This story is strictly for entertainment purposes, I do not own the characters. This story contains adult themes and is not suitable for children. It is a parent's job to monitor their children's internet use, not mine.
10. A Son and a Brother's Demons
Kasim poured himself a cup of tea and held the warm mug between his hands. From the beach front house, his vantage point of the ocean was spectacular, he had to admit, the scenery was quite beautiful, and the air was fresh, crisp and calming. His cell phone buzzed on the table next to him and he picked it up.
"Kasim, I have news... where you can find Michael. I will give you an exact location tomorrow... and I want you to recognize, I am a man of my word."
He looked at his phone with distaste, this Russian was interested only in money and power. He had no true purpose, only greed and he would likely perish in the depths of hell with the rest of the infidels. He had dealt with many like Ari Tasarov, but not many had a connection to Michael and Division.
"Good Ari, I'll look forward to your call. Once I hear from my people, the first third of your funds will be wired out." He hung up abruptly and stared out at the landscape.
Over the years Kasim Tariq had become something of a legend, his pathway to infamy was an ugly one and the respect he had earned from his brothers did not come easily. A tragic turn of events propelled his transition from the professional middle class to a soldier in the trenches.
He had immigrated to England with his family as a young boy, and from the very beginning he was brighter than the average student, graduating from secondary school at age sixteen, and entering Oxford that same year. He had lived the life of the privileged with his parents and a younger sister, and after completing his degree, he had become a junior financial analyst, living a comfortable life in London. Kasim was devout in his religious convictions and his political views were conservative, but neither were extreme. He looked forward to a future, finding a wife and starting a family.
We are all products of our environment, and sometimes we become victims of it as well. Twenty years before, after Operation Desert Storm had turned into Operation Desert Shield, the United States presence in the Middle East had become prevalent and unwelcome by many. The world was divided and the chasm between cultures and beliefs grew deeper, no thanks to those who justify their acts in the name of God and Politicians who justify it in the name of freedom. The years that followed were filled with bigotry and racism, many Americans refused to believe it still existed within their own borders, but in truth, it had never left. It was kept alive by the frightened and uneducated, only the target of their hatred changed from one group to another.
Kasim's nineteen year old sister had made a long anticipated trip to the U.S., she would attend the State University of New York as a study abroad student. Her parents were cautious, but she had insisted on going, and Kasim had advocated for her. Once there, living in upstate New York, she and another British student in the group, a boy, had been singled out due to their Arab heritage. Every stop along their way, they had been harassed and discriminated against. Her time there had been miserable and she was preparing to leave early, when both students had disappeared from their dormitory rooms. They had been found two days later, she raped with her throat cut, the boy mutilated and beaten to death.
When Kasim had arrived, the local authorities, the officials from the State of New York, and the U.S. State Department expressed regrets, but insinuated they shouldn't have been there in the first place, placing blame on the victims. He had been shocked at their attitude and their behavior, and when he returned to London with his sister's body, he saw the look of despair in his mother's eyes and the outrage rolling off of his father. He could not go back to his life as he knew it, and it took just under a year before he found himself back in Lebanon, and two years after that, in Yeman.
Hatred is a powerful force and it kept him pursuing his goal of becoming part of a terrorist cell that worked against the U.S. presence in the Middle East. He remained an outsider, too many had doubts about his dedication, until the fateful day he had met Michael, a Naval Intelligence Officer, newly stationed in Yemen.
He thought about Michael, the hostility in his eyes was the same that he saw in his father's, and the agony he heard in his voice, was the same as his mother's. He looked forward to a time when that look and that voice would finally stop haunting him. It would be good to deal with unfinished business, to put his mind at ease and to finally bury his demons, once and for all.
Percy had his hand wrapped around a glass of bourbon and he swirled it around absent-mindedly, he sat behind his desk, it acted as barrier between him and his resident I.T. genius. Birkhoff stood before him, he shuffled from one foot to the other, his nervous demeanor was evident, something that Percy liked seeing in those who worked under him. It was good to see a little fear.
"Like I said, Amanda's not checking in with me, I assumed she was in direct contact with you." Whenever he walked into Percy's office, he always felt like a small animal that had been cornered.
Percy used few words, he had learned it was more difficult for others to second guess him. "What about Alex?"
Birkhoff felt a little nauseous. "Well, uh, it looks like, well... she jumped ship and drove off in a vehicle. Her tracker places her in Long Island. You want me to dispatch a team to pick her up?"
Percy stared at him hard. "No. Amanda will handle it." He waited a moment before continuing. "Michael?"
Birkhoff hoped he wasn't as green as he felt. "His tracker has him in Maryland, I don't know exactly how it happened, but the signals, the frequencies got mixed up, I think Amanda may have confused..."
"That's enough." Percy cut him off abruptly. "I want you to find him and tell him I want to talk to him, now." He narrowed his eyes and they took on a threatening aura. "Tell Michael, your life depends on it."
Birkhoff turned from green to white and he nodded. "I'm on it."
Percy laughed to himself as Birkhoff walked out of the office.
The vehicle was right where she was told it would be, and they left Tasarov's sedan hidden behind a building before driving off. It was dawn, the sun was appearing over the horizon and tinted the landscape a muted shade of yellow. Michael still drove and he looked at Nikita out of the corner of his eye, she leaned her head against the window and looked lost in thought.
"Nikita, tell me the truth, tell me about Alex?" Michael's tone was subdued and controlled. "I know you've been in contact with her, I've known it since we activated her for the Mirko Dadich mission."
She looked contrite and felt defensive. "What are you going to do? Percy will cancel her if they find out. She's just a kid, I know it was wrong of me to drag her into this."
Michael knew Nikita was truly sorry, he heard the sincerity in her voice. "I have no intention of telling Percy or anyone else. If she's smart, and level-headed, this doesn't have to end badly. But, you have to understand, your quest to bring Division down has left bodies littered everywhere. Some of them were agents, they were just doing their jobs."
Nikita felt her anger surface. "Like you? You're just doing your job?"
He felt himself reacting to her rebellious nature. "I'm trying to tell you, you're going to get her killed if you keep at this. It's only a matter of time before she is in the wrong place at the wrong time. You won't always be there to save her."
"But you will... Michael, promise me, you won't let anyone harm her."
Michael gave up a sad half smile. "I've already made that promise. Nikita, I have regrets. I've made mistakes. Repeating them isn't in the ten year plan."
She wasn't sure how she should feel about his declaration, so she kept her doubts to herself. There was something she had wanted to ask him, something that she wasn't sure she wanted to know, especially now, not after unleashing her feelings.
It meant setting her pride aside. "What is it, that you see in Alex, that has your attention? What is it that makes you drawn to her? I know you care."
An uncomfortable look crossed his face, but Michael knew she needed an explanation. "When I first saw her, she was like a frightened wild animal, but when she fought the guards who held her, I knew she had that fire we look for in recruits." He gave her an ironic look. "I saw a lot of you, in her, at that moment."
Nikita searched his face for more. "She is strong, a fighter, if things were different, she'd be one of Percy's favorites. Is that all?"
Michael stared straight ahead at the road in front of him. "No, it's not. " He hesitated, his admission was more painful than he cared to admit. "When we brought her back to Division and she was sleeping off the sedative they gave her, I watched her sleep. I know it's irrational, but she looked... she looks like my daughter."
Nikita's heart broke for him and she finally understood. "Michael... "
Alex's teeth chattered from the cold, her hair hung in strings around her face, and she could feel and smell a mixture of diesel fuel and bay sludge coating her body. When she dove into the frigid and dark water, she had lost her shoes, stripped off her jacket, and swam like hell, it had only been about two hundred feet to shore, but it had felt much further. She climbed out of the water, onto the beach and ran into the dark.
When she and Amanda had been taken to the dock where Sweet Jane was tied up, she had noticed the beach and the greenbelt behind it. A black sedan was parked in the distance on a road, and a chain link fence stood between them. She climbed it, without thought to her bare feet, the cold and her adrenaline drove her on. Alex was relieved to see Thom on the other side and he caught her as she jumped down. He had received her email and timed it perfectly, arriving in the parking area just off of a ball field, he wrapped her up in a blanket before putting her in the back seat of the car, and driving off.
Alex looked nervously out the back window, searching for any signs of Amanda or Tasarov. No one appeared to be following them and she felt herself feeling a little less anxious. She faced forward again and could see Thom looking at her in the rear view mirror, they grinned at each other and at the subterfuge they had pulled off, but her good mood quickly faded, when the reality of what they were doing sunk in.
"How long before Division knows you're gone?" Alex crouched down in the back seat, she didn't want to be detected by passing traffic.
"I dunno, maybe a day, maybe a week, it depends on if they call me in for an op." He knew he should be more concerned, but right now, all he cared about was getting Alex somewhere safe.
Alex was thankful for Thom's trust, but she knew she had put him in danger with Division by accepting his help. "I think you should take me someplace to hide for a while and you should go back. It's ridiculous for us to both be fugitives."
He looked slightly amused. "Not a chance Alex, I'm not leaving you behind. We got to stick together on this one."
She felt a sense of relief hearing him say the words. "I promise, I'll make this up to you." If she hadn't been so cold and dirty, she might have laughed at the expression she saw in the rear view mirror.
Thom blushed and looked away. "I have the duffel bag you asked for, it has your clothes in it."
"Thanks, I feel totally gross! Is there someplace we can stop?"
"I'll find a motel, are you cool with that?" He sounded unsure.
Alex smiled to herself. "That'd be great, one with free soap and shampoo."
Thom nodded in agreement. "We need to put some distance between us and Amanda, once we do, I'll stop."
After driving for another forty minutes, he pulled up to a motel and parked in front of the office. "Stay here and stay low."
Alex slumped down in the back seat and she watched Thom go into the office. From the car she could see him talking to an older man with thick glasses and ten minutes later he was back and taking them to an end unit at the back of the lot.
He parked and got out of the vehicle and looked about to make sure no one was around, and helped Alex into the room. She headed towards the bathroom, and he went back to the car. He popped the trunk, retrieved two duffel bags and a large hard covered case, and took them into the room. Thom could hear the shower running. He paced the length of the room and finally stopped, before picking up one of the duffel bags and setting it near the bathroom door.
He waited until the sound of the shower stopped and he rapped on the door. "Alex, I've left your bag outside the door."
The door opened a crack and Alex peeked out, she had a towel wrapped around her head and one around her slim figure. "Thanks!" She reached out and grabbed the black bag and shut the door.
Thom felt antsy and a little trapped, he headed toward the door. "I'm going out to the vending machine to get some drinks, be right back." He left the room and went around the corner where a beat up vending machine stood. He searched his pockets for change and bought two cans of cola, but before going back to the room, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number.
"We're at the Fieldcrest Motel... she's taking a shower." Thom paused and listened. "I understand, but remember, no one gets hurt." The line went dead, and he took a deep breath, when he turned around he was startled to see Alex standing there.
Alex looked at him curiously, and he looked back at her freshly scrubbed face, her hair in a messy pile on her head.
She finally broke the silence with a funny look on her face. "I'll show you mine, if you'll show me yours."