Reflections or mirages
Chapter 11. Nothing changes
Author's Note: Only an enhanced scene this time, the rest are of my own making but, as always, trying to keep them canon, like missing scenes of the show.
Thanks a lot to misswritingobsessed and anonymousgem22 for their comments, and to Rex Tano, so_soe, jennylovescastle and those guest users who have sent kudos to my stories lately. Many thanks also to Isobel_Maggie_Wanda24 for the ideas they gave me for this chapter back in the day, to Gogo_25 for their suggestions, and to Skater1263 for proof-reading and their support.
=During and after FBI S04E16 "Protective Detail"=
"Well, here we are," Jubal said, putting on his blinker and slowing down.
He used a nearby parking entrance to stop the vehicle, moving it away from the traffic, even though it was close to midnight and no cars were passing at the time.
Isobel sighed. She was still frustrated Jubal insisted on taking her home. Or maybe she was just too pleased he offered.
"Thank you. I still say you didn't need to do this."
He made a very characteristic gesture with his head. "And I still say, having a sniper attacking federal officials, this makes me feel more at ease."
This same morning, four DEA and ICE agents were wounded. One of them and, later, an immigration judge lost their life under well-aimed bullets.
Now Jubal expressed it calmly, but it wasn't the case in the office. In fact, Isobel's reluctance made him raise his voice, something she put down to fatigue from the long day. Isobel argued they had no reason to think she could be a target. With haunted eyes, Jubal finally growled he was not going to let her get shot in the middle of the street. There was a thick, mournful silence. A lump in her throat prevented Isobel from replying, and she had to compromise, the memory of the attack on Rina, of Jess's death, painfully present.
Isobel's heart still sank every time she thought of them.
"Are you okay?" Jubal in a quiet voice at her long silence.
"Yes... I'm just tired," she lied.
Not she was entirely untruthful. With the sniper on the loose and a Congressman present at the shooting drawing the attention of Washington and the bureau brass, none of her team members could to afford to have dinner at home. In addition, Hawkins just took over the vacant ADIC position and did not seem happy to start out with this situation; especially when, it wasn't resolved by the end of the day.
Jubal's frustrated mouth said he wasn't buying it. It seemed he was going to insist, but Isobel didn't give him the chance; she opened the passenger door. Then she saw Jubal put on the hazard lights and open the driver's door as well.
"You're not going to walk me to the door."
Their gazes clashed again in open confrontation.
However, suddenly, his expression changed; he narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose mischievously. "Try to stop me, Castille." And he got out of the car, hurrying around it to meet her on the other side. It got a chuckle out of Isobel. She shook her head as she got out of the car.
Jubal didn't get to the door in time, of course, but he was already at her side when Isobel finished standing up. He followed her to the door of her building, looking around, watching every window on the street. Isobel had to admit she wouldn't have done so, more out of dignity than lack of prudence.
Even without actually touching her, Jubal walked much closer to her than he normally did, positioning himself so he shielded her with his body. Isobel couldn't help but feel his proximity quicken her pulse. She told herself irritably it was only because he was weigh her down. The notion, if they really made an attempt on her, they would end up hitting him, didn't help either.
While Isobel searched for her keys, Jubal kept looking over his shoulder.
"Mmm... Thank you, Jubal..." she murmured as she entered.
"Please don't mention it," he replied, shaking his head.
Jubal's eyes seemed to thank her in return. Isobel wondered if he would have brought her home under those circumstances if Rina had survived. Or would the awkwardness between the two, Isobel's bad relationship with 'his girlfriend' have outweighed Jubal's concern for her...?
It was late, but she was wondering if it would be appropriate to invite him in, for something to eat or at least some tea as a thank you. Before the silence could become awkward or she could make up her mind, Jubal began to back away.
"I'll be here tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. to pick you up," he said, returning to the car.
Isobel made a disgruntled gesture. "Jubal, it's not necessa-"
"At seven o'clock," he insisted, pointing his finger at her, and got into the car, ending the discussion.
He waited for Isobel to close the door before leaving, though.
·~·~·
"So who in the hell is shooting at me?" asked Congressman Curtis Grange once he took a seat at the table in the visiting room along with Isobel and Tiffany.
OA remained standing, obviously tense. Isobel crossed her fingers in front of her, in an unconscious gesture to keep herself under control. Grange's radical anti-immigration political line did not make him a pleasant person for either of them to deal with.
"Suspect's name is Oscar Rodriguez," Isobel reported calmly. "His parents were deported by ICE and then killed six weeks later in El Salvador."
Grange took this with some indignation. He discarded the file OA handed him. "And he blames me for this somehow? Not his parents who came here illegally in the first place?"
Isobel wasn't surprised by the question coming from someone who included phrases referring to immigrants as "until America takes out the trash" in his campaign ads. But the implication these two innocent people died because of their own mistakes was simply offensive. She had to take a breath to push away her own irritation. It didn't quite work out for her. Isobel dealt with people like Grange all her life, but the issue still bothered her. She ended up sounding somewhat insolent when she replied.
"Well, maybe you can ask him once we find him, but for now, we need to concentrate."
"You don't know where Oscar Rodriguez is," the Congressman said with a certain sarcasm, catching it on the fly.
Granted, the guy might be a xenophobe, but he was no fool.
"No, which is why we'd like to provide protective detail to you while we continue our hunt," Isobel offered, diplomatically, because she didn't really have the authority to force him to accept it.
"And so you want Zidan here to be my bodyguard?"
Isobel did her best to disregard Grange's dismissive tone -which he could have easily avoided if he'd have wanted to- when he asked the question.
"Agent Zidan will run point, yes."
"That's fine," the Congressman agreed. Isobel was actually surprised he didn't argue more about OA; she was convinced this was going to be a problem. "But I'm not gonna hide like some beta backbencher who's afraid of a fight."
"What does that mean?" Tiffany asked, voicing the bewilderment of the three present agents.
"I have to give a speech to a VIP meet and greet this afternoon in Tribeca at the Holland Terrace rooftop, full of big money donors, and I'm not missing it," Grange flatly.
Isobel sighed quietly. Of course, the fanatic wasn't going to make it easy for them, even though he just was in the middle of a shootout where his son was in danger and a bullet grazed his own arm.
"You don't get to make the rules here, Congressman," OA argued, more harshly than Isobel would have liked. "We're trying to keep you safe."
"Which I appreciate, but with all due respect, I'm a member of the U.S. House of Representatives."
There it was. Isobel was dreading he would use this.
"Who's willing to risk another public shooting to hold a fundraiser?" This time OA practically cut Grange off. Isobel turned around, trying to slyly control her agent with her stare. OA lowered his tone a notch. "Sir, it's reckless."
The Congressman stood his ground. "That may be true, but I have an election in six months against a liberal coexist billionaire, so I'm gonna go out and raise some money with or without the FBI's help."
"We'll get an advance team down to Tribeca as quickly as possible," Isobel hastened to interject before OA could give any more abrupt responses. "Just give us a minute to work out the logistics."
Grange was satisfied; he got up and left the room.
"Playing Russian roulette with a dangerous revenge shooter," said OA, openly displeased with the Congressman. "We can't let this fundraiser happen."
"Obviously, the first call I make will be to D.C. to see if we can stop it," Isobel tried to reassure him.
"Well, the FBI stepping on First Amendment rights never goes down well in the press," Tiff observed, showing her sharpness.
Isobel had to agree. "No, it doesn't. Hopefully, we can get a bead on Oscar, but until then," she turned her gaze to OA with intensity, "I need you to keep that Congressman safe even if he thinks our two families don't belong here."
Her agent nodded in frustration, but fully understanding what Isobel meant.
"Oh, OA," the SAC called out to him as he and Tiffany were on their way out the door. Tiff left while OA stayed. "Are you up to the job?"
"Ma'am?"
The corner of Isobel's mouth quirked slightly as she recognized the familiar military device for asking, 'What are you talking about?' She reached out, closing the file Grange left open on the table. "I noticed you were a little... quarrelsome with the Congressman," she said as she picked the folder up, not looking at him.
OA sighed. "The honorable Curtis Grange has not exactly been subtle in the way he has treated me, no.
"Yeah, I've seen he didn't exactly hold his tongue..." Isobel stepped closer and lowered her voice. "But I'm going to have to ask you to try to get a grip and tone it down. The last thing we want is to give Grange an excuse to file a complaint by making your ancestry the center of the issue."
At first, he seemed simply fed up.
"You know how it is, OA," Isobel added softly, with a slight shrug.
OA caught Isobel's conciliatory, complicit tone and nodded. They both knew very well what it sometimes meant to be of immigrant origin. "Yes, you're right. I'll do my best."
Isobel gave him a brief smile of encouragement before they left the room.
·~·~·
Jubal took care of guiding the Congressman to the visiting room when he arrived, so he kept an eye out for Grange to emerge, and met him with a friendly gesture to escort him back to the elevator.
As they waited, Isobel went around the corner.
"God, having to be under the command of someone like her. I feel for you, man."
"Someone like her?" she heard Jubal ask, sounding baffled.
"You know, female and Mexican. It's clear SAC Castille is in her position to meet the diversity quota."
Clenching her fist around the file in her hand, Isobel controlled her irritation with an iron grip and stopped in her tracks. She decided it was better to wait for Grange to leave rather than set foot in this part of the hallway and cause an awkward situation. She could see them both reflected in the glass window in front of her. The Congressman was giving Jubal a smug, complicit gesture.
"I suspect she probably got the job when you were better qualified, Agent Valentine," Grange added as he stepped onto the elevator, no doubt trying to win a supporter for his political cause.
Jubal's expression became very serious, he threw his shoulders back. The tension in his body became manifest under his shirt. So much, Isobel gravely feared he was going to do something stupid.
She was about to step forward to intervene when suddenly Jubal relaxed and his lips formed a feline smile. With an skipped beat of her heart, Isobel's fear shifted suddenly.
"In fact, Your Honor, as one who works with Isobel Castille every day," Jubal said with an odd softness, "I can assure you I personally..." Isobel's breath caught in her throat, "…would not serve as happily under almost anyone's command." Jubal did not leave it there. "Objectively, SAC Castille's intelligence and capabilities are extraordinary. She hasn't gotten to where she is to meet any quotas. If she's in her position, it's because there was no one better," he stated flatly, staring at the other man from beneath his eyebrows and punctuating his words with a sharp nod of his head.
Grange did not reply. He made a slightly dismissive gesture and let the doors close.
Isobel didn't pay much attention to him. Exhaling quietly, relieved, she was too busy with the pleasant wave of satisfaction washing over her. She didn't know what she feared Jubal would say. Dana told her long ago he indeed applied for the SAC position both when it was given to herself and when it went to Isobel. Nevertheless, there was no trace of bitterness, no hint of rancor, in his retort to Grange. Only unconditional loyalty.
Some things would never change. Isobel would feel surely discriminated against, and always for reasons beyond her control, reasons she actually could not change; reason like being a woman or from a different background... Anyhow, even in spite of everything that has happened in the last few months, Jubal's loyalty also seemed unwavering.
Surely, Isobel shouldn't feel so good about hearing her ASAC say all this to shut up a Congressman, no less. But the fact was she was.
·~·~·
Jubal entered Isobel's office just as she hung up the phone. Her frustrated expression didn't bode well.
"The team is already in Tribeca, deploying," he reported. Jubal managed to organize the operation in record time.
"I've even talked to the Director, but to no avail. Washington won't stop the event," Isobel said irritated, as he closed the door.
As Tiffany said, no one in DC was going to risk messing with the First Amendment.
Jubal nodded. "We're still on Rodriguez's trail, then."
"Yeah. I need you to find him quickly, before the event, Jubal." The intensity of her tone, of the trust placed in him, reverberated strongly within Jubal.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied with resolution.
He turned to leave and try everything humanly possible to make it happen, but then he stopped. A 'no' wasn't the only thing Isobel received in her calls to Washington. You could see the pressure applied to her in the slump of her shoulders. However, the tinge of her gloom said there was even more to it…
"Is everything all right?"
"Yes. Yes, of course," she answered automatically.
Jubal sent a quick text to his JOC analysts giving them instructions, before turning his full attention back to Isobel. "Are you sure?"
She raised her gaze, which until a moment ago was still lost. "Aaam..." And didn't answer, licking her lips lightly, as she did when she was tense.
"The Congressman..." Jubal approached her desk until he was standing in front of her, "did he get under your skin with something he said?" he asked softly.
Isobel sighed. Her gaze turned to so many past occasions and became bitter, sad. "It's not nice to be reminded you're not welcome," she admitted.
"Not all of us think this way," he hastened to reply.
"I know," Isobel said with firm certainty. She also surprised Jubal with a warmer-than-usual look, quickening his pulse. She shook her head. "It shouldn't affect me. I should be used to it by now."
"It is quite understandable if you do. Feeling displaced is a very unpleasant and very primal feeling." He paused for a moment as he decided to tell her about this. "When I was twelve years old, my father was posted to the American embassy in Moscow and we moved there. There were hardly any American children around, and none my age. Also, my parents wanted me to learn the language and sent me to a local school. Not all my Russian classmates were cruel, but those who were..." he said this with a slight grimace, remembering the humiliations and mockery, the veiled insults and petty -and not so petty- aggressions.
Isobel knew what Jubal was trying to say. Those who were cruel left deep marks.
"Yes, actually, one can feel rejected anywhere," Isobel mused. "Still..." She swallowed hard, "it's just very hard to be made to feel like a stranger in your own country."
·~·~·
At the end of the day, after Tiff went home, OA looked up and saw the light on in Isobel's office. Shuffling his feet slightly, he walked over to the door and peered in, shock at what happened still weighing on his heart.
Isobel was typing furiously, cheeks flushed and expression indignant. OA knew she was angry. He heard her arguing with Hawkins on the phone earlier, even though the office door was closed.
"May I come in?" asked OA.
His SAC blinked and looked at him in surprise; her fingers continued typing for a few seconds although her eyes were no longer looking at the screen, but at him, over her glasses. "Sure, go ahead."
Isobel saved the changes of the extensive report the ADIC demanded from her about what happened to Curtis Grange. She got into a heated argument with him because Hawkins asked her to point out who 'in this whole fucking mess' was responsible for the Congressman's death, and she curtly replied no one could be blamed but Grange himself.
"I'm going to stop by and see Ethan," OA said, holding up the envelope containing the printed copy of an application form for the Congressman's son. "Before I leave, I just wanted to say… I am very sorry I wasn't up to the task today."
He was not the only one. The entire team felt terrible because a bullet killed a member of US Congress while they were on duty.
With a sigh, Isobel took off her glasses. An extremely somber Jubal told her something similar. At the JOC, the general desolate feeling was they failed to locate Rodriguez in time, before he could fire that single, fatal shot. The terrible guilt in Jubal's eyes was still crushing heavily on Isobel's chest.
"Of course you were up to the task, OA. We've all done our jobs today to the best of our ability, even in spite of Congressman Grange's recklessness."
OA shook his head, disheartened. "I didn't agree with him, but he wasn't such a bad guy, you know? He lost his wife in a terrible situation. He was just trying to stop things like this from happening again..."
"Not in the best way."
The two exchanged a brief knowing glance.
"Yeah..." OA sighed, "I just talked to Tiff about it. It's ironic."
"What do you mean?"
"The Congressman and Oscar Rodriguez... both blamed our immigration system for the deaths of their wife and parents respectively, but for completely opposite reasons."
Isobel frowned slightly. "Are you saying... it's impossible for the system to work?"
"No, it's not that," OA shook his head. "I just... I cannot help but wonder why none of them went after those actually responsible for those deaths. The criminal who killed Grange's wife, the guerrillas who shot Oscar's parents. I mean, instead of targeting innocent victims? Instead of going after immigrants who are just hard-working, decent people, instead of shooting those who were just doing their jobs and didn't kill anyone?"
Isobel narrowed her eyes in thought. "I think they needed to do something but, unfortunately, what you say was beyond their control. Perhaps..." She took a breath and let it out as a slow exhale. "Perhaps this is why our work is so important, OA." She looked him in the face. "Because we, as far as our jurisdiction allows, focus on saving lives. And on bringing the true culprits to justice."
OA nodded, understanding this, internalizing it. "And no one else."
Their eyes connected.
"Exactly."
·~·~·
"Shall we go?" said Jubal, appearing out of nowhere to walk alongside her down the hallway to the elevator.
He carried his messenger bag in his hand as he put on his jacket.
It became late for Isobel while finishing the report for Hawkins. She didn't expect Jubal to still be around at this hour. She gave him a look somewhere between amused and suspicious. Was he waiting for her?
She felt grumpy and beaten as if she were shaken like a rug. Still, she was surprised a part of her in fact was grateful for the company. He also looked tired, defeated. It was a very hard day for everyone. Yet Isobel found the silence enveloping them strangely comforting. They didn't need to say anything, because they knew what the other was going through.
"There is no longer any threat, Jubal," she said, guessing his intentions as she stepped into the elevator. "There is no need for you to take me home today as well."
He followed her inside with his hands in his pockets, nodding. "I know, I know."
She raised an eyebrow, waiting for something else. For an answer, Jubal just gave her a half-smile, glancing sideways, and shrugged a shoulder. Barely suppressing the laughter rising in her throat, Isobel relented. She allowed him to take her home again.
It wouldn't be the last time.
~.~.~.~