Justice Ch. 07: From the Grave

...

I looked around the room after the dizziness and waves of nausea passed. I saw open books and scrolls, and a computer with three large monitors on a desk full of paper. Adrestia handed me a cup of aromatic tea.

"This will help the nausea pass," she said. I accepted the hot cup and took a tentative sip.

"This is delicious. Thank you," I said. "It seems to be helping."

"I'm glad to hear that. It's my own special blend. Transitioning from one dimension to another can be fairly... unnerving," Adrestia replied.

"Where are we?" I asked, looking around the cluttered office.

"My home office," she said. Just then, the door opened and a well-built man in a trench coat and fedora entered the room. He kissed her on the lips, and I felt the love they shared fill the room.

"Who is this?" the man asked after they broke their kiss.

"This is Olivia Coleman," Adrestia said. "Olivia, this is my husband, Max."

"A pleasure to meet you, Olivia," Max said with a warm smile as he offered his hand.

"A pleasure to meet you as well, Max," I replied. He turned back to Adrestia.

"I'm heading out - I need to catch a flight to Baltimore," he told her.

"Wouldn't you rather I..."

"No, thanks. I'll do this the old-fashioned way if you don't mind," he told her. "I'll let you know if I need a quick exit, though."

"All right," Adrestia said. "Go get 'em, tiger," she added with a kiss and a smile.

"I will," he said. "Love you."

"Love you too. Let me know when you get there."

"Count on it. You two have a good day," he said before leaving the room. Adrestia sighed as she looked at the space her husband just occupied, then turned back to me.

"So, Olivia. How is your relationship with your birth mother?" she asked.

"I dunno," I said as I shrugged my shoulders. "Okay, I guess."

"Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?" Adrestia asked with a knowing smile. I chuckled at that. "Seriously. How are things between the two of you?"

"To be honest, I really don't know. I'm gone a lot, so I don't get to see her as much as I'd like. And when I do see her, I have to be very careful to call her either Anita or 'Ms. Coles' around other people. It's not exactly the way I imagined it would be," I said sadly.

"What do the two of you talk about?" Adrestia asked.

"Not much, really. Sometimes we talk shop, but not very often. She's tried to hook me up with guys a few times, but that hasn't really worked out too well. They're not my type and they tend to run away when they find out what I do."

"Yes, I can see how guys who work in an office might be intimidated by a strong, accomplished female Army sniper with a Combat Infantryman's Badge and a pair of jump wings," Adrestia laughed.

"Especially when I remind them I can blow their balls off at 800 yards," I joked, causing Adrestia to laugh in return.

"I like you, Olivia Coleman," Adrestia said when she calmed down. "In some ways, you remind me a little bit of me. So, what's your love life like if you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't. There really isn't much there. I haven't been with anyone who really does it for me. You know what I mean? For one thing, I'm always on the go, so I really don't have the time to develop a relationship. There is one guy I'd like to get to know better, but we sometimes work together, so it wouldn't work out."

"I think I understand," Adrestia said with a knowing smile. "What else do you and your birth mother talk about?"

"We've talked a bit about my inheritance. She can't imagine that I've made it this far without buying all kinds of expensive toys or clothes. And she certainly doesn't understand why I joined the Army. I've tried to explain it to her, but I think it just goes in one ear and back out the other."

"Has she ever asked you for money?" Adrestia asked.

"A couple of times," I said. "She has this place over in Georgetown, and she drives a fancy BMW. Then there's the clothes and all the accessories. She says she has to maintain an appearance. I honestly don't know how she manages it on her federal salary." I thought about what I had just said and my uneasiness toward my mother kicked up another notch.

"How much did you give her?" Adrestia continued to probe.

"One time was $2,000. She said she needed it for some work at her place. Another time was $1,500. That was for car repairs, she said. I had the money, so I gave it to her. She promised to pay me back, but I told her not to worry about it."

"Uh huh," Adrestia replied thoughtfully. "Has she ever suggested that she should've gotten part of your father's estate?"

"Yes, she has mentioned that a time or two," I answered, trying but failing to keep the irritation and slowly building unease out of my voice. "But I reminded her that it was her own actions that led Dad to write her out of his will."

"And how did she take that?" Adrestia persisted.

"Not very well, but she couldn't deny it." Then something hit me like a ton of bricks. "You know, we have to sign a will whenever we go out on an operation. Just in case something happens. There have been several times that she suggested I include her." I remembered the last time; the one for this very operation. "Suggested very strongly," I finished, sourly.

"And?"

"I refused. I split it all between my family," I shot back. I wasn't mad at Adrestia, but I was sorely vexed at myself for blowing off all suspicions just because she was my birth mother. "It pissed her off, but I figured that if Dad wanted her to have any of that money, he would've given some to her."

"Interesting," Adrestia said thoughtfully. I could see her mind working, as was mine. Almost like we were shooting down the same set of rapids together. She looked at me, her brows arched. "You wish to ask me a question," she stated.

"Yes. Who are you - really? How is it you can do all of this?" I asked.

"I suppose you have a right to know," Adrestia said. "Let me show you."

With that, she placed her hands on the sides of my head. My mind was suddenly filled with wild images - a tall, blindfolded woman in a long toga with scales and a double-edged sword. I recognized the woman as being Adrestia.

Underneath her sandal-clad feet were snakes. She loomed over a vast plain with nowhere to hide. Legions of people surrounded her, on their knees, half of them crying out for justice and the other half begging for mercy.

Winged beings flew in the background, and I saw a tall mountain with the top soaring to a dizzying height and covered by clouds. Lightning flew across the skies, and its thunder seemed to shake the world. The images disappeared when she removed her hands, and I stared at her face in shock.

"I have been called many things by many cultures over the years," Adrestia said simply. "The ancient Greeks saw me as the Goddess of Retributive Justice. I have also been called Nemesis and Tyr. I have judged many people like your birth mother over the years. Only one has ever escaped my justice, and that was quite by accident."

"Who was that?" I asked.

"His name was Baalak. We were once quite... close. You need not concern yourself about him, however."

"I've never heard that name before. What did he do?" I heard myself asking.

"He wanted to subjugate the entire planet to his sick perverted will," Adrestia said heavily. "He nearly succeeded."

"Where is he now?"

"Someplace very... warm," Adrestia replied sadly. For just a moment her presence felt as old as she had revealed she was. Just then, her computer dinged. Adrestia stepped around her desk and looked to see what had come in. She nodded in satisfaction, the darkness inside her set aside with a thought. "Cameron Drake is calling. Let's see what he has to say."

The large monitor on her wall came to life, and I found myself looking at the "waiter" from the video we watched earlier, though he was dressed in a quite relaxed manner now. Adrestia settled into her chair and addressed the man.

"Hello, Cameron," she said. "How are Ginger and the kids?"

"Doing wonderfully, thanks for asking," Cameron said, easily. "Is this Olivia?" he asked, looking at me curiously. I found it difficult to look him directly in the face as the gold flecks in his eyes made me feel... uncomfortable. I didn't know if that was some deeply human instinct or my Army training... anything you didn't understand was potentially very dangerous.

"Yes, this is her. Olivia, this is Cameron Drake."

"Hello, Olivia," Cameron said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Good to meet you as well," I carefully replied.

"I've sent you the complete files on both of the targets," Cameron told Adrestia. "I've bookmarked several memories I think you will find useful. For what it's worth, Adrestia, I believe these two are worthy of your... special talents if you know what I mean."

"I think so too, Cameron. Thank you for this. It will save me a lot of time. How much do these files cover?"

"Their whole lives," Cameron said. "Memories, thoughts, you name it. Everything. And a lot of it's not pretty. The female subject has over 13 years dealing with various federal agencies, and there's still some old state charges that have never been pursued." He paused. "Make that seducing, subverting, and corrupting the heads of various federal agencies," he amended darkly. "It seems she used her... physical attributes... to get to where she is now if you know what I mean."

"I understand," Adrestia said. "Thank you again, Cameron."

"My pleasure, Adrestia. Let me know if there's anything more you need."

"I will, but I think this will suffice," Adrestia replied. They ended the communication, and I watched as Adrestia did something on her computer. She frowned, then turned to me. "Olivia, take a look at this," she said. I walked around and looked at her monitor, but I wasn't sure what it was I was watching.

"What is this?" I asked.

"It's a memory dated two weeks before your team left." Adrestia started the video, and I watched my birth mother sitting in Douglas' lap. It took everything I had to keep from losing whatever was in my stomach. I imagined that even Adrestia's tea couldn't help with this.

Both of them were nude and engaged in sex, but I found nothing remotely erotic about it. She wasn't exactly in the best shape and was beginning to sag. Douglas was younger, but he looked like he hadn't lifted anything heavier than a cocktail glass, and his spindly pale frame disgusted me.

"Well, lover, did you get everything set up?" Anita/Anne asked.

"Yes. Everything is set to go," Douglas replied. "Papa Charlie has agreed to your gracious offer, and the USS Idaho is set to drop the team off. Once Olivia agrees to pay the ransom, I will put a hold on her account, and make the exchanges electronically. Nothing will be tied back to you."

"Good boy," the older woman cooed. "And Charlie knows that Olivia is not to be harmed?"

"Yes, he knows. At least until after we verify the funds have been moved. After that, he is free to do as he wishes with her."

"Excellent. And the rest of the team?" she asked as she squirmed in his lap.

"Collateral damage. Shit happens, right?" Douglas sneered.

"Yes, it does. Especially in our business. Of course, we will disavow their existence."

"Naturally," Douglas agreed. "It's a hard, cruel world out there, and any number of mercenaries come to bad ends every day." He shook his head. "I still don't see why you just didn't want me to arrange to have her killed or trafficked off to someone only interested in snuffing. You certainly know someone who could forge her e-document will and leave yourself the entire inheritance."

She shook her head and then wiggled on his lap and my stomach writhed again. "No. Her adoptive father and lawyer are not without some pretty high-level connections, and they would be sure to kick up an almighty fuss about Olivia leaving millions and millions to her boss.

"That could bring to light some things that are better left hidden, like my real identity and the extracurricular activities I use to increase my retirement fund. After all, one does not retire in luxury on a government pension alone."

He shrugged and nodded acceptance of her logic, but his eyes were on her swaying breasts, and he seemed almost hypnotized by the saggy pendulums.

"Now, give me some of that cock, you magnificent man," my birth mother whispered in a sultry voice.

"Turn it off," I hissed, my stomach churning wildly. "TURN IT OFF! NOW!"

Adrestia stopped the video and looked at me, saying nothing. I couldn't believe the woman who gave birth to me, the woman I now worked for, had schemed to betray me this way. After I had warned her not to.

As far as I was concerned, she was no longer my birth mother, and at that moment, I wanted to kill the bitch with my bare hands, rather than a 220-grain hollow point propelled by one of my custom loads.

The men who had fought beside me, my teammates, were just 'collateral damage' to her? She would betray her country's warriors for some numbers on her personal balance sheet? She'd leave Ryan a bullet-riddled corpse on the other side of the world for MONEY? I SEETHED.

Just then, Adrestia's computer dinged again. We looked and saw a message pop up on her screen: "Papa Charlie in custody, Hard Rock Jail. Have phone. Will be there momentarily."

"Meet me in the Gallery," Adrestia wrote back before speaking.

"What would you like to do about your birth mother?" she asked.

"I want to nail her soft, slimy ass to the wall," I snarled. Adrestia smiled broadly at that.

"Good! I think we can arrange that," she said. "Come with me. There's something I think you should see."

"What?" I asked.

"Your mother's future residence," Adrestia replied, her eyes flashing. Somehow she looked less human and far more powerful with each passing moment. The memory she had shown me came back crystal clear, and I knew in my gut exactly why some of the figures I saw in my mind were begging for mercy. She stood and looked at me. "Ready?" she asked.

"Sure," I said, standing up. I followed her out of the office and down several flights of stairs. We reached what I suspected was the ground floor of her gothic mansion, and I continued following her into a large wood-paneled room. We crossed the room to a set of high double doors.

"Before we go inside, I should warn you. Do not touch any of the portraits you see. Under NO circumstances. Some of them are very old and touching them could have... eternal... consequences. Do you understand?" Adrestia asked with utter seriousness.

"Not completely, but I'll do as you say," I said, fighting an urge to clasp my hands behind me, like a nervous kindergartener on a field trip to a glass museum.

"Good enough," Adrestia said, swiping a key card over a reader. I heard the click of a lock, and the double doors opened on their own. As we stepped inside, the lights flickered on.

The first thing I saw was Eli, standing in the middle of the corridor. He nodded gravely at me, then addressed Adrestia.

"Sorry for running a little late. I needed to change mah shirt. I took this off of Papa Charlie," he said, handing a phone to Adrestia.

"Thank you," she said, taking the phone. We walked inside and I saw row upon row of portraits on the walls, extending almost as far as the eye could see. Many of them looked to be quite old.

There were people from all walks of life depicted on the walls, all of them in some form of dire distress. One portrait showed a screaming woman falling into the open maw of a giant shark. Another showed three women chained to a rock overlooking a large expanse of storm-whipped water.

"What is this?" I asked.

"This is my gallery," Adrestia said sternly. "These are the people I have judged over the years."

"Are they all dead?" I asked.

"For many, their physical bodies have long since ceased to function. But their essence, or spirit, remains, locked here in these portraits for all time. Or until their portraits fade at the end of time itself. Until then, they will experience the final moments of their lives over and over and OVER again," Adrestia said.

Shuddering, I looked around, walking down the corridor until I came to an empty space that held a placard: "Reserved for Anne Coleman/Anita Coles." I looked at Adrestia, confused.

"Yes, Olivia. That space has already been reserved for your birth mother," Adrestia said, searching my face intently as if I were undergoing some kind of test.

"This is where she'll be for the rest of time?" I asked.

"Yes," Adrestia answered, and there was just a trace of sadness in her voice.

I looked around at the other portraits around the space reserved for her and nodded my head.

"At least she'll be surrounded by people like her," I stated coldly.

"Indeed," Adrestia agreed, glancing at Eli. "Let's go back to my office."

We left the strange gallery and returned to Adrestia's office, where she made another pot of tea.

"Mind if I... smoke?" Eli asked. Although I didn't smoke, I had been around enough smokers by now that I didn't let the odor bother me too much.

"No, that's fine," I said, shaking my head.

He took one in his mouth, then offered one to me. Again, I shook my head.

"No thanks, I don't smoke," I said.

"It's all right. They're my own special blend. Based on Adrestia's tea. Go on. One won't hurt," he insisted.

I looked at the pack, marked "JOP," then thought, what the hell? I took one and watched as Eli scraped a match on his jeans. He held it as I lit the cigarette, and I was surprised when I didn't choke. I was even more surprised that it didn't smell like any cigarette I had ever encountered. Adrestia gave me another cup of tea, and I found myself feeling quite relaxed after a few sips.

"Feel better now?" Adrestia asked after a few quiet moments.

"Yes, much better. Thanks," I said. "By the way, can you find out how Ryan is doing?"

"Sure," Adrestia said. She pulled out her tablet and looked for a few moments before responding. "He's out of surgery and is recovering. From what I can tell, the medics seem to think he'll pull through. He's lost a lot of blood, and he'll be going through some rehab, though. He may, or may not, be up for future field work. I cannot tell."

"Thank God," I moaned, relieved. "Would it be possible to get a message to him?"

"That might take some work, but I think I can pull that off," Adrestia said mildly. "Do you know what you want to say?"

"Yeah," I told her, grabbing an empty sheet of paper. Adrestia handed me a pen, and I wrote the message before handing it to her. "It's coded," I said when I saw her confused expression. "Ryan will understand, and he'll know it's from me."

"Okay," Adrestia said. "I take it your teams use satellite phones in the field?"

"Yes," I told her.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll get this off," she said.

I watched her work as I sipped my tea and smoked the cigarette Eli gave me. I found the combination to be more than relaxing - I felt... invigorated. I also felt a bit hypocritical, as I had always been adamantly opposed to smoking. I felt Eli's eyes watching me, so I turned to him.

"You said you fought in the Civil War," I said. He nodded his head, so I continued. "What unit were you in?"

"Eighth Regiment of Indiana Cavalry," he said. "It was originally the 39th Regiment of Infantry but got redesignated. I was with the unit from the beginning, in 1861. Got shot at the Battle of Brown's Mill in 1864. Right here," he added, pointing at the center of his chest.

"Were you married?" I asked.

"Yeah, with two young boys," he said.

"It must've been hard on your wife," I said.

"It was. But the whole family chipped in. She made it, then came home to be with me about the turn of the century."

"You're still together?" I asked, shocked.

"Yep," Eli replied, nodding his head. "We wouldn't have it any other way."