"Oh, go away!" he cried to the door. "I'm closed."
He turned back to the bar, and heard the rattling again. As he looked up, he saw three people walking towards him. He recognised the one in front, but the name didn't come straight away. The other two were women, and one of them looked quite ill. She was leaning heavily on the other.
"I locked that door," he said. "Didn't I?"
"You did," said the conscious woman. "You could do with a better lock."
"We need your help, Bo," said the man.
"Dexter!" he said, recalling the name at last. "Wh.... what are you doing here? Security are still after you."
"Well, they're going to be after me a whole lot more now. Where's the Pit clinic?"
"The.... the.... the.... what? I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do, Bo. Before I went.... underground, I listened to things. Lots of things. You know everything there is to know about Sector Three–o–one, Bo. There's a clinic around here, somewhere, run for people who haven't got anywhere else to go. They'll look after people wanted by Security. And you know where it is."
"I'm a law–abiding citizen. I don't know...."
"Bo, there's someone here who needs your help. Badly. This is a chance for you to do something good, something right. No more pandering to Trace, or Allan, or anyone else. A chance to do something good for yourself. For all of us."
"I.... might know something. Who is she anyway?"
The two women stepped forward, and Bo caught a look at the sick one for the first time. Her head was drooping and there was a misty look in her eyes, but he didn't register any of that at first.
"Holy Mother of Gandhi," he whispered. "That's.... that's.... that's...."
"Yes," said Dexter. "It is. But she's also someone who needs your help. Can you give it?"
"I.... might know.... something," he whispered. "Maybe."
Dexter smiled. "Thanks, Bo. You're doing the right thing."
"Oh, I hope so. I hope so."
Dear Victoria,
Well, I've done it now. She's free. I heard the report on the emergency frequency less than an hour ago. Naturally, I was appropriately angry. I took all the right actions, ordering full Security sweeps, a search for those responsible.... all that. It doesn't matter. They won't be found. I'm sure of it.
But I will be. I slipped up. Oh, it wasn't anything specific. I did everything as well as I could. The false IDs would have worked fine. But.... it'll be traced back to me. It's obvious even to a blind man that this couldn't have been done without help from inside, from someone very highly placed. They'll find me.
What matters is that they don't find Delenn. Maybe they won't trace things to me for a while. You never know, I might even have time to start that investigation into Sector 301 I promised Smith. Winters has the data crystal I promised, so she'll be happy.
All this is strange. I had plans at the beginning, when I got word of her capture. I could get her help, make a deal with her. It was necessary for the future of humanity. Clark's throwing us into more and more wars that aren't our concern. What do we care about the Alliance? Why did we get involved with Epsilon 3?
Delenn could have helped us. She could have spoken to the Alliance Council, forged some sort of treaty, tried to warn them, anything. With her testimony and with me in the Government here, then.... we could still salvage something from this mess. We could still save humanity.
But look at us now. I don't think we deserve to be saved.
I ordered the murder of an unborn baby for political reasons. I didn't hate him, he had never done anything to wrong me. He just had the wrong mother, and he became life at the wrong moment. That's it.
Hate me if you like, Vicky. You can't hate me worse than I hate myself now. No.... you probably wouldn't hate me. You'd sit there looking at me with those soft, deep brown eyes of yours and you'd understand. You'd understand everything and you'd forgive me, and that just makes it so much worse.
I don't want to be forgiven! I did something terrible, and I don't want to be told I had my reasons, that it was understandable, that it was all right, that I'm forgiven.
We don't deserve to be saved, none of us.
I miss you, Vicky. I've missed you every single day for the past eight years and I'll never stop missing you.
Why did you have to die?
There's no one to blame either. Oh, I could try blaming the Minbari, but what good would that do? That will only lead to more hate. There's probably a Minbari sitting out there somewhere thinking about his lost love and blaming it on us.
We have to stop this somehow, but I've no idea how. I don't think we can. The people don't want it to stop.
As I said, we don't deserve to be saved.
Ah.... they're coming for me. Give Clark credit, he's good. Much cleverer than any of us have seen, even Sheridan. He's planning something. I don't know what, and I don't care, but I do know he's been sitting there pretending to be an idiot while the rest of us have been sniping at each other.
I've got to go. They'll find this letter, of course. Let them. I've said what needed to be said, and it's not as if you're here to read it. I think I just needed to talk to you one last time.
Goodbye, Vicky. I love you.
Welles set down his pen and looked up at the door. They were pounding on the other side of it. Men would even now be taking up positions at the back door, the windows and all possible points of escape. All unnecessary, of course. He had no intention of trying to escape.
He wondered what he would be charged with. Treason against the duly authorised Government, under section 2(1) of the Wartime Emergency Provisions 2247. That was a certainty. Aiding and abetting an enemy of the people. Perverting the course of justice.
Oh, he would be charged with whatever they liked. He would be charged, convicted and sentenced to death. Probably several times over.
He didn't mind. In fact he was quite looking forward to it. It would all be over. All of it. The guilt, the fear, the pain, the loss. All gone.
The door burst open and in rushed the Security officers. His men. His own men. He knew all their names, their spouses' names, their children's names and how many pets they all had.
He slowly rose to his feet.
Chapter 3
There was pain, but then he had expected that. They had not gone easy on him, and why should they? The guards had been understandably angry. He had, after all, arranged the escape of a war criminal, a mass murderer and the orchestrator of the destruction of Earth.
All in all he had got off fairly lightly, although they were not done with him yet.
Welles wondered what the public statement would be. Macabee would probably be having heart failure over how to present this to the public. It would probably remain secret for quite some time. Clark would obviously be hoping to recapture Delenn and pretend none of it had ever happened.
He shifted on the cold floor of his cell and winced at the pain in his side. Maybe not broken ribs, but bruised certainly. He knew all about the uses of pain and isolation when it came to interrogations. He would be left alone for a while now, a few days at least, to increase fear, to bring about a sense of solitude and loneliness.
He knew all about interrogation techniques. He had used them all in his time, but he had never imagined he would be subject to them.