Author's Note: A huge thanks to everyone who's reviewing!
Lisa: I am so very glad you enjoyed the chapter. It was a fun one to write. Chapter 13, with the action, was written in an hour—tops—while I was supposed to be getting ready for something else. I think that actually helped keep the tension on for me, which helped the story.
As always, hope you all enjoy this chapter! ~lg
oOo
Aaron didn't get to the CIA office until after Jason and Marta. Instead, he wound his way through Chicago long enough to make certain no one could follow him. He parked the motorcycle next to the car Jason had used to spirit Marta away from Byer's compound and slowly made his way upstairs. The wind from being on the back of the bike had dried the sweat he'd worked up in infiltrating the base, and he couldn't wait to jump in a shower.
Instead, he found Landy and Jason hunched over a computer when he walked into the crisis suite. Landy straightened the moment she saw him. "Cross?"
Aaron caught her glance at his hands and shrugged off her concern over the cuts there. "I'm good."
She took him at his word and nodded to a door to her left. "Dr. Shearing's in there."
Pushing through the door, he found a small living space on the other side. Like any good CIA field office, this one had a couch where agents and analysts could crash for a couple of hours or shower if needed. Three people were in the room, two of them turning when he entered. Nicky sat on the couch near Marta's feet, the former trying to coax the latter into allowing the doctor to treat her wounds. Marta was beyond pale, her eyes closed and face pinched as she pointedly and very colorfully told Nicky "no" in several languages. Aaron grinned, knowing she only knew those words in Hungarian and German because he'd taught her. It hadn't been intentional, but she'd picked them up after Johannesburg and used them only when she got really angry.
Nicky threw Aaron a very pointed glance, and he moved across the room. "Marta?"
Her eyes popped open, and she barely waited for him to crouch next to her before she climbed into his arms. Aaron held her close, feeling the shiver in her body as he nodded to Nicky. He had this. Nicky took that as her cue to leave, and Aaron managed to get himself and Marta back on the couch. His foot nudged the plastic-lined trash can that had been near her head, telling him that she still hadn't recovered.
When she didn't respond any more than to cling to him, Aaron tipped his head to see her face. "Marta? What's going on?"
"I don't. . . .I just. . . .He gave me something. A drug. . .it's. . .Everything is spinning, and. . . ." She spoke into his chest, her words not making much sense.
Aaron had known Marta long enough that he managed to interpret most of what she said. He eyed the doctor waiting, his question clear.
The doctor sighed. "We won't know what she was given until we do some blood tests. But she's been a little too panicked to let us take samples."
Aaron immediately understood. Marta had been in Byer's custody long enough to sustains several decent cuts and bruises. Not to mention the effects of whatever this drug was. He quickly brushed her hair from over her face, talking to her as he did. "Marta, you've got to let them run their tests. They're just taking blood and maybe giving you something to help with the nausea. I'm right here. Okay? I won't let anything happen."
She took several more deep breaths before nodding. The doctor settled on the other end of the couch and, with as little fuss as possible, drew several vials of blood. Aaron didn't push Marta away from him, knowing his presence was the only thing keeping her from completely losing it.
Finally, the doctor settled back. "I'll get these to the lab and get them analyzed," he said, labeling the vials with an alias already set up for Marta. "Give me a few moments, and I'll get her cuts treated."
Aaron's eyes snapped to him. "I'll take care of that, Doc."
The doctor picked up on his unspoken message. "Okay. Get her cleaned up and treated. I'll be back later with something for the symptoms." He left without further complaint.
As soon as the door closed behind the doctor, Aaron shifted to disentangle himself from Marta. She flopped back on the couch, cringing as she did so, and then let out a groan. Aaron dove for the trash can, getting it to her in time for her to try to empty her already-empty stomach. After she finished, he reached for the bottle of water on the table nearby. Marta took several sips and sighed. "I hate drugs."
Her voice lacked the conviction that statement required, which made it more humorous than it should have been. Or maybe Aaron was just tired. Either way, he managed to chuckle. "Come on," he said as he stood and helped her to her feet. "Let's get you in a shower."
Marta held on to him when she swayed. "I don't think I can stand up."
"You can." Aaron waited until she'd got her balance to lead her toward the tiny bathroom. "Any ideas what they gave you?"
"None." She blinked when he turned on the light. "Ouch."
"Headache?"
"Bad."
Aaron left her leaning against the sink and flipped on all the lights in the break room. Then, he killed the light in the bathroom, leaving the two of them with enough illumination to see but not enough to aggravate Marta's head. She'd never been prone to migraines, so seeing her so messed up shook him more than a little. He waited until he realized she wouldn't budge. "C'mon," he said again. "You need to clean up. And then sleep."
Marta nodded and didn't fight when he helped her out of his jacket. She shivered when the cool air hit her skin until Aaron wrapped a clean towel around her shoulders. He reached into the shower, turning on the water and setting its temperature before eying her. "I'll step out while you get in. Then, I'll wait here until. . . ."
"Aaron, you've already seen it all."
He frowned at her. "You need the privacy," he said simply, seeing the relief in her eyes when he did. "I'll collect up some first aid stuff and get everything bandaged when you're done. But a shower will help."
She nodded, not quite happy with his response, and he left the room. In the break room, he took a deep breath. Like she'd pointed out, he had seen it before, but he wasn't in the mood to become even more angry when he saw the bruises all over her body. Right now, Marta needed to get the grime and smell of Byer's compound off of her body, and he needed to think clearly.
The doctor had left a first aid kit on the table along with a note detailing some instructions. Marta's body required food and water even if she couldn't hold anything down, and several cans of soup had been provided. Aaron kept one ear tuned to the bathroom and Marta's condition while he sorted his supplies. Then, he warmed some of the soup in the microwave, straining out the noodles and putting the broth in an insulated cup. It would stay warm for her if it took her a while to sip it.
In the bathroom, Marta finished her shower. Aaron stood just outside the door, handing her towels and waiting while she dressed. He heard her stumble once, but her quiet comment that she'd be okay kept him in place. After being in Byer's custody, she needed to do as much on her own as possible. It would help her regain her equilibrium and sense of security quicker if he didn't hover in the same room. With that thought in mind, he returned to the couch and waited.
She finally appeared wearing a set of sweats someone thoughtfully provided. She'd clumsily wrapped a towel around her wet hair, and Aaron smiled. It was a sight he'd missed for too long now, and he stood as she made her way to the couch. Pushing the insulated cup into her hands, he ordered her to drink while he looked over her wounds. Her face was a mass of bruises that would take a couple weeks to fully heal, and she had a split lip. The shower had washed the grime and tear stains from her face, giving him a decent idea of just what Byer had done. On her neck, she had several more bruises where she'd been injected with the unknown drug, and she struggled to keep her eyes open long enough to finish her soup. As a doctor, she understood the need for sustenance even if she didn't particularly like it, and Aaron fought with a smile every time she scowled at the cup as if it offended her.
His amusement faded as he treated her wounds. More bruises littered her body, both from her time in the compound and when Byer's men ran her off the road. Pushing aside the anger they caused, he reached for the first aid kit and gently bandaged her wrists and the other injuries. Then, he took her hair from the towel and carefully combed it out while she wrapped a blanket around herself.
Finally, he convinced her to lay down and rest. She continued to shiver until Aaron covered her with the blanket. He lifted her hair from her neck, ignoring her pale face and shaking hands. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
"Aaron?" Marta's soft voice came as he moved toward the bathroom to hang up the towels she'd used.
He returned to her side. "I'm right here."
"I'm sorry." She blinked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. "I was gonna tell you when I got to your house that I'm sorry. That I've been so selfish and so undeserving and. . . ."
"Shh." He crouched beside the couch, letting his grip on her hand shift as he ran his other hand down her face. "What's all this about?"
"You. . .you're always there." She met his eyes, surprisingly lucid in spite of the drug's effect on her body. Now that she'd calmed, her mind had finally started working. "And I just took that for granted and gave you just enough to keep you around. And you've never complained."
"Marta. . . ." He clamped down on his tired response. "Why don't you sleep, and we'll talk about this later?"
"No." Her tone reminded him of the first time he'd saved her life. When he'd told her they needed to clear out of her house, she'd agreed with that same low, determined voice.
Shifting to sit on the edge of the couch, he thought about his response. He had so much to say to her, but he didn't want to push her away. "Marta, I love you, and you know that. I think you've known that all along. So, if you need to live in the city, I'll take what I can get."
"You shouldn't have to." She shook her head, closing her eyes as she did so to keep from losing the bit of broth she'd managed to drink. "You shouldn't feel like you only get what's left of me when. . . ."
"I don't."
"Yes, you do." She opened her eyes and pushed herself upright. "Aaron, I can't say I love you if I don't give up what I want for what's best for us. I thought. . . ." She shifted and let herself fall back, wincing when her head hit the arm of the couch. "Byer said something while he had me, and he got me thinking. He said you were a lab rat. That I created you."
"You shouldn't believe anything he says."
"Thing is, I did!" She tightened her grip on his hand. "Before. . .before Manila, I did. And I thought I was doing the right thing. Then, we ran and everything happened and Sydney was just so wonderful and we had Johannesburg and then we came to Chicago and. . . ."
"Marta. Breathe." Aaron watched while she did so, knowing her emotions had run away with her.
She blew out a deep breath. "I thought coming here—to Chicago—was the right move. You wanted me to take the job, and I wanted to go back so badly, but. . . ." She started crying. "Now, I'm not so sure. Now, I just want you and what we had in Sydney without all the complications of running or living in two different cities."
Aaron blinked as he realized what she was saying. She was ready to fully commit. Granted, she was strung out on whatever Byer had given her, and Aaron intended to have a long talk after it wore off. But part of him latched onto her words and likely wouldn't let go. If she really wanted everything, as she said, he would hold her to it. But if she didn't. . . .He hated the thought that he might have unrealistic expectations once she managed to recover from this latest incident. It had happened after their move to Chicago, and the last thing he wanted was to have his dreams tossed out the window yet again.
Reaching up and brushing her wet hair from her face, he sighed. "Go to sleep, Marta," he said softly. "We'll talk when you wake up."
She sighed as she closed her eyes, her grip on his hand tightening. "I love you, Aaron."
He smiled at her whispered words even though she'd already drifted to sleep. He'd heard them before, in Sydney. Instead of panicking like he had back then, he took a moment to think about what might be in store for them. They'd changed in the last year. By settling into their own homes and leading separate lives, they'd learned just what the other person meant to them. It had proven to him just how badly he needed Marta in his life, and he'd been willing to settle for whatever she gave him.
That would change. Not because Marta wanted it to, but because he wanted it to. He'd nearly lost her to Byer, and it had proven several things to him. But those thoughts would have to wait for a better time, when he could talk with Marta and work out what their new relationship would be. Because, like her, he wanted what they had in Sydney and more. And he'd do whatever he had to to have that again.
oOo
With Aaron there to handle Marta, Nicky returned to the crisis suite to find one very angry Landy looking over a tech's shoulder while Jason gave her a debrief of his mission. He'd fought a lot less than Aaron, but he still looked tired. Or maybe it was the headache. The sun had set, and the constant flashing of monitors in the crisis suite had to aggravate his eyes.
The main screen showed the fire at the compound. Nicky had been next to Landy when it happened. Strike Teams Alpha and Charlie had been inside, Bravo having pulled back to the perimeter to help cover Jason's escape with Marta and the intel they had downloaded. Somehow, Byer had slipped the net, aided by the compound's explosion. The man responsible for Outcome and Aaron Cross's enhancements didn't make mistakes like bringing his compound down on his own head. Simple logic told them he was long gone.
As soon as the explosion flashed across their monitors, the comms had filled with a variety of chatter. Strike Team Bravo asked for orders, Landy demanded to know what had happened, and Nicky tried to contact both Jason and Aaron. Aaron had managed a quick check-in before biting off a curse, and she'd heard tires squealing over the line. Jason took a few more moments, but he did warn them to have a doctor ready when he got back to base.
The initial excitement had faded, leaving behind some furious and grief-stricken CIA analysts and operatives. Nicky saw the same anger reflected in Jason's eyes, but he had shut down. Right then, Landy needed him calm and thinking clearly, not rattled like everyone else. Byer had made a huge mistake in trying to draw Outcome 5 to him, and it showed in the burning husk of the building on the screen.
One of the analysts turned to Landy. "Our teams are on the scene."
"What's our cover?"
"Department of Homeland Security." The tech knew as well as anyone there that the DHS was an umbrella organization for all of the alphabet agencies. It came in handy, however, in incidents such as this. "We've been given access to the scene, and all information is being routed through here."
Landy nodded. "Good. Keep me posted." She moved to another tech. "Where are we with that information?"
The poor guy had been tasked with downloading the flash drive that Jason had filled with Byer's files. Not all of them were there as the compound had only been an "outpost," but enough intel had made its way into the CIA's hands to put a real crimp in Byer's organization. The tech now shrugged. "There's a lot of stuff here," he said helplessly. "It's going to take time to sort through."
Landy put a hand on his shoulder. "Take your time. We don't want to miss something important." She turned to Jason. "Any idea where Byer would go?"
"No." Jason met her eyes. "Cross knows him better than we do."
Landy received his message loud and clear. She turned back to watching the fire that had claimed two of her teams and left Nicky and Jason to their thoughts.
Nicky retreated to a chair, her eyes morbidly drawn back to the flickering screen. Jason stayed with the analysts looking over the information he'd retrieved, giving Nicky the time she needed to cope. Everything had happened so fast in the last day that she hadn't fully handled being back in contact with the CIA. She'd been thrown into the operation to infiltrate Byer's compound, and she hadn't given it a single thought. Now, however, it remained forefront in her mind.
She was in the same room as the agency that had tried multiple times to kill her. Nicky's eyes followed Landy as the older woman paced around the room. She had so many conflicting memories of her time with the CIA. The agency had brought her and Jason together, but it had also taken Jason from her. It had killed the woman Jason loved, and it had resulted in years spent on the run as Nicky just tried to stay alive. When Jason first appeared in Seattle not three months ago, she'd been completely unwilling to even take the CIA's offered payout.
But coming to Chicago had changed everything. She'd finally taken the money and put it in an account while she decided what to do with it. In her mind, it was too little, too late. She knew Jason agreed with her, but they'd never discussed it. Instead, she'd let herself get caught up in Aaron and Marta's lives, her work at the coffee shop, and her own issues that seemed childish now that Byer had made his presence known.
Jason startled her from her thoughts as he sat down beside her. "You okay?"
Nicky shrugged. "I never wanted to come back," she said softly and honestly. "But, here I am."
He nodded. "You did good today."
Nicky rolled her eyes, but Aaron reappeared before she could comment. She stood and joined Landy as he nodded tiredly. "Marta's sleeping, but she's not good. The drug Byer gave her did a real number."
"We'll keep an eye on her," Landy promised. "She can stay here or in one of our safe houses until she's back on her feet."
Aaron met Landy's eyes. "I'm not leaving her."
"I'm not asking you to." Landy didn't shy away from the ferocity in Aaron's gaze. "I'm offering the help of the agency while we figure out the next step."
Aaron frowned and glanced at Jason, who nodded. The message was clear. Jason trusted Landy, and Aaron trusted Jason. The Outcome agent sighed. "Okay," he agreed. "Where are we?"
Like the flip of a switch, Jason and Aaron returned to work, leaving Nicky to her thoughts. She watched the two men gather around the tech, almost snickering when the poor guy gave first Jason and then Aaron a wary glance. Seeing they didn't need her at the moment, she quietly slipped into the break room to check on her friend. Marta slept soundly on the couch, her drying hair fanned out on the pillow behind her. A bucket waited for the next bout with nausea, and Nicky saw the bandages around her wrists.
This was what Byer had done to her friends. And the CIA, no matter their dubious history with Jason and Nicky, had gotten her out. If for no other reason, Nicky decided she'd do whatever she could to help Landy bring Byer down.
oOo
Pamela Landy had never been a careless woman. Everything she did in the CIA had a purpose, even if it had landed her in front of a Senate hearing and under investigation for leaking classified documents to the press. Some of her actions could have been viewed as mistakes, but her strong sense of right and wrong had never truly failed her. She might have been deceived at times, thinking that Bourne was a threat when the true threat stemmed from within her organization, but she worked to never violate that innate morality.
Now, she watched Bourne and Cross settle behind computers and begin sorting through the intel they'd risked their lives to get. Both men were tired, and Landy could see the toll Marta's captivity had taken on Cross. She'd managed to get to know that pair a bit during their take-down of NRAG and its programs, and she'd always been impressed with Cross's devotion to his doctor. Those two shared a very special relationship, one forged on the run and strong enough to get through this latest crisis.
Bourne, however, had changed since Cross brought him home. Landy could see the subtle differences between the man she'd led to Treadstone's training facility and the one sitting in her crisis suite. He was softer, less wary, and definitely more open toward Nicky. Landy shook her head at the irony of it all. Somehow, those two had managed to survive insurmountable odds and still came out able to care for those around them.
Tom Cronin, her assistant, wandered over to the pair and shared a quiet conversation. Landy let the men work. Right then, her focus could not narrow solely to the information Jason had risked his life to get. She also needed to keep an eye on the fire and figure out how her teams had been killed. The anger that burned in her reminded her of the moment she learned just how depraved Noah Vosen really was. Treadstone and Blackbriar had nearly destroyed her, and she had just as much of a need to bring Byer down as Bourne or Cross. Those two were involved personally, but Landy's need came from years of secrets and betrayals that nearly cost her her sanity.
"Pam." Tom's soft voice drew her attention back to the four men hunched over computers. She turned as he motioned for her. "We have something."
Cross sat back in his chair, a serious expression on his face. "Byer's got an asset with him. Not the one who's been watching Nicky and Marta. I killed him. Someone else, someone scarier."
Landy pulled up a chair. "Walk me through it."
Cross met her eyes. "Remember LARX? Remember how tough they were to take down?"
"Yes." She hated thinking about what NRAG and Byer's work had done to those people. By the time they'd been turned loose on the world, they'd been reduced to mere automatons, living only for the mission. Once triggered, they acted and didn't stop until they or their targets had been killed. Any and all emotion had been bred out of them, and the one attempt to deprogram a LARX agent had resulted in catatonia, coma, and death.
Now, Cross shook his head. "I don't know how Byer did it, but he managed to make Vendel into one of these agents. Difference is there's a triggering phrase. Until that phrase is spoken, Vendel is himself. Once it's spoken, he becomes LARX, Treadstone, and Outcome all rolled into one."
Landy blinked. "What's the phrase?"
"I don't know." Cross glanced at Jason. "The files don't tell us what it is, but. . . ." He paused, taking a moment to mull over what he had to say. "If Byer sends him after us, he's going to be next to impossible to take down."
Landy held up a hand. "Okay, let's think this through logically. Byer set a trap for you." She pointed at Cross. "Instead, he got all of us," she continued, including the room in her statement. "That was a gross miscalculation in his plan. Now, he's lost the leverage over you that he'd gained by kidnapping Dr. Shearing, he's lost his compound, and he's lost vital information. We can pretty much guarantee any base of operation listed in these files will be cleared out by the time we get there, and we have no idea where he'd go."
Cross agreed with a nod. "And we've got the added complication of Vendel. If Byer's on the run, he'll take Vendel with him for protection. Only when he thinks he's untouchable will he send Vendel out. So, we've got a window of opportunity." He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees as he pressed his thumbs against his eyebrows, a sure sign of a headache. "In Byer's mind, he's a patriot," he said quietly. "By blowing that compound, he took American lives. He knows you'll be after him, so he's not going to make it easy to find him."
Tom glanced between Landy and Cross. "What about his people? The file lists names of people that Byer recruited while in prison. What if we use them?"
Cross nodded again. "That's my suggestion. These guys are low-level analysts and technicians. One of them is bound to make a mistake."
Landy smiled at that. "And, when they make a mistake, we move in."
"Yeah." Cross sat back in his chair, slapping his knees as he did so.
Landy's smile widened. She had an advantage. She had the only two men to ever outsmart an international manhunt of epic proportions sitting in her crisis suite. And both of them were willing to assist her. She turned as Nicky Parsons slipped out of the break room and made a decision that was completely in her purview. "Bourne, Parsons, you've just been reactivated as CIA operatives. Cross?" She smirked as he blinked tiredly at her. "Welcome to the CIA."
oOo
Somewhere north of the international crossing at Sault Ste. Marie, Ric Byer unlocked a rundown shack and made his way inside. The flight from Chicago to the border had been short and stressful. Vendel kept watch carefully, and, once on the ground, naturally took over security. It allowed Byer to consider his next move.
He needed to lay low, and going north allowed him to do that. The area above Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, was sparsely populated with plenty of abandoned homes in which he could rebuild. The shut-down protocol for the Rodeo base had included bringing his operatives here after two weeks. In that time, he would have a foolproof way to pin the explosion on Bourne and Cross and shift the blame. By making the two assets the criminals, he would be able to return to his work for NRAG and bring down his nemesis.
Aaron Cross. The name had once been one that Byer cherished in a twisted, fatherly sort of way. Cross had been his crowning achievement until Vendel, and the Outcome agent had proven his worth time and again. But Cross had always been a free thinker, and Byer's best efforts to control that had failed. It hadn't surprised him that Cross had survived the initial hit in Alaska. Or that he'd escaped Manila. What had surprised him was Cross's move to trust the CIA. That had to have been brought on by Bourne's connection to Landy.
Which Byer could use. He just needed time to work everything out in his head. Time to let the raging anger at his own arrogance and failure settle and his mind to think tactically. Until that happened, he was dependent on Vendel to keep him safe. While he'd created Vendel partially for that purpose, he still hated the thought of relying on someone else. It smacked of weakness, and Ric Byer had never been a weak man. He intended to demonstrate his strength once and for all. As much as he wanted to use Marta Shearing and Nicky Parsons to do that, he knew they were untouchable and in CIA custody. No, he'd have to settle for a good old-fashioned manhunt as soon as he rebuilt his base the way he wanted it.
Byer smiled at the thought. It was only a matter of time, and he would show the world just what men like Bourne and Cross were capable of. And, in doing so, he'd prove how much of a patriot he truly was.
~TBC