Commitment (48 page)

Jane Merrow looked at Brian Fallon sympathetically. “Agent Fallon, I promise that I will explain things to you. I would prefer to do that without the…” she pointed to Fallon’s blood stained coat and person. “Well, I would prefer that we all be as comfortable as possible. You have questions. I understand. Go on,” Jane encouraged him. “Take your time.”

Fallon nodded his agreement and followed Jane’s simple directions to the bedroom at the end of the hallway. He regarded the clean clothing that had been laid out on the bed before heading into the spacious bathroom. Blood was an odor that Fallon’s stomach never tolerated well. He had learned how to mask his queasiness while on the job with years of practice. Not even his wife had discovered his secret; that his stomach eventually always made its displeasure known. Fallon discarded his soiled clothing and leaned over the toilet, retching violently. He wondered how many hours might have passed before he was able to gain the strength to reach his feet and turn on the shower. Fallon stood under the scalding flow of water, desperate to cleanse his body and mind of the last few hours. Any relief would be short lived. Fallon washed away the grime on his body, but his soul still felt putrid. He groaned softly, taking a few more moments to don an air of control before making his way back to Joshua Tate and Jane Merrow.

“Well, Agent Fallon; you look refreshed,” Jane Merrow said warmly. She directed the FBI agent to have a seat and offered him a drink.

Agent Brian Fallon had crossed paths with the former first lady several times over the last year on a personal level. He had observed the closeness that Jane Merrow shared with both Alex and Cassidy. Alex had told him that Jane worked within the agency, but Fallon had been led to believe that Jane Merrow took more of a passive role in the CIA and The Collaborative. He chanced a quick glance to Joshua Tate and saw the relaxed nature of his mentor. “I’m sorry if I seem,” Fallon began.

“Confused?” Jane finished his thought. She handed him a glass of scotch and took her seat. “You look like you could use that,” she smiled. “Listen, Agent Fallon….There are many things you don’t know. There are many things Alex does not know. The fact is….there are many things Joshua and I don’t know. When John died, he passed some things on to me. He entrusted me with them. Do you understand?” she asked.

“I think I might have an idea,” Fallon said.

“You already know that John suspected Michael Taylor of a different agenda than his administration’s for a long time. It’s why he initially wanted Alex to stay at the Pentagon rather than work directly under Michael. But, Alex…well, she is determined, and there were advantages to having her at the NSA and close to Director Taylor,” Jane explained.

“So, why encourage her to go to the FBI?” Fallon asked. “And, what does that have to do with today?”

“It has everything to do with today. There was no mistake in her assignment to Joshua at the FBI. He trusted Joshua; so do I,” Jane said. Fallon looked at Tate again. Assistant FBI Director Tate’s expression gave little away as to his thoughts. Jane Merrow watched Fallon carefully as she continued her explanation. “Michael Taylor has been a money man for years, Agent Fallon. There are very definite advantages to having a license to invade an individual’s private conversations and a corporations’ public records at your whim. Taylor leveraged that for years. The question that we still haven’t answered is on whose behalf.”

“Maybe his own,” Fallon suggested.

Tate took the opportunity to intervene. “No question that he benefited, Agent Fallon. None at all, but Michael Taylor was not always at the National Security Agency. He didn’t start there. The CIA has been watching him for years. Just like Taylor used the NSA to watch those people who might compromise his efforts…all of them,” Tate explained.

“The issue now,” Jane took over, “is who saw fit to bail you out, Agent Fallon.”

“I’ve played the voice in my head over and over. It was vaguely familiar, but we see agents, we listen to conversations every single day. I can’t place it,” Fallon said, frustrated by that reality.

“Forget the voice for now,” Jane said. She moved to sit beside him on the small love seat. “What did Taylor say?”

Fallon combed his memory of what he had thought was going to be the last moments of his life. “Taylor…he didn’t say much. Said he couldn’t have anyone knowing he was there. Told me he’d make me a hero. Oh, and he called Alex pious,” Fallon seethed in disgust.

“Did he? Interesting,” Jane said.

“Why is that interesting?” Fallon asked.

Jane ignored the agent’s question and urged him to continue. “And the other man; what did he say?”

“He said to get out; he had work to do. Then he said to tell Alex there were people looking out for her interests,” Fallon repeated the words as he remembered them.

“See? Interesting. Interesting he is worried about something that he perceives as Alex’s interests,” Jane observed.

Tate broke into the conversation deliberately. “Agent Fallon, this creates on opportunity for us.”

Fallon pondered Tate’s statement and found himself perplexed. “Opportunities?”

Jane Merrow chuckled. “There’ve been some other developments, Agent Fallon. We believe that Taylor was working with Viktor Ivanov. You are already aware that Michael Taylor orchestrated my husband’s assassination,” she inquired as a matter of assumption. Fallon nodded. “Yes. So you know that he was also complicit in the attack on the embassy in Russia.” Jane watched as Fallon conceded that knowledge as well. “What you don’t know is that Assistant Director Tate and I have come to believe that there is another partner in both affairs.”

“Who?” Fallon asked.

“The president of the united states,” Jane Merrow answered.

“Strickland?” Fallon startled slightly.

“The political propaganda is not a mistake, agent,” Jane told him. “The Russians tie us to terrorists. We call the Russians liars, and Strickland makes the claim that pro-Markov entities in Russia attacked us. He denies the United States has any ties to terrorists formally and accuses Markov’s government of failing to secure our interests in the region. And, the spin begins,” Jane said flatly.

“To what end?” Fallon asked. “And Taylor…”

“Michael Taylor is the perfect accomplice. He has access to everyone, quite literally. He was John’s friend publicly. Strickland knows that Taylor is partially responsible for putting him in The Oval Office….To what end? You can only run guns and drugs so long, Agent Fallon. That makes a few people a great deal of money. What can stimulate an entire nation’s economy, boost patriotism, and empower those already in power even more?” Jane put the questions to Fallon.

“You think they are seeding a war?” Fallon asked. “That’s what all of this is about?”

Jane Merrow shook her head. “No. There is not one war that has been waged in more than seventy years that has improved the economy of any nation. Nor has it bequeathed leaders with more power. It has done the opposite. War lines the pockets of a few players, many of whom you have become familiar with. Carecom, Technologie Applique, ASA, among others. But, no, Agent Fallon, not a war…a Cold War.”

Fallon looked to Tate and back to Jane Merrow. “And Taylor’s death? How does that create opportunities?” Fallon asked as he attempted to process what he was hearing.

“We create a different story, Agent Fallon,” Tate said.

Jane smiled at the FBI agent. “Brian,” her voice dropped to a whisper. “Get yourself together. Call your wife. You’ll be away for a few days,” she said.

“Where am I going?” Fallon asked apprehensively.

“We are going to see a friend,” Jane said as she began to make her way out of the room. “I am expected elsewhere. Get some rest,” Jane suggested. “A car will be here in the morning.”

Fallon stared blankly at Tate for a moment. “There’s more to this…”

Tate gave Fallon’s shoulder a squeeze. “There is always more. Get some rest, Agent Fallon. You are going to need it.”

Eleana Baros stood outside her car at the side of the road. From her position, she could see the rescue crews working franticly to put out a fire. Something drew her to come back to Connecticut. Something told Eleana that Claire would seek her out in their special place. Eleana hadn’t had the opportunity to decide if she was relieved or disappointed when she found her home empty. Her personal thoughts about Claire had immediately transformed into professional inquiry when she saw the empty bottle of whiskey on her counter, men’s clothes strewn throughout her bathroom, and her Jeep missing. She had just reached the garage when her phone rang. Eleana was, quite literally, frozen in place now. She heard a car pull closer, saw the faint glow of parking lights as it came to a stop, and heard the door close, but she did not move. She could not take her eyes off of the nightmare that was unfolding below her.

Jonathan Krause made his way to stand beside his friend. “What happened?” he asked.

Eleana shook her head and turned to Jonathan with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s her.”

Krause looked back toward the scene unfolding in the woods below. He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “You think that’s Claire? Eleana why would Claire be here?”

“I went home. Not Belarus; home. Here. No one knows about it, Jonathan; only me…and Claire. I thought she might be…”

Krause sighed. “How did you end up here, Eleana?”

“She wasn’t there. Whiskey bottles, men’s clothing…but not her….my Jeep was gone. I know her, Jonathan. It makes sense. I realized she had brought O’Brien there. It makes sense,” Eleana barely managed to speak the words.

“Why do you think that is Claire? Wait–you think Claire and O’Brien were in that wreck?” he asked.

Eleana took a deep breath a nodded. “It makes sense….I came…The Jeep is registered in New York to Maria Colone….I got a call…”

Krause recognized the name. Maria Colone was one of Eleana’s aliases. “They called to report the accident?”

“Yeah. Someone took the plate number. I didn’t answer; just listened. If I had answered… I don’t have any credentials to use here, Jonathan. I can’t get close enough. All I could get close enough to hear, without risk of compromising myself, was that they had one female victim thrown from the vehicle; assumed to be a passenger,” Eleana choked out the words.

Krause put his hand on her shoulders. “I’ll get down there. Where is the house, Eleana?” he asked her. “Eleana…go back to the house. I will meet you there.”

“Jonathan…”

“Maybe Claire is there,” he tried to comfort his friend. Eleana looked down at the scene below and closed her eyes. Krause noticed the quivering of the young woman’s body and pulled her to him. “It’s cold and you are in shock. Go and wait for me,” he said gently. “I don’t know who that is. It’s not Claire Brackett,” Jonathan Krause whispered.

Eleana pulled back slightly and shook her head. “It makes sense…How can you know that?” Eleana desperately wanted to believe Krause’s assessment, but logic did not support his statement.

Krause brushed Eleana’s frozen bangs off of her head and kissed her cheek. “It’s not. Claire would never settle for being O’Brien’s passenger,” he whispered as he pulled away. “She’d insist on driving.” Jonathan Krause led Eleana back to her car and turned her key in the ignition. “Go. I’ll find out. Get warmed up…”

“I’ll see what I can find there,” Eleana began.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he told her. “Now, go.” Krause shut Eleana’s door and watched her drive away. “Well, Congressman,” he mused as he started his car, “let’s see if it’s two for one day.”