by Mel LeBrun
Michael knew he was lying. He had to be ... Or was he? Suddenly he wasn't so sure. He told himself it couldn't be true, Jessica would never do that. But he recalled finding them sitting on the couch together that day at the house, and the seed of doubt began to grow.
“I don't even have to ask her to know that didn't happen.” Michael scoffed at him, not betraying his insecurity.
“She said no, but we both know she really wanted to say yes.” An evil smile crept across Ben's lips. He was so convincing, Michael feared it was true.
The thought that Ben might have forced himself on Jessica made him physically ill. He didn't know which was worse, the thought that she might have done it willingly or that it was against her will.
Michael was known for always keeping his cool, suppressing his emotions even in the worst of circumstances but the mere thought of someone forcing themselves on Jessica was almost unbearable. Add to that, Ben's smug and taunting demeanor and Michael's emotions finally got the better of him. In a blind rage, he beat Ben until he was unconscious. He wanted to kill him but stopped himself just short. His mind was racing. What had really transpired between Ben and Jessica? Was she keeping it from him?
He stood over Ben, breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself. His hands were shaking, which was a feeling he wasn't used to. After a minute, he took off up the stairs to find Jessica. He found her sitting on the kitchen floor, leaning against the wall. She looked up at him, alarmed by his flushed cheeks, what looked like tears, sweat or both covering his face ... his demeanor troubled. Breathing heavily and looking intently at her, he seemed very disturbed.
“What happened?” she stood up and stepped towards him.
“You know you can tell me anything?” He looked in her eyes, as though he were searching for something.
“What did he tell you?” she asked, becoming increasingly concerned and upset herself.
He closed his eyes. “Did something happen ... with him...” He pointed to the stairs. He couldn't even say his name. “... that you don't want to tell me?”
“Like what, Michael?”
He looked away from her. He couldn't bring himself to say it.
“Michael, what did he tell you?”
He looked back at her but still wouldn't elaborate. He looked so distressed yet wouldn't say why.
“I didn't sleep with him.” It was the only thing she could think of that would have gotten him this upset.
“Maybe not willingly.”
She shook her head. “No, Michael.”
She moved close to him and put her hands on his shoulders. He placed his hands on her hips and looked in her eyes, his face filled with conflict.
“Nothing happened,” she continued. “He tried to kiss me. I got away and I called you. That's what happened. I did just like you trained me.”
He nodded as he studied her face. He knew she was telling the truth. He realized Ben was likely trying to goad him into killing him so he couldn't talk or be tortured.
“I'm sorry,” he said.
He wrapped his arms around her back and squeezed her tight while he nuzzled her neck. He started to feel calm again.
“Would you tell me if something like that ever happened?” he asked, still holding her close.
She chuckled. “Do you really think I could hide it from you, Mr. Observes Everything?”
“No. I guess not,” he replied as a slight smile crept across his face.
They heard a car pull in the driveway. Michael stroked her hair and kissed her lips.
“Sounds like the boys are back,” he remarked.
“Is there still a prisoner to interrogate?” she asked, knowing Michael's temper.
He grinned sheepishly. “Yes, he's still alive.”
She shook her head smiling. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Love me.”
“I already do.”
JOSH AND Martin came in through the garage. They stared down at their bloody and unconscious prisoner.
“I should have seen that coming,” Josh berated himself as Michael came down the stairs.
“Note to self, don't leave Michael alone with prisoners,” Martin teased him.
“I got a little carried away,” Michael admitted.
“You think?” Josh replied sarcastically.
Michael ignored him and turned to Martin. “Got everything?”
Martin nodded and handed him a paper bag.
“Nice,” Michael said as his phone started buzzing. It was Corvo asking where they were. Michael related the address to him.
“That's a pretty bad part of town,” Corvo remarked.
“Yeah, it might be best if I pick you up,” Michael said. “This isn't exactly an FBI friendly neighborhood.”
“Probably a good idea. Let's meet.”
Corvo suggested a place and Michael agreed to pick him up.
“Can you bring me back some food?” Jessica asked after he was off the phone. “It's after lunch and I still haven't eaten.”
“Bring me something too,” Josh chimed in.
“Sure. I'll be back in a little bit.” He kissed Jessica goodbye and left. On his way to pick up Corvo, he phoned Gatti.
“Hi Michael. What's up?”
“Something is bothering me,” said Michael. “The reason I was out of the country when this whole thing with Jessica was happening. I don't believe in coincidences.”
“I was going to ask you about that. Why were you in Germany?” Gatti asked.
“Martin's niece was taken by some traffickers to Germany. An operation run by a Felix Meier. We managed to track down where she was and we got her back. That alone would be unusual enough. But to have this happen at the same time ...”
“I see your point. You think it was staged to get you out of the way?”
“Maybe. There's also something the guy said to Jessica that doesn't sit well with me. He said she was a lot prettier than he thought she'd be.”
“Sounds like he was hired to do a job,” said Gatti.
“It sure seems that way. You heard about the hotel?” Michael asked.
“No, what happened?”
Michael gave him a brief rundown of what took place.
“Good thing Josh was so close. I'll see what I can find out,” Gatti assured him. “You should talk to Lance about it too though. He has both the CIA and FBI at his disposal. He's in a better position to help you. If I want anything from the FBI, I have to contact him anyway.”
“Cut out the middle man?” Michael said.
“Exactly.”
“How trustworthy is this guy, Tim? No offense, but in my experience CIA guys can be a little ... umm ... underhanded.”
“You can trust him, Michael, but if it makes you feel any better I'll keep an eye on him.”
“That would make me feel better. Also, find out what he did with that tracker.”
“Will do.”
“Why is he helping us anyway? It can't be out of the kindness of his heart.”
“I asked him to,” said Gatti.
“I thought you did.” Michael smiled. “Well, I'm about to pick him up so I should let you go.”
“Keep in touch.”
Michael hung up his phone just as he stopped the car next to Corvo. “We're on food duty,” he declared once Corvo was inside.
“Good. That will give us some time to talk,” Corvo said.
“About what?” Michael asked as he drove away.
“You.”
Michael just looked at him.
“You have any enemies from your past who might be causing this?” Corvo asked.
“My past?”
“You're living in hiding. Under an assumed name.”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Michael replied.
“Of course you do. Though I'll give you this. You're a much better liar than your wife.”
Michael sighed and looked out the window.
“You were special forces, were you not?” Corvo asked.<
br />
“Who told you that?”
“Your wife. Green Berets was it?”
“Yeah. What of it?” Michael replied.
“That's interesting. She said you were a Navy SEAL,” Corvo said, amused that he caught Michael in a lie.
Michael sighed loudly. “Two years, Green Berets. Four years, Navy SEAL.”
“Make up your mind.”
“I did both.”
“They don't just swap people around. It's not a football team.”
“What can I say? I was a hot commodity. Someone high up wanted me in the Navy and made it happen.”
Corvo wasn't sure he believed him but decided to move on. “Did you ever get offered other work? Maybe of a more clandestine manner?”
“You know I wouldn't be able to answer that.”
“Only if it's a yes.” Corvo grinned victoriously.
Michael breathed deep and shifted in his seat, realizing he just answered Corvo by not answering him. Exhausted, he was not up to the task of being interrogated by a CIA operative.
“Michael. You know more than you're telling.”
Feeling himself losing the battle of wits, Michael decided to just tell Corvo everything. “Before this guy attacked Jess, something happened that required me to be out of the country. It's too much of a coincidence to be nothing.”
“What happened?”
“A good friend of mine called me,” Michael explained. “His niece was taken by traffickers to Germany. He asked me to help him get her back. So me, Josh, and him flew to Germany to find her.”
“You mean Martin Lavene.” Corvo had already checked into Michael's recent travels. He knew Josh, Martin, and Michael had flown to Germany and returned with Martin's niece. He also suspected it had something to do with what was happening and was hoping Michael would spill it.
“Someone's been busy,” Michael remarked.
“You're not exactly a fountain of knowledge, Michael. So I had to do some digging on my own.”
Michael gave him a look and continued. “Anyway, I don't think we were meant to find her so quickly. Pretty sure they wanted me out of the way for a few days at least. Unfortunately for them, Martin has a lot of connections and was able to get her location.”
“How does he have connections? He's just an accountant.”
To most of Martin's friends and family, he was an accountant. He was certified as such and often helped them out with taxes and bookkeeping. Only a few knew the truth. That he was actually a CIA operative and being an accountant was just his cover. Eventually he grew tired of the life and quit, but not until after building up a network of valuable contacts. Everyone from arms dealers to document forgers and everything in between.
“He's very good at his work,” Michael said. “People like him.”
Corvo was skeptical of that explanation, to say the least. “Right. I'd have to say that ex-CIA spook would be more believable.”
Michael didn't make any reply.
“I have another question for you.” Corvo looked at him. “I ran your prints. And Jessica's.”
Michael glared at him. “I didn't hear a question in there.”
“Turns out you're nothing but a number,” Corvo continued, ignoring Michael's comeback. “Your file is sealed and above my clearance level. I can understand why, that's not terribly unusual for Special Ops. But why does your wife have a file, and why is it classified?”
Michael was quiet as he tried to come up with a believable reason.
“And your friends, Josh and Martin ... both with files, also both classified.” Corvo waited for a response. There was none, so he continued. “If I had to guess, I'd say you're all ex-CIA. Would explain why you have contacts inside the agency.”
“You really have been busy.” Michael neither confirmed nor denied the accusation.
“I'm just getting started,” Corvo replied.
Michael took a deep breath but didn't respond.
Corvo continued. “You have no property in your name, no job on paper, no bank accounts. The few connections you do have are under an assumed name. If you weren't sitting here next to me, I wouldn't have the slightest idea how to find you. You're being shielded by the government. Why is that?”
“Raymond Pierce and Felix Meier.” Michael wanted to move the conversation in a different direction.
“My questions first,” Corvo said firmly.
“Do I need to call Tim?” Michael threatened, knowing Corvo was under orders to help him.
Corvo realized he wasn't going to get any further with his questions. He certainly didn't want Michael complaining to Gatti. He sighed and thought for a minute. “Felix Meier. I've heard that name.”
“They're the reason I was in Germany. Pierce is a recruiter and Meier runs a human trafficking operation in Germany, Belgium, and the Netherlands.”
“Ah yes. Now I remember. He's a pretty sick guy. Deals with girls, and boys, of all ages. He has no conscience.”
“That's more than I wanted to know,” Michael groaned. “Why hasn't anyone stopped him?”
“Besides no evidence tying him to anything, he's protected by some pretty powerful people. We're not even sure by who and how many,” Corvo replied.
“And Pierce?” Michael asked.
“First I've heard of him. I'll run a check with the bureau and see if I can find anything.”
“Good.” Michael parked the car in front of a deli. He sat for a minute reflecting on recent events.
Corvo studied him. “You're not going to tell me, are you?”
“Tell you what?” Michael looked at him.
“You an agency man?”
“No.”
“Why are all your files classified?”
“I wouldn't know,” Michael answered as he opened his door and stepped out.
Corvo frowned, realizing he wouldn't get what he wanted out of him. He followed Michael into the deli. They returned to the car a few minutes later with sandwiches for everyone. On the way back to the house, Corvo called in about Raymond Pierce.
“I'm sorry, can you repeat that?” Corvo said to whoever he was talking to on the phone. “No, I just wasn't sure I heard that right. Can you give me his location? Thanks.” He hung up the phone and turned to Michael. “You're gonna love this.”
“Why do I feel like I won't?”
“He's an FBI informant.”
“Are you kidding me?!” Michael raised his voice.
“Wish I was.”
Michael shook his head. “Guess you really vet these guys huh?” He was disgusted.
“Just because they're informing, doesn't mean they're one of the good guys,” Corvo said.
“Yeah, but they get a free pass.”
Corvo sighed. It was true. They weren't supposed to, but often agents would turn a blind eye to an informant's dealings if they were a source of good intel.
“There's more.” Corvo continued. “He moves around. He doesn't have a permanent address. Normally, I would just have to get in touch with his handler to find him.”
“But you can't?”
“He's dead,” Corvo bluntly replied.
Michael looked at him, fearing he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask. “Tell me it's not the guy who was following me?”
“One and the same.”
Michael was not pleased. It was becoming more and more certain that Katie's kidnapping was not random but planned. And it had something to do with him and Jessica.
“Maybe we'll get something useful from Ben.” Michael tried to stay upbeat. He took his phone from his pocket, pulled up the photo he took of Ben, then handed the phone to Corvo. “What can you do with that?”
Corvo looked at the picture. “I could run it through our facial recognition software and see if we get a hit.”
“That would be helpful.”
Corvo sent the picture to his phone and then forwarded it to the FBI and his contact in the CIA.
They soon pulled up to the house where Jessica
and Josh were anxiously awaiting the food. Michael suggested Corvo use the front door instead of going in through the garage. Since they weren't going to kill Ben, it would be best if he didn't see Corvo's face. He was still an FBI agent after all. Michael did ask to borrow his handcuffs though.
As Corvo got out of the car, he noticed people on nearby porches hastily retreating into their homes. Only a few brave men remained and stared at the house. When he looked directly at them however, they quickly looked away. Josh and Jessica pounced on the bags of food the second that they walked in the front door.
“I couldn't help noticing the neighbors are giving you a wide berth,” Corvo remarked.
“I made a show of force when we first arrived,” Michael explained.
Jessica was eagerly unwrapping her sandwich. She stopped and looked up at Corvo. “He dragged Ben out in front of everyone at gunpoint.” She was thinking Corvo would be just as shocked as she was. She was wrong.
“Nice,” Corvo commended him. “I would have done the same thing.”
Michael grinned. Jessica looked at the two of them and shook her head in exasperation before turning her attention back to her food. Josh was already wolfing down his sandwich. Michael took the handcuffs downstairs and used them to bind Ben to a pipe running across the ceiling. Martin had been downstairs keeping watch over the prisoner. Once Ben's hands were securely bound above his head, they both returned upstairs to join everyone in the kitchen.
Corvo looked in the paper bag on the counter that Martin had brought. “Planning a little party?” he commented as he pulled a vial from the bag. There were also a few syringes inside.
“I don't think he'll talk without a little help,” Michael reasoned. “I'm quite fond of drugs myself.”
Corvo nodded. He felt the same way.
“When Michael and I first met, he needed to find out where I lived but I wouldn't tell him. He gave me some Vicodin for my sprained ankle and I was so out of it, I told him everything.” Jessica chuckled. “Didn't even remember telling him anything.”
Michael looked like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Martin, Josh, and Corvo looked at him, knowing full well Vicodin alone wouldn't have done that. He looked down nervously, not sure what to say. The truth was, he had drugged her while she was sleeping so she wouldn't remember.