Part Twelve
Josh sat still and worked the problem through in his mind, trying to come up with another plausible explanation for Donna's abduction. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't arrive at an alternate scenario. Donna was humoring him when she backed down and agreed that Amy was a likely suspect, he could tell by her placating tone of voice -- the dripping sarcasm was a tip-off, too, but he was certain he was right. He'd just have to prove it to her.
She was currently in the kitchen, arranging for a meeting with Toby's F.B.I. friend. Josh had a plan, one that would hopefully free Donna from the mystery surrounding her past two years. His only hurdle would be convincing the feds -- and Donna -- that it was their best course of action.
"Are you okay?"
Josh jumped, startled by the intrusion into his thoughts, but quickly recovered. "I'm fine," he assured her. "Just thinking."
Donna smiled and sat next to him on the couch, leaning into him and nudging him with her shoulder. "Deep thoughts?"
Chuckling, he nudged her back. "Of course!" When she rolled her eyes, he decided not to pursue the banter and instead asked about her phone call.
"It's all set," she explained. "I was talking to Agent Walters and telling him about your theory when C.J. rang though on the other line. Between the two of them, we've set up a meeting tonight at C.J. and Toby's house."
"Are you going to be able to do that?" Josh asked. "What if you're being watched?"
"I thought of that, and that's why we're meeting over at C.J.'s." Donna leaned back and pulled her legs up onto the couch, curling them underneath. "The agents will be there already when we arrive. They're being car-pooled over by Toby."
"Agents?" Josh turned to question Donna about her plural use and saw her smile.
"Agents, as in more than one." She shook her head and laughed. "It seems Leo isn't all that good at keeping secrets from the President. When he found out about me, he insisted that Special Agent Mike Casper get involved. Mike talked to Toby and got in touch with Agent Walters who had already talked to another Agent who's supposed to be an expert on Alan Shastro." She took a deep breath and shrugged. "Hence, the plural."
"The more the merrier," Josh agreed. "As long as they can get the job done." He stood and stretched, working out the kinks in his shoulders with wide sweeping circles of his arms. "What time are we supposed to meet up with everyone?"
"Later tonight," Donna replied from behind.
Josh turned and regarded Donna, sitting on the couch with her legs curled up. He was struck at once by her beauty and strength. A lesser person would have been in pieces going though what she was going through. Instead, she was resolved to fixing the problem and getting on with her life. He'd never loved her more, but it was taking its toll on her.
"You look tired," he commented, taking a step toward her.
She waved his assessment away and shook her head. "Nah. I'm fine."
"You need to take a nap," he concluded. "Let me take care of you for once." He grinned when her eyes softened.
"Maybe I will take a nap. You can get out of here for a while -- if you have something else to do, that is."
"I don't have anything to do that can't wait. Besides," he smirked, "I really don't want to go home right now. Can I stay here? I could watch TV and work on my speech while you nap."
Her eyes brightened with the suggestion, and she nodded. "That sounds good." She stood and pointed down the hallway. "I'll be in the guest room. Can you wake me around five?"
"Sure." His heart tugged as she turned and walked away. For a few minutes, he just stood, unmoving, staring down the hall where she'd gone, wondering what to do about the strong urge he felt to follow her. 'Don't act on it,' he thought, tearing himself away from the spot to which he'd been rooted. 'Get yourself together.'
With that admonishment, Josh settled onto the couch and flipped on the television, immersing himself in the mindlessness of the Weather Channel, his speech forgotten.
* o *
"Theresa."
Donna turned her attention away from the television and looked over her shoulder. The room had been darkened, and the stream of light coming in through the now-opened door caused her to squint until her eyes adjusted.
Alan walked in, a videotape in his hand. "I've got something else for you to watch," he said, and she nodded.
Donna particularly hated this part of the program. She had been able to keep up with the physical training without much trouble, something that honestly pleased her to no end, but the mental conditioning was altogether different.
It was becoming harder and harder to resist the suggestions, and she was afraid that Alan, or one of his henchmen, would figure out that she wasn't the 'Theresa' they thought they were creating. She was still Donna Moss, trying hard to figure out why she was being used and trained for such violent acts. Most of all, she wanted to find out who was really behind the entire situation.
She'd heard Alan on the phone, talking to someone about her progress. In those bits of conversations, it had become clear that hers wasn't some random abduction. She had been taken for a purpose, and it was clear to Donna that the person Alan updated on a regular basis had masterminded the whole affair.
Finding that out, and getting away, were the things that kept her mind strong enough to fight the drugs they gave her every night. Those and the overwhelming desire to see her friends and family again.
Alan ejected the tape Donna had been watching and placed the new tape in the VCR. He hesitated before pressing 'play' and turned around, carefully placing his hands in his pockets and leaning back against the entertainment center. "You've been asking me why you've been training so hard," he explained. "I've told you that you'd find out in time. You've done an exceptional job, and we're very proud of you, Theresa, and we're ready to show you your target."
Cringing inside but displaying overt joy, Donna beamed and nodded, ready to see whom she had been trained to kill. She knew that's what they had been training her to do -- that was the easy part. No one trained in hand-to-hand, focusing on offense rather than defense, in addition to firearm training and the bevy of other weapons she had used over the past several months, without the express purpose of becoming an assassin.
As Alan stepped away from the television, his smile turned her stomach. He picked up the remote and started the tape. "This is your target. Play close attention to the security video clips. They will help." With that, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him and plunging the room into darkness once more.
The static cleared on the set, drawing Donna's attention to the pictures. The bile rose in her throat when she realized what she was seeing, and she pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from screaming.
Josh.
Josh on Capitol Beat. Josh on Meet the Press. Josh in news conferences. Josh at photo ops. Then, a gray, grainy film of a crowd outside at night which kept looping over and over again. It took Donna a moment to put the pieces together, but when she did it horrified her.
The crowd looked like any normal crowd at the beginning of the loop, milling about, standing behind a barrier of some sort while reaching out for some people walking toward cars on the other side of the barrier. Then, something happened -- there was no sound on this tape, only video -- and the crowd began to scatter in terror. It was then that the camera froze and the picture zoomed in, obviously an edit from Alan's techo-gurus, to show Josh.
Tears poured down her cheeks and her chest tightened. What she was seeing, what had been frozen and blown up for her to study, was the exact moment that the bullet had ripped through Josh's chest. It wasn't the gore of the wound that sickened her -- it was the look of terror and shock on his face that broke her heart.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to use her new training to get out of this hell she'd been thrust in to. Instead, she silently watched the tape loop and play once again, swallowing her tears and anger but feeling her resolve weaken with each passing second.
* o *
The screams woke Josh from a deep sleep, and he leapt from the couch, nearly tripping over his own feet as he sprinted down the hall to Donna's room. He threw open the door and froze.
Donna continued to scream, sitting up in bed and staring straight ahead but apparently seeing nothing. Her hands clenched the pillow, which looked near to the point of shredding. It occurred to him, in the fraction of a second he allowed for thought, that this is what she must have gone through with him when she was helping him through his recovery.
He ran to the bed and grabbed her hands, pulling the pillow from her vise-like grip. "Donna!" He shook her lightly, trying to break through the fog of the nightmare and pull her into reality. "Donna, wake up!"
She began to struggle, wrestling to remove her hands from his grasp, and he realized she was strong -- much stronger than he remembered. He released her hands and grabbed her shoulders, giving them a less-than-gentle shake in one more attempt to break her from her terror.
"Donna! Wake up!"
Her screams stopped and her eyes seemed to regain their focus, staring first at the wall, then turning to him. "Josh?" she whispered, raising her trembling hands to his face.
"I'm here," he said as she touched his cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere." He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her as she collapsed against him, the sobs wracking her body.
He held her and rocked her, rubbing his hands on her back and arms as she cried it out, whispering words of comfort. He had known in his heart that she was acting stronger than she really was, and this was all the confirmation he needed. She was an emotional wreck.
"It'll be okay," he said when her sobs subsided and her breathing began to return to normal. She sniffled, and he leaned back, taking her chin in his hand. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
"No," she quickly said. "Not right now."
He nodded, recalling how he had felt after many of his nightmares. He hadn't wanted to talk about them either, simply because he knew how they would have upset her. Josh assumed that she was operating on the same reasoning. "Whenever you're ready," he told her.
She smiled and wiped her cheeks, then looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. As if flipping a switch, she became all business. "It's getting late. I'd better get cleaned up."
Josh leaned back as Donna stood and began puttering around the room, amazed at her resiliency. "Donna," he said and she paused and turned. "If anyone can beat this, you can."
She smiled and his heart swelled. "You really can be sweet sometimes," she said with a wink.
"Yeah, well, don't let that get out, okay?" Josh shifted on the bed and returned her wink with a smirk.
"Your secret is safe with me," she promised, crossing her heart with her finger. "Now get out so I can change."
Josh sighed and stood, snapping his fingers in an 'aww-shucks' motion. "I just can't win, can I?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the missile and ducked just in time. The balled up socks bounced off the door and ricocheted back, hitting him in the shoulder. He laughed and quickly stepped out, closing the door before the next volley hit with a thud.
Tbc . . .
