Leviathan

"I know that will come soon enough, but if I'm leaving you, I would like to know who you are."

"We're friends. Will that satisfy you for the moment?" the voice said from the darkness. "The doctor informs me that as soon as he triggers your memory with your name, it will all come back to you."

The man tried to peer into the inky blackness beyond the foot of his bed. He could barely see the darker shape as it stood against the far wall. Then the voice emerged again from the darkness.

"You are going home. I just wanted to tell you before your departure that I am a great admirer of yours, and of the men and women for whom you work." The female voice hesitated, then continued. "When you get home, tell your people you were treated well and that you were dealt with respectfully. In a few months, my wish is that I may still be able to call you friend. The doctor will now explain where you are, and who you are."

The door opened. The bright light flared once more, and the woman left the room. The man could see she was tall, at the very least six feet; she was dressed in dark green and her hair was jet-black, but that was all he saw before the door closed.

"It's not often that she would grace someone she doesn't know by speaking to them. But then again, I should have thought she would. I'll tell you this much, she visited you at least three times a day. It was quite unsettling to my sleep cycle having her pop in at ungodly hours," the doctor said in an English accent.

"Who is she?" the man asked, finally sitting up on the edge of the bed.

The doctor laughed again; this time the humor came through his hardy sound.

"Who she is, at the very least, is a loaded question. Suffice it to say she springs from a family of geniuses and is, by leaps and bounds, the most brilliant human being the world has ever known. Just leave it at that." The doctor shook his head but kept the smile on his face. "When all is said and done, go away with the knowledge that she respects you. That is something you will be able to tell your grandchildren. She spoke to you and she liked you; not many can say that."

"Am I supposed to be honored?" the man asked, clinking the chain that held the handcuff in place.

"Oh, that. It was for your own protection, until your memory cleared up. We didn't exactly know how you would react when you awoke. Your ... how should I put this? Ah, your preeminence in the art of death precedes you, sir."

A spark of memory flared in the man's mind. He tilted his head and looked at the doctor.

"That's right; it's teasing you right now, isn't it?" The doctor stood, went to a closet, and pulled open a door. He reached in and removed an item from inside, then closed the door and turned. He held up a small silver key, obviously one that would unlock the handcuff. As the man examined the doctor, he saw that the white lab coat had a patch on the left-hand breast pocket. It was an L, with what looked to be two dolphins on either side, making it look like [?] L[?]. Beneath that was the symbol for a medical doctor, the twin-snake motif.

"Now, would you like to be filled in on who you are and what is expected of you? If you behave, I think we can dispense with the security measures." He went to the bed and tapped the handcuff.

5

MONTAUK POINT,

LONG ISLAND, NEW YORK

Carl Everett stood just inside of the parking area of one of the most famous lighthouses in the United States. Jason Ryan and Will Mendenhall stood on either side of him, waiting for the mysterious rendezvous to take place. Behind them sat a stretch limousine with its motor off and headlights on. They had been at the point for thirty minutes watching as the fog became thicker each passing moment they waited. The only sound that was audible through the thickening mist was the seaboard dinghies with their forlorn toll.

"Goddamn FBI, how can they plan for an entity they know absolutely nothing about?" Everett mumbled, his eyes never leaving the shoreline.

"Director Compton should have acted without presidential knowledge," Ryan said, looking to his right at the closest FBI HRT member laying low underneath the cover of a large bush. Hostage Rescue out of Quantico had been called in for the ambush, and several of them were half-buried in the rough and rocky sands of the point.

Everett turned, chanced a look at the naval lieutenant, and sniffed.

"Some people like to go by the book, Mr. Ryan, even if you don't."

"I've known Compton to toss that book away from time to time," Ryan countered.

Everett didn't respond to the challenge. He just pursed his lips and then turned up his coat collar.