Alex And Cassidy: Betrayal Part 8

"No."

Ca.s.sidy sighed. "The point is that I understand why you feel that way. I think you are a wonderful parent, Alex. Dylan adores you. I still am a little confused though, about..."

Alex smiled. "Seeing my parents, taking you there...it's just, well, all these things that...I...I need to do that before I can think about all of these things I can't stop thinking about."

Ca.s.sidy couldn't help but laugh. One of the most endearing things about this wonderfully strong woman that she loved was how Alex's confident demeanor could turn to an almost incoherent diatribe when she got nervous. "Alex, what exactly are you talking about?"

The agent took a deep breath and let it out with some force. "I'm saying," she stopped and repeated the same action. "I am saying that I want to have a family with you, Ca.s.sidy."

The teacher swallowed hard and put her hands on the agent's cheeks. "I want that too."

"It scares me."

"I know," Ca.s.sidy said. "It's not like it has to happen tomorrow, Alex."

"You might change your mind after next weekend."

The teacher pursed her lips and then kissed the agent's cheek. "You have endured my mother almost daily and you still want to have a family with me?"

"I love your mother."

Ca.s.sidy's snickered. "Uh-huh. So do I, but she can definitely be..."

"A handful?" Alex joked.

"To put it mildly," Ca.s.sidy agreed. "I didn't fall in love with your family, Alex. I fell in love with you, though I do love Nick and Barb and so does my mother. Stop worrying."

"You know, I was watching Dylan today in that c.o.c.kpit," Alex began. "And, I wished I could have seen him when he was a baby. It was strange. I just...I felt like he was..."

"Yours?" Ca.s.sidy raised an eyebrow. Alex nodded. "Well, I think he feels the same way." Alex smiled and Ca.s.sidy laid her head in the agent's lap, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath. "Alex, I wouldn't want to raise him with anyone else." Ca.s.sidy felt soft lips brush against her own. "This was what you wanted to tell me?"

"Well..." Alex chuckled.

"Hum. Can I ask you something?"

"What?" the agent asked.

"What made you start thinking about this?"

"I don't know, everything. I mean, when I was working at the house, painting Dylan's room, I kept thinking about it. But, well," Alex hesitated.

"Go on," Ca.s.sidy said enjoying the feel of Alex's hand running through her hair.

"When I came home the other day? After Jane called?"

"Yeah?"

"You handed me those papers; remember?" Alex asked.

Ca.s.sidy chuckled. "The school forms?" she asked with surprise.

"Yeah." Ca.s.sidy smiled and opened her eyes. "What?" Alex asked. "Ever since then, I don't know, I just keep thinking about us...about you. And I want to..."

"I understand," Ca.s.sidy said.

"All this craziness that's been happening. My job will always be crazy. I want to do the boring stuff, Ca.s.sidy."

"Well good. You can start with the bathroom sink next to Dylan's room when we get home."

"What?" the agent asked.

"Yeah, I think he might have shoved something in it."

Alex started laughing. "Always looking out for me; aren't you Ca.s.s?"

Ca.s.sidy smiled and closed her eyes again. "Oh, and he wants to play soccer. That boy two houses down...Jason? Yeah, he's convinced Dylan that is the coolest thing. Sign-ups are Wednesday and Thursday at the school. So feel free to wait in that line."

"Okay," Alex said without any hesitation.

"Yeah? Good," Ca.s.sidy smirked. "Because on Friday we need to go meet with his new teacher." She opened her eyes slightly to see Alex's mouth open a little wider and then shut again. Ca.s.sidy flashed a bright smile. "Still think you want to have more?"

"Are you trying to scare me?"

"No. You wanted boring."

"Ca.s.sidy, life with you is anything but boring," Alex laughed.

"Wait for doctor's appointments and waiting rooms and..." the teacher's list was interrupted by a kiss.

"I look forward to it."

"I love you, Alex, but trust me I think you underestimate the craziness in the boring," Ca.s.sidy said.

"Maybe. I'm good at mult.i.tasking."

"Must be the butler in you," Ca.s.sidy poked.

"Yeah, must be." Alex leaned over and kissed the woman on her lap. "Thank you." Ca.s.sidy looked inquisitively into the blue eyes above her. "I don't know if I could have gotten through today without you," Alex confessed.

"Well, I could say the same thing." Ca.s.sidy shook her head slightly. "I'm sorry, Alex, about John. I know that you loved him."

"I just wish I knew what he was trying to tell me."

"Well, you'll figure it out," Ca.s.sidy said with confidence.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know you, Alex. You will. Just promise me you will be careful," Ca.s.sidy said, the fear in her voice unmistakable. "I don't want to lose you when I just found you."

"You worried about who will fix the sink?" Alex tried to lighten the teacher's mood.

"It's not funny, Alex." Ca.s.sidy's mood was darkening.

"Hey, I'm good at what I do. I promise. Trust me," Alex said.

"It's not you I don't trust," Ca.s.sidy admitted.

"What did I just tell you?" Alex reminded the teacher. "You trust me?" Ca.s.sidy nodded. "Then trust me when I tell you the biggest lion's den you will see me enter will be next weekend in Ma.s.sachusetts." Ca.s.sidy shook her head and closed her eyes again. "Maybe I should take you upstairs. You look tired, Ca.s.s."

"No." Ca.s.sidy snuggled against the agent. "Let's just stay here for now." Alex smiled her silent understanding. "Alex, what did Amba.s.sador Matthews say to you in Russian?"

"He said you were more charming and beautiful in person," Alex explained. "As usual, he was right."

"Je t'aime," Ca.s.sidy whispered.

"J'espere que tu te sentiras de cette faon quand je ne pourrai pas faire fonctionner l'evier (I hope you feel that way when I can't fix the sink)." Ca.s.sidy had drifted off into sleep and Alex smiled as she tenderly tucked the woman's long blonde hair behind her ears. Her conversation with the Russian Amba.s.sador was invading her thoughts. Something did not feel right. She had been in and around the intelligence community long enough to know a few important things. It is not easy to a.s.sa.s.sinate a president. In fact, it is nearly impossible. Random acts of violence were seldom random at all and there were powerful interests involved in the smallest political decisions. Ca.s.sidy had a right to be concerned. Alex knew it. She had a family now. It was ironic that suddenly, as she approached what she suspected would be the most dangerous investigation of her career, she had other people to consider. The agent had two burning needs and they stood at desperate odds with one another; to understand what John Merrow was telling her, how it connected to Carl Fisher and Christopher O'Brien, and to build a life with the woman in her arms. Alex kissed Ca.s.sidy's forehead. "Je vais garder notre famille en toute securite, Ca.s.sidy. Je te le promets (I will keep our family safe, Ca.s.sidy. I promise)," she whispered.

"I know you will," a voice mumbled. "Just remember you are part of that family," Ca.s.sidy said softly.

"I will."

hat are you thinking, Strickland?" Admiral Brackett bellowed.

The new president sat behind his large picturesque desk and calmly smiled. Lawrence Strickland was the consummate politician. He had made his life and his career a success by consistently developing his ability to read people and he was practiced in the art of remaining cool under scrutiny. In President Strickland's world he was no elected official, no appointed commander, no entrusted leader; he was king. This was his dominion and everyone was now his subject. Not even the stately presence of Admiral William Brackett could intimidate him. He had waited a lifetime to sit on this throne and he intended to make that known. Deliberately but casually he leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Admiral, you were a naval commander for many years." The admiral watched the shorter man as he continued, still leaning comfortably back in his chair. "How many captains on a s.h.i.+p, Admiral?"

"One."

"Yes, I know. This is my s.h.i.+p. You may be a chief; you are not Captain here," Strickland said.

If the new president had hoped his show of outright c.o.c.kiness would somehow rattle William Brackett, he had been drastically mistaken in his a.s.sessment of the larger man. Admiral Brackett had spent his life in this arena, nearly all of it. He had counseled many presidents. He had orchestrated wars. The admiral shook his head at the arrogance of the president. He walked slowly toward the desk and leaned over it. His eyes narrowed into tiny pinholes as he regarded the man in the chair. "To steer a s.h.i.+p successfully one must know what waters he is navigating. A good captain has studied the history of the waters he traverses. He looks below the surface in order to predict what perils may befall him. He follows as much as he leads and his goal is to arrive safely at his destination; whatever destination has been prescribed to him." He leaned in closer and his gaze narrowed further. "An arrogant captain will sink his own s.h.i.+p, Lawrence. He fails to understand that he does not control what lies beneath the surface. A captain is only a navigator." The admiral stepped away and turned his back to the president.

President Strickland sat back up in his chair and surveyed the movement of the man across his desk. Admiral Brackett was as poised as any man he had ever seen. While the president understood the veiled warning; he was not certain where the admiral was heading now. Brackett kept his back to Lawrence Strickland in a show of disgust for the president's ignorant a.s.sertions regarding power and authority. "So you are sending Christopher O'Brien to meet with Edmond Callier? Interesting choice. A young, imprudent, smug politician to meet with an experienced, connected and cautious ally. What do you hope to gain?"

"It will deter Toles. It will deter Taylor," an a.s.sured answer came from behind the desk.

The admiral let out an uncustomary animated guffaw. "It will deter them from what? Investigating?" The admiral shook his head and paced the floor. "Toles and Taylor are captains, Strickland. In fact, they are practiced captains. They excel in studying what lies beneath the surface. You are leading them to follow O'Brien and in the process leading them straight to Edmond and France."

"There is nothing of consequence for them to find, Admiral. O'Brien will be in Paris. The exchange will occur in Corsica as planned. It will peak their interest in his dealings, remove their focus from his accident and the a.s.sa.s.sination, at least for a time. It's simply a diversion. The money will still follow its route through Prince Abadi."

"You idiot. I know all of that. I planned it. You think this is about a simple trade of weapons through the Saudis? One deal?"

"Of course not," Strickland answered. "O'Brien can be an a.s.set, William. He can also be the focus as we move ahead. He's a p.a.w.n to move across the board. Let him take the fall, even if Krause falls with him."

Brackett turned and stood straight. "1985."

"Excuse me?" the president responded.

"You are opening a much bigger can of worms than you realize, Larry. Much bigger. You forget how those TOW missiles made their way into Iran. You think there was one player? Two? Five? You think it ended there? Started there? Who do you think Edmond Callier is? How do you think money made its way to Nicaragua? Where do you think these insurgents learned their tactics?" The admiral took a few steps forward. "You leave me no choice."

"No choice in what?" the president asked.

"You've sent O'Brien to Paris. You will send him to Corsica."

"Why on earth would you want the congressman involved in the..."

"Do it. I will take care of the rest. Do not speak to Callier...."

"You presume," the president began, his anger rising quickly. "I do not answer to you. You forget who the Commander in Chief is," he a.s.serted.

"You," the admiral admonished, "have no idea what a Commander in Chief does. You sit when I tell you to sit and you stand how I tell you to stand; that is if you hope to occupy that chair for any length of time."

"Are you threatening me?" Strickland rose to his feet. "Your hands are tied. You've already killed a popular president; martyred him."

"There are many ways to sink a s.h.i.+p, Mr. President. John Merrow was worth his martyrdom. Your fate will not be so glorious. Sit. Now. Make the move."

"Alex, how are you doing?" Michael Taylor asked.

"I'm okay, Taylor. Ready to go home. Any news from the bureau?"

"On your reinstatement you mean?" Alex nodded. "No, not yet, but that never stopped us before." Alex laughed. There was a great deal of truth in her friend's statement. Intelligence work was always officially unofficial. "I've been thinking about what John said to you, about following Brackett," he said.

"Yeah, I still wonder what she is looking for at the bureau. Most of my cases have not been politically..."

"Well, she might give us some hints but I don't think that's what he meant," Taylor suggested as the two friends walked along the National Mall.

Alex looked straight ahead, keeping her pace steady. "What are you thinking?"

"I think he meant the admiral, Alex."

Alex pinched the bridge of her nose instinctively. "Still involved, you think?" She turned to see Taylor's eyes widen and his head tip to the side. "I agree," Alex offered. "But Claire is still the best trail. Maybe this isn't the time for me to move back..."

"No," he said flatly. "You are too compromised to be able to follow her trail at the FBI. But, I think we have an answer."

"What's that?" she asked as they moved closer to their destination.

"Fallon."

Alex stopped dead in her tracks and turned to Taylor. She knew Brian Fallon wanted in on the investigation and she had even considered bringing him in. That was until John Merrow was shot. This was no place for a man whose family meant everything to him. "No," was all she said.

"Not your choice, Alex," he reminded her.

"Taylor, no."

"Alex, it's done. He's in. He understands."

"Jesus Christ, Michael. Fallon has three kids. What the h.e.l.l are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking he is a good agent. He's smart and he has an una.s.suming presence. He is exactly who we need." Taylor watched Alex as she pressed her tongue against her cheek in frustration and her right thumb firmly into her temple. "He's not going to let it go. Safer if he is in than if he is out on his own," Taylor surmised.