Third Half (37 page)

             
She heard Marsh gasp and knew he had been shot again.  This
time trying to save her brother.

             
Jack made it to their side.  "Liane, get out of here!" he yelled
just as a louder explosive sound filled the air.

             
"Jack!" She gasped, waiting for her brother to fall, then
instead, watched as he knelt down beside her.  She turned to see Christine standing above Art's lifeless body with the shotgun still in
her hand.

             
"Untie my hands and let's get Marsh out of here before she
decides to turn that thing on us too," Jack said quickly.

             
"Will he be all right?  Liane asked as she struggled with the
ropes biding Jack's hands.

             
"It's bad, Liane.  Damn bad," he said grimly as he checked his
friend's wounds then looked back at his sister's tear-stained face. 
"Liane . . .Hey, I don't know what the hell has been going on, but right
now you can't go to pieces on us.  We've got to get him to a hospital!"

             
"I'll be okay."  She forced the words through trembling lips as
she watched her brother lifting his friend.  The man she loved.

I

             
"It's been a long night," Jack said as he came to sit beside
Liane, handing her a cup of coffee.  "Are you okay?"

             
She nodded, then burst into tears.  "When will someone tell us
how he is?"

             
"Soon, Sis, soon."  Jack put a comforting arm around her
shoulders.

             
"Your friend is out of surgery," the doctor said as he came into
the waiting room, still dressed in a green surgery gown.  "He's alive,
but in pretty bad shape.  He lost a great deal of blood."

             
"Will he be okay?"  Liane rushed to face the doctor.  "He will
pull through, won't he?"

             
"I think it's safe to say his chances are good.  He's strong, and
in good shape."  The doctor looked down at her.  "Right now, you
look like you could use some attention."

             
"I'm fine . . .really," Liane said with very little conviction.

             
"I can give you something," the doctor offered.

             
"No . . .I'm just concerned about Marsh," she insisted.

             
"I'll look after her,"  Jack promised as he took his sister's hand.

             
"As for your friend . . .He's going to have a long road ahead of
him.  There was some serious damage.  He's going to need all the
support he can get."

             
"When can we see him?"  Jack asked.

             
"Not until tomorrow," the doctor replied.  "I think right now,
it's best you all get some rest.  You look like you need it."

I

             
She and Jack had taken rooms at a small motel near the
hospital and Liane had spent most of the night explaining to her
brother about the events that had taken place while trying to find him. 
The one thing she had carefully omitted was that she had fallen in
love with his partner.

             
When Jack finally knocked on her door the next morning she
had to drag herself out of bed.  All the events had finally taken their
toll and she was exhausted.

             
"Ready to go to the hospital?  he asked as he came into the
room.  "Ooops, sorry I woke you.  I guess I forgot everything you've
been through."

             
"It's okay, I wanted to leave early anyway."  She stretched with
a yawn, then turned slightly, avoiding his eyes.  "I won't be going to
the hospital with you.

             
"Why not?"

             
"I hardly think a visit from me will improve Marsh's spirits. 
You go alone, Jack.  I'm going back to Los Angeles and taking the
first flight I can get to New York."  She forced a smile.  "It'll be good
to get home."

             
"Do you have any message for me to give Marsh?"

             
She turned to stare at her brother, trying to decide whether to
say what was on her mind.  "No.  But you can do one thing for me,
Jack.  Don't even mention me to him.  I'm certain he'll be happier if he
can forget he ever met me."

             
Jack whistled.  "That's a tall load."

             
"Please," she said softly.

             
"Okay, Sis, if you're sure that's how you want it," he said and
turned for the door.

             
"I'm sure."  Then she smiled.  "And what about you?  What
will you do now?"

             
"Go back to work when the next job comes along,"  he replied. 
"Until then, I guess I have a new barn to build and probably stables
from what you've told me.  Then I'll take some time to  enjoy my
horses.  You must come up there sometime . . .It's really a very restful
place.  At least, usually."  He winked and opened the door.

             
"One question."  She stopped him.  "I know M.C. is going to
ask, and I'm still not sure I know the answer.  What exactly are you
anyway?  A Federal Agent working for the government, posing as a
soldier-of-fortune, or a soldier-of-fortune hired to act as a government
agent?"

             
He laughed.  "I wonder that myself sometimes.  I suppose a
little of both."
             

             
"A little of both," she repeated.  "But why did you get into it in
the first place?  Was it the money?"

             
He closed the door again.  "Well, Sis.  The money is good. 
But considering the risks . . . well, you found out about them first
hand.  Anyway, I've spent my life being the third half, never certain
exactly what I wanted to do.  Now I am certain.  For the first time I
feel like I'm doing what
I
want to do.  And I can help other people
while I'm doing it."

             
"Was it the same for Marsh?"

             
"Marsh has been in it a lot longer than I have.  But I'd say it's
pretty much the same reasons.  He did some special work for the
military when he was in the gulf.  When he got out he planned a
simple charter service."  Jack laughed.  "But it seems the government
wasn't through with him yet.  Whenever they need a special job, they
come to him."

             
"Like this one."

             
"Yep."  Jack nodded.  "His first one with a partner."

             
"I remember him saying something like that," she said.  "Well
Brother, in case you don't already know it
–
as a partner, he's one heck
of a good one to have.  He worked hard to get you back."

             
"Yea, with his other partner."

             
She looked away as her eyes misted over.  "Jack, all I did was
get in the way.  That's why I don't ever want you to talk to him about
me.  Trouble is something everyone wants to forget."

             
"Trouble."  Jack took her chin and turned her tear-stained face
toward him.  "Don't you think that should be up to him to decide?"

             
"He already has decided that, Jack."  She sighed.  "When he
thought he was rid of me the first time . . .and the second . . .and so
on.  This time I will kindly grant his wish."

             
"If you're that certain . . ."

             
"I am."

             
"Okay."  He shrugged.  "I'll be going then.  But remember, I
expect you to visit me at the farm as soon as I'm home."

             
"And I expect you to stop by and see Mary Catherine."  At the
thought of her sister Liane pulled a face.  "After I'm through
explaining everything to her, she'll probably never speak to me again."

             
"Hardly, Sis.  She's more forgiving than that.  Even if she will
have to change some of her plans."

             
"Because of everything I did while I was pretending to be her."

             
"I like to think she'd have done exactly the same thing if she
hadn't gotten so ill from her shots."

             
Liane blushed, doubting that she would have. 
Not everything,
Jack.  Not everything. 
She quickly gave her brother a hug good-bye.

I

             
Liane was happy for the added work of returning to the play. 
As soon as she had returned home and called to let Martin know she
was all right, he poured out the dozens of problems he had had with
Tina Berry. 

             
"Please, Liane.  Come back to the show," he pleaded.

             
For a month she was busy rehearsing and studying her lines,
with little time for anything else.  The busy pace was like balm to a
wound that refused to heal.

             
Martin had also expected to pick up their relationship where it
had left off, but soon noted the changes in her.  "Who is he?" Martin
asked grimly, totally surprising her one night over dinner in her
apartment.

             
"He?  What in the world do you . . .?" She stopped, knowing
Martin could see right through her.  He'd watched her act on the stage,
and knew that was what she was doing now.

             
"I'd rather know now, while we're still only friends," he replied
with a serious look.  "Who's the lucky man?"

             
"Just someone I met.  Out paths crossed briefly.  It was almost
like a scene from one of your plays."  She looked at Martin with a sad
smile.  "But it's over now."  She laughed without humor.  "Fortunately
for him.  As it was, I nearly got him killed."

             
"I assume it was someone you met while trying to locate your
brother."  He reached for her hand.  "Do you want to talk about it?"

             
"No.  I want to forget it.  It's all over now."

             
"That look on your face doesn't say it's over for you."

             
"But it is!"  She got up abruptly.  "And we've both returned to
whom we really are."

             
"Okay, I just wanted to make certain it wouldn't affect your
performance."

             
"Don't worry, Martin," she assured him.  "It won't.  After all,
this is the break I've been waiting for."  She sighed and looked up at
him.  "I promise to do my best to make it a good performance."

             
"That's all I can ask."  He looked at her doubtfully.  "With only
a week to go, I won't find anyone else to fill in for you.  And the
thought of Tina . . ."  He quivered.

             
"Martin, if you're that worried, let's stop talking and spend our
time going over my lines,"  she suggested, trying to push everything
else from her mind.

I

             
The following morning she was surprise by an unexpected
visit from her brother.  "I've come to take you to breakfast.  I'm not
too early am I?"  He laughed.  "You look like you had a late one last
night."