You and I
February 23, 2000
Kiev, Presidential Building
1300 hours local time
Cobra Commander walked into Destro's office. "Bravo, Destro. I sincerely applaud you." He said as he began clapping.
"I appreciate the well-wishes, Commander, but I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about." Destro replied.
Cobra Commander handed Destro the paper. "There was a car crash late last night with two passengers dead. Our man confirms that the charred bodies were that of Lady Jaye and some local that was working with her. Naturally they had to cover up the real identities, but he says it's them."
"Thank you, Commander, but I can read Ukrainian." He scanned the article and then said, "I'd like to take credit for this, but I can't."
"What? Are you telling me they killed themselves on their own?" Cobra Commander asked.
"I'm just telling you I didn't arrange it." Destro answered.
"Either way we have one less headache to worry about." Cobra Commander replied as he took a seat on the leather couch in Destro's office "So who cares how it happened?"
Destro frowned as he rescanned the article. "I don't like it. It's too much of a coincidence. Maybe we should call back Zartan and his goons"
"Too late. I already sent them out, and they're under strict radio silence. I don't want them affiliated with us in case they screw this up."
Destro laughed. "Zartan? Screw something up? You must be joking." He said sarcastically. Then he turned serious, "That is the exact reason, Commander that you should call off this little mission."
"No. I want the Joes taken care of. They have no right to be sneaking around in my country." Commander said ending the conversation. "Shouldn't you be heading to Moscow to meet with Putin, soon?"
"I was in the middle of packing when you came in. I hope you don't mind, but the Baroness will be accompanying me, as my advisor."
Cobra Commander shook his head. "Even after all these years, I still don't know what you see in her."
"To each his own. Now, commander if you'll excuse me, I have to finish up here." Destro said as he stood up and walked to the door. He then opened the door as a hint to the commander.
Cobra Commander remained seated for a moment. "One more thing, Destro. I think it's better if Yelchichev stays here."
Destro crossed his arms and stared down at the commander. "He's already made a commitment to attend this summit. Are you afraid to let your lap dog out of your sight?"
"Shouldn't I be?" The commander asked. "I don't want that fool out on his own making decisions for us. If you go alone you show Putin and the rest of the world who really is in charge here."
Destro thought about it for a moment before replying, "Alright. I'll talk to Olexander when I am done here."
Cobra Commander nodded as he rose from the couch. "Good. Don't forget to tell Putin about the olive branch, and the consequences of him not accepting it."
"I know, Commander, I know." Destro replied and closed the door behind Cobra Commander.
CIA Safe House, Kirovohrad
1330 hours local time
After leaving Dial-Tone, Flint locked himself in the bedroom he was using. He sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. Each time the phrase 'She was killed in a car accident' went through his mind, he felt a cold fist hit his stomach, and knives go through his heart. The only woman that he had ever really loved was now dead.
Part of him couldn't believe it. Just as he had began hoping that they could try again to make their relationship work. He thought back to his last reconciliation attempt; the night that he went to see her after one of her performances. It was about a year after they had broken up. He was getting ready to leave for Russia on his first real assignment, and he had gotten a couple of days off to put his affairs in order. He decided to go find her and say goodbye. After the show, he flagged down, Mark, her producer, and asked if he could go see her. Mark had remembered him, and got him cleared to go on back.
He found her laughing with another woman, but she suddenly stopped and went pale as she looked at him. She quickly got up and went to him.
"Hello, Dash. This is quite a surprise." She was doing her best to look composed, but he could tell that she was very surprised to see him.
"I had a couple of days off, and I thought I'd stop by and see you. I got these flowers for you." He handed her a bouquet of roses.
She took the flowers. "Thank you, that was very sweet." She noticed her friends grinning at her, "Let's go somewhere more private." Since it was a small play, there were no private dressing rooms, so she debated where to take him. "Um, it's hard to get privacy here. We could go out somewhere, or back to my apartment, it's within walking distance."
"Your apartment would be fine." Flint replied, and hoped he didn't sound too anxious. This trip had been totally spur of the moment. He decided to go to New York to see if he could still track her down. He went to her apartment that he remembered from the Christmas two years ago, but she wasn't at home. He didn't want to spend all day waiting in front of her door, so he started wandering the streets. He had picked up a copy of the Village Voice, which had an advertisement for her current play. When he saw her name, he had decided it was fate to find her again. He didn't know what he had expected from this meeting. They hadn't even spoken in a year. He was trying to tell himself that his intentions were noble, and not just the fact that he was bored and horny.
"Okay. Let me just get my coat." She said and walked back to the dressing room she was using.
"You were wonderful, tonight. I'm still amazed every time I see you how talented you are. I don't know why you haven't made Broadway yet," Flint commented.
Lady Jaye laughed. "Dash, I'm not that good. But thanks for the positive review. I'm taking a chance with this play, so hopefully the critics will be as generous. So, tell me, how's the CIA?"
"I don't really know yet. I'm still in training. However, I leave on my first assignment next week. They've been drilling into my head all this information. It's so repetitive, and sometimes I wonder if they're training me too hard." Flint paused. He couldn't really articulate his concerns, "I'm sure it's nothing, just pre-assignment jitters."
"I'm sure it'll be fine. You're the most capable military man I know."
"Well, I don't know how good of an agent I'll be." Flint replied. "Anyway, I didn't come here to talk about my jitters."
Lady Jaye decided to be blunt, "Why did you come here Dash?" They had now reached her apartment building and were walking up the stairs to her apartment.
"To be honest, I really don't know. I got my time off, and it just occurred to me to come up here. I guess I wanted to say goodbye. We didn't exactly leave too amicably the last time."
She unlocked her apartment and invited him in. She went straight to the refrigerator and grabbed two beers. "No we didn't. Where are you being sent?"
Flint shook his head, "I can't tell you that. Pretty much everything I do now is top-secret, and you don't have that clearance any more."
He could tell that the comment really irked her. She immediately turned defensive. "I guess that means we have nothing to talk about. You hate my work, and I'm not cleared to hear about yours. So, thanks for stopping by, and good luck next week."
"Alison, don't. Please don't throw me out. I have the next two days off, I was hoping to spend it with you."
"Why? So we could spend it screaming at each other? Or are you hoping for one last lay before you go off never to be seen again?"
Now Flint was getting equally aggravated, "It's good to see you're the same pleasant human being. You know what, forget I came by, I'm sorry to inconvenience you." He then walked out of the apartment.
He had almost made it to the main entrance, when he heard her call out for him. "Dash! Wait! I'm sorry." At first he ignored her and continued walking. She continued after him and grabbed his arm, "Please. Don't go like this. I'm sorry for being such a bitch."
"Alison? Are you all right? Who is this strange man?" Flint felt a strange sense of deja-vu. The same nosy neighbor of Alison's that he had met during Christmas two years ago had come out into the hallway to find out what was going on.
Lady Jaye fought to restrain a smile. She then turned to the neighbor, 'Yes, Mrs. Potts, I'm fine. Remember Dashiell? He's my fiancé, uh ex technically, but you met him a couple of Christmases ago."
"Oh yes. Now I remember." Mrs. Potts frowned at Flint, "Just keep the noise to a minimum, please. It is very late." She then retreated back inside.
Flint looked at Lady Jaye and the two burst out laughing. "Do you get that all the time, or only when I'm here?" he asked.
"All the Goddamn time." She lowered her voice, "I can't do a thing without her knowing about it. So, do you want to come back in?"
He nodded. Once inside she said, "Can we start this over? I guess I'm still insecure about not taking the CIA's offer. Even though I'm so happy with what I'm doing, I still wonder if I made the right choice."
"You can still join up. I know they - we still want you," Flint replied. He meant that last part as a double entendre, and hoped she would pick up on it. Even with all of the ugly fights they had, he knew he still loved her, and still found her so attractive. He wondered how he could feel this strongly about her, and still not make a relationship work.
She took a long swig of her beer. "I can't now. I'm committed to the play. Maybe in a few months."
Flint nodded, and decided to drop the matter. He really didn't want to start another fight, and this topic always got them going. Instead, they talked about other matters for a couple of hours. They finished off the six-pack that she had in her refrigerator, and were feeling pretty relaxed with each other. They were sitting on the couch, and as the night went on they had moved closer together, like their feelings were literally physically attracting them to each other. Flint was having a great time, however, in spite of himself, he started yawning.
Lady Jaye, who was in the middle of a story, suddenly stopped and looked at the time. It was after 2 in the morning. "Oh, Dash, I didn't realize how late it was. I've turned into a night owl, with all these evening performances. It's usually three O'clock before I wind down, but you must be exhausted."
He was, but he didn't want to admit it, and have the night end. He had booked a hotel room nearby, but it was the last place he wanted to be tonight. "No, really, I'm fine."
She looked at him, "Dash, you can barely keep your eyes open. Do you have a place to stay tonight?"
He decided to tell a little white lie on this issue. Earlier, he may have tried to convince himself that he didn't come here looking for sex, but now he knew that he was. It had been a very long year for him. Training to be a CIA agent is not exactly the type of work that would help you find a girlfriend. Besides one ill-fated attempt when they first broke up, he had not been with any other woman. "No. This trip was very spur of the moment."
She smiled when she heard that. "You're more than welcome to crash here. I have the couch or my bed."
Flint had to restrain himself from jumping at the offer of her bed. He wanted to find what her intentions were first. "I guess the question is, where do you want me to sleep?"
She paused a moment and then said, "Well, this couch is really uncomfortable. I've fallen asleep here a couple of nights, and I've woken up with horrible back pains. And since this wouldn't be the first time we slept together, I know that you make a great bedmate."
Flint once again had to restrain himself from jumping her. She must be pretty tipsy or else she was taking extreme pleasure in torturing him. He had his question answered a few minutes later, when after excusing herself, she returned wearing one of the nightgowns he had bought for her a couple of years ago.
"Do you remember when you got this for me?" she asked seductively.
"You bet I do. I also remember that you didn't have it on for long."
She laughed, "You're right. In fact I don't think any of the times that I put it on, I wore it for very long."
He went to her, "It always made me want you so bad. And I have to tell you, nothing's changed." He finally allowed himself to stop holding back and he kissed her hard.
She kissed him equally hard in return. "Dash, I've missed you so much." He lifted her up and carried her into her bedroom. The sex that followed was one of the most intense sessions the two had ever shared.
They spent the rest of the night lying in each other arms. Every so often one would speak, but most of the night they were silent, just enjoying each other's company. Neither one wanted to ask the question that was running through their minds: 'What does this mean?' Both were afraid to jinx the moment. Just before dawn, they made love again and finally fell asleep.
Flint woke up first, and as he lay there he watched her sleep. He couldn't help but think that this is what he should have been doing every morning for the past year. She began to stir, and when she opened her eyes, he smiled at her and kissed her.
"So it wasn't a dream," she said sleepily.
"Nope, I'm really here whether you like it or not," he said.
"Oh, I definitely like it."
He hugged her tight, and then decided that this was the time to breach the subject on what exactly the implications of this were. "Alison, I was doing a lot of thinking earlier this morning. Remember how you said last night that you regretted your decision with the CIA? Well, like I said, it's not too late. Come back with me. We can still get you into the program. Obviously, you won't be able to come out with me right away, but I'm sure I could hurry along your training…"
She sat up in bed. "Whoa, Dash. Wait a minute. I never said I regretted my decision. Plus, I told you, I can't just drop out of the play. I made a commitment."
"But it's only a play. They could easily get someone to replace you." He honestly didn't believe how important this was to her.
Anger flashed in her eyes, "ONLY a play? That's how you feel about my life's work? I'm glad the truth is finally coming out, it helps me understand all this better. How would you feel if I asked you to give up your mid-life crisis and get a real job?"
"Alison, don't be ridiculous. You know I can't just get up and quit, I've spent too much time working on this."
"What the hell do you think I've been doing? This isn't easy either. I've worked awfully hard myself to get to this position, and I'm not going to throw it all away for no good reason." She instantly regretted the last words. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way."
"Yes you did. And I guess this means that nothing's changed."
Lady Jaye was about to reply, but the phone rang. She talked into the receiver for a couple of minutes and then hung up. "That was Mark. Silvia was supposed to do today's matinee, but she got the flu. I have to take her place."
"Can't they get someone else? We're in the middle of something here," Flint said. Now he was really annoyed that she was running out on him.
"I'm sorry, I'm the understudy for today's show so I have to go. The performance is at one and I'll be back by four. Maybe once we calm down, we could talk about this a little more civilly."
"There's nothing to talk about. You won't budge on the issue."
"Why is it that I have to be the one to give up what I want?" She then shook her head. "I'm not doing this, I have to get to the theater. I'll be back by four."
"Well, at least this time you're not leaving for some mystery man." He mumbled.
"Excuse me?" She asked as turned on him.
"The last time I was here the same thing happened. Phone rang, mystery man Jason was on the line and you took off on some top-secret mission. You can't by any chance be ready to explain that now, can you?"
Her eyes flashed with anger for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak, but then looked at the clock. "Not right now. Just give me until later this afternoon, and I can tell you everything you want to know."
She walked out of the bedroom and he called after her, "Alison if you leave now, I'm not going to wait for you. If you leave, I'm leaving too."
She looked at him with hurt in her eyes and said, "Fine. Do what you have to do." She then left the apartment.
Flint stood there staring at the closed door. He then picked up his shoe and threw it at the door. He meant what he had said, so he got dressed. When he put on his jacket, he remembered the item that he had brought with him. He took out the little box, and thought about the plan he had if things had gone differently between him and Lady Jaye. He went to put it back in his coat, but decided to leave it for her anyway. He found a piece of paper, and taking a few minutes to choose his words carefully wrote her an honest note from his heart. He then placed the box and paper on the nightstand by the bed. He looked at it once more, shook his head, and then left her apartment.
The tears that he had been holding back for so long began to flow. That night had been so perfect, but he had ruined it. What if he had just kept his stupid mouth shut? His whole relationship with her had been a bunch of what ifs: What if he had never taken the CIA job? What if he had given up the CIA position when he saw her again? What if he hadn't been so stubborn and walked out of her apartment? What if Hawk had never sent her out here in the first place? The last one was the only one he could answer. She would still be alive and he wouldn't be here sobbing over how he had lost his chance with her forever.
A knock on the door jarred him back to reality. Dial-Tone called through the door "Flint?"
Flint opened the door in a rush. "What?"
"Ummm… I know how much you care, uh, cared, for Lady Jaye and I just wanted to make sure you were all right," Dial-Tone stammered.
"I'm fucking terrific. In fact I'm on top of the Goddamn world. Thanks for asking." He started to close the door, but suddenly decided he really needed to get out of the house. He pushed passed Dial-Tone.
"Flint, where are you going?"
"I need some air. I'm taking the car." He replied as he grabbed the car keys off of the counter. He then slammed the door shut behind him and sped away in the car.
Pentagon, Washington DC
0830 hours, local time (1530 hours, Kiev)
Hawk yawned and drained the last of his coffee. He had lost track of how many cups he already drank this morning. In the civilian world, the workday was just beginning. He, however, had been at his desk a good three hours.
He stood up and stretched. It was time for a ten-minute break. He walked out into the hallway and past Mainframe's desk. Mainframe was on the phone and looked grim. "Sure, Dial-Tone. He's right here in fact." Mainframe pressed the hold button and replaced the phone. "Hawk, it's Dial-Tone. I'm afraid he has some bad news."
"Thanks, Mainframe. I'll take it in my office." He replied with a knot in his stomach. He wondered how bad the news was.
He found out a few minutes later that it was pretty bad. Dial-Tone had just finished telling him the news of Lady Jaye's car crash.
"They are sure it was her?" He asked.
"Yes, sir. The CIA made a positive identification." Dial-Tone answered.
He fought to keep his personal feelings under control while he figured out the impact it would have on the mission. "Who knows about this?" He asked.
"Just you, me and Flint." Dial-Tone said and then paused, "And, sir, Flint's taken the news rather hard."
I bet he has. "Where is he now?" Hawk asked.
"That's just it Hawk, I don't know. He left a couple of hours ago in a rage, and hasn't been back since."
Shit. Hawk thought. The last thing I need is for him to fall apart. "I'm sure he'll be back. Flint's an emotional man, and this is a tough blow for him, but he still is a highly trained soldier. Just give him some time to work through his grief. Keep to your plan, and I'll work on replacing Lady Jaye." After Dial-Tone's response of "Yes, sir." Hawk continued, "And keep an eye on Flint. If you don't think he can handle this, let me know."
Dial-Tone again answered with a "Yes, sir" and then the connection was broken. Hawk sat quietly at his desk deep in thought. He felt that while General of the Joes, he had treated all of his men with the same respect. Granted there were one or two that had frustrated the hell out of him, but for the most part he had liked all of them. There were also a select few that he hat put in a higher category. He had worked a lot with Lady Jaye, her clerical duties kept her in close contact with all of the command team, and he had placed her in that group. Her death was a terrible tragedy, and it saddened him to think she was truly gone. Standard protocol required him to make a call to the next of kin, but this situation was not standard. He would have to wait until the completion of the mission before he made any phone calls to her family. The first phone call he is going to make is to Bellows' office. There is no reason why he should be getting this news from one of his men in the field.
His thoughts then went to Flint. Hawk had tried to sound confident to Dial-Tone when he told him that Flint would pull through this. However, in reality, he wasn't totally convinced of that fact. He remembered a few missions when Flint's emotions had gotten the better of him. He wasn't sure what had happened between Flint and Lady Jaye during the down time. He had heard the rumors floating around HQ the night the Joes returned, but he never had gotten a definite story. No matter what the story was he knew that Flint was surely suffering now.
Ukraine Countryside
1600 hours, local time
Flint had been driving aimlessly for over two hours. The tears had started up again, and he had been ashamed to face anyone. He found a deserted stretch of road that he kept driving up and down on. Part of him was wondering if he was trying to will on himself the same fate as Lady Jaye. Right now the idea of having the car skid out of control was appealing, since it would take him away from the anguish he was in now. He then had a thought and turning his cell phone on he called Mary. He had kept it off the whole time, because he did not want to be bothered by anyone.
She answered the phone, and after he identified himself she said, "Dash. We've been wondering where you were. Dial-Tone called us. He's pretty worried about you."
Flint ignored her and asked the question that was the whole reason for his phone call, "Where did it happen?"
"Excuse me?"
"The wreck. Where did the car wreck happen?" He repeated.
"Hold on. I need to look up the exact area." She returned a few minutes later with the location.
Flint hung up the phone, and looked at the map he had stashed in the car. His Ukrainian had been steadily improving the last couple of years, and he was able to locate the route to the area he wanted. He had decided that he needed some closure, and this was the first step he needed to take.
He identified the site as soon as he saw it. On a two-lane road, just after an 'S' shaped turn, was a steep incline that went down 50 feet into a riverbank below. The trees in the one area were scarred, and many of the bushes were flattened. He parked the car, and began to climb down the ravine. He gasped when he saw the car. Or actually, what was left of the car. It was basically nothing more than a burnt shell. He was trying not to imagine what her last seconds alive were like. He hoped that she had been knocked unconscious by the fall, and didn't suffer.
Flint walked over to the passenger side, and laid down a bouquet of roses that he bought on the way here. She had always loved roses. He never did buy her enough flowers. He never did enough romantic things for her.
"I'm sorry Alison." He said aloud, "I'm so sorry things didn't…" He trailed off as he heard the sounds of branches breaking behind him. He turned around, and saw a woman hiding in the shadows of the trees. He pulled out the gun he always kept on him and called to her, "Hey, you in the shadows, get out here now."
"All right, tough guy. You could put the gun away." She said as she came into the open.
Flint did a double take. For a moment he thought he was looking at Lady Jaye. However, when she came fully out into the open, he realized he was mistaken. The woman was younger, shorter and skinnier than Lady Jaye was, and her hair was much shorter. When Flint looked at her a second time, he couldn't even see why he thought of Lady Jaye. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" he asked her.
"Well, I could pose those same questions to you," she replied.
"You could, but I'm the one with the gun pointed at you, and I am in no mood for games."
He thought he saw a flash of sympathy on her face, but he received another tart reply. "I really don't think you could just shoot me for no reason." She then pulled out a cigarette and lighted it. "But to answer your question, my name's Kate Hartman, and I'm a reporter. I thought this accident looked suspicious, and I came to check it out. Did you know the victims?"
Flint turned away to look at the car. He then dropped his head and answered, "Yes. The one I knew only briefly, but the other…" what? He wasn't about to pour out his heart to this sassy reporter. "Let's just say I knew her pretty well." He saw that flash of sympathy again, and this time it made him mad. "Look. There's nothing to see here. Just move on and find another grisly car wreck to write about. Let the dead rest in peace." And the alive to mourn their loss.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Fine. Are you going to put your gun away, or do I have to worry about getting shot in the back on my way up?"
Flint activated the safety, and put the gun back in its holster. He then turned from her and she began to walk back to the car. He didn't notice when she turned to look at him once more, and shook her head. She then began the uphill climb.
Flint tried to continue from where he left off, but couldn't. He felt that the moment was ruined, and he wasn't going to get it back. Sighing, he also realized that opening his heart to her now was too late. He didn't do it when she was alive, so why should he do it now that she was dead. He had always been a coward when it came to her. That thought was hard for him to admit. Most people, after finding out the kind of life he's lead the last fifteen years would think of him as a brave man. But in reality, he wasn't. He honestly wished he had one more chance with her, a chance to make everything right. However, he couldn't. And it didn't matter anyway. He would probably waste it anyway, because a 'real man' doesn't show emotions, doesn't tell the woman he loves with all his being, that he does love her. I'm just a Goddamn coward. He touched the car, and repeated his original phrase, "I'm sorry, Alison. I'm truly sorry."
Then, without another look back, he proceeded to his car.