Authors: Nancy Ann Healy
Saturday, January 31
st
lex rolled over and fumbled for the phone on her bedside table. “Hello?
“Alex?”
“Pip? What the hell time is it?” Alex yawned.
Cassidy rolled closer to Alex and grumbled inaudibly. “Tell him to go away,” she whined.
Alex looked down at Cassidy, who had claimed her chest as a pillow and kissed her wife’s head. “This had better be good,” Alex said through the phone.
“It’s four in the morning and I’m not sure this qualifies as good. Eleana and I are about thirty minutes from you right now,” Krause told Alex.
Alex gently extracted herself from Cassidy’s grasp and wandered into the bathroom. “What the hell do you mean you are thirty minutes from here?”
“Alex, it’s O’Brien,” Krause said.
“Did you find him?” Alex asked anxiously. A heavy sigh came over the phone. “Pip?” Alex asked. When Krause did not immediately respond, Alex lost her patience. “Jonathan?”
“There was an accident, Alex. I wanted to get to you before anyone got up in the morning….before Cassidy sees the news,” Krause explained.
“What kind of accident?” Alex asked skeptically.
Alex’s boisterous tone had awakened Cassidy. She stumbled into the bathroom in concern. “What’s going on?” Cassidy asked, still wiping the sleep from her eyes.
“Still trying the figure that out,” Alex said softly. “Go back to bed,” Alex told her wife.
Cassidy collapsed gently into Alex and shook her head. “No,” she answered.
Alex sighed. “Okay, before my entire family is awake…. what’s going on?” Alex asked.
“Nutshell version? There was a car accident. Two victims. The passenger was thrown fifteen feet through the windshield. The driver was trapped. The car caught fire. They haven’t determined why it ignited. It sailed right over the guard rail and into the woods. Had to be going fast. There’s not much left, Alex,” Krause said.
“Jonathan,” Alex said carefully. Cassidy stepped back immediately. Alex rarely called Jonathan Krause by his first name. Cassidy’s apprehension grew as Alex continued. “Who was in the car?”
Krause took another deep breath. “The woman appears to be local, Janice Rodgers. The driver…I can’t say for certain, Alex. I can’t. They found a wallet outside the car; it’s O’Brien’s.”
Alex did not respond verbally. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples forcefully. Krause waited patiently for her reaction. “Was it him?” she asked.
“I don’t know. They’ll need to do tests…Alex, I….”
“Best guess,” Alex implored him for his opinion.
“If it isn’t him…someone is going to a lot of trouble to make it look like it is. I can’t imagine why anyone would waste that energy now. Not even Claire,” he said honestly.
Alex took a moment to process the information. “I need to talk to Cass before you get here. Is there anything else I should know?” Alex asked pointedly.
“There is, but I would rather tell you in person,” he responded.
“Tell me now,” Alex demanded.
“Michael Taylor is dead,” Krause said plainly.
Alex felt a sudden wave of dizziness. “Alex?” Cassidy stepped closer and steadied her wife.
“How?” Alex asked.
“Longer story,” Krause said.
“All right,” Alex finally agreed to wait for more answers. “I’ll put on the coffee.”
“Is it done?” Jane Merrow asked as she crossed her legs and sipped her glass of wine.
“It’s done,” the reply came.
“Traceable and believable?” Jane asked.
“It’s done,” he repeated his response.
“Make certain you have covered all of the bases. I want the admiral and Strickland taken completely off guard. Do you understand?” the former first lady asked. “I want that asshole roused from his dreams and thrown into the lion’s den. He’ll have no choice but to call in Admiral Brackett and then…well…Then we will know where William Brackett’s loyalties lie,” she said.
“What next?” he asked.
“Timelines have changed. I am headed east in a few hours,” Jane said. “They have issued the protocol to call in Sphinx.”
“Unexpected,” he responded.
“No,” Jane replied. “Just premature. It changes nothing.”
“You want me to find Sparrow?” he asked.
Jane took another sip of her wine. “Not necessary. I have a feeling that will be taken care of for us. You need to stay under the radar. Stay where you are and make certain our assets are secure,” she instructed him.
“How long?” he asked
“As long as it is necessary, Agent Brady,” she responded.
Cassidy sat on the edge of the bed with her face in her hands. Alex watched her wife intently. Cassidy had yet to have any verbal response to the news that her ex-husband was in all likelihood dead. “Cass?”
A heavy sigh came from deep within Cassidy as she finally looked up to Alex. “I’m supposed to cry; right?”
Alex looked at her wife compassionately. “I don’t think you are supposed to do anything,” she said.
Cassidy nodded. “They’ll be here any minute,” she said. “You better make that coffee you promised,” Cassidy told Alex.
“Cass, I….”
“I’m all right. I just…I need a few minutes. Telling Dylan…. How do I tell Dylan?” Cassidy asked. The uncertainty in Cassidy’s voice broke Alex’s heart. “I know he’s angry, but Alex, Chris is the only father he has ever known.”
“We’ll tell him together,” Alex promised.
Cassidy looked at Alex as tears began to fill her eyes. “I remember that; my mother kneeling in front of me.”
Alex sat beside Cassidy on the bed and pulled her close. So much was happening she hadn’t stopped long enough to connect the obvious dots. No matter what had transpired in their lives, Cassidy had spent many years with Christopher O’Brien. Alex knew that even within the instability of that marriage, there had to have been happy moments. She had even seen glimpses of those brief times between Dylan and the congressman when she first met Cassidy. Christopher O’Brien was a selfish, egotistical man, but Alex could not deny that he remained a valid part of her family’s life; even if his place existed in a chapter of its past. What hadn’t occurred to Alex until this moment, was how the unfolding event would conjure memories of her wife’s past. Cassidy had lost her father in a car accident when she was only ten. Now, she would have to deliver that news to her son. Again, history seemed to repeat itself.
“I’m so sorry, Cass,” Alex said genuinely. “You know that I am here for you; both of you.”
Cassidy stroked Alex’s cheek and smiled sadly. “I know. I’ll be all right. Honestly, I will. I just need a few minutes alone before every….”
“Say no more,” Alex said. She quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. “You come down whenever you are ready,” she told Cassidy.
“Alex?” Cassidy called to her wife as she was about to leave the bedroom.
“Yeah?”
“Alex, Michael…you must be….”
“I’m okay,” Alex said flatly. “I mourned the loss of Michael Taylor already,” she said.
Cassidy nodded her understanding. “I’ll be down….”
“Take as long as you need,” Alex assured her wife. “I’m sure Pip and Eleana have more information that I need to hear. Take a shower. Do whatever you need to do; all right?”
“I want to call my Mom. I don’t want her to wake up and hear it on the news,” Cassidy said.
Alex smiled. “Why don’t you ask her if she can come stay here for a few days?”
“Do you think you’ll be leaving?” Cassidy asked.
“I don’t know,” Alex replied honestly. “There will be a lot to decide; for all of us. It couldn’t hurt to have her here.”
Cassidy nodded. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“You never need to thank me for anything,” Alex said. “Call Rose. I’ll make the coffee.”
“Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you, but this is pressing,” a voice roused the president.
“Isn’t it always?” President Lawrence Strickland replied caustically as he slipped into his robe. “What the hell is so pressing that you have to wake me at four in the morning? Someone brew the decaffeinated coffee again by mistake?”
Jeffrey Mansfield had assumed the role of President Strickland’s Chief of Staff two days after John Merrow’s death. It was an appointment envied by many and a position he was ready to rid himself of as soon as possible. Strickland had always been a difficult personality to manage. Since assuming the role of Commander in Chief, Lawrence Strickland had become insufferable. He was dismissive of advisers and staff; he scoffed at the importance of most matters, and Strickland seemed convinced that as president, he answered to no one. Mansfield pressed down his growing disdain for the man seated before him.
“Mr. President,” Mansfield began, “they located Congressman O’Brien.”
“And you needed to wake me for that because?”
“He’s dead, sir,” Mansfield said.
“Well, that will save the judicial system a few bucks,” Strickland chuckled. “One problem solved.”
“That may be,” Mansfield admitted. “Unfortunately, there is a bit more to it.”
“What did O’Brien do this time?” Strickland asked. “Besides get himself killed?” Mansfield looked at the President curiously. Strickland laughed. “Well, don’t tell me the weasel had a heart attack or something. As many people as hated him, somebody must have gotten their wish,” the president guessed.
“It was an automobile accident,” Mansfield explained.
Strickland roared. “Oh, that is fitting. How glamorous,” he continued to laugh.
Jeffery Mansfield fought the urge to reach across the room and throttle the president. “I suppose not. You might find Director Taylor’s death more interesting,” Mansfield snapped.
The blood drained from President Strickland’s face rapidly. “What are you talking about?” he demanded forcefully.
“The FBI made visits to both of O’Brien’s homes upon notification of the accident. Protocol,” Mansfield said.
“What does that have to do with Michael Taylor?” Strickland bellowed.
“They made a few discoveries; over 150 kilos of cocaine and heroin in his D.C. townhome, among other things that are still under investigation,” Mansfield began to deliver his news.
“How is that possible? The FBI, the CIA, Federal Marshalls, and the NSA all swept that residence when he failed to appear in court. It was sealed for Christ’s sake!” Strickland slammed his hand on the arm of his chair.