(For disclaimers, see Chapter 1, please.)

CHAPTER 3:

Once downstairs Martin was met by Danny who was holding out his coat to him, Vivian, Elena and Sam were lined up behind him and all four had a look of, "Don't even think about arguing with us." Martin didn't argue. He took the coat Danny offered him and followed his friend out of the office, to his car and behaved himself on the way to the police station to give a formal statement and after that, to the doctor's office.

Back at the office the three women and Jack exchanged sad looks and Jack took them into his office to brief them on what had transpired in Van Doren's. All felt badly for their colleague and friend but knew that besides being there for when things went south there was little they could do. Vivian had made it clear when she spoke to the assistant at Martin's doctor's office that he was not expected back at work today and that the stubborn man would take the order better from a medical professional than any of them. She had been assured the doctor would make it clear.

On the drive to the doctor's office Danny glanced at his friend a couple of times, but Martin stayed quiet and stared straight ahead. Every few minutes Martin's hand would stray to his throat and gently massage the area a bit. Danny winced in sympathy.

Danny thumbed through a couple of magazines while waiting for Martin's doctor to finish with him. When Martin reappeared, he held a piece of paper with instructions for rest, aspirin and loose fitting collars for a couple of days. As they headed out to the car Martin looked at Danny and said, "I told you it was no big deal."

"Yeah, well, better safe than sorry. Come on, I'll take you home. You can take your car home tomorrow. I'll pick you up in the morning and take you in."

Danny ignored the scowl Martin sent his way and just grinned as he kept his eyes on the traffic in front of him. A little while later he pulled up in front of Martin's building and double parked with his flashers on. Martin unclipped his seat belt and then sat there. His mouth opened and he took a breath to speak and stopped. Danny watched and waited. He didn't know what had happened in Van Doren's office that morning but he knew it had to be bad judging from Martin's pallor when he had reappeared and the hard set to Jack's jaw. He sat quietly hoping Martin would open up a little.

"The last words my father said to me were, "Martin, you've disappointed me. I don't even know you."

Danny was floored. "What?"

For once, the usual talkative agent, always ready with a glib reply was speechless.

"When he came to New York right before…before he died, we went to lunch before he had to catch a plane back to DC. He had an envelope waiting at the table. In it were pictures. Somehow he had surveillance photos of me at an NA meeting.

"How did he…" Danny was shocked. He knew Victor was powerful and strict and had always taken a very hard stance on everything Martin did but he never imagined this. "Was he having you followed?"

Martin made a noise almost that started as a growl, but it ended up as more of a squeak on account of his stressed vocal chords. "I asked him that very question. He almost shouted across the table before he remembered we were in a public place. He wanted to know how I could accuse him of following him and then told me not to change the subject. I responded by asking how did he expect me to take it when he was throwing 8x10 photos of me obviously taken in secret." Martin kept talking and his mind flicked back to the last conversation he had had with his father. He remembered it as if it were moments ago…

Martin walked into the restaurant right at 1:00 p.m. He scanned the room and saw his father, ram rod straight in his chair sipping from a glass of ice water. He headed over to the table, nodding at the hostess as she started to assist him; she smiled and returned to what she was doing. Martin was not necessarily looking forward to lunch with his father, nor was he dreading it as in the past. Since Martin's shooting they had managed to find a little bit of common ground and, when they managed to find time to get together, it wasn't as stilted and uncomfortable as in the past, but they had a long way to go.

"Hi, dad." Martin greeted his father as he shrugged out of his coat and slipped easily into the chair across from him.

"Martin." Martin sat back and studied his father's face at the cold biting tone that met his greeting. He hadn't expected this. He thought they were past these moments and as he hadn't been involved in the death of any foreign national, or tried questioning any senator or any other political figure in anything remotely resembling an investigation he couldn't imagine what would have his father take that tone with him.

"Is there something wrong?"

In response his father slid a large manila envelope across the table to him. Martin stared at it confused and then looked up at his father. Just then the waiter approached, Martin started to speak only to be interrupted by Victor.

"Give us a few minutes. We won't be staying for lunch." With that Victor gave the waiter a $20.00 bill adding, "For the inconvenience. We'll be gone shortly." The man nodded simultaneously confused and happy at receiving a $20.00 tip for bringing the man a glass of water.

"Dad, I don't know…"

"Just open it."

Confused and wary, Martin undid the clasps and looked inside. Looking up at his father once again he upended the envelope, several 8x10 black and white photographs slid out onto the table. Martin picked them up and started looking through them. He felt a chill start at the base of his spine, speed quickly up his neck and nearly stand his hair on end as it reached his scalp. Despite the chill that occurred, his hands were sweaty and he felt a flush on his skin. Instantly he recognized the photos as having been taken a few days earlier at an NA meeting. Incidentally, it was the same meeting where he had finally rallied his courage and shared his story.

He had been nervous as anyone would be to share his story but more so because he hadn't gotten hooked on meds due to a tough lifestyle or a rough childhood. He had been shot, gotten off the meds the first time without incident only to be reinjured and that's when they had gotten him. He wasn't sure his story would be of any help to anyone around him and was certain they would all be thinking "Who is this schmuck up there kidding with his supposed hard luck story. I can't relate to him. How is this supposed to help me?"

Ashamed at his pathetic excuse for using pain meds he had almost stopped talking at one point until he saw someone in the audience leaning forward as if hanging on to his every word. In that moment he remembered something the stock broker has said, the one he and Danny had encountered when searching for Danny's brother Rafie a few weeks before Dornvald ambushed them on a dark street and set the wheels in motion to change Martin's life. "Drugs, the great social equalizer." He realized that this wasn't so much about him right now as it was about showing others how to not be afraid and that anybody can be affected.

Before he knew it he was done. People were saying thank you and he sat down. Later as the meeting ended and people were milling around sipping coffee his sponsor had appeared at his elbow and congratulated him.

"See, I told you, Martin. You'd know when the time was right to talk about your story."

Martin remembered being surprised to see him there. "How did you know tonight would be the night?"

"I didn't; neither did you. It just happens. One moment you're sitting there, the next moment you raise your arm and then off you go and you step out. I needed a meeting tonight and came here. Sometimes it's fate. Sometimes it's luck. I'm glad I was here."

"Me too. Thanks."

"No trouble. Give me a call in a day or so. We'll get together."

Martin remembered feeling just a little lighter as he headed home from that meeting that night. Now, as he held the pictures in his hands he felt a heavy weight hit him as he looked up and met his father's hard stare straight on.

"How long have you been having me followed?"

"Martin, don't be foolish. I haven't been having you followed but somebody has been following you. These photos were delivered by an anonymous courier two days ago. My God! Who else knows? Do you know what this could mean if this were to leak out. Do you know what it would do to your mother, to me? It's obvious you've already tossed aside your own gifts and chances in politics but you have a huge future in the Bureau but not if this gets out. How long have you been a drug addict? How could you do this to me, to your mother? I…I don't even know you…I'm ashamed of you. You've disappointed me."

"Disappointed…what make you think this is about you?"

"I don't want to talk about this here."

"Well then why did you bring it up? Why did you invite me here and then throw this at me if you didn't want to talk about it?"

"I want you to fix this. I want you to stop going to these meetings. Whatever problem you have can be fixed quietly without this…this…going to meetings and whatever it is you do there. Don't embarrass me anymore. Let's just hope whoever has these photos doesn't go anywhere with them but, if they do show up somewhere, you can always say you were doing surveillance or background research for a case anything but…Fix it."

With that Victor pushed his chair back from the table. Standing up he fixed Martin once more with his stare. "You've disappointed me. I'm ashamed. I don't even know you." Grabbing his coat from the back of his chair Victor walked out without a backward glance at his son and left the restaurant. Martin sat at the table for another few minutes in stunned silence, staring at the pictures on the table. He looked at the photo that had him centered in the frame receiving his six month tag.

He had been strangely proud and confused at that moment although the photo didn't reflect those emotions. He remembered being proud because there had been a time right before Sam confronted him that he just didn't know what was going on in his life or where he was going and then he was proud because he seemed to be back on track. He was also a bit confused that night mostly because of how proud he felt at that moment. Strange that a little keepsake could mean that much to him but the truth was 'drugs were the great social equalizer' and he kind of liked that part of his life that sent him out just as Martin to share, support, be supported and to not judge or be judged.

Martin wasn't certain how long he had sat there but the soft clearing of a throat caused him to look up. The hostess was hovering just to the side and he shook himself mentally thinking they would probably like to seat this table with someone who would actually order. He collected the photos and slid them into the envelope and then, carrying his coat, he headed out into the New York City afternoon…

Danny sat quietly the whole time Martin was reciting the encounter. Martin didn't usually share such private moments or thoughts with anyone, at least Danny never knew him to do so but this time Martin just continued on spilling every word and allowing the hurt, anger, pain and frustration to color his voice. Danny listened and when Martin was done he continued to sit quietly. He didn't have any magic words and figured Martin didn't want to hear any platitudes. He was about to speak when Martin moved opening the car door and sliding out quickly.

"Martin." Danny leaned across the seat as Martin dipped his head back into the car.

"Someone murdered them."

Shocked Danny could only sit and stare. Whatever he had been going to say fled his mind.

"That's what the meeting was about in Van Doren's office this morning. New evidence has come to light; the Virginia State Police and the FBI are officially labeling it a homicide."

Martin turned and headed into his apartment building. Stunned, Danny could only watch him go.

TBC…