Disclaimer: Lie to Me characters and concept do not belong to me. Nor does any dialogue or storyline that I have used that came from any actual episodes.
Chapter 14: Sacrifice
Terrorism.
This he could do. This was his specialty.
Cal was confident and determined. And so he thoroughly enjoyed pissing off anyone who got in his way, much, he knew, to Gillian's irritation. So he sent her off to work with Torres at the mosque while he antagonised FBI bureaucrats, ranging from Reynolds to the Deputy Director, to his heart's content. The fault with this plan, as he realised almost as soon as she had driven away, was that now she wasn't in his sight anymore. It made him uneasy. Not that there was much he'd be able to do if a bomb went off, but being near her in a time of danger always made him feel more relaxed.
After the second bomb (which had stopped his heart for an instant until he discovered it was at some mall in Virginia) Cal returned to the offices after interrogating the FBI's suspect, to find Zoe and Emily in his reception. Zoe informed him that she had to go in to work, and she needed him to look after Emily. That thought made him uncomfortable; the Department of Justice was a target, but Zoe was determined.
In spite of that, it was a relief to be near Emily again, and a relief to know Gillian was somewhere in the building. He was heading for her office when he spotted Torres huddled in a corner, staring out the window. He changed direction slightly, directly passing Gillian's door, and went to stand with Torres.
"Don't beat yourself up over this, all right?" he suggested in as kind a voice as he could muster. Kindness didn't come naturally to him, at least not the way it came to Gillian.
Torres eyed him, full of doubt and guilt. "I talked to the second bomber three hours before he went into that mall," she said softly. "He killed thirteen people. I looked right at him and I didn't see anything. I completely missed him." Here she looked regretfully at Cal, and added, "You know, you would've seen it. You could've stopped this."
This was a bad state of mind for her to be in, completely unproductive, so he quickly sifted through the things he could say to console her. He wasn't particularly good at that either, so he reached a decision to just share a past anecdote with her.
"All right," he said matter-of-factly. "1986, I'm in Belfast for the British. I let go of a man, that night he walks into a pub, he shoots six people. Three of them dead."
Torres stared at him, clearly taken aback by the upfront nature of that summary.
"How'd he get by you?" she asked.
"Sometimes they just do," he said with a shrug, trying not to let her see how it had torn him apart at the time. That wouldn't help. "I need you focussed, love," he said instead.
"Yeah," she mumbled, and headed off.
He frowned slightly as he watched her go, and then went to Gillian's office. She wasn't in there, so he turned to see if she was in the lab. As he rounded the corner, he almost bumped into her.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Hey."
He could see the relief in her eyes too, and kissed her quickly.
"Hello."
"Torres is upset," she told him, and he nodded.
"Yeah, I know, I just talked to her."
An apprehensive look crossed Gillian's face, and he almost smiled. "I was nice, relax," he said, and she looked a bit sheepish. At that point, Deputy Director showed up, calling to him. Gillian glanced over her shoulder, and told him that she would be in her office.
Poor Deputy Director. Cal had pretty much beaten all her authority out of her by the time the call about Dupree came. Missing Dupree.
The first thing he did was dial all the most powerful contacts he could think of, asking them to do everything in their power to locate Dupree.
The second thing he did was go to Gillian. Because he needed to talk to her about this. He felt panicky. He didn't know Dupree very well, but the guy showed up at the office every now and then, and it wasn't as though you needed to be an expert in micro-expressions to see how he and Torres felt about each other. Plus, Cal liked him. A rare state for him to be in. So he needed to talk to Gillian about what he was leaning towards doing about it.
x x x
Gillian was perched on the edge of her desk, watching a news report on the second bombing, when Cal walked in.
"Hey," she said, and then noticed that he seemed upset. "What?"
"I got a call from the Secret Service."
She frowned thoughtfully, and guessed, "Are they worried about the White House?"
"No," said Cal dismissively, as though he didn't give a flying toss about the White House, which was probably true. "Uh, Dupree's unaccounted for."
"What?" she said, as the truth of that hit her. Surely not … "Wha- Torres's boyfriend?"
Cal nodded, and sat down, and she moved to sit on the small coffee table in front of him.
" FBI heard chatter that malls were being targeted," Cal explained quietly, and she could see that he was disturbed. "Secret Service was sent in to co-ordinate security after the first bomb."
"And he was there," she breathed.
"He was there, or he was on his way there, it's unclear. Either way, he hasn't called in since the blast."
She swallowed, nervously, but nodded in determination as she stood up and said, "All right, I'll tell her."
"Hey, hey," said Cal, holding out a hand to stop her.
"What?" she asked, confused and sitting down again. She had assumed that was why he had come to her. It was an unwritten part of her job description that she was the one to break bad news to their staff. Or clients. Or pretty much anybody that Cal didn't want specifically to offend with such news.
"I don't think we should."
That stopped all thought patterns as she stared at him in disbelief.
"Cal-" she began warningly.
"She interviewed the mall bomber and she missed him," Cal said gently.
"She's not responsible!"
"She thinks she is," Cal pointed out, staring at her meaningfully, his eyes begging her to understand. "She thinks she killed those people. You want her to think her boyfriend was one of them?"
"She'd wanna know!" objected Gillian, feeling angry now. "I'd wanna know if it were you!"
"I got calls in to the director of the FBI, the head of the ATF, their people are canvassing the hospitals. There's nothing that she can do right now."
It seemed he was ignoring her point. She was feeling very upset, more upset than she would have thought. How could he just decide this?
"You'd wanna know if it were me! Or if it were Emily!"
Cal glared at her then, and she knew it was because he knew she was right. He would probably beat the shit out of anyone who would keep that kind of information from him.
"We need her focussed," was what he said, his voice firm.
She was about to object more, mainly because she could see that she had hit a nerve, and she could see that he wasn't entirely sure of himself. But then Torres poked her head in, saying "Hey, you ready to go?"
For a moment Gillian sat there, frozen, her eyes locked on Cal's. His face was clearly imploring her to do as he had asked. Damn him, and the bullshit sense of loyalty she felt for him. She felt that this was wrong with every fibre of her being, but she couldn't just go against him. He gave her a small grateful smile, and she realised that he had seen her acquiescence before she had even known it was there.
"Fine," she snapped at him, partially because she was annoyed, and partially to redirect Torres's suspicions. She knew she was a bad liar, so she needed Torres to attribute any signs she may leak to an argument with Cal.
She got up, snatched her bag off her desk, and stalked out to interview the second bomber's family, Torres in tow.
x x x
After Gillian left, Cal felt less than cheerful. She was right, of course, but so was he. He knew that he needed Torres to be as focussed as possible right now, but … If it were Gillian who was missing? Yeah, he'd absolutely kill anyone who would keep that from him. It was the thought of how he'd feel if it were Gillian more than anything that compelled him to call Zoe for help. He tended to avoid initiating contact with her if he could. Things were still a bit uncomfortable after her last visit.
So when he finally found a moment, he called her. She agreed to check at once, to his relief, and he found himself adding nervously, "And you're leaving soon, aren't you? No coffee stops, no supermarkets, just stay out of the capital, all right?"
"You always did have a funny way of saying I love you."
He froze slightly, but supposed it wasn't a complete lie. He may not be in love with her anymore, but a part of him would always love her. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and she said, "Sorry."
It had probably been some kind of reflex comment, so he muttered, "It's fine. See you soon."
And he hung up before turning to Emily. She was curled up on a couch in his library, fast asleep. He approached her, and gently eased her awake, asking if she was all right. She said she was, and he felt as though he could stay here with her all day. Unfortunately Loker chose that moment to call him to watch the videos of the suicide bombers before the bombs had gone off.
When he made it into the lab, he noticed that Gillian was there. He went to stand beside her, but she ignored him. Oh, well. They turned to focus on the videos, and realised that the so called suicide bombers were showing none of the traits that would have been expected. Gillian added that Rasheed, at least, hadn't fit the profile. Cal stared at the screen and finally said, "These are the faces of innocents. Not suicide bombers."
Of course this changed everything. Deputy Director shot off to make a call. Gillian vanished too, without a word. Cal and Reynolds went to his office to discuss the changes. Cal left his office after Reynolds had bolted out to do what he did best, and headed over to Gillian's. He found her and Torres standing outside her door, as she tried to explain to Torres that she hadn't missed the guy after all. Torres, however, was convinced that she had missed something, missed the person who had put the bomb on Rasheed.
"Oh, you didn't miss anything," said Cal with light confidence.
Torres looked closely at him, as though she was almost tempted to believe him. But she didn't.
"We need to look harder at the mosque," said Gillian, after glancing at Cal, and he knew she wanted to talk to him privately. He didn't doubt what about, and his heart sank slightly as he prepared for a second argument.
When Torres didn't move, he added firmly, "Go look at the tape."
Torres glowered at them, and stormed off.
Gillian glared at Cal, and then walked past him into his library as she asked coldly, "Any word on Dupree?"
"No, nothing yet," he said, following her. "We'll tell her when we know something new."
She stopped in front of the little staircase in his library, and turned to him as she objected, "Well, she knows she's not responsible for the second bombing now."
He felt uncomfortable. This was different from the usual disagreements they tended to have. She was taking this one very personally, and he knew he wasn't going to get off lightly as he said, "No, we've had two bombs in a day, more are likely. She's one of the few people who can actually help find these guys." Gillian sat back on one of the steps, and glared at him. He added the thing that he had recently convinced himself of. "The most productive thing she can do for Dupree, she's doing."
She bristled at him, and snapped, "Oh, I see. The whole greater good thing. Who cares about people's feelings, or what's right in the face of productivity? That's a bit too utilitarian, even for you, Cal!"
He hated this. He hated that she hated him in this moment. He hated that he was forcing her to be on his side, when he knew she wasn't. But for God's sake, she was acting as though she thought he was doing this for fun or something. So he moved to stand right in front of her, his hands on the railings on either side of her, leaning down, and said quietly, intensely, "I don't want to lie to her, Gill. You're right. If it were me, I'd want to know. If it were you, I'd want you to know."
He paused, because he realised that he was showing her all his regret, all his indecision, and he could see the surprise in her eyes.
"But this is important, and if I have to be the bad guy here, then so be it."
He spoke firmly, and stared her down. She swallowed, clenched her jaw slightly, and finally said, "I don't agree with this."
"I know you don't. I'm sorry."
He didn't tend to apologise much, but this time he had to. Because he was asking her to go against what she felt was right, for him. And he wasn't going to change his mind. And she would do it for him if he asked her to.
She stared at him, and finally muttered, "Kay."
It was a disgruntled mutter, giving in, but not by any means less angry about it. She stood up, her body pressing up against his so that he had to stand upright again. They stood there for a few moments, pressed up close, staring at each other and accepting that they weren't going to agree. It was foreign, being so much on opposite sides, and Cal felt distanced. He hated that too.
So he kissed her, longing for contact. She kissed back almost resignedly, but after a moment pulled back. She sighed, and muttered, "I'd want to know if it were you, Cal."
Here she gently pushed him back a step so that she could get out from in front of the stairs, and walk out. He watched her go, and felt guilty at the pain and fear he heard in her voice. That was why it was so personal. She was imagining it to be him.
x x x
Gillian was in the lab when her phone rang. It was Cal, and she sighed before answering.
"Hey."
"They found Dupree," he told her, and her heart leapt. "He was stuck in an elevator at the mall, and he's unconscious but alive. He's at Virginia Metropolitan. Torres is on her way there now."
He spoke robotically, as though he needed to get the information across to her, not quite knowing where they stood. She was relieved, though. Relieved that they had found him, that he was alive, and that Torres knew.
"You going there too?" she asked him.
"No, gave her my car."
Well, right there she felt as though she had fallen in love with him all over again.
"That – was nice of you."
"Hm, rare, I know," he teased, and she could hear the slight relief at her comment.
"I didn't mean-"
"It's all right, love."
"Thanks for telling me."
"We friends again?"
He tried to sound light hearted, but she knew how much he meant the question.
"We're always friends," she said softly, and then added, "I'm going there, too."
Here he paused, and she wondered what the problem was. Finally he merely said, "Be safe," and she realised he didn't want her leaving the building.
"You, too," she said firmly.
x x x
She walked into the right passage in time to see Dupree being wheeled out of a room, Torres at his side. Gillian looked into his face, and felt a wave of nausea. What if that had been Cal? She didn't know why she was so terrified of the thought, but somehow knowing that it had hit Torres's man … made more real the possibility that it could hit hers.
"How's he doing?" she asked Torres once he had been wheeled away.
"He's got blood in his brain," said Torres. She looked and sounded distraught. "A haematoma. He was in an elevator for four hours. Nobody knew where he was," she finished bitterly, and Gillian felt guilt wash over her.
"What was that?" Torres asked her, frowning.
Several swear words flew through Gillian's brain, because she knew she was caught. "What?" she said anyway.
"That look." Her voice was becoming dangerous, and her face darkened as comprehension dawned over her. "Did you know? You knew he was missing?"
Gillian fought for the right thing to say. How could she defend this when she didn't even believe in it? She tried for one of Cal's arguments, saying, "There was nothing you could've done," but it came out weak and unconvincing.
"Nothing I could have done."
Torres was staring incredulously at her, and Gillian murmured gently, "Ria …"
"Oh, wait wait wait," interrupted Torres, clearly reading her shame. "I see, I see, okay. It wasn't- it wasn't you, was it? Lightman decided not to tell me."
Again, Gillian tried desperately to explain Cal's reasoning, stuttering out, "Everything possible was – was being done to find Dupree and Cal relies on you-"
"I don't believe this, I really don't," said Torres, glaring at Gillian. "Lightman plays God, and you make excuses for him."
"Ria-"
"You leave me the hell alone."
Torres stormed off, and Gillian felt desperately miserable. It wasn't really fair that she was being hit with the blame here, but that was the deal when you were part of a team. One member of the team screws up, and everyone takes the hit. She and Cal were a team, so she knew this was how it had to work. But it still stung.
She went to her car, and dialled Cal's number.
"How is he?" he asked by way of answering the phone.
"Um …" What was it Torres had said? "Haematoma. They're going to operate."
"What's the matter?"
She hesitated, and then realised there were tears leaking down her cheeks. She wanted to control it, but she knew he already knew she was crying.
"Um, she knows we knew," she said shakily.
There was a pause, and she could just picture Cal shaking his head at her inability to keep a secret. She was about to speak up in her defence, but he spoke first, saying, "I'm so sorry."
Surprised, she gave a small sniff and asked, "Why?"
"Well, she's obviously pretty pissed at you, and it's not your fault."
"She knows it was you," Gillian corrected, fishing around in her glove compartment for a tissue.
"Of course she does," said Cal gently. "You'd never do something like this."
"But I did, technically," said Gillian, wiping her eyes, hoping the tears would stop soon.
"Because I made you. So, like I said, I'm sorry."
Gillian had nothing to say to that really, so she blew her nose gently, murmuring an apology of her own into the phone.
"Get back here, okay?" he said, ignoring her.
"On my way," she said, wishing she didn't have to drive to get to him.
"See you soon, darling."
x x x
When Gillian got back to the Group, Cal was just arriving back, too, with Reynolds who was lugging a large box. She held the door open for him, and Cal took her hand as they walked in behind him.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
She gave him a look that said, "Not really," but then a smile saying, "I will be."
They paused in front of his office, Reynolds already having headed inside, and Cal said, "We found these tapes that some FBI agent illegally recorded conversations in the bathrooms in the mosque on."
"And we wonder why they don't like us," sighed Gillian.
Cal gave the tiniest smile of agreement, and it felt nice to be back on the same side.
"I'll be in my office, okay?" she said, because she just needed to regroup a little.
He nodded, and said, "Get me if you need me."
x x x
Emily sighed as she sauntered glumly around the hallways. She wished her parents didn't both have to be involved in this whole terrorist case, because she was stuck on her own with little else to do but worry. It would have been fine if they had just let her go to Dan's place, but whatever, they were just overly paranoid.
She turned back into the corridor with her dad's and Gillian's offices, and decided that she may as well return to the little library, the only place with anything she could do. As she drew level with Gillian's office, she glanced inside and saw Gillian sitting at her desk.
Emily felt her heart lift slightly. Gillian hadn't really been around much today and she was the one person Emily had felt like talking to, so she changed direction and knocked on her door gently, opening it as Gillian glanced up.
"Hey," said Gillian, getting to her feet at once. "How're you doing?"
"It's so crazy," sighed Emily, not feeling the need to pretend she was okay like with her father. "I mean, I heard forty people died already. And a bunch of them are my age."
"Yeah, it is," Gillian agreed, turning off the TV. "But everything's gonna be fine."
Emily felt a flash of irritation at that comment, and snapped, "No, adults always say that, but I mean … It's not fine."
She stared at Gillian, who seemed to suddenly focus on her, and Emily realised that she had been distracted. She was obviously a bit off her game, because that had, in fact, been a very un-Gillian thing to say.
"Hey, are you okay?" Emily asked her before she could say anything. "I mean, I kind of heard you and Dad arguing earlier ..."
She faltered, feeling guilty, but she had been in her father's office playing solitaire on his laptop when she had heard them in his library. She hadn't been able to hear what they had been saying, but she knew they had been having a disagreement.
Gillian looked slightly surprised, but not angry, and she said, "I'm sorry you heard that ..."
"No, I mean, it's fine," Emily objected. "People argue. I just wondered, because you look a bit upset."
She faltered again, because Gillian didn't tend to confide in her. Or in anyone other that her dad, as far as she could tell.
"Sorry if I'm being nosy," she said quickly.
"That's all right," said Gillian with one of those kind smiled that made Emily feel safe. "It's just been a stressful day, and you're right, arguing with your dad obviously doesn't help much. But we're fine now, Em, I promise."
Emily smiled too, feeling better. She hadn't been frightfully worried; she of all people recognised truly dangerous arguments, and that hadn't been one of them. But she didn't like knowing that her dad and Gill were on the outs with each other.
"That's good," she said. "You need each other on days like today."
At that point, there was a gentle knock on Gillian's door, and they both turned to see Heidi indicating towards Emily.
"Your mum's here," said Gillian, and Emily felt gloomy. Of course her mum would arrive the moment she actually found something to do. "You should pack up your stuff."
She kissed Gillian's cheek, and said, "Feel better, Gill," before turning to leave the room.
x x x
After deciding to use the tapes, Cal sent them off to be reviewed in the lab. When he decided to check on the progress a little while later, he walked in on Loker, Reynolds and Gillian, amongst others, just as the computer picked up on an argument, a voice yelling out, "It's unacceptable! Completely unacceptable! People who do things like this must be punished!"
Cal watched Gillian as she listened intently. She had clearly recognised the voice.
"Stress is up on all the negative words, and you hear that vocal tremor?" Loker was saying. "That could be repulsion or disgust."
"And how the hell are we supposed to match a voice with a name?" demanded Reynolds irritably.
"Well, Gillian never forgets a voice," said Cal, smiling warmly at her.
For the first time that day, her eyes twinkled at him, and she said pointedly to Reynolds, "Some of us are just better at listening than others."
"Thank you," Cal grunted, suppressing a smile. This was more normal.
Once she told them it was Rasheed's father, they had him at the Group almost instantly. Horrified, he realised that his nephew was behind the bombings, and that was more or less that.
As soon as it was all over, Cal headed out to see Torres at the hospital. Gillian had offered to join him, but he had declined, telling her he'd meet her at her place later. She didn't need the anger Torres had likely been cultivating all afternoon.
Of course, Torres had been furious, and it had taken a fair amount of snark and lecturing to talk her down before he had stormed off. This was the problem with youth, he thought. Nothing was more important than themselves.
There was a reason Gillian "indulged" him, as Torres had accused in disgust. She trusted him to do the right thing. She trusted in his judgment, even when she didn't agree with it. The only one who trusted him so unconditionally, the only one who ever had.
She understood the point. And that was why they were partners. Not business partners. Partners in life.
x x x
TBC
A/N: Hope you enjoyed that, thanks for reading :-)