“What is it you want, Claire?”
“You help me with some creative financing, and I will ensure your needs are met,” she promised.
“My life is here,” he said. “My career, my family…”
“Your career is over. If you are referring to the lovely school teacher, I think you’ve missed the memo. You’re a bigger fool than I thought if you think that’s your family. Your life here is over, Congressman. Your future is a little cell in a big box. Although, you might find new found popularity there,” she laughed.
“You want me to run?” he asked.
Claire Brackett shrugged. “Everyone is running, Congressman. It’s a matter of what they are running from and where they are running to.”
Christopher O’Brien sat in the chair across from his unexpected guest and dropped his face into his hands. He had spent the last two days desperately seeking a bargaining chip. He had devised a multitude of stories and scenarios, but when he stopped to review them every one seemed fruitless. The fact was, his career was over. He would never be able to rebuild any trust with the electorate. Cassidy was gone. She had made that clear. Dylan wanted nothing to do with him. In his mind, he could trace the death spiral of the life he once knew to the day that Agent Alex Toles walked into their lives. He took a deep breath and released it audibly.
“One condition,” he said to the woman before him.
Claire Brackett did nothing to conceal her amusement. “You are hardly in a position to make demands,” she told him. “But, I’m listening.”
“You take out Toles in the process,” he said.
Claire laughed. “Take out Alex?” she shook her head. “You are pathetic. I’ll see what I can do,” she winked.
“When?” he asked.
“Not even curious where?” she questioned him. O’Brien remained silent. “Just be ready. The less you know, the better for us both,” she told him. “Now…about that wine…”
Wednesday, January 21st
“I don’t want to go,” Dylan complained.
“Why don’t you want to go to school?” Cassidy asked. Dylan scowled and shrugged. “Dylan?”
“Everybody knows,” he said. “I’m Dylan the villain,” he mumbled.
“What?” Cassidy asked gently as she made her way to him.
“I don’t want to be an O’Brien. Everybody thinks I’m like him,” Dylan said flatly.
Realization dawned on Cassidy. It was not surprising that Dylan was combatting teasing at school. The newspapers and television were smattered with stories about Congressman Christopher O’Brien’s downfall. It was a hot story. Cassidy and Christopher O’Brien were once considered on the short list of couples that would likely claim the White House. While her ex-husband’s popularity had been flung into the sewer, Cassidy’s was soaring. She was becoming more and more America’s darling with each moment that passed. The public had always had an affinity for the attractive, easy going school teacher, and she was being hailed now as the only reason Christopher O’Brien ever made it to the center stage. There was plenty of talk surrounding Cassidy’s marriage to Alex, but the press still insisted on calling her Mrs. O’Brien. She understood Dylan’s frustration. Try as she might, the name just seemed to stick.
“Dylan, honey, I’m sorry. You love school. Don’t let anyone spoil that for you,” she encouraged him.
“Mom, everybody knows! You don’t understand!” he cried in frustration.
Cassidy sighed. “I do understand,” she said as she squatted to meet his eyes. “You tell them you are not an O’Brien, you’re a Toles.”
“But, I’m not a Toles,” he said sadly. “When they call attendance I am in the O’s. Dylan O’Brien.”
Cassidy considered his dilemma carefully. Moments like these she wished for Alex’s presence. When it came to issues about Dylan’s place in the family, a unified front always seemed the most effective. There was more to this than Dylan’s last name; she could feel it. “No matter when they call your name, Dylan, I promise you are as much a Toles as I am.”
Dylan shook his head. “No, I’m not,” he whispered.
“All right,” Cassidy sat Dylan in a chair and knelt beside him. “What is this about?” Dylan shrugged again. “Dylan?”
“You’ll all have the same name,” Dylan said. “I’ll still be Dylan the villain. My brother will be like Alex. Alex is a hero and everybody thinks I’m a bad guy.”
“I see,” Cassidy answered. “Dylan, do you think because you don’t have Alex’s name that means you aren’t a Toles?” When Dylan didn’t answer, Cassidy continued. “You know, I remember when I was your age. I wanted to be a Mackenzie.” Dylan looked up to his mother curiously. “Yeah…my Nana was my best friend in the whole world. She was a Mackenzie, just like Grandma. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters, and all my cousins were Mackenzies. I hated it. I always felt left out.” Cassidy watched as Dylan studied her. “One Sunday I came in the house crying. My cousins had been picking on me. Nana said that no matter what anyone called me I was still a Mackenzie just as much as anyone else. I didn’t believe her though,” Cassidy admitted.
“Because you were an O’Brien?” he asked.
“No Dylan, I was a McCollum. When I married your…well, when I got married I became an O’Brien. And, when I married Alex I decided to become a Toles.”
“But, I can’t be,” he said.
“Dylan, most people still call me Cassidy O’Brien. That’s just how they know me. And, that’s just how they know you, but we are both part of Alex’s family now,” she tried to explain.
“I’ll be the only one and then Alex will love him more.”
Cassidy took hold of both of Dylan’s shoulders and looked squarely in his eyes. “Dylan James, you listen…there could never be any baby or any person who Alex could love more than you. Never. If I could change your name today I would, and so would Alex. Don’t you ever think because you were born an O’Brien that it means you are any less a part of this family.” He shook his head. “Do you think I am less than your mom because my last name is now Toles?” she asked.
“No,” he replied.
“Okay. Do you think Grandma is less a part of this family because she is a McCollum?” Cassidy asked. Dylan shook his head. “Um. I see. So your brother or sister will be a Toles. That’s true. You have the same parents. You have the same YaYa and cousins and Grandma. Names change in families all the time, sweetheart. It doesn’t change who we are to each other. You are Dylan. You are part of all of those people who love you, and even who loved me and Alex. So, you are a Toles, a Pappas, a McCollum, a Burns, and even a Mackenzie; just as much as you could ever be an O’Brien. And, when you get older you can change your name to anything you want. It won’t change who you are, though. And, it won’t change how much we love you.”
Dylan considered his mother’s words for a few minutes before looking back up to her. “They won’t believe me. That I am a Toles,” he said.
“Well, you let me handle that,” Cassidy winked at him. “Now, come on, let’s get your jacket on and get you ready, Mr. Toles.”
Dylan gave a faint smile. “Sounds weird,” he said. Cassidy chuckled as she zipped his jacket. “Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you still wish you were a Mackenzie?” he asked.
“I am a Mackenzie. Ask Grandma,” Cassidy laughed. “Every day I look in the mirror I see a little bit more of my Nana looking back,” Cassidy giggled.
Dylan was a bit puzzled by his mother’s response as they walked toward the door. Whenever his mother spoke of her grandmother, she always seemed to smile. Cassidy told him many stories about her adventures with her Nana and how she wished Dylan could have known her. Dylan loved to look at pictures with Cassidy and listen to her tales. He never thought about being anything but an O’Brien until he met Alex. It was just who he was. Now it just didn’t fit. He didn’t even look like his father. In fact, he had heard his Grandma say many times that he looked a lot like her mother,
Nana Mackenzie. It gave him an idea. “Mom,” he said as he tugged at her coat.
“Yeah?”
“You should call him Mackenzie,” Dylan said. Cassidy titled her head in confusion. “My brother,” he said a bit exasperated by her lack of understanding. “If he’s Mackenzie he can be part of all of us.”
Cassidy kissed Dylan’s forehead. “That’s an interesting idea, Dylan. We have a while to think about that,” she reminded him.
Dylan walked ahead of his mother to the car and gave her his usual shrug. “I would,” he said.
Cassidy buckled Dylan in and closed the car door. “Well, Alex,” she muttered. “I wonder what you would think of a Scottish Greek,” she giggled. “He certainly has a point.”
Thursday, January 22nd
“You sure this is the place?” Alex asked doubtfully. Alex was curious about the surroundings. The last communication that Krause had received indicated that Eleana had found refuge with some friends in Tver. She and Krause were to pose as professors. It made sense as they came upon the campus. “I guess we’re too old to pass for students, huh?” she asked her friend.
Jonathan Krause agreed. “You’re younger than me,” he observed.
“Yeah, by what, like ten months?” Alex laughed. “How’s your Russian, professor?” she asked.
“Sprosite Ijana, ya dumaju chto moj Russkij bolee krasnorechivij chem moj Anglijskij (I think if you were to ask Ian, my Russian is far more eloquent than my English),” Krause attempted to keep the mood light.
“Vozmozno on prav. Ya noniatija ne imeu o chem ti govorish v bolshinstve sluchayev (He might have a point. I don’t know what you are talking about half the time),” Alex cracked back.
“Funny, professor,” Krause said as he pulled the car along a row of buildings. “This is the easy part.”
“Let’s hope so,” Alex said.
Krause led Alex along the cement walkway toward a building that housed computer labs. Alex was cautious of everyone, particularly someone she had never met. She made certain that her partner knew she intended to keep her eyes and ears open with Eleana Baros. Krause had spent hours on their drive reassuring her that Eleana could be trusted. Alex’s constant reply was, “I hope so.”
Krause looked up to the writing on the front of one of the brick buildings. “This is it. Look for room 402. All this Cyrillic is making me dizzy,” he said.
The pair traversed a narrow hallway, displaying identification they hoped would pass muster. Krause, Alex had learned, had honed some unusual skills over the years. She was impressed with the credentials he had been able to create with modest resources. The real test would be their ability to act and speak with ease. That was a reality she understood, and the first test appeared to be about three feet in front of them.
“Mogu li ya vam pomoch’? (Can I help you)?” the security guard asked casually.
“Dobroye utro. Da, u nas yest’ vstrecha s doktorom Sokol (Good morning. Yes, we have an appointment with Dr. Sokol),” Krause offered he guard a glimpse of his identification.
To both agents’ great relief the man smiled and directed them to pass. Both Alex and Krause offered a nod of thanks and proceeded down the hallway. “Why do I not think it will be that easy at ASA?” Alex chuckled.
“One can hope,” Krause whispered as he opened the door to a small office. Eleana was sitting behind a large maple desk studying a computer screen and did not hear them immediately. “Eleana?” Krause called to her.
Eleana snapped to attention at the sound of Krause’s voice. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she stood to greet him. “Jonathan,” she accepted his embrace.
Krause felt the tension in her body and pulled her closer. Eleana had been in the field for several years, but he was certain that nothing she encountered could have prepared her for the carnage she witnessed a few days before. Krause had no misgivings about Eleana’s abilities or loyalty. He feared that the harsh and violent realities she had been thrust into might break her spirit. “Eleana,” he whispered in comfort.
Alex looked on in fascination. She could just barely distinguish the unsteadiness in the younger woman’s stance. It was perceptible, however. Alex was aware that the young agent was mentally working to disguise her fatigue and fear. She was equally intrigued by her partner. Over the last few months, Alex had come to understand that Jonathan Krause was a complicated man whose professional demeanor suggested his emotions barely skimmed the surface. Alex had slowly determined that Jonathan Krause embodied the meaning of the phrase ‘still waters run deep’. For a long while she had considered him an enigma. Watching him as he consoled the young woman in his embrace, Alex reflected that she had come to understand him.
“Eleana,” he said as he pulled back slightly. “This is Alex,” he made the introduction.
Alex stepped forward and offered the young woman her hand and a smile. “Agent Baros, how are you holding up?” she asked.
Eleana accepted the proffered hand gladly. “I’m all right, Agent Toles. It’s a pleasure to meet the legend. I wish the circumstances were different.”
“I realize I’m older, but I am hardly Arthurian,” Alex winked. “So, not to cut this reunion short, but what are we looking at?” Alex cut to the chase.
“Well,” Eleana began, moving back to the computer. “ASA has incredible security. They have been the leading developer of weapons technology in Eastern Europe since World War II. They deal with everything from aircraft engines to nuclear technology. The SVR refer to ASA as Krasnyy molot,” she said.
“The red hammer,” Alex winced. “That’s comforting.”
Eleana pointed to the computer screen. “If you talk to the older generation, KGB, they will tell you that Andrei Ivanov was the left hand to Joseph Stalin’s right. Viktor Ivanov has carried on that legacy,” she said. “Here,” she pointed to a building schematic on her screen. “There are several possibilities for entrance. Codes will be easier to create in the lower level security areas; obviously. But, right here…..if we enter through their avionics wing we should be able to access Ivanov’s office through these two labs and then into this corridor.”
“You have a plan for that; I assume?” Krause asked.
Eleana’s eyes brightened. “I managed to hack into one of their servers and create pass cards that should work, at least to get us through,” she handed Krause one. “I was only able to create two, which means we cannot split up three ways. The other problem is the number of access points. Going back the same way….”
“Agreed,” Krause cut her off. “An alternative exit is best.”
“Yes, but the only other feasible exit is here,” she showed them. “That means once we get into Ivanov’s lair we will have to work quickly. The communications and security area is on the other side of his office. I’ll need to update and change the codes for our exit there. It requires a separate security authorization. I can’t access that here,” Eleana explained.
Alex looked at Krause and pursed her lips. This was not going to be easy. “How much time do you think we have; total?” Alex asked.
Eleana attempted a smile. “Thirty minutes in and out.”
“Shit,” Alex groaned.
“Eleana, are you up for this?” Krause asked.
“I’m fine,” Eleana assured him.
“I don’t mean just physically. There can’t be any second guessing. Thirty minutes will pass like…”
“I’m good,” Eleana interrupted him.
“All right. So, who are we then?” he asked.
“You,” Eleana began, “Are Dr. Gregory Weisz.”
“German?” he asked. Eleana just smiled.
“And you, are Dr. Anna Karpenko,” Eleana informed Alex. “Jonathan, do us all a favor and let Agent Toles and I speak the Russian,” Eleana suggested.
“My Russian is impeccable,” he defended himself.
“Your Russian is passable,” Eleana said seriously. “You speak too perfectly.”
Alex tried not to laugh. Eleana
Baros was quickly proving to be at the very least an entertaining edition to their partnership. “How do you know my Russian is up to par?” Alex asked.
“Agent Toles, trust me, most of these men will not be worried about your Russian,” she explained.
“What?” Alex asked.
Krause snickered. “Don’t worry about it Alex. It’s a compliment,” he said. “You ready? We’ll stop tonight in Cherepovets. I have a contact there. I think some food and a good night’s rest is in order. Plus, it will give you two a little time to get acquainted before we move,” Krause said.
“Fine by me,” Alex agreed. She watched as Eleana retrieved a small bag. The younger agent’s gait was slow and tired. “Someone you need to see before we leave?” Alex asked her.
“No,” Eleana answered. “It’s best for him if we go.”
Eleana’s voice gave away a hint of sadness. Alex sensed the need to relieve the tension. “Well, then…let’s go so that Pip here can feed us and tuck us in,” she joked. Eleana regarded the interaction between her two saviors. There was a natural ease in their communication that surprised her. She was aware of Alex’s marriage to Cassidy, but the familiarity between Alex and Krause made Eleana curious.
Krause opened the door for his companions. “Beauty before age,” he winked at Alex appreciatively. “Thanks,” he whispered to his partner.
“For what?” Alex asked.
“For giving her a chance,” Krause said.
Alex nodded. “My eyes are still open,” she said.
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Friday, January 23rd
ou ready?” Jonathan Krause asked his friends.
“As I’ll ever be, Dr. Weisz,” Alex answered.
“The entrance to the avionics center is about three hundred yards ahead on our right,” Eleana told them. “Jonathan, remember....Gregory Weisz has never been to a facility in Russia. He consults from his home in Hamburg. His name will be familiar, but not his face. You reviewed what I gave you both last night?” Eleana asked.
Commitment Page 24
