Chapter 8
"I will say this for him, he died well. Such heroism is sadly lacking these days. I nearly felt remorse for what I had to do."
Chapter 8: Rhett Butler He's Not.
Caitlin's laughter caught in her throat at the sound of that voice. That voice had haunted her dreams for the past two months, and terrorized her at the oddest times during her days. It was the sound of her failure, the constant reminder that good does not always conquer evil, and that her very best just wasn't enough to protect someone she cared for.
"My darling, surely you remember me. It wasn't so long ago that we left each other. I'm sure you'll be glad to know that I've thought of you every day."
She tried to speak, but her words got caught on the lump that was forming in her throat. "What...what do you want?" Eric glanced up in concern at the sound of Caitlin's voice, striding across the kitchen to catch her around the waist as she crumpled against the wall.
"What is it, Caitlin?" He asked, his warm brown eyes scanning her pale features and anxious expression.
Valdez cackled softly over the telephone line. "I'm sorry my dear, I didn't realize you had company. Agent...hmm, I have the name somewhere...ah yes. Eric Weiss, I presume?" When she didn't answer, he went on. "I apologize for interrupting you while you're eating dinner, but I just wanted to say that I understand why you've been avoiding me lately. Your loyalty to Agent Brandt is touching. I will say this for him, he died well. Such heroism is sadly lacking these days. I nearly felt remorse for what I had to do." He chuckled. "Nearly."
Caitlin whipped her head frantically toward the big bay window. Was he watching her? How did he know Eric? Suddenly she straightened, her spine turning into steel. Damned if she would let him intimidate her. She was a Sinclair, and Sinclairs fought fire with fire. She slapped at Eric's shoulder, mouthing "tape recorder" and motioning to the drawer next to the sink. Though he still looked confused, he scrambled up and grabbed the tape recorder.
She searched for something to say, buying time as Eric made sure the recorder was in working condition. "Uh, yes. David Brandt was a very good friend of mine, not to mention a wonderful agent. I've never known a finer patriot." She accepted the recorder and held it up to the receiver, putting her ear close so she could still hear every word he...that sleazy, manipulative, evil son of a bitch...had to say.
"Yes, of course. That is the theme of every CIA funeral, is it not? 'So sorry that your husband is dead, but you can have comfort in the fact that he was a fine patriot.' Darling, what did patriotism ever bring except unnecessary tragedy? I can offer you so much more." Valdez’s voice turned sickeningly seductive. "Caitlin...you deserve to have power. I can give you that. You are an incredibly strong woman, a great spy. I can use someone with your talent. Under my tutelage, you will be invincible, more powerful than in your wildest dreams."
Caitlin had to restrain the urge to bash the receiver against the wall. She knew that this might be her chance. If she pretended to be interested in Valdez’s proposal, then she could infiltrate his operation. Valdez seemed to be unknowingly handing the CIA a ready-made plan for his own destruction. Keeping her voice steady, she purred, "Really? How...fascinating." Eric snapped his head toward her, mouthing "What the hell are you doing?"
"I was so hoping you would feel that way. Might we...meet in person to discuss this further?"
She considered this. Any idiot could figure out that this wouldn't be some casual dinner date. If she agreed to this meet, there would be two possible outcomes. She would either walk out with Valdez, or she would be lying in an alley with a bullet in her head. Eric was slashing his hand across his throat, mouthing "no, no."
"I'd like to think that you were interested for your own reasons, and really, dear, I hate to play this card. But, if you need some more persuading, maybe I should pay your mother a visit."
"No, please don't bring her into this."
"Gabrielle Sinclair, 54, widowed, two grown children." He proceeded to rattle off her address and phone number. "I must say, she's quite lovely. Like you. As is your sister, Haley. Should I pay her a visit as well? Or maybe, since I'm already headed to the L.A. area, I'll just have a chat with your Agent Weiss."
Eric's eyes went dark, and he grabbed at the phone to tell Valdez exactly where he could shove his scare tactics, but Caitlin scrambled up and kept the phone out of his reach. "Fine. When should we meet?"
"I understand that hockey is a big event for Los Angeles. Meet me at seven o’clock, Monday next, at the Kings' hockey game. Does that work for you, my sweet?"
"Of course, Senor Valdez. I..." she gritted her teeth. "Look forward to it."
"As do I, mi amor. Now I don't need to insult your intelligence by warning you to come alone and unarmed, so for now I bid you goodbye." The line went dead.
Eric slammed his fist against the refrigerator. "What the HELL is in your head? You can't be planning what I think you’re planning. You’re not stupid. No way...”
Caitlin cut him off. "You're right, I'm not stupid. Weiss, calm down." She wrapped her hands around his biceps and forced him to look her in the eyes. "Engage brain, Eric. Think about this. What is our objective? To take down Valdez. How do we do that? By infiltrating his operation and disabling his commerce trade. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that Valdez just gave us a big neon sign flashing 'Infiltration point here!' I want to take advantage of that. So who's the stupid one here?"
Eric leaned his head against the wall, exhaling strongly as the full import of the situation hit him. "A little slow on the uptake, aren't we?" She smiled sweetly.
"Only when it comes to you, devil woman. I lose all objectivity whenever you’re concerned, why do you suppose that is?"
She thought back to when Valdez had threatened Eric. "Well, I don't know. But I'm not exactly indifferent when it comes to you, so whatever you have is catching." She stroked her hand against his cheek, watching his eyes dance at the unexpected display of tenderness. "But from one wildly un-objective agent to another, let's consider the bright side of this situation. If all goes well, I won’t have to sleep with Valdez." She grinned widely. "Think about it. He may be a sleaze, but from what he just said it seems that he"s interested in me for my kick-ass espionage skills. Even if he does want to get me in bed," she shuddered at that thought, "it's not his first reason for bringing me into SD-3. It's completely possible that I'll be able to sidestep that particular part of our program."
"Why this eternal optimism all of a sudden? Forgive me for thinking you, uh, wouldn't have handled that as well as you did."
"My mother always told me, 'nobody sucker-punches a Sinclair and gets away with it.' It’s not in me to retreat at the first sign of danger. Besides..." She weighed the consequences of saying what she wanted to say. "You gave me strength just by being here. Just by doing what you do."
His expression turned somber. "I wish I could do more to keep you safe. Let’s replay that tape, see if we can gather any clues. Then we can make a plan. He said to meet at the hockey game, right? We can place some agents around the stadium posing as fans. I know he’ll recognize me, so that won’t work, but he doesn't know Vaughn. I need to call Mike...oh wait, it's kind of late over there...well, he won't mind if I wake him up."
She grabbed his cell phone from his pocket before he could antagonize his best friend. "OK, that’s suggestion number one for 'how Caitlin and Eric will spend their evening.' But instead of planning our lives around Valdez's sucky timing, why don't we postpone this until tomorrow? We'll play the tape for Ethan. Three heads are better than two, agreed?"
He nodded. "Of course, but we can't afford to lose any time."
Caitlin set the phone and tape recorder on the kitchen counter. "Sorry, you lose. I've got my heart set on a night of movie watching and relaxation, not work. You, me, popcorn, big comfy couch. But first..." she grabbed Eric’s shoulders and pressed his back against the wall. "I believe I owe you something." With that she molded her lips to his, kissing him with all the passion she had been holding in until that moment.
I guess I don't have to worry about jumping the woman, he thought hazily.
She broke the kiss and leaned her head back. "So, we're even?"
"Not quite." He wrapped his arms around her small waist, leaning forward to touch his lips ever so lightly to hers. As he deepened the kiss, he slipped his hand underneath her tank top, lazily caressing the soft, warm skin of her back. When he felt her tremble at the sensation, he pulled away. Eyebrow raised, he said pointedly, "Now we're even." Then he walked through the archway to the living room, calling to her, "Hey, what should we watch?"
She shook her head disparagingly at Bogart, who had just crept into the kitchen and was looking at her with yellow, questioning eyes. "You men. Always have to have the last word, don't you?"
~*~*~
"It appears you are not the better man," Jason Isaacs sneered on screen.
"You're right. My sons were better men."
Weiss tightened his arm around Caitlin’s shoulders as "The Patriot" came to an end. Quite the fitting movie choice, he thought with a hint of irony. Just earlier Caitlin had been talking to Valdez about patriotism. She had said that David was the finest patriot she had ever known. In his opinion, she needed to be looking in the mirror when she said some of that. She was so dedicated to doing what was right, no matter the cost. While he admired that, it also made him scared as hell. Where did patriotism end and concern for her own well being begin? He wanted Valdez in jail as much as she did, but not at the expense of her life.
Eric looked down at Caitlin's sleeping form. Her head was pillowed by his chest, her feet curled up on the sofa under an old well-worn afghan. Checking his watch, he saw that it was getting late. "Caitlin." She mumbled something and burrowed deeper into his chest. "OK. Rhett Butler I'm not, but we'll give this a try." He stood up and gathered her in his arms, walking carefully around the coffee table and down the hallway. He started peeking in doorways until he found the bedroom. He crept to the bed and carefully laid her down on the comforter. As he was covering her with a throw, her eyes fluttered open.
"Eric? Did I fall asleep?"
"Yeah, somewhere between Heath Ledger's death and the Americans' victory over the British."
"Go U.S.A.," she said groggily.
He stroked her hair away from her face, watching how the moonlight played across her features. "Get some sleep, I'm gonna head home. I'll pick you up in the morning?"
She grabbed his hand as he turned to walk away. "Don't."
"Don’t what, Caitlin?"
"Don't...don't go. It's easy to steel my mind against thoughts of...everything during the waking hours, but at night..." She shivered visibly, as though she was cold. "Please, just stay with me tonight."
"Hey, consider me Eric Weiss, guard against the bogeyman and bad dreams." He sat down on the bed beside her, taking off his shoes, then resting his head back against the pillows. Caitlin reclaimed her spot on his chest.
" 'Night, Eric." Her breathing once again became deep and even.
He wrapped his arm around her and pressed a light kiss to her temple. "Sweet dreams." If only he could guarantee her those sweet thoughts. "God," he whispered, angling is gaze to the ceiling, "grant her peace tonight."
I pray we'll find your light
And hold it in our hearts
When stars go out each night
Let this be our prayer
When shadows fill our days
Lead us to a place
Guide us with your grace
Give us faith so we'll be safe
Posted by Carrie on 07:10 AM