UNMARKED WAREHOUSE

THURSDAY EVENING

Tessa Reagan's confidant stance was a bluff. She was nervous and anxious and downright upset that she was pulled away from her little brother's graduation party. The party was going well, Tessa and her sister Erin were doing shots, when Gabriel Short walked in with an emergency. Tessa apologized profusely as she hurried out the door, Gabriel keeping her steady by holding her elbow as she slipped into her heels. Her older brother Danny had already been called away on a case as soon as Jamie graduated. Being on call 24/7 whether being a lawyer or a cop was a hazard in the Reagan family.

Her father, Police Commissioner Frank Reagan, patriarch of the blue blooded family, covertly handed Gabriel a full pack of mints while telling him to drive safely.

The emergency they were heading to, like some of the situations she handled, meant she had to be in close proximity to big men with big guns wanting big money. But unlike brothers or father would've, she didn't need to match their force, she only needed to talk her way into getting what her client wants.

Tessa wasn't a cop or a crook, she was a fixer.

The only problem with her job was that she only had the precious few seconds it would take for this rickety elevator to climb to floor six to come up with a plan. Last minute change in plans where never good for perfect plans.

Gabriel Short, Tessa's partner, pulled down the elevator cage doors behind him. He leaned passed Tessa to hit the round button for floor six. The faint glow pulsated as the elevator slowly rose. She glanced over at him, catching his eye.

Gabriel stood tall five-foot-eleven, the upturned collar of his navy floor-length Belstaff 'Milford' coat adding to the appearance of height. His strong square jaw and prominent cheekbones were striking, yet overall not over-bearingly handsome. His black hair was combed back in a dapper fashion – a modern take on the Don Draper hair but with added volume. His eyes, concealed behind thick, black Clark Kent-esque glasses, were the clearest of grey with small flecks of brown. He was very Rob Lowe.

Tess stood nearly at eye-height with him when she wore her heels. She was athletically slender with an acceptable bust that men had no problem with. Her face was oval shaped and beautiful in the extreme, her every feature was finely chiseled and delicate. Her eyes were large and the color of Freedman blue. Her head was overcome by a mass of chestnut hair, waving hair, caught loosely into a strange, intricate braid than ran to the middle of her back. Her skin was Irish cream fair against which the crimson glow of her cheeks and the ruby of her beautifully molded lips shone with a strangely enhancing effect.

"We're going to get killed," Gabriel broke the silence.

Tessa quickly changed the subject to keep from thinking about what was to happen when the elevator doors opened up. The dissipating alcohol in her system helped some. "How was the pre-anniversary dinner? You said you were going to propose again."

"Dinner was lovely, thank you." He turned to her and fiercely repeated, "We're going to get killed. We're three million dollars short." He held up the leather over-night bag he held in his hands for emphasis.

"So you flaked on the proposal?" She asked incredulously. Since falling in love with The West Wing years ago, it's been a secret goal of her to master the walk-n-talk as well as carry on two conversations simultaneously. She was happy to report she could do both. She turned to face him fully. "Why are we short?"

"I did not flake, I'm working for you. I'll propose again on our actual anniversary." Gabriel turned to face her as well. "The ambassador couldn't come up with the rest; which is a problem. A very big problem. Which is why we shouldn't even be going up there in the first place."

Tessa reached out and began fixing Gabriel's maroon tie. Gabriel lifted his head to give her more room to work. "Don't worry, they'll take what we give them. And did you at least buy the second engagement ring?"

"We have bigger things to worry about than me not re-proposing to Chris. Ukrainian mobsters do not take what you give them. They just shoot you." Gabriel lowered his head once Tessa was done and turned to face the door. The elevator was crawling to a stop. "We have a situation here. Focus." The doors parted for them and Gabriel turned to look at Tessa one last time. "Do what you do."

With those encouraging words, Tessa sucked in a deep breath before confidently strutting past Gabriel and into the center of the room where two men dressed sharply in suits – one black and one grey - stood with a wooden workbench between them. A brown cardboard packing box was placed on top.

"Добрий вечір , панове, (good evening, gentlemen)," Tessa greeted them.

"Чи є у вас гроші? (Do you have the money?)" The man in the grey suit asked as he stepped forward.

"Да (Yes)," She stopped perhaps two feet away from the mobster, signaling for Gabriel to stop much farther back. "Bсе три мільйони. (All three million)."

"Ve said seex," The man in the grey suit said in English through his heavy accent.

"Did we?" Tessa asked, feigning confusion.

"Ve did!" The man in the grey suit shouted, slamming his hand down on the table.

Tessa held out her hand and Gabriel place the leather over-night bag in her hand. She then handed it to the man in the grey suit.

"All we have is three."

"Zat is a problem." He warned her, pointing his finger. He placed the bag down on the table and opened it up to inspect the money. All neatly-banded, untraceable one-hundred dollar bills.

"That is all the ambassador had on short notice," she countered coolly, "so you are going to have to accept that."

The man in the black suit stepped forward, pulling back his coat to reveal the silver gun attached to his hip. He drew his gun from its holster and held it in front of him casually. Concerned, Gabriel walked up to Tessa, placing a steady hand on her arm.

Either her alcohol buzz or her false bravado were going to get them killed.

"Ven you com back vith ze other tree, zen ve vill 'ave a deal." The man in the grey suit smugly drummed his chubby fingers against the leather bag. "In fact, bring back five. Count this as compensation….for time wasted."

Then gun was meant as a warning; Tessa, however, took it as a challenge. Under this pressure, she appeared completely unafraid. There was a look to her stare that made the mobster feel uneasy for no reason he could explain. She cocked her eyebrow.

"That's not going to happen."

"No?"

"Нет!" She assertively took a step forward. "What's going to happen is you and Vlad over there are going to take the three million and leave right now for JFK to make your flight to the motherland. The reason you're going to want to go right now, beside the fact that it's just good travel sense to give yourself enough time for international check-in, because in exactly," She glanced down at her watch sarcastically to make her point, "4 hours and 15 minutes both of your names are going to suddenly 'pop up' on homeland security's no-fly list." She took another step forward and smiled with false reassurance. "Lucky for you, you're booked on a flight that leaves in two and a half hours, so if it were me, I'd much rather spend $3 million in Kiev than here in New York. Way more bang for your buck. In fact, it may even feel like $6 once you're there."

After her tirade, she stood unwavering in front of the grey-suited mobster that smelled like clam chowder and cheap hookers. She could almost see the perspiration working its way on his brow line. He deliberated a moment longer before slowly walking back to the leather bag. Tessa kept her eyes on him while Gabriel and the man in the black suit locked eyes. The man in the grey suit loudly zipped the bag closed and snapped his fingers at the man in the black suit.

"Good boys," Tessa praised sarcastically as if she were speaking to dogs. As she walked up to the cardboard box on the workbench she said, "Since we have a deal, I'll take what we came for."

She opened the cardboard box and carefully picked up what was inside – an infant boy wrapped in soft blue blankets with the initials V.M embroidered on it. She cradled him gently against her chest and walked away.

"Pleasure doing business with you gentlemen. I thank you, our client thanks you, and we hope to never see you again." Gabriel closed the hostile meeting before quickly following Tessa back into the elevator.

On the way down, the infant boy gurgled and squirmed in Tessa's arms. She smiled warmly down at him, stroking his chest with her finger. She looked up and saw Gabriel starring at her.

"God, I love this job."

OFFICES OF TESSA REAGAN & ASSOSIATES

Tessa, carrying the client's "package", followed Gabriel into their fifth-floor office building. She knew their clients, the ambassador and his wife, would be waiting in her office where Gabriel had left them hours ago when they walked in with their crisis. This case would have been handled and neatly wrapped up hours ago if it hadn't been for the mobster's finicky choices in locations; he would call to change locations as soon as Tessa and Gabriel arrived.

Gabriel punched his ID code into the security pad beside the metal door with the words Reagan & Associates stenciled in white. There was an audible click of the lock disengaging. Gabriel held open the heavy door for Tessa, but she stood frozen just outside the door frame.

"What is it?" Gabriel asked. The concerned look he had earlier made a reappearance, yet this time it was softened by Tessa's own look of concealed desperation.

"Do you ever stop and just think about having kids? What your life would be like?" She asked softly. In the hour it took to get back to their office across town through traffic, she had become accustomed to the feeling of holding someone this small in her arms.

"You can't keep him, Tess," Gabriel smiled understandingly.

"Not him. Just someone like him."

Gabriel closed the office door and stepped back into the hallway. He placed his hand on the baby's head and gently soothed his thumb across. A warm smile tugged at his lips when he looked down into the small, innocent face.

"Tess," he started gently. "You did what you thought you had to do when Michael…." He took his hand off the baby and tilted Tessa's chin up to look at him, "No one can blame you. When the time is right, you'll get another chance."

"It's too late," she smiled, "he's already taken."

"I do hope you're talking about me," he teased back. He chuckled and opened the door for her.

Tessa put on her "friendly-but-business" face as she strode into the purposefully small lobby of their office. There was a deep mahogany U-shaped desk stationed in front of a glass wall that boldly showed in black text Reagan & Associates. At her desk was Donna Martin, the firm's receptionist/secretary. She was a 5'3 red head, her hair pulled back from her face with a flower clip, yet still tumbled gracefully down her back. She was no more than twenty-five, her cornflower blue eyes held the story of a woman who has lived far beyond her years.

"Is that him?" Donna asked in greeting. She rose from her chair and quietly making her way around her desk. She was wearing a modest peach dress that hugged her hourglass figure in all the right places. Her creamy skin and bright hair complemented her dress.

"This is him," Gabriel smiled. "Donna, I'd like you to meet baby Viktor."

"He's beautiful," she sighed. She stroked his forehead gently with her fingertips, starring down at him in awe.

"I'm sure his mother would agree with you," Tessa prompted.

"Oh, right," Donna pulled back from the baby to lean over her desk, standing on her tipy-toes to do so, to hit the button that would buzz them in.

"Now go home. We're not paying overtime." Tessa said as she walked through the reception door and into the hallway that lead to the heart of Reagan & Associates. Once in the small hallway, it was flanked by a kitchen to the right and a luxurious waiting room/lounge area. There was a black door labeled 'no admittance' in bold white ink in the corner of the kitchen.

That was Lyall's office – if you could call it that. He was Tessa's go-to computer genius like the kind you see in the movies and on TV. He can't work Hollywood-fiction fast, but he's fast enough and good enough at what he does to land him on a couple watch lists.

"I'm not on the clock," Donna reassured Tessa as she followed her and Gabriel into the office. "I just wanted to make sure the baby is alright."

She stopped following them to turn into the kitchen, presumably heading to Lyall's office. Lyall lived more in his office than he did in whatever loft he squats in.

At the end of the hallway was a set of opaque-glass French doors in deep mahogany brown stain and white trim. Gabriel opened those doors for her as well, opening up to a round wooden table in the center of the room. To the left was Tessa's office, her name stenciled in black on the door, and to the right was Gabriel's office, his name, too, stenciled in black on his door. The wall directly in front of the French doors, between the two offices, was a wall made purely out of glass windows that showed the beautifully iconic New York city-scape.

Through Tessa's office window, the ambassador's wife watched as Tessa entered the office with her son safely in her arms. She rushed out of the office, tears happily streaming from her eyes, to greet them both. Tessa carefully handed over the baby back to his mother and watched on as she buried her face into her child, rocking him against her. Although the ambassador walked calmly out of her office with his bodyguard in tow, Tessa could see the worry and strain that now been lifted from him.

"Thank you. Thank you. When the Russians kidnapped him, I thought…but you returned my son back to me. Thank you." He walked over and pulled Tessa into a hug, squeezing her for good measure. When he pulled back, he was smiling with tears welling in his eyes. "Please. Anything I can do for you and your firm. Anything."

"We're not a law firm, Mr. Ambassador." Tessa corrected politely. "We're lawyers, but this is not a law firm."

"Law firms are for pansies." Gabriel added jokingly, and the ambassador chuckled.

"Like our mutual friend explained when he referred you to me, we solve problems. Manage crises, save reputations."

"Bah," The ambassador waved. He placed his hands squarely on Tessa's shoulders. "Whatever you are, name it, and I will do it for you."

"If you ever have a second child, Tessa's a beautiful name," Gabriel commented. He was in the process of undoing his tie.

"Mr. Ambassador, you can take your son back to the consulate and keep him safe. And you can never tell anyone about this. The FBI is sick of me." She added the last with a smile.

"Of course. Thank you." He smiled and nodded. He let go of Tessa and walked to the door, nodding to Gabriel. "Thank you."

Gabriel shut the French doors once the main door down the hallway shut behind the ambassador. He let out a heavy sign as he turned to Tessa. A wolfish grin broke across his face as he held up the check the ambassador's guard handed him.

"Ah, don't you love the smell of a big pay day? I know I do." He held the check under his nose and breathed in deep. When he exhaled, he close his eyes and leaned his head back, his mouth forming an 'O' with ecstasy.

Tessa rolled her eyes and retreated into her office to shut her computer down and grab some case files to work on at home. She was more than hoping that she could work on these case files she's been neglecting with a bottle of wine and a bowl of popcorn in her living room watching Leno.

"Go home to your fiancé, Gabe." Tessa called out as she placed the files into her leather briefcase. She turned off the desk lamp and flick the switch on the over-head light as she got to the door.

She glanced down at her watch – 10:45 pm. She sighed, frustrated. As she was putting on her white coat, contrasting beautifully with her light blue dress, she called out to Gabriel, who in office packing his own briefcase, "Let's call this case a win and celebrate separately."

"Agreed," Gabriel smiled as he walked out of his office to join Tessa by the meeting table. From outside the doors, they could hear a small commotion and raised voices. They exchanged confused looks. Gabriel put down in briefcase and walked out the French doors. He came back a moment later looking exhausted and on high alert.

"We've got incoming."

Tessa stopped buttoning up her coat, her hands frozen on the last button. "How bad?"

The French doors opened and Donna walked in. She stood with her back against the door as she ushered in their newest problem. Standing in the doorway was a young man respectively in his mid-twenties with brown hair cleanly-cut and his face clean-shaven. He stood with military discipline, his clothing was Republican standard-issue – long sleeved collared dress shirt, khaki pants with belt, and oxford shoes. The only drawback from his appearance was that he was splattered with deep, crimson blood.

"You have to help me," He said, his breath hitching in his throat.

When he walked closer towards Tessa, he walked with a limp, slightly dragging his right leg with him. The closer he got, the more Tessa could see of him. He had deep-set brown eyes that were glazed over with tears yet to be shed, possibly do to shock after what's happened. Donna walked backwards through the doors, shutting them behind her.

"Please. Someone help me." He stopped just feet away from Tessa and Gabriel. His eyes darted around the room, focusing on nothing in particular. "My girlfriend…" He took a deep breath, a single tear rolling out of his eye. He spoke softer as he looked into Gabriel's eyes. "She's dead….police think I killed her."

Gabriel walked in front of the man, pulling out his phone. He aimed it at the man's face and snapped a picture of him.

"Welcome to Reagan and Associates." Gabriel said. "I'm Gabriel Short and this is Tessa Reagan. If you'll follow Ms. Martin, we'll get you cleaned up."

Donna reappeared seemingly out of nowhere carrying a neatly folded stack of what looked to be a change of clothes, a pair of shoes on top. She walked in front of him and gestured for him to follow. Gabriel stealthily handed her his phone as she walked past him. It took a moment for the man to register that he should be moving. He blinked a couple times, trying to get his mind to work. He nodded and followed Donna.

"I'm going to go babysit while Donna gets his picture Lyall. He's friendlier if it's her waking him up," Gabriel winked at her before heading down the auxiliary hallway by Gabriel's office that Donna and the client walked down. They only use it for cases like this, which, unfortunately, isn't as rare as they would like it to be.

Tessa sighed heavily as she unbuttoned her coat. It was obvious this man needed their help, but for once she would like to leave this place at a reasonable time and at least pretend to be a normal woman who spends time with her family and goes on occasional dates – all without receiving a life-or-death phones call from clients. She tossed her coat over the back of one of the wooden chairs at the table but not before she dug out her cell phone from her coat pocket.

She pulled up her messages and composed a new one, saying, "What are you working on?"

She laid her phone down on the glass table and grabbed her coat off the back of the chair. She walked into her office, flicking on the overhead light. She hung up her coat and her briefcase on the tall coat rack beside the door.

When she returned to the meeting room a few moments later, she saw Lyall leaning back in one of the chairs, a steaming, pale pink ceramic Hello Kitty cup in his hands. His red conversed feet were propped on the table, his long legs a feast of blue jeans over toned runner's legs. His hair was a dusty brown and tousled as if he had rolled off the hammock he strung together in his office.

"Why are you asking?" Lyall read off the message that had appeared on Tessa's phone screen a few moments ago. He took a sip from his cup, eyeing her with murky hazel eyes. "Caught another one of Danny's cases?"

"Professional curtesy," Tessa typed out as she said, "Let's hope not." She looked up at Lyall, picking up his legs off the table by his ankles, moved them away from the table, and dropped them. "Caught a fresh one. He's in the 'ready room'. See what you can find out. Keep in mind we are on a time schedule; cops'll want to be arresting him soon."

"We're always on a deadline, Tess." Lyall stood up, cradling his mug in his hands.

He rose to nearly six feet. He wasn't gawky and skinny limbed as most teenagers his age – Tessa guessed his age to be around eighteen - but leanly built like a baseball player with a big chest, wide shoulders, and flat stomach. His form-fitting black Foo Fighters t-shirt showcased his firm biceps and sleeve tattooed arms that began at his wrists and traveled up to his shoulders, each arm a different intricate design. Connecting from his shoulders, a new set of designs tattooed up his neck, stopping just below his Adam's apple. He had two face piercings – a black steel lip ring and eyebrow rod, both on his left side.

"How deep do you want me to go?"

"No surprises."

"Got it." Lyall walked off to the 'ready room' – a sterile white room that was a forensic tech's wet dream of non-contamination - to snap his own picture of the client, sipping his mug as he went. While Lyall was in there, Gabriel was collecting his own photos for their case file – the blood splatter, the bloody clothes, any external wounds on the client. The client's clothes would be bagged up tightly and placed in a box that will be held in Gabriel's office, everything handled with kit gloves. Once evidence and photos were collected, the client changed into a clean pair of clothes, yet would keep the blood on him.

Tessa smiled fondly after him. She knew about his past, and he about hers. The loyalty Tessa has shown him and earned her all of his. When he first began working for her, Gabriel was skeptical about him; not even he knew what Tessa had done for Lyall.

Tess' phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down and smiled at the message, "Dead girlfriend of war hero Nicolas Randal."