Broken Promises

Chapter Two

Frank shuffled through another seemingly endless pile of papers. There was a lot of things he enjoyed about teaching, but filling out evaluations wasn't one of them. He sighed tiredly as he sat at his desk, threw his pen down on the desktop, and stretched his arms over his head trying to relieve his tired muscles. He'd been at it for well over three hours and needed a break….badly. Rising from his chair, he sauntered over to the partially opened window and gazed out at the courtyard below him. He felt restless. Being cooped up in an office, (albeit a rather nicely furnished office) still wasn't his idea of how to spend a spring afternoon. At least when he was teaching, he was up and about.

He turned around, and again stared at the mountain of paperwork. The evaluations didn't need to be completed immediately, so he considered playing hooky for the afternoon. A slight smile graced his lips, remembering how he'd surprised Laura just a week ago. She'll kill me if I ever try that again! But the urge to return home was almost overpowering. After a moment or two more of consideration, he promptly closed the open window and headed for the door, fishing out his keys as he did so. Once in the hallway, he engaged the lock and he was off. In minutes he was outside, breathing in the fresh air and feeling 100% better. Slipping into his car seconds later, he was gone.

The closer he got to home, the better and better he felt. It wasn't that he hated his job, in fact he quite enjoyed it. And what he liked the best about it, was being able to slip away virtually whenever he wanted to. In the old days, he would sometimes be called away for days and sometimes weeks at a time. And even when he was in town, there were still numerous times when he wouldn't drag his tired body home until midnight or after. In the past year, he could count the number of times that he'd missed dinner on one hand. Life was pretty good. Although sometimes dull, he wouldn't trade it for anything.

While maneuvering easily through traffic, a car in his rearview mirror, for some reason, caught his eye. He'd subconsciously been aware of the car from the second he'd left the Quantico facility, but only now really acknowledged its presence. Since this was a rather heavily traveled section of the highway, at first he'd thought nothing of it. But when the car seemed to be matching him lane change for lane change, he began to be concerned.

Not knowing if the situation was dangerous or not, Frank decided to take a detour, instead of leading what could be trouble, straight to his home. Taking the next exit, Frank noticed that the car did exactly the same. As he slowed at the end of the exit ramp, he tried to get a better look at the vehicle as it came a bit closer. It was black, a full size sedan, and had no front plates. He knew immediately that this was some sort of government car, but was perplexed as to why they'd be following him. So instead of continuing the chase, he turned into an relatively deserted shopping center parking lot and stopped, forcing the other vehicle to make its move.

Once the car was in park, Frank exited his vehicle and waited to see what the other car would do, and much to his surprise, it entered the same lot and pulled up directly next to him.

He could see the two "suits" inside and immediately wondered what the hell was going on. The two men exited their car and approached Frank.

"Agent Donovan?" the one man asked politely with a fake smile on his face.

"Yes," Frank answered tentatively, "what can I do for you? And more importantly, who are you and why were you following me?"

The man standing closest to him reached inside his suit jacket and retrieved something. He approached Frank and opened up his wallet to present his credentials. The minute Frank saw the man's badge, he began to frown furiously.

"CIA? What does the CIA want with me?" he asked suspiciously.

"If you wouldn't mind coming with us for just a short while, I'm sure all of your questions will be answered."

"How about you answer the questions for me right here and right now?" Frank responded, now becoming more than a little annoyed.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Agent Donovan. We were just sent to retrieve you. The man that can answer those questions is waiting for you now."

"You can still answer one question…..why were you following me?"

"Like I said, we were sent to pick you up. We hadn't anticipated that you would leave your office earlier than usual. It was just luck that we saw your car leaving the lot just as we pulled up."

"What the hell do you mean that you hadn't anticipated that I would be leaving earlier than usual?" Frank asked with a thunderous look in his eyes.

"Again, Agent Donovan, perhaps those questions would be best left to those that can answer them," the man responded, once again plastering that fake smile on his face.

Frank continued to glare at the two men before him, his arms now crossed over his chest. He was more than aware that these two knew nothing. They were lackeys….messengers and nothing more, but he still didn't want to play along. He was more than a bit disturbed by the idea that they were aware of his regular routine. Have they been following me? And if so, for how long?

The other man finally stepped forward. As the older of the two, he was probably the senior agent. He had an air about him that said that he'd had just about enough of the delays. "Agent Donovan……I'm sure you have better things to do with your time than to stand here all afternoon and talk to us. As my partner has informed you, we were sent to bring you to a meeting and nothing more. Now…..if you'll be so kind as to come with us, we'll be sure to have you on your way so you won't miss dinner in a few hours. Isn't that when your wife's expecting you home…..around 6:00 or so?" the man asked with a slightly malicious tone to his voice.

If Frank wasn't angered before, he certainly was now. So they had been tailing him. And he was more than a little pissed off at the reference to his wife. Have they been watching the house as well??

"And if I refuse?" Frank asked just to see the man's reaction.

"I assure you, Agent Donovan, you wouldn't want to do that," the older man informed him coldly.

"Fine….." Frank finally relented, "but I'm driving myself. I'll follow you to wherever this so-called meeting will take place." He then gave both men a look that said 'don't fuck with me on this'.

Both men hesitated for a few seconds before the senior agent responded. "As you wish, but please remember….we know where to find you, if you should decide to ditch us along the way."

Frank glared at the man and ground out between clenched teeth, "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

"No…..just stating a fact," the other agent answered, appearing to be calm on the outside, but Frank noticed the vein in the man's forehead throbbing a little more noticeably than it had just minutes before.

Without further ceremony, Frank reentered his car and waited for the other vehicle to pull out before moving.

Once on their way, Frank's mind raced. What can they want with me now, and why after so much time has gone by? A dozen scenarios played in his head, none of which were good. They needed something. But what? He'd been out of the game for many years now, so why bring him in for a "meeting". Sighing to himself, he knew he'd have to wait awhile longer before he got the answers he needed.

He glanced at the cell phone lying on the passenger seat, and considered for a brief second calling Laura and telling her about what was happening. He grabbed the phone and stared at it. Should he call or not? Was it worth worrying her about it? Maybe this meeting was nothing. Maybe they just needed some information about a past mission. Something that couldn't be discussed over the phone. After a few more seconds of internal debate, he returned the phone to its former resting place. Perhaps this was all for nothing. At least that's what he truly hoped.

Twenty minutes later, the lead car ultimately pulled into an abandoned office complex. The buildings had had the unfortunate bad luck of being located near one of the seedier parts of DC. Of course it hadn't started out that way, but the ever-present urban sprawl had taken its toll. The vehicles finally halted in front of one of the buildings near the rear of the property.

Frank exited his car and eyeballed the structure. To say that it was in bad need of repair, would have been a major understatement. They sure know how to pick 'em, don't they? His reverie, however, was soon disturbed by one of the agents asking him to follow them into the building. Sighing tiredly, he relented.

He was led to a room that had probably once served as a conference room of sorts. It was long, relatively narrow and even still had a dilapidated table situated at its center, and sitting rather patiently on one side of that table was the one man that Frank Donovan had hoped that he'd never see again.

"Frank…." the man began, rising from his chair, "it's so nice to see you again."

Frank didn't immediately respond, but instead took a few seconds to look the man over. In the decade or so since he'd last seen him, Raymond Marsh had changed very little. Frank knew the man's history….his reputation. He'd made a mark for himself early on in his career and shot up through the ranks at nearly meteoric speed, but suddenly his career advancement had stopped. He officially held the title of CIA supervisor, but everyone knew that he was the man that you went to to get things done. The kinds of things that no one else seemed to want to tackle. The fact that he was the one who held this meeting unsettled Frank quite a bit.

"Raymond," Frank finally responded his eyes narrowed in immediate distrust. "Why am I here?"

The older man smiled. "Always to the point, eh, Frank?"

Frank chose not to respond, but just continued to stare at the other man.

Raymond then motioned for the other two agents to leave them alone, which they did. Frank could here the outside door open and close.

"All right…..let's get down to business. You want to know why you're here? I'll tell you. We need you back. Plain and simple."

Frank didn't even hesitate for a split second before answering, "No."

"I don't mean permanently, Frank. I'm talking about a temporary assignment."

"No."

"Let me explain….."

Before Raymond could go any further, Frank interrupted, "you can explain until you're blue in the face, but the bottom line is that I'm not coming back. Period."

Raymond sat back down at the table and steepled his hands in front of him. He was staring down at the table top, but soon elevated his eyes to look into Frank's, and what Frank saw there gave him the shivers. The man had eyes as cold as an Arctic wind. His reputation was one of getting things done at any cost….any cost, and suddenly Frank was afraid, not for himself but for the people closest to him. Raymond Marsh was going to get what he wanted, one way or another, and that was when Frank knew that he was in big trouble.

"Frank….." Raymond started again slowly, "we've known each other a long time. You know me…..you know that I'll eventually get you to relent, so let's stop the bullshit and get down to business."

Frank knew that he spoke the truth, but something inside him just wouldn't give in that easily. "No," Frank answered again, although with a little less conviction.

Raymond had had enough. Once again rising from his chair, he leaned forward, his knuckles resting on the dingy table. "Now listen to me, Agent Donovan, and listen carefully. I have a mission to accomplish, and come hell or high water, you are going to be a part of that mission." Frank opened his mouth to protest further, but never got the chance before Marsh continued. "You see Frank….you're going to be a rather vital part of this job and as much as I hate to admit it, in this case, you're irreplaceable. Soooo….this is what I suggest you do……take a few seconds to think about it and then tell me what I want to hear. If not……well…..let's just say that I'd hate for anything to happen to that loving family you have."

Frank was almost speechless. His whole body shook from the rage building inside him, but something held him back. Something prevented him from launching himself across the room and snapping the man's neck like a dry twig. And that something was knowing that the man meant every single word he said. Frank knew that if he didn't accept this assignment, Marsh would have his family targeted. That's why they knew his schedule. They'd been following him and his family for some time now, just gathering information to ultimately get what they wanted…..and they wanted his cooperation.

With his jaw firmly clenched, Frank finally asked the question that he'd been dreading, "What do you want from me?"

"Luis Mendoza," was the curt reply that he received.

Frank couldn't look at the man any longer, so instead he turned away and walked toward one of the windows at the end of the room. He stared out the window blankly and instantaneously felt so much older than his 39 years. He raised his hands and placed them on either side of the window, closed his eyes and hung his head. Luis Mendoza…..Jesus fucking Christ…..why him and why now?!?

Sighing almost sadly, Frank asked, "Why? Isn't Mendoza supposed to be dead?" He heard Marsh move toward him, before responding .

"Frank…..you know us……we keep people like Luis alive for a reason. We might need them one day, and that day, Frank, is today."

Finally opening his eyes, Frank turned his head and looked at the man standing at his shoulder. "I….I can't do it……not again," he said with a slightly pleading tone to his voice.

Marsh put his hand on Frank's shoulder in an almost comforting gesture, and answered, "Agent Donovan, you're capable of so many things. Would you care for me to make a list? How about I start with the names of every man you've gunned down in your long and illustrious career, hmmm?? Or how about all of the other sordid little activities that you were involved in while undercover. How many women did you fuck in order to get vital information, Frank? Or did you forget about all of that too??"

Frank shrugged the man's hand off of his shoulder as if it were riddled with disease and walked to the opposite end of the room. He turned and glared at Raymond Marsh for all he was worth. Hate would have been an understatement for what he felt right now. Hate……rage….disgust….and panic. He was being forced back into a life that he swore he'd given up well over a decade ago, and what frightened him more than anything was knowing that there was no way out.

The two men continued to stare, one at the other. What seemed like minutes ticked by in the seemingly sweltering room, before Frank finally spoke again, "When?"

Marsh almost smiled at the question, knowing that the agent had finally seen reason. "Soon….maybe within a week. I don't expect the assignment to last too long. Maybe 3 or 4 months."

Frank closed his eyes once more, and folded his arms across his chest. How was he going to explain this to Laura? To his children? And what guarantee did he have that it wouldn't take longer than that? He had none, he knew that as certainly as he knew that the sun would rise in the east tomorrow morning. Within one week, he would be forced to leave behind everything that he loved more than life itself, in order to do one more job for the CIA. If there was a hell, Frank Donovan was now on an express train there.

Opening his eyes once more, he looked at Marsh and said dejectedly, "Give me at least one week and I'll go."

Without a second's hesitation, Marsh responded, "Fine…you have one week. After that I expect you to report to me at CIA headquarters."

Without another word, Frank turned to leave, needing to put space between himself and the man who was the closest thing to the devil incarnate in his eyes. He walked briskly down the hall and pushed the door open so hard it almost came off its rusty hinges. Once outside, Frank breathed in the fresh air as if it might be his last. He stood there for a few seconds before approaching his car and sliding behind the wheel, which he gripped tightly, trying to control the jumble of emotions inside of him. Then he swiftly started the engine and peeled out of the parking area just as quickly as the vehicle could go.

Once on the road, he allowed the seriousness of the situation to begin to sink in. He was being led back into a life that he hated…despised with every fiber of his being. He knew what it meant. Not only was he physically going to be away from his wife and children for an indeterminate amount of time, but he was going to have to do everything he could to forget them. At least temporarily. Where he was going, they couldn't follow. Not even in his thoughts and dreams. For those 3 or 4 months, it would be only him….only Luis Mendoza.

Part of him wanted to turn the car around and tell Raymond Marsh to go back to hell and take his fucking assignment with him, but he knew he couldn't do that. If he did, Laura and the children would never be safe. He had to do this in order to keep them out of harm's way, and he knew that they'd never understand that. He groaned inwardly thinking about how he was going to tell Laura what he had to do. He could picture the scene perfectly. He'd promised her, pure and simple….promised her that he would never go back to that life. He could almost see the hurt in her eyes now. She'd feel betrayed and he wouldn't blame her….not one bit.

He drove around for another hour or so, before finally heading for home. He'd been avoiding it, as if doing so would somehow make the inevitable go away. But in the end, he finally did, knowing that he only had a week, and he didn't want to waste one second more of it.

Pulling into the driveway, he took a few minutes to stare at his house. He wanted to memorize every detail, but he knew it would make little difference. In a week he would just force himself to forget it all. Sighing tiredly, he finally opened the door to the car and approached his home.

Before he'd made it even five steps, the front door flew open, and his 4 year old daughter came bounding out. "Daddy!" she squealed with glee, rushing to meet him.

He couldn't help but smile in return, even though inside his heart was nearly breaking. She somehow launched herself into his arms and hugged him fiercely.

"Hey princess! How's my little girl today?" he asked her.

"I'm great! Look Daddy," she commanded, showing him something that she held possessively in her hand. He looked down at the paper carefully folded there. Taking it from her, he opened it up and gazed at the drawing that she'd undoubtedly made. In crayon, she'd depicted what he took to be himself, Laura and her brother Christopher. They stood in front of what he assumed was their house, but there was something he couldn't quite make out up in the sky.

"It's wonderful! Did you draw this yourself?" he asked her. She nodded enthusiastically and proudly, her smile lighting up her face. "What's this, princess?" he asked pointing to the unknown part of the picture.

She took the picture from his hand and explained everything to him. "That's you and Mommy, and Christopher and that," she said now pointing to the part that Frank had been unable to make out, "that's Michael. He's an angel."

Frank looked back down at the picture and could just barely see the halo around the figure's head. She didn't remember her older brother. She'd been too young when he died of leukemia, but they'd told her about him, and he remembered Laura telling both of the children that Michael was in heaven now. Somehow, Alicia had remembered that.

He couldn't say anything for a few seconds. Even now, after so many years, remembering Michael's death could still catch him off guard, and in this instance, it was accomplished by the innocent drawing of a child.

"It's beautiful, baby," he whispered as he kissed her temple lovingly.

"Do you want to keep it?" she asked him, her eyes filled with the pride she felt at what she considered to be a huge accomplishment.

"I would love to," he answered her. "I'll put it in my wallet so I'll have it with me always, but will you do one thing for me first?" She looked at him expectantly. "Will you take the picture and draw yourself in there with the rest of us? That way I can have all of you with me."

"OK, Daddy," she answered him with another loving smile. She then took the picture from his hand, shimmied herself out of his arms and ran toward the house at full speed. He watched her go, and followed a few seconds later.

Upon entering his home, he could hear Laura yelling at Alicia to 'not run in the house', and he couldn't help but smile. He followed the sound of her voice, and found her in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove.

"Hey there, handsome," she greeted him, briefly glancing in his direction. "I was wondering when you were going to get home. How was your day?"

How was my day?? Well….first I was bored silly doing evaluations and then I was blackmailed into rejoining the CIA. How about you? He almost couldn't answer her at first, but he quickly found the strength to reply, "It was fine. How were things here?" he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

She turned to him then, and really looked at him. There had been something in the sound of his voice that she didn't like, and in the instant she looked at him, she knew that something was wrong. "What is it?" she asked worriedly, her eyebrows knitting together in concern.

She knew him too well. That was the problem. After 11 years together, there was little he could hide from her, but now was not the time for explanations. "It's nothing." She opened her mouth to ask him again, but before she could, their two boisterous children entered the kitchen, hungry for their dinner.

Frank's attention immediately shifted to the kids. He played with them….joked with them…..and couldn't stop touching them, and the whole time Laura stood back and watched……and worried. Frank was a loving, caring father, but the attention he was giving them now, made her think that he was behaving like he hadn't seen them in a long time, not just since breakfast. Something most definitely was wrong. She could feel it.

So the evening went on. They had an enjoyable dinner. The children chattered endlessly about this and that and Frank absorbed every single word and syllable. And after the meal was over, he made it a point to spend as much time as he could with each of them before bedtime rolled around. And through it all, Laura worried all the more.

Later on, she quietly entered Alicia's room and saw something that she hadn't seen in a very long time. Frank was sitting in the rocking chair with Alicia asleep in his arms. From the doorway, she could have sworn she heard him talking to their sleeping daughter, but she couldn't be sure. She slipped from the room and returned to their own bedroom and waited for him.

Twenty more minutes passed before he came to her. He didn't say a word. He just approached her, took her hand, pulled her gently to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. He didn't want to think about it….not tonight. He wanted just one more night before everything would change. He wanted one more night to be a part of his children's lives. He wanted one more night to make love to his wife without seeing the hurt in her eyes.

She could feel his desperation as he held her. His arms were almost too tight, but she didn't complain. Whatever it was….whatever was bothering him, she wanted to help.

"Frank?" she said softly.

"Sshhhh….not tonight. Please?" he implored, not lifting his head. She was truly scared now, but she gave in to his wishes, and just let him love her.

One last night………

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~