Authors: Nancy Ann Healy
Alex took a deep breath and squinted at the boy. She too had fought to reconcile the need to leave. Images of Christopher O’Brien at her door had awakened her in the middle of the night. But, they could not allow Carl Fisher to control their lives forever. She understood that too. Still, she had thought to make some arrangements, if only to put her own mind at ease. “Would you feel better knowing that Grandma will be here this afternoon?” Alex asked. Dylan nodded and Alex felt Cassidy’s eyes on her. “Good.” She watched Cassidy kiss Dylan on the cheek as the bus pulled up.
“Promise?” he asked his mother.
Cassidy smiled. “Promise.” She waved and turned to witness the concern in Alex’s eyes as the agent gave Dylan a thumbs up. “Grandma?” Cassidy asked.
Alex shrugged. “Just humor me.”
“Worried about me?”
Alex put her arm around the teacher’s waist as they made their way back toward the house. “I’ll just feel better knowing Rose is here.”
Cassidy sighed as they finally reached their door. “You really can’t tell me?” The agent shook her head. “Promise me you will be careful.” Cassidy knew Alex as well as anyone ever had. There was little doubt in her mind that wherever her lover was headed; there were risks.
“Cass, I will be back.”
Cassidy nodded as the agent grabbed the bag behind the door. “I know this is just something,” the teacher’s words were cut off by a gentle kiss. She placed her hands on the agent’s face and looked into Alex’s steel blue eyes. “I’ll never get used to this.”
“Neither will I,” Alex confessed.
“I love you, Alex.”
“Mm….tacos.”
“What?” Cassidy asked.
“If you love me, you’ll make tacos when I get back.”
“Is that right?” Cassidy raised her eyebrow.
“Yeah.”
Cassidy was ready to quip back at the agent when she felt a pit in her stomach rise into her throat. “Just come home. You can have tacos every night if you want.”
Alex smiled and kissed the smaller woman again. “I’ll call you as soon as I can. I love you, Cassidy. You know that?”
“I do.”
The agent let her lips linger on Cassidy’s forehead. She made her way to the car, threw her bag in the trunk and looked over at her lover. “You might want to practice your shots. I moved the pool table but, uh…I think it might be slightly off center still. Might need to be adjusted when I get back.”
Cassidy bit her lip to stifle a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Alex winked and stepped into the car. She backed out and stopped one last time to glimpse the woman she loved. “Just come home, Alex,” Cassidy whispered to herself. “Please.”
Brian Fallon jimmied the lock pick in the door and looked cautiously to each side. “Time to find out what you are up to Tate.” He quietly closed the office door and made his way behind the desk. With the assistant FBI director away and Claire Brackett markedly absent from the office, this was his opportunity to dig a little deeper into the pair’s meeting. He hoped that the assistant director might just be bold enough to leave something in his office. After all, he was at the top of the heap in the bureau. Joshua Tate had little reason to fear an internal investigation. Fallon was certain that no one suspected he was working for the NSA. He was fully aware that his unassuming presence and his amiable nature was often mistaken as weakness, or even a lack of intellect. That had proven to be advantageous more than once. He silently wondered if anyone realized what truly
lay underneath the surface. “And what do we have here?” The agent lifted a paper and shook his head as his eyes scanned it. He retrieved his cell phone and promptly snapped several pictures. “Who is playing who here, Claire?” he smiled. “Oh, Alex, wait until you get this.”
“Claire Brackett is up to something.”
“You think she’d cross her father?”
Jon Krause laughed. “She’d sell her firstborn if she thought it’d serve her.”
Agent Ian Mitchell sat across from the CIA agent, his thick British accent making him sound ever more distinguished than he knew to be true. “Do you plan on apprising the admiral?”
“No.”
“Any idea what she is up to then, Jon?” Mitchell asked.
“The admiral is setting up O’Brien.”
“To remove him?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Krause responded. “It isn’t his intention to remove him physically, but to compromise him.”
“And Claire?”
Krause shrugged. “She won’t allow that.”
“Sleeping with the enemy now?” Mitchell asked. Jon Krause nodded. “So then; what?” Krause smiled and the MI6 agent nodded his understanding with satisfaction. “You think she will remove the contact?” he asked. “Ah…You want me make certain the role is filled.”
“You always were quick, Ian.”
“Who is the contact?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Krause answered.
Ian Mitchell understood. “This congressman of yours, he and the Brackett girl; they were the downfall; weren’t they? His, I mean.”
“They were the catalyst, yes.”
“Why not just kill him?” Mitchell asked. Krause sighed. “I see. More painful this way. I understand, Jon. If it had been Elliot they killed….I…”
“I know,” Krause answered. “I made a promise, Ian. A long time ago. We all did.”
“Yes, we did. When?”
“Thursday. Corsica.”
“I’ll make the arrangements,” Mitchell answered. Krause gave a slight nod of appreciation and moved to take his leave when he felt his friend’s hand stop him. “Jon, if what you suspect is true. You know what that means.” Ian Mitchell was part of the same unique brotherhood as Jon Krause. He was a ghost made of flesh; a man who had few verifiable connections and yet had traveled to nearly every inch of the globe. It was an elite group. They were men who spoke many languages, endeared world leaders and then assassinated them. They traded in arms and they laundered money. They could buy elections and sell entire governments. They were the ghosts engineered by men who believed themselves gods. These
ghosts
possessed rare skills and enviable talents; abilities very few could lay claim to. The reality was that gods sometimes underestimated their minions. A ghost is a dangerous adversary, even for a god.
“Ian?” Krause began. “There will be company.”
“You sound certain.”
“I am.”
Mitchell nodded. “I’ll be certain they see him.” Krause smiled. “Jon, be careful. It is
in
the family now.” Krause understood. This had been his
family
all his life. He felt a crawling sensation creep through his body. He’d accepted what he’d been given with open arms. He wondered now why his eyes had not followed that same path.
lex sighed and turned her back from side to side. She hated flying and was relieved to be able to stretch the length of her tall form. The motel room seemed cold compared to home. The sooner she completed this task, the better. In spite of the teasing she endured about her pension for spy movies and
The X-Files
, Alex did not truly enjoy the undercover aspect of her profession. Most people in the intelligence community regarded the NSA as a place lined by endless desks and computer screens; a high tech, low risk brand of intelligence. She laughed as she retrieved her uniform and shook her head. The NSA engaged in as much espionage as any intelligence agency. Their focus, and this was always troubling to her, was listening in on private conversations and communications. Unfortunately, Alex had learned that there was often reason to do so. There were people with agendas, all kinds of agendas. Some were zealots, others were entrepreneurs; both posed risks to the safety and welfare of the country and its citizens.
Slowly, she unzipped the long garment bag that held her Army uniform. Alex was no longer an inconspicuous agent. The press coverage of Cassidy’s abduction and the continued focus on her presence at President John Merrow’s funeral meant that someone would almost certainly recognize her. There would be no aliases. She needed her military credentials to be reinstated and to appear authentic. Jane Merrow knew the one person who could do that and would do so without hesitation.
Matthew Waters was that person. Waters had followed his father’s footsteps in many ways, attending the Air Force Academy, flying planes and serving his country with distinction. There was one thing he loved above all else and that was his sister. Alex learned that firsthand when she and John Merrow were at Walter Reed recovering. Jane Merrow’s brother was a major then. He had climbed the ladder quickly and now held the rank of Brigadier General. Alex was well aware that Jane Merrow was Matthew Water’s light. The pair often reminded Alex of her and Nick. She was certain that he would want answers about the president’s assassination and that Jane’s request would be granted without question. Alex held up her uniform and closed her eyes for a moment. Today, she would again be Captain Alexis Toles. It was a role she missed at times. Today, she wondered where it might lead her.