Two Evils

by Christina Moore

  He blinked rapidly and fought to steady his suddenly racing pulse, telling himself that there was no reason to be so afraid. Billie had taken a beating but she had survived. It was what she did, and he reminded himself that she’d been both a Marine and an OO like himself—she’d been through situations like this before. Hell, she’d been through worse, and yet she was still here.

  Her voice as she came down the stairs was a clear reminder. John turned away from the gruesome scene before him and walked toward her, finding her with a cordless handset to her ear.

  “I really need to speak with Ted Ryan right away, I’m his sister,” she was saying. “Yeah, I’d call our brother getting shot in the fucking back an emergency, asshole. Put Ted on the phone!”

  John grimaced, but he waited patiently while she held the phone with one hand and rubbed a towel against her head with the other. Anger had flushed her cheeks, where bruises were already beginning to form, and he felt anger surge through him at the thought of her being hit.

  Her entire posture changed suddenly, and he knew her brother had finally gotten on the line. “Teddy,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “No, it’s not a joke. You know me better than that. Kevin was shot… Yeah, in the back… I promise that I will explain everything when I can, but suffice it to say that some jackass motherfucker who wanted to kill me caught Dad and Kev here at the house… No! Dad’s fine, I promise. He’s at Georgetown now with Kevin…. Yes, the bastard is dead… No, he makes one seventy-two; I’ve also taken out his entire crew in the last three days… Teddy, just get to the hospital. Dad and Kevin need you more than I do. I’m going to call Andy next… I know he’s only been home an hour or two, but you know as well as I do he’ll turn right back around and be at the hospital with you guys before nightfall—you know he won’t listen to me if I tell him not to come. Do you have any way of getting a hold of Tommy? I think he should be made aware of what’s happened… Okay, will you call his post then? I really need to go—I’ve got work to do… No, it’s an unrelated matter, and yes it’s important enough to not be with my family. You know I wouldn’t take off otherwise, Theodore… All right, give my love to Dad. I’ll be there as soon as I can… I am fine, I promise… I love you, too.”

  It was actually quite fascinating to watch her conversing with her brother; although he couldn’t hear Ted Ryan’s side of the exchange, John could certainly imagine it. She went through much the same song and dance with Andy when he answered her call, and when she hung up at last, she grinned lopsidedly.

  “Like I said, he’s not listening to me,” she told him. “Andy will be back in town tonight. Said he wasn’t going to abandon the family in a crisis.”

  John nodded his approval. “As well he shouldn’t. Listen, why don’t we get out of here? We just might be able to catch the change of shift, if you still want to go through with your plan.”

  She looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded. Setting the phone down on the coffee table, Billie turned for the door. As they were walking out, a white van—with a mop and bucket pictured on the side—pulled up behind the Explorer. Two people got out and walked up the path, the older of the two women saying that they’d been contacted by the police department about cleaning up the crime scene. Billie explained in clipped sentences about the carpet in the living room and where else they could find a mess. She then asked that they lock the door when they left, to which the woman nodded. Billie then continued on her way to the car, leaving him to do nothing but follow.

  Once they were on the road again, she surprised him by saying, “There’s only one thing I regret about killing Andre.”

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “He claimed he knew who had given his grandfather my real identity.”

  John scoffed. “Billie, do you really think he knew? Family or not, you know as well as I do that Grigori Sardetsky shares pertinent information with only one person: Vasily, his aide-de-camp. It’s doubtful Andre could have told you anything useful.”

  “I know, but… Part of me wonders if, just maybe, he was telling the truth for once.” She turned to him then. “You didn’t see his eyes, John. He was terrified of going to prison, because he knew that even there Grigori could get to him. And you know just as well as I do that failing to complete his mission would have meant forfeiting his life. The only way to save himself would have been to turn state’s evidence and be granted a whole new identity.”

  “And you killed him because you couldn’t let that happen,” he said quietly.

  “No, I killed him because he was trying to kill me,” Billie retorted. When he turned a raised eyebrow her way again, she groaned. “All right, fine. And because I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if he’d gotten a brand new life to only end up doing the same shit he’s been doing for the last decade. Except now I won’t have to feel guilty about it. My father realized what I was going to do and he took a chance at getting shot in the head to spare me that.”

  “So… You’re not feeling guilty about shooting Andre because you got into a fight with him and the homicide became justifiable, but you are feeling guilty because your father recognized you were about to commit murder?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. My father should never have had to see what he’s seen today. He should never have had to look into his daughter’s eyes and watched her make that choice.”

  John sighed. “Billie, your father is well aware of the dangerous life you’ve led. You were a Marine for six years. You worked for the CIA in places you can’t tell him you’ve been doing things he’s better off not knowing about. But he’s a smart man—I doubt he’s unaware of you having been in danger before. And while I agree that it’s unfortunate he was dragged into that danger today, instead of dwelling on what he shouldn’t have seen, I think you should be proud of him for being just as willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good as you were for ten years.”

  Billie swallowed. “I am proud of him,” she said.

  She turned away again to look out the window. “I usually don’t dwell on ‘what if’, but this one does bug me,” she continued. “Someone who knows me or knows of me gave me up—there’s no other way for Grigori to have gotten that information. Absolutely none, because the identity I used when I was under back in Russia was airtight.”

  John nodded. “That’s true. When I first got this assignment I looked into your old cases for clues, remember? Your bases were definitely covered—there’s no connection between Wilhelmina Ryan and Nastasja Aldorev anywhere.”

  “Which brings us back to the obvious: someone gave me up. The question is, who?” Billie said with a frown. Then she shrugged. “I want to look into it, but it’s going to have to wait. Making sure my friends and my family are safe is more important.”

  He nodded again and the rest of the ride was silent. When they arrived, they passed through the Metro Entrance facility and were walking into the Pentagon in moments. Billie had grumbled about having to leave her Sig in the car, and given what she’d been through today John could understand her reluctance to leave it behind even for a few minutes. Once they were scanned through security they entered the main lobby…

  …just in time to run into General Wainright.

  Billie bristled slightly, but remained calm as he approached them. “Good heavens, Miss Ryan, whatever happened to you? You look as if you’ve been in one hell of a bar fight.”

  “Dining room, actually,” she quipped. “On the right side I took a boot to the face and got slapped a couple times, on the left I took a pretty hefty punch. But hey, shit happens. You should see the other guy.”

  Wainright frowned. “I certainly hope that whoever did this is in police custody,” he said sternly.

  “Actually, he’s in the custody of the Fairfax County Coroner’s Office.”

  The general raised his eyebrows. “Even better, I suspect,” he said. “In any case, I do hope you’ve come to give me some positive news. I was out most of the morning but my office did rec
eive a number of calls from an Agent Rex Bentley; when I was able to return his call, he could only tell me that you were following a lead. Does that have anything to do with the brawl you were in?”

  She shook her head as John told him, “No, the two incidents are unrelated. The trail we were following was based on a hunch Miss Ryan had as to where Col. Scofield and the others might have gone into hiding. Unfortunately, they’d disappeared from there as well by the time we arrived.”

  “Damn,” Wainright muttered.

  “Don’t worry, General,” Billie said then. “I have every confidence I’ll find the guys before too long. I’ve a few other locations in mind we might check out, places we’d gone as a team to unwind after a hard mission.”

  He nodded. “Returning to a place of familiarity and positive memories makes sense,” he said. “Well, I wish the news were better, but at least you’ve had some luck. You know where they’ve been recently, at least. I hope your next efforts are more rewarding.”

  “So do I, General,” Billie replied with a small smile. After Wainright said goodbye and walked away, she watched him for a moment, muttering, “So do I.”

  John and Billie walked over to the information desk. “Excuse me,” she asked one of the two crisp-suited persons behind it. “Can you tell me if 1st Lt. Rebecca Stevens is still on the premises? She’s a friend of mine, and I’d very much like to see her if she’s still here.”

  The woman turned to her computer and typed something in. “It says here she hasn’t checked out of the building. Lt. Stevens works in office 227, at the end of that hallway.”

  Billie looked over her shoulder and nodded. John thanked the woman and they headed in the direction she’d indicated. Having passed the office once before, they found 227 easily enough, and after knocking lightly, a familiar female voice bade them enter.

  Rebecca looked up from the paperwork she was gathering together and smiled. “Captain Ryan, hello! What happened to you? I’m surprised to see you two days in a row.”

  Grimacing, Billie’s reply was, “It’s a long story. And as I’m due to explain it to some others, you’ll hear it soon enough.”

  Rebecca was obviously curious, but said nothing. Her eyes then flicked to John. “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t catch your name yesterday.”

  John smiled easily. “That’s probably because I didn’t have the chance to introduce myself, being that mine and Billie’s schedule was so tight. I’m Special Agent John Courtney, CIA.”

  He’d stepped forward and held his hand out to her. Rebecca’s expression remained curious as she stood and shook with him. “Guess you’re not so uninvolved with the CIA after all, Captain,” the younger woman said.

  Billie raised an eyebrow. “To be truthful, I’m merely a technical consultant. John’s requested my help with a case concerning individuals I encountered during my tenure with the agency.”

  The statement, John mused, wasn’t entirely inaccurate. He flashed his smile at Rebecca again, adding, “In fact, we’ve realized we could use your assistance as well, Lieutenant,” he said casually. “That is, if you have the time and inclination.”

  Rebecca glanced down at the folders on her desk. “I just have to get all this put away, but sure, I’m at your disposal, sir.”

  John looked to Billie, who nodded, and then he said to Rebecca, “Thank you. We really appreciate your help.”

  He turned to Billie again as Rebecca went back to getting her paperwork put away. She swallowed heavily, her eyes following the other woman with pain and regret. John believed he knew how she felt—he didn’t care for the devastating blow they were soon to deliver anymore than she did.

  Rebecca turned to them then and Billie’s countenance instantly changed. John doubted Rebecca had even noticed the difference.

  “I’m ready when you are,” she said, pulling a tan hat from a drawer as she spoke, then lifting her uniform jacket from the back of her chair. John gestured for the ladies to precede him out the door, which Rebecca turned to and locked before stepping away from it.

  “What exactly is it that you do here, if I may ask?” Billie queried.

  “I’m basically a filing clerk,” she explained as she put her jacket on. “I share the office with another clerk, and what I do is file reports for the brass, or look up reports that any officer of higher rank requests. There are a few dozen of us here,” she added with a laugh.

  “So you could sign in to any computer in the building and access the files?” Billie pressed.

  “Yes and no,” Rebecca replied. “First, I’d have to have the passcode to access the terminal—you know how sensitive information retention is around here, I’m sure—and then I’d have to have the clearance to access the files themselves. At my current level, I couldn’t access classified documents unless granted specific clearance.”

  Billie only nodded, and John mused that she was probably thinking personal files wouldn’t be nearly restricted so long as the terminal could be accessed.

  The three walked to the Access Control station to check out before exiting the building. Thankfully they’d stopped at the Enterprise lot and exchanged the Ford for his Charger on the way, as Rebecca would’ve had more questions than they were yet prepared to answer, not to mention that they’d possibly have not made it through the gate with a missing window and bullet holes in the hatchback. He knew the Requisitions office at headquarters was already going to have his ass for getting the Explorer shot up and bloodstained as it was.

  For several minutes Billie engaged Rebecca in idle chatter, and he joined in where appropriate. The two of them talked about their respective military careers. Billie talked about the differences between the Marine Corps and the CIA. John knew that she was trying to keep Rebecca occupied so she wouldn’t be able to retrace their path to the safe house, an unfortunately necessary precaution in light of what Billie would be asking her to do. He also noticed that she was carefully avoiding the subject of the younger woman’s brother, though he didn’t think for one second that Eddie wasn’t on Billie’s mind.

  Almost before he knew it himself, John was turning into the driveway of the safe house.

  “Where are we?” Rebecca asked as Agent Green once again held his hand out for them to stop. He then approached the window and asked for their identification. Once he’d inspected the ID cards and compared them closely to the people in the car, he handed them back and waved John forward.

  “Where are we?” Rebecca asked again.

  Billie sighed as she got out, looking at John over the top of the Charger as Rebecca was doing the same. He could see the pain in her eyes, knew she was already hating herself for what she was about to do to the young woman before her.

  “Come inside with us, Becky,” Billie said at last as she looked back at her. “There are some people here you need to see, and there’s something we need to tell you.”

  John noted Rebecca’s expression changing from mere curiosity to outright apprehension—she wasn’t liking this one bit. Nevertheless, she followed Billie up the back steps. He brought up the rear, stepping across the threshold in time to see Gabe walk into the kitchen, stop short, and say, “Billie, what happened to you…and what the hell is she doing here?”

  EIGHTEEN

  “Hello to you too, Major,” Rebecca said wryly, stepping around Billie.

  Billie stuffed her hands into her back pockets. “Andre Sardetsky happened to me,” she said, answering the first part of his question. “After we dropped Dr. Stone off at the hospital, John and I went by my father’s house to check on him, given what happened to his neighbor. Andre and his last remaining stooge were there and had taken Dad and Kevin hostage. Kevin must’ve gotten away from them somehow, because as we were walking into the yard he came out the front door warning me to run. Andre’s stooge shot him in the back.”

  “Holy fuck!” Gabe exclaimed. “Is Kevin going to be all right?”

  She shrugged, fighting the urge to break down and cry. “I don’t know for sure. He was c
ritical when they took him away.”

  Darren came into the kitchen then, his left arm in a makeshift sling. He took one look at Rebecca and muttered, “Fuck me.” He then looked to Billie—probably to ask her the same thing Gabe had—and paused, blinking. “Okay, who the hell kicked your ass?”

  “A Russian hit squad has been after Billie since before I brought her back to the States,” John told him. “They followed us here, we don’t know how, and today they took Thomas and Kevin Ryan hostage. Kevin was shot trying to warn us away from the house.”

  Darren’s expression darkened and it was then that Billie recalled he and Kevin had become pretty close friends. “Please tell me that son of a bitch is dead.”

  Billie nodded. “Yeah, I got him.”

  “Forgive me, Captain, but if your brother’s been shot, what are you doing here?” Rebecca queried. “Why am I here—is Eddie here too? What is this place?”

  A pained expression crossed Gabe’s features as he regarded her, his eyes flicking to Billie as he bemoaned, “Oh Christ, Billie. Why did you bring her here?”

  “Because she is his sister, and she deserves to know the truth,” Billie retorted, earning a confused stare from Rebecca. “And because we need her.”

  Rebecca turned so that she was standing between them. “Will somebody please tell me what is going on? Where’s my brother?”

  Billie swallowed against the sudden knot in her throat. “Becky, you’re going to want to sit down for this, honey.”

  She watched fear creep into Rebecca’s confusion, watched her battle for control of it. “With all due respect, ma’am, I’ll stand. I want to know what is going on and why you’ve brought me here.”

  She had to give it to the lieutenant—she was a tough one. But Billie knew in her gut that the moment the truth sank in, she’d fall apart.

  “Becky, please sit down,” Gabe said, stepping toward her.

  Rebecca fisted her hands on her hips. “No! I’m tired of you all pussy-footing around—somebody just tell me what is going on!”