A few yards ahead of her, she saw the perfect outdoor cafe, with a beautiful view of the park, a host of early Spring flowers in bloom directly across the street, their brilliant colors, red, yellow, and purple.... impossible to ignore. It was so peaceful and relaxing, just what she needed to let the inner tension caused by grieving to fade from view. As she approached the establishment she smiled and spoke to her husband in her mind. 'It's okay, isn't it, Roman.... for me to find a moment of enjoyment? You wouldn't want me to be sad all the time, would you? You know I'll always love you.. wherever I go, whatever I do... you're with me.. in my... heart." Tears filled her hazel eyes as she wondered about the guilt that always seemed to accompany moments like these. It was natural, a part of the healing process, but she knew it was strange all the same for the grieving person to experience. Wiping her tears with her outstretched fingertips, she took a deep breath and composed herself, prepared to enjoy the day as best she could, knowing that the guilt feelings might be there as well.

John hated this part of a job.... walking the length of their escape route, pacing it out step by step, looking for places to take cover should the need arise. But, knowing that it was absolutely crucial to every heist, he did it dutifully. Besides, this time it was different. This was the last one, the one that would finally buy his freedom.

As an adolescent, alone and vulnerable, in need of food and shelter, John had no idea what he was getting into, and by the time he began to realize, it was much too late. He was lured by the man's deceptive charm, enticed by the life of wealth and finery the man offered him. John was ensnared in Dimera's trap, and soon subject to games of mind control and tests of will as a victim of deprivation and what often amounted to emotional, sometimes physical torture. Of course, Stefano called it training and discipline, admittedly sometimes quite harsh but deemed necessary if his charges were to become worthy of the sign of the Phoenix.

John knew better now, but not then. There were times when he despised the man and times when he knew he'd be dead if it weren't for his connections with the Dimera Empire. It was a classic love/hate relationship, one he didn't question until well into his twenties and by then it seemed to be too late to escape. Stefano never let him forget that he owed the man plenty, including his life, several times over. He'd held that debt over John's head for FAR too long!

During the worst periods he was so beaten down by the brutal ravaging of mind, body and spirit that for fleeting moments he wished to die in order to stop the pain. However, giving in to the pain and fear was simply unacceptable in the dark world in which he was raised. Instead, he'd learned to fight and then to kill, which was exactly what the monster wanted him to do. He became a fighting, killing machine, programmed to remove all obstacles in his path, with total disregard for the loss of life that might ensue. John learned well and he followed orders most of the time. When he didn't, when his rebellious nature surfaced, Dimera drove it out of him, beat it out of him, tortured it out of him, until he gained the compliance he demanded. It was a cycle that had to come to an end sometime, they both knew it, though it had gone unspoken for many years.

And now... at last, John believed he had a real chance at making a life of his own... away from that savage abuse and mind control, away from the killing. Deep inside he'd begun to feel unsettled during recent months; there was a growing sense of unrest with that life as Stefano's thief and mercenary, switching back and forth between the personas Dimera created. He had money, built up over a period of months, and the means to travel and start over with Gina. John Black determined that he wouldn't let anything or anyone stand in the way of their plans. He had learned very well from the criminal mastermind and he would do whatever it took to achieve his objective. If he had to kill the man to escape his hold, then so be it.

Just as he was about to round a corner, the blinding light of the late afternoon sun hit him in the eyes and he went down with it... one of those massive headaches bringing him almost instantly to his knees, grasping at anything solid to hold him steady. He couldn't see and his head felt like it would explode... "Oh... Gina... " he cried, gripping his head at his temples, knowing she was the only one who could make the pain go away...

"Are you alright.... sir... " said a soft compassionate voice. It wasn't Gina but there was something about it he found comforting, familiar even... He tried to open his eyes but couldn't. The pain was so intense it blinded him. Soon, John felt a pair of hands upon his shoulders, caring hands, gentle hands. There was a warmth, and a sense of peace that emanated from those hands....

"What's wrong?"

Still not able to open his eyes, he struggled through the agony to reply, "My head.... it's on fire.... a light flashed in my eyes... "

She nodded and began to massage his temples instinctively, speaking quietly as she did so, "Try to relax... slow your breathing....let the tension fade...let it go...."

It was working... "Yea... that's better... " he said as she continued her ministrations. It *was* better, in a matter of moments the pain was receding. John opened his eyes and saw the most amazing sight in all the world. Her face was like that of an angel, her hair was like spun gold and her hazel eyes were so full of genuine compassion, for him, a total stranger....

"Are you alright?" she asked kindly.

Beginning to come out of it, he rose from the ground, slightly embarrassed, "Yes, I uh... I get these headaches sometimes.... they're killer... but they go away."

"Have you been seen by a doctor... that looked pretty serious.... " she said, giving him the once over, with a physician's skills of observation.

He shrugged it off, saying casually, "I know... I really should... I tried once.. they couldn't find a reason... said it was probably stress... or something."

She nodded, realizing it wasn't her place to tell him what he should do. "Well, I'm glad you're alright now, I was afraid you might hurt yourself, falling like that."

Chagrined, he discounted her concern, finally meeting her caring but strangely penetrating gaze, "Nah... but thank you for helping me, that was very kind of you, Miss..."

"Doctor Evans.. I'm Doctor Marlena Evans..... and you?" she said, extending her right hand for him to shake.

His eyes were fixed on the slender hand that found its way toward his. Even her hand was amazing, so soft and yet strong.. but the feeling of holding it did something to him, something words could not explain and his response was delayed. "Oh, yea... I'm uh... John... Stevens.... nice to meet you and thanks again..."

"You're welcome..." she said with an awkward smile, tugging her hand back, realizing he'd been holding it too long.

Conscious of his strong visceral reaction, he let her go, not certain it was for her benefit or his, "Well, I'll uh... just let you get back to your lunch here... take care."

"You too... goodbye then...." She lingered for a moment, as did he, wishing he could think of something else to say to prolong the encounter. He could see in her slightly hidden eyes that she wanted the same, but there was nothing more for two strangers to discuss, so she smiled politely and turned her attention back to her meal.

He watched her at a discreet distance as she took her seat, placing the napkin over her lap. God, she was beautiful... naturally, incredibly beautiful and so graceful the way she carried herself, not like Gina whose movements were calculated, overtly sexual. This woman was different. She was special... way out of his league. His body reacted powerfully to the mere sight of her, which made him wonder...and left him wishing for a different life... but why?

The more he thought about it, the more he thought he should know her....'Doctor Marlena Evans... why did the name sound so familiar to him? Had Dimera mentioned her before?' Shaking off the questions and the remnants of the throbbing pain in his head, John continued on his way, mapping out the path to freedom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, two partners in crime among other things, were on the verge of breaking away, meeting in the moonlight, stealing a second or two to savor the moment. In just a few short hours they would be on their own, away from the man who had controlled their lives for so long.

"Oh, Gina... we did it baby.... Just a little while longer and we'll be free... I'll see you at the rendezvous point... I love you."

"And I love you.... Bye, John... I'll see you very soon..." Their eyes lingered and he leaned in to kiss her, powerfully, hungrily...

That was the last intimate contact they were to make. He was convinced that he would never forget even one moment of that fateful night for the rest of his miserable long life. Gina was the only one he ever let himself care about since... He shook it off.... those were memories he couldn't allow to surface... he'd just as soon banish them from his mind forever. Now she was gone too, just like the others, taken him from him in an instant. That's the way it was for him, almost like a curse upon his name..... every time he let himself care about someone, the vengeful gods poured out their wrath upon him and he was left alone again.

The increasingly intrusive images flashed inside his mind, over and over and over again until his head throbbed with pulsating pain. It was dark and foggy, a misty chill in the early Spring air... They were running... almost ready to split up, a few feet apart from each other when the shots rang out... a staccato noise filling the air, shouts of warning just seconds beforehand, "Stop... halt or we'll be forced to fire upon you!"

"Keep running, Gina.. I'll cover us..." She hesitated, afraid he'd be hurt or worse. Finally, he gave her a shove and then the next thing he knew he was on the ground and the world went crazy. Bullets were flying everywhere... time stopped as he watched Gina fall just before making it to a place of safety. It took every ounce of strength he had to turn from her and fire at the shooters. When he was satisfied that they were no longer a threat, he raced toward her fallen body... but just as he neared her, others came out of the darkness and were kneeling next to her. He could see the pool of blood in which she lay by the light of the moon and the street lamp, and then he heard the words he couldn't bear to hear, "She's dead... Oh, my God! Princess Gina is dead!"

He remembered standing there dumbstruck, for the first time in his life having not a clue what to do. And then as the police sirens started in again, he bolted from the area, as fast as his injured body would allow. He had no choice but to run. Gina was dead and if he were to be apprehended, he'd spend some time in jail and then Stefano would take him back. If that happened, he would never be free. Stefano would soon learn what they had planned... and he would be livid, murderously angry and out for blood. However, he would not let John die swiftly or easily. That wasn't his style, for anyone who betrayed Stefano Dimera had to be made an example of; that was certain. Instead, he would cause pain beyond John's ability to endure, then would force him live out his life as Stefano's mercenary, controlled by brainwashing and threats of even more gruesome torture... A life of slavery was what it would amount to and John would rather die that submit to that man's mastery.

Suddenly, as he struggled with his aching head... and tried to determine what had gone wrong, it occurred to him... the woman! There was another woman besides Gina that Dimera had long coveted... The woman John had met along the Champ Elysees... could it be her? Of course... that's it! Yes... that's why the name was familiar.... Doctor Marlena Evans....wife of Roman Brady, the man Stefano hated, the man he killed several months back on the island. Stefano wanted to possess her but the timing had never been quite right and then she'd shot him. Strange how that seemed to make him want to have her even more. He hadn't talked about it recently.... 'He was always silent whenever he was in the planning mode.... maybe he's going to take her soon. But, he doesn't know she's here in Paris.... I'm sure of it!'

John Black grinned with a perverse sense of satisfaction, even as he felt the blood oozing out of his gut wound again, his crude bandage far from adequate. What a stroke of luck! John knew where she was... and she was a doctor... she could help him heal... and then maybe he could take her to Dimera as a peace offering. Maybe then he would be allowed to live... If he did that, there was even a chance he could get back in the man's good graces.

It wasn't much, but it was the only chance he had. Wounded and on the run from the authorities, he didn't have many options. Dimera's bloodhounds were everywhere and they had to be hot on his trail. By now, they must know he was Gina's accomplice in an escape plan and that he'd been hit that night too. Besides that, from the looks of what he'd been able to glance at in the papers, Dimera had leaked damaging information which might lead to John's eventual capture and conviction for other, much more serious crimes than art theft. Stefano was setting his plans for revenge in motion less than 24 hours after Gina's death.

Thinking back on the chance encounter with the lady shrink, John vaguely recalled seeing a folder on the table where she sat, one that mentioned something about Traumatic Stress, some sort of conference or symposium.

Now, to find the hotel where the conference was taking place.... John knew a concierge at the Hotel La Residence du Roy. What was her name? 'Ah yes, Patrice! He grinned on the memory of the way the tramp looked at him... 'She always wanted me....all I have to do is smile and look at her like the feeling is mutual and she'll find out for me... I know she will! Now, if I can only keep from passing out before I talk to her,' he thought... as a sense of light headedness settled in, casting a thin veil over his consciousness. Laboring to remain upright, John held onto the frame of the phone booth as he searched for the number....