Far away….
The morning light glimmered through the misty fog as it spilled out on the blue rolling waves that collapsed on the Pacific shore.
The man sat down on the couch facing the living room window. He let his walking cane fall to the bare hardwood floor. He no longer felt he needed it and kicked it underneath the couch.
Outside the sky was starting to clear. A cool breeze hugged the shore.
He was barefoot dressed only in his pajamas bottoms and a robe. He could feel the cold air drifting in through the open screen door and windows of his modest 3 bedroom beach house. He could smell the slightly sweet burnt odor coming from the fireplace at the far end of the room. It still smoldered from the previous night's fire. It was nice to be home. He was glad to be home amongst all his own things and his own thoughts.
Turning sideways on the couch he swung both his legs on top of the cushions and stretched them out before him. He leaned back into the cushions and closed his eyes. He tried to take in a slow deep breath but instead broke out into a coarse raspy cough. This painful cough was still not as severe as it had been previous weeks. He figured the antibiotic he was taking for his bout with pneumonia was finally doing its job.
Once again he closed his eyes and this time let his breathing slow to short shallow breaths. He heard absolutely nothing around him except the gentle roar of the waves outside on the beach and the sweet sound of the wind whispering through the window screens.
With his eyes still closed he took in the sensation of the cold air running along his face and down across his bare feet. How peaceful, he thought to himself, calm and peaceful. Here he sat for a few more minutes in this quiet sanctuary of time, not moving, not thinking, trying to block out any thoughts of the past.
And then he let go of this moment and opened his eyes. He reached for the folder that had been at his side on the couch and he began to read through it. He was oblivious to everything around him. His focus was solely on the folder in his hands. He studied each page, each note, and map. He reviewed every photograph. And then he pulled out from the file one photo of a young woman. He held it up closer to his face. "Oh yes," he said out loud, his jaw tense with anger, his voice a low menacing growl, "I can't wait to be finished with you."
Just then the phone rang behind him from across the room. He tossed the photo back into the file and slowly stood up. Disregarding his cane he limped over to answer the phone. From a small desk he picked up the cordless device and carried it back to the couch where he stretched both legs out in front of him on the cushions again as he sat back down.
"Okay, clear, this line is secure, encryption on, so go ahead and tell me what have you got for me and this file? Give me the latest update." he asked the voice on the other end of the line. Obviously this was an expected call and a reply to an earlier request.
But there was an awkward pause and then hesitation in the voice that replied. "Sir, bad news, It's just posted that all Lighthouse 2 research and information has been compromised. The orders are that no further involvement or action be taken on anything that has in any way a connection to Lighthouse 2. Protocol level 3 must be followed."
"You're kidding me right?" The man asked as he slumped back into the corner of the couch in disbelief.
"No sir." the voice replied back. "It seems your project files have been purged and all previous work is now classified as invalid. That is the official stamp and seal, sir."
"I can't believe this. I've never heard of such a thing ever happening to a Lighthouse team. Did you just say that my assignment, my project has been erased?" The man was completely beside himself with frustration. He raised his hand over his furrowed brow and rubbed his closed eyes in dismay.
"My God," he continued as he tried to keep his temper and his voice down, "We lost, no I lost a very good man on this project and you're now telling me that it was all for nothing?" There was silence and still no answer on the other side of the line.
"Damn it," he continued now angered by the silence, "What about the principles, the targets? That stuff out there was real man. What about that?" He knew the caller would be reluctant to give out too much specific information but he needed to know as much as he could. The caller's silence was hitting him like a brick in the face.
"I mean my guy's gone, he's not ever coming back. I knew and worked with him for almost 10 years. He was extremely good at his job. He has a wife and kids that I still have yet to face. This new situation is totally fucked, it's inexcusable!" The man felt the tightness well up in his chest as he sprang up from the couch to his feet. His teeth were clenched as he, disregarding his injury, began to pace the room making each step a pounding statement of his anger.
"Now you tell me, what the hell happened over at Lighthouse 2? I don't give a fuck about the phone line. I want to know and I want to know now." The words were coming out in rapid succession as the man pounded his fist on the back of the couch while he continued to pace the floor behind it.
"We're looking at 4 months of research, warrants, and surveillance work done at a considerable cost to the government. All this has to be justified and accounted for. How the fuck could this mess happen? If there was a problem, a compromise why wasn't it caught earlier? We have failsafe do we not? Who or what is responsible? And why the hell was my file purged?"
"Ah sir," Finally the voice responded on the line, "There is a complication. There was an incident caused by the consolidation of departments due to shifts and cutbacks in funding, and Lighthouse 2 was merged back with its sister team Lighthouse 1. Some how an alert was given and assignment docs were placed under SOP review. Only then the discrepancies became apparent to Lighthouse 1 staff."
"Did you say discrepancies? Go on, continue." The man urged the caller.
"Sir, to put it simply, some one at Lighthouse 2 broke protocol and created gaps in reports so some one else could fill in the holes. It was a team infiltration in our Lighthouse 2 system. And it allowed for a lot of fabrication."
"Oh God," The man paused and looked at the phone in disbelief, "did I hear you right? Did you say fabrication?"
"Unfortunately yes that is what was found when it was noted that the codes used for confirmation and certification were wrong and out of sequence."
"How much of it was corrupted and invalid?"
"Sir they were able to isolate a time line of activity and make alist all the fabrications and your project was included on that list."
"You know what I'm going to ask next. What about that one family, are you saying they were actually innocent of all claims and charges of conspiracy with the target?"
"Yes sir. This is the official conclusion. They were innocent of all claims and charges except for that one big claim against her. She is guilty of that one. But no charges have been filed as of yet and now due to the present circumstances it's questionable. Please give my condolences to his family sir."
The man clenched his jaw once again. He gritted his teeth and felt the early sensation of a migraine pound at his temples. "So you're saying we terrorized and almost eliminated an innocent family which resulted in the death of one of our men and it was all caused by a fabrication of evidence?"
There was no response from the caller.
"And what of the 'Target' is his threat actually real?"
"Yes sir, he's real and on the move. He's got the top 'Chairs' by their balls. And they're out to get him before he becomes another international embarrassment. We know he got wind of the investigation, we know he is the source that fed misinformation to Lighthouse 2, and we know he still hopes to stall us so he could better negotiate an escape."
"And my cover? Can he identify me? Does he know I exist?"
"No sir, he does not know, and your cover is still intact. As standard procedure, we listed you and your associates with aliases as foreign born nationals. . And the extra precaution was taken to purge your file and project from all Lighthouse systems so you are still well tucked under the radar."
"Okay. I understand now. And the Russians what has been their take on this?"
"They're mad as hell and as impatient as ever, sir. They still want this target badly. They realize assassination might be too extreme now but they'll take him any way they can. The damage he might cause us is nothing compared to what he has already caused them."
"When did this Lighthouse 2 news break?"
"It happened about 48 hours ago."
"Is it contained? How messy is it?"
"Yes contained, all internal, marked classified on a short need to know only list. The 'Chairs' are very anxious to see us close in and silence this."
"I want to know more about these former Lighthouse 2 staffers. Are they under surveillance or reigned in and debriefed? Can you find out for me? Some one is doing jail time for this. Do you hear me? I'm going to push for it all the way up."
"The ball is already in motion sir. Michaels is acting point man and he is requesting your assistance. But he is aware of your health set backs and needs to know have you been cleared, what is your availability? He wants to make things right and complete the assignment. He wants you, sir, to finish the job."
"Great, tell him I'm ready, I'm fine, and send me a car."
"Yes sir, will do right away. I'll have a car there in one hour to take you to the airport. Michaels will be waiting and anxious to meet with you."
The caller relayed further flight arraignments to the man and then ended the call. The man now stood alone in the room feeling numbed by all the news and yet he was ready to get started. He threw the phone on to the couch in growing anger at the thought of all that had developed. His headache pounded louder and the pain in his chest made breathing difficult.
He picked up the file from the couch and walked over to the smoldering fireplace at the side of the room. As he leaned over and tossed all the documents and photos into the reignited flames he wondered if this chest pain was what a heart attack might feel like.
He blankly starred at the photo of the young women as it burned up in the flames along with the other papers. His emotions were now mixed. He didn't want any further memories of this girl flooding back into his mind and yet he was troubled by all that he had just learned. He knew she was still unfinished business.
And then he heard the screen door slam.
"John!" the woman's voice exclaimed, "What are you doing up out of bed?" She quickly filed into the house caring plastic grocery bags, "You know you're not quite your self yet. Both the doctor and I are in agreement on this. You need to slow down."
The man sheepishly grinned at her. He stood up and leaned away from the fireplace and turned to smile at her. "Oh good-morning Megan, while you two were out a courier came by and brought me some work to read. I'm finished with it and I'm just burning it now. That's all. I thought it would make for a better fire then for light reading. Where is the little squirt by the way?" He tried his best to chuckle and sound casual and to hide any hint of tension or pain in his voice. Megan was the one person he could never fool.
"I'm right here!" cheered the little boy. He came running in from the outside porch. "Look what I got from the store!" The 3-year old held up an open bottle of bubble soap and a small soapy plastic wand that began to drip soap suds on the floor.
John grinned at the sight of the little sparkly-eyed dynamo that stood before him. But the woman remained steadfast in her concern and growing anger at his disregard for her. She heard him all too clearly. She had learned to specially dread the word 'courier' for it was his code for another work assignment away from them.
"Hey! What did I say about those bubbles?" The woman yelled over her shoulder as she began to unpack the bags of food for storage in the fridge and cupboards. She knew the man was watching her. He was studying her reaction. She was suddenly tense her mouth dry. Not wanting to believe he was going back on his promise to her she looked over at him. "I picked up your prescription refill for those antibiotics. Make sure you take them as required, the last thing we need is you getting sick all over again and ending up back in that horrid hospital."
He glared at her and let out a sigh in annoyance and looked away.
She began placing cans of peas above her in the cupboard, but one can fell back out and hit the counter with a loud smacking sound. She angrily picked up the can and continued speaking, "And those sedatives, do you know they keep replenishing that prescription no questions asked? Do you still need them to sleep? And hey! Where are your slippers anyways?" She snapped at him angry that she sounded like his mother. She wanted to throw the can of peas at him but instead just placed it neatly on the shelf with the others.
He hated her intrusiveness about his health. "Really dear it's just an annoying little cough that keeps me awake at night. It's nothing serious now." John stretched his arms out to embrace the little boy but then watched him smile, wave good-bye, turn around, and run right back out to the porch.
"Do you need help with any of this?" He asked as he walked over to assist her in the kitchen. He began peeking into the bags.
She looked down at his leg noting he was no longer using his cane. "No, I'm alright. You, you just go sit out on the porch with your son for a few minutes until I can put all this away. And be sure to bundle up or at least stay in the sun. You look awfully pale."
"But Megan, we do need to talk." The man said as he headed for the porch. He hesitated at the screen door and looked out at the small child.
"Okay then be honest John when is the car coming for you this time?" Megan asked him as he stood at the door.
He hesitated and looked back at her. Her eyes were now both full of hurt and anger. And they burned into his. He knew she was always two steps ahead of him. He could never fool her.
"The flight leaves in 3 hours and the car will be here in one." He replied as he tried to soften his expression.
The woman grabbed some jars and quickly turned her back to him. "How can you do this after everything that's happened? What if that car had come for you before we got back home? Would you have left us?" She fought back tears. "After all he needs you." She pointed towards the porch and the boy playing outside.
"Meg, I need you. Turn around and look at me. Let's not fight. I would not have left like that." Realizing that he had to be honest with her he walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders. With just his touch he could feel her shoulders drop as she broke out in tears. She turned around and fell into his arms as he hugged her and tried to console her.
He understood her pain but he just didn't want to deal with it for it meant coming to grips with his own.
She felt the distance growing between them as he stood silent holding her in the kitchen. She regained her composure and looked up at him. "John, you know after Danielle's death, Karl and I thought…"
His expression of compassion vanished as his eyes became cold and resentful. "Meg it was a suicide. Just say it. Not just a death. There's a difference." He released his arms from her and walked back to the screen door. His emotions were a mix of anger and sorrow. He did not feel comfortable talking any further about the subject. But how could he make her stop.
"It's just that Karl and I thought you would let us adopt and raise Justin for you." She leaned up against the counter studying his reaction as he stood perfectly still looking out to the porch. And then he sighed and looked down at the floor.
He turned back to face her. But she was a painful sight to see. She looked like an older version of what Danielle could be had Danielle lived. "Meg, I have seriously considered your offer. I really want to do the right thing for Justin."
John walked back and leaned next to her against the counter. "But I've got a car coming for me in less than an hour and I can't make that decision now. You know if anything happens he's yours." He looked down at her and brushed the hair away from her eyes. He suddenly realized how much her eyes looked just like Danielle's. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head like he had done before back in happier times.
She looked up at him and tried to force a smile but the sadness was just below the surface. "Okay John I'll let you go for the last time but promise me that when you come back we will settle this. You have to make some kind of decision for Justin's sake okay?"
He put his arm around her and gave her a gentle nudge, "I promise this is work for the last time." He loved his son very much but he also knew that his type of work offered no special allowances for single fathers. It had been his intention all along, since his wife passed away 2 years ago, to resign his post and put in for a transfer to a quiet desk job. It was only because of the problems with this last assignment that he had been unable to make good on his promise and submit his request for transfer.
He turned to Megan and reached over to giver her another reassuring hug but this time she swatted at his arms. "Okay, okay enough of that. Go make your self useful then." Her voice trembled as she tried to be the authoritarian again. "Go spend a few minutes with your son while I go to the attic and get your suitcase down from retirement."
And so the moment of closeness between them was gone. John let her go and walked towards the porch. He felt awkward and vulnerable at her rejection and control over him.
Without looking back at her he opened the screen door and stepped outside.
The little boy was sitting on a bench as his feet swung back and forth with glee while the front of his shirt dripped with bubble soap. He waved the bubble wand madly in front of him as he shot a big smile up at his dad.
"Hey Justin, show me some more of those bubbles, wow that's pretty good. Can I try?" John asked as he sat next to him on the bench.
The woman stopped her work and watched them through the screen door. He's still without slippers! She laughed to herself as she noticed John's bare feet. She heard the small boy squeal with joy at the many bubbles now flying around the porch. Shaking her head in silence she wiped at bitter tears and walked away.