K, new chapter. I originally intended it to be longer, but it seemed like a good place to stop. So following this one will be one more chapter and an epilogue.
Oh, and I know nothing about international law, so if you do, just pretend I got it right, k?
Ch 8
He stood apart from them, Kate and her sister, backing himself into the corners of the room, not wanting to intrude. Their arms were wrapped around each other tight, neither one willing to let go just yet. He couldn't see Kate's face. Her straightened hair fell over it, hiding the tears that her shuddering shoulders gave away.
Liz pulled away, presumably examining her sister for any signs of damage, or even just normal wear and tear. Kate wiped furiously at her cheeks and Liz smiled, smearing her own tears away.
"Awww, Katie –Bug." She said. Kate choked out a laugh and hugged her again.
And all the time, Jack stood watching. The lights in the gallery were severe, intensifying the harsh, white walls. The light threw bright shards across the room, slicing paintings and overdressed and overstuffed people and tables of uncorked wine bottles. Kate stood directly in the path of one of the arcs of light. It landed on her cheek, then her nose, then her hair as she held on to her sister. It was unbelievable how she could look so beautiful in the too bright, antiseptic light that only served to highlight other people's flaws.
He tried to tear his eyes from her, tried not to draw too much attention to her with his rapt expression. He couldn't look away. She glanced quickly at him and her sister's eyes followed. He starred back for a brief moment. It was uncanny how similar they looked. Liz had fewer freckles and her eyes were more blue than green, but they had identical button noses and wide, generous mouths. And with Kate's hair momentarily tamed and straight, they could pass for twins.
"Irish twins." Kate had called them a few weeks ago. That was when she had told him about 'the plan.' About how it had worked before.
It was too dangerous for them to meet in the States. Liz was pretty consistently tracked by US Marshals hoping Kate would try to make contact. But international law made that difficult outside of the country. Difficult but not impossible.
They still took every precaution possible. Liz always had legitimate reasons for traveling. Specific, checkable meetings with local galleries and museums, potential buyers and wealthy individuals looking to commission a painting.
And they always met very briefly, too briefly for either of their liking.
He though about the things that had changed in the past few weeks, and for a second he was back in Africa. After he had read the letter, Jack sat on the edge of the bed in their spare, dimly lit tent. She was sitting on her knees behind him, fidgeting nervously. Was the girl never still? When he handed the letter back to Kate, she took it quickly in her hands, she was trembling slightly, as though not having it had been killing her. She took the pages out, glanced at them briefly, and reinserted them, waiting for his reaction. He still sat silent, wringing his hands, fighting off the urge to yell at her just how absurd it all was. How easily she could be seen. How it was far too dangerous to even attempt.
She hadn't met his eyes, but she didn't need to. He knew how much this meeting must mean to her. How much she needed to have contact with someone from back there. Someone who knew everything, had seen everything, but still loved her anyway.
He watched her fingers glide over the letters that formed her name and his together. And he knew he'd do whatever she wanted, damn the consequences.
But in this space, this clinical, stark, clean space, Africa seemed a world away and a lifetime ago. He finally looked away from Kate and Liz and tied to focus on one of the paintings. Solid black frame, bright splashes of orange and red, too much red. Wasn't really his taste anyway. His eyes landed on a well dressed man with a glass of red wine carelessly tilted in one hand. He was watching Kate and Liz too. How long had he been there?
Fear crept in, threatening to stop his heart entirely. He glanced back at Kate, she hadn't noticed him yet. Then he glanced back at the man, he was now staring directly at him. Jack carefully, deliberately set his own glass down on the small table next to him. Then quickly began to close the distance between Kate and himself.
The crowd at the opening was growing, he had to push through small groups and couples, mainly all pseudo-intellectuals trying to look thoughtful and important while examining the obscure artist's work. Though his strides were long and fast, he didn't seem to be gaining any ground, he felt as though he were moving through water. The blind sort of panic that he had just begun to feel was threatening to take over and the rushing in his ears grew louder.
Kate looked at him, confused by the concern that must have been evident in his expression. Her eyes widened and, almost in slow motion, she flipped her head to look at what had caused Jack's panic. When she turned again to face him, she had a slight smile.
The smile grew and she began to laugh. Jack stopped walking and tried to calm his pounding heart and erratic breath. What the hell was going on?
And then it hit him, he was so Goddamn stupid.
He put his hand over his eyes and looked away from her, a sheepish smile appearing against his will.
She held out her hand to him, beckoning him to her side. The other gentleman approached as well.
When he got close to her, she took his hand and shook her head slightly. "Jack," She said, the smile never fading, "I'd like you to meet Lizzie's husband, Patrick."
Patrick held out his hand and Jack shook it firmly. "Hey Man." He said apologetically. Jack nodded and grinned back. "Good to meet you."
"And my sister," she said it nervously, why he'd never know, he adored her already.
The four of them stood awkwardly for a moment before Liz interjected and suggested they move to a quieter corner of the gallery. Jack and Kate followed Liz and Patrick to a nearly invisible opening at the right rear of the large room. As they passed the wine and cheese table, Patrick leaned over and stealthily swiped a bottle of champagne. Liz and Kate laughed at the same time, the same high pitched giggle. It was slightly unnerving. Liz looked around covertly and grabbed a massive plate of sliced fruit and incredibly expensive cheese. She tried, rather unsuccessfully, to hide it behind her back.
Kate laughed again and shoved her slightly in the shoulder. "Aren't you, you know, running the opening?"
"Shhh!" Liz whispered looking straight forward, eyes scanning the crowd comically. "All the more reason to be stealth."
Her happiness was beautiful, but all too fleeting, and as their time to leave grew nearer and nearer, their small party grew quiet. They spoke in hushed whispers in their tiny alcove of a corner, urging the seconds to slow, pace them selves and allow them just a bit more time. Patrick began to glance at his watch as the hour grew late and the guests slowly filtered out of the gallery. A dark sort of sadness entered Kate's eyes. Jack hadn't seen that look for a long, long time, not even during their recent arguments. It was the sort of heavy hearted look that didn't disappear for days, but clung to her like head cold you just can't shake.
Jack leaned out of the alcove and scanned the diminishing crowd, there were only stragglers left now. People who had coupled off were flirting and leaning against walls between the garish paintings, teetering on the edge between tipsy and drunk. Some younger kids, early twenties maybe, were dressed nice, but not in the finery of the wealthy, older patrons. They were lingering at the food, pocketing napkins that held crackers and cheese for later. Nothing like free food to draw visitors to an art gallery. One of the neatly pressed waiters was just beginning to lock the door when two men forcefully pushed their way in. In the vast empty space, there words echoed and reverberated loudly all the way back to where the four of them sat.
"I apologize Sir, the gallery is closed for the evening."
Jack saw a glimmer as one of the men hold something out to the waiter. He couldn't see clearly across the long room, but he instinctively knew what it was and reached for Kate's arm.
"We have to leave. Now." He said to her.
Even as he said it, he heard the Marshall's words over his own, loud and clear despite the distance. "We're looking for a Katherine Austen. We have reason to believe she may be in the area."
Then another voice, gruffer than the first "Have you seen her?" Jack could almost picture the guy holding out her mug shot.
Kate stiffened for a half second, then looked at her sister. "Back way out?" She said, her voice clear and fearless.
"Kitchen." Liz whispered, pointing to a small hallway just to the left. They would half to walk across the back wall to get to it. Jack risked another peek around the door frame. The two marshals were now interrogating a couple closest to the exit. Their backs were turned, but only just. They would have to go now, and they would have to go quick.
Kate stared at her sister for the briefest of moments. "I love you." She said, she didn't seem quite so fearless saying goodbye. Liz said nothing, just squeezed her hand and looked after her with bright eyes. Jack pulled on her arm. As much as he wanted her to have that moment, he wanted them to be out of there more desperately. One quick glance back at the marshals, and they hurried quickly along the back wall.
They didn't make it more than a few steps when they heard a Marshal shout "Hey!"
Glancing back, Jack saw both marshals reach towards their sidearms. Then everything happened so quickly that later he wasn't quite sure of the exact sequence of events. Kate's eyes moved quickly around the room, frantically searching for a way out. Liz began to walk forward, positioning herself between the Marshall and Jack and Kate. She looked at Kate, who shook her head furiously back and forth. "No." she said firmly. "Uhuh, no."
Liz mouthed "Go." And Jack pushed her forward towards the Kitchen. Kate fought against him, resisting and trying in vain to release herself from him.
They heard the Marshall yell "Stop!"
But then, just as they were turning into the small hallway Liz shouted. "You lookin for me?" her voice rang out, clear and fearless as Kate's had been minutes before.
It was the last thing they heard, Jack slammed the door shut and wedged a large cart of bread in front of it. Then he pulled Kate through the kitchen and out the door onto the street.