Chapter 28
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"What does Anson want you to do?" Michael asked.
"When we go to the Dominican Republic, I'm supposed to identify you to a Sinaloa boss who is being pressured by the Russian Mafia. They want you. That is all I know," Sophia said. "I was trying to figure out how to warn you."
"Russians." Michael frowned. This was a two-pronged attack, one from the inside of the DEA and, or the CIA, and the other, an icy vodka from his past, with a twist.
Old Soviet agents who now held leadership roles the Russian Mafia had found new opportunities close to the US border. They'd inserted themselves between Mexican drug cartels to encourage and build more distrust between them. Not only was Fiona worthy of being auctioned in certain circles of enemies, but so was he.
However, that wasn't the Russians' goal. If cartels were fighting each other, Russian Mafia would do what they do best: they'd roll in and take over. It was an established footnote in many of the CIA briefings he'd been studying. With the Sinaloas controlling access most to the American Southwest and Baja and Los Zetas controlling much the Gulf Coast, the spoils of a war fought between Durango and Monterrey would be access in, around or across the middle with a Russian Mafia toll charge. La Familia cartel had a small chunk controlling Michoacán, and were gaining strength, but he could see how the Russians would target the smaller cartel, like Xs and Os in their playbook.
"So before we begin our trip to the Dominican Republic, we've been outed, and the mission goals outlined for us at Chantilly cannot possibly be met," Michael said as he walked to the window and looked down to where Sophia's husband waited in a car.
"That's it," she agreed.
"How did Anson introduce himself to you?" Michael wondered.
"As a delivery driver," she said. "That was the first time I saw him. He delivered a box which we never opened because we hadn't ordered anything so we called a number on the label, and they argued that we'd ordered it. We became suspicious but that's when Anson showed up. He knew all about my husband's family, mine, and the fact that you helped me several years ago."
Michael shook his head. "He was tracking me then but didn't know it. I'm sorry, Sophia. About your husband's family, he's from the Valdez family group that isn't involved with drug trafficking, right? That's why they were executed."
"Right."
"And how is Anson threatening your husband now?" Jesse asked.
At her startled response, Jesse reassured her. "We know a lot more about your family history, not only what your husband told Mike, but what happened in Mexico when you were kids. What you may not know is Anson's real name is Randolph Buller."
Sophia absorbed that stunning news for a moment. "I've only heard the name, but I know what he helped establish the first drug routes out of Culiacan. People feared him. I thought he was dead."
"That would be Anson's father," Jesse clarified. "Neither is dead. How is he threatening your husband?"
"With the cartel side of his family who would love to eliminate him if they could. So he's got us locked in. If my husband leaves, he says he'll kill our children and me. If I don't do what he wants, he says he'll kill our children and my husband. His family doesn't know he's DEA, but Anson said he'll . . . " Sophia closed her eyes and composed herself. "How did he get so much personal information about us? We are extremely cautious."
Michael turned back to her. "Part of it had to have come from his investigation into me, which started with a psych eval. He was a DIA psychiatrist until earlier this year, so every government employee's psych eval was at his fingertips. He picked and chose who he wanted and why and figured out the weak links. In your case your husband and children. I'm sorry, Sophia, this has encompassed you and your family."
"We could have been targeted no matter what."
"Maybe," Michael said. "Last year we took down most of his organization from inside the government. He's been exposed now, but he's still accessing and using a secure government database. He extorts high level government employees, and supplies guns to our enemies. We didn't complete the job last year. Because we missed him, he's rebuilt the organization."
"I thought I'd heard something about the CIA having an internal security problem."
Michael paused. "How long ago did he take your children?"
"Seventy-seven days ago. It was when my husband was in the hospital. I was with him, and my mother was watching our kids. He threatened her, hurt her and took our kids from their beds."
"Does he provide . . ."
"Proof of life?" Sophia said with some acerbity. "Oh, yes. We have lots of small videos of them eating, sleeping, playing . . . waving at us. They're alive and well . . . somewhere."
Michael and Jesse exchanged a glance. "The timing. That's was right before you and Dani found the weapons facility."
"And after Fi and Sam found the one in Tampa," Jesse said.
"That's also where my husband was when he was hurt. He was investigating a weapons and drugs storage area near Jacksonville," she said.
"I thought Raines had lost it," Jesse said. "So that's why the DEA was reluctant to release their reports. Someone had to cover. That's another leak, a traitor or someone Anson is controlling."
Suddenly several things grew much clearer for Michael.
Sophia redirected. "How do you know he's using a government database?"
"Because it was hacked yesterday by an asset," Michael said, "who followed some of his trails."
"Our asset uncovered a number of locations he and his father use here in Miami, other places in Florida, Georgia and Alabama as well as in most of the major cities throughout the Caribbean," Jesse explained. "We can help you."
Michael took over. "Anson's been very successful threatening people at high levels inside the CIA, FBI and DEA. You don't know who to trust in your organization, but we know someone in the FBI who can help, someone who's been threatened the same way you've been," Michael explained.
"How do you know that?"
"Because he was blackmailed the same way I was and you are. We're both free now and I think we can help you get your children back, Sophia. But I need to make a trip to Langley with another officer here before that can happen. Can you wait a day?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Take this," Jesse said as he handed her a pen. "It's an audio scrambler. Click it on, and you can have a private conversation with your husband that won't be detected. Be sure to click it off; it doesn't have a long use battery but it can give you some peace of mind to be able to talk to him without Anson listening in."
"We've removed all the stuff he planted at our house, we think. We couldn't believe how much was there, but we've wondered if we missed something when he anticipates our every thought or move."
"That's his style. Take this, too," Jesse said, handing her another scanner. "These are still in the product development phase, very powerful and they work."
"Do you have some photos of your children? We'll need those, too." Michael asked. It would be one of the first questions, of course, from the FBI. Sophia produced photos of a small girl and a toddler boy, and told Michael their names. He scanned them and handed the photos back to her.
Jesse escorted Sophia out of the building while Michael watched the watchers who were following her.
When he returned Michael told Jesse "it's time for Dani to pack a bag because we both need to drop the hot potato in Raines lap."
"Mike, I hope you can make this work," Jesse said. "I hope you didn't just promise that woman the sky without being able to deliver."
"I didn't, Jess. We're sticking with mission objective here, only we're going to get Sophia's children back first, protect her family and then we're going after Anson. We're staying focused," Michael said with grim determination. "I hope Raines' former partner will be as much a fan by-passing agency turf wars as we are. Redemption can be quite a carrot at the end of a stick."
"Is that why you're doing this?" Jesse wondered.
"No. I need to neutralize him."
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Raines heard their reports, and didn't waste a moment. He took the newly identified problem straight to his director, who took it straight to the FBI and together they called the DEA and Homeland.
By noon, the work of a criminally talented hacker whose corrosive Void-BOT program was once incarcerated in a secure FBI facility and a money launderer with a highly questionable list of clients held the rapt attention of an audience of the most powerful individuals in American intelligence as they communicated from the secure lines of a respected private security company, from a private office held by a respected but retired CIFA counterintelligence specialist.
If they were going to eliminate the worm holes in U.S. intelligence, they needed the worms, both of whom bore the same name: R.J. Buller. They were to be eliminated or incarcerated.
And, according to Ozzie and Barry's recomendations, they needed to start hiring hackers to work for them because they'd just illuminated how insecure their networks were.
Dani and Michael were seated at the back of the room next to Raines, listening. She had a strong sense that at least two of the three directors would rather have incarcerated Ozzie and Barry for illegal hacking, and apparently Ozzie and Barry had similar thoughts because as soon as they were done speaking, they turned the call over to Jesse who summarized their findings.
By 4 p.m., Michael and Dani were on their way back to Miami with a plan.
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Jesse wasn't in favor of Dani traveling to Langley, but there were few options. He knew Mike would take care of her and be alert to her well being. His last image of her was from the tarmac, watching her tidy tail end and beautiful legs climb the steps and disappear into a CIA jet sent by Raines to collect them.
After talking with Sophia, they'd put Oswald and Barry back to work, only this time they were hacking into government networks. Sam agreed to nerd-sit and collect and organize information as they found it.
It had been around noon when Raines called which led to Ozzie and Barry's subsequent chat with the CIA, FBI and DEA directors. He'd finished the call, by hitting main points and had been waiting to hear back from either Raines or Dani. He'd spoken with her briefly, enough to know that Raines was being sent back to Miami, that his wife would be accompanying him. Enough to know Dani sounded healthy, energized and glad to be back to work.
The day had started long before the sun started showing its colors, so when Jesse stopped back to his place for a late lunch, he made a quick decision to see Fiona before he went to the airport to pick up Michael and Dani.
Fiona wasn't surprised to see Jesse's face through the peephole, standing outside on her porch step. She let him in. "Are you lonely over there without Dani?" she wondered with a smile for him.
He looked down, deciphered her question behind the question and responded by brushing it off. "Yeah, yeah. How about you? You doing okay with Mike gone? Want to go along when I pick them up at the airport? We've got an hour so before we need to leave."
"Four people? In your car?" Fiona said with a grin.
"No, we can use one of the company's Mercedes."
"Amazing, the resources you have, Jess. Hey, can I get you something to drink?" She started toward the kitchen area. "I just made some . . . ohhhssssahhh . . .ohhhhh."
Fiona thought someone had stabbed her. She doubled over with a piercing pain in her abdomen. With the universal protective gesture of any woman waiting for a child she pressed her hand over her abdomen. She squeezed her eyes shut and blindly grabbed to hold on to something, anything. It turned out to be Jesse who'd responded in the blink of an eye and two long steps to her side. He reached her and kept her upright by sliding his arm around her back at her waist. He steadied her, but it was a losing battle as her knees buckled under the pain.
Tears from the pain and the anguish of realizing what was happening to her came to her eyes.
"Fi? What's wrong? You're . . . let me call . . . "
She couldn't move, she couldn't catch her breath, but she could shake her head no and panted out the word. "No."
She inhaled sharply. "I need the bathroom . . . "
Jesse summed up the possibility of her walking from where they were standing to there and he reached down and slid his arm under her knees to carry her over to the small bath off the living area. He set her down on her feet and opened the door. She held on to the door jamb, then placed her hand on the vanity top before turning around and looking into his worried face.
"I'm pretty sure . . . this is a miscarriage," she said, her face ashen, her eyes huge and dark and leaking tears down her cheeks. "Don't you dare tell . . ."
He saw a new crushing wave of pain wash across her face again as she closed the door in front of him.
He'd known instinctively what was happening before she said anything, and the bathroom was silent except for the muted sounds of Fi's whimpering. It was an agonizing sound that set every one of his nerves on edge.
He paced outside, deciding what to do next. He'd never come in contact with anything like this. After five minutes he rapped softly on the door. "Fi, can I call a doctor for you? Something?"
The door opened. Her complexion was incredibly pale, and she seemed to be, physically, as weak as Jesse had ever seen her. "Fi? Tell me how to help you."
She was holding on to the door jamb for balance. He watched, ready to catch her, because she looked as if she wouldn't be able to stay up right. She pointed. "I need my . . . purse."
He could see she was still having trouble catching her breath. "Fi . . ."
"My phone. The doctor's num . . . "
He looked down at her then picked her up and carried her toward the door. "Hold on. We're going to the ER."
"I still . . . need my purse."
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There was a no mobile phone rule in the ER, Jesse learned, so he stepped outside into warm, humid air to check his messages and call Michael. He'd sent a text to him as well as to Dani shortly after Fi was admitted and a nurse went in the room to take her vitals. Neither had replied.
He had Fi's oversized purse tucked under his arm; the weight of it told him what was in it, and he wasn't about to leave it in the room after they'd taken her away for a sonogram or x-ray or something he wasn't quite sure he understood.
His first call went to voice mail, but he wasn't going to leave a message, so he called again. Mike and Dani should have been back by now, and would be wondering why he wasn't there waiting for them. If Mike had been trying to reach Fi, he'd be worried and would probably call him. Finally Mike picked up.
Jesse outlined the problem. "Hey, slow down, Mike. She'll be fine. She is fine. Sorta. I'm not going to leave her . . .okay. Okay. See you soon."
He'd had to explain the situation three times for Mike. Normally, it wouldn't have taken that long to communicate a simple idea, but given the topic, Jesse could understand his panic. If it had been Dani . . .
He froze at the thought. It soared into his brain, clamped on with talons and would not let go.
When Michael arrived, Dani was right behind him. Jesse told Mike where to find Fi, told him they were waiting for another test result before they would release her, and that she was going to be fine. But Mike didn't look like he could focus on anything except getting to Fiona right now. Jesse followed and found him in the hallway, trying to explain he was looking for his wife. The nurse at the station wouldn't allow him entrance to the patient area.
Jesse pushed Fiona's purse at Mike, stepped to the side where he could see into the nurse's station and explained. "Remember me? Yeah, I brought her in, but he's her husband. He needs. . . " The nurse glanced at Michael then Jesse and saw Dani behind him. Apparently the puzzle was solved, because she hit the door release and allowed Michael entrance.
"Room 3B," Jesse called behind him as Michael slung Fi's purse over his shoulder, lifted an arm and waved acknowledgement.
Jesse turned back to Dani and met her pale and somber eyes. He put his arm around her, and she put her good arm around his waist as they walked toward the exit.
She was dressed in business armor, a dark grey skirt and jacket, and black heels that nearly put her on eye level with him. She'd sleeked her hair into a French twist, completing the image of a strong, competent, tough CIA case officer. And she was, except Jesse had seen her too often with her hair down, soft around her face, and it was that image along with another that had recently been introduced to him that held the strongest pull in his imagination.
He released her at the door and allowed her to go first. "My car's over there. I bet you're tired. Want to go home?"
She nodded. "What happened?"
So Jesse told her. When he finished she said, "how terrible for them." And looked out the passenger side window.
That night, after she told him about her trip to Langley, she'd gone to bed first. He told himself he couldn't and shouldn't go in there. He should sleep in the guest room upstairs, and he should leave her alone, but tonight he needed to be next to her and the temptation was too great. He slid in the bed, reached for her and pulled her close before he tugged the lightweight blanket up and over them. She snuggled closer and put her arm across his stomach.
He kissed her forehead and found himself wondering if Dani had ever wanted a child. Until today, until witnessing Fi's terrible, painful loss, he'd never thought about it. That's when he realized he couldn't let Dani go.
It struck him then that he'd never thought about a lot of things until she jumped in front of him to save his life. Maybe that's exactly what she was still doing. He kissed her forehead again and closed his eyes.
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The doctor wasn't quite Michael's image of what Fi's physician should look like. He expected someone younger or male. But definitely younger.
She was the same vintage as his mother, with steel and silver hair shaped in a longish crew-cut style. Her earrings had teddy bears swinging inside circles. Her face was round, so were her glasses. She wore turquoise scrubs over a body that looked like it was acquainted with the expensive running shoes on her feet. Her white jacket was adorned with a stethoscope, a hospital nametag and under it, a button pin of child's smiling face with birth and death years on it.
Michael was holding Fiona in his arms when she whisked back the curtain to the examination room. They separated, but he kept his arm around Fiona as the doctor introduced herself to him.
"I think you're going to be fine," she said to Fi and handed her a card. "Call tomorrow and confirm that appointment time with my office, and I'll see you in a week. Call me sooner if you have any unusual bleeding."
She glanced at her watch. "I hope you two don't worry overmuch about this. I understand you're trying to start a family, so I know you're deeply concerned. A loss like this is a loss to your hearts. No one can pinpoint why a five- or six-week pregnancy naturally aborts, but it does. I know this won't take away your sorrow, but this kind of thing is usually a one-time occurrence. There's no known cause, and there's no evidence you did anything to make this happen. You should be able to have as many babies as you want. Just give yourselves a little time to heal before you start again. Do you have any questions?"
The doctor's voice was calm, low and soothing. Michael and Fiona glanced at each other.
"Just one," Fiona said, motioning. "Who is the child on the pin you're wearing."
"My daughter's only child. My only grandson. There was a fight between drug gangs in the mall and he was killed instantly by a stray bullet." The doctor took a deep breath and returned to the business at hand. "If you don't have a question now, you might later. I'm as close as the phone number on that card."
She handed them the release forms and instructions which Fiona held with a clenched fist all the way back to their townhouse.
There was no conversation, there was no soothing the ache.
They didn't talk about anything when they went home, not what Michael had done at Langley, not how Jesse had come to be here at the time Fiona needed him.
She'd gone straight from the car, into the townhouse, to the bath off the bedroom and stood in the shower for so long Michael was sure she was standing in ice water by now.
When he peeked in the room he wasn't surprised to find her sitting on the floor of the shower, letting the water run over her, holding herself, her head down.
He finished removing the rest of his clothes and grabbed for towels he knew they'd need before he stepped into the shower with her and helped her stand. Her hair still held shampoo suds, so he rinsed that and helped her before he turned off the water. He opened the wide glass door and stepped out, and held his hand for her. Wrapping her in a towel he used another to gently dry her hair before he had her sit on the stool lid while he used a blow dryer on her hair.
When she was done, he carried her to their bed and held her until her tears finally stopped, soothing, caressing her. Until her small sobs ceased, until she fell asleep in his arms. And then he felt his own pain release as he held her gently.
He understood everything the doctor said. It made sense. It was logical. He knew she was right, and he guessed this pain would leave them, but tonight, it was too new, too fresh and too painful to not mourn.
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"Mikey, get your butt down here. Jesse and Dani just filled me in on your latest harebrained idea. Get down here!"
Sam's message was loud. Michael turned down the volume on his phone, but not before Fiona woke.
It had been more than a week since he and Dani returned from Washington. And, it had been a very productive week. As of yesterday, Raines' former partner led the FBI team that, without a shot being fired, took custody of Sophia Valdez's children away from Anson's hired kidnapping assistants. The children and her husband would be isolated while she completed her task. She worked very much with the same mindset as Michael Westen: Anson Fullerton/R.J. Buller and his father were going down. It was a layered plan, and it would take several weeks to complete.
But the first, most dangerous and most important step needed to be taken in the Dominican Republic. Sophia would participate and then be sent home.
They had accomplished what they thought would never happen: they'd located Anson in Haiti, and his father was in Suriname. The longer they kept them separated, the better.
Raines and Dani would be coordinating the op from Jesse's office; Ozzie and Barry were still unhappy guests of the CIA, but Raines had placated them with offers of cash and commendations.
Fiona slid one hand across Michael's shoulders and he leaned back, then back a bit more for a morning kiss. When his eyes met hers, he smiled. Part of his sweet and sassy wife was back; the mourning mother had found a safe place for her emotions at least temporarily this morning. It had been a day by day thing, and he'd been torn, watching her deal with this and unable to do more than tell her they would be all right, because he believed it. Maybe she did now, too. Maybe that visit to the doctor's office helped her.
She pulled him down to her then pulled him close and sighed against his mouth. "I need you, Michael."
"Ah, Fi, I always need you."
Sam would wait.
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He was going to leave in the morning and be gone for more than a month. What he would be doing would be dangerous, no matter how skilled or capable he was. Dani didn't know if she could deal with the pain if something happened to him. If it was possible for a heart to explode with need, hers was doing exactly that.
He wasn't Janssen; he was far, far more important to her than Janssen. So much more.
Janssen would never have done any of the deeply personal, loving things Jesse had been doing for her. Never.
Janssen would have flirted with the nurses at the hospital, hired someone to stay with her and brought her flowers she loathed, because he never paid attention to details. Jesse didn't miss anything.
The greatest tenderness she had ever experienced in her life had all been gifts from Jesse Porter, every gift given without cost, every kindness, every thoughtful gesture something personal and of enormous, immeasurable value.
She'd been lying in his bed, this place of comfort and sweetness and gentleness and caring while tears washed her cheeks. When he finally joined her, he sensed her distress before he felt it, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Dani slid her palms under his shirt. She wanted no barriers between them tonight. As soon as he was free of that, she started to pull her own shirt off, and he helped. Finally, flesh to flesh, her heart soared with delight at the exquisite beauty of such a simple thing.
She slid her hands under the waistband of his boxers, and felt him tense and hold his breath, as if he was still weighing the right or the wrong of this.
"Please, Jesse."
He paused, bracing himself up on his elbows, caressing her face with his hands. "Dani . . . if we go here, I don't think I'll be able to let you go . . ."
"Oh, please," she said quietly, hoping he would ignore her tears.
". . . or walk away. Understand?"
"I understand, because I need you so much." She wondered if he could feel her heart imploding.
He lowered his mouth to hers and intoxicated her with gentle kisses.
And then the last of the clothing barriers between them landed on the floor. They were next to each other as he looked down into her face and brushed away her tears as he kissed her lips while turning their bodies together so he could begin gently testing and sweetly teasing, caressing and pleasing the center of her being.
With a simple, easy movement they became one . . . almost.
Jesse's eyes opened, he stopped breathing and stilled his movements as he raised up to look into her face. "Dani? Why . . . " At the small barrier, he paused to take a deep and calming breath. Then another. And one more.
"Jesse. Please."
He rested his forehead on hers lightly. "I don't want to stop. But . . ."
"If you do, I'll die."
His kiss was hungry and gentle and mingled with humor. "I feel the same way."
With her soft hands on either side of his hips, she pulled him toward her, and he entered slowly, fully, his eyes on hers until she closed hers, and then he closed his to the most beautiful sensation he had ever experienced. When he felt her finally relax, he smiled. "Oh, no, no, no. You don't get to rest yet. We have places to go."
He began the sweet torture of sensitizing every part of her body with his kisses, his gentle touches. She wondered if this was what an instrument was like when a musician brought forth beauty and joy. And when he came into her again, he waited, sensing, nudging, slowly and rhythmically moving her toward the crescendo. As her world exploded with the fiery light of a chrysanthemum bursting behind her eyes, he followed her to the most beautiful, loving place he had ever been in his life.
Long moments later he turned on to his back and pulled her up with him.
There were still tears in her eyes, tears for the exquisite beauty of what they had just shared. "I'm sorry, Jesse, I should have-"
He wrapped one palm around the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his for a kiss. "You save my life, you give me this incredible gift and now you're apologizing? Ah, Dani, we got to work on this. What's wrong with you, woman?"
She caught a sob and held it back. "I'm in love with you."
"Good," Jesse said. "Because I'm in love with you, too, in case you've missed that. Did you miss that? Have I been unclear?
She smiled. "I think . . .I hoped too much. I don't want you to leave tomorrow."
"Nope. Day after. Late." He smiled.
She could only smile and kiss him again. And again. And again.
"Wait, wait," he said, grinning. "I need to know about that fiancé."
"And I want to know why you haven't been married for years by now."
He looked into her eyes and spoke softly. "I was waiting, but I didn't know I was waiting for you."
That distracted her completely. It was quite some time later before she had a chance to tell Jesse why he was the first man in her life.
And, it turned out that Michael Westen wasn't the only man who knew how plan ahead or read the Miami-Dade marriage license bureau website. So before Jesse left 36 hours later with Michael and Sophia, Sam, Ryan and Nick, Dani had changed her last name to Porter, and wore a simple gold band on her left finger. It matched the one Jesse wore.
The only person with an opinion was Sam when he realized both Jesse and Mike wore wedding rings. "Good God. It's a disease and it's spreading." He looked at Peterbaugh and Carnahan. "Now don't you two go crazy on me."
Both of the young men turned and looked at Sam. "What are you talking about?" Ryan demanded.
"Wedding rings," Sam grumbled.
"Don't pay attention to him," Michael advised. "He's married, too."
Sam frowned. "Well . . . technically . . . but . . ." Both of the younger men turned and looked at Sam.
"Good one, Mike," Jesse complimented. And that concluded that topic of discussion.