He had no reservations about telling her what he had learned from Mix’s wife. He expected her to allow her emotions to direct her actions, but he also knew that he could easily control her expressions.

“No,” he told her, “that is not the way we are going to handle this. Running off with emotions messing up your thoughts will accomplish nothing. For God’s sake, imagine what the doctors would do to Alexander if they knew we were on to them?”

Controlling her emotions had grown too easy. A simple smile now and then. Sending a cheap bouquet of flowers. A trip to wherever. A night staying at home. Simple.

He had no concern that she would break the agreement with him. She would keep quiet and let him figure it all out.

“I feel so heartbroken for him,” she said. “My son, our son, locked away like some lab rat. We need to bring him home soon. Please tell me that you will bring him home?”

“Just stick to the talking points and timeframe I gave you. You’ll have your son home with you before long.”

He knew she’d follow the plan. The few times in the past that she thought an idea of hers was better than his had always turned out poorly for her. She had too much to lose, and he knew it. She loved the life his plans had given her, and she wasn’t about to risk losing everything. She knew her place, and while she didn’t agree with the many of the methods her husband employed to get things done, she was comfortable in her place.

He couldn’t say that he still loved her, nor would he say that he despised her. She served a purpose, and he felt she served it quite well. What she couldn’t do well, or wasn’t willing to try to improve on, he had others do for him. All were paid handsomely for discretion.

Hiring Derek Cole was a stretch for him. He hadn’t the time to properly and thoroughly research Cole’s background, but the urgency of the events at the lodge in Piseco Lake demanded that he make a fast decision. The little that he did find out about his newest contractor suggested that Cole had the skills and abilities he needed to complete the job. He also uncovered what he would feel to be a tremendous weakness, one that may have to be further explored if Cole decided to live up to his “freelance” title.

Cole had abilities, that he knew for certain, but he sensed a streak of morality in Derek that could prove disruptive. Keeping Cole on task probably only demanded frequent payments and promises of additional income generating opportunities. But still, he needed him focused to one objective.

It was focus that he appreciated the most. While so many around him shifted their focus from one intention to another, achieving so little while advancing but inches in thousands of different directions, he remained on point. A single mission. One desired outcome. His flexibility allowed for course alterations, but nothing would be tolerated that pulled him off point.

The team members he assembled were all chosen for specific talents they possessed. Derek was chosen for his faithfulness and honesty. His brother had hired Derek to complete a sensitive job and raved about how well Derek completed the task.

“Cole is your guy,” his brother told him after being asked about resources able to maintain confidentiality while following specific instructions. “He’s on his own, meaning that he understands how important it is to keep his clients happy. He probably knows that if he pisses off the wrong client, his career is done.”

“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t piss me off or more than his career will be over.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

It was the idea of freedom he liked the most, being able to look out his window without reminded concerns of being seen. The doors were all his to command. His promise to keep inside was not a lock, a collar, or an iron barred window. It was just a promise, an understanding that the plan needed his cooperation in order to continue.

Multiple plans needed multiple understandings. The coordination of each plan, itself in need of a plan. He fully knew that his partners would be calling on him, one in person and the other through emissaries. Each would be expecting that their plans were being followed to the letter. Though his brother’s plan lacked direction, it was the easiest to follow. All that was needed was for him to be free, then to follow his brother’s lead. The events at the lodge and the murders in Chicago had now rendered that plan obsolete. He knew his brother was scrambling to formulate another plan, but he had no further interest in learning of it.

His father’s plan, focused solely on gain, was being dismantled piece by piece. His father had shown a surprising level of patience, which gave him pause. He wondered if he had misinterpreted the emotions driving his father’s plan and wondered, if only for a moment, if the prescribed and detailed steps contained an emotion beyond simple greed.

The plan he devised was of singular focus. One governing principle. One driving objective. There were times, multiple times, that he felt pulled to believe that his father and his brother were right and that their motives included a better life for him. He dreamed of what his life could become, with a family by his side to buffet the harsh winds of ridicule, of accusations, of fear. His dreams were consistently interrupted by the memories of Straus telling him that “no one would, no one could ever accept him.”

He was too different. Critically unique. “A subject to be studied. To be understood. To be feared.” His brief time in the world had slammed that truth home. He would never be seen as “one of us,” no matter how determined a family might be. And he grew to understand that, despite their assurances, that he would never find comfort in a non-judgmental embrace. There would be no comfort for him. No chance for shared laughter, the recollecting of made memories, or wishful longing that future plans award.

He largely ignored the looks and glances of others, though he questioned his ability to make his appearance less conspicuous. Blending in, it seemed, would be much harder than he had anticipated. Perhaps impossible. The color of his skin and the deep, foreboding color that surrounded his eyes both were too much to conceal.

Though insignificant to him, their remarks struck him hard. Callous insults, not intended to advise, but only to remind him that becoming a part of the critical mass was impossible.

“Take a bath, dude!”

“First time seeing the sun?”

“Ever hear of dentures?”