Just an Old Legend Ch. 08

"What it this, now?" He was clearly mystified.

"Come here, baby," she purred as she grabbed his hand to walk to the house, "Momma's got a whole lot of news to tell, and we've just got way too many clothes on right now for me to tell it all."

She made them some coffee and sat down with Ion. Starting at the top, she explained everything that had happened. He sat there in amazement, "So from what you say, I cannot get a job now, I cannot do anything?"

She nodded, "Things are a lot different these days, Ion. But I did make that call. I'll hear in a few days, I hope, and then you won't have to hide here so much. As it is, if a policeman asks you for identification for some reason, you have none to give. You can't give your real name, because if somebody ever runs that name through the police computer, what will come up? A man wanted for the long-ago murder of his wife. No one would even believe that you are that man, and so they would think you were lying. You need to have a name. With a real name, you can get a job if you want one, you can learn to drive a car, own property, everything. Right now, you can't even use that little old boat that we have. You need a license for that, too. I don't carry my wallet to hold money as much as I need it to carry all of the stupid pieces of paper that I need to be able to do anything."

He sat back in shock, but Helen was prepared for it. "Listen, cutie, I don't want to write that book for me. I want to write it for you, so that It'll make money. Every time that someone buys the book, I'll get some money from it, and I want to put all of that money someplace for you, Ion."

She reached for her purse, and pulled a bank card from her wallet. "This," she said as she held it up, "this is how banks run today. I put money into my bank. If I need some to pay for something, I can pay at the store using this card. The money goes from my bank to the store's bank, and it's done. I can go to the bank, stick this into a machine, and take out some of my money, if I need to have real money. I want you to have the same thing. But before I can do that for you, We need two things - money, and a name for you. I hope the book will make you some money. With a name, you can have money in a bank, and you can have one of these. No name, no bank, no money, nothing. Understand now, honey?"

"Not everything yet," he said, "but I am happy that I have you."

"What an amazing coincidence," she said, "I was just thinking the same thing. That thought crosses my mind about every time that I look at you!"

Over the next week, Helen had to make a couple of trips to her condo in the city, and she marveled at how strange her old life now looked to her. She arranged for movers to haul her things to the town near their island and prepared everything that she could think of, finally calling a realtor to put it on the market. There were a few calls to Benny from payphones and she met with him once to provide him with the passport photos and fingerprints that she'd had taken of Ion.

On her second trip in, she checked with Benny and met with him for the transaction.

"I got real lucky with this one," he said, "This is a real life waiting for your guy to step into. They even look the same, pretty much, and the guy's first name is the same as your guy's middle one," he said, as he showed her the photo that he had. "Landed here two months ago with legal immigration papers, everything. I have it all, even his old stuff from home in the package there. Not much in the way of relatives that I could find on the net, and none here. He just had a few bad habits. You don't need to know much more than that, but I'm gonna be out about six thousand since I had to cover his debts as I mentioned on the phone. But his name is clear now, even from the folks that he owed money to. Can you top up our price so that we're square?"

Helen nodded, and passed the envelope, "Here it is. You want to count it?"

Benny shook his head, "Nope. I don't need to. Stan said you'd play this right. One thing, tell your guy that he should stay the hell away from the west coast, if he can, and maybe Vegas and Jersey too, if he goes down south. I don't think you want to run into the kind of people this guy ran with, that's all. I covered everything I could find, but you never know, right? I can't say I'm perfect. There might be something that I didn't know about."

"What about the real guy ever showing up?" she asked, "I don't need to know much, but what if this man gets into trouble with the law and they pick up my friend instead?"

"Not possible anymore," Benny shrugged, "Nothing left to even get fingerprints or dental records from, Gorgeous. No police record, nothing. Just plenty of stupid. This guy had it in spades, but he didn't get far enough along to make anybody notice him on the law's side of the street. He just blew through somebody else's money too fast for his own good, and had no way to pay. Once they figured that out, ..."

He shrugged, "By the way, there's something really lucky here I ought to mention. Your guy's fingerprints. They have some matches with the dead guy's. I'd say enough to get real ID with, if you ever get brave enough to try. It shouldn't be a problem. I was surprised. I mean, I've seen it before, but it's just quirky luck to match one or two things here and there. This is just about a legal match, nine out of ten on the important fingers. I can say they're different in some ways, and your guy's fingers are larger, but it caught my eye, you know. This could work out real good for him, I figure. Best of luck to you, doll."

Two days later, Helen ran up the steps and tackled Ion. He smiled at her and told her that he thought he had a surprise for her. He showed her sketches that he'd prepared of a studio for her. Her mouth fell open, "You'd build this for me?"

His smile widened, "Elena, I already have the wood for the framing. I am sorry, but it would already have been framed and ready for closing in and finishing, but I needed one detail from you - and you were not here for me to ask."

"What detail, Ion? This is perfect! Why would I care about a detail?"

"Which side of the house would you like me to build it on? It can go here, or there," he said pointing.

Helen laughed, "Well, that is a bit of a detail. I'd prefer it if it could be there."

She noticed the expression of relief on his face and laughed harder, "You would have put it here, right?"

He nodded, "So glad I waited now."

She hugged him tightly, "How long until it's finished?"

He shrugged, "A week, and the paint will be dry. I only need some siding, and not much, the shingles and the paint, of course."

"You are the most amazing man," she said, kissing him, "I have a surprise for you, too. Come here."

Ion stared at the documents that Helen had tossed on the table. Helen spread them out in a couple of piles.

"Who is this?" he asked mystified.

"That's you now," she said, "Nichita, ... however you say that other name there. You need to read through the other pile there, and memorize everything. That's your new history to go with the name. You need most especially to remember your birthdate here. Heck, you need to memorize it like it's your own life, because that's what it is now."

"And this man," Ion said, "where is he?"

"Sit down, honey," she said patiently, "You might as well begin right now. I'm not going to tell you some of this, because it's actually better that you don't know. But these are good. They're real. The man is dead. That's all that you need to know. You've only been in the country for the last two months. My how your English has improved!"

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Stacey McCutcheon sat on a bench in the shade of a huge oak tree sipping her bottle of water and admiring the parkland scene – or appearing to.

She tossed her blonde hair with a wave of her head and watched as another woman came along the paved path on rollerblades. She reached into her purse.

She didn't say anything, but she keyed a button on her radio twice. She heard the acknowledgment as a single word through the Bluetooth earphone under her hair.

"Copy."

The other woman slowed to a stop in front of her and looked across the open area to watch the kid's soccer game that was in progress there.

She didn't look at Stacey, but Stacey heard her well enough to pick up the slight eastern European accent.

"The other side of this rise behind me," she said, "twenty minutes. Head for the big chestnut tree out in the open there."

Stacey couldn't believe that this woman was changing the meet. She shook her head, but the woman looked to be absorbed in the game. She wasn't even looking.

"You can't do this," the blonde said, "Who do you think you are? This was set up two weeks ago..."

She carried on until the woman said something quietly.

"What did you say?"

"I said," the black-haired woman with the long pony tail repeated – still not looking at her, "Just what kind of idiots are you people here? That's your boy out there, right? The little blonde guy? Cute as anything, number 12?"

"Yes," Stacey nodded, paying a lot of attention now.

"If you live through this, Stacey, don't ever bring your child to something like this ever again. You're playing with his life. My people made him when you kissed him before his game started. How do you know that we wouldn't snatch him?"

She turned then and dropped a pair of photographs onto the blonde's lap.

"The top picture is what's left of your spy," she said, "I did him myself. The bottom one, ... anybody look familiar?"

She was staring at three bodies and she recognized them all. They were half of her security on this. She'd been speaking to them less than thirty minutes ago.

"The rest are on their way out," the woman said. Looking back at Staceys now-wide eyes, she smiled as though they were talking about the weather.

"Yes, I know that you were expecting somebody else for this. But you guys started this by sending in Stefan there to infiltrate us. That's how you rate meeting me today." She turned to go.

"Chestnut tree, ten minutes. Your asshole handlers don't give a shit about you and even less about your baby out there. Meet me under the tree while my guys keep your cutie out there safe and I'll make sure that he gets you back after this. He's as safe as he was as a fuzzy whelp in your arms seven years ago. By now, you're the only one left on your side."

"Don't fuck this up, Stacey. I WANT you and your little guy to live happily ever after."

She skated away.

"So," the woman said eight minutes later under the tree, "In spite of this, I'm happy to meet you. But I think you ought to take a good look at things, because this shit here points to a lot of what's wrong."

She looked over her sunglasses at Stacey. "You were told to put your kid there today. I know that. It ought to tell you something. You're a pureblood, proud and in chains that your own clan put on you because you weren't born to high enough parents. I've read the file we have on you and you do good work, but you're not going anywhere – ever. And no matter how well you do your job, you'll never get more than the six that you had here for a screen to keep you alive. They didn't even put anybody on Junior, did they? They're risking your whelp as part of your cover and they didn't even cover him."

"By the way," the woman said, "pull your wire now. I want to see it and there's nobody listening right now since we're jamming it. I just need to talk to you and not have to choose my words."

Stacey stared for a second, but laid her radio on the ground. The woman picked it up and threw it as far as she could. Turning back, she took her sunglasses off. "It's my accent, isn't it? I said, take off your wire or I'll take it off for you."

Stacey opened her blouse and pulled off the microphone and the transmitter with a grimace. The adhesive tape hurt her nipples as it came off. Ponytail threw that into the weeds as well.

"Now," the ponytail said, "I know that this was considered high priority, this meeting here. And they sent you out this light – six males for a pureblood to a meeting that they KNEW would be a risk. I'm only a poor turned werewolf and I'm here with twenty-two, and loaded for a heavy fight right here in the park if it has to be. On my side of the street, you do good, you get resources. End of story. How blue your tail is doesn't mean shit to us."

"Now that we're here and nobody's watching or listening, I want to give you my card. There's an email on the back. If you want out after this, send me something about soccer. I don't care what, and I'll know and I'll try to contact you if I can. How you get it past your handlers is your problem. Maybe stuff it in your bra under a boob or something. They're really not that bright, but you never know. Or you can hand it in to them, but if they try to set me up, you'll die for it, so use your head no matter what you do."

"But I want you to think about something; you come work for us, and your baby stays out of gunsights because he'll be playing soccer where there's no garbage like this here. On my side of the street, a whelp's life means something. On your side, well it all depends on how many have to kiss his daddy's ass, doesn't it?"

"Now I'm going to tell you what we want. You'll tell your people, and I already know that they'll do the wrong thing. We approached your clan with wide-open arms. They responded by sending an idiot to infiltrate us. Knowing that we'd be just a bit pissed, they sent you out like a lamb to talk to me. It doesn't get much more callous or stupid, Stacey. You're worth more to me than you are to them. I hope you can see that."

"One last thing before we start and it's a short list." She handed Stacey a small pile of photographs.

"Be sure to hand these over," she said, "These are only copies, but those are the heads of four clans which we consider more powerful than yours. They did the wrong thing too. Their clans are allied with the Kaze now anyway – but these guys here didn't make it. I nailed every one of them to the floor myself."

She looked at Stacey to be sure that she understood. "Every one, Stacey. Through the heart. Those four were worth two hundred k to me in bonuses on my contract. I make good money turning stupid into ashes. If anything happens to you or your angel back there because of this, I'll hang your boss by his balls just for fun."

She leaned forward with a warm smile, "It's a pleasant thought, no? I even know how you are treated."

"So," she said, "Here's what you'll tell your boss..."