Lyrics in this chapter are taken from 'Angel' by Sarah McLachlan.

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Chapter Six

"Do whatever you have to maintain your cover."

Did Michelle know what she was asking her to do?

She fought to stop herself falling, walking falteringly down the street. In the back of her head, in the dark pit of her soul, she could still hear the shouts of the protesters, could still see the tears, winding their way down frightened, pale faces.

Ashley pressed her hands against her ears and picked up her pace, stumbling blindly away. Trying to get away from the images of what she had done, trying to blank out the images of what she had said, so many horrible things…

Thoughts of Jackson Alexander rose in her head. His deep dark eyes piercing her, penetrating her, down to her soul. Seeing the lies she had told, the sins she had committed, all of them in the name of her job and country. Denouncing her to the congregation as a sinner and a whore. And they turned away from her, all of them, everyone she had ever known, leaving her lost and alone.

She didn't think she could stand if they left her alone again. She didn't want to be alone.

They didn't know what they were asking her to do!

She walked on, strength bleeding from her legs with every step that she took. Forcing herself to stay upright. Forcing herself to take step after step. How could she do this? How could she go on, keep doing this? She wanted out.

They didn't know what they were asking her to do!

Her strength giving out, Ashley stumbled, sitting down before it disappeared completely. She sat down on the cool steps, closing her eyes, leaning her head back against the smooth wall. She just wanted a moment to herself, a moment to think, a moment to….

"Are you alright my child?" The man had a soft, Irish accent.

Ashley opened her eyes, peering through the slits. A priest stood in front of her, his thinning brown hair swept across his head by the gentle breeze. She scrambled quickly to her feet. "No Father. I mean, yes Father. I just wanted to sit down for a moment."

He stared at her, his eyes kindly but intent.

She did her best to smile, but it gradually faded under his scrutiny. She looked down at her feet. "I just needed some time to think, to work out what I'm going to do."

"There are better seats inside, my dear." He reached out and took her arm, leading her towards the door of the chapel. She resisted at first, then yielded, allowing him to lead her. "And maybe, you'll find your answers inside as well."

She followed him across the threshold, closing her eyes. Feeling peace, forgiveness, understanding wash across her.

xxxXXXxxx

This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

In the arms of an angel

Fly away from here

From this dark cold hotel room

And the endlessness that you fear

You are pulled from the wreckage

Of your silent reverie

You're in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort there

"That's such a beautiful song. I don't mind telling you, it sends shivers down my spine every time I hear it. It's 1212, here on CSRFM. I hope you're all having a good afternoon so far, and I'll be right back with more music, just after these messages."

xxxXXXxxx

Adam ran up the stairs to her office. "Michelle. We got a possible flag on the hit man." He slid the folder across the desk to her. "This guy."

She opened the folder, paging through the photographs. "Put an alert out at LAX and at the train stations. Tell them to treat the suspect as armed and extremely dangerous. They are to notify us as soon as they spot him and they are NOT to approach him."

"Okay."

Michelle hesitated, looking at his record, at the killings it was believed he had carried out. "This guy is a pro." She closed the file and pushed back to him. "Tell Tony about this and ask him to notify Tom and Nathan."

"Okay." Adam lifted the file and walked to the door of her office. He hesitated at the door, looking back at her.

"Something wrong Adam?"

"No, Michelle."

"We all have plenty of work to do. Let me know if we get any hits back from LAX or the trains."

Adam nodded and walked down the stairs and across to Tony's workstation. She couldn't help noticing, out of the corner of her eye, that Tony glanced up at her office as they talked, looking worried.

She bit her lip, forcing herself to keep working, not to look at him, to keep busy.

She didn't think about it if she was busy.

xxxXXXxxx

"Ladies and Gentlemen." The speaker paused, allowing the tension to grow, the atmosphere to build up just a little further. "Please allow me to introduce…Amy Gardner!"

Applause burst across the room as she walked onto the stage. She raised her hand to wave to the crowd, smiling at them over the top of the podium. Every inch the politician, she looked educated, sophisticated, poised. Controlled. Beautiful.

Only Tom, watching her closely from the back of the stage, could see how white her knuckles were as they gripped the side of the podium. He spoke quietly into the microphone. "Any sign of him down there?"

There was a momentary hesitation before Nathan responded, his voice swamped by the noise of the crowd. "Its all quiet down here. What about you guys?"

One by one their replies came back.

"Nothing."

"Nobody."

"That's if this guy is even in LA."

"Stay alert." Tom touched the receiver in his ear again, grinding his teeth in frustration at Peterson's attitude. Staring at the front of the crowd, caught and held by Amy's mere presence. "This guy's fucking good. If he is here, we wont get a second chance to stop him."

He watched her as she spoke, warming to her topic. Tom realised that not all of her tight grip on the podium was inspired by fear.

She was angry.

Angry at CTU, at the people who had made the threat against her, at Rights of the Child for what they were doing at Lester's Clinic, angry at them for every doctor they had killed, every clinic they had attacked, every girl they had intimidated.

The audience caught, fired up inspired by her passion.

Tom felt his own passion, his own anger fired by her words.

He wanted to get these bastards.

xxxXXXxxx

"CTU, O'Brien."

"Chloe, its Tony. I need you to start going through the plane and train manifests. I'm sending a photo to your station, we need to know if…"

"Cant Adam do it? I'm up to my eyes at the minute and I need to keep a channel open in case Ashley makes contact again and…"

"No he can't. He's already working on something for me. Just do it okay."

"Okay, Tony. Jeez, there's no need to bite my head off."

"Chloe…" He broke off, shaking his head. "Don't argue with me about it, just fucking do it. Send the results to my station." He hung up, looking up at Michelle's office again. He stared at her for a second, watching as she reached for the phone, watching frustration and tension spill across her face. Watching as she bit her lip so hard he was scared she'd draw blood.

What the hell was wrong with her?

xxxXXXxxx

Amy stepped back from the podium, raising her hands to the audience as they cheered her. She smiled broadly, her first genuine smile since Tom and Nathan had arrived at her campaign headquarters.

That had felt good.

She sensed Tom next to her, his hand on her elbow, trying to lead her towards the car, Peterson already walking towards the door, taking careful looks around him. She could see Nathan and her other guards coming towards her.

She couldn't resist, slipping away from Tom, rushing to the front of the stage to wave to the crowd, basking in their adulation.

She was still smiling as a glowering Tom Baker took her arm, leading her after Peterson towards the car, twisting in his grasp to wave one more time at the crowd, to smile at them one last time.

Perhaps she could live through this day.

xxxXXXxxx

Ashley bowed her head in prayer one last time, closing her eyes as the priest moved his hand in the air over her, muttering the prayer in Latin. Then she stood, walking out of the chapel, suppressing the doubts and guilt that had followed her in.

She could do this.

She walked out of the chapel, blinking in the sudden bright light, almost smiling in the sunshine. She walked away and didn't look back, walking quickly towards where the blessing would be held.

The Reverend Jackson Alexander was expecting her.

She could do this.

xxxXXXxxx

He watched as they hustled her out of the building and into the waiting car. Carefully guarding their backs and flanks, checking their angles of approach.

These guys were good.

He kept watching as the car pulled smoothly away from the curb. Then he rose into a crouch, keeping low against the early afternoon sun, tucking his binoculars back inside his suit pocket.

Complications were one thing, but this….

….this was a challenge.

He loved a challenge.