"About two hours by car," Amber said, "but you'll arrive later than nine, 'cause you have a one-hour layover in Amsterdam. Hank'll meet you at the airport an' drive you to Castle Waller; he's down south, by the town of Riesa." She handed Jessica a passport. "You'll need this for the trip."

"This is a forgery!" Jessica exclaimed, shocked.

Amber smiled tolerantly. "So what, hon? If it keeps you out of trouble with the authorities, it's done its job. It's just bureaucratic paperwork, anyway; not like we were fakin' somethin' important." Joseph took his without comment and absently shoved it in his pocket. "Joey, hon, I've gotta get back to work. If you need anythin', though, you just come to me, OK?" She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, waved to Jessica, and headed back to the main Searchers, Inc. computer room.

Jessica sat down on a nearby couch and looked up at Joseph. 'What now?'

He shrugged. 'I wish we didn't have to wait so long for the flight. I hate feeling useless.'

'But surely there were times with the Titans when you were forced to wait,' she countered. 'Did you mind, then?'

He shook his head. 'My mother's life wasn't in danger. That changes everything.'

'Tell me about her,' she said, hoping to give him something on which he could focus other than his inability to set off in search of his mother. 'She's probably nothing like my eema.'

He walked over to an antique armoire in the corner and opened one of the doors. Selecting two of the many binders stored there, he returned to where she waited and sat beside her. He handed one of the binders to her and she opened it, smiling at the pictures she saw.

'Your mother's wedding dress is lovely,' she commented. Staring harder at the picture, she looked at Joseph, then back at the photo, and finally, back at Joseph. 'You really look a lot like your father! The main difference is in the eyes.' She smiled. 'You have much nicer eyes.'

One eyebrow twitched upward. 'You didn't seem to think so the first time you saw them,' he noted. 'You looked like you'd seen a ghost.'

She sighed. 'There's a saying, you know: "Be careful what you wish for � you might get it". Your medical file had your photo in it, a picture of you with the Titans. Every day I would take that photo out and stare at it, praying that I hadn't done you any permanent harm, hoping that someday I would have the chance to meet you again, to apologize for what I'd done. But wanting something and having it happen are two different things. In my heart, I wasn't truly prepared to see you,' she admitted. 'I didn't really even think that you were still alive. So when I found myself face to face with you, I feared the worst.'

'I wouldn't have hurt you.'

She smiled. 'I know that, now. I had no way of knowing that then. Your medical file didn't contain any information about your forgiving nature.'

'I'll bet it didn't contain this, either,' he said, flipping through the second photo album. He came to the page he was looking for and handed the album to her.

It was a family portrait. The absence of a scar on Joseph's throat indicated that the photo was taken before his fourth birthday, though it couldn't have been too much earlier than that. She was surprised to see an older boy in the picture as well, and she pointed to him quizzically.

'That's my brother, Grant,' he explained. 'He died five years ago.'

Did the horrors in his life never cease? Anything she could say was inadequate, but she said it anyway. 'I'm sorry. I have no idea what that must feel like; both of my sisters are still alive.'

'I didn't know you had sisters.'

'You aren't the only one who suffers from the title "baby of the family",' she grinned. 'Rebecca is five years older, Helene seven, and both are married with children of their own. Sometimes I think I have no sisters, only three eemahot.'

He laughed. 'Yes, Grant was forever telling me what to do � and enforcing his opinion with his fists. Many times I wished I'd had an older sister instead of an older brother.'

She shook her head. 'Don't fool yourself. An older sister would hit you, too; mine did.'

They spent the next few hours going through the photo albums, reminiscing over simpler days and startling similarities in their pasts. When they'd finished with both albums, she closed the cover gently, stroking the silk embroidery on it with one finger. 'I wish my family had such albums. We have old photos, and pictures of my sisters, but none of me. My abba, you see, was overly impressed with technological advances, and when hand-held film recorders hit the market, he never used a camera again. But I think he has my entire life documented on reel after reel of grainy eight-millimeter film.'

She stood up and stretched as he returned the photo albums to the armoire. 'You should pack what you need for the trip now so that you can go over it later, in case you've forgotten something.'

He nodded. 'It won't take long; I travel as lightly as you do.'

She followed him to his room and watched silently as he packed; it was a swift, efficient procedure that had been honed by years of practice. Whether that practice had been voluntary or not, she couldn't say; she had grown up in Chicago and stayed there until adulthood, when she and her parents moved to separate cities. Though she knew he had been born in England, she had always assumed that he had been raised solely in New York, but she had never actually asked.

He set the bag by the door and turned to face her. She looked him over critically, then broke into a grin. 'With your permission, there's something I just have to do now.'

"Now that's the Joey I remember," Amber commented when they came down for dinner later that evening. "You did a nice job with the hair, Jessica."

Jessica smiled. 'Only because curly hair is wonderful at hiding bad haircuts.' She sat across from Joseph at the table, knowing better than to offer yet again her assistance in the kitchen.

Dinner was a vegetarian dish that met all the basic requirements of kashrut, and Jessica was touched by the obvious effort to include her. Amber had even set out the cup of water and bowl for her to perform the ritual handwashing. The last remnants of her earlier feelings of alienation evaporated swiftly.

The conversation deliberately skirted the issue of Adeline's whereabouts, and Jessica noted with increasing unease Joseph's agitation; he had barely touched his food, he glanced at the clock every five minutes, and he inadvertently tuned out the conversation, which Amber patiently repeated every time she asked him a question. Finally, even Amber had had enough.

"Hon," she said firmly, placing her hand over his, "you are goin' squirrelly on me. Go upstairs an' play your music, or meditate, or somethin', 'cause you've got another six hours before we leave for the airport, an' this anxiety isn't gonna do you any good."

Joseph acquiesced, heading upstairs while Jessica helped Amber clear away the dishes. By the time she also went upstairs, his door was closed. She knocked softly, not wanting to disturb him if he had already retired for the night. The door opened and he smiled at her, standing aside to allow her to enter. Almost as an afterthought, he remembered to keep the door open for the duration of her visit.

'I'm sorry if my engagement bothered you,' she said without preamble. It had been on her mind all day, but she hadn't found the opportunity to broach the topic. 'I didn't mention it because I didn't know you would care, but you must believe me, it was ended the first time Number One forced me into his bed.'

'I believe you,' he replied. 'It was more the� familiarity of the situation that bothered me. You really don't have to worry about it.'

'Familiarity?' she asked. 'You, too, were engaged?'

He nodded. 'Years ago.' He didn't elaborate.

She found herself irritated by the knowledge. No, she realized, not irritated � jealous. It was not an emotion she would have expected herself to have. 'You didn't marry her,' she pressed. 'Why not? Had she also been dishonored?'

His eyebrows quirked upward, surprised by her vehemence. 'Only by her own actions,' he explained. 'I believe she honestly loved me, but not as much as she loved money and power. And I didn't want to be part of her father's criminal organization, even indirectly.'

She looked away abruptly. 'I'm sorry, that was inappropriate of me to ask.' Wandering over to the window, she gazed out across the New York skyline, illuminated against the darkness of the night sky by the countless electric lights that blazed from the windows of every building. It looked the way it always had, and yet, everything about it was different somehow.

Or maybe she was the one who was different now.

"I feel so lost," she admitted. "Adrift in a sea of doubts. Before, I had my faith, and the certainty of my life, to sustain me. Now, I feel as though I have nothing. I have no future. I can't speak openly to my parents about what I've been through. God has become distant to me. I don't know why He allowed such evil things to happen to me; I feel� betrayed."

His hands rested lightly on her shoulders, and she stiffened at the contact. He pulled away quickly and she spun around to face him. 'Why you?' she demanded. 'Why does your touch make me feel safe � happy, even? Why has God given me feelings for you, when you are a goy, and forbidden to me? What is the meaning of this?'

'Perhaps I am no longer forbidden to you,' he suggested. 'Is it possible that God wants you to consider that?'

'Anything is possible,' she replied, 'but to put us both through so much pain, only so that we would meet? I can think of easier introductions.'

He smiled. 'But would an easier introduction have led to the feelings we have for each other now? You would have remained engaged, and so dismissed me as forbidden. I would not have pursued you for that reason, but even if I had, I would not have been able to break through the barrier of your religion. You had to be the one to do that.'

"But I have no desire to abandon my religion," she whispered.

He kissed the back of her hand. 'You don't have to. If God wills that we be together, how is accepting that against your religion?'

She shrugged. 'I don't know. Maybe it isn't. Maybe I only thought it was.' She shook her head, confused. 'Jews don't believe in luck and coincidence, you know. Everything is the work of HaShem, of God. That's why abba was concerned when he met you; he knew God put us together for a reason. Of course, that was only problematical when I was engaged, but there is still the issue of my status. Now that I've been dishonored �'

'I wish you would stop referring to yourself that way,' he interrupted her. 'A woman can dishonor herself through her behavior, but never by what others do to her. It wasn't your fault that you were raped �' she flinched at the word '� so you shouldn't blame yourself for it and act as though you are any less of a good person because of it.' When she made no response, he continued, 'I understand how it makes you feel. Cheap. Dirty. Like something to be used and thrown away. And it's hard not to blame yourself, even indirectly, because you always feel like there was something you could have done, some way you could have prevented it all, but the reality is, you couldn't. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will get.'

'That's what you've read in some journal, is it?' she asked, with more sarcasm than she might have intended.

'That's what I know from personal experience.' He looked away, obviously uncomfortable with the topic, and she was too stunned by the revelation to press him for a more immediate explanation. He pushed away from the window and paced around the room, finally sitting down at the edge of the bed, tension evident in his rigid posture.

'You wouldn't have read about it in my medical history; the doctors were too busy trying to save my life to check for any less-critical damage. And no one wanted to think about child abuse back then, anyway; it was just something unfortunate that happened to other people's kids. But the Jackal didn't like children, so he entrusted me to his henchmen, one of whom was quite a pedophile. I was freed about 48 hours after I'd been kidnapped, but that was 48 hours too late.'

'But � your mother knew, didn't she?'

He shook his head. 'How could I tell her? I was too young to really understand what had been done to me, other than that it had hurt. I could no longer speak, and I hadn't yet learned to write. There was a long period of time when I couldn't communicate anything to anyone, and during that time my parents divorced. After that, I decided that my mother had been through enough, and there was no point in burdening her with more knowledge of things that she could do nothing about.

'It didn't bother me much until years later, when I was old enough to realize what had happened. Everything you're feeling now, everything you have yet to feel � I've already been there.'

'You never told her, did you?' she asked, knowing the answer. 'Just as I won't tell my parents about some of the things that happened.'

'As you said before, what would be the point? The Jackal and his henchmen are dead; that's as much punishment as they'll get � in this lifetime, at any rate. All it would do is make my mother even more upset over an incident she's never forgotten and for which she'll never forgive my father for being its cause.'

She moved hesitantly toward him, paused, and walked to the door instead, closing it softly. Returning to the window, she pulled down the shade and closed the drapes, then sat down beside him on the bed.

For the longest time they simply sat there, her hand resting gently on his, overwhelmed by emotion. At length, she squeezed his hand reassuringly and looked up at him. 'As horrifying as it was, what Number One did to me at least had the benefit of happening all in one fell swoop. It was a terrible time in my life, but it was just one, big event. But you... every time you pick yourself up from one disaster, you're struck by another. It's enough to challenge even the strongest faith.'

He smiled briefly, but said nothing in response.

Silence gives assent, she thought. Shifting position, she leaned behind him and began to massage his shoulders, trying to work the stress from his taut frame. "Relax," she murmured in his ear, sliding her hands under his shirt and down his chest. "Let me add to the good memories in your life."

She pulled him down on the bed, and he didn't resist.

They were woken hours later by a knock on the door. "Up an' at 'em, you two," Amber called from the hallway. "We leave in an hour."

"Thank you," Jessica replied, reluctantly disentangling herself from Joseph. Sliding out of bed, she stepped over her discarded dress and headed for the shower. It was nice that his bedroom had a suite design with an attached bathroom � not that Amber didn't know what had gone on, but this way, everything could remain politely unspoken.

The warm water felt good on her skin, and she realized that Joseph wasn't the only one who had been too tense lately. In the back of her mind, she knew her mother wouldn't let her break her engagement so lightly, regardless of what had happened to her, and she didn't have the strength to deal with that confrontation. She had to face it sometime, though; running around the world with Joseph was not a permanent alternative to the situation.

She relinquished the shower to Joseph, got dressed, and headed downstairs, still pondering her dilemma. Sleeping with Joseph had only complicated things, and not just emotionally; Chaim might be able to overlook forcible rape, but not willful adultery. In fact, he was religiously required not to overlook such an act, even if he would have otherwise chosen to do so. Was she just trying to give him an unassailable reason to reject her, or were her feelings for Joseph truly strong enough to overcome her moral upbringing and better sense? She wasn't sure she really knew.

Rummaging through her duffel, she pulled out a small makeup bag and did her best to conceal the bruises on her face while she waited for Joseph to come downstairs. She didn't usually wear much makeup, so her efforts were limited in their effectiveness, but it was still better than she'd looked before.

Once Joseph was ready they left, Amber driving them on the brief trip to the airport. With no luggage to check in, they went directly to the gate and waited for their flight to arrive. Fortunately there was a small bookstore nearby in which they could pass the time.

They were among the first to board once the plane arrived at the terminal. Their seats were first class, a novelty for Jessica but clearly not for Joseph. He smiled as she marveled at the luxury of the accommodations he had always taken for granted when flying on long trips. The large seats were arranged in pairs, and he offered her the window seat so that men walking down the aisle wouldn't accidentally brush against her.

'Do you think Waller has the best information on your mother's whereabouts?' she asked once they were in the air. 'Perhaps we should be going to England, instead.'

He shook his head. 'Amber already told us everything that Searchers, Inc. knows. Waller hasn't reported what he knows, because he's been in the hospital. If the suspects are local to Germany, we'll be that much closer to apprehending them, and if not, Waller has all the resources of any Searchers, Inc. employee, so we won't have lost anything by not going to England.'

'So you don't mind visiting him, even though you disapprove of your mother's relationship with him?'

He laughed. 'I wouldn't go so far as to say I disapprove,' he corrected her. 'I just� wish it wasn't necessary. But I can't fault his treatment of her; he worships the ground she walks on, and after what she went through with dad, she deserves that kind of pampering.'

She chewed on her lip but didn't say anything. 'I won't be offended,' he told her. 'Go ahead and ask.' She blushed, but took him up on the offer. 'What did your father do that destroyed their marriage? Was he unfaithful to her?'

'Not in the way you mean it,' he replied. 'He lied to her about his being a mercenary, and because she didn't know, she wasn't prepared when his enemies came after me. Maybe she could have forgiven him for that, I don't know, but after my throat was slashed, there was no hope of a reconciliation. She blamed him for it, and later, for Grant's death as well. He hasn't made lots of mistakes, but the few mistakes he did make were very big ones.'

'And do you also see him as responsible for what happened?' she asked.

His expression answered her question, but she waited for his response anyway. 'I� I don't know. Yes, of course he was responsible, in that his actions were the cause of my kidnapping, but it isn't as though he wanted me to be hurt. He really did try to prevent it, although mom would say he didn't try hard enough. As for Grant, no, I don't hold him responsible for that; Grant was the sort of person prone to reckless anger, and I suspect he would have met with an early end regardless of what dad did.'

'She divorced him, then? In Jewish law, only men have the power to write a get, a divorce decree. But they must have their wife's consent for it to be effective.'

'What if it's the wife who wants the divorce, and not the husband?'

She shrugged. 'It depends; if he's only standing in her way out of spite, or if he's abusive, he can be forced into writing a get by the local rabbis. If he's a good man who is trying to mend the marriage, then she, too, should try, instead of seeking an end to it. But in the end, she could probably find a sympathetic rabbi who would help her coerce the husband into writing a get, if she really wanted one. Personally, I don't think much of divorce, except in extreme cases; these days, too many people choose to run away from their problems instead of dealing with them. It's hardly helpful.'

'And that's why you're here with me, instead of talking to Chaim and your parents?' he asked with gentle sarcasm.

It was obvious that he'd offended her, but she shrugged it off. 'I never claimed to be better than human; we all have our faults, and perhaps this is mine. But if your eema was anything like mine, you'd understand the desire to avoid talking about delicate issues with her. It's a no-win scenario if you've chosen any path other than hers.'

'Well,' he smiled, 'my mother can be quite forceful about getting her way as well.'

Their conversation was interrupted by the flight attendant serving food, which gave her the chance to reflect on her reaction to his comment. Why should it have bothered her, when she had admitted the same thing to herself back at his mother's place? She could only conclude that she disliked being so transparent to him, though if that was the case, she had better get used to the feeling; he seemed to be an unusually observant individual.

Her stomach rumbled, bringing her attention back to the present. Fortunately, the first class offerings were substantially better than those of coach, so she was able to find foods that she could eat. She was hungrier than she'd realized, and was a little embarrassed by the amount she ate, even though a good portion of it had been fruit. Conversely, he had eaten very little, and she had to prod him to eat more, so that he would have the energy to find his mother.

The combination of food and the soothing hum of the plane's systems caused her to drift off slowly, moving from quiet contemplation into sleep. But this was no gentle rest; she slept fitfully, her head tossing back and forth on the cushioned headrest. "No," she murmured, her hands jerking forward as though trying to push something � or someone � away. "No... please, no." Her voice remained quiet, but the rising panic in her tone compelled him to action. He grabbed her shoulder and shook her firmly enough to wake her from her nightmare.

Her eyes snapped open, but it was evident that she was not yet free of the terror that had gripped her. She stared at him wildly, her body frozen into immobility by the strength of her fear. He stroked her cheek gently, trying to bring her fully awake, and gradually she became more aware of her surroundings.

"Joseph?" she asked hesitantly, still uncertain as to where she was and what had happened. He nodded. "I� where� was I dreaming?"

'Yes,' he told her, 'but you're free now. We've been free for days. And Number One is dead; he can't hurt you anymore.'

'It was so real,' she signed, then switched to speech because her hands were shaking so badly. "All the pain, all the fear, all the humiliation � it was like I was back there again in reality." She tried to blink back her tears, but failed.

He raised the armrest between them and pulled her closer; she was still too distraught to even mention the taboo, much less move to correct it.

'I know,' he consoled her. 'The nightmares will take a long time to go away. And just when you think you've gotten past them, they'll return. But you will get past them. You've survived the worst part already; all you need to do now is force yourself to forget the rest. You're alive; Number One isn't. You won. The rest of your life is in your hands from here on out.'

Her belief in his assertion did nothing to improve her emotional state, and she stayed pressed against him for the remainder of the flight, his physical presence her only sense of security. She was beyond caring what the other people on the plane might think; they had no way of knowing she wasn't married to Joseph, no way of realizing what taboos she was violating. Their ignorance didn't make her actions correct, though, and she was mildly shocked to discover that she didn't much care about that, either.

So she made no apologies for her proximity when they disembarked in Berlin and met the Searchers, Inc. employee who would take them to Castle Waller. As it happened, Hank McCoy was also a doctor, and he spent most of the trip informing her of Germany's recent technological advances in the field of cranial imaging and microsurgery. Joseph made no attempt to feign interest in the conversation, even though Hank had shown the courtesy of speaking in English.

They were both relieved when the car pulled up at the gates to Castle Waller, so much so that the car had barely come to a halt before they were out and walking toward the imposing double doors of the main entry. The woman who answered the door appeared to be much older than the one with whom Jessica had spoken earlier, and they quickly discovered that there was not one but an entire team of maids employed by Waller.

This woman spoke no English, which made gathering the necessary information slow and cumbersome. Eventually, though, they learned that they had been misled; Waller had been released from the hospital nearly a week ago, and was now gone yet again. The maid didn't know why he had chosen to leave when he was barely able to stand, but she did know that he'd demanded travel arrangements to Hong Kong while in the company of two older gentlemen, one of whom wore an eye patch.

'He's with my father and Wintergreen,' he told Jessica as they returned to the waiting car. 'Frankly, I'm surprised by that; I was under the impression that Waller hates my father more than my mother does.'

'Perhaps they were able to set aside their differences for your mother's sake,' she suggested.

He opened the door and slid into the backseat next to her. 'Hank, why would Waller go with my father to Hong Kong?'

The other man looked thoughtful. "Couldn't tell you, son, but let's dial up Searchers, Inc. with that question." Using the car's built-in computer, he rapidly discovered the most plausible explanation. "Looks like you've got relatives there," he told Joseph. "Raymond Kane, your mother's cousin, and his daughter, Mayflower. They must have information about that old suit of armor; maybe they even have a piece of it � which might make them targets, too."

'So my mother's kidnappers aren't local to this area? Not someone with a grudge against Waller, or foreigners?'

Hank shook his head. "Doesn't seem to be shaping up that way, though I wouldn't discount anything just yet." He noticed the look on Joseph's face and sighed. "I suppose you'll be wanting to head out to Hong Kong."

He nodded.

"Just like your mom," Hank chuckled, turning the car back toward Berlin.

End, Part Two

Part Three!