Part 2

For all of Cody's enjoyment of needling Frank at any opportunity, he felt sorry for the guy.  Friends were a rare commodity in this business.  Cody wanted to reach out to Donovan somehow, now that he had opened the door a chink, but didn't quite know what to say.  Only quips came to mind. 

"Hey, boss!  Think of it this way: you haven't lost a friend, but gained a source on the inside."

It was bad; he knew it, but it got his boss out of his funk.  Donovan's head came up and Cody bore the brunt of Frank's specialty – a look that could not only kill, but flay alive.  The big guy was on his feet and advancing, his long, flowing stride making no sound on the floorboards.  Cody felt at a disadvantage being smaller and still sitting, but he was riveted to the spot.  He was in for it now.  He swung his chair around and pulled his keyboard forward, his fingers dancing on the keys as he pulled up a monitoring project he'd been working on.

"Cody."

His fingers froze.  First the dagger eyes, then the steel blade voice. 

"Yeah, boss?" He hunched his shoulders and wouldn't look around.  He generally didn't when the crap was about to hit the fan.

"Let's take this outside."

"Er, it's kinda chilly outside, boss."

"Try stripping and going for a joy-ride," said Alex, amused at his discomfort.  She was no help.  She wasn't even taking Donovan seriously.  But then she didn't have him behind her back; his threat almost a tangible thing.

"Actually, it's quite a balmy night," added Monica, spoiling his argument.

"Outside."  One word from the big guy.  That's all it usually took.

Cody snapped his teeth together.  "Look," he said, finally swinging around, holding out a hand to ward off the inevitable.  "We can talk about this, can't we?  I didn't mean it.  I was just, you know, filling in the silence.  It's what I do.  Fill the pregnant pauses, lighten the moment, relieve the boredom..."

"Looks like we've got communication issues again."  He was throwing Cody's words back into his face. 

Cody scoped the others.  "Guys? I can use some help here."

Jake and Alex merely smiled, Monica shrugged and Cody didn't appreciate the amusement in her eye. 

"Guys!"  Jake and Alex's attitude he could understand.  They probably thought it was time someone else took the heat, but Monica mostly sat on the sidelines with him; she should come to his rescue.  "Monica?!"

"Man issues," she said, and resumed keying into her laptop.

Donovan walked to the Nest's exit doors and waited. 

Cody knew better than to keep Frank waiting long.  Reluctantly hauling himself out of the chair, Cody shot a last-ditch look at his so-called friends and dragged his feet toward Donovan, who stepped aside to let him pass.

"We are not to be disturbed."

Cody heard Frank warn the others inside and gulped.

***

The door shut on the pair and Alex's smile broadened into a grin.  Poor Cody.  She didn't really fear for him.  Above all else, Frank was fair.  Whatever he had planned for the younger man would be for his own, and the team's, good. 

She moved off to the small kitchenette and emptied her coffee dregs that had gone cold and, feeling the tension in her muscles, rolled her shoulders to loosen them.  That had been one hell of a story.  She'd guessed Frank had seen a lot in his career, but had no idea what form those experiences had taken.  None of them had, and although it had to be hard for him, she was glad he had opened up, given them something of himself.

"Thanks, Alex," grinned Jake, following her to the sink and handing her his cup to wash.

"Hey!  Just because you got to see me nekkid, doesn't mean I've turned into your kitchen hand," she said, batting his cup away.

"And you have nothing to be ashamed of," he charmed. 

"You don't have a bad bod, either," smiled Alex, giving in.  Jake would do almost anything to get out of everything domestic.  "When do you work out?  I haven't seen you in the gym much."

"Everyday," he boasted.  "I've got my own weights."

So did Frank, Alex thought.  His body wouldn't be difficult to look at either.  A smile curved her lips at the thought.

"That was some story, eh?" said Jake.

"Yeah," she nodded.  "I figure it's only the tip of the iceberg though.  Reckon he'll give us some more insights in the future?"

"Hard to tell.  That's up to you, anyway," he said as he walked off. 

"What do you mean?"

He was on his way to the front door.  "I'm convinced it was your chipping in that convinced him.  You and Frank got something going, eh?"

"Don't be ridiculous!  Where're you going, anyway?"

He had his hand on the doorknob but didn't turn it.  "Maybe not," he said and moved across to the front windows instead.

"Maybe not what?" asked Monica, looking up from her laptop.

"Frank said not to disturb.  I ain't disturbing, but I still wanna know what's going on."  He stared out the windows at the front lot where they parked their cars.  "Can't see a damned thing; it's too dark.  Wasn't it supposed to be a full moon round about now?"

"There's cloud cover," said Monica, going back to her computer.

Jake turned back to Alex.  "Whadya think they're doing out there?"

"Whatever it is," said Alex, heading back toward Monica, "Cody deserves it.  He's always pushing Frank's buttons.  It's about time he got his come-uppance."

Alex peered over Monica's shoulder at the laptop.  Spotting the official Agency logo on the screen, her gaze sharpened.  "What's this?" 

"I've pulled up every CIA, FBI, ATF file on Agents who served in Columbia," said Monica, "and not found Frank's name on any of them."

"Maybe he made it up,"  said Jake, walking back to them.

Monica shook her head.  "No way.  Not him.  It's just not something he would do."

"Even for the sake of shock value?  It sure worked; gave me the chills."

"I doubt it," said Alex, watching the names on the screen roll upward.  "A man like that doesn't have to prove a thing.  How about an alias?"

"Very possible," agreed Monica, looking up at her.  "If that's the case, I'm wasting my time." 

"What's it say about female guerrillas in the FARC?  Are there as many as he said?"

Monica keyed in a search and sat back as the data flashed onto the screen.  "Yep. 'Thirty to forty percent of the combat force',"  she read.  "When did Frank say he was there?"

"He didn't,"  said Jake.  "But it would have to be around the..."  He stopped and squinted his face in concentration.  "... mid 1990's?"

Monica scanned the data again.  "'Mid-1997, one-in-five FARC guerrillas were women'," she read.  "That's twenty percent, like he said."

"So, that's about when he was there," said Alex, straightening.  "It's still a bit vague to find confirmation, and if he used an alias, it would be impossible to verify.  I wouldn't bother; I believe him."

She shuddered.  It was because of the content that she did believe him.  He wouldn't have made something like that up, even to shock them.  It has been too personal. 

"Did you notice the way he felt uncomfortable in the chair when he talked about the beatings?" Monica asked.

"Sure did," nodded Alex.  "Like the chair was hurting his back.  I wonder if he's still got the scars."

"There's one way of finding out," said Jake, throwing himself into the chair beside Monica and grinning at both of them.  "Ask him to take his shirt off." 

Alex felt like smacking him.  "As if," she said.  "I can just see it now.  I shimmy up to him and say, 'Hey, Frank, take off your shirt, I wanna see your back.' And he's going to say, 'Sure, Alex, anything you say.'  Then he's going to rip off his shirt and let us look our fill."

"In our dreams," said Monica and Alex playfully cuffed her on the shoulder.

Jake was shaking his head.  "No!  You gotta work around it.  Surely a guy doesn't have to tell a woman how to manipulate men.  I thought you were born to it."  He put on a look of mock gravity.  "But if I come up with an idea, I'll let you know."

Alex moved around the table and took the seat beside him, folding her hands on the table's surface.  "Thanks a lot."  She rested her chin on her hands, thinking back to what Frank had said.  "You, know I thought maybe one of the women would have softened toward him.  I don't like to think one of my sex could do that to a person, specially on a long-term basis."

Monica nodded.  "I know, but they believe in their cause; their struggle for what they conceive as freedom.  It's also a matter of survival to them."

"Yeah," said Jake.  "Like Frank said, 'kill or be killed'.  Hey, whadya think happened that his executioner let her guard down?"

Alex's head came up sharply.

"You're kidding me?" said Monica.

Alex suspected Cody also had missed the significance of Frank's inability to tell that part impersonally, but she didn't realise it had gone over Jake's head as well.  Typical men.

Jake was looking at both of them, his smile fading into confusion.  "What'd I say?"

"Didn't you work it out?" asked Monica.

"Work out what?"

Alex smiled gently, humoring him.  "She took advantage of him.  Wanted one for the road.  Get it?"

Jake still looked confused; then the penny dropped.  He swallowed hard.  "Can women do that?"

"Want to find out?" asked Monica, frowning.

"Er, no thanks.  I'll take your word for it."  He dropped his eyes.

"It couldn't have been easy for him.  That, and to kill her, I mean," said Alex, putting her chin back onto her hands.  She had taken several lives already but it had always been in a gun fight or when her life, or one of the team's, had been on the line.  It had been no different for Frank then.

"Who's kiddin who now?" said Jake.  "The man's got no feelings.  He'd take a life as sure as look at you and forget it five minutes later."

Monica shook her head.  "I don't think so.  I think every life he wastes, diminishes him.  Makes him feel he failed that he couldn’t prevent it somehow; find a better solution.  And when something goes wrong – it's the same thing."  She closed down the laptop.  "You should have seen how antsy he was when you and Jake lost your tracking devices.  He was so unfocussed he didn't even shut down Cody when our boy genius was at his most inappropriate and annoying.  I could have smacked Cody for him, but Donovan..." She shook her head.  "... didn't even notice."

Alex rocked her chin on her hand.  "I think you're right.  He would blame himself for a defection as well."  She straightened in her seat, stretching.  "Teddy C being the prime example.  Teddy was his friend.  A good friend should have known; seen the signs and helped him get past it.  Frank has to be flaying himself right now."

"Well, maybe Cody is the one getting flayed right now," pointed out Jake.  "They've been out there for a while now and I haven't heard a thing.  I could bear to find out what's going on."

Monica shrugged.  "Someone could go out there.  On the pretext that there's a phone call."

"And they conveniently hang up when Donovan comes in?"  Jake scoffed.

"If you've got a better idea..."

"Come on," said Alex, standing and pushing her chair back.  "We go out en masse with no excuse, except to say, 'what's holding you guys up?'  What's he going to do?  Take us all on?"

"You first," said Jake, getting to his feet and sweeping a hand out in front of her.

Alex gave him a scathing look.  "Coward!"  She glanced at Monica.  "Coming?"

"Okay, I'm game.  I know better to disturb him if he says not to, but you're right; he can't take us all down."

Alex was heading toward the front door, but turned with a smile.  "Not at once anyway." 

"Whadya think we're gonna find?" asked Jake, his face lit with anticipation. 

"A bloody fist-fight, I reckon," said Monica.  "Not that Donovan's going to have much competition.  It's probably all over by now."

"I think he'll take it easy on Cody," said Alex.  "Either that, or Cody's just cowering against a car after having the riot act read to him."  She wouldn't be surprised.  Frank was more of a big brother figure to Cody then the younger man realised. 

She spear-headed the trio to the door and turned the knob, not pausing in case she too chickened out. 

Once outside, she stopped so suddenly that Jake barrelled into her, propelling her forward a few steps.  Beyond their cars was a quadrangle of paving that they used for shooting hoops during their down-time.  It was rough and small, but it still provided opportunity for exercise and venting frustration or tension.  The quadrangle had no exterior lighting, but the cloud cover had dispersed and the full moon bathed the area in more than adequate light, spotlighting the two men hunched there.

Cody was jumping about on the spot in front of Frank while the taller man was dribbling a basketball from side to side, dodging Cody's feints patiently and with skill.

"Aw, come on, Frank!  Gimme the ball!  Gimme the ball!" complained Cody.

Alex had not expected this.

"What are you doing?!" gasped Monica, her voice several decibels higher than Alex had ever heard her.

The men stopped in surprise and straightened. 

Alex wondered if the 'wish-fairies' had been listening to their earlier conversation, as both men were stripped of their shirts, down to white cotton vests.  The game must have been intense because their skin glistened with sweat where the moonlight touched. 

And Alex saw her opportunity. 

Some perverse part of her wanted to see how badly Frank had suffered at the hands of the Colombians and all she had to do was angle behind Frank and check out his back.  She caught Monica's attention and the other woman lifted her brows and then nodded.  Non-verbal communication was a wonderful thing.

Monica folded her arms, looked at the two sweating men and tapped a foot.  "Well?  Are you going to explain yourselves?  We thought the worst in there.  That at the very least we were going to have to carry Cody back inside on a stretcher and here you are..."  She swept out a hand.  "... playing!"

Alex casually left the group on the pretext of picking up a discarded shirt from an empty forty gallon drum and folding it.  Both men had been wearing dark shirts, but from this one's scent, she guessed it was Frank's.

"Hey, Monica,"  whined Cody, "there's no law against shooting some hoops with a buddy."

Alex smirked.  Since when had Cody got Frank on 'buddy' status?  Obviously Frank had done a good job of turning a tense moment into a morale-building one.  Another trick of his trade, she figured.

"But there's hardly any light!"  Monica kept up the diversion.  "How can you see the ball?"

Alex moved around a parked car and headed back to the guys from the rear.

"Frank wants me to hone my night vision,"  explained Cody.  "As if I don't sit in the dark enough as it is watching over Alex and Jake on live-feed.  But you know, you'd be surprised at how easy it is to spot a ball in moonlight.  It's getting the ball that's the tough part."  He made to bat the ball out of Frank's hands, but Donovan swung it out of his reach.

Alex was right behind Frank now, and she caught Cody's look of pique at the taller man.  She moved in closer but the cotton vest, though exposing Frank's shoulders and muscular arms, still covered most of his back.  Damn!  Her hands itched to grab the bottom of the vest and inch it upward.  She wondered what he would do if she did.

"That doesn't explain why... this..."  Monica thrust out a hand at them, "... now, does it?"

Frank held up the basketball in both hands.  "Cody wanted a challenge; he wanted to be Magic Johnson.  Well, consider me his Larry Bird."

He moved slightly and Alex gasped as she realised Frank was looking behind, right at her.  Her eyes flew to his in alarm.  Even in the moonlight, she saw what looked like disappointment on his face.  He knew what she was up to.

"They're there, Alex.  You don't have to look."

Finis.