| If . . . In The End By Eirian |
| ALLEYWAY BEHIND CLUB MYSTIQUE: 2.30am Tuesday (Week 4) Alex sighed. It was supposed to make you feel better going out – so why the hell did she still feel like shit? And why was she purposefully walking a dark alley at night in a neighbourhood that she knew was dangerous? Death wish she decided. Tempting fate… Almost as she thought the words a hand came around her waist and another across her mouth as she was lifted from the ground and pulled back into the shadow of a dumpster. “Trying to get yourself killed, Alex?” The voice whispered dangerously in her ear. She stiffened and went cold from head to foot. Even if she wasn’t working she’d heard the word on the street about Kale. She suddenly found herself wishing she hadn’t had to surrender her weapon. She bit down on the hand. “Let go of me you bastard!” she tried reaching back behind her with her finger, more to the point, fingernails leading. “Alex, ouch!” a more familiar voice yelped, and her feet came to rest on the ground, the arms around her moving to steady her. But it could be it… She spun round, the hands sliding around her middle and peered into the eyes of the man in front of her. “Jake?” she whispered, and then when the face cracked into the well known grin, despite the white blonde hair, that was spiked up, she knew it could be no other. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. “My god, Jake…” “Alex,” he laughed, but hugged her just as fiercely. “I’m okay… I’m real…” “But we… we buried you we…” “I know,” he interrupted and then added, “Listen, you guys are in trouble.” “What do you mean?” she asked, “I’m still on leave, pending the OPR review I…” “You’re up for review? What did you do?” “Told Bloom exactly what he could do with his Special Ops teams,” she smiled, remembering the look that had come over Blooms face when she’s told him what Keller had wanted to a hundred times, and Donovan probably had too. The smile faded as she said, “But Donovan…?” “Sorry Alex. That one’s for real.” She looked at the ground and sighed. “So what’s going on?” she asked at last. “My cover as Kale has just started paying off,” he said, “But one of the guys… that works for Reeves-Masterton… that was there at the meeting? I think she might be your replacement on the team.” “What?” she looked at him, eyes wide in shock. “I only saw her once and she was UC then, but I’m pretty sure it was the same woman. You gotta tell Monica,” he said. “How?” she asked, pacing away, until he pulled her back into the shadows. “I’m off the team, remember?” “Just try,” he said “I’ll do what I can,” she answered. “Jake…?” “Hmm?” “Just promise me you’ll be careful.” “I promise.” He squeezed her arm. She closed her eyes and when she opened them, she was alone in the alley. ** UC OPS VAN: 8.39pm Friday “What the hell are they doing?” Teague snapped as he watched his UC agents on the monitor. “Well,” Cody cleared his throat, “Sir… I think they’re doing what you told them to do.” “Don’t get smart with me, Agent,” the team leader shot back and snatched the headset off Cody’s head. “Hart… West… back off, you’re too close.” Cody shook his head, and plugged in another headset for himself. This would never have happened if Donovan were here. He sighed and as he watched the nightmare of an operation going down in front of his eyes he thought back to the note he had proven to Monica to be a forgery. Frank, I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I walked too close to your world and was burned. I don’t know how you live it every day. I can’t. I haven’t stopped loving you – I don’t think I ever could do that. But it’s not good for either of us for me to stay. I’m so sorry. I hope you’ll find some way to forgive. Saran Oh it was a good forgery… whoever had written the note had been careful, the loops were right, everything was the right size, dimension, and everything except one small detail that they either hadn’t known or thought wouldn’t matter. Saran was left handed – and they had been right. But why? He could understand getting scared and running, but he’d got her out, taken her home without a scratch according to the medical report filed, pending… pending what? The file had said that she had just wanted Frank to take her home and that no one had argued too much. “What the...!” he was brought from his reverie by the angry voice of the team leader who threw the headset back onto the desk. “Hey!” Cody snapped. “The equipment!” “Stay here!” Teague ordered, as drawing his gun he moved to the door of the van. Monica moved to take his place behind Cody. “Never mind, Co… Oh shit!” she hissed. “Is that who I think it is?” ”She’s got a clear shot,” Cody squeaked in panic, then saw as the spiky, blonde haired man on the business end of her gun dive to the side in the split second before she took the shot. “She had a clear shot. He was dead. Why didn’t she take it?” They made him stew all day. I tried not to let it show that I knew he was beginning to lose his cool, but from the number of time I saw that hand pass over his beard, I knew. We heard every word of the orders he gave, so they were always one step ahead of him. I wished I had a way to let him know they were watching him just as he was doing his best to watch them. Just as it started to get dark, Mr Blondie walked to the phone line and picked it up. Instantly we could hear the ringing tone as the phone rang down in the ops van. Frank raised his hand and everyone in the van fell silent, then he picked up the phone. “Donovan,” he said. “Mr Donovan, you make a convincing argument,” the man beside me purred into the telephone. “How are my people?” Frank asked, ignoring the attempt to flatter him. He knew it was just part of the game of cat and mouse currently being played. “Hungry,” Blondie quipped. “Say the word and I will take them home,” he answered. “Nice try, Fed.” “What then? You called for a chat. There’s only one thing I want to hear from you, McGuirk. When you’re ready to give it to me, call back.” Frank hung up and turned to one of the officers in the van. “Three search lights, trained on the fourth floor of the block, ready to go on my signal.” “What do you say?” Blondie, or McGuirk as Frank had called him, asked me. “Should I give him what he wants? I mean, you’d know all about that.” He reached around me, and ran his fingers over my stomach. I froze, bile starting to climb my throat. He couldn’t know. How could he know? I only just knew for sure. “Please don’t,” I whispered as his fingers settled over the top of my womb. “He doesn’t know.” “And that’s the way it’s going to stay,” The woman spoke, for only the second time in the whole of the evening. Her voice was cold – harsh. She frightened me more than any of the others. “I know he’s confided in you all about the investigation of his brothers death and the arms cases, so let me tell you how this is going to work if Frank is sensible enough to get you out of this alive…” I knew the moment she started talking that I wasn’t going to like what she had to say… but I also knew I wouldn’t have any choice. By the time she had finished speaking I was crying so hard I almost couldn’t draw breath. “And don’t think to do anything stupid. You already know that we’ve been watching you and you know what we can, and WILL do.” She took me from McGuirk’s arms and made me sit in the chair in front of the monitors. “But we’ll give you tonight to say goodbye, provided of course we don’t have to kill you to get our point across.” I wiped my eyes, and in that moment he looked up as if he knew I was watching him. He looked tired, tense and worried. I saw the effort in him as he fought to let the telephone ring when McGuirk picked up the phone again. Anyone else would have missed it… but I KNEW him. I’d soothed away those knots from his shoulders, kissed away the frown from his face and smoothed my fingers over bitten lips. “Donovan,” he answered. “All right Donovan, this is how it’s going to go,” he said quietly. On the monitor, Frank held up his hand for silence, as if he were listening for something. “You get half the hostages now then you come up here for a little tête-à-tête.” “You pull your shooters out of the fourth floor window and I’ll see what I can do,” he answered. “There will be no casualties on this one.” “And if I don’t, Mr Crack-shot Negotiator, what will you do? You going to pass up the chance to free a bunch of “your people” as you’d say?” McGuirk teased. “You’ll let those people go McGuirk and you’ll do as I say,” Frank’s voice was low and dangerous, “Because I have something you want.” There was a tense silence for a while before McGuirk agreed with a single word. I saw Frank signal to the young officer that he’d sent to fetch his vest and began to don the protective clothing. “I want EMTs behind the safe line and a retrieval team in riot gear now!” he snapped and people began all but falling over themselves to comply. He turned to the tech-op and pointing to the headset he wore demanded, “Make this mobile!” There was a flurry of movement from the people down with Frank, before someone told him that the retrieval team was ready and he moved toward the doorway of the ops van, and out of view of the camera. I could still hear him as he briefed the team. “These people are going to be tired… afraid… we’re going to want to get them out of there fast. The moment those doors open we need to be ready with those searchlights. Two second bursts… He’s said he’ll pull his shooters back, but he’s lying and the last thing we need is gunfire to make the hostages coming out panic – the light should keep them off balance for long enough to get them out. Get them shielded as quickly as you can. You…” there was a heartbeat’s pause, “…do up that vest. This is not a training exercise. Now go. Team two, this Donovan…” “Receiving,” the leader of the team of sharp shooters in the building opposite our called back. “If you get a clear shot – take it.” RESIDENCE MONICA DAVIS – BEDROOM: 11pm Friday This time they both paced the floor, in opposite directions trying to make sense of what they had seen. Agent Hart had clearly had a shot on Jake, but had hesitated long enough for him to get out. What was going on? Did she know? Had she somehow recognised Jake despite the drastic change in appearance? Monica turned to face him as he reached the other side of the bedroom. “You know there are things that are starting to fall into place here that I don’t like?” she said. “You get anywhere with the files?” He shook his head but said, “Well yeah, but there’s nothing in there that sets off any warning bells, except perhaps the fact that all three are so squeaky clean it’s enough to make you want to revisit dinner, if you know what I mean.” “Thank you,” she said, clearly not meaning it at all, “for that image.” “Any time,” he said dryly. “You know I’ve been thinking…” “Alex called, did I tell you?” Monica interrupted, sitting down on the side of the bed. “No,” he said. “What did she say? How is she?” “She wanted to come over,” she answered. “You think she’s forgiven you or wants to kick your ass?” “She could try.” She looked up at him. “I didn’t get time to meet up with her, we got that case and…” He shrugged, “Well we got a couple of days.” “Yeah,” she answered. “So what have you been thinking?” ”That we’re missing something…” “Tell me something I don’t know,” she said sarcastically. “I mean,” he mused aloud. “Why?” “Why what?” she asked. “Why leave… it doesn’t make sense.” “So maybe, the note was fake… maybe they took her again.” He sat down on the other side of the bed as the two of them started bouncing ideas back and forth, thrashing out the missing pieces. “No,” he disagreed. “If she was taken, for whatever reason, she wouldn’t have left it so long to come back…” “Maybe she moved on,” Monica argued. “No,” he said again then added sourly. “Women do not… move on… from men like Donovan. Believe me, I know.” “Cody…” She started to reach out toward his pouting face, but he sat back quickly and didn’t allow her to finish whatever pep talk she was going to give him about smart being sexy or some such other rot. “And then there’s this…” he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “After the kidnapping, Saran was released… her file says, without a scratch, that she went home with Donovan, supposedly to live happily ever after.” “Well we know that didn’t happen.” Monica answered, and looked down at the piece of paper and the HMO code written on it. “What’s this?” “I did some digging. The FBI report on that whole incident…” “Let me guess… classified.” “Oooh,” he said sarcastically, “You’re good. But…” He held up a finger in triumph. “The bureau had to pay for each one of those hostages to be checked over. I ran the codes looking for anything unusual… looking for anything that would explain why the file said that she was being release pending… according to the HMO’s own files. Saran was released AMA pending… whatever that is.” He pointed at the piece of paper. “So what are you thinking?” “I’m thinking I need to go visit a sick relative.” My eyes were closed. I daren’t open them because I didn’t know what I would do if I saw him face to face. The wrist across the front of my neck, with the hand pressed across my cheek hurt, was choking me, and the cold metal pressed against the back of my ear left me feeling more nauseous as the terror took a hold. My feet were barely touching the ground as they took me with them out into the hallway, toward the stairwell. “Put them down!” The pressure increased on the back of my head and letting out a frightened whimper my eyes flew open to find myself staring straight into the hardened eyes of the man I loved. He had a gun in his hands, pointing in my direction – well not at me, but at McGuirk who held me – there were three others, SWAT from the look of them, in the stairwell behind him. “We both know that’s not going to happen,” he answered. His eyes flicked to the side; to the woman whose gun was also pointing in my direction, though she was looking at him. “Hello Veronica. It’s been a while. Still breaking up homes?” “You’re going to hold that against me for the rest of my life, aren’t you Frank?” she answered. “But I didn’t do anything that Max didn’t want.” “I didn’t come up here to talk about Max,” he said softly and I knew from the slight tightening at the side of his eyes that she’d touched a nerve. Otherwise, he showed nothing but quiet confident calm. “You think?” the woman, Veronica asked. “You okay, Saran?” he ignored her and spoke to me softly. It brought tears to my eyes. “It’s okay, don’t… I’m going to get you out of here.” “Okay,” I whispered fearfully. “What about the others?” he asked, still talking to me. “Everyone else okay?” “The hostages are fine… for now.” Veronica answered crossly. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say until I know my people are safe,” he said lightly. “Saran?” “Frightened.” I told him. We were. We were all of us terrified, them not knowing why this was happening, and me, even knowing, just as afraid – perhaps even more so. “I’m going to take you home,” he promised. “You have a file, Mr Donovan,” Veronica snapped. “Everything surrounding the investigations Max was involved in when he died.” “I’m not leaving here without the hostages,” he answered straight away. “You want your file you have to let them go.” It was the first moment I realised that if they hadn’t been spying on him from the beginning, knowing every move he was going to make the whole thing would have been over in half the time and we would have all been home safely hours ago. Veronica stiffened, clearly not expecting him to make that demand. I didn’t have time to enjoy the realisation though because McGuirk lost his cool and pulled back the hammer on the gun. It sounded so loud against my ear and I almost screamed, tears spilling from my eyes. I didn’t want to die. I wrapped my arms around myself, across my belly and the sudden sickening knot that had settled there. “He won’t hurt you,” Frank raised his voice a little so that I would hear him over the sound of my own distress. He met my eyes, his own asking for my trust in him. “She’s all that stands between you and me, McGuirk. Think about that you’re doing. Right now you’re looking at walking out of here with everything you want, but if you hurt her… everything changes.” “You think so?” McGuirk moved the gun from behind my ear to the side of my temple and Veronica moved her gun to point it at Frank. Two of the three officers in the stairwell moved to cover her with their weapons. “Please!” the word burst from my lips. I trusted him, his judgement, but this was too much. My stomach was knotted so tightly it actually hurt, my head ached, I almost daren’t breathe. “What’s it to be, Ronnie?” he asked softly, but not before I’d seen him tighten his jaw in response to my distress. She reached out to take me from McGuirk’s near strangle hold, pulling me in front of her and putting her gun under my chin, to force my head back against her shoulder. “Go and get the others,” she instructed and then turned to Frank. “We get the file and transport out of here, you get the girl.” “The others leave now,” he said, his eyes telling me to hold on just a little while longer. I felt the woman behind me nod her agreement. One of the police officers moved up out of the stairwell to provide better cover for the hostages as they hurried down the stairs. Frank was the last to leave, backing down the steps, his eyes never leaving mine. UC APARTMENT JAKE SHAW/ANTON KALE: 4.50am Saturday The gun was slapped off the nightstand and he was pinned to the bed by a figure straddling him. Seconds later the light came on and he was forced to screw up his eyes until they adjusted. He looked at the woman pinning him to the bed. Blonde, quite tall from the look of her, not that he could tell properly from where she was sitting across his lap on top of the bedclothes. Behind her, the woman from before… from the motel where he’d met Reeves-Masterton. In the better light he was now sure it was the woman from the team. He only hoped that Alex had been able to get Monica to listen. “I didn’t know you cared so much for my physical needs,” he whispered, reaching up a hand suddenly to the blonde woman’s head to draw her down and kiss her lips. He figured it was the kind of thing Kale would have done. She pulled back and slapped his face. “That was a very foolish thing you did, Mr Kale,” Reeves-Masterton said lazily from a chair across the room by the closet. “You can’t wake a red blooded man with a beautiful woman sitting over him like this and expect me not to react. She wanted it,” he replied and stopped her from slapping him with a fiercely dangerous look. “I wasn’t referring to your kissing Mrs Donovan.” Reeves-Masterton said. It took all of Jake’s self control not to react. “Though I’m sure it was a foolish move on your part. Clare has been known to kill men for less.” “He meant down by the docks.” The woman with the gun snapped. “I could have killed you.” “And I still might,” he hissed and pushed the woman from his lap and got out of bed, reaching for his pants to cover his modesty. “You didn’t tell me you’re a Fed.” “There are a lot of things we haven’t told each other, are there not, Mr Kale?” Reeves-Masterton purred. “But no matter. Get dressed. My business partner is anxious to meet you.” Jake felt a flush of elation through his body as he went to the closet to get a fresh shirt to go with the pants. He buttoned the shirt quickly – sure that by lunch time he would have everything settled. ** RESIDENCE MONICA DAVIS: 3.20pm Saturday The minute she opened the door he grabbed her arm and dragged her through to her bedroom. ”We are so busted,” he told her urgently. “Well hello to you too, Cody,” she said sarcastically. “And how was your sick relative?” “Pissed,” he said. “What did you tell him exactly… about what was going on?” He moaned and ran his fingers through his hair when she gave him a sheepish look. “You told him nothing did you?” he squeaked, “Not about Jake, about Saran… you didn’t tell him we were still investigating the case.” “Cody… when I went to see him he was still out of it,” she said trying to defend herself. “Yeah, well…” he hissed. “I assumed that you’d told him and went in explaining to him how we understood it was personal and probably painful for him, but that we needed to know what had happened because we needed to crack the case…” Monica started laughing. “Stop it!” he said, not laughing at all, even though he could see why she thought it amusing. “His blood pressure went so high the freaking alarms started going off.” “Cody, he’ll get over it,” she said, trying to control herself. “No,” he said, and slapped a piece of paper into the middle of her chest, much has Donovan had done almost a month before. “Unless we find out the name of the person behind this, nothing… will be the same. That’s why Saran left. And I’m willing to lay down any amount of money you care to name that she knows the identity of the man at the top.” He took his hand off the paper at last for her to look at what had so upset him. She paled. Each step I took I was terrified that I would fall. You wouldn’t think that walking down the stairs, held by someone using you as a human shield would be so hard, but it was. Frank was there, three paces ahead of us, always three… three stairs down, file folder in one hand, gun in the other, trained on Veronica and McGuirk. And tired, so very, very tired that when the fresh air hit me, as we finally reached the bottom and Frank opened the door, leading us out into the darkness, I almost swooned. “Keep walking, bitch!” McGuirk hissed in my ear. Then we got to the car… one of those plain fleet cars that I’d seen following me about earlier in the day before. There was a bit of a stand off. They didn’t want to let go of me – Frank wouldn’t let go of the file. It was just the three of them and me. Frank had stood down the rest of the team to make the exchange less stressful for everyone. “I’m going to put the file on the hood of the car,” he said. “Let her go.” “We’ll let her go when we know it’s the right file,” Veronica answered. She pulled me once more from McGuirk’s grasp and held me so tightly that I thought I was going to choke. McGuirk went to the car, and flipped through the file. He nodded. “Keys,” he snapped. What happened next has remained in my dreams – in my nightmares – ever since. It was as though time crawled around me and everything was moving as if underwater, or more accurately, in molasses. Veronica had backed up to the side of the car with me, waiting for Frank to comply and hand over the keys. When McGuirk made his demand, Frank tossed the keys in his direction. McGuirk had to stow his weapon to catch the deliberately awkwardly thrown keys and then to unlock the car. As Veronica turned slightly, almost but not quite turning away from Frank, he called her name. She spun to face him, tightening her grip on the gun against my head. I’ve never heard a gunshot before – not so close anyway. As she started to turn back toward him Frank pulled the trigger on his gun, not once, but twice in very quick succession. The first shot took her in the shoulder. She was taller than me and it was exposed. It spun her further away from me. Blood splashed on the side of my neck and face and I screamed. His second shot hit her in the centre of her forehead. “Let him go!” he yelled to the Agents and policemen that rushed forward to try and get a shot off at McGuirk, who in panic was driving the car backward down the street until he could turn it. I remember fighting Frank, hysterical as his arms folded around me and he pulled me in, to stop me from hurting either of us – and then the feeling of nausea that had been with me almost constantly since the whole thing began grabbed hold with a vengeance and stole the strength from my legs. I know he didn’t let go, even when I was sick in the side of the road. He just held me as close as he could and whispered the sweet words that I knew were a lie – and though no fault of his – that everything was all right now. That I was safe… MORGAN CREEK, IL: 6.45pm Saturday “We know, okay, Saran,” Cody stood next to her while Monica sat in the seat. “We know why you had to leave. Why you did the things you have.” “They threatened the child, didn’t they?” Monica asked more softly. “That if you didn’t leave him they’d do something to you and you’d lose it? We understand, but…” “What would you have done?” Saran finally cracked under their repeated pressure, the pressure of them telling her the tale as far as they had worked it out. They were pretty close and unlocked the grief she had somehow managed to push inside when the other agent… what had been his name – Jake – had told her that she’d done and they had demanded. That she had killed Frank. That thought broke it all down… she wept in anguish “I was pregnant… and scared. I’d seen what they’d done… how they’d watched us without either of us knowing.” “We can end this,” Cody leaned down across her chair and made her look at him. “You know don’t you. The name of the person responsible.” “I can’t…” she cried, pushing him away. “You just give us the name, and we will take him out,” Monica caught her instead. “No!” she pushed her away too. “I can’t… you don’t understand anything do you. They have my child. If you go anywhere near… if you…” She broke off, and stood up, backing away from the agents. Cody followed, taking hold of her hands. “Saran, I understand. I know how frightened you were, and are, but you should have told him. Told Frank what was going on,” he said. “He could have protected you.” “You… have… no idea!” she gritted her teeth to get the words out past her tears. “I loved that man more than I can possibly say. More than my life! They made me leave like that to stop him pursuing the case that killed Max… if he didn’t stop they were going to kill him, and kill our child and I was the only on that could keep them both safe, but I died doing it because he wasn’t there with me. “And so long as he left the case alone we were safe. Locked away from everything that gave meaning to my life but safe... but he just had to take it up again – and they came storming in like the wrath of God and took my baby from my arms as though it was all my fault and not some faceless bureaucrat.” Monica tried to move closer. She had obviously recognised the tone in Saran’s voice… someone that had lost everything and had nothing left to lose… it was a dangerous place to be, but Saran moved a step away, still holding Cody’s hands as he held hers. “He was doing his job,” she said softly instead. “Yes…” she shook Cody’s hands up and down like she was trying to make a point, her face crumpled in. “And look where it got him. Look what I did to him…! He had the gun in his hands, it would have been okay – he was going to listen, he…” “Cody, don’t!” Monica said as he opened his mouth to speak. “So don’t you ask me to tell you anything more!” Saran suddenly snapped, anger rushing in to take the place of her tears, the progress of it almost visible over her face. “This case has already taken Frank from me. I am not going to sacrifice the child he gave me!” “Saran he’s okay, he…” “Cody!” Monica gave the warning a split second too late. Understanding dawned on Saran’s face, and then further she made an intuitive leap to entirely the wrong conclusions – that Frank was out there still working on the case. “No!” she screamed at Cody, and pushing hard against him and dragging her wrists away from his grasp she closed her hands around his weapon and she pulled it from the holster. She screamed the next words at them. “I will not let you do this. This is my child you’re risking. And he doesn’t know she exists.” He stumbled and fell, giving her the chance she needed to get away as Monica tried to catch him. She ignored their frantic cries for her to stop and the pain in her hand as she tore a nail trying to get the screen door of Cody’s uncle’s house open. It all paled into insignificant nonsense against the certainty she felt that she was about to lose her child. The cold air blowing against my legs roused me from the state of near paralysis I was in, and I felt him lean across me to unfasten the belt. “Come on, baby,” he crouched beside me looking up. “We’re home… let’s get you inside.” “I’m okay,” I answered, hearing my voice shaking. Absently I pushed my hair back from where the wind was tossing it over my face. I must have phased out again then, because the next thing I remember was sitting down again, this time on something soft. “Frank,” I whispered his name and he turned back from where he was hanging up his jacket. “Hold me.” He crossed the room in an instant and I was in the warmth of his arms. That was when the tears began, tears I hadn’t been able to cry at the building, or at the hospital – not even when I thought they wouldn’t let me come home that night. That night… my last at his side… how could I bear the thought of having to leave? “I love you so much,” I sobbed against his chest. He cupped my face between his hands, drew me back to look at me, full of the same depth of feeling… washing over me. He brushed his thumbs over my cheeks to wipe away the tears. “We’re going to be all right, Saran.” He kissed first one cheek and then the other, his tongue lifting the tears away as fast as I cried them. “I promise we’ll be okay.” “I…” I should have told him… then – that was the moment but I just buckled, kept thinking of what they said they’d do to him. So I whispered, “I know.” When next he lowered his head to kiss away a tear I moved so that my lips met his. In other circumstances it might have been passionate, but we were both so very tired that it was slow… a smouldering passion that was a meeting of hearts as well as lips. Our lips softened and I opened to him, to let him stroke my tongue with his, and with shaking hands, pushing off the leather shoulder holster. He shrugged it off, and it moved him too far away. I couldn’t feel enough of him against me. “Don’t…” I breathed. “I just need you so much.” We kissed then, holding tightly to each other until we lay back against the bed. Just being there together… touching and kissing for a very long time… only I felt as if the world were coming to an end. “We should…” he began softly. “I don’t want to sleep.” I murmured, still tearful. “I don’t ever want tonight to end.” “Saran, what’s wrong?” he leaned up on one elbow, his hand resting on my stomach. It fluttered under his touch. “Sorry, stupid question… but it’s over now. You’re safe.” “Yes,” I sniffed, and guided his hand onto my skin where my shirt had ridden up. My eyes closed as his fingers began to move over my side, and the soft caresses on the top of my shoulders got larger, firmer until I began leaning into his touch. Gentle kisses began to fall softly over my face and neck, I moaned to try and deny the fresh tears access to my eyes. I might as well have saved the trouble, they came anyway… only increasing as he unfastened the shirt and continued to kiss down over me… kissing the tops of my breasts and downward. He leaned his head for a moment on my stomach, looking up at the tears still rolling from my eyes and looked as though he was trying to understand them. His hand skimmed upward to caress my breast as he gave me a heartbreakingly tender look. “Saran,” he whispered, moving so that he could kiss my lips, “Please don’t cry.” “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Clothing surrendered to touches that became increasingly urgent, passionate and strong, but always gentle, always careful. He was always careful with me, reminding me how precious I was to him… as he was to me. Naked, he lay back and moved to guide me over him, straddling his hips. I leaned into the touch of his hands that glided up my body to cup my breasts as I sank down onto him, biting my lip as he filled me, my tiny hands braced against his shoulder, the muscles moving under my fingers as he caressed me, touched me… never stopped touching. Oh dead God, why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t I wake in the morning and find it was all some dreadful dream? “Frank,” I sobbed, falling forward onto his chest “Not enough, not close enough…” He wrapped me in his arms, and rolled to cover me. Pressing all of his body against me, kissing me and filling my mouth as he filled me below. I made a sound somewhere between a sob and crying out for the pleasure of the feeling and let my head fall back. Kisses showered down on my neck, he nipped with sharp teeth and soothed the sting with his tongue as we fell into a rhythm. We knew each other, he knew how to touch me… how to move with me to bring me the most sensation as I knew where to touch, how to love… so long in the learning. So much love. We spun it as a web around us, the strands tightening as we moved together and felt each move he made over and in me – so alive to him. The sensations rose, winding tighter and tighter until I was gasping with each thrust that brought him into me and calling his name as he withdrew until the bright wave broke and brought him with me. He cried out my name as he lost himself inside me. “Saran,” he breathed a second later, “My love…” “My life…” I answered. We wept, both of us, and then drifted into sleep together… tears still spilling from my eyes, and he still whispering soothing words against my hair. I woke suddenly just before dawn, still wrapped in the warmth of his arms. I had to go now, while he was sleeping. If I waited, I’d fail… I’d falter… and then everything would all go wrong… he’d be hurt he… “What’s wrong?” he murmured, gathering me closer. “Just a dream I guess…” I whispered fighting tears. I kissed the middle of his chest. “Frank I love you so much.” “I love you too,” he answered sleepily. I moved quietly out of his arms a little, “Where are you going?” “Bathroom,” I whispered. He let go then and I made my way to the bathroom, and to the clothes that were there. I leaned against the door and suddenly felt breathless with the pain that spread out from my heart. I shook with the sobs that wracked my small body as I dressed. Every single moment we had shared flashed before my eyes, every kiss, every touch… and visions of what we could have been… I don’t know how I made it down the stairs to the door, but when I opened it, they were waiting there. I stood, tears streaming down my face, looking back into the house. “Please…” I whispered through those tears. They took my arms and led me from the house. Someone entered to place an envelope onto the table in the lounge, but I had already left him a note. Written as I sat in the bathroom that morning… a crude un-tempered poem, trying to convey that I didn’t want to go… “Where I have gone before I pray to go again And waking to life Live in love, with you a part of me. Kind weavers of destiny, bring me home. End this torment that I may Dream forgiveness and allow a moment to remember.” I tried not to think of the pain he would feel when he found me gone. I was already dying from my own at having to leave. As they led me to the car I pushed a protective hand against the child that was all I had left of him. NORTHWEST MEMORIAL HOSPITAL: 10pm Saturday He lay awake, though his eyes were closed, frustrated beyond belief that he was still in the hospital bed, where there was nothing he could do. Since Cody’s visit his mind had been a whirl of activity, the pieces of the puzzle floating around in his head. It had been Veronica Sharpe, Reeves-Masterton’s secretary that had gotten Max into the business when they had the affair, and they’d had the affair… he reached, grasping… because they’d wanted his silence – had paid him off… He felt a pang of guilt that his brother could have done that. Clare had brought him around; he’d gone back to her… she made him give up working for Masterton. And then he’d died. It was a stupid mistake… a single hesitation that he still didn’t understand and they’d blown him away. He knew Clare blamed herself for that. He’d lost count of the times he’d held her, weeping and blaming herself for her husbands death… that if she’d let him carry on then he’d still be alive and their son would still have a father, and he’d be a happily married man with… He stopped dead, his eyes snapped open. Had he told her that? About the connection between the CNU case and Saran… and about how he suspected they’d taken her again to keep his silence…? He made himself back up… go over ever detail looking for the answer to that question – he fought back wave after wave of emotion that crashed over him until he was reeling under the force of it and his pillow was wet with the tears he’d shed. “You put me onto this case, Quiller. You wanted me to investigate and now you’re telling me to stop?” The Presidential Aide walked over and put a hand onto his shoulder. “I’m ASKING you to stop, Frank. For your own good… you need to face it – she’s gone. She’s not coming back, and you’re not going to find her.” “You don’t know that,” he growled in denial. “Yes, Frank, I do.” Quiller said quietly. “It’s been six months and you’re no closer to finding her now that you were when she first walked out. The Bureau needs you back. You can do ANY job you want – you have my word. Whatever you want I’ll clear it with the Justice Department. But the Bureau needs you. Your sister-in-law needs you…” Anthony Quiller… and Clare? A rattle against his IV pole set every danger sense he possessed into overdrive. Even without knowing who it was, or where exactly there were he moved as quickly as his still healing injuries would allow. Rolling onto his side he stretched out his right hand to catch a slender wrist in his grasp. He surprised himself at how strong it was. Slowly he opened his eyes. “Clare,” he said softly, seeing his sister-in-law standing over him with the syringe poised against the cannula in the back of his hand. “What’s in that?” “I don’t know,” she said. She sounded afraid. “They just told me…” “How long, Clare?” he asked, feeling utterly betrayed. “How long have you been working for Quiller? It is Quiller, isn’t it?” “Yes,” she whispered. He squeezed until the syringe dropped from her hand. “After Max’s death… he just turned up… offered to help – college fees for Mark and medical expenses and…” “So you sold out,” he finished the sentence. “It wasn’t like that. Please Frank, let go. You’re hurting me,” she said. “All he wanted was for me to keep quiet about what I knew…” “You’re lying. It doesn’t make sense,” he snapped. “Why would he buy your silence and then have me investigate the case?” “He thought he was being cheated. That Reeves-Masterton was cutting in a third party and using Quiller’s share to do it,” she said. “But you were never meant to get as close as you did…” “And all the while I was confiding in you, you were running to him.” Frank said, finally letting her go. “No one was meant to get hurt, Frank,” she said. “When he told me what he planned to do, to shut you down I tried to stop… wanted to warn you, but they threatened my son.” “It’s what they do, Clare… people like that,” he said, falling exhausted back to the bed. “And the only way to end that is to stop them. Tell me where they are…” “It’s too late Frank. You’d never get to them in time.” He fixed her with a long hard stare, realising that his team had somehow been compromised and that there as nothing he could do from his bed he then snapped. “Help me get up, and then get me to a phone.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ If . . . In The End - Chapter 4 |