“Interesting. What do you mean he stopped the flow?”
“It seems he stopped funneling the usual amounts to ASA shortly before his death,” Krause explained.
“Anywhere else that she has noted that action?” Callier asked cautiously.
“Not that she mentioned, no.”
Edmond Callier rubbed his chin and released a heavy sigh as he headed to the bar at the far side of his office. Slowly, he opened the bottle of scotch that sat atop it and poured himself a glass. “Nicolaus Toles was an enigma, Jonathan. The Broker…. well, he had access to the inner workings of everything in The Collaborative; as it once stood. If we were the ship, he was the engine room.”
Krause considered the statement carefully. “Edmond?”
“Yes?”
“You still haven’t told me much about Mr. Toles.”
“What makes you so curious?” Callier asked. Krause did not immediately reply. Edmond Callier let out the hint of a nervous laugh. “You’re worried.”
“Of course I am worried. We are on very shaky ground…”
Callier interrupted. “No. You are worried about your family. Why is that so hard for you to admit, Jonathan?”
“I told you. They are not my family.”
Callier laughed. “Families can be complicated.” He took another long sip of his scotch and savored it for a moment. “Come to Paris.”
“Why?” Krause asked abruptly.
“You have questions that you want answers to. I may not have the answers you seek. And, the answers I have may not be what you want to hear,” Callier explained.
“I don’t have expectations,” Krause replied.
“Good. Then I will see you soon.”
The door to the warehouse rolled up slowly and then swiftly closed. Claire Brackett walked deliberately through the spacious room that was filled with boxes and pallets toward the singular door that resided at its opposite end. She pressed a few numbers into a keypad and the door opened. She stepped through into the narrow corridor that led to yet another door and stopped abruptly, waiting as the camera scanned her presence. She pressed her thumb against another small pad and watched as the steel door opened automatically, granting her access to a world most people only see in movies. The walls were covered with large screens, each depicting real-time footage of various places around the globe. Long tables lined the room adorned with endless, smaller flat screens. Claire Brackett was always surprised by the veritable silence in a room that was filled with constant activity. It both intrigued and unsettled her. She preferred her life working in the field. This was a coward’s version of the spy game, safely tucked away, peering into people’s everyday lives; most of whom Claire Brackett regarded at insignificant and uninteresting. She shuddered slightly in disgust.
“Sparrow,” a man’s voice greeted her in the distance. “What brings you here?”
“We may have a problem,” she answered.
“We always have problems,” he laughed.
Claire Brackett did not share in his humor. She was uncertain how much validity to place in the information her father had given her. One thing she did know; it was unwise to dismiss anything Admiral William Brackett said as unimportant. “I am glad you are amused. My father seems to think that certain assets we secured are…well…”
The man before her reared his head in laughter. “He is a clever old coot.”
Claire Brackett regarded the man before her cautiously. “Are you telling me that my father is setting me up again?” she asked.
“I can’t say what the good admiral’s agenda is. Perhaps he was given false information,” he said simply, but Brackett could see his eyes twinkling in amusement. “Or, perhaps he just knew you would run here to me.”
“You’re not concerned?” she asked
“No. The package is at the border already. And, I think this would be a good time for you to visit our friend Dimitri.”
“You want me to go to Moscow?”
“No, I want you to see Dimitri,” he answered.
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, Claire….if your father is expecting you to provide a pathway…”
Claire Brackett’s frustrated reply came swiftly. “You think he is using me?”
The man shrugged. “You don’t?” He watched her expression harden. “You have used him, yet you expect him to do less?” He shook his head. “Dimitri will be in London Tuesday. Meet him there. Meet Agent Anderson at the coffee shop Monday at noon. You’ll get the details there.”
“And then what?” she barked.
He smiled as he turned to take his leave. “Just follow the directives, Sparrow.”
The redheaded agent watched as the man walked across the large room and through a set of glass doors. “Follow,” she began to muse. “That’s not what I was raised to do,” she whispered to herself. “We’ll see who follows.”
Jonathan Krause picked up his phone and lifted it to his ear. “Krause.”
“It’s Blevins. I need a ride.”
Krause inhaled deeply. “Flat tire?” he asked.
“No, lost my keys,” the response came swiftly.
“I’m not close. I’m afraid you are on your own. Perhaps you should call a cab,” Krause suggested.
“All right,” the voice answered. “It would have been more convenient for you to pick me up.”
“Yes. Sorry about that. Is the car secure or do you need a tow?” Krause asked.
“It should be fine.”
“Good. Sorry, I can’t help you,” Krause offered.
“I know how to call a cab,” the man responded.
Krause chuckled. “See you soon. Let me know if you find those keys.”
“Will do,” the voice said as the call disconnected.
Krause rubbed his hand over his head in frustration. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb Alex’s weekend. The call, however, was enough to convince him that a brief visit was necessary. Brian Fallon would not make such a call if he were not certain that they were compromised in some way. Fallon had been tailing Claire Brackett for months. Both Krause and Alex had been waiting for a break where the younger Brackett was concerned. As reckless as the young agent’s actions could be; she was adept at covering her tracks. Krause began running through possible scenarios with the young, cocky Brackett at their center. The fact that the she had been responsible for the retrieval of the Cesium he and Alex had been attempting to track down for months concerned him. Tensions of late were higher than the usual off the charts strain embedded within the intelligence complex. It would have been an understatement to say that the situation had become volatile. The protocol that he had established with Brian Fallon was something he had hoped would never be needed. Dealing with Claire Brackett as the fringe operative she appeared was one thing; managing her as an agent whose ties remained secretly and deeply embedded in the agency or NSA could prove to be a nightmare.
It was clear to Krause that the admiral’s plan to call in his daughter and plant a seed of worry had worked. She ran to someone. It was where she found that someone that now concerned Krause the most. The warehouse in Baltimore had long functioned as Krause’s home base. The facility housed what was once the nerve center of the agency’s most secretive operations. It was comprised of a collection of NSA, CIA, and DOD experts and analysts. It had been The Collaborative’s living room. It was, until this moment, a location he had met with both Brian Fallon and Alex Toles.
Krause shook his head and groaned. He was anxious to get to Paris and speak with Edmond Callier, and this time he was determined to be unrelenting. It was time for some answers, long overdue answers. He had grown tired of researching The Collaborative’s money trail. That provided clues, many clues, but to date it produced no actionable intelligence. There was one question that was nagging at the back of his mind; was this focus on the money trail deliberate? Had the admiral and Edmond Callier merely been stalling his efforts with Alex? It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Alex ne
eded to know if Fallon was compromised in any way. He silently cursed the need to disrupt his new partner’s life again and the need to delay his flight overseas temporarily. “Sorry, Alex,” he sighed as he turned the key in the ignition.
Saturday, December 6th
lex woke up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She felt the space next to her and shifted to Cassidy’s side of the large bed, inhaling the faint scent of her wife’s perfume on the pillow. Cassidy reached the doorway and smiled at the sight before her. Normally, Alex was up well before her wife. On the rare occasions that Cassidy vacated the bed while Alex was sleeping, she often returned to find the agent hugging her pillow tightly. “Miss me?” Cassidy called playfully.
Alex made no effort to move and mumbled her response, still clinging to the pillow. “Why are you up?”
Cassidy giggled and made her way into the room with a cup of coffee. “It’s 9:00 a.m.” Cassidy laughed a bit harder as Alex reluctantly pulled herself to a sitting position, holding Cassidy’s pillow to her chest and pouting like an overtired child. “You are going to have to let go of squishy me, if you want this,” Cassidy winked and gently pried the pillow from Alex’s grip, replacing it with a cup of coffee.
“Squishy you?” Alex asked.
“Thought I didn’t know about that, huh?” Cassidy raised her brow. Alex suddenly found the contents of the cup in her hand fascinating. Cassidy could not help but laugh. She had gotten up one night after Dylan had come into their room. When she returned, she found Alex cuddled up to her pillow. Listening to Alex mumble, she decided to ask her wife what she was doing. In Alex’s sleep induced haze she had muttered, “cuddling squishy you.” Cassidy kissed Alex’s cheek and whispered in her ear. “I’m not sure how I feel about being called squishy, but I think you are adorable.”
Alex gave a slightly embarrassed groan and took another sip of her coffee. Cassidy took the opportunity to sprawl across the bed and put her head in Alex’s lap. “Where’s Speed?” Alex asked.
Cassidy closed her eyes, feeling Alex’s hand instinctively begin to comb gently through her hair. “Looking through boxes of ornaments with your mother. It was a great diversion to keep him from coming up here to pounce on you.”
“You could have let him…”
“Mm-hm…I know,” Cassidy replied. “You needed the rest, honey.”
“I guess I did,” Alex admitted. “I take it you asked Mom about coming back with us later today.”
“I did.”
“What did she say?” Alex asked.
Cassidy cuddled a little closer. “I think she is looking forward to it.”
The sound of the doorbell caused both women to sigh. They both chuckled at Dylan’s enthusiastic greeting when the door opened. “Uncle Pip!”
Alex exhaled forcefully, and Cassidy felt the stiffening in her wife’s body. “I take it this is not a social call,” Cassidy said softly.
“Probably not,” Alex admitted, placing a gentle kiss on Cassidy’s head. She carefully extracted herself from underneath the weight of her wife and watched as Cassidy threw the pillow she had been holding over her face. “Hey, be careful with squishy you,” Alex admonished. Cassidy kicked her feet slightly in frustration, and Alex laughed. “I’m sure it is nothing earth shattering,” Alex assured her.
Cassidy sighed and threw the pillow off of her. “I just would like a couple of days…just for us to be…”
Alex smiled. “I know,” she said. “You know….You love Pip, and so does Dylan.” Cassidy’s brow furrowed. “You do,” Alex laughed. “And he loves you both. I’m sure an excuse to see you figured into the equation.”
Cassidy contemplated the look in Alex’s eyes. She had watched the evolution of Alex’s relationship with Jonathan Krause. They were alike in many ways. There was little doubt in Cassidy’s mind that Alex had genuine affection for Jonathan Krause, though it was something Alex never spoke of directly. “Well, whatever it is, it had better not change our plans,” Cassidy said more firmly than she had intended.
The tension in her wife’s voice did not escape Alex’s notice. She offered Cassidy an apologetic smile. “It won’t.” She kissed Cassidy on the forehead and headed to retrieve some clothes.
“Mom! Alex! Uncle Pip is here!” a voice bellowed up the stairs.
Alex finished buttoning her jeans and pulled a blue sweater over her head. “Come on,” she said as she pulled Cassidy to her feet. Cassidy collapsed into the agent’s arms, and Alex held her close.
“Promise?” Cassidy asked weakly. She hated being needy, but the truth was, she did need Alex.
“I promise, Cass,” Alex replied with another soft kiss. “Come on, the sooner we get down there; the sooner we get on with our weekend.”
“I hope so,” slipped almost inaudibly from Cassidy’s lips. It did not go unnoticed by her wife, and Alex made a silent commitment to close the physical distance that had kept them apart far too often as soon as possible.
“I promise,” Alex whispered as they made their way down the stairs.
Dylan was excitedly showing his Uncle Pip some of Alex’s childhood Christmas ornaments when Alex and Cassidy reached the room hand in hand. Immediately, the boy found his feet and ran to his parents. “Alex, look!” He held out a Big Bird ornament with a great big smile. “YaYa says this one was yours!”
“Yep, I believe it was, Speed.” Alex winked and swept Dylan up onto her. His feet gripped her waist, and his arms flew around her neck tightly. “I missed you, Dylan,” Alex said, her voice hoarse with more emotion than she expected.
Dylan just smiled. “Mom says we are getting our tree tomorrow!” He turned back to the man that was sitting on the sofa and continued. “YaYa’s coming too. She’s going to let me take some of her ornaments and help us with the tree,” he said. “Why don’t you come, Uncle Pip?”
Jonathan Krause’s lips curled into a warm, genuine smile. Something about Dylan always seemed to remind him of his youth. He could see so much of Cassidy in the youngster. He looked like his mother. He was intelligent and compassionate just like the woman Jonathan Krause had always loved. Dylan’s eyes twinkled with the mischief of the best friend Krause missed every day. “I’m sorry, Dylan. I wish I could.”
“Why can’t you?” Dylan asked.
“I have to take a trip. But, I’ll bet Alex would take some pictures and send them to me.”
“Of course,” Alex said.
“Not the same,” Dylan pouted. Cassidy looked at her old friend and winked. Jonathan Krause had quickly become Uncle Pip after Alex’s father’s funeral. It was a relationship that Cassidy oddly welcomed. Dylan had three strong men in his life, Uncle Nick, Uncle Brian, and Uncle Pip. At first, Alex appeared a bit nervous about the bond Dylan seemed to form with her new partner, but Cassidy had watched that fade more and more with each passing day. She looked at Alex and saw the understanding expression in her eyes. With Alex’s absences over the last few months, and the departure of Christopher O’Brien from their everyday lives, Cassidy wondered if Dylan would feel insecure. He had battled some fears, but Alex’s constant reassurance coupled with the presence of male role models that enthusiastically engaged with her son, seemed to ease the majority of Dylan’s anxiety. Cassidy was grateful for that.
“I know it’s not the same, Dylan,” Cassidy spoke up. “When are you leaving?” Cassidy asked her friend.
“Late this evening,” he replied.
“Well, could we entice you to at least stay for breakfast?” Cassidy suggested.
“Depends,” he answered.
“On what?” Alex asked.
“On whether or not you or Cassidy is doing the cooking,” he quipped.
Cassidy covered her mouth to stifle a chuckle as Helen answered. “Alex will not be coming near my stove. My kitchen, my rules.”
Dylan had climbed back into the tall CIA agent’s lap. “Alex makes the best cereal,” he said.
“Really?” Krause asked him with a tickle.
Dylan laug
hed. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?” Krause asked again with another burst of tickles.
“Yes!” Dylan cried through his laughter.
“Well, maybe there is hope for you yet,” Helen smirked at her daughter. Alex rolled her eyes. “Dylan, why don’t you help your mom and me make some pancakes for Alex and your Uncle Pip.”
“Okay,” he happily agreed, taking his YaYa’s offered hand and following her to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” Krause said, looking at the two women before him. “I didn’t want to bother you. I just need to talk to Alex for a few minutes.”
Cassidy sighed and felt Alex’s arm drape around her. “It’s all right. As long as you don’t sweep her away to Beijing or Brussels or wherever you two…”
“No sweeping,” Krause promised.
Cassidy nodded. “And,” she began when she saw Krause’s concerned expression. “And, you promise to come see that tree when you don’t need to talk to Alex.” The surprised expression on her friend’s face amused Cassidy. “You heard Dylan,” she said.
Alex nodded and kissed Cassidy’s head. “I told you,” Alex winked at her partner.
Krause was not used to such sentiments. His only reply was an uncomfortable grin that held the promise that he would comply with Cassidy’s orders. Cassidy shook her head. “I’ll leave you two to do whatever it is you do,” she said. “Don’t let it take longer than those pancakes,” she cautioned. “Helen takes hot food very seriously.”
Alex laughed. “Consider us warned,” she whispered to Krause as Cassidy exited the room.
“Oh, I will,” Cassidy called back. “She’s your mother. I’m not saving either of you if you make her wait.”
Alex shook her head. “She should be a spy. She’d be a secret weapon. She hears everything,” she joked to her partner.
“And don’t you forget it,” Cassidy’s voice called back.
“Never,” Alex laughed. “So,” Alex shifted the playful banter. “Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but….”
“Fallon called last night.” Alex was perplexed. “He called in as Blevins. Said he needed a ride,” Krause explained. Alex took in the information and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Brackett was at the warehouse, Alex.”
Commitment Page 4