Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
"The father is a friend's husband… I made a really stupid mistake…" Emma was sniveling, but nobody felt inclined to give her a handkerchief. Finally Chance stepped in.
"Seems to becoming a habit lately", Ilsa commented her explanation, not a hint of sympathy in her voice.
Let me guess, you were drunk and lonely? Was what Ames initially wanted to say, but she stopped herself at the last moment, actually clasping her mouth with her hand. Jeez, Ames, Chance AND Ilsa are around, you really want to send them on another guilt trip? And what if they come up with some sort of who are we to throw the first stone-philosophy? That bitch doesn't deserve understanding, definitely not!
"Skip to the interesting part, dude. We already know you're pretty good at messing up things. Why the trackers?" The meal they had cooked obviously found Guerrero's appreciation. He was already half-way through his portion.
Winston started pulling up chairs for all of them. So far they had been standing around Emma in a mixture of relief, shock, anger and astonishment.
Only Guerrero remained leaning against the wall, shoveling food into his mouth as if he hadn't eaten for days. Ilsa couldn't help but wonder – was he relieved, too?
Chance was sitting a little apart from the others. At first Ames wondered if he was somewhat angry with Guerrero for the whole killing Emma issue since he was sitting furthest away from him. Then she realized it was a strategic position: Between the two she had no chance to escape, even if she somehow managed to get past Winston.
Never underestimate FBI training.
"The baby is the reason I tried to…" Emma hesitated, swallowed, than decided it didn't matter anyway "…con you."
"Yeah, blame it on the unborn…", Ames scoffed.
"I made this stupid mistake back in Washington… A raid not going quite as planned…"
"Habit. Obviously." Ilsa got up to get herself something to eat, too.
"They wanted to fire me! I needed to do something! How am I supposed to support the baby without a proper job?"
Even Chance now rolled his eyes.
"Well, you'll somehow have to, because you're definitely not staying with the Bureau", Guerrero munched, then went to join Ilsa in the kitchen.
"What…? What are you going to do?" Emma's eyes widened as a couple of different horror scenarios regarding her career sprung up in her imagination.
"First the rest of the story, dude!", came the muffled reply from the kitchen area and then the sound of the oven being opened and closed. "What were you planning?"
Winston decided he needed to get some food, too, before Ilsa and Guerrero finished it off between them. He waited, however, till Guerrero returned, to keep Emma safely positioned between them.
"I was only after Guerrero…" Even to Emma's ears, this sounded idiotic, considering how tight-knit this group was. And judging from Chance's face… he was angry… she remembered the night in Washington, when he had told her about that woman he had failed to protect… Kitty? Kessy? Whatever… Emma realized that her behavior was probably very disappointing to him, on far more than simply a professional level. He had trusted her with something very personal… She closed her eyes, face burning. How in the world had she managed to end this deep in trouble?
"Neither Bureau nor CIA could nail you with anything, so I had the idea to make you commit a crime and have you arrested for that…", she continued, eyes still closed. The look on Chance's face… in a way so much worse than the gun in Guerrero's hand earlier. "The trackers were supposed to help me find you, should you manage to escape…"
Impatient tapping on the arm of a chair made Emma open her eyes again. Chance was gone, judging from the sounds coming from the kitchen, he was getting something to eat now. Ah yes, and there he was, with two plates. Two plates? Was he maybe remembering that she hadn't eaten anything for hours and that she was having to feed someone else, too?
No. He handed the plate to Ames, who had produced that enervating tapping sound. "What were you planning?", she hissed, then gratefully accepted the plate from Chance.
Was there something going on between the two? Emma felt a pang of jealousy.
Suddenly someone grabbed the chair she was sitting on and tilted it backwards. Guerrero, no plate in hands, his face so close, she could smell the food he had just eaten on his breath. "You're playing with your future here, Emma. So far I'm only going to get you fired…"
"I planned to make you break into United States Penitentiary ADX Florence in Colorado to free G. Brax' younger brother, B. Brax…", Emma hectically explained.
Guerrero put the chair back on his four legs, his face grave as from a funeral.
G. Brax.
Even Ilsa knew the name – Brax controlled whole countries in Asia and Africa. He was extremely dangerous. Marshall once had tried to mess with some of his henchmen in Lithuania and the Foundation had ended up having to pay bribe money to free some of their employees. Marshall's biggest defeat.
"Bloody hell, you don't do things by half, do you?", she blurted out.
"I thought if I inform G. Brax about a Washington snitch in his organization you'll want to protect that snitch, Grunnit is his name, he's got kids and a sick wife… and the only way to get someone out of Brax' claws is to barter with him, so you would have no choice but to break in there and at that very moment…" Emma spoke very fast, hoping in vain that she would feel less sneaky and ungrateful if she did so.
Stunned silence for a long moment. This was evil.
It was Chance who finally spoke up, the first time he said anything since she had sat down. "But you never got past the first step of the plan, the tracking cookies, did you?", he asked.
Emma took a deep breath. "Actually…"
Only now she realized that this particular information would not go down well with Chance.
"I sent Brax an e-mail about an hour before I went home…"
Every muscle in Chance's body seemed to tense, like a tiger's right before jumping at something. "And you're telling us only now? That Grunnit and his family… You put their lives in danger!"
"Hell, HE was pointing a gun at me!", she tried to defend herself, twisting to nod in the direction of Guerrero. "It kind of slipped my mind!"
Ilsa quickly took out her mobile and started dialing. This definitely required the jet. At the same time Guerrero was trying to reach a contact of his in Washington. "The name, Emma. Now", he told her.
"Looks like we've got a case", Ames put the plate aside and got up to get a gun.