Commitment Page 22

“Yes, Alex, it is,” Cassidy said. “It might be a play that is happening on a different stage, but it is the same plot. Something was more important than you to a person who you thought was your friend. Just like something was always more important to Chris than Dylan and me. Something is more important to you now than the cases you solve. You can’t lock away your heart because people will disappoint you. If you feel you can trust Pip; trust him. You trusted him enough to bring him into this family. He trusted you enough to follow.” Alex sighed. “Your mother told me that you often remind her of your father,” Cassidy said cautiously.

  “I’m not my father,” Alex responded a bit more aggressively than she intended.

  Cassidy took it in stride, undaunted in her mission to reach her wife. “No, I’m sure in many ways you are not. She was talking about commitment. He had obligations to many things, Alex; just like you. There is no excuse for what you told me tonight. I’m not saying there is. But, what would you tell our children? If they were afraid to trust? If they were hurting?”

  Alex laid her head back on Cassidy’s chest and smiled. “That’s why you are the mom,” Alex said lovingly.

  “Alex, you are a mom too.”

  “I know. But, you are like everyone’s mom,” Alex said proudly.

  “What does that mean?” Cassidy asked.

  “Like just now. I wouldn’t know what to say; not like you just did.”

  Cassidy took a deep breath and looked down at Alex. “That’s not true.”

  “Sure it is,” Alex said, snuggling closer.

  “No. It isn’t. I heard you in there with Dylan. What did you say to him?” Cassidy asked. Alex shifted uncomfortably. “You told him that sometimes people hurt us, not even knowing they are doing it. It’s not okay. It is okay that he is hurt and angry, but deep down that’s because he trusted his father,” Cassidy repeated the gist of Alex’s conversation with Dylan. “And then, you told him that somewhere deep down his father loves him and to remember the times that they went to the beach, or played catch in the yard and to hold onto that.” Cassidy smiled and pulled Alex closer. “You should take your own advice, Alex. Whatever happens, hang onto the good stuff. It always gets you through.”

  “How did you get so insightful?” Alex asked.

  “I didn’t tell you anything you didn’t already know. You just needed to hear someone else say it,” Cassidy said with a kiss.

  “Is that what you do?” Alex asked curiously, pulling herself up to look in Cassidy’s eyes.

  “What do you do? When you are upset, off course; how do you get through it? What did you think about today on your way home?” Cassidy turned the question back on Alex.

  Alex smiled. “I thought about Dylan dancing around on New Year’s Eve telling everyone about his sidekick,” Alex chuckled.

  “See? Good stuff,” Cassidy winked at her wife.

  “Yeah, I guess there is,” Alex admitted. “Thanks,” she said. Cassidy tipped her head in confusion. “You know for what,” Alex laughed, answering her wife’s unspoken question. “Sometimes I don’t know what I did without you.”

  “You ate a lot of junk food for one thing,” Cassidy recalled.

  “I took a lot of risks,” Alex admitted honestly. “I won’t make those mistakes now.”

  “Yes, love; you will. It’s part of who you are,” Cassidy said.

  “Cass, I promise you, I would never run into…”

  “I’ve told you before, don’t make promises you can’t keep, Alex. I fell in love with Alexis Toles. That’s who I want to grow old with, but I accepted the risks that come with that when I married you. Just remember there is good stuff waiting for you here. That’s all I ask,” Cassidy said honestly.

  Alex nodded and kissed Cassidy tenderly. “You’ll never know how much you mean to me,” Alex whispered, her eyes growing heavy.

  “I do know. It’s been a long day,” Cassidy said as she felt Alex’s body wrap around her. “Enjoy this while it lasts,” she laughed. “A few months and you’ll be lucky to fit beside me.”

  “Good stuff,” Alex mumbled.

  “Yes, it is.”

  Friday, January 16th

  leana,” Ambassador Russ Matthews greeted his friend. “Ambassador,” Eleana returned his pleasantries.

  “I confess I am surprised to see you in Moscow now. I thought you were traveling,” he said.

  “I was,” she replied.

  “Still residing in Belarus?” he asked.

  “It serves my purposes,” Eleana explained.

  “Ah, and what is the purpose of today’s visit?” the ambassador wondered.

  “I had company for Christmas,” she began. The ambassador looked at her curiously. “It was Claire,” Eleana told him.

  “I see. Fishing for information I assume?” the ambassador guessed.

  “Yes. I gave her the original dates for the diplomatic team to arrive,” she said.

  “Eleana, I appreciate your loyalty, but compromising yourself with Claire Brackett….we both know that I’m a target. You can’t change that now,” he told her.

  Eleana Baros regarded Russ Matthews as more than a colleague; he was a friend. “Russ,” she took his hand. “Claire will never suspect me of disloyalty.”

  “Did she say anything else?” Matthews asked.

  “Specifically, no. Claire says a great deal without needing many words,” Eleana sighed.

  “You care for her,” the ambassador surmised.

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “And yet you are here,” Russ Matthews shook his head. “Eleana, don’t put yourself on the fence. Believe me they will discover you far more quickly.”

  Eleana moved to sit beside her friend. “I am not on any fence. I made my choice. I will not be a traitor to it,” she assured him.

  “You realize that when those cars arrive here, we will become a sitting target,” the ambassador said assuredly. He pulled himself up and paced around the room slowly. “It is an inevitability, Eleana. I sat on that fence too long before I made my choice. I should have listened to John much sooner. If your father finds out that you…”

  “He will. Sooner or later; he will,” she said.

  “He will never forgive us for allowing you to become involved,” Ambassador Matthews said.

  “I don’t need my father’s permission, so you need no absolution. You and I both know that if Viktor Ivanov gets his way ASA will slowly run the table on an oil monopoly among other things. He’s already embedded ASA in Libya, Syria, Yemen, and Pakistan, not to mention his interests in Asia and Central America. He is greedy and ruthless. John saw that. I see it. My father knows it. I cannot turn away from that,” she told her friend.

  “You do know Claire is in their fold?” he asked her.

  Eleana nodded. “I love Claire, Russ. God help me; I do. I have since we were in grade school. She broke her commitment to that long ago. It forced me to live my life, away from Claire. I may love her, but she has never loved me. She is too preoccupied with proving herself to love anyone. I spent years trying to change her. In the end, I only could change myself. Claire made her choice,” she said softly.

  “Are you prepared to,” Matthews began to ask his friend the ultimate question. Could Eleana take Claire Brackett’s life if it became necessary? He stopped when he saw the anguish in her eyes.

  “I lost her a long time ago, if I ever even had her,” Eleana admitted. “But, the answer is I don’t know. If it were between you and Claire; if it were between anyone and Claire; could I pull the trigger? I’ve asked myself that question a million times these last few weeks. I don’t know.”

  Ambassador Matthews nodded. “You are far too honest for this life, Eleana,” he complimented her. “Your father was wise to keep you at bay for so long. I understand.” The ambassador made his way to a small window and watched for the approaching vehicles. “Any word on that Cesium?” he asked her.

  “It crossed the border yesterday, traveling north.”

  “Toward us,”
he concluded.

  “In all probability; yes,” she confirmed.

  “God help us,” Matthews’ voice dropped an octave.

  Eleana crossed to the window. “Perhaps we have more time than you think,” she suggested.

  He turned to face her when a whirling sound distracted him. “Eleana!”

  “Do you want to know?” Alex turned to her wife from the driver’s seat.

  Cassidy stroked the back of Alex’s hand absently with her thumb. “I don’t know. Part of me does. Part of me would rather it be a surprise. What about you?”

  Alex had been thinking a great deal about Cassidy’s pregnancy and the arrival of a new person into their lives. Before Cassidy, the idea of parenthood seemed preposterous at best to Alex. Babies were not something that she spent much time daydreaming about over the years. The majority of her close friends had been men, and they rarely discussed their wives’ pregnancies in any detail. Alex had been so surprised to hear the baby’s heartbeat that when Cassidy’s doctor asked if they had discussed the question of determining the baby’s gender; Alex deferred immediately to Cassidy to answer. “I think whatever you want is fine,” Alex finally responded.

  “I think we should make this decision together,” Cassidy corrected her wife.

  “I wonder why she asked that today,” Alex inquired.

  “Just making conversation I would suspect,” Cassidy said. “Getting to know us. That’s all. We have time, Alex. She didn’t expect an answer today.”

  “Just out of curiosity; why wouldn’t you want to know?” Alex asked.

  Cassidy chuckled. “Oh, well…I don’t know. I suppose an element of surprise gives me something to look forward to during those few hours that come before.”

  Alex was slightly puzzled. “But, wouldn’t you still be curious? I mean, about what he will look like and all that?”

  “Wrinkly,” Cassidy laughed. “Honestly, I always laugh when babies are first born; how people say they look just like someone in the family. They look like babies.” Cassidy looked across to Alex and had to bite down on her lip at the look of consternation on her wife’s face. She squeezed Alex’s hand gently. “I’m kidding. Of course, I would still be curious.”

  Alex sighed in relief as she pulled into the garage. “Do you think you can make your appointments for Fridays?” she asked Cassidy. “I don’t want to miss any,” Alex said. “What if I miss something important like your ultrasound? I don’t want to just see his picture.”

  “His?” Cassidy asked. “What is it with you and Dylan anyway? What makes you so sure it’s a him?”

  “I don’t know. Just seems like I should say him,” Alex explained.

  “I see,” Cassidy grinned. “Well, I’ll see what I can do about Fridays. You need to stop worrying, though. You are not going to miss anything important; I promise. There will be lots of appointments,” Cassidy said as they made their way toward the house.

  “Yeah, and I intend to be at all of them,” Alex said pointedly as she opened the door for Cassidy.

  “Will you take stirrup duty for me too?” Cassidy turned back to her wife.

  “Only if…” Alex immediately stopped their banter at the sight of Rose in front of the door. The older woman’s jaw was set firmly, and the dismay in her eyes startled Alex.

  Cassidy watched Alex’s playful expression fade rapidly from view. “Alex?”

  Rose swallowed her apprehension. “Dylan is upstairs in his room,” she said as Cassidy turned to face her. “I….Alex…”

  “Mom?” Cassidy implored.

  Rose shook her head. “Maybe you should just see for yourself.”

  “Mr. President, we need to move to the Situation Room.”

  President Lawrence Strickland followed his entourage through the halls of the White House on a familiar course. “What do we know?” he asked.

  “Not much,” General Michael Snyder responded. “One of our people called in about ten minutes ago. The message was interrupted, but it appears that the embassy in Moscow has been attacked.”

  The president calmly took his seat in the large room and waited for his aides to assume their positions. There was a definite advantage in having foreknowledge of such events. The president was able to react in a controlled and deliberate manner. Everyone expected the presence of a confident and secure leader and Lawrence Strickland intended to personify that now. “Everything we know; now,” he directed.

  “Sir,” the general stood and directed everyone’s attention to the large screen at the front of the room. Images of a smoking building immediately came into focus. “This is what we have so far.”

  “Where are our satellite images, General Snyder?” the president asked. Within seconds, the screens hanging at either side of the room depicted satellite imagery. “So?” the president asked pointedly. “Are we confirmed? Is it the embassy?”

  “Yes, sir. Unfortunately, it is,” a voice responded.

  The president leaned forward on his elbows, studying the faces that surrounded him. “Responsible party?” he asked.

  “Still undetermined, Mr. President. No one has claimed responsibility. It does appear that the building was hit from an exterior force,” General Snyder offered.

  “Meaning?” Strickland asked.

  “Meaning there was no bomb in the building itself. We are pulling up satellite data and telemetry now. There were no planes in the area. It’s a no-fly zone. So, we are looking at some type of short-range missile in all likelihood, or some combination of…”

  “I don’t want speculation, people!” President Strickland bellowed. “I want answers. Get Secretary Johnson and Mr. Mansfield here now.”

  “Already on their way,” a voice answered.

  “Jason, get President Markov on the line,” Strickland ordered. “Now!” The president stroked his chin in thought. He watched as his advisers ran about, carrying out his demands in a flurry. Inwardly, he began to gloat. This tragedy would be a small price to pay for the ultimate reward; to lead the nation through crisis. “What about the news?”

  The large screen changed abruptly to several inset images of national newscasts. “Bob!” President Strickland called to his press secretary. “Start preparing a statement. I want it ready for my review when I am done with President Markov,” he said. “Do we know?” Strickland turned back to the full table. “Do we know who was in the embassy at the time?”

  “Sir,” the president’s chief of staff began softly. “Yes, sir. As of now, it appears fifteen Americans, six Russian workers, and a Spanish national.”

  “What about the envoy?” the president asked. A team of ten men and women with expertise ranging from Russian culture to economics had been scheduled to arrive at the embassy in Moscow that afternoon.

  “We don’t know,” General Snyder answered.

  “We can see someone picking watermelon seeds from their teeth, General! What do you mean you don’t know? Did they arrive or didn’t they?” the president’s voice reverberated off the walls.

  “They left the airstrip. If they arrived at the embassy, they had not signed in…”

  “Jesus Christ!” President Strickland slammed a hand on the table. “Find out. We can’t wait to issue this statement. I don’t want this screwed up!”

  “Mr. President,” a youthful voice called. “President Markov is on the line.”

  “Thank you, Dan,” President Strickland said calmly as she headed for the small office set aside for his use. “When I am done I want that statement in my hands, and I want some damn answers. I don’t want to rely on Yegor Markov’s word. Understood?” he asked. The room remained silent, all eyes on the president. “Good,” Strickland said as he entered the small room.

  “Successful?” Viktor Ivanov asked, looking at the screen.

  “It appears so,” Dimitri Kargen answered.

  “Excellent. What of Kabinov and Markov?” Ivanov asked. “Are they prepared to make the accusation?”

  “The statement will be issued shor
tly,” Kargen said.

  “Viktor,” a man’s voice broke through the speaker. “Be cautious. You move too quickly with these assertions, and you will become cannon fodder yourself.”

  “Calm down, Michael,” Ivanov responded. “Things are in line as we predicted and planned.”

  “There is one unforeseen complication,” Dimitri Kargen interrupted the conversation.

  “What complication?” Ivanov asked hesitantly.

  Dimitri Kargen scratched his brow with his thumb and winced slightly as he delivered the news. “Eleana Baros was visiting the embassy.” Viktor Ivanov’s face flushed a deep crimson. Dimitri could see the quivering in his uncle’s temples as Viktor Ivanov’s rage mounted.

  Ivanov took a step closer to his nephew. “Are you telling me that Edmond Callier’s daughter was in that building when it blew?”

  “Jesus!” Michael Taylor’s voice called through the open line.

  “Zamolchi, Teylor! Eto nepriyemlemo! Nepriyemlemo, Dmitriy! (Be quiet, Taylor! Unacceptable! Unacceptable, Dimitri)!” Ivanov scolded both men. “Callier is already problematic thanks to Sparrow!”

  “Uncle Viktor,” Dimitri began. “There was no way to prevent that…”

  “Menia ne interesujut tvoi opravdanija! (I am not interested in your excuses)!” Ivanov blared. “Michael, you will see that this story is weaved correctly through that imbecile you call your president.”

  Michael Taylor could not help but snicker slightly at the statement. He had no use for President Strickland. Taylor saw Strickland as a marionette whose strings were being pulled by anyone and everyone who offered the slightest praise, threat, or perceived opportunity. He knew that Strickland was intelligent and well connected, but Taylor also understood that Lawrence Strickland epitomized weakness. The president had no principles, no larger goal than his continually polishing his image. He was a politician, not a leader. For men like Michael Taylor, President Lawrence Strickland was little more than a fly that needed to be swatted. “I will ensure Strickland’s compliance,” he said. “But, Viktor,” Taylor cautioned his friend. “I can do little about Edmond Callier.”