Author's note: Kestrel and Fourth Echelon adventures continue... I really like writing about them, and I hope you'll enjoy this new story. Maybe I'll update less often than the previous stories, but I'll try and have a chapter published a day as usual. Enjoy reading!

Chapter 1

The soft vibration of the smartphone in his pocket made Kestrel jump, and he took it out grumbling inwardly. He looked at the name displayed on the screen and saw "Sam". Hesitating, he watched the phone a few more seconds before gathering his courage, and answered with a sigh.

_ Yes?

_ Kestrel? It's Sam. Are you all right?

_ I was.

Kestrel rubbed his face and looked at the fading light. The view of the waterfall next to him, reflecting the setting sun with a soft gurgling sound, was awesome as always, but this time he knew he would have to leave his corner of paradise. Unlike his previous calls, this time Sam's tone meant business.

_ Kestrel, I'm sorry to disturb you, but...

_ We have a mission, Kestrel cut him softly. Don't worry, Sam. It was meant to happen sooner or later. And I've had three months off-duty, thanks to you. I'm all right.

He rose from his usual rock and looked a last time at the clearing where he had spent the last two hours, meditating peacefully, and headed back to the wooden chalet. In the phone, Sam said apologetically:

_ We must meet Briggs' former CIA colleagues in Langley to set up a joint mission in two days.

_ I hate joint missions, Kestrel grumbled.

_ That I know, but I hope everything will turn okay for us with American colleagues.

_ We'll see.

Kestrel climbed the porch and entered the chalet, heading for his bedroom on the third floor. He switched on the loudspeaker on his smartphone and put it on his bed as he started to gather his belongings in his bag.

_ Grim booked a place for you in tomorrow's first plane leaving Boise, Sam told him. Take-off at 4.16 am.

_ You do realize that I came here with my pickup? the ops replied calmly.

_ Jun is already heading for Boise. He'll meet you at the airport and drive your car back to Baltimore.

_ How thoughtful, Kestrel said, not hiding the sarcasm.

_ Kestrel...

_ Sorry, Sam. It wrenches me to leave this place, that's all.

_ It belongs to us, Sam said gently. Whenever you want, you'll come back there.

_ Thank you very much.

_ How are you feeling?

Kestrel took his time to answer. His holidays had really saved his life. Without them he would've utterly cracked and sunk into a nervous breakdown. But he had travelled abroad during the first three weeks, fulfilling his dream with doing a tour of Europe, before coming back to the States for Sarah Fisher and Ben Woodridge's wedding. And right after that he had gone in a spiritual retreat in an orthodox monastery in Boston for two weeks. The silence and Russian prayers had appeased his frayed nerves and helped him focus and master his anger.

Then he had taken his pickup and crossed the country to Idaho, where he had spent the last month and a half in Sam's and Grim's chalet. He thought he would stay there only three weeks, the reamining of the two months Sam had originally given the team, but no urgent mission had come, so Sam had told him he could stay in the chalet until he called him back. And now was the time. But Kestrel was okay. His mind had mended, and he knew where he would go.

_ I'm rested, mentally and physically, and ready for any job, he said calmly.

_ I believe you, Sam said. That's good. Have you finished the low table?

_ Yes. It's in the lounge, waiting for your next visit.

_ Excellent.

Kestrel had made a new low table, since he had destroyed the previous one in his rage during his last stay with the team in January. And he had chopped wood and cut down three trees to make the wood dry for the coming winters. The shack behind the chalet was full to bursting with logs, all cut with a simple axe.

Kestrel asked his boss:

_ Did you know that a small river was flowing five hundred meters south of the chalet?

_ No. Really?

_ Really. I went fishing twice in it. But the last time, last Saturday, there was a fishing contest, and there were plenty of people. There even was some local television channel. I tried to avoid their cameras.

_ Don't worry, you won't be recognized as simply as that. Did you catch something?

_ Actually yes, and to my great surprise. Fishing's not really my thing, but I managed to catch a pike, and of course it had to be the biggest of the day. I made the front page in the local fishing newspaper, I imagine. Lucky me. But the pike tasted fine.

Sam chuckled, and Kestrel smiled while checking his bag. He would have the evening to gather his things in the other rooms, but he liked to be ready at a moment's notice.

_ Okay, Kestrel. Charlie sent your ticket on your smartphone, he told me you would just have to present it on your screen at the airport. Technology...

Kestrel smirked at his boss' disgruntled voice. Sam was an exceptional commander, but a little old-school and quite reluctant to using high-technological stuff.

_ Right. When will I arrive in Baltimore?

_ You have a stop over at Denver of an hour, and you'll land in Baltimore around 11 am for you and 2 pm here. Briggs will come to fetch you and drive you to your place, then you will both come to the Paladin for dinner and an evening debrief. We'll leave together for Langley the day after that.

_ Copy.

_ Right. Enjoy your evening, Kestrel.

_ You too, Sam. See you tomorrow evening, then.

Kestrel hung up and sat on his bed, sighing heavily. He would miss the quiet of the chalet and the amazing view of the forest and the waterfall from his bedroom window, but on the other hand he would be able to visit Alpha's grave when he returned in Baltimore. Smiling slightly he got up and prepared a hasty meal before cleaning the chalet. And when he went to bed, he was quite happy to go back to the Paladin the next day with his team and resume his job as a field operative.

As planned, he met Jun at the airport terminal before dawn, and the smiling analyst promised to take care of his pickup. Then Kestrel boarded his plane, sleeping soundly during the first flight to Denver then reading Alpha's book for the fourth time during the second one. And when the plane landed, he was feeling great and calm, like his old self.

Briggs was waiting for him just outside the terminal, standing beside his Chevrolet. He embraced Kestrel and asked him while taking his bag and putting it in the trunk:

_ Safe flight?

_ No turbulence, he smiled. Thanks for picking me up. I could've booked a taxi.

_ I know, that's why I told Sam I would be there. We haven't seen each other for two months, mate. I wanted some time to talk to you alone, and not aboard the Paladin.

_ You worry me.

_ No need, Briggs said as he climbed behind the wheel.

Kestrel sat in the shotgun seat and waited for his friend to speak. Briggs looked calm enough, but Kestrel could tell something was bothering his teammate.

_ Sam told you about us going to Langley, I assume?

_ Yes. Something about a joint operation, although he didn't give me any specifics.

_ The CIA is in dire straits, Briggs explained while driving swiftly in the quite light Baltimore traffic. They became aware of some intel leaking out of Langley and reaching foreign agencies, but in spite of three internal investigations they still haven't discovered the mole.

_ Don't tell me we'll become private investigators, Kestrel groaned.

_ No. Supposedly we'll have to follow some trail to track the middlemen of the last leak.

_ What do you mean, "supposedly"?

Briggs shot him a very serious look, and Kestrel felt uneasiness creeping into his guts.

_ I don't believe any of this. I've worked for the CIA, and I know they can't stand having other agencies breathing down their necks. So why call Fourth Echelon?

_ Are you telling me that we're being used?

_ I fear there's much more going on, but it's only an intuition. I told Sam, but he's bound hand and foot, as it's a direct presidential order. It concerns him a lot, I can tell you.

Kestrel stayed silent for a few seconds, but he thought about what Briggs had begun to say.

_ Why are you telling me this now? Why not aboard the Paladin with all the team?

Briggs kept his eyes on the road, but he swallowed and Kestrel noticed a trickle of sweat on his forehead. Uh oh, he thought. His friend was afraid of his reactions, and that meant trouble.

_ Because I have a question to ask you, and I don't want to offend you. If I do, I prefer being alone with you as to keep it between the two of us.

_ Wow, Kestrel whistled. I have the impression we're about to step on a hornets' nest. Come on, Briggs, you know you can ask me anything. Go on.

Briggs parked in front of a nearby restaurant and turned to face him. He inhaled deeply and said:

_ Are you in contact with Voron?

Kestrel, stunned, was first too bewildered to answer. Then he said calmly:

_ No. Igor phoned me once, though, last Sunday. Why?

_ Because I've just learned that the last leak from the CIA reached the SVR. And you know much better than me that Voron could be behind it. You're a former Voron ops, and I fear the CIA won't look past their noses for the culprit.

Kestrel felt a blinding anger rising in him, but he kept it under control. His retreat in Boston and stay in the chalet had done the trick, he was able to master his nerves now. He exhaled deeply, allowing himself five seconds of sophrology before saying calmly:

_ If they do think it's me, then I don't know how I could have learned about their little secrets. I'm no hacker, and I don't know anyone in the CIA. And when I talked to Igor, it was only small talk. We both know that in our jobs we are enemies.

_ I trust you, mate, Briggs said. And so does the team. But... maybe I'm too paranoid, but this joint operation...

Kestrel watched his friend's tight features and sighed inwardly. He knew he was an easy scapegoat, being a defector from Russia. But he had to trust his new country. He had nothing to fear, he was innocent. But if something happened, he would be prepared.

_ Thanks for telling me. But as you said, maybe it's nothing.

_ Maybe.

Kestrel' gaze fell upon the neon sign above the restaurant and his stomach rumbled loudly. Briggs shot him an amused look and asked:

_ Shall we go in there?

_ Bob's steakhouse, Kestrel read, already salivating. You parked at the right place.

_ I would've offered you to pay the bill, but...

_ Better not for your wallet, мой друг. (my friend)

Briggs smiled and led the way inside. There Kestrel ordered from a bewildered waitress three huge prime ribs with potatoes, and ate them in less than fifteen minutes. The meat was delicious, and he savoured it while watching Briggs eating calmly his slab of steak with fries. Some country music was playing softly, and the restaurant was full to bursting with customers.

After the dessert, a giant ice cream cup, Kestrel paid the bill and left a generous tip for the grateful waitress, then followed Briggs to his car. They soon arrived in Shipley Hill, Kestrel's neighbourhood, and Briggs parked at the foot of his building. He told Kestrel:

_ I'll leave you now, and come back again to pick you up at six thirty. Okay?

_ That leaves me... three hours, Kestrel said, checking his OPSAT. Enough time.

_ Say hello to Alpha for me.

_ Will do. Is Molly coming with us?

Briggs was still dating the nice nurse, and they were thinking about living together, which Kestrel found cute.

_ No, she's got an in-house training in New York for a month.

_ Then say hello for me too when you phone her.

_ Okay, mate.

Kestrel took his bag from the trunk and watched Briggs speeding away. He hastily went to his apartment on the third floor and prepared his bag for the coming mission. In truth, he hadn't much to do since the bag he had with him had everything, but he thoroughly checked his things as to be sure not to leave something important behind him. Then he left his bag right next to his door and left, heading for the Mount Olivet cemetery.

The walk took him twenty minutes, and soon he saw the black tombstone with the golden letters engraved on it, and stopped right in front of it. He said softly:

_ Good afternoon, my love. I know it's been a long time since my last visit, two months ago, and I'm sorry about it. I was in Boise's chalet, and I spent some good time there. I'm feeling much better now.

He stayed there, in front of Alpha's grave, for two hours, telling her the small things he had done, the places he had seen, the feelings he had had and was still having. Talking to her like that was essential for him. Finally he said regretfully:

_ Now I must leave, my love. Briggs will be waiting for me, and we'll meet the team aboard the plane. Briggs says hello, and I'm pretty sure Sam, Grim and Charlie too. I'll come back soon, лювбимая. (my love)

He sent a kiss to the grave, then strode to the gate. He had a small smile when he noticed Briggs' car parked in the street, and climbed in it as if it was perfectly normal. Briggs shook his head.

_ You could've taken your bag with you, we would've saved time.

_ You're early, my friend, Kestrel said calmly. It's only 6.13 pm. You did tell me 6.30, and you were supposed to pick me up at my place.

_ I was bored.

Smiling, Kestrel let Briggs drive him back to his apartment and quickly fetched his bag, then they headed to the airport, where the Paladin and the Fourth Echelon team were waiting for them.