"Ohhh, what time is it?" Angie looked over at the clock on the bedstand showing it was four-thirty in the morning. She moaned, lying on her stomach as she felt Rollie rubbing her back. He kissed the nape of her neck and traced the well-formed division of her spine down to her buttocks with his finger.
 
 

"Sorry, love…you didn’t get much sleep last night, did you?" he asked, grinning as she closed her eyes and rolled over. His touch was like a feather and she smiled, pulling him down to her by wrapping her arms around his neck.
 
 

"No, you kept me extremely busy, Mr. Tyler," and she kissed his smiling mouth softly as he chuckled.
 
 

"Catching up on some needed devotion," he replied and kissed the hollow of her throat, looking down at her wondrous, soft body below him; "But- we need to pack and get to the airport…so, you will just have to stop all this lustful stuff now, Angela. A man can not be kept a slave forever to you, my dear."
 
 

"Yeah, right…" she said, scoffing and sat up, yawning.
 
 

"Hey, don’t forget to pack my Avenger III T-shirt….could make an impression, you know," he told her, hopping up and then disappeared downstairs to the lure of the coffee pot beeping off.
 
 

"Who’s the slave?" she commented, groaning as she sat up and wearily got out of bed and headed for the shower.

"Dingo Tyler! What are you doing in my bedroom?" Elena Serrano demanded, pulling the sheets around her, more indignant than frightened.
 
 

"It’s not what you think, love," he replied, and pulled up a chair, sitting next to the bed as she looked quickly to her bedstand for her revolver.
 
 

Dingo whistled slightly and quickly grabbed the gun, studying it carefully before removing the clip and placing it back in its holster; "precautions for my own safety…"
 
 

"No doubt!" she retorted smugly as she pulled her knees up in front of her chest, staring at him in the dawn’s light.
 
 

"I feel bad for you…my conscience, you know. I just can’t see a spitfire like you getting pushed into this league of the devil without some further explanation," Dingo went on, sighing as he leaned back in the chair.
 
 

Elena frowned and realized that his usual, outback Australian twang was missing…that his language was more refined, crisper and by the tone, he was not playing around. He had dropped the lyrical tone of greeting; his eyes were clear and directed into hers and the con-artist twinkle gone.
 
 

"More videos, Dingo?" Elena asked, her anger still revealed in her tone.
 
 

"No, they are usually effective for most but I sensed that coercion into assisting our little group needed the finer touches such as Mira Sanchez’s charming confessions and woes."
 
 

"She’s had a rough go, to say the least," Elena commented but then looked at him sharply; "but say, I don’t get you? I mean, sure- in for the money I would think, would be your main motive. But wait, it’s not money, is it? I watched you for two years and the one thing that I am starting to put together is that you have been centering on this guy, Lindquist and the cartel here…because….?"
 
 

"Lindquist is pivotal…he gives us the one man that Michael, that all of them in the splintered sections have wanted. Michael thought he knew who that man was and killed a high-ranking informant at Langley. He later found out that he wasn’t the top dog."
 
 

"This man I saw in the videos, this Eckmiller was a pretty hideous man. He experimented on the captives…those implants and what they did to men, it was all like the SS and then some…" Elena said, her mind reeling with the atrocities from the videos she had been forced to watched.
 
 

"Yes, with his network and his training camps in flourish since the OSS days, some very horrible things happened. I’m afraid my indoctrination into the CIA or what I thought was CIA was a bit graphic as well. You see, I’ve been inside this organization since 1960. Not exactly what I call, joined up. I’ve been doing their bidding for some time…my natural skills."
 
 

"How old were you?" Elena was startled.
 
 

"Seventeen…I had been doing the con in Sydney for over five years alone. My father raised me in the family business. When he died in Sydney, I just continued the trade. I was picked up by an agent, was ‘debriefed’ as you saw in the videos and started into a supposed directed life by them. Trouble was, I just led them to believe I was debriefed…you see- I, for some reason, was never brainwashed. I conned them, in a way- survival."
 
 

"Like Rollie, he was a failure at the debriefing as well, right?"
 
 

"Getting ahead of me, Serrano…let me tell you that once I was let out to do their bidding, I hightailed it to Docker Bay in the outback, met Rollie’s mum and stayed relatively dormant. I did jobs, mostly involving my grifting skills and kept a network of powerful contacts. I thought I was impervious to their control. I liked the money, don’t get me wrong…but when their way went to wet works, I wanted out. It was then that I noticed a definite pull to the right of the organization. Something was wrong….like there had been a dethroning of the top man…splinter groups developed and I was threatened. I resisted the splinter group’s commands and well, they did find a way to influence me after all. Rollie was a young lad when they killed his mother…and with the threat to kill Rollie over my head after that, well- I did what I had to do. I left him in the care of the only man I could trust- Mangela. Rollie has probably told you about him."
 
 

Elena nodded, intrigued with this man that was baring his soul to her; "I thought Rollie’s mother died alone…in the outback due to some sickness?"
 
 

"They gave her a virus, yeah…made it look good for forensics…poor lad though, he came upon her dead for over a week. I had been hiding out from them but this, it forced me out. My life was theirs after that. I did as I was told. I’m not proud of it, mind you- but my son was my top priority. He hated me though…I knew it. Always gone and well, pretending to be this carefree, con-artist with no feelings…even took him here to the States and taught him the game for a cover I was under. I was glad he pulled out and decided that he wanted a life of his own. Once he met up with Manny Ramirez, he was hooked on that F/X stuff. I had impressed my superiors enough that they left him alone. I played the clown for my son to keep him alive."
 
 

Elena was silent. So much information was hitting her brain at the same time and she had so many questions for him but she stopped at the one he knew she would ask; "Why haven’t you told Rollie?"
 
 

"I was always going to…then, over a year ago, almost two now…I said no to my section leader over a mission that would involve my son."
 
 

Elena’s eyes shot up to met Dingo’s. The sun was over the horizon now and she could see the harsh lines around his eyes, weathered by the sun and the stress of those many years marking his face.
 
 

"That was the Loubar incident. We were suppose to court Loubar into the fold…I was the fool. Loubar had a grudge against my son after you and he took his arms deal away, remember? Well, the Chinese trade delegate was a directed hit by the section, with Loubar hired for the hit. Once he did that, we were to take him in and close ranks…he was to be absorbed. My job was to keep him happy and supply his weapons and gadgets as needed. When I found out he had drugged my son and then, well- what he did to Angela…I couldn’t deal with it. His agenda was strictly the hit and then, to find out, that he was using Rollie as his escape out of the country! I had to do something!"
 
 

"What did you do?" Elena asked, on edge. She had slipped to the edge of her bed and was sitting, facing him.
 
 

"I killed Victor Loubar…."
 
 

"What?"
 
 

"I thought, well- I heard that he fell trying to kill Angie in Spain?"
 
 

"Actually, he was shot in the head with a silencer rifle from fifty feet away. He took Angela over the cliff with him but thank God, she grabbed on to something and he went on down the cliff. The fall, the damage to his head was so severe, the entrance and exit wounds were not to be found."
 
 

"You? You shot him?"
 
 

"I did, and there was a witness… my own backup man- who reported my assassination of Loubar. It wasn’t too much longer then, that Rollie was picked up helping Michael Lopez on Pollepel after I disappeared. Michael had been put on my tail when Angie and Rollie were married. It was Michael who brought me over to his side of things. He helped me disappear for a time after the wedding…he was good at that. But I was contacted again when Rollie was taken…Michael got word to me that they had tried to debrief him. It was killing me to stand back and wait…my son- they were using him to flush me out. When I heard that Michael had been killed, I did resurface. I came to the States, was going to see Rollie but was stopped in customs by none other than, Michael Lopez with a new face. He brought me into his new inner circle. I learned many things and I learned the most important thing of all- I learned that the man who had run this splinter operation for so many years was going to be brought down with my help."
 
 

"Lindquist?" Serrano asked, shaking her head.
 
 

"Strange, isn’t it? That he should be flushed out and be doing this drug cartel stuff? I mean, he’s been aiming for Michael Lopez just like Michael has been aiming for him. Michael was tipped by him to kill that man at Langley. Sadly, Michael realized too late who the real section leader was and it has taken an elaborate two years of playing the stupid con-artist with a taste of profit to get Lindquist to feel comfortable with us. He thinks I am just playing for Michael and he thinks Michael doesn’t know that he’s the top dog."
 
 

Elena bit her lip suddenly and sighed; "I don’t get it, why doesn’t Michael just take him out. He’s in his hands, right now."
 
 

"Michael wants more than a simple kill, don’t you get it? He’s been gathering files since Pollepel. He’s got enough evidence now on Lindquist with your files added from Marchard to turn this son of a bitch in to Langley."
 
 

"Why the files from Marchard?"
 
 

"Lindquist ran Marchard in the sixties…he and Eckmiller from Germany, orchestrated the Pollepel experiments."
 
 

"But, the man in charge of Marchard in the sixties was named…"
 
 

"John Settle…"
 
 

"Same man- supposedly died of a heart attack in 1969…"
 
 

Elena was rubbing her eyes and shaking her head; "So the FBI was infiltrated as well as the CIA, for all of these years?"
 
 

"Yes…"
 
 

"I need to get those files for Michael…"
 
 

"Yes…"
 
 

"We don’t have much time….Lindquist, thinking Michael is ready to turn him over to his superiors is sitting pretty. He thinks that he can collect the entire splinter organization now and secure the section that was blown apart two years ago. He’ll be making his move once Michael pretends to take him to the new location for the splinter ops."
 
 

"And Michael, he needs the files today to blow Lindquist out of the water to Langley…but won’t he be arrested as well? After all, he was part of it until two years ago…"
 
 

"We’ve got a plan there….don’t worry. I have to think about my own hide, Serrano and my boy’s."
 
 

"Rollie…" Elena murmured and looked at Dingo suddenly, her head turned to the side as tears welled in her eyes.
 
 

"Best to leave him out of this all now. It’s too late now to tell him that his da is more than he thinks he is…"
 
 

"But, why?"
 
 

"Best this way, maybe one day…"
 
 

"Can I ask you something?"
 
 

"Yeah, sure…" and she realized that his accent had slipped back into that ‘Dingo Tyler’ twang. She smiled genuinely at him, then looked down into her lap.
 
 

"What’s your Christian name, really?"
 
 

Dingo smiled and sighed; "It’s a bit stuffy."
 
 

"So what? I want to know the man behind the con."
 
 

Dingo’s eyes brightened and the familiar twinkle was back in his eyes as he stared at the beguiling Serrano;
 
 

It’s Reginald Harcourt Tyler."
 
 

"Ah, quite a name."
 
 

"Yeah, don’t wear it out though…Dingo is fine."
 
 

"Actually, I like Reggie…"
 
 

Dingo looked at her strangely and she frowned; "What, are you offended, I’m sorry…"
 
 

"No…no, not at all…it’s just that it’s been since Rollie’s mum died, that anyone called me Reggie." His cheeks had reddened and she realized that she had struck an emotion in the man that few would ever see.

Rollie sat in his seat, looking out the window from the airplane as it taxied out to the runway. He was thinking of Dingo. The last words he had said to him were ones of anger: "as far as I’m concerned, old man, you’re dead to me!" It was playing over and over again in his mind now.
 
 

Angie put her hand into her husband’s. He had been so quiet in the terminal and now, since getting on the plane, she could see he was preoccupied.
 
 

"What?" she asked him, gripping her hold on him tighter.
 
 

"Nothing…well- I was thinking about Dingo and what I said to him…" Rollie answered, looking at her and seeing her confused face. He had not told her about what he had said to his father the last time he had seen him on the van.
 
 

"What did you say, Rollie?"
 
 

"um, something pretty bad, Angie…I told him he was dead to me…" Rollie replied, putting his head back and closing his eyes.
 
 

"Rollie!" was Angie’s whispered exclamation as she now realized what had been plaguing him since they brought Aidan home from the hospital.
 
 

"I know…I was just so upset! He conned me, Angie. Why the hell didn’t he just tell me from the beginning?"
 
 

"I don’t know, maybe there’s more to it, Rol. You sure you want to leave it like this? I mean, don’t you at least, want to call him and well…"
 
 

"I’m not apologizing, Ange. He put us all at risk!"
 
 

"Maybe there is something bigger going on here than just us?"
 
 

"He should have told me."
 
 

"Maybe he couldn’t at the time…listen Rollie…are you running away to L.A. right now, so that you don’t face him?"
 
 

"Maybe…No!…I don’t know…" Rollie said, shaking his head from side to side.
 
 

The plane suddenly stopped as the engines shut off and the air in the cabin stopped blowing. Rollie frowned, looking at his watch. There had been a delay in the plane getting into a taxi position and now! It was seven-thirty and the wait had started all over.
 
 

"Bloody planes! I hate them!" Rollie said with conviction as Angie grinned and looked out the window.
 
 

"Hey! There’s some sort of commotion going on out there by the airport, Rollie. Look at that!"
 
 

Rollie looked out the window seeing sirens and people scurrying around. A white van was pushing through the gate and heading for the tarmac. It raced past their plane and headed for a landing plane that had caused the stoppage of all air traffic. Rollie watched from the other window to their left as a small party left the van, pulling someone out of the back. He looked to be handcuffed. His dark raincoat was a contrast to his pure white abundant hair as he was moved toward the awaiting plane marked with government insignia.
 
 

"Hey, that looks like that guy from the back, that Lindquist guy!" Angie said, having gotten up from her seat with her nose pressed against the glass of the window.
 
 

"It does!" Rollie remarked, his hand on her back as he frowned and scratched his head in puzzlement.
 
 

"Wow, there are enough spooks around him to fill the CIA!" Angie exclaimed, seeing the sea of London Fogs and sunglasses.
 
 

"Aha…" Rollie commented and turned around to his own seat window. A black helicopter had landed just south of their plane. Two people emerged from the plane. Rollie could see that one was shaking the other’s hand, the wind whipping at their heads. He couldn’t make them from the distance.
 
 

Airport crews were racing toward the plane with a rolling platform stairs. One man from the helicopter went forward, toward the stairs as the other man held back. Angie came back to her seat and raised her eyebrows as they heard the door to the airplane open, a stewardess who had hastily been given instructions, holding her hair in place as the wind from the outside of the plane rushed in. She smiled at the late arriving passenger and Rollie strained in his seat. Something strange was going on and as he looked out the window again, the man that had held back with the helicopter had moved toward the plane slightly. He held his hand over his eyes as the sun beat down in his face causing the glare. Finally, he removed that hand and smiled. A small, off- handed salute was performed as he looked up straight into the window where Rollie peered outward.
 
 

"Michael?" Rollie murmured, under his breath, blinking his eyes in amazement.
 
 

Angie gripped Rollie’s arm then, pulling his attention from his window.
 
 

"Your seat is A-4, Mr. Tyler…" they heard the stewardess tell the late arrival.
 
 

"Thank you, miss," replied the unmistakable voice of Dingo Tyler as he peered around the edge of the cabin wall.
 
 

Rollie looked at his father…and Dingo looked at his son. There was no denying that the two of them loved each other, even if it was never spoken.
 
 

"Well, what have we have here? Imagine meeting like this- what a coincidence!" Angie remarked, smiling.
 
 

"I hear the weather is just wonderful in California…" Dingo said with a smile as he sat down in the seat in front of them, taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes, waiting for Rollie’s explosive response but it was not to come. No, he trained the boy right…no public displays…after all- life as a flimflam man was something that his son may not have admired but he surely wouldn’t sell him out. No, Rollie was a Tyler first…he told himself as he grinned and relaxed back in his seat.

  FINE