Part I

“Oh, God. I can’t do it.”

“Give it to me. I’ll do it.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course. If I didn’t, I’d kill him.”

“He’s already dead.”

“Well, then he’ll be deader. But he won’t be because I know what I’m doing.”

“So do it already.”

“Don’t rush me! Alright, on the count of three.”

“1”

“2”

“3!”

*~*~*~*~*~*

For future reference, if anyone were to ask him what it was like to die and then be brought back to life, Zander Smith knew every intricate detail involved.

Because 15 seconds earlier, a needle had been stabbed into his motionless heart, sending life coursing through his veins like a tidal wave. He awoke with a gasp and a scream before collapsing back down on the gurney.

“Oh, Christ. Did it work?” the first attendant asked nervously from his post at the door.

The 2nd attendant, the stabber, tentatively felt for a pulse, fearing the worst. A hell of a lot of money was riding on this.

The money shot, as he and his cohort had chortled about when originally approached to do this.

“Well?!” The first attendant demanded frantically.

“I got a pulse! Shallow breathing. This sucker is alive!” the stabber crowed triumphantly. He’d buy a Hummer first. No wait, fly to Miami first, then buy a Hummer. He’d get more ladies that way.

The first attendant stepped into the dimly lit hallway, finding it empty as usual. Most who worked in the coroner’s office didn’t linger around the morgue. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed the memorized number quickly, waiting before the call was picked up on the third ring.

“It was a success. We’re moving to Phase 2.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Who the hell is this?!” the private doctor asked the two attendants as the comatose body of one John Doe was loaded into the private plane.

“Dunno. The paperwork is supposed to meet you on the other side.”

The doctor sighed in frustration. “No name! Shot in the chest 3 times and no name?! No file attached! I don’t think we can leave airspace on this.”

“Sir! We need to leave!” An imposing man clad in black approached the attendants and doctor near the van from which John Doe had been unloaded. “What?” the doctor sputtered, clearly outraged and confused. “On whose authority?”

The man ignored the question and stared hard at the attendants. “You can leave. You know the restrictions on you. You know the penalties as well.”

The attendants retreated to the safety of their van and left the runway without incident.

The man turned his attention once again to the agitated doctor. “Your clinic is getting a lot of financial support. I suggest you do as I say, tend to your patient and not ask stupid questions.”

The doctor sighed. He needed to be on board and his clinic did need the money. “Fine. Can I at least know how long the flight will be?”

“Don’t know sir, but we’ll be landing across the pond. I can tell you that much.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

“What the hell are you talking about? His body was cremated already?!”

Alexis shoved past the security officer and stormed into the coroner’s office, looking for anyone who belonged there, and was alive. She cornered a doctor almost immediately. “Zander Smith. I demand to know the whereabouts of his body!”

The ill-behaved looking doctor waved off the guard and turned to his filing cabinet. “Yes, and you are?”

“Alexis Davis, attorney for Zander Smith,” she shot back.

“The deceased,” the doctor added softly as he perused the alphabetically categorized files. Alexis reared back, as if struck by the blow of Zander’s death once more. “Yes, the deceased. They told me he’d been cremated already, but that can’t be possible.”

The doctor pulled the file and opened it, perusing it momentarily. “Ah, yes, it is possible.” He handed the file to Alexis, who snatched it and pored over the medical terminology within. Her face fell as she read in silence.

It was true.

It was all true.

“Who authorized this?” she finally asked. Everything was wrong.

“Look at the bottom,” the doctor replied with a frown as he sat back down at his desk and began tapping on his computer once more.

Alexis glanced down to the bottom of the authorization sheet to see a name scrawled on the signature line. “I can’t read this.” She thrust the documents back at him in exasperation.

“Well, he had all the proper documentation and his people took a body that didn’t need an autopsy on anyway. I’m swamped tonight and one less db is fine by me,” the doctor said in a bored tone. Turning to see an unimpressed Alexis staring back, he sighed, knowing she wouldn’t leave unless forced. “Fine,” he added, raising his reading glasses up to the scrawling. He peered for a moment.

“Bert Cooee. Can’t really read it, but I remember him introducing himself.”

Alexis startled at the name. “Cooee? Are you absolutely certain?”

“Yes. Are we done because as you can see, I am very busy.”

But Alexis had already left.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The imposing man stood and watched as two nurses and the doctor tended to the needs of the still unconscious and gravely injured young man.

“Lord, he’s like a punching bag and a magnet for random gunfire all in one body,” the doctor grumbled as he supervised the dressing changes. “I’m imagining he had a regular room at the local hospital,” he observed to no one in particular.

“Is there a problem?” the imposing man interjected as he approached them.

The doctor looked up and gave the imposing man a withering glare. “I look at his injuries and past injuries, such as this leg wound, and yet I have no medical history.”

The imposing man stared for a moment. “He’s been shot a few times, beat up a few times and is now unconscious due to severe blood loss and 3 holes in his chest. There’s your medical history,” he replied bluntly. He turned around and rolled his eyes. How was it that he managed to pull the short stick on these assignments?

*~*~*~*~*~*

Alexis? It’s Gia. Is it true?”

Gia’s tearful voice caught Alexis off guard and she sat almost immediately, cradling the phone to her ear. She glanced at Kristina, who played happily with Alice, the Nanny.

“Yes, it’s true. Zander’s gone.”

Oh, God. What happened? What was he doing?”

“He had Emily in the cottage and the police surrounded them. He came out and made it look like he was reaching for a gun. They shot him and that was it,” Alexis said, her voice trailing off sadly.

I can’t believe it. I shouldn’t have left him. He doesn’t have many friends. I should have stayed,” Gia broke off as her sobbing overcame her. Alexis sat waiting, her own grief over Zander’s death being held at bay. She was waiting until Kristina was put down for the evening. Then she’d deal.

“Gia, you were a wonderful friend to Zander. He knew that and so do I.”

It just seems so unlike him. He lost Emily before and handled it. What happened to him? Why would he do this? It doesn’t make any sense!”

No, it didn’t.

“The memorial service is tomorrow.”

I’ll be there. Do you need any help?”

Alexis shook her head. “He was cremated, so I don’t need to make any arrangements.”

What? He was cremated?” Gia was confused. This was all wrong. “That can’t be right. Zander wanted to be buried next to his brother. He told me that a long time ago. He wanted to be close to his brother. Didn’t it say that in his will?”

“There was no will. There was no autopsy done either,” Alexis told her, the name of the mysterious man who authorized it coming to mind once more. The name struck a chord within her but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

Are you serious? Alexis, I hate to sound paranoid, but this is all wrong. What’s going on over there? Nevermind, I’m coming now. You and I are going to find out what’s going on,” Gia announced, her tears now dry. Business was at hand and she cared about Zander too much to just let this pass.

Alexis bit her lower lip. She trusted Gia implicitly and knew she wouldn’t reveal any suspicions Alexis held. “Gia, do you by any chance know of a man by the name of Bert Cooee?”

Cooee? No, can’t say that I have.”

“Damn. He’s the one who authorized Zander’s cremation.”

Gia paused as something occurred to her. It was a reach, but she put it out there anyway. It might help. “This is a reach, but an old roommate of mine used that word all the time. Cooee. It’s slang, from Australia. It means far away, like a huge distance. Does that help?”

Alexis stilled at the translation. Cooee. Bert Cooee. A great distance. A strange man with great authority.

“Bobby,” she whispered, a name she had not uttered in nearly 20 years. God. Of course. Oh, God, of course.

Alexis?”

Alexis gave her head a shake as she focused once more. “Gia? Can you take a leave from school?”

Gia’s eyes widened with surprise. “I can talk to the Dean about it. How long?”

“I don’t know, maybe a few weeks?”

I’ll do it. When do you need me?”

“Can you be in Athens on Friday?”

Athens? Why there?”

Alexis looked determined. “I need to see someone there,” she replied. “He’s probably already expecting me,” she surmised with a shake of her head. “I’ll call you later about when to come in. Just be ready to leave and don’t tell anyone where you’re going or why.”

Gia frowned. Lying to her brother and Mother? Great, back to old habits once more. Still, for the first time, it sounded necessary. “What about Zander’s memorial service?”

Alexis’s expression soured. By her estimation, it was all a farce now. “There won’t be one.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

“MERDE!!”

A priceless vase smashed as it landed against the mahogany desk that sat on the far side of the room. Alec cringed at the outburst. It had taken him ages to restore the desk, now he was sure that upon closer inspection, there would be nicks and scratches.

“Madame,” he started before a crystal clear glass flew past his head and struck the Salvador Dali painting behind him. Singularities was one of his favourites but Helena hated anything from the Americas. He’d take it down and replace it with something dreary once she retired for the evening.

“Such incompetence!” she seethed as she stalked the hardwood flooring of her private chamber. “Simple tasks for simple minds and yet those FOOLS cannot follow through!”

Alec nodded in sympathy. “Yes, yes. Alexander got away from them, but it ended as you wanted, did it not?” he soothed as he went over to the bed and began fluffing the crimson coloured pillows and linens.

“If it ended as I wanted, I would not be throwing things about the room and screaming would I?” she demanded.

There was his opening. Alec pursed his lips into a smile. “Screaming and throwing things about the room is not always a product of something dissatisfactory,” he said suggestively.

Helena’s eyes glittered at his remark and her posture relaxed somewhat. “My dear, you always know just what to say when I’m in this state,” she murmured as she poured herself a new drink in a new glass. “I am not happy with the end result.”

“Nor am I, Madame,” Alec agreed smoothly as he rounded the bed and approached her from behind. “Might I suggest waiting until morning before you proceed with your next avenue?” he suggested as he took her drink from her and downed the amber liquid in one gulp, feeling it scorch his throat. Helena’s gaze raked possessively over his frame before nodding. “Alright Alec, we will wait until morning to deal with the bungling of Alexander’s death.” Her lips thinned into a knowing smile. “But you must keep me occupied until then.”

Alec smiled in return as his hands lowered and tugged at the knot that held her satiny robe closed. “As you wish, Madame.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Beeping.

He heard beeping.

When you die, you hear beeping?

Now voices. Excited voices. Pressure against his body. Cool air.

Was this heaven?

Light.

Slowly he opened his eyes. Everything was blurry, but he could see the blobs of faces. He blinked a few times and moved his head.

Pain. Or rather, an ache. Everywhere.

Warmth. Something had been draped over him and now he was warm. He blinked a few more times and a face came into view. He knew this face.

“Zander.”

The face knew him too, apparently.

“Look at me Zander.”

The imposing face frowned down at him.

Was he God?

“Zander, my name is Robbie Jensen. I’m here to help. When you can talk, you can call me RJ.”

Zander simply stared up at the man. Jensen. Was he related to Dara Jensen? They looked the same. But Dara Jensen was alive and he was not.

He was dead.

Wasn’t he?

RJ looked at him curiously. “You aren’t dead,” he added bluntly. “You’re on a plane, heading to Athens.”

Zander uttered an undecipherable noise. RJ leaned closer. “What?”

Zander tried again, but found he couldn’t speak. He was so tired and felt his eyes drooping. He wasn’t dead. Why was he going to Athens?

RJ saw that Zander was once again slipping back into a deep sleep. He sighed and stood.

The doctor crossed his arms in front of him. “Zander? As in Zander Smith, the cop shooter and killer of other assorted people?” he said loudly. “What the hell is going on here?”

RJ tilted his head to one side, feeling it crack. “I don’t answer to you,” he informed the doctor coolly. “You’re starting to piss me off and people who do that get their asses thrown out of moving airplanes.”

The doctor paled at the very real threat. He believed it. Taking in a sharp breath he sat down next to Zander and began checking his vitals once more. “When are we landing?” he asked shakily.

“A few hours. We’ll be met at the landing and you’ll be put on another flight back to Houston.”

“Will another doctor be meeting us as well?”

RJ nodded. He glanced at Zander once more.

“And his Father.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

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