Episode 10: An Unforgettable Night

The Pink Paradise Saloon wasn't your normal bar. Hell, everyone in four counties knew it wasn't a bar, even the local police. So why didn't they call it what it was?

Plain and simple, it was a strip joint.

The only difference was that this strip joint didn't come with flash. It didn't have the gaudy neon signs or the crude "come hither" lettering plastered around the doorway advertising that sex and sin were located inside. Just because it didn't come with flash didn't mean it wasn't popular.

Jonah Sogard knew firsthand precisely how popular it was. And he had various women's fingerprints all over his body to prove it.

He was what they called in the XXX industry as a "headliner." It had taken a while to work his way up to this particular establishment. He'd had to sweat and toil in half a dozen clubs before Pinky from the Pink Paradise would even give him a second look.

He hoped this mission was worth all the trouble. The working conditions weren't exactly what he'd call prime. Being forced to interact and watch half-naked, big breasted women wasn't work. That part he enjoyed. When it was his turn on stage, that was when his own personal pity party began. He hated gyrating and twirling for a greedy throng of screaming women. He thought, at first, it might pump up his male ego to have so many women lusting after him, but when he went home at night, he couldn't shower long enough to erase the memories. The women groped and touched and shoved money down his pants. It wasn't something he wanted to to linger on when he went home each night.

So when Kevin Fairchild had asked him to watch over his sister, Faith, Jonah couldn't say no. Hell, he'd practically forgotten about the damn stripping job. That was how effective he was at pushing it out of his mind. He couldn't tell Fairchild about his current case, though. It wasn't that he didn't want to. He didn't have the balls. Working at a place like the Pink Paradise was, if anything, downright embarrassing.

Plus, to top it all off, he couldn't afford to screw up this mission. He'd been on the losing team too many times. That was truly why he had drawn this crude duty. He had to prove himself again, to prove to the Legacy high ups that he was reliable and dependable like their favorite son Ethan.

It had come down to this. Prove himself or find another line of work.

Jonah wasn't one to go quietly into that last good night. He wasn't about to lose his status as a Legacy operative. Not after all he had done to get the appointment in the first place. This mission was going to go as smooth as silk even if he had to sacrifice it all to do it.

He took a deep breath and walked into the back alley. His own personal demons had followed him even here. It was a place that was so familiar yet so distant. He tried to focus on the chill in the air and clear his mind of the terrors of his childhood. Places like the Pink Paradise always reminded him of the past.

Night had fallen hours earlier and he could see a pale halo over the small town of Jackson Pass. The club was located at the corner of four counties. Its placement was perfect for the illegal actions going on inside, and he wasn't talking about the strippers and prostitutes. It was the guns and drugs that had him worried. It was the guns and drugs that had gotten his sister, Katy, killed.

Jonah was very close to getting the proof he needed to close down yet another one of Cameron Cash's cash cows. All he needed to do was hold on to his dignity a little while longer. Wait for Cameron to approach him. Then bring the bastard down for Katy.

A shadow flitted down the alley. He noticed it immediately but figured it to be a cat or a stray raccoon. The Pink Paradise Saloon didn't get a lot of foot traffic unless you counted all the men and women who traveled in and out the front entrance every night.

He could hear the music building. Soon he'd have to push himself onto the stage. He didn't look forward to it. Tonight was Ladies Night. And he guessed from the packed parking lot that the place was wall to wall women. As he breathed in another cleansing breath, he fixed part of his costume that kept coming unfastened. He flipped up the black patch which covered one eye and fashioned the damn Velcro back into place.

A pirate? Of all things he could perform as, why a pirate? Pinkie, the owner, thought the outfit was perfect for him. Most of the costume was tolerable, but the pants? A good breeze could make them fly off his body. But that was the point, wasn't it? They wanted to see flesh, and he had the body the women wanted to see. At least, that was what Pinkie had told him when she interviewed him six months ago. He had a body made for sin and it drove the women wild. According to her, pirates were very "in."

He just hoped he could stay "in" the costume for most of his act tonight. He wasn't looking forward to his performance. Then when he was done, he could get back to being a bodyguard to Faith. Even though Faith had proved to be an unwanted distraction, he preferred her brand of distraction over this any day.

The music swelled and he noted that his cue was coming in a few minutes. The shadow moved again. That was definitely not a cat or a raccoon. That was a person! Someone was skulking in the back alley.

Jonah cautiously made his way between a stack of cardboard boxes and picked up a stray two by four lying on the ground. As he approached the trash dumpster, he held the piece of wood over his head and readied himself to strike.

Jeffrey Sogard was a little more suspicious than usual. And he had a right to be. Franklin Fairchild was back. Not only was he back among the living, he was once again sitting high on the Legacy throne with no one to question his sudden reappearance. Not even Ethan asked what had happened to his father and why was he back.

Jeffrey found that not only strange but unsettling. He didn't have much time to ponder about the reinstated director. His brother Justin picked that moment to call. It seemed out of the blue. He hadn't spoken with either Justin or his other brother, Jarod in months. " òBout time you answered the damn phone, Jeff."

Justin was in another one of his "moods," Jeffrey could tell. "I've told you that you don't have to keep calling repeatedly. When I get a free moment, I'll call you back. I just didn't have a free moment until now.î "Yeah, yeah," Justin yammered. "That's what you always say. Trying to confuse me with all that computer talk." Jeffrey sighed. If there was ever a definition of a him-bo, it would be Justin. He cared more about his appearance and his next date than his mind. Justin had hygiene down to an art form, and all the women seemed to notice. So, to him, all the trouble he went to prepare himself every morning seemed justified.

"What do you really want?" Jeffrey knew the drill. Justin was never interested in Jeffrey or his problems. So the question was: what did he want from him this time?

"It's mama. She's been talking my ear off about Jonah. He was supposed to come by and meet a nice girl she had picked out for him, but the bum dissed her. His own mother!"

Justin sniffed. "I tell you, what is the world coming to?" Jeffrey tried to contain the laugh that was threatening to sneak out his mouth. Mama Sogard was infamous for trying to set up Jonah with a woman. Of course, it was always the daughter of a very close friend who looked more like Woody Allen than Grace Kelly.

"We have to find Jonah. For mama's sake." Justin sounded stressed. Jeffrey knew that if Jonah wasn't around for mama to set up on dates, that role fell to the next oldest. And that person just happened to be Justin.

How could things go so wrong in such a short amount of time? Wasn't it only yesterday that she had left Ethan a note telling him she was going back to Julian? Back to her husband?

Their reunion wasn't anything like she imagined it would be.

"Who are you?" Julian had snapped when she showed up at his penthouse apartment.

Janette tried to explain to him exactly who she was. That she was his Janette, his love. But Julian didn't want to believe. He didn't want to hear.

"What kind of game are you playing?" Julian fumed. She'd seen him angry many times before, but this anger was different. It was hot, and it was feral, nothing like she remembered Julian being.

He had changed more than she realized.

"I'm not playing games. Don't you understand. It's me. I am who I say I am. Janette Ambrose Black. Ask me anything." She approached him carefully. "Don't push me away. I love you."

Julian stalked across the room separating them. He had a haunted expression on his face. He'd had the same expression when she came in, and it was still marking his face. Something was definitely wrong with him. He wasn't dressed. That should have been her first clue. He never lingered in his robe and slippers. He always wanted to be up and ready for the day to begin.

The red terry cloth robe, probably provided by the hotel, made his skin look pale. He'd let his tan go. He used to be so proud of that damn tan. He was a ghost of his former self. As if no part of who he used to be still lingered in his body.

A red coloring started at the base of his neck and worked its way up until his entire head was stained with the blush of anger.

"What do you want? Money? Jewels?" He laughed. "God knows I have more than my fair share of worthless treasures.

"NO!" Janette was nearly begging him now. "You. It's you I want. Only you. Don't you understand? I want my old life back, my life with you."

It was in that moment Julian let out a howl, of sorts. It sounded like a wounded animal snarling in pain. But this scream was in the form of a horrible laugh. When the sound faded, his face turned deadly serious.

"If you are Janette, then you know that my bride and I had a whirlwind relationship." The memory seemed to bring no joy to him. "She had been dating my best friend, but I snatched her away from him. Not long after that, we were married."

Julian took in a breath and let it out slowly. "Two weeks later, she was dead. That was eight years ago."

He leaned in intimidating her with his closeness, then whispered, "I've moved on."

She could tell it was a lie. He hadn't moved on at all.

Julian stalked to the balcony and rested his hands on the railing. "If she had lived, so many things would be different. I would be different."

Janette raced toward him. "But don't you see? I am her. I'm Janette."

She was close enough now to touch him. As she reached her arm out, he twirled around and withdrew a gun from the pocket of his red robe. He aimed the small firearm at her.

Julian's face was drawn and tired. He looked like a man who had tried to evade his demons and failed. The demons from his past had finally caught up to him.

"Do you know what today is?" he croaked out?

"No? Well, I'll tell you. It's not only the anniversary of my wife's death but of the day my niece was raped." He stopped talking and swallowed the lump in his throat. Tears spilled onto his cheeks. "I have only ever loved two women, and I have managed to let both of them down."

This was crazy. Why was he talking crazy?

"NO! You haven't let anyone down," Janette protested. "Faith is fine, and I'm here standing before you alive and well."

He forced a hollow laugh from his throat. "You spin a convincing argument, but I don't believe you. Even if you were Janette, which you aren't, it would be too late anyway. My mind is made up."

The impact of his words hit her hard. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Janette felt a terror grip her heart as she watched Julian turn the gun on himself.

"What are you doing?"

Before he could end his own life, a laser from a high powered rifle spotted his chest. Julian coughed and pitched forward. The rifle shot went wild and embedded in the wooden door frame. Janette tried to pull Julian to safety but he seemed strangely disoriented. The second shot was true and hit him square in the chest. The force of the blow catapulted him backward. His body fell full force into the railing then tipped up and over.

He had fallen over the balcony!

Janette screamed and ran toward the railing, but she was still optimistic. Maybe Julian had managed to hang on. Maybe he needed her help.

She never made it through the door. A black gloved hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the penthouse.

It was Declan O'Conner.

Ethan Fairchild wasn't in the mood for waiting. He'd requested a full physical which included x-rays and an MRI. He wasn't going to take any chances. Something was going on in his head and it wasn't psychological. He knew it was medical. There had to be a reason why he lost control of his own body.

He couldn't stop playing what if games. What if the enemy was trying to control him? What if they already had? What damage had he done to the Legacy institution?

There had to be a reason why he lost control and watched helplessly as his own body committed such an outrageous act. Maybe he had a split personality - and that personality was an emotionless assassin out to kill Michela. He wasn't discounting anything.

While he waited he retreated into his mind. After he received the kiss off letter from Janette, he'd gone back to calling her Michela. Not because it was her name but because the word hurt less. It evoked less emotion in his brain, in his body. Calling her who she really was only reminded him of what he'd lost what he never really had.

How many years had he dreamed about her turning to him in her time of need? Loving him without the guilt of knowing she was Julian Black's wife?

It was finally over between them and she hadn't had the decency to dump him in person. That hurt. He was only good enough to receive a Dear John letter. A damn Dear John letter! And then she walked away as if he hadn't been holding her that night. As if he had never loved her. As if he didn't really matter to her one tiny bit.

As if eight years together meant nothing more than a passing glance.

He hurt. He hurt like hell. And nothing was going to make it right again. Nothing would make it go away. All he could do was work and hope the pain diminished with time.

Mitchell Grayson, a country doctor from East Texas, walked into the examination room and gave Ethan an unreadable expression. He thrust a few x-rays atop a light box and pointed to a strange shape on the negative.

"What's up, doc?" Ethan said quietly, not recognizing the reference to the familiar cartoon.

"Which do you want first? The good or the bad news?"

Ethan didn't know if he could handle any more bad news. "Good. Give me the good."

"I've found the problem." Mitch gave the operative a half smile and Ethan seemed to relax a bit. "It's right here." He pointed to a square white box in the negative he had indicated upon entering the room.

"What is it? A tumor?"

"No, nothing like that. It's a very sophisticated microchip. I've never seen anything quite like it. I didn't even know this sort of thing really existed yet."

Ethan took a deep breath. "Give it to me straight, Doc. What are we dealing with?"

"As far as I can tell? Artificial intelligence. As far as I can tell, the chip isn't working, which is the good news. But it is connected to your central nervous system. That's the bad news. It's off, but it could be reactivated at any time, by any number of means. Electronically. Vocally. You name it."

The doctor's country twang didn't make the news any easier to bear.

Ethan's agitated state grew. "Get it the hell out of me, Doc! I refuse to be a chip-headed experimental case that people sit around drinking coffee and taking notes on."

Mitch Grayson frowned. "That's the other bad news. It can't come out. It's fused to your central nervous system. I don't think the person who designed it realized the damage it could do to you. If I attempt to take it out, it could literally kill you. If didn't end up brain dead, you'd be dead dead. Deader than a chicken at plucking time."

"You have to get it out. What if..." Ethan hated being melodramatic but he knew the sort of damage a man like him could do to the Legacy if he became a loose cannon. "What if it's activated again? What if this time I really do kill someone?"

"I'm afraid that's a chance you're going to have to take, partner. I mean, unless you'd really rather be pushing up daisies."

Eden's conscience was getting the better of her. The minutes seemed to tick by so slowly. Almost as if time was moving backward but her heart was thumping in her chest like the wings of a wild hummingbird.

How long, she wondered. How long before her father figured out the truth? How long before they confronted Faith with the daughter she never knew was alive?

When her father, Nathan found out the truth behind Cassie's birth, he was not going to be happy. Not happy at all.

It was amazing how easy it had been to fool everyone. The funny thing was, she didn't feel guilty about it.

Ian was dead and Faith had been so out of it that she believed anything, even when her cousin told her the baby had died. And then when Faith kept the baby's death a secret, Eden knew her plan would work like a charm.

Now the only obstacle to her keeping Cassie was her own father. If he decided to tell the world of Eden's sins, she'd be forced to take drastic action. Action even she didn't know she had been capable of. No one was going to stand between her and Cassie --not even her own father!

"What in the hell are you doing here?" Jonah couldn't believe what he was seeing. Faith had followed him to the Pink Paradise.

"What do you think I'm doing? How are you supposed to protect me if you're not around me? You're supposed to take care of me. Make sure that whatever it is you're protecting me from doesn't hurt me." Faith glared at Jonah from behind the blue trash dumpster. "What if Ian had broken into the cabin while you were here?"

"He didn't. No one even knows about that cabin except my immediate family. You were perfectly safe."

She glanced curiously at the establishment and its gaudy pink paint. "The Pink Paradise?"

Before Faith could figure out what a spy would be doing in such a slimy place, a man poked his head out the back door and shouted. "Sogard, dammit, you're going to miss your cue. Pinkie won't be pleased if you keep the ladies waiting."

"Be right there," he shouted over his shoulder. "I don't have time for this, Faith. Come with me."

He was right. He didn't have time for this. What in the hell was she doing here? If she spoke one word out of turn, his cover would be blown, big time. He grabbed her by the arm and drug her into the club seating her next to a big, black bouncer named Bubba.

"You watch her, Bubba. Make sure she stays put." Jonah shook hands with the man.

"What'd she do?"

"She owes me money for services rendered, if you catch my drift."

"Right." The bouncer put a hand on Faith's shoulder making sure she was rooted to the spot.

She glared daggers at Jonah and then did the same to the bouncer. It didn't seem to effect either one of them. Dammit, she wasn't six years old. They couldn't treat her like this.

Lights swirled around the stage and a haunting, heart throbbing tune poured out of the tiny club's speakers. A second later Jonah burst through the curtain wearing a full pirate costume. She wanted to laugh, but she couldn't. The sight before her had her in complete shock. He looked every bit the pirate and every bit the perfect alpha male from broad chest to slim waist. It wasn't until the pants flew off with one tug that Faith's jaw dropped open.

She knew he couldn't see her from the stage but he seemed to be throwing all his lurid stares and hip thrusts in her direction. Women frenzied around him screaming and reaching for him. When he came close enough, the women pushed money down his pants. He sensuously turned around and shook his fanny at them, Faith's eyes grew wide. He was wearing a thong! Who knew the man wore a thong?

She could feel the blush creeping up her face.

Jonah leaped off the stage and landed in the empty spot directly in front of Faith. He was wearing nothing but the thong now, what there was of it. He looked at her as if was waiting for something. Then he bent down and gyrated, dancing just for her. Finally, she figured out what it was he wanted. Money. He wanted her to give him money.

She reached into the pocket of her jeans and found a five dollar bill. She held it out to him. A grin that could only be called wicked stretched across his face. He shook his head and motioned downward.

Oh, God, he wanted her to stuff it into his pants.

His eyes sparkled as she quickly placed it with the other money bulging out of the small scrap of material. She was definitely going to see him in a whole new light once she got him back to the cabin.

A moment later, he was gone and back on the stage finishing his act. If it was possible, the women were screaming louder. The sound was deafening. Before she knew what was happening, Jonah was back out front, dressed and pulling her toward the back entrance.

"What are you doing?" She asked, suddenly a little frightened of him.

"What do you think? I'm taking you home."

A women behind Faith wanted to be taken home as well and even suggested a threesome. Jonah smiled and shook his head. "Honey," he threw back. "What I have planned for her takes a long time and centers around a king sized bed."

Faith gasped. Once they were outside away from the other women, she railed on him. "You deliberately let that woman believe we were going home to have sex."

Jonah ignored her comment.

"You're not, are you?"

"What?" he asked with the sparkle returning to his eyes. "Taking you home to have sex? I don't know. Do you want me to seriously consider it? After all, it's all I've been thinking about all day long. You. Me. No clothes and a king sized bed."

Faith felt her breath coming faster. He was out of his mind. Then she decided that it must be a part of his act.

Once they were in the car she took in a deep breath. "Whoa, you really had me going there for a second. I thought you were serious."