CHAPTER 2

Movement. But not of his own. The white light returned, bursting into his head and forcing the blanketing darkness away in flashes that made him gasp. Sharp intakes of breath as he fought to control the panic. He felt himself dragged forwards, legs trailing . Thrown. No co-ordination yet, his face hit a metal floor. Doors slammed. A Vehicle. Movement again. He lay still, waiting for his vision to clear. Waiting to see where they'd take him.

FBI HEADQUARTERS

Jack Malone was pacing his office. Normally, he wasn't a man who paced. Stormed. Brooded maybe. And yeah, occasionally he blew. The glass wall of his office a testament to that. Most days though he maintained his controlled, some would say distant manner. But now he paced.

The two others in the office sat and watched him. Expectant.

He forced himself to stop. To perch on the edge of his desk and to speak calmly.

"You know this'll leave us short. Worse than we are at the moment."

It was a statement, not a question and the Deputy Commander nodded. She knew the drawbacks but her face showed acceptance. Her voice was persuasive.

"Jack, this is a great opportunity. A great chance. It's fallen in our lap and I agree with Special Agent Morrrison that we should pursue it."

Clive Morrison raised his eyes to Jack's and held them. He inclined his head in acknowledgement of their boss's support.

He was the same height as Jack. Slim beside Jack's broad and solid build with a physique that spoke of time spent in the gym. He wore a dark suit of course, as expected by the Bureau, but it was a better cut than most. He had the air of someone who took a lot of care of himself. Jack glanced at what had to be manicured nails, his hair was regulation short and his jaw was so clean-shaven it practically shone. Oh yeah, this guy cared about his image alright.

"Jack, I realise it's difficult but I hope you won't stand in the way of this."

Authoritative, a little monotone, but Jack heard more. There was a threat in the words. He recognised what was happening here. Clive Morrison was maneuvering.

Still in his early forties, he was young to have reached the position of department head, albeit a relatively new department. He had yet to prove it's worth. Or his own. Now his eye was on an endgame as surely as a politician who'd spotted a vote winning cause.

He believed he had backing and would push ahead, with or without Jack's assistance or even approval.

Morrison's tone was aimed at Jack but intended also for DC Eleanor Brucknor, to convey a reasonability, a willingness to follow procedure but also a bold determination.

Huh! And an ambition as big as the Empire State!

Jack sighed heavily. There was nothing left to do.

"Agent Taylor's on his way in – I'll send him on up to you."

Morrison held out a hand as the two rose to leave. Jack hesitated for only the briefest moment but both men knew as they parted that it was noted.

Danny Taylor arrived in Jack's office with a question written all over his face.

Jack had the answer but was loathe to give it. However, this wasn't his call. He had to remind himself of that as he outlined the briefest of details. He watched Danny closely and he knew how the conversation would end.

"You know you don't have to take it. It's some years since you did undercover like this. This is more than a couple of days we're talking."

Danny had been still. He wasn't usually a man to be still. His energy escaped in quick moves and quick wit. Big gestures and a fast loose limbed walk. That was Danny. Rapid fire speech and a handsome face that betrayed emotion. In light of what they were discussing, Jack worried about that.

Danny leaned back into the sofa that filled one wall of the office. Someone had clearly felt that soft furnishings would help ease the blow of bad news for the countless relatives of missing people that Jack and his team dealt with. Today though it didn't lend a lot of comfort.

Danny was struggling with inner uncertainties and doubts. His relaxed posture – long arms spread along the back of the seat, one leg loosely crossed over the other – belied what Jack knew was tense deliberation.

He blew out a long held breathe towards the ceiling. His manner was conversational.

"You know Jack, there were a lot of years I didn't see my brother. For a while I even tried to convince myself I didn't have a brother. He led me places I didn't want to go....you know?"

He looked at Jack as if seeking approval and Jack nodded because, yes, he did know.

Danny's personnel record with the FBI told a lot – a written compilation of a troubled life-story which included the death of his parents, foster homes and involvement in street and gang crime as a kid. There was more of course and Jack had learned some of it in the years they had worked together. Danny rarely opened up but sometimes life leaves scars and Jack had been witness to their effect. In the way he conducted himself on the street. The way he talked with some of the low-lifes they dealt with daily. The disdain he held for bullying authority and the empathy he showed for its victims.

"I've never heard of this guy Romano. But then my brother has never talked about his time inside." His laugh held little humour. "Even when I seem him now at visiting he pretends he's not there."

He paused before going on. "We get on better now. I wish I'd been there to help him before..."

Jack knew what Danny was referring to but had little sympathy with where he was going.

Danny's older brother Rafael had chosen his own route. It had landed him in any number of prisons – the latest after messing up his parole and opting again for the destructive combination of drugs and crime. Psychologists would point to a miserable and abusive childhood as an excuse but a guy makes his own decisions and Jack didn't want Danny to allow unfounded guilt to influence him now.

He interrupted him with certainty. "He wouldn't have let you."

Danny raised his eyebrows and his lips thinned into a quirky smile. He knew what Jack was doing.

"Yeah, maybe, but this could really make a difference to him...If they're willing to cut him a deal he's got another shot..." He shook his head. "Rafi...He's got a beautiful family and he could be with them. The last time...he was trying to do the right thing by them. It just..." He shrugged. "...It just got away from him."

Jack leaned forward in his chair. He'd never spoken of it to Danny but he knew that he supported his brother's family now. Yes, Rafi's wife worked, but a nurse's salary didn't go far with a baby and an eight year old at home. It was Uncle Danny who paid most of the bills. It was a responsibility that Jack had seen take it's toll on his agent. A weariness followed him sometimes – a weight he didn't deserve to carry.

They sat in companionable silence. When Danny spoke, Jack already knew what he'd say.

"I'd better get up there and find out more about it."

Jack felt his own weariness then. The weight of inevitability. He nodded and they rose together to stand face to face.

"It's gonna leave you short."

Yeah! Trust Danny to worry about the rest of the team. He smiled and waved a get-outta-here gesture. Keep it light, the guy doesn't need extra worry.

"Don't kid yourself – we'll cope!"

Danny flashed a wide grin and ducked his head. He wasn't good at goodbyes.

"OK then. See you...uh...when it's done."

He turned and acknowledged Jack's "Good luck" as he left with a wave of his arm.