Mercy Mild—Chapter Ten

Dinner that evening gave Victoria more time to observe the grownups in her life, but most of them were not themselves. Uncle Devon treated Clara like she was younger than Jack, but the other girl didn't seem to mind. Victoria was annoyed by that, but she supposed he had been worried about Clara while she was stolen. If Clara didn't mind being treated like a baby, then that was her business. Victoria was just glad her own dad didn't treat her like one.

Uncle Chuck and Aunt Walker kept giving one another looks like they were fighting without words, or at least she thought they were fighting because Uncle Chuck's eyes would get really wide and his face was exaggeratedly serious while Aunt Walker looked like she was trying to warn him, especially after she caught Victoria watching them. Victoria wondered what was going on. It must have involved whatever had Mummy pushing her food around instead of eating much of it because occasionally Daddy gave them his narrow-eyed, tight-jawed glare that had them suddenly interested in talking to other people about things that weren't very important—usually to Uncle Morgan who was on the other side of Uncle Chuck. She also knew Daddy was holding Mummy's hand under the table, which was something he only did when she was really upset.

Her aunt Emma sat on the other side of Mummy, and occasionally they would talk. Since Victoria was next to Daddy, she could hear them talking a little about Christmas, mostly about planning their holiday dinner. Victoria wanted to tell them they had to wait for Jack to come home before they talked about Christmas. She suddenly wasn't hungry anymore, and Daddy, who noticed, leaned over and told her to finish eating. When she looked up at him, she saw he was unhappy, too, knew it was worry about Mummy and Jack and not that she wasn't eating, so she scooped some lasagna on her fork and ate it.

For that matter, Alex wasn't eating much, either, but she occasionally dropped her hand to her stomach and made a funny face, like she felt a little sick. Victoria began to worry that meant she would have the baby soon because that was kind of how Mummy had been just before Jack was born. The baby wasn't due for another two months, but Victoria knew babies decided to show up early sometimes. She supposed it could just be the baby kicking. She'd felt Jack moving inside Mummy before he was born, and Mummy said it was really uncomfortable sometimes, so maybe that was what made Alex look like that.

Uncle Morgan, though, was the only one who acted normal. Of course, Uncle Morgan's normal was a little different than most people's, but at least he never seemed to change. One minute he was like a little kid, all full of enthusiasm and lacking sense, and the next he was a helpful, responsible grownup. Victoria liked that about him, though she knew the kid part made Daddy kind of crazy sometimes.

Even Aunt Julie was quieter than she would normally be, which worried Victoria a little because she normally teased Daddy about everything. This time, she simply talked to people around her, mostly Aunt Dena and Grandma Ariel. Victoria supposed that might be because she didn't want to upset Mummy. Aunt Julie was always nicer to Mummy than she was to most other people.

Of course, Grandma Ariel would normally poke at Daddy, too, until they were both mad, but it seemed that if her grandmother couldn't say something nice to him, she had decided to say nothing at all. That could be because Mummy had finally told her to shut up about Daddy, but her grandma Ariel wasn't exactly good at doing what she was told. Victoria sometimes wondered if her grandma's own parents had ever punished her as a kid or taught her how to behave.

Grandma Ariel and Aunt Julie had a lot in common, she realized, and Victoria wondered if she ought to be worried about what they might get up to together that would make Mummy more upset than she already was and make Daddy really mad. The only real difference besides age was that Aunt Julie wasn't mean, though Grandma Ariel could be.

Grandma Jane was the most normal, though. She did what she always did—quietly supplied food, kept the peace when it looked like something might be about to start, and got people talking if they were quiet for too long. She also stopped anything that might make Mummy even sadder than she already was before it got started. Victoria supposed having to deal with Daddy and Aunt Julie, not to mention her other two aunts, Jenn and Jan, must have made her good at getting people to behave and be nice.

General Patterson and Grandpa V. H. sat beside one another and talked. From what little Victoria could hear, it sounded like they were talking mostly about golf and baseball. Grandpa V. H. only had one hand that worked, but that didn't stop him from doing much of anything, and she knew he played golf. He also had a great love for the Toronto Blue Jays, which Daddy usually gave him grief about since they never did very well—though Grandpa V. H. often reminded him that at least they had won the World Series back-to-back, making it an actual "world" series for a change. Daddy usually looked unimpressed and responded that that was a long time ago.

Victoria wished there weren't so many people there. Between family and the FBI people, the house felt crowded, and she didn't like that. That redheaded woman Daddy worked with who talked on TV for them had come back just before dinner. Mummy had invited her to join them, but Victoria was really glad she decided to eat with the FBI people in the kitchen instead of in the big dining room with them. That Forrest lady was kind of crispy, and Victoria thought she might snap if she was got mad enough.

She caught a look between Daddy and Aunt Walker that made her think something was going on they didn't want anyone else to know. Victoria watched as Aunt Walker leaned toward Uncle Chuck and said something. Mummy had made tiramisu earlier in the day, and Uncle Chuck finished his quickly. Uncle Morgan suggested playing Call of Duty, but Uncle Chuck said he'd have to pass. He suggested maybe Victoria might like to play, but she thought he'd made that suggestion only because he had some reason he couldn't tell Uncle Morgan why he couldn't.

Mummy looked kind of horrified, but she didn't say anything, which made Victoria even more suspicious. Normally, Mummy didn't like her playing violent games that involved shooting people, even if it was war stuff where the shooting stuff was kind of okay. Victoria knew the games weren't real, which she'd explained to Mummy once, but Mummy had told her that wasn't the problem. She didn't like the idea of Victoria killing people, even fake people. Victoria had been surprised when Daddy agreed with Mummy about that. She'd overheard enough people say Daddy was a killer to know he must have actually killed some people. He was a Marine, though, which was a kind of soldier, and he was spy. She knew from movies she wasn't supposed to watch that spies killed people. He never talked about it, though, and she wasn't about to ask.

Daddy didn't protest, either, but Alex and Grandma Ariel did. Uncle Morgan decided he'd find something else to do. Alex seemed happy about that, so Victoria figured her sister and her husband were going to do something together that only grownups did, probably what Grandpa V. H. still called "unspeakable things," whatever that was. Victoria was okay with not playing, mainly because she was hoping for a chance to ask Clara some questions about the people who had stolen Jack.

She figured there was still a way she could help get her brother back, and since Clara had been with them, she might know stuff that would help her do that, stuff a grownup would never think to ask. Victoria had overheard part of how Daddy had rescued the other girl, and she wanted to hear the rest of it. She also figured if she was sneaky in the right way, she could find out what Daddy, Uncle Chuck, and Aunt Walker were all up to—because she knew they were up to something. After all, they only did that silent talking thing when they were going to go off and be spies but didn't want anybody else to know.

That left Mummy, and Victoria wondered how she fit in with whatever was going on. Mummy used to be a spy, but she was retired now. Sometimes, though, she talked to Grandpa V. H. about things, usually stuff he had sent her to look at so her mum could explain to him what was going on. Victoria didn't understand much of it, but occasionally they would mention a place she'd heard of, like Syria or Iran. Once they talked about some place she'd never heard of, but once she figured out some of the different ways the name she'd heard could be spelled, she was able to look it up and found out it was in Africa.

Mummy never talked to Daddy about those things she did for Grandpa V. H., unless she did it where Victoria and Jack wouldn't hear, and Victoria had wondered why not since Daddy was still a spy and might need to know some of the stuff Mummy worked on. When her mum and grandfather talked about some project in Montreal, though, she figured Daddy just wasn't interested in stuff from Canada. After all, he was an American (something Mummy sometimes teased him about by reminding him the term could, technically, cover anyone from the top of Ellesmere Island—which was in Canada—to the Diego Ramirez Islands in South America), and Grandpa V. H. claimed Americans generally weren't interested in the rest of the world.

Victoria didn't know if that was really true or not because she was an American, too, and she was kind of interested in other places. They didn't travel outside the country very often, and when they did it was usually to Canada or to London when Grandma Ariel was there. She liked London okay, but she preferred Ottawa or back home in Maryland.

Daddy had travelled a lot, she knew. He and Aunt Walker and Uncle Chuck talked about places they had been before, and sometimes those discussions included Mummy, who had been a lot of places, too. Sometimes Victoria looked them up. Daddy got funny when people talked about Prague, which Victoria didn't understand, but since that Carina had been being mean once when she said something about Daddy in Prague, Victoria thought he hadn't had a very good time there. She'd looked at pictures of the city and thought it looked like a pretty place. He didn't like to talk about Rome much, either, though he seemed more sad than irritated when he had to, and when Victoria asked Uncle Chuck why once, he told her that was where Daddy met that Ilsa.

Ilsa was something else Victoria wanted to ask Clara about because despite what she had heard the grownups say about four men, she was pretty sure that Ilsa and the man who had followed them before everyone was stolen had something to do with all of this.

Clara was going to stay with Uncle Devon in a room on the top floor. Victoria had hoped she'd stay in her room, which had twin beds, so she could ask questions. She supposed she understood why Clara's dad would want her where he could see her, but it would make finding out what she knew more difficult. Victoria considered how to separate Clara from Uncle Devon for a while.

It turned out to be easier than she thought it would be. Mummy, Daddy, Uncle Chuck, and Aunt Walker went to Daddy's office with Grandpa V. H. after dinner was cleared away and the kitchen cleaned. Victoria and Clara had been given baths, and Uncle Devon and everyone else settled in to watch television in the living room. They watched basketball (Aunt Julie muttered something about Devon not wanting something that would remind him of Aunt Ellie when Victoria grumbled to her about how boring basketball was). Clara was bored, too, so Victoria asked if she'd like to go play.

Uncle Devon looked like he'd wanted to say no, but he didn't. Victoria led the way to her room upstairs. As they climbed the stairs, she considered what they could play that would let them talk. Clara said she wanted to play a game, so they looked through the ones Victoria had. She had to explain that Mummy had taken the iPad away, so they would have to play a board game when the other girl suggested something on a computer. When Clara asked, she explained how she had used the iPad to talk to Tori and Karen, and because they had talked about Clara and her mum and Jack getting stolen, Victoria's mum had taken it away so she wouldn't do that again.

Clara's brown eyes were round when Victoria finished. Once more, Victoria wondered if she knew her Uncle Chuck and Aunt Walker were spies, and she decided that Clara really didn't. That meant she couldn't tell her, and she couldn't explain that she was spying the way her parents had taught her.

"Why would you do that?" Clara finally asked.

"Because the FBI people and the police didn't find anything," Victoria told her with a shrug, "but nobody thinks to ask kids what they saw."

After she pulled Sorry! from Victoria's bookcase, Clara held it to her chest, her arms wrapped around it as if she were hugging it. "Your dad asked me a lot of questions."

"Dads do that," Victoria said, not sure whether to explain to her what Daddy did for a living or not.

"These weren't dad questions," Clara said quietly. "He asked me the same kinds of questions the FBI agents asked."

Victoria nodded and chewed her lower lip.

"My mom says your dad works for the government."

That was an opening, Victoria thought, but she still knew she wasn't supposed to tell people her dad was a spy. "He's a Marine," she said instead, since that didn't exactly seem to be a secret. She wondered if she could safely say he was working with the FBI since he had been when he rescued Clara.

"Then how come he doesn't wear a uniform?" Clara demanded.

Thinking hard, Victoria tried to figure out an answer. Finally, she just shrugged again. "His job means he doesn't have to all the time. He does sometimes when we're at home and he goes to work."

"How come he works with my uncle Chuck and aunt Sarah?" Clara asked. "They aren't Marines."

That was harder to answer because Victoria didn't know if Clara knew they were spies, too. She just shrugged again.

"Your dad told me to lie to the FBI about Uncle Chuck."

It sounded like an accusation, like Daddy had asked her to do something bad, but Victoria knew that part of Daddy's job was to protect Uncle Chuck, so lying had to be a good thing in this case. "What did he ask you to lie about?"

"The men who kidnapped us said he's the Intersect."

For a large part of her life, Victoria had heard people say that, though sometimes they said Mummy was the Intersect. She'd asked Daddy a couple of times what that was, but it was one of those things he refused to answer. She asked her mum why that was, and Mummy had told her that if he had answered her, he would have had to tell her a lie and that Daddy didn't want to lie to her. Whatever it was, it always worried Mummy. Victoria didn't want to lie to Clara because she needed her to keep talking, so she played dumb. "What's that?"

Clara gave a big sigh and shook her head before she walked over to the small table and chairs in one corner of Victoria's room. She put the game on the table and admitted, "I don't know, but those men who took us think Uncle Chuck and Aunt Mariah got it."

As she puzzled that out, Victoria watched Clara open the box and take the board out, open it on the tabletop, and then turn to her to ask, "Can I be blue?"

Victoria agreed and crossed over to claim red. They finished setting the game up and started to play. Victoria mostly mulled over what Clara had said and tried to think about what to ask her next. Finally, she settled on, "Why do they think Mummy and Uncle Chuck have it?"

Clara shrugged and made her next move. "I don't know. They didn't say. They did say to tell your dad that they would trade Aunt Mariah and Uncle Chuck for us." She scowled. "Your dad took me from the park, though, and now I don't know what will happen."

It was Victoria's turn to play, but she just stared at Clara. "What do you mean, Daddy stole you from the park?"

"Some woman and a couple of men took me to the park by the McDonald's—the one on the way to the Fullerton stop on the El?—and they left me there to give Uncle Casey a message." As Victoria watched, she shivered really hard. "They had me wearing something your dad took off, and then he took me to the FBI office."

"What were you wearing?" she asked, trying to figure out exactly what Daddy had done.

Clara went kind of sick-looking. "They said it was a bomb. Your dad pulled something off it then cut it off and grabbed me."

Victoria had to work hard not to react to that. She couldn't quite picture her dad doing something like that. It was like stuff in the movies Uncle Morgan watched that Mummy would be mad if she knew he had let her see, too.

"I'm glad I'm back with my dad," Clara said, though she looked like she wanted to cry, "but I'm scared for my mom." Before Victoria could ask, she bit her lip like Aunt Ellie did sometimes and then scrubbed a fist over one eye. "They said if I did something wrong, they would kill my mom."

That made Victoria feel sick. If Daddy did something that made the bad men hurt Aunt Ellie, none of them would ever forgive him, even if it had made Clara safe. Victoria was more scared now than she had been. "I'm sure Daddy wouldn't have taken you back if he thought they would really do that."

"I didn't do anything wrong, though," Clara said, and she sounded kind of mad and really upset, like she might cry. "I did exactly what they said—your dad's the one who did what he wasn't supposed to—so maybe they won't hurt my mom."

Then Clara really did start to cry.

Victoria had no idea what to do then. She stared helplessly at Clara and tried to decide whether to go get Uncle Devon or to hug her since Clara's family hugged each other when someone was upset, but she finally decided to start with getting her some Kleenex. After she brought the box to the table, she moved a chair and sat beside Clara like Mummy usually did when Victoria or Jack cried. She didn't hug Clara like Mummy would have, but she said, "I'm really sorry, Clara," and she really meant that even though she was glad Daddy had done what he did.

"Me, too," Clara gulped and then blew her nose. "I just want my mom back."

"My dad will get her back, too," Victoria promised. Clara looked around. Victoria got up and got her waste basket, brought it back over, and watched the other girl drop the used Kleenex inside.

"That's kind of what the lady said."

For a second, Victoria held her breath while Clara tried to stop crying. Lady? "What lady?" she asked.

Clara's voice hitched as she said, "There was a lady there who said she knew Uncle Casey. She said they were old friends. She said your dad would get us all home safely if I gave him something for her. Then she gave me a piece of paper she had written 'Sugar Bear' on."

Victoria screwed her face up in disgust. Who would call her dad that? It was kind of icky, though Daddy was certainly big enough and growly enough to be a grizzly maybe. He wasn't sweet, though. He was really good to the people he loved, but Victoria didn't think of him as sweet. Uncle Chuck was sweet. Daddy cared, and he could be really thoughtful, but he was just kind of too, well, Daddy to be sweet. Then she wondered if the woman who called him that might be one of those women who made Mummy really, really mad because they wanted to be Daddy's girlfriend.

"What did she look like?" Victoria asked. She tried to be like Daddy, tried not to sound like she was mad or happy or anything besides just curious. When he asked questions of other people—except people like Uncle Chuck and Uncle Morgan who seemed to give him a headache when he was trying find out something from them—he was usually kind of polite and acted like he didn't really care what the answer was.

Clara's eyes were kind of red, and so was her nose. She shrugged. "Kind of pretty. She had brown hair and was kind of tall." She screwed her face up a minute like she was trying to remember something difficult. "She talked funny."

"Funny how?" Victoria asked.

"Like she was from somewhere else."

A little impatient, because that could just mean she wasn't from Chicago, Victoria had to take a second so she wouldn't sound mad or anything. "Like where?"

Clara shrugged. "Not from America."

Victoria's eyes narrowed as she thought. "Did you hear her name?"

This time Clara shook her head.

Victoria was pretty sure it was probably that Ilsa woman. "Was she wearing a fur coat?"

Clara nodded.

"Did she say anything else to you?"

"Just that she used to know your dad and to give him the paper."

Thinking hard again, Victoria considered her next question. Clara might think she was accusing her of something sneaky, but Victoria knew she would have done what she

was about to ask if it had been her instead of Clara. "Did you look at the paper?"

The other girl shook her head. "Just the name on the outside."

"Where did they take you after they grabbed you and your mom and Jack?" Victoria asked.

Clara shrugged again. "I got lost after we went on Orchard." She frowned. "We drove past the store toward the city, but then we got on Fullerton and went to Lake Shore Drive." She shrugged once more. "The place they took us was big and dark, though, kind of creepy. They were going to put us all in separate places there, but Mom made them let me and Jack stay with her."

Victoria nodded, hoped she'd keep talking.

"Jack bit one of them first, though."

She could picture that. Jack had bitten her a couple of times when he was mad.

Clara suddenly looked kind of guilty, and Victoria had a feeling there was something more the other girl was afraid to tell her. She waited, since that's what Mummy and Daddy often did, and it usually worked. Victoria didn't do the hard stare and the lifted brow, though. "One of the men hit him for that."

Now Victoria was really mad. She might have slugged Jack once when he bit her hard enough to make her hand bleed a little bit, but she hadn't hit him hard enough to really hurt him. Besides, he was her little brother, so it was kind of different.

"He's okay," Clara said, "but Mom was really mad because his face is swollen and bruised."

Okay, it was really different, because Victoria had punched his upper arm—and she hadn't really hit him very hard at all. Of course, Mummy and Daddy hadn't seen it that way when she had to explain why Jack was screaming. He hadn't even had a bruise because she had just wanted to make it hurt enough he would let go of her hand with his teeth.

She'd been careful not to hit him again, though. Mummy had been pretty clear about why she should never hit a younger kid—especially her brother. Mummy was good at making her feel like the other person, and that usually convinced Victoria to take the lesson not to do it again to heart. Her mum didn't believe in spanking, and so far she hadn't had to do it because Victoria was careful not to make mistakes more than once.

Still, she thought she would hit the man who had hurt Jack if she could figure out which one he was and get close enough to do it. She knew just where to hit him, too, so it would hurt the most. That was one of the first things she learned about getting away from grownups, particularly men grownups.

Just as she was about to ask her next question, Clara's dad came in to take her to bed. Victoria hid her frustration. She said goodnight, though, and then thought hard as she put the game away.

She should have asked Clara more about what she'd seen as they took them away. Maybe she saw some stores or something close to where they had ended up that would help them figure out where Jack and Clara's mom might be. Maybe she could find a way to do that in the morning, she decided when Mummy and Daddy came to put her to bed.

-X-

V. H. followed them, and as Casey unlocked his office door and let the others go in, he wrapped a hand around Riah's upper arm to keep her in the hallway with him. He told her father, "Go ahead and start. I need to talk to my wife first."

Riah kept a small office space of her own off the kitchen. It had been marked a butler's pantry on the renovation plans, and while she had let them build storage shelves and cabinets where she stored linens, china, crystal, and silver, it was where she also did the household books and tracked her investments at the desk tucked neatly into the counter on the far wall. He put her inside the butler's pantry and closed the door, flipped the lock. She hugged her arms to her middle. He felt a little guilty since there were no windows, and he knew the anxiety she already felt was worsened by the enclosed space—not to mention an upset husband blocking the door.

"You're not doing this," he said quietly but firmly, careful not to sound the least bit mad. "We'll take Bartowski, but you're staying out of this."

"I am doing it, John," she countered, a slight waver in her voice making him weigh whether she had doubts or whether the claustrophobia was kicking in.

He shook his head. "It's too great a risk."

"Unlike Chuck," she countered, dropping her arms, "I've been trained for this. I know what I'm getting into, John, so you're not excluding me."

It was a low blow, the reminder that Bartowski still hadn't had formal training as a spy. Because of the unpredictability of the Intersect, they had been unable to put him through the normal courses at the Farm, so Casey and Walker and a lot of on the job training had had to substitute for that. It wasn't perfect, but it actually played to a number of Bartowski's strengths, particularly his ability to creatively improvise.

Before Casey could respond, she added, "There's always been someone there to save him, sometimes Walker, but often you. I don't need saving, can do that myself, but you are going to need someone who can take care of Ellie and Jack while you and your team mop up. I promise to get out of your way as soon as they've been recovered."

Grinding his teeth, he hated that she was right about that, but he was irritated that she ignored the fact that she was part of the deal. If she insisted on following through, it was unlikely she'd be in any position to assist. "They want you, Riah," Casey reminded her. "How do you know they won't simply incapacitate you and rush you out?"

"I don't," she confessed, "but I'm better prepared to deal with that than Chuck is." She stepped closer to him, her face earnest. "I meant what I said earlier, John. This has to end, and that means destroying anything and anyone connected to the Montreal Project. Quinnell is the final piece."

"No," he corrected, "you are, and I refuse to risk you."

"It isn't your decision."

That stopped him. His eyes narrowed. Now was as good a time as ever. "What have you been up to, Riah? Clearly it's more than just keeping house and watching the kids."

Her jaw set and her eyes went stormy, but he really didn't care at the moment that Riah was pissed. Depending on what she had been doing, she endangered them all—and potentially more than a defunct ISI project from her childhood ever had.

"Exactly what I said earlier—some freelance analysis for ISI because it got me what I wanted."

It was important he held onto his temper. He and Riah, like any couple, fought now and then, but they rarely had a no-holds barred fight, and that was mainly down to the fact that they were both good at stepping back from the precipice. Casey was well aware that this one could escalate into exactly that kind of argument if he didn't control it.

She must have been aware as well because she decided to elaborate a little. Her voice was hardly conciliatory. "Dave's retiring at the end of the year from ICOM," Riah explained. Casey knew Dave was the head of that particular department at ISI. "They're having a little trouble hiring his replacement, and since he's been burning off years of untaken vacation, they've been shorthanded. Dad's only sent me the really sensitive stuff Dave would normally handle himself, none of which touches on the United States."

"Care to share any of that with the class?"

It came out cranky, but he really didn't care. She was in violation of an agreement that could end their marriage and potentially endangered his own career—not to mention flirted with a treason charge.

"You know I can't," she said primly, "though I did suggest Dad should pass on a few things." Riah eyed him. "I made clear to Dad from the beginning that I would do nothing that would cause divided loyalties. I insisted I wouldn't do anything that touched on anything you might be involved with or that was about anything happening within the United States or any of its operations. Dad honored that, and so did I."

If V. H. had acted on any of her suggestions he share, that might explain some intel Beckman had grumbled about having to get from allies the past few months.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Casey started to remind her what she had agreed to, but she beat him to it. "I know this is a very sticky gray area, John, but they needed me, and it's proven to have what I've come to believe is a very important utility. This has to end. This whole Montreal Project is a distraction at best and potentially an international incident at worst. It keeps coming up, and one of these days it might become scarily public in ways that damage Canada and your own government, not to mention our family. It has put our children in jeopardy, and I won't let it do so any longer."

"There are ways to do that without risking your life."

Her smile was bitter. She shook her head sadly. "No, John. I think we have to play out this particular roll of the dice. Quinnell will vanish if Chuck's the only prize you bring him. He's not interested in the Intersect: he's interested in me."

Casey studied her, and after nearly eight years of marriage, he could tell there was something she wasn't telling him. "You claim you don't work, so why would he want you?"

She rolled her lower lip between her teeth and worried at it a moment. Riah was obviously debating whether or not to tell him, and that stung a little. Except for state secrets, she had largely told him everything since they had been married, and more than once she had shared things that would horrify her father if he ever found out. This, though, was as much personal as it was about the job, and Casey didn't like that she actually considered continuing to conceal what she knew, especially when it affected not only him but Victoria and Jack.

After several long moments, Riah sighed and said, "As I've been cleaning ISI's files of any mention of this, I've come across some related documents. They aren't coded, but they're surprisingly vague. There was more than a rudimentary Intersect involved, but I'm not entirely sure what, exactly, that more was yet. I need Quinnell's pieces of the puzzle for that. Until then, we have to assume there's something deeper, something untapped, and it's that he's after."

Over and over again as the Montreal Project had haunted them, Casey had been told he didn't know what he'd married. Laurence had made her sound like a human IED, and even the others who followed him had implied that she was more weapon than anything else. He'd never seen the slightest bit of evidence that that could be remotely true. Simply putting it behind her, out of sight out of mind, had never been enough to make any interested parties lose all interest, though. It never went away, was never far from her thoughts or those of the occasional idiots who had gone after her in the early days. After things settled and she quit being a spy, it had mostly returned to the background, only occasionally triggered any interest.

Even Casey recognized it was time to more thoroughly clean the operation than had been done thirty years before. She was also right about her skill set, but that didn't mean she could carry through, especially since Jack was involved. On the one hand, she performed well under pressure, and he had always marveled at her ability to compartmentalize to get the job done. On the other, that instability always lurked under the surface, took its toll.

Christ, he was going to give in, and he was pretty sure he absolutely shouldn't. That infernal itch in the back of his head said this would end it all just as she claimed, but it also said it would do so in ways from which none of them could fully recover.

V. H. could stop this. One call to Beckman would stop it. Casey knew, though, that if he took that route, his wife would never forgive him. Doing so would be admitting he was afraid of the outcome, and Riah would see it as he didn't trust her after all. He also knew that neither V. H. nor Beckman would stop it since each had something to gain by pulling the final plug on the Montreal Project. There was also Jack to consider. Riah was right that she would be the one person on the operation who could make their son her priority—after the threat to her had been dealt with. Casey knew she would trust him to get Quinnell and get what she needed.

"You stop working for ISI when this is done."

Her sad smile and soundless little snort told him she recognized that as a question rather than an order. He'd phrased it carefully, dropped the will because to issue an order made it far more likely she'd insist harder, play dirty to get her way. She nodded. "I'm finished with the spy business the second it finishes with me and mine."

His eyes narrowed. Casey could hear seven kinds of out in that sentence, but he decided to take it at face value. "Okay."

Riah stood a little straighter and gave a firm nod.

Drawing in a deep breath, he studied her. Agreement made, she looked calmer than she had since Jack was taken, but he could still read the worry and the fear in her eyes. Casey worried that those might override her training when this went down, that Riah might be walking into something she really couldn't handle, and he wasn't sure he wanted the responsibility for allowing her to take the risk.

It would be the coward's way out, he supposed, to remind her that Victoria needed her as well, but he knew his wife well enough to know that Riah would remind him their daughter was surrounded by family who would make sure she was alright. He'd never been above emotionally manipulating Bartowski, but he'd never really done it to his wife—and he wasn't going to start now.

"My rules," he warned, "and you follow them. You're just part of the team for this, understood?" Riah nodded and stepped closer. Casey wrapped his arms around her and admitted, "I really don't want you to do this."

She reached up and pulled him down to kiss him. "And I love you for letting me anyway."

Apparently, Riah wasn't above manipulating him, he thought as he let her do so.

They went upstairs to put their daughter to bed after stopping by his office to tell the others they'd join them when they'd done that. Victoria was unusually subdued, so Casey wondered what she was plotting now. As they tucked her in, he told her as he had done the night before, "Don't."

She grimaced but nodded. He hoped she'd obey this time.

Forrest was in the hallway as they walked off the stairs and headed back to Casey's office. The woman looked like she always did, blank face with a hint of arrogance. She was good at what she did, but even Casey held a slight grudge over the whole 49b thing with Walker.

"Colonel," she said.

"Forrest," he returned, and Riah's hand tightened a little on his. From the way her hand had kind of twitched, he had a feeling she was a little intimidated by the other woman, which surprised him. It also made him wonder if there had been an incident between the two he should know about.

"Perimeter's secure," she informed him, but he knew that or he'd have already heard otherwise. "I checked into Wentworth. He doesn't exist."

Watching Forrest shift uneasily, as if she were somehow at fault for this, made Casey wonder if he'd ever been that way. Forrest was damn good at her job, but she seemed to only be the job. He wondered if her psych evals had ever said she needed a life outside of work. Then he realized he might be making assumptions based on those parts of himself he recognized in her. He knew very little about the woman except her record and what he'd picked up in their two encounters—the 49b and this job.

Still, it was tempting to point out Wentworth did exist since Casey and Victoria had both seen him, but instead he simply asked, "Did the FBI trace the car?"

"Stolen plate."

He nodded, not really surprised, though he briefly thought Bridges and his men were learning.

There was something expectant in the agent's stance. Casey figured she expected to be informed of any operation they might undertake. Since he wasn't cleared to run it, didn't know where it would be executed yet, he asked, "Where are you staying?"

"General Beckman put me up in an area hotel," she said, "but I've got the night watch here tonight. The General is sending another agent, Landers, for the day."

Loren Landers was a good man, so Casey nodded. "I'll see you in the morning, then, unless something comes up."

Forrest nodded and turned to walk away.

Riah's hand relaxed in his once more as they watched the other woman disappear into the living room. He wondered if Forrest knew who was on the other side of the door next to which he and Riah stood and that they were going to plan an operation when Casey and his wife joined them. He decided Forrest would have asked to be cut in if she had. He dropped a kiss on Riah's mouth, and then they entered his office.

V. H. had broken out the scotch, he saw, though only his father-in-law was drinking it. Bartowski prowled the room, burning off some of that ever-present nervous energy of his, and Walker waited in a chair near Casey's desk. Keeping Riah's hand in his, he walked her to the desk and sat her in his chair. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out the floorplan Clara had brought him.

Riah grimaced at the name written on the outside, but she said nothing. She unfolded it and studied it. After several moments, she said, "I know this building."

Casey focused on her, frowned, wondered how.

"Mum would be able to tell you where it is," she told him as she met his eyes.

"How?"

"I went there once with my grandfather—her father—when I was young. I remember it because of that weird little addition with the asterisk halls. It was a factory, and that was where the offices were." She looked at him. "I think my grandfather might have owned it."

By then V. H. was standing behind her looking at the floorplan, and Walker and Bartowski were to the side. Bartowski had a flash. "It's in Northbrook."

"Near Deerfield," Riah added. "I remember now." She waved a hand at Casey's computer. "May I?"

He gave the others a look that told them to move, and reached around his wife to log in. She went immediately to village records for Northbrook, and after several moments, managed to find an address for the building and a name for its owner: Win Bridges. Casey leaned down and gave her a soft kiss below her ear. "You're explaining how Ilsa gave you that later," she warned softly.

Smiling, he kissed her temple and straightened. He was completely innocent there, after all. He pulled the chair back and took her hand, helped her stand and took her seat. He called Beckman.

Careful not to tell his boss he had dealt Riah in, he ran down what they knew and what he wanted. He got his tactical team and the equipment he needed, and once she had disconnected, he sat down to strategize with Walker, V. H. and Riah. Bartowski occasionally contributed, but this was not his particular forte, so the younger man mostly listened for once. That was probably because Casey wasn't telling him he couldn't be involved.

Riah took the drawing and pointed to the end of one of the wedges in the oddly shaped addition. "I'd look here. If I remember correctly, it was the manager's office, so the largest space, and there's a bathroom within it. Everything Ellie and Jack would need would be in that one space without the risk of moving them back and forth."

"Why would taking them to a bathroom pose a risk?" Bartowski asked, and Casey noticed everyone gave him some form of the Moron look. "Escape. Right."

"There's a lot of wasted space in this part of the building," she said, then clarified by adding, "because of the design angles," when it had been obvious Bartowski was going to ask how. "You'll need to see the actual blueprints to know what you're really getting into."

"I can do that," and Bartowski sat down at the computer and went to work, which left the people who understood logistics to plan. Casey relaxed a little with the kid otherwise occupied.

"There's no way to get the element of surprise," Walker observed as she studied the drawing Clara had given Casey.

V. H. offered, "Then it's probably better to have the kind of numbers that mean you can just bulldoze your way through." He offered an ISI team as support. Casey hesitated, but then he decided to accept, if for no other reason than if he had to contain anything Riah discovered, then having people there whose secrets might be exposed could assist in making sure no one else got them.

It was operationally a nightmare, Casey conceded, but they would have to make it work.

"Of course, we need to know they're still there," Riah said, and for a second Casey wondered what she meant.

That's when Casey realized it was edging on eleven p.m. and there had been no call.