Alas, Washington

She turns her back and leads him along the dimly lighted hallway to the den, which Jim has seen before, the day he toured the devastation when she called after the funeral. She is wearing a tight-fitting red silk jumpsuit, the slacks of which have bell-bottoms, and the top clings to her as though it’s skin. The suit has a zipper front from her breasts to below her waist and is parted much too far down the front to be accidental. Her long legs are accentuated because of her spike heels, which must be at least three and a half inches high, causing the muscles in her legs to quiver with each bouncing step. In the dimness of the den Jim easily remembers the desk and fireplace but not the two large brown leather couches, facing each other. The room has the aroma of fresh carpeting and new furniture. A new computer and assorted equipment are on the credenza behind the desk, along side a mahogany bar with several decanters full of alcohol accompanied by tall crystal glasses on an ornate sterling silver tray.

Katherine precedes Jim, takes a seat on the end of a couch while patting the area next to her for him to sit. He pretends not to notice and takes a seat facing her, on the other couch. She preempts his thoughts by saying, "I’ve had the room redone the week after they tore it apart. Do you like it?" She sits smiling with an arched back as though she is posing for a television commercial.

"Director Brown, you have a man in your office that we are taking into custody as I speak." Jim moves to the board, hesitates, before writing in large bold letters – YOBLINSKI. "You have another seated to your left who we will arrested at this time." Jim is staring at Bob, points, and says, "His name is Robert Yoblinski, a long time corrupt disloyal CIA employee who works for an international organization dedicated to world disorder."

Yoblinski has known for several minutes his identity and cover are about to be revealed. He chastises himself for permitting the guards to relieve him of his weapon. The fact he was not permitted to bring a weapon into this meeting should have told him not to attend. He should have left; but did not. He angrily pushes himself away from the table as his fury builds. He stands, throws his chair over the table into the center of the room and turns to face Jim. Quickly, he charges, with his head low and forward as a bull, charging for the kill. Jim is prepared, watches him come having anticipated such a reaction, having been told about the man and how he always loses his temper whenever confronted, forced to deal with pressure situations. Jim welcomes Bob’s challenge, more especially the opportunity to demonstrate his objection for Yoblinski having threatened Margo’s life. Bob rushes with such force that when they join bodily Jim is carried with him, crashing waist high into the slate blackboard with the explosive sound of a thunderous lightning strike making contact.

Ed starts to get to his feet, to help his friend, but Tom places a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. They exchange glances; as both understand it is best to let Jim do his thing; give him the satisfaction of retribution, finish the task that must be accomplished, and only by him.

Both combatants scramble to their feet, Bob again taking a posture of a charging bull, bent forward with his inner strength manifesting itself into the instinctive feeling of survival. Again he charges, but Jim is ready. Jim fakes left and then moves right with the quickness of a cat, maneuvers inches clear of the path of the on-rushing bull and grabs Yoblinski by the collar, allowing him to move past while shoving hard, causing Yoblinski to crash into the wall, head first. Visibly stunned, the snorting raging fat man climbs to his feet, staggers momentarily while he clears his head, before he charges again. This time Jim moves to meet him, gives him two quick uppercuts to the chin, avoids an overhead right, smashes a straight shot to the nose, hearing the crunch of bones before the blood appears, dripping onto Bob’s chest. Bob launches another fist, which is parried by Jim who then plants a devastating blow, this one to the mid-section where his fist almost disappears into the soft flab. There is a loud gasp with Bob trying to suck in air, his body is leaning forward as Jim raises both of his fists high into the air, directly above Bob’s shoulders to gain leverage, and then brings them down with the force of sledgehammers, past each ear against the shoulder blades of the stumbling man. Again there is the eerie sound of breaking bones, as both shoulder blades give way. Bob moans and leans forward, unable to move his arms. While he is leaning forward, Jim grabs his head and brings up a knee throwing Bob’s head up and back against the wall. Bob staggers on wobbly legs and then sinks to the floor, sitting there in a daze. All that can be heard is the mutterings from Jim, who is saying in low breath, "And that one was for torturing Andy."