She was magnificent.
Neil watched his wife with a mixture of reverence and disbelief. Feet planted slightly apart, eyes as hard and unyielding as her aim, the gun held with expert looseness in both hands…
Damn, he was a lucky man.
"Call the police," Elsa ordered the shell-shocked security guard. Sloane leaned heavily on the doorframe, blood dripping onto the just-mopped white floor.
He nodded and hurried to the front desk to obey, head flopping up and down so fast that a still-detached Neil wondered if it would fall off.
"What did you do to my son?" Elsa barked at their former captor, her hatred palpable. "If you've so much as looked at him, I'll kill you!"
"Then I am relieved that I don't even know where he is," Sloane drawled. If anything, he had the gall to look amused.
Elsa glared at him, biting her lip to keep from losing her temper and distracting herself. "I don't believe you," she spat. "Why else would you be here?"
And then Neil snapped out of his haze. If Sloane was telling the truth about Aaron - which he almost believed, since his little boy had just been brought in - that left only one other person the man would visit.
Vaughn.
"The police are on their way," the guard blubbered nervously. "Can I have my gun back?"
"What did you do to him?" Neil thundered, ignoring the inexperienced boy. Elsa's eyes widened, her thoughts mirroring her husband's.
Sloane took a halting step forward, only to stagger as his injured ankle folded with strain. He fell back against the doorframe, eyes catching the reflection of a bordering window as he did so.
"You'll find young Mr. Vaughn resting peacefully," he said between clenched teeth, leaning over to press a handkerchief to the bullet wound. The former Russian spy would owe him for this. "I did nothing to him."
Elsa simply waited, her aim remaining steady. And she wasn't the only one. One moment, there were four against one; with one of the four armed, another near a phone, the third also trained as a spy, and the fourth in law enforcement. It seemed so easy…
And then Sloane glanced behind himself again. Standing a little farther away, Neil inclined his head, trying to follow his gaze. And then his heart thudded against his chest, almost in tandem to Sloane's movements as the spry other man vaulted out of the way.
Alarmed, Neil shot forward, grabbing his wife around the waist and jerking her back, just moments before a white van drove through the glass doors. He twisted her in midair, lightly plucking the gun from her hand and then forcing her to the floor, shielding her with his own body.
Sloane too, turned away, one hand coming up to cover his face as glass flew everywhere.
"Get in!" The van's occupant yelled at him.
Neil, bringing the gun up to fire, froze in midair. He knew that voice…
"Hello again, Mr. Caplan," Irina nodded to him, and not a hair was out of place. It was as though driving through buildings was a regular occurrence for her, for all the ease and relaxation evident in her stance.
From beneath him, Elsa yelled at him to fire. But he couldn't, even as Sloane limped around the van and climbed in the passenger side. He couldn't risk hitting Irina. It was foolish and he would forever regret it, but the woman had let him go. The CIA had no doubt she had probably saved his life in doing so. We're even now, he thought toward her.
So instead he crouched on the floor, one hand anchoring his wife behind him, the other aiming uselessly at the van. And he cursed himself for his morals.
"Be seeing you," Irina smiled at him. Sloane gave him a mini-salute. The van pulled away, careening down the road with two known terrorists in tow.
The four survivors just stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, bleeding lightly. The glass around the automatic double doors had imploded inward and outward. Everyone was injured slightly.
Elsa turned him around. He braced himself, knowing what he'd see. Disappointment, anger, frustration…
But even NSA recruits could be wrong, for all the brilliance in their ranks.
"Are you all right?" she questioned. A tiny bit of glass had embedded itself over his eyelid when he had shielded her. She brought up a trembling hand to touch the wound, noting the blood.
"Won't even scar," he assured her.
She lowered her head, as though she couldn't even look at her husband. Shame flooded through him.
"Elsa," he pleaded. "Elsa, I couldn't - "
But then her chin raised high and she laughed a little, wrapping her arms around his waist and drawing him towards her. He closed his eyes, relishing her warmth. "I know," she whispered. "I love you. For that and otherwise."
He glowed with her approval, blinking away the frustrating redness cascading into his eye. The gradual pain awoke another concern for him. "Aaron," he realized, gut twisting. "Aaron and Michael!"
"Oh God!" Elsa breathed. Her husband was fine. What of her little boy and the man that had saved all three of them?
"Fourth floor," the security guard interrupted, snapping out of his shock. "I'll update everyone. Go."
Without another word, the Caplans shot for the elevator.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Sark, I have an update for you."
"Oh?"
"Regarding the agent."
"I'm waiting."
Two hours later
"This is Jack."
"Jack, this is David. An official report will be filed, but I wanted to tell you myself. There's uh, something you should know."
Jack sat up straight, frowning at the tone in his old friend's voice. "Is everything all right?" he inquired, striving to keep his own voice low and neutral.
"Sort of. The kid had a visitor early this morning. I can't be sure of course, civilian that I am, but I believe it was our former compatriot Arvin Sloane."
Jack froze, body turning to ice. Across the room, Eric frowned to himself at the sight of a suddenly, unexplainably, livid Jack.
"What happened?"
David sighed. "Security cameras show Arvin conning his way past the marshals you assigned. He was alone with my patient for approximately ten minutes, half of those your marshals spent somewhere besides their posts."
The doctor paused. Unseen by Jack, a knowing smile spread across his face as he rubbed his tired eyes. "You can ask me how he is. I promise to keep that between us and not let it affect your reputation."
More than a little worried, Weiss headed towards Jack.
"What?" Jack asked, deep in thought, not noticing. Vaughn was clearly fine, David would not be his typical lighthearted self if something serious had happened to him. Truthfully, the elder Bristow's concerns lay not with Vaughn, but with why Sloane had risked a visit. At least that's what he told himself.
"Is he all right?" the game theorist asked, the first question more out of obligation than anything. "Has he been able to tell you what Arvin wanted?"
"He's… sleeping. Bastard injected him right in the throat with an IV feeder needle. Damn thing's almost as big as half my leg. What time is it? 8? If he wakes up tonight at 8, I'll seriously consider releasing him."
David groaned, rolling over in his chair and stooping down to retrieve his hidden coffee. The nurse, sitting slightly behind him at the station and typing the promised report, smirked at him.
"He'll be fine," he continued, taking a sip and shuddering in relief as the bitter liquid invaded his senses. "I'm estimating he'll wake up tomorrow around lunch. Pinprick to bandage, but otherwise his brief return to captivity won't leave any real lasting impressions. Physically, anyway. Have you talked to Judy?"
"Barnett?"
"Is there another? Jack, he really should talk to someone. Not just about this, but you know, everything…" David trailed off.
"I'll talk to her," Jack answered briefly, still holding his emotions in check and suddenly very aware that Eric leaned on the desk behind him.
"Good."
"Where are the guards? Does Va - does the wing have sufficient protection?"
Weiss dropped his head as his fears were confirmed.
"I have half of Security in this hallway. Hell, I'm even wearing a sidearm myself under my scrubs. As for your two rookies, they're sitting in my office and have been ordered not to leave until you get here. Aaron Caplan is up here, too - I know it's irregular, but I am Chief, and that whole family could be a target."
Jack nodded to himself, leaning back in his chair. Eric shifted his feet.
"When did you realize Arvin had been there?" Jack questioned, mind processing information quickly that would help him outplan and outthink Sloane at his own game.
"Oh. Shortly after Elsa Caplan shot him and your dead wife drove him away."
Jack shot out of his chair with far more energy than he typically displayed. David's voice was utterly deadpan. "What was that?"
"You heard me. Let's see… after settling the other kid into a room, I went up to check on Michael - last night was the first time I'd actually drugged him to sleep. Which worked, by the way. I noticed right away he was lying rather oddly on the bed. I accidentally kicked something in my hurry to see what was wrong - bent down to to see what it was; damn feeder syringe. A gun, probably Michael's, had been tossed against the wall. I saw it when I bent down to pick up the needle. Sloane left him behind a little present, too."
David swiveled in his chair, glancing at the nurse to make sure she was taking notes of his comments. She shook her head. "I'm not your secretary, you know," she groused, though she didn't seem to mind.
"I'll make it up to you, Anna," he promised. "I'll let you wear teal scrubs instead of blue."
She made a face at him.
"What's going on?"
Jack turned. Kendall had joined an increasingly impatient Weiss.
"Sloane ambushed Mike in his room," Eric growled.
Kendall's jaw dropped.
"Jack?"
"Here, David," he answered. His audience could wait. "Continue. What did Arvin leave behind?"
"Pictures. Lots of them. No idea on who the people in them are. I would say your daughter, but I understand she and Agent Vaughn have a little something between them?"
"Oh," Jack said, thrown. "Apparently, yes. I suppose."
"The woman isn't her, because she's kissing another guy," David said. The photos sat in front of him, and he couldn't help another look. The young woman certainly looked like…
And then something else caught his eye. The woman in the pictures was kissing another man, yes, but her body was stiff. Either that man was the worst kisser that ever lived (and therefore she was the most tolerant woman), or the kiss was not a willing one.
"Well, actually, she very well could be Sydney," he mused.
"Jack," the FBI Deputy Director said again, clearly waiting.
Jack sat up straight again, wrapping up. Weiss he wasn't concerned about, but Kendall was not a man accustomed to being ignored.
"David, I'll be over in a bit," he hesitated, but couldn't help himself. "Notify me of any changes."
"You're softening up, 'Agent Bristow,'" David drawled. "Never thought I'd see the day. Will do."
They disconnected.
"Jack. What's this about an ambush?" Kendall crossed his arms over his chest, frowning in both concern and irritation.
Jack stood, tucking his phone away. "Agent Weiss was correct," he informed his audience. "But Dr. Matthews says that Agent Vaughn will not be adversely affected. I will question his former guards myself."
The two seasoned veterans exchanged a glance unnoticed by the more raw younger agent. Both wondered at the motive. Why would Sloane risk a visit? Reasons related to Sydney, or a simple message to the Agency that he could do whatever he liked with utterly no effort, including attacking a man under armed protection?
Eric shook his head, obliviously frustrated and worried. "Sirs," he ground out, "and then what? You'll assign more guards for Sloane to trick? I'm beginning to wonder if Mike is safe at the hospital. I would have left him in Spain and not risked flying him back if I'd known something like this was going to happen!"
"You have a point," Kendall told him, impressed at the way his thoughts mirrored theirs. He rubbed his forehead.
"Are you prepared to make an alternate recommendation?" Jack inquired, amused at the younger agent's brazenness.
"Yes I am," Eric replied without hesitation. "Transfer him to Medical Services here in the Rotunda. If he's strong enough to move on his own, he's stable enough to be brought here. We could even do it while he sleeps off the rest of whatever Sloane put in him. If someone can get to him here, we might as well all retire."
Kendall pursed his lips, eyebrow raised in return as he and Jack exchanged another glance. "Thoughts?" he questioned.
"Just one," Jack mused. "Dr. Matthews believes Vaughn is suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Removing him from a familiar environment without his knowledge could do more harm than good."
Weiss looked away. It was no surprise really, he'd seen firsthand what had been done to his friend. But hearing Michael's condition put into words - into a mental illness that he could, quite possibly, choose to never recover from…
But Kendall nodded to himself. Emotion could come later. Now was the time for logic. "Easily fixed. The doctor is ex-CIA, right? Once an operative, always an operative. Matthews will be fully restored the moment I find Devlin. We'll move him with Vaughn." There was no nonsense about checking with David first. A former agent would understand priorities.
"It's not just the doctor," Weiss put in. I promised to help you any way I could, Mike. Even if that means telling your mother we're CIA.
The two older men turned to look at him, light dawning.
"I apologize for being out of the loop on CIA protocol," Kendall said wryly. "Does she know?"
"Not from Michael," Weiss replied. Probably.
"Right. Of course not," Kendall muttered. "Go check on your friend, Agent Weiss. I'll think of something."
"I'll have David start planning the transfer," Jack said, pulling out his phone again.
"There's something you should know."
Sydney waited expectantly, body curled into one of Sloane's more comfortable chairs. She simply radiated hostility and anger, and Sark hardly dared to step into the room. He didn't regret his boyish risk, but he harbored no doubt that she would enjoy showing him otherwise. Repeatedly.
"Sark?" she snapped.
"Right," he pronounced. "It regards Mr. Vaughn. My contact inside the hospital has rather disconcerting news."
"Explain to me how this happened!" Weiss exploded, watching as Dr. Matthews meticulously cleaned and bandaged the slight wound on his sleeping best friend's neck. The syringe Sloane had used had been so large that the skin around the needle on Vaughn's throat had ripped on impact.
"I'm sure your friends and mine are working on that," David assured him, dialing down the IV dosage. Vaughn hardly needed any further sedation. "Agent Vaughn will probably sleep for the rest of today, and most of tomorrow. On the bright side, he'll have made up a considerable amount of sleep he's lost since coming here. Heck, even Ms. Reed was happy about that."
Weiss couldn't fight a smile, knowing the doctor was trying to cheer him up. But it faded quickly. "He won't wake up here."
"I know," David sighed. "But if armed guards can't stop people from terrorizing my patient, moving him to inside the Taskforce is probably the only way he'll get some peace of mind."
"Aren't you coming?" Weiss asked, puzzled at the other man's seeming melancholy.
"Yeah," the doctor replied. "I haven't worn credentials in a long time, kid. It'll feel kinda strange to go back."
"But you got out of wearing a suit and tie," Weiss reminded him. "How'd you manage that?"
David chuckled, finishing his task and patting Vaughn lightly on the shoulder before turning and giving Eric his full attention. "True. I think I have Jack - Agent Bristow, sorry - to thank for that."
Lucky bastard, Weiss decided, absently fixing his tie.
David smirked, guessing his thoughts. "Oh," he said suddenly. "I was wondering, kid. It probably isn't too good for Agent Vaughn to be separated from his anchor - his mother - at this point… you know about what's going on, right?"
Weiss nodded, gratified by the man's mutual concern. "I do, sir. Actually, I think Kendall is working on that. Amélie probably knows more than we all give her credit for anyway."
"Wouldn't surprise me," David acknowledged. He crossed the room, rubbing the edge of his stethoscope against his white overcoat before leaning over Aaron. "Good," he said to himself.
"He'll be all right?" Weiss asked, somewhat guiltily. His concern for his friend had caused him to almost forget the boy!
Taking care to move slowly and quietly, Elsa and Neil maneuvered around the four terse FBI agents flanking either side of the doorway on either side of the room. Every step seemed to echo like shots fired. Not that waking either patient was a concern for anyone at the moment, of course.
"He'll be fine," David assured the room in general, gathering up his supplies and glancing meaningfully at Weiss. "He just needs to wake up."
With one final gaze that clearly told them he was genuine, the doctor left. Weiss followed, realizing the much beleaguered family needed some time alone. The parents wasted no time hurrying to Aaron's side.
Their son lay on a hastily made-up cot on Michael's left. A discarded oxygen mask sat off to the side; David clearly determining he was fine without it. His dark curls and almost black eyelashes stood out with frightening clarity against skin that was much too pale, and his right hand was curled into a fist.
"Out of everything in the world," Neil said wryly. "A bug bite."
"A big one," Elsa defended, kissing their son's tiny, bandaged left hand.
"My mistake," he replied. He leaned over, smoothing Aaron's hair. "He looks like you today," he murmured.
She glowed, the words bringing back memories of simpler times. Times when her little boy really had been little, and she could pick him up and hold him without his energetic protests. "No," she said, echoing a memory. "No, he's always looked like you."
"Is this seat taken?"
Amélie looked up in midbite, spoon hovering in the air, already exhausted and certainly not in the mood for idle chat with the husband of her husband's killer and his friend. "Well, actually - "
"Good," the other man interrupted, bald head reflecting the stark hospital lighting. The two men sank into chairs facing her. "Ms. Delorme," Kendall began, lowering his voice and carefully enunciating each startling word, "I'm FBI Deputy Director Kendall. You've already met CIA Agent Jack Bristow. We need to talk to you about your son."
Her spoon fell back on the table with a clang as she shot to her feet. "Has something further happened to him? They're transferring him to a more private hospital in about an hour…"
Puzzled at her lack of reaction to another part of his sentence, Kendall glanced first at her, then at Jack. "He's uh, fine, Ms. Delorme. In a manner of speaking. Did you hear me? I'm FBI - "
"Agent, Director, whoever you are and whatever I'm supposed to call you, my name is Amélie Vaughn. I was married to a spy," Amélie snapped, barely remembering to keep her voice soft. "And since I knew what to look for, I've known Michel's secret since his recruitment. Is that what you're here to say?"
The two men exchanged glances.
"Well, that makes our conversation easier," Kendall mused, somewhat awkwardly. "Uh, yeah."
"Vaughn is being transferred to the medical facility inside the Joint Intelligence Taskforce Center a few blocks away," Jack broke in, not surprised in the least at her knowledge. "The man that attacked him is being pursued, but we feel that moving him is the best way to ensure both his safety and eventual recovery."
"Joint Intell - " Amélie started to repeat, confused.
"Understand, Ms. Del- ah, Mrs. Vaughn - that there are things we cannot tell you," Kendall interjected, wresting control of the conversation once more. "But Dr. Matthews and Agent Weiss have kept me informed as to your son's condition, and we all agree that the fastest way for him to return to the field is for you to remain at his side for right now."
He reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat, pulling out a small interoffice envelope. "Your credentials," he said, handing it over to her. "Put that on while in the ambulance, please."
She nodded wordlessly, tucking the tan envelope away in her purse.
"Excellent," Kendall applauded, rising. "Don't worry, Madame. We will arrange for decoys, and flank all of them with the most qualified police escorts. He'll be well-guarded during both transit and in the Rotunda. No one will get near him again."
"Good," she answered. "It's about time you realized that he needs constant, seasoned protection right now."
Jack inclined his head. Quite a woman she was. "Someone will be riding with you to fill you in on certain aspects," he informed her. "She - " he paused, looking up. Late. " - Ms. Reed."
"Agent Bristow, Director Kendall," she greeted.
Still somewhat overloaded by what she was finally being allowed to see, Amélie took her time to look up.
"I'm NSC Agent Lauren Reed," a young British woman introduced herself. "I was with Agent Vaughn in Spain and have been cleared to answer certain questions you may have on his condition."
"Amélie Vaughn," she smiled. Finally, someone that will answer me! "Nice to meet you, but we've sort of met before, yes? Dr. Matthews and Michel both mentioned your insuring that he always has water at his bedside, for example."
"Indeed," she admitted, shaking her hand. "Habit now, I suppose. I must tell you, ma'am, I was very impressed with Agent Vaughn. His abilities, strength and devotion make him quite a marvel."
Amélie crossed her arms over her chest, smirking to herself. "And he's quite a fit bloke."
Lauren flushed. "Well admittingly yes, though his obvious love for Agent Bristow makes him a bit out of touch for any fancy I might have otherwise had for him. She's a very lucky woman I daresay, but quite deserving in her own right."
"So I hear," Amélie drawled. "I eagerly await finally meeting this Sydney."
The two women shared a smile, forgetting entirely about their audience. The men hesitated uncharacteristically, ill-used to being ignored in such a manner.
"We'll see you in Medical Services," Jack said at last, rising as well and following Kendall out of the commons. "I'll join you later," he added to Kendall once they were out of sight of the two women. "I have a discussion with two guards first."
"A discussion," the other man repeated, lips pursed.
"It might be a long one," Jack replied, deadpan.
The Director nodded, inwardly sympathizing with the two idiots. "I'll see you there then," he replied.
"Of course," Jack murmured, thoughts already turning darker.
My tremendous apologies to all my dear readers! The past two months have been incredibly hectic. But I'm back now, and I'll never disappear for this long again, okay? I swear. And thank you for your patience!
Up next: Who would you trust to give a correct diagnosis? Two doctors or the patient?
Review Responses
All right, I don't even know where to start, lol. So I just did everyone that reviewed the previous chapter. Without further ado…
1. Gosh, it's been so long since I replied to reviews, I'm not sure UndercoverElfHM will remember me! ;) Elsa snatched the guard's gun, firecracker that she is.
2. I'm sure Jack will make them feel more than stupid, chanel, since he assigned them and all. ;) Some things are better left to the imagination, I could never do that scene justice! lol
3. Hey there Andi! Sloane is evil??? :o
4. Well erm, "soon" is a figure of speech, neptunestar. :blush: Sorry! Won't do it again, I promise!
5. I loved every second of your review, Kylie! Thanks!
6. I'll miss you, MvsGirl! Stay safe!
7. First of all, Ginnie, coolest name ever! Your comments meant a lot. And well, my excuse is that Vaughn isn't doing much besides sleeping, otherwise I'd write Amélie watching him shoot a gun. Oh wait, that's later. Shh, don't tell anyone. ;)
8. "PTSD is a mental illness," she began, watching him. There was no visible reaction on his face. "There is no cure."
9. Dear Ilovemypenguin: You rock. No, seriously. You review like clockwork, and you always put a smile on my face! Thanks!
10. Oh, and dear sweet valley girl, you kick ass, quite simply. Review-zillas! Whoa! And I confess, I learned the word 'decorum' the same way. ;)
11. TwinkieChica, may I get you some pillows? A massager? Tea? Crumpets? Anyone that does a marathon reading of this huge thing is my hero. My apologies to your rear. ;)
12. A reunion, you say? Well, kittyfantastico, stay tuned. ;) Shhhh… (and THANK YOU for your always-there reviews, too! I can't wait to finish so I can check your fics out!)