A/N: It has been far too long since I updated this story. I wasn't sure how to continue it. This chapter just came to me.... finally. I hope you like it. I hope you haven't given up on this story yet.


Chapter 19

Bobby sat at the dining table and watched as Hope slept across the room. She had slid into sleep minutes after returning from taking a shower. Her cat, Quills had curled up next to her and she held the cat like a child with a favored talisman, protecting her from evil.

He winced as he took a sip from the bitter and cold coffee in front of him. Quills caught the movement and seemed to offer up a soft meow of encouragement. Bobby snorted softly as he stroked at the days' growth of beard.

For the first time all day, he had the time to reflect on the days' events. The revelations of the day had struck them both hard. The only affected him tangentially - since he had come to care deeply about Hope and her well-being. But especially Hope, to discover the truth about her husband had struck her hard and wounded her deeply. Since then he had felt her pulling away from his ever since Nigel Whitledge walked in the house. He wondered if it was just the overwhelming events of the day or an indication of a deeper withdrawal.

He stretched and let his gaze take in the room, not really focusing on anything, until his eyes stopped at her desk. He knew there would be pen and paper there. He was tired but not sleepy. He leaned forward, slowly pushed himself up and walked over to the desk. Pulling out the chair, he eased himself into it. Opening the center draw he found the same paper and pens Hope had used to write her letters to him. Drawing out several sheets of paper and one of the pens, he rubbed at his heavy stubble on his cheeks, before leaning forward to start writing his own letter...

Who could have predicted this turn of events? That I would be the one to feel the need, the pull to take pen to paper, to pour my thoughts out to you. I'm finally seeing the world in a different way - thanks to you - and you're seeing it through a renewed veil of tears and pain - thanks to me. Here we are now and you're the one who is lost. I see your hurt, I see your tears and know there is nothing I can do, but let you go through the tears and the pain. And to let you know I am here.

With me it was the knowledge of the events of a life not my own that left me feeling betrayed and deserted in a deep and dark place. There was no one who was able to keep me from that precipitous descent. Do not allow the knowledge of the events of a life not your own to take the life that is yours from you. Let me be here to keep you from following the path I took.

Even in these few short hours since all that has happened and been learned today, I can feel you pulling away from your life, shrinking away from me. I beg of you, follow a different course. Every moment that we've spent together in these precious few days has seen each one become the new greatest moment of my life, and I will treasure each and every one forever. It is too soon though for these to exist merely in the past. It is the exhilarating thrill of anticipation of the next greatest moment that has finally cast aside my thoughts of missed opportunities and regret.

He read over what he'd just written. He'd intentionally tried to mimic the 19th century tone of her letters to him. He hoped it didn't ring false. Folding the sheet of paper in half, he rose and balanced it against the half full mug of tea he'd made for Hope, which she'd barely sipped before falling asleep. He watched her for a minute longer, again attracting Quill's attention. The feline meowed softly and without thinking Bobby reached out to scratch the top of its head, before turning away to leave the apartment. He was torn between not wanting her to wake up alone and not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable with his presence when she woke.

As he quietly closed the door behind him, he sneezed repeatedly. With a last glance at the closed door, he turned and walked to the elevator.


The repeated buzzing at his front door finally roused Bobby from a fitful sleep. Groggily he stumbled to his feet and looked at the clock on his way to answer the door. 7:30. He'd slept for nearly three hours.

"Yeah... hang on. I'm coming." Pulling the door open, he was surprised to see Sir Nigel Whitledge standing in front of him, shaved, showered and impeccably dressed. He wondered what the man thought of his disheveled appearance.

"Detective Goren, I realize it's early, but if I could have just a moment of your time."

Bobby nodded, stepping aside to allow the man to enter as he muttered, "Sure..." What did Sir Nigel need from him?

Nigel slowly advanced into the room. Bobby watched him silently. Nigel continued to the window, staring out into the early morning light. Indicating the view outside the window, he asked, "Which one is..." hesitating for a moment, "...Hope's?"

Not answering, Bobby asked, "What do you want, Sir Nigel? "

"So much for pleasantries. Right down to it. Cut to the chase. That's the American Way. All right, then. I came to ask you how she... how Hope is doing. I admit, I was surprised to hear you'd left her alone."

Bobby bristled at the implication. "Hope is doing pretty much how you would imagine. Not so good." Bobby joined Sir Nigel at the window and glanced towards Hope's apartment, hoping to see signs of activity. He didn't.

"I imagine this complicates ... things between you." Nigel turned to see the effect of his words.

Bobby brought his arms up across his chest, but didn't answer.

"You're right. It is not any business of mine. Other than, I do care about her… Hope's welfare. And have done so, for a very long time." Still met with Bobby's silence, Nigel turned back to stare out the window before cautiously continuing. "I know about the letters, I've known about them since they began." He glanced up quickly when he sensed Goren tense. "I can imagine that the... the connection between you two is deeper than the relatively short amount of time since you met would normally suggest." He wasn't going to admit to the rather intimidating detective that he had received copies of the letters, not just Hope's to him, but his to her as well. Or that he had read them.

Glancing again at the still silent man, "I came here in the hope of asking for your assistance in ..."

"In watching Hope for you."

"Yes... but much more than watching Hope, as you say. I need your assistance in protecting Hope. There's still..."

Bobby held out a hand to silence him. "I think you should leave. Now." Bobby turned and began to walk back to the door.

"No, Detective Goren." Sir Nigel's voice boomed. He was Britain's Home Secretary, and was used to a certain amount of deference. "I will not leave until you have heard me out. Hope could still be in a great deal of danger. In fact, I doubt that yesterday's events have changed things very much at all."

Bobby stopped in his tracks and turned back to face the diplomat.

"You must understand that what I am about to tell you is a complete breach of security and all highly classified. If what I'm about to tell were ever to become public knowledge, there would be hell to pay. I have been briefed on both your military service records and your career as a police officer. I believe that in telling you these things, I have made the only choice available to me. I feel I have very little recourse but to trust you implicitly."

Nigel took a deep breath and expelled it forcefully before continuing. He was pleased to see the look of shock on Goren's face quickly being replaced by one of understanding. This might be easier than I thought.

"The people I have trusted to protect Hope until now, are very likely compromised. I will not trust just anyone with her safety. I know how dangerous the opposition can be and I find myself in the position of having little choice but to trust you."

"The likelihood of danger to Hope is still very real. We believe that she possesses the account passwords for two Saudi bank accounts with balances totally over £20,000,000. The proceeds of illicit arms and information sales and we further believe that the man responsible will not come after Hope himself."

Bobby watched, as Sir Nigel seemed to age before him. Slowly the man lowered himself into a chair.

"The man after those passwords is my son. David is still alive. And he is a traitor."

Sir Nigel's revelation rocked Bobby back on his heels. He sat down heavily, in a chair opposite the man. His mind racing as he stared down at the rug under his feet.

"How is it that Hope believes…"

"That David died in the attack?" Sir Nigel finished. "There was certainly enough circumstantial evidence to suggest it. He shielded her from the attack. An attack that we have for some time believed David planned with the intent to kill her. After the attack and her recovery, it seemed a good strategy to have her believe that fantasy. The life she had known was over. David had vanished along with his accomplice."

"Paul Harris." Bobby stated.

Nigel nodded. "That's one of the name's he has gone by." Nigel continued with his narrative, "As I'm sure you are aware, there are drugs that make the mind susceptible to suggestion. Most of what Hope 'remembers' about the days immediately before the attack have been 'suggested' to her for her own protection."

"So, you don't suspect Hope of any involvement…" Bobby leaned forward, his interest and concern now piqued.

"… with the traitorous acts of my son. No, I do not. Neither does any agency of the British government. She tried to contact me several times in the days before the accident and attack. I mistakenly assumed it was a personal matter and put off calling her back. A decision I obviously regret immensely. I was in the middle of very tense negotiations and…" His excuse died on his lips as he remembered the unreturned phone calls. "Several days after the attack, I received a computer disc from Hope. She had already been transported back to London, by this time. It contained scanned copies of documents, documents containing information about the security arrangements of British national interests, both in Great Britain and abroad. It also contained the names of covert agents and their cover identities. Information that David had been or was about to sell. We quickly pulled our agents out, crippling our intelligence efforts for years to come, and set about changing our security protocols."

"But the damage was done." Bobby had turned his gaze to the window and stared out at the limited skyline he could see. "So, for the past several years, have you been protecting Hope or using her as bait to lure David after her?"

"I'm not proud to admit that it is, of necessity, a bit of both." Nigel admitted. "There's no going back. We must now assume that David knows that she is here in New York. Unfortunately, I led him right to her. Saljah Salid, or Paul Harris as you know him, surely would have contacted David."

"Is… was Salid involved with the attack in Cairo?"

"We continued to watch him, but he never gave us any indication that he was or that he was in contact with anyone who was. But there is now no way to know for sure."

Bobby looked up quickly as Sir Nigel continued, "Saljah Salid ingested cyanide during his transfer to British custody just over," he paused as he looked down at his watch, "four hours ago."

Bobby stared back at the man, not knowing what to say.


Hope woke suddenly, startled by the raspy ministrations of Quills tongue licking at her face. Confusion assaulted her. The last memory she had was of Nigel arriving at the cabin retreat of Bobby's friends. How did she get back to her apartment, and why was she on the sofa? Where was Bobby?

She sat up slowly, as Quills nudged her to more. "I get it… you want to be fed, don't you?"

She saw the note with her name on it propped up against her favorite mug. Reaching for it as she stood and…

Everything that happened yesterday slammed into her with a physical force that doubled her up and dropped her to her knees. The pain so sharp and piercingly intense it caused her to cry out. Dry heaves crumpled her to her hands and knees and she began to crawl towards the bathroom. Tears streamed down her face as she slid down even further, until she lay on the floor curled into a fetal position to protect herself from the pain and the memories. She felt the room going dark.


"She has to be told. She needs to know the danger she could be in and she deserves to know the truth about what happened and her role in it."

"I have wrestled with this for sometime now," Seeing Goren about to object, he held up his hand to stop him. "but, I believe you are right. It may even be time to see if she can remember the passwords."

Bobby looked up in surprise. "We did try to get the passwords from her after the accident. She didn't remember them. Amongst the documents included on the disc she sent me, she included the information that she had learned of David's secret accounts and had transferred the funds to the Saudi banks. She didn't provide the account numbers or passwords. We've assumed she believed the information would keep her alive if David ever found out. When we discovered she had no memory of them, we did what we could to protect her, part of that included suggesting that she had no idea about David's activities."

Hope woke to the sound of loud pounding. Through the door she could hear Bobby shouting her name. Weakly she called out, "coming. I'm coming."

She doubted he could hear her over the pounding, so she tried again. Calling out in a slightly stronger voice, "I'm coming."

The door slammed open before she reached it, and Bobby was propelled into the room by the force used to break down the door. Startled, she staggered back.

Shocked, she shouted at him, "I… I said I was coming."

Bobby reached her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She felt her confusion sliding away. Comprehension hit her almost as forcefully as her earlier pain. The pain of yesterday's events was slowly easing its grip on her. She remembered the devastating details, but the pain was receding into a dull ache. In a flash of understanding, she realized the important role Bobby had played, not just yesterday, but in the days and months leading up to it.

Almost as one, they said, "It's going to be all right."

"I hope you are right, but that remains to be seen." Startled, Hope turned to see Nigel standing in the doorway.

"We have a great deal to discuss, Hope. I don't feel that this is the place to do it, though. We should go."

Hope looked up at Bobby, who merely nodded his agreement.

"Where?" She asked as she saw the look pass between the two men.

"One Police Plaza." Sir Nigel answered.