Greater Love

"Here is the settlement we're offering. Since you have not made a counter offer, I assume it is satisfactory. Mrs. Fellmuth is not asking for separate maintenance and is not interested in any joint assets. Despite advice of counsel, she asks only for her personal belongings, most of which have already been removed from the marital home. We believe this is more than fair, so let's not prolong the unpleasantness. Just sign off and we can get on with..."

"I know what you're trying to pull." Dan interrupted. He was ignoring Patterson and looking directly at Conroy. Conroy was unabashed and simply looked amused.

"I'm not pulling anything. I'm only here to support Molly through this ordeal." He looked smug, running his hand up and down her back as if to comfort her. "You should direct your concerns to Molly's attorney."

Patterson jumped back in.

"Just sign or initial both copies where indicated and..."

Dan turned to Conroy's flunky and said in very measured tones.

"Shut the fuck up. When the conditions of this meeting are met, we'll get back to you."

Dan's outburst took everyone by surprise. Chris couldn't suppress a smile. This was the side of Dan that came out on the mats. This could get interesting. Molly was stunned. This was not the mild mannered Danny she knew whose harshest vocabulary consisted of heck and doggone it. Patterson was nonplussed. He glanced at his boss and arched an eyebrow. Conroy had briefed him to watch out for Matthews who had a reputation as a junkyard dog in a scrap. Fellmuth, he'd been told, was a pussy and would probably cry through the whole proceedings. Conroy was irritated at underestimating Daniel, but had his game face on -- the one he wore in court. He wasn't known as a man you didn't want to play poker with for nothing.

"The condition for signing the divorce settlement," Dan continued, "was that I have a face to face meeting with my wife. I had asked for a private meeting, but it is no surprise to me that Mark here would insinuate himself into our business. He's afraid I'll do to him what he did to me. Right, Mark?"

"The name is Marcus - Mr. Conroy to you," came the cold reply. "Not even my friends call me Mark."

"That's because you have no friends Mark."

"Daniel!" Molly jumped in before Conroy could retort. "That's untrue and uncalled for. It's not like you to be so mean. You can at least call Marcus by his real name."

"Wow, Mol. It takes a lot of nerve to call me mean after what you and Mark pulled."

Molly blushed furiously but refused to look contrite.

"I guess he never told you. I'm calling your boyfriend Mark because that is his real name -- Mark Allan Conroy."

Dan extracted a sheet of paper from the first file folder at his elbow and pushed the document across the table.

"That's his birth certificate. He started using Marcus Adrian Conroy when he entered college. Apparently Mark Allan was just too humble for an ambitious pre-law student."

Anticipating Molly's comeback, Dan went on.

"As for my other comment, Mark has business associates, sycophants, employees, clients, people who he pretends to care about based on what they can do for him, trophy wives and mistresses. What he doesn't have are friends, people he actually does care about, people whose well-being are as important as his own, people he'll make sacrifices for."

A sheaf of papers was pulled out of another file folder and pushed across the table.

"Here's Mark's college essay on Ayn Rand and her philosophy of living only for oneself. To have friends, to risk feeling affection for someone, you have to trust them. When your life is all about self-interest, you can't afford to trust anyone. You can't trust because you assume that everyone else is only out for number one. Only an idiot or a fool would trust another human being. Says so right here on page three. Right, Mark?"

"So what? It's in our mutual self-interest to be together. I can provide a life style for Molly that you can't even imagine. While you waste time trying to help whiners and losers who refuse to help themselves, I'm giving Molly what she deserves. She's a great companion; beautiful, smart, charming, ambitious and very talented."

Conroy leered at Daniel, making it clear what kind of talents interested him.

"If you really loved Molly, you'd have chosen to be more successful so you could give Molly what she needs." Conroy finished as if he was delivering closing arguments at trial.

"Is this what love means to you, Mol? You abandoned me without an explanation. All I got was a note that said since I stopped loving you, you were leaving me for someone else. Is Mark right Molly?"

She couldn't meet his eyes staring instead at her hands locked together in her lap.

"So, you decided Mark loves you and I don't because he can buy you more crap than I can? You think he loves you because he likes to show you off to all his rich and powerful cronies?"

"Danny, I didn't want to hurt you."

"Well you did a piss poor job of that. You think never discussing something this important with me didn't hurt? You think disappearing without an explanation didn't hurt? You think when I inevitably found out that you two'd been screwing behind my back for months it didn't hurt. You think avoiding all of my attempts to contact you just to get an explanation didn't hurt?"

Molly shot a questioning look at Conroy. He just smirked.

"Danny, I left you because it was clear you didn't love me. If you'd taken better care of me, if you'd tried to make something of yourself so I wouldn't feel ashamed to be seen with you, maybe we could have made it. I'm sorry I never got any of your messages. I just assumed you were ok with things. Besides, Marcus shows me every day how much he cares for me in ways you never could."

Dan leaned forward shaking his head.

"Molly, apparently you don't even know the definition of love. If I didn't love you, we wouldn't be here today. I'd have signed your damn papers and said good riddance. I wouldn't be trying to save you from the worst mistake of your life. You're being manipulated by a man who doesn't care about anybody but himself. Mark doesn't care about you, only what you can do for him. He doesn't love you; he's bought you."

"Damn you, Daniel." Molly spat. "Marcus said you'd try something like this. You're just trying to confuse me and drive a wedge between us. You just want me back so you don't feel like a failure, so you have someone to take care of you. This is all about your ego. I'm done being your maid."

"Well, he certainly has you well briefed, Molly. You've got your testimony down pat. Now it's time for the cross examination. We'll see who really cares; assuming Mark follows through on making you wife number four."

Molly huffed, raised her eyes and looked disdainfully at Daniel.

"There. It just shows how little you know about us. Marcus has already proposed," Molly triumphantly held up her left hand with an impressive engagement ring already in place. "and he has only been married twice, both times to gold diggers who were just after his money."

A triumphant grin spread across Daniel's face. As he turned to the pile of file folders, concern replaced Molly's smugness and a crack appeared in Conroy's bland visage. He recognized when the other side was about to spring a trap. Before he could interject, Dan began dealing file folders across the table.

"Here are copies of the pre-nups signed by former Mrs. Conroys number two and number three. If they were gold diggers, they were stupid enough to sign these and left the marriages without a dime. Here's the marriage certificate for Mark Allan Conroy and Cynthia Marie Wilkins. Mark was 21 and Cynthia was 16. I know it was a shotgun wedding, but it still counts."

Conroy was now visibly upset.

"That was annulled. In the eyes of the law, it never happened." He growled.

"How convenient. I doubt Cynthia felt that way. Is that when you decided to become an attorney? Was it watching that cut-throat lawyer your parents hired to tear your wife apart that caught your interest? Did you get off on that?"

"You don't know anything you bastard. You've got no business mucking around in my private life."

"Oh, like you mucked around in our private life? Did you even pause a nanosecond before you decided to go after the cute, MARRIED paralegal that your firm had just hired? How about the way you mucked up Cynthia's private life when you knocked her up? You weren't even man enough to step up and take responsibility. Even though Cynthia came from a poor family on the wrong side of the tracks, your parents arranged the marriage to avoid a scandal and a statutory rape charge. Then, after the miscarriage, you saw an opportunity."

Dan leaned forward and stared into Conroy's eyes. Conroy shifted uncomfortably. He was always the one on the attack. He did not like being on the receiving end at all.

"You started a whisper campaign with some of your buddies to trash Cynthia's reputation. Rumors went around that she was a slut and they'd all had her. The baby could have been anyone's. Just like a good lawyer; create reasonable doubt. That's what the shyster used to get the marriage annulled. The Wilkins couldn't afford to get the baby exhumed and have the DNA tested.

Meanwhile, poor Cynthia depressed over the death of her baby; abandoned by the boy who stole her virginity by pledging his undying love; rejected and tormented by her peers; unable to hold her head up in town takes an overdose of antidepressants and sleeping pills."

Dan tossed file folder after file folder across the table.

"Death certificates. Affidavits from Mark's ex pals who are still ashamed about what they helped Mark do. Excerpts from Cynthia's diary. Affidavits from her parents whose marriage fell apart after the suicide."

Dan held up a folder with a big red stripe across the top. He slapped it down hard enough that Molly and Conroy both jumped.

"Certified DNA analysis that proves without a doubt that Mark Allan Conroy was the father of Mark Allan Conroy, Junior."

"How the hell could you afford to get all of this?" Conroy fumed.

Dan rested his hand on the remaining stack of folders. Molly's self-assurance began to crumble as she realized there was a lot she didn't know about the man she'd left her husband for and there could be worse to come.

"I'm in hock up to my eyeballs right now. I've spent the money I was saving for our surprise tenth anniversary trip, the college fund for our yet to be born children and my accumulated pension. But, you know what? Whether Molly reconciles with me or not, I will spend everything I have and everything I ever will have to protect her from you."

Conroy looked like he was going to have a stroke. Before he could retort, there was a scream and a loud commotion coming from the reception area. It sounded like a struggle was underway. Alarmed, Chris and Dan turned toward the door. Before anyone could get up, the conference room door slammed open and a wild eyed young man stormed into the room. In his right hand he waved a revolver. In his left, he had a handful of the receptionist's hair and was dragging her along behind him. She was stumbling, trying to stay on her feet. With a jerk, he tossed her on the floor. The enraged intruder swept the gun back and forth.

"OK mother fuckers, no one moves. I'm Ed McKinzie. This slut" He said, poking the prone woman with his toe. "is my wife. I want answers and if I don't get the answers I want, you're all going to be sorry."

Conroy had started looking for a way out as soon as the gunman had entered the room. He leaned over to Molly and whispered,

"When he isn't looking, I'm getting out of here." He jerked his head toward the senior partner's office door. "Try to keep up."

"You! Shut the fuck up."

Conroy sat back putting his hands up in a placating gesture. All color drained from his face as he found himself looking into the pistol's muzzle.

"I want to know who's been fucking my wife and for how long."

When no one answered, the look of rage intensified.

"Please, Ed, you're the only one I've ever been with. I promise." Karen whispered.

"Shut up whore. I know you've been fucking your boss. Working late my ass. And now you've taken my kid and run off to be with him."

"No. It's not like that. I tried to tell you..."

"I said shut up, whore."

McKinzie aimed a vicious kick at his wife. Anticipating the attack, she'd curled up and took the blow on her arm instead of her ribs or stomach.

"If I hear another word out of your cheating mouth before I ask for it, I'll blow your whoring ass away." Spit was flying from his mouth as he screamed at her.

Dan and Chris exchanged glances. Both had jaws clenched in anger. An understanding passed between them. They'd try to calm him down, but if it looked like he was about to shoot they'd do their best to take him down.

"Alright, which one of you mother fuckers is Matthews?"

He again aimed the gun at Conroy who vigorously shook his head and waved his hand at the pair across the table. The gun next came to rest on Dan who refused to answer. As McKinzie's grip began to tighten, Chris spoke.

"That would be me. I'm Chris Matthews."

As the gunman turned his attention to Chris, his eyes grew wide and his mouth gaped open. He glanced at his wife who nodded her head.

'What the fuck?"

With McKinzie distracted, Conroy made his move. Tossing his chair against the wall, he bolted. As he'd hoped, the gunman turned toward the sound. Startled, Molly jumped to her feet. Catching the motion, the gunman swung his weapon to center on her chest. Even if she'd tried to follow, it wouldn't have mattered. Conroy had slammed the door shut behind him.

What followed was a blur. It was only later, when she could replay the event in her head that she understood. The intruder was screaming.

"You fucking cunt. You bitches are all alike. You never do what you're told."

She could see McKinzie's finger tighten on the trigger. Someone shouted "No!" Something blocked her view. There was a bang. Then she felt a blow as if she'd been punched in the chest. It knocked the breath from her and caused her to stagger back a step. Frantically looking down, she noticed a smudge on her blouse and a spent bullet at her feet. There would be a nasty bruise later but the round had not even penetrated the flimsy fabric.

Relieved to be unharmed, Molly looked up to see someone standing between her and the gunman. There was a spreading stain on the back of his shirt. As he slumped to the floor, she saw the surprised look on McKinzie's face and another blur as Chris launched herself at him.

McKinzie rarely listened to his wife and refused to believe half of what he did hear. It left him totally unprepared to discover his wife's boss was a woman. He was still coming to grips with that when the noise as Conroy bolted for the door caught his attention. Catching motion, he brought his pistol to bear on the only target left. Molly's fright left her frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Damn bitches he thought. They all cheat and none of them would do what you told them to. His finger began to tighten on the trigger.

Everything seemed to happen in a split second. Someone shouted "No!" Just as his finger tightened, something obscured his target. The gun fired with a sharp crack. He was startled to realize that where a woman had stood in his sights, there was now a man with a shocked look on his face and a spreading blood stain on his chest. The man started to slump, but before he hit the floor McKinzie found himself fighting for control of his gun

Just as her dad had taught her, Chris gripped the gun with both hands. McKinzie was taken by surprise, but Chris' audacity soon rekindled his rage. He tried to shake her grip, but she held on like a pit bull. McKinzie tried firing again, but she'd worked her thumb behind the trigger and had a death grip on the cylinder. Unable to turn, a fresh shell could not be brought into firing position.

He'd been facing Chris when the commotion started, so his right arm was extended out to the side aiming at the bitch who was going to run. He tried to reach around with his left hand, but Chris simply moved to the side avoiding his grasp. Infuriated, McKinzie yanked his arm back as hard as he could. Instead of resisting or stumbling as he expected, Chris pushed hard and advanced in a shuffling gait to stay on her feet. Thrown off balance himself, he stumbled back one step, then two banging into the credenza. His free arm flailed to keep his balance.

Fully enraged now, he pushed back trying to regain control. He met with no resistance and sailed past Chris as she pivoted under his now outstretched arm. She pulled his gun hand back hard and locked his elbow with her forearm. Dropping her weight on the joint sent excruciating pain shooting up his arm. With a yelp he went to one knee, then found himself face down on the floor.

"Let go of the gun or I'll break your God damned arm." Chris snarled.

She'd replaced her forearm with her knee using the extra leverage to pull even harder. When he refused to let go, Chris gave the arm a sharp tug. She could feel the elbow snap with an audible pop. McKinzie wailed. The pain was intolerable and his grip on the gun faltered. He felt it stripped from his hand, taking a fair amount of skin with it. People often passed out from having their elbow broken, but McKenzie was in a berserker rage.

"You fucking bitch. I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you!"

He struggled to get up, but his right arm was pinned and useless. Any time he moved, Chris put pressure on his shattered elbow. The pain was paralyzing. Then he felt the pistol's barrel pressed against the base of his skull.

"You just shot my best friend and one of the finest men I've ever known. Give me an excuse to splatter your brains all over this office. Karen, call 911."

Her assistant was already out the door.

Time began to return to normal. Chris was breathing hard and recognized the adrenalin rush she'd experienced in hard fought matches. It had all taken less than half a minute, but every detail would be forever etched in her memories. She glanced over at Dan and felt her first stab of fear.

"Molly, help Daniel." Chris commanded.

Molly was still looking at her chest and the spent bullet between her feet. When it registered what had happened, she began to shake.

"MOLLY! Snap out of it. Help Daniel God damn it!"

Her mind a blank, Molly obeyed. She stumbled around the conference table and froze. Dan smiled when he saw her.

"You ok?" Molly nodded.

He was slumped against a chair and seemed to be losing color as she watched. She didn't know what to do. Dribbles of blood kept spurting from his wound. His breathing was raspy and blood began to appear at the corner of his mouth. Looking at Chris, Dan whispered,

"Karen OK?"

"She's OK. Help's on the way. Just hang on." Chris tried to reassure him. Dan's eyes swept across the scene. Chris still had one knee crushing McKenzie's elbow with her back foot firmly planted so she could spring back if necessary. The pistol was in the standard two-handed grip unwaveringly aimed at McKenzie's head. Her eyes never left her prisoner.

"You OK?" Dan managed to get out between labored breaths.

Trying to encourage him, Chris replied.

"Were you ever able to get out of one of my joint locks?"

Dan's weak attempt at a chuckle only brought more blood to his lips. He winced as a hoarse cough brought up more blood.

Molly had knelt next to Danny. She whimpered.

"What do I do?

Chris took a quick glance and felt jolt of fear. Gently but firmly, she instructed her.

"Molly, lay Dan down and put pressure on his wound."

Molly pushed away the chair Danny was leaning against and gently eased him to the floor. When she hesitated, Chris added,