Chapter Four Against the paint peeling walls of her sparsely furnished, one room apartment Sarah Wood had covered every conceivable inch of wall space with pictures of Robert Savage. Sarah now greeted those pictures like old friends as she entered her apartment struggling to unlock the door with one hand and balance a grocery bag on the other. She only had a few groceries since most of her money was earned the hard way through pick pocketing and welfare. She had a social worker that occasionally came by and even got her a job or two but Sarah rarely lasted two weeks. Everyday the pull or the movie theater down the street from her or the television which broadcast her favorite man right to her tiny apartment would over take her and she would forget about going into some crummy job that just remained her of her own small crummy life. No it was better to stay immersed in the pretty images of happy people popping out from screens big and small. Sarah prepared a package of freeze dried noodle soup and flicked on the television. Happy with perfect lives streaked in front of her. The glow off of the warm tube soothed her and she dreamily let the rays soak over her body and drain into her mind. Sam felt equally happy to be in the back of a long stretch limo. Silence, a chance to gather himself, by himself for a change. It was a nice feeling. He was apparently be taken home, or more accurately to Robert's home. He let out a sigh. He wished he was really being taken home. Straight back to Indiana. Back to the farm, to his family. Still, he thought to himself as he stretched out his legs in front of him and leaned back against the plush seats, he had to admit this was not a bad second. It was the rare leap that landed him in the lap of luxury and with time to enjoy it no less. "A well deserved bonus Sammy boy," Sam thought to himself in the emptiness of the car. All at once Sam sat bolt upright. Sammy Boy? What was that? And where did that self congratulating ego come from? Him? No, it must this Savage guy. "Boy, oh boy," Sam thought to himself, "I have got to keep on top of these little outburst. This guy must be some piece of work to have this much ego to spare." Hearing no other disturbing ego trips run through his mind for the moment Sam slunk back against the plush seats once again and let the hum of the tires lull him to sleep. Sleep was the furthest thing from Al Calavicci's mind. He paced up and down the front of the conference room where Donna, Gooshie and Beeks had gathered. They all watched silently now as Al continued his rhythmic march up and down, finally Donna broke the silence. "Al, I'm not sure that I fully understand. Sam is supposed to make sure that this person gets killed? How is that putting right what once went wrong? Are you telling me that this person's death would some how be a good thing?" Al had stopped his pacing to listen to Donna but before he could answer her Beeks spoke up. "Maybe this person is an organ donor or is responsible for a cure being found for a incurable disease. There are many examples of one death actually producing good results. Still it does seem a little strange that Sam was thrown in to this person's life only to make sure that they show up for their execution." Beeks said the last part in a quiet tone almost as if she was saying more to herself as a way of making sense of this whole mess. Al looked around the conference room. Tired, worn out expressions stared back blankly at him. Expressions of battle fatigue from people who had seen more years of combat then they would care to remember. Al shuddered slightly to think of how many scars they would all carry after this whole business was through. He could never bring himself to think of what that ending might be. He had to believe it would all come to a close with a happy ending and Sam back where he belongs but, as Al knew all to well sometimes what you want simply can not be. It was a hard lesson for him to learn after Vietnam and Beth having remarried. He could wish all he wanted but the ending was always going to remain the same. "Ah Admiral?" the squeaky voice and bad Haliotis of Gooshie broke Al's thoughts. "Is this a case of a death for the greater good?" Al cleared his throat "unfortunately it would seem that way. This guy is famous right? And Ziggy feels there is a good chance that because of his celebrity he is destined to stand as a martyr who will lead people to get behind creating new stalking laws." the original history shows that an attack did take place on the night of the MTV Music awards but, an unlucky fan who had stepped up for an autograph received the bad end of the bullet heading for Savage. Savage gave money to the family afterwards and went on to compose a song dedicated to her which stayed on the charts for 24 weeks but nothing was done to change the laws that would have allowed the police to step in much sooner on this and many cases. Everyone remained silent for a moment. Finally Donna stood up, "I just won't have it!" Al began to speak but then thought better of it. If Al knew knew nothing else in his life he knew enough not to get in the path physically or verbally of an angry woman. "Sam cannot risk his life on a chance. What if Savage does not leap in time. Is everyone here ready to accept the price of Sam for a law that may or may not work? I refuse to just sit around and wait to see if using Sam as live bait is the right way to go." Al broke in to Donna's angry questioning, "Unfortunately, we may have no other choice."