by Lee Perry
Jordan thanked the volunteer physician profusely, shaking her head in amazement while she furiously pumped the man’s hand up and down in gratitude. Irving, a bespectacled, older looking man with thinning, gray hair, just smiled and looked down at their clasped hands,
“I think we’d better go wash up?” he said, and when Jordan looked down she finally noticed both their hands were sticky and covered in Cathy’s blood,
“Oh god,” Jordan winced at the sight, “I’m sorry, but thanks again!” She turned abruptly and trotted down the hallway to catch up with the paramedics who were departing with their patient. “Don!” she pointed at Alex who followed a step or two behind the gurney, “Take Miz Sparrow in the car and follow us to the hospital…” Her voice abruptly faded and Don turned to see what she was looking at. Alex Sparrow had a look on her face Jordan could not decipher; What is that? she wondered, Relief?
Alex sat quietly in a private waiting area of the emergency room and Jordan stood in the doorway, silently observing her where she sat slumped in her chair, staring at the floor. The odd mixture of fear and relief Jordan had seen in the courthouse had faded at some point, Now she just looks ragged, she mused, and thoroughly spent. She checked her watch but could no longer keep track of how much time had passed since Cathy’s collapse. She only knew it felt like the doctors had been working on her forever and she didn’t know whether to think that was a good sign or not. She turned her attention back to the doors leading from the treatment area and willed someone to come out with an update.
Alex on the other hand simply sat, feeling nothing; I should feel happy, she thought, feeling oddly numb and detached, I should feel relieved… Her thoughts drifted and she continued to stare, unblinkingly, at the floor, I should feel…
It was nearly two o’clock when Dr. Yin finally came out and asked for Miz Sparrow. Jordan gave her a small wave and pointed to Alex who had not moved all afternoon. The doctor sat on the coffee table across from her and in words loud enough for Jordan to hear, informed her that her spouse was going to recover,
“A rather large blood vessel in her neck ruptured. It’s likely ongoing stress caused a weakening of the vessel wall and it simply tore under the strain. I have closed the emergency tracheotomy… She is going to recover Miz Sparrow, but it will be imperative during her recovery that she stay as calm as possible so this doesn’t happen again and the area can heal properly.” Dr. Yin paused before adding, “Do you have any questions?” Mutely, Alex shook her head no and she nodded, patting her comfortingly on the arm, “She’s being taken upstairs to the intensive care unit now,” she turned to look meaningfully at Jordan, “so you can go up. Just use the phone in the hallway so the nurse can come out and take you in the unit, okay?”
Alex did not respond, so Jordan chimed in, “Thank you, doctor, we remember the drill.”
By the next day, Alex had recovered well enough to flash Jordan a big smile when she arrived to visit Cathy,
“Why Agent Hawkins,” she purred, “it’s like déjà vu all over again, isn’t it?”
“I…” Jordan faltered in the face of such an inappropriate remark coming from a woman who was both a grieving mother and a concerned spouse, “I can only imagine the relief you must feel…”
“Absolutely…” Alex nodded, looking resplendent in her white silk blouse and deep teal pencil skirt. “Absolutely right, Agent Hawkins...” She dropped her overcoat over the chair and brought out a small bouquet of flowers she’d been concealing behind her back and presented them to her wife who lay very still in the bed, “And how’s my sweetheart this morning?” she asked, placing the flowers on her lap and planting a small, delicate kiss on her cheek.
Cathy smiled weakly as Alex turned to sit in the chair Jordan had been sitting in then looked up at the FBI agent with one eyebrow raised in silent query.
“I’ll go grab some coffee.”Jordan hooked a thumb toward the door.
“Thank you, Agent Hawkins.” Alex replied dryly.
Jordan gave them both a smile and ducked out of the small room, quietly sliding the door shut behind her. Cathy had not been communicative this morning and Jordan was content to just sit quietly and let her rest. She had planted her recording device the night before on the underside of Cathy’s bed. The bug’s audio files had captured nothing useful during Cathy’s first stay in ICU, but Jordan fervently hoped this time Alex Sparrow would let something slip to her wife.
“Darling,” Alex asked after Jordan closed the door, “how are you feeling today?”
Cathy motioned for a pen and she quickly reached in her coat pocket and produced her notepad and pen from the day before. She handed them to her and when Cathy opened the cover, she noticed the pages she had written in the phone alcove the day before were gone. Her eyes flicked up to Alex but she only gazed at her impassively, although Cathy could have sworn the barest hint of triumph shone in her eyes.
“I believe the FBI can keep us safe.” she wrote, “We must testify. I want our daughter’s murderer caught.” She underlined the last sentence for emphasis, “If we don’t testify it will never be over for us.”
Alex read the note with a forced calm, feeling a flush of heat suffuse her neck and face as her temper flared. She gingerly took the pen from her wife’s hand and wrote back, “No. They cannot keep us safe. Not forever.”
Cathy’s heart began to race as understanding, panic and fear flooded through her. She struggled to remain calm as she held out her hand for the pen and wrote back, “Why? What did you do?”
Alex nearly blurted, NOTHING! But schooled herself into a calm she did not feel, “Nothing” she wrote, “but if you insist on giving any testimony whatsoever, either we or our only child will be killed.” She had almost handed the pad back to her then hastily added, “If you testify I will take Cameron and disappear forever.” She handed the pad back to her and watched her face as she read the last sentence.
Cathy closed her eyes briefly and leaned her head back against the pillows, trying desperately to remain calm and keep her throat from swelling shut.
Alex leaned in close and whispered softly, “Is that what you want?”
Cathy could feel her closed eyes fill with tears and she dropped a hand over them, then sniffed and swallowed carefully. When she opened them again she turned her head to look at Alex, her face a mask of devastation, and despondently shook her head no.
“Good.” Alex sat back in the chair, feeling the sweat that had been running down her back suddenly adhere to her silk blouse. She gently took the pad from Cathy’s limp hand and returned it and the pen to her coat pocket. “It’ll be alright, sweetheart,” she rose from the chair and gave her another dutiful peck on the cheek, “You’ll see, everything will calm down and we’ll go back to our lives, okay?” She smiled down at her and affectionately stroked the spot she kissed with the back of her fingers.
Jordan’s phone rang as she waited in the cafeteria; it was one of the agents guarding the ICU telling her Ms. Sparrow had left the unit. Jordan thanked her and hung up, moving to stand by the window with her coffee, watching until Alex finally emerged from the hospital lobby and made her way to the entrance of the parking garage, disappearing into its depths. She drained the last of the coffee and tossed the cup in a waste can as she left and bypassing the elevator, took the stairs, two at a time, back to the ICU. When she slipped back into Cathy’s room, she nodded to the nurse who was bending over her, checking the bandage on her throat.
“Alright, Agent Hawkins” the young woman smiled, “not too much in the way of excitement, okay?”
“Yes ma’am.” she replied obediently and sat in the chair on the far side of the tiny room, waiting for the nurse to finish her ministrations. Cathy looked drained and barely took notice of her.
“It’s okay, Cathy,” the nurse reassured her, “it’ll get better and easier as you go along.”
Cathy barely nodded in response, a single tear escaped her eye and ran smoothly into her ear and she wiped it away. The nurse
gave her a final pat on the hand and finally withdrew, leaving Cathy and Jordan alone. Cathy closed her eyes and Jordan watched her for several minutes before she opened them again and raised her hands,
“I cannot testify to the grand jury...” she signed, “I had nothing useful to testify to anyway.” Her hands hung helplessly in the air for a moment before she dropped them onto the bed at her sides.
Jordan’s brow furrowed, “You know that’s not true, Cathy…” she ventured gently, “Tell me why Alex doesn’t want you to testify.”
She closed her eyes, putting a hand over them.
“Tell me what she said to you in the phone booth yesterday.”
Cathy pulled her hand from her eyes, her fear was palpable as she rapidly signed, “She says the FBI cannot keep us safe from Rossi. She says they will kill us, or maybe Cameron next time.” She quickly clamped both hands over her eyes again and Jordan could see the effort it took for her to maintain her composure. She took a few steadying breaths and continued, “Alex is involved with these people, but I don’t know how. She denies any knowledge or involvement of any kind. But even if I do as she says and don’t testify…” Her hands stilled in midair for a second, “won’t we be living in fear of them coming back to kill us for the rest of our lives?” Her hands dropped back to the bed and she looked at her imploringly.
Jordan sighed audibly, “If the Rossi outfit has been trying to recruit or otherwise induce her into working for them, then no…” She shook her head, “it wouldn’t go on forever, Cathy, because at some point they are going to take you all underground, into their fold, and you’ll be given the choice to either work for them or be eliminated.”
She had spoken softly but her words still carried the blunt force of a physical blow and Cathy made a soft noise that probably would have passed for a groan had it not come from someone with damaged vocal cords.
Jordan waited a few beats then added, “This kind of thing is not uncommon with these people, and given the growing surge of criminal activity utilizing the Internet, I wouldn’t be surprised if that is what’s happening here, but Cathy…” She got up and crossed the room to sit in the chair next to her bed, “While I have no proof that is what’s going on here, it is my duty to tell you that it is the only logical conclusion any of us can come to. But…” She paused for emphasis so she would look at her, “But I think it’s time you considered another option; I agree that this situation has progressed to a point where your life as you once knew it is over, but there is another course of action we can pursue.” She saw something resembling hope flicker in the red-rimmed eyes. “We can place you, your son and Alex in the Witness Protection Program and….”
Cathy exhaled raggedly in exasperation and turned her head away, “Alex will never agree. Never!” her signs were abrupt and curt, “I know her, she thinks we can just go back to our lives and continue with the business and live happily ever after. She will never agree to a life like that, never.”
Jordan sat quietly for several seconds, “I think you’re right…” she agreed and sighed noisily. “So what if only you and Cameron go?”
Cathy regarded her for a long moment then stared down at her hands. Jordan waited quietly and finally, placing her fingertips against the center of her chest, she rotated her wrists, gesturing to Jordan, palms up, “How?”
New York, NY
Jordan strode rapidly through the corridors; she had more preparations to make but she needed to connect one last time with her boss before she set the whole works into motion. She turned the last corner, breaking into a trot as she neared Assistant Director Stewart MacLaine’s office. She swung into the foyer, “Can I go in?” she breathlessly asked the secretary as she entered his office.
The woman behind the desk gave Jordan a humorless glance as she disappeared into his office, “Yes, I guess you can…” she muttered drolly.
Stewart looked to be in his late forties and had a lean, athletic build like a runner or swimmer. He was shorter than Jordan’s slender 5’8” frame by an inch or two, but he still carried himself with confident ease, “Hey,” he looked up from his desk and waved his hands in irritation, “do you think you could possibly forward this case without turning the entire department upside-friggin-down?”
“Everything just happened so quickly…” she shrugged, “and if you’ll recall, I have sought your approval and guidance throughout this entire process...”
“Yeah,” Stewart waved at her to sit then leaned his elbows on the desk, “who knew so much could be accomplished via email?”
Jordan snorted, “These crime families are seeing to it that these cases are getting harder and more complicated to resolve and prosecute as it is…” She sighed heavily, “I really don’t see how we have any other choice at this point, do you?”
“No,” Stewart replied, “not anymore. So give me the lowdown; from here on out how’s it gonna go?”
Jordan handed him a copy of the itinerary, “First, Doctor Sparrow is scheduled to go home tomorrow and her wife is due to pick her up at ten o’clock to take her home. When she arrives at the hospital, the ICU staff will notify her that Cathy has had another episode with a rupture in her throat and has been rushed to surgery. She will be escorted to the surgical floor where she will meet up with me and the other agents. Our doctor will come out, introduce himself as having been on-call when Cathy has her emergency, and explain to Alex that there were complications and that her wife has died on the operating table.”
“Does our doctor have explicit details in case she asks?”
“Yeah, he’s ready, the clinical explanation will involve heart failure due to sudden and extreme exsanguination… her heart stops and they can’t restart it after working on her for an hour.”
“Okay.”
“John down in Covert has just finished the stand-in body for Doctor Sparrow, and although he gave me a royal ration of shit for not giving him enough notice in the first place…” She grinned when Stewart smiled, “I’m telling you that thing down there is so…” Jordan hesitated for a moment, “I was going to say so life-like, but it isn’t. It looks just like I would expect Doctor Sparrow to look if she was dead.” She stopped in her recitation to fumble through her file and pulled out the pictures John had provided her and handed them to Stewart who looked at them one at a time, making appreciative humming noises.
In case Alex had asked to see the body either when she was notified of the ‘tragedy’ or wanted a last viewing at what would be Cathy’s funeral, they needed a passable mannequin since Jordan had no intention of asking Cathy to either lie on an funeral home table or inside a coffin and pretend to be dead. John Mackie in the Covert Division was considered a genius at creating disguises that would fool even the savviest person. Originally hired as a part of the secretary pool at Quantico, he was quickly recruited for his artistic gifts when he was caught counterfeiting a parking permit that would net him a spot closer to the main building. Having devoted more than thirty years of his life to the Bureau, John had first become a master at creating fake documents, then he moved on to sculpture, and after taking some courses on latex and its chemical composition he eventually mastered the art of creating fantastic disguises and from there; frighteningly believable mannequins. In this case, he had flown to New York and snuck into the hospital to take photos of and make a hasty life-cast of Cathy’s face. He made the cast in a CAT scan room Cathy had been brought to on the pretense of having to go for some tests. From the mask he created a replica of Cathy Sparrow that looked just like her; her exact dimensions, deathly pallor for skin color, hair and eye color, although the eyes would be left closed. He even faithfully recreated her throat injury and sutures that would still be covered in gauze. John Mackie was nothing if not a stickler for perfection.
As Jordan and Stewart conferred, John was downstairs preparing the body for transport to the hospital. John would stay with the ‘body’ right up through the funeral, staying in the shadows until he was called upon to act as the mortician
responsible for the final appearance of the late Cathy Sparrow in her coffin. Jordan’s mouth had dropped open in shock when he pulled back the sheet from the Cathy Sparrow facsimile; the room had tilted at a sickening angle and Jordan had to look away while she complimented him on such a disturbingly uncanny resemblance. John had merely shrugged, thanking her and saying it was too bad the only way he had to know if he had done a good job was by how upset his work made people. Jordan agreed, opting not to look again at the pictures and she had subsequently decided in the elevator, on her way to Stewart’s office, that she never wanted to look at the fake-dead Cathy Sparrow ever again.
“He does beautiful work, doesn’t he?” Stewart commented, handing the photos back to Jordan.
“Yes…” Jordan agreed and hurriedly slipped the photos in the back of the file. “After we have buried the fake Cathy Sparrow, Alex Sparrow will be held on an obstruction of justice charge in the murder of her daughter and shooting of her wife that will now be considered a murder, and at that time we will separate her from her son. While she is being processed, we’ll tell her he has been taken into protective custody. At that point we’ll reunite Cameron with Cathy in one of our safe houses in the city and I will then accompany them both to the safe house provided to us by the marshal’s service.”
“House my ass,” Stewart exclaimed, “Really Jordan, does it have to be there?” He frowned, “I mean, for chrissakes…”
