment, and everyone deserved to have access to its technology.  My goal was to sell ALTSYS to someone with the balls to make that happen.

I was thrilled when I
received a call in late January from a French young man who inherited more money than he knew what to do with, and whose goal in life is to improve living conditions for the less fortunate.  When he made me an offer far below my asking price, I accepted it against the advice of my attorney.  The original UAN plan and all the contracts were still in existence, just annulled.  It would not be difficult for the new president and CEO of ALTSYS to put the gears into motion and re-open negotiations with the UAN government.

Selling AL
TSYS was a load off my back.  What a relief!  No one bothered with us, and (thankfully) we never again heard from Charles White. 

We were
free
.

Lance and I began to relax and settle comfortably into our lives. 
When he asked me to marry him (again) during the first week of February, I said yes.  We enjoyed a simple ceremony on the Brazilian island of
Fernando de Noronha
, which is one of the most beautiful and secluded places on the planet.  Maddy was my maid of honor, and we had a blast.  After Maddy flew back home, Lance and I spent the next two months travelling throughout Brazil and enjoying one another’s company.  I felt like the luckiest, happiest woman in the world.

***

I received a strange phone call in mid-April.  I didn’t recognize the voice because it sounded so thin and weak. The incoming image on my wrist-phone was intentionally blocked by the caller.

“Hello, princess,”
the caller said. 

“Who is this?” I demanded with the sinking feeling that I already knew who it was.

“Zoë, it’s me, Michael.”

I couldn’t say anything for a full ten seconds.  “Yes?”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I replied coolly.  “How are you, Michael?”

“I’ve seen better days.”  He paused.  “I know I have no right to ask, but I need to speak with you…and Lance.”

I certainly wasn’t expecting this.  “Why?”

“I just…”

To my s
hocked surprise, I heard sobs.  “Michael?”

He sniffed
as he regained control of himself.  “Forgive me,” he said.  “Please come and see me.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow they allow visitors at ten sharp.  Visits are brief.”  He paused.  “Will you come…
please
?”

In all the years I’ve known Michael, I had never heard him
once beg or grovel. 
Never
.

“Yes,” I said firmly.
  “We will be there tomorrow at ten.”

***

Lance and I were not prepared for what we saw the next day.  The frail, old man who sat in the robotic wheel chair bore no resemblance to the ruthless and powerful Michael Adams we both knew.  The man who came to greet us inside the federal prison visitation room had sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, and appeared to be in constant pain.  His eyes revealed deep regret and self-condemnation. 

Michael
was a broken man.

The state-of-the-art wheel chair was quick and silen
t, stopping just in front of a metal table.  On the other side of the table were two metal chairs in which Lance and I sat side by side.  We were quick to notice that he was not wearing the same orange uniform other prisoners were forced to wear.  Instead, he was dressed in a navy cashmere sweater and tan slacks.  Brady’s comment about prisoners with deep pockets came to mind.

Michael’s face cracked slightly; it was an attempt at a smile.
  “Thank you both for coming,” he said in the same weak, raspy voice I’d heard on the phone yesterday.  He looked to Lance and added, “I hear congratulations are in order, little brother.”

Lance
nodded in reply and blushed in discomfort.  After all, he had married his brother’s ex-wife.

Michael turned his gaze upon me.  “And Zoë looks as beautiful as ever.”

“Thank you, Michael,” I said. 

Lance cleared his throat. 
“How are you feeling?  Brady told us what happened.”

“He kept us posted on your progress
while you were in the hospital,” I interjected.

Michael’s eyes looked sad. 
I thought he was going to cry, but he kept it together.  “I’m fine now,” he lied.  “I asked you both to come here today because…” He paused and searched for the right words.  “Because I want to say I’m sorry. 
For everything
.”

There was
an awkward moment of silence before he totally lost it and cried like a child.  My eyes welled up with tears and Lance eventually reached over to pat his brother’s hand.

“Do not touch the prisoner!”

Lane and I looked at the female guard glaring at us from the doorway. 

Michael composed himself after a few minutes. 
“You didn’t deserve to contract the Pod…I’ve lived with that guilt for years,” he confessed, eyeing me steadily.  “And you certainly didn’t deserve Charles White hunting you down in Tahiti.  I’m so grateful he didn’t hurt you.”  He lowered his head to rub his temples.  “Prison has a way of…of making you reflect on the things you’ve done that landed you here in the first place.  And I’ve done a lot of bad things.”

He started
to break down again.  “Please Michael, don’t beat yourself up like this,” I said. “I’m glad you’ve come to this realization and I appreciate your apology.”

This seemed to calm him down.

“Zoë’s right,” Lance added.  “We both appreciate your apology.”

Michael
nodded and bit his lip as more tears streamed down his face.  “I love you both,” he breathed before a loud buzzer went off announcing the end of the visit. 

“Time’s up!”
 

Michael
nodded to the female guard.  “Goodbye,” he said softly.

S
lowly, he wheeled around and turned his back on us.  He then disappeared quietly through a metal doorway without a backward glance.  Lance and I sat there, stunned.  Eventually, we stood up and walked towards the exit.  We were silent as we made our way across the parking lot towards the car. 

I looked up.  The morning sun
was bright, happy and
promising
.  It was indeed a privilege to see it shining in the cloudless blue sky, just as it was a privilege for us to stand tall and healthy.  I breathed in the scent of spring; fresh and green. 

Michae
l Adams would never again know the joy of such a simple moment.

Lance took my hand and pulled me close in order to kiss my lips. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’
ll be fine,” I replied honestly.

He smiled. 
“I love you.”

I smiled
back at him.  “I love you, too.”