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chapter sixteen

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and when your blood is gone, how will you survive?

and your dreams, they don't stay in your mind
they are hiding in the night
and you think that this will be alright

-Azure Ray, "How Will You Survive"

xx

April 27, 2003
Arlington, VA
8:30 pm

Martin heaved a sigh and took in the scene around him: he stood in the entrance hallway of Senator Kingsley's Arlington home where diplomats and other assorted government officials had gathered for no real or apparent purpose other than caviar and champagne.

He had always thought these gatherings were the worst part of the duties of a politician. Aside from the free cocktails, he was certain he would never attend one of these functions of his own free will. He lacked interest in the Capitol Hill gossip and had absolutely no desire to form under-the-table alliances with his fellow Senators. He hadn't needed dirty dealings to win the past election, and he had privately vowed that he would never allow his career to come to that. He knew he was a man of his word and had nothing to hide, and he intended to keep things that way.

"Senator Fitzgerald," Lynn Kingsley, Senator Kingsley's wife, broke his silent contemplations. "You're looking well this evening."

"As are you," he replied, giving his best professional smile and reaching out to shake her hand. As she gave a small nod of her head, he wondered if she knew that her husband was in the next room flirting with the attractive young law student who was doing an internship in constitutional law. He gave her a small wave of encouragement as he resigned himself to his usual cocktail party mingling.

After about ten minutes of exchanging casual hellos and forced pleasantries, Martin finally spotted his senior senator across the crowded living room floor.

"Martin!" Colin Adair called out enthusiastically, motioning for Martin to join his small conversation circle. "I didn't think you'd be back from New York in time to join us."

"I got in a couple of hours ago." Martin felt his entire body relax as he joined Colin, Nancy, and two men he recognized from the Department of Justice. There were few people from Capitol Hill that Martin genuinely liked, and Colin Adair was one of them.

"So, how was New York?" Nancy inquired.

He nodded slowly. "It was fine."

"It's really starting to warm up there finally," one of the DOJ officials spoke up.

"Yeah, it is." He replied, grateful once again for all of his practice at confirming half truths and making polite small talk.

Truthfully, he hadn't ventured outside much over the course of the weekend. Neither he nor Sam felt like introducing their relationship to the public yet; thus, their only real change of scenery occurred in moving from her apartment on Thursday night to his home Friday evening. And even that came very carefully. She had been at work and had come over when she had finished there, while he had visited with his aunt and uncle, making his way home after he had finished catching up at the Toland's.

"Mom? Dad?"

Martin heard Allison's voice carry out over the back patio to where he sat with Aunt Bonnie and Uncle Roger.

"We're out back, Ally." Bonnie called out to her younger daughter.

"How was school?" Roger asked as Allison came into view, her backpack flung haphazardly over one shoulder.

"Eh, it was fine." Allison shrugged, turning to face her parents. "Marty!" She exclaimed, when she noticed her older cousin sitting alongside them. "What are you doing here?"

He stood to hug the teenager. "Nothing much. I was in town and I wanted to stop by and see you guys. I hear junior prom is coming up..."

"Allison is going with Mark Little's son." Bonnie said. Martin and Roger laughed, and Allison shrugged and smiled.

"Isn't he the same kid who you were always with at the pool in the summer?" Martin asked.

"Yeah. His name's Robert." Allison replied.

"He finally forgave her for always beating him at the 100 meter breaststroke," Roger grinned teasingly. Martin knew Roger was proud of Allison's competitive spirit. It had come naturally to Allison, though; after all, she had spent her entire childhood trying to catch up to Martin, Jamie, Caroline and Rebecca.

"Dad!" Allison groaned, embarrassed at her father's playful chatter. "Enough already! So, what about you Marty? Are you here for the weekend, or do you have some big charity social event that you have to go to?" But before Martin could even put together an excuse, Allison caught on. "Oooooh."

"What, Ally?" Bonnie asked.

"Oooooh," Allison grinned mischievously. Martin glared at her, but he knew he had been caught. "Marty's got a girlfriend!" She exclaimed triumphantly.

"Marty, that's great!" Bonnie's spoke quickly, eyes shining with excitement. "Tell us about her!"

Martin felt his face flush. "There isn't a lot to tell. We've only been seeing each other for a few weeks."

"You met her, Mom." Allison was obviously glad to deflect the teasing to someone else. "She was at the dinner thing that Uncle Victor had."

Both Roger and Bonnie turned to look at him expectantly.

"Her, uh, her name is Samantha. We met about a month ago when I came into town for that memorial service. I didn't see her again until Kels and Bridge... things just kind of went from there." He suddenly felt shy and unsure: though he knew he could trust his aunt and uncle, he was still coming to terms with the young relationship. He tried to fight the ominous feeling that things had been too easy for them as of yet, even in spite of the difficulties presented by living several states apart. "We're, uh... we're keeping things quiet for awhile. Between her work and mine, it just wouldn't be a good idea yet."

"Of course," Roger agreed. "That makes sense. As long as you're happy, we're happy for you."

Martin smiled. Sometimes, he wished he could speak so openly with his own parents.

xx

10:05 pm

Over an hour later, Martin found himself aimlessly wandering around the now-mostly-intoxicated crowd of Washington's finest, anxious for the earliest opportunity to make a discrete exit.

Just as he thought he spotted an escape route, Colin Adair approached him once again.

"Martin -" Colin's voice sounded hushed and urgent. "Martin, I've been trying to get you alone all evening."

He felt his eyebrows arch in confusion. "Is something wrong?"

Colin shook his head. "Not here."

Colin motioned for him to follow, and they finally found themselves alone in the kitchen, where most of the event staff had dispersed to their various assignments.

"Those two from DOJ didn't manage to corner you tonight, did they?" Colin asked.

"No, the only time I even saw them was when they were talking to you. Is something wrong?"

Colin released a heavy breath. "You could say that. Has your father mentioned anything about an investigation that they're running out of the New York branch of the Bureau?"

"Not that I can remember." He shrugged his shoulders; he had no idea where this was heading.

"Well, apparently your father was in favor of it until a couple of weeks ago, and now he seems a little more hesitant. You don't know what this is about?"

Martin began to mentally review every conversation he'd had with his father in the past month, but came up empty. He shook his head slowly. "I have no idea."

"I would suggest you figure out what's going on quickly." Colin's advice was, as always, stern but genuine. "This is about Anwar Samir, and DOJ has had one hell of a field day trying to keep it all under wraps."

"I'm sorry, who?" He felt his body tense in frustration, and he lifted a hand to massage his temple.

"Anwar Samir-- Oh, of course. That's why you don't remember! It must have been about two weeks before you were sworn in..." Colin moved closer, his voice now coming in a whisper. "JTTF and one of the teams from the Manhattan office took out a Saudi man who was a resident at one of the local hospitals. I still don't know many of the details and, from what I can see, it looks like they didn't have much of a choice but to take him out: they found him in a dorm where a bomb was set to go off, and he had killed before... I doubt they had time to stop and ask questions. But DOJ is looking to take someone down for it, and up until a few weeks ago, they had your father's full support."

"And now?" Martin asked, still struggling to make sense of what was being said.

"And now, he's more hesitant; I don't know anything more than that. You should talk to your father about it."

"I will," Martin breathed deeply as he replied, trying to ignore the throbbing headache he had developed. "You'd better get back before Nancy comes looking for you."

Colin laughed quietly as he moved toward the door. "No. She found Lynn Kingsley about half an hour ago; I'd be surprised if I hear from her for the rest of the night."

The kitchen doors swung open and shut behind his elder colleague, and Martin found himself alone in the dark room, relieved by the silence. He could slip out now completely unnoticed, and no one would be any the wiser.

He made his way out the side door and into the cool evening air, and while he waited for the driver to bring his car back around, he fought the ominous feeling in his gut. And he knew that there was someone else he wanted to call before he ever spoke to his father about this Anwar Samir.

xx

New York City
10:30 pm

Samantha shivered as she exited the shower and wrapped her robe tightly around her small frame for warmth. Her super had turned on the air conditioning sometime on Friday, and she hadn't been home the entire weekend, which resulted in her apartment being about 20 degrees too cold when she returned from Martin's. She silently cursed her super for setting her thermostat so low; eight hours later, it was still too cool for her liking.

She smiled to herself when she noticed an extra toothbrush sitting by her sink. Martin. He must have left it when he had been here on Thursday night.

She felt a chill run through her body that had nothing to do with the air conditioning; there was a certain degree of excitement at a tangible reminder of him. Their entire relationship thus far was a whirlwind -- everything was happening so fast, she wasn't sure if she even believed it herself. His toothbrush made everything seem suddenly that much more real, and the thought both thrilled her and terrified her all at the same time.

She picked her blow dryer up off the sink top, humming quietly to herself under the heavy stream of hot air. Her body warmed up almost instantly -- maybe not entirely from the hair dryer, although she would not allow herself to admit it.

And as she stood in front of her bathroom mirror feeling more rested and relaxed than she had been in months, she couldn't hear her cell phone vibrating from its resting place on her dresser.

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