Plans, Perceptions, and Providence

By Felicia Ferguson

Shane/Oliver Engaged

Author's Note: As always, I own none of the SSD characters. Martha Williamson, writer and creator extraordinaire, and the uber-talented Eric Mabius, Kristin Booth, Valerie Bertinelli, and someone else (no spoilers!) have that honor. We'll be winding this one up around chapter 5, I think. Hang on for the ride!

Chapter 2

Interviews over, pictures taken, and ribbon successfully cut, Shane sat in front of her laptop at a high-top table in the bar of the Franklin Adams Hotel, Oliver and Becky peering over her shoulders. She slid the USB drive into the port, then typed open the command function. "Now, let's see if we can find who you belong to." Biting her lip, she watched code scroll down the screen.

Shane's brow furrowed as the first inklings of worry skirted across her heart. "Okay, this isn't what I expected."

Oliver laid a hand on the back of her chair, brushing her shoulder with his knuckles. "What did you expect?"

"Well, file folders for one. Basic documents. But this is actual code. Hacker code—wait. No. No, no, no!" Her fingers flew over the keyboard in an effort to pause the continuous scroll of the increasingly familiar script.

"What?" Becky asked, her tone clearly confused.

"Shane, what's wrong?"

Shane shook her head as her eyes widened. Cheeks paling, her stomach clenched. "This-this is my code."

Oliver's hand moved from the seat to her shoulder, a comforting weight that tethered her as the world began to spin. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

She turned in her seat, rubbing her arms to soothe the foreboding tingle that danced over her skin. Glancing from Oliver to Becky, her gaze returned to his. Reading the concern in his eyes, she took in a deep breath and tried to find the words to explain the unexplainable. "When I was out of the country working for Steve, one of my assignments was to hack the CIA to check their security protocols against the cyberattack we were fighting."

Her gaze dropped to her hands, and her shoulders hunched. "I got in. And pretty far in."

Oliver's brow wrinkled as he shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you remember when I hacked Michael's computer on the Denver City Hall mainframe, and we saw what he saw?"

Oliver flicked an uncomfortable glance toward Becky then nodded.

Shane lowered her voice. "I read the director's emails."

"Oh, dear."

Becky shook her head, seemingly unconcerned about Shane's hacking under authorization. "And what's that got to do with what you found on the drive?"

Shane heaved a heavy sigh. "This is the same I code I used—at least a good portion of it. It looks like the base level has been changed, added onto, to target something specific. Like a certain database or file on the CIA's servers."

Confusion flickered in Becky's gaze. "But wouldn't their security have made changes based on your access?"

"I would have thought so, but I left before I knew for sure." After Oliver's surprise visit and her confrontation with Steve over her continued assignment, all she could think about was what it would take to free her from her work commitment so she could go home to Denver and to Oliver. "The only thing I cared about at that point was deleting my work and getting home." Shane turned her eyes to Oliver and, meeting his gaze, silently added, To you.

"Our work was classified. I shredded all the hard copies personally. Even watched them delete my code off the servers before I left—that's why it took me so long to get back to Denver after you came to D.C. I had to be sure nothing of mine could be used again. But I obviously missed something." Though her national security work had taught her that gray areas were and always would be gray, the knowledge did nothing to fight her looming sense of responsibility. Guilt pricked at her. She should have been more thorough, checked every possibility.

Becky took in a deep breath, speculation gleaming in her dark eyes. "That means this was an inside job."

Shane swallowed hard and licked her lips as fear crashed through her. "It had to be."

Oliver took her hand and, running his thumb over her knuckles, he said, "Unfortunately, it's an inside job that right now points to only one person. You."

Oliver watched Shane's face fall. He longed to pull her from her chair and into his arms, but such physical comfort would do nothing to ease the snowballing issue they faced.

Shane tugged her hand from his and reached for her phone. "I need to call Steve."

Perturbed by the combination of losing of her hand and the returning jealousy of her former flame, Oliver grunted and his shoulders stiffened. He knew Shane loved him, knew she was his for the rest of their lives, but the old rivalry and hurt wouldn't be quenched by facts. Added to that, Steve wasn't a man to be trusted—especially not with Oliver's future wife and the life he had planned for them. A life of roses and porch swings. Of long walks and late dinners. Of quiet evenings and peaceful hikes. Of delayed deliveries and charitable philanthropy.

Shane's lips twisted in a pained smile as she cupped his cheek. "I know you don't like him, Oliver. But he's the only one I know who can back me up." Her eyes pleaded with him to trust her, to trust Steve.

And there was precedence for doing so. Though she'd been threatened by their friendship, Shane had once turned to Dale when there was no other person who could help save him. How could he now object to her turning to Steve to help save herself? At length, Oliver pulled her hand from his cheek to his lips and nodded.

Becky grimaced, then reached for her own phone. "While you do that, I'll call John."

Shane looked perplexed by the offer, and Oliver admitted he was at sea himself. Of course, the whole of the issue was something for which he had no understanding. Perhaps it was time to at least become passingly familiar with Shane's twenty-first century.

Becky glanced around the room and lowered her voice. "I'm not allowed to talk about it, for security reasons, but John's high up in a well-known defense contracting firm here. They handle cybersecurity for some heavy hitters. I'm sure he'll know someone who can help."

Shane sighed as Becky stepped away to make her own phone call. Placing her hand on Oliver's arm as if assuring him of her commitment, she dialed the one man Oliver could honestly say he loathed.

"Steve? It's Shane. I'm in D.C. with Oliver, and we found something we need to show you." Shane was silent as she listened to whatever Mr. Marek had to say, then nodded. "We'll meet you there in an hour."

Becky returned a moment later. "John is making some discreet inquiries and will let me know as soon as he hears something. Any news from Steve?"

Shane tucked her phone back in her purse and nodded. "We need to go to Langley."

Becky pulled Shane into a long hug. "Keep me posted."

Shane and Oliver stood in Steve's white stone and cinderblock office and stared at the map on the wall. He'd escorted them into the room ten minutes prior then left after a quick phone call. Shane shook her head. "How did this happen, Oliver? I was so careful—or at least I thought I was."

Oliver turned, his gaze meeting hers. "I don't know. But hopefully Mr. Marek will have some answers."

The door behind them opened and Steve elbowed through it carrying a stack of files. He looked up and frowned.

That's not what I was hoping to see. Shane's stomach flipped over and she instinctively reached for Oliver's hand. Oliver gave her hand a long squeeze and, after a quick reassuring glance toward her, turned his attention to Steve.

Steve set the files on his desk and picked up his reading glasses, then flipped through the folders. "Everything from your part of the operation is here including segments of the code that you found on the thumb drive."

"What? That was all shredded. I did it myself." Shane squared her shoulders and took in a quick fortifying breath. "Tell me the truth, Steve. I watched my code being wiped from the system. Was it really wiped or did it somehow stay on a server?"

Steve flipped through to another file and shook his head. "It was wiped. I've got the confirmation right here. The only stuff left that relates to you on our servers is your security clearance and payroll information. They kept pieces of your code in these Eyes Only files." He closed the file and glanced up. "So, the code had to have been stolen before the wipe or as it was being done. Unless …"

Shane looked away and blinked hard. "Unless I smuggled it out. Which I didn't do!" Shane felt Oliver's hand squeeze hers again, and she took in a deep breath. "So, what do we do now?"

Steve scratched his forehead and adjusted his glasses, then checked his computer. "I had my team start checking, and it's not looking good, Shane. They found an encrypted email address in your name with several emails between you and another person."

Shane released Oliver's hand and spread her arms wide. "Not me, Steve. I don't have an encrypted email account—not since I left D.C. to go home after—" She shot a glance to Oliver unable to break the confidentiality clause she signed before the plane landed. Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head. "This is a mistake."

Oliver clasped his hands behind his back, his tone taking on a hard edge. "Mr. Marek, this drive was found loose in a postal carrier's mail bag. The connection to Shane is her confirmation that the code is something she used six months ago—in the service of national security. Code that you just verified was deleted from the servers and the computer she used. What about the new code she said was added to hers? Has anyone looked at it to identify who wrote it?"

Steve spread his arms wide and gave a helpless shrug. "We're in the process of doing that right now. But it's going to take a while."

"Shane would have no access to the internal CIA postal system if the drive was mailed from here after she left."

Shane mashed her lips together and shook her head, trying to smother the rising panic that clenched her chest. "But without an envelope, it could look like someone might have been sending it to me."

Steve nodded. "Or given that the carrier said it could have been in her bag for as long as six months, it could be argued you sent it to yourself before you left. It's circumstantial. But without corroborating evidence like an envelope or identification of who added the code, you'd be the first suspect on my list."

Shane's mouth dropped open as her eyes widened in disbelief. "Steve, you know me. You know I wouldn't do this."

Steve shrugged. "I do, but I also know your skills and your penchant for hacking into government databases."

"For the greater good! To deliver dead letters and protect this country!" Shane swung around and stalked toward the door. Oliver caught her arm on her way back staying her bubbling anger.

Sympathy warmed Oliver's gaze, radiating a steady calm. Shane took in a deep breath and willed that same calm into her heart and nerves.

"Mr. Marek, I understand what your team has found during their initial searches, but I don't believe you've answered Shane's question. What do we do now?"

Steve tossed his glasses on the desk and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Right now, you should go back to the hotel, try to get some rest, and wait for more information. Oh, and don't plan on going back to Denver for at least a couple of days."

Shane's eyes widened. "Don't leave town? Steve, we're getting married in less than three weeks. In Denver."

Oliver slipped his hand around hers and squeezed, drawing her gaze to his. "Like you said, everything is in a holding pattern right now until the week before the wedding. If necessary, we can ask the planner to attend to any remaining details."

Shane pursed her lips, then nodded. Oliver was right, but the last thing she wanted to do was spend any more time in D.C.

Oliver watched Shane pace her hotel room and winced. A caged lioness would likely be more comfortable within the confines of the four walls. Perhaps giving her something else to do would provide a suitable distraction. "It would be good to update Rita and Norman in case we do need to stay longer."

Shane stopped mid-pace and bit her lip. "Oh, and I probably should cancel dinner with Mom and Alex. I don't think I could face them and not spill everything. And the last thing I want to do is worry Mom or impact Alex's recovery in any way."

"I think that's wise. I'll order room service so we can have a quiet evening."

Shane nodded and picked her phone up off the desk. "If you'll call Rita and Norman, I'll take care of Mom."

Oliver pulled her down to sit beside him on the loveseat and pressed a kiss to her temple. Settling his arm around her, he picked up the room phone and dialed the DLO.

"DLO, Norman speaking." Norman's steady tone offered the calm of normality amidst the storm that had raged around them since that morning.

"Norman, it's Oliver."

"Oliver? Why are you calling? Is everything okay?"

Oliver sighed. "Unfortunately, no, and we may be here for a few more days because of what's happened. Is Rita there with you? There are developments you both need to know."

Shane slipped off her heels then tucked her feet under Oliver's leg and leaned into the opposite end of the love seat, craving the comfort of simply touching him and yet also knowing they each needed space for their calls. He smiled and placed a hand on her knee as she tapped Mom's name in her phone. "Hi, Mom. Hey, something's come up, and I need to cancel dinner tonight."

"Shane, honey, is everything all right?" Concern laced Mom's question, and Shane bit her lip. She hadn't thought about an explanation for canceling. Her eyes flicked to Oliver, who was giving an overview of the day to Rita. "No, nothing you should worry about, Mom, just some …um…"

Oliver squeezed her knee and placed his hand over his receiver, muting his conversation with Norman and Rita. "Tell her its O'Toole Foundation business."

Relief flooded through her. Yes, that would be believable and would ease Mom's worry. "Oh, it's just some O'Toole Foundation business that has to be taken care of while we're here. But, we'll see you in Denver in two weeks." Well, I hope we'll see you in Denver. Shane shook the thoughts from her head and focused on soothing Mom's concern and catching up on Alex's progress.

A few minutes later, barely holding herself together, she ended the call and buried her face in Oliver's chest. Oliver offered the phone to Shane, but she shook her head. As much as she loved Rita and Norman, she needed Oliver more. He wound up the conversation with promises to keep them updated, then hung up the phone and wrapped her in his arms.

Words tumbled from her lips flowing almost as fast as the tears that soaked into his dress shirt. "I spent three months of my life—three months away from you—serving my country, doing what I was told was right, and good, and necessary, and this is what I get for it?"

Clutching him tighter, she let the deepest fears fall from her lips. "Oliver, I'm scared. What if Steve can't clear me? What if I go to jail? What if—"

"Shhh." Oliver pulled her closer and, sliding his hand under her hair, stroked her back with slow, soothing circles. "I can't believe God would allow that to happen."

She shook her head against his chest. "But you know how hard it's been for us to get together. How many times we've misunderstood each other, all the moments and opportunities we've missed, and all those months we were separated. What if God really is trying to tell us we're a mistake? What if this is his way of finally ending us?"

Shane knew she was borderline hysterical, knew that none of those thoughts made any logical sense. But in the whirlwind of fear, they formed and grew until losing Oliver along with the rest of her life were the only thoughts that seemed real.

Oliver held her until she cried herself out, stroking her back, humming a soft, unfamiliar tune. When her tears finally dried, he hugged her. "You believe God transferred you to the Dead Letter Office or not Direct Line Operations, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Then trust that whatever is happening isn't him breaking us up. Think of it as a bump in the road."

Shane took a deep sniff and released it on a watery exhale. "It's an awfully big bump, Oliver."

"I know, love." He fell silent and Shane felt his chin shift on top of her head. Certain he was contemplating something, she closed her eyes and waited.

"What is that you told me once? That love is hard work? I believe now is a time to do the hard work. And in my mind, part of that hard work is trusting God's plan in spite of what we see right now and believing he will guide us through this."

He leaned back just enough to meet her eyes. That deep, abiding love she'd first seen after his own meltdown over his mother's gift radiated from his gaze, warming her and easing the storm of fear and dread that raged inside her.

A soft smile, tinged his lips. "I'm not letting go, Shane. Not now, not ever."

"Neither am I," she promised as she set her lips to his.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Shane jerked back, eyes wide, and glanced to the door. Frowning, she asked, "Did you order room service already?"

Oliver pursed his lips and shook his head. "Whomever it is, they certainly seem insistent."

Wiping her cheeks, Shane uncurled herself from his arms and tucked her feet back in her heels. After checking the peep hole, she turned back to Oliver. "It's Steve. Maybe he has some news."

Oliver stood and grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the desk chair, donning it quickly. Shane cringed at the smear her mascara made on the white broadcloth and waited until he'd buttoned the jacket. Her lips lifted in a small smile. The jacket covered most of the evidence of her meltdown, but she was fairly sure the shirt itself was ruined. Shane figured Oliver wouldn't mind.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. "Steve, come in. Have you found out anything?"

Steve grimaced and shook his head. Regret shaded his eyes as he stepped aside, revealing two men in dark suits. "I'm sorry Shane, Oliver. But it's out of my hands."

One of the men flashed a badge while the other grabbed Shane by the arm, spun her around, and snapped handcuffs on her wrists. "Shane McInerney, you're under arrest for treason, conspiracy to commit treason, and domestic terrorism."