Billy exited his office with Lee's personnel file in hand, a man on a mission and couldn't help smiling as he watched Dr. Smyth exiting the conference room. He fixed him with a questioning gaze to which the other man just replied with an amused grin and a nod toward the conference room he'd just vacated and left the bullpen still puffing on his cigarette. Billy had just exited the bullpen behind him when Quidd caught up to him with a hiss of, "This is your doing, isn't it?"
"Is what my doing?" Billy questioned innocently, not halting in his walk toward the elevator.
"You know damn well what I'm talking about," Quidd snapped as he reached for Billy's arm to stop his motion, "Getting Smyth to do your dirty work for you."
Billy turned, nodded toward the shrink's hand on his arm and stated bluntly, "Unless you want another bruise to match the one my assistant gave you, I suggest you let go."
"Are you threatening me?" Quidd said incredulously, gripping Billy's arm even tighter. "You could lose your job for this!"
"No, Dr. Quidd, I'm not threatening you," Billy answered, an eerie calm in his voice, belied by the fury in his eyes. He nodded toward the glass doors of the bullpen and the faces within staring at them. He knew that as soon as he'd closed the blinds in his office, the entire population of the bullpen would be curious. He then smiled forebodingly at him, "Every person in that room in there just saw you grab me, not the other way around. So, the question you should ask yourself now is whose job would really be in danger; the man who's threatening a superior," He pointed to Quidd, "or the man who is simply defending himself from that threat?" He then pointed to himself. "I may work behind a desk most days, but unlike you, I have combat experience. Do you really want to put that to the test?"
"Perhaps he'd prefer to start pounding the pavement instead," Smyth added with an arched eyebrow, having witnessed the entire episode.
"I'd be happy to write you a letter of recommendation," Billy put in with a smirk as he thought of the task he was working on for Lee. He'd already written one today, what was one more?
Quidd released Billy's arm and looked sheepishly at Dr. Smyth who said with a sneer, "I don't know that he deserves a recommendation, Billy. I should write him up for insubordination for the disrespect he just showed you and the comments he just made about me. I despise hearing my job referred to as dirty work. I prefer to think of it as just the opposite, doing necessary clean-up. Make no mistake about it, Doctor; you left me a big mess to clean up. The last time I cleaned up a disaster even close to the Titanic-sized mess you created was when I first took over this job from Sidney Rollins. Now, you're to go straight upstairs: Do not pass go, Do not collect two-hundred dollars." When Quidd merely glared at him, Smyth nodded to the two guards standing at the doors to the bullpen who immediately approached the trio, each taking a stance on either side of Quidd. "Do I need to have these fine gentlemen escort you out or is my order with the gossip queen at the front desk to make sure that you leave the building sufficient?"
"That won't be necessary. I know the way out," Quidd huffed as he marched toward the elevator.
After he was out of earshot, Billy and Dr. Smyth exchanged a look and Smyth said, "It might not be a bad idea to make sure that our nasty little crow stays out of Scarecrow's cornfield."
Billy smiled. "I already have a tail assigned to him."
"Excellent work, Billy," Dr. Smyth replied with a smile as he headed toward the internal elevator to take him back to his office while Billy went the opposite direction to take him upstairs and off to the State Department to plead Lee's case. For Lee and Amanda's sake, he hoped they listened, but selfishly for his own sake, he hoped they didn't.
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Lee plodded wearily down the hall of his apartment building, hefting the trash bag in one hand while he used the other to jab at the elevator button, his thoughts in turmoil while he waited for the car to arrive. "God," he muttered again as he reflected back on his conversation with Billy the night before Amanda had been taken. He could perfectly picture the look a Billy's face, a mixture of wonder and concern at his decision to have Amanda be the one to call in the strike. He recalled with perfect clarity how quick he'd been to justify his decision when in truth, he'd just been so proud of Amanda and how far she'd come since joining the agency that he wanted to give her something real to do, but still keep her safe.
He stepped into the elevator and let the guilt wash over him as he thought of how he'd failed on both counts; the strike had been a bust because Birol had gotten away and Amanda hadn't been safe after all because not only had Birol gotten away, but he'd used her to do it. In fact, by placing her where he had with the idea being to keep her out of harm's way knowing that she might be carrying his child, he'd put her and their unborn child right in harm's way. If only he'd told Billy the whole truth when he'd prodded him about his intention to marry her, told him that he'd already bought her a ring; that they might already be expecting, maybe Billy's calm voice of reason would have driven him to make a different decision. It was done now though and hindsight had made him take Billy's words to heart. He was going to make damn sure that he was never put into that position again.
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Francine backed up, staring horror-stricken at Amanda striking her. "Amanda,' she said soothingly holding out her hands in a gesture of surrender.
Amanda flung the covers back from the bed and stared menacingly at the woman in front of her, the royal blue blouse she was wearing triggering another scary memory. "You tried to hurt my baby," she rasped as she pulled herself from the bed reached for the lamp on the nightstand and swung it in her direction yanking the cord from the wall in the process. She knew who she was. "Traitor!" she shouted as she swung again running on pure adrenaline and fury. She let herself and her baby be victims once; she wouldn't make that mistake again. She let herself be weak, but now was the time to be strong. Lee always told her how brave she was, how strong she was, now she had to find that inner strength. She wasn't going to let Birol's girlfriend take her back to him and make good on his threat to kill her baby to get to Lee.
"Now, just hold on, Amanda," Francine said as she dodged Amanda's swings of the lamp and on her third swing, grabbed hold of it beginning a tug of war over it. "Take it easy." She tried to keep her voice calm to avoid agitating her further. "I didn't try to hurt your baby. I know that we haven't always gotten along, but I'd never try to hurt you or your baby, I swear." Francine couldn't figure out what was going on. Lee only gave Amanda her sedative two hours ago. There was no way she should be this alert or this strong so soon. She grappled with her over the lamp, but still couldn't wrest it from her tight grip. "Now, come on, Amanda, think. It's me. I helped Lee rescue you. How does that make me a traitor?"
"I trusted you! I took you into my home because Lee told me I could trust you! I made you coffee, fed you, looked after you and you repay me by siding with HIM and trying to kill my baby!" She looked around wildly and screamed, 'LEE!"
Realization hit Francine at Amanda's words, "No, Amanda, I'm not Magda. I'm Francine," she explained gently as she gave one hard tug and finally wrested the lamp from Amanda's fists. She set the lamp on the desk behind her to keep it out of Amanda's reach and as she did so couldn't help reflecting on Lee once telling her about Amanda taking out a thug with a lamp. She remembered how she scoffed at the time, figuring Amanda to be a fainter, making a crack about a "suburban swoon." Now, though she could definitely see it. Amanda King was tougher than she looked. She took a deep breath, turned back to Amanda, then reached for a lock of her hair, and said, "See? Blonde, not brown. Look at my eyes, blue."
Amanda looked at her, but all she could see was her entering the room with Addi Birol, a bomb in her hands. "No, no," Amanda shook her head. "No, you're just trying to trick me, just like HE tried to trick me, make me think my mind is just playing tricks on me." She pulled her arm back but found it stopped by the other woman gripping both of hers. "LEE!" she screamed again.
Francine held Amanda's hands tightly together to prevent another violent outburst and said, "Then listen to the sound of my voice. Magda has a Hungarian accent. I don't. I know you've been seeing things that aren't there and that's confusing to you. I know you probably see me as Magda because she was there and we look a lot alike, but I promise you I'm not her. Now, close your eyes and just listen to the sound of my voice. Can you do that for me?"
"No, you'll try to hurt my baby if I close my eyes." She struggled against her trying to free her hands, her terror increasing at not being able to use her hands. She kept tugging and pulling, but found them held tight. "LEE!' she cried again this time her voice rising to a shriek.
"No, no I won't, I promise. You trust Lee, right?" When Amanda nodded, she continued, "Well, he left me here to take care of you, trusted me to do just that, so if he trusted me, that should mean that you can trust me too." She took a deep breath, as it seemed the feral look in Amanda's eyes was beginning to fade. "Good, now close your eyes and listen. Just listen to the sound of my voice." When Amanda finally relented, she continued talking to ensure that Amanda could distinguish her voice from Magda's and that that in turn would help her to distinguish her face from Magda's when she opened her eyes again, "I know a lot about you, Amanda King, things that Magda wouldn't know about you. I know that when I first met you, you were a den mother to your boys' Junior Sandblasters troop."
"Trailblazers," Amanda corrected without opening her eyes.
That's a good sign, Francine thought as she tried to keep herself calm in order to keep Amanda calm. "Right. I know that your mother drives you nuts with trying to get you married again and that she doesn't know yet that you're engaged to Lee. You told me that just this morning and that she'd be thrilled to hear that you're getting married again. I know that you used to coach your boys' Little League team, The Bombers, from all the times you used to run around the office, looking like you were just waiting for a scout from the Yankee's to come around. I know you like French perfume. I...I...uh..." she searched her mind to think of something else. "Oh, I know. I know that you have this fabulous black evening gown with spaghetti straps and pearl buttons that you made yourself and that Lee loves the way that you look in it."
Amanda's eyes snapped open at the mention of her dress, the one that Lee always told her she looked so beautiful in. "Francine?" she questioned skeptically. Images of Magda in the blue suit jacket with the zap gas bomb in hand blended with the image of Francine in her blue blouse holding her hands, brown hair, blonde hair, brown eyes, blue eyes, the images swirling and fading into one another, making her a bit dizzy. She blinked a couple of times until her eyes and her mind began to work in sync again and finally she saw Francine as she was. "I...um...I...wear that dress every New Year's Eve when Lee and I go to the Soviet Embassy party together. We've gone for the last three years."
"Good, Amanda, that's good. You're remembering things that are real now," Francine said soothingly. "That's really, really good." She breathed a sigh of relief that Amanda's fear and paranoia seemed to have abated for the time being.
Francine released her hands and as she did so, Amanda slumped, saying "I don't feel so good."
Francine hurried to try to catch her, propping her up against her shoulder, just as Lee burst into the room gun drawn and out of breath and shouted, "What the hell is going on in here?"