chapter five: good idea, bad idea

Frankie entered the interrogation room a second time, determined not to let Fasil get under her skin again. As before, he was already seated. Frankie remained standing.

"I've been thinking about what you said earlier. About me being chosen. I don't think I was a necessary part of Black Sun's plan. Am I right?"

Fasil said nothing.

"I'm going to tell you what I think happened." She smiled. "Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. Black Sun ordered the bombing of Bethesda. They've never been picky about how their attacks are carried out, as long as the damage is done."

She paused, carefully studying Fasil's body language. So far, he was giving nothing away.

"The victims – Black Sun doesn't care who they are. They're just bodies."

Now Frankie sat, folding her hands in front of her. "I know I've never done anything to you personally or to your family. But taking me was personal. Keeping me in that cellar, starving me, beating me – those were personal."

She lowered her voice, choosing her words with care. "I know you're not as holy as you pretend to be. I saw how you looked at me. If this was all about pleasing Allah, you wouldn't need the money. But then I guess everyone has their price. Even you."

Fasil met her eyes. "You know some things, but not everything. Not what you need to know."

"Are you going to tell me?"

He shook his head.

Frankie stood. "Guard? I'm done here. You can take this prisoner away. Give him the usual five star treatment." In Gitmo, five star meant sleep deprivation, constant noise, food the prisoner couldn't eat, temperature control, manipulating the prisoner's perception and solitary confinement.

Frankie turned her back on Fasil, something she knew better than to do, but she was eager to leave the room. He attacked her, pushing her against the wall. The guard reacted quickly, pulling him off her and throwing him to the floor. Frankie slipped out; she had to get away.

Somehow, she found herself in the staff lounge. She poured coffee into a mug, adding extra sugar in the hope that it would calm her shaken nerves. Then she sat on one of the stools, her hands closed around the mug, rocking back and forth. And again she thought, this was a bad idea.

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Angel could hardly ignore a summons from the White House Chief of Staff. After signing in at security, she made her way through the West Wing to Leo McGarry's office. A male voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Angel O'Reilly?"

She turned, smiling. "Joshua Lyman!"

Josh pulled her into a hug then stepped back to look at her. "What are you doing here? Aren't you a big bad marine now, fighting to save the world?"

"I had a slight career change. I'm with Homeland Security now." That was technically the truth, she thought. Josh didn't have to know it was temporary. He tilted his head and she knew he'd guessed she was hiding something. That was the problem with knowing him all her life. Angel walked alongside him for a while until they came to his office.

"What's with the crutch?"

"Uh, a car accident. It's a long story." To change the subject, she said, "How's your mom doing these days?"

"She's good. Hey, you remember Donna, don't you?"

Angel smiled at Josh's assistant. Noticing the way the woman was studying her, she bit back a laugh. What was it with blondes and not liking her? Not that Donna had anything to worry about. Josh had always been like a dorky older brother. She'd grown up calling his parents "Uncle" and "Aunt".

"Hey, Donna. Josh, I'll catch up with you later, okay? I've got a meeting with Leo."

"Since when do you have meetings with the Chief of Staff?"

Angel gave an innocent smile. "He's my godfather, Josh. I was in Washington, I thought I'd pop around and say hi." She waved and carried on walking, leaving Josh staring after her.

McGarry's secretary, Margaret, sent her straight in. "Hello, Angel.'

"Hi."

"I'm sorry to pull you away from the Vault today, but it was the only opening he had."

"Who?"

McGarry gestured for her to go through a door. A little nervous – she had a fairly good idea where the door led – Angel went inside.

"Mr. President. May I introduce Lieutenant Colonel Angeline O'Reilly."

Angel shook President Bartlet's hand. "Hello, sir."

The three of them sat on the couches. Angel's eyes darted around the room, taking in all the details. She'd never thought she'd ever be in the Oval Office.

"Leo says you've made some progress," Bartlet said.

Angel nodded and took a deep breath before speaking. "All the information I've found suggests John Kilmer has been communicating with Black Sun for the last six months and that he paid Sadiq Fasil to kill his wife. Ex-wife. I can't say I understand the dynamics of their relationship."

Bartlet turned to McGarry. "How is it that we put a traitor in charge of Homeland Security?"

"Actually, sir, I don't think he is a traitor." When it was clear that the men expected an explanation, Angel pressed on. "I just think it's very convenient – too convenient – that all the evidence points so neatly to him. And if you saw him and Frankie together, you'd know he isn't capable of hurting her."

"So, what's your theory?" McGarry asked.

Grateful that the men were willing to listen to her, she began to relax. "I have two, but not a whole of physical proof for either."

Bartlet nodded for her to continue.

"First scenario is that someone's trying to disrupt Homeland Security operations. Setting Kilmer up is obviously going to cause a lot of internal chaos and the team's going to be worried and distracted and not focused on doing their jobs properly."

"And scenario two?"

"It's personal. Someone has a grudge against Kilmer and they'll do whatever it takes to destroy him."

Bartlet looked doubtful. "That's a bit of a stretch."

"Not exactly. I put together a list of names of people who may have a reason to hate him. It's a pretty long list."

"Angel, we need to get moving on this," McGarry said. "Give us something concrete."

"I'm fairly certain it's someone who knows Kilmer, maybe even works with him." She studied each of the men in turn then gave a hesitant smile. "But I have an idea."

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Jelani stared at the computer screen. Then, breaking into a smile, he swiveled in his chair. "I got a hit on Nathalie. A CIA agent in Marseilles has seen her a couple of times."

Mo and Tim exchanged a glance. "You ready to go back to Europe?" Mo asked.

Tim crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at Mo, hitting him square in the chest. "You know, chasing Nathalie around the world has put a serious dent in my love life."

It's not the whole world, Holly signed. Just Europe.

Tyler laughed. "We can swap jobs if you like."

"Not a chance." Tim stood. "Guess I'd better go pack."

"Maybe this time we'll actually catch her." Mo slapped Tim's shoulder. "Meet you at Andrews in an hour?"

Tim nodded and followed Mo out.

"Don't you two get tired of sitting in here all day?" Tyler asked. "Don't you ever wish you were out in the field?"

Jelani and Holly looked at each other. Holly shrugged. Jelani swiveled back to the computer. "Nah. They'd be pretty useless out there if we weren't in here."

Yeah, this is where the action is.

"And there's less chance of getting shot to pieces from here."

You're just a big baby.

"Well, I know how heartbroken you'd be if something happened to me."

Holly rolled her eyes. In your dreams.

"Yours, maybe."

Whatever.

"Hey, Tyler, help me out here, man."

Tyler was used to his colleagues' banter and knew they could go on for hours. He stood and looked around for Angel; maybe he could give her a hard time for stealing his crackers again. Before he walked off, he turned his head so Holly wouldn't be able to read his lips.

"Just ask her out already."