Author's note: Again, thank you for the review, guys.
Some things to know about this chapter:
1) It will still be confusing.
2) No S/V. I've again pushed them back.
3) This is slightly AU, and people - e.g. Nadia - will not appear in their "normal" place.
4) Confusion will lessen by the next chapter.
Chapter 3
Time: Twenty minutes after Brian's phone call.
Location: CIA branch headquarters in Los Angeles, CA.
"What do you mean it wasn't a bombing?" Eric sits up in his chair.
David Lansing sighs. "That's not what I said.
In the past twenty minutes or so, Eric's life has been thrown decidedly off-kilter.
After Brian had frantically relayed some scant details about the bombing of the embassy in Moscow, Eric had scurried around, hastily throwing on clothes on before rushing to his car.
Normally something of a fastidious driver, (Eric had recently purchased a BMW and rather valued the pristine condition that "Betty" was currently in), Eric had hurried through empty Los Angeles streets at break-neck speeds, praying that he would not run into a cop.
After all, it was the end of the month, and he knew that there were still hungry cops out there with quotas to will.
As he had driven, one bleak scenario after another had flashed through Eric's mind. Though he wasn't personally acquainted with anyone who worked at the Moscow embassy, he knew that a tragedy of these proportions could wreak havoc on the government and its security agencies.
First, there would be the question of the injured.
For the past two weeks or so, Moscow's embassy had been playing house to some of the top government officials in the United States. Members of Congress and the Senate had gone for a diplomatic good-will tour of Russia sometime back, and had been finishing up their tour with an extended stay in Moscow.
If the destruction caused by the bomb was indeed as serious as Brian had claimed, there could be some potentially serious consequences on the ability of the senate and congress to function at a normal capacity. Members of both houses would be trickling in and out of the hospital, and this would probably limit the amount of work that could be done.
And if the injuries were fatal…
Eric had shaken his head and tried to ignore that thought. Though he had seen more then his fair share of death and destruction in his time at the agency, he still tried to avoid the subject whenever possible.
It wasn't that he was cold or callous; it was just that life-endangering harm occurred at such a consistent level in his work, Eric had to have a rather detached attitude towards the pain and the destruction, otherwise it would consume him.
These grim thoughts had continued to trickle through Eric's head as he had continued to drive.
Finally, upon reaching the office, Eric had parked and all but rushed past security and ran – yes, ran – up four flights of stares to his office. He was just far too antsy to wait the minute or so for the rickety elevator that never seemed to work.
However, upon arriving at his office, Eric had all but had the shock of his life.
Initially, Eric had imagined that agents would be rushing around the building, trying to evaluate the situation in Moscow. The building was sure to be a hubbub of activity, given the state of affairs between the US and Russia at present.
However, as he had forcefully stomped through the glass doors marking the entrance to his floor, Eric had been shocked to see that none of his fellow agents looked particularly busy, as they had all turned to look and nod at him.
Instead, most of them were sitting quietly in their cubicles, processing various bits of information that were streaming through to them through computers, phones and televisions alike.
One agent – Matthew Scott – had even smiled confusedly at Eric and asked just what he was doing there.
"I was called in about the bomb." Eric had replied, feeling almost ready to burst under the strain of imagined scenarios he had just put himself through.
Matthew had frowned. "What bomb?"
"The bomb in Moscow?" Eric's voice had been forcefully calm. Just what was going on?
Shaking his head, Matthew had raised his eyebrows at another agent, before leaning over his cubicle to pat Eric on the shoulder. "Dude, I think you need to relax."
Though Eric's immediate reaction had been to angrily brush Matthew's hand off, he had remained calm enough to inquire after the location of David Lansing.
A rather unfortunate looking man with a predilection for donuts and Britney Spears, David was always the go-to guy on the forth floor whenever the other more senior agents were out of the office. Once one of the top agents for the CIA, David had retired from active duty two years ago, claiming he rather liked "baby-sitting the office" a little more.
Though Weiss had never particularly enjoyed David's company, (David was just a little too smarmy for Eric – always reminding Weiss that whatever he managed to pull of in field work, David had probably done it first) desperate times called for desperate measures.
Not surprisingly, Eric had found David in his office, with a rather alarmingly box of donuts sitting next to him.
"Weiss?" David had greeted Eric.
Oh, that was another thing. David had the unfortunate ability to be one of those people who never ended their phrases properly. For him, everything came out as a question.
"I was called in by Brian McAvery." Eric had responded.
Though Eric had planned to immediately launch into a spiel about the bomb, he had suddenly remembered why Brian had initially called him.
"I was told that there was a situation in Germany," Eric grumbled, when David had waved him into a chair. For some strange reason or other, the lights in David's office had been flickering on and off with rather insistently. It was headache inducing.
David nodded. "Yes. I'm glad you came in so quickly, because we need to start working on finding out what's going on? I hate to say it, but I think this is one of those times that we're going to be forced to stumble around in the dark for awhile, hoping to strike on the right thing?"
'Did that even make sense?' Eric wondered for a second, before getting back on point. "I was also told that there was a breaking situation in Moscow."
Surprisingly, David had suddenly started. However, just as quickly, the rotund man's features had suddenly relaxed. "Ah?"
Even that sounded like a question.
"Yes." Eric had replied firmly. "Now, what is going on? Brian told me that the American embassy in Moscow had been struck by a bomb. However, when I came in, no one seemed to know anything about that."
David had been silent for a minute. Finally, he had leaned forward in his chair. "Weiss, I'm going to tell you something, but this is under the strictest of confidence." Without waiting for a sign of acknowledgment from Eric, David had continued. "The bombing in Moscow was not a bombing."
Naturally, Eric had all but freaked.
"What do you mean it didn't happen?" Eric asks again, before rubbing his forehead furiously with his right hand.
For the past ten minutes or so, Eric has all but asked the same question again and again.
David shakes his head. "That's not what I said, Weiss."
"Sure you did." Eric counters, with a rather imperious expression on his face. "You just sat there and told me that the American Embassy in Moscow wasn't bombed."
"Again, I repeat myself." David huffs, as he turns his back on Eric and directs his attention back to his flashing computer screen. "That's not what I said."
"Sure." Eric retorts. "Except for the part where you totally did."
"Okay, look." David takes a moment to wrinkle his nose at his monitor – it's obvious he's just garnered some news he would've rather avoided- and turns back to Weiss. "I understand that you're tired, and that you're annoyed, but please." David holds up both hands in mock surrender and tries to feign a friendly smile. "Let's try and get along so we can figure this out, okay?"
Eric nods.
"Good." David smiles belittlingly. "Now, what I said, was that the bombing wasn't a bombing."
"Okay."
"Instead, it was a break-in." David continues on slowly, making sure Eric is getting every word.
Though he knows that David is trying to make things understandable for his own benefit, Eric still can't help but be annoyed as David explains things. The whole situation is so confusing and so perplexing, it's almost bordering on comical.
"We believe that a Russian terrorist organization broke into the embassy, to steal files. They orchestrated a fake bomb to cover the situation up."
Eric rubs his chin thoughtfully. He still has no idea what's going on, but he'll play along. "Okay, two questions. First, do we know which Russian terrorist organization it was? And second, how exactly does one orchestrate a bombing?"
David sighs again, before pulling his glasses off. Without the spectacles perched on his nose, David's eyes are looking slightly less bulbous. "Look, Weiss – before I continue, I have to let you know, this is rather classified information. The only reason I'm letting you in on this, is because this is connected to the Berlin phone call. And we're going to need your help on the case. "
"Then why did Brian McAvery known about it?" Eric counters promptly.
"Mr. McAvery just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." David answers. "This is a complicated situation, and it's going to take sometime for me to explain."
"Well, as I'm already up…"
"Fine." David shakes his head, as if realizing he is doing this against his better judgment. "What I'm about to tell you is in the strictest of confidence. You're to uphold the secrecy of this under any and all circumstances."
"Fine." Though David's words sound rather ominous, they're actually fairly routine for Weiss. Senior-level CIA officers are routinely asked to "uphold secrecy" for specific agendas.
David takes a deep breath."In the past two months or so, the US government has been led to believe that previously assumed dead Irina Dereveko, is still alive. We believe that she is responsible for the kidnapping and deaths of several dozens of people around Europe."
Eric's exclamation is uneloquent and heard halfway across the room. "Wait, what?"
