Friend or Foe :

Part 1:

Rollie Tyler woke up groggy. He slipped on his robe and slippers and headed down the stairs of his loft. It had been two weeks since Francis and Loubar had disappeared. Mira and the NYPD had combed the docks, the water, and the surrounding community. Two weeks since he had tried in vain to console Sarah in the most likely loss of her husband. It had been two weeks since he and Angie had seriously spoken about any of the events in the past month. It had been two weeks since Rollie Tyler had gotten any sleep.

Rollie trudged his way to the refrigerator, and peaked inside. The only things that stared back were the lightbulb and frozen fish sticks. He made a face and searched the cupboards. He found a few pieces of stale bread left in a loaf, and popped them in the toaster. Rollie turned to his coffee machine, which he had left on by accident, with the now almost solid drink inside. He made another face.

"I guess I have been a bit sidetracked, eh Blue?" Rollie quipped to the robot.

Blue barked and whined, his voice recognition software automatically replying to his name being spoken. Rollie walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. A strange face stared back. His hair was mottled, even longer than usual, and stuck out in all directions, as if trying to achieve some life of it's own. His eyes had large bags under them and he had five day old stubble around his face. He turned on the faucet, and began splashing his face with cold water. Suddenly the phone rang. And as with every time the phone had rung in the past two weeks, Rollie wondered if it would be word of Francis. Word of his being found dead. Or perhaps Loubar, taunting him further.

Rollie's dreams had been haunted by images of Loubar. Images of the fire, images of Angie and Loubar, images of everything that had happened. He could not get rid of them. They were standing in the way of his sleep, and standing in the way of his talking with Angie.

Rollie made his way to the phone and picked it up.

"Tyler F/X," he said, wearily.

"Wake up Tyler," said the voice of Mira Sanchez, though not with her usual tenacity.

"What's up Mira," Rollie asked.

"Just wanted to let you know that the last of the officers have been released from the hospital," she said, "you know, the ones who got shot chasing you? They're all fine."

"That's great, Mira," Rollie said.

There was another trouble for Rollie. Ever since his face had been spread city wide as a murderer, he'd been getting some strange looks from people. Even after he was cleared by Angie and Mira, people still looked at him suspiciously, as if they didn't quite trust him. He hadn't gotten a call at all for any work.

"That's great Mira," Rollie said, "have you gotten any information out of Sonya?"

Sonya Williams, an accomplice of Loubar's, had been captured by Rollie.

Well, knocked unconscious, Rollie admitted to himself.

"Nothing yet," Mira said, "she still doesn't believe Loubar was going to kill her. I've tried to talk sense into her so much my mouth hurts, but it's like talking to a brick wall."

Rollie sighed.

"Well, what about the information Angie got off Loubar's computer?" Rollie said.

A while ago, when this all started, Angie had nearly gotten blown up in Loubar's booby trapped house getting the information. It was then that Rollie had found out about what Loubar had done to her.....

"Everything seems to be in code," Mira said, "our boys and Angie are still working on it. They'll figure it out. We think it contains a list of everyone he's dealt with, every hide out, every associate, every job. All of it. Once we get this Loubar's done for, that is if he's still alive."

"I want to believe he's dead, Mira," Rollie said, "but something in the back of mind says he's not. That same feeling says Francis isn't dead either."

Mira sighed.

"We've searched everywhere for Gatti," Mira said, "if he was alive don't you think he would have contacted us by now?"

"Not if he was hurt," Rollie said, "not if Loubar still has him."

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there," Mira said, "I've got to run."

"All right," Rollie said, "thanks."

Rollie hung up the phone, not feeling any better. He wouldn't feel better until he knew for sure Loubar was locked away in a nice tiny cell, or a nice tiny coffin. Rollie sat down on his couch and flipped on the T.V. The morning news was on.

"-and everyone is feverishly getting ready for the President's visit to New York," the anchorwoman was saying, "Central Park is expecting a huge crowd for his speech, and the police are expecting huge security."

No wonder Mira hasn't been around much, Rollie thought, she's running around trying to protect the President.

The President was coming into town in plugging his new "anti-organized crime" campaign, or "Operation Untouchable," as it had been nicknamed. Rollie shook his head. A brave man. Not everyone would internationally threaten the Mafia.

"This country will not stand by," he had said during an address Rollie remembered, "and let the denizons, crooks, thieves, petty crooks, and low lifes overrun our cities. We will not stand by and let crooks who happen to have good planning ability go around the law, and around justice!"

It had been a stirring speech. But that was when Rollie had cared about all of those sorts of things. Well, he still did, but right now he wasn't too focused. Rollie looked around the loft. He had nothing to do. He yawned.

"Well, Blue," he said, "I'm still tired, I think I'll get some more shut eye."

Rollie walked back up the stairs to his bed.

* * *

The man got up from his computer. He had been talking via a secure channel to someone. The man turned to the other man sitting on the bed behind him.

"Well, James, my brother," the man said, "looks like we've got some work to do."

"Work?" James said, "what do you mean Victor?"

Victor smiled.

"A friend of mine called," Victor said, "he has something for us to do. Something exciting."

James shook his head.

"I still don't understand," James said, of course he hadn't been understanding a lot of things since his amnesia.

It was fortunate his brother, Victor, was there to explain everything to him. He had explained how a ruthless enemy of theirs, a man named Tyler, had nearly killed them both. He explained how they were out to both stop Tyler from the terrible things he did, and to help cleanse the world of corruption. How they would do so by any means necessary.

"You will," Victor said, "remember that speech the President made? The one about organized crime?"

James nodded.

"Well," Victor said walking to the bureau, "he's a hypocrite."

"How?" James asked.

Victor slid open the drawer, pulling out a gun.

"He's in league with the Mafia," Victor said, "he's taking money from them to look the other way."

"Are you serious?" James asked, "who was that on the phone?"

"A man who wants to stop the President," Victor said, "and knows we're the only ones that can do it."

Victor took a clip out out of the drawer, and handed both to James.

"Wait," James said, "you don't mean-"

"It's our job to protect the country, James," Victor said, "we have to because no one else will."

"Victor," James said, "last night I had a dream. There was, there was a woman. I couldn't see her face, but I could almost hear her name. It was like, she was in a fog, and I could almost reach her but couldn't. I kept hearing, Susan, or Sarah, or something."

Victor locked his eyes on him for a brief moment, then hung his head.

"Sarah," Victor said, "was your wife."

"Was?" James asked.

"Tyler killed her," Victor said, "revenge for stopping one of his schemes."

James hung his head now.

"No," he said softly.

Victor leaned down and placed his hand on James' shoulder.

"It will be all right," Victor said, "I know it hurts. You hurt for a long time. But right now I need you focused. We'll deal with Tyler after this job. I promise. We'll stop Tyler, together."

James met his eyes, and nodded.

"Now," Victor said, "let's go do some target practice."

James looked down at the gun.

"I know how to use this?" James asked.

"Yes," Victor said, "quite well. Try it."

James picked up the gun and clip. Somehow it felt right in his hands. He had a vision, a vision of shooting, shooting at a target, somewhere. He had muffles over his ears. There were others shooting around him. But he couldn't pull the rest of the image. James slipped the clip into the gun with a click.

"We'll stop the President and then Tyler," Victor said, "by whatever means necessary."

* * *

Part 2:

It was two days later, and Rollie Tyler was still trudging along at a snails pace. He had just come back from a much needed trip to the grocery store when a banging filled the loft. It was the front door, behind it a livid Mira Sanchez.

"All right Tyler," Mira said, "you tell me what is wrong with you, and you tell me now."

Mira pushed past Tyler and into the loft.

"Look at this place!" she said, gesturing around.

Rollie looked around. Furniture was covered with clothing, waste paper and candy wrappers were strewn across the floor. Blue was hopelessly trapped beneath two old socks and a shirt. Rollie walked over to Blue, and pulled the clothes off of him.

"I haven't had time to do any housekeeping, ok?" Rollie said, tossing the clothes onto the couch.

"Time?" Mira said, "You don't seem to have had time to do anything! Except for the fact that the exact opposite is true. You've had far too much time on your hands, and you're not using any of it. When was the last time you talked to Angie?"

Rollie shrugged.

"She needs you, Tyler," Mira said, "you have to talk with her. She won't come to you."

Rollie sighed.

"I can't," Rollie said.

"Why not?" Mira asked, getting more hyper.

"Because I can't!" Rollie yelled, "I just can't! There's too much that passes through both of our minds when we look at eachother! I won't put her or I through that!"

"Is that worse than what you're putting yourself and Angie through now?" Mira asked, gesturing around the loft again.

Mira pointed to a few beer bottles poised precariously on the computer desk.

"Or have you been having a rather good time by yourself?" she asked.

Rollie snorted, and turned away from her.

"Did you come here to insult me, Mira?" he asked.

"No, Tyler," Mira said, "I came here as your friend, and as Angie's friend, to stop you from letting Loubar destroy a good thing. Whether you're friends, or more than that, Angie is one of the best things in your life. Do you really want to lose her?"

Rollie closed his eyes. He was shaking from the emotions he had been keeping inside for so long.

"No," he said, "of course not. But neither one of us can talk, can't explore our feelings until we know if Loubar is alive or dead."

Mira shook her head.

"Angie said the same thing," Mira said, "you're really letting him control your life, aren't you?"

Rollie spun on his heel again, to glare at her angrily.

"He has controlled my life!" Rollie yelled, "He took it! He twisted it! Then he tossed it aside to die!"

Rollie swept his arm across the desk, the beer bottles flying across the room and hitting the wall.

"And it has," Rollie said weakly.

Mira walked up to him, speaking softer this time.

"No, Rollie," Mira said, "after thinking we were all dead. After nearly losing everything you had, and then getting it back, your life should be more 'alive' than ever. You should appreciate what you have more now than ever, and you should be fighting all the harder to keep it."

Rollie didn't answer. Mira turned and walked toward the door. Rollie turned slightly.

"Mira," he said.

She turned back.

"Thanks," Rollie mumbled.

Mira tilted her head.

"What are friends for?" she asked, and left.

Rollie's fists were clenched. Mira was right. He should be fighting now more than ever. Should be fighting for his life. Not letting Loubar's attempts to destroy it succeed. Rollie headed to the bathroom. First things first, he needed to clean up. Then he would go to Angie, they would talk, work things out, crack the code to Loubar's information, track him down if he was still alive. All would be will. It had to be. Rollie would make sure of it.

* * *

James looked in the mirror. A face stared back that he didn't recognize. He wished with all his might that he could remember. Remember himself. Remember his wife. Remember everything. He had tried countless times to regain his memories, but nothing was coming. It was like staring into a small, pitch black room hoping to find a lost bobby pin. So close but yet so far. Now, now he had even more to worry about. The assassination of the President of the United States was not something to be taken lightly. Strange how he still remembered those sorts of things. The doctors and Victor said that the amnesia was a combination of the head trauma, and extreme stress. The body had selectively removed, or at least put in good hiding, those memories that were so traumatic.

He had flashes. Flashes of people, places, but all too distorted to place. It was like his whole life was twisted around in a maze of fun house mirrors. Nothing quite right. Didn't know what to believe was true.

James, at least that's what his brother called him, stepped out of the bathroom. He walked out and toward his brothers' study. He looked inside. There were dozens of pieces of computer equipment, and other things James didn't recognize. He had so many questions, and Victor seemed to be too busy to answer them, most times. The only thing he would talk about was this job. Whoever had called Victor had spurred him on. James walked toward the computer. Maybe he could find out who that was.

"James!" Victor called from downstairs, he had been out getting pizza.

James walked downstairs.

"I'm here Victor," he replied wearily, "what's going on?"

"We have to hurry," Victor said, "there is much work to be done. While I was out I met my friend. He has supplied me with the security layout during the President's speech. I believe I've deduced the best way to do the job. But I can't do it without your help."

James nodded.

"What are we going to do?" James asked.

"I'll explain later," Victor said, "right now we've got to get you set."

"What do you mean?" James asked.

Victor put his hand on James' shoulder.

"You don't remember anything," Victor said, "if you did you'd understand, truly believe in our cause. Because you don't killing someone will be very difficult. I need for you to be ready to do so."

"How will you do that?" James asked, a shiver going down his spine.

"Tyler's in town," Victor said, "I know we said we'd take care of him afterward, but I do know his accomplices. You can take care of one of them."

"Why not turn them in to the police?" James asked.

Victor shook his head.

"No," Victor said, "won't work. There is no evidence. But I do know that they are supplying Tyler with secret security information from my personal files, which they stole a while ago. We have to stop them from breaking my codes. In fact some of the police are involved. This city is very corrupt. We must clean it."

James closed his eyes again. But he believed his brother, he had to, after all he had done for him.

"Ok," James said, "who are they?"

"A few people," Victor said, "we're going to take care of the whole lot at once. I know where they're hiding out. And I've got just the weapon to take care of them."

Victor put the pizza on the table.

"I love grenade launchers," Victor said with a smile.

James raised his eyebrows.

"Come on," Victor said, "let's eat."

* * *

Part 3:

"She's a nervous wreck, Rollie," Mira said from the door of Mira's apartment, Angie had been staying with her since her apartment was blown up.

"I know," Rollie said, "I would be too if-"

"Don't even mention it," Mira said, "beyond that the kidnapping, the near death, the bombing, Francis being gone, it's been too much for any one person to take. I'm shocked you were as well as I found you."

Rollie smirked.

"I know all that Mira," Rollie said, "but I guess I've been too wrapped up in myself to worry about Ang. I mean I have worried about her, but not in the way I should. More worried about losing her, I guess, and more worried about seeing her at the same time, somehow."

Mira shook her head.

"You two are more alike than you realize," Mira said, "right now she's working on the disk. I've got a couple of officers stationed outside, just in case. But she says it would be faster with the systems in the loft. But-"

"But," Rollie finished, "she's afraid to talk to me."

Mira nodded. Then stepped aside. Rollie hesitated for a moment, then walked inside. He turned a corner, and stopped. Angie had her back to him, working feverishly on the computer. From the amount of coffee cups scattered about the room, it looked as if she had been working on it for quite a while.

"Ang," Rollie said softly.

Angie jumped and spun around. Her eyes locked immediately with Rollie's then a split second later they dropped to the ground.

"Rol," she said, "hi."

"Hi," Rollie said back.

"I've been running this thing through dozens of different decoding algorithms," Angie said before Rollie could say anything further, "I've been close, I think, but I just can't quite figure this out. This thing looks like it's been coded, then recoded on top of itself a bunch of times. Some sort of redundancy set up. Once I figure out the key for one, the answer is encoded underneath. You can imagine how tough it is to figure out whether I'm right or not."

"Angie," Rollie said walking up to her, "you-you could do this faster on the systems in the loft, you know, why don't you?"

Angie stiffened.

"You could work, and," Rollie started, "and we could talk."

Angie stared straight ahead at the screen, and closed her eyes for a moment. She turned around, to look at Mira standing a ways behind them. Mira smiled.

"Go on," Mira said, "I'll have another officer outside the loft, if you like."

Angie nodded. Then turned to Rollie.

"Let me grab a few things," she said, and rushed around the room.

Rollie's shoulders, which had been tense, relaxed a fraction. A few moments later they were in the van. They rode in silence for about a block.

"Listen," they both said at the same time.

They turned, looked at eachother, then chuckled softly.

"This is crazy, Ang," Rollie said, "with all that's going on we need to talk to eachother, help eachother now more than ever."

"You sound like Mira," Angie said.

Rollie smiled.

"Well," he said, "she did come and talk to me."

Angie sighed.

"Talk to me, Ang," Rollie said.

"Ok, Rol, I'll be totally honest," she said after a moments hesitation, "I had a crush on you for a long time. From when I was just a girl. I thought it was just that, though, and never said anything. I also thought you'd laugh at me if I said anything. Then for a long time I didn't really think about it. I kind of pushed it aside, especially when you started dating Dani and stuff. Anyway, I thought I was over it, but then when Loubar-"

Angie broke off for a moment.

"I didn't know what to think," Angie said, "I was carried away by the moment. Carried away by old daydreams from when I was a girl. I don't know how I feel about you Rol, but I know you're the best friend I've ever had."

Rollie smiled.

"I'll be totally honest with you then," Rollie said, as the pulled up next to the loft, "I at first thought you were a bit like an annoying little sister."

Angie smiled.

"I did kind of cling around you, didn't I?" she said.

"Yeah," Rollie said, "drove me nuts. Then I thought of you as just my little sister. Someone to protect. Then you became my partner. I don't know how I feel about you either, Ang, but I know you're the best friend I've ever had as well."

They had walked into the loft while talking and were standing inside the door.

"So what's the problem, then?" Angie asked.

"I don't know," Rollie said chuckling, "the problem is letting someone else confuse us. Letting someone else make us think things that aren't true, that aren't real."

Angie nodded.

"Then we're all right?" Angie asked, "everything can go back to normal?"

"Things can never go back to normal, Ang," Rollie said, "but yeah, we're all right."

Angie grabbed Rollie around the waist and pulled him close in a big hug. Rollie returned it all too gladly. He put his hand on her head.

"Yeah," he repeated, "we're all right."

* * *

"Is he dead?" James asked, looking at the policeman lying at his feet.

"No," Victor said, "we don't have to kill him. He never saw us."

They were standing outside a building, having just knocked a policeofficer unconscious. Victor said this was where Tyler was hiding out. Where he did all his planning, and where the disk was.

"I thought they were working on it over at that detective's apartment," James said.

"They were," Victor said, "but thanks to a bug I planted in her apartment I found out they moved here. Now we can kill two birds with one stone. We can get rid of the disk, and take care of Tyler and his accomplice."

"Are you sure about this?" James asked, "This is going to attract a lot of attention."

"We'll be gone before anyone realizes what's happening," Victor said, "trust me I've, we've done this before."

They had parked just around the corner and were now standing directly across from the building, behind the police officer's car. Victor picked up the long, black metallic cylinder they had brought. He handed it to James.

"Remember how I showed you?" Victor said, smiling, "of course you do. You're a natural."

James lugged the thing onto his shoulder and leveled it over the roof of the car.

"Once you fire," Victor said, "we break for the car, and get out of here. Then we can worry about taking care of the President."

As Victor said this behind James' back he fingered the gun inside his jacket pocket.

"Now, come on," Victor said, "before someone comes up the street."

James took careful aim and took a deep breath. The grenade would launch right through a window and into the middle of the building. This felt strange, but then anything everything had felt strange since James had woken up without a single memory of his past.

"Come on, James," Victor was saying, "just do it."

James felt Victor's hand on his shoulder for a moment. He drew strength from his brother's conviction. He could do this. He knew he could.

"Think about Sarah, James," Victor said, "think about your wife. If only you could have known her, but Tyler took that from you."

James eyes narrowed. A rush of adrenaline hit him. That was all he needed. Yes, he would make Tyler pay. In a moment of pure clarity, James put his finger to the trigger, and pulled.

* * *

Part 4:

The grenade flew through the window, creating a tinkle of glass. Rollie and Angie both looked up, and heard a soft thud as it hit the ground.

"What the-?" was all Rollie had time to say.

The explosion brought back memories. Recent memories. The fireball hit blowing electronic components and pieces of various masks everywhere. Fortunately the door was still open as Rollie and Angie stood in the doorway and immediately they dived back out, Rollie covering Angie as they fell to the ground. The fireball, though not as big as the one they had gone through in the building on the docks, was still just as deadly. Smoke came pouring through the door. The grenade had hit on the far side of the loft, away from the door. As Rollie carefully picked himself and Angie up and peered through the door he saw a mottled mass of what used to be his loft strewn all over the place. Rollie swore, and broke out into a run for the front of the loft.

"Rollie wait!" Angie yelled, "Whoever did that-!"

But her warning wasn't heard as Rollie sprinted to the front. He saw the police car across the street, and ran across to it. On the other side of the car he found the policeman, unconscious. He looked around frantically, and ran around the corner of the street. A car was just pulling out of an alleyway and veering away. Rollie's eyes narrowed. Then his heart skipped a beat, and his mouth dropped in shock. He couldn't see the driver, but he could see the passenger. It couldn't be though.

Then the face turned directly at Rollie and he locked eyes for a split second with him. Francis Gatti stared back at Rollie, looking equally shocked.

"F-Francis?" Rollie blurted out.

But the car had already turned and was speeding away. The license plate was conveniently covered with mud, and unreadable. It's tires threw mud and slush as it vanished around another corner. Rollie heard footsteps behind him.

"Rollie!" Angie yelled, running up to him, then stopped as she saw his face.

"Rollie?" Angie said, as the sound of firetrucks started to get louder, "I called the fire department. You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Rollie turned to her slowly.

"I did."

* * *

"He saw me!" James yelled as he and Victor sped down the street, "We looked right at eachother!"

"That's not good, James," Victor said, "No one knows what our faces look like. Now we've got an even more important reason to take care of Tyler."

"So that was Tyler?" James asked, "So he escaped somehow!"

"Tyler is good at that," Victor said, "I should have just shot him a long time ago. Me and my melodramatic heart."

James shook his head.

"Now what?" James asked.

"We'll have to act quickly," Victor said, "but we don't have much time. The President will be in town tomorrow. Tyler will no doubt give your description to every cop in New York."

James began to sweat slightly.

"So what do I do?" he pleaded.

"Calm down," Loubar said, "I'll protect you. I'm your brother."

"But how can I go out and not be recognized by police?" he asked.

Victor turned and smiled a strange smile at him.

"You really have forgotten everything," Victor said, "don't worry. No one will recognize you, not even me."

"What?" James asked.

"Let's just say," Victor said, "that while Tyler's good at escaping. I'm good at blending in. Just call me the chameleon."

"Whatever you say," James said.

"That's right," Victor said, "whatever I say."

* * *

"I don't believe this," Mira said looking around.

The lower section of the loft was in ruins. Holes in the wall, burned furniture and equipment, several half destroyed masks and costumes were strewn across the floor.

"Neither do I," Rollie said, "I seem to be very popular with the bomb blast crowd these days."

Rollie walked up to Angie, who was leaning over the dessimated computer system.

"Well?" Rollie asked.

Angie shook her head.

"This plane will never fly again," she said, "but at least I didn't have the disk in it when it blew."

She held up the zip disk, which had been in her pocket.

"So," Mira said, walking up to them, "you're sure it was Gatti?"

"Yeah," Rollie said, "I'm sure."

"What does it mean, Mira?" Angie asked.

"I don't know," Mira said, "but I know one thing. It doesn't mean anything good. This was obviously Loubar's work."

"Or someone out for revenge for the death of Loubar," Rollie said, then shook his head, "no, I doubt Loubar had any close friends. Yeah, he's still alive."

Angie hugged her arms around herself.

"I don't believe it," she said softly.

Rollie walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"We won't make the same mistakes again," Rollie said, "this time we'll get him. He's taking a lot more chances now, that'll be his downfall."

"We also won't let him get near you," Mira said, "I'm going to place you both under police protection in a safehouse."

Rollie looked at Angie, their eyes met and Angie's eyes hardened.

"No, Mira," Rollie said, "we've got to get him. We're the only ones who can."

"Don't start feeding me that, Tyler," Mira said, "I'm not going to go and let you get killed. Do you know what Captain van Duran is going to do when he gets wind of this? He was already shot as a result of this. You'll be fortunate if he doesn't want to protect you by putting you in a cell and throwing away the key!"

"You can talk him down, Mira," Rollie said, "you always do."

"Maybe," Mira said, "if I wanted to. Which I don't. You two have been through enough already, I've been through enough already! Remember, I got kidnapped too? I want Loubar as bad as you do, but you've got to start doing this the way the police want."

"I would tend to agree," a voice said from behind them.

They all turned to face Elena .

"And just who are you?" Mira asked.

"Elena Serrano," she said, holding up her identification, "are you two all right?"

Rollie nodded.

"I wondered when you'd be showing up again," Rollie said.

"You worried me enough almost getting killed at the docks," she said, "now you try and get blown up at home. What is with you?"

"I don't know," Rollie said, "I think I got on someone's nerves that I shouldn't have."

"Loubar's to be exact," Elena said, "he's reaching his breaking point Tyler. You've beaten him and escaped death too many times. He's finally starting to get bolder, and more brunt."

"Good news for me," Tyler said.

"I've been chasing down Loubar for a long time," Elena explained to Mira, "and somehow Rollie always ends up in the middle."

"Tell me about it," Rollie said, "maybe I shouldn't have messed with any of this in the first place. I should have just found a nice girl, settled down and got married."

Rollie was looking down and didn't notice the slight uncomfortableness and glances shared between all three women. Rollie would probably never notice.

"Well, you're in it now," Elena said, "and there's no backing out."

"So how does Detective Gatti fit into all of this?" Mira asked.

Elena shook her head.

"As long as I've been tailing Loubar," she said, "he's always worked alone. I mean he may have help, but truly the escape plan is always for him alone. I can't imagine why he would have Gatti with him, why he would have kept him alive."

"Francis wasn't a prisoner," Rollie said, "he was with Loubar. At least I think it was Loubar driving."

"Well that takes it into another realm," Elena said.

"Francis wouldn't work with Loubar," Rollie said forcefully, "he's not a turncoat. Loubar's done something to him. Done something to his mind maybe, who knows. It's just another way to torture me."

"He seems to like doing that," Mira said, "he's made you think Angie, Francis, Sarah, and myself were all dead. Just to get at you. How sick can you get?"

"When it comes to sick," Angie said, "you don't get any sicker then Victor Loubar."

There was a moment of silence.

"Well, now what?" Rollie asked.

Mira sighed, and glanced at Elena who raised her eyebrows.

"Well," Mira said, "with the President coming into town this is the last thing we need. I hope he's staying in town just to get at you, Rollie. No offense."

"I've thought of that," Elena said, "the President's threatening every mob boss in the country. He's treading on dangerous waters."

"So," Rollie said, "if Loubar's after the President as well, and he's somehow gotten Francis to join him-"

"If he's gotten to Francis enough to not care about bombing you," Mira said, "he won't blink an eye at bombing the President."

"And if tries to do that," Elena said, "no one will have any choice. Not if it's your typical Loubar plot, devious and too smart."

"Have any choice to do what?" Rollie said, his voice hard.

Elena shook her head.

"We'd better find him, and find him fast," Elena said, "or they'll have to kill him."

* * *

Part 5:

"Here is the layout," Victor said laying a large blueprint out across the table.

The layout was simple. A large stage was set up in the middle of Central Park. The audience would not be to the back of the President but around the front and sides. Security men would be posted around the perimeter of the stage, and no doubt scattered all through the audience. The President would be carefully watched at all times.

"While he is on stage," Victor said, "is where he will be most vulnerable. That is where the secret service and police will be most worried, and have the most trouble keeping him safe."

"There aren't any good vantage points, though," James said, "no high ground. Just flat."

"No doubt planned that way," Victor said, "however there are buildings within shooting distance of an excellent marksman with a scope. Or a computerized marksman with a zoom lens."

"So that's what we're going to do?" James asked.

"No," Victor said, "that's what they'll expect us to do. No doubt they'll have the surrounding buildings being watched carefully. No, I obtained this information not for the security plan when he arrives, but before he arrives."

Victor turned to another page.

"Here is the route he will take from his hotel to the Park," Victor said.

It was a close up map of that section of New York, and the route was outlined in red.

"How'd you ever get this?" James asked.

"Friends in high places," Victor said, smiling, "friends who will do anything to save us from the tyranny and hypocracy that is our leader."

James knew better than to press further. Victor was not forthcoming with his answers. Everything with him was vagueness and circumspection. The only specifics he would give were on how to go about killing their target.

"You've proven your abilities with the launcher," Victor said, "we're going to give you another test."

Victor pointed to a section on the route.

"There is a building here," Victor said, "where I have rented out a space under an assumed name. It has a window which is the perfect vantage point to target the President's limousine. It is from there you will fire."

"Are you sure the name can't be traced back?" James asked.

"No, no," Victor said with a smile, "I used the name of a now deceased policeman. Name of Gatti. You never knew him."

James shook his head.

"Not that I'd know if I did," he said, "but the police will be on us right away."

"No," Victor said, "I'll take care of that. I'll be keeping watch outside the room. When the police start heading up, I'll drop a few smoke bombs, keeping them at bay and shrowding our escape into another room which I've rented out in that same building, only a few doors down. We change clothing, and disguises, and leave the weapons in the room. They won't suspect, and especially not prove, a thing. Don't worry, I've taken every precaution to ensure our safety."

"It's still a bit unnerving," James said.

"Don't you trust me?" Victor asked, "Have I ever steered you wrong?"

James shook his head.

"No," he said, "and of course I trust you. Who else can I trust?"

Victor put his arm around James' shoulder.

"No one," he said, "and always remember that."

* * *

"If they try anything," Elena was saying, "it'll be while the President's onstage. A big show, everyone will see it. A lot of commotion, and a lot of people moving around, perfect for a getaway."

"I agree," Mira said, "the question is how to stop them."

"The secret service working with the FBI and local police will be all over this," Elena said, "it will be hard for Loubar to do anything without immediately being located and tracked down."

"He's done it before with high security," Mira said, "remember the Chinese Minister."

"Don't remind me," Captain van Duran said, "you can bet I caught it from the mayor for that one."

They were all sitting in Captain van Duran's office, the Captain was fuming as usual. He looked like he needed an antacid.

"Any ideas Tyler?" van Duran asked, "If anyone knows Loubar's M.O. you do."

Rollie nodded.

"You can bet that's true," Rollie said, "but in this case I'm not sure. He's got Francis involved somehow. He's going to make sure to get away, but, well, I'm wondering if he's looking to leave behind a scapegoat."

"Frame Gatti for assassinating the President," Mira said, "and walk away clean. The feds will have a man for the crime and everyone walks away happy."

"Except Frank," Angie said.

"Maybe we're pulling the cart before the horse here, people," Mira said, "we don't know Loubar's after the President. Just that he's after Rollie. Maybe we should be concentrating on protecting he and Angie."

"No Mira," Rollie said, "he's taking too long. If he was after me only something would have happened by now once he realized I was still alive. No, he's up to something else in town, and there's one big thing I can think of."

"How did he get Gatti involved?" van Duran asked, "Seemingly voluntarily?"

"Could be anything," Angie said, "with Loubar, you've got to expect both the unexpected and the seemingly impossible."

"Well," van Duran said, "I've got the mayor, the federal government, and internal affairs breathing down my neck during all this. So I want some assurances."

"Is there anyway to identify Loubar, find out who's wearing a mask?" Mira asked.

Rollie glanced at Angie. She seemed to be thinking for a moment.

"Under normal circumstances, no," Angie said, "but this case is different. Rollie you worked with the mask Loubar had right?"

"Most incredible thing I'd ever seen," Rollie said, "if he's got another one it'll be nearly impossible to pick it out as a fake."

"But it had some sort of power source right?" Angie asked.

"Yeah," Rollie said, "but nothing like I'd ever seen. All the power seemed to be stored in the network of chips, like each chip could store it's own temporary amount of power, spread out over the whole mask."

"Could you scan for that power source?" Mira asked.

"Maybe," Angie said, "but you'd have to be right on top of the person for it to register."

"If you could equip several officers at various entrances to the center of the park," van Duran said, "they could check people coming in for that signature."

"That would be awfully slow," Elena said, "and have a lot of room for error. It would be tough to check everyone. And rather conspicuous."

"It's the President," Mira said, "people are expecting to be checked. There will be metal detectors and various checkpoints on the way to the center of the park. One of them could be 'check your head for masks.'"

"It's definitely worth a try," Rollie said.

Captain van Duran nodded.

"Sounds good," he said, "can you do it?"

"Definitely," Rollie said, "I'll make a few calls and we'll have everything ready by tomorrow morning."

"Good," van Duran said.

"Wait," Angie said, "what about the route to the park? Loubar might try something on the way."

Everyone looked at eachother.

"The President won't be leaning out of his car and waving," Mira said, "he's safest on the way. It's once he gets on stage out in the open, that's when we have to worry."

"Ok," Angie said, nodding slightly, "you're the experts."

"Besides Ang," Rollie said, "that's not Loubar's usual style. He likes an audience."

Angie nodded again, but looked still a bit troubled by the thought.

"All right people," van Duran said, getting up, "let's do it. And Sanchez, keep close watch on these two. I don't want Loubar taking a pot shot at them while he's at it."

"We'll take care of them, Captain," Mira said with a smile, "we need them too much to let anything happen."

"Yes," Elena said, "something tells me this time, we're finally one step ahead of Loubar."

* * *

Part 6:

Rollie had made several calls that day, to different friends getting equipment that was either in storage or that had been destroyed when the loft was bombed. He had all the equipment they needed by late the night. Rollie had wanted to stay in the loft, but Mira made him get a hotel room. He didn't get there till one o'clock in the morning though, he spent all night going over plans and strategies with Angie and Elena.

The speech was scheduled for noon. Rollie woke up early and headed to the van.

"Trap's been laid, Blue," Rollie said with a smile as he came through the door, "miss me?"

The robot whined and barked in reply.

"Thought so," Rollie said.

He drove to the Park where they were to meet. Rollie had all the equipment in the back of the van, and he had to give the police a quick overview. When he got there he was met by Mira.

"Where's Ang?" he asked.

"She stayed behind," Mira said, "she said she had an idea for cracking the disk code. She wanted to try, said she'd be here before the fun started."

Rollie nodded.

"And oh what fun it will be," he said.

Rollie opened the back of the van, and started pulling out equipment.

"What is all that?" Mira asked, pointing to a point farther up the van, where a pile of stuff was hidden under a tarp.

"Oh," Rollie said, "a little insurance plan Angie and I came up with, just in case."

Mira raised her eyebrows at him.

"Getting back to basics, Mira," Rollie said, "you'll see."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she said shaking her head, but smiled anyway and helped him pull out the rest of the stuff.

Soon they were showing several police officers how to use the detector devices. Thanks to a little tweaking they could be used as far as a two yards away, so the officers could stand on either side of the entrances, and check everyone as they went by. If a person walked by with a power signature coming off their face, that would be their man. The setting up and training took a couple of hours, including the time it took to get past the secret service at every corner.

"Not the most trusting sort, are they," Rollie quipped.

"They're paid not to be," Mira said back.

"Where's Elena, anyway?" Rollie asked.

"She's going to accompany the President on his way here," Mira said, "she wants to keep an eye out from the beginning till the end."

"Not a bad idea," Rollie said.

"Well, we'll let her handle that," Mira said, checking her watch, "he'll be leaving the hotel soon. Arrive at quarter till twelve."

"Sounds good," Rollie said, "and we'll be ready."

* * *

Angie Ramirez sat in Mira's apartment working on the computer. She was pouring over different methods of breaking Loubar's code. Every hacker's trick she could think of, but she couldn't find the key. Loubar's systems had such a multiple redundancy they seemed impossible to hack through. She had had an idea though. Loubar was dramatic, the way his mind worked he would no doubt apply the code in some way that had to do with what he was thinking, some strange way. Angie had to think of it.

She reopened the decoding program, and began running through the strange series of binary notation that Loubar's disk was coded with. He had to have booted up his system with a decoding disk, set to that particular algorithm, but she didn't have it. When she had tried to decipher the binary notation it had made no sense. She came out with a strange blob of gibberish. Binary represented every character by a series of zeros and ones, but this came out into nothing. She had tried conversion into hexadecimal, from there to standard, she had tried every form of code she knew, nothing.

"Come on," she said, "Loubar what would you be thinking of?"

At that point, he would be thinking of Rollie. Could it be that simple? Angie's fingers flew across the keyboard. If she converted the binary to standard ASCII characters, then substituted a shifted alphabetical code for the gibberish she got, maybe. A shifted alphabetical code meant a second alphabetical set directly underneath the regular, a word would be chosen as a keyword, and that word would replace the beginning of the alphabet. The entire thing would be shifted over however many places, and then the code letters substituted by replacing each subsequent letter of the top alphabet with the new one below. In that way you got a sense of gibberish. So what would Loubar's key word be?

Angie typed one word : Rollie. The decoding program flew through the code at high speed, and the gibberish slowly began to make sense.

"Yes!" she yelled.

Soon every file, every executable became clear. She ran through the file directory. There was more here than she could have time to go through now. Then she paused at one folder. It was marked "Revenge." She opened it. Inside there was tons of information, information on Rollie, saved digital images of his face, her face, and several others. There were countless records as well, and a few video images.

"I don't believe it," she gasped.

Here before her was every step in Loubar's plans for taking revenge on Rollie. She played one of the videos, it showed Loubar pretending to kill Mira, and a few others taunting Rollie. She shook her head at it all. How evil could you get? Then she noticed another file, this one a spreadsheet. She opened it.

There were names, dates, and what appeared to be payments. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned through them. One caught her eye, it was a room Loubar had rented out in an apartment building, it was rented out under Francis' name! Why? Angie looked at the address, it looked familiar for some reason. Quickly she pulled out her PDA and pulled up a map of the city. She zeroed in on the street. It looked familiar, then she opened her eyes wide with shock. Last night they had discussed briefly the route the President would be taking on the way to give his speech, that building was right on one of the streets. There could only be one reason Loubar would rent a room there.

Angie picked up the phone and dialed Rollie's cell phone number. She explained quickly the situation to him, and promised to meet him there. She grabbed her coat and ran out the door.

"Ma'am-" the officer who had been assigned to guard her said.

"No time!" Angie yelled, "You've got to get me downtown and I mean now! Or I'll just take a cab, and won't Mira love that!"

The officer looked flustered but ran after her down to his squad car. Angie's heart was pounding. She only hoped that they wouldn't be too late.

* * *

"I don't believe it!" Mira said as she and Rollie ran back across the Park.

"You should," Rollie said, "we made a mistake and Loubar knew that we would."

"Where are you going?" she asked as Rollie veered away.

"To the van!" he yelled, "I've got to get something! I'll meet you there!"

With that they parted, as Mira started barking orders to several officers. The President had just left the hotel, she was going to have to contact Elena or someone who was on the guarding party. Rollie had other things in mind. He jumped into the van, and checked the small supplies he'd brought with him. A few minutes later, he was on his way. He thought a moment, then made another telephone call, this time to Sarah Gatti. He explained while he drove, then hung up as she raced out of her house.

"Look out, Loubar," he said to himself, "the cavalry's coming."

* * *

James sat on the couch in the apartment. Lying on the floor was the launcher and a scope. He checked his watch, the President would be along in five minutes. Just five minutes, until he, until he what? Killed him? James shook his head. It still didn't feel right, but, it's what his brother said was right. Then again, James didn't really know him. He was supposed to, but with no memories he was having a harder and harder time believing him. His gut just wasn't in this, and something told him that his gut instincts were important to listen to.

James shook his head again. Then again, his brother had saved his life, his brother had taken care of him, his brother rememberd his life. He had to trust him. He had no other choice, no other family, no friends to turn to. James walked to the window from where he would fire. Victor had set up a room a few doors down for him to change clothes and pull off the small disguise he was wearing. A moustache and goutee, dark glasses, somehow it felt familiar, but he wasn't sure.

James slowly opened the window. Only a few minutes now. He had to steel himself. He checked the equipment. Everything was in working order. Slowly he hefted the launcher. He looked down at the crowd gathered to watch the President's limousine pass, if only they knew what was in store. But James wouldn't hurt any of them, just the President, and he deserved it. At least, that's what his brother said. James paused as he saw a little girl run out into the street. She was only about four years old, her mother ran to grab her. She was smiling, happy, dancing, not a care in the world. James heart sunk a bit lower. What would happen to her after seeing something like this?

"James?" a voice said, over the walkie-talkie on the stand.

"Yeah, Victor," he said, "I'm here."

"The parade is on it's way," Victor said, "get ready."

"I'm ready," James said.

"Good," Victor said, "I'm counting on you. The whole country is counting on you."

"I won't let you down," he said.

Victor signed off. He wouldn't let him down. He could hear them coming now, hear the cheers, hear the sound of the car. Then he could see them, see the men marching next to the car, see the long, black limousine carrying the leader of the country. He could see his destiny approaching. And he picked up the launcher again, and got ready to take aim.

* * *

Rollie pulled up on a side street from where the President was coming. He couldn't get to the apartment building, everything was blocked off. He hopped out of the car, and looked around desperately. Loubar would be close, watching, if he wasn't doing the deed himself.

No, Rollie thought, he's having Francis as a scapegoat. He'll be watching from down here, so he can escape.

Rollie picked up the detector and plunged into the crowd.

* * *

James took careful aim as the car slowly drove down the street. It was like slow motion. He could see every face, hear every cry. He felt the weight of the launcher on his shoulder and could hear his brother's voice asking him not to let him down. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, but not from heat. The car got closer, and he put his finger to the trigger.

Suddenly the door burst open and a woman with several officers behind her burst in, guns drawn.

"Detective Gatti!" she yelled, "Put the weapon down or we'll shoot!"

James froze. Gatti, that was the name Victor had put the room under. He struggled with his thoughts.

"My name is Elena Serrano," she said slowly, "I'm a friend of Rollie Tyler, and Mira Sanchez. You need help, Francis, let us help you and put the weapon down."

James hesitated again. Rollie Tyler? The man that had killed his wife. If she was his friend. James looked out the window again, the car was about to pass.

"Mr. Gatti!" Elena said, "Francis don't make me do this. I don't want to but I will."

Then a voice rose from behind them all.

"Let me in!" it said, "I'm his wife!"

"Let her in!" Elena yelled.

A woman came through the crowd of officers up to the front, and James heart stopped.

"Francis," she said, in a pleading voice, "Francis stop this. Francis it's me, Sarah."

"Sarah?" James said in a small voice.

Her face, her face was so familiar. Yes, it was her. It was Sarah. But she was alive? James, was he James? The man's voice trembled.

"Sarah," he said again, slowly rising.

"Yes, Frankie," she said, "it's me."

She held out her arms. Frankie? It sounded so familiar. He didn't know what to think, but an instinct stronger than any other told him he could trust this woman, that he loved this woman. He walked slowly toward her, and held out his arms as well. She ran into them, and a warm and familiar feeling came over him.

"Sarah," he said, putting his hand on her head.

Elena slowly put down her gun as did the rest of the officers. And the President's car passed.

* * *

Rollie breathed a sigh of relief as the President's car passed the building, they had stopped Francis. He could only hope he would recover from whatever Loubar had done to him. Now to find Loubar and make him pay. A man caught Rollie's eye, he had blond hair, was about Rollie's height, and moving through the crowd away from the street. Rollie managed to squeeze his way around and behind him, and put the detector up to the back of him. A soft beeping sound hit as the detector registered a power source. The man turned around.

"Hello old friend," Rollie said with venom in his voice, "miss me?"

The man's mouth dropped open for a moment, then pushed people aside as he took off. Rollie was right behind him. They ran across another street and around to the side of a building. A car was parked at the other end of the side street. Before Loubar could reach the car, Rollie tackled him, the tumbled to the ground, and Rollie ended up on top. Rollie pulled a gun out of his pocket.

"Well, look who I've got," Rollie said.

Rollie ripped the wig and mask off of the man, to reveal Victor Loubar underneath.

"Tyler," he said, simply, then grabbed the gun.

They struggled with it and Loubar managed to kick Rollie off of him, ripping the gun away. Loubar got up.

"You always were a terrible fighter, Tyler," he said, holding the gun to Rollie, "time to do what I should have done a long time ago."

Loubar pulled the trigger three times, and three stains of blood appeared on Rollie's shirt. Rollie's eyes slumped up and he sagged to the ground.

"Well," Loubar said, "that was as enjoyable as I thought it would be, though I will miss having someone to torture."

Loubar looked up and saw officers headed his way from far across the street. Loubar turned and began to run toward the car. Then a jolt of pain hit him in the back of his neck and he fell to his knees. He was spun around and stared into Rollie Tyler's face. Then a fist came across his mouth, and he fell to the ground. Rollie kneeled over him.

"This is for Angie," Rollie said, giving him another vicious punch to the face.

"And this is for Francis," he said, punching him again, "and this is for me."

Rollie heaved back and punched him a third time. Loubar's eyes began to roll around in his head.

"And this is for all the times scum like you have beaten me up," Rollie said, backhanding him across the face.

Loubar's face was bloody, but he was still conscious. Rollie picked up the gun, and put it to Loubar's head.

"Maybe I should rid the world of your kind," Rollie said, and Loubar's eyes widened.

"Rollie!" a voice yelled, "Don't."

Mira Sanchez came up behind Rollie, along with a few officers and Angie.

"It's not worth it," she said.

Rollie smiled.

"I know," he said, "but the look on his face was something to have for a lifetime."

Loubar was still on the ground, and sputtered, blood dripping from his mouth.

"How?" he asked.

"Well you should know that," Rollie said, still smiling, "a gun with blanks, a few small explosives and some red die, looks very authentic. After all you did the same thing."

Rollie smiled at the look on Loubar's face.

"You tried to use illusion, art, and F/X, Loubar," Rollie said, standing over him, "but you made one mistake, you messed with the master."

Loubar said nothing. Angie walked up next to him, and Rollie hugged her. Then something appeared in Loubar's hand. He pressed a button and the dumpster a few feet behind them exploded. They dove to the ground, and when Rollie looked up Loubar was getting in his car.

"No!" Rollie yelled.

Loubar started the car, he was still half leaning out, screaming at Tyler.

"And I always have a back up plan Tyler!" he yelled, still spitting blood, "I'll see you next time!"

Mira was on her feet, gun out. She took careful aim as Loubar tried to back up. His side window, then back window shattered from gunshots. Then one of her bullets struck the gas tank. Loubar, who had not fully closed the door, was thrown from the car by the force of the blast and struck the wall of the building. They ran up to him, another officer calling for the fire department and an ambulance. Loubar's face was unrecognizable, burned horribly.

"I think he's still breathing," Mira said, "get the ambulance over here quick."

And something in the primative part of Rollie Tyler's mind, wished they would take their time.

* * *

"How is he?" Mira asked the doctor.

"Third degree burns over most of his face and body," the doctor says, "and he seems to have lost all memory from the concussion and trauma. He broke one arm and an ankle as well. It's amazing he's still alive. He may not stay that way. If he does, he'll have to be taken care of for most of his life."

"Thank you doctor," Mira said.

Loubar was in intensive care. His entire body wrapped, healing, soon to be grafted. He wasn't responsive, didn't speak. He was being fed intraveneously.

"At least we know where he is," Angie said.

She, Rollie, Mira, and Elena all stood in the waiting room.

"How's Francis?" Rollie asked.

"Better," Mira said, "he's regaining memories, but slowly. With Sarah's help I think he'll be all right. The DA's office isn't going to prosecute, after the extenuating circumstances were explained."

"I still can't believe we finally got him," Elena said.

"Yes," Angie said, "thanks to Rollie."

Rollie shook his head.

"Thanks to all of us," he said.

They all smiled, for the first time in a while. Also for the first time in a while, Rollie Tyler felt almost normal.

"What are you guys going to do?" Mira asked.

Rollie looked at Angie and smiled.

"Go back to life," he said, "life without Victor Loubar."

"Amen to that," Angie said.

Slowly they walked out of the hospital. The sun was bright outside. Bright like Rollie's future. Bright like Rollie's life. He smiled and soaked it in.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "life. And life looks pretty good."

* * *

In intensive care, in a private room, a mass of burned flesh lay. Charred, beaten, and broken, it was wrapped and looked mummified. It's mind was equally wrapped. No memory, no feeling. Just emptiness. It couldn't move. It just stared blankly around the room, eyes rolling around in their sockets. Thoughts would come in brief flashes, intervals. Nothing coherent. Where was it? Who was it? What was it? It searched for answers in the thing that was it's brain, but no answers came. Then a thought hit it, no, not a thought a feeling. A strange, but familiar feeling. A feeling that warmed it's whole body, and sent a tingle through the few areas where the nerves still worked. It recognized it. Hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred. It let his fill it's body. It let it be the only emotion, for it felt so good. Then another thought came, also quick, brief, but a word. A single word. It went along with the hatred. And in that empty room, a single word seemed to echo off the walls despite the soft, cracked voice that said it.

"Tyler."

* * *