LEADING UP TO REBIRTH; FATE
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    Just another day at the office, another week, another month; over a year gone by without much
change.  His attitude had become less intimidating, but other than that, the world revolved on the
same axis as the previous years.  He was the same person then and now.  What he needed was a
change.  What he prayed for, lonely at nights, was a change.  And that�s exactly what he got.

~~~~~

     Out on the streets at night, he was patrolling to keep the neighborhood safe; a vigilant act for
the city.  The night was humid and eerily silent, perfect for a concoction of inappropriate
behaviors, yet he didn�t think he would witness much action other than that of the normal
bickering of drunkards on the sidewalks, speaking of tribulations in accommodation.  His patrol
shift was over at 2 AM and it was rapidly drawing near time to head home.  The last area of his
route was probably the most prone to criminal activity; it was an old-school neighborhood with
close-quartered apartment complexes and alleyways.

     Wendell brought his vehicle to a slower pace so he could scan the premises for activity.  He
could hear a few indistinguishable voices coming from an alley.  He stopped the car on the
shoulder of the road in front of the alley.  Lowering the passenger window via electronic button,
he focused his vision down the dark path.  He could see a couple shadows in the distance and
could still hear the murmurs.  Wendell didn�t know if it was anything to investigate or not, but
then he heard a scream.  It sounded that of an infant�s.  The debate was over now. With drive and
honor, Wendell flew from the vehicle and began heading down the alleyway, his back against
one wall, gun in hand.  The voices began getting louder and audible.

�I�m gonna get you,� he heard one voice say.  Following that, another shriek, sounding now like
a young boy for certain.

     Peering down the dark path, Wendell could now see the little boy ducking next to a crate.  But
the other figure was still cloaked in shadow.  Yet from the shadow alone, he could tell that
whoever it was there with the boy was holding a gun.  Wendell�s heart began thumping wildly in
his chest.  He hoped he�d be able to stop the attacker in time.  And then he saw the figure raising
the gun, aiming at the boy.

�Here�s your payback, Alvin,� the voice from the darkness spoke.

     Instinctively knowing that if he shouted out to stop the man, it could trigger him to shoot
anyway, so Wendell decided his only option at this point was to shoot first and hope to stun him
long enough to apprehend him.  So, with a gut full of anticipation and determination, Wendell
pulled the trigger of his own gun.  The shot rang loud into the silent night, echoing through the
alleys and disturbing the tranquility of the neighborhood.  It could have suppressed a world-wide
telemarketing team in a midday business week.  When the reverberation had ended, there was a
victim lying cold on the wet pavement and a frightened child horrified.

     Wendell�s breathing was labored, shocked himself of what had occurred.  Cautiously and
steadily he walked towards the attacker.  The child by the crate gazed at the newcomer with
widened pupils.  Wendell still couldn�t tell what the attacker looked like, still too much shadow
blocking visualization.  But then a light flickered on.  The shot had awakened concerned citizens
living in the apartments, and the people in the rooms that faced this particular alley were destined
to have heard it.  One by one, the lights turned on and curious faces looked out the windows to
see what was happening below.  As the lights came on, the dark path was no longer hidden.  And
with that, brought a horrible realization to Wendell - the victim who lie cold on the ground was a
14 year-old boy with a water pistol.

     His heart wrenched in agonizing remorse.  What had he done?  He had mistaken two kids
playing in a dark alley late at night as being something else.  He dropped his gun to the cement;
banging loudly, filling the night air with even more clatter.  The people behind the windows
watched in amazement.  Wendell rushed to the side of the innocent boy who remained there,
breathing with troubled tenacity.  His bullet had hit the boy directly in the chest.  Tears welled up
inside his sockets at the realization that this boy would not live to see tomorrow.  And as to add
even more pressure to the tragic incident, a frantic voice shattered all concentration.  From up
above, an hysterical mother cried out with tortured screams, realizing her precious child had been
taken from her existence.  Wendell dropped to his knees and hung his head; his conscience entering a state of delusional nightmare.

     The sirens in the distance grew louder and louder as the seconds crept by.  Wendell lounged
against the hood of his patrol car, puffing on a cigarette to ease his nerves.  He had already
survived the angry abusing of a furious mother.  It hurt so much that he could hardly keep eye
contact with her; regret and shame stung so harshly.  Unfortunately, Wendell had to stay at the
scene for a couple hours, writing out a report and all.  He just wanted to return home and put an
end to this horrible day with a deep sleep; not that that would bring justification to what he did.
Nor did the sleep help all that much anyway, because his dreams were haunted by recently
acquainted demons.

~~~~~

     Too much distraught plagued his being.  His focus and concentration was shot, disabling his
work performance.  The captain in charge of the LAPD unit, Dudley, granted Wendell a week�s
rest so he could recollect his thoughts.  Upon reflection of who he was and where he wanted to
be, Wendell came to a very startling decision.  He believed it was time to leave the force.  The
revelation disappointed Captain Dudley.  Wendell was his finest officer.  Countless times,
Dudley tried to change his mind, but it was to no avail, for Wendell had lost faith in himself.
Every time he looked into a mirror, all he saw was the person who shot an innocent kid.  And he
couldn�t live with that; he couldn�t hold a gun anymore.

     So with his ultimatum set in stone, Dudley eventually came to terms with Wendell�s decision.
The squad threw him a farewell party at the station to honor the years he was with the force.  His
partner, Edmund Exley, was one person to take it the worst.  The bond that grows between
partners - always there, backing each other up with their lives - is a tremendous one, so saying
goodbye was a hard thing to do.

~~~~~

     It had been a week since his last day on the job.  The boredom that accompanied
unemployment was beginning to get to him finally.  Wendell had always been a hard-working
guy.  This lifestyle didn�t suit him.  But he was having troubles deciding what direction he
wanted to head now with his life.  Luckily, he had a nice safety with his savings, so it was not
urgent that he found replacement work immediately.  So, in the meantime, he used his boredom
as an opportunity to do some work around the house.

     First, he hit the bedroom, focusing mainly on the closet.  Over the years, the selection had
grown, half of which hadn�t been touched practically since the day of purchase; items that were
too small, out of fashion, or just not to his taste anymore.

     After he tackled the closet, Wendell sorted through his bedroom cabinet, clearing out odds
and ends that held no relevance anymore.  And that�s when he came across a little book with a
black leather binding.  He had forgotten all about its existence.  The book housed random names,
addresses, and phone numbers.  Wendell sat down on his bed and began flipping through the
neglected pages, recalling person after person whom he had not contacted in ages.  Half the book
was blank due to lack of people that Wendell had actually known.  The very last entry he made
caused him to dwell longer than on any other.  �Jeff Mitchell.�  That name brought back so many
memories.  His boyfriend of one week; his only boyfriend he�s ever had; a tragic case of the right
guy at the wrong time.  When Jeff had left him to go back home to Australia, they kept in touch
for a few months, calling and writing.  But eventually, each forgot about one another.

     Crazed ideas began filling his head the longer he stared at the name on the paper.  He longed
so much to see Jeff�s face again and to hear his voice.  Without further hesitation, he reached for
the phone.

~~~~~

�Hello?�  a lady answered the phone.  It was Joyce.

�Hi, uh... does uh... Jeff Mitchell, is he... still at this number?�  Wendell asked, nervous, not sure
if Jeff even lived there anymore.  It had been so long since they last got in contact.

�No he doesn�t,� Joyce started off but got interrupted.

�Oh...�

�But, this is his stepmother.�

Wendell�s tone lightened up, �Oh,� he said more enthused.

�I could always relay a message.  He just lives down the street from us.  May I ask who�s
calling?�

�Oh, uh... my name is Wendell White.

There was a short pause, �Hmmm... that name sounds so familiar,� Joyce replied, trying to reflect
on it.  �Oh!  I remember now.  The officer from Los Angeles right?�

�Yeah.  That�s me.  How�d you know?�

�Oh, Jeff used to talk about you all the time.�

Wendell smiled to himself, slightly embarrassed, being reversed so highly.

�So what�s going on?�  Joyce asked.  They began conversing back and forth, getting acquainted.
One thing led to another and Wendell had discovered that Jeff was single.  The more they talked
about him, the stronger Wendell�s yearning to be with him grew.  And somewhere along the way,
Wendell decided that he wanted to move out there to be with him.

�So you�re really serious about it, huh?�

�Yeah.  There�s really nothing left for me here.  I need a change in my life and ain�t nothing
better for it than this.�

�Well, I can�t tell you how happy Jeff will be about seeing you again.  But y�know what?�

�What�s that?�  Wendell asked.

�His birthday is coming up in about a month.  It would be great if you could come on that day.  A
great birthday gift, �eh?�

�Yeah, it sure would,� Wendell responded, smiling.  He was so anxious to go on with this step.

     They talked for a while longer and finalized the plans.  When they had finally said goodbye,
Joyce walked out on the porch to share the good news with Harry.  Inside, Harry felt intensely
joyed.  This was it.  Jeff would finally find happiness.

~~~~~

     After the happiness settled, a big worry filled his head; his house, he had only one month to
sell it.  He couldn�t just leave for Australia and abandon his home.  It would require swift action
and correct advertisement to get the job done.  Also needed - a great deal.  Half of the retail price
of the place should do, he thought.  It�s not like he would need the full money.  He would live
with Jeff now and find a job and help share the bills.

     The very next morning, Wendell went to a real estate company to begin the transition.  They
discussed prices and established some open house appointments.  The first open house was a
week later.  Three couples came to see the house.  They were really impressed but one key factor
shied them away - it was only a one-bedroom place.  Obviously when buying a house, a couple
would think of the future, as far as having kids and needing an extra room.  So, unfortunately, no
one latched on that open house.  But the real estate agency set up another one the following
weekend.  Wendell was getting desperate and on edge.  The second open house brought more
variety of customers: two couples and three other individuals.

     These couples were also turned off by the one-bedroom factor, but the other three showed
promise, especially the painter.  She was real into the fancy decor of the place, which Wendell
had decided to leave behind.  It would be too much work to move all his furniture and belongings
to Australia, so he had not choice but to, which was actually a good selling point.  At the end of
the evening, the two exchanged numbers.  She was really interested and just needed a couple
days to think it through.

     And she did and got back to him, with good news.  Wendell was deeply relieved and anxious
to start packing all his stuff that would make the cut.  He really didn�t own too many possessions,
so in the end, he only had four suitcases filled with clothes and just a few small items.  The
remaining time he had left, Wendell spent saying goodbye to those he knew well.  Everyone at
the LAPD was surprised; first, quitting his job and now leaving the United States for good.  No
one had expected this, not even Wendell himself.  This was such a big step.  He felt nervous but
yet so looking forward to it.  Love was the catalyst.

~~~~~

�Attention!�  a voice echoed in his head.  �Will all personnel please evacuate the facility.  Self-
detonation in ten minutes.�

     Wendell found himself in a laboratory of some sort.  The building did not look familiar.  He
was sitting at a desk and he was in a lab coat.  Confusion was the first emotion he felt; this
strange setting around him.  But confusion was soon replaced with panic.

�Attention!  Will all personnel please evacuate the facility.  Self-detonation in nine minutes,� the
automated computer voice warned.

     Fearful and panicked, Wendell hopped up from the desk and exited the lab room he was in.
There was a stream of people running through the hall, trying to get out of the facility.  Everyone
he saw was someone he knew from the LAPD and elsewhere.  Wendell followed the flow.  They
ran and ran, through twisting hallways, fleeing for their lives.  And then Wendell saw the exit;
the sun shining into the building, beckoning them to safety.

�Attention!  Will all personnel please evacuate the facility.  Self-detonation in seven minutes.�

At the exit, Exley was standing, directing people out and across the parking lot.  Wendell hurried
over to him.

�Exley!  What the hell is going on!?�

�No time to explain, Bud.  Just get outta here before this place goes sky high,� Exley responded.

Wendell was heading out the door when he heard a scream.  �Help!�  the terrified voice erupted
through the enclosed hallways.

Wendell turned around.  �You hear that?  Someone must be trapped inside.  I�ll go help them.�

Wendell ran back into the laboratory.  The halls were empty now and sirens wailed and flashed
with red intensity.

�Attention!  Will all personnel please evacuate the facility.  Self-detonation in six minutes.�

     Wendell followed the pleas for help through the labyrinth of halls.  As he approached nearer,
he could distinguish the voice with more detail and thought he recognized it.  Bursting into a
room, he discovered that his assumptions were correct.  Inside the room was a jail cell.  The
young man whom he had shot in the alley a few weeks ago was locked inside the cell.  His
younger brother was crouched down next to the bars crying for help.

�What is this?�  Wendell whispered to himself, �I must be losing my sanity.  This can�t be
happening.�

�Attention!  Will all personnel please evacuate the facility.  Self-detonation in five minutes.�

Wendell ran over to the cell and tried forcing it open.  It was not the standard jail cell locked by
a key.  This one was electronically locked.   He looked around for a release switch but none was
to be found.  There was no way to get the boy out, at least not in the amount of time he had to
work with.  He ran back over to the cell.  �Don�t worry.  I�ll find a way to get you out.�

�Attention!  Will all personnel please evacuate the facility.  Self-detonation in four minutes.�

The lights flickered and Wendell heard the little boy scream.  When he turned around, the boy
was gone, and the door to the room was closing.

�On no.  Not now,� Wendell said, frustrated.  �As if it weren�t bad enough.�  He chased down
the hall after the boy.  He saw the child going around a bend, but as soon as Wendell cut the
corner, the boy was nowhere to be seen.  There was a piece of paper on the floor.  Wendell bent
over and picked it up.  A note was written for him, in blood.

�Why did you make him die, Wendell?�  it read.

The letter horrified him, sending a chill throughout his entire body.  �What is going on here?
Where am I?�  He lingered in the hallway, holding the note.  Then he dropped it, returning it
back to the cold floor.

�Attention!  Will all personnel please evacuate the facility.  Self-detonation in three minutes.�

�Three minutes!  Christ!�  Wendell ran back to the jail cell room.  But now, the young man was
no longer in the cell.  And he wasn�t anywhere in the room.  �What the hell is going on?�  He
remained in the room for a bit, stupefied.

�Attention!  Will all personnel please evacuate the facility.  Self-detonation in two minutes.�

Exiting the room and heading through the maze of hallways, Wendell ran as fast as he could.  He
couldn�t remember which way it was to the exit, and he didn�t have other people to follow this
time.

�Wendell!�  a voice yelled out behind him.  He stopped in his tracks and turned around.  Jeff
was standing at the other end of the hall.  �Bloody hell, mate, it was just a water pistol.  You
should�ve known better.�  Then Jeff turned away and disappeared into a wall.  A tear worked its
way from Wendell�s eye.  This nightmarish Hell was getting worse and worse.

�Attention!  Will all personnel please evacuate the facility.  Self-detonation in one minute.�

His heart rate began pulsing like a sonar, deeply afraid he wouldn�t make it out alive.  He had so
many plans, all including Jeff, and he just had to make it there.  He turned a couple more
corners and saw the exit.  The sun gleamed in with aspiration for a better future.

�Attention!  Will all personnel please evacuate the facility.  Self-detonation in 10 seconds.�

     That last warning scared the hell out of him, so he began running as fast as his legs would
work.  �9..... 8..... 7.....�  Sanctuary grew closer and closer.  �6..... 5..... 4.....�  The door was just
now 4 steps away.  But then the unimaginable happened; he saw Jeff standing at the exit and
then he closed the door.  Wendell ran into the door and immediately tried the knob.  It was
locked!  �3..... 2..... 1.....�  Furiously he kept trying to open the door but to no avail.  Tears
streamed down his face at the fear of dying.  He began to hear explosions behind him.  Turning
around, he watched as the impending doom came onto him; the ceiling collapsing and fiery
oblivion jumping all over him.

�Attention!  Attention!�

Wendell jumped up in his seat and inhaled the biggest breath.  He looked all around him,
focusing on the surroundings.  He was on a plane - and safe.  The young lady sitting next to him
looked over, wondering what was going.  She didn�t really realize that he had been sleeping.

�Attention!  Please buckle your seatbelts.  We are now landing in Sydney.�

~~~~~

     A foreign land, a foreign scent in the air, a foreign dialect all around; it was Australia and
utterly unfamiliar to Wendell.  Everything echoed around him; a busy airport alive with clatter.
Joyce had made plans for a friend of hers to pick him up, firstly because she wanted to be with
Jeff on his birthday, and secondly because she wanted Wendell�s arrival to be a complete shock.
If she left in the middle of the celebration, Jeff might suspect that there was a big surprise coming
on the way.

     He had to stand next to his luggage to guard it.  Four suit cases were too much to carry on his
own.  Wendell had no clue what this friend would look like, so all he could do was wait for this
person to arrive.  He told Joyce to have her meet him by the luggage pick-up at the appropriate
gate, and then they�d go from there.  Wendell waited just over half an hour before she came.  He
saw her advancing towards him.  Their eyes met and she came up to him.

�Wendell, I presume?�  she spoke.

�Yep.  Hello.�

�G�day.  I�m Kim,� she replied, extending her hand out to greet him.  �Well, shall we?�

Wendell gazed around like he was looking for something.

�What�s the matter, luv?�  she asked.

�I was wondering if they had carts to haul luggage so I could get �em to your car.�

�Oh, I can help you with them,� she replied, looking down at the floor to count the
cases,�Hmmm... 2 and 2 I reckon would be fair.�

�I don�t wanna trouble you any more than I already have,� Wendell responded, feeling
embarrassed that he was going to let her carry his stuff.

�Trouble!?�  she responded with exclamation.  �Are you kidding me?  I�d be happy to help.  Any
friend of Jeff�s is a friend of mine.  Now let�s go, lover boy.�  She smiled laughingly at Wendell
and picked up two of the cases and began walking through the terminal.

Wendell chuckled to himself, stupefied over her extreme jubilance.  He wasn�t used to such
hospitality in L.A., as there, everyone seemed a bit too literal and hardened.  The change was
rather pleasant, he thought.

~~~~~

     Kim was very much for small talk and made conversation the entire way, asking for all the
details about how he and Jeff met.  Wendell was more than pleased to tell her, for the trip down
memory lane was an ecstatic one.  As they passed through the neighborhood, Kim pointed out
Harry and Joyce�s place.  A couple cars lined the curb, because a few of their guests stayed a
while to catch up with their old friends.  Jeff�s house was just down the street and around the
corner.  Kim pulled the car up to the driveway.

�Well.  Here you are, Wendell,� Kim said, smiling softly.

Wendell had his vision fixed at the house but realized he should be more courteous, so he turned
his attention towards her.  �Thanks so much for picking me up, Kim.�

�Any time, luv,� she replied.

Wendell unbuckled and opened the door.  Before he got a chance to get out, Kim touched him on
the shoulder.  �Look, Wendell.  Why don�t I swing by about an hour from now to drop off your
bags.  Y�know, give you and Jeff time to say g�day and everything.�

�Oh, that sounds great.  You are so sweet.�

�Don�t mention it, luv,� she winked at him.  �Go get �im, tiger.�

     Wendell blushed then got out and said goodbye then shut the door.  Kim drove away, leaving
him by himself in Jeff�s driveway.  Butterflies filled his stomach.  He was incredibly nervous,
hoping that Jeff would be delighted to see him and that everything would work out how he
planned.  Somewhere, in the back of his mind, was the thought that perchance Jeff wouldn�t want
to be with him.  But he decided not to think too much and just go knock on the door.  He had to
remain optimistic; rejection was not an option, lest he be stranded in Australia with no home.

     Taking tiny steps, with his hands in his pants pockets, Wendell approached the front door.
Those butterflies were mutating into termagant shocks; the anxiety was overwhelming him.  His
throat dried and his eyes watered.  It took him much strength to raise his arm to knock on the
door.  He waited a moment but there seemed to be no response right away.  There wasn�t enough
strength left in him to knock again; Wendell was just too tense at that moment.  But finally came
a response.  The door opened abruptly and Jeff stood before him.  Jeff went still, his jaw
dropping.

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