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Shooting the Moon, Part One Shooting the Moon, Part Two
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instead of seven linked files, click here. This story is a continuation, not a "sequel." It contains references to characters and situations that you may not understand if you haven't read Shooting the Moon, Part One. To do that, click on the link to Part One in the scan column to the left. You will find a link back to Part Two at the end of Part One. Most of the characters portrayed herein belong to Warner Bros and the Oxygen Network in fact, and to us only in fantasy. No copyright violations are intended, and no money will be made from this work. Michael Samuelle had believed that this waking nightmare was one he would never have again. It had ended, he thought, on a white bridge crossed in one direction by a child, and in the other by a man who would in moments be lying dead on it. But he had been wrong. The very man who had dominated that other scene--standing arrogantly, legs apart and arms folded, while the two flanking him shot down their enemies' leader like a stray dog--that very man now faced him on a computer screen, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses, his mouth curving in a smile no less arrogant than his stance on that bridge. "If you want to see your son again," said the man, whose name was Retzlaff, "you'll do as I tell you. No games this time. I was there. I saw what fools you made of Graf and Haled. You will not make such a fool of me. Is that understood?" Remaining silent, Michael realized that he had been holding his breath, and let it out slowly, silently, determined that his adversary not know that he had been holding it. "Very well. You don't have to answer me. You only have to obey me." "I no longer have access to information in Section's computers." "Oh, come now. You have access to anything you want." Silence. "Good. You have three days." And the screen went dark. Michael stood silent, an erect exclamation point in a pretty blue and white room mellow with Mediterranean sunlight. It was a mild, warm day for winter, but he felt as though he were frozen in place. "Daddy?" He flinched, a painfully unfamiliar sensation. He had not realized that he wasn't alone in the blue and white room while he viewed the transmission from Retzlaff. Slowly he turned to meet the dark gaze of the child who stood in the doorway--a dazed, still-terrified little boy who looked back at him with accusation. "I'm the extra kid in this family," Adam informed him, on the verge of tears, and Michael realized that at this moment the child's fear was not for himself but for his absent brother. "You should have let them keep me instead."
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