Chapter 3

Memories

Joe's POV

The white light pierces my closed eyes, I must be dead. And in heaven. I muse. There's no heaven for me, not with the things I've done in my life, says some part of my conscience. Now, where had that come from? What had I done? I asked myself.

The image of a man flashed behind my lids. Who was he? I tried to grasp the name for a few seconds, Matt-Matthew…Morgan, yes that name belonged to the face, but why did it caused so much guilt? Who am I? I asked myself, and a part of me quickly replied 'Joe Solomon' .Good, I knew my name. The white light continue to coax me into opening my eyes, but something told me I shouldn't, not until I knew who, where, and why I was in this situation.

That's when I became aware of continuous beeping and the feeling of a pricking needle in my wrist. I wasn't dead, I knew that much. I was on a hospital or the like. I tried reeling my mind to remember what I had last seen and nothing but blackness came then, all of a sudden a memory flooded my mind and I allowed myself to be wholly submerged in it.

"Matthew, open the door and let me in now." The young man that was me demanded, standing outside an apartment door pressing on the buzzer.

"Who's there?" came the voice from the buzzer, who I could tell already knew who exactly I was. I sighed, chuckling lightly.

"Matthew Morgan, open the door now and let me in! its freezing and wet!" I stated, laughter detectable in my voice.

"Password?" Came again the teasing voice from the buzzer.

I rolled my eyes. "You are an idiot," I replied."

"incorrct." Matt replies still teasing.

"Mathew Morgan, last time, open the door before I knock it out. I assure you Rachel wouldn't like that."

"How do I know you are not a government operative seeking to recruit my daughter for a spy Academy of sorts?" He asks, enjoying my suffering.

"That is classified Sir. And just go ahead and press the camera button to see my face."

"Good idea." He said, unlocking the door and letting me in.

"Hey man, why the trouble in letting me in?" I say side-hugging him and giving him a pat on the back, getting his shirt wet. I proceed to take of my leather jacket andthrow it to him, just to get him wet. He catches it and hangs it on the rack next to the door. I shake my head slightly to get all the extra wetness out.

"I have to protect my daughter and wife, now are you sure you are not a recruiting agent for a spy school, or worst…the Circle?" he asks playfully.

"I don't know how you have the nerve to joke about the Circle and no, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a few more years for the recruiting agent, you girl is barely two. Talking of which, where's the little Chameleon and her mother?"

"Rache is taking a nap, and I think Cammie is too, but, let me go and fetch her." He says leaving me at the small living room to make myself comfortable, which I do, as I take a seat on the comfy, red leather sofa.

Moments later he appears at the door, carrying a somnolent girl in his arms. She deftly catches a glimpse of me. "Ank Oweey!" she exclaims, which I take for 'Uncle Joey' and promise myself to murder Matt for teaching her to address me as such. But then she stretches out her small tender hands, signaling for me to take her and I forget that promise. My heart melts and soon I'm taking her away from Matt's arms and cradle her in mine. Matt takes a seat across me, watching in amusement as Cammie snuggles to me and lays her head on my chest.

"Are you tired, Sweetie? " I ask, my tender tone voice surprising even me. She nods and snuggles closer and I'm compelled to place my arm around her for protection and within seconds, her breathing slows as she drifts away into dreams.

Matt gives a low chuckle of contentment.

"She likes you." He says, pointing out the obvious. I roll my eyes, not meeting his as I softly caress the angelic, innocent face lying against me.

"I now see why you didn't want to let me in; I wouldn't want her to have our life either." I try to joke.

"I don't." he replies and the way he says it makes me turn to look at him. He is not meeting my eyes, instead, a distant look has crossed his eyes and I know that he's thinking about our on-going mission.

"Hey-Hey look at me Matthew-, "I demand softly, and he does, his eyes meeting mine defiantly, not wanting me to repeat the empty words 'it's gonna be okay', but I do anyway because that's what he needs to hear.

"It's gonna be okay. This thing, this mission we are carrying on is going to be over, maybe not today nor in a decade, but it's gonna come to an end someday, and then you can possibly start thinking about retiring."

"But what if something happens to my girls?" He asks, as I if I knew the answer to everything, which I kind of do, but I'm not psychic. Anyway, I know what I'm talking about.

"Rachel is a strong woman she knows how to take care of herself and God help whoever threatens her little girl."

"Still, I wish I could opt out of this." He says his voice despairing and a twinge of insecurity races through me, because even now there's a possibility we might never achieve this together, but still there's a chance we might, but alone I can't. I cannot take on them alone and he knows that.

"Oh no, Matt, you don't, we don't. We keep at it, we have to bring them down, and this is the only chance we've got."

"I know, Joe, it was only a fleeting thought. I know we have to keep at this. But, what if something happens to me? What if I die and no one is there for my family?"

"That's not going to happen, Matt, you are the best man the Agency's got."

He shakes his head; even this brings no comfort, actually the best ones in our profession are the most targeted, the ones with more enemies, so I say nothing else and he resumes looking into nothingness, while my eyes fall back on Cammie.

I soon feel his eyes on me and on his little girl.

"Joe?" He asks, demanding my attention.

"Matt?" I reply, glancing at him, smirking. He ignores my teasing tone.

"Promise me, please promise me that if anything ever happens to me, promise me you'll take care of Rachel and Cammie."

"Nothing is gonna happen to you, mate."

"Promise me." He demands sternly.

I look back down at Cammie, and think of her strong, beautiful mother and how even now I feel the need to protect them both.

"Okay, I promise you I'll take care of them, I'll even get a job at the Academy when the time comes if it sooths you." I say, joking about the Academy, knowing that we won't possibly need to go to such lengths.

He smiles, "I'll get you that job even if nothing happens to me, I don't trust anyone else to prepare my girl for this profession of ours."

"I won't need the job if you are alive, she'll learn well enough from you. Besides, old Buckingham will be thrilled to have another Cameron in her class."

The memory dissolves and the white light continues to pierce at me. Matt, Cammie. Where's Cammie? The image of me turning to face a room full of uniform clad students invades my mind, and seated to the right I see, Cammie, Ms. Morgan, a small part of my brain corrects, using the most familiar type of addressing, meaning I did end up teaching at the Academy. Guilt and sadness curse through me, as I realize it probably means that something happened to Matt.

Another memory takes me by surprise …I'm at a small private airport. I watch from a distance as Matthew hugs his wife and through the comms unit I hear as he whispers something along the lines of ' I love you, I'll be back soon.' And then he turns to hug Cammie, now around the age of 12. I listen as she promises to behave, and he promises to take care of himself. That seems to suffice for the three of them and Rachel and Cammie are escorted inside the airport.

I walk to him.

"Sixteen long years to get here and I'm not allowed to go." I say longingly.

"Well, it's your fault the Deputy Director is suspicious of us."

We both chuckle, we should have kept our excitement more under control. I stare at the automatic glass doors, through where Cammie and Rachel had entered the building.

"So this might be it." I muse.

"Yup, if the breakthrough provides us with good information, we might really have a shot at them."

We both smile, allowing the small amount of chicken feed to uplift our spirits.

"Be careful now, take care of yourself."

"Of course I will, and you keep an eye on my girls, and in case I don't come back, you get back into their lives."

"I've been out of their lives for so long;-I don't think they need me in them, anymore.-"

"But you get back to them, sir." He cuts me out, and I acknowledge it with a nod.

"Besides," I continue," you are coming back. "

I say, wishing more than anything to be a constant figure in their lives, but we both decided, nearly ten years ago, that for everyone's safety, it would be convenient to alienate his family as much as we could from this.

The roar of the small private jet starts in the distance, signaling for Matt to hurry up, I give him a pat in the shoulder.

"Take care Matthew or I'll kill you." I say moving my hand to remove the pen with a microphone and camera from his pocket and replacing it with a microphone-less replica. He shakes his head in silent laughter before he turns to walk away and I need to get out of here before someone misses me back at The Agency.

My brain blacks out for a few minutes, looking for another significant memory, and then it starts.

I'm at a desk, looking down at a paper filled with encryptions, I feel a small vibration in my pocket and get out the small, untraceable and unregistered cell phone out.

'Get safe. I'm calling.' Reads the text, cueing me to go somewhere where we won't be over heard. I recognize the number as being that of the cutout person we are using.

I do so and find myself in a storage closet, and after I break a few mops with cameras and brooms with microphones, I'm safe.

'I'm safe.' I quickly text back and the phone vibrates again, this time with a call, I don't hesitate in picking up.

"Yes?"

"Heracles,"

"Here, Heracles, what has happen Hermes, any information? Has Adonis arrived?" I say, resisting the cringe it causes to speak those names.

'That's what I'm afraid of sir; he hasn't made contact with me yet. He did not appear to our meeting yesterday."

Damn it, Matt.

"Thanks, begin backup protocols immediately, I shall start backtracking immediately, too."

I close shut the cell phone, internally cursing Matt, the Circle, and my life itself.

The next memories appear in a sort of montage. I board a small jet, I land on a transited airport and lose myself in the crowd, then the scenery changes and I have successfully sneaked into the small cottage/safe house in Athens and then it all slows down, gone is the blurriness around the edges, and I see it quite clearly as I slowly open the door, dreadful of what I may or may not encounter upon entering. I get over it, and quickly shove the door open. My fears are confirmed as I switch on the light.

Everything, everything it's on its place, neat and organized and covered with a coat of dust, just as I left it before my departure a few months ago-sans the dust. Nothing indicates he might be here. Still, I go to check the bed, and find the sheets un-slept in and the realization sinks in. He never made it this far, and this was one of the first places he should have made it to.

Do not panic I keep repeating, thinking of reasons he is not here, but the only reason is that he was intercepted. There must have been a change of plans, the part of me that is optimistic whispers, but the spy and friend in me deny it. If there would have been, I would have gotten word already.

Emotion over takes me. "Damn it, Matt!" I curse, hitting the wall in utter frustration. Our best chance in nearly 16 years was gone, along with the hope we'd harbor for it. Gone. And now-it appears- I had lost the other half of my team.

The spy in me kicks in; I have to make sure I don't leave loose ends before heading back to Langley. And then, and then I must wait and hope Matt is okay, before I alert the Agency, alert them of our unauthorized Covert Operations we had conducted.

I see myself back at Langley, speaking to the Deputy Director. He makes a phone call and the full force of the agency starts its search for Matt. "Someone has to tell Rachel." The director whispers, before turning on his heel and leaving.

Someone has to tell Rachel.

The memory changes again, and looking at myself it seems like time has passed, but I don't know how much.

I find myself in the Gallagher Subs. Suspended about fifty feet above ground, suspended by the strongest and thinnest cables the Agency could manufacture. I'm aided by a small flashlight. I hold it in my mouth as I scribbled a note I hope Cammie will never read, but having to write it nonetheless, because the chances she will have to are great. I finish the letter and tuck it inside the spiral book I also hope she'll never read. A sigh of exasperation escapes me.

The man who had hurt Abby had started talking, it was just a matter of time before they start looking for me, and the truth is too complicated to try to explain, so I have to flee as soon as possible, before morning dawns. I have to hide, get off the grid and stay of the grid soon. But not before talking to Cammie, not before leading her here, so that she can know the truth, so that at least someone can know the truth and so that someday she can forgive me.

I tuck in the spiral notebook into a high shelf and lower the cables unto the ground. I look up at the small air shaft, the only viable entrance which they will be able to use. Trust them, they'll find their way in, my mind reassures me, knowing Cammie won't try to do this alone. It will be at least 2 hours before I can trigger all the tramps that will keep this safe and then I will be off, talk to Cammie, and disappear.

Guilt at having to keep Zach in suspense was killing me, but I will see him in a week's time, or probably not. I have to keep him safe too; he is just as important to me as Cammie is. I know he can handle enough information, but for now, everyone, including him will be safer if he remains on the dark side.

Finally, the memory fades and my mind falls into darkness, I try to reel up another memory, but my brain refuses, telling me that that's enough information for now, telling me to rest, and so I succumb to darkness.

A/N: This took some time to write. What do you think of it? I really hope you enjoyed. Reviews are greatly appreciated!