To those hoping I'd continue, "A Royal Affair" my apologies. I am on something of a spree in terms of writing and trying to wrap stories up.
Chapter Seventeen:
The Shaw angle turned out to be a dead end. There was no one pulling strings. An untraceable e-mail was sent to Geena's chief of staff suggesting that he apply for the job. He would be wired ten thousand dollars if he placed a vial of red stones in the President's pillow at the first opportunity. The money was never sent. Janson wasn't even aware of his wife's connection to Shaw.
Miranda, Geena, and Fleming and Reid sat in the kitchen eating ice cream late at night.
"After all that trouble," Fleming said bitterly. "Nada."
"Especially amidst the accusations of our misusing the Seal Team," Geena said. "How do you not know your wife is related to a criminal?"
"Some things just don't come up during pillow talk and meet the folk's dinners," Fleming said. "Especially if said criminal is not someone the family wants the world to know about."
"I guess," Geena said.
Fleming stared at Miranda.
"You look like you're ready to snore into your ice cream."
Miranda let out a long sigh. "I have another security briefing in six hours and a trip to the Middle East I've barely prepared for in less than a week. I'm ready to call it a night."
"Sweet dreams," Geena said.
"I'll be right up honey," Reid said and waited until he was certain Miranda was upstairs.
"Don't do anymore digging on your own," he said seriously. "We don't know who to trust and it is just not safe to mess with finding information without an oversight from an intelligence agency."
"I think I heard Hotchner the first six times he said that," Geena said.
"I'm telling you this because I care about both of you," he said. "I don't want either of you to be harmed by looking in the wrong place."
"Understood Sir," Fleming said.
"I'm calling it a night also," Reid said. "I'll see you ladies later."
Fleming watched him leave.
"Now what do we do?"
Geena shrugged.
"Enjoy the ice cream and let other people do the digging."
"That doesn't sound like much of a plan."
"Do you have a better one?"
"No," she said with a sigh.
"Then let's eat."
…
"Can you smuggle an artifact out for me?" Alex asked as Miranda finished packing.
"In your dreams," she said with a smirk.
"Can you ask to Dr. Sergun to visit my school?" Rachel asked.
He was a scientist in Palestine who was working on wormhole theories.
"That I can do," Miranda. "See what asking for reasonable things can do Alex?"
Alex made a face at his sister and Miranda was about to say something when Reid entered.
"Do you think you can sneak out a Sumerian tablet for me?" he asked with a smile.
"And you wonder where I get such ideas from," Alex said.
"I do," she said.
"I'm going to miss you Mommy," Rachel said. "This will be the longest you've gone."
"Foreign visits are part of the job honey," she said. "First a tour of the mid-east, then a trip the Vatican. I'll be home before you know it. I hear you have fitting for you flower girl dress this week."
"I can't wait," she said cheerfully. "Only twenty-two days until the big day!"
"I can," Alex said. "The concept of marriage in it's present form is a highly romanticized version of what was merely binding contract less than a thousand years ago."
"Just wait into you meet the right person," Reid said.
"I prefer the idea of independence."
Reid looked at Miranda and started laughing. She began to crack up to. Soon they were howling and clinging to each other.
"What did I say?" Alex asked, mystified.
"One day you'll understand," Reid said taking deep breaths.
"One day," Miranda said.
…
"Anybody care to guess how many cans of Red Bull I've used to look awake for this Vatican visit?" Miranda said while in the limo with Fleming and a few other staffers.
"How many is too many according to your kids?" Fleming asked.
"One," she said. "Something about a chemical in it. Which is why I don't drink it at home."
"You secret is safe with us," a staffer said.
The ground began to shake beneath them. Miranda gripped her armrests and bent her head down. Then the explosion came.
…
Everything was hazy at first. She felt a horrible headache coming on. Then she realized she wasn't wearing her favorite gray blazer. She was wearing orange. Prison orange.
More things came into focus. One foot was bare. She was tied to a chair with rope and handcuffs. The room she was in had a monitor and a camera. The more things came into focus, the more terrified she felt.
"So, Mrs. Reid how do you feel?" a voice said.
She looked up at the monitor to see a woman with short brown hair and a grin on her face.
"Catherine Adams?"