Do What You Have To

by Penn O'Hara

Frank answers Cody's challenge and another insight into Frank's past prompted by the little guy still determined to get the big guy to bite.

"Do What You Have To"

…

Frank answers Cody's challenge and another insight into Frank's past prompted by the little guy still determined to get the big guy to bite.

Post 'Teddy-C' Episode.

Usual UC Disclaimers apply.

…

Cody lifted his head from the keyboard, the blank monitor screen mirroring his haggard face. It was more pinched than usual, his mouth down-turned and his usually tight curls were flattened on his head from repeated hand-swiping. That last assignment had been a tough one.

When Jake and Alex had been ordered to strip, effectively removing not only the primary 'Cody-bugs' in their underwear, but also the secondary units in Alex's jewellery, he'd gone blind in what was one of their most challenging undercover stings yet. He, Monica and Donovan had sweated in the van for three hours feeling useless, wondering what their agents were enduring, before Frank had ordered them back to the Nest.

Bad scenario in any book and a harrowing one to live through. Cody had forgone any further prodding of Donovan's stone exterior, even going so far as to regret his earlier sniping in the van, before they went blind.

But now the assignment was over. The great Teddy C, UC extraordinaire, was behind bars, put there by Donovan, who had watched and rewatched the surveillance video of the explosion until Cody had lost count and almost told him to 'freakin' rewind and play the damned thing' himself. But Frank had finally seen what everyone else had missed. When the car had exploded, it had been empty. Teddy C's death staged by the man himself and another cop gone bad.

Cody pushed his keyboard away and swung round to touch base with the others. He was sure they'd be feeling as drained as he, maybe worse. Jake and Alex were drinking coffee, leaning against the rack of screens in the briefing area where they pored over surveillance and orientation videos daily. Alex looked like she could do with a cigarette – a whole packet of them. Jake appeared shell-shocked too. They both had stared down the wrong end of a gun barrel several times during this coup in order to beat the master at his game.

And Donovan hadn't even suspected.

The big guy was sitting at the long table with Monica, who was typing on her laptop, probably case notes. Donovan was sitting forward on his castored chair, one hand dangling across a knee, the other stroking his chin, shoulders hunched, deep in thought.

Cody wondered if Frank had feared for Alex and Jake that night. He sent them into difficult situations every time, but that night they had been particularly exposed. They were up against the best of the best, the pro that had beaten Teddy C. Or so they had thought. And the agents had been vulnerable throughout, stripped of their tracking and monitoring devices along with their clothes. It had been a lot to ask. Did Donovan expect more of his agents then he himself was prepared to give?

"Hey, boss! Ever had to walk naked into the lion's den like Alex and Jake did?" Cody asked. He spoke without thinking, but once it was said, he realised he needed to know the answer.

Donovan's head came up in that hawk-like way he had, pinning his prey to the ground before swooping.

Monica stopped typing and frowned at Cody. "If this is your way of breaking the ice..."

It was true Cody had wanted to relieve the tense silence that had settled over them, but he was also interested if their boss had any idea what it felt like to be in the field. "Hey! I just wanna know that our fearless leader knows what it's like to do what we do every day... if he's been there, done that..."

"When was the last time you stripped for the job, Cody?" Jake scoffed.

"Well, I mean, you guys did. You know what I mean. Well, boss?" Cody wasn't going to let it go.

Donovan straightened and Cody suffered the mask the man habitually wore, expressionless except for the dark eyes, alive with an untouchable interest. "This is important?" Donovan asked.

"It's all about what I explained earlier," Cody said, feeling he had something on him at last. "Communication. Sharing. Showing us what's inside…what makes the man."

"You want to swap war stories?" Donovan pulled his chin back in disbelief.

"We want to know if you went through what you put us through." Cody looked around at the others for support. "Don't we?"

Monica shrugged, pursing her lips. Jake fidgeted and gave a half-laugh as if not sure of the advisability of Cody's pushing their boss' buttons, but Alex was watching Donovan carefully, her ice-blue gaze interested in the response. They were all curious about Donovan, but the others didn't bother to push him like Cody dared, as if they were afraid of what they would awaken. Alex wasn't afraid of him though and Cody suspected the two were developing a bond. Not sexual, but more like kindred spirits recognising each other.

"Yes," Alex said, standing up straighter. "I think we do. Did you ever have to subject yourself to the uncertainty of being in a position like we were the other night? Vulnerable, physically and mentally, ignorant of your fate and wondering if you could pull yourself through it alive?"

Donovan turned his gaze on Alex and Cody frowned at the compassion he thought he saw there. Could it be possible? The ice-man had feelings and showed them, even briefly, maybe unguardedly.

Frank raised his chin as if testing the air, then shrugging, stretched himself back into the chair. "I know what it's like," he said slowly, quietly, "to be at the mercy of others. To live by your wits, to not know if you will be alive tomorrow."

Cody waited for more and when it didn't come, he prompted for more. "Specifics. We need details. We need to know that you've been in their…" he waved at hand toward Jake and Alex "…shoes."

"Alex?" Donovan looked hard at her and again Cody got the feeling that the two had a comfort zone that the others weren't privy to.

"Please," Alex said, staring back.

Donovan worked his jaw and looked down at his hands. "In '92," he began, "in San Vicente del Caguan…I was working with the Columbian military…collecting data on guerrilla movements in the demilitarized zone for the CIA with the Columbian Government's approval. There was a skirmish…one of many…and I was separated from the main army garrison. I had to make my own way but I was captured by the very guerrillas I was observing…not hard to do, considering they knew the area around San Vicente like their back yard. It was their back yard..."

He paused, but no one said anything. No one was willing to break the spell. Cody was impressed. This was the first time Donovan had ever strung more than three sentences together, and never insight into his earlier work. Monica had closed her laptop and Jake and Alex had moved to the end of the table and taken seats.

Donovan's gaze dropped briefly on them all and Cody wondered if he had already regretted saying that much. Closing his eyes, Donovan gave himself a minute to consider. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he continued.

"My hastily devised cover as a wandering tradesman seeking work wherever I could get it was perceived with suspicion. There was no way for them to verify I was who I said I was…so they had no option but to kill me or take me prisoner..."

"But…" Cody found it difficult to believe the guerrillas hadn't opted for the first option. There would have been no use for him as a prisoner. Even leverage would have been minimal in such an isolated area. Of what value could Donovan have been?

Frank speared him with a look. "Around that time, the FARC was already twenty percent female; it's now up to forty percent. I had no value to them dead or alive," he said mirroring Cody's thoughts, "but was taken back to their base site and given to the women for sport…stripped so that my clothes could be added to their store…and my shoulders tied to a branch yoke. I was chained to a tree by day while the women trained with the men, and then I was harassed at night as a diversion."

Cody swallowed the lump in this throat. He didn't want to ask what form the diversion took. He didn't need to. All eyes were on Frank, but their boss was looking through them, past them, no doubt back in Colombia and the rebel's base.

"I had no sense of how long I was with them until I escaped," Donovan said, his voice picking up pitch and speed. "Days became weeks and weeks melded into months. I had nothing to occupy my mind except planning ways to escape; all of which were thwarted." He leaned forward in his chair and hunched his back. "I was beaten for my efforts more times than I can remember, but I still kept trying." Donovan looked at each one in turn, his mouth set in a grim line. "Shall I go on?"

"You eventually succeeded," Monica said quietly, nodding encouragement.

"Only with help."

"One of the women took pity on you and let you go," Alex ventured.

"That would make it a nice ending, Alex," he said, his voice clipped and Cody heard bitterness punch through. "No part of my experience there was nice."

"What happened?" Jake asked.

"The field commander became jealous; considered his woman, his sub-commander, was getting too attached to me and not giving him enough. He wanted me killed."

Donovan was watching Jake now and his next words seem directed right at him. "Like in all hierarchy," Donovan continued, "the dirty work gets handed down the line." He smiled, but there was no amusement in it and Jake didn't react.

"He gave the job to his sub-commander. Her orders were to execute me in the jungle – they didn't believe in soiling their own yards – but she let her guard down and I was able to overpower her."

Alex's coffee cup clattered on the table, catching Cody's attention. She looked stricken and Frank was avoiding her gaze now. All their gazes. Cody shrank into his seat. What had Frank been enduring for his captor to let her guard down?

Donovan closed his eyes. "I'm not proud of what happened."

Cody felt a reluctant sense of avaricious expectation.

"It was a fight to the death," Donovan said, so quietly that Cody had to strain to hear the rest. "I was weakened by my months of captivity and had to fight dirty. It was kill or be killed." His hands flexed in his lap. "I buried her…fired one shot from the rifle into the air so that her superior would think she had fulfilled the order and then plunged into the undergrowth and disappeared…finding my way back to the Columbian army three days later."

Donovan stretched back in his chair and Monica, eyes wide, moved her hand toward him, then changed her mind and pulled back. Donovan looked around at each of them in turn. "Does that make me qualified to send my agents into the field with a clear conscience?"

Cody nodded vigorously, conscious his mouth was open and eyes staring. He'd got a lot more than he bargained for. Jake and Alex stirred and were going through the motions of making more coffee while Monica carefully opened her laptop to stare at the screen. Donovan swiped his face with the palms of his hands as if in weariness or maybe to cleanse the feelings the recount of his past had stirred in him.

Cody recognised that the last couple of days had been hard on Frank. Teddy C and the boss had been close. So close, Frank had been the one to give the eulogy at Teddy's funeral. A sham of a funeral for a man who wasn't dead. But now, who might as well be. And to make matters worse, Cody had sniped at him in the ops van. The whole thing felt trivial now.

"We have communication issues," Cody had said, getting up from the chair that fronted the surveillance screens. He'd walked over to Donovan, confronting the man while his agents were waiting for Dubinsky's henchmen to arrive. "Our relationship consists of... 'Cody, do this...', 'Cody, patch me into that...'. I think you've got more inside of you than that. You know what I'm after?" Cody had poked Frank in the chest. "The guy in here. Second. I feel unchallenged. I can use a worthy adversary. I'm like Magic Johnson, without Larry Bird."

Frank had been distracted by the arrival of Dubinsky's goons; perhaps fortunately for Cody. He barely reacted except to look at Cody as if he were a fly hovering in front of him. And then they'd gone blind and Jake's and Alex's safety was the only item on the agenda.

"This assignment was hell," Donovan added, dropping his head to stare at his linked fingers.

For all of Cody's enjoyment of needling Frank at any opportunity, he felt sorry for the guy. Friends were a rare commodity in this business. Cody wanted to reach out to Donovan somehow, now that he had opened the door a chink, but didn't quite know what to say. Only quips came to mind.

"Hey, boss! Think of it this way: you haven't lost a friend, but gained a source on the inside."

It was bad - he knew it - to refer to the Teddy C debacle like that, but it got his boss out of his funk. Donovan's head came up and Cody bore the brunt of Frank's specialty – a look that could not only kill, but flay alive. The big guy was on his feet and advancing, his long, flowing stride making no sound on the floorboards. Cody was at a disadvantage being smaller and still sitting, but he was riveted to the spot. He was in for it now. He swung his chair around and pulled his keyboard forward, his fingers dancing on the keys as he pulled up a monitoring project he'd been working on.

"Cody."

His fingers froze. First the dagger eyes, then the steel blade voice.

"Yeah, boss?" He hunched his shoulders and wouldn't look around. He generally didn't when the crap was about to hit the fan.

"Let's take this outside."

"Er, it's kinda chilly outside..."

"Try stripping and going for a joy-ride," Alex said, amused at his discomfort. She was no help. She wasn't even taking Donovan seriously. But then she didn't have him at her back; his threat almost a tangible thing.

"Actually, it's quite a…balmy night," Monica added, spoiling his argument.

"Outside." One word from the big guy. That's all it usually took.

Cody snapped his teeth together. "Look," he said, finally swinging around, holding out a hand to ward off the inevitable. "We can talk about this, can't we? I didn't mean it. I was just, you know, filling in the silence. Shooting the breeze. It's what I do. Fill the pregnant pauses, lighten the moment, relieve the boredom..."

"Looks like we've got communication issues again," Donovan said. He was throwing Cody's words back into his face.

Cody scoped the others. "Guys? I can use some help here."

Jake and Alex merely smiled, Monica shrugged and Cody didn't appreciate the amusement in her eye.

"Guys!" Jake and Alex's attitude he could understand. They probably thought it was time someone else took the heat, but Monica mostly sat on the sidelines with him; she should come to his rescue. "Monica?"

"Man issues," she said, and resumed keying into her laptop.

Donovan walked to the Nest's exit doors and waited.

Cody knew better than to keep Frank waiting long. Reluctantly hauling himself out of the chair, Cody shot a last-ditch look at his so-called friends and dragged his feet toward Donovan, who stepped aside to let him pass.

"We are not to be disturbed," Donovan ordered.

Cody gulped.

…

The door shut on Cody and Frank and Alex's smile broadened into a grin. Poor Cody. She didn't really fear for him. Above all else, Frank was fair. Whatever he had planned for the younger man would be for his own, and the team's, good.

She moved off to the small kitchenette and emptied her coffee dregs that had gone cold and, feeling the tension in her muscles, rolled her shoulders to loosen it. That had been one hell of a story. She'd guessed Frank had seen a lot in his career, but had no idea what form those experiences had taken. None of the team had, and although it had to be hard for their boss, she was glad he had opened up, given them something of himself.

"Thanks, Alex," Jake grinned, following her to the sink and handing her his cup to wash.

"Hey! Just because you got to see me nekkid, doesn't mean I've turned into your kitchen hand," she said, batting his cup away.

"And you have nothing to be ashamed of," he charmed.

"You don't have a bad bod, either," Alex smiled, giving in. Jake would do almost anything to get out of anything domestic. "When do you work out? I haven't seen you in the gym much."

"Everyday," he boasted. "I got my own weights."

So did Frank, Alex thought. His body wouldn't be difficult to look at either. A smile curved her lips at the thought.

"That was some story, eh?" Jake said.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I figure it's only the tip of the iceberg though. Reckon he'll give us some more insights?"

"Hard to tell. That's up to you, anyway," he said as he walked off.

"What do you mean?"

He was on his way to the front door. "I'm convinced it was your chipping in that convinced him. You and Frank got something going, eh?"

"Don't be ridiculous. We connect, but not on that level. Where're you going, anyway?"

He had his hand on the doorknob but didn't turn it. "Maybe not," he said and moved across to the front windows instead.

"Maybe not what?" Monica asked, looking up from her laptop.

"Frank said not to disturb. I ain't disturbing, but I still wanna know what's going on." He stared out the windows at the front lot where they parked their cars. "Can't see a damned thing…it's too dark. Wasn't it supposed to be a full moon round about now?"

"There's cloud cover," Monica said, going back to her computer.

Jake turned back to Alex. "Whaddya think they're doin' out there?"

"Whatever it is," Alex said, heading back toward Monica, "Cody deserves it. He's always pushing Frank's buttons. It's about time he got his."

Alex peered over Monica's shoulder at the laptop. Spotting the official Agency logo on the screen, her gaze sharpened. "What's this?"

"I've pulled up every CIA, FBI, ATF file on Agents who served in Columbia," said Monica, "and not found Frank's name on any of them."

"Maybe he made it up," Jake said, walking back to them.

Monica shook her head. "No way. Not him. It's just not something he would do."

"Even for the sake of shock value? It sure worked. It gave me the chills."

"I doubt it." Alex was watching the names on the screen roll upward. "A man like that doesn't have to prove a thing. How about an alias?"

"Very possible," Monica agreed, looking up at her. "If that's the case, I'm wasting my time."

"What's it say about female guerrillas in the FARC? Are there as many as he said?"

Monica keyed in a search and sat back as the data flashed onto the screen. "Yep. 'Thirty to forty percent of the combat force'," she read. "When did Frank say he was there?"

"Ninety-something…"

Monica scanned the data again. "'Mid-1997, one-in-five FARC guerrillas were women'," she read. "That's twenty percent, like he said."

"It's still a bit vague to find confirmation," Alex said, straightening, "and if he used an alias, it would be impossible to verify. I wouldn't bother. I believe him." She shuddered. It was because of the content that she did believe him. He wouldn't have made something like that up, even to shock them. It was too personal.

"Did you notice the way he felt uncomfortable in the chair when he talked about the beatings?" Monica asked.

"Sure did," Alex nodded. "Like the chair was hurting his back. I wonder if he's still got the scars."

"There's one way of finding out," Jake said, throwing himself into the chair beside Monica and grinning at both of them. "Ask him to take his shirt off."

Alex felt like smacking him. "As if," she said. "I can just see it now. I shimmy up to him and say, 'Hey, Frank, take off your shirt, I wanna see your back.' And he's going to say, 'Sure, Alex, anything you say.' Then he's going to rip off his shirt and let us look our fill."

"In our dreams," Monica said.

Jake was shaking his head. "No. You gotta work around it. Surely a guy doesn't have to tell a woman how to manipulate men. I thought you were born to it." He put on a look of mock gravity. "But if I come up with an idea, I'll let you know."

Alex moved around the table and took the seat beside him, folding her hands on the table's surface. "Thanks a lot." She rested her chin on her hands, thinking back to what Frank had said. "I thought maybe one of the women would have softened toward him. I don't like to think one of my sex could do that to a person, 'specially on a long-term basis."

Monica nodded. "I know, but they believe in their cause. Their struggle for what they conceive as freedom. It's also a matter of survival to them."

"Yeah," Jake said. "Like Frank said, 'kill or be killed'. Hey, whaddya think happened that his executioner let her guard down?"

Alex's head came up sharply.

"You're kidding me?" Monica eyed him in disbelief.

Alex suspected Cody also had missed the significance of Frank's inability to tell that part impersonally, but she didn't realise it had gone over Jake's head as well.

Jake was looking at both of them, his smile fading into confusion. "What'd I say?"

"Didn't you work it out?" Monica asked.

"Work out what?"

Alex smiled gently, humouring him. "She took advantage of him. Wanted one for the road. Get it?"

Jake still looked confused; then the penny dropped. He swallowed hard. "Can women do that?"

"Want to find out?" Monica asked, grinning.

"Er, no thanks. I'll take your word for it." He dropped his eyes.

"It couldn't have been easy for him. That, and to kill her, I mean," Alex said, putting her chin back onto her hands. She had taken several lives already but it had always been in a gun fight or when her life, or one of the team's, had been on the line. It had been no different for Frank then.

"Who's kiddin who now?" said Jake. "The man's got no feelings. He'd take a life as sure as look at you and forget it five minutes later."

Monica shook her head. "I don't think so. I think every life he wastes, diminishes him. Makes him feel he failed that he couldn't prevent it somehow…find a better solution. And when something goes wrong…it's the same thing." She closed down the laptop. "You should have seen how antsy he was when you and Jake lost your tracking devices. He was so unfocussed he didn't even shut down Cody when our boy genius was at his most inappropriate and annoying. I could have smacked Cody for him, but Donovan..." She shook her head. "... didn't even notice."

Alex rocked her chin on her hand. "I think you're right. He would blame himself for a defection as well." She straightened in her seat, stretching. "Teddy C being the prime example. Teddy was his friend. A good friend should have known…seen the signs and helped him get past it. Frank has to be flaying himself right now."

"Well, maybe Cody is the one getting flayed right now," Jake pointed out. "They've been out there for a while now and I haven't heard a thing. I'd like to know what's going on."

Monica shrugged. "Someone could go out there. On the pretext that there's a phone call."

"And they conveniently hang up when Donovan comes in?" Jake scoffed.

"If you got a better idea..."

"Come on," Alex said, standing and pushing her chair back. "We go out en masse with no excuse, except to say, 'what's holding you guys up?' What's he going to do? Take us all on?"

"You first," Jake said, getting to his feet and sweeping a hand out in front of her.

Alex gave him a scathing look. "Coward!" She glanced at Monica. "Coming?"

"Okay, I'm game. I know better to disturb him if he says not to, but you're right…he can't take us all down."

Alex was heading toward the front door, but turned with a smile. "Not at once anyway."

"Whaddya think we're gonna find?" Jake asked, his face lit with anticipation.

"A bloody fist-fight, I reckon," Monica said. "Not that Donovan's going to have much competition. It's probably all over by now."

"I think he'll take it easy on Cody," Alex said. "Either that, or Cody's just cowering against a car after having the riot act read to him." She wouldn't be surprised. Frank was more of a big brother figure to Cody then the younger man realised.

She spear-headed the trio to the door and turned the knob, not pausing in case she too chickened out.

Once outside, she stopped so suddenly that Jake barrelled into her, propelling her forward a few steps. Beyond their cars was a quadrangle of paving that they used for shooting hoops during their down-time. It was rough and small, but it still provided opportunity for exercise and venting frustration or tension. The quadrangle had no exterior lighting, but the cloud cover had dispersed and the full moon bathed the area in more than adequate light, spotlighting the two men hunched there.

Cody was jumping about on the spot in front of Frank while the taller man was dribbling a basketball from side to side, dodging Cody's feints patiently and with skill.

"Aw, come on, Frank! Gimme the ball! Gimme the ball!" Cody complained.

Alex had not expected this.

"What are you doing?" Monica gasped, her voice several decibels higher than Alex had ever heard her.

The men stopped in surprise and straightened.

Alex wondered if the 'wish-fairies' had been listening to their earlier conversation, as both men were stripped of their shirts, down to white cotton vests. The game must have been intense because where the moonlight touched, their skin glistened with sweat.

And Alex saw her opportunity.

Some perverse part of her wanted to see how badly Frank had suffered at the hands of the Colombians and all she had to do was angle behind Frank and check out his back. She caught Monica's attention and the other woman lifted her brows and then nodded.

Monica folded her arms, looked at the two sweating men and tapped a foot. "Well? Are you going to explain yourselves? We thought the worst in there. That at the very least we were going to have to carry Cody back inside on a stretcher and here you are..." She swept out a hand. "... playing?"

Alex casually left the group on the pretext of picking up a discarded shirt from an empty forty gallon drum and folding it. Both men had been wearing dark shirts, but from this one's scent, she guessed it was Frank's.

"Hey, Monica," Cody whined, "there's no law against shooting some hoops with a buddy."

Alex smirked. Since when had Cody got Frank on 'buddy' status? Obviously Frank had done a good job of turning a tense moment into a morale-building one. Another trick of his trade.

"But there's hardly any light!" Monica kept up the diversion. "How can you see the ball?"

Alex moved around a parked car and headed back to the guys from the rear.

"Frank wants me to hone my night vision," Cody explained. "As if I don't sit in the dark enough as it is watching over Alex and Jake on live-feed. But you know, you'd be surprised at how easy it is to spot a ball in moonlight. It's getting the ball that's the tough part." He made to bat the ball out of Frank's hands, but Donovan easily swung it out of his reach.

Alex was right behind Frank now, and she caught Cody's look of pique at the taller man. She moved in closer but the cotton vest, though exposing Frank's shoulders and muscular arms, still covered most of his back. Damn! Her hands itched to grab the bottom of the vest and inch it upward. She wondered what he would do if she did.

"That doesn't explain why... this..." Monica thrust out a hand at them, "... now, does it?"

Frank held up the basketball in both hands. "Cody wanted a challenge. He wanted to be Magic Johnson. Well, consider me his…Larry Bird."

He moved slightly and Alex gasped as she realised Frank was looking behind, right at her. Her eyes flew to his in alarm. Even in the moonlight, she saw what looked like disappointment on his face. He knew what she was doing.

"They're there, Alex," he said. "You don't have to look."

Finis.