End of Innocence
Chapter 24
Cabin, Cimarron, Colorado, same morning
When Shaw rolled out of sleep from her chair later, she dumped herself straight into the shower and then made her way back to the main living room, still groggy. Someone had straightened up the place by the looks of it – all the blankets folded and stacked on the arms of the couch or hung over the backs of the cushy chairs; tables cleared, too, and the dressings and bandages neatly rolled in a box on the hutch. He'd even stacked a load of logs like a pyramid near the woodstove.
In the kitchen, she found the coffee set to go. More than ready for a cup, she pressed the button and stood there watching it – while dark, rich brew filled the pot. On the stove, under a metal cover, bacon and eggs tempted her, still hot and fragrant in the pan. Shaw glanced from living room to kitchen again: things definitely seemed different this morning.
She noticed her notebook sitting out on the hutch. While the coffee brewed, she wandered over to take a look – today's page already had entries on it: time of day and his temperature neatly printed from early this morning. Reese must have checked it himself and written it down in the book for her. Huh.
The back door creaked open behind her. Reese tapped the snow off his boots, and stepped in with a bucket of thin, short lengths of wood – kindling for the fire. He eased out of the boots and sniffed at the aroma coming from the kitchen, waiting for a comment he knew would be coming.
"You've been busy," she said, with a smirk.
"Feelin' better today," and she could see it in the blue of his eyes. Calmer. Determined. Like he'd turned a corner since last night.
"Looks good on you," she said, scanning him up and down.
His eyes crinkled and he walked past her with the bucket, heading for the stove. When he returned, the coffee was nearly done, and Reese pulled down a couple of mugs off the shelf for them.
"Don't know if you heard us this morning. Chase called. He wants to drive us to the airport tomorrow. Said maybe I shouldn't be drivin' yet."
Her eyes narrowed. At first, when he'd said 'us' she thought he meant he'd be going back to New York, too. But, on second thought, his face hadn't shown it. He'd just be coming along to see her off.
"Makes sense," she said. "The flight's at 1:30. Looks like everything's going right so far, here," swinging the notebook in the air.
"Took my meds this morning," he mentioned, pouring coffee into the two mugs.
Seemed like he was off to a good start, she thought; he's taking this seriously and doing what he needs to do. The trick would be to sustain the effort for the next two weeks. That'd be the hard part.
"Hungry?" he asked, and Shaw smirked again.
"Always."
Reese nodded, with that wry smile of his, and started dishing up the bacon and eggs between the two plates.
Hong Kong, December 2013
Late in the afternoon, they'd gathered again on the terrace. Meetings were done for the day, and the parties could now relax with a sampling of the local food and drink.
Islands of seating were scattered around out there, each nestled in its own stand of tall, green shrubs. The effect looked inviting to the guests: each one like a little oasis of comfort and privacy where they could linger and discuss the events of the day.
The dozen men gradually sorted themselves into groups of three or four among the scattered islands. Most were sipping the strong, home-brewed yeunyeung from china teacups and nibbling appetizers from little plates: asparagus beef rolls, sushi, and fresh vegetables.
While they ate, Mr. Tan circulated among the islands, with Greer at his shoulder. Kara had tucked in discretely behind Greer, where there was more freedom to eavesdrop. She made it a point to keep her eyes roving and her expression blank, regardless of the conversation's turn, but took note of who was for, who against the unfolding plans.
One of the servers approached to offer a cup of the sweetened drink but she shook her head, careful not to show her disdain for the local brew.
"Coffee," she whispered. The server nodded and swung away, returning a moment later with an ornate old silver pot embellished with a dragon curling along its curving spout. He poured a dark coffee into a china cup for her, but when he offered thick, sweet, condensed milk to add in, she shook her head again. Black was just fine for her.
On the other hand, the aroma of beef and asparagus from one of the appetizers had caught her interest. Another server was on his way with a tray of them, and Kara decided she'd definitely try to score some of those – she was famished after the day of meetings. Her boss never seemed to bother much about meals, so tagging along with him like this often meant she missed meals, too. One of the sacrifices of the job. She caught the eye of the server as he approached.
"Kuàizi?" the young man said, offering her a pair of dark brown, smoothly tapering chopsticks. She accepted and deftly brandished the pair. If she'd had her way, Kara would've dumped two or maybe three of the plates together to feast on the rolls – not the impression she wanted to leave, sensing the men watching her. She accepted a plate with two small, tasty rolls on it and nibbled like everyone else.
Once Tan had made his way to each of the groupings, he'd stepped away with the two of them – off to a more private part of the terrace overlooking the deep green of forested hill leading up to the Peak. Quiet there with just the murmurings of conversation behind them.
Tan and Greer stood together at the edge, gazing up at the green of the Peak. They shared a long silence at first. Greer suspected Tan was contemplating the conversations he'd had with the others. Meanwhile, his face appeared blank, unlined, serene as always. By contrast, Greer's had sagged into deep creases, especially around the eyes and cheeks.
In front of them, a long run of thick glass panels wrapped around the terrace, chest-high, providing a nearly-unobstructed view of green from the seating. Bright afternoon sun warmed them as the men lounged on the terrace, while a cooling breeze barely stirred the shrubs.
Eyes focused in the distance, Tan spoke first, in hushed tones:
"Your observations?"
Greer wasn't surprised by the question. A leader was always wise to sample a trusted few. And with Greer's years in the field, his eyes and ears were as carefully tuned for deception as they were for loyalty. A slight smile gathered a few of the creases in his face, but his eyes never changed. Icy blue, like before.
"Most are with us," he replied, quietly, eyes on the Peak. He waited then. No need to press.
The next questions, if they came, would signal more about the measure of the man than any dossier could provide him. Tan had guarded himself well through the years. He'd always preferred to work from the shadows, leaving little behind to trace. And for the phase they were about to begin, Greer counted this as an asset.
"And of the three who are not?" Tan gazed at the green of the hill. Greer paused for only a moment.
"One leads; the others follow. Remove the one, and the others will fall into line."
Custom in Hong Kong allowed the men to stand close, shoulder to shoulder, yet not to focus directly at the eyes of the other. And custom required that little emotion should show on the face during discussions. Control – it suited both men.
A simple nod followed then from Tan.
They were agreed, Greer concluded. He suspected that the next time the group convened, eleven men, not twelve, would present – and enthusiasm for their plan would be on full display.
After that, the two men, with Kara again following discreetly behind, made their way to a long table set up in the shade. Platters of fish, seafood, dumplings, and carved fruits and vegetables were just arriving.
Orange carrot intricately hand-carved in the shape of dragons sailed above the table, and watermelon radish carved in the shape of blossoms bloomed next to exquisitely-arranged platters. Food is art, after all, in Hong Kong.
The three made their way along the buffet, indicating their choices from the fare. A separate table had been set aside for Tan and his party. They seated themselves, while a small swarm of uniformed servers attended their immediate needs, then withdrew well out of earshot.
Once the servers were away, and between bites of colorful, sumptuous food, the three moved on to the next bit of business. Greer eyed Kara before he spoke up about an important matter weighing on them.
"Regarding our situation in Turkey, Sir?" Greer probed.
A brief pause ensued, while Tan gazed toward the Peak, fully visible from his seat. Then:
"I see no reason to change our plans, Mr. Greer. And you?" The creases in Greer's face gathered again.
"Either way, we'll get what we want from it," he said, dragging a morsel of lobster from its shell.
Then, with Tan's face turned to the Peak, Greer confirmed for the three of them, "no change in plans, then. We strike."
Cabin, Cimarron
Shaw had pulled together her belongings and laid them out on the bed in the cabin's only bedroom. She could be packed and ready to go in under five minutes if she'd needed to, but there was no urgency today. Not like her days in the ISA, where once the mission was done, they'd felt that rush to get out and move on. Didn't wanna risk getting stopped, questioned, searched. There were a few golden moments to flee, cleanly, and no reason good enough to squander them.
She took a deeper breath. All in the past now, those days. And her little ripple of feeling to get out and move on belonged to back-then. She'd be gone by tomorrow – soon enough, she thought. And there were things to be done before.
Reese's temperatures had been steady and normal all day. He hadn't complained of any changes or increase in pain at the site of the wound. This evening she'd have him run through the steps one more time with the dressing change: it'd be a last time to see for herself how the wound looked.
If anything was already starting to flare, she'd see it when the packing came out. And Reese'd have a hard time hiding it if things were heading south.
A knock came at the door and Shaw turned to look over her shoulder. He was there, dangling some piece of her lingerie in his hand.
"Not mine," he said, smirking. "Found it in the bathroom."
"You're gonna make someone a good wife someday," she chided. "So neat and orderly."
His face fell. "Ya know – you've been getting a little tough with me lately, Shaw," and he stepped into the room toward her. Closer, closer, 'til he'd moved within inches of her. She'd turned to face him, eyes cool, dark pools as always.
"Don't tell me I hurt your feelings, Reese."
He stood there, inches away, and the blue changed in his eyes.
Reese reached around her with the lingerie in his hands and slipped it behind her neck. Before she decided to fight him, he pulled her in with it – closer – 'til their bodies were touching all the way down the front of them.
"I have them, you know," he said in his whisper-voice. He felt the tension from the stretch of cloth in his hands. Shaw hadn't moved – not closer, but not further away, either.
He kept the tension on.
When she didn't back away, he pulled a little harder, pressing her against him.
"This isn't gonna work, Reese," in a serious voice. Her eyes gave nothing away.
"Shut up, Shaw. And listen. I've been trying to say it for days – and you keep pushin' me away," he said in his whisper-voice.
"I – wouldn'ta made it – not without you. I know you don't like to hear it, but I'm sayin' it, anyway. Ya didn't have to come, Shaw. I know it." His eyes changed again, softer. And he reached for her face with a hand. "But you did. Don't know how you knew. If you didn't, I'd be gone," he said, speaking to the dark of her eyes. "And it's not the only time. That night – "
He stopped himself.
There it was again, she thought. That look in his eyes. For a moment, she'd seen that look Finch had called anguish. Gone now. Changed to something else.
"Look, Reese, listen to me now. Neither one of us has a good track record with our – people – do we?"
His eyes fell away toward the floor.
"Let's just let it go, then. No promises, no lies, right?" And Shaw stared at him with her cool dark gaze.
It took a minute.
When he looked up, he looked like he'd made up his mind. He slipped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her right up against his chest. Then he leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head. A long, tender kiss he didn't expect she'd tolerate for long.
Reese felt her pulling back from him.
"We done here?" dark eyes flashing, glancing away for a moment. He frowned and shuffled a step closer.
"You know, right? If you ever need – "
"Shut up, Reese, and gimme my stuff!" She grabbed her things out of his hand and gave him a shove toward the door.
He turned back. The look in his eyes she couldn't begin to parse.
Never any good at this. That's why she didn't like people hanging around her. They always needed things and it just never worked out. Wasn't worth it for her.
He backed away then and left her alone. Shaw watched him go, her eyes cool dark pools again.
"No promises, no lies."