At breakfast Thursday, Ty again suggested that he return to his quarters, this time as much out of embarassment from awakening the household in the night as a need to take care of himself. Again both Mai and Glenn insisted that he should stay with them, at least until he could move more easily. The kids had only a vague idea of what had gone on the previous evening, their father had explained that Ty had been caught by some bigots, but they too added their voices to their parents. Bowing to their collective will, Ty tried to eat the breakfast that Glenn had prepared for them, then went back to bed.

Thursday was spent mostly sleeping, recovering from the trauma of the evening before, his body cleansing itself from the affects of the combined drugs. More than once, he awakened himself from the drugged sleep, crying out with pain, shame. By the time the kids were home from school, he had given up on sleep. Glenn drove him back to his quarters, where he picked up his uniform and his own vehicle.

Giving in to Glenn's insistence, Ty went to the ER and had his rib X-rayed. It turned out to only be cracked, but that was enough for the Ross household to insist that he stay with them. Glenn watched with some amusement as the rest of the household took to treating Ty as a dear, if a somewhat fragile guest. Miri took it upon herself to be at his beck and call for the evening, fetching hot or cold drinks, pillows, stools, afghans to keep him warm. Spider had clearly decided to keep Ty from getting bored by offering card games, computer games, or whatever, to entertain him.

Thursday night, Ty awakened the household again with his cries in the night. This time, Glenn watched as Ty pulled on the dark sweat pants and shirt he had retrieved from his quarters.

"I can't stay in this room right now. I'll be back in a while."

Glenn stood by the door, as Ty picked up the keys on the dresser. "At least let me come with you."

"No, look I'm no fit company right now. Damn it, Glenn, I can take care of myself. I just need to work this thing out in my head." He snatched up the keys, and headed out into the chilled night.

The shadowy figure detached itself from the corner of the cellar. Mr Hill had just entered, descending the stairs slowly. The shadow watched the pimp make a circuit of the room, gently brushing the blankets on the bed in the corner, fingering the manacles still hanging from the exposed pipe. Moving into the light, the shadow caught Hill's attention.

"I knew you'd be here. You just can't get enough of me, can you?"

The shadow stood in front of him now, "You shouldn't have said that thing about the indentures. When a man serves his indentures, he's free. He shouldn't have to be looking over his shoulder for predators like you."

Hill let out a sharp bark of laughter , "No one's free in this world, lamb. And its predator or prey. You should have learned that out by now."

"No. I'm learning that even tanks have friends. But you, you just can't let go." He moved towards Hill. Unexpectedly his fist lashed out, catching Hill on the chin. As the hood crumpled, the shadow struck him in the chest with the flat of his foot. Hill fell to the floor, gasping. Grabbing him by the chin and the back of his head, the shadow twisted sharply. Hill slumped, falling to the ground. The shadow bent over him, applying two fingers to his carotid pulse point. Nodding, satisfied, the shadow mounted the stairs, turning out the light on his way out.

The sun had already begun to lighten the sky when Ty pulled up in front of the house. He noted that Glenn's car was missing from the drive, assumed that Spider had taken it to school, since Glenn was still on leave as well. He entered the house as quietly as possible, going up the stairs and into the room that he was sleeping in. Just removing his sweat shirt, he turned to see a fully clothed Glenn standing in the doorway.

"God damn it, Ty. Where the Hell have you been?"

McQueen shrugged, "Nowhere, everywhere. Just driving."

"I went out looking for you two hours ago." Glenn moved into the room, leaning against the door jamb. "You do know that any InVitro picked up after curfew would be assumed to be an indentured on the run?"

"Yeah." Nodding, Ty slipped the undershirt off over his head, and gave Glenn a bitter little smile. "I didn't even have my ID with me. Stupid."

"'Stupid'? Monumentally colossally dumb. I even went down to the Drunk Tank to see if you decided to try to find Hill on your own."

In the act of turning the bed down, McQueen stopped, "Now why would I do that?"

"The same reason I would, to kill the motherfucker." Glenn's righteous indignation almost got the better of him.

Ty shook his head, "He probably did fuck her, too, given half a chance."

By midafternoon on Friday, Ty had had enough pampering, and actually welcomed the call from Colonel Hernandez, asking him to report to base as soon as possible. If the colonel's always brusque tones were a little more strained than usual, Ty put it down to her missing his assistance with the day to day running of the Angels. He found himself enjoying putting his uniform on again for the first time since Thanksgiving. He laced up the boots that he had picked up at his quarters, wincing only slightly at the pain in his side. Pulling the laces tight, tying them off, he stood. His beret lay on the bed. He picked it up and went down the stairs. Glenn waited for him in the living room. Over Ty's protests, Glenn insisted that he, too, needed to check on some things on base, so he, too, was in uniform. Mai stood in the hallway, watching the two of them.

"My, there certainly is something about a man in uniform." She stepped up to Glenn, straightening his button line, brushing the imaginary lint off his shoulders. "You boys be nice now." She turned to Ty, performing the same service for him. "I do expect you both for dinner. You may *not* try to talk Glenn into leaving you at your apartment." She reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek, then kissed her husband.

At the HQ of the Angry Angels, Glenn came in with him, ostensibly just to say hello to his old friend, Colonel Hernandez. The Colonel's secretary looked up as they came in. Ty did not expect a smile, the secretary was a 50 year old civilian spinster who, as near as he had figured, never smiled at anyone. This time, though, she seemed especially tense. She nodded her head at him,

"Colonel Hernandez is waiting for you, Captain. They're waiting for you in Division Conference room."

Ross smiled his winning smile, "I'm with him." And walked on as if he had business too.

In the conference room, there were, indeed, a number of people waiting; two civilians, a man and a woman that McQueen pegged immediately as law enforcement, as well as a Navy officer with JAG insignia on her collar. The young Ensign James that McQueen had met previously was there as well. When they entered the room, the junior officers stood. Colonel Hernandez was seated at the end of the table.

"As you were, Captain McQueen. These gentlepersons," she gestured in the direction of the two civilians, "wish to speak to you concerning a legal problem off base. These are Sergeants Plummer and Gaines, of the Mobile Law Enforcement Division." As their names were spoken, each lifted a hand. The woman was Plummer, the man, Gaines. Both appeared in their late 30's and thoroughly bored. "Please be seated, gentlemen." Ross and McQueen sat down in two of the empty chairs, on the opposite side of the table from the enforcement officers.

The female enforcer, apparently the senior of the two, pulled out a small computer notebook. "Captain McQueen, we understand that you are an associate of a procurer by the name of Gavin Hill."

McQueen turned his head towards her, "What is this about?"

The JAG officer cleared her throat, "Captain McQueen, in spite of the imprecise status of IVs under the law, you are fully covered under the Civil Liberties Act, and do not need to answer any of these officers' questions."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I've been through the petitioning process and am a citizen of the United States in good standing. However," He turned back to the civilian enforcers, "I will certainly do what I can to cooperate with these peoples' investigations."

The male, Sergeant Gaines, leaned forward, catching McQueen's eye, "Look Captain, we don't want to bust your chops over some petty drug dealings. We understand that you have taken the initiative to get yourself clean." He started out calmly, politely even, then his frustration vented itself, "We're just trying to solve a murder case. Now, do you know Gavin Hill?"

McQueen glanced at the JAG officer. "It is unlikely that these officers could prosecute you on any drug charges, Captain. Unless you were stupid enough to keep a stash in your quarters. Even then, it would be us that would prosecute." She shot a look at the civilians, "Even in Alabama."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." He turned back to the civilians. "Yes, I've met Gavin Hill. I didn't know his first name. What is this all about?"

Plummer looked up from her notes, "Hill was found dead this morning in a basement downtown."

Ross and McQueen exchanged glances, Ross quirked a brief smile. Leaning close to McQueen, he whispered. "And there was much rejoicing."

Gaines noted the looks, heard the comment. He demanded McQueen's attention, "When did you last see Mr Hill?"

"Wednesday evening. He expressed his ...disappointment that I would not be his customer any more."

Gaines stood, walking around the table to lean over McQueen. Ross thought he noted a flicker of disappointment at McQueen's lack of reaction to this. "Captain McQueen, we have witnesses who state that Mr Hill and you had a business arrangement involving trading sex for drugs."

Ross spoke out at that, anger loosening his discretion, "The son of a bitch kidnapped Captain McQueen. When he refused to have sex with him, he tied him up and raped him."

"So." Gaines smiled, "Would you say that Captain McQueen has a motive for killing Mr Hill?" He stepped away from McQueen and returned to sit down.

Seeing that he had stepped into the trap laid for McQueen, Ross leaned back, giving a silent apology to McQueen with his eyes. "Captain McQueen wouldn't murder anybody."

Sergeant Gaines grinned at Ross, "You seem pretty defensive of Captain McQueen. Maybe he refused Hill 'cause he was getting what he needed from you."

The colonel stood up suddenly, "Sergeant Gaines, you and Sergeant Plummer are here on my sufferance. Now hear this, CFB: Commander Ross and Captain McQueen are both respected officers in the United States Armed Forces. You will either treat them and this office with respect, or you may excuse yourselves and come back when you've got enough evidence for an indictment. Do you understand me?" Neither of the enforcement officers had apparently had the pleasure of listening to a Marine drill sergeant before, so they were suitably impressed by the colonel's tones. The military people in the room exchanged smiles of sympathy.

Both enforcement officers did understand the colonel. Sergeant Gaines leaned back in his chair, amazed at the intensity that could come from the small iron-haired woman. He seemed slightly intimidated, so Plummer took over the questioning, "Captain McQueen, can you tell us where you were Thursday evening and Friday morning?"

"I was at Commander Ross' house. We were on leave."

"Yeah? How did it happen that you and Commander Ross were on leave at the same time." While Gaines used polite words, his tone still insinuated, the intimidation had not lasted long enough to suit McQueen or Ross.

"If you read my records, then you know he went with me to the rehab center. After my...encounter with Hill Wednesday evening, Commander Ross and his wife invited me to spend the rest of my leave with them."

Plummer interjected, "So, Commander Ross, you can testify where the Captain was between, say midnight and 8:00am?"

"Well, I don't do bed checks at home, but he went to bed before the rest of us, and had breakfast with the family." He glanced at McQueen and noted the raised an eyebrow, shrugging in response. Gaines noted this second exchange and grimaced. Plummer also saw, and snapped shut the computer on the table in front of her.

"I think that's about all we need for now, Captain, Colonel. We'll be in touch."

Colonel Hernandez also stood, starting a chain reaction among the military personel in the room. "Captain McQueen, Commander Ross, would the two of you please accompany our guests? Lieutenant, Ensign, would the two of you please stay, I want a word with you."

The enforcement officers left the room, followed by McQueen and Ross. On the steps outside of the HQ, the two military men stopped. Gaines and Plummer turned to face them. Plummer squinted against the afternoon sun,

"Just for the record, Captain, we know damn good and well that you were in the vicinity of the murder scene this morning, around 1:00am. That gives us motive, opportunity, and weapon. Hill was killed by someone who had training in hand to hand combat, his neck was broken."

Leaning against the wooden railing, McQueen folded his arms across his chest. "Your witness is another tank, right? So my witness may be lying, but he's a natural born. So, who's more credible?"

Gaines smiled, "You have a good grasp of the jury system. But if you're guilty, we'll get you."

Ross stood on the other side of the landing, "Why do you want Captain McQueen to be guilty, Sergeant? Has it occurred to you that he might be innocent?"

"Occurred to me..." Sergeant Gaines paused, "Yeah, to tell you the truth, it'd even be refreshing if he was." Gaines looked McQueen in the face, "Hey, I was in the IV rights movement in college in '50. I marched, got arrested. I wanted, no...want to believe that IVs are the same as the rest of us. Then I hit the streets as a cop. The IVs I've run into seem to have all read that 'Human Rights' group's pamphlets and decided to live out every thing those guys ever spouted...shiftless, lacking initiative, caring about no one, nothing, including themselves." He smiled grimly, "So I tell myself that its not genetic, not inherent. It's a fault of the way the IVs are socialized. Now I meet you, and you seem to prove that an IV can make it. I read your jacket, a genuine war hero. If it weren't for that incident during your enlistment, you'd be a major right now, or maybe even a light colonel. But there was that incident, and then the drugs, and now the rough sex thing." He held up a hand as his partner started to interrupt, "I know, I know, the UN Bill of Rights guarantees freedom of sexual expression as long as all parties are willing. But what is it with these tanks that they all like to get beat up? I just don't get the masochism thing, and it seems like its every damn one of them."

McQueen stood erect, hands dropping to his sides, "Maybe its our 'upbringing'." He turned on his heel, walking back into the HQ, leaving Ross with the detectives.

After a few minutes, Ross showed up in the doorway of McQueen's office. He moved into the office, shutting the door firmly behind himself. McQueen was standing behind his desk, face to the maps at the back wall.

"I filled them in about what went on between you and Hill on Wednesday."

McQueen turned around, sitting down in his chair, "You lied for me."

Ross came in and pulled up a chair, "No I didn't." He looked up and smiled. "I just didn't tell the whole truth.

"They believed me about Wednesday."

McQueen shook his head, "With all due respect, Glenn, you don't know about 'Wednesday'. And neither do they." Ross saw the rage, the self-hatred usually so carefully held in check, lurking behind the ice-blue eyes. McQueen pushed his chair back, his usual sinuous movements made jerky by his emotions. He stood and walked to the door, making sure it was shut tightly, then paced a circuit of the room. "Damn nice of him to agree that the tanks'...our...weaknesses aren't inherent, wasn't it? Just our 'unhappy childhoods.' If I believed in God, I'd say God damn you all."

Ross watched his friend move around the room, "No you wouldn't."

Smiling wryly, McQueen returned to his chair and sat back down. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, "Probably not, but I do get fucking tired of the whole thing sometimes." His eyes opened, "You did lie for me. For all you know, I did kill the son of a bitch."

"Yeah, that's true. Did you?"

"Would it make any difference if I did?"

"I don't know." Ross steepled his fingers, "Maybe. I don't like to think of you as a killer. But, if anyone needed killing, it was that son of a bitch."

McQueen shook his head, "I really don't understand you. Why do you keep doing this shit? Why do you keep bailing me out?" He leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes again.

Ross took the opportunity to observe this prickly man. McQueen had done everything he could to turn Ross aside, from refusing to answer his messages, to beating up his brother in law. Ross smiled to himself at that, if Ty were a better judge of character, he'd have known that Glenn was ready to give him a medal for that one. What did Ty expect him to do now? Turn him over to the enforcers? It seemed to Glenn that Ty had practically confessed to killing Hill, but that just didn't fit. Not that he didn't believe Ty capable of killing, just not murdering. He shook his head and spoke softly, "That's what friends are for, Ty. It's about time you got used to it."

McQueen sat up in the chair, his blue eyes open. A smile softened the usually sharp edges. "Yeah, I guess I could get used to it."

Ross saw the smile and treasured it, knowing just how rare a gift this was.

The End

Rebecca Morris
© 1996


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