Chapter 28: Teamwork

Courtyard Inn, Chicago

Lisbon woke and stretched. It was mid-morning, not surprising after their intense soul-searching in the dead of night. She slid from under Jane's arm to use the bathroom, taking care not to jostle him. Not only did she balk at waking him after years of insomnia. But she enjoyed his near-feline delight in sleep and had to check the temptation to ruffle his hair, even shorn of curls.

She stepped back into the room and frowned as his gaze raked over her.

Hands behind his head he smiled. "Enjoying the view."

She unconsciously tugged her sleep tee down. "Enjoy it vertically then. I'm famished."

With an exaggerated sigh, "How can one tiny–" she whapped him and he repeated while dodging, "–tiny person eat so much and stay so small?"

"Called 'exercise.' Requires moving." She nudged him in a none too subtle hint.

Jane rose gracefully and made his way to the bathroom. He washed the sleep from his eyes and decided against shaving since he'd done so for yesterday's prison con. Rid of the need for a disguise, he slipped the gold band from his finger. Lisbon silently slid her undercover jewelry toward him.

"Gotta get these back to Pete," he said.

"I never saw Sam wear those."

"She doesn't. Pete won them at poker." She was still confused. "Carnies keep jewelry, gold coins and the like for savings – insurance. Portable and better than paper money."

She shook her head at the paranoia woven into carny culture. Reconsidering, she realized they were hardly unique in distrusting politicians. She almost missed his offhanded comment.

"'Sides. We'll do better when the time comes."

Her eyebrows rose but she let it slide. Neither the time nor place. She fumbled with fastening her cross around her neck. Jane moved behind and did it for her. Then his long fingers automatically kneaded out knots of stress in her shoulders. His gaze met hers in the mirror. "We're here till Stiles calls Cho. What's your pleasure, my dear?"

"Breakfast and coffee–"

"Here?"

"Restaurant's better, faster. -Wanna play tourist? Lincoln Park Zoo, Art Institute, Shedd Aquarium... Whatever we have time for." Smoothing her hair, "I could get my hair done back to the right color." He brushed his face across her short tresses while obviously inhaling. She rolled her eyes but a smile quirked her lips. I really pick 'em. Odd as the day is long.

He murmured, "Or you could leave it. Looks good."

She turned and mock scowled. "Men. You just like the thrill of bedding a woman who looks differe–"

He interrupted with a kiss. "The thrill, as you put it, is being with you, only you. It is attractive you know." He resumed kissing.

She pulled away as things began to heat up, mumbling, "Down boy. We're waiting for that call and who knows what else." She returned to the bedroom.

Jane scooped up the jewelry and pocketed it as he dressed. He cleared his throat. "What about visiting family?"

"Too complicated. Don't want them on Blake's radar."

He nodded, lips pursed at the thought.

Chicago

The heat had broken, the cool breeze foreshadowing fall. Unlike Sacramento or even Austin, fall was Chicago's only decent season. They drove to the Roselle station after breakfast. Lisbon assured him it'd be far easier to take a commuter train than brave Chicago traffic. Quaint "rush hour" had long been superseded by brutal 24/7 traffic. Jane parked out of the way and they took their small carry-ons with them. Once they flew off to meet Stiles (or, if unsuccessful, back to Austin), Pete would inherit the car for the trouble of fetching it. If necessary Jane would replace it in Austin. They stowed their luggage in a train station locker while they went sightseeing.

Lincoln Park was a beautiful oasis of nature amid a big city. They strolled leisurely through the zoo in the brilliant, sunny day. Lisbon enjoyed most of the animals but had to tear a fascinated Jane away from the big cat enclosures.

When done they took a taxi to lunch at Uno's on the way to the Art Institute. They grabbed a corner booth in the nearly deserted restaurant, glad to sit after all the walking.

"You boasted about Chicago's ethnic cuisines and then choose pizza?!"

"Deep dish Chicago pizza," she corrected primly.

He leaned back. "Better be great. I gave up Thai, Vietnamese, Middle Eastern and Moroccan for this."

She gave him a dimpled smile and ordered for them both.

"And tea," he grumbled as the server delivered their sodas.

Forty minutes later they groaned at sated taste buds and full bellies.

"Told you!" she crowed.

"Think they deliver to Austin?"

Sadly, "Only in my dreams."

"Ice cream?" he asked, mostly to confirm she was too full as well.

"After dinner maybe." She sipped her soda and looked at him appraisingly. The barriers he'd been rebuilding were gone.

Jane lazily smiled, "Why so serious?"

"Thinking about yesterday." At his flicker of apprehension, she said, exasperated but not unkind, "How do I convince you? I was honest before Malibu, I was honest last night. Stop with the damn guilt and worry."

Now amused, "Since when do you read me so well?"

"I have ten years of advanced Jane-watching. Sheer self-defense."

Serious again. "You have no idea how relieved I am."

"Tell me about the island?" she asked softly, hand flat on the table, fingertips just brushing his.

He cocked his head. "Why?"

"Your letters gave me the happy version, didn't they?"

After another sip of soda, "I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours."

"Why?" she intentionally echoed.

He grinned, "Interested in everything about you."

"Nosy you mean."

"To-ma-to, to-mah-to." He stretched, resigned to talking for awhile. "Afterward ... I used a fake passport to get a flight out of the US." Reacting to her questioning glance, "Had the passport for awhile."

"Someplace without an extradition treaty?"

"Not exactly." She leaned back, anticipating a lecture. "All countries in the western hemisphere have treaties with the US. They aren't equally diligent about honoring them. Hostile nations pretty much don't. Also, I'd have to be charged or convicted."

"The FBI never charged you. –Weak circumstantial evidence, thousands of potential suspects."

"Ended up in Venezuela by way of Mexico City. Once on the second leg I knew I was safe."

She rotated her glass playing with the condensation rings on the polished wood table, looking down to ease the conversation.

"After everything, I was just ... done. Done thinking, done feeling. I went from Caracas to Margarita Island and rented the first cheap room I found." He fell silent, gaze fixed on a time and place far removed.

After a moment, "And?"

He tipped his head back, eyes closed. "Ten long years obsessed with him. Then – nothing." He swallowed convulsively. "I fulfilled my promise. There was nothing more I could even pretend to do for them. Slept too much, drank too much, swam too much. Eventually there was nothing new to think. Or feel."

Gently, "You wrote."

Bright eyes met hers. "Didn't think there'd be an 'afterward.' Never imagined how unsettled, how restless I'd feel." She heard the real word - lonely. "Missed you, the team. Almost-" He stopped.

"Almost?"

Lightly, "Almost like when I got out of the asylum. No connections."

Years ago she realized he came to the CBI just after being released. She was shocked he compared time on the island to that devastated, profoundly alone period.

She schooled her expression to neutral. "No friends, acquaintances?" knowing how easily Jane rubbed shoulders with people.

"Didn't speak Spanish. Too big a gap." He huffed, thoughts again faraway, "How could I explain pissing off a serial killer, getting my family killed, then killing him? Impossible conversation." He shook his head at the thought.

She covered his hand with hers and squeezed gently, "You could have learned Spanish in two years. –You didn't travel anywhere?"

He rubbed his hand across his face and sat straighter. "After putting Angela and Charlie to rest, no where I wanted to go." He caught her gaze. "Except home. I missed you. On my less selfish days I hoped you moved on." He grimaced, then corrected with a self-deprecating shrug, "If I was honest, I wanted you to move on with me. Seemed impossible. Read about the mess in California from newspapers the tourists left."

She hated needing to know. "And Kim?"

His looked up, confused. "She showed up out of the blue. Everything about her screamed 'cop.' We went to dinner. Danced." Hurt claimed her features. He added, "Nothing more. Needed a heads up on FBI intentions."

"You were surprised." Eyes narrowed. "-When Fischer came in during your negotiations with Abbott you were surprised."

"Thought she was only bait. Showing up at that meeting meant she had a stake in me. Unexpected."

"Oh."

He slumped, enervated by revisiting more past he wanted to forget.

She got up. Briskly, "C'mon. You'll like the Art Institute."

He raised his eyebrows but went along. He'd cajole her story out of her in the museum.

They hoofed it the several blocks to the Art Institute.

"This is the Magnificent Mile," she explained as they walked down Michigan Avenue past shining, stately buildings. They paused on the bridge over the Chicago River, enjoying the lake view and breeze.

"Beautiful area," he agreed. "Chicago was on the carny circuit, but we always stopped in one far out suburb or another. Later when I did shows it was fly in, take a taxi to the hotel, then fly out the next morning."

"My brothers and I didn't see much of this side of Chicago. Other than the zoo, this was foreign territory."

Idly, "Any city can be pleasant with money."

"Not so much without."

Pivoting in a circle, "It is awfully flat though. Mostly treeless."

Annoyed at the dissing she objected, "Lots of trees. There are forest preserves."

He looked askance. "Doesn't the term 'forest preserve' tell you something? Like trees are endangered species."

"Well this was prairie," she muttered. Despite trying to remain annoyed she sheepishly grinned. "I'll give you flat. The out of state college kids all commented on how flat it is. Never understood till I moved."

They continued walking. Jane burbled enthusiastically about the zoo, ending with, "That's something we should do. –See the animals in their natural habitat."

"A drive-through safari park?"

He stopped and turned. "Africa. Other places. It's a whole wide world, Lisbon."

She said dubiously, "Maybe. Long as it's civilized."

He grinned and resumed walking. "City girl. Gotta change that."

They were almost to the institute when Lisbon's cell vibrated.

Austin, TX

"Cho." He answered his work cell, expecting a call about a case he was helping on.

A male voice with a British accent spoke. "I understand a mutual friend would like to meet with me."

Stiles! "Yes?" Not so dead after all.

"Man of few words."

Cho ignored the amusement in the voice. "Time and place?"

"Oh, I think a little flexibility would be best. Tomorrow noon, our friend should walk west on Virginia Avenue in DC, starting at Constitution Avenue."

"Can you be more specific?"

Sharper, "No. I'll find him."

"Them. His partner will be with him."

There was a pause. "His lovely female partner?"

"Yes."

"That will be satisfactory."

Cho called Lisbon. They assured him they'd be there and, no, they didn't need back-up. After they hung up he knocked and stepped into Abbott's office.

"Yes?"

"Meeting with Stiles is set. Tomorrow around noon in DC."

"Lisbon and Jane?" Cho nodded. "They need anything?"

"No. Jane knows Stiles, knows what he's doing."

"Okay, then." Abbott turned to another matter. "Be sure you have your go-bag. Blake team's flying out tomorrow. Briefing on the flight." Since the attack on Abbott and Fischer, details about Blake ops were strictly need-to-know.

Cho nodded and left.

Chicago

After Cho's call, Lisbon stowed her cell as they paused between the bronze lions at the Art Institute entrance.

"We need to be in DC by tomorrow."

"Redeye? Don't want to risk getting grounded by a snowstorm," he teased, ribbing her about the infamous Chicago weather.

"I'll ignore that. –We should talk so I can follow your lead. Do you need to prepare or anything?"

He shook his head. Looking at the imposing classical facade, "We're here, let's enjoy."

Dubiously under her breath, "Maybe with a guide," which, of course, Jane heard.

Hand on the small of her back, they mounted the steps. "Art is a window into how people thought, what they considered important. It communicated ideas when few were literate. Average people of their time and place would have perfectly understood religious and other symbols. Art also reflects how they understood their world. Do you know babies used to be painted as miniature adults? Childhood was considered an inferior state to be remedied as soon as possible."

Becoming interested, "Why?"

"Only adults could properly honor and serve God. -Portraits used to be the province of the high and mighty. Of course the rich commissioned most portraits. Later, ordinary people and scenes became popular..." He rambled on enthusiastically as they bought tickets and looked over the brochure and map.

Jane patiently waited until they were well into their tour. He was pleased at the extensive and varied collections, figuring he'd be back when Lisbon visited her family. Lisbon was intently examining Seurat's A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte when he broached the subject. The room was empty except for them.

"Tell me about your two years after I ran."

Distracted, she frowned a little before the query sank in. She shrugged. "What's to tell? The CBI was scrapped, we were investigated, and I got another job."

"More than the headline, my dear. Not just what happened, but how you were affected." His hand rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

She looked around and searched his face. He wouldn't be put off after his painful openness and honesty. She turned back to the painting to keep him from reading her. "You already know the governor asked the FBI to dismantle the CBI. A week later the legislature passed an emergency bill legally terminating the bureau." She shook her head. "Too corrupt to save." Intensely, "That fat fu–"

"Teresa!" Jane breathed as a family with kids entered.

Seamlessly, "–nny Abbott investigated us back to kindergarten. He cleared Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt in two months. Kept me twisting in the wind two more."

"How did you manage?"

Lisbon took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Lived off savings." She ran her fingers through her hair. "End of CBI. Team scattered. You gone." She faced him. They were alone again. "I could have weathered one, maybe two of those. All at once was a bitch."

They drifted on.

Wry with a touch of bitterness. "I was never in better shape in my life. Lots of running, not much eating. Daily target practice – not that it mattered if I couldn't find work."

Quietly, "Why couldn't you?"

Openly bitter now, "After investigating us for months, Abbott screwed us over. Didn't give us credit, didn't publicly clear us. We got form letters stating there was 'no evidence of involvement in corrupt activities.'" She stopped. Eyes moist and bright. "Thank God for your letters. For awhile they were what kept me going."

Regretful, "I'm sorry I didn't write more often. Sooner."

She sighed. "Rough time for us all. Rigsby and Van Pelt started their private investigative firm. Cho applied to the FBI. Abbott warned against him getting in but he was accepted anyhow."

"Go, Cho," Jane said fondly in a quiet voice.

"Minelli helped me get the chief of police job in Cannon River."

They ambled through more rooms in silence, casually viewing the art.

After she calmed down he ventured, "How was Cannon River?"

"Like being trapped in a Disney movie."

He waited, knowing the frustration would find its way out.

"Stopping vandalism, solving bike thefts. Occasional DUI. Hell, a minor drug bust made the front page for a week."

"No friends, or," he swallowed, "interesting men?"

"The people were – are – great. Friendly, helpful, purely nice. The police force is all locals. Decent guys, but they just don't compare to my CBI team," she said a trifle defiantly, slightly embarrassed at the whiff of elitism.

He quietly pressed, "And men?"

She pivoted and faced him. "Good, solid men. Like Greg. Those who aren't happily married leave for the city." Sourly, "Bigger dating pool."

Jane sat on a bench and Lisbon joined him. This was his opportunity to find out what she wanted, help him know where to take it all. "If you could have anything, what do you want?"

"I haven't really thought about it. Irrelevant till now."

"And now that it is relevant?"

She mused, eyes unfocused. "I miss the team. A lot. I'm ... so happy you're back. Even if it is Austin."

"Thought you'd like the FBI, working big, challenging cases."

She sighed. "The work is interesting. But I trust Abbott about as far as I can throw him. It's not that he's hard nosed, it's what he did in Sacramento."

So FBI, ... not so much. "Hightower's heading the CIB, yes? Maybe you could work there."

She turned to him eyes wide and anxious. "What – what about us?"

Soothingly, "I'm not beholden to the FBI forever. Setting that aside, would you want to work for the new California bureau?"

Lisbon swallowed and squared her shoulders, admitting a painful truth to herself even more than Jane. Slowly, "Don't think so."

He raised his eyebrows, silently requesting an explanation.

"My 20 years of good, hard work didn't matter when I – the team – was accused of being Blake. Being a cop is who I am. But I just can't muster the naive optimism to buy into a bureaucracy again. Work my ass off like some drone only to get shafted."

His lips lifted in a hint of a smile. "Guarantee no one sees you as naively optimistic." This time he sighed, "But I see your point. When it mattered, no one had your back." Much to think about. "C'mon. Let's finish up, grab dinner, and get to DC."

City Street, Washington DC, Noon

Lisbon and Jane walked west on Virginia Avenue from Constitution Avenue. The weather was similar to Chicago's. They were grateful it wasn't hot and wasn't raining. They'd been walking half an hour when they entered a long underpass. Mid-way through, a black stretch limo pulled up alongside. A window was lowered by the driver.

"Bret requests your company."

They exchanged glances. Jane held the door for Lisbon, then walked around to the other side and got in alongside her. As Jane expected, the car was occupied only by the driver.

"Where are we going?"

"Directions will be radioed to me."

They sat back as the driver smoothly accelerated from the curb.

A few blocks later the driver swore and took a sharp left.

He jammed on his brakes, car slewing as he barely avoided crashing the black SUV ahead. Lisbon and Jane held tight to the door handles and stayed in place.

"What the–" The driver tried to back away, only to be blocked by more SUV's.

"FBI! GET OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP."

"Shit! I – I–" Trembling, the driver unlatched his door only to have it yanked open by a man in black.

Others flung open the passenger doors and jerked Lisbon and Jane out. Lisbon yelped as a burly man chopped down on her right hand, making her drop her gun.

"HANDS UP. FACE THE CAR."

They glimpsed a dozen men in Kevlar vests, each with gun aimed their way. The three were roughly shoved against the limo.

Lisbon half turned and yelled, "Dammit, we're FBI! You–" an agent shoved her back against the car, "–idiots!" She turned her head and viciously ordered, "My badge is on my belt. Look at it!"

She caught sight of Cho, who was as furious as she'd ever seen him. Cho bit out, "Stand down! She's one of ours," as the nearest agent moved to cuff her.

A patch of wet spread down his legs then the driver dropped in a dead faint. Lisbon looked to see what grabbed the agents' attention. Then Jane half collapsed against the car, shoulders shaking.

"Jane!"

He sagged against the car, hands gripping the roof to keep upright.

Lisbon exhaled in relief. Not hurt!

Jane laughed uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. "You – you're ... Keystone cops!" Dennis Abbott approached the scene from yet another SUV. Catching sight of him, Jane gasped out, "Abbott and Costello. –You morons!"

Face like thunder, Abbott shouted, "Stand down. Release them, they're FBI." He looked around. "No one else in the car?"

The lead agent reported, "No, sir. Just the driver and these two." He nodded at Lisbon and Jane who wiped his eyes, laughter subsiding to little eruptions of chuckles as he gradually regained his composure.

"Get them into my vehicle. See if the driver knows anything when he comes to. Then return to the bureau office." He turned on his heel. Jane and Lisbon were hustled to the back seat of his SUV. Cho slid into the driver's seat. Abbott took shotgun.

FBI Field Office, Washington DC

Abbott, Cho, Lisbon and Jane sat in a windowless conference room. Jane sipped the tea an aide brought him. Lisbon rubbed her right wrist. Cho was a statue, face impassive and arms crossed over his chest. An agent stopped by to tell Abbott the driver didn't know anything. The limo had been hired and given directions by phone. The phone was an untraceable burner cell and the credit card an anonymous prepaid cash card.

Cho opened. "You monitored my phone to get the meet location. What happened to teamwork?"

Abbott ignored Cho. His calm voice held an undercurrent of anger. "There's a blanket warrant out for Visualize leaders. There was a warrant out for Stiles before he supposedly died in the explosion at your Malibu house, Jane. Any explanations?" He scanned the group.

Lisbon took point on events from two years ago. "Stiles was reported dead, confirmed by DNA."

"But?"

"McAllister was also reported dead from that blast. After a concussion grenade, we think an accomplice took McAllister and Stiles outside and planted two corpses in their place. The DNA evidence was faked."

Controlling his tightly coiled anger, Cho asked, "Why? If Stiles vanishes you blew our best chance of getting the Blake leaders."

Coldly, "I accept you three are honestly trying to get Blake. I gave you running room but it's my call how much. Visualize is selling arms and dealing drugs with terrorists. Six months ago evidence turned up against Bret Stiles. Now that he's miraculously returned from the dead, squeezing him would deliver Visualize on a platter. Worth trying to get Stiles."

Impasse. The silence lay like toxic fog. Clatter shattered the moment as Jane put his cup and saucer on the table.

Completely at ease, Jane said mildly, "You really aren't good at this. You accept evidence that just happens to surface after decades of searching. You have no idea who Stiles is or how to play him. You're blundering around with heavy-handed protocol when flexibility and finesse are required." He lifted his teacup for another sip. "Stupid."

Abbott's eyes glittered dangerously. "Organizations abetting terrorists need to be put out of business. I'm pursuing that regardless of your opinion. With luck, we'll get the Blake leaders as well." Abbott rose. "Stay in town. I'll let you know our next move on Visualize." He left. The door softly thumped the wall and drifted half closed.

Cho closed the door and reseated himself. He looked around. "Now what?"

Jane sipped more tea, eyes unfocused as he thought. After a moment his gaze sharpened as his attention returned to the present company. He tipped his head. "Proceed with our original plan."

Lisbon was upset at the botched meet and antagonism from Abbott. She growled, "Spell it out Jane. I'm in no mood to wait for one of your grand reveals."

"Stiles was curious enough to meet. He's still curious. He'll call again."

"Abbott'll intercept that call and we're back where we started," Lisbon argued.

"Stiles will call through Rigsby or Van Pelt." They gaped. Patiently, "Personal relationships endure. He'll know we're in touch. He'll track them down and get a message to us that way."

"How can you be sure?" Lisbon challenged.

"It's what I'd do."

Cho, "Then what?"

"Lisbon and I meet and strike a deal."

Lisbon objected, "Jane, we can't strike a deal if Abbott's trying to take down Visualize."

"True. Abbott's boss will stop him."

"–Because?"

Cho hazarded, "Politics?" When Jane nodded, "Some Congressmen are in Visualize. Others get big campaign donations."

Lisbon added thoughtfully, "Taking down a religious organization is different from going after corrupt leaders. Tangles with the Constitution." She looked hard at Jane. "Visualize would tie it up in court for years."

Jane nodded. "Someone in the Justice Department will rein Abbott in before it gets that far. We'll see what Stiles wants in return for identifying the Blake leaders."

"Why would he want anything? Getting Blake out of Visualize is a win-win," Cho opined bluntly.

Showing the faintest sign of irritation but not at them, "You'd be right except Abbott weakened our hand. Stiles will want more after that botched move. I'll just have to convince Abbott."

"Piece of cake," Lisbon snarked, "since you and Abbott get along so well."

"You'll see."

"What next?" Cho asked.

"I suggest a nice dinner on the FBI's dime. We have time to kill until Stiles contacts the Rigsby's."