Chapter Two – Kimura Hold

Kimura: An arm-lock position in which the arm is bent behind the fighter leading to an arm break or shoulder dislocation if the fighter doesn't tap out. Named after the Japanese fighter, Masahiko Kimura.

Casey walked into her dojang at the same time as the day before. When he saw Zac Efron teaching the class, he worried for a moment that he was wrong about her being a flight risk. Then he saw a movement in the doorway of her office.

He turned his head to find her leaning against the doorframe wearing jeans and a white sweater, her hair pulled back in a pony tail, arms crossed over her chest. "You didn't fill out the paperwork, Mr. Casey. I thought I gave you plenty of time."

He took a step toward her. "Couldn't find a pen, Ms. Caldwell."

She held his stare for several moments and then gave him half a smile. She angled her body to the side and motioned for him to enter her office. He walked around the front desk and paused in the doorway, squaring his body up to hers. Together they filled most of the available space – there was only an inch of air between their bodies. The smell of her filled his nose – no sweat this time - and his heart skipped a beat again.

He looked down into her hazel eyes and put on his favorite scowl. "That wasn't funny."

She examined his eyes and then gave him the half smile again. "You're lucky I didn't set the alarm." He snarled and continued to stare at her. "You're not trying to intimidate me, are you?"

He stepped into the office and she followed and closed the door. She walked around her desk and motioned to the chair in front of it. "Take a seat Mr. Casey."

He remembered sitting in the dark and feeling like a fool. "I'd rather stand."

She shrugged and sat down. "Just as well. You won't be here long…" She set her eyes on his. "My answer is still hell no."

He gritted his teeth and took a step toward the desk. "You haven't even heard what I have to say."

She sighed and leaned back in the chair. "It's obvious. Peter has done something to piss off the government and unfortunately the government knows that Peter and I have a past…"

"I'll say," he snarked. Casey had spent a good deal of time reading about the two of them and reviewing surveillance photos.

She frowned at him. "But that was four years ago. I haven't seen him since I caught him cheating on me."

The photo from the file came back to him. The woman in question was a low level Pentagon employee with bleach blonde hair, D cups, and an endless supply of provocative clothing. She was a cliché and couldn't hold a candle to Caldwell in Casey's opinion.

Casey shook his head. "Guy was an idiot."

Caldwell stopped with her mouth slightly open to stare at him for a moment. She gave a jerky nod. "Yes, he was," she said. "But the point is I don't know where he is, I haven't talked to him in four years, and there is nothing I can do to help you."

He stepped closer to the desk. "You haven't seen him in four years?" he asked.

"That's what I said."

"Funny. Our intel says he comes noising around here every couple of months. We just assumed it had something to do with you."

Her creamy complexion went pale and Casey examined her face trying to determine if she was reacting to getting caught in a lie or if she was… surprised? Maybe even scared?

After a moment she said, "There are a lot of reasons Peter might come to LA… it could be anything…" her voice was faraway, "and he's never contacted me… why would he?"

Casey watched her carefully. She was either a good actress or honestly shaken.

"You really expect me to believe that these visits have nothing to do with you? That in the last 4 years he hasn't tried to contact you?"

She moved her eyes quickly as if thinking about something - working something out. "No… it's not possible… he couldn't…"

Her eyes were suddenly pulled to the computer monitor. "Oh shit!"

She came to her feet, her body suddenly tense and defensive. Casey wished he brought a gun.

"What?" he asked looking around at the monitor. It showed the video feed from the surveillance cameras. He heard the door of the dojang open. He caught her eyes… they were wide and nervous. Casey smiled. "Is he here?"

"What?" she exclaimed. "No! I told you I haven't seen him and it's the truth." She started to move toward the door. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

"Like I'm going to fall for that again," Casey said, following her too closely.

She rounded on him and stabbed a finger into his chest. "You stay here!" she said in her most commanding voice. She looked up into his eyes and her tone softened. "When I come back, we can talk about how you think I can help."

He tilted his head and growled deep in his throat.

"Please," she said softly. He realized she was pleading with him. "Just give me five minutes." She splayed her fingers on his chest and pushed him backwards a few steps.

She didn't wait for his reply. She turned and disappeared out the door, closing it behind her. He hesitated for a moment. There was a part of him – a part he thought he had buried long ago – that said she was fragile and should be protected; that she should be trusted and he should respect her request.

Then he remembered Corrina and every other woman who had betrayed him. He remembered watching Walker work her magic. He remembered every Marine and NSA operative who had turned on him.

He threw a couple more shovels of dirt on that stupid, naïve part of himself and headed for the door.

There was a screech of sound that he couldn't identify coming from the other side of the door. He yanked it open.

He couldn't have been more surprised if he had found Caldwell standing there naked. He was momentarily distracted with the imagery…

Caldwell was on her knees holding a little girl in her arms. The girl had her arms fastened tightly around Caldwell's neck and was still making the screeching noise. Her shoulder length strawberry blond hair was pulled back with a colorful headband, long curls bouncing over her shoulders. Her clothes were an explosion of orange and purple and green.

There was a another woman there also. Younger than Caldwell with long dark hair, average height, athletic build, and white rhinestone sunglasses pushed up on the top of her head. She eyed Casey for a moment then turned her eyes back to Caldwell.

"I'm sorry, Jo, she was just so unhappy…"

The little girl interrupted as little kids always do, her voice too loud and much too excited. "Don't be mad at aunt Katie, mommy… I just missed you. I wanted to see you… I… I'm…"

The little girl turned her head toward Casey and her blue eyes widened. "Who's that Mommy? He's scary."

Caldwell looked around the girl to scowl at him. "He's nobody, sweetie. Pay no attention to him."

Realizing this was just the kind of personal information he could use against her, Casey did his best to put on a friendly smile. "Hi there! I'm Mr. Casey," he said in his most friendly voice as he walked toward them. "I'm a friend of your mommy's." Casey knelt down beside them. "And who are you?"

She looked at him for a few moments and finally said, "I'm not 'posed to talk to strangers."

Caldwell smiled and stood up keeping the girl close to her chest. "Good girl," she said, rubbing the girl's back.

"Adorable," Casey said through clenched teeth. He came to his feet and focused on Caldwell's eyes.

Caldwell gave him a silent snarl then pulled the little girl away enough to look in her eyes. "Listen, honey, I have to finish up some business with Mr. Casey. You wait for me out here, and when I'm done we'll go do something fun."

The little girl squealed and clapped her plump hands. "Promise mommy? You promise?"

Caldwell smiled a smile that reached to her eyes. "Yes, I promise…. Now, back to aunt Kate…"

"Drake!" the girl squealed pointing toward the class. "I want to see Drake!"

Zac Efron jogged over and the little girl practically jumped into his arms. "Hey, munchin!" the teenager greeted. "You want to help me with class?"

Casey watched Caldwell as she watched Zac Efron carry the girl away.

"I'm really sorry, Jo…" the other woman said.

Caldwell turned to face her. "It's okay, Kate. In fact," Caldwell shot a sideways glance at him, "It's probably better this way. I'll take her home with me."

"Are you sure?" Kate asked looking uncertainly from Caldwell to Casey.

"Absolutely. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay… sure…" Kate retreated toward the front door. "Have a good evening."

Kate left and Caldwell turned angry hazel eyes on him. He smirked.

"Cute kid," he said. "How old is she? About four?"

"You're a bastard," she growled, her voice low so that no one else could hear. "I hate you." She walked back to the office and waited for him. He kept the smirk in place as he passed her and took a chair. He was suddenly feeling more confident about the meeting.

She closed the door and took her seat on the other side of the desk. She gave him a cold stare for several moments. "What is it that you want from me, Mr. Casey?"

"Let's start with the truth. When was the last time you saw Peter Smythe?"

"Four years ago," she said flatly.

"Uh huh," Casey said skeptically. "And did you even consider telling him that he's a father?"

She opened her mouth and then quickly closed it. She stared at him and then exhaled forcefully. "I considered it," she said.

"But you didn't tell him."

"No. I didn't want him hanging around. "

"But he is anyway," Casey countered.

"I didn't know that."

"And now that you do know, what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing," she replied. "He hasn't bothered me up to this point. I see no reason to do anything."

He stared at her a few moments, trying to decide the best course. He was aware that the child complicated matters. He was aware that even the most level-headed woman was affected by motherhood. But that's where his knowledge ended. This was uncharted territory for him.

He exhaled. "Smythe has gone rogue."

She shrugged, "That term means nothing. That's what we used to call retirement."

He leaned towards the desk and hardened his voice, "He stole something that would be very… " Casey searched for a word that wouldn't give too much away. "… bad if it fell into the wrong hands."

She frowned. "And you think he's going to sell it to the highest bidder?"

"You know intelligence analysts, they never agree… some think he'll sell it and some think he's got a personal agenda." He stared into her eyes waiting for… something. "What do you think he'll do with it?"

She shook her head minutely. "I can't imagine him doing anything serious enough to send the government after him. Peter may not always have the… uh… proper motivation, but he isn't a bad man."

"Maybe he wasn't four years ago," Casey said using his most persuasive tone, "But he is now."

She returned her eyes to his face. "So you want me to make contact with him?"

He nodded. "Figured despite the way your relationship ended you two probably set up some covert way to get in touch… just in case."

She hesitated. "Suppose he makes contact," she said. "You going to swoop in and arrest him?"

He shrugged. "Most important thing is we get the package back."

"You've been doing this a long time, haven't you?" she said shaking her head. "You're very good at speaking without really saying anything."

He shrugged.

"What happens if I refuse to help you?" she asked.

"I'd rather not say," he replied.

The pink on her cheeks shifted to red. "You going to arrest me? Take my daughter away from me?" she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

He stared at her until she barked, "Answer me, Casey!"

He waited a moment then said, "We didn't know you had a daughter. "

"But that doesn't change anything as far as the government's concerned, does it?" she growled. "The good of the many…"

"Outweighs the good of the few," he finished. "Yes, it does."

He felt a twitching sensation in his chest. In his brain he visualized ripping the thing out of his chest, throwing it in a box and slapping a padlock on it. He was a soldier, damn it. There was no room for emotions in this scenario.

He returned his attention to Caldwell. She was staring at him expectantly. "I have not been briefed on exactly what would happen if you said no. Would I get to drag you away in handcuffs? Probably. Would it be called an arrest? Doubtful. You fall under The Patriot Act."

"Indefinitely," she said through gritted teeth. He nodded. "Undisclosed location," she bit off.

He nodded again. "You know how it works."

She glared at him with more hate than he'd seen in a long while. "You're a bastard."

He shrugged. "Been called worse."

She was quiet for a few moments then tilted her head as if she were thinking something through. "You will protect my daughter," she said forcefully.

"We will," Casey said with a nod.

"I will hold you personally responsible for her, Mr. Casey. If anything happens to her…"

Casey leaned forward in the chair. "We'll keep her safe."

She searched his eyes. "You don't know Peter."

"And you don't know me," Casey countered. "However good you think Smythe is, I'm better."

She stared at him for a few moments and then slowly arched and eyebrow. Casey felt his cheeks warm at the suddenly realized innuendo in his words, but he stayed silent.

She exhaled slowly. "I guess we're going to find out."