Commitment (36 page)

“Who does
that
remind you of?” Alex asked sarcastically and shifted her gaze outside the window.

Krause looked across to Alex and shook his head. He wondered if she would ever realize what a rare commodity she was in the life that they led. He returned his attention to the road as his thoughts turned to the mission they now faced. If they were lucky, they might gain greater insight into Viktor Ivanov’s connections and agenda. Failure would equate to nothing less than their demise. Success, he determined, would be defined in all three returning safely home. Tensions between the United States and Russia were escalating by the minute. Krause was acutely aware that if anyone discovered Eleana was alive she would immediately become a liability.

Krause had arranged to cross the Estonian border into Russia. It was too risky to attempt a border crossing from Belarus or the Ukraine. Advanced Strategic Applications housed its headquarters in Novgorod. Utilizing assets in Estonia was both the safest and most logical plan for a means of exiting Russia once they completed their mission. The attack on the American embassy and Eleana’s presence created complications for Ivanov and opportunities for Krause and Alex. Eleana had extensive knowledge of the inner workings of the Russian government. She was an expert in communications technology, spoke multiple languages, and as Krause had once learned firsthand, Eleana Baros was adept at navigating an unexpected
crisis. He was convinced that he and Alex, with Eleana’s assistance, were the best hope of ever infiltrating ASA on Ivanov’s home turf.

“Alex,” he began, “are you sure you want in on this? Getting in might not be as difficult as getting out.”

Alex turned slowly to her partner. “We’ll get out,” she said assuredly. “I just hope your friend is as good as you seem to think.”

“She is,” he said definitively. “Trust me.”

“I do,” Alex admitted.

“What are you doing here?” Christopher O’Brien asked.

“Not a very friendly greeting,” Claire Brackett responded.

“I’m not feeling all that friendly, Claire,” O’Brien snapped. “What do you want, anyway? Come to gloat? Dimitri send you? You his exterminator; come to snuff out the pest?”

“Clever,” she offered her phony compliment. “No. No one knows I’m here. I was careful.”

“So? What is it then?” he repeated.

“You’re screwed, Christopher,” she chuckled.

“Thank you,” he sniped back.

“No, really. You are. Trust me when I tell you, you are headed right back to the pokey,” Claire laughed in earnest.

“I wouldn’t be so certain,” he responded.

“I would,” she said.

“Are you suddenly a lawyer?” O’Brien asked.

“No. Not at all.” Claire flopped onto his sofa. “Got any wine?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not a very good host, Christopher. I mean, all those years hosting political functions and you haven’t even offered me a drink. That must be what you kept those little blondes for, huh?” she chided.

“Fuck you, Claire.”

“Ooo…not now. And not before wine,” she responded with a wink. “You have two options as I see it.”

“And what might those be?” O’Brien asked.

“Well, you can stay here, drowning your sorrows in that bottle over there…..just waiting for the hammer to fall or…. you can get out of here, someplace safe and comfortable and help me,” she explained.

“What the hell are you talking about?” O’Brien asked skeptically. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Not at all. You see, you and I now have something in common.”

“Enlighten me,” he implored her.

“You are caught in the middle, Congressman. My father, Toles, Krause…they want you out of the picture. Dimitri and Viktor? Well, you have betrayed their trust now too. You are a liability to everyone. They enjoy the suffering, though. They’d rather watch you squirm in insignificance than kill you,” she said as she kicked off her heels and heaved her legs onto the table in front of her.

“And how exactly does that make us alike?” he inquired.

“My father doesn’t trust me. Can’t say I blame him. Toles, Krause…well, they would be more than happy to watch my demise,” Claire said.

“That’s nothing new,” O’Brien observed.

“No. But you see….none of them ever betrayed me. It’s just a game we play. Oh, Agent Toles and my father can delude themselves with a belief in some honorable cause. It’s a game. Pieces on a board, matching strength and wit; nothing more,” she said plainly. “It isn’t personal. Dimitri, that’s….well, all you need to know is that it
is
personal. And, I have every intention of seeing Dimitri and his uncle fall. How much money did you move that they’ve yet to discover?” she asked the congressman. O’Brien offered her a hollow stare in response. “Oh, come on, Christopher. We both know you’ve been moving money for years.”

“What is it you want, Claire?”

“You help me with some creative financing, and I will ensure your needs are met,” she promised.

“My life is here,” he said. “My career, my family…”

“Your career is over. If you are referring to the lovely school teacher, I think you’ve missed the memo. You’re a bigger fool than I thought if you think that’s your family. Your life here is over, Congressman. Your future is a little cell in a big box. Although, you might find new found popularity there,” she laughed.

“You want me to run?” he asked.

Claire Brackett shrugged. “Everyone is running, Congressman. It’s a matter of what they are running from and where they are running to.”

Christopher O’Brien sat in the chair across from his unexpected guest and dropped his face into his hands. He had spent the last two days desperately seeking a bargaining chip. He had devised a multitude of stories and scenarios, but when he stopped to review them every one seemed fruitless. The fact was, his career was over. He would never be able to rebuild any trust with the electorate. Cassidy was gone. She had made that clear. Dylan wanted nothing to do with him. In his mind, he could trace the death spiral of the life he once knew to the day that Agent Alex Toles walked into their lives. He took a deep breath and released it audibly.

“One condition,” he said to the woman before him.

Claire Brackett did nothing to conceal her amusement. “You are hardly in a position to make demands,” she told him. “But, I’m listening.”

“You take out Toles in the process,” he said.

Claire laughed. “Take out Alex?” she shook her head. “You are pathetic. I’ll see what I can do,” she winked.

“When?” he asked.

“Not even curious where?” she questioned him. O’Brien remained silent. “Just be ready. The less you know, the better for us both,” she told him. “Now…about that wine…”

Wednesday, January 21
^st

“I don’t want to go,” Dylan complained.

“Why don’t you want to go to school?” Cassidy asked. Dylan scowled and shrugged. “Dylan?”

“Everybody knows,” he said. “I’m Dylan the villain,” he mumbled.

“What?” Cassidy asked gently as she made her way to him.

“I don’t want to be an O’Brien. Everybody thinks I’m like him,” Dylan said flatly.

Realization dawned on Cassidy. It was not surprising that Dylan was combatting teasing at school. The newspapers and television were smattered with stories about Congressman Christopher O’Brien’s downfall. It was a hot story. Cassidy and Christopher O’Brien were once considered on the short list of couples that would likely claim the White House. While her ex-husband’s popularity had been flung into the sewer, Cassidy’s was soaring. She was becoming more and more America’s darling with each moment that passed. The public had always had an affinity for the attractive, easy going school teacher, and she was being hailed now as the only reason Christopher O’Brien ever made it to the center stage. There was plenty of talk surrounding Cassidy’s marriage to Alex, but the press still insisted on calling her Mrs. O’Brien. She understood Dylan’s frustration. Try as she might, the name just seemed to stick.

“Dylan, honey, I’m sorry. You love school. Don’t let anyone spoil that for you,” she encouraged him.

“Mom, everybody knows! You don’t understand!” he cried in frustration.

Cassidy sighed. “I do understand,” she said as she squatted to meet his eyes. “You tell them you are not an O’Brien, you’re a Toles.”

“But, I’m not a Toles,” he said sadly. “When they call attendance I am in the O’s. Dylan O’Brien.”

Cassidy considered his dilemma carefully. Moments like these she wished for Alex’s presence. When it came to issues about Dylan’s place in the family, a unified front always seemed the most effective. There was more to this than Dylan’s last name; she could feel it. “No matter when they call your name, Dylan, I promise you are as much a Toles as I am.”

Dylan shook his head. “No, I’m not,” he whispered.

“All right,” Cassidy sat Dylan in a chair and knelt beside him. “What is this about?” Dylan shrugged again. “Dylan?”

“You’ll all have the same name,” Dylan said. “I’ll still be Dylan the villain. My brother will be like Alex. Alex is a hero and everybody thinks I’m a bad guy.”

“I see,” Cassidy answered. “Dylan, do you think because you don’t have Alex’s name that means you aren’t a Toles?” When Dylan didn’t answer, Cassidy continued. “You know, I remember when I was your age. I wanted to be a Mackenzie.” Dylan looked up to his mother curiously. “Yeah…my Nana was my best friend in the whole world. She was a Mackenzie, just like Grandma. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters, and all my cousins were Mackenzies. I hated it. I always felt left out.” Cassidy watched as Dylan studied her. “One Sunday I came in the house crying. My cousins had been picking on me. Nana said that no matter what anyone called me I was still a Mackenzie just as much as anyone else. I didn’t believe her though,” Cassidy admitted.

“Because you were an O’Brien?” he asked.

“No Dylan, I was a McCollum. When I married your…well, when I got married I became an O’Brien. And, when I married Alex I decided to become a Toles.”

“But, I can’t be,” he said.

“Dylan, most people still call me Cassidy O’Brien. That’s just how they know me. And, that’s just how they know you, but we are both part of Alex’s family now,” she tried to explain.

“I’ll be the only one and then Alex will love him more.”

Cassidy took hold of both of Dylan’s shoulders and looked squarely in his eyes. “Dylan James, you listen…there could
never be any baby or any person who Alex could love more than you. Never. If I could change your name today I would, and so would Alex. Don’t you ever think because you were born an O’Brien that it means you are any less a part of this family.” He shook his head. “Do you think I am less than your mom because my last name is now Toles?” she asked.

“No,” he replied.

“Okay. Do you think Grandma is less a part of this family because she is a McCollum?” Cassidy asked. Dylan shook his head. “Um. I see. So your brother or sister will be a Toles. That’s true. You have the same parents. You have the same YaYa and cousins and Grandma. Names change in families all the time, sweetheart. It doesn’t change who we are to each other. You are Dylan. You are part of all of those people who love you, and even who loved me and Alex. So, you are a Toles, a Pappas, a McCollum, a Burns, and even a Mackenzie; just as much as you could ever be an O’Brien. And, when you get older you can change your name to anything you want. It won’t change who you are, though. And, it won’t change how much we love you.”

Dylan considered his mother’s words for a few minutes before looking back up to her. “They won’t believe me. That I am a Toles,” he said.

“Well, you let me handle that,” Cassidy winked at him. “Now, come on, let’s get your jacket on and get you ready, Mr. Toles.”

Dylan gave a faint smile. “Sounds weird,” he said. Cassidy chuckled as she zipped his jacket. “Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you still wish you were a Mackenzie?” he asked.

“I am a Mackenzie. Ask Grandma,” Cassidy laughed. “Every day I look in the mirror I see a little bit more of my Nana looking back,” Cassidy giggled.

Dylan was a bit puzzled by his mother’s response as they walked toward the door. Whenever his mother spoke of her grandmother, she always seemed to smile. Cassidy told him many stories about her adventures with her Nana and how she
wished Dylan could have known her. Dylan loved to look at pictures with Cassidy and listen to her tales. He never thought about being anything but an O’Brien until he met Alex. It was just who he was. Now it just didn’t fit. He didn’t even look like his father. In fact, he had heard his Grandma say many times that he looked a lot like her mother, Nana Mackenzie. It gave him an idea. “Mom,” he said as he tugged at her coat.