CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The sight of Earth out the window sent a cold shudder through Janeway as she faced the reality of what she was returning to. Durant was waiting somewhere out there, wondering what had happened to her, probably still enraged from her attack on him. Empek was there, the man who would kill her if she failed to handle this the right way.
Seven's voice frequently overlapped B'Elanna's somewhere behind her as the former drone hacked into Durant's private database. Kathryn had every confidence in her abilities– she had no doubt Seven would succeed. But standing near that woman right now brought her too much pain, and the old, irrational sense of betrayal. She would focus on Durant, and try not to let her thoughts stray to Seven and Chakotay. Just the thought made her feel ill.
"Nervous?"
Paris's easy voice behind her brought her back from her reverie.
"No," Janeway replied automatically, and then, upon some reflection, realized she was speaking the truth. Despite some lingering unease, mostly her being was filled with a dead calm. This was going to be resolved, at last. Either way, for better or for worse, no more of this hanging between two existences.
"I think they're almost done back there," Paris told her. "B'Elanna installed a tracking bug in the file, so the second one of Empek's buddies locates those files in the database, we'll know it."
"Good." She took a few steadying breaths. Her blue eyes darted briefly up to the chronometer, her jaw square and stiff, resolve minted upon her features. "I'm almost ready to go."
Paris still looked uneasy. "Maybe we should give Empek some time to receive word," he suggested. "No need for you to go back so soon."
"It would look too suspicious if I returned to Durant at the same time those files surfaced. Empek would see through that."
He'll probably see through it anyway, she reflected grimly.
"Maybe there's another way," Paris offered, and this time a hint of anger touched his voice. "I hate to think of you seeing that bastard again."
A flood of warmth penetrated the numbness in her heart, and Janeway smiled sincerely, genuinely touched by his concern. She still had them– her crew, her family. Just as she was looking out for them, they were looking out for her.
"Thank you, Tom, but I'll be fine," she glanced up at him over her shoulder, trying to reassure him. "I don't know where Empek is, but we know he'll visit Durant at some point. This is the only way I can ensure we'll meet. There's still a possibility we can work out a deal."
She didn't add the second reason she needed to be with her despised husband, her own private knowledge. Kathryn was preparing to send a transmission to one of the major media organizations, an anonymous tip from someone 'on the inside' about the nature of Admiral Janeway's kidnapping. Naturally, an anonymous tip was always questionable and highly debated, but it would have a dire effect upon Durant's campaign in any case, to the extreme if the authorities investigated and found her in Durant's house.
It was critical that she be found there. It would prove the single, fatal move she had prepared to destroy Durant politically and vindicate Chakotay.
And speaking of Chakotay...
"Is he still sleeping?" Kathryn asked softly.
Paris glanced back towards the door beyond B'Elanna and Seven. "Yeah. The doctor had to practically sedate him, but once he was down, he was out-- sleeping like a baby."
Kathryn smiled at the image. "Good. He probably hasn't slept eight hours total in the past week."
And it's probably better this way.
With a final, heavy sigh, Kathryn pressed her hands down on the arm rests and pushed herself to her feet. "I'm going."
"Now?" Tom was incredulous. "Already? Chakotay's still–"
"It doesn't make a difference either way," Janeway said gloomily. "Either we'll both see each other again in a few days, or we'll both die. He's probably seen more than enough of me recently."
"I wouldn't say that–"
"I've ruined his life."
"Don't blame yourself for this," Tom said reassuringly. "You know it killed him when he thought he'd lost you."
Janeway had to shut her eyes quickly to prevent them from tearing up.
Tom's voice was rich with emotion, "Admiral–"
"Don't," she choked out, "I hate goodbyes. You know that. And you know why I want to leave before he wakes." When she opened her eyes again, she saw understanding in his.
"Yes, ma'am."
She smiled, her eyes shiny. She reached out and grasped his hand in hers. "Just tell them I left."
He couldn't seem to find anything to say, so he just nodded, holding her hand briefly before she slipped away, vanishing into the transporter room.
* * *
It was night. He was tired, hungry, moody. He hadn't slept properly in days, he swore he was getting an ulcer as he watched the situation slip gradually out of control. Empek had been right. The kidnapping story, it was just too complicated to maintain. He had no clue where Chakotay was, he had no way to find Janeway. Maybe he could have created a hologram, or perhaps passed her disappearance off as unscheduled vacation time...
The door hissed open behind him, and he whirled around see Kathryn Janeway hovering in the doorway of his home office. He stared at the specter before him, frozen in shock. One of Janeway's hands clutched the doorframe, knuckles white with tension, and her sharp eyes followed him apprehensively. Her auburn hair hung flat and unruly about her pale face, lending her simultaneously a weary and tense look about her. Thin lips were pressed tightly together, and he could see her chest rising and falling rapidly from where he stood. It didn't take a Betazoid to see her fear.
After a moment's hesitation, she took a tentative step towards him, the door hissing shut behind her. She drew in a breath to speak, began, "John--"
There was no conscious thought preceding it. He simply lanced forward, as if on animal instinct, two long strides, and his fist swung. Rage and exhilaration thrilled through his veins as her jaw gave way beneath his fist. Her entire body jerked away, careening violently back to the floor, leaving her crumpled on the floor like a helpless child. She lay at his feet, her body trembling, for a long moment before she pushed herself up, arms unsteady beneath her.
Durant watched the pathetic display, marveling at his unexpected strength, at the fact that he'd once feared this woman. Maybe it was justified, once, when she was a Starfleet Captain with razor sharp reflexes, the woman she had been when he'd first met her. But now? How could he have ever feared this creature?
He'd hurt her. And it had been so very easy to do.
His heart thumped wildly in his chest. I could kill her, if I wanted to. I don't need a phaser, I could kill her now.
He stepped towards her again. A look of alarm passed fleetingly over Janeway's features as she tried to flinch away, and her face contorted in pain when he tangled his fist in her hair and yanked her with him. She cried out when her feet failed to keep up and gave way beneath her. It amused him the way her scrawny legs kicked against the ground, her weak fingers trying to dig into the flesh of his hand, to pry his grip from her. She wanted to hurt him; he barely even felt it. He threw her then-- cracking her head against the corner of the desk, relishing her whimper of pain as she fell to the floor with a heavy thunk.
Janeway lay there, her hands clamped over her bruised eye, the unbloodied eye watching him with nothing short of terror. A tiny trickle of red seeped from the corner of her mouth.
Durant hovered above her, breath ripping raggedly in and out of his lungs. A moment passed before she slowly eased herself up, then stumbled back again. It took her nearly a minute before she was on her feet before him, swaying unsteadily, pain coloring her features, tension gripping her tiny frame. He knew that right now he'd have little trouble pressing her to the floor and taking everything she had tried to deny him, resolving that old issue always hanging between them. But somehow, knowledge of his power had momentarily dampened his need.
His rage drained from him as suddenly as it had come.
Fighting a sudden exhaustion, Durant demanded, "What happened?" His tone was terse and clipped. "Where the hell have you been?"
"Chakotay." Her voice was quiet, her speech slurred with her stiff jaw. "He kidnapped me. I just woke up in the-- he wouldn't let me go."
Before Durant could speak, Janeway's fearful expression suddenly melted into one of despair. "Oh John," Janeway's voice was ragged, and he was alarmed to see tears spring to her eyes. "It was horrible! He wouldn't let me go--" Her voice became congested, her words interspersed with sobs and incoherent sounds. "... I didn't know where we were, and he wouldn't tell... he killed them, killed them all-- and they were only there to rescue me! Oh but it was worse..."
She threw herself into his arms, and Durant found himself at a loss as he held her shuddering body. Of all the things he'd expected, this wasn't one of them. He ran his hand uneasily up and down her back as she related her horrific tale-- her terror when she awoke Chakotay's captive, when it became clear he wouldn't release her, her fear when she struggled to escape, her shame when she remembered how terribly she'd injured Durant.
He stopped listening to her words once he realized it was simple emotional garbage rather than anything useful, and he found his thoughts straying to the media tumult looming outside Starfleet Headquarters. Somehow she'd managed to sneak back onto Earth without alerting authorities. He was disappointed. He had no dramatic rescue to present to the quadrant, nor had he the body of her kidnapper as proof of his heroism. This wouldn't do. It would look suspicious. How would he spin the situation? And how the hell would he get her to shut up and tell him the story straight out?
"Kathryn," Durant said finally, pulling back even as she resisted the separation, her face red with her tears. "Kathryn!" He shook her shoulders, and was rewarded only by her full weight suddenly sagging down upon his hands. Tilting her head back slightly, he was incredulous to find her unconscious in his arms.
It was two days before Tondra agreed it was safe to wake her. He felt a mixture of pride and regret when he discovered his physical assault upon her, and not her emotional distress, was responsible for her unconsciousness. The gnawing anxiety of the last week had faded somewhat now that he had possession of her, but he still drew a blank when it came to a course of action. He needed a plan.
And Empek. He needed Empek. Where the hell was Empek?
* * *
Empek intently studied the Starfleet Command file. It was all there, meticulously detailed. Notes on Empek's first rendezvous with Durant, the exact sentences uttered during each and every encounter. Notes on Empek's contacts on Deep Space Seven, in Paris, in Amsterdam, and various other places Empek had included Durant in Syndicate activity. Observations of Empek's character. Lists of Empek's sources at Starfleet Command. Names recorded, faces described. Durant had been meticulous in his record keeping.
The source who had relayed the information had suggested that these notes were simply products of Durant's caution. Durant likely required accurate reference material in case of future contingencies. He was only being careful.
But even if that were true, what was this information doing in the database at Starfleet Command?
Empek could guess. It had all been a sham. Durant had claimed he wanted Empek's help in his bid for the presidency, when in reality, he had been using Empek. Durant was hoping to deal a blow to the Syndicate, to gather as much information as possible on the organization by working with it, and then to reveal it all to his fellow Starfleet Officers. Given time, Empek might have introduced Durant to the top brass of the Orion Syndicate, the men who remained a secret even to many of their own underlings. This Admiral could single-handedly have taken the Orion Syndicate down in flames, and Empek would have been his tool to do it.
Destroy the Syndicate. If that feat couldn't get a man elected to the presidency, Empek didn't know what could. Durant was a clever man.
Empek felt a fleeting respect for Durant's resourcefulness. He had taken Empek in line and sinker. Better yet, he had fooled Empek's superiors. How the under bosses would despise Durant for it. And how grateful they would be to Empek once he terminated their betrayer.
Empek felt strangely relieved. Had Durant truly been an ally, and had he lost his presidential bid, Empek would surely have lost his life. Had Durant been publicly discredited while he was in the Syndicate's good graces, Empek would have lost his life. Now that Durant was exposed as an active enemy of the Syndicate, he could be discredited, scorned, killed for all Empek cared, and the blame would not rest upon Empek's shoulders. There would surely be purging in the upper eschelons of the organization, those who originally had the foolery to include Durant in their plans, but Empek would be safe from that retaliation if he acted now.
Empek needed to conceal the Syndicate's affiliation with the soon-to-be-late Admiral Durant, to erase all data on the organization from Starfleet's database. Simple enough. He would arrange it immediately.
And as for his own tasks... Terminate Durant. Pleasurable enough. Terminate Janeway.
Empek paused a moment, trying to figure out the other Admiral's role in this. She was the only variable he could not factor into this equation. If Durant was a loyal Starfleet Officer, if this had all been a sham, why would he have allowed Empek's mistreatment of Janeway? The termination of Janeway's family, of her crewmen?
While Empek knew many people at Starfleet Command viewed Janeway unfavorably, he also knew none of those sturdy Admirals would resort to murdering her family for the sake of taking down the Syndicate.
Empek stared back at the terminal on the desk in front of him. It was too simple. Too neat. Yes, the organization would buy the story of Durant's betrayal. Yes, the media would turn a blind eye to the Syndicate's role in Durant's disgrace and eventual death. But someone had counted upon that. Had Durant truly betrayed the Syndicate, he would have concealed this information somewhere Empek could never hope to find it. But it was sitting conveniently in the command database, waiting to be exposed to Empek's sources.
* * *
When her eyes slipped open, something in her expression had cleared since the last time they spoke. Durant was relieved that she was somewhat collected now-- he had no clue how to deal with Janeway in an emotional mess-- and he eased her up and pressed a glass of water to her lips. She swayed a little unsteadily, but drank eagerly, draining the entire glass.
"Feeling ready to talk?" he asked.
"Talk?" her voice was slightly weak, and the eyes she turned to him bleary. "What do we need to talk about?"
Perhaps still disoriented, her attention seemed to stray, and he quickly snaked his fingers into her hair so he could hold her gaze to his. "How did you get back here, to Earth? Did anyone see you?"
A shaky smile spread across her face then. "Chakotay let me go. I talked him into it. And..." her brow furrowed, puzzled. "I don't know if anyone saw me."
This was bad. Very bad. He needed-- No, perhaps it could work. Admiral Janeway's repentant kidnapper. Maybe word could be spread that Durant's eloquent statements had convinced him to release his beloved wife... But goddamn it, they needed to apprehend Chakotay. The story had to be straight with him. If he were arrested and he revealed the details about exactly how Janeway had slipped so easily into his hands...
"Kathryn, we need to get our stories straight, do you understand me?" Durant's voice was loud and careful, as though he spoke to a child. She looked away, and he pulled her head back around so they were face to face. "We need to find Chakotay and get our stories straight."
"Oh no," Janeway said quickly, her expression suddenly fearful. "Don't make me see him again, John. Please."
"We have to. Can you tell me where he is? Do you know?"
She hesitated, her blue eyes flickering. "I... think he left Earth."
"Did he say where he was going?"
She shook her head mutely, meek as a kitten. Too meek. What had happened to this woman? Had her ordeal at Chakotay's hands left her this traumatized? What could he have done–
Had she ever behaved this way? After he hurt her, hurt her family, her friends, had she ever been silent, compliant, fearful?
And the only man who could give him answers had left Earth. Chakotay. Gone. How inconvenient.
Too inconvenient.
And then Durant felt a stab of suspicion, so fresh, so terrible in his mind. Oh God... he thought, sick with the thought that, even now, she might be planning something.
His grip in her hair tightened, and Janeway visibly winced, trying to pull out of his grip.
"Kathryn," Durant said, his voice deadly. "What is going on?"
Janeway immediately responded to the tone. He felt her entire body tense, and her expression froze, her breathing suddenly halted.
Innocently, she said, "What-- I don't know what you mean."
The sheer lack of guile on her face confirmed it for him, and he yanked her closer to him, roughly enough that she nearly fell off the sick bed. His hand clamped the other side of her head. "Kathryn," Durant growled warningly, holding her wide blue eyes, "I know something's going on. You're trying to trick me. Do I have to call Empek? Do I? Because, by God, you know I will."
Janeway's eyes suddenly became cool, glacial, and the tiny smirk that tugged at her lips chilled him. "Call Empek." Her voice was ice. "Be my guest."
This right here was the woman he knew, the woman with the cold blue eyes, the twisted, cynical smirk, the stony expression on her face. Did she know Empek had neglected him recently? Did she know something he didn't know about Empek's silence?
He was afraid then. Terrified. Terrified of what she was plotting. Afraid of what she already had accomplished. What the hell did she know that he didn't know?
Durant kept a wary eye on her and he tapped into his keypad his silent transmission to Empek's residence, despite his foreknowledge that Empek was off somewhere, that he might not reply for days.
Janeway rolled off the bed and lowered herself into one of the plush arm chairs across the room, eyeing him like a hawk, her expression smug.
That alone confirmed it for him.
* * *
Empek was watching his viewer. A special Federation News Report. The harried female reporter had a look of genuine confusion on her face as she intoned uncertainly, "... received word from a source close to Durant that Admiral Janeway's kidnapping was a publicity stunt for Jonathan Durant's campaign for the presidency. Kathryn Janeway is presently safe, and if these allegations are true, installed in Jonathan Durant's residence. If this revelation proves accurate, it will have profound implications for the upcoming presidential race. Councilman Sovar has already issued a statement condemning--"
Empek didn't need to know more. How convenient that Durant was tarnished before the quadrant shortly after being tarnished in the eyes of the Orion Syndicate. How convenient that whoever had leaked the career-shattering information to the media now was safe from the Syndicate's wrath.
Empek knew who had orchestrated the entire setup.
He looked balefully at the message blinking on the other screen, Durant's request for his presence. He'd ignored it quite purposefully the last few days, trying to puzzle out the true nature of Durant's involvement with the Syndicate. If Janeway truly was back with Durant, as he claimed in his message, perhaps it was high time Empek paid them a visit.
* * *
"Chakotay. COMMANDER CHAKOTAY!"
He shot up, just inches away from cracking his head on the overhead bunk. He stared blearily for a moment around the dim room, disoriented and still bearing the heavy mantle of exhaustion. His mind danced quickly over the events of the last few days-- Seven's magic with Durant's computer, Janeway's abrupt departure, Tom departing for a clandestine meeting with his father. The recent hours had been slow and drawn out, leaving Chakotay hanging in terrible suspense as he waited for the cards to fall.
But now he was confused. Had someone shouted his name? Was there something wrong?
The doors hissed open, and the Doctor's bald head peeked in.
"Commander," the hologram's voice was thin with tension, "You had better get down here."
Chakotay didn't need to be told twice. He threw off the blankets, glanced over briefly at the half-Klingon stubbornly clinging to sleep at his side. He grasped her shoulder with a large hand and shook her insistently.
"B'Elanna..."
Torres half-moaned, half-growled a sleepy, "This better be good."
"I'll let you decide that," the Doctor said from the doorway, gesturing for Chakotay to follow him.
He could hear his heart thumping in his ears as he followed the hologram down the constricted corridor. They emerged into the cockpit to find the ever-stoic Seven of Nine staring grimly at the view screen.
"...in case you are just joining us, the Federation News Network has just received an allegation from a source close to Durant that Admiral Janeway's disappearance is a, and I quote, 'publicity stunt' for Jonathan Durant's campaign. Although the truth of this accusation is still in dispute, the credibility of the source...."
Chakotay listened in mounting horror.
"...the authorities are dismissive of the allegation, but FNN has received confirmation they will nevertheless investigate..."
"My God," Chakotay murmured, rubbing his cheek with his fingers. He found himself at a loss. Of all the scenarios he'd imagined, this was from left field...
"This is good, right?" Torres said, glancing between the others. "They'll find Janeway with him, and the whole lid will be off about the real Durant."
"No, it's not," Chakotay's voice was grim. "If Durant knows they're looking for her, he's going to make sure they never find her.."
"What do you--"
"He'll kill her."
They fell silent, staring mutely at the view screen as the reporter continued relating the story.
Chakotay had a sudden feeling of helplessness, knowing she was down there at the mercy of Durant and beyond his help. How would he find her? She could be anywhere-- Durant's private residences, planetside Syndicate residences. She could be dead already.
No. He shook his head briefly. Not dead. He would know. If she'd been killed, somehow, he would know.
"B'Elanna," he said quietly, "Did Empek ever find those files?"
"Someone stumbled on them. I don't know if it was Empek... But Chakotay, it's only been two days. We don't even know if Empek's received them yet. I don't know if there was time--"
"Then we can't count on Empek to take out Durant," Chakotay said with a calm he did not feel. "We need another approach."
"What do you intend to do?" Seven of Nine asked.
Seeing the look that stole in his eyes, Torres immediately gauged his intent. "Chakotay, no," she said harshly, whipping forward to block his path. "They're looking for you. They still think you're a fugitive down there, and if you're captured you'll play right into Durant's hands..."
He understood her objection. Durant would have a chance to kill him. If Durant succeeded, he could fabricate any story he wanted about Janeway's kidnapping and have Chakotay's body as evidence. He could even kill Kathryn and point the finger to Chakotay without a living party to object to the falsehood. If Chakotay ventured there and the situation went wrong, they would lose everything.
But damn it, Kathryn was in danger. He wasn't going to let Durant kill her, not without a fight, even if it meant he had to put everything on the line.
The Doctor and Seven were not following the exchange, and the Doctor appeared baffled. "Commander, I'm not sure what you mean to accomplish, but--"
Chakotay pushed Torres aside, fumbled beneath the console, and pulled out a phaser compression rifle.
"It's quite simple, Doctor," Chakotay said in a voice that chilled the hologram. His eyes glittered as he stared darkly at the viewscreen. "I'm going to find her, and then I'm going to find him. If Durant's hurt her, he's a dead man."
