Where we left Casey:
"Your tracks have remained surprisingly well hidden. I don't think anyone could put all the pieces together, and I don't think she will get much cooperation if she tries. It might be a good test of how deeply someone could penetrate your record, your history, and your covers."
"My wife as informational trace cell," Casey said flatly.
Paul shrugged. "We all know we have breaches. It might show us where some are."
Ghosts That Haunt—44
When they parted, Casey was no happier. At least he knew his wife wasn't leaving him—yet. He did as Paul Patterson asked, existed, worked the Buy More job, waited to see if the Ring would make an approach. He also watched what was going on with Bartowski, but it was Shaw who continued to draw his attention.
Walker apparently couldn't keep her legs closed when a handsome agent threw himself at her. Every time it happened, Bartowski moped, and after nearly three years of the level of intimacy being the kid's handler had provided, Casey couldn't completely shut off his concern for the younger man. Admittedly, he had encouraged Walker to treat Shaw as a mark, but Casey was surprised that history appeared to be repeating itself. It had been easy to see that she was falling for Bartowski, yet it genuinely appeared that Shaw was somehow winning her over. Walker put up a good fight against Shaw's charm, but she was losing it.
It didn't help that Chuck was finally turning into what they had thought he needed to be. The kid was getting good, and even though Casey knew he'd never be able to take that last step, knew Bartowski would never be able to kill, he considered the kid's blind spots. Walker was the biggest of those.
He wasn't sure if Walker blinded Chuck to the sorts of things he would normally notice or if his own innate sensibilities, his persistent view of humanity as basically good, kept him from seeing what he needed to see. Shaw was inconsistent as hell, and Casey was surprised that someone of Bartowski's intelligence hadn't noticed. The man wore an Annapolis shirt, but he had written papers at West Point. It might be understandable that Bartowski hadn't seen the disconnect, but the more damning fact was that apparently Walker hadn't, either. Shaw continually threw Bartowski into dangerous situations with no preparation, and while that could be written off as testing the Intersect's capabilities, it was a very dangerous kind of testing, especially since the man didn't use fail-safes. Casey had never really liked or trusted Shaw, and he was more and more suspicious of the other man as this played out.
Suspicious was Casey's default, though, so maybe it was just him.
One night he sat in his mostly empty apartment and cleaned the one weapon he had left. He dismissed the twinge at the idea that treason was the ultimate felony, but consoled himself that he hadn't exactly been convicted. He always found the task he'd taken up comforting. The familiar, automatic movements of his hands helped him focus, think. As he began to reassemble Riah's Glock, a couple of things fell into place for him. The first was that Shaw had done a lot to separate Bartowski from his handlers, undermine them, too. Riah, he remembered, had noticed that as well. The second was that Shaw had gone after Walker, but he never seemed to seal the deal. He'd done more to entice her but hold her at arm's length than Bartowski ever could have dreamed of doing. Of course, Bartowski had a thing for brunettes, a thing Casey could understand, but like Casey himself, the kid's heart belonged to a blonde.
Casey also acknowledged that the Ring wasn't going for the attractive target his superiors had made, and if this wasn't going to work and irreparably damaged his marriage, he would never forgive Beckman or Paul Patterson. Hell, he'd never forgive himself.
There were, however, some advantages to being on the outside. When he realized Chuck was being given a red test, that Chuck really didn't understand what he'd have to do to get his second fondest wish, he followed the kid. Bartowski kept coming to him for advice, so he knew. He was amused when the kid gave him the gun from Castle, but it gave him a way to do what needed to be done without anyone being the wiser. So he thanked Bartowski for his "thoughtful felony," and he did the deed he knew Chuck would never be able to do—hoped like hell the man he executed for Chuck deserved it. The added bonus was the bullet would be matched to a weapon Chuck could be connected to, so there wouldn't be any uncomfortable questions about whether or not Bartowski followed orders.
He did it not because being a real spy was Bartowski's wet dream but because Casey couldn't afford to provide them the opportunity to separate Chuck and Walker. He had a feeling that keeping the two in Los Angeles, and Shaw with them, was vitally important, and he knew his partner and Bartowski well enough to know neither could let the other go. He counted on Bartowski not being able to leave Ellie behind and on Walker not being able to separate from Chuck.
That made him think of Riah again, and he spent an uncomfortable night with the scotch bottle.
He occupied space and did what he did best—waited, watched. Then came the night Bartowski and Grimes woke him up and yammered at him about Shaw until he absorbed enough caffeine to realize what they were telling him. At that point, he could either play the hand he'd been dealt and leave it to others, or he could interfere. He was determined to do the first, but he couldn't stand Bartowski's pleading, and it finally dawned on him as he came more alert that Walker was in real jeopardy and no one at the CIA would believe it. Casey felt responsible for Walker's predicament since he'd told her to spy on Shaw. He'd sent Grimes upstairs for his suit and called in favors to set things rolling.
It figured Chuck would finally deliver proof he was capable of doing the job for real when Walker was under mortal threat. He gave the kid points for pulling his act together and doing what needed to be done despite the kid's lingering hero worship of Shaw. Casey sent him and Walker off with a promise to take in the Ring Director. As soon as they were gone, he made sure the Director wasn't waking up any time soon, searched the man and located a hotel key. He secured him, and then he made a phone call.
Patterson sent someone to him. Casey grimaced at the woman who stood before him. Celia was a sore spot with his wife, and the reminder didn't make him happy. She handed him a secure phone and walked away. Paul was amused by Casey's report, and at the end of it, he told Casey, "This isn't the end result I wanted, but if Shaw was dirty, then there are others involved. He couldn't have done what he did, got away with what he did, unless someone was helping smooth his way. Leverage the Director with Diane. This will be a hell of a lot easier with you back in place."
Casey eyed Celia, several hundred feet away. "Beckman won't trust me if you haven't come clean with her."
"We don't know how far the Ring's infiltration goes. It may be best to leave Diane out of this particular loop for the moment. From what you said, she sided primarily with Daniel Shaw."
Casey absorbed that. "You think General Beckman's involved?"
He heard Patterson's sigh. "I don't know what to think anymore. This keeps going in directions no one could have predicted, and we don't even know if the Ring is the ultimate layer, or if, like Fulcrum, it's simply a cog in a bigger machine. Everyone's a suspect until we know, John."
Handing the phone back to Celia, he processed that. He didn't think for a moment that Beckman was disloyal. The General simply wasn't made that way. There was a reason Casey had always done well under her command, and that was due in no small part to the fact that he respected and trusted her—and not just her rank.
But she had played a little fast and loose with Bartowski, he acknowledged, had conspired to keep the kid the Intersect, had opted not to save Stephen Bartowski until Casey's team made an executive decision to do it anyway, and she had handed Chuck to Shaw. He ignored the execution order on Bartowski he had received a couple of years earlier. She had also dismissed him, fired him, and Casey would never have believed she would do that without a closer investigation than the one she had conducted. He was well aware she could have ordered him eliminated, and he supposed he ought to be glad she had been unwilling to go that additional step.
He wanted his job back, though, wanted his wife and daughter back, and if that meant a little blackmail, he would do it, especially now that he had a way to do it without having to take steps that would put a genuine target on him.
Celia said, "I thought you were fired."
Casey grunted rather than answer. She could read that how she wished. He still trusted his wife. He trusted Paul Patterson, trusted Bartowski and Walker, trusted V. H., instinctively believed he could trust Beckman despite his doubts, but he had a healthy distrust of pretty much everyone else at this point. First Fulcrum, now the Ring. At every step, he had faced betrayal, and personal betrayal at that. Celia was just another question mark on his list of known associates at this point.
A part of him enjoyed the negotiation with Beckman. He had made a few attempts to get his job back on Paul Patterson's orders. Patterson had maintained that anyone who knew Casey knew he wouldn't roll over that easily. Casey had countered that anyone who knew him would figure him for the bonus package to sign on with Xe, formerly known as Blackwater, to work as a private contractor. Casey had had a couple of offers from Xe and their competitors, but he had simply listened to the sales pitches then declined. Keller's example was too fresh in his mind, and he was certain he could go back to his real job, one way or another. He'd made a play to get on Bartowski's Rome team, mainly because one of them had to stick with the kid, and it was clear Walker wouldn't, but that had come to naught when the kid balked at taking the assignment.
So he blackmailed Beckman. She wasn't the sort to give in to such tactics, so it was telling to Casey that she capitulated and did so with relatively few protests. He wasn't sure what made him do it, other than he owed Bartowski—both good and bad—but he argued for Grimes's inclusion on the team. He figured Chuck would have to deal with the bearded idiot, would get a taste for what a pain in Casey's ass Bartowski had been.
He found the Director's passport, added a bit more sedative to the man's system, and took him to the airport. He gave a bullshit story about his buddy drinking a little too much and how they really needed to get back home—the wife, the boss, hey, you know how it goes—to the man at the gate. Eventually, they were let through and boarded.
Beckman took her revenge by putting Grimes under Casey's tutelage. Punishment, pure and simple. He caught a lucky break, though. Before he had to do anything much to actually train Grimes, he was told to go to Europe and find the AWOL Walker and Bartowski. He had no intention of taking Grimes, but the manchild knew Chuck so well he was invaluable for finding Bartowski. One misadventure after another, not to mention Grimes's annoying pretense at being a Canadian, and Casey found himself having rather uncomfortable heart to hearts with both Walker and Bartowski in a small café while they waited for Interpol to collect the Basque. He decided to let them go, but it went south, and they decided to go home with Casey.
At the airport, though, he ran into a friend of Riah's. Walker had thought nothing of it, especially since the guy worked for MI-6, and Bartowski and Grimes were engaged in geek speak, so when Brocklehurst told him ISI wanted to hear from him, he was able to talk to the man without interference. When the other man walked away, Casey strolled off and made the call.
"Change of plans," he said crisply when he rejoined the other three.
Walker's eyes narrowed, but it was Bartowski who asked how. Casey saw the eager, hungry look in the kid's eyes, and he knew Chuck was never going to voluntarily give this up. He knew what it was like, and he hoped the kid just found a way to stay alive and managed to not sell his soul the way Casey had. There would also be a new dynamic from now on. Walker would be Chuck's primary protection, and Casey's role would officially take on a new aspect. Of course if Walker flaked again, he'd make sure he was back on Bartowski.
"I'm stopping in Washington," he said. Adderly had spoken to Beckman, and he had to put in an appearance. Casey hid how worried he was about what might happen in that meeting. Casey was not unhappy, though he was concerned. He sincerely hoped it was the first step in getting his family home, but he knew it could be just about anything. Riah's father had said nothing about his daughter and granddaughter.
They separated at JFK; Casey boarded his flight to D.C. while the others headed to Los Angeles. When he didn't have Bartowski and Grimes chattering beside him, he gave some careful thought to why he was being summoned to D.C. He was met at the airport, and for a moment he thought Beckman was about to have him arrested for blackmailing her.
V. H. Adderly waited with Beckman in her office. Casey had a feeling that was not good. "Shaw's body has not been found," Beckman began.
"We're getting chatter that he's alive," V. H. added. "One of my operatives believes he saw him in Geneva shortly before you and the others arrived there."
Casey wanted to ask questions, but he kept his mouth shut. One of them would tell him why they brought him here for this, and they would likely do so more quickly if he didn't ask. General Beckman grimaced and said, "Mr. Bartowski and Ms. Walker are to continue believing Shaw's dead. I need them to drop their guards so we can flush him out if he is still alive."
Before he could ask, Adderly added, "Not long before Bartowski shot him, Shaw managed to pay a visit to Gray Laurance. He also visited a number of others who worked on Intersect projects, like your former adjutant Miles." He sighed. "I think he knows about Mariah, but at the moment it seems he's intent on getting revenge for his wife. As a result, he'll go after Walker again."
Beckman made a sour face again. "He's also visited Stephen Bartowski."
Casey controlled his expression. Shaw could legitimately demonstrate he was with the CIA, and while the elder Bartowski had no great love for the Company, he would comply with official requests if he believed it would help Chuck. Casey had to confess he was far more concerned about what Shaw knew about Riah than he was Walker. His partner could usually take care of herself—though she hadn't managed so well in Paris.
The General was speaking again. "You know what needs to be done, Casey. I need you to especially pay attention to Chuck Bartowski. His father tells us there are some unforeseen side effects to the Intersect, especially since this version was never intended for his son." She went on to detail possible mental deterioration Bartowski might experience, and Casey nearly asked if Mariah was subject to the same issues. He knew the answer to that, had seen the results of it in her, and he remembered his own discussion with Stephen Bartowski about his wife.
When she finished her orders, Beckman turned to look at Adderly. "Mr. Adderly and I need to discuss a different matter with you, Colonel."
V. H. looked a little chagrined when he handed over the executive summary to what turned out to be a much longer report. Casey stared, flabbergasted, at the words he read on the page. His first reaction was to be horrified that someone could, after all, put this all together. His second was to be proud of his wife. Riah had managed to find the truth about him and about Alexander Coburn. When he finished reading, he shot a glance at the other two.
"Now you know one of the reasons I kept her in ICOM for so long," Adderly said sheepishly. "She always thought it was because I wanted to keep her safe, and, I admit, that was part of it, but the reality is she's better at this than anyone who has worked there since I've been employed by ISI. I'd make her department head if I thought I could convince her to take the job."
Beckman gave Adderly an annoyed frown that shifted into one of her classic sour looks before she turned to Casey. "I would like to know, Colonel, how your wife convinced, based on the evidence in the full report, more than ten intelligence organizations to turn over their records related to you and to Alexander Coburn."
Casey would like to know that himself. Since he didn't know, he said nothing.
She raised a brow when he didn't answer. "And don't think I'm unaware of General Patterson's involvement in all this." He maintained his silence. When it was clear Casey had nothing to say, she sighed. "Adderly has asked for a favor, Colonel."
He went on alert, but he did his best not to show it.
"How would you like to see your wife and daughter?" Even if he had wanted to, Casey couldn't have stopped his reaction. Adderly grinned. "Diane says she needs you here a little longer, but I need to get back. Give me a call when you arrive."
When Adderly stood, Casey stood as well, shook his father-in-law's hand, and wished he could leave with V. H. when the other man excused himself. He didn't want to wait, didn't much care why Beckman still needed him; all he could think about was Riah and Victoria.
Beckman gave him a hard stare when he resumed his seat. She told him she had promised Adderly she wouldn't have the deportation order on his wife lifted until she and V. H. were satisfied there was no further threat to Riah or to Victoria. Casey couldn't argue with that, and he knew he would have his hands full with Shaw and whatever the other man had planned for Walker and Bartowski. She then grilled him about Bartowski, about his mental state. He answered as best he could. She asked about Grimes, but that was harder to answer. Casey eventually told Beckman he had his uses, but he could never be a full-fledged member of the team. He suspected, as he proceeded to tell her, that even Bartowski recognized that and wouldn't want his friend to ever be a real spy.
Casey finally told her, "In order to keep him in line, though, Grimes has got to think he has a role. He's unquestioningly loyal to Bartowski," a trait Casey privately admitted he admired. "If he thinks he's protecting Chuck, he'll do what's necessary, but he also thinks he needs to be involved. I think we can keep him on the periphery, and that's the best place for him."
She nodded grimly. They moved on to talking about Bartowski's brother-in-law. Casey conceded the man was unreliable, would crack easily if he continued to be involved. He told Beckman he was beginning to freak out, as Chuck would put it.
"Perhaps it's time to move Mr. Bartowski," she sighed.
Casey was not opposed. He'd be glad to quit playing Buy More salesman, and he presumed Bartowski would either be brought to D.C. or sent overseas. He doubted, however, and he told Beckman so, that the kid would willingly leave his sister behind and possibly unprotected.
"Maybe we can provide a distraction for the sister, one that will make Mr. Bartowski more willing to cut the apron strings," she said.
They discussed several options. After having listened to the Bartowski household for nearly three years, he knew Ellie's fondest wish, so he told Beckman about the fellowship Ellie coveted. He also told her Devon had talked her into joining Doctors without Borders and that the couple would leave soon for their assignment in Africa, so they discussed the relative merits of keeping the fellowship as a fallback to achieve their aim.
Eventually they circled back around to Shaw, and she was considerably more forthcoming than she had been in front of Adderly. By the time she finished, Casey left her office with an urge to get on the first flight to Los Angeles—that, or warn Walker. He would delay the first, and he had orders not to do the second. Given his precarious status, he wasn't risking another dismissal. With any luck, Walker wouldn't let her guard down, and hopefully Bartowski would have his up as well.
Early the next morning, a courier delivered the details for his afternoon flight to Ottawa. After he made coffee, he called V. H. at home since it was too early for the man to have left for work yet. A woman answered, and Casey nearly hung up. After a long pause during which he tried to place why the woman sounded familiar, he asked for V. H.
While he waited, he wondered if Riah knew her father had yet another girlfriend. He was all business when the other man came on the line, tersely gave him the flight number and arrival time. V. H. promised to meet him.
After another meeting with Beckman, this one off the books since she met him in civilian clothes at the Jefferson Memorial, he was on his way. They walked, talked more about Shaw, and Beckman was blunt about what she thought might actually be in play with the other man. Casey wondered if he ought to call in a few more favors. They might be in the conspiracy business at times, but he really disliked how this one seemed to be shaping up. If Shaw really was on the Ring's side and not its target, things were going to get very ugly—and downright deadly. The problem he had was who he could and couldn't trust—not to mention who would trust him. Beckman finally wished him luck. He returned the sentiment.
When he had driven home and collected his luggage before calling a cab to take him to the airport, he turned his attention to other matters. He would have only two nights and one day in Ottawa with Riah. He just hoped it was enough.
On the flight, he considered how pissed off his wife might be. She had worked hard, played a dangerous game to unravel the truth about his past, but that didn't mean she wouldn't be angry or that she wouldn't decide to divorce him after all. He hadn't told her about any of this, and he admitted in hindsight he had had several opportunities to not only come clean about Alex Coburn but to tell his wife about Kathleen McHugh. He had not done so, and given her father's romantic history, he wasn't entirely sure his wife would be in a very forgiving mood when he did.
Not, he admitted, that he could blame her if she wasn't.
On the surface of it, he had lied to her, lied to her about the most fundamental thing: his identity. While they were in a business that often meant they lied to civilians about who and what they were, Riah had had every reason to trust he had been honest with her. He had been, had promised more than once to be so except when it came to matters of national security, and she had accepted that. While he had never dreamed this part of his past would ever surface, he knew now he should have made a full disclosure about it to his wife.
Casey might not have known about Alexandra, about Kathleen's daughter, but he had nearly married the girl's mother, had genuinely loved her.
All Riah likely knew was that he had committed treason for a woman he loved, a woman, moreover, who wasn't her.
He rubbed his tired face. His wife, he'd learned, was capable of taking no prisoners, and he had to admit he suspected that was the woman he'd see when he arrived in Ottawa. Casey had no real idea what he was going to say to Riah that wouldn't sound either self-serving or manipulative. This was one time when he would have to tread lightly, something he freely admitted was not his particular forte, and he would have to read her carefully to make sure he didn't say something that would reinforce all the things she likely believed at this point. While he had to make her believe him, he suspected it was going to be more difficult than anything he'd ever had to do before.
It was funny, he thought as he waited for the flight attendant to serve him his scotch, but he wasn't sure he'd ever had a mission where the stakes were as high as they were with this visit. He loved his wife, loved his daughter, and if he got this even remotely wrong, he'd spend his life without either of them.
Which brought him right back to Kathleen and her daughter.
Instinctively, he shied away from thinking about Alexandra, and he especially tried not to think about the fact that she was his daughter as well. From the moment that wiseguy in the bar had insisted Casey looked familiar, he'd known it would unravel. If he'd been smart, he'd have gone home and told Riah about Alex Coburn, but Gruber killed the man, and Casey had seen no reason to bring up something that would cause both him and his wife pain. That Bartowski had flashed on the name but not Casey's connection to it should have told him something.
Casey hadn't realized how much pain that particular slice of his past held, though. Even if he had known about Alexandra, he still wasn't certain he would have told Riah, wasn't certain he wouldn't have decided that since he had no real interest in establishing contact with the girl that she was no threat to his life or his family. He admitted some curiosity about her, but she was a grown woman, and it was too late to try and establish a relationship with her. He suspected it would be cruel to do so. After all, he'd begun looking forward to the day he presumed was not long coming when he'd leave Mission Moron behind. He and his family would be the width of the continent away from Kathleen and her daughter, and neither would be a risk to him.
Keller, he thought, made the name a curse. If Keller had gone after Riah, after Victoria, he felt certain none of this would ever have come to light. Alex Coburn would have remained dead and long buried, and Casey's wife and child wouldn't have spent the last couple of months in another country.
He finished his scotch, considered asking for another. He realized he would most likely have had to tell Riah at some point. After all, there had been several people he might meet again who knew him as Alex Coburn. Need to know had been so ingrained in him, though, that he had chosen silence. After all, Lieutenant Coburn was more than twenty years dead and buried, and there had been no real threat that he would come back to haunt Casey anywhere but his dreams.
As he sat there, waited for the flight attendant to collect his empty glass, he decided that if Riah forgave him, he would tell her everything from this point forward that wouldn't jeopardize national security. He loved his country, he believed with his entire being that his service was necessary and right, but he would never again risk losing the family who, as he had been reminded time and again, should come first.
Beckman and his various masters would simply have to take that how they liked.
Of course, he had to get his wife to take him back first.
For some reason, he had thought V. H. would send someone to pick him up at the airport. Instead, his father-in-law came himself. Without a word, his driver took Casey's bag, and V. H. gestured toward the back seat.
"Mariah doesn't know you're coming," the other man told Casey once they were in the back and the car was on the move.
"Your daughter hates surprises more than anyone I know," he reminded V. H. "You should have told her."
"My daughter might well have packed up my granddaughter and taken off," he said drily. "That or you'd get a face full of Smith & Wesson when we turn up."
Casey considered and then reconsidered his response. "She's that mad?"
"She's a lot of things," V. H. confirmed, "and angry is just one of them." He sighed, added, "I don't know why I was feeling magnanimous, but I did you a favor and made sure that by the time we get there that's redirected at someone else."
The silence stretched for several minutes as Casey considered that. Curiosity got the better of him, and he finally asked, "Who?"
"Debi Wallace."
Despite the fact that V. H. was trying to do him a favor—or at least Casey was going to give him the benefit of the doubt—his choice of anger deflection left a lot to be desired. Casey had a history with Debi Wallace, and even though it wasn't much of a history, given what his wife currently thought, any history with another woman was likely to just set her off. "You couldn't have picked someone I don't know?" Wallace was a first-class, gold-plated bitch, and the last thing Casey needed was to try and mend a rift with his wife in front of a woman who had once tried to apply for the job. Well, maybe not wife, Casey acknowledged, but certainly she'd made it clear Casey's bed was an acceptable alternative.
Adderly sighed. "I really am going to have to shoot you, aren't I?"
For once, Casey chose to ignore that particular jibe. "Just tell me how Wallace connects."
V. H. looked embarrassed. "I'm dating her."
Casey read that as sleeping with her and realized Wallace was the woman he'd spoken to that morning. It was none of his business, but Casey would have thought the other man would have a little sensitivity for his daughter, who found many of her father's increasingly younger girlfriends repugnant. Debi Wallace wasn't, after all, much older than Riah herself and was the kind of woman who tended to make Riah angry since she relied on her looks and sexuality to get what she wanted.
His wife, Casey thought with a small grin, was very much a brains girl, and if she ever realized what she could do with her looks, he was going to have to dog her steps and kill the men who wanted to do more than simply look.
"I'm not sure I like that expression," V. H. said. "First, I'm aware you and Debi have a bit of history, and second, I suspect that look on your face means you're planning to molest my daughter—if you manage to convince her not to just kill you on sight."
"I plan to make love to my wife as soon as I've groveled appropriately," Casey growled, but there wasn't any heat in it. "As for Debi, I can't exactly call stealing your old kiss-to-hide-from-the-enemy ploy a history. Frankly, I question your fitness for command, given you're apparently letting Wallace molest you."
V. H. laughed. "I suspect she's telling my daughter it was something more than a kiss as deflection, and unless marrying you has made Mariah a worse judge of character than she has previously proven to be, you and I will be playing cleaners and disposing of a body before you get a chance to do any groveling."
"She has a temper," Casey admitted, "and that's going to be the problem." It was, too. He hadn't told Riah things he should have, fundamental things she had a right to know despite the fact that they were things he wasn't supposed to tell her. On the one hand, she had told him his past was the past, but on the other, it had become present and had caused her some very real pain. It had also cost her in very real, very tangible ways—him, too, for that matter. He wondered if she would ever fully trust him again, and he could hardly blame her if she didn't.
The bottom line was that he should have told her. He'd had more than one opportunity, but he'd remained silent. On the night they got married the first time, when he'd made her promises, he had thought about telling her, but he had chosen not to. This was his mess, and he was going to have to clean it up. With any luck, there would be no need for body disposal—especially not his.
As Adderly's driver pulled into her building's garage, Casey felt nervous in a way he'd never done before. It wasn't like his life was literally in danger, but in a way it was. Unfortunately, there were going to be witnesses to whatever Riah's reaction would be, and while that didn't especially bother him, it meant what he saw might not help him negotiate the minefield he'd created by not telling his wife about Kathleen.
Adderly stopped him when they left the car, retrieved his bag from the trunk and gestured toward the elevator. Casey took his bag, hoped he wasn't going to have to find a hotel if Riah wouldn't listen to him. There were operatives on her floor when the doors opened. The one seated in an alcove opposite the elevator doors stood and nodded at V. H. "No one's arrived since you left earlier," he reported.
V. H. nodded, grinned, and asked, "Any gunshots?"
The operative's eyes shot wide, and Casey admired how the kid—because he was probably younger than Bartowski—hid his fear that he might have missed some danger. "No, Sir."
"Good." Adderly then jerked a thumb at Casey. "This is Mariah's husband, John Casey."
Casey stuck his hand out, and the kid took it nervously, said tightly, "Colonel." He wondered whether his reputation had preceded him or if he had previously been on a suspect list.
He asked for the kid's name, nodded when he said, "Nathan Evans."
As they moved down the hall toward her door, Casey spied another operative directly outside her door. This one looked about Casey's age. V. H. introduced him as Lucas Stewart. Instead of knocking on Riah's door, V. H. pulled out a key and let them into her apartment.
Casey drew a deep breath and steeled himself to face his wife.