Kolchak: The Nylon Stalker, Not To Praise But To Bury Him. free porn video

KOLCHAK: THE NYLON STALKER. (Based upon characters created by Jeff Rice.) By Way Zim. CASE TWO; NOT TO PRAISE BUT TO BURY HIM. Oct 4th, 2005 Cleveland, Ohio. Karen Foster Klein's Journal; I had once told a good friend 'The Weird just keep getting weirder. ' It was never more true than the events which involved the funeral of my former Ego, with an old acquaintance held hostage by the darkest specter ever. At least since a small skirmish Kolchak and company had taken part in. The Korean War. Sept 20th 2005. "This is Ms. Karen Foster Klein?" inquired a rather prim woman's voice as I answered my phone. I'd been caught up short by Karen's... my agency, curious as to the structure of several articles I'd recently submitted. Dorothy Weller had been editor for several years now, taken by surprise by certain creeping style changes. It wasn't the conclusions, or the virtually acerbic edge, but rather some odd sports metaphors which popped up unexpectedly. I was forced, therefore, to reconstruct the bulk of my work, taking many hours to imitate my host's brand of journalistic purple prose. While I'd hoped to do better in this role, Carl Kolchak was a hard man to kill, even while residing in the body of a lovely young reporter. But this was my penance, to be the best woman I could be, after terrible circumstances drove her essence into an endless void. This old male could only try to live her life well, to revitalize that tiny spark until she was reborn from the resulting flame... "This is She," I responded testily, only to receive a shock as the mystery caller announced."Please hold for Jacob Emerson Kane." My old boss at Independent News Service, someone I hadn't thought of since leaving Kolchak's life behind. His somewhat cultured tone seemed amused by my perturbed silence."Ms. Klein, are you there?" "Yes... I mean, what's this pertaining to?" "You may know that I'm the editor in chief for INS... Out of Chicago?" he answered, as dryly charming as always, taking my measure sight unseen. "I'm calling to inquire about one of my reporters? I understand that you were the last one to see him." "See Him?... Mr. Kane?" "There's no need to play coy with me, Ms. Klein," Jacob bluntly derailed my weak dodge. "It took me long enough to determine who exactly stole Carl Kolchak from his retirement party. You do remember that. Don't you?" "Again, the reason for this call?" I could picture Kane with his patented professional tenor, level and calm before an unknown. He must have realized who Karen was, his polite calculations careful not to underestimate her. Unfortunately, I failed to do the same. "It's really nothing. More a matter of Book Keeping than anything else." His reassuring voice was hardly that. "Carl vanished into thin air, shortly after he left our employ. His lease on his place was allowed to lapse, mail neither collected nor forwarded to a new address. While it's still too early, I assume there will be additional interested parties, looking to settle accounts..." "And I can see your problem." I chuckled lightly, imagining the legions of debt holders looking for satisfaction. Old Kolchak had definitely racked up a mountain of IOU's in his long life. I let Kane hang for a bit while lazily contemplating my finely tapered fingers, nails shining with a rose gloss finish. One hell of a disguise to avoid the collectors, legit or more nefarious... "But I don't see it as my problem. Naturally I'd like to help..." "I'm glad to hear that, Ms. Klein," the voice at the other end cut in cheerfully. "Of course any information, as to his whereabouts, would be helpful. There is another matter though. One which necessitates your presence?" I felt real worry creep into my psyche for the first time since June. For Karen's sake, I mustered a nonchalant tude with a bemused smile on my lips. "If you're certain that necessary, Mr. Kane?" "Just for the record, Ms. Klein," Jacob assured me once again. "It's a nuisance, I know, for a busy woman such as yourself. It would aid us greatly toward resolving this little problem. So you'll come?" "I'll be there then," I promised, seeing no way to back out now."Will early the day after tomorrow be soon enough?" "Looking forward to meeting you, Ms. Klein." Sept 22nd. Chicago, Illinois. The office of Jacob Emerson Kane was immaculate, stylishly classic. A mix of oak and maple furnishings, with photos of his trophy family strategically placed about his broad desk. The well groomed forty eight year old was not a miserly banker of old, or ruthless editor from an Orson Welles film. Rather he was an efficient man... raised to the nth degree. "I'm sorry to have dragged you in on such short notice, Ms. Klein," Jacob intoned with practiced sincerity as he rose to greet me. With him were two city Detectives, as if from some Crime Show or one of it's countless spin-offs. "Just as I am that the proper authorities want to be in on our discussion." Carl's relationship with the police, of every rank, in countless cities and corresponding counties, had hardly been cordial. But the elder officer, a full figured yet fit policewoman, was very polite as she shook my hand."I'm Detective Lauren Draper, Ms. Klein. My Partner..." Her slight hand flourish indicated a much younger yet dour male. "... is Detective Marcus Jones." "My pleasure?" I ventured tentatively, more interested in the terse interplay between my interrogators than any implied wrongdoing on my part. "Though frankly I'm somewhat confused. Is there something here that a simple phone call couldn't have cleared up just as easily?" "Any Missing Persons report, however haphazardly submitted, is always taken quite seriously," the thin framed junior officer responded curtly. "And when we got wind of Mr. Kane's private investigation..." "We just need a more accurate time-line to work from." Detective Draper cut in, hushing her companion with a sideways glare."According to several witnesses, from June 14th to the 15th of this year, you were in the company of Mr. Kolchak. Not long after, He seemingly vanished off the face of the Earth." "That's true," I confirmed, wondering at the odd thoroughness of both Jacob and the Chicago Police Department. Still, I was left to wonder... just what was missing from their reports. "He was helping with a story I was running down at the time. At the conclusion of which we were separated. I never saw Carl Kolchak after that." "Are you sure that's all, Ms. Klein?" Detective Draper pressed, and the tone of her voice confirmed that something more was going on. "What was this story? Were there any aspects of it which specifically concerned Mr. Kolchak? What was the last thing he said to you?" What indeed? I wanted to laugh out loud at this, the only word to emerge from that terrible void was Karen's. 'Remember.' As if I could ever forget? To be on the safe side, I gave her an even more sanitized version of Janus ReGen than I'd told to Gale. From the expectant expression in Jones startlingly blue eyes, he waited for me to stumble. Only when it came to explaining Carl's ultimate disappearing act, was I at a loss. "So far your account seems consistent with the facts thus far." Draper confirmed, even as I gave Jones a sweet smile. He appeared so determined to uncover some dark conspiracy, it was almost endearing. "But I'm still unclear as to when, exactly, you lost touch with Carl? Didn't it strike you as odd? This man whom you were in such close proximity to for two days, never tried to contact you again?" "Well." Jacob stepped in quickly, much to my surprise."In our business, we don't necessarily keep up with our sources, however helpful they prove to be. And please remember that Kolchak had just retired when this came about. Ms. Klein has been forthright about her involvement with the man, so if you could cut her some slack?" "We would love to." All in the room turned toward Jones who had the good sense to look slightly embarrassed. "I mean, an abandoned hidden room behind a false office front? Doesn't it seem somewhat anticlimactic?" "And yet Janus ReGen ceased to be, after that day." I suggested somewhat haughtily."While I could scarcely call this a successful crusade, so far there's been no reemergence of the site." "I think," Draper suggested somewhat conciliatory, "we'll follow up on what Karen has given us. I'd like you to stay in town for a few days, if that's possible? " "I can arrange that from this end," Jacob remarked, giving me a sly look. "If that's amenable to my colleague?" "If you'd asked me that earlier in the week..." I sighed, debating whether or not to call Dorothy, before thinking better of it. She'd ask why I never mentioned any of this to her before. Why I didn't consider it newsworthy enough, even in retrospect. "Then it settled," the older woman responded warmly, taking my hand once more. "I do appreciate your cooperation in this matter, Ms. Klein. We'll get in touch with you through Mr. Kane." "Wonderful," I murmured under my breath as the two cops left, turning on my sensible heels as the door swung shut. "OK, that was interesting. Now... MR. KANE... What did I just walk into?" Jacob chuckled with dark humor at my no nonsense glare, clearly unfazed as his smug grin ticked me off. "They shouldn't have been involved quite like this. But apparently young Marcus is quite the career climber. Once he brought our inquiries to Lauren's notice, well, that's water under the bridge..." "Or Over The Dam. Come on, Jacob... Give." It was good to see him blink, even if it seemed that he saw someone other than Karen. Jacob Emerson Kane was not the man to believe anything beyond the practical. Still, just for that split second ... "You're right, of course." His admission was almost as shocking, but not as much as what he said next. "It wasn't simply that one of my more controversial reporters left town without a word. Not even the small wave of inquiries from the aforementioned agencies. "Shortly after the 17th we received three Death notices through our service. Unremarkable under any other circumstance, except for the coincidence which linked them to our wayward employee." I remained skeptical even as my host rummaged through his desk drawers. This poster boy for Brooks Brothers chic acted like a school boy searching for homework. Fumbling as Jacob did, it contrasted his square- jawed continence with a flash of vulnerability. Eventually though, Kane found a print-out which he silently passed to me. "Now that is a coincidence," I quipped badly, feeling my world turn upside down as I scanned the obits... George Stratford; Age 74. Ever the practical joker when we served together. Died when a seemingly minor rear-end collision resulted in the premature deployment of the drivers-side airbag. Trapped by his seatbelt, George suffocated when the device failed to deflate. Eugene Harris; Age 73. Master tinker and scrounger of our squad. Killed on a construction site when a piston misfired within a pneumatic jack, driving it into his chest with incredible force. The witnesses stated that it was like hearing balloons popping, as both lungs were irreversibly compressed in an instant. Abel Mason; Age 77. Soldier, Poet, and Amateur Horticulturist. Always Full of Beans, as his comrades used to joke. He and his grandson were laying new irrigation lines for the modest orchard he'd bought upon retirement. While kneeling in a ditch to inspect a pipe connector, he was caught by an unexpected ground collapse. By the time rescuers dug him out of the unusually compacted earth, it was as if Abel had inhaled several lbs of dirt, so coated were his lungs with the stuff. All this would have fallen under random chance, save for a special connection unmentioned in their brief bios... Not to belabor my unique position, but there was a moment of panic where my first thought was to call Home. My second impulse was to contact The Professor. In all Honesty, neither option had anything to do with solving the problem... Korea has long been called the Forgotten War, following as it did on the heels of The Good War, World War II. Almost a practice run, it would be greatly overshadowed by a later Military Action called Vietnam. During such times, even the best of men might act with duplicity, not always on the battlefield itself... "It wasn't easy to track down all the members of Kolchak's old company," Kane recalled cynically, reclining back in his black leather chair, eyeing me with that now familiar male appreciation. What would he have said? if I'd told him the object of his search, was currently this hot chick in a cream colored blouse and fitted slacks? "I imagine most were Dead, or spread across several states," I rejoined mischievously. In ironic contrast to his profession, Carl had been notoriously fickle in his correspondence. Apart from about eight guys, he'd lost touch with most of the rest. Of those eight, only half lived within the Chicago area... "Something like that." His uncharacteristic lopsided grin touched off a tingle inside. It was a feeling I'd become annoyingly familiar with, more so in the last month or two. "Look, I know this is somewhat out of your territory. It's not harassing a manufacturer for a bad coffee maker, or some Carnie pushing cheap knock-offs..." "Who have real weapons as often as writs," I chastised him, though perhaps not that long ago I'd have shared his sexist attitude. "I've received my fair share of death threats, so if you're suggesting..." "I suppose I was." He covered my hand with genteel restraint, just informal enough but not crossing into Inappropriate Touching. "Perhaps I was thinking you hadn't exactly volunteered for this case. Maybe I am a little old fashioned." "Let's just say that Kolchak made an impression, MR. KANE." My icy tone was not without some humor, albeit well hid. "I sorta owe him for his assistance, so I'm happy to help you out." "It's settled then," Jacob agreed with a smile, all forgiven in his mind. "So why don't I get you situated at the hotel and we can have a late lunch? My treat, of course." "First, I'd like copies of all the documents pertaining to this case," I amended with a neutral voice. "Then after you escort me to my room, I'd like some time to take in the city. On my own. As for Food... why don't I meet you for dinner? There's an Italian place across from the hotel. Say around 5:30?" "As you wish, Ms. Klein," chuckled Kane. "Consider it a date." "Let's consider it business, Mr. Kane. Make sure you hold on to all receipts, so there can be no misunderstandings. Especially if the proper authorities are involved..." It was nice to find him more appreciative of what Karen was capable of. Later on, we would discover just how much one hand would wash the other... Old Chicago; the scene of the crime, so to speak. I was almost surprised to find the building, an unassuming mix of old masonry and modern glass facade, still intact. Perhaps I'd thought it would have burned down, or simply fallen into ruin after the magic left. The false storefront was as I remembered, and the alleyway... There was where Karen flirted so outrageously with the delivery men, allowing us eventual access into the temple. I thought we'd been so clever at the time... "You consider me a flight risk, Detective Jones?" I asked my tail as he walked up to stand beside me. "Do you think you need to? Ms. Klein?" he asked in obvious deadpan, and I looked to see a faint upturn to those thin lips."No, I'm just here to satisfy my own curiosity. Shall we go in?" "Why not?" I agreed with a sudden wicked indulgence. "Of course this could be considered Breaking & Entering? You have a warrant?" "It's a vacant property, held by City Union Bank until a buyer can be found," the officer answered before holding up a set of keys. "I believe this constitutes Consent." Marcus Jones was an odd contradiction, clearly tenacious in his own beliefs, ambitious, it was true. But as we entered through the front door, his attentions were more on my reaction than the scene itself. One might have supposed he was looking for a Patsy to fit his theory. I wasn't quite sure that was it. Once inside, all my memories came out at once, along with the regret. But unlike before, there was something extra. It was a presence which revealed itself in flashes of emotions, equal yet greatly diminished before my own psyche. As in this instance, the ghost within my mind fought to make itself heard, with dramatic results. "You're right," I quietly capitulated to the phantom sense of annoyance. "No time for a pity party." "What are you thinking, Ms. Klein?" my escort asked politely, again with an absence of that prosecutorial manner. "I'm thinking that for the present, you might as well call me Karen? This Ms. Klein crap is getting a bit tired." Even as Marcus nodded I was already on the move, my attentions drawn toward the far back wall. Before, it had been a vague shimmer which had offset the structure from the rest of the building. That was gone, replaced by a fresh coat of satin white gloss. "So much for a vacant property. Someone's been busy here." Marcus ran a finger over the now solid barrier, as engaged as I was in the game. "This was done within the last few weeks. Perhaps City Union was performing some routine upkeep?" "Perhaps." I couldn't help but tease his straight-line logic. "If so, then would you mind explaining that?" Maybe for some, deity or other, Omnipotence was not so in the middling details. Marcus hunkered down to examine this odd artifact. If the olive bough had simply been lying on the floor, but no. It was stuck through the wall, about a quarter of the way up from the base, with only a unblemished surface surrounding the limb... My companion made a phone call. "The pair of you," Lauren Draper muttered in amazement, while a couple Forensics experts puttered about the proffered Olive Branch. "It's almost like Carl Kolchak, back on the job." "You knew him?" I asked, trying to remember her from all the people I'd honked off over four decades. "After a fashion," she recalled with dry wit. "I'd been some three years out of the Academy, a beat cop stuck with desk duty for some minor infraction. At that time Kolchak was well past his prime but no wiser. There had been a series of unusual deaths in my precinct. All young Hispanic men, all drown, but none near an identifiable water source. One kid even died in his car." "So, some person or persons killed them elsewhere?" Marcus interjected. "Then they moved the bodies?" "One would have thought," she gently chastised her young partner. "Except for the lack of trauma on the corpses. No sign of violence, not even a blemish about the arms or legs. All were at a loss to explain it. All, save one rather belligerent reporter who burst into our Captain's office, shouting about some Weeping Woman." I giggled unconsciously at the memory of one of my last paranormal cases, back in the early 90's. She'd been a young Latina, fallen in with the wrong crowd. When the girl witnessed the murder of a small child by some of her posse, they bludgeoned her repeatedly to the point of Death. Sophia Orlando, age seventeen, was weighted down then sunk in the East River. One small problem; she was still alive when they did it, though the gang never knew that until it was too late. For such a sweet girl in Life, she made for one Hell of a vengeful specter... "So what happened?" asked Marcus. "Was the case finally solved?" "Kolchak thought he had," Lauren answered softly. "The investigating officers at the time found him with an unconscious local priest by the waterfront. They were surrounded by religious artifacts, their lungs partially filled with water. The medics managed to resuscitate both of them, but all they would say was the Exorcism was a success." "And yet, afterwards, there were no more homicides exactly like that." I amended without thinking. Detective Draper nodded. "Though technically it's still a Cold Case of sorts, you're right. This one however... you boys almost done?" "Just wrapping up ma'am," one of the specialists responded. "We took a clipping from the plant, as well as some paint and wood samples. Of course we'll run through every test we can think of, but so far I can reach only one conclusion." "Yes?" "You have a plant growing out of the wall, ma'am." he chuckled, then got serious as she was unimpressed."Look at the surface. It's relatively uniform, no sign of anything forced through it. This is an oddly solid wall, not the usual two tier construct. "From some soundings, and this I can't be sure of, there might be another area behind it. If I could strip off the paint and undercoat, perhaps we could determine if the lumber was improperly cured. That could explain..." "Just let me know how the labs turn out before we do any more damage here," sighed the woman, frustrated and somewhat put out by her partner. "Take some gas readings as well? If someone is playing a joke, I'd like to know if it's larceny... or something worst. If it's more... I'll have permission to tear this place up within a few hours." "Lauren... I'm sorry," Marcus began, "Karen was here and seeing as I'd already gotten permission from City Union..." "Water over the dam," the senior officer murmured before letting into him just a bit. "I do appreciate initiative from my partners, but next time you do need to let me know. I can't cover your ass if things go wrong, otherwise. Truth?" "Truth," he rejoined, properly rebuked. "Is there anything else I can do today?" "Go talk to your buddies at City Union. Find out the last time work was done here?" she requested easily, his small indiscretion already forgotten. "Then see if we can't save the judge some time. Get them to sign off on additional investigation of this building. If they want someone on the premise, that's fine. Oh, and get all the records you can on this property, OK?" "Can do," Marcus responded, plainly happy to be back in her good graces. "Now, Karen." She turned on me with an unfathomable look. "We invited you here to fill in the gaps, not to interfere with an ongoing investigation. Do you understand? For the present you're simply aiding our inquiry. I don't want to have to charge you with Obstruction..." "Yes ma'am," I agreed contritely, deciding to leave this alone for the present. I did have other venues to explore, after all... The matter settled for now, Lauren returned to the task at hand while I got back in my car. I decided to call on a still relatively new ally, but for the first time he wasn't there for me. Apparently The Professor was on some retreat, so I was forced to deal with his service. I left a message while contemplating this washout of a day. It was too late to take care of other business, still too early for my rendezvous with Jacob, so I cruised past old haunts as I considered my options. The Gods were manipulating me, clearly, and yet at least one avenue of communication had been slammed shut! If The Professor was in with them, perhaps he was leaving me hanging for a reason? I decided to drop by my hotel room and freshen up some before dinner. After my shower I dialed the local VA branch on impulse, giving them Kolchak's dog-tag ID and other information. I explained it was for a genealogy, and that I would stop by tomorrow. For this lady, the old soldier at the other end was quite accommodating. I checked my messages, but nothing yet from The Professor. It was like I was some jilted girl waiting for her boyfriend to call. "Ms, Klein," Jacob greeted me as I entered the restaurant, expecting a candle-lit dinner for two. It was to my pleasant surprise that he was with another woman, a petite young lady with scarlet hair and a burgundy cocktail dress. "This is Naomi, my wife." "No misunderstandings." I laughed, warmly taking her hand. "Indeed," he answered agreeably, sharing a discreet moment with the little woman. Perhaps there had been other such misunderstandings. Maybe it was my own expectations overturned. But whatever. The food turned out excellent as did the company, Naomi slightly brighter than I'd remembered from Carl's few polite encounters. "Did you have a pleasant tour of the city?" she asked innocently, missing the incongruity, both in my mission and the company I kept. "Very much so. I went over old territory that Kolchak and I had covered," I explained as matter of fact. "And I ran into our police friends in Old Chicago." "Then it would seem your story has heightened their interest in this case," Jacob suggested stuffily through a mouthful of Linguini. "Beyond the mundane Missing Persons report, I mean. Well done." "I told them nothing which wouldn't have been Public Knowledge anyway," I shot back harshly. "Besides, I think this distracts them from the more notorious aspects of this new case. If your own clumsy attempts to pump the cops hadn't done that already..." "My inquiries were nothing if not judicious," this self-important man insisted, thinking I knew nothing of his personality or his largely one- sided diplomacy. For my part I let him, smiling blandly before glibly retorting. "Obviously." "So, I'm wondering," our third wheel mused, flashing me a speculative gaze. "Did Jacob suddenly get a sister? or a second wife? The way you two act, it has to be one or the other..." Jacob seemed startled for just a second, as if an unwelcome fantasy popped into his ordered mind. I, myself, smiled at her accidental insight, though if he'd actually figured out the cosmic joke... "Very funny, ladies." A return to sanity in that measured rebuke, at least on his part. Clearly he'd decided this was simply two women ganging up on the lone male. Clearly he wasn't that amused. But perhaps this kept the secret. At least awhile longer. On the other hand, I still needed his resources to get through this case. "Ain't it though?" He ultimately decided to go along with us, Naomi ridiculously grateful to have pulled a fast one on her husband. I couldn't help but wonder how often that happened in the Kane household. Carl Kolchak had often been too distracted by his own ambitions to care. For Karen, such things were both her job and her passion. I found myself increasingly engaged despite some lingering bad habits. In the lobby of the hotel, I surprised myself by taking her hand fondly, not quite sure what we shared in that moment. Still, Naomi took the gesture largely as I meant it, even if her stoic spouse didn't get it. "It was fun tonight, Karen." "It really was," I admitted, that ambiguous sense of sisterhood oddly satisfying. "But I'm afraid I really need my beauty sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow." "Is that so, Ms. Klein?" So, it was back to that with Jacob as Naomi gave me a friendly shake of her head. "What kind of errands?" "I'm just looking up some old friends... of Carl's," I amended with a coy smile, giving my new sister a wave before dismissively turning on the perplexed chauvinist. Naomi was right... it had been a fun night. Sept 23rd. The VA was bustling, even at nine in the morning, servicing as it did all branches, as well as all generations who fought in innumerable conflicts. Post Combat Stress, missing limbs, or simply a disconnect with a country which never really understood what we left on the myriad battlefields. No matter the war, or military action, many of the features looked the same. They looked... old. "May I help you, young lady?" requested the elder behind the desk, the voice on the line from last night. "You out of uniform? Or simply here for some information?" "Not for many years now," I responded without too much thought, nearly forgetting my feminine guise, clad in a cool grey dress suit and starched white blouse. Memories of my own reflected back from that soft brown intelligent gaze, trapped though it was beneath deep wrinkles. "As for the latter... I called yesterday? Looking for information pertaining to one Carl Kolchak?" "Ah, of course," he responded with great deliberation, both of the information and the pretty girl before him. "You'd be Miss. Klein then? Doing some kind of homework for school?" "Again, not for many years now... but thank you." I giggled, as much for the old man as myself. There for the grace of the Gods, after all. "It's personal. I'm reconstructing a family tree, of sorts..." "I've seen Kolchak in here on rare occasion," he ventured with a burst of interest. "I didn't think that he had any family left..." "It's a more obscure relationship actually," I temporized with a cute upturn of my pert lips. "So, were you able to... ?" "We did," he confirmed amiably, reaching over to nab his phone with stubby fingers. "Though there was a blank period of a month where we had to cross services. Still, it's likely as complete as you'll ever get it..." "I'm sure it'll be enough," I cooed a bit too cheerfully. Maybe I felt some relief, having escaped my previous decrepitude. Perhaps it was just Karen shining through. Whatever my reason for flirting so outrageously, he enjoyed the gesture as the faded soldier notified someone that I was there. "Ms. Klein?" She was young, smart in her Army duds. Those lean cheeks held an expression, oh so formal. "I'm Corporal Catherine Tyler. I have a release for you to sign. Authorizing transfer of these documents?" This Woman's Military had taken Kolchak by surprise, even with the creeping progress we'd made over the long haul. Girls, for him at least, had always been those waiting at home, or tending the wounded in Hospital. But even accepting them in support or transport positions? Still, this new breed of Amazon embodied a fierce femininity, and in spite of my Paleolithic past I couldn't help but like this warrior woman. "Thank you, Corporal," I gushed just a little as I affixed my awkward yet elegant scrawl to the receipt. "You seen action yet?" I figured if a man had asked with such a patronizing tone... but this petite clearly buff girl only gave a quick tentative look before deciding I was sincere. "I did... in Iraq. Got some shrapnel in me from an IED. It did enough damage to send me stateside for a bit. At least until I get my strength back. In the meanwhile, I serve time here." "Well, this sol... civilian appreciates your time, and your service," I soothed, accepting her hint of bitterness, along with the boxed paperwork. "This will help straighten out things." "I just hope you find what you're after," she whispered somewhat reverently. "Some of those files have been gathering dust long enough. It's good for everyone that they get aired out, from time to time." This was where it got sticky. I knew I was venturing into some weird territory here, investigating my own life. Digging through the piles of superfluous papers, I almost had to act as if I didn't know what I already knew. Eight men who'd survived the worst of the war, from early in 51 through to late 52. And somewhere in between all this, seven had lucked into duty which rescued us from several catastrophic campaigns. We were part of an ad hoc crew, aiding some envoy from D.C. It was largely menial jobs as gofers or chauffeurs, carting the representative around then UN Occupied Seoul. I never knew the exact nature of his mission, and you'd be hard pressed to find it mentioned in any official reports. It lasted for just a week, and we were kept hopping until that final night... My self-reflection was interrupted by an addendum, updated just within the last few months. Yet another coincidence in a rapidly growing construct, ever building toward an image I couldn't yet see. But while the endgame remained uncertain, this girl was not one to reject an unexpected gift out of hand. I drove south, to a nursing home where the final piece to this puzzle lived. He was still alive, though apparently not doing too well these days. He'd recently suffered a stroke which left him bedridden, on Oxygen, and barely able to speak. Still, he had most of his mental faculties... and the full use of his left hand which was doing something naughty as I entered the room. There he was, former Corporal Dillon Gilles, our missing man. The chief instigator to our crime, drink induced though it may have been. But in some countries, the desecration of a temple got you killed on the spot... "Q... Tee." That drooping mouth somehow managed a creditable smirk, even as his slightly moist palm waved in greeting. "Who?" "Uh... Mr. Gilles? I'm Karen Foster Klein?" I forced a sexy smile, even as my brother displayed slight arousal before this cute chick. "I'm here on a matter of some importance. It's about Carl Kolchak." "Right?" he mumbled weakly from beneath the clear mask. Still, those lucid eyes undressed me which I found encouraging, if not more than a little creepy. "Folks consider him to be MIA," I stressed, scooting a chair up next to his bed. Gill Man; as we used to call him, took the news with unusual calm. I realized in that moment that Dillon had probably come to the same conclusion I did. Our past was catching up with us."Only..." "One?" I blurted out, wondering how many of the seven had died from this unnatural suffocation. Gilles thought he was all alone now, and in principle he'd have been correct. "Right." "Mr. Gilles..." I began again, not quite sure how to broach the question I wanted answered. "Back during your military days in Korea... you and your buddies, including Carl Kolchak, went off field for a temporary posting in Seoul. Do you recall that?" "Not?" the sly bastard, forever the patriot. With over fifty years gone by, what possible State Secrets were being violated here? "Not your mission," I argued, idly toying with my done up collar. His stubborn gaze flitted down and across my concealed breasts. "It's what happened afterwards...." "Cuse?" Dillon was still defensive, but I had his attention. What was it Karen had said in our journal? That women had two invaluable assets in uncovering the truth? That was ridiculous, of course. "You all had one final night to whoop it up. Before being shipped back into combat. Yes?" "May?" "May nothing." I was getting a little testy, but still that lecherous gaze followed my fingers as they undid a couple buttons. "The gang got this idea from Bronx Bobby. He was this scrawny I-Tie with a rep for knowing where the score was. Right?" The old guy broke away to stare right into my eyes, looking for something behind these fluttering lashes. Of course I was happy to indulge him. "Drugs, Booze, Broads. No matter where he was, he could sniff out a good time. Right?" "Cept." His dour tone confirmed that mistake we'd made still hung heavy for him."Except this time he got the wrong address. "I acknowledged sternly."We thought we were headed for an alley where the Hooch was cheap and the girls were..." "... Cheaper." The damned sorry fool was smirking again, even as he gave me the once-over."Kolchak?" "We found ourselves outside some kind of Temple. We were chasing girls, but they were already chaste. Weren't they, Gill Man? Some kind of vestal virgins?" Dillon clucked his tongue clumsily even as his eyes bobbed down toward my still covered cleavage. "May?" "May. May. May," I taunted him. "Is that all you have for me? For the rest of us, it was just some sloppy grab-tail. Like dogs who chased cars, we wouldn't have done any harm if we caught one. But you wanted more?" Gilles got close-lipped real fast, the only noise from him was a shallow wheeze as he sucked air. Still, that level stare made clear what he wanted from me. I'm not sure he truly believed, or that the old goat wouldn't have pulled the same shit with Karen. But even if Dillon was looking to humiliate the war buddy within the babe, I needed what he had... I opened up more of my blouse, giving him a better view at my goodies. Their deep blush was simply icing on the cake."You vanished when the old ladies, the house moms came out, waving their bamboo brooms. Even when we decided to retreat, we couldn't very well leave you behind. "Five minutes, man! I need to know where you went in those five minutes." "More?" He was really determined to make me go through with it. Still, even the dirty old man was impressed as I flashed my girls. My bra was more modest than a bikini top, but perhaps being so long without, it satisfied Little Gille. Just as well as I shut down the show pretty quick. This wasn't Burlesque, after all... "Now, Dillon!" He chuckled hoarsely. His hand awkwardly grasped my proffered pen as I held the pad for him, his chicken scratch barely legible. But somehow he managed, and after many plodding minutes I had his testimony. I leaned forward to take his trembling fingers in support, receiving a surprise as Dillon copped a serious feel through my still undone top. What he lacked in strength, the pervert more than made up for in intent, eliciting a gasp as he tweaked my nipple... "What the hell is going on here?" I gently removed his hand from inside my shirt, even as the duty nurse scowled darkly at us. Well, at me specifically as Dillon affected an innocent look. Not too shabby for a man in his delicate condition, but he was ready to be the patient again. The matronly guardian rudely pressed past me to check his elevated vitals, taking a second to notice my hard tips through the dainty fabric. "You could've given this poor man a coronary, young lady!" she chastised me, that stern look telling me I'd overstayed my welcome. "What were you thinking?" "Just returning a favor, for a favor," I murmured self consciously, stumbling to my feet."A Tit for a Tat, I suppose." "Well, take your Tit out of here before I call Security," she commanded with not a little venom. "I would suggest you put yourself back together. And don't think of disrupting our routine like that again." This was wonderful, another blemish to Karen's otherwise honest reputation. My track record thus far revealed a exhibitionist's streak on top of my other enticing traits... Even as I straighten out my slightly rumpled clothes, my psychic shadow appeared amused by this state of undress. I think I understood what she meant. Who really knew a person in all their facets? Perhaps my own limited experiences thus far weren't missteps after all? I imagined Karen to be grinning wickedly as I did up my collar button, and I followed suit. The nurse frowned while Dillon gave me a friendly wink... the bastard. He was yet one more link to that other life, but only so long as Kolchak remained. That was the whole point of this exercise, wasn't it? It was painful, this shedding of old habits and even older acquaintances. Of course that didn't mean I would allow yet another casualty from my own foolishness. In the midst of such maudlin hindsight, there was a good omen, fleeting as it was. My savior in training had finally gotten my rather tersely worded message. "Hey there, Mon femme." His teasing voice almost made everything better. The Professor was inquisitive yet somewhat hurried."You sounded anxious on my machine?" "Somewhat," I admitted huffily. "But there's a bit of unpleasant housekeeping which this damsel finds distressing. It doesn't help that you go running off on some scholastic shindig without letting me know..." "And when did we get hitched?" he laughed, the merry ridicule there as always. "You're a big girl... thank the Gods. So I don't think I need to hold your hand, 24/7. Let's just say that my little sabbatical is more than Naked Nymphs Dancing Beneath Diana's Light..." "OK. OK." I couldn't stay pissed at him, no matter the circumstances. "I guess the Honeymoon is over." "Without the fun parts," the Professor amended gently, a suggestion of concern behind the largely sardonic tone. "But we'll negotiate that when you get back. In the meantime, what can a humble acolyte of the old faith do for his sexy muse?" "We'll talk about that later." My chastisement was undercut by the tremendous relief I felt inside. My companion spirit also seemed to share my confused delight as I explained everything to The Professor. To his credit he listened without comment... at least until I sighed deeply at the end. "Have you ever read Kipling?" That was a rather weird thing to say. "What? You mean the writer? The Jungle Book? That Kipling?" I blurted out. "Yep." His damnable self-satisfied tone returned, which annoyed me to no end. "There's another story of his. The Mark of The Beast. You'd find it very interesting. Of course, what with the cops searching for Carl, and this Korean curse, the Timing couldn't be worse for a bedtime story..." "Sure, I agree." I was ready to reach through the phone and strangle the man. "But what are we gonna do about this?" "I'm not familiar enough with this mythos to advise," he confessed. "I do know some folks I could ask, but it'll take some time..." "Oh sure. I'll knit a sweater while you talk with your friends," I snapped, wondering again just who this man really was. "Maybe I could just hold my breath while I wait? It's not as spectacular as an airbag malfunction, or being trapped in a dirt collapse while digging a trench outside your home. Definitely not as grisly as having your chest caved in by a pneumatic jack but hey..." "I'll put a rush on it then," the Professor assured me, a voice in the background speaking to him in low feminine tones. "Look, Karen. Keep your phone handy. I promise I'll do the best I can with this. In the meantime I have an idea that you're not in immediate danger. Don't ask how I know, it's just a hunch." And what about Gilles?" "No guarantees, kiddo," he responded quickly, pausing for a second to exchange a few choice words with this unseen female."Just stay cool and keep your head down. I Love You, and I'll talk to you soon." Now that was something unexpected, as was the thrill I felt when he said it. It wasn't like anything I had with William, the few times we got together since July. Perhaps he'd been Mr. Right Then after all? There'd been a tremendous gulf in our experiences and education, which Lust alone couldn't erase. But what of my scholarly mentor? He got under my skin with little to no effort, challenged my assumptions at every turn, undermined my feminine sensibilities even as he celebrated them with me. Any girl would feel some gratitude, perhaps even give him a roll in the hay, just to say Thanks. But while now wasn't exactly the right time; to determine the nature of our friendship, it eased much of my worries to think of him in my corner. In the meanwhile, I had Dillon's account of that night to go over; find out exactly where all this vengeance was coming from. But still there was a question which I wasn't sure could be answered. Why now? There were a few messages for me at the hotel; it never rained but it poured, one from Jacob and one from Naomi. They both wanted to know what I was up to, though for the petite Mrs. Kane, she hoped to do Lunch with me. What was on Jacob's mind? I couldn't begin to guess... It was actually with some regret that I skipped out on both, though I did offer a girls night for the latter as consolation. With everything else, and despite The Professor's rather oblique reassurances, I felt Time closing in all the same. So it was that I stripped down to my beige Teddy, put on my robe and ordered some room service, then got to work. As I said before, it was weird territory. I was the observer rather than participant now, even as Kolchak recalled the humid sub-tropic night, the narrow backstreet flanked by shanty style houses of ply wood and thatch, the incongruity of a polished stone temple... The coarse pigeon scratch account of Dillon's shame is scarcely Grand Narration, so I substitute my own words to tell his story. That being said, some of the conclusions were pure conjecture on my part. * Corporal Gilles glanced over his shoulder at the mob scene behind him. Those tiny women who circled his buddies like squawking crows, blocking the Joes from their charges, most of whom had retreated to just outside the temple doorway. Each girl had her particular charms, he was sure, but Dillon was on his own scout, searching the antechamber while stern bronze statuary watched him. He was about to give up, cursing Bronx Bobby every way from Sunday. He'd trusted that Garlic Eater and paid him good money for this address. As the GI turned, a soft footfall caught his ear and he smiled... How'd Gilles manage to do what none of the rest of us could? Several chance encounters in a crowded market place, that good girls' shaded smile at the man in uniform, his own awkward attempt to engage. Short whispered conversations afterwards, before her escort found them out. But as was said, Bobby had worked with far less... As sketchy as the details were, we could guess that Chu Li was already eager to flee her fate before she'd seen Dillon. Removed from her family as a child, raised to be honored but never loved, this wasn't the life she ultimately wanted for herself. This handsome soldier, this American, could rescue her from servitude to The Gods. Was Dillon that pure? Her knight protector? The restored romantic in me wished it was true, though Kolchak sorta suspected he just wanted some tail. Still, in his own way, Dillon was honorable... Just five minutes to do the deed, their wild passion set against the base of a virgin goddess. He'd promised he'd come for her, take her back to the States with him. She clung tight in the afterglow, believing everything this soldier told her, but Fate was not to be that kind to either of them... We were shipped back into the field almost immediately after that night, but Dillon swore that he tried to find her later on. He discovered, much too late, that Chu had been exiled from the Order, for what offense they wouldn't say. He wasn't able to search the whole city; not for a girl banished to the streets, but it was in the back of his mind to return as soon as things settled down. As you could guess, once back home he was distracted by the process of readjusting to civilian life. Though he claimed that Chu was never far from his thoughts, I think that Dillon turned to a local girl with some relief, deciding the one time infatuation was simply that... One Time. * September 24th, 2005 Just five minutes, you may ask? It took far less time to destroy a Japanese city, or to kill a US President. But this wasn't the A-Bomb or some Lone Gunman. The aftermath for a single indiscretion was decades in coming, with no reason that I could discern at this time. Once again, even with Dillon's testimony, it couldn't answer the over-all question, 'Why Now?' Early in the morning I called up the VA center and Corporal Tyler answered, rather surprised to hear from me again. At my odd inquiry, she found the number for the Korean Cultural Center, not that convinced I could do much with only a name. But as with Bronx Bobby, I'd often had even less to work with than he. It was not made any easier, though they were quite accommodating, that at first the clerk thought I was talking about a child. Eventually though, I was able to make clear this was for an interested third party. I gave the name of Chu Li, the district where the temple resided, wondering if this wasn't yet another blind alley. It was almost an afterthought that I called The Professor only to get his service once again. It was getting annoying, this eccentric merry- go-round of a sponsorship with my odd Academic. For one still struggling with the nuances of this gender-bent reincarnation, I needed all the help I could get. With one door shut, almost as quickly as it'd reopened, I revisited an earlier impulse and phoned Home. "Karen?" the instant I heard Gale's calm voice at the other end, I felt girlish relief, along with all the regrets of an old mans life; tragically misspent. There was a spilt second which followed where I almost hung up on her... almost. "Hey, Mom." "Honey? You OK, Darling Daughter?" "Uh, I'm in Chicago," I told her, letting slip a weary tone which Mother, good parent that she was, caught immediately. "Evidently there was some fall-out from June, so I got called back to aid in an inquiry from Kolchak's old boss." "Just that?" she asked with such penetrating skepticism it actually made me smile. "Well, The Chicago Police have some questions too. It's a bit of a mess right now," I added sheepishly. "Honestly though, it's no big deal, mom. It's just a matter of Book Keeping." "Which was what Hannah Speckler, a friend of Carl and Mine from Vegas, once said," Gale chided with an anxious turn to her once level voice. "Before her Bookie tried to break her legs." "Well, she shouldn't have placed that long-shot bet on"Opal's Hat Trick," I murmured carelessly, without any real consideration to what I was saying. "Not with Lenny Sharp, in any case." "What?" Her gasp woke me up like a violent slap to the face. "Did Carl tell you... ? That wasn't one of our better moments, hon. It's definitely not something which either of us would've spread around." "Well, maybe it just came out in passing," I temporized quickly, seeing what of my scattered wits I could gather together. "Carl was pretty old, so..." "I can't ever imagine him being that old," chastised Mom roughly, thinking better of it as she added. "But even so, you're not that good, young lady. Not yet, anyway. It took me months of considerable coaxing to get at even mundane tidbits of his past." "Well, it's water over the dam, in any case," I answered with forced nonchalance, thinking that it'd be easier to just tell the truth. But better for who? "Honestly, Mom. I'm sorry I called. No, strike that, Not Sorry. I just needed someone to vent at and..." "You don't ever have to apologize for that, Daughter of Mine," she proclaimed confidently. "You know you can tell me everything. Do you need anything? Your father and I could be there in a flash if you need us..." "I love you, Ga - Mom." The purity of her support never failed to bring me near to tears, but this matter was for Kolchak and I to solve. "Just you saying that is enough. It'll be fine. Let me go take care of this, and I'll come see you guys once it's over, OK?" "I know you'll be fine, darling girl," she gushed with such certainty, I wanted to reach through the phone and hug her. "You always were. Love from the both of us." I signed off with a dizzy sorta relief, reflecting on how similar this feeling was to another conversation. The one with The Professor? Almost as if on cue, my phone rang and I rushed to answer, expecting his mischievous voice on the other end. But the thrill I felt turned instantly to trepidation when Detective Jones came on the line, requesting my presence down at the station. "We're still having some difficulties with the story you gave us, Karen," Marcus told me, after plying me with coffee. He sounded contrite as he said it. "It comes down to where you and Kolchak lost each other? That covers a span of what? Minutes?" "A lot can happen in that amount of time," I softly challenged him, interested in the conflict behind that interrogators gaze. "You know that as well as I do, Marcus." "I'd like to believe you've been truthful about everything," the young officer tried again, fumbling for a strict voice toward this rather bemused reporter. "Why are you smiling? This is a serious interview." "And you're doing a great job... really," I chuckled, feeling unexpectedly kind toward him. "But I have two questions before we continue. 'Where's Lauren? Detective Draper, I mean. And, at any point in this, am I a suspect?'" Now Marcus grinned wickedly, nodding with much aplomb as he sat down heavily in the chair opposite me. That appreciative look I saw at the shop was back, and we both smirked like goofball children. "It'd make everything easier if you were," he confessed. "But your reputation precedes you, and there's nothing to suggest a prior connection between you and Kolchak. "No, I think it's partly that we're in the process of tearing down that mystery wall, literally, and mostly just to touch base with you again." "That's sweet, Marcus," I responded with a straight face."But Detective Draper believes? Is that where she is? Doing a little redecorating?" "It might be that she does," he explained. "Well, that and the hint of methane our forensics crew found at the scene. Lauren is a woman of her word, after all. Did you want to be there when we break through? I could take you..." "Why not?" I gushed, imagining that while the other issue wouldn't wait for long, it'd still take time for anyone to get back to me. "If you'll let me do the driving." Our arrival at the rather hectic scene was noted by the senior detective with a familiar shake of her head. Kolchak had been there far too many time before, not to recognize That Look. Still, she merely nodded to the pair of us as the destruction team gingerly worked to take down my wall. "There's definitely something dead back there," Lauren explained, almost shouting to be heard above the din. Where Karen and I... Strike that. Where I'd simply walked through before, the CSI guys now attacked the barrier with small jackhammers and handsaws. I nearly grinned at this incongruity, but decided against it. "A trapped animal?" Marcus speculated, glancing over at my casual demeanor. "One would hope so," his superior countered dryly just before a high pitched whine from the equipment signaled Breakthrough. With slow deliberation, the crew took their time in cutting the right sized hole for access, as not to destroy any evidence they might find. But what was eventually revealed to the light of day... well... there wasn't a lot left to damage. "Kolchak?" I whispered, oddly reverent toward this rotting body, though with the amount of decay, it was hard to tell who I was looking at. The only recognizable object was a familiar battered hat, and I realized who exactly was behind this morbid gag... "We'll have the pathology report within a day," Detective Draper assured me, after several hours of intense questioning back at the precinct house. The temple had been in shambles, as part of the game, I was sure, the wall to wall monitors wearing shattered faces. The once ornate hangings had lost their shimmer, only torn rags remained to greet our unwelcome intrusion. "I'm as much in the dark as you," I responded honestly. I was thinking that perhaps The Gods were far from subtle with their misdirection. It almost smacked of a conspiracy which didn't help my case. "If this is Carl, we have what? A Sealed Room Mystery?" "Well," Lauren considered, "I'm no Patricia Cromwell, but since you and Kolchak entered at some point, it could scarcely be a 'Locked Room.' mystery, now could it? At least this is what you said, yes?" "Let's just say that access was somewhat oblique." I chuckled with grave humor. "But technically, you're correct. So where does this leave us?" "It means that we want to be sure this is Kolchak," she responded carefully. "We want to see if there's other DNA evidence, fibers, etc. But in the meantime, Karen..." "Don't leave town," I finished, not that concerned... yet. "On that account, I think I can guarantee I'll be around." I'd been feeling somewhat like a yo-yo at this point, getting pulled back repeatedly every time I felt free from the old man. Evidently my inner sibling felt the same as she slyly reminded me of something Kolchak had said "Karen, we are One Foolish Girl, for sure," I chortled to myself. "We just keep stepping in it, don't we?" On that we were in agreement as I unlocked our room, flopping at once on the bed with weary resignation. But with the way the day had been going thus far, a repetitious buzz interrupted my halfhearted attempt at rest. Unlike before, the caller was actually someone I wanted to see... "I'm so glad you suggested this, Karen," gushed Naomi as we shared cocktails in the early evening. "Especially since Jacob has been going on a tear about Kolchak's disappearance. It's not like him." "Don't I know it," I amended lightly before, as with Gale, I found the petite woman gazing at me with some incredulity. "I mean, from what I've seen of him..." "I'm sure," she chuckled, though still a little thrown by my flippant remark. "In any case, the police called him this afternoon. They wanted to know your whereabouts for the day..." "I'm sure." I echoed back as my girlish guffaw interrupted some of our fellow drunks."It's nice to feel wanted by so many." "Are you? Wanted, I mean," Naomi asked, taken with this rather sardonic response to a criminal investigation. I was truly touched by the concern, patting her hand with maternal sympathy. "Not really, though I'm not sure how long that's gonna last. Once Lauren ID's the corpse..." "There's a body now?" she squeaked, loud enough to turn every head in the place. I waved my hand dismissively before giving her the hairy eyeball. She caught it quick enough, much calmer now as Naomi concluded."That explains a lot, thanks." I wasn't sure it would. Explain anything, that is. The Gods forgery, for it to work, had to reflect Cause & Affect to serve as a suitable facsimile. Anything less left too much hanging, and perhaps me hanging out to dry. In the meanwhile, from what my girlfriend was saying, I couldn't be sure just where Jacob fit in all of this. It was just past the witching hour when Naomi escorted me back to the hotel, giving me a discrete peck on the cheek. "Well, a girls night out with you is never boring." "I guess I should've warned you about that." I laughed, ever consoling toward the collateral damage to the psyche of anyone in my vicinity. At least, in this case, she would live to tell the tale; unlike some others. "But thank you for the company, all the same." "We'll do it again soon," she countered with clear irony. Apparently some of Kolchak's old traits were rubbing off on her. Perhaps Karens as well, as my sister in spirit reminded me. For someone once barely there, a scant few months ago, she'd been getting quite vocal lately. In such current murky circumstances, this fact was actually the best news I'd gotten in quite awhile. OK, second best. September 25th, 2005 Early morning I got a call from Marcus, but it was just to tell me that nothing definitive had come from the autopsy thus far. While the jury was out, he offered breakfast which I politely declined. Yet another notch for Karen's lipstick case, but it was too much on one plate for this girl. Besides, there was The Professor to consider. He still hadn't gotten back to me, likely distracted by that tramp I'd heard on the line and... was this jealousy I was feeling? For some reason I couldn't yet fathom, it fascinated me, as an emotion I'd never really felt before. This whole Chick Feelings thing, it never got old. But I couldn't wait for him, in any case, nimbly redialing the Center to see what, if any information they might have. Not too surprisingly, rather than a nibble, I'd gotten a big honkin bite! "I talked to a relation," the clerk explained with some disbelief evident. "She had a Gran who knew someone important from The Order. Evidently they kept very good records. Back a hundred years or more, in fact. I think we may have found your Chu Li..." 'Evident' was an understatement, so far as coincidence and circumstance was concerned. Someone upstairs must have been working overtime. But I had no way to discover exactly how the strings were pulled, only that for once they seemed to be in my favor. This girl; for the present, was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I hadn't gotten word from either the detectives or my sponsor, but I was too busy to make comment on this. I asked one more favor from the beleaguered girl before hanging up. Now I had an additional task to perform, and it was the most dangerous thus far; putting two lives at risk on a slim hunch. It was nearly eleven that night when I burst into the room of Dillon Gilles, ignoring the protests of the nurse on duty as he gave me the once over with half alert eyes. "Congratulations, old buddy," I enthused. "I may have found your Out." "Really, ma'am," huffed my old adversary through clenched teeth. She became even more confused as my backup finally caught up with me. He was a young Korean monk whose serene disposition offset my more fatalistic manner. "You've disturbed this patient enough with your wicked behavior. I need to ask you to leave before... excuse me? What is that man doing? Is that incense?" He'd lit several Thai Sticks on either side of Gilles head, pausing briefly to check the aura before turning to me. "You were right, miss. He is in need of a priest." "A priest?" echoed the nurse flatly, clearly out of her element as I took Dillons hand in support. "I don't understand. Is this some kind of 'Last Rites?'" "It might well be," I answered with Kolchak's usual brand of 'Gallows Humor.' "If we don't appease what's coming down that Hall." She scarcely made ready with the obvious question before it became self explanatory, low burning smoky embers wafting wildly in the presence of the Thing. It was a shadow of a shadow, faintly feminine in outline, not unlike a phantom from one of those Asian import films. It/She had a set of blazing coals for eyes, glaring with corrosive intent at Dillon Gilles. My monk, at this time, began a chant which distracted this ghastly assassin long enough so I could make myself heard. "Who .. Or what you are. This is the man you've been seeking - Can she understand me?" I demanded of the priest, about halfway through my speech. He spoke some words in Korean before nodding that I should continue. "His name is Dillon Gilles, lover of Chu Li. It was his fault that she turned from your worship, but not that she died." My bedridden comrade in arm gave a start at this news, and I could only hope he had the good sense to keep quiet. I saw that I had the specters full attention...at least for the moment. "She died delivering his child, a girl. She caught an infection which filled her lungs with fluid, suffocating her before the antibiotics could do their job. But you knew that." It was the end result of the deaths which clued me in, though not the full reason behind them. And here was the chief perpetrator, his good health dependent upon a single Oxygen tank... with an ignition source thoughtfully set up nearby... "But perhaps there was something you didn't know?" I challenged her, this demonic avenger. "The child still lives. She's here in this country, in San Francisco. Gilles is her Father. Would you kill off her only parent?" The creature seemed less impressed by my petition than the sheer audacity of a mortal defying her. I figured that now was the moment to play my remaining card... "And you've killed all the others, yes? All six?" Now I was working with a multitude of possibilities, from what my hastily recruited companion could tell me. So many deities to choose from, only a few hours to decide who I'd be dealing with. But even narrowing it down to a handful... well... none of them could be relied upon entirely... But perhaps I understood something which this she-bitch took for granted. "This whole vendetta, it was set off by some recent change, a paradox which opened a door otherwise closed to you. That's why you needed to establish a line, isn't it? It was our common bond, wasn't it? both in combat and that night in Seoul. Still, you needed all of us to die before you could reach Dillon." The vague suggestion of a demonic smile was all the confirmation I needed. With a self satisfied smirk of my own, I set the trap."Kolchak was the last, the police having just now found his remains, walled up inside an airtight room? Likely he suffocated, just like your victims before him?" Again she seemed content with my conclusion, that terrible resolve deepening as a sputter from a clogged line let me know she was through listening. With little time left; I pulled the pin. "But Kolchak isn't dead, you see," I intoned solemnly, watching carefully for the blink even as I continued. "We have a body, but not its soul." Gilles air hose cleared temporarily, and yet I knew I had to make the point quickly. If any of us were to survive her wrath, that is. "That's because it wasn't with him when he passed on. Where could it have gone, I wonder?" The dark enveloped me, if only to peer through my eyes at what resided within. I smiled grimly as I knew where the paradox lay. "That's right! He's inside this woman's body, and she's an innocent, outside your jurisdiction. She had no part in this, so would you overturn all providence for your pound of flesh?" Even in her unanticipated impotency, the demon still pressed against this invisible force field which surrounded Karen Klein. But while even a small part of her shared this mortal shell with me, we were in no direct danger. As a casualty of some collateral damage, however, I wasn't that sure... My monk began the exorcism rite, bit by bit calling our adversary back to what parallel dimension she'd erupted from. The atmosphere around us thickened; though we felt the end was nigh, conjured as a last hurrah, that final display of defiance before the bellowing vapors