The Past Never Dies Quietly
By Didi
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and don't know anyone that does. Suing me will probably get you the 38 cents in my pocket now and nothing more than that.
Summary: Tasha takes steps to confirm a rumor.
Acknowledgement: This story is written following a conversation with Wizard13. Thanks kid for the inspiration. I hope you enjoy this story as I try to write it. No nagging e-mails though.
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Chapter 1
The El Captain was an old theatre that has long since lost its glamour and glitz. Yet seeing the crowd would have to wonder what it was about the old place that still attracted the young and old alike.
The midnight showing of the old 80's movie "The Goonies" had just begun to be seated when Tasha Daxter showed up at the theatre that was jammed packed with teenagers, even on a weekday.
To the rest of the world, Tasha was just a beautiful woman with hair the color of finely aged sherry and dark Italian eyes that have been known to make men beg. She was tall, reaching well beyond the height of most average women at a statuesque five feet eleven inches. Her ever-confident bearing, added to her exotic beauty, drew more attention than the former CIA operative would have liked.
Stepping just inside the main entrance after paying for her ticket, Tasha automatically scanned the room for possible dangers before spotting her quarry standing by a life size poster of "Rollerball." Ignoring the ridiculous catcalls from some of the immature, hormonally driven teenage boys, she studied the man that made the artificially airbrushed, buffed-up poster look pathetically weak.
David Edward Galoostian was a handsome man with his blond hair and blue eyes, the very picture of the All-American good old boy in his prime. Tall, even taller than Tasha, at an impressive six feet one, he was built like an Olympic gymnast with wide powerful shoulders and narrow hips. All in all, he was the kind of man to inspire dreams in most women.
But then, most women were never married to the current director of the Central Intelligence Agency's special task force. Most women didn't have to deal with the crazy long hours, the dangerous missions, the jealous fits and the habitual pulling of rank when she went into dangerous missions.
David straightened from his oh-so causal stand as Tasha neared, smirk lighting onto his face at the obvious irritation on hers. "How are you doing, Tash?"
"Cut the crap David," she muttered darkly, giving the nearby prying ears a good frown. "What do you want?"
He smiled, not in the least bit offended by her lack of greeting. "That's what I always loved about you Tash, you were never one to stand on formality or civility."
If looks could kill…
"All right," he held up a hand in truce. "Let's take a walk." Motioning for her to follow him.
"Where to?" she asked as they began to move along through the red carpeted area. "We're in a movie theatre for god sakes."
"We're going to behave like civilized people and watch a movie," he replied patiently as he guided her by the elbow into the semi crowded theater where "The Goonies" were being shown.
"David," throwing him a look that warned him of her impending anger. "If this is some kind of…?"
"Do you remember when we first saw this movie together?"
"David…" the warning was there even as she allowed him to guide her into a seat toward the back of the theater.
"You must have been all of eighteen, just out of high school and on your way to Duke University I think."
"Please do not tell me that you got me out here to go down memory lane with you?:" She glanced at the crowded place and wonder where people got the time to do these leisurely things.
"All right, all right," he sighed and leaned back in his chair to give a pair of young teens a glare to stay away. "Since you are here, I take it you got my message?"
"Obviously," looking at him with cautious eyes. "How did you get that number anyways? It's classified."
"Connections within," he replied causally. "Took a few favors though."
"I would hope so," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear. "What's this about Peter?"
"Peter?" He raised a brow in inquiry.
Tasha sighed. "The Owl."
"Oh," he nodded his head slowly with great appreciation, "so that's his name."
The impatience was beginning to strain Tasha's face. "David, will you please just get on with this?"
He nodded his blond head and tilted it toward her. "What have you heard of the Stoboiskys?"
Her finely sculptured brows came down in concentration. Tasha was never more beautiful then when she was intent on something. "Russian mobsters that pretty much ran St. Petersburg's after the Cold War. Connections high up before that and still controls what's left of the running government now."
David nodded his head waited until the lights were dimming before speaking again. "Head of the family is Nikolas Stoboisky, 34 years old today. Has a sister name Natasha who ran off with Pietro Rumduska three weeks ago."
She frowned at him. "What does all this have to do with…"
"Patience darling," he grinned, flashing perfectly even white teeth at her. "Natasha not only ran off, she took half the family jewels with her. Including and not excluding some very incriminating documents that linked the Stoboiskys to the murder to several CIA undercover operatives during the whole Operation Stalingrad incident."
"If we know they did it then…"
"No proof, Tasha." David smiled indulgently at her. "You should know by now what proofing something means."
She gave him a humorless smile. "And this has to something to do with the Owl how?"
The look he gave her made the hair on the back of her neck stand up on ends. "Your twice divorced husband was called in to retrieve the papers and to eliminate the Stoboisky traitor." He grew serious. "Six days ago, there were rumors that Natasha Stoboisky left Moscow with her lover and the Owl had been taken out of the picture."
Tasha didn't even blink. "What does that mean?"
"There was a massive explosion in one of the old industrial complexes just south of the city. The Owl was seen in that area not too long before the explosion. Intelligence thinks that it was a trap sent by Natasha Stoboisky for the Owl."
Her face remained expressionless due to the massive amount of training during her operative days. But her eyes flashed a moment with fear, a moment that David did not miss. "Confirmation?"
"No body if that is what you're asking," he replied with a sigh. "The complex went up in smokes along with any evidence as to who started it and if any one was inside of it when it went."
"So no confirmation at all that he's gone?"
"Yes."
There was along silence before Tasha got up slowly. "Thank you for telling me."
"Sit down Daxter, I'm not done yet." He tugged on her arm firmly but gently. She was as stiff as s board as she took her sat once more. "For the past six days, a joint FBI and CIA task force has been trying to confirm the present status of the Owl."
"Why?" she asked, completely devoid of all emotions. "I would think that the agencies would be more than happy to see the Owl out of their hairs."
"He hasn't commented any crimes that we can link to him completely therefore…"
"He is still considered a assist due to his past usefulness to the United States' military," she finished dryly.
"And long and short of it is, yes."
She nodded her head once more. "Anything else?"
David would have sorely loved to be able to shake her out of this cold-heartless façade she appeared to have put up. "Yes, actually."
"What is it?"
"The CIA would like to bring you in on a temporary mission."
That certainly got her attention. "Excuse me?"
"We'd like you to find the Owl for us."
Her brows rose. "And if I do find him?"
David held up his head in appeasement, the corner if his lips curled slightly. "We simply want an update on his current status."
"You want me to find out whether he is dead or not?"
"Yes."
"And not bring him in if he is fortunately enough to be still with the living?"
"Only if he wishes to come in on his own accord."
For a moment, she looked almost amused. "And how did you get the brass to agree to that little plan?"
He gave her fond smile. "They saw the wisdom in that particular plan."
Tasha hesitated a moment. "David, did you…"
"What is good for the county isn't always bad for us all." He replied.
She smiled genuinely for the first time. "Thank you."
Feigning ignorance he asked, "What for?"
"For everything," she bent and kissed him on the cheek before getting up again.
He reached for her hand, "Tasha?"
"What?"
"Why did you divorce him and marry me?"
She didn't answer. Pulling her hand free, she walked away.
He watched her until she disappeared through the entrance of the theatre feeling a little hurt and a little resigned. It was a little later that he realized that he was glad she hadn't answered him. He didn't think his ego could take that kind of abuse.
By Didi
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and don't know anyone that does. Suing me will probably get you the 38 cents in my pocket now and nothing more than that.
Summary: Tasha takes steps to confirm a rumor.
Acknowledgement: This story is written following a conversation with Wizard13. Thanks kid for the inspiration. I hope you enjoy this story as I try to write it. No nagging e-mails though.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 1
The El Captain was an old theatre that has long since lost its glamour and glitz. Yet seeing the crowd would have to wonder what it was about the old place that still attracted the young and old alike.
The midnight showing of the old 80's movie "The Goonies" had just begun to be seated when Tasha Daxter showed up at the theatre that was jammed packed with teenagers, even on a weekday.
To the rest of the world, Tasha was just a beautiful woman with hair the color of finely aged sherry and dark Italian eyes that have been known to make men beg. She was tall, reaching well beyond the height of most average women at a statuesque five feet eleven inches. Her ever-confident bearing, added to her exotic beauty, drew more attention than the former CIA operative would have liked.
Stepping just inside the main entrance after paying for her ticket, Tasha automatically scanned the room for possible dangers before spotting her quarry standing by a life size poster of "Rollerball." Ignoring the ridiculous catcalls from some of the immature, hormonally driven teenage boys, she studied the man that made the artificially airbrushed, buffed-up poster look pathetically weak.
David Edward Galoostian was a handsome man with his blond hair and blue eyes, the very picture of the All-American good old boy in his prime. Tall, even taller than Tasha, at an impressive six feet one, he was built like an Olympic gymnast with wide powerful shoulders and narrow hips. All in all, he was the kind of man to inspire dreams in most women.
But then, most women were never married to the current director of the Central Intelligence Agency's special task force. Most women didn't have to deal with the crazy long hours, the dangerous missions, the jealous fits and the habitual pulling of rank when she went into dangerous missions.
David straightened from his oh-so causal stand as Tasha neared, smirk lighting onto his face at the obvious irritation on hers. "How are you doing, Tash?"
"Cut the crap David," she muttered darkly, giving the nearby prying ears a good frown. "What do you want?"
He smiled, not in the least bit offended by her lack of greeting. "That's what I always loved about you Tash, you were never one to stand on formality or civility."
If looks could kill…
"All right," he held up a hand in truce. "Let's take a walk." Motioning for her to follow him.
"Where to?" she asked as they began to move along through the red carpeted area. "We're in a movie theatre for god sakes."
"We're going to behave like civilized people and watch a movie," he replied patiently as he guided her by the elbow into the semi crowded theater where "The Goonies" were being shown.
"David," throwing him a look that warned him of her impending anger. "If this is some kind of…?"
"Do you remember when we first saw this movie together?"
"David…" the warning was there even as she allowed him to guide her into a seat toward the back of the theater.
"You must have been all of eighteen, just out of high school and on your way to Duke University I think."
"Please do not tell me that you got me out here to go down memory lane with you?:" She glanced at the crowded place and wonder where people got the time to do these leisurely things.
"All right, all right," he sighed and leaned back in his chair to give a pair of young teens a glare to stay away. "Since you are here, I take it you got my message?"
"Obviously," looking at him with cautious eyes. "How did you get that number anyways? It's classified."
"Connections within," he replied causally. "Took a few favors though."
"I would hope so," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear. "What's this about Peter?"
"Peter?" He raised a brow in inquiry.
Tasha sighed. "The Owl."
"Oh," he nodded his head slowly with great appreciation, "so that's his name."
The impatience was beginning to strain Tasha's face. "David, will you please just get on with this?"
He nodded his blond head and tilted it toward her. "What have you heard of the Stoboiskys?"
Her finely sculptured brows came down in concentration. Tasha was never more beautiful then when she was intent on something. "Russian mobsters that pretty much ran St. Petersburg's after the Cold War. Connections high up before that and still controls what's left of the running government now."
David nodded his head waited until the lights were dimming before speaking again. "Head of the family is Nikolas Stoboisky, 34 years old today. Has a sister name Natasha who ran off with Pietro Rumduska three weeks ago."
She frowned at him. "What does all this have to do with…"
"Patience darling," he grinned, flashing perfectly even white teeth at her. "Natasha not only ran off, she took half the family jewels with her. Including and not excluding some very incriminating documents that linked the Stoboiskys to the murder to several CIA undercover operatives during the whole Operation Stalingrad incident."
"If we know they did it then…"
"No proof, Tasha." David smiled indulgently at her. "You should know by now what proofing something means."
She gave him a humorless smile. "And this has to something to do with the Owl how?"
The look he gave her made the hair on the back of her neck stand up on ends. "Your twice divorced husband was called in to retrieve the papers and to eliminate the Stoboisky traitor." He grew serious. "Six days ago, there were rumors that Natasha Stoboisky left Moscow with her lover and the Owl had been taken out of the picture."
Tasha didn't even blink. "What does that mean?"
"There was a massive explosion in one of the old industrial complexes just south of the city. The Owl was seen in that area not too long before the explosion. Intelligence thinks that it was a trap sent by Natasha Stoboisky for the Owl."
Her face remained expressionless due to the massive amount of training during her operative days. But her eyes flashed a moment with fear, a moment that David did not miss. "Confirmation?"
"No body if that is what you're asking," he replied with a sigh. "The complex went up in smokes along with any evidence as to who started it and if any one was inside of it when it went."
"So no confirmation at all that he's gone?"
"Yes."
There was along silence before Tasha got up slowly. "Thank you for telling me."
"Sit down Daxter, I'm not done yet." He tugged on her arm firmly but gently. She was as stiff as s board as she took her sat once more. "For the past six days, a joint FBI and CIA task force has been trying to confirm the present status of the Owl."
"Why?" she asked, completely devoid of all emotions. "I would think that the agencies would be more than happy to see the Owl out of their hairs."
"He hasn't commented any crimes that we can link to him completely therefore…"
"He is still considered a assist due to his past usefulness to the United States' military," she finished dryly.
"And long and short of it is, yes."
She nodded her head once more. "Anything else?"
David would have sorely loved to be able to shake her out of this cold-heartless façade she appeared to have put up. "Yes, actually."
"What is it?"
"The CIA would like to bring you in on a temporary mission."
That certainly got her attention. "Excuse me?"
"We'd like you to find the Owl for us."
Her brows rose. "And if I do find him?"
David held up his head in appeasement, the corner if his lips curled slightly. "We simply want an update on his current status."
"You want me to find out whether he is dead or not?"
"Yes."
"And not bring him in if he is fortunately enough to be still with the living?"
"Only if he wishes to come in on his own accord."
For a moment, she looked almost amused. "And how did you get the brass to agree to that little plan?"
He gave her fond smile. "They saw the wisdom in that particular plan."
Tasha hesitated a moment. "David, did you…"
"What is good for the county isn't always bad for us all." He replied.
She smiled genuinely for the first time. "Thank you."
Feigning ignorance he asked, "What for?"
"For everything," she bent and kissed him on the cheek before getting up again.
He reached for her hand, "Tasha?"
"What?"
"Why did you divorce him and marry me?"
She didn't answer. Pulling her hand free, she walked away.
He watched her until she disappeared through the entrance of the theatre feeling a little hurt and a little resigned. It was a little later that he realized that he was glad she hadn't answered him. He didn't think his ego could take that kind of abuse.