Intersection (53 page)

“You’re sure?” Alex asked nervously.

“Yeah,” Brady answered.

Alex nodded to Fallon who promptly picked up the phone on the large desk just as a young Airman walked into their compartment. “Final descent. Captain Abel wanted you to know. You should strap in. We’ll be on the ground in 10 minutes.” Both agents nodded their understanding.

Alex crossed to the seats on the right hand side of the room and took a seat. “Brady?”

“Yeah?” Steven Brady answered stowing his rifle.

“I just….”

“Forget it Toles,” he said. “Listen we’ll figure it out, who’s behind him.”

Alex closed her eyes. She didn’t even want to think about what still needed to happen. Fisher had to have had help faking his own death. This was deep. Right now all the agent could think about was Cassidy. “They’re moving now,” Fallon said.

“Cass?” Cassidy could not speak. The sound of Alex’s voice washed over her and she felt her body tremble. She struggled to keep hold of the phone in her hand. Alex could hear her lover’s labored breathing. “I’m almost there. On the ground. Twenty minutes, okay?”

“How?” Was all the teacher could manage to ask.

“Never mind. Go with the paramedics. I’ll meet you….”

“No. Alex, I’m all right…just come home. Please,” the need in Cassidy’s voice rattled Alex.

The agent closed her eyes. “Ferro says you have some…”

“Alex…” the agent listened as Cassidy’s plea became more insistent.

“Okay, let me talk to the detective. I love you, Cassidy.” Cassidy wanted to answer but she did not want to break down. She handed the phone to the detective with a sad smile.

“Ferro?” Pete Ferro stepped away; glancing first at the cut on the woman’s leg and shaking his head. “Ferro? Is she?”

“She’s just shaken, Agent. None of the injuries are severe. Nothing that needs real attention…just the…”

Alex let out a shaky sigh, “just the trauma.”

“Yeah,” he said sadly.

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Alex said as she exited the aircraft.

“How are you going to make it here in…”

“I have friends. I’ll be there.” Alex hung up and looked at her partner. Fallon immediately noted the worry on his partner’s face. “God, this is all my fault, Fallon.”

“She was quiet,” Fallon guessed. Alex nodded. “It’s not you, Alex. You know that. Let’s just get there, and it’s not your fault.” Alex rubbed her temples. She stepped into the waiting State police car with a respectful tip of her head and picked up the phone again.

“Nicky?”

“Alex… where are you?” Her brother asked.

“I’m ummm…. On my way to Cassidy’s….. Where are you?”

“Almost home,” he answered.

“Can I talk to Dylan?” Alex asked.

“Of course, is…”

“She’s okay.” Alex waited as the phone passed to the small boy. As Dylan’s voice began to break through she heard Nick faintly say “it’s okay,” to Rose.

“Alex?”

“Hey, Speed Racer.”

“Are you coming to Uncle Nick’s?”

The agent fought her emotions. “I am. I have to go get your mom first. Okay? So it will be a while.”

“When?” Dylan asked.

“I’m not sure, you might be in bed.”

“But you are coming?” He asked again, still feeling insecure.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

Dylan finally smiled. “Alex?”

“Yeah, Speed?”

“Why are you sad?” The small boy immediately noted the cracking of the agent’s voice.

Alex let out a slight chuckle. The boy was his mother’s son. “I’m not sad.”

Dylan could still hear the sadness in his hero’s voice and there was only one thing his six your old mind knew to do. “I’ll have the Batcave ready, Alfred,” he said assuredly.

Alex laughed. “Okay, Batman.” His words brought her a genuine sense of happiness and possibility. “I’ll see you at the Batcave.” Fallon looked at his partner curiously. “It’s a thing,” was all she said.

Detective Ferro paced the kitchen slowly and looked at the body. He pushed away a photographer and looked closely at the area. He glanced at the edge of the counter near the sliding glass door and then looked out into the backyard. Ferro slid open the door and started walking off the deck and then down in a straight line into the yard. “What the hell is he doing?” A younger detective asked.

Detective Jeff Scott laughed. “He’s looking for something. Where the shot came from, I would guess.”

Ferro looked left and looked right and repeated the movement several more times. He slowly pivoted on his heels.
Gradually he made his way back toward the house, occasionally looking to his left or right as though he were following something with his eyes. “Oh shit,” he mumbled. “Toles is not gonna’ like this.”

“Congressman, I hope you are feeling well enough for this chat,” Congressman James Stiller greeted. Stiller was a senior congressman from Illinois. For the last four years he had served as the chairman of the House Ways and Means Committee and was widely considered a favorite for the Governorship of the state if he should choose to run. He was a vibrant, intelligent man who had captured the imagination of many of his constituents and was on a short list of names often tossed about as a viable future White House contender. He was also a huge proponent of HR1929; a Trade Bill that would impact the taxable amounts of steel, certain chemicals and other materials that were exported to the European Union, and would limit the amount that the United States would agree to import. It would also tighten security in shipping ports owned or controlled by U.S. interests. Stiller had co-authored the legislation. He would be a tough sell. Convincing the chairman that the proposal set too many dangerous restrictions; restrictions that might harm important alliances strategically would not be easy. O’Brien’s best asset was that he had the president’s ear and that he sat on the House Committee on Foreign Affairs. O’Brien had been a key player in several pieces of legislation on the Subcommittee on Europe, Eurasia, and Emerging Threats.

“I am feeling much better, Jim, thank you. I do apologize about earlier. It’s been a hell of a couple of weeks.”

“I understand. We are hoping to vote next week,” the chairman said.

“I know….but I have to give some caution. These restrictions…”

“Congressman, you and I both know we are importing far more than we are exporting….and you of all people know that what ports are utilized and how much we export must be carefully controlled. The threat of…”

Congressman O’Brien did understand. This resolution would put a stronger emphasis on exports. That was good. The port restrictions and the restrictions on the exports of certain chemicals such as organophosphorus compounds and steel, in favor of increased exports of such substances as liquefied natural gas, however, was a major concern. Combined with measures being taken in France and Great Britain that called for tightening on port security, this resolution severely threatened long standing initiatives to equip underdeveloped governments with certain resources; resources that had already been committed by the Merrow Administration. “Jim, you know I agree, but these measures, combined with the initiative of some of our European partners…Well, the president is concerned. It could seriously compromise our strategic initiatives. And, some of our very important technological relationships.”

Chairman Stiller remained quiet for a moment. “Are you saying you will not support the resolution?”

“As it stands? I would recommend revisions, Jim, so no…I cannot.”

“Hmmm. I thought you were committed to tightening controls?” Stiller questioned.

O’Brien tapped a pencil on his desk. “I am, but not at the expense of long held alliances. I am not suggesting a defeat… just a revamp.”

“Specifically?”

“Why don’t I have Carol send you a draft? Senator Donaldson and I have discussed it. Congressman Treat has already begun a proposal. I can have Carol forward that along.”

“I’m sorry, Chris…could you hold on one moment?” Christopher O’Brien waited. “Chris,” the chairman’s voice had softened. “Have you been contacted yet by the FBI?”

“No, why?”

“Ummm… I just had my chief of staff turn on the news, there’s been some kind of situation at your home, at Cassidy’s….”

Now O’Brien had to think. The congressman did know and if the chairman had any inkling of that fact; he would surely wonder why O’Brien had agreed to this call. “Uhh… I need to go,” O’Brien said. His nervousness was genuine. Suddenly he wondered what had happened.

“Of course. I’ll have Dennis contact Carol. If you need anything, Chris…”

“Thank you,” the congressman said hanging up the call.

“Shit,” he ran his hands through his short hair. “Dammit, Cassie.” He reached for his phone.

The car pulled in front of the large white house. Cherry Circle was inundated with police vehicles and emergency personnel. It was also becoming a media circus. Alex opened the car door and had no control over her body. Fallon tried to keep up, flashing his credentials as his partner’s speed increased with each pace. Alex reached the open front door and was met with a pair of sturdy hands blocking her entry. “Badge?”

“What?” Alex said. Fallon was trying desperately to catch Alex in her short sprint. “Get out of my way,” Alex ordered. The officer moved for his cuffs. Alex’s temper began to flare. “Get the fu…”

“Hey, easy there Kyle,” Ferro appeared. “Come on, Agent,” Fallon shook his head at the detective as he reached his partner.

Alex looked in through the large doorway and saw Cassidy sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket and holding a glass of water. She froze for a moment and closed her eyes. ‘Calm down, Toles,’ she warned her own thoughts. Slowly she made her way to the woman she loved. “Cass?” Cassidy looked over as Alex closed the distance between them. Alex knelt in front
of her and the teacher’s tears fell as a smile of relief washed over her. Gently, Alex took the woman’s face in her hands and Cassidy collapsed into her. The agent had no thought, had no care about who saw the exchanged affection or what anyone might surmise. All that mattered was the woman before her. “Cassidy, I’m sorry. I love you so much. I.. I tried to… I…”

The blonde woman let the blanket fall and pulled back to lift a hand to Alex’s cheek. “
Je savais que vous viendriez
, (I knew you would come),” she whispered to the agent.