<\/p>\n
As the last thing, he drew blood from me.\u00a0 As much as he could, promising he would give me an infusion as soon as we were on the ship.\u00a0 The tools he used were strange, and the process painless, but he took as much as he dared, and I felt the effects immediately.<\/p>\n So, I was woozy and sweaty when my doorbell rang just after 11.\u00a0 Blood loss, rigorous exercise and significant stress made it all I could do to try to keep my breath from coming out in ragged gasps.<\/p>\n And there he was.\u00a0 Lester Worsham in the all too real flesh.\u00a0 He loomed in my doorway, somehow more threatening than ever in the incongruousness of his white golf shirt, his sharply creased khakis.\u00a0 His piggy eyes sparkled with some cold fire.\u00a0 His smile roiled my guts.<\/p>\n \u201cHani, Hani,\u201d he said softly, \u201cwhat have you done?\u201d<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t wait to be invited but pushed past me and started down the entrance hall.\u00a0 I shut the door too hard behind him, flustered and awkward.<\/p>\n In my cheerful, sun-lit living room, he stood looking around him curiously.<\/p>\n \u201cFor a gal with four hundred million in the bank, you could do a lot better, but it\u2019s\u2026 pleasant,\u201d he said, letting me know what he knew.\u00a0 \u201cYou know, you intrigue me, Hani, why you should have been so interested in me, all this time.\u00a0 If you wanted to get my attention, you know you didn\u2019t have to work that hard.\u00a0 Frankly, I prefer women who come on to me the old-fashioned way.\u00a0 But you\u2026 you had to keep digging, didn\u2019t you?\u201d\u00a0 I saw his eyes sweep around the room.\u00a0 Did he think I was taping him?\u00a0 We were, but not with any technology he\u2019d suspect me of having.<\/p>\n He was sharp, watching my face to see if I\u2019d give anything away.\u00a0 \u201cOh, darlin\u2019,\u201d he smiled.\u00a0 \u201cYou didn\u2019t really think you could set me up with some common scam, did you?\u00a0 You\u2019re smart, but not half as smart as you like to think.\u201d<\/p>\n He moved a little closer, his voice more intimate as he went on.<\/p>\n \u201cWhen we\u2019re through here, there won\u2019t be anything left for evidence.\u00a0 There won\u2019t be a thing left, trust me.\u201d<\/p>\n My job was to lure him as far as the bedroom.\u00a0 So far, this wasn\u2019t taking a very amorous turn.<\/p>\n I let him keep talking.\u00a0 Anyone talking that much must be very sure that he\u2019s not going to leave witnesses.\u00a0 Besides, I\u2019m not sure I could have gotten a word out.\u00a0 I was that scared.<\/p>\n I suddenly thought about the kitchen door.\u00a0 These old apartments had service entrances.\u00a0 I wondered if he\u2019d come alone or brought reinforcements.\u00a0 No, no.\u00a0 I reminded myself.\u00a0 We\u2019d thought of that.\u00a0 Uhura was standing guard there.<\/p>\n Still, I was frozen in fear, felt sweat dripping down my spine.\u00a0 I knew my reinforcements were just out of sight, and I knew they had weapons, some space guns, ray guns, something.\u00a0 But they weren\u2019t here right now, only me.\u00a0 And even if he thought I was trying to set him up, he was so clearly unafraid, so utterly confident in his own power.\u00a0 I could feel it, could feel the menace that flowed so naturally from the man.<\/p>\n Worsham stepped forward and took my arm.\u00a0 I managed not to scream, but couldn\u2019t suppress a gasp.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019ve gotten information, Hani, information that you cannot have.\u00a0 And you\u2019re going to tell me where you got it before I kill you.\u201d<\/p>\n He was a big man with big hands.\u00a0 He squeezed my arm so hard it ached.\u00a0 He was practically lifting me off my feet, effortlessly.\u00a0 \u201cWho are you, Hanalie Surat?\u00a0 How do you know what you know?\u00a0 Tell me and I promise not to hurt you\u2026 much.\u201d<\/p>\n I was not faking hysteria.\u00a0 I was panting with fear.\u00a0 Trying desperately to remember my lines.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2026 I met some people\u2026 online,\u201d I whispered, \u201cI\u2026they sent me information, I don\u2019t even know who they are, they just knew all this \u2026stuff.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 I gasped raggedly.\u00a0 \u201cThere\u2019s \u2026the stuff today, that was just a little bit, I\u2019ve got more\u2026you can\u2019t kill me, it\u2019ll get out\u2026 they\u2019ll know it was you\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s see what you\u2019ve got,\u201d He said, cool as ice.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d I shook my head, futilely, \u201cNo, it\u2019s already out there.\u00a0 It\u2019s no use\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Did he not believe that?\u00a0 The pressure on my arm tightened.\u00a0 I cried out in sudden pain.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay.. Okay.\u00a0 Okay.\u00a0 It\u2019s\u2026 I hid it\u2026 it\u2019s.. in my bedroom\u2026\u201d I said as he gave my arm another jerk, almost yanking my shoulder out of its socket.<\/p>\n \u201cAh,\u201d he smiled.\u00a0 \u201cYour bedroom.\u00a0 Perfect.\u00a0 Lead on.\u201d<\/p>\n So I stumbled down the hallway, still in his grip.\u00a0 He half-shoved me into my room, closed the door and stood leaning against it.\u00a0 Show me,\u201d he ordered.<\/p>\n According to plan, I pulled up a chair in order to reach the high, old-fashioned cabinets that spanned above the bedroom window.\u00a0 It was a stretch, appropriate for a good hiding place, and I teetered on my toes on the chair.\u00a0 Worsham, according to plan, came over and steadied me, with a most unwelcome hand around my thigh; sliding up high, on the inside of my thigh.\u00a0 Oh, god, come on, guys, where are you?!<\/i>\u00a0 I felt my head spinning.<\/p>\n I fell on him.<\/p>\n That was not according to plan.<\/p>\n It did, though, send my accomplices surging out of the closet, and Worsham, on the floor beneath me, looked up with venom in his eyes.<\/p>\n He flung me aside like I was nothing, my head knocking hard on the wood floor.\u00a0 He managed to struggle to his knees, but he was no match for them.\u00a0 Jim and Spock came at him from either side, trying to wrestle him back down to the ground.\u00a0 Shaking off the shock of impact, I scrambled away from those thrashing, grunting bodies, Worsham fighting against them with all his considerable strength, Dr. McCoy hovering nearby, waiting for an opening to slip in with his injection.<\/p>\n My bedside rug slipped beneath so many feet, and Jim and Worsham pitched backward into my bedside table, sending the lamp crashing almost on top of me.\u00a0 Worsham was up on his feet a split second before Jim, but not soon enough.\u00a0 Spock was behind him.\u00a0 In the end, it wasn\u2019t even any fancy ray guns that did it, but Mr. Spock, who reached over and did something almost undetectable with his fingers on Worsham\u2019s neck.\u00a0 Worsham crumpled like a rag doll.<\/p>\n For that matter, so did I.<\/p>\n Next came the ugly part.\u00a0 At Jim\u2019s order, Uhura, quick on the scene, put an arm around me and got me out of the bedroom, where that nice Dr. McCoy became some kind of crazed artist with my blood and other bodily fluids.\u00a0 Worsham himself was dosed with some space-age drug, and my DNA handily applied underneath his fingernails and god knows where else.<\/p>\n I already knew about all the other facets of this devious plan.\u00a0 I knew how a flood of evidence and rumor would link Worsham to a shocking array of crimes, civil, federal, sexual, financial, you name it.\u00a0 Most of them would actually be \u2013 or had been? – his handiwork, which was even more shocking to me.\u00a0 My murder was just the spark that would ignite the fuse.\u00a0 Once the revelations started coming, no one would be able to put out the fire.<\/p>\n Jim called out after us, \u201cTime to collect whatever you want to take.\u00a0 As soon as we\u2019re done here, we have to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n I\u2019d already gathered a few things in the spare bedroom, admittedly an odd assortment: my journals, some photographs, my wedding ring and Mom\u2019s silver bracelet. \u00a0My iPod – I\u2019d pressed Spock as to their ability to save all the music I\u2019d collected on it.\u00a0 A couple of books by my spiritual teacher, all I could fit in the one backpack, all I could carry, all I wanted to carry.<\/p>\n Oh, and my passport.\u00a0 How funny is that?<\/p>\n By the time I walked back down the hall, they\u2019d done a job on things.\u00a0 Furniture shoved around, artwork in the hallway knocked askew or fallen, broken glass on the rug.<\/p>\n One last touch: the doctor told me to hold out my hands.\u00a0 He smeared blood \u2013 my own blood \u2013 on them and showed me where to leave my own bloody prints.<\/p>\n Bloody handprints on the wall, the furniture.\u00a0 My prints and Worsham\u2019s.\u00a0 My own exercise shirt from that morning, torn and bloody, too.\u00a0 Even though I knew what it was all about, I felt sick to my stomach, more shaken than ever.<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t see Worsham\u2019s unconscious body, slumped in the elevator, his face scratched with my DNA, my blood splattered across his expensive white golf shirt, didn\u2019t see my sweaty undies shoved in his pocket.<\/p>\n Couldn\u2019t see, though I\u2019d helped frame them, all the emails that went out with perfect timing; all that evidence, a calculated mix of fact and fiction, pointing the finger at Worsham for a vast number and range of crimes, both subtle and shocking.\u00a0 All the emails that were sent to the critical people around the world, casting a net of revelations, inside information, new discoveries that would, if the plan worked, grow a web of positive change, a chain reaction that would tip the planet back into its intended path.<\/p>\n And that was it.\u00a0 Done.\u00a0 Dr. McCoy wouldn\u2019t let me wash the blood off my hands.\u00a0 He didn\u2019t want extraneous forensic evidence to mess up his perfect crime scene.<\/p>\n Time to go.\u00a0 Lady Macbeth, with blood on her hands.<\/p>\n I had a fleeting image of this crowd in kilts.\u00a0 No weirder than the truth, I thought.<\/p>\n They stood there, in my living room, carefully avoiding the scene they\u2019d so meticulously created.\u00a0 Jim spoke into his cell once more, gave an order to \u201cstand by\u201d.\u00a0 Spock reached out to carry the backpack I\u2019d stuffed full and stepped back into what looked like some kind of loose formation \u2013 they spaced themselves a few feet apart from each other.<\/p>\n Now, faced with the actuality, I just stood there.\u00a0 I felt my head swimming.\u00a0 Was it the blood loss or the fact of what I was doing \u2013 or thought I was doing, anyway \u2013 that hit me?<\/p>\n \u201cTime to go\u201d, Jim said again.\u00a0\u00a0 Then, \u201cHanalie, we have to go.\u00a0 Are you ready?\u201d<\/p>\n I think I nodded, but didn\u2019t move. \u00a0Actually, I didn\u2019t know what to do.\u00a0 Was I supposed to stand somewhere special?\u00a0 There in the middle of my blood-spattered living room?<\/p>\n The music thumped louder than ever in my woozy head.\u00a0 Jim held out his hand.\u00a0 \u201cTrust me,\u201d he smiled.\u00a0 I took three long, irrevocable steps toward him, grabbed the outstretched hand.\u00a0 In one smooth movement, he pulled me close, strong arm pressing me tight against his hard chest.\u00a0 With his free hand, he spoke a single word into his device:\u00a0 \u201cEnergize!\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" < previous\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 next > Dr. McCoy was almost ready.\u00a0 Now he did ask me for swabs, of various bodily fluids, having meticulously planned out the most scandalous sex-tinged murder he could devise.\u00a0 He even … Continue reading ![\"chair\"](\"https:\/\/hanilives.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/photo16-150x200.jpg\")
<\/a>Dr. McCoy was almost ready.\u00a0 Now he did ask me for swabs, of various bodily fluids, having meticulously planned out the most scandalous sex-tinged murder he could devise.\u00a0 He even commanded my sweaty undies from dance; as he said, with utter clinical detachment, they were rich with incriminating evidence.<\/p>\n