The first thing Rex saw was a brilliantly bright light, but eventually it faded into the dim lights of a room. His eyes jerked from side-to-side in an attempt to gather his bearings. Where was he? He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Rex tried to lift himself up, but he was too weak.

“Get a check on his vitals, will you Slusarski?” The doctor looked at Rex and smiled. “You're lucky to be alive you know. You took a hit to the lung, one just missed your heart by a fraction of an inch, and you took a pretty bad one to the arm.”

Then it all came back to him…

Rex grabbed a vase off the nearest table and hurled it at Iris, but it veered harmlessly off to the side. “You won't get away with this. They already think you murdered Afton and Mitch Cooper. Go ahead and add me to that list…you'll spend the rest of your life in prison.”

Iris shook her head. “No…I kind of like your idea about leaving Dallas and going on the run. Nobody will ever catch me. Like you once said, the long arm of the law doesn't stretch very far when you have a bank account the size of ours, right Rex?” Before Rex could climb back to his feet, Iris squeezed the trigger two more times and Rex flew backwards and then he sank to the floor.

“Rot in hell, Rex.”

“You're all stabilized now,” Dr. Rosemond assured Rex.

“I…Iris,” Rex whispered.

Dr. Rosemond picked up on what Rex was trying to say. “I don't blame you at all. If my wife looked like yours, I'd want to see her too. She's probably the best medicine you could have right now.” The doctor stepped out into the hallway and Rex's eyes went wide when he watched Iris follow him into the room. “Come on guys, let's clear the room and let Mrs. Wentworth spend a few minutes with him.”

Rex frantically tried to shake his head, but it was to no avail. He found himself in the room all alone with Iris. She smiled and walked over to his bedside. “You don't look so good Rex. You look like you've been through a lot.” Iris ran her finger across his face and down to his chin. “What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

Iris listened to the reassuring sound of the respirator. “It's a shame that bullet couldn't have been just a little more to the left and then the two of us wouldn't be having this conversation today.”

Rex used the remainder of his strength to whisper one word. “Bitch.”

“Rex! I'm surprised at you. One would think that an experience such as this would change a man like you for the better, but apparently this didn't teach you a thing.” Iris bit her finger and then turned back around. “You look so vulnerable, lying there, hooked up to that respirator. It'll be a while before your lung heals up enough for you to breath on your own and until then, you're all dependent on this little machine. I bet you've already thought about all the little things that could happen to a machine like that, haven't you Rex? Being the smart man that you are?”

Iris took the air hose in her hand and followed it back to the machine. “A little tug and this would pop right out. Or, the whole thing could always come unplugged. Better yet, I could just pinch the hose together and watch you attempt to draw your last breath. So many ways to die in here, when you're in the situation you're in. Ironic, don't you think? That a man as powerful as you can be finished off by something so simple as me cutting your airline? It's so anti-dramatic it's almost disappointing.”

Iris stood up and walked around the bed until she was facing the window. She looked out across the Dallas skyline as the sun slowly rose into the sky, turning it all into a mural of bright pink and orange. “I could think of a lot of others who would just love to be in my shoes right now. Bobby, Pam, Cliff, J.R., even your dearest Kaitlin. Tell me Rex, does it bother you to know that you're about to die and that you'll never get the chance to make up with Kaitlin? You'll die with her still hating your guts.”

Iris turned back to Rex and then she walked over to his respirator. “It's time for you to make your grand exit and this time, there won't be any narrow escapes.”

She stopped when the door to the room abruptly swung open and Dr. Rosemond stepped in. “Mrs. Wentworth, I'm afraid that's all the time I can allow you to spend with Mr. Wentworth right now. We still need to run some follow-up tests.”

Rex squirmed in the hospital bed and tried to tell the doctor what Iris had planned, but he couldn't make the words come out. Iris looked at Dr. Rosemond and smiled. “Doctor, he seems so agitated. Maybe he needs another pillow?”

“I'll have one of my nurses check it out.”

Iris looked back at Rex and winked. “Don't worry about a thing Rex. I'm here for you.”

They had spent most of the night sitting in the swing, listening to the sounds of the night—crickets chirping off in the grass, the buzz of a flying bug, an occasional frog croaking from some nearby puddle of water. All of these sounds reassured Lucy. They were sounds from a childhood spent at Southfork Ranch—a more carefree time in her life.

She heard Neil yawn and then felt his hands running through her blonde hair. Lucy looked up at him and smiled. “Good morning,” she said.

“Tell me we didn't sleep all night in this swing?”

Lucy nodded. “Yes we did.”

“Ouch.” Neil pulled her close to him and looked out across the yard. The sun was just beginning to peek over the tops of the trees and houses. He intended to take in every color, every reflection, everything. Neil wanted to view each sunrise as if it were his last, because each one very well could be. “But it was the most amazing night. I want to do more spontaneous stuff like this, ya know? Something to break the monotony of day-to-day life. Even something as little as this.”

Lucy smiled and gave him a quick kiss as a car pulled up to the drive. “Speaking of spontaneous surprises, I have one for you.” She stood up and stretched out her sore legs before walking out to meet the car.

“Who is that?” Neil called out. “Your grandmother?”

“You'll see in a minute!” Lucy waved to the car and Miss Ellie stepped out of the driver's seat. Just a second later, the passenger's door flew open and Tiffany Lancaster climbed out.

Once Neil saw his daughter, he wasted no time meeting her in the yard and the force of her running into his arms almost knocked him flat. “Daddy!” she screamed. “Are you surprised??”

Neil almost couldn't speak. A lump formed in his throat and he tried his best to swallow it. “Surprised? You bet!”

Tiffany smiled and hugged her father. “Good, because Lucy wanted to surprise you and I guess we did a good job didn't we?”

Neil held her tightly and then looked across the yard at Lucy. He smiled at her and Lucy smiled back, happy that she could brighten his day. She turned back to Ellie. “Thanks so much for picking her up at the airport Grandma. This means a lot to Neil…you have no idea.”

Ellie nodded. “Oh, I think I do. When you're sick, there's nothing like the love of a child to help heal.”

Lucy sighed. “He's not getting any better. He still refuses to take any sort of treatment.”

“And you're hoping that spending time with his daughter will change his mind?” Ellie asked.

“It's worth a shot.” Lucy went quiet while she watched Tiffany and Neil make up for lost time and then she turned back to Ellie. “He lost both of his parents to cancer, so I think he thinks there's no hope. He saw them both go through treatment and the effects of that…and then he still lost them. I think he's afraid to give himself hope.”

“Hope is something no one should be without.” Ellie looked her granddaughter in the eyes and put her hands on Lucy's shoulders. “Do you still have it?”

“It's all I have left.”

“Quit complaining,” J.R. groaned back. “You're not the one who spent all of yesterday out with Mrs. Davis. You'd think a woman her age would stop around two drinks...”

Sue Ellen managed a laugh. “You never told me, how did you convince her to go along with the deal?” She asked.

“I told her if she didn't, I'd have her house burned down and I'd ship her off to a sanitarium...” he said sarcastically. “I can't tell you, Sue Ellen, there are some tricks of this business that you're just not ready for. Say, were you screwin' around with my phone? I swear, if I hear the Bonanza theme one more time...”

“What's the matter? Are you afraid Little Joe might turn out to be a long-lost Ewing?” She asked with a wry grin.

“You just think you're so funny, don't you?” He asked, annoyed. “I just think worrying about the nit-wits of Southfork is enough without having to care about the gang at The Ponderosa...”

“Talk about cranky,” Sue Ellen said.

“Are you trying to get a rise out of me? Because you ain't gonna get one, Sugar. Now, do you wanna just shut your mouth until we get back to the ranch?”

The plane went quiet for a few minutes, then Sue Ellen spoke. “Why are you so keen on going to Africa? You've said yourself, thousands of times, that Ewing Oil belongs in Texas.”

“You're right, it does...but remember the Asian wells? That took this company from a multi-million dollar business to a multi-billion dollar empire. Bobby's deal with the McLeish brothers in Canada won him the contest for the company, and then, there's South America...”

“South America?” Sue Ellen asked. “What fields has Ewing ever had there?”

“Not the company, Sue Ellen...believe it or not, there have been things in my life that rank higher in importance than Ewing Oil. I'm talking about Daddy...this whole thing with Africa is about Daddy. I could care less if we come back with a trunk full of cash or the deed to a thousand dry holes all over the continent; the point is, we need...I need to at least try. Did you know that the government never even sent Mama a sympathy card? Not one person involved with the project besides Dave Culver even came to the memorial service. What the hell is that all about?”

The jet went quiet again, and J.R. took off his reading glasses and rested them back in their case. “Land at the Southfork air strip,” he instructed the pilot. I need to talk to Mama... he thought to himself.

“I want to know just what the hell is going on? Why is my daughter here?”

“Daddy,” Becky whispered. If anyone could get her out, he could.

His voice grew louder. “That is absolutely ridiculous! As soon as I speak to my daughter, I want to have a word with someone in charge here. This has to be some kind of ridiculous mistake!” Cliff rounded the corner and approached his daughter's cell. “Pamela Rebecca, don't worry about a thing. I'll have you out of here in a jiffy.” Cliff looked around and waved an arm at the guard. “Never mind later…get me somebody in charge now!”

Becky ran over to the bars and took Cliff's hand. “You've got to get me out of this place!”

“Just what on earth happened?” Cliff's eyes were wide and his face was red from anger. The nerve of them, locking his only daughter up like this.

“I went to see Megan and I took her back to our house. The next thing I know, Christopher and the police show up and I'm arrested.”

“For what? Kidnapping?” Cliff didn't give her a chance to answer. “They can't arrest you for kidnapping your own daughter! That's not even kidnapping!”

“Fraud.”

“Fraud? Well that's even more ridiculous. Which magic hat did they pull that out of?”

“He claims I doctored Megan's paternity test results or something. It was all one big piece of confusion and he thinks I'm responsible.”

Cliff ran his fingers through his hair and then he gripped the cold steel bars of the cell. “Christopher did all of this then?”

Becky nodded. “Christopher and Karen.”

“Nice try Pamela Rebecca.” Christopher walked up to the cell. “Hello Uncle Cliff.”

“Christopher, just what the hell is going on here? This has to be some big misunderstanding or something.”

“I can understand you wanting to believe that is the case, but let me assure you—it's not. Your daughter is a pathological liar and a fraud and if she won't confess to it, then I've got the tape to prove it. You can hear it with your own ears either way.” Christopher gave Becky a cold stare.

Cliff looked from his nephew back to his daughter. “Pamela Rebecca?”

Becky broke eye contact and stared down at the cold, gray floor. “I only did what I thought was best for Megan.”

Christopher smiled and shook his head. “What did I tell you? She's a pathological liar. She used Megan as an excuse the whole time, just to be with John Ross. As long as she was his daughter, then they had a common bond and she could use that to her advantage.” Christopher walked closer to her cell and looked her in the eye. “Could you tell the truth now? Just for once in your life?”

Becky's voice cracked and her eyes went blurry from gathering tears. “I love John Ross. I just wanted to be with him.”

“So what you're saying is, you had the paternity results doctored to make it appear as if John Ross was Megan's father, instead of Christopher? Just so you could be with John Ross?” Cliff couldn't believe all of this.

“Yes!” she screamed.

Once again, Christopher stared her down. “I'm going to make sure you're punished to the fullest extent of the law. You didn't have any right to screw with me the way you did!” Christopher lunged for Pamela Rebecca through the bars, but she stepped back.

Cliff put an arm around Christopher's shoulder and pulled him back. “Christopher,” he whispered. “We need to talk…in private.”

Christopher nodded. “I need to have a second with your daughter before I can agree to that.”

“That's fine. I'll see you back up front.”

Once Cliff was gone, Christopher looked back at Pamela Rebecca and stepped closer to her cell. “I hope you're enjoying your stay here.”

Pamela Rebecca looked at him with a pleading look in her eyes. “Please don't do this.” She tried to take his hand in hers, but Christopher pulled his away.

“You're not in control anymore, Pamela Rebecca. I am. Begging and pleading is going to get you nowhere with me.” Christopher shoved his hands in his pockets. “I just wanted you to know that I'm the one calling all the shots now…and I'll do anything to protect my daughter.”

“Christopher, please! We can work something out!” Chris turned to walk away. “Don't you remember what we had before? We loved each other! We conceived our daughter out of love. Have you forgotten about the night in the hayloft? The storm?”

Christopher stopped, but didn't turn around.

“I loved you Christopher. Then Karen's father dropped the bombshell on John Ross and Karen's wedding…told everyone that me and John Ross had slept together. Then you just dropped me like a sack of old trash.”

“I would have forgiven you, but then you became obsessed with John Ross," Christopher said without turning around.

“Because I thought I had lost you already.”

“It's in the past.” Christopher started walking towards the door again.

“And so are my mistakes. Doctoring the paternity results was a stupid move on my part, I'll admit that. Isn't that what you wanted to hear?”

Christopher turned around. “I want to hear it because you truly mean it, not just because you want to get out of here.”

“I'm sorry, I really am.” Becky stretched out a hand and clasped Christopher's in it. “I want to do what's best for Megan…and that wouldn't be taking her away from you. But you are going to have to do the same and understand that despite the way you feel about me, I am her mother. Our daughter needs both of her parents—her biological parents. We both know that. I was raised without my father and you were raised for the most part without your mother. Does a day go by that you don't regret that?”

Christopher shook his head. “I regret it every single day. I never knew my biological parents, but then I lost the only mother I ever knew too.”

Becky smiled and put her other hand around Christopher's. “We have to give Megan better than what me and you had.” Christopher was quiet. “Isn't that what you want for her?”

“I want what's best for her, you know that. I'm just not sure what that is.”

“Yes you are. You're just afraid to admit it.”

Christopher pulled his hands out of her grip. “I'm not sure that your being a part of her life is the best thing for Megan right now.” Before Pamela Rebecca could say anything else, Christopher left the room.

He rounded the corner and found Cliff sitting in a nearby chair. “What do you want?” Christopher asked.

“I want you to drop these charges against Pamela Rebecca…call off your goons, or whatever you want to call it.”

“If I do that, she'll take Megan the first chance she gets. Whether it be by kidnapping her again, or by suing me for custody.”

Cliff shook his head. “If you drop the charges, then you have my word that she won't try anything. All I ask is that you let her be a part of Megan's life…let Megan spend the weekend with her or something, anything…”

Christopher pondered the proposal. “Why should I believe you have any control over her? No one else does…except for me right now.”

“Alright, that's fair enough. You don't know that I have control over her. Hell, I don't know that I have any control over her, but you can't let her rot in jail! Besides, you'll always have this to hold over her head and do you honestly think she could win in a custody battle now, with what she did?”

Cliff was right. There was no way. “Becky is my cousin…in a roundabout, convoluted, sort of way. I don't want her in jail and I don't want Megan to grow up resenting me for keeping her away from her mother.”

Cliff smiled and the two men hugged. “I knew you'd do the right thing.”

“Yeah.” Christopher stared across the room. “I just hope this decision doesn't come back to haunt me.”

Wendell, like the other directors, had the key card to the top floor and as he swiped it through, a large smirk grew on his face. The doors opened and he rode for better than a minute to the top floor. After a terse greeting to the bodyguards at the doors, Wendell strode into the room with a confidant air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Rex Wentworth has been shot", he said, wasting no time cutting to the chase. Wendell dropped a newspaper with a headline "DALLAS OIL LEADER SHOT" on the large table. Under the caption, there was a picture of Rex with an oxygen mask on. He would have to remember to send the newspaper staff a nice bonus for that.

Stephen Dent, John Savory, and Kaitlin Ryan all looked at the picture with shock. McKenna and Alyssa Thompson were missing from the meeting.

"Daddy", Kaitlin said though her surprise at the severe picture, "We need to wait until Mr. McKenna and Alyssa show up."

Wendell smirked. "No, I think not. You see, they have signed over proxies of their voting rights to me." Wendell popped his briefcase open and pulled out three red file folders. Each board member was handed a folder and each was further surprised to see that Wendell was serious.

"Mr. Wendell, I see that you now vote for half of the Board of Directors," John Savory said. "What tells me that you have another announcement for us?"

Wendell walked over to the large chair reserved for the Chairman of the board and sat down. “While I can't have Mr. Wentworth removed from the Board, I can make a motion to you, the Directors. I feel that while he is...incapacitated," he said as Kaitlin glared at him, "I would be the ideal Chairman until he returns."

Dent spoke for the first time, as Wendell had coached him on the phone that morning. "Mr. Wendell, I make a motion for you to be voted in as the Chairman of the board, in the absence of Mr. Wentworth."

Savory seconded the motion. Kaitlin knew her father all too well. She closed her eyes, knowing how the rest of this was going to happen. "I vote three votes for Jeremy Wendell as Chairman," Wendell said.

"I vote against!" Kaitlin said as she suddenly rose.

"I vote for Jeremy Wendell," Dent said.

"I vote for Jeremy Wendell." Savory said evenly. He knew this would do wonders for his bank's interest in the company.

A triumphant Wendell smiled. "Thank you for your trust in me, Board members. Ms. Secretary? Please record that I am assuming the duties of Chairman and CEO until Rex Wentworth returns. Meeting adjourned."

Savory shook hands with Wendell as he exited and so did Dent. Kaitlin waited until they were alone and Wendell was preparing to go. "You are heartless. Rex may be dying and you're just waiting for it!"

"Kaitlin, really," Wendell replied. "Your boyfriend will most likely be fine. I just want to make sure that the company is in good shape when he returns."

"You're a liar!" she said as her breathing grew harder. "You don't give a damn about anything but West Star!"

Wendell dropped his briefcase on the table, and glared at her. "Do you know what it's like to live for something?"

"I don't give a damn!" she said as she headed for the door. Wendell stood in her way. His look was so forceful that she stopped in her tracks. His tone was cold and low.

"Listen to me, Kaitlin. I have lived my entire professional life for West Star oil. I was here when that damned fool Davis was running the company like it was a fast food restaurant. I was here when I turned the company into a power. I MADE West Star what it is and IT IS MINE." Kaitlin was shocked to see her father so intense. "And I plan on making sure that I have this company back for good,” he said in his normal voice as he took his briefcase and left the room.

Kaitlin looked around the empty room and to the city skyline. Jeremy Wendell wouldn't be happy until he had West Star again. Maybe it was time for her to contemplate what her options were.

He stood up and walked over to the window, where he looked out at the West Star headquarters, totally unaware of Rex Wentworth's shooting the day before. Damn this deal...he thought to himself, as he considered the fate of the company he had worked so hard to build. He was finally a success, and now Rex Wentworth would ruin it for him.

Then, behind him, the company's accounting department began filing in, one by one. First was Brent Evans, who he had hired mere days after the establishment of TCG...then came Kara Jacobs, the department head who had transferred over from West Star when J.R. had taken over as Chairman. Next was Jennifer Burton who had served faithfully at Wentworth Industries, and finally came Leo Wakefield, who had been his right-hand man since the days of Barnes-Wentworth. It was hard to fathom any of them betraying him.

Cliff sat back down in his plush chair and eyed the group. “Alright, let's have it,” he said solemnly. “You all know why you're here; I want to know who leaked the information on the Wentworth deal to the press.”

There was silence. Clearly, no one wanted to admit to this. Cliff spoke again: “You all know that it's company policy that no one talks to the press, or the public, unless it's through me, which is why I'm incredibly disappointed. You also know that violation of this policy will result in immediate termination.”

Evans whispered something to Burton, and Cliff noticed.

“Is there something that you'd like to share with the group?” Cliff asked, the anger in his voice clear.

“I was just suggesting to Jennifer that if you were to terminate one of us, it would only prove to the public that there's truth to the story,” he said meekly. “With all due respect, Sir...the Wentworth deal is destroying the company...all of our crude is locked in to that deal, and we're in incredible danger of defaulting. And, it's not only your neck; if TCG goes under, we're very likely out of our jobs.”

“I know, I realize that,” Cliff started, “and I apologize. But what you- or whichever one of you made the leak- don't seem to understand is that the stockholders are going to start asking questions, now. They're going to want to know if it's true, and if it is true, why we misled them. And, we don't need that aggravation while we're trying to find a way out,” Cliff explained.

He rose. “And so, Mr. Evans, the only way out of this for the good of the company is for one of you, whoever did it, to step up to the plate. I will expect your resignation on my desk by 4:00 this afternoon, or I will be forced to let you all go.”

He let his words sink in before adding, “hopefully you're big enough to confess to this mistake and save your colleagues their jobs.”

The elevator made a ding sound and the double doors opened. As he gazed around the office, the receptionist spoke to him. “Mr. Ewing?” Obviously, J.R.'s face was a recognizable one.

“Yes?” He asked.

“Mr. Barnes has left instructions for you to be shown right in,” she said.

J.R. laughed. “Well, I guess it pays to make an appointment, doesn't it, Darlin?” He beamed. “No need to get up, Sugar...I know my way around.”

He continued through, past the secretaries, and to Cliff's office. He knocked, and opened the door immediately. Cliff sat at his desk, surrounded by reports and scenarios of getting out of the Rex contract. “You wanted to talk to me?” He asked, as he took his reading glasses off. “Well, you have my undivided attention.”

J.R. unfolded the Newsweek and threw it down on the pile of papers. “I have a friend who works for the magazine...this is what they're going with for their next issue.”

Cliff looked at it. On the cover was a picture of Cliff and a headline that read The Clifford Group: is it the next Bre-Ex? “Are you sure this is what they're printing?” Cliff asked nervously.

“Barnes, when have you ever known me to waste my time?” He opened up his briefcase, and pulled out another Newsweek.

“This is option two,” he explained. He tossed him the second magazine, which had a picture of J.R. and a headline which read, Ewing Oil Bails out The Clifford Group: Is a truce in the works between the oil companies?

Cliff studied that one. “I'm almost afraid to ask what's on magazine number three...” Cliff said. “What's this supposed to mean? How are you going to bail me out, and why would you do that?”

J.R. sat down and smiled. “Cliff, you're as dumb as a stump, but I've always had a soft spot for you. If you think for a second that I'd like to see that snake Rex Wentworth take over your company you're dead wrong...I'd never let that happen to an old Pal like you...” He laughed. “And besides  there's something you have that I want.”

“What's that?”

“The Magruder Land. You seem to have forgotten about it, but I want to get that out of your hands...if you sell that land back to me, I'll divert all the crude you need to your contract with Weststar,” he explained. “Your crisis will be over, you'll only have to do some minor damage control with the press, and Rex Wentworth will look absolutely stupid.”

“But...I have to sell that land back to Southfork?” Cliff asked.

“Hell no, you're selling to me personally. The last thing I need is Mama giving more of Southfork away to the family bastards and turncoats...and realize, when I say sell it back to me, I actually mean give. I'm not in a charitable mood.”

“That's crazy,” Cliff exclaimed. “That land's worth millions and millions of dollars!”

“Oh, it's probably worth billions,” J.R. corrected. “It's the only area of land in the Braddock area that hasn't been drilled on, yet  besides Southfork, of course. There are generations of un-pumped oil under there...and the beauty of it is, you just don't have time to get it out of the ground. You see, your ego is so big that you had to call a press conference to announce your joining Project Guinea...and your brain is so small that you just assumed no one would mention your deal with Rex,” he explained.

He continued with his analysis. “Now, before you go blamin' me for setting up that embarrassment, lemme tell you: I didn't even know how serious your bone-headed deal was until yesterday. Well, Ole' J.R. is just nice enough to get you out of this deal, because even though that filthy son of yours met the first delivery, I know that there isn't a chance in hell that you'll meet any of the future deliveries...and that means, curtains for The Clifford Group. So, Mr. Barnes, even though you could probably suck that Magruder oil out of the ground with a straw, you just don't have enough time.”

J.R. turned to leave. “The choice is up to you, Cliff...do you prefer the first cover, or the second? Call my secretary when you make up your mind...I'll show myself out.” He flashed his shark grin to Cliff and made his quick exit.

On his way out, he passed Leo Wakefield, who was just entering the office. “Well hey there, Leo...how's this minimum wage job working out for you these days?” He asked.

Leo ignored him and continued on to Cliff's office. As the door was still open, he just entered without knocking. “Cliff?” He asked.

Cliff looked up at him. “Please tell me you're here to make this day better?” He said, the frustration in his voice very evident.

“I'm afraid not,” Leo said sadly. “I've come with my resignation.” He handed him a typed page. “I was the one who spoke to the press.”

Cliff's eyes widened. “You? Leo, you're the last one I suspected! We've worked together for years! How could you do that to me?”

“Believe me, I wasn't trying to hurt the company,” Leo said. “I've worked in this industry too long to jeopardize my own credibility...but what you did was wrong. It was damned wrong!” He shouted. “This was far beyond your usual level of mismanagement.”

“Now wait just a minute!” Cliff shouted back, “who are you to criticize my business skills?”

“I'm a friend; maybe the only one you've ever had. But I spend too much time being your babysitter and handing you reality checks...in fact, everyone does! First it was your sister, now that role seems to have been passed down to me. If you needed advice, you should've come to me! I'm this company's comptroller, and I could've told you that you were getting in to a bad deal!”

“A babysitter? Listen, Leo, what you are is a nag, you always second-guess me and constantly question my authority!”

“Well you've demonstrated to everyone here, lately, that you need someone to question your authority! You're too cocky, you need to invite us to more of your closed-door meetings! Jennifer, Kara, Brent...we're all capable individuals, or at least you thought so when you hired us...we're vice-presidents of this company, and we have a responsibility to the stockholders too, you know!”

“I know that!” Cliff exploded. “It was a bad deal, alright! It was a terrible deal and I should've consulted you, but I didn't, and I almost paid the ultimate price. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He calmed himself down and spoke in a much quieter voice. “There's a reason I hired you, you know, and it's not because I love your dynamite personality...I need a thorn in my side here, but someone who I can trust. I probably shouldn't even be sitting in this chair, I guess fate put me here, but...yeah...” he finished.

“Well, you do have my resignation, I'll clear my office out immediately,” Leo told him. “It's been a fun twenty years...” He left Cliff, closing the door behind him.

Cliff slumped his head in his hands and let his heart calm down. "I don't think it's supposed to beat this fast," he thought, recalling the two nerve-wracking meetings. Then, he tapped the intercom toggle and waited for his secretary's voice.

“I need you to send a couple of faxes...” he started. “I need one to go down to Leo Wakefield's office...”

“Certainly,” she answered, “what shall it read?”

“I do not accept your resignation,” he dictated. “Out of everything this company's got, you're the asset I'd miss the most.”

Cover Two.

C.B.

“You must be really proud of this place Ray, I know I am.”

Ray nodded. “I am. I feel like I've done somethin' worthwhile, taking a strip club and turnin' it back into a reputable place to eat.”

“I know Jock would be proud too.”

“Oh, I dunno about that. Jock might have enjoyed himself more at the strip club,” Ray said. They both enjoyed a laugh as the waitress approached the table.

“Well Ray! Hello partner, I barely recognized you, it's been so long!” It was Tina, one of the waitresses that he'd rehired from the original Cattleman's Club when he re-opened it.

“Howdy Tina. You remember my wife Donna, don't you?”

Tina smiled and nodded. “Hello Mayor Krebbs…I voted for you,” she said with a laugh. Donna shook her hand. “Thank you. It's nice to see you again.”

“So what do you folks want to eat tonight?”

Ray folded up his menu and handed it to her. “I don't even need to look at it. I'm cravin' a ribeye steak right about now. Go ahead and give me all the fixin's too. I'll take a beer to go with that.”

“Ray, you're so predictable,” Tina teased. “That's what you've ordered the last three times I took down your order!” She shook her head and jotted it down on her notepad.

“I'll have a salad and a piece of Texas toast…ranch dressing with that salad.”

“It'll be right out!” Tina waved at them and disappeared into the kitchen.

“Oh great…”

“What?” Donna asked. She looked in the direction that Ray was staring and then she saw what he was so thrilled about. J.R. had walked into the front door and was being greeted by the hostess. “Something tells me our perfect evening is about to go downhill.”

Ray watched as J.R. slipped the hostess some money and then he opened the door and waved out to the parking lot. A few seconds later, Sue Ellen, John Ross, and a blonde neither of them recognized joined him and the hostess led them to the table next to Ray and Donna's. As Sue Ellen took her seat, she realized they were sitting next to them. “Donna, Ray, what a pleasant surprise!”

“Hey Sue Ellen, John Ross…J.R.,” Ray said, greeting them.

“Oh, where are my manners,” J.R. said. “Donna, Ray, this is Tara Addington, John Ross' date for tonight. Donna, I'm sure you're familiar with her father, Senator Andrew Addington, of Texas of course.”

Donna exchanged glances with Ray. Senator Addington had never been one of her favorite politicians. She'd had several run-ins with him when she lived in D.C. Just a year ago he'd moved to Dallas from North Carolina, in an attempt to secure a Senate seat in Texas and by some miracle, he had done so. If there was anyone dirtier and more low-down than J.R. Ewing, it was Andrew Addington. Not to mention the fact that he was a Republican.

Donna nodded. “Of course. Hello Tara.”

“Mayor Krebbs.” Donna was pretty sure that Andrew had talked about her often, no doubt to his family and Tara apparently held the same opinion of her that Andrew did.

J.R. looked at Tara and gave her a wink. Yes, plan 'B' was definitely working its magic, even though plan 'A' hadn't been revealed yet. J.R. planned to wait until after dinner to let John Ross know he was now the owner of his very own gas company. J.R. chuckled to himself. “Nothing like a beautiful blonde and an established company of his own to pull a man out of a depression.”

Of course, John Ross dating the daughter of Senator Addington wouldn't be without its perks for J.R. too. J.R. always took pride in the fact that out of everything he did for anyone else, there was always something in it for him. Things just worked better that way.

Sue Ellen also took notice of how John Ross had perked up and seemed to be enjoying Tara's company. She had met Tara just a few days prior to going to Waco and they'd struck up a conversation. She'd been painting portraits in the mall and Sue Ellen had stopped to admire one of them. After talking for a while, she learned that Tara had recently moved to Dallas to pursue a career in art. Eventually, though Sue Ellen couldn't recall just how, the conversation had turned to John Ross. Just days later, here they were.

Bart, Ray's right-hand man, strolled up to Donna and Ray's table and propped himself on Ray's chair. “Just wanted to let you know that Morgan's gonna come out and sing a song or two here in a little bit. Then after the show, I'll introduce you to her.”

“Sounds great.”

Donna motioned for Bart to come over to her side of the table and she whispered into his ear. “I have something I'd like for her to sing…”

Back at J.R. and Sue Ellen's table, Sue Ellen took a sip of her drink and then cleared her throat. “J.R., I have something I want to say to you.”

J.R. was swirling ice cubes around in his glass of tea, but he stopped. “What is it?”

Sue Ellen hesitated, wondering if she should really dive headfirst into this. “I've decided that it would be in the best interest of our company if we sign onto Project Guinea.” J.R.'s speech about Jock, back on the jet, had touched her and had been a major influence on her decision. But also she wanted to prove it to herself, that they could succeed with this.

A grin slowly spread across J.R.'s face. “Well I'll be damned…” Before saying another word to Sue Ellen, J.R. stood up. “Did you hear that everybody? Ewing Oil's going to Africa!”

There were several drunken cheers from the back corner of the room and J.R. raised his glass to them. “Drink up everybody! Beer's on ol' J.R.!”

“Congratulations Dad,” John Ross added.

Donna sat still in her seat, thinking back to her confrontation with Mrs. Katzman from a few days before. Those images she'd shown her still burned strong in her mind and she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to erase them. “Ray…”

Ray put a reassuring hand on Donna's. “Let it roll off your back right now…”

“I can't sit here and let J.R. celebrate joining Project Guinea! They're going to destroy Nigeria and everyone that lives near the drilling site.” Donna turned around to their table. “How can the two of you even think about being a part of this…abomination?”

Sue Ellen and J.R. exchanged glances and it was Sue Ellen who spoke up. “Abomination? Are you talking about the conservation extremists who are trying to ruin this?”

“The only 'extremists' trying to ruin anything are the oil companies that have signed onto this project.” Donna found her face growing red and her head felt tense. How dare they try to look like the good guys in this.

J.R. rolled his eyes. “I shoulda known you'd be against something like this Donna. You, being the mayor of Dallas, should realize the importance of this to the Texas economy.”

“I do…but it's not worth the destruction of a third world country to boost our economy. There are plenty of other ways to do that.” Donna looked at Sue Ellen. “You of all people should understand that. Where is your sense of compassion?”

“Believe me I thought long and hard before I jumped into this venture, but I honestly don't believe it's as bad in Nigeria as they say it is. We've seen no proof.”

Donna shook her head and laughed. “That's because companies like yours are experts at covering it up.”

J.R. had had enough. He raised his voice and addressed the rest of the crowd. “Say, Mayor Krebbs here says that us oilmen drilling in Africa isn't good and she wants to try to stop it—all on account of a couple of oil spills and a few dead birds. Seems to me that she doesn't have the city's best interests at heart…”

The room went quiet, but then a few murmurs arose and a man stood up. “I was just hired on at West Star…I'll be on the crew that does the drilling in Nigeria. I've been out of work for a while now and if it wasn't for this job, hell…we'd be starved or on welfare by now. I don't see how anything that creates this many jobs could be bad. Now what are we more worried about…feeding our families or tearing up a little land thousands of miles away?”

A few cheers erupted throughout the restaurant, mostly from blue-collar workers who understood exactly what the man spoke of. J.R. grinned. He'd been wanting a chance to do a little damage to Donna for a long time now and this was perfect. If she kept this up, she'd be digging her own grave and her chances for re-election would be slim to none.

J.R. turned back to her. “I think you'll find that most Texans are with me on this. The oil business built this town and anytime you stand in the way of its progress, you're going to find yourself going against the grain. Now why don't you run back to your little office and cause some trouble for somebody else? Because you don't stand a chance of stopping us now.”

Ray stood up. “Alrighty J.R., I've had just about enough. Why don't you just back off?”

“Oh, come on now Ray, surely you're not gonna side with her on this. You wouldn't be where you are today without that Ewing money and we all know where that came from. Suppose somebody had tried to put a stop to our Daddy when he started Ewing Oil?”

Ray pondered J.R.'s statement. “I said I've had enough.”

“Woman's got you whipped?” J.R. laughed. “She runs off and runs the city while you run the house and take care of the kids? I hear you've gotten pretty good in the kitchen…”

Ray clenched his fists. People in his restaurant were now watching him. His face turned red. “Get the hell out of my restaurant before I throw you out myself,” he threatened in a subdued tone of voice.

“J.R.,” Sue Ellen broke in. “We should be going.”

Donna looked at her and nodded. “Yes you should…and neither one of you are welcome here anymore if you're going to act like this.”

Sue Ellen couldn't believe what she was hearing from a woman that she'd called her friend for over twenty years. “The only people acting like anything are you and J.R.! Not me!”

John Ross grabbed his mother's arm and Tara watched on, wondering what she'd gotten herself into by agreeing to this blind date. “Mom…please, let's just get out of here, okay?”

“I don't appreciate being treated like someone who is trying to cut down the rainforest and drive animals into extinction,” Sue Ellen said coldly. There was a subtle fiery undertone beneath the coldness. “All I'm doing is going into a business venture that I feel would be beneficial to Ewing Oil. Donna, maybe if you'd spend as much time minding your own business as you do everyone else's, then you could do something beneficial for yourself too.”

“This is her business,” Ray snapped.

“Like hell,” J.R. said.

Ray stood up and met J.R. face to face before grabbing him by his collar. “I said get the hell out of here.”

“Ray, you sonofabitch, let me go. You're choking me!” J.R. coughed. He tried to pry Ray's hands away from his collar, but it was to no avail. J.R. raised his voice again so the entire restaurant could hear. “Hell Ray, I almost died from salmonella eating here one time and now you're tryin' to kill me again?”

A man nearby looked down at the chicken on his plate and then back at Ray and J.R.

“You bastard…” Ray pulled back his fist and hit J.R. square in the face with it. After one hit, John Ross stood up and rocked Ray with a punch to the stomach. Ray gasped for breath and let go of J.R., who fell to the ground. John Ross and Sue Ellen both kneeled over to check on him and Donna left her seat and ran over to make sure Ray was okay.

Ray tore past Donna and made another lunge for J.R. and they both rolled onto the floor and threw punches with John Ross trying to separate them. Suddenly, the entire room went dim and music boomed over the speaker system. An auburn-haired woman in her late 40s stepped out onto the stage and began to sing…

“I want to be a cowboy's sweetheart, I want to learn to rope and ride…”

Ray stopped with his fist in mid-air. The voice…it was so familiar. J.R. too recognized it and he sat up and looked toward the stage. Both his eyes and Ray's fell upon the woman singing.

“I want to ride o'er the plains and desert, out west of the Great Divide…”

“Of all people,” J.R. muttered.

“I want to hear the coyotes howlin', While the sun sets in the west…”

“Garnett McGee…” Ray whispered.

“I want to be a cowboy's sweetheart, the life I love the best.”

CREDITS ROLL

This episode was written by Matt Becker, Travis Bowden, and Justin Stiles.