She knew a lot of the passengers were taking Dr. Barnes up on that offer, though. There was the young woman she'd met while they'd been prisoners in the theater… Tricia Johnson. The twit had actually fallen for one of the terrorists… and she'd been in hysterics when she learned the kid had been killed.
Stockholm syndrome. Tabitha had heard about it. People held prisoner in hostage situations for more than a few days often developed deep feelings for their captors. After all, the terrorists literally held the power of life and death over their prisoners, and when you were consumed by feelings of helplessness your mind could get pretty messed up. The guy standing over you with a gun became a strong figure of stability and of protection… not a sick bastard who might rape or kill you in the next few seconds.
Tabitha was, she knew, in absolutely no danger of falling in love with those… those monsters.
Even her hatred and her bitterness, though, seemed.. distant. More than anything else, she was numb.
God, Ade, what am I going to do?
They'd offered to ship her luggage to one of the hotels where they were putting up the passengers off the Atlantis Queen, but she'd opted to go to her sister's place instead. She'd be able to get a cab right over there at West 48th and Twelfth.
She'd survived this city for twenty-five years before she'd met Adrian.
She would survive this.
Somehow.
'What do you think, Reggie?' Jake Levy asked. 'Dunno, man. She's… different, that's for sure.' 'Arnie Bernstein's death really hit her bad, I guess.' 'I know she had a thing for him. Bossed him around like nobody's business, but she kind of loved him, I think.'
'Ah, you know he was just about the only guy in the group who wasn't banging her, right?'
Carmichael shrugged. 'No big deal either way, right? That's just banging. Not love.'
Levy suppressed a wry smile. Carmichael had been Harper's current boyfriend for all of… what? Two months? But he'd never seemed jealous of the woman's dalliances with other men in her entourage. An open relationship, she'd called it.
It took all kinds.
They were watching Gillian Harper leaning against the railing, watching the crowds. They'd expected her to want to leave the ship immediately; she'd always been drawn to crowds and seemed to have a special fascination for press conferences. Anything that would give her exposure and media attention.
But not, it appeared, this time.
'I think it did hit her, Arnie's death, I mean,' Levy said. 'And I think she was damned scared. Maybe for the first time in her life. She told me this morning she didn't want to go through with 'Livin' Large.''
'Shit no, man! She's under contract!'
'Maybe she's just thinking about someone other than herself for a change.' Levy hesitated. It sounded like Carmichael was more worried about the money than about Harper's affections. 'We'll see how it works out. Maybe we can interest her in a new project.'
'Just so long as it doesn't have to do with boats, man,' Carmichael said. 'I ain't never gonna get on one of these things again!'
'How's the wrist, Ms. Caruthers?' Donald Myers asked.
Elsie Caruthers was sitting up in the hospital bed, her right arm encased in a lightweight plastic cast extending almost to her elbow. Anne Jordan hovered nearby. They'd flown all of the injured off of the Atlantis Queen early that morning, flying them by helicopter to New York Pres on Manhattan's West Side.
'I keep telling them I'm fine,' Caruthers said, petulant. 'That young doctor on the ship fixed me up just fine.'
'Well, they wanted to make sure everything was okay,' Myers said.
'Why wouldn't it be?'
'You managed to break your wrist!'
'Just a crack. Hairline fracture, the radiologist called it.' Caruthers' mouth worked in what might have been a smile. 'I'd have whacked that young son of a bitch harder if I could've!'
'Now, Elsie, you don't mean that!' Jordan said.
'I do mean it. This wasn't a damned movie, Anne. It was real, and those men would have killed us if they could've. Or killed those girls… or worse.' She shook her head. 'I'd do it again!'
'Well, you won't have to, will you?' Myers said. 'No more cruises for you!'
'Who says?' She looked up at him sharply. 'I signed on for a tour of the Mediterranean, and I intend to have it! God knows I may not have that many more years, and I'm going to go there before I die! Greece. Turkey. Egypt. I'm going to see them!'
'Well, I'm sure that can be arranged,' Myers said, startled. 'Another Walters tour group, maybe.'
'Exactly! And you'll take us, Mr. Myers, won't you? As our guide?'
'Ah… er..
'Because, you know, I've always loved your lectures, even when you got the facts a little confused, sometimes.'
'Of course, Ms. Caruthers,' Myers said. He felt an odd mix of resignation and enthusiasm. 'I'd be happy to.'
Jerry Esterhausen walked down the gangplank with Janet Carroll. 'So… will I be able to see you again, Janet?'
Carolyn Howorth gave him a sidelong look. 'Jerry, you don't even know my real name!'
'Because you won't tell me!' he said. 'Or who you really work for!'
She laughed. 'My friends call me CJ,' she told him. 'That's all you need to know.'
'Okay, am I your friend?'
'Of course!'
'Then… CJ, will you have dinner with me tonight?'
She didn't answer immediately, and he must have taken her hesitation as a negative. 'I mean, just dinner! I've just never known a girl who knows her way around a computer like you! And… and what you did to crack the ship's computer system was just brilliant! I'd just like to — '
'It's okay, Jerry,' she said. 'Yes.'
' — be able to talk. And it calls for a celebration, y'know? Rosie's gonna be famous, y'know, and I had a call this morning from the company about how someone wants to put her on a new cruise ship that's operating out of Florida, a real giant named the Oasis of the Seas, and… huh?'
'I said 'Yes.' I'd love to have dinner with you.'
'Uh… oh!' He swallowed and adjusted his glasses. 'Gee, great!'
She laughed. He was such a stereotypical geek. 'No promises,' she told him. 'I have to be in Washington tomorrow.'
'Uh, sure! No promises! I just… uh… well… I don't know what to say!' He frowned. 'I guess I'm better at talking to robots than I am to girls.'
'You do just fine, Jerry,' she told him. She took his hand as they turned to walk down the pier toward the waiting crowd. 'You do just fine.'
EPILOGUE:
