Commitment

by Healy, Nancy Ann

  Alex shook her head and erupted in an unusual animated guffaw when she felt Cassidy give over entirely to her laughter. “I don’t care what anyone says,” Cassidy continued to laugh. “He is your son.”

  Jane approached Dylan and gave him a hug. “So, you are going to have a little brother or sister, huh?”

  “A sidekick!” he exclaimed happily.

  “Of course, a sidekick,” she agreed.

  Stephanie Merrow pointed to her younger sister and whispered in Dylan’s ear. “Welcome to the club, little man!”

  “So?” Jane said as she made her way to Alex and Cassidy. “Holding out on me, huh?”

  “Never,” Alex said as Cassidy continued to laugh.

  Jane pried Cassidy away from Alex and took her into an embrace. “Oh, Cassidy. You must be on cloud nine.”

  “More like on the bathroom floor,” Cassidy whispered with a chuckle.

  “Oh boy,” Jane giggled. “Alex driving you crazy yet?”

  “No, but you know…”

  “Hey,” Alex interrupted. “What are you two whispering about over here?”

  “Oh, Alex….please,” Jane dismissed her. “This is girl talk.”

  “Umm…last time I checked,” Alex began.

  “Go on,” Jane waved her hand. “Go play with Jonathan for a while,” she ordered.

  Alex stood with her mouth agape as she watched Cassidy happily allow Jane to lead her away. “I give up,” she chuckled. She returned her focus to the center of the room where Dylan was engaged in telling an animated story to the captive audience of the Merrow sisters. Rose and Helen were sitting on the sofa; both sipping wine and talking quietly. She smiled at the display. “Who said things never change?” she said to herself.

  “Alex?” Krause made his way quietly toward his friend.

  “Hey,” she said. “Listen, I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I mean…I just wanted to tell you in person.”

  “Alex, don’t worry about it,” he said.

  Alex looked at him and immediately noticed the worry that was creasing Krause’s forehead and how his thumb was absently scratching his chin. “What is it?” she asked.

  “Fallon just left me a message. Can we….”

  Alex nodded. “Follow me,” she said, leading him toward the kitchen. “All right. What is it?”

  Krause sighed heavily. “You know that Cheryl Stephens walked into the FBI right before Christmas.”

  “Yeah?” she prodded him.

  “Tate assigned an agent to follow her. Last night they found that agent in his car. He was shot at point blank range,” Krause told her. He watched Alex’s eyes harden and her jaw tighten.

  “Who was the agent?” Alex asked. Krause hesitated. “Krause…who was the agent assigned?”

  “Rolands,” Krause answered.

  “Shit,” Alex exhaled forcefully. “Shit. Rolands has two kids. Jesus.”

  “Alex, there’s more. It sent up red flags…this morning they….”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake, Krause! You’ve engineered assassinations. Just tell me,” Alex finally exploded.

  “She’s dead, Alex. They found Cheryl in Douglas Park,” Krause finally told her.

  Alex lifted her hands to her temples and began to knead forcefully. Cassidy and Jane who were making their way back down the hallway heard Alex’s voice rising steadily and had made their way to the room. Immediately, Cassidy noticed the tell-tale signs of stress in her wife. She took a deep breath, praying that her stomach would not revolt. “Alex?” Cassidy called. “What is going on?”

  Alex looked up and across the room to her wife and friend. “Not here,” Alex said. “Let’s go into the family room.”

  “Alex, I am okay,” Cassidy began.

  “I know. It’s not that,” Alex said as she wrapped her arm around Cassidy’s waist. “Please, trust me. Come on, Jane. You might as well hear it now too,” she said, leading the group down the hall. Alex directed Cassidy and Jane to sit and took a seat beside her wife.

  “All right, what is going on?” Cassidy repeated her earlier question.

  “Cass…remember I told you that Cheryl walked into the FBI?” Alex asked. “She…Cassidy, they found her body this morning…”

  “What are you saying?” Cassidy questioned. “Someone killed Cheryl? Why? Who?”

  “I don’t know,” Alex said softly. “We were just getting to that when…”

  Cassidy immediately looked to Krause. “Pip?” she implored him.

  Krause glanced at Alex to ensure he wanted her to proceed. Her assent was clear, and he took a deep breath to continue. “I don’t have all of the details. Only what Fallon left on my voice-mail,” he told them. “They found her in the park without any identification. Fallon identified her. She,” Krause struggled under Cassidy’s gaze. “She was brutally beaten and strangled.” He heard Cassidy’s gasp and watched as Alex pulled her closer. He looked at Jane, who had covered her face with her hands in disbelief. “There’s more,” he said cautiously. Alex looked at him fearfully.

  “Go on,” Cassidy said quietly, still holding onto Alex.

  “Cassie….she left Chris on Christmas Eve…she filed a complaint….they’re bringing him in for questioning,” he said as gently as he could.

  Cassidy covered her mouth with her hand. “Excuse me,” she said, fleeing the room.

  “Shit,” Alex groaned. “I’ll be back,” she said.

  “Jonathan,” Jane looked to her friend. “You don’t think he really did this; do you? I mean I have no use for the man, but…”

  Krause took a deep breath. “No, but I wouldn’t shed any tears if he went down for it,” he said flatly. Jane looked at him suspiciously. “That son of a bitch threatened Cassidy. Raised a hand to her…once.”

  “How do you know that?” Jane asked.

  “It’s why she went to France,” he said.

  “She told you?” Jane gasped slightly. “You don’t think he ever hit her again…I mean…”

  “No. She got away from him the first time. I promise you he never did it again.”

  “You threatened him, didn’t you?” Jane asked. His lack of response was the only answer she required. “Is it possible?” she wondered aloud.

  Krause considered his response for a moment. “I think someone leveraged the situation. O’Brien’s been moving money, outside of Collaborative directives. He opened accounts in her name. That’s what finally drove her into the FBI. That and his continued philandering…but, from what Fallon told me…well, he’d left his mark on her more than once. He might not have been the one to strangle her Jane, but he certainly killed her.”

  Cassidy entered the room with Alex close behind just as Krause finished his explanation. She closed her eyes to steady herself. “All right. What do you and Alex need to do?” she asked Krause. He looked at her in confusion. “Do you need to leave?” Cassidy asked pointedly.

  “No,” he answered. “I didn’t want you to turn on the television expecting a New Year’s celebration or cartoons and see the congressman in handcuffs, or details about Cheryl,” he explained.

  Cassidy nodded and squeezed Alex’s hand. “Then let’s put this aside for the rest of the evening,” she said firmly. Krause nodded and took Jane’s hand to lead her from the room. Alex felt Cassidy’s sharp intake of breath as they left.

  “Cass, I know that you are upset….”

  Cassidy turned to face Alex. She looked steadily into her wife’s eyes and nodded her agreement. “I am upset. Not for him,” she said pointedly. “Too many people have paid the price for his mistakes. This…this is the happiest New Year of my life, Alex. We are in our home with our family and friends. Our son is happier than I have ever seen him, and I am having a baby with the person I love more than anyone in this world. I will be damned if that asshole is going to spoil anything else for me. I may not be able to withstand or avoid garlic, but Christopher O’Brien is not getting one ounce of my time or energy for the rest of this evening.” Alex quirke
d a playful smile at Cassidy’s candid diatribe. “What?” Cassidy asked, unable to hide the growing smirk on her face.

  “Tu es belle (You are beautiful),” Alex complimented.

  “French?” Cassidy asked. She offered her wife a cockeyed grin. It had been a while since Alex had spoken French to her unprompted. “Êtes-vous en état d’ébriété (Are you drunk)?” Cassidy arched her brow.

  “No,” Alex chuckled. “Are you sure you are okay?”

  Cassidy patted Alex’s chest in reassurance. “Yes. No more work talk. No more ex-husband talk. No more garlic,” she said as seriously as she could manage. “You, me...kissing at midnight…” Before she could finish, Alex had captured her lips in a gentle but passionate kiss. “Mmm…Not midnight yet, Agent Toles.”

  “It’s midnight somewhere,” Alex answered. She offered Cassidy her hand and turned off the light in the family room.

  “You know, there are a lot of time zones, Alex,” Cassidy observed.

  “I thought you taught English, not geography,” Alex poked.

  “I am well-traveled,” Cassidy replied evenly.

  “Well then, Mrs. Toles, I eagerly await my geography lesson,” Alex countered.

  “Don’t expect to get much rest. It will be a long lesson. It’s a big world,” Cassidy whispered as they re-entered the room filled with their guests.

  “No worries,” Alex whispered back. “I was always an attentive student,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “Oh, I’m counting on it,” Cassidy winked.

  Saturday, January 3rd

  hat are you talking about?” Claire Brackett seethed.

  “There’s no movement,” Agent Anderson answered. “There is absolutely no record of any departure to or near Moscow, Claire. You’ve been duped.”

  “Eleana would never betray me,” Claire defended her lover.

  “Maybe you are too close to see things for what they are,” her partner suggested.

  “No. You should keep your mouth shut about things you have no knowledge of.”

  Anderson studied his partner’s expression carefully. “Fine. You are that certain you can trust this woman? I’ve never seen you like this, Claire. Are you certain your feelings for this woman aren’t clouding your judgment?”

  “My what?” Brackett turned on her heel. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You’re quick to defend,” he said.

  Brackett painted an insincere smile on her face and began to circle her partner slowly, reaching out to graze his shirt seductively with her hand. “You are so perceptive, Marcus. That must be why he chose you. What? To find my weakness?” she cooed in his ear. “You think that Eleana is my weakness,” she continued. “No. No. Marcus,” she pressed herself up against him and nipped his ear. He stood resolute, his posture straight and unwavering. “Ohhhh….so strong,” she teased him. She moved to turn and swiftly pivoted, lifting her knee to his chest and driving him backward forcefully into the wall. She heard the sound of the breath involuntarily escaping his lungs and smiled with satisfaction at her small victory. “You listen. Listen now, no speaking,” she laughed, knowing he could not muster speech at the moment. “Eleana is not my weakness. She, she is my strength. You think…everyone thinks they know who Eleana is, who I am; who we are not. They think they know where we will move, how we will move,” she shook her head and leaned back into him. “Someone is playing a game, Marcus, and you just got moved across the board….so did I. Time to turn the table,” she asserted. She pounded his chest with the palms of her hands and turned away. “No more waiting for someone else’s move,” she said. “Checkmate…time is up.”

  Tuesday, January 6th

  “I thought this was taken care of!”

  Assistant FBI Director Joshua Tate flinched at the thunderous echo in his ear. He had taken great caution and accepted even greater risk in entering this building while the men in the room below him were here. This obscure warehouse served as inter-agency headquarters. It served as a window into a world that he had grown to view as soulless in its motivations. Loyalty, dedication, service, duty, a calling; these were the catch phrases of those appointed to recruit men and women into this ‘noble’ life. They were no better than two-bit, used car salesmen in his opinion. He had left a life protecting his community for the opportunity to serve an even greater purpose. Now, he understood. Purpose was questionable. Loyalty was flexible. Duty was mainly evident in the service to one’s ascent up the ladder; a ladder that had little to do with any noble cause and everything to do with power. He sighed in disappointment as he listened to the continuing conversation.

  “It’s only a temporary setback. Relax,” another man’s voice responded.

  “Of course, it is,” the older man answered. “Like what? First you screw up O’Brien’s accident…he should have been removed from this long ago!”

  “I did not arrange that. Claire….”

  “I know who arranged it. Claire did what she was told. I want to know why he survived. That’s what I want to know, Agent Brady. Why did he survive? You have a record of failure. A serious record of failure. Jesus Christ! Thank God Agent Krause found his way to Mrs. O’Brien’s that day. Otherwise, we’d probably still be dealing with Carl Fisher and one mightily pissed off Agent Toles. I want to know….How the hell did John survive that shot as long as he did? Were my instructions not clear enough for you?”

  Agent Brady felt his blood pressure rising steadily. “He moved.”

  “He moved? Fabulous. That movement bought him time. If I hadn’t intervened afterward it might have bought him a second chance. Now we have O’Brien shifting funds. I want him gone. Gone; out of the picture. I don’t need him firing up Alex and Krause. Christ only knows where Callier and the admiral fall in all of this. I want O’Brien out of the way; permanently.”

  “He’ll go down. Investigations take time,” Brady said flatly. “You know that.”

  “Fix it. I don’t care how you fix it. Just fix it now. Dimitri has made new plans. I want him out of commission before that. No more mistakes, Stephen,” the voice warned.

  Tate turned off the recorder and threw his head back in disbelief. “Christ, John. You were right. All along, you were right. He was at every turn,” Tate sighed. He swallowed hard and placed what he knew would be the most difficult call of his life. “We need to meet,” he said. “No. I will come to you…..No, this is something you both need to hear…..Fine….No. We keep Agent Fallon on Claire. She’s still the wildcard…..I’ll see you soon,” he said. Tate ran his hand over his head repeatedly. He would need to wait and ensure his targets had left the premises before making his presence known. “Now what?” he muttered.

  Thursday, January 8th

  “Dylan?” Cassidy called out. Dylan had been begging to go outside since he woke up. It was the first heavy snowfall of the winter, and that meant no school. Cassidy had cajoled her son into a quiet morning with the promise that they would get outside before lunchtime. “Hey…I thought you wanted to go outside in the snow?” Cassidy asked as she entered the family room.

  Dylan was sitting completely still, staring at the television. Cassidy followed her son’s gaze and her heart stopped. She grabbed the remote, clicked the off button and placed herself squarely in front of her son. “Dylan,” she called to him softly. Dylan’s eyes moved in a painfully slow motion to meet his mother’s gaze. The fear behind his expression was unmistakable, and Cassidy immediately grasped both his arms in comforting reassurance. “Dylan, sweetheart…look at me; okay?” He complied, his lip noticeably quivering. “I’m sorry you had to see that, sweetheart.”

  “He hurt her,” was Dylan’s hushed response.

  Cassidy bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes momentarily before placing her hands on either side of Dylan’s small face and looking directly into his eyes. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

  “He did,” Dylan repeated. “Why did he?” he asked as his tears began to surface.

  Cassidy moved beside h
im and pulled him into her lap. “Oh, Dylan. I don’t know why people hurt one another. I wish I could tell you. I don’t have that answer.”

  “She died,” Dylan whispered.

  Cassidy fought the urge to be sick. She could feel the pain pouring off of Dylan in waves. She and Alex had tried to prepare Dylan for the news he might see. As she sat holding him now, she realized there was no way to prepare him for the images he would inevitably confront. No matter what had come to pass, he had spent seven years calling the man he just saw in handcuffs ‘Daddy’. How could anyone explain to a seven-year-old the depths of ugliness that a human heart can hold? She rocked him gently for a moment, occasionally kissing his head and stroking his hair. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said. “I love you so much, Dylan.”

  “Mom?” he asked.

  “Yes, sweetie?”

  “I hate him,” Dylan said harshly.

  Cassidy sighed. “Dylan….”

  “I do!” Dylan yelled as his tears erupted. “He’s bad….he’s a bad,” Dylan’s outburst turned rapidly to hysterical crying and Cassidy was helpless to do anything but hold him and rock him.

  “Goddamn you,” she silently thought. “How could you put him through this?” She felt Dylan shaking and held him tight. “Alex,” was the only word that Cassidy could make out through Dylan’s tears.

  Cassidy kissed his forehead. “All right, sweetheart. Try and calm down; okay? I promise you are safe. It’s all right, Dylan. Alex and I will never let anyone hurt you,” she gently assured him. She scolded herself for the words as they escaped her. There were many ways to cause someone pain. Christopher O’Brien had caused more than his fair share of pain in their family. “Listen,” she pulled away slightly and directed him to look at her. “Everything will be okay. When Alex comes home tonight, we will all sit down and talk about this.” Dylan nodded and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Let’s get you washed up and then we’ll try to call Alex; all right?” He nodded again. “Okay. Do you want me to come with you to the bathroom?” Dylan shook his head ‘no’ and Cassidy offered him a sad smile. “Still want to play in the snow with me?” she asked hopefully. She smiled when he wrapped his arms around her neck. “Good. Now, come on. You go on ahead, and I will call Alex. After some time in the snow I’ll make us some cocoa and we’ll warm up with some Batman,” she winked.