Written by Scooplet

Concept by Cheryl and Scooplet

Scarecrow and Mrs. King characters are the property of Shoot the Moon Productions and Warner Bros. Television. No copyright infringement intended. Not for commercial use. Sarah Stetson, Matt Granger, and the other characters not found in the television show are my creation, however, so please respect my right to claim ownership of them—I do not authorize permission to use them in stories not authored by me.

The Eyes of the Father

Chapter Eight

The next morning, Sarah found herself wishing she could be back at Martini's with Matt. There were not many people in the world whom Sarah had ever truly disliked, but Teresa Sandoval was one of them.

While the prosecutor, Stephen Willis, had been thorough, he had made an obvious effort to make her testimony as quick as possible under the circumstances. It had been painful to replay the images that had haunted her memories and her nightmares, but the attorney had seemed understanding and kind as she told of the four men who had attacked her and Matt that day last fall. Miss Sandoval was another story.

"So you did not try to talk with Diego Jimenez before you knifehanded him?"

"No. All of them men had pulled knives. They outnumbered—"

"So you were looking for the next man you could take out after Mr. Jimenez was down, is that right, Miss Stetson?"

"Objection. Miss Stetson is not under trial. Please strike that last question." Greg Peterson's mouth was a flat line. "If you continue to badger the witness, Miss Sandoval, the deposition will be over."

Teresa Sandoval did not respond, continuing her questioning instead.

"Did you check on Diego Jimenez's condition, or come to the aid of Marcelo Jimenez, both of whom were unconscious on the ground at this point?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I was too worried about the attack on Agent Granger."

"You felt you could assist him with his knife fight?"

"I don't know, I—"

"So you ignored the injured men on the ground?"

"Objection. Miss Stetson and Mr. Granger were outnumbered. They are not on trial."

Sandoval straightened in her chair and adjusted her suit jacket. "So you did not assist the men who lay unconscious on the ground?"

"I was too busy watching Matt, looking for an opportunity to help him in some way. He had already been injured at that point."

"Let's talk about Luis Santiago. You said he took you by surprise."

"Yes."

"Did he hurt you at first?"

"No. Only when he—"

"I understand you went through family training at the Agency when you were young—middle school, was it?"

"Yes."

"And again later?"

"Yes. Two more sessions. In high school, then in college."

"What did your training teach you about hostage situations, when you are held and threatened with a weapon?"

"Relax and cooperate with the abductor. If there are operatives present, let them manage the situation."

"I see. Then how did you get that scar on your neck?"

"We had stopped moving. I didn't realize Santiago was dragging me away."

"So you fought him?"

"No."

"Miss Stetson, you were begging him to stay, so you could help your friend. Is that right?"

"That was before. He hadn't cut me yet."

"How did you get the scar on your neck, Miss Stetson?"

"I don't know. Santiago was being careless. The knife was sharp. He didn't care—"

"Or you fought him, causing the knife to cut you. Is that right, Miss Stetson?"

"Objection. Attorney badgering and leading the witness. Please strike that last comment from the record." Willis held up a hand to Peterson, who looked like he might be ready to take Sarah from the room.

"Miss Stetson, were there any other operatives there besides Mr. Granger?"

"My father, Lee Stetson, who is the former section chief and a former operative. My mother, Amanda Stetson, is also a former operative. They were both there."

"Were they armed?"

"Yes."

"Yet you continued to fight?"

"I hadn't been fighting."

"Clearly you had been. Medical personnel found bruises on your arms that indicated you had resisted. Isn't this resistance against the protocol for this kind of situation, Miss Stetson?"

Sarah had been unaware of any bruising. Or perhaps she just couldn't remember. She wracked her brain. Her memory grew fuzzy at this point. "There may have been bruises. I don't recall."

Greg Peterson shook his head furiously.

Concerned she had said too much, she looked at Peterson, then back at Teresa Sandoval. Anxiety began to well up inside of her. Oh, please don't let me have a flashback now.

"Miss Stetson, your mother said they were able to pinpoint your location when they heard you pleading with the men to let you go. Then, as your father attempted to bring the situation under control, he said you began begging Mr. Santiago to let you go. At this point, your neck had begun bleeding. Were you resisting, or were you not?"

Sarah glanced down, then back up at Sandoval. "I may have been. What does it matter?"

"Miss Stetson, I must ask you to only answer the questions."

Sarah spoke as if she had not heard Teresa Sandoval. "Luis Santiago was dragging me away. He left a permanent scar on my neck." Sarah's hands shook. Clasping them together, she pressed them down into her lap.

"Were you resisting when your father aimed his gun at Mr. Santiago?"

"I don't know." She gritted her teeth as they threatened to chatter.

"What do you mean, you do not know? Certainly you can remember your own father aiming a gun in your direction."

"My father would not aim a gun at me." Sarah could no longer hide her trembling. She could feel her shoulders shaking.

Peterson practically jumped out of his chair. "Objection. Badgering the witness. This is bordering on cruelty. Miss Stetson and Mr. Granger were victims of an awful attack. I'm removing my client." He stood and began to take Sarah's arm.

"I am almost done, Mr. Peterson. Miss Stetson, did you resist when your father aimed the gun at you and Mr. Santiago? Were you trying to get away from your father or Mr. Santiago?"

Sarah had wracked her brain for months now, occasionally adding new pieces to the puzzle that was her remembrance of that day in the park. But she had never been able to account for the reason why she had ended up on the ground, apparently next to Luis Santiago's body. Her head had been spinning, and flashing lights had danced around the edges of her vision and across it, but she had been coherent enough to get up and go to Matt. She could remember helping him. Why could she not remember how Santiago had died?

"Miss Stetson, you are under oath to answer my questions to the best of your ability. Did you resist—"

As Sarah looked down at her hands, she saw that they had stopped shaking. She resolved to speak with assurance. "No, Miss Sandoval, I did not. My father is a prof—"

"How can you explain the cut on your neck or your bruises, then, if you were not trying to get away from Mr. Santiago? Perhaps Mr. Santiago was merely trying to keep you away from danger and you fought too hard."

Greg Peterson had clearly had enough. He stood up, leaned over to the control panel, and switched off the recording equipment. "That's the end of this deposition. Sarah, you don't have to say another word."

"That will be all, Miss Stetson. Thank you."

Professional. That was the word she had tried to say just now. As usual, she had been cut off. Surely her father had not endangered her. She wracked her brain again, searching for a memory that would not come to her. And what had Teresa Sandoval said to make Gary so angry? She had focused so hard on trying to remember what her father had been doing that Sarah felt as if she had blanked out briefly at the end of the deposition. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

Looking around her, Sarah realized that the room had emptied of all the attorneys and court staff except Gary Peterson. And Matt, whose hand was on her shoulder. Sarah grasped wildly for an explanation about why she had been oblivious of her surroundings for the last quarter hour. She had been lost in thought. That was it.

"Come on, Sarah. Let's eat lunch. I went out and picked us up some sandwiches." Matt placed his hand under her elbow, urging her from the seat.

Sensing their concern, she said, "I'm okay."

She watched as Matt shot a quick look at the Agency attorney. Gary Peterson lifted an eyebrow, and the concern was evident in his eyes. "Go home, Sarah. Call your folks and have them give you a ride."

"I said I'm okay. I drove my car. Matt and I can have lunch, and then I have a training session with Leatherneck." She picked up her purse and coat and walked with Matt to the doorway, at the last second turning back towards Peterson. "I'm done, right? I don't have to answer any more questions?"

Peterson sighed heavily. "I'd love to guarantee that, but most likely, you are done Sarah. You can move on now."

"Good. I hope I never see Teresa Sandoval again." She smiled ruefully at the old friend of her parents.

"You and me both, but I won't be so lucky. Neither will your fiancé here. Go eat some lunch. He has to be back here soon." Peterson picked up his briefcase. "Enjoy planning your wedding. Try to forget all of this."

"Thanks, Gary." Smiling genuinely now, Sarah set her purse and coat down quickly to give Peterson a hug. Then she had gathered her things and was out the door ahead of Matt.

"Keep an eye on her at lunch, Granger. Sandoval really had her shaken up. I had to stop the deposition early." Peterson's voice was low, and he spoke quickly.

"I will. See you in a bit." Matt was out the door before Sarah could come back to get him.

Jamie was in a meeting when they arrived at his office to gather up the lunch that Matt had brought from the deli. His interns were busy at work on the computers in the workroom adjacent.

"We can't stay here if Jamie isn't around, but we can use the conference room down the hall."

Sarah followed him out of the office, but once in the hallway, he slowed his pace so he could walk alongside of her. He watched her out of the corner of his eye.

Matt waited until they were settled with their food before he said anything. "You okay?"

"Yes. It was hard, but I'm okay." She busied herself with her sandwich and did not look up.

Matt regarded her with narrowed eyes. He reached over and tipped her chin with his finger so he could see her face. "You're not okay, Sarah. I think you should go home."

"I really am better now. I thought I was going to have a flashback. I almost wish I had. The attorney was asking me about my dad aiming a gun at Luis Santiago, and I couldn't remember it." She drew away, almost as if she was uncomfortable with his close scrutiny of her.

While it was apparent that Sarah was being honest with him, Matt still felt an unease, as if a wall had gone up between them. He did not know what to make of it. This is so unlike her.

They were quiet for the next few minutes. Sarah only nibbled at her sandwich, while Matt ate his with more enthusiasm. Swallowing a bite, he looked over at her. "I hope it's okay I got you the turkey and Swiss. I was afraid we wouldn't have time to eat if I didn't go out and get the food for us."

"Oh, it's good. It was really thoughtful of you. I may just save the rest of this for later, though."

"Your stomach still in knots?"

"Isn't yours? You still have your deposition coming up."

"I am a little nervous. But I guess I figure God has it all worked out. I'll take it as it comes."

"I wish I could just forget. I keep replaying things."

Matt got up and threw away his sandwich wrapper. Returning to his seat, he took Sarah's hands in his own. "Would you like to pray? God can calm your heart and mine, too."

Sarah did not say anything, but she gripped Matt's hands and bowed her head.

After they prayed, Matt placed his hand on her cheek. "You don't need to remember it all, Sarah. Sometimes it's best if we forget things." He leaned in and kissed her gently. "You've had a hard morning. I really wish you would go home."

He could see she was making an effort to be cheerful when she grinned at him. "I'm fine. Maybe you'll get out early and you can come watch my simulation. It won't be ready for another half hour at least."

His mouth tipped at the corners, but his eyes did not smile, too. "I wish you wouldn't push yourself so hard. You have nothing to prove. It would be a miracle if I got out early. But if I do, I'll be there." He checked his watch. "For now, I had better get to the conference room." He reached into the deli bag and produced an apple. "Would you at least eat this? I have another in my desk."

The apple seemed more appealing than the sandwich to Sarah. "Thanks. That looks good." Taking the bag with her leftover sandwich, she crunched down on the apple as they walked together towards the elevator.

"I'll text you when I'm done here, okay? If I get out early, I'll look for you down by the range—or if you change your mind and go home, text me. I'll see you there."

"I'm fine, Matt."

As the elevator pinged its arrival, Matt grabbed her hand and kissed it quickly. "Love you," he whispered.

Before Sarah could respond, the elevator doors were closing and Matt was no longer in sight.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Lee touched the screen of his phone, ending the call. Staring at the phone thoughtfully, he only vaguely noticed when Amanda came up beside his chair.

"Your lunch is getting cold."

He glanced up at her, now fully aware of her presence. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just got off the phone with Gary Peterson."

"And?"

"He was pretty worried about Sarah. He said that when the questioning ended, she just sat in her seat, staring, until Matt came into the room and 'woke her up,' as he put it."

"Flashback?"

"I don't know. Matt probably would have called us to pick her up if that was the case."

Amanda continued to question Lee as they sat down to lunch. "How did it go overall?"

"Not quite so well as yesterday. Sandoval is trying to pull for mitigating circumstances. Making it look like Sarah brought some of the trouble on herself, escalated the situation by fighting Santiago. She played the hostage training card."

"As in, she wasn't as calm as she should have been?"

"Something like that. But she was standing still. I said that in my deposition. She had bruises on her arms, but Santiago had a tight hold on her—and she fought Jimenez."

"She doesn't remember you taking the shot."

"No. Let's hope she never does." Lee pushed his soup bowl away and leveled his eyes at Amanda. "I haven't told you the entire reason I started going back to Kirby."

She put her spoon down and waited for him to continue.

"I've had the most awful feeling that I'd failed her."

"You saved her life and Matt's."

"They never should have been attacked. I should have insisted they go to the safe house sooner."

"But Matt's okay now. You did what you thought was best for them. And, quite frankly, you helped bring things to an end. They took Sarah from the safe house, Lee."

"But still. We could have avoided—"

"Lee, you're talking about 'what ifs.' It's not your fault the cartel targeted her. And it's behind her now. The testimony is over, right?"

He looked down at the table, idly running a finger along the grain of the wood. "Yes, it's over."

"Now you can help Sarah put the past behind her. What is she doing this afternoon? More practice at the track? Weren't you going to ride along again?"

"Leatherneck has her in the arena."

"What are you waiting for then?"

Lee looked up at his wife. Perhaps if he concentrated on helping Sarah, his own demons about the case would go away. Getting up from his seat, he leaned down to kiss her. "I guess I'd better head over there right now if I'm going to get there in time to watch."

"I'll see you later, Scarecrow." She grinned up at him.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Crouching behind a stack of crates, Sarah released the Glock's empty magazine and replaced it with a fully loaded one. This simulation had been more challenging than the rest. Or was it just her nerves? Fairly certain that she was not far from the friendly fire, she continued cautiously toward her goal. She was trying to arrive undetected at a better vantage point for taking out the shooter while her fellow agents "distracted" him.

Hunching over, she ran as quickly as she could behind the crates to the side of the building. A homeless man popped up three feet away. Spotting the handle of a pistol partially hidden under his jacket, she fired quickly.

"Good Sarah. You didn't give him time to fire at you first."

Leatherneck looked away from the monitors and the computer tracking Sarah's progress just long enough to note Lee entering the room. Grinning, he lifted a hand to him and turned back to concentrating on the simulation.

Knowing that today's depositions would most likely have been grueling for her, Leatherneck had decided against running Sarah through the arena. Instead, he thought she might practice her target shooting or lock-picking skills. Grant Hill had asked for some tutorial time as well. But Sarah had been determined to run the simulation in the arena. In the end, Leatherneck gave in, determining that he could use this exercise as a means of measuring Sarah's responses while under stress. While she had had some "field experience" already at the hands of the Mexican cartel, she had not been armed at the time. So, he and Hill had set up the arena, and the young intern had stayed to watch.

Noticing Hill with a headset watching quietly from a corner, Lee nodded to him and then went to stand next to Leatherneck. "Who's the kid back there?" he whispered.

Leatherneck muted his mic. "An intern. May end up in Sarah's class. Wong and Francine haven't decided on him yet." He handed Lee a headset.

"Why's he watching?"

"He helped me set up the arena."

Lee nodded, then donned the headset and focused his attention on his daughter.

Sarah crept along the side of the building, knowing she would have a clear shot as she reached the corner. A doorway lay between her and the goal. Inching forward, she was hesitant, unsure if the doorway might be her undoing.

Without warning, a pop-up shot out of the doorway, blocking her path. It was a man, with his gun raised at her face. The silver hair was unmistakable in the dim light next to the building, and she recognized the outline of his body. She pointed her gun at the ceiling and took a step closer so she could see the man more clearly. This was not only a fellow agent. She was staring at her father, who was aiming a gun at her.

She could almost feel the vise-like grip on her arm and the sharp pain at her throat. She was no longer in the arena. She was back at the park, and Luis Santiago wanted to take her away. She knew Matt lay helpless somewhere nearby. He had been stabbed, and he needed her help. He might even be dead now. But no, he was struggling to his feet, his knife in his hand. And her father was holding a gun, its barrel pointed at her. Or was it aimed at Santiago? It did not matter. The cold look in her father's eyes was chilling. Surely it was intended for Santiago. But she was frightened and fighting to stay rational.

Lee and Santiago exchanged words, but Sarah could not hear them. The voice was insistent in her ear, but she did not register what it was saying. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought Matt might be preparing to throw his knife at Santiago. But he was so weak, she wondered how he was standing. She looked in her father's eyes, but they were trained on Santiago. Now he was pulling the trigger. No! A gunshot reverberated around her and she felt herself thrown—or was it pulled?—backward violently. But she did not land on the ground. Back in the arena once again, she was still on her feet. Tearing off her headset, she sank to her knees and cried out.

After trying unsuccessfully to get Sarah's attention several times, Leatherneck zoomed the camera in on her location. The image was not clear, but she seemed frozen in place at first, before falling to her knees. He heard her cry out in terror and watched as she pulled off her headset, dropping it to the ground along with her gun.

Leatherneck tore off his headset at the same time. The three men looked at one another in alarm and confusion. Leatherneck turned on the P.A. system. "Sarah! Are you okay?" His voice echoed throughout the arena, but there was no response.

"What's going on?" Lee searched the other monitors. "Is someone in there with her?" Unable to see anything, he turned to Leatherneck, a panicked expression on his face. "Has she been hit?"

"Something is wrong, Lee, but she's in there alone."

Lee reached the door first, tearing down the arena steps as if he were a young agent again. "Sarah! Are you okay? What's going on?"

He heard running feet, then a door slam. "Sarah!" Lee ran towards the source of the sound—the door to the hallway. "Sarah!"

Reaching the armory, Sarah was unsure how she had gotten there. She calmed her breathing for a moment, and then started to go in to lock up her gun. But she had left it on the floor of the arena. She would be in trouble for not returning the gun herself. She should have at least turned it over to Leatherneck, who would be held responsible. Glancing back toward the arena, she thought of her father, who would be following her out into the hallway. She could not go back there.

Going to the locker room where she had left her purse, she grabbed it and her coat, and made her way to the stairs leading to the parking garage.

Lee reached the doorway to the hall and opening it, looked for Sarah. She was nowhere to be seen. He stopped and pulled out his phone. It was answered after the second ring.

"Lee! Why are you calling me on this line?"

"Phillip. Don't ask questions. See if you can locate your sister on the cameras or with her GPS. She was last seen near the lower level of the arena. Call me when you find her. Something went wrong with her simulation."

"I'll call you as soon as I know anything." Phillip did not bother with any further pleasantries, ending the call abruptly.

Lee turned back to the Arena doorway and knocked loudly with the side of his fist. Not even his clearance as section chief could have opened the door without a special override from security—and he was no longer the section chief. But Leatherneck would hear his pounding.

"What the hell is going on?" Lee ran a hand through his hair as he strode past Grant Hill, who had opened the door, and over to Leatherneck. The lights had been turned up so there were no longer any shadows and each pop up could be clearly seen. Including one that bore a remarkable resemblance to Lee. "Oh my God." Everything was now crystal clear.

"I'm so sorry, Lee. I have no idea how this one ended up in Sarah's simulation. I thought I checked all of the pop-ups myself."

"Not all of them." Hill was apologizing profusely. "We were in a hurry. You didn't check all of the ones I set up. I didn't think it would be any worse than the little old ladies or the homeless guy. He was supposed to be a friendly. An easy friendly."

Both of the older men glared at Hill, who was looking more and more chagrined by the minute. "I'm so sorry. I really blew it, didn't I?"

Leatherneck ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. "No, it's my fault, Hill. I should have checked your pop-ups. Or at least warned you not to use that one."

Lee looked at his likeness and grimaced. "Or tossed it altogether. I don't work here anymore. At least not on a regular basis." His phone buzzed. "Stetson."

Phillip was on the other end of the line. "Lee, she's in her car, on her way out of the garage. I spotted her on the cameras and I'm tracking her phone."

"Thanks, Phillip. Please keep tracking her GPS. Let me know where she's headed."

"Lee, what's going on?"

"I'll call you back, Phillip." He lowered the phone from his ear, ending the call. "I'm going after Sarah, Leatherneck."

"I'm really sorry, Lee. Do you want me to come along?"

"No, you stay here and take care of things." He gestured to the handgun that lay on the floor of the arena.

"What the?" Stooping down, Leatherneck reached for the gun. It was Sarah's Glock. He removed the magazine, pulled back the slide, and checked for cartridges in the chamber. He looked up at Lee. "This never happened." Looking around for Hill, he noted with satisfaction that the intern was now busy in another part of the arena and would not have seen the gun on the floor.

"I'm really sorry, Ace. Please tell her for me."

"I will. And thanks, my friend." Lee pointed his chin at the Glock in Leatherneck's hand. "I've got to run."

Lee ran up the stairs to the observation room and grabbed his jacket. He jogged to the garage, returning Phillip's call once he was in the car and driving away from the Agency.

"Lee. Sarah seems to be headed home, judging by her GPS signal. Will you tell me what happened? Why all the panic?"

"Something went wrong in the arena today during her simulation. I don't think she's hurt—there's no blood. But she was upset about something. I wish I could tell you more. Please keep an eye on her GPS signal. Let me know if she doesn't go home."

"Got it."

"Thanks, Phillip. And this is eyes only. We don't need to attract any undue attention to Sarah."

"Yes, Sir."

Lee had purposefully not told Phillip about his sister's grave breach of firearms protocol. Never leave a weapon unattended. While he hoped that the incident today was nothing serious, a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach made him think that was only the beginning of another issue of some sort for Sarah. Oh God. Hasn't she had enough trouble these last few months?

He called Amanda.

"Hi, Lee. How did Sarah do?"

"Not so great. Listen, where are you right now? Are you at home?"

"I'm at the grocery store."

"Can you go home right now? You're probably closer than me."

"Uh, I didn't go to our usual store. I went to that natural grocer over near Fairfax…" She could hear Lee's grunt of frustration. "Lee, what's wrong?"

"Hopefully nothing, but Sarah ran out of the simulation a little while ago. Left her gun on the floor of the arena. I've seen her with that Glock and other weapons at the Agency, Amanda. I've taken her to the range for years. She's never been that irresponsible before. Something really spooked her. I'll explain more when I see you."

"Should I just go home right now?"

"No, finish your errand. You have enough on your plate. I'll talk with her."

As they ended the conversation, Lee hoped that he could help Sarah—if she was willing to talk with him.