DS #9 A Life for a Life (1/?)
By Carol M.
See prologue for details. Next part will be out either tomorrow or Saturday. Enjoy it, folks!
Present Day
5 months after Uninvited
"Tracey?"
"Nope."
"Kristin?"
"Uh, uh."
"Brianne?"
"No."
Darien tossed down the book of baby names in frustration and curled farther into his wife's lap. "I give up then!" he said dramatically.
Claire smiled and picked up the fallen book, which had been purchased by Darien the day before. She flipped through the pages, eyeing each of the entries with a fine-toothed comb. She was on a determined mission to find the perfect name for their child. "Oh, oh, what about Beatrice?" she asked excitably as she glanced down at Darien's face in her lap, which was barely visible from beneath the swell of her very pregnant middle.
Darien made a mock vomiting noise. "Beatrice Fawkes? Are you freakin kidding me here? The kid would sound like she was a character from a Harry Potter book, or something!"
Claire rolled her eyes and continued scanning the book, moving one of her hands down to Darien's head to run her fingers through his thick hair. Darien sighed and closed his eyes, reveling in the relaxing sensation of being petted like a cat. "Maybe we should work on boys names for awhile?" he offered.
"All right. What are your suggestions?" she asked curiously as she turned to the boys name section of the book.
"Kevin Robert Fawkes," said Darien somewhat wistfully.
Claire smiled sadly and set down the book. "I love it," she said as she struggled to lean down and kiss Darien.
Darien craned his head up so their lips were able to meet in a quick peck. "Here's hoping we have a boy, right? Cause the way this chick thing is going, our daughter's going to be named Velma or some crap," he said as he settled back down in Claire's lap.
"Hmm, Velma Fawkes," said Claire teasingly.
"Oh, no, don't even think about it," said Darien in a threatening tone.
Claire laughed and started running both of her hands through Darien's hair, massaging his scalp and styling his hair into an even spikier hairdo than normal. "Go to sleep Mr. Fawkes, you have to work in the morning."
"Yeah, unlike some Keeper's I know who get to spend all day in bed watching soap operas," said Darien sleepily as his eyes drifted shut.
"Hey, now, I seem to remember you doing the same thing a couple of months ago," she said.
"Yeah well, that wasn't exactly a walk in park," he replied. "Fortunately I have a wife who understands the fact that her husband likes to be babied."
"Even though he'll never admit it," she replied.
"Uh huh," said Darien as sleep finally started to take him. "Night, Claire."
"Goodnight, Darien. Sweet dreams," she replied softly.
Without fail, two minutes later Darien was snoring. He was just so predictable in that unpredictable way of his. It was one of the things she loved most about him, even though quite frankly she could do without the snoring. She caressed her abdomen with one hand and continued to massage Darien's hair with the other. She inhaled deeply and couldn't suppress the small amount of butterflies that entered her stomach when she got a whiff of Darien's scent. The two things she loved the most were in bed with her and she couldn't have been happier. She only hoped that Darien felt the same way.
She leaned down and glanced at Darien's sleeping face, drool already leaking from the corner of his mouth. His lips were relaxed into a peaceful smile. Yep, she concluded, Darien Fawkes was happy as well.
**
"Good job, kiddies," said the Official as he gazed at the stack of surveillance photos sitting on his desk.
"Speak for yourself there, chief. I think I got a serious case of whiplash from being used as a human air bag by Monroe there in the Bat Mobile," said Darien as he rolled his aching neck and shoulders and slouched further into his chair in the Official's office.
"You insulting my driving, partner?" asked Bobby in a hurt tone from his seat next to Darien.
"Yeah, man I am. Look at me, I can hardly turn my head," said Darien as he tried to move his neck and was instead rewarded with a sharp stab of pain that caused him to wince. He looked over at the seat next to him where Alex was trying to hide her amusement. "Hey there sister, that is ain't no laughing matter, okay. You could've freakin killed me," he said dramatically.
Alex rolled her eyes. "Don't be so melodramatic, Fawkes. What's important is that we got the intel we needed and didn't get caught by the bad guys."
"Thanks to my expert driving skills, chief," said Bobby, rubbing his chin.
The Official cleared his throat and stared at the trio of agents. "Very good, very good. Since you all risked life and limb to get these photos, I've decided to give you three the rest of the afternoon off."
Darien eyed the Official suspiciously. "You're kidding, right?"
"No son, I'm not kidding. Go home and have Claire examine your injury," said the Official with a hearty smile.
"Whoa, whoa, who are you and what have you done with our boss?" asked Darien.
Bobby elbowed Darien sharply in the side. "Shut up, Fawkes."
"Can't I do anything nice for my agents without there being some kind of ulterior motive?" asked the Official.
"No, you can't. What's going on?" asked Darien.
"Well let's just say we're having a little in-house review from the Bureau of Weights and Measures today and I don't want anything to mess up our finances," said the Official.
"Afraid we'll embarrass you, huh?" said Darien.
"Yes," said the Official.
Darien made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Gotcha," he said. "Well in that case I'll be…"
Darien was interrupted by Eberts coming through the office door in somewhat of a hurry. "Sir, there's someone outside who wants to see you. He's says it's urgent."
"Who is it?" asked the Official curiously.
"He wouldn't say, sir," said Eberts.
"Okay, show him in," said the Official.
"Right away, sir," said Eberts as he stepped out the door.
"Right away, sir," mocked Bobby.
"Okay, you three, out and go home," said the Official gruffly.
"With pleasure," said Darien as he stood up.
The trio was about to make their way out the door when an older man carrying a thick file folder barged through the door from the other side. "I'm sorry," said the man as he nearly bashed into Darien.
"No problem, man," said Darien as he walked out the door followed by Bobby and Alex, who were exchanging star struck glances at the man entering the office.
The man looked at the Official, who had his head down looking at the surveillance photos. The man cleared his throat. "Hello Chuck," he said loudly.
The Official's head snapped up and his mouth opened in shock. "Royce… what the hell are you doing here?"
Royce walked over to the chairs in front of the Official's desk and sat down. "Came to reminisce about old times. Me saving your life, stuff like that," he replied coldly. He looked around the office and nodded in approval. "You've done well for yourself, Charlie. I'm proud of you."
The Official nodded slightly. "I could say the same about you. Head of the most covert anti-terrorist group in the country is no small potatoes."
Royce smiled. "No, it's not. But you know I was thinking about you the other day. I was wondering how the hell this Agency has been so successful, particularly in the last year or so," said Royce as he sat up and leaned towards the Official. " I did a little research, Chuck. Guess what I found?"
"What?" asked the Official innocently.
"You have an invisible agent by the name of," Royce opened his file and flipped through several pages, "oh let's see, Darien Fawkes, I believe."
"What do you want Royce?" asked the Official harshly.
"Just a favor from my old partner," said Royce as he threw the file on the Official's desk. The Official eyed it somewhat hesitantly and then picked it up, skimming the pages. After several minutes of stone cold silence, the Official threw the file back at Royce. "I can't," he said simply.
"You can't or you won't?" asked Royce.
"He can't and he won't," replied the Official.
"Oh really. The information in this file tells me otherwise," said Royce.
"Look, you can have any other agent you want, just not him. He's married and he's got a baby on the way. He can't do the job," said the Official. "I'm sorry, Royce, I really am."
"That's unfortunate, Chuck," said Royce coldly. "But you know what, I'm going to forgive you. That's what partners are for, right? To watch your back and forgive you for stupid mistakes like almost getting your partner killed," he said as he stood up. "I'll just come to you for the next job."
The Official let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. "Thank you. I promise, whatever you need, you can have next time. I haven't forgotten what you did for me and I assure you, I will repay the favor some day."
Royce gave the Official a chilly smile. "I know you will, partner. We should get together some time and catch up," he said with an odd gleam in his eye that the Official didn't like.
"Yeah," said the Official softly.
Royce waved and then walked out the door, letting it slam a little harder than necessary.
The Official quickly picked up his phone and pushed a button. "Eberts, find Hobbes and Monroe. See if they're still in the building."
He hung up the phone and took a harsh breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. He looked up with fear and was rewarded with relief when his door opened several minutes later and Bobby and Alex stepped through.
"You wanted to see us, chief?" asked Bobby.
The Official nodded. "I need you two to watch Fawkes and Claire for a few days."
"Does this have anything to about Royce McClellan?" asked Alex.
The Official gave her a startled look. "How do you know about Royce McClellan?"
"Well sir, he's pretty much legendary in the spook world," offered up Bobby. "He's like the Tom Cruise of government work."
"Tom Cruise or not, I need some guards on Fawkes. I'm assigning five agents to watch his house and I want you two outside in the van. Anything funny happens, you pull him out of there and bring him to the Agency," said the Official.
"What's going on, sir?" asked Bobby in a worried tone. "Is Fawkes in danger?"
"Yes…no…I really don't know. I just want to make sure he's safe and protected," said the Official.
"You want us to tell Fawkes about this, sir?" asked Alex.
"No, he doesn't need to know. He's got enough on his plate right now then to having to deal with something that might turn about to be nothing," said the Official.
Bobby nodded. "We got his back, chief. Don't worry about it."
Alex nodded in agreement.
"Good, thank you. Get out of here and find Fawkes," said the Official impatiently.
"Yes, sir," said Bobby as he stepped to the door and opened it, letting Alex walk through ahead of him. He gave the Official an intense, questioning stare and then followed her out the door.
The Official closed his eyes, scenes from his past floating through his mind. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a canister of Rolaid tablets. He took out a tablet and chewed it harshly, swallowing hard as the chalky substance made its way through his system. Then he picked up his phone again and dialed. "Eberts, get me five of our best field agents, excluding Hobbes and Monroe."
He slammed down the phone and tried to beat the burning hole in his stomach that was getting worse by the minute. Somehow, he had a feeling that the ulcer that had been quiet for months was back with a vengeance. Just like Royce McClellan.
TBC
