A/N: So, I know it has been quite some time since I've updated this story and I want to apologize for that, it was not my intention to leave you waiting for so long and even less to abandon this fic. It just so happens that there was a few circumstances that made this update take this long: in the last few weeks I've had very little time to dedicate to writing and the time I had I spend it finishing another story. That along with a bit of writers block kept me away from this story.
Fortunately it seems that most of it is behind me and I can again dedicate a little more time to writing.
As always, I can't thank enough my beta, Cophine, for barrow me some of her time.
Thanks for reading!
The sky is on fire. The rising sun paints the clouds in hot shades of fiery red and orange as I drive the beat up car along a nearly deserted road. Once more, I avoid the highways making my journey longer, but safer.
I was up before the sun, Delphine dragging me out of the bed even before the morning birds started their songs. At least she treated me to an healthy dose of caffeine before she nearly shoved me into the shower, not hearing my complaints about the cold. I have no idea what time she got out of bed, since I was down for the count, but when I left the shower she informed me that she had checked the flights out of Berlin and into New York. If I left early, I could make it with plenty of time for a mid afternoon flight, that with the time difference, will have me back on American soil late in the evening.
The morning was pretty uneventful by our standards. Aside from the flight plans she had arranged, our conversation was conventional; no mention of conspiracies, the Russian mob, or the usual lies and misdirections that stand between us. On the other hand, last night wasn't discussed either, however it wasn't particularly awkward or unwelcome. I don't feel the need to talk about it, to process what we had. It could simply be because I'm aware that we can't possibly work it out in the short time we have at our disposal; what's the point of starting a conversation we can't finish? Leaving it half done is worse than not addressing it at all. Or it could be something a little more complex: to put a name on what happened between us will create more problems than solve.
So I left. Driving the dirt road, the small cottage falling away in my rearview mirror, Delphine smoking on the porch, leaning against the frame of the open door.
The drive is long and boring, and fortunately I had a good, restful night and am capable to keep going only with a couple of stops to refill my caffeine intake. Only when I cross the border into Germany do I dare to take a longer break. I stop in a small, frontier town and find a diner that promises greasy food. When I leave with a full stomach and another large cup of hot coffee in hand, it has begun to rain, not hard like the day before, but the air is heavy with humidity. A light drizzle falls unrelentingly and the temperature has lowered considerably.
I run to where I've parked the car, a block away and dive inside. I reach for the phone in my pocket and dread the call I have to make. I don't know how Siobhan will take the news.
"Yes!" She picks up in a no-nonsense tone.
I hesitate and then choke on my greeting. "Hi…" which is followed by a long silence.
"So? How are you? Where are you?" Siobhan asks when the silence lasts too long.
"I ran into a few problems when I got back to the hotel in Warsaw," I understate, "and decided to get the hell away from there. I've just crossed the border into Germany, where I'll catch a flight back to the States."
There's a small pause and then. "What sort of problems?" Siobhan picks up on my carefully selected words.
"The cops were all over it," I say.
"Did you check out?" She asks, always worried about leaving a trail.
"I'll do it remotely," I explain. "Didn't want to do it while I was still there and raise red flags."
"If you say so…" she's not convinced.
"You've trained us well, S. There's no reason to be concerned," I try to appease her.
"Have you informed the Webster's about your change of plans? How much do they know?" She continues in a serious voice.
"Not much, at least by me," I respond, my eyes locking on the man walking briskly pass my car, a newspaper covering his head from the rain that is starting to fall harder. "I'll call them when I'm about to leave."
"I want us to meet before you get back to their property!" This is not a request, but as close to an order as I've heard from her. "We should discuss how much information we're willing to share with them regarding your findings," Siobhan justifies, but it's too late for that. I've already sensed there's something wrong.
"Shouldn't be a problem," I answer, not revealing my worries. "The flight arrives late. I'll just say I'll stay in New York through the night. We can meet then."
"Great!" She says, but doesn't sound pleased at all. "Text me the flight details."
"Shit!" I whisper when she hangs up without any other word.
Something is up. Siobhan could've found out something in her own research, and she's too careful to divulge it over the phone, preferring to meet in person. But that doesn't explain why she's acting so cold with me. One thing is certain, bad news is on the way and I better brace myself for them.
I arrive in Berlin with plenty of time to spare, and head downtown to ditch the car. I find a suitable alley not too far from the center so I don't have to roll my luggage for too long before I can hail a cab. The airport is busy and the desk clerk doesn't rise any suspicious when I present my passport and smile at him, paying with the company's credit card that Daniel had provided me with. There are a few circumstances where it's ideal to leave a paper trail and now I feel safe enough to do it again.
I have a couple of hours to waste before I have to board the plane, and make myself comfortable in one of the cafés in the airport, selecting a seat that allows me a view of the cashier and the entrance. My first call is to the hotel. The person who answers seems to be a little confused by my request, and I don't know if it's due to the oddity of it or the language barrier. He first insists that I must return to the hotel and do the checkout in person and only after a great deal of explanation on my part does he agree with what I ask of him. They have the credit card on file and I don't raise any issue with the exorbitant bill he discloses over the phone. The passport they're still holding will be sent to one of the many PO boxes S has spread throughout Europe. This one will end up in Valencia, Spain and it'll be many months before anyone bothers to collect it. The receipt will be sent via email to the company's address.
After I hang up there's no doubt in my mind that everything I've told the clerk will find its way to the ears of whoever is tracking my steps. But by the time that happens I'll be on my way out of Europe.
The next call is to Daniel, who picks up at the second ringtone.
"Cosima!" He sounds pleased, even excited with my call. "How nice to hear from you! I was starting to worry."
"Ahh… yes," I reply, looking around the café and trying to keep my growing dislike from him out of my voice. "I was following a lead and didn't want to talk to you until I saw if it panned out."
"And did it?" He asks, as I hear the leather of his chair crack when he sits.
"Not exactly," I say. "I'm afraid my trail has gone cold. I'm heading out in a couple of hours, should arrive in the US tonight."
"So, you've found out nothing." It doesn't sound exactly like a question, Daniel sounds almost hopeful with the perspective of my assumed failure.
"I did find out a few things that might interest you," I'm intentionally vague, not sure of how much I'll be able to reveal later. "But I think it's best we don't discuss it over the phone."
"Of course, of course…" His voice loses some of the liveliness. "We'll talk about it once you get back. When will the be exactly?"
"Not until tomorrow," I inform him. "My flight will stop in New York late, and I'll make my way to Boston in the morning."
There's a small pause. "Alright," he finally says, "see you then."
Tired from spending too much time on the road, I sleep through most of the flight. In the few hours I spend awake I'm mostly reviewing my short stay in Poland. It's true that I manage to answer a few questions, mainly related to the subject I was supposed to inquire about. Mariuzs Baczkowski has been revealed as a shady character, to say the least, his role as a somewhat legitimized front to the Russian mob's interests in that country can be all that I need to unveil to Daniel. He might be satisfied with these findings, since that was the scope of my mission in Poland, as far as he's concerned. Although I suspect he won't be pleased that I was able to find dirt on the man he's interested in doing business with, especially if Delphine is correct, and his true concern was how well that dirt was hidden and not its existence.
However, I can't ignore the bigger picture. If it's true that I can give Daniel the answers to his questions, it's no less true that my trip and stay in Poland has uncovered more questions regarding our position inside the Webster's organization. It can't be a coincidence that Sarah has faced very similar difficulties in her last solo mission. That, along with the information Siobhan has unearthed regarding the identical origin of both assignments, is troublesome.
It seems safe to assume that whoever is behind this has a tight control over the Polish authorities and a web of connections to powerful political figures. I clearly didn't give Sarah enough credit for being able to make her way out of the country with little to no consequence. She certainly didn't have the advantage of having someone like Delphine in her corner.
Of course that itself presents me with another problem. The reason for Delphine's appearance in Poland remains a mystery, the skills and knowledge she has demonstrated raising more questions regarding her identity and motivations. If back in the States her actions had aroused suspicions, what I witnessed in recent days has cemented in my mind that Delphine is hiding far darker secrets that I am.
I land in New York on schedule and take a taxi to the address Siobhan has texted me. One of the safe houses in the city. I ring the bell and the door opens with a loud buzzing sound. The old building's wooden stairway creaks under my weight while I carry all my luggage to the third floor. She hasn't offered to assist me and the front door partially opens only when I get close, the hidden cameras on the stairs has anticipated my arrival.
Siobhan holds the door open and waits for me to drag my bags inside without a greeting. It's not exactly a warm welcome and my concerns grow when she almost immediately turns her back on me and heads in the direction of the small, improvised kitchen.
"Lock the door!" Are her first words, grumbled under her breath.
I turn the deadbolt and slide the chain, making a loud metallic noise in the eerie silence of the small house. I move inside, standing in the middle of the nearly empty room, without knowing what to do with myself. The strong smell of coffee brewing pleasantly fills the small space and I look around, moving from Siobhan's back to a bunk bed pushed against a dirty white wall, finally landing on an old, unstable looking wooden table with two equally old seats underneath. Obviously comfort was not a priority when someone put this place together, they had more practical ideas in mind.
"Sit!"
Siobhan's stern voice recaptures my attention and I watch her carry two black, ceramic mugs to the table, pulling one of the stools out to sit on it. Her expression is hard while she waits for me to acquiesce.
"It's everything alright?" I ask with a small tremble in my voice cause by her demeanor, and sit in front of her.
"Did you really think I wouldn't find out?" She says, her deep brown eyes holding my stare with severity.
I don't venture an answer and hold my tongue, not wanting to jump to conclusions. I merely take the hot mug in my hands, stare at its content as if it holds an answer.
"You used my contact, Cosima. Did you think John wouldn't informed me that you arrived at his property in the company of a bodyguard?" She continues, stressing her last word with a hint of irony. "Another woman… tall, with blonde hair and a French accent… I knew who it was even before he gave me a description, let alone her name." Her eyes remain unwavering and I remain silent. "I thought you were smarter than that," she finishes with disappointment in her voice.
"I didn't know she was there!" I start defensively and in return get a skeptical glare. "I was already in Warsaw when she showed up. Delphine being there caught me entirely by surprise," I continue, but can see that Siobhan is not swayed by my words.
I shake my head and take a deep breath, wondering what can I say to make her believe me. I suspect that Siobhan thinks that I have something to do with Delphine's presence in Warsaw, that I told her of my travel plans, perhaps even revealed my purposes there and we agreed to meet, thus betraying Siobhan and my partners. I can see why that is, maybe if I had disclosed Delphine's appearance in the first place this wouldn't happen, I wouldn't have given Siobhan reasons to suspect my loyalty. Having her find out through a third party was significantly more damaging.
"I don't know what she was doing there or how she knew I was going, what I was doing, but I'm not sorry that she did," I say and Siobhan's expression becomes even angrier, but I don't let it deter me. "Had she not been there, if she didn't show up when she did, I probably wouldn't be here talking to you."
At this Siobhan's stance changes a little, she gets more interested in what I'm saying, curiosity finally appearing in her still hard stare. "What do you mean?"
"I first saw her when when Oskar, the journalist, had been shot dead in broad daylight… I… I froze and Delphine showed up and hauled my ass the hell away from that mess," I explain more confident, sensing her more receptive to my words.
"And how did she know where you would be? How did she know when to show up to save your ass, as you put it?" Siobhan asks, unrelentingly.
"Shit! Fuck if I know!" I reply, raising my arms.
"She was following you!" Siobhan says with certainty.
"Well… she was following someone," I half agree. "Either me or the journalist."
"Why would Delphine be following a journalist?" She's less combative, her rational mind is beginning to look for answers, trying to piece the puzzle together.
"Maybe for the same reason I was tracking him down. Maybe because Daniel Webster is interested in him," I say with a shrug. "She's not really willing to disclose much, but she did let out that Oskar Karasek was not exactly a stranger to her." I pause to measure my words, not because I want to keep anything from my boss, but because I want to organize my thoughts in a cohesive manner, finding the best way to explain what I gathered from my time with Delphine. "I don't think she's working alone," I decide. "I think she's part of a team, like we are."
Siobhan raises a skeptical brow and I can see her mind adjusting to this new reality, much like I had to do it myself. "Explain!" She demands curtly.
"Remember how you came up empty when you did a background check on her?" I start, my arms extended on top of the table, my fingers mindlessly drumming against the worn wood. "You told me that was exactly what would happen if someone did the same with my real identity." Siobhan nods, silently following my train of thought. "Delphine has access to information she couldn't possibly get on her own and I mean… police database, international organizations intelligence… she was familiar with Oskar's activities, she seems intimately familiar with how criminal organizations work…" despite my best efforts my mind is all over the place and I get more excited as I continue. "I've seen her shoot a gun like it's an everyday occurrence, take down a guy twice my size with only her hands. She knows how to evade pursuit, drop off the map without a trace… that shit's not normal."
"You sound quite impressed," Siobhan comments offhandedly.
"You'd be too if you saw what I did," I nod as I say. "It even crossed my mind that you'd love to have someone as resourceful as her in our team."
Siobhan's hard stare makes me stop my excited speech and I know immediately what she's thinking. I shake my head and try to calm my rapidly firing mouth.
"Look, I know how this sounds, okay…" I say in more measured words, waving both my hands in front of us. "But it's nothing like that! What I mean is that Delphine is… well, she's definitely hiding something and her position in the Webster's family is a sham."
"After learning all that about her you should be focusing on her motivations for it, not be concerned about her engagement being or not a front," Siobhan states and her eyes don't leave me, even as she takes a drink from the mug.
"It is!" I assure her as convincingly as I can. "Don't you think I didn't try to find out what the fuck all of this means? But… damn! That woman can keep a secret!"
"I want to believe you, Cosima, I really do…" she says, getting up and taking the coffee with her, standing in front of the window, looking out into the dark night barely broken by the few streetlights. "But I'm afraid you're too close to her to think clearly." She pauses and I see her shoulders rise with the deep breath she takes. "For instance," she continues in a quiet voice, "there's no reason for you to let her tag along when you left Warsaw."
"Delphine was the one who warned me, she spotted the goons getting into the hotel and beat them to my room," I explain. "She helped me evade them and get out of the city."
"What was she doing guarding your hotel?" There's an underlying implication in her question.
"I don't know!" I reply, starting to get a little exasperated. "Surprisingly, I didn't think of asking when we were busy dodging bullets," I say with sarcasm. "I couldn't exactly ditch her in the middle of nowhere after she saved my life for the second time in the same day."
"So you put one of my best contacts in jeopardy for someone whose motivations are still a mystery?" Siobhan asks, turning around to face me and I lower my head, submissively. "What about those notes you worked so hard to get? Where are they?"
"Delphine has them," my answer is barely a whisper. "She's suppose to hand them back to me when she returns."
I risk looking at Siobhan, face her rage, but all I see is disappointment.
"If you think it's best, take me off the assignment." I decide to fall on my sword. "I didn't want to be a part of it in the first place."
"It's not that simple, Cosima, and you know it," she says and my sacrifice seems to have calm her down a little. "Once it started you can't turn back. And besides, the way I see it, as we stand, you're still our best chance to find out what's going on," she continues, her back to me again. "Daniel trusts you, at least for now and I just don't see how Sarah or, god forbid, Felix can get close enough to Delphine to find out what she wants, whose side she's in."
"I'm sorry that you're stuck with me," my sarcasm makes another appearance.
"I know you can get results in this mission, Cosima, it's just your methods I disagree with." Siobhan's vote of confidence is not exactly very orthodox. "In my experience, which is quite significant, might I add, the information gathered by someone who's emotionally involved is always tainted."
I snort and twist my lips. "I'm not emo…"
"Don't!" Siobhan quickly cuts off my rebuttal. "I just hope Daniel never finds out what's going on between you and his fiancée, fake or not. Because if he does all hell's going to break loose, and you won't be the only you who'll pay the price."