Lillian had her bag packed. She had not been home in days. “You’re all crazy,” she said. “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Good luck Ms. MacJames, you’ll need it.” She quickly left the house.
MacJames cleaned up after dinner so Mitchelli could put his children into bed. When she finished, she sat in the great room expecting Mitchelli to join her. While she waited, she admired the details of the room: wood crown molding, and the large windows, which framed the outdoor views. She ran her hand over the fabric on the couch while arranging the throw pillows. As she studied the room, she became acquainted with its decorator. A woman who possessed an abundance of style had thoughtfully chosen the furniture and accessories. MacJames suddenly realized Ann’s strong presence in the house. It was Ann’s house; she had made it the Mitchelli home.
MacJames studied the family photographs in ornate frames that adorned the room. She had no family photographs to show off in her living room. She had no family. Other than her career, her life had no depth. Her house was not a home. As time slipped away from MacJames, her desire for a family of her own grew. Peter Maximus Mitchelli was her chance for a family she could take care of. Her career had brought them together, now it threatened to tear them apart. Her dream of having a family, Mitchelli’s family, would slip away. She knew Mitchelli and his family were in grave danger. His death a loss she vowed would never happen. She would not wallow in her emotions. MacJames could not give up. She would fight for Mitchelli’s family because she wanted them in her life.
Mitchelli never came back down the stairs. Barefooted, she went upstairs searching for him. Her body bladed against the wall as she quietly moved down the hallway. She stopped, her body positioned on the opposite wall at each door, and peered through the door opening using the wall as cover. She moved her body several degrees at a time, slicing the view of the room like a pie. Cautiously MacJames checked each bedroom; all were unoccupied. She had scanned three empty bedrooms; at end of the long hallway was the master bedroom. She slowly opened the door. The immense room was dark and the light from the TV flickered across the bed. Mitchelli lay in the center of the bed with Kaitlin and Peter on either side of him, asleep.
“What the hell took you so long?” Mitchelli whispered, “I can’t move, I have a bad cramp in my back. Can you get the kids off me?”
MacJames delicately pulled the children off their father. She carried Kaitlin to her room gently tucking her into bed and covering her with her favorite blanket she called Smelly. She then whispered softly to PJ. She coaxed him out of bed and guided the groggy boy to his room where she tucked him in. MacJames had no children, yet she performed the motherly acts with grace.
MacJames carefully stepped onto the bed. She held Mitchelli’s hands as she straddled his body and attempting to pull him up. “Peter you may have to sleep in your clothes, I can’t budge you. Let me try one more time, give me some help.” With the next pull, she lost her balance and fell on top of him. Her knee hit him in the stomach as she fell. Her hair draped over his face as she learned over him. “Are you alright?” Mitchelli could smell her perfume. Her soft auburn hair touched his face triggering his memories of Ann. He touched her face. His hands moved slowly down her body. Holding and touching MacJames confirmed he was not hallucinating. His hands rested on her hips.
Mitchelli sighed with relief, “You’re beautiful.” He raised his head from his pillow to kiss her.
MacJames asked, “Is your back really cramped?”
“Cramped…” Mitchelli smiled.
“I knew it, Mitchelli do you think you have to con me to get me into bed?”
“No, the con was to tuck my kids in; I didn’t want to miss this TV show.”
“So, you think I’m easy?”
“Well…” Mitchelli paused.
“Ah! You’re driving me crazy!” MacJames licked her lips and gave Mitchelli a wet one on his forehead. “We’re going to finish our discussion, you’re not conning your way out of it.”
“What discussion?”
“Peter, we usually don’t have agents get into physical fights in a federal office building. Punches thrown, furniture used as weapons, knives pulled.”
“I didn’t pull a knife—I don’t even carry one. You have to carry a knife to be accused of pulling one. Sal tossed me his knife. Technically, he pulled the knife from his holster! Although, maybe I should start carrying one, did you see his knife holster? I liked it.” Mitchelli moved his hand to his shoulder, mimicking Buckala pulling his knife from its holster.
“You threw it at Hoss just before you kicked him through the window!”
“I didn’t throw it at Hoss! I threw it at the door. If I threw it at Hoss, he would be dead. That was for effect, your agent should have pulled his pistol long before I threw the knife.”
“Where did you learn how to throw a knife?”
Mitchelli paused for a moment attempting to remember. “I’ve never thrown a knife before, first time this afternoon.”
“I suppose you’re going to convince me Hoss should have drawn his gun when you broke the conference room table against his body?”
“Let it go!”
“Oh, I remember at the FBI Academy they trained us to skin our guns when a team member grabbed our cell phone, smashing it against the conference room table. That’s deadly assault with a phone against a table.” She hesitated and lowered her voice, attempting to calm down. “After you kicked him out the window…you approached him, holding that knife in hand. If I didn’t know you, I would have thought you were going to stab him.” She studied Mitchelli’s face attempting to read his emotions; he hid them well. “Ok, I understand, the heat of the battle, adrenalin flowing… It’s tough to calm down after a fight.”
“Angela, his gun didn’t have a round chambered. Is that how the FBI trains you—to carry a pistol with an empty chamber and just four rounds of ammo?”
“No! I don’t know why he carried like that; maybe he was in a hurry this morning.”
“In a hurry to get my family killed and himself. He made sure his phone was charged to book his damn fight. I thought the government paid their agents enough money so they didn’t need part-time jobs.”
MacJames looked into Mitchelli’s eyes. “Forget Hoss. What happened in the conference room? You were distracted as though you were looking at something else in the room.”
“Don’t change the subject!”
“You’re telling me what to do!”
Mitchelli put his hands under MacJames blouse. “I couldn’t focus.”
“Don’t play me, it was more than struggling to focused. When it comes to this job and your children’s safety you’re hyper focused. You looked as though you were listening to someone else in the room. Peter, you left us.”
Mitchelli looked away from MacJames at a picture of Ann on the nightstand. “What do want me to say Angela, that I was listening to a ghost?”
“Peter, a few days ago you almost died. You’re on pain medication and you’re under a tremendous amount of stress. Freed lowered the boom on you this morning with Kazz’s murder. If you’re hallucinating it’s understandable. It could be a side effect from your medication.”
Mitchelli shouted, “I’m not taking any pain pills, I stopped last night!” He lowered his voice. “I didn’t want to fall asleep during our date, the damn things make me sleepy.” MacJames could feel his body tense underneath her as his frustration grew with her persistent questioning. “Hallucinating is understandable.” Mitchelli raised his voice. “Is it reasonable for an FBI agent to carry an empty gun? Is that understandable?”
“Peter, it’s not the same. I’m responsible for you.”
Mitchelli stopped her in her tracks, “Twenty-one field agents are missing, they have families. Were they caring pistols with empty chambers? Angela, it’s a double standard!”
“Are you done?” MacJames was getting upset as well. She rolled off Mitchelli and lied on her back, staring at the ceiling.
“Hoss sits in a strategic meeting concerning the protection of my children, texting away managing his second job, and he gets a pass because he’s one of your bureau brothers.” Mitchelli got out of bed and walked towards a large window, which overlooked the backyard. The moon lit the trees in the distance. “And I get questioned because I stare at an empty chair for a moment. What the hell is with that?”
“Pat reprimanded Hoss.”
“Pat’s reprimand no effect. He kept on texting. I knew what was happening and I was hallucinating.”
“Peter, you were hallucinating? I knew it.”
“God damn it.” Mitchelli gritted his teeth in anger as MacJames jumped out of bed. Her eyes glistened in the moonlight. He turned towards her. “What if I was, what then? Are you going to send an e-mail to Stuart telling him to pull my authorization as an operative? Tell me why it’s so damn important for the Bureau’s Assistant Deputy Director to know.”
“Why are you pushing me, Peter?” Her voice softened, she looked at him as her eyes began to tear, but she would not let him see her cry. He walked towards her and she abruptly placed both hands on his chest firmly pushing him back, fighting to hold her ground. He stopped. MacJames’s right hand moved quickly to her side under her blouse and drew her pistol from its holster, which was held to her waist by an elastic belt under her blouse. Her draw was remarkably swift, impressing Mitchelli. She pointed the pistol towards the window at a forty-five degree angle; in case of an accidental discharge, the bullet would go through the window embedding safely in the lawn. She stripped the magazine, threw it at Mitchelli and yelled, “Count them!”
“I don’t have to.” Mitchelli could tell by the weight of the Magazine it was full, a capacity of twelve.
MacJames quickly racked the slide firmly to the rear. A round ejected from the chamber and bounced off the ceiling and landed by Mitchelli’s foot, confirming she had a live round in the chamber the gun, hot and ready to fire.
“Do you want to check my spare mags?” She grabbed two magazines from the opposite side of her waist, drawing them from their pouches and tossing them at Mitchelli. The heavy magazines bounced off his chest and onto the floor. She released the slide lock and, letting the slide crack forward, she hit the hammer release, which moved the hammer from cocked to safe and holstered her pistol, just as quickly as she had drawn it. “No one’s perfect Peter, not even federal agents. Don’t judge all of us by the foolish actions of one ego maniac.”
“Why is it so damn important you know what’s going through my head? Stop trying to diagnose me.”
She looked at Mitchelli, “I’m responsible for you. Suppose we screw up and you are killed, it’s my twenty-year career that goes up in flames. Stuart’s appointed, he’ll he won’t take any heat, I will.” Mistakenly she answered as a Assistant Deputy Director.
“Well then, thank you for being honest, I’m sorry for my unprofessional behavior I’ll try not to embarrass you anymore, I hope my bullet wounds don’t bleed and stain your twenty year career.”
MacJames recognized her error. “That didn’t come out right.”
“It was fine, it came across loud and clear.” You need her to get to Handly, use her guilt as a weapon.
“Don’t be an ass, you have head like a rock! Do you think I’m just worried about my career? I’ve barely left your side since we’ve met.”
“You haven’t left my side because you don’t trust me.”
Frustrated, MacJames clenched her fists. “Damn it, why do you have to make me feel like a teenager? I’m professional law enforcement agent falling to pieces because I’m in love with you. For the last twelve years of my life, I’ve cared for no one. I lived for my career. I’m the cold Baltimore Whore who doesn’t have a life, husband, family, or kids. I’m pretty damn pathetic for an FBI Assistant Deputy Director. I’m a three-time loser when it comes to marriage. So the Baltimore Whore misspoke. I’m obsessively worried over losing someone I’ve fallen in love with. I’m desperate Peter; my time for a family has run out.”
“God damn it! You’re no loser; don’t ever say that again.” Mitchelli began to yell, “You have more guts and brains than anyone else I’ve seen working for the Bureau, including those shit heads in Quantico.” Back off, retreat, concede Peter, let her believe she’s won this argument.
Mitchelli walked towards MacJames to console her. She suddenly stepped forward with one leg thrust both hands towards his chest and pushed him backwards. Surprised he stumbled towards the bay window. MacJames stared out the window at the moon. “I’m selfish, I haven’t been truthful. I don’t want to lose you or your family to this assignment. Your fury scares me Peter. Within your rage is a passionate man; a man driven to win. You convinced us, Stuart was right we needed you to jumpstart this case, but I don’t know if I can live with the risk of having you hurt again. You know how lucky you were?” Her fist clenched she looked at Mitchelli. her first. “When you and Hoss were going at it, at first I was embarrassed, your behavior unprofessional, reprehensible even for a civilian operative. Anyone else and I would have kicked their ass out on the street. Bob knows that.”
Ashamed he shook his head. “I embarrassed you professionally,” he said. His mind job began to rewind years in the past. He looked up and let out a deep breath. Lie, you can’t hurt her, make her believe what she wants is true, “When am I going to learn not to hurt the women I love?” Ann, I’m doing it again, making someone else’s life miserable; I must be mad. Angela would handcuff me if she knew my past. I must get Handly.
MacJames acted as though she had not heard his comment, “I was petrified Hoss was going to beat the hell out of you, or you’d rip your wounds open and bleed to death. I met you for the first time in that conference room.” I seduced him, and guilted him into this mission in that very conference room. “ I recruited you in that room. You confided in me, in that very room.” Her voice professional, almost scripted as though giving instructions to a subordinate. Mitchelli moved towards her but they did not touch. “But then when you bested Hoss, fought back, proved your point and kicked his big arrogant young ass through the window like no other professional lawman I’ve ever seen… I couldn’t wait to be alone with you.”
Don’t hurt her, misdirect the truth, lead her emotions in the direction you can use. “It wasn’t my intention to embarrass you,” he said.
“Peter, most reasonable people don’t destroy a room, threaten an agent with a knife throw, and then kick them through a window. Please tell me what your intentions were?” MacJames pulled herself together and stood her ground.
He felt her embarrassment; he had tarnished her reputation with his emotional actions. He could see she was about to yell at him again; her body tensed in preparation.
Ok Angela you asked for it! “I saw Ann,” he sighed. His face looked confused, almost shocked he had confessed. He had to look away from MacJames. He turned towards the window. He was ashamed of his confession. He was disgusted with himself for pushing MacJames through an emotional ringer as he had done with his wife. Bend her emotions; confuse her to get what you want. “You deserve the truth, as crazy as it seems. I owe you that. I promised you the truth.”
“Well, are you sure?” MacJames was careful not to use the word hallucinate.
“I’m sure.”
“Did she speak to you?”
Ok big mouth, you opened the door, let her have it with both barrels. “Oh yeah she spoke to me! As if she was in the room with us. She was as real as Hoss texting away on his phone.”
MacJames placed her hand on Mitchelli’s shoulder and asked, “What did she say?” Mitchelli put his head down. “Please tell me.”
You need her sympathy. “She made me feel like I was irresponsible for getting involved with this investigation. She was right.”
“You’re under a lot of stress, you’re feeling a guilty. Your conscience is getting a little wound up.”
Mitchelli raised his voice as he spoke, “Oh, I’m a little wound up? Alright if you s
ay so. Ann, the voice of my self conscious, asked if I had any faith in the FBI agents that had to protect her children.” He gazed out the window embarrassed to look at her face as he spoke. He trusted MacJames, but knew she was a consummate professional. She wanted the truth and had the tools to work it out of Mitchelli. Her beauty and brains were her greatest weapons. Don’t sound overly pathetic, Peter. “Angela, I thought she was really in the room. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t touch her. I know it’s crazy. Pull my ticket and get the hell away from me.”
“You’re not crazy.” He’s crazy, and needs help. No way is Stuart going to let me take him off the case. MacJames had received the answer she wanted, the truth. She remembered Mitchelli’s actions in the room prior to the Hoss fight; staring at an empty chair despondently. She believed him.
Mitchelli had negotiating skills of his own. Tell her what she wants to hear. “I’m a little slow on the uptake. I haven’t loved many women, you’re one of two.” He cautiously held her hand. “You’re the only agent I trust with the lives of my children.”
Mind Kill- Rise of the Marauder Page 34