Sorry for the delay, still travelling and sorting out life!
Guest: they are both slipping easily into this deeper and deeper, each in their own way.
It had been about 7 months since they had gotten together, although there was quite a debate on that. For the life of her, Gilian couldn't understand why Cal insisted on counting as the start the ugly fight they've had: granted, it had kicked things into motion, but there had been a good two weeks of misery between that and the moment she wanted to remember as the real start.
They joked about it mostly, but Emily didn't see the funny side of it and often pitched in stating that they'd better get on the same page before they'd hit the anniversary mark. Gillian inevitably mused over the fact that they could always celebrate twice, which then caused Cal to grumble and declare he had only enough romanticism in himself for one anniversary. Give or take the two weeks they disagreed on, they had been together since March, which meant they hadn't yet been through things such as Valentine's Day or Christmas yet. But both of their birthdays had come and gone, and given how the celebration had gone on both occasions Gillian knew for a fact that Cal was lying his ass off about his romantic endurance.
Towards the end of September, Cal went to New Jersey for a few days. Communication with Emily was daily but being in person was another thing, and Cal was ready to take any chance he got to scratch that itch. The official excuse this time was that Emily needed some warmer clothes ahead of winter, and that it would make much more sense for him to bring them to her. Father and daughter ganged up on Gillian trying to convince her to tag along, but business was booming and they couldn't afford to have both bosses out of commission for a few days. Emily had not been happy about it, while Cal had been downright outraged at the thought that they'd never be able to take a vacation together; but Gillian had stood her ground, always mindful of the importance for them to have some time alone and seriously thinking at the multiplying workload of those days.
So Cal went alone, reluctantly adhering to what was Gillian's strict rule for his visits to Emily to focus on his daughter and keep communications with her essential. It made sense: after all he was on holiday whilst she was holding the fort, having to juggle twice the amount of work and convince clients that the Lightman Group was more than capable to deliver even without the man around.
They spoke on Sunday morning, with Cal teasing Gillian about what a great place for brunch Emily had found and hinting that she was missing out big time, then he had asked what her plans were. Gillian had sounded utterly miserable and bored when she had told him that she was going to spend the day between cleaning, laundry and preparing for a big meeting the day after. She had been hoping for some encouraging words, but Cal being Cal he had instead opted to fuel his argument that she should have joined him and take a holiday she needed, not to mention deserved. Gillian had replied that she didn't have much of a choice, the meeting the day after was crucial to secure a big contract and only one of many, not to mention she had been invited last minute to give a lecture at Washington University in the evening. She didn't expect to have much time to speak with him on Monday, but it wasn't much of a bother to Cal: he wholeheartedly respected her ability to deal with that part of the job, and was always happy when she had the chance to show off her skills and knowledge outside of work too. Then, sitting at the table of the cafe Emily had dragged him to, Cal had checked that nobody was within hear shot before letting her know just how much he was looking forward to seeing her again before ending the call.
Cal landed back in Washington late Monday night, after a nightmare trip of delays and inconveniences, which made him easily understand why Emily seemed to favour the train for her commute. It was nearly 2am by the time he was able to use his phone again, and as much as he wanted to hear about Gillian's monumental day he opted for a message and went home, thinking the morning after would have been much better for the both of them.
Still, by the time he waltzed into the office he hadn't heard from her yet. His text from the night before had gone unanswered, which he put down to the fact that she'd rather tell him in person how much she missed him too, but so had the two calls he had tried to put through between breakfast and the drive there.
"Dr Lightman, welcome back!"
Anna greeted him, then tried to sweeten the pill of the stack of mail and messages coming his way by asking about Emily. Cal smirked but played along, offering a brief update as he absently went through the correspondence and immediately remembering why that was the worst part of his holidays.
"Is Dr Foster in?" He asked then, almost an afterthought.
Anna was a good assistant, she liked the job and she liked the people and she strangely seemed to thrive when things got a bit odd around there. Therefore, when she didn't respond Cal found it odd, not to mention what he made of the strange expression on her face when he looked at her again.
"Uhm, they- They're in the lab."
Cal frowned, immediately picking up on the fact that her answer didn't exactly match his question. Then he forgot all about the messages and mail, instead studying the mix of surprise, fear and guilt on the young woman's face. He didn't know what caused the odd mix, but he could tell he wasn't going to like the reason behind it.
Cal hastily stepped away from the desk and paced his way to the lab, ignoring anybody who greeted him or even looked at him along the way. Once there he paused for a second with his hand on the keypad, registering the many muffled voices coming from the other side of the door, then punched his code in and went in. The place was crowded, and that was probably why nobody heard the beep of the opening door or registered his arrival, but that wasn't even the strangest thing about the scene he stepped into. Despite being packed, only Loker and Torres were representing the group: the other people in the room didn't look like they belonged there, and neither did the extra equipment he could see. His eyes scanning the suddenly unfamiliar room, Cal started to list all the things he saw that he didn't like. The strangers, to begin with, all suspiciously looking official and neat like only government agents would; the extra big screen split in different images, aerial views of a mansion showing foreign rooms with matching data and time reference; Ben Reynolds standing in a corner, a cup of coffee in his hand, chatting away with someone Cal had never seen. That whole picture was enough to confuse and scare him, but the worst part about it all really was that it all seemed frighteningly normal to everyone around him.
Finally, Reynolds spotted him and Cal immediately felt the urge to punch that pleased expression off his face.
"Lightman, long time no see!" The agent came forward, stretching out the now free hand for a gesture Cal didn't return. "Listen, water under the bridge, ok? Let me introduce you to Agent Perkins, he's-"
The introduction was cut short by Cal the moment his eyes caught movement on one of the cameras shown on the screen. He saw something and moved past Reynolds, ignoring the man who was supposed to make his acquaintance and not so politely pushing him out of his way. In two steps he was with his nose inches from the screen, watching Gillian casually passing in front of the oddly angled camera. She was walking across what looked like a living room, only bigger and luxurious in a way that was kitsch rather than elegant, then she was out of frame for a few moments before reappearing on another camera and disappearing again.
"What the hell is going on here?"
He managed not to yell, but the low grumble of his voice was terrifying enough. When he turned around, Cal found Loker and Torres looking at him with sudden fear in their eyes, while there was mostly confusion from Reynolds and the new guy.
"I- We,"
"Oh God!" Torres gasped, unable to control herself. "She didn't tell you?"
Cal spared himself the humiliation to ask who hadn't told him what, then looked at Reynolds who was looking as bit as terrified as the employees were.
"Lightman, let me explain. I thought you knew-"
"Loker," Cal barked, his eyes steady on the agent as he spoke. "I want this live feed in my office, now. And everything you've recorded so far." Then he stepped closer to Reynolds, to anyone watching looking way more intimidating than the taller and bigger agent. "My office. Now."
He stormed out of the lab without even checking if Reynolds was following, then marched to his office and quickly connected the computer. As requested, the images he had seen in the lab came up on his wall screen, his eyes immediately scanning the different angles in desperate research of Gillian. There she was, in what looked like a kid's bedroom with a child, probably not older than 6 years old. He grew immediately even more frustrated when he realised that he couldn't hear anything, then managed to look past his anger and see that the images were only muted.
He was about to take care of that when Reynolds finally joined him, looking like he had seriously considered making a run for it instead. Cal nearly incinerated him with one look, his hands sunk in his pockets trying to do something, his eyes never leaving the agent as he nervously paced back and forth like a caged animal.
"I swear Cal, I thought you knew-"
"I think we've established I didn't," he growled, then pointed his hand at the screen. "What is that? We were done with the FBI, what in the bloody hell is that?"
"It's not FBi, it's-" Reynolds sighed, knowing there was no way to make it look anything less than horrible. "It's DEA. I was asked to tag along because of my knowledge of the group."
"DEA," Cal mumbled with a clenched jaw. "So it's what. Drug bust?" Reynolds sighed, resigned, knowing what was coming. "Where's that then, here in the USA? No, of course not." Cal pressed on, inching closer and making sure nothing in the agent's face escaped him. "Where then? Mexico? Colombia?" He caught the flinch in Reynolds' face and nodded to himself. "Colombia then. Cartel stuff, I presume?" This time Reynolds made it easy for him and just nodded. Not that the confession pleased Cal in any way, if anything it only added to his growing rage, and when he stepped closer the agent could see his nostrils flare. "Wanna tell me all about it?"
He actually didn't, not really, but he didn't have a choice; judging by the way he looked, Reynolds knew that if he wasn't going to speak, Lightman was going to get it out of him either with his science or his fists. Still, he hesitated, trying to order the information in his mind before getting them out, and taking a moment to curse Foster for lying to him.
"Out with it Reynolds," Cal insisted, his voice charged with a kind of energy the agent remembered all too well. "You already told me that she's in Colombia, in the mansion of some drug lord under surveillance." He stopped, finally taking his hands out of his pockets in a way that made the other man honestly brace for contact. "I just hope for your sake it doesn't get any worse than this."
Reynolds had a moment, thinking it probably depended on what he considered worse, then sighed and spoke.
"The house belongs to Enrique Villar, he's an up and coming representative of the Colombian cartel. About two weeks ago his family physician, Dr Alcaraz, was stopped at LaGuardia arriving on a flight from Bogota with 2kg of cocaine strapped to his ankles." Reynolds sat, signalling they were in for a long explanation, but Cal's body was overtaken by so much nervous energy that he just couldn't. "He'd been doing this delivery trips for Villar over the past months, that's how he got on the DEA's radar. They stopped him and interrogated him, and the moment he saw the chance to get out of it he offered Villar on a silver platter. The told the DEA that Villar is about to close a deal with some Americans to distribute his product, a new organisation that they never heard of. They should meet at Villar's place soon, giving us the chance to kill two birds with one stone." He paused and looked at the screen, pointing at the boy who was playing with cars on the floor, Gillian sitting next to him. "The boy is Villar's son, Rodrigo. Three months ago his mother killed herself, cut her wrists in the bathtub. The boy found her and was of course traumatised, he hasn't spoken a word since." He was no expert, but Reynolds could tell that Lightman was already starting to see the emerging pattern. "Alcaraz told us that Villar had been looking for a therapist to work with his son, that he was desperate to find someone who could go over there. The DEA figured that was a great way to get someone inside his headquarters and try to find out when the meeting with the buyer would be."
"And you thought a civilian with no experience not training being undercover was the best option for such a risky assignment?"
"No Cal, that's not what happened." Cal had to focus real hard to be able to see that he was being sincere, not that it helped. "We contacted Foster to know if she could recommend someone. I figured with her experience and background at the Pentagon she might have known someone who fit the bill." He stopped, not knowing why he was so nervous to deliver the last piece of the puzzle when it was clear that Cal had already figured out on his own. "When we told her about the situation with the boy she said she would do it."
Of course she did! Cal moaned to himself, looking at her on the screen, the way she was smiling at the silent boy worth a million words.
"And you just said yes," he grunted instead. "Without calling me? You just went with it without even considering I might want to know about it."
"She told me she spoke with you," Reynolds explained, realising only then, as the words left his lips, that wasn't much of a justification and that he should have known better. "And we didn't have much time. The meeting is supposed to happen shortly-"
"How long has she been there?"
Cal had to ask, but he already knew the answer to that. Their conversation over the phone on Sunday played through his head, all the things she had said about spending the day to prepare for a busy Monday, putting her hands forward about possibly not being reachable.
"She left on Sunday afternoon."
"What are those cameras? How did you get them there?"
He sounded calmer, although resigned was probably the correct word, and Reynolds wasn't sure he liked that better than raging Lightman. But he knew he owed the man explanations, and given the situation he wasn't going to hold back information he was obviously entitled to know.
"Foster placed them. The DEA provided her with micro cameras, no bigger than a button. She's been spreading them around the mansion, hoping to capture Villar discussing the meeting." Cal stared at him, deadly silent. "No luck so far, but she's only been there less than two days and of course she has to be careful."
Careful? The bloody nerves! Cal whined silently, then looked at images on the screen.
"How are you even getting these?"
"The DEA has a surveillance station in the woods around the mansion, as close as they can be without being detected. They are relaying the signal from there to us, and we also have satellite images."
"What if Villar tracks the signal instead?"
Reynolds shook his head no, then stood up and approached the screen too.
"It's scrambled, he would need a level of tech that drug lords don't bother with."
"Yeah, I guess they prefer investing in machine guns," Cal muttered, looking at the armed guards seemingly patrolling the compound. "What's the plan then?"
"We keep monitoring and wait for the information about the meeting to set up the last part of the operation."
Cal and Reynolds turned toward the door where Agent Perkins was standing. The man clearly had no clue what he had just walked into and stepped forward, extending his hand to Cal and coughing absently when the scientist didn't even look at it.
"That's a lot of words to say nothing," he quipped instead. "How long is this supposed to last? What's the contingency if they discover the camera or start to suspect Foster in any way. Is there an exit strategy then? 'Cause you see, I am really curious to know how you plan on removing her from an isolated mansion in the middle of bloody nowhere, guarded by what looks like a small army of thugs."
"I understand that you were not aware of this operation Dr Lightman, but I can assure you we have the situation under control."
Even Reynolds couldn't hold back his reaction, a small eye roll accompanied by a soft moan. Cal easily read the situation, clearly the agent had advised Perkins not to diminish the situation or try to sell him things he wasn't sure of, but the man in charge had missed the memo. That gesture was all Cal needed to establish that his initial disliking of Perkins was more than warranted, and to decide that he was going to let his feeling very well known.
"How do you communicate with her, if you need to?" No answer, just a tight jaw clench expressing some kind of fear. "Can she communicate with you, directly? What if the information you are looking for isn't caught on camera but she finds out about it? Any way to get it to you?" No, no way, not at least judging by the nervous gulp the man swallowed. "Is she armed?'' The scoffed chuckle he received as a response made his hands itch. "Ok then, say you get your information and plan the operation, which I assume would be storming the place with weapons? How are you going to let her know when it happens, what to do when it happens?" Now the man was annoyed, or at least that was what he was trying to convey, because all Cal focused on was the contempt all over his face. "If that's what you call having the situation under control you have no rights to be mad at me for calling you out. You sent my partner on an improvised intelligent mission against the drug cartel, asking her to spread hidden cameras around the place at the risk of being discovered and you have the nerves to stand here and tell me you have everything under control?"
"Lightman-"
Reynolds made a big mistake, two actually. He tried to calm him down and to touch him. The moment Cal felt the agent's hand on his shoulder he jerked away, then turned around and grabbed the collar of his jacket, pushing up against the wall. Reynolds remembered a similar moment in the same room, only then the roles had been reversed, and if back then he had thought he could easily overpower the scientist in that moment he realised he wasn't so sure about it anymore. He had seen Cal seemingly going off the rail once or twice, usually about Emily or Gillian, but never the sheer rage powering his actions like in that moment.
The agent readied himself, possibly for a punch which perhaps all considered would have been warranted, but certainly for a warning along the lines of 'if something happens to her'. Neither came, not because Cal didn't want to but simply because Loker showed up, taking in the scene of his boss with his hands on a federal agent as if it was no big deal at all.
"Foster just placed another camera," the young man announced then.
Cal glanced back at the screen, wondering how long exactly he had taken his eyes off of her, then let go of Reynolds and stormed out of the room. Perkins followed, not because he wanted to be in the same room with Cal again but because he had to, leaving Reynolds catching his breath and adjusting his jacket and tie. He looked over at Loker, who had stood there with a nearly blank expression, more likely thinking that whatever had brought upon that conversation was probably justifiable on Lightman's side.
"Did I miss something?" Reynolds asked then. "I get he's mad but Foster knew what she was getting herself into-"
"They've been together for a few months," Loker shared, his voice low and grave, and Reynolds closed his eyes as the news and its many implications hit him. When he reopened them, Loker had come a lot closer and was staring at him with a look only mildly less menacing than the one Cal had shown him. "If anything happens to her, you're a dead man."