Sue has given me permission to write a sequel to her story “The End.” This one has been running around in my mind for quite a while, so I finally decided to write it. I have taken away the beginning and end of her story.

"99, .. promise me .. you won't let them .. capture you. His breathing sounded harsh and hallow, struggling to hang on a little while longer. Tears filled 99's eyes, as her hand caressed his cheek. She knew exactly what he meant. She faced rape, torture and inevitable death at the hand of KAOS. She knew there were no options. For Max's last dying wish, 99 would not let KAOS capture her."I promise, my love." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small red capsule. Upon seeing it brought tears to Max's eyes. He knew what it was, and hoped he'd never see the day either of them would have to take one. It was too late for him, but 99 so young and alive, having to end her life this way was more than he could bear.
"99 .. " Max started to say.
99 put her fingers to his lips, "It’s the only way," 99 said calmly.
Max nodded, knowing she was right. He began to shiver.
"So tired .. and cold .., " Max whispered weakly.
He's dying, she thought with a shock. "Max, .. I love you, Max, oh Max," she sobbed, watching the life slowly drain out of him. 99 stroked his head, helping him through the last moments, trying to comfort the confusion that death brought.
99 brushed her lips lightly and tenderly against his. They were soft and warm. He found her hand and squeezed it. He began to feel an overwhelming sense of calm overtake his body. No more pain, just the comfort of being with the one he loved. With one last kiss, Maxwell Smart exhaled his last breath into her, his chest no longer rising and falling in the rhythm of life. Lifting up from his lips, she knew he was gone. 99 cradled him in her arms, pulling his limp form close to her. Her face next to his, softly kissing his cheek.

“Let’s go, 99,” He said.

“Where?” She asked. She squeezed his hand tightly.

Max pointed towards a bright light, shimmering in the distance.

“That way, I guess.”

99 smiled, “Good thinking, Max.” And they headed towards the light.

As the light grew brighter and more comforting, a specter appeared before them. The specter held up his hand, stopping them.

“Wait,” He said. The voice seemed to come to them in their minds, for the figure’s mouth didn’t move.

Max and 99 looked at each other in bewilderment.

“What . . .” 99 began.

The figure pointed behind them. Max and 99 looked around, but saw nothing. They turned back to the figure.

“You mean, we’re going to the other place?” Max questioned.

The specter actually let out a laugh. “No, Max.”

“How did you know my name?” Max asked. 99 nudged him in the ribs. He looked at her and winced in understanding.

“What have we done wrong?” 99 asked.

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why can’t we cross over?”

“Because you must go back.”

“Go back? How?” 99 asked. This time Max nudged her in the ribs.

99 changed her question. “Why? Why us?” Her voice trembled.

The specter shimmered before them, then spoke.

“99, you and Max love each other very much, do you not?”

Max and 99 looked at each other and nodded. Neither of them noticed that the ghostly apparition had called her by her agent number and not her name.

“The power of your love is very strong, the strongest I have seen in many years. You love your children, family and friends deeply. You sacrificed yourselves so they, and others, could live free. You need not forfeit your lives this way. Go back. Raise your children. Grow old together.”

Max spoke. “But I was shot in the chest and 99 took a deadly poison. How do we explain to everyone how . . .” His voice tailed off. They clung to each other tightly, not knowing what to expect next.

“Tell them whatever you think you should tell them.”

“Can we tell them the truth?”

“Certainly.”

Max and 99 turned.

“Wait,” The figure said.

“You’ve changed your mind?” Max asked.

The specter laughed again. “No, Max.”

Max lowered his head in embarrassment. “Sorry about that,” He muttered.

“You have a very rough road ahead of you, Max. It will take you time to recover, and you’ll endure a lot of pain. 99, you’ll be his strength, his reason to live. You and your children. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” They both said together.

As they started back, Max turned to the spirit. “Who are you?” He asked.

“Michael.”

99 slowly opened her eyes. The bright light caused her to shut her eyes against it.

A sudden fear gripped her and she opened them again . . . and saw the Chief standing beside her bed and her left arm connected to an IV line.

“99?” The Chief eyes were wide in shock.

“Chief?” 99 managed to say, grabbing his hand. “Max . . .”

“He’s out of surgery. He’s in ICU and he’s expected to make a full recovery.” The Chief’s face was pale.

“What happened?” 99 asked.

“I . . . I don’t know. All I know is Larabee was hysterical when we found you and insisted on checking your pulses to make sure you were really . . . dead.”

“And?”

“He found a pulse on both of you, a strong steady pulse,” He stopped and lowered his eyes to the floor. “Neither of you had one when we got there,” He said, almost to himself.

He looked up. “We rushed you to the hospital. They pumped and flushed out your stomach. They rushed Max to surgery. He lost half of his left lung and part of his stomach, but he came through fine.”

99 tried to sit up, but she was too weak. She fell back against the pillow.

At that moment, a doctor entered the room.

“Mrs. Smart?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Dr. Denton. How are you feeling?”

“I’m a little dizzy, weak. I’m more worried about Max.”

“He’s critical but stable. He’s going to make it.” The doctor said. He frowned. “There’s no explanation for either of you being alive.”

99 ignored the comment, but the Chief shot him an angry look. “They are alive and that’s all that matters,” he snapped.

“When can I see him?” 99 asked.

“Tomorrow. Get some sleep. You can’t do him or yourself any good if you try to get out of bed now.”

99 nodded. “Okay. Tomorrow. Tomorrow . . .”

And she drifted off into a troubled asleep.

The next morning the Chief pushed 99 to Max’s room in a wheelchair. She was feeling better, but was still too weak to walk. She had been so anxious to see Max she had not wanted to eat breakfast. This had escalated into an argument with the nurse, who told her if she didn’t eat, she wasn’t going anywhere. 99 knew the nurse was right and agreed.

The Chief stopped the wheelchair in front of Max’s room and knelt next to her.

“There are a few things you need to know, 99. He’s hooked up to a lot of monitors, a ventilator, a trach tube, and an IV. He’s also got a drain coming out of his chest. 99, he’s still critical. The doctors aren’t sure he’ll . . .”

“He’s going to make it,” 99 said with conviction.

“I don’t want you to be scared or shocked by his appearance.”

“Scared?? Shocked? How could I be scared or shocked about anything after . . .” She stopped, deciding not to say anything . . . just yet.

“What?” The Chief asked.

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking out loud.” She motioned towards the door.

The Chief wheeled her into the room.

What she saw didn’t scare her. She breathed a sigh of relief as she watched Max’s chest rise up and down on it’s own, without the help of the ventilator.

The Chief pulled the wheelchair as close to the bed as possible. He patted her shoulder and left.

99 kissed Max’s hand, then pressed it against her cheek, comforted by the warmth. Her right hand caressed his cheek, her fingers running gently over his whole face. His eyes, his forehead, cheek and jaw.

“I love you, Max,” She said.

His eyes opened slightly at her touch and words. His eyes finally found hers and he smiled at her around the tube. “Love you,” He mouthed, squeezing her hand with amazing strength.

Tears welled up in 99’s eyes as she squeezed his hand in return, her other hand still soothingly caressed his cheek.

“Okay?” He mouthed in concern, tears forming in his eyes.

99 wiped a tear from his cheek. “A little tired. Are you in a lot of pain?”

Max nodded. “And loving it,” He mouthed.

99 sat on a chair next to Max, who was sitting in a chair beside his hospital bed. He had been moved to a private room, and although his recovery was amazing, he was still in a great deal of pain. His stomach was giving him more problems than the lost half lung. He hated the liquefied food he was forced to eat, but he was able to walk short distances and spent most of the day in the chair instead of the bed.

The twins had been staying with Larabee, but because of the seriousness of Max’s injuries, her Mother had flown to Washington had taken them back to Twin Falls until Max had recovered fully enough to go home. It was going to be a daunting task, 99 thought, taking care of all of them. But there was no way she was going to complain. She had her life, her family, but most importantly, she had her beloved Max by her side.

The Chief and the doctor entered the room, shutting it behind them.

“ ’Morning, Chief, Doc,” Max said brightly.

“Okay, I’m going to lay it on the line here,” The doctor said. “You both should be dead. Dead. Do you understand? There’s no plausible justification for either of you to be sitting here talking to us right now. 99, you took enough poison to kill three people. When we pumped your stomach, we found part of the capsule, but very little of the poison. There was enough in your system to make you pretty sick, but I have no idea what happened to the rest of it. It was just gone. Do you have any explanation?”

“Not really,” 99 said.

“Max, you were shot in the chest. The bullet should have sliced through your heart and lung, killing you in a matter of minutes. You were shot at close range . . .”

“Yes,” Max said.

“How do you explain a bullet entering your left chest, penetrating your lung, then taking a 90° downward turn and entering your stomach? What do we have here, another ‘magic bullet’ ”?

Max shrugged.

“It makes no sense! That bullet should have torn you apart.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“We have something to tell you,” 99 said, gripping Max’s hand tightly. She looked at him for support, not knowing where to start.

“I’ll tell them,” Max said, squeezing her hand.

He turned back to the Chief and the Doctor.

“We were sent back.”

“You were what?” The Chief asked.

“We were sent back.”

“Sent back where? By whom?”

“We were sent back by the Archangel Michael.”

The Doctor threw his clipboard in the air and it clattered to the floor. “Oh, please.”

“Why don’t you listen to us before you start thinking we’re insane?” 99 asked.

Max continued. “We were dead. The chest wound killed me. I made 99 promise that she wouldn’t be captured, raped and tortured.”

“You asked her to take that pill?” The Chief asked incredulously.

“I did. And she did. She held me in her arms as I died. Then she took the pill. We found each other and were walking towards this bright light when . . .”

“Bright light . . .” The doctor muttered.

The Chief gave him a cautionary look. “Go on, Max,” He said.

“This figure stopped us,” Max continued.

Together, Max and 99 Max told the Chief and the doctor the whole story. When they finished, they were being stared at in total silence.

The doctor spoke first. “I’ve heard some bizarre tales in my years as a doctor, but this one takes the cake,” he said.

Max stared at him angrily. “This was given to us, we didn’t ask for it. What could we possibly hope to gain by lying? We certainly aren’t looking for publicity, we’re spies, for Heaven’s sake. We don’t want our pictures plastered all over the front page of the Washington Post with the headline, ‘Spies Return From The Dead.’ ” He winced, clutching at his left side in pain.

“Max, calm down, Love,” 99 said, putting a calming hand on his shoulder She turned to the doctor. “Why don’t you believe us?” She asked.

“Because it couldn’t possibly happen. The poison and the wounds should have killed you.”

“They did kill us,” 99 replied softly. “Haven’t you been listening?”

“I’ve been listening.”

“I don’t care what you believe or don’t believe, Doctor,” Max said. He turned to the Chief. “How about you? Do you believe us?”

The Chief had been watching the whole scenario in silence. Now he spoke for the first time. “I believe you.”

The doctor shook his head and picked up his clipboard.

Max breathed a sigh of relief. “I want to go home, Doc. When can I go home?”

“You’re temperature is still up a bit. We’ve got to make sure no infections are setting in. How about the day after tomorrow? That’s . . .” the doctor looked at his watch. “ . . . December 23^rd. How does that sound?”

“GREAT!!!” Max said excitedly. “My mother-in-law’s coming for Christmas.”

“I’d want to stay in the hospital,” The doctor said. He stared at the ground. “Look, I want to apologize. I’m a medical man, I deal in realities. Maybe . . .” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to put on your charts. I can attribute your recoveries to nothing more than a miracle, two miracles. But ‘Miracle From the Archangel Michael’ isn’t going to cut it. I’m at a loss . . .”

“I want to thank you, Doctor,” 99 said. “Your little stomach pump saved me. And your surgery saved Max’s life. So, in reality, you saved us too. Thank you,” She gave him a hug and light kiss on the cheek.

The doctor’s face reddened and he turned.

“Doc?” Max called out.

The doctor turned back to him. Max threw him a kiss.

The doctor shook his head and waved a hand at Max, fighting back a smile. “I’ll see you in the morning,” He said, leaving.

Max and 99 grinned at each other.

“I’ve got to get back to headquarters,” The Chief said. His face was haggard. “See you tomorrow.” He hesitated a moment, then took both of them into his arms, hugging them. “Oh, Lord, I’m so glad you’re alive. I love you so much.”

The three of them stood there for several minutes, holding each other.

“I’ve gotta go,” The Chief said, pulling away quickly and leaving the room.

“99?”

“Yes, Love?”

“Let’s go for a walk before I go to bed.” He got to his feet and took her arm.

They took their time walking to the waiting room at the end of the hall. The windows revealed a beautiful view of a Christmas lit Washington, D. C. A light snow had fallen and the Christmas lights from the hospital grounds glittered off the snow, reflecting the colorful lights softly back on the windows.

“Oh, 99, isn’t that beautiful?” Max exclaimed.

“It certainly is,” 99 replied. But she wasn’t looking at the lights, she was looking at her Max.

“Let’s sit and watch,” Max said, sitting down on a sofa under the window.

99 sat beside him and they sat in silence, watching the lights. It began to snow again, bringing an even bigger, child-like smile to Max’s face.

“They’re calling for a white Christmas this year,” 99 said.

“Just wait. When the kids get older, we’re going to build a snow fort and ambush a certain innocent Mom when she least expects it.”

“Oh you are, are you? What makes you think I’ll be so ill prepared for your attack? We may just ambush you. Did you think about that?”

Max and 99 stopped at the door of their apartment.

“Okay, I know those keys are somewhere,” 99 said, digging in her purse.

“Come, on, 99 . . . you didn’t loose ’em did you?”

“No, no, they’re right here,” She said, dangling the keys in front of his face.

She unlocked the door, but held up her hand to Max.

“Wait a minute, Love, let me get the light.”

She disappeared into the apartment, but the light didn’t go on. Worried, Max stepped into the apartment just as 99 flipped the switch, turning on the lights on a huge, brightly lit and decorated 12 foot tree standing to the left of the steps, in front of the window, in the little nook near the bar.

Max shut the door. “It’s magnificent, 99!!“

Max went over to get a closer look at the tree. It had all of 99’s ornaments from her childhood, ornaments from the twins’ birth year and several photo ornaments of the whole family from the twins’ first Christmas. Prominently displayed on the front of the tree was a tacky, green, red, gold and silver plastic star Max had made for his mother when he was seven. It was the only decoration Max had from his childhood. He had sneaked it out of the house when he left home for good when he was 18.

“It’s beautiful, Sweetheart. Did you do this all by yourself?” He asked tiredly, sitting down in the old, comfortable, overstuffed loveseat 99 had brought from her old apartment.

“Hymie carried it up for me, but I did all the decorations,” 99 replied. “Max, we need to talk.”

“Your Mom’s coming, right?” Max asked, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

“You know she is. But that’s not what I want to talk about and you know it.”

Max ran his fingers through his hair. “You saw the doctor’s reaction. I’m scared, 99.”

She sat down on the arm of the chair. “Scared of what, Love?” She asked, putting an arm around him.

“You know what.”

“That’s why we have to talk about it.”

“Why did he let us come back, 99? What makes us different? There are so many good people he could have sent back . . . Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King. Why us?“ He buried his face in her shoulder. “I’m confused,”

99 cradled him in her arms. “Love, he said it was because . . .”

“I know what he said, but I still don’t understand,” He interrupted.

“I don’t either,” 99 said, stroking his head. “All I know is we’re alive, and we get to see our kids grow up.”

“Maybe . . .” Max said, lifting his head and wiping his eyes. “Maybe we aren’t supposed to understand.”

“You may be right, Love,” 99 agreed.

They smiled at each other.

“Look, 99, it’s snowing harder,” Max said, pointing to the window.

The phone rang, interrupting the quiet moment.

“Hi, Mom,” She said.

As Max watched, the look on her face changed. “Oh, no,” she said. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. Stay safe. Sure, he’s right here.”

99 handed the phone to Max, then turned on the radio behind the bar to catch the weather forecast. The Washington area was expecting a lot more than a ‘white Christmas”, they were going to get what amounted to a mini-blizzard, with at least a foot of snow expected over the next 24 hours. The weatherman went on to say that other places in the country were experiencing similar severe winter weather and mentioned several cites out West, including the Twin Falls area.

99 sat down next to Max as he talked. He was telling her Mom he was doing okay, but was still in some pain. As he listened to her, a look of disappointment came over his face. He turned to 99 and she motioned to the radio, then to the window. She raised her hands approximately a foot apart.

“That much?” He mouthed. He returned to the conversation. “We’re expecting at least a foot or more here too, Mom,” He paused, listening. “We love you too. Okay. Bye.”

“Mom and the kids aren’t going to make it for Christmas,” 99 said, her eyes filling.

“I know,” Max said.

“Darn,” Her voice was full of emotion.

Max bit the inside of his lip and took her hand. “99, it’s okay,” He said.

“Huh?”

“It’s okay.”

“How can you say that?” 99 asked, tears rolling down her face.

He looked away for a moment, then turned back to her with a resolute look on his face. “We’re alive, 99. Alive! Do you believe that? And we’re together. It could be a whole lot worse. We could be dead.”

“Max!!”

“I want you to stop it, 99. I want you to think of what we have, what we could have lost. What we almost did lose.”

“I have thought about it. I’ve had plenty of time to think while you were laying in that hospital bed,” 99 retorted. “About a lot of things.”

“I had a lot of time to think too, Sweetheart. And you know what?”

“What?”

“I come to the conclusion that what used to be important in my life just isn’t anymore.”

99 looked at him strangely. “Like what?”

“You know that being a spy has always been one of the most important things in the world to me, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s not any more, and it hasn’t been for a long time. What happened to us caused the reality of it to come crashing down on me. I can’t lose you, 99. I love you better than the whole world.”

“Oh, Max, I love you more than anything in the world. But . . . ”

“But what? You’re upset because your Mom and the twins can’t be here?”

“Yes, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but as soon as the weather clears your Mom and the twins will be here and we’ll have our family Christmas.”

“I know . . .” Her voice still wasn’t in it.

“99 we’re together. Remember what Michael said?”

“Every word.” 99 said.

“Well, then?” Max paused.

99 shook her head, still disappointed.

“99, could you get me a glass of Egg Nog?”

“Sure, Love. I’ll be right back,” 99 said, disappearing into the kitchen.

When she came back out, all the lights were off. The tree, framed by the window and the falling snow, was absolutely gorgeous.

“Max?” 99 called out, sitting the glasses down on the bar.

Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring

Snowing and blowing up bushels of fun

Now the jingle hop has begun

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock

Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time

Dancing and prancing in Jingle Bell Square

To rock the night away

Jingle bell time is a swell time

To go gliding in a one-horse sleigh

Giddy-up jingle horse, pick up your feet

Jingle around the clock

Mix and a-mingle in the jingling feet

That's the jingle bell,

99 laughed, cried and applauded all at the same time.

“Oh, Max . . .” She said, her spirits rebounding.

He grinned at her, out of breath.

“Oh, Max, sit down.”

“Good idea, 99,” Max replied, sitting back down in the chair. “Whew! I must be getting old.”

99 handed him a glass of Egg Nog and picked up the microphone.

As Max watched in delight, she selected a song on the record, then stood in front of the tree.

At the Christmas party hop,

Mistletoe hung where you can see,

Every couple tries to stop,

Rockin' around the Christmas tree,

Let the Christmas spirit ring,

You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear,

Voices singing, "Let's be jolly,

Deck the halls with boughs of holly",

Everyone dancin' merrily,

You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear,

Rockin' around the Christmas tree,

Have a happy holiday,

Everyone dancin' merrily,

Max was laughing so hard he almost couldn’t catch his breath.

99 sat down next to him and took a big gulp of Egg Nog.

“You gonna drink that or did I waste my time?” 99 kidded, motioning to his glass.

Max took a sip. “You do have a Christmas dinner in that refrigerator, don’t you, 99?” His breathing returning to normal.

“There’s so much food . . .”

“All the more for us then!” Max said, his eyes twinkling.

“You can’t pig out like you usually do, young man,” 99 replied. “You just went back on semi-solid food. We’re gonna have to chop your food in the food processor.”

“I don’t care, you can make a milkshake out of it for all I care,” Max said, kissing her. “It’s Christmas! The season of miracles.”

“It certainly is,” 99 replied, kissing him back. “It certainly is . . .”

Jodi Goldfinger   12/03

*“Jingle Bell Rock” - Written By Beal-Boothe. Originally sung by Bobby Helms