Betrayal (23 page)

“So….It is O’Brien that is headed to France.”

Brian Fallon nodded. “It would appear so.”

“Interesting,” Taylor pondered the information. “Why would Tate know that? Brackett?”

“I think so, yes. Sir?”

“Yes, Agent?”

Fallon’s jaw tightened and he licked his lips. “He came to you.”

Michael Taylor pushed the chair away from his desk and stroked his chin as he considered his response, taking several moments to gauge the man before him. Agent Brian Fallon’s expression was unwavering. It was impossible to discern what Fallon was thinking and Taylor found himself wondering what it would be like to play poker with the generally affable agent. The director’s eyes narrowed slightly as the tension in his jaw increased. “He did.”

“Does Agent Toles know this?” Fallon asked calmly.

“No.”

Looking to the ceiling, Brian Fallon shook his head. “Sir, if Agent Toles….”

“Agent Toles is acting on information from an informant. That is what she knows. That is all she knows. Just as I do not know from whom she attained her needed credentials.”

“Why would Tate come to you?” Fallon asked with some concern. “Playing both ends against the middle? Did he tell you about O’Brien?”

The NSA director smiled genuinely. “Agent Fallon,” he paused and offered the agent a long stare. “Everyone in this game plays both ends against the middle.” Fallon remained stoic as the director measured his response. “Perhaps the assistant director expects that Alex will uncover more in New Mexico than just information on an old project. I don’t know. Perhaps he does not wish to compromise Agent Brackett. What his agenda is; I can’t say.”

“What if it is a trap?”

Taylor shrugged. “Could be.”

“You sent Toles into a potential trap without telling her that?” Fallon’s voice rose slightly.

“Agent, it is always potentially a trap. That is what we do. Agent Toles knows what she is doing. She does not need the identity of the informant distracting her from her objective.”

“So, what about O’Brien? I go to France?” Fallon asked.

“You go nowhere. Stay on Brackett and Tate.”

“Brackett is likely already in France.”

“Distinct possibility, yes,” Tate replied.

“And we just pretend that doesn’t matter? Don’t you think that could be the lead we need? At least you should tell Alex.”

“Agent Fallon, listen to me. Agent Toles did not want you brought into this mix at all. You are an intelligent and savvy investigator but this is not typical police work. Connections run deep. People make a career of assessing one another in this business. If Tate is compromising himself in any way, he will
be cautious what he gives and to whom. He’s throwing breadcrumbs. Why? I don’t know. That is not our focus…not yet, anyway. Toles needs a clear head.” The NSA director stopped and took a sip from his coffee cup. “I assume you already sent her the information.”

“I did.”

“Fine then. I am certain Alex will follow the trail to France.”

“She’s in….”

Taylor laughed. “Agent…Trust me. You stay on the trail within the bureau. I’m sure you are right; if Brackett is MIA, she went ahead. The question is why. Follow that. If she’s gone take the opportunity.”

“You want me to go into her personal life? Her private quarters; I mean?”

“There is no such thing as privacy in this business. Yes.”

“Cassidy?” Cassidy was pacing the kitchen, wiping the counter for what Rose counted as the tenth time. “You could perform surgery on that counter it is so clean,” the older woman grabbed her daughter’s hand and stopped its motion. “I’m sure Alex is fine.”

Cassidy released the towel in her hand and let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m sure she is.”

“This isn’t just about her being away; is it?”

The teacher shook her head, made her way to the small table at the far side of the kitchen, and slumped into a chair. “She was so upset before she left.” Rose followed her daughter and took a seat at the table, resting her face gently on her hand as she listened. “I thought they were nightmares about Iraq.”

“But?”

“I don’t understand, Mom. How can a parent treat their child that way?” She looked out the back door window at Dylan as he ran across the yard chasing a soccer ball.

“Are we still talking about Alex here?”

“What?” Cassidy turned her attention back to her mother.

“Uh-huh…Cassie, what is going on?”

Cassidy covered her face with her hands and shook her head. She could feel the tears beginning to sting the back of her eyes. “She thinks he hates her.”

“You mean Alex? She thinks her father hates her.”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

Rose chuckled “Cassie….parents are just people.”

“I know that,” Cassidy said, returning her gaze out the door.

“You can’t change who his father is,” Rose chimed.

Cassidy nodded and pursed her lips. A soft smile began to take shape as she watched her son raise his hands over his head triumphantly. He was quite obviously engaged in a make believe match of some kind and clearly he was the victor. Unconsciously, she shook her head, “no, I suppose I can’t.” Her mother studied the younger woman’s expression as Cassidy slowly turned toward her. “We need to talk.”

Claire Brackett smiled as she rose from the bed and made her way toward the large chair across the room, retrieving her clothes along the way. “You should visit more often,” the man behind her said.

“You think?” she answered coyly.

“
Oui, quel meilleur endroit pour apprendre sur l’amour
, (Yes, where better to learn about love)?” he asked.

“Love?” Claire Brackett laughed as she slipped her arms through her blouse and picked up the jacket on the chair. She gently reached into the deep pocket of her coat and fondled the cool plastic she felt there. A devious smile of satisfaction crept onto her face as she expertly placed her left hand in the large bag next to the chair. She flipped the long, black cylinder into her hand. “You think this is love?” she cooed.

The man in the bed stretched his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, “
Ah,qu`est-ce que l’amour? Seulement un moment commun entre deux âmes
(Ah, what is love? Only a common moment between two souls).” He sighed, a contented smile gracing his pale face.

Claire Brackett twisted the long cylinder gently. Feeling it click firmly into place; she turned slowly. “
Et l’amour, comme tous les moments tire à sa fin
(and love, like all moments come to an end).” She looked at the figure sprawled in satisfaction and raised her eyebrow. The weight in her hand was almost as seductive as the expression on his face. Her finger found its destination and carefully applied the needed pressure. “
Mieux vaut avoir aimé et perdu que ne jamais avoir aimé du tout
(Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all).”

His eyes opened slightly only to capture a brief glimpse of the figure now hovering above him. “Why?”

The redheaded agent stroked his cheek and shut his eyes. “Love is a fool’s game, Elliot. And I am no fool.” She kissed his forehead and retrieved her bag.
“Il n’y as qu’un seul coté a jouer, un seul
(There is only one side to play on. Only one),” she whispered as she closed the door behind her.

“Captain Toles.”

“Major. Thank you for taking the time,” Alex responded. There was a unique presence about Alex Toles when she donned her uniform. It was confidence. The simple truth was that Alex felt most comfortable as Captain Toles. There were still times she regretted her decision to give up her military career and join the FBI. She often wondered what made her feel so strongly about her service. It had been that way from the beginning and her time in Iraq had only served to strengthen the feeling.

“Is this for an investigation, Captain?”

Alex smiled. The Major’s demeanor immediately told her that he recognized her and not simply by the badge she was wearing. She had decided that she would be as forthright as she felt was prudent in this endeavor. “In a manner of speaking, yes, Major.”

Major Gregory Black nodded his understanding as he gestured for Alex to follow him down a long, narrow hallway. “I only met him a couple of times,” the Major said solemnly as they reached a metal door at the far end of the corridor. Alex offered him an appreciative smile. “He was a reasonable and honorable man,” the Major offered. Alex nodded as he held the door open for her. “If you need anything,” he said.

“Major?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“If you don’t mind…this visit…”

“You don’t even need to ask, Captain.” Alex smiled and watched him leave.

Rose McCollum fingered the rim of her wine glass as she regarded her daughter closely. Cassidy was uncharacteristically wringing her hands in her lap and had not raised her eyes to meet her mother’s in long minutes. “Cassie…”

“I know,” Cassidy said in a hushed voice.

“What is it that you think you know?”

A heavy sigh escaped the younger woman and she shook her head. “I can’t imagine what you must think of me.”

“Cassidy Rose McCollum,” Rose chastised playfully. Cassidy’s eyes flew open at the sound of her name through her mother’s laughter. “What I feel is some relief.”

“What?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Cassie. I can’t tell you how many times I wondered how a blockhead like Christopher O’Brien could father such a beautiful child. I just thanked God he
seemed to inherit your genes.” Rose moved from her seat to sit beside her daughter on the couch. She placed her arm around Cassidy’s shoulder as her tone softened. “Everything happens for a reason, Cassie. Everything. That little boy upstairs, there is your reason.”

Cassidy leaned her head against her mother as a few tears trickled over her cheek. “What do I do now?”

Rose smiled and brushed her daughter’s hair aside. “Do you need to do anything?”

“I don’t know.”

“Mm…. Cassie, what is it that you want to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, I think you do know,” Rose said as she firmly took hold of her daughter’s shoulders and guided her to come face to face. “Have you talked to Alex about this? Telling Chris, I mean.”

In spite of all of their close relationship, Cassidy was still amazed by her mother’s perceptiveness. “No.”