Pittsburgh, PA – August 2005
A CIA trainee could use this meeting as an instructional video. Any person observing this would absolutely believe that Jessica Richardson and Conrad Dalton have never met one another. Of course, this performance is only for an audience of one. Henry McCord. Sure, Lydia is here with him, and so is Harrison. Conrad is happy to have Harrison. It gave him a reason to stop by the new McCord home. We were in town for the Penguins game. Harrison wanted to see Stevie.
It was so easy. Conrad observes Henry. He assesses the state of the house. He looks for the pictures of Elizabeth. He looks for signs that Jessica is settling in. He watches the dynamics between the couple. There are subtle touches and smiles. He is satisfied that he actually made a match that seems to be working so well.
"It seems you two are getting along very well." Conrad gestures between the pair.
"It's a pretty good fit," Henry says, honestly grabbing Jessica's hand. Her left ring finger sparkles with a simple but beautiful diamond ring. The engagement is still new, and the ring is not very big. However, Jessica's smile is bright and radiant. She is truly happy.
"I would say so," Jessica says, giving Henry a small peck on the lips.
"When is the big day?" Lydia asks.
"We are still talking about that," Henry answers. "Jess has been looking into a few places, but nothing has stuck yet."
"Well, I am happy for the both of you," Conrad says. His plan is working. Henry has no idea. It is so beautifully played. Conrad has no reason to worry. As long as he can keep Elizabeth disappeared, everything will be fine. And keeping Elizabeth gone shouldn't take too much effort. It'll be easy to talk a traumatized woman into anything.
Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, Germany – July 2005
Elizabeth hasn't said a single word in two days. Not since she found out that Henry isn't coming. George had broken the news to her as softly as possible. She took the fact that people had thought she died okay. She took that in stride. But when he told her about Henry, she demanded his phone. She had called Conrad. George had not heard the other side of the conversation. Just Elizabeth's sadly mumbled yes, sirs. But the doctors are starting to throw words like catatonia and psychotic break around.
George knows better. Elizabeth's silence is intentional. It is a strike. She had fought so hard to get home. And now, it's looking like that might not happen. At least not right now. George isn't giving up. He has a plan, and if all goes well, he'll have her home with Henry within the next couple of months.
She's staring out the window, her arms wrapped around her middle. She looks so small. That is never a word he would've previously used to describe Elizabeth. Small. She was always so vibrant and energetic. She had a presence about her that was almost bigger than life. But now, she seems...small.
"Kiddo," he starts and then hesitates, "I know you're upset. I know that you don't want to talk... but you need to say something... if you want to be released to fly back to the States, you need to talk."
She turns to him. He expects anger. Instead, she looks tired. It's a kind of tiredness he's not sure one would be able to sleep off. It's the kind of exhaustion that comes from being away from the people you love for so long.
"I don't have anything to say." Her voice is raspy from it's lack of use.
"You have plenty to say. You're just not saying it. Elizabeth, I need you to talk to me." George hopes he doesn't sound desperate.
She shakes her head.
"Elizabeth."
"No. I'm not talking about this."
He sighs. The last thing he wants to do is argue with her. Or push her. But he also knows that there are things she needs to discuss. "What did Conrad say?"
Her expression closes off once again. Every time he thinks he's getting somewhere, she goes away. She has gotten so good at retreating into herself. She spent so much time in that room. So much time that retreating into her mind has become a honed skill of hers.
"Don't do this," George begs. "Please don't shut down on me."
She looks down at the ground, and her hands clench into fists. She's angry. Angry at him? The man? No, Henry. She's pissed at Henry. But also, maybe she understands. Maybe all of the times the man told her he was ruining her, he wasn't lying. Maybe it was just a simple truth. Maybe the man did ruin her.
"Bess?"
She stays silent for a long moment. Contemplation is written on her face.
"Do you think I'm broken?" Her voice is small. There is the look of a scared child written on her face. George feels a paternal need to protect her, to keep her from ever feeling pain again. He reaches over and puts a hand on her good shoulder.
"No, of course not. I think you've been through something awful. But you survived."
"Not without damage, though." Her thought is not wrong, though it is not completely contextualized. George knows that her mental health has taken a hit. She is struggling. But the physical wounds are healing, and that is a good thing.
"Everyone has damage. That doesn't mean we're broken." George reassures her. He tries to get her to look him in the eyes, but she refuses.
"You have no idea how much damage he inflicted." She spits. She doesn't know why she's snapping. Her moods have been all over the place lately. He sighs. He knows that. She hasn't told him much. She let him read her medical reports, but a list of injuries takes the human aspect out of them. He has no idea how those injuries were obtained.
"Then tell me," George pleads. He wants her to open up, even just a little bit.
"Why?"
"Because you need to tell someone. And I want to listen. I know some things," he says, trying to find a middle ground. He wants her to know that he won't see her any differently.
She scoffs. "I'm pretty sure you don't know anything." She laughs. The sound is harsh and jagged. She has a bitter look of resentment on her face. She isn't angry at him. It's not his fault. At least George is here. He's here, and he loves her.
"You're right. I don't know everything that happened. But I have seen your medical reports. I know enough to know that you are in a tremendous amount of pain. You don't have to carry it all by yourself. Whatever it is you tell me, I won't judge you. I promise." He prompts. He's not going to give up. She is not going to push him away. Not this time.
She sighs and turns her attention back to the window, "You can't say that."
"Why not?"
She looks over at him, and for a split second, he sees fear. Real, visceral terror. Of what he isn't sure. He doesn't know if it's of her captor or herself. Maybe it's both. "Because you won't be able to look at me the same."
"Kiddo, there is nothing you can tell me that will make me see you as anything other than my strong, beautiful, resilient friend." George does his best to maintain eye contact. Elizabeth has shown not to like eye contact since she's come back from the dead, but he needs her to know he's sincere.
"I..." She hesitates. Her breath is shaking, "Strong?"
"Yes." George gives her an absolute. She is strong. Anyone who steps up to parent their kid brother at fifteen is strong. Anyone who is able to give birth to three kids is strong. Anyone who survives over a year in captivity is strong. Bess has a reputation for kicking and screaming her way through life, and she has earned every bit of it.
"I'm not strong," She says, and the look on her face is haunted, "You know what he did to me," she whispers as if she is confessing to a murder as if any of this is her fault.
"Yeah. I know what happened, kiddo." He nods, trying to keep his face neutral. He doesn't want her to see pity. He doesn't want her to see the look he had when he read the report on her rape kit. He definitely doesn't want her to know that it made him nauseous to read. It doesn't want her to clam up again.
"And you think I'm not broken after that?"" Elizabeth looks exhausted. It's as if her body can't hold up the weight of her emotions anymore.
"No." George answers, and she raises an eyebrow, "You aren't broken. You are resilient, and you're going to heal."
She scoffs and goes silent again. She doesn't believe him. She has no idea what healing would even look like. Not without Henry, not without her children. How could she even start?
"Bess." George prompts her. She doesn't seem to be done talking. He is discovering that she needs the prompts.
"I just want to go home. And I can't... Conrad..." She lets out a sob for the first time since she's been free. It's the first time she's freely shared her emotions in over a year. She feels weak for letting her emotions out. It's as if the dam has finally broken.
"I know." George wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she leans into his chest. George is worried. He knows something big is happening around this entire situation. He doesn't know what it is or why. He's been too focused on being Elizabeth's friend. He needs to take care of her. He's the only one here to do it. And he doesn't mind. He loves Elizabeth's friendship. It's one of the few stable relationships in his life. "Bess, what did Conrad say to you?" He asks gently.
"Did you know Henry is getting married?" She asks, her voice flat. It's as if she magically turned off her ability to feel emotions again.
"No."
"Conrad says he's engaged to someone named Jessica."
"Oh," George says, his heart sinking. He had not known that. He and Henry had lost touch when Henry moved to Pittsburgh.
"My kids don't even know I'm alive... Conrad said... Henry doesn't want to tell them... he's getting married in a month, and he doesn't want to tell them I'm alive." She completely disassociates once again. She can't feel this pain. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
George sighs, "That doesn't sound like Henry," he says, not believing it. George is shocked. That's not the kind of decision he would have ever expected Henry to make.
"I thought so too at first... but the truth? We weren't doing that great before I deployed. I was working a lot, and most of the time, he was basically a single dad. Especially during the week, I mean, I was home on the weekends, but I was so tired. Since 9/11... I really put my marriage on the back burner because I thought... I thought he'd always be there. But then I deployed, and I was captured, and I didn't make it home when I was supposed to. So Henry moved on. And that's fine. That's his prerogative." She has nothing else to say about it. She can't say that she wishes she would've died, even though it's true. But saying that would cause a whole new set of problems. So, she presses the button on her pain pump for more drugs.
George doesn't know what to say. He has nothing to add at the moment. He doesn't know what Conrad said, but he does know that Conrad has acted incredibly indifferent about this situation since it transpired. Something is very wrong, and he doesn't put it past Conrad to lie to Bess. And Bess is traumatized. He doesn't put it past her to believe whatever she's told in her current state. He decides to try and find the truth. He needs to be careful. The last thing he wants to do is cause a rift between himself and his oldest friend. He wants to find out what's going on and help both Elizabeth and Henry. He wants to call Henry himself, but he thinks that's a bad idea for a first move. Henry has their children. The kids' safety needs to be considered. George needs to tread carefully so none of them have disappeared for good.
"I need to step out for a moment," George says to her, standing and walking to the door. Elizabeth doesn't reply. She's already allowing the meds to pull her under. George doesn't blame her. Sleep is the best way to avoid her demons. But he makes a note to keep an eye on it. He doesn't want her to fall down a rabbit hole she might not make it back from. He knows better than anyone. He spent twenty years crawling into a bottle to avoid his problems.
He steps outside her door and dials Conrad's number. He's in the States, and he doesn't think twice about calling the man. He knows it's early, but he doesn't care.
"Did you get any more information about her captor out of her?" Conrad skips the greeting.
"No," George snaps, his voice harsh. He doesn't want to play games. "She needs Henry, Conrad. She needs him. She needs her kids. This is the worst possible thing for her."
"He won't be coming, George. Drop the subject. I sent you for her. Take care of it." Conrad's tone is icy.
"Why won't he be coming? This isn't like him, Conrad."
"It's not our concern. You're a fixer, George. Fix this." George has to catch himself before he throws his phone. He's never hated a person as much as he hates Conrad at this moment.
"Fuck you." George hangs up. He stands there, his hands shaking with rage. Conrad has to be lying. He has to be. He has no idea what his next move is. But he does know two things.
One: Elizabeth is still in danger, and by extension, so is her family.
Two: Conrad Dalton is guilty of something. Something big.
And George needs to figure out what it is before Elizabeth dies because of it. He also needs to tread carefully. If he moves too quickly and isn't careful, Elizabeth Henry and their children will pay the price.
He knows what he has to do. He has to make sure Elizabeth and her family are safe. He makes another call. This one is to a voicemail box.
"It's Kanas Sepia. That file you said you have. I want it. Now."
George takes a deep breath after slamming his phone shut. He's playing with fire, and he can't get burned. But more than that, Elizabeth can't get burned. She's been through enough.
She's still asleep when he goes back into her room. He sits down in his chair and watches her sleep. She has a long road ahead of her, and it's a road she needs to walk. But she can't do it alone. She's not a lone wolf, even though she likes to act like she is.
He sees a tattered picture she's holding against her chest. Her kids. He feels sick to his stomach.
He has no idea what's going on. But he does know that he has to make sure that she gets back to them.
