9:14 a.m. Tuesday, August 19, 1986

Lee had slipped out of the bullpen doors and turned toward the elevators to head up to his office when he heard his name being called from behind him and picked up his pace.

"Lee!"

The voice was getting closer, so he sped up.

"Lee, please!" her voice was strained.

He pressed the elevator button, willing the car to arrive to take him away before she reached him.

Her hand pressed against his forearm and he stared at the connection, unable to blink. "Lee, can we please go somewhere and talk?"

"I don't have anything to say to you right now, Amanda," he pulled his arm away and jabbed impatiently at the call button before giving up and rushing to the door marked 'stairs.' He didn't know where he was going, but anywhere was better than being around her right now. He didn't trust himself to be alone with her. Part of him wanted to scream and rant at her betrayal, the other part wanted to take her into his arms and make the world go away.

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2:39 p.m. Tuesday, August 19, 1986

"It's like she never existed!" After a thorough search, of both his own and several of his 'family,' Lee had finally given up. Whomever expunged her file did an excellent job.

"Scarecrow, you of all people should know how the government works." Billy leaned back in his chair.

"Yeah," he snorted in disgust. "Secrets upon secrets, upon secrets. I'm used to the government lying and hiding things but not . . ." his voice trailed off as he stared at his hands unseeing.

"Amanda," Billy finished Lee's thought for him.

Lee simply grimaced, but never looked up.

"Look, why don't you get out of town for a few days?" The older man held up his hand to prevent his inevitable protest. "An assignment just came across my desk . . ." He searched the pile of folders in his inbox.

"Bil-ly!" Lee groused.

"It'll be the perfect distraction for you," he rushed as he continued to flip through the files.

"I don't NEED a distraction, Billy. I don't WANT a distraction."

"Ah, here it is."

Lee took the proffered file. "Billy –"

"Just read the file, Scarecrow," he stressed loudly.

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10:17 a.m. Wednesday, August 20, 1986

"Focus!" the boom of his voice startled her out of her haze. "You aren't focused, Agent-Candidate King!"

She barely had time to clear her mind before she found herself on her back and staring up at the gym ceiling. "I'm sorry, Sir," she replied meekly to the stern looking face hovering above her.

"Don't apologize to me, Agent-Candidate King. Apologize to your future partner when you aren't able to protect them because you didn't feel like putting in the work during training." He straightened himself up and blew his whistle a little too loudly, indicating the class should reset for the next demonstration.

After righting herself, Amanda cleared her mind and focused as instructed. She successfully took down her opponent with a swift leg sweep and followed through with a simulated punch to the stomach, before helping her young partner off the floor with a faint smile.

"Better, Agent-Candidate King," the instructor nodded toward her from the other side of the mat.

"Thank you, Sir," she smiled feeling proud of her small accomplishment. "You can call me Amanda, Sir."

"Let's work on consistency, Agent-Candidate King. Shall we?" He rolled his eyes and scribbled down some notes on his clipboard before trudging off toward the next group.

She took in a deep breath and held it for a moment before expelling it, her eyes fluttering shut for an instant. "Okay, Randy are you ready to try again?" she asked her teammate. She hated throwing the small man around, he barely weighed 120 pounds soaking wet. Even she didn't have any trouble taking him down. 'What interest could the Agency have in Randy Tomlin? Of course, what interest could they have in a housewife from Arlington?'

She felt her teammate's arm come around her shoulder and press against her throat. Instinctively, she spun around and jabbed his nose with the heel of her hand all while bringing her knee up to his groin. When he pulled back to avoid any further simulated beatings, she swept his legs out from under him and brought him face-down to the ground, one arm pulled behind him and her knee pressed lightly into his back.

"Very impressive, Agent-Candidate King. It appears you have been studying ahead of the rest of the class."

She turned to see the look of pride on her instructor's face and nodded ever so slightly in thanks. 'Studied ahead, or already learned. What's the difference?' she thought to herself.

"You may have potential yet." He nodded before blowing the whistle in a long succession indicating the end of class.

After releasing her pseudo-partner and helping him to his feet, she grabbed her things and moved to the locker room for a quick shower. She had another class to get to.

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"Agent Stetson, how can I help you," the older man queried as he walked tentatively toward Lee.

His silvery grey buzz cut reminded Lee of his uncle and he instinctively stood straighter as he rose from the large conference table and held out his hand. "Deputy Director Hughes. Thank you for seeing me."

"I can't say that I had much choice in the matter, Agent Stetson. It appears you have friends in very high places." He sat across from Lee looking less than pleased at being summoned to this meeting.

Lee gave an apologetic grin before diving right in. "Sir, you were head of the training program here at Quantico when it first opened, is that right?"

"Yes, in the spring of 1969 until the end of 1974."

"And "Operation Fledgling," you spearheaded that as well?"

"Agent Stetson, I'm afraid this meeting is over." He rose from his chair abruptly.

"Deputy Director, please!" Lee held up his hand to stop the other man from bolting. "My partner . . . she was recruited and graduated from the program. Your program."

"What is it you want, Agent?"

"I'm just looking for confirmation that she was recruited by the FBI, who she worked for . . . and why."

"It's a closed project, Agent Stetson. Eyes only."

"Yes, Sir." He hesitated. "I know my supervisor would be very appreciative of your assistance, as would those other 'friends' you mentioned earlier." He knew he was making assumptions, but he was desperate. He had to know the full story. Lee watched the other man stride over to the wall of windows and gaze down below.

"So, who is this partner of yours?"

Lee let out the breath he was holding. "Her name at the time was Amanda West. If you could take a look at your files—"

"Sunshine."

"I beg your pardon, Sir?"

"Her codename." He turned away from the windows to look back at Lee. "One of my trainers started calling her that from the first day of class. She was always so fresh and bright." He smiled fondly at the memory. "She was aptly named 'Sunshine,' Agent Stetson."

Lee couldn't help but smile. That was most definitely his Amanda. "Yes, that sounds like her, Sir."

"It was our inaugural class. The class that would set the tone for the rest of the program." He walked back over to the table and leaned his elbow on the back of one of the chairs. "That partner of yours, well, she set the bar extremely high. I'm glad to hear she stayed in the business after leaving the FBI. She was a natural. How is she?"

"Not the entire time. I guess you could say I . . . recruited her about three years ago." He rubbed the back of his neck in consternation. "Just happened to be at the right place at the right time, I guess."

"You're a lucky man, Agent Stetson. I hope you're worthy of her." He stared at Lee for a bit longer than was comfortable before finally continuing, "Sunshine was at the top of her class. She had great instincts . . ." he shook his head and smiled to himself. "Well, you just can't train that kind of thing."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. She certainly has a knack for this business." Lee smiled proudly despite his mixed emotions. "Sir, do you know anything about her time after she graduated with the Bureau? Her assignments?"

"I'm afraid I've told you far more than I feel comfortable with, Agent Stetson." He moved toward the door and reached for the handle before turning back. "I suggest you ask that partner of yours for the rest of the story. Good day."

"Thank you for your time, Sir," Lee called out to the retreating form. He sighed loudly into the empty room. "No, no, I'll see myself out," he mumbled to himself as he left the room.

Once out in the parking lot, Lee fumbled for his keys and they fell out of his hands, landing just under the edge of the car. As he reached down to grab them, he could hear someone calling to him.

"Mr. Stetson! Mr. Stetson!"

Lee grabbed his keys and straightened just in time to halt the secretary he'd spoken to when he'd arrived by the shoulders. He let her catch her breath a bit before asking her what she needed.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stetson. But, uh . . . you seem to have dropped this on your way out." She slipped him a folded-up piece of paper clumsily. "I think you dropped this." Her stare was overly serious. Obviously, it was her first parlay into the spy world. If he weren't so damn happy to catch a break, he would have laughed at her naiveté. It reminded him of his charming partner during her first case with him. But then, that hadn't been real, had it? He frowned at that thought.

"Thank you." He slipped the paper seamlessly into his pocket and smiled at the matronly woman. "And please, pass along my thanks to Deputy Director Hughes for uh . . . making sure I got all I came for." Lee flashed her his dimples in thanks.

She smiled proudly and nodded before turning toward the building to make the long trek back to her office.

Lee waited until he was outside the compound before pulling off and peeking at the note he was slipped. "Handler: Marcus Ward-Annapolis, MD," was scribbled on the small slip of paper. "Thank YOU, Mr. Hughes," he whispered to himself before putting the car back into drive and heading to his hotel. He'd have to look into this Ward person once he was safely back in his hotel room.