The Nomination:

Sunlight is simply an amazing story, focused on the two characters of Myles and Tara. There is the peripheral J/S romance, but they are not the focus here. It is wonderful and heartwrenching at the same time...with depth that makes me come back for more. It is a beautiful love story that borders on epic, although it isnt overly long. Her use of description is particulary noteworthy, you get a true sense of time, space and place. Ihave read it more than once and found it truly remarkable with each pass. An excellent piece and an asset to the showcase!

Leland Residence
Washington, D.C.
April 23
4:00 p.m.

Sunlight streamed through the windows of his bedroom, stopping as if scripted to focus on the intertwined forms on the bed. He watched a lazy sunbeam dance across her shoulder and followed it with a gentle kiss. Leaning his cheek against her soft skin, he closed his eyes and tried hard not to think about anything. The obsession that had held him captive for months had won its deliriously blissful battle today, leaving him trembling and exhausted in the aftermath. Finally he forced himself to raise his head and look at her, terrified of what he would see. "Hi," he said and then wondered how he, of all people, could be reduced to such inane babble.

"Hi," she whispered back, and he shuddered as he saw her face twist with uncertainty. He watched his dreams slip away in her tear-filled eyes.

Feeling his own eyes moisten, he cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her sweet mouth, trying desperately to remind her of what they could have. When it ended, his face was shadowed. "Tara..."

Forever after, he would wonder what he had been about to say. In his memories, he always imagined that somehow he had presented the most persuasive argument ever formed. He had been compelling and tender, dynamic and loving, until she had been overcome by the strength of his emotions. In his dreams, it was perfection. In reality, before he could speak another word every phone and pager in his home began ringing as if the end of the world were at hand. Perhaps it was. He pulled away with a sigh, reaching for the phone. "Leland."


Hudson Residence
Washington, D.C
April 23
4:00 p.m.

Nothing existed in Sue Thomas’ world at the moment except the feel of Jack Hudson’s mouth on hers. His hands were tangled in her hair, holding her in place while he took his time kissing her with slow, gentle pressure. She ran her hands down his back, enjoying the feel of his muscular form. Jack finally ended the kiss and slid his lips across her cheek. He stopped at a tender spot just under her left ear and started nibbling. Tension gathered as their hands mapped what had, despite their best efforts, become all too familiar territory.

Finally Sue pulled away, placing a gentle hand on Jack’s chest to keep him from following. They eyed each other warily, struggling to regain control. It took Sue several long moments to slow her breathing enough that she could talk. “So...lately this ‘going slowly’ thing hasn’t been working very well.”

Jack grinned sheepishly. “No, I guess not. Still I’m proud of myself. We’ve been dating for six months, you know. Believe me, it’s been a huge test of my willpower.”

She blushed but couldn’t quite control her interest. “Really?”

He laughed. “Fishing for compliments?” He gathered her into his arms, ignoring her token protest. “Sue Thomas, you...” he paused to place a brief kiss on her mouth, “...are completely irresistible.”

She smiled. “Well, I do try.” She returned his kiss, and they didn’t talk for a long time. When Jack pulled away abruptly, Sue was confused. “What is it?”

“My phone,” he replied. “And your blackberry.” She nodded and reached for her purse as he went to answer the phone. She glanced up at the television, wondering how much of the movie they had been watching had slipped by while they had been...occupied. To her surprise, she saw that the program had been replaced by a news alert from the local station. As she read the captioning on the screen, her fingers stopped their search through her purse. She stared at the words, transfixed with horror.

“Oh my God...”

Hoover Building
Washington, D.C.
April 23
5:20 p.m.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Sue said to Jack as they walked into the Bureau’s largest conference room. The sheer impact of the number of people in the room was staggering. The level of technology in use was equally overwhelming. It seemed as if every person present was either on the phone or frantically working on a computer. “I think I’m glad that I can’t hear all of it.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty loud in here.” Jack winced, trying to absorb the amazing volume of noise contained in the room.

“Who are all these people?” she asked.

“Well, you recognize Robert Mueller, the director of the Bureau.” The older gentleman was deep in conversation with someone from the D.C. police force. Jack glanced around, pointing out other people he recognized. “That’s Chuck Rislow from Counterterrorism; he’s talking to Alex Stafford from CIRG.” Seeing her puzzled look, he spelled it for her: C-I-R-G.

She nodded, remembering what she had learned during her earliest days with the FBI. The Critical Incident Response Group provided the Bureau’s first response to crisis events. Offering operations and technical support as well as violent crime analysis, CIRG was the immediate response division for everything from hostage situations to natural disasters. She gestured towards a cluster of people near the front of the room. “Who are they?”

“Well, I know Jane Lindsey is from CASMIRC. Child abduction and serial killers,” he supplied before she could ask. “And I recognize a couple of guys from Counterintelligence. I don’t think the others are ours; I’m almost positive they’re CIA.” Jack noticed Ted Garrett motioning to him from a few feet away. “I need to talk to Garrett. Why don’t you find a seat near the front? I’ll be there in a minute.”

She nodded and made her way through the crowd. She hadn’t understood everything that Jack had just said, and she had a feeling that the whole briefing was going to be like this. She would just have to hold on to her temper and hope Jack could help explain things to her. This meeting was going to be tense and extremely fast-paced. She knew how important it was, but she still couldn’t help worrying about how hard it was going to be. She already had the beginnings of a headache from just trying to follow the chaos around her. She would just have to do her best; when the young children of the President of the United States were abducted, the intensity level was almost overwhelming

She felt someone touch her arm and turned to see Lucy standing beside her. “Can you believe this? It’s just terrible!” Like many of the others, Lucy was dressed in a casual blouse and jeans. Time was of more importance than professional appearance during the early stages of a case like this; Sue found herself fervently hoping that everything would be resolved before people had time to go home and change.

“I’m trying to find a seat near the front,” Sue said.

“Good idea; let’s find room for the whole team.” Lucy took one last look around her in amazement. “I can’t believe the noise level in here; I feel like I have to yell just to hear myself. Maybe I’ll just sign everything to you so that I can save my voice.”

Sue nodded uncertainly. “I might need you to do that anyway,” she said, glancing with unease towards the podium on the stage.

Lucy followed the direction of Sue’s gaze. “Yeah, I can see what you mean. Look, I’ll help as much as I can. What I can’t sign, I’ll write down. We’ll get through it.”

Sue smiled. “Thanks.” The two women found seats for themselves and waved their teammates over as they spotted them.

A few minutes later, Robert Mueller stepped up to the podium and spoke into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention. We’re ready to begin.”

Mueller’s face was lined with tension. “I’m sure I don’t need to express to you that time is of the essence in this situation. Given that, I’m going to yield the floor to Alex Stafford, the director of our Critical Incident Response Group. He’ll brief you on the key points of the case; you’ll find additional information in the packets on the tables. After Agent Stafford is finished speaking you’ll report to your own departments to receive individual assignments. Those of you from outside agencies will be escorted to briefing rooms set aside for your use.”

Mueller looked out at the crowd, every ounce of the gravity of the situation emanating from his somber eyes. “We cannot change the fact that it happened; it’s too late to worry about that. Now is the time to work on bringing them home.” He nodded to the dark-haired Agent Stafford before sitting.

Alex Stafford approached the podium empty-handed. The ability to process and retain massive amounts of information was one of the many assets that had propelled him through the ranks of the Bureau to his current position at the relatively young age of 45. It had been just 2 hours since the bottom had fallen out of the world, and yet he was prepared to give a full briefing from memory, using only overhead slides as a guide. He pressed a button on the podium, and the first of those slides filled the screen at the front of the room. A murmur ran through the crowd as a picture was displayed of two beautiful young children with golden hair and bright blue eyes.

Stafford addressed the crowd. “You’re looking at a current photograph of Jeffrey and Madison Winfield, children of current President Zachary Winfield. Jeffrey is seven; Madison just turned five last week. At two o’clock this afternoon the children attended a friend’s birthday party at Garden Patch, an exclusive children’s restaurant and amusement center.” A picture of the establishment filled the screen. “Members of the Secret Service were allowed access to the site several days in advance in order to provide adequate protection for the children. Today a full detail of agents accompanied the White House contingent, which consisted of the children, their governess, and members of the press corps.

“The party proceeded without incident until three-thirty, at which point the governess, Margaret Wallace, took both of her charges to the restroom to wash up.” A picture of the matronly Mrs. Wallace flashed across the screen, followed in rapid succession by an image of the door to the Garden Patch family restroom. “Following protocol, Agent Devon Billings preceded the group into the room and ascertained that it was empty. An emergency exit at the rear of the restroom was determined to be closed; in addition, four agents had been stationed all afternoon at the rear of the building as an extra security measure. Mrs. Wallace and the children followed Agent Billings into the room.”

Stafford paused a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. When he next spoke, the slide that accompanied his narrative was especially gruesome. Margaret Wallace lay in a pool of blood on a tile floor, surprise and horror twisted into the features of her face. “Two minutes later, a disturbance was reported at the rear of the building; the Secret Service vehicle stationed at that location exploded. Soon after the initial report, all contact was lost from Agent Billings, the four agents covering the back doors to the Garden Patch, and the two snipers positioned above the scene in the back alley. When agents entered the restroom, they found the scene that you see here. Mrs. Wallace was dead, the rear exit was open, and the children were gone. Agent Billings and the six other agents had all been killed.”

Another photo was displayed, this one detailing an alley containing the abandoned bodies of the agents and the blackened shell of a government-issue Suburban. “Any attempt to pursue the kidnappers was prevented by a couple of rather convenient car accidents that blocked the two routes away from the restaurant. Due to the large scale of this operation, we have reason to believe that the perpetrators were members of an organized crime unit or terrorist cell.”

Stafford’s gaze scanned the audience. “I realize that the concise nature of this brief will leave many questions unanswered; your department heads will provide extra information when you meet with them. I will only cover one additional aspect of the case at this time.” Again he seemed to organize his thoughts, taking a moment to look down at the podium before he spoke. When at last he raised his head, he seemed to have aged at least ten years. “The timing of this afternoon’s events was too perfect. Our criminals knew exactly what needed to be done to get those children out from under protection in the space of just a few minutes. At this time, we don’t believe that could have happened without inside help.”

It was not completely unexpected, and yet a wave of shock and disgust still spread around the room. “We suspect that one or more members of the Secret Service participated in the abduction of Jeffrey and Madison Winfield. For that reason, the FBI will spearhead the investigation and rescue mission, with support from members of the other agencies present here. The only input the Secret Service will provide is testimony under interrogation.” He allowed a few moments for the information to process; every law enforcement official in the room was horrified that one of their own would have willingly rejected the honorable cause they all served. Finally he spoke. “We’ll adjourn here; the rest of the information will be given to you in departmental briefings. Please remember that time and diligence are of the utmost importance.”

Hoover Building
Washington, D.C.
April 23
6:30 p.m.

Jack stood at the entrance to the Bullpen, watching his team get ready for the upcoming challenge. Sue and D were quietly reading the information packets provided at the initial briefing; Bobby had cleared a space on the white board and had begun writing notes. Lucy was doing her usual fabulous job of organizing behind the scenes, making sure that coffee and office supplies were at hand and arranging necessary documents so that they would be readily available. Tara was hard at work at her computer, of course. Jack's mood darkened an additional shade; he wasn't looking forward to what he had to tell her.

Only one person wasn't contributing to the activity. Myles stood at the window, gazing out over the rapidly descending darkness of the evening. When President Winfield had swept the election last fall, surprising his opponents with an overwhelming victory, Myles had made it a point to inform everyone that he and the new president were good friends who had attended Harvard together. In fact, he had been so obnoxious about it that they all, even the usually good-natured Sue, had lost patience with him. Now all Jack could feel was concern for the man who stood in solitude at the window. He crossed the room to stand beside him. "Myles?"

The blond agent didn't look away from whatever held his attention outside. "I went to Madison’s birthday party last week." His voice was low. "They held a celebration on the White House lawn. The weather was a bit chilly, but Maddy insisted. We had a tea party. I brought her the doll she wanted. 'I want a Betty Anne doll, and I want Uncle Myles to get it for me,' she said." Myles closed his eyes, struggling to control his anxiety.

Not so long ago, Jack would have been astonished and skeptical to see a display of sentiment from the other agent, but the past few months had provided him with a chance to really get to know Myles, to discover the content of his character. He had learned that much of the attitude Myles presented in the presence of others was a façade. Afraid of failure and uncomfortable with his own emotions, Myles hid behind sarcasm and arrogance to avoid the need for interaction with others. Jack had watched the other man change as he discovered his place on the team and found a tentative peace in his relationship with his sister. Myles had even made an effort to reach out to Jack during that terrible time when Sue had left for Ohio, after the Evans case. The understanding that had developed from that attempt could be called a cautious friendship, and now Jack wanted to return the favor.

He placed a supportive hand on Myles' shoulder. "We're going to find them, Myles...alive and healthy. I won't accept anything else." He studied the other man for a moment and then added, "President Winfield specifically asked for you. That's an important part of the reason our team will be playing such a large role in this investigation, but I won't make you take this case if you don't want to."

Myles immediately shook his head. "Of course I'll take it. Jeffrey and Madison deserve the best the Bureau has to offer." He paused to look around the room and then continued, "That would be this team."

Jack smiled at him approvingly. "Okay. Let's get started; the President wants to see you when we're done here." Jack turned around to face the group. “Listen up. I want someone on every contact we have; if there’s even a whisper of this on the street, I want to know about it. We’ll be coordinating with other departments and agencies. Some areas may overlap, but that’s okay. A different point of view never hurts. D and Bobby, you’re going to sit in with Counterterrorism during the Secret Service interviews. Luce, we’re pulling cell phone and email records for everyone protecting the children this afternoon; go through them and look for anything out of the ordinary. Start with Devon Billings and the other agents who were stationed at the rear of the building.”

Lucy nodded and moved to her desk. Jack continued, “Sue, we have a video of the back alley, but the audio’s sketchy. Take a look at it and see if you can spot anything.”

“There’s no video from inside?” Sue asked.

Jack shook his head. “Not in the restroom, management at the Garden Patch wouldn’t allow it. When you see the tape, you’ll understand what’s causing some confusion about the chain of events.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Myles, your first order of business is a visit with the President; the White House is sending a car for you within the hour.” Jack dreaded what he had to do next. “Tara, could I speak to you for a moment?”

Tara followed him into the conference room. Judging from the look on her face, she knew what was coming. “Jack, I can help Lucy with the records search. I’ve already started running some scenarios on the computer.”

“I’ll be glad to let you do that for today, but tomorrow you have to get ready for the Howard Industries case.” He raised a hand, stalling her protest. “We put a lot of time and effort into training you for this one, Tara; we can’t afford to back out now.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “We’re in the middle of the most important assignment we’ll ever have; Howard is an embezzlement case.”

Jack was sympathetic but firm. “I know that, but we don’t have a choice. You did exactly what you were supposed to do; you prepared for this and got hired by the company. We won’t get another chance like this one.”

She held his gaze for several angry seconds. It was obvious that she wanted to argue, but she was smart enough to know she wouldn’t win. Finally she sighed. “I take it Bobby won’t be my contact as planned?”

“No. You’ll be working with Patrick Maclay from Randolph’s group.”

Tara grimaced. “Young enough not to be trusted with the President’s case.” Seeing the look of frustration on Jack’s face, she waved her hand. “Sorry; it’s been a bad day. I’ll give it my best.”

“Never doubted it,” Jack replied, gently smiling at her. “For now, get back out there and do what you can with those records.”

~~~~~~~~

He was waiting in the hall when she left the conference room. Unlike many of the other agents who had shown up in Saturday casual wear to confront the crisis, he was as impeccable as ever in a three-piece suit. He had donned it as easily as a second skin, dressing in just a fraction over the time it had taken her to pull on the jeans and t-shirt she had worn over to his house. “I need to be prepared in case Zach asks to see me,” had been his comment. That explanation hadn’t helped at all, only reinforcing the differences between their worlds. He was on a nickname basis with the President, for heaven’s sake!

So now she stood in this impersonal hallway, feeling underdressed and outclassed. She was worried and defensive and at least halfway in love with the man in front of her, and she didn’t like it one bit. Her job really mattered to her; she had worked hard to get here, and she hated the idea that her personal life was going to disrupt the status quo. I was afraid of this. Eying his suit, she felt a longing for the confidence of her own professional wardrobe. I should go home and change before we get too far into the investigation. Then her mouth tightened as she remembered that it didn’t matter.

Myles was struggling with his own boundaries, but he still noticed her distress. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not on the Winfield case,” she said.

A single brow lifted in astonishment. “Why? Oh wait…the Howard Industries assignment?”

She nodded bitterly. “Apparently fraud outranks rescuing the President’s kids.” Too late, she realized what she had said. She stared in dismay at the man across from her, who had flinched and turned slightly pale at her throwaway description of the kidnapping of his friend’s children. “Oh Myles, I’m so sorry. I’m just really frustrated right now, and as usual I spoke before I turned on my excuse for a brain. I’m so, so sorry.”

He finally relaxed his jaw, but his voice was a shade cool. “It’s understandable, I suppose. I imagine Bobby is no longer your contact?”

“I’ll be working with Patrick Maclay.” Something flashed across his eyes, and she realized with both pleasure and irritation that he was worried about her.

“That infantile excuse for an agent? He just learned how to spell FBI last week.”

That drew a slight chuckle from her. She reached out to touch his arm, remembering just in time that personal contact was a bad idea. Dropping her hand to her side, she said, “He is young, but he has to learn sometime. And it’s a white-collar case; how much trouble could I possibly get into?” She shook her head as he started to speak. “Don’t answer that. Now, what about you? Don’t you have to go see the President?”

He looked like he still wanted to argue, but he answered readily enough. “The car should be here any minute.”

“Tell him he’s in my prayers,” Tara said. As are you…

Warmth crept back into his tone. “I will.” Two sets of eyes met and held. They both had so much they wanted to say but didn’t know how, and they were too afraid of barriers to try.

Whatever opportunity they might have had to change things was interrupted when Lucy poked her head around the doorway. “Myles, the car from the White House is here. Give the President our best.”

Myles acknowledged her with a nod, still holding Tara’s gaze with his own. “I’ll be back later,” he said quietly. Then he was striding away purposefully, the very picture of the aristocrat who both intrigued and intimidated her. Tara watched him leave and then returned to her desk, pointedly ignoring Lucy’s curious glance.

The White House
Washington, D.C.
April 23
8:00 p.m.

Throughout the exhaustive check-in process at the White House, Myles thought about his friendship with Zachary Winfield. They had met on the rowing team at Harvard. Myles had never understood what the junior team captain had seen in the scrawny, hostile freshman he had been. Myles Leland III had arrived at the university cloaked in an excess of money, prestige, and arrogance, but the popular Winfield had ignored all that. In the same indomitable fashion with which he pursued everything, the bold future president from Nebraska had decided that Myles needed a friend and that it was his God-given calling to fill the role.

Zachary had pestered and pushed the younger man, forcing him to reach outside the protective walls he had built for himself. Suspicious at first, Myles had resisted the inherent kindness he sensed in Zachary’s nature, but by the time the older man had graduated two years later they were good friends. They had continued to visit each other throughout the years, making an effort to accommodate the rigors of Zach’s political schedule and Myles’ job with the Bureau. Things had gotten a little shaky during some of Myles’ years with Violent Crime, but Zachary had refused to give up on him.

Seven years after graduation, Myles had been best man at Zach’s wedding to Jean Monroe of the Boston Monroes. Jean had welcomed his friendship with the same easy grace as her husband, and Myles had found himself captivated by the unconditional acceptance he found in his all too infrequent visits to their home in Vermont. What he experienced with the Winfields was so different from his usual life of competition and distrust that he had decided his two friends were aberrations, oddities of kindness and loyalty in a world that had long since forgotten such words.

It was only in the past few years at the Bureau that he had begun to think that other people might be capable of expressing those qualities. He thought of a young blond woman who had challenged a lot of his long-held beliefs. In her own way, Sue Thomas had been as tenacious as Zachary Winfield in changing Myles’ view of the world.

A voice interrupted his thoughts. “Agent Leland, the President is in the Oval Office.”

Myles followed the aide down the hall and into the most famous room in the White House. “Mr. President,” he said. The depth of the friendship made no difference; in this room Zachary Winfield was the President.

The older man stood to greet him, reaching out to shake his hand. “Myles. Thanks for coming; I know I’m keeping you from your job, but I needed to see you.”

“There are numerous agencies at work on the investigation,” Myles reminded him soothingly. “I’m just one small part of it, and I’ll play whatever role you require of me. My job is to support you and…” his voice trailed off as he saw the doll propped up on one of the chairs in the middle of the room.

Winfield followed his gaze. “Oh Lord, Myles, I’m sorry. She’d been carrying that doll around with her all week, telling everyone that her Uncle Myles brought her the best present in the whole world.” His voice broke slightly. “I wanted it to stay where she’d left it, so that if…” he stopped, unable to say more.

Myles closed his eyes for a moment, fighting down a wave of emotion. He’d never had much interest in children, but had done his best to be a good “uncle” to Jeffrey Winfield when he had come along. Madison…on the day Maddy was born she had looked at Myles with her father’s soul and declared him her own. She loved him as only a small child can, and he adored her. When he spoke again, his voice was gruff. “Leave it there; she’ll want to find it when she comes home.”

Zachary looked at him gratefully. “Thank you, Myles. Thank you for ‘when’.”

He found himself echoing Jack Hudson’s words from earlier in the evening. “It’s the only outcome I’ll accept.” He held the President’s gaze with as much security and purpose as he could muster. “How’s the first lady?”

Winfield sighed. “Jean’s pretty tough; she’s had to be to put up with my political ambition. Still, nobody handles this sort of thing well. I had the doctor give her a sedative. She’ll probably hate me for it when she wakes up, but I felt like it was the best choice at the time.”

Myles studied the tired face of the man before him and secretly thought it wouldn’t hurt him to sleep either. But he knew Zachary Winfield too well for that. “I’m sure it was the right decision. Mr. President, is there anything I can do for you?”

“I don’t know!” Winfield exclaimed. “God, how did we let this happen? Jean and I wanted the kids to have as normal a life as they could. We didn’t want them caged in this house forever. I was the one who gave the order to let them attend the party; I thought it was safe. We all thought it was safe. Now…” he shook his head helplessly. “Now they’re gone, and I’m here, and I can’t do anything!” He flung his arms out weakly and sat down on one of the couches.

Myles stood awkwardly for a moment, wondering what to do. No matter how much his life changed, he didn’t know if he would ever be completely comfortable in these situations. He thought of the case file he had brought with him to skim through during the drive to the White House, and it gave him an idea. He had a feeling Zachary’s physician wouldn’t approve of this course of action, but he knew his friend. He pulled the file from his briefcase, taking care to discreetly slip a few photographs back into the bag. “Mr. President, there might be something you could do. If you’d like, we can go over the case from the beginning. Every input could lead to the answer we’re seeking.”

Winfield looked at him and then glanced at the file. For the first time in the visit, a spark of hope flickered in his eyes. “Okay, let’s get started.”

Weak and wounded sinner, lost and left to die;
O, raise your head, for love is passin’ by…

Washington, D.C.
April 23
9:15 p.m.

Myles looked out at the D.C. night as the White House driver took him back to the Bureau. In the evening, this part of the city was soft white light and civilized romance, with the omniscient Washington Monument silently observing it all. He had spent over an hour discussing the case with Zach; the President had relished the chance to be an active participant in his children’s rescue. Myles had noticed that the White House staff hadn’t interrupted them even once; apparently they were making every effort to reduce the President’s workload right now.

He understood that it wasn’t a good time to be making major policy decisions, but he had encouraged Zachary to go about the duties of his office as best he could. “With all due respect, sitting here by yourself is the fastest route to insanity. Do what you can to stay busy, and trust us to find them. Trust me.” Something had shifted in Winfield’s countenance then, and Myles was hopeful that the President had found a lifeline of sorts.

His thoughts wandered as the car traveled along the D.C. streets, his mind eventually stopping as it often did lately on the subject of Tara Williams. Myles had never let himself hope for the kind of marriage that Zach and Jean Winfield enjoyed. When he thought about the concept at all, he imagined himself with some elegant socialite from an impeccable family, someone of whom his parents would approve. He had pictured a relationship of mutual interests and respectful affection, with no deeper emotions mucking the waters.

He wasn’t quite sure how or when thoughts of Tara had begun altering that picture. She wasn’t at all the kind of woman he’d imagined for himself, and he’d worked with her for several years without recognizing a deeper attraction between them. His image of her had begun to change during the serial murderer case they had worked on six months ago. Being by her side during the investigation had reinforced his already positive opinion of her professionalism and dedication. He’d also appreciated her intelligence and wit. Although he was careful not to show it, he did enjoy trivia and technical discussions from time to time, warming to anything that challenged his intellect. He had attended Harvard, after all.

The night that Tara had interviewed Joshua Evans, Myles had been…amazed. He’d found himself astounded by her courage and deeply touched by her willingness to endure an emotional nightmare in the search for justice. He had taken her home that evening and promised not to leave her, and had startled himself with the permanence of his intentions. He had almost convinced himself that what had happened had been the result of temporary insanity, but then the following evening he had kissed her. She had hugged him out of relief that Sue was going to be okay, and he had been overwhelmed by how good it felt to hold her. It had felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if he had been waiting for this his whole life. And so he had kissed her and had found himself thinking the kind of things he had always ridiculed before.

He had stayed with her that night. She had insisted that she was fine, but he had thought of his own past experiences and wondered. Sure enough, sometime in the early morning hours he had awoken to the sound of her screams. Moving quickly into her room, he had approached the bed just as she sat up with a gasp. She’d startled for just a moment when she saw him, instinctively preparing for a fight.

He had spoken quickly to alleviate her fears. “Tara, it’s me.”

“Myles.” Her voice had been shaky. “I’m sorry; I had a bad dream. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s no problem,” he had replied soothingly, reaching out to switch on the light. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Almost involuntarily she had shaken her head. He’d waited. Finally she had sighed and moved over on the bed, patting the space beside her. He’d sat down, taking her hand in his. Several long moments had passed before she spoke, her voice fragile. “It’s always the same thing. I never see faces, or weapons, or bodies. There’s never anything concrete, never actual events of any kind. It’s just…a cloud. This dark, horrible, angry cloud. Black, with rivers of blood swirling through it. It just hovers there, waiting. It grows bigger and bigger, and I know it’s going to reach me. But I can’t move…I know it’s coming, but I just stand there. And then it covers me, and I start screaming.” Her voice had trailed off as she stared unseeing at their joined hands.

“It’s happened before?” Myles had prompted gently.

She’d nodded. “A few times, after difficult cases. Carlos Gonzalez.”

“Have you ever considered talking to someone about it?”

A shake of the head. “Not about the dream, no. It will go away eventually; it always does.”

Understanding to some degree and not wanting to push just yet, he’d simply said, “Okay.”

She’d continued as if she hadn’t even heard him. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

His hand had tightened on hers. “No. I was expecting it.” He’d certainly had similar experiences during parts of his life that he didn’t like remembering.

That had gotten her attention, bringing her troubled gaze to his. She’d read a few of his secrets in his eyes and nodded slowly. The scrutiny had made him uncomfortable, causing him to clear his throat and look for something to do. He liked action instead of emotion; doing was much easier than sharing. “Would you like some water?” At her grateful nod and all too knowing smile, he’d moved into the bathroom and filled a glass. It was a temporary escape, however; when he’d returned to the bedroom she’d held out her hand again, and he had gone without hesitation. They’d sat together as she drank some of the cool liquid; she’d leaned her head against his shoulder as she began to get sleepy.

“Myles?”

“Hmm?”

She’d tried to cover an enormous yawn. “I don’t understand this. I don’t open up to people. I’m friendly enough, but I don’t talk about personal things like this very easily. And don’t get me wrong, but the fact that it’s you…” she’d stopped, embarrassed.

A chuckle had rumbled up from his chest. She was cute when she was sleepy. “Just consider it the abnormal result of too much stress and exhaustion. You’ll wake up in the morning and hate me again.”

Shaking her head against his shoulder, she’d mumbled, “Never hate. Just…don’t understand. Don’t know what to do with you.” And with that statement, she’d drifted off to sleep.

He’d sat for a moment, overcome by the events of the evening and what she’d revealed. An abundance of emotions had welled up inside him that he’d done his best to ignore. Finally he’d stood, easing her gently onto the pillow and covering her with a blanket. He had watched her sleep for another moment before switching off the light and returning to his room.

Hoover Building
Washington, D.C.
April 23
9:30 p.m.

Jack nodded at Myles as the blond agent walked into the Bullpen. “Good, you’re back. How’s the President holding up?”

“He wants his children back,” Myles said grimly. “Let’s not make him wait any longer. What do we have?”

“Sue was just about to brief us on the tape of the abduction,” Jack replied.

Myles nodded and joined the other team members. Spotting Bobby, he said, “I thought you were going to sit in during the Secret Service interviews.”

“I’m going there in a bit, Mate. D is with them right now,” Bobby explained in a whisper as Sue began speaking.

“I’m going to play the tape through once to let you see it. Tell me what you think.” The tape began running, displaying the scene behind the Garden Patch restaurant just minutes before the Winfield children were abducted. They watched as the government-issue black Suburban suddenly exploded into flames, instantly killing the agent seated inside. Seconds later, almost unnoticed during the resulting confusion, two vehicles identical to the one just destroyed pulled into the alley. Eight black-clad figures stepped out and began shooting, efficiently mowing down the three agents remaining in the alley as well as the two snipers overhead.

Agent Billings opened the back door of the restaurant and stepped out, his gun in his hand. He appeared to be shouting something but was shot before he could take action. Billings’ killer stepped over his body and into the restaurant, returning to the alley just moments later with the two frightened children in his firm grasp. The children were forced into separate vehicles; Myles felt his jaw tighten painfully as he watched a particularly vicious monster throw Madison Winfield none too gently into the back of one of the Suburbans. The gunmen climbed in after the children, and the two vehicles left the alley just minutes after they had arrived.

Silence reigned in the Bullpen as everyone tried to process what had just been seen. Bobby spoke first.

“Bastards.”

Jack nodded. “And it’s our job to catch them. So, what did you see?”

“Well planned and executed,” Myles said. “Create a diversion, bring in two vehicles identical to the one in service, take down the opposition efficiently…”

“Too efficiently,” Bobby noted. “Did you see the way they took out the snipers? They knew exactly where to aim. Put the kids in separate cars…increases the coverage area needed and gives them a better chance of getting away with at least one of the victims.”

“Good timing,” Tara said thoughtfully. “From the explosion to the moment they drove away…perfect planning.”

Jack agreed. “The operative word here is ‘Plan’. The Secret Service keeps too close a watch on its equipment for that bomb to have been an outside job. And you’re right, Bobby; they knew exactly where to look for those snipers. They had inside help on this, and my money’s on one of the agents closest to the action.”

“But which one?” Lucy wondered. “We can count out the driver of the Suburban, but that still leaves the three on the ground, plus two snipers and Billings.”

“Billings opened the door to the alley. Surely that’s a breach of Service protocol,” Myles said.

“Exactly,” Tara replied. “The question is, was it a mistake on his part, or did he do it on purpose? And did he kill Ms. Wallace, or was she still alive when the gunman entered the restaurant?”

“Do we have a ballistics report yet?” Bobby wanted to know.

“Preliminary report is a 38 with a silencer; we’ll know more within the hour. The bullet didn’t come from Billings’ service weapon; in fact, nothing that would match was found at the scene. Sue, did you get anything off the tape?” Jack asked.

“I didn’t notice anything unusual from the other agents on the ground before or after the explosion,” Sue answered. “Of course, they didn’t have much time to respond afterwards. I’m sure you noticed that Billings said something when he opened the door.”

“Could you tell what it was?” Lucy asked.

Sue’s face was grim. “It was hard to see because he was yelling, but I think…” she sighed. “He said ‘They’re in here.’ ”

~~~

For the second time in just a few minutes everyone was silent. Then Jack spoke, his voice quietly furious. “I want absolutely everything we have on Billings. If he had a hangnail, I want to know about it. My guess is he killed Wallace and then opened the door to let the gunmen in. Most fire exits won’t open from the outside. He had to know the follow-up investigation would expose him; he probably intended to leave with the kidnappers. Apparently they had other plans.” He glanced around the room. “Do we have any leads on the group behind this?”

Bobby spoke up. “My source didn’t have any specifics, but he said the Liberators had the manpower and style for something like this. And there’s word on the street that they’ve come into some big money of late.”

“Excuse me; I didn’t catch that name,” Sue said.

“The Liberators.” Tara fingerspelled it as she spoke. “An all-purpose domestic terrorist organization that gained momentum after 911. They have their fingers into everything from the environment to political prisoners to homeland security, and they have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Lots of drama in today’s action,” Jack grimaced as he reached for his ringing telephone. “Hudson.” He listened for awhile, his face expressing a growing excitement. After asking a few pointed questions, he hung up. “Looks like your source was dead on, Crash. The Liberators have been fingered for the attack this afternoon; what’s more, we have an address. We’ll be providing backup for Stafford’s group. Let’s move.”

Now your burden’s lifted and carried far away,
and precious blood has washed away the stain…

McKenna Warehouse
Arlington, VA
April 23
6:00 p.m.

A squeal of gears badly in need of maintenance signaled the opening of the garage door and the entrance of the two black Suburbans. The Liberators had returned. Their collaborator allowed just the slightest derisive thought to filter across an organized mind. The Liberators. The human tendency to romanticize everything and give way to overly-sentimental theatrics never ceases to amaze me. Calculating eyes watched as the leader of the group hauled two young, frightened children out of the vehicles. “You’re later than I expected.” The comment was sharp, judgmental.

Irritation flashed across the leader’s face. “We discussed this. With the immediate lock-down of the city, our escape routes were limited. Besides, we had to be careful; we couldn’t come directly here.”

“Perhaps.” The eyes continued to observe, noting and cataloging minute details of the scene before them.

“We also discussed payment,” the leader insisted, “and a plan for using the little brats now that we have them.”

A single brow raised in imperious command. “We won’t speak of this in front of the children.”

Taunting amusement crept across the face of the other. “I wouldn’t have expected such soft-hearted concern from you. It’s almost…sweet.”

The barb stung, as he had surely known it would. Although regrettably prone to excess political posturing and dramatic displays of power, the leader was smart. He had figured out which approach would be most likely to wound. “It’s not concern; it’s practicality. The children are material witnesses.”

“You’re right, of course,” the leader agreed, but his eyes were still laughing. “We should take care of them before we finish our little chat. Is the room ready?”

“Never question my ability to fulfill my responsibilities.” A twist of the lips revealed displeasure. “I’ll take the children to their new quarters.” It was a testament to the force of a personality that the declaration went unchallenged.

The person who had orchestrated the abduction of President Winfield’s children guided those same children into a small office and followed them inside. One well-groomed hand closed and locked the door, while the other pressed a button on a transmitter tucked inside a pant’s pocket. Two intelligent, soulless eyes watched out of the window in the door as the leader and his group began to suffer from the effects of the colorless, odorless gas that now filled the hanger in which they stood.

This was the tricky part. The door had been reinforced to withstand bullets and additional physical pressure in the event the gas didn’t kill as quickly as reported. It was unnecessary; the black-clad figures in the other room were quickly overcome with agony. A camera was pressed to the glass, and numerous pictures were taken. My one weakness. I do so enjoy an accurate record.

When all of the people in the other room were dead, the children’s abductor turned to them. “The only thing you need to know is that I don’t care if you live or die. I have a plan, and you will do exactly as you’re told. Do you understand?” The frightened children nodded shakily, already taking on the mannerisms of hunted things. “Good.” A hand reached out to Madison Winfield. “My dear, I need something from you.”

That detail was taken care of quickly, and an ironic glance was cast back into the hanger. “I believe we’ll exit another way.” A hidden door had been built specifically for this purpose weeks ago; it was slightly amusing that the leader hadn’t thoroughly checked the integrity of what he had assumed would be the children’s prison. He had been smart, but all too easily led. The children and their captor walked out of the building and into the approaching evening.

McKenna Warehouse
Arlington, VA
April 23
10:30 p.m.

“Okay people, give me a final systems check.” Alex Stafford’s hushed voice commanded. “Start with the headsets. Morris?”

“Check.”

“Lansing.”

“Read you.”

“Hudson…”

The list continued, with agents from four different teams reporting in. When his turn came, Myles responded from his location beside Sue and Tara in the surveillance van. Jack had relegated him to support work until they knew what they were facing.

“Williams.”

“All systems go,” Tara replied. “Video and audio functioning at maximum capacity.”

“Good,” Stafford said. “Now remember, we’re using level one security precautions. You all have full protective gear, and I expect you to use it. Keep your masks on. Jenkins, do we have MILCAM data yet?”

The tech’s reply was hesitant. “Yes, sir. I’m reading heat signatures…but they’re not moving. The scale is wrong, too.”

“Meaning?”

“Sir…if this scanner is correct, then the people in that building have been dead for at least three hours.”

Inside the van, Sue gasped and looked up from the text screen in front of her. She reached out to touch Myles’ arm. “We don’t know that it’s them.”

Tara cast a sympathetic glance at the man beside her before returning her attention to the computer. Her fingers flew over the keys for several seconds before she reported, “I have secondary confirmation on those thermal measurements. The computer verifies eight distinct identities, with body heat values ranging from ninety to ninety-four degrees Fahrenheit.”

“Age?” Jack asked tersely.

Tara made a few calculations. “Adult, with eighty-nine percent certainty.”

She pushed her headset aside and said gently to Myles, “That percentage is really good for this system. They’re not in there; I’m sure of it.”

He held her gaze for one agonized second before nodding and returning his attention to the screen in front of him.

“Acknowledged.” Stafford’s voice was even, committed. “First team, move in.”

The next few minutes passed with well-orchestrated, professional efficiency. Finally, the report came back. “Visual confirmation of eight bodies, all adult male. No other contacts in the building.”

Myles relaxed just slightly, but the look on his face remained somber as they saw the first video images of the scene inside the warehouse.

“This was ugly; I’m thinking gas…Sarin, maybe. Jenkins, what’s the chemical reading?” Stafford asked.

“Sarin gas,” came the reply. “Large amounts of it, dissipating slowly. We’ll need hazard control, sir.”

“Go outside and start calling people,” Alex ordered. “But go through decon first. We’re going to toe the line on protective measures on this one-” he broke off abruptly. When he spoke again, the tension in his voice had increased exponentially. “I’m going to need evidence recovery over here.”

“What? What is it?” Myles asked sharply. He looked at the screens in front of him, trying desperately to see what had captured Stafford’s notice.

“Hold on.” Tara switched one of the consoles to a different camera and felt a sudden intense pressure in her chest as she saw the image that appeared on the screen. Hearing Myles take a shaky breath, she reached over to grab his hand, intertwining her fingers firmly with his. The monitor displayed a single curl of delicate blond hair taped to the glass of a door inside the hanger.

The desperate whisper filled the van. “Maddy…”

Tara Jackson’s Apartment
Fairfax, VA
May 2
6:45 p.m.

Tara glanced with dissatisfaction around her new living room. It had been nine days since the raid on the warehouse in Arlington. After that fruitless effort, she had made one last plea to remain on the case. It hadn’t worked; Jack had been adamant that she begin the Howard Industries project the next day. So she had moved into her new apartment and started work the following Monday. She had fit in at the company quite easily; computers didn’t change much, regardless of the subject matter.

Every night she returned to her tiny residence and stared at the walls. She couldn’t communicate with any of her friends, and she had no clue how the Winfield case was progressing. She had asked Maclay, her contact, about it. He either hadn’t known or was so young that he still believed in playing by the book with regard to confidentiality. She didn’t even know if the lock of hair they had found at McKenna was Madison’s; information about the raid hadn’t been released to the media.

She left the television running the entire time she was at home, for all the good it did. She’d never realized how little information was actually provided to the general public. She glared at the offending appliance now as an impossibly attractive news anchor discussed the effect the children’s abduction was having on the President’s standing in the polls. Given the reporter’s irritating perkiness, the story could have been about a seventy-percent discount at Nordstrom’s.

Tara was just about to change the channel in disgust when a familiar face appeared on the screen. Instinctively moving her thumb from the ‘channel’ button to volume’, Tara turned up the sound and listened as the announcer explained that Special Agent Myles Leland of the FBI was the President’s close friend.

“Leland the Third,” she muttered under her breath. “At least try to get it right.” The picture shifted to a video of Myles speaking; apparently he had given a news briefing. Quickly she rose from the couch and moved to insert a blank tape in the VCR. She pressed ‘record’ and then watched until the clip was finished. When the news station moved on to a different topic, Tara replayed the tape, listening to the deep elegance of his voice.

“President Winfield and I met at Harvard; we’ve been friends for almost twenty years. I have the utmost respect and affection for Zachary and his wife, and I feel tremendous concern for the pain they’re experiencing right now…”

She played the tape several times, watching his face and listening to that wonderful voice. She hadn’t admitted to herself until this moment how much she missed him. That last afternoon…but she wasn’t ready to think about that yet. Walking into the bedroom, she looked through the closet until she found the sweatshirt she wanted. She shouldn’t have brought it with her, but she had decided the plain green sweater couldn’t possibly be damaging to her cover story.

It was his, but Tara wasn’t even sure that he realized it was missing. He had left it at her place during the weeks following Sue’s hospitalization, sometime during the nightmares. She slipped out of her clothes and pulled the sweater over her head. It was warm and large; it fell to her thighs and enveloped her in his presence. Curling up on the bed, she closed her eyes and remembered…



Tara Williams’ Apartment
Washington, D.C.
November 6
8:30 a.m.

“Good morning,” he greeted her as she entered the kitchen. He was standing at the stove, making omelets.

“Good morning.” She had been surprised the first time she woke to find him preparing breakfast; it shamed her now to remember how she had assumed he couldn’t cook. If she had learned anything about Myles these past few weeks, it was that he had a lot more depth than she had given him credit for. “I could get spoiled, waking up to this.”

He smiled. “I’m rewarding you for a sound sleep last night. No nightmares?”

“Not a one.” He had stayed with her every night since the Evans case ended, arriving at her home in time for supper and remaining until morning. She had protested at first, until she had learned how quietly stubborn he could be. Eventually she had given up and started cooking enough for two. She had drawn the line at changing the dinner menu, however. If he wanted to hover, he could do it with her tastes and on her budget. He hadn’t complained. He had eaten whatever she prepared and then spent the evening chatting with her or quietly reading if she needed space. And every night, he had been there when she awoke from hell.

About two weeks after his first visit, he didn’t show up for supper. She hadn’t been too surprised. He had spoken to Jack that day about Sue’s trip to Ohio, and whatever had been said between them had left him troubled. Still, it had bothered her more than she had expected. She had held dinner until the last possible minute and had left his portion warming in the oven while she ate at a dining table that suddenly seemed much too large for one person. Finally, she had put the extra food away to take to work the next morning.

He had arrived just as she had dispiritedly shut down her computer and prepared for bed. The Leland defensive barriers had been in full effect; all she could read in his eyes had been caution. He had mumbled an excuse for being late, and she had reminded him that he didn’t owe her anything. As if unable to stop himself, he had reached out to touch her cheek. “Yes, I do.”

The next morning had been the first time he fixed breakfast, and he hadn’t missed a morning or evening meal since. Gradually, they had worked out an arrangement where they could be disturbingly intimate and yet somehow retain an emotional distance. He had held her after her nightmares but had made no effort to touch her romantically. She had understood all of the many reasons behind his restraint.

Today, watching him cook in her kitchen, Tara realized how much avoidance they had been practicing. “Myles, I haven’t had a nightmare in over a week.”

He shot her a glance. “Is the worst over, do you think?”

“I’ll probably still have the dream occasionally, but it won’t be as frequent or as intense.” She didn’t tell him that sometimes she saw the oppressive cloud while she was awake; she had seen it in Joshua Evan’s eyes.

He returned his attention to his cooking, his eyes almost determinedly fixated on the stove. “I suppose it’s time I went home, then.”

She knew why it was a good idea; she just wished it didn’t make her so sad. “You can still visit sometimes, if you want. I’d like to think we’ve become friends.”

“Of course,” he agreed, but they both felt awkward, and conversation during breakfast was stilted. She cleaned the kitchen while he packed his small overnight bag. When he met her in the living room, she found the courage to give him a hug.

“Thank you, Myles. Thank you so much for everything.”

“You’re welcome.” He pulled away to gaze at her, his eyes serious. “If you need anything, anything at all, you’ll call me.” It wasn’t a question.

She nodded, surprised to find tears in her eyes. She wasn’t normally this emotional; something about him seemed to awaken a rarely used corner of her heart. “I promise,” she whispered.

Some brief, wonderful thing flashed across his face, stealing another small part of her affection. He gently wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Thank you for your hospitality these past few weeks.”

She choked out a laugh. “Waking you every night to come hold my hand and fight off the demons…I’m sure it was–”

He quietly interrupted her. “It was a pleasure…more than you’ll ever know.” Leaning down, he kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you on Monday.” Then he was gone.

She found the green sweatshirt later that morning; somehow it had gotten mixed in with her laundry. She washed it, knowing she had no intention of returning it. She slept in it that night, snuggling into it to ward off her disappointment that he was gone. She suffered through an entire week of awkward moments at work and loneliness at home before he called her the next weekend.

“How are you doing?” That amazing voice filtered across the phone line and into her heart.

“I’m fine.” Knowing he would want more information, she added, “No more nightmares.”

“That’s good.” He paused for a moment and then continued uncertainly, “Would you like to go to dinner tonight?” He named a well-lit, casual restaurant some distance from both of their neighborhoods, and she immediately understood what he couldn’t say.

“I’d love to.” Her smile felt as if it were going to need its own zip code. “I’ll meet you there?”

His comprehension and relief were obvious. “That’s fine. Six-thirty?”

“Yes.” She went, and they had a wonderful time.

They played it that way for quite awhile, carefully sharing fun, friendly activities. They went to the Smithsonian American History Museum and enjoyed a chilly afternoon touring the United States Botanic Garden. One memorable Saturday she had dragged him to the mall to go shopping. Three hours and four very disgruntled sales associates later, she had marched back out to the car, muttering unpleasant comments about his parentage under her breath.

“What I don’t understand is how someone with your upbringing could have such bad manners,” she complained. “You had that last poor kid in tears.”

“Etiquette has no place in a discussion concerning that appalling display they were trying to pass off as fine jewelry,” he sniffed. “I’m reasonably sure you can get better diamonds from a child’s vending machine.”

She looked at him with a mixture of irritation and amusement. “Oh Myles…it’s okay. Just remind me to never take you shopping again.”

“I assure you that I can be a most agreeable companion in a reputable establishment,” he replied indignantly, but a slight smile curled around the edges of his mouth.

She snorted and turned to look out the passenger window as they exited the parking lot. Several minutes passed in good-natured silence, and then Tara gasped. “Myles, look!”

They were waiting at a traffic light; he gamely glanced around to see what had caught her attention. “It would help if you told me where to look.”

“Over there, the billboard for the Washington National Opera. It’s Tosca!” Something like rapture had entered her voice.

He glanced at her curiously. “Opera? I’ll admit it; you’ve surprised me.”

Her posture was immediately defensive. “Why? Do you think I’m just a typical computer nerd who wouldn’t appreciate culture if I tripped over it?”

“I never said that–” he began.

“Because that’s not true,” she continued, completely ignoring his protest. “I love opera; it requires precision and immense talent to perform well. When it’s done correctly, it’s amazingly beautiful. I apologize for challenging your pre-conceived notions about my level of sophistication, but–”

“Let’s go,” he said somewhat desperately.

She stopped, flustered. “What? Go where?”

He took a deep breath. “Let’s go see Tosca. Tonight.”

“Tonight?” she asked incredulously. “We couldn’t possibly get tickets this late.”

“I’ll get the tickets,” he said firmly.

She wasn’t sure this was a good idea. Museums and shopping malls were innocent enough, but this was the Washington National Opera. This meant the evening gown hanging in the back of her closet and the perfume she kept on her dresser for special occasions. This meant spending the evening with a handsome gentleman, watching from a darkened theater as a romantic tragedy unfolded on stage. “I’m not sure…”

He reached across to touch her hand. “Tara, please. I can see on your face how much you want to go.” Seeing her hesitation, he continued, “You can pay for your own ticket if you’d prefer.”

She chuckled at his look of distaste. “Such sacrifice.” Taking pity on him as a slight flush colored his cheeks, she capitulated. “Okay, let’s go. But we will split the cost. Now take me home so that I can get ready.”

So they attended the opera that evening, and it was everything that frightened and thrilled her. She did her best to look breathtaking and succeeded, if the expression on his face was any indication. He did some work of his own on the oxygen levels in the room, with his well-cut black tuxedo. The music was beautiful and heartbreakingly sad. He sat beside her in the dark, patting her arm and pressing a handkerchief into her hand.

He saw her home and followed her inside, away from curious eyes. As always, his kiss was gentle and reserved, but it wasn’t on the cheek like last time. This was most definitely not just a kiss between friends. That evening she went to sleep in his sweater, surrounded by dreams of a completely different kind.


Tara Jackson’s Apartment
Fairfax, VA
May 2
8:30 p.m.

Tara shook herself from her reverie and was amazed to see that she had spent over an hour thinking about Myles. With a disgusted snort, she went to get ready for bed. She wasn’t going to dwell on him anymore…but she was sleeping in the sweatshirt tonight.

Like a newborn baby, don’t be afraid to crawl.
And remember when you walk, sometimes we fall…

May 2

Jeffrey Winfield wished his daddy were here. Dad would know what to do, and then they could go home. Jeff knew he was here because his daddy was the President. That was a big deal. If his daddy would come, he would fix it.

He tried to think of what his dad would want him to do. It was hard, because he was sleepy all the time. He knew he should try to take care of his sister, but Maddy wasn’t here. He thought she was probably in the next room, because he could hear her crying sometimes. Sometimes she didn’t cry, and then he got really scared. But she would always cry again later, so he decided that maybe she was sleepy, too. He tried to talk to her, but she didn’t answer. Maybe she didn’t hear him because she was crying too hard. But she seemed to calm down a little when he talked, so maybe she was just too afraid to say anything. Anyway, it calmed her down, so he kept talking.

They got peanut butter and jelly sandwiches sometimes. And water. That was good. He liked peanut butter and jelly, and so did Maddy. He would have liked some chips to go with it, or maybe an apple. Jeff liked apples.

He wondered if Maddy’s room was empty, like his. There was a place to sleep and a blanket. There was a potty and a sink. Jeff could use the potty all by himself, but Maddy still made mistakes sometimes. He hoped she was okay. He knew she probably missed her Betty Anne doll and the pretty red blanket she kept on her bed at home. He was too big for dolls and blankets, but he did have a cool pilot bear his daddy had given him. It came from a real Navy ship. He would have liked it if he could have brought Captain Bear; it wouldn’t have been so scary then.

Jeff coughed and felt the pain in his chest. That was the other thing. He thought that maybe he was sick, and he didn’t know who would take care of Maddy if he got sick. His throat hurt, and he felt real hot. If he were home, Mommy would feed him soup and wash his face with a cool rag. He really wanted to go home. He was sleepy again, so he got into the bed. Maybe when he woke up, somebody would be here to take them home.

Hoover Building
Washington, D.C.
May 3
2:15 p.m.

Myles tossed aside the Winfield case file in disgust. Ten days. Ten days since Maddy and Jeff had been abducted, and there were no leads. DNA evidence had confirmed that it was Maddy’s hair that had been left at the warehouse; it had been taped to the inside of the office door. They had determined that the office had operated on a separate ventilation system from the hanger. An attempt to locate the building’s owner had so far been unsuccessful; the name on the mortgage was almost certainly an alias.

They had found a concealed door in the office that led outside. The theory was that an unknown assailant had hired the Liberators to kidnap the children and had then killed the lead members of the group once they had accomplished their objective. The children and their abductor had exited through the office as the Sarin gas had been released into the hanger. At least, Myles hoped that Maddy and Jeff had escaped before that deadly gas filled the building. For all intents and purposes, the children had walked out of the McKenna Warehouse and into a black hole. There was absolutely no information about them after that night.

Closing his eyes, he pictured Maddy and Jeff as he had last seen them. They were so pretty and sweet. If he ever had kids, he wanted them to be just like the Winfield children. He remembered the afternoon that he had spoken to Tara about having a family. It had started out as a simple conversation but had led to one of the most intense emotional experiences of his life…


Tara Williams’ Apartment
Washington, D.C.
April 16
4:00 p.m.

Tara opened the door and smiled at him. “Hi! I wasn’t expecting to see you today. Did we have plans?”

He couldn’t speak for a moment. She was wearing black cotton pants and a soft coral sweater. Her feet were bare, and her toenail polish matched the color of her sweater. With her hair falling around her face in gentle waves, she looked…sexy. Warm, comfortable. He was struck again by how very much he enjoyed being in her presence.

“Myles? Are you okay?” She was looking at him with a puzzled expression on her face, and he realized that he had been staring at her like an idiot.

He took a deep breath. “Yes, sorry. I…you…” He gave a bemused shake of his head and decided to tell her the truth. “You look beautiful.”

She blushed and looked down at the floor. Seeing her bare feet seemed to embarrass her even further; she tucked one pale foot behind the other and looked back up at him uncertainly. “Thanks. So…did you come all the way over here just to say that?”

Yes. “No. I had some free time and…may I come in?”

Her eyes widened. “Of course! I’m sorry; please do.” She opened the door wider and gestured towards the living room.

He walked in and sat on the couch. “I should have called first. Did I interrupt anything?”

“No.” The blush that hadn’t quite left her cheeks deepened again. “I hate to admit it, but I was playing Nintendo.”

“Ah.” Now he noticed the video equipment on the floor in front of the television. “I would have pegged you for Internet gaming.”

“I do that sometimes, but I’ve had this setup for a long time. It’s fun…makes for good stress relief.” She didn’t have to mention work; he understood. The whole team had been really busy lately; Tara in particular had been getting ready to do some undercover work. She continued hurriedly, “Anyway, don’t worry about that. It’s silly.”

He looked at her and then at the television. “Can you set it so that two people can play?”

Her face reflected her surprise. “You’re challenging me to a match?”

He gave her a crooked little smile. “Of course not. If I accomplished nothing else at Harvard, I learned a healthy respect for my own limitations. I’m asking for beginner lessons.”

She was still doubtful. “Are you sure?”

In answer, he kicked off his shoes and pushed up the sleeves of his lightweight sweater. Moving to sit on the floor in front of the TV, he glanced up at her expectantly. “What do I do?”

She stared at him for a long moment before breaking out into a full-fledged grin. “Okay; let me restart the game.”

They played for over an hour, and he thought he did fairly well. She told him he learned quickly. Maybe she was just trying to be kind, but he liked to believe that he’d impressed her with his keen mind and lightning-fast reflexes. When they finished putting away the equipment, she glanced at the clock and said, “Oh Myles, I’m so sorry. You’ve been here for more than an hour, and I haven’t offered you a drink or anything. Would you like something?”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I know my way around your place; I could have served myself. I would like some water, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. I’ll be right back.”

As she hurried into the kitchen, he thought about what he had just said. It was the truth; he felt almost as comfortable in her home as he did in his own. In addition to all of the events they had attended around town, they had also enjoyed many Saturday afternoons indoors, reading or playing games. She was the only person he knew who could challenge him at Scrabble, but that was because she knew all those computer terms. She also played a good game of chess, well organized if a bit conservative. She really excelled at Trivial Pursuit, but he’d already known she had a passion for that sort of thing.

To his astonishment, he had discovered over the past few months that he really enjoyed her company. They had a good time together, and they were careful to keep the relationship platonic. At least, that was how it worked most of the time. He thought of a certain Valentine’s Day gift and smiled ruefully. Holidays were his secret weakness.

He glanced over at her mantle, searching for the picture that he knew he would find. It was a photo of the whole team, taken on New Year’s Eve. Lucy had badgered them all into attending a party at some club downtown. Garrett couldn’t make it, and if Myles remembered correctly, Jack and Sue hadn’t stayed very long. Sue didn’t enjoy that kind of atmosphere because she had a difficult time reading lips in the dim lighting. Besides, Myles had suspected that Jack had made other plans for celebrating with his lovely girlfriend. They’d certainly seemed eager to leave quickly.

Darcy had taken the picture early in the evening, when they were all still together. She had wanted a picture of just the team. Jack had been standing behind Sue, his arms around her waist. They were smiling brightly, so obviously in love with each other. Lucy, D, and Bobby had stood to one side of the happy couple, which had left Myles and Tara together on the other side. Myles had placed his hand on Tara’s lower back, and the camera had captured an intimacy that was startling in its transparency.

She had looked so pretty that night, and he had danced with her more often than was circumspect. At the stroke of midnight he had kissed her on the corner of her mouth and had felt her body tremble in response to the emotions he was trying so desperately to control. He had worried then that they had drawn too much attention to themselves, and it had seemed as if everyone at work had been watching them closely for the next few weeks. Soon afterwards, however, they had all been involved in a big case; the team’s focus had been diverted elsewhere.

Another photo on her mantle captured his interest; this one was of Tara holding a small baby. The child was sleeping, and Tara was looking into the camera with a brilliant smile on her face and just the slightest hint of longing in her eyes. He reached out to touch the picture, startled to find an answering hunger in his own soul. For just a moment, he could almost imagine–

“Sorry I took so long,” Tara said breathlessly. “I decided to make some sandwiches because I didn’t eat much earlier.”

He hurriedly snatched his hand away from the incriminating photo. “It’s no problem; the sandwiches look wonderful. I was…I was just looking at your pictures.” He cleared his throat and couldn’t quite bring himself to face her.

“That’s my friend Julie’s new baby.” Tara set the serving tray down on the coffee table and moved to stand beside him. “I went to visit them last month in Atlanta. I took vacation time, remember?”

He remembered. She had been gone for part of a week and the entire weekend, and he had missed her. Now he watched as she looked at the photo, and he saw the same longing in her eyes that the photographer had captured weeks ago. Some unidentifiable emotion gripped his heart. “Is it a boy or a girl?” he asked huskily. He could never tell with very young babies.

“A boy.” Her lips twisted in amusement. “Bernard…it’s a family name.”

He laughed. “Well, thank goodness my name is the epitome of sophistication. My namesake will have no cause for embarrassment.”

The wistful expression in her eyes was replaced by alarm as she looked up at him in shock. “You wouldn’t really name your son Myles Leland IV, would you?”

He drew himself up to his full height. “Why not?” he asked with mock severity. “It’s a noble, distinguished moniker from a respected family.”

“Exactly. How is the poor kid going to have any kind of life with that millstone hanging around his neck?” she demanded.

He grinned, deciding to test her a little. “I suppose you would name him Bruce or Tucker or something equally inappropriate.”

She put her hands on her hips and gave him the full force of her indignation, her eyes flashing. “I do have some class, you know. I’ll come up with a perfectly good name, but we are not calling our son Myles Leland IV!”

He waited just a moment, smiling at her, and thoroughly enjoyed her reaction when she realized what she’d said.

“Not that we’d have a son. I mean, of course I would never have a child with you. No, wait…I didn’t mean it like that. I think you’ll be a great dad someday, just not…” Flustered, she closed her eyes, and he decided to take the opportunity presented to him. He cupped her face with his hands and leaned down to press his lips against the softness of her mouth.

When she didn’t resist, he deepened the kiss, pulling her body flush against his own. She made a little sound in the back of her throat and wrapped her arms around his neck. This was by far the most intimate kiss they had shared, and when it was over he held her tightly against his chest and thought of what it would be like to hold her this way forever. As he was trying to calm his breathing, he realized that she had said something he found very peculiar. Pulling away, he looked at her with surprise. “You think I would be a good father?”

She blinked, obviously trying to regain her balance. Finally she smiled at him. “Yes, I do. I can understand your doubts on the subject, but…” she paused, running her fingers through his hair as she thought. Finally she continued, “I think you have an enormous capacity for love; you just don’t know how to use it yet.”

He gazed at her for a moment. Maybe I’m learning. He leaned down to kiss her again, briefly. “And I think you’re going to be a wonderful mother…and wife.”

She looked at him, his future in her eyes. “Myles–” she was interrupted by the doorbell. She grimaced and said, “Sorry. Hold on to that thought...please.” Moving across the room and opening the door, she could barely hide her dismay. “Lucy.”

“Hey, you’re not dressed. Did you forget that we were going to the movies tonight?” Lucy walked into the living room as Tara cast a helpless glance at Myles.

“No, I was…Myles is here.”

“So I see.” Lucy’s expression implied that she saw plenty. “Hello, Myles.”

“Lucy.” Moving quickly, Myles slipped into his shoes and headed to the door. “Tara, I’ll talk to you later. Have a good time at the theater.”

“Myles…” Blushing under Lucy’s continued scrutiny, Tara said quietly, “I’ll talk to you later.

He nodded and left, trying to quell his disappointment.

Howard Industries
Fairfax, VA
May 3
3:00 p.m.

Tara leaned away from her desk to stretch her back muscles. As much as she loved computers, there was a drawback to pursuing her line of work: it required a lot of sitting. Rubbing her tired eyes, she acknowledged that staring at a monitor all day got a little old, too. Pressing a few keys on the keyboard to start another BLAST process, she decided it was time to take a break. As she walked down the hallway to the water fountain, she thought of what she had learned about Howard Industries over the past few days.

Virginia Howard had founded the company twenty-five years ago after receiving her doctorate in biology from Princeton. People had questioned her ability to manage the corporation, but she had silenced her critics by turning Howard Industries into a household name in molecular biology. Single and utterly devoted to her work, Virginia Howard was a brilliant geneticist and an even better businesswoman. She accepted only the best employees and equipment at her facility, and the result was cutting-edge, scientifically sound technology.

She ran a tight ship, paying well in exchange for industrious, loyal employees. Tara secretly thought the Bureau could learn something from the security measures in place here. Every member of the Howard team carried an ID badge and had to undergo a retinal scan each morning in order to get past the front desk. Employees and their belongings were screened upon entering and exiting the building. Cell phones, pagers, and recording devices of any kind were not allowed; even radios and audio CDs were forbidden.

The use of email for conducting business was permitted, but the network system in the facility had a stringent firewall and other protective measures in place. Tara didn’t kid herself about privacy; she would wager good money that every word spoken and every action taken in this building were recorded. She wouldn’t be too surprised to find cameras in the restrooms.

The company had come under suspicion two months ago when a former employee, a biochemist, had approached the FBI. Vikash Gupta claimed that someone at Howard Industries had falsified his lab reports, entering data for experiments that had never been conducted. Two weeks after he mentioned the problem to his supervisor, Vikash was blamed for an “accidental” chemical spill in the lab and subsequently fired.

The scientist’s accusation might have been ignored as an attempt to retaliate against the company for releasing him, except for one thing: Howard Industries held several governmental research grants, and the last annual review of those programs had raised some questions about project spending. The auditor who had performed the reviews said that while he couldn’t prove it, he had a suspicion that not all of the government’s money at Howard was actually being used for research.

Because the money in question was public, an in-depth study of the company’s budget and laboratory practices could be requested at any time; however, the Bureau decided not to use that approach. If someone was pocketing funds from Howard’s research budget, a direct investigation could scare him or her into hiding. The last thing anyone wanted was some vigilante scientist slipping off into the night with the knowledge to create a biological or chemical weapon and the money with which to build it.

As the FBI was considering its options, the company began advertising for a computer programmer. Tara happened to be free of casework at the time, and so she was chosen to go undercover. She had spent several days receiving a crash course in biology, her resume and personal history had been doctored, and two weeks later Howard Industries had hired Tara Jackson as its newest computer expert. Bioinformatics, the application of information technology to biological principles, was the perfect cover. Tara didn’t have to know much biology to do her job, and it gave her access to Howard’s massive computer system. Now she just had to be patient and observant.

Tara returned to her workstation and waited for the BLAST search to finish processing. One of the company’s major projects was maintenance of a large DNA sequencing database called BioNet. DNA was made up of four bases called Adenine, Thymine, Guanine, and Cytosine. Biologists usually shortened the names to A, T, G, and C, respectively. There were also some phosphates and sugars that made up part of the double-helix structure of DNA that people always talked about, but the important players were the bases.

Tara liked to think of the bases as building blocks: if you stacked enough of them together in the right order, you made something both structurally beautiful and functional. Put the right three bases together and you got an amino acid; put the right amino acids together and you got a protein. As far as Tara could tell, proteins pretty much ran the biological universe.

A DNA sequence, then, was a list of the order in which the bases were put together on a strand of DNA. It was a long string of those four letters expressed over and over in a seemingly random pattern. DNA sequencing was an almost entirely automated process these days, using robotics and fluorescent markers for the bases. Sequences were processed from DNA gathered from tissue samples, and the results were uploaded to the BioNet database, which consisted of multiple libraries contributed to and shared by scientists all over the world. The BLAST program would then compare sequences from different sources to help account for duplicate copies of the same gene.

Tara had been hired to work on automating the process that happened after BLAST had double-checked all the sequences. BLAST looked at all new information as it was added to the database and categorized it as either already recognized DNA, junk sequencing, or novel gene segments. Novel gene segments were the holiest of grails, the new, potentially exciting discovery that could make or break a career…or a laboratory. The problem was that BLAST made a lot of mistakes with categorizing, and those currently had to be checked by hand. Tara was supposed to come up with a better way to do quality control on the process.

It wasn’t really a difficult programming question, but Tara had approached it with the same thoroughness with which she began all assignments. She started by spending several days walking through the entire sequencing series manually, getting a feel for how the different components should work. Beginning that way helped her put things into computer language later.

As she had gotten into the process, she had noticed that one of the accounts that contributed to BioNet seemed to have an unusually large number of junk DNA sequences. It was a recent account, from a company out of Dallas, and she was almost positive that every sequence she had seen from that corporation so far had been junk DNA. It just didn’t seem possible that none of the tissues sequenced from that lab were viable; there were usually at least some positive hits amongst the trash. So today she had pulled a list of every sequence submitted from that company and used BLAST to compare it to the entire BioNet database, looking for some sort of match.

A beep from her computer signaled that the program had finished running. She pressed a button, and the summary information was displayed on the screen. She stared at the data in disbelief. Not one of the sequences from the Dallas company represented an actual gene, which was highly improbable. Granted, the lab had only submitted a handful of sequences so far, but there were too many common genes in humans and other species for this kind of result. Either the Dallas lab didn’t know how to sequence correctly, or the BLAST program had a coding error. Or…her fingers halted over the keys as a thought came to her.

Quickly, she opened the text files that carried the actual sequences from the Dallas account and scanned through the lists of bases. There were certain patterns in sequences that were apparent to the naked eye; for example, the series “ATG” signified the amino acid Methionine, which functioned as a kind of biological “on-switch” that informed a cell to begin producing a protein. As she scanned the lists, her disbelief grew. None of these lists carried any recognizable biological patterns. At all.

Hurriedly, she closed the files and dumped the BLAST search without saving. She did all she safely could to cleanse her computer of all recent activity. As her fingers flew across the keys, her mind tumbled over the possibility that had occurred to her. What if these sequences weren’t sequences at all? What if the lists represented some kind of code? It was possible; the lists were just random sequences of the same four letters. If three bases could represent an amino acid, those same three bases could translate into a letter of the alphabet in someone’s code language. What if somebody was using the BioNet database to communicate with an outside source?

She wasn’t sure that it made sense. It almost seemed too complicated, and yet if both parties were using the same code, it wouldn’t really be that hard to do. In any case, she could investigate further; she had software back at the Bureau that might be able to decipher a code like this one. She would have to get it and find a way to smuggle it into the building. She didn’t dare try to take anything away from Howard Industries; security was always much stricter when leaving, for fear of industrial espionage. Agent Maclay couldn’t help with this; he wouldn’t have any idea of where to look for what she needed. She would just have to sneak into the Bureau tonight and get the program herself.

Sometimes the way is lonely, and steep and filled with pain,
so if your sky is dark and pours the rain…

Hoover Building
Washington, D.C.
May 3
9:30 p.m.

Tara walked into the Bullpen and stopped in surprise when she saw Myles seated at his desk. “Hi,” she said carefully. “You’re here by yourself?”

He looked up at her, and the intimate concern in his eyes reminded her all too clearly of the last time that she had been alone with this man. “Jack sent everyone home, but I couldn’t sleep,” he replied. “What about you? Is something wrong with your case?”

“No; in fact, I may have found something.” Briefly she told him about the possible code she had discovered hidden in Howard Industries’ computer database. “It would be an ideal way to bypass the security system and get information out of the building.”

He considered it for a moment. “Why use the Internet to communicate and then hire a new computer expert who might spot the discrepancy?”

“I thought about that,” Tara responded. “Maybe the person using the code has no control over the hiring process at Howard. It’s also possible that the criminal, if he or she exists, didn’t think I would know enough biology to recognize fake DNA sequences if I saw them.”

“True,” Myles agreed. “So, you’ve taken to lurking in the hallowed halls of our worthy establishment in the dark of night because…”

“Because I have a program that might be able to break the code.” She found the disk in her files and showed it to him, grinning sheepishly as she continued, “I didn’t trust Maclay to locate it for me.”

“I see. The Boy Wonder isn’t quite up to the task, and so Catwoman is going to bring down the corrupt corporation single-handedly?” Myles asked sardonically.

Tara smiled. “Well, only if she can rely on Batman for help. Could you please tell Jack I was here and give him the information I just told you?”

“I’m Batman?” The expression on Myles’ face was priceless.

“If the suit fits…” Tara replied. And Catwoman always had a thing for the mysterious superhero.

He chuckled, but his eyes quickly sobered. “How are you going to get the disk past Howard’s security team?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know; I hadn’t figured that part out yet.”

He cocked his head to one side, thinking. After a moment he stood abruptly and walked to one of the file cabinets across the room. “I believe it’s still here; I don’t think it was ever returned to the geniuses in Research.” Triumphantly, he pulled out a black briefcase. “Remember this? Jack used it when he had to carry those transmitters into that chemical plant last year.”

“Of course! How could I have forgotten about that?” Tara eagerly grabbed the bag. The security on that case rivaled what she was currently facing at Howard Industries. When Jack had needed to smuggle some equipment into the plant, the R&D people at the Bureau had produced this briefcase, complete with a hidden compartment. The lead-lined pouch stood a good chance of defeating an x-ray scan, if used correctly. The only thing an agent had to remember was to place the bag in the right position on the screening device; the wrong angle could produce a black spot over part of the bag’s image. “This is exactly what I needed. Thanks, Myles.”

“I live to serve,” he replied grandly. “Just be careful.”

Tara watched him return to his chair, and her eyes inevitably fell to the pictures spread across his desk. He was working on the Winfield case, of course. “Has there been any news?” she asked softly.

He shook his head. “It was Maddy’s hair at the warehouse; that’s all we know.”

She pulled up a chair and sat beside him. “I’m sorry.”

He picked up a photo of Jeffrey Winfield. “How will I face Zach and Jean if we don’t…”

“Stop it,” she said firmly. “You’re going to find them; I’m absolutely sure of it. I’m sure of you.”

He held her gaze, considering. Finally he smiled. “Thank you.” He gestured towards the photo. “Jeff’s a good kid; it really makes a person evaluate his choices. I’ll admit I’ve thought more than once about having a child, about what it would mean to have a son.”

Trying to lighten the mood, she teased, “Leland the Fourth?”

A small grin flashed across his face as elegant hazel eyes met hers. “No. His mother wouldn’t approve.”

She blushed and looked away, fighting an emotion she was afraid to name. It was time to go. She had a big assignment tomorrow that had her really unnerved, and they were both too emotionally vulnerable to do this right now. “I need to get back to my apartment. Make sure Jack gets the message, okay?” She headed to the door, but Myles stood and followed her quickly.

“Tara, wait.”

She knew how much it cost him to pursue it, and that thought frightened her even more. What did it mean, if he cared enough to push this far? “Myles, can’t we just let it stand for now?”

A red flush of irritation spread across his cheeks. Instantly he reverted to the defensive, sarcastic persona that was his protective shell. “Is that what we’re doing? How odd; I thought one of us was standing while the other ran away.”

She flinched from the anger and the truth in that statement. As much as she wanted to reach out to him, fear kept her paralyzed. “I’m sorry. Just don’t, please.”

His face was filled with pain and frustration. “I never figured you for a coward.”

That got to her, breaking through her fear to ignite anger of her own. This was the Myles Leland she really didn’t like: the haughty, cold stranger who wore his arrogance as a shield and used words as his weapons. She said furiously, “Maybe it’s not so much cowardice as lack of interest.” She regretted it as soon as she had said it, but she couldn’t bring herself to apologize. Of course it wasn’t true, but he had pushed too hard. Ignoring the hurt she saw on his face and the answering sorrow in her own heart, she turned and walked away.

Hudson Residence
Washington, D.C.
May 3
11:00 p.m.

“I can’t believe I just ate dinner this late at night,” Sue said when she had finished the last of her food. “Pizza at eleven: my stomach will never forgive me.” The team had been working around the clock, stopping to eat and sleep only when absolutely necessary. After another frustrating day with no leads, Jack had ordered everyone to take a break so they could come back refreshed the next morning. This impromptu “date” was the first time she and Jack had been together since the Winfield case began. She was glad to be alone with him, but now she looked at the takeout box and groaned. “These calories will go straight to my hips while I’m sleeping tonight.”

Jack laughed and cast an appreciative glance at her figure. “I’m too tired to respond to that without getting myself into trouble, but I’ll risk it anyway.” He captured her chin with his hand and looked into her eyes. “You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. Your figure…today, tomorrow, and always…is my definition of a beautiful, perfect figure.” He looked at her with no small amount of trepidation in his eyes, ready to duck if necessary. “How’d I do?”

She smiled and reached out to wipe tomato sauce from his chin with her thumb. “Not bad. I’m going to hold you to that when I get old and fat.”

He wrapped his arms around her, his face serious. “I’ll be there every morning when you wake up, and I’ll love you as much then as I do at this moment.”

She wondered if she would ever get used to how wonderful it was to be loved by him. She hoped not. When he moved to kiss her, however, she stopped him with a firm hand. “And I’m too tired to behave myself right now. You and this couch are a dangerous combination.” She grinned at his wounded expression and stood up, gathering leftovers from their dinner to take to the kitchen.

He followed her, carrying their plates and napkins. When they had finished cleaning up, he pulled her into his arms again. “Sue?” The look on his face was pure, angelic mischief.

“Yes, Jack?” she asked suspiciously.

He looked around at his brightly-lit kitchen. “We’re not on the couch anymore.”

Her face reflected mock outrage. “Jack Hudson, you’re nothing but trouble!” Then she smiled. “You’re also right.” Eyes laughing, she kissed him.

He returned the kiss, holding her in the gentle circle of his arms. It felt so good to be with her like this, to know that he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He loved her so much…

Suddenly Levi jumped between them, pushing them apart. “Levi!” Sue said.

“Is he on chaperone duty tonight?” Jack asked. Then he heard what Levi had been trying to tell them: someone was knocking on the door. He blushed and looked at Sue apologetically. “There’s someone at the door; I guess I didn’t notice it.”

She grinned. “Maybe you were distracted,” she teased as they both returned to the living room.

“Maybe,” Jack agreed as he opened the door. He stared in surprise at the man who stood outside. “Myles?”

“Jack, Sue…I apologize for interrupting your evening.” Myles stepped into the room. “Tara came by the office tonight to get a program she needed. She asked me to pass on some information to you.” Myles relayed the story that Tara had told him.

“Well, it’s definitely interesting,” Jack said slowly, “Okay, I’ll get on it in the morning. Thanks, Myles.”

Sue had been watching the blond agent closely, noticing the lines of fatigue and sorrow on his face. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you something to drink and some pizza.”

The blond man shook his head. “Thank you, but I need to go home. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” He let himself out.

Sue and Jack looked at each other after Myles was gone. “Something’s bothering him,” Sue said.

Jack nodded, his eyes troubled. “I know.”

She wasn’t sure how to broach this subject, but she had wondered about it. “Myles and Tara–”

Jack held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t. What I don’t know about, I’m not officially responsible for.”

She nodded in understanding. “Okay.”

Almost as if he hadn’t heard her, Jack continued. “I’ve noticed a few things, of course…heard rumors. What I can’t understand is why they didn’t talk to me about it. I would have tried to help.” He gave her an intimate smile, the kind that always brought her into their private little corner of the universe. “Of all the people at the Bureau, I’m certainly in a position to understand about falling in love with a coworker.”

Sue returned his smile and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Maybe they just needed some time.”

“Well, time is running out,” Jack said. “If they don’t approach me about this after their respective cases are over, I’ll have to bring it up myself.”

“They won’t be able to use the same option we did, will they?” Sue asked.

Jack shook his head. “No. They’re both agents; the rules are very clear-cut in that situation.”

Because Sue wasn’t an agent, she and Jack had been able to remain on the same team when they began dating, albeit with a few modifications to the team dynamic. Sue’s training agent was now Dimitrius, and she was no longer paired with Jack during fieldwork. The team had adjusted, but there had been complications at first. She couldn’t imagine how hard this was going to be for Tara and Myles, as well as the rest of the group.

Seeing her troubled expression, Jack pulled her into his arms again, leaning back enough that she could see his face. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Whatever happens is in God’s hands. He’s in charge, remember?”

She nodded, smiling. “Today, tomorrow, and always.”

“And always,” he echoed softly, thinking of a platinum engagement ring tucked away in his bedroom closet. He kissed her one last time and then held her in a tight embrace, loving the comfort and peace that he always found in her presence. Finally he moved away. “As much as I have enjoyed this evening, we both need to get some sleep.”

“I know,” Sue replied. “I’d better go home. Come on, Levi.”

“Be careful driving,” he instructed seriously.

“I will, Dad,” she teased him and then smiled as he tickled her. She was still smiling as they walked out to her car. “Goodnight, Jack. I love you.” She quickly pressed her lips against his cheek.

He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling evoked by both her action and her words. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that. I love you, too.” Jack watched as she drove away and then returned to his apartment. He stood at the window for a long time and thought of rings, weddings, and yes…a honeymoon. Smiling to himself, he went to get ready for bed.

Tara Jackson’s Apartment
Fairfax, VA
May 3
11:30 p.m.

Tara despised women who were always crying over a man, and she swore to herself that she wasn’t going to shed even one tear over Myles Leland III. She made it all the way back to her apartment with dry eyes, sailed into the bathroom and got ready for bed with perfect composure, and was congratulating herself on her common sense when she saw the green sweatshirt folded neatly on her pillow. Instantly she burst into tears, falling onto the bed and burying her face in the sweater as she sobbed.

After several embarrassingly melodramatic minutes, she sat up and dried her cheeks. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Well, at least I got that out of my system,” she said to nobody in particular. She went back into the bathroom to wash up and then stood looking at her reflection in the mirror. I’ll have to face this before I can sleep tonight. With a sigh, she moved into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk. Walking into the living room, she curled up on the couch and thought about that last afternoon with Myles. No, I need to go further back than that. It really started with Lucy…


Tara Williams’ Apartment
Washington, D.C.
April 16
6:00 p.m.

As soon as Myles left, Tara headed to her bedroom. She wasn’t fast enough. “What are you doing?” Lucy’s voice was razor-sharp with accusation.

Tara knew it wouldn’t work, but she tried anyway. “I’m going to get dressed so that we can leave for the movies.”

Lucy’s eyes flashed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Tell me I didn’t just walk in on what I think I did.”

“We were playing Nintendo,” Tara hedged.

“Oh please!” Lucy was angrier than Tara had ever seen her. “I dated the man; do you really think I don’t know what he looks like after he’s been kissed?”

Tara flinched. “Lucy…”

The other woman held up her hand. “You two have been acting funny for months. Remember New Year’s? And what about that diamond necklace you wore to work on Valentine’s Day, the one you wouldn’t explain?”

Tara closed her eyes. She had given Myles a key when he first began staying over, but he hadn’t used it until February thirteenth. She had come home from the grocery store to find a small jeweler’s box decorated with a red bow sitting on her coffee table. Inside the box had been a gorgeous diamond drop necklace that had stolen her breath with its simplicity. The enclosed card had read It didn’t come from a vending machine; I promise. She had worn it to work the next day to let him know how much she loved it, and her only answer when asked had been that it was a gift from a dear friend. She could see on his face how much it pleased him, but the others had teased her about it so much that she never wore it to work again.

“Tara? Tara!” Lucy had her arms crossed, fury emanating from her slender frame. “How could you do this? Don’t you remember what he did to me?” At Tara’s helpless nod, Lucy continued. “He’ll do the same thing to you; he’s a jerk–”

“Don’t.” Tara’s voice was low and intense. “I know he hurt you, and I’m sorry. But he’s changed.”

Lucy snorted. “I suppose you think you’ve changed him?” she asked sarcastically.

“Not me,” Tara said. “Our team, his sister…life. He’s different, Luce. If you’d look at him, really look for once, you’d see that.”

“All I see is that my friend is being really stupid, and she’s going to get hurt,” Lucy retorted.

“Then I’ll get hurt!” Tara threw her arms up in exasperation. “I’m a big girl; I’ll handle it.” She turned away and went to look out of the window.

After a few moments Lucy came to stand beside her. “So that’s it, then? You’ve decided? What about work?”

Tara opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft. “I don’t know that I’ve decided anything, except that I can’t keep on like this. I’ll talk to him, but…” a thread of steel entered her tone, “I will do it because I want to and when I choose.” She gave Lucy a pointed glance.

Lucy held her gaze for a moment and then looked away. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Tara said. “I understand. Just…whatever I decide, don’t hate me?”

A reluctant smile spread across Lucy’s face. “Now, you know I could never hate you. But if he does anything–”

“Lucy,” Tara said firmly.

“Right.” Lucy took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Are we okay?” Tara asked.

The other woman looked at her and smiled faintly. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

Tara felt the atmosphere around them relax just a little. “Okay. Then why are we still here? Don’t we have a movie to see?”

They went to the movie and parted that night on good terms, but the conversation stayed with Tara the rest of the week. She argued with herself, thinking about the situation from every possible angle. The following Saturday she drove to Myles’ house. He didn’t know she was coming, and she wasn’t sure that she was ready for this. It didn’t matter, though; it was time they quit fooling themselves.

Leland Residence
Washington, D.C.
May 4
1:00 a.m.

Anne had gone upstairs by the time he came home, but she had left him a note in her elegant script: I don’t know if you’ll make it home tonight, but I saved some dinner for you. Wake me if you need to talk. He shook his head, amazed at how far he and his sister had come. Bypassing the kitchen and anything resembling actual nourishment, he instead walked into the library and poured himself a brandy. He pressed a few buttons on the sound system, and Puccini’s E lucevan le stelle filled the room.

Instantly he was transported to a darkened opera house, to an evening spent with a woman who had always been a friend but had somehow become much more. Lowering the volume so as not to disturb his sister, Myles sank into the plush chair behind his desk. He was physically and emotionally exhausted; at this point, the walk upstairs to the master bedroom seemed too much for him. Closing his eyes, he listened as Cavaradossi explained that his dream of love was gone forever…

He thought of Tara’s final words to him earlier that evening. Lack of interest. He wanted to believe that she hadn’t meant it, that she had just been angry, but he couldn’t quite shake his doubt. That small voice that was forever in the back of his mind, the one that sounded like his father, whispered that he wasn’t good enough…that he would never be good enough for her. He thought also of the Bureau, which was still very much J. Edgar’s exclusive little kingdom where men made the rules and women were held to a different standard. He couldn’t ask that of her.

Taking a sip of the brandy, he let the music fill his soul as he admitted how much he had wanted this to work. He was haunted by opera and laughter, by cool sheets and lazy afternoon sunbeams drifting across her skin. To have come so close, so close to perfection, only to lose it…


Leland Residence
Washington, D.C.
April 23
2:00 p.m.

His hand was warm on her back as he escorted her to the library. When he sat beside her on the couch and took her hand, she let out a soft chuckle. “Brings back memories of those nights at my place, after the dreams,” she explained in answer to his curious glance.

He smiled faintly and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “It worked for us then.”

“True.” She had learned that talking was easier if she didn’t look at him. As she had on all those nights, she focused her gaze on their joined hands. “Lucy had a lot to say after you left last week. It was…she was worried about me.”

“I would never hurt you,” he said softly.”

It had to be said. “You hurt her, badly.”

Immediately he tensed. She stroked his hand with her thumb, trying to reassure him, wanting him to know that she was listening. Finally he sighed. “I know. My actions were inexcusable; I’m ashamed of how I behaved.”

“Have you told her that?” Tara asked.

His voice reflected his discomfort. “I attempted to apologize; she said she accepted.”

“Maybe you should try again,” she prompted gently.

She could feel him flinch, but he answered readily enough. “I will. I’ll talk to her.” He took a deep breath. “Tara…I’m not like that anymore.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I know.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and then he asked, “So, Lucy knows about us?”

She didn’t pretend not to understand. “Yes. I think she’s wondered about it for awhile; I think they all have.”

He closed his eyes and thought of what would be best for her, thought of her job and her reputation. “We need to end this before any more damage is done.”

His words tore at her heart, but she thought of what was best for him as she looked at the portrait of his parents hanging above the fireplace. “Yes. We should stop now.”

He reached out to cup her chin in his hand, turning her face so that he could look into her eyes. A single tear ran down her cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb. She shivered at his touch, admitting to herself how desperately she wanted to stay in his arms. “Myles,” she whispered. Please don’t make me leave without feeling this way one more time.

He heard her unspoken plea and captured her mouth with his own. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, trying to memorize every touch, every sensation. He ended the kiss and buried his face in her hair, his breathing ragged, harsh. I don’t want to forget you.

It might have ended there; they might have walked away from it forever. But they kissed again, and it was every Saturday afternoon, every conversation, every moment of stolen time they had ever shared. The world stood still for just a little while as he carried her upstairs to his room, where the sunlight waited on the bed.

Howard Industries
Fairfax, VA
May 4
6:00 a.m.

Tara had decided that security teams were all the same, no matter how professional the agency or company that employed them. There was always that one guy, the one who thought his badge and gun made him irresistibly attractive to women. The team at Howard Industries was no exception; they had Todd.

In his late twenties, with dirty blond hair and professionally whitened teeth, Todd made it clear that he considered himself God’s gift to women. He flirted with Tara every time she had to check in at his station, and it irritated her beyond all reason. Today, however, she deliberately chose to approach him, an inviting smile plastered on her face.

Good undercover work depended on luck even more than technology or skill; more often than not, success came because someone forgot to pay attention for one crucial second. The ringing telephone, a disturbance down the hall…that one moment of distraction was all that was needed to bypass the enemy’s defenses. So Tara sauntered to Todd’s bench, gave a little toss of her hair, and “distracted” for all she was worth.

He flashed her a grin that was so practiced it was painful. “Hey, beautiful computer lady. I bet you get lonely surrounded by all that cold, boring equipment. When are you going to let me take you out on a date and warm you up?”

Never, in this lifetime or any other. And my computers are not boring. She smiled sweetly as she carefully placed the briefcase with its precious cargo on the conveyor belt. “I don’t know; what did you have in mind?”

“Hmm,” he pondered for a moment, probably using his one brain cell on the activity. His eyes barely flickered to the monitor as the bag moved through the system. Suddenly, a look of triumph spread across his face. “Hey, why don’t you come with me to the shooting range sometime? I’ll let you hold my gun, maybe even teach you to shoot.”

“Wow! That would be really neat; I’ve never used a gun before.” If ever there was an Oscar-worthy performance, this had to be it.

The briefcase passed harmlessly through the x-ray machine. Tara submitted to the retina check and a very thorough personal scan from the overblown rent-a-cop. When he finished, Todd tapped the metal wand against her lower back and leaned over to murmur in her ear. “You’re all clear, sugar. Let me know about that shooting range thing; I’ll set something up.”

“Thanks; I’ll think about it.” As Tara headed off to her desk, she thought that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to take him up on his offer. I wonder how hard it would be to shoot him and make it look like an accident?

Howard Industries had strict rules about working hours; employees were only allowed access to the building from six in the morning to seven at night. Exceptions were made for security and lab personnel, but not for computer support. Tara had decided to run the program first thing in the morning; there seemed to be fewer people around then.

Stepping into her cubicle, she put the briefcase on the floor in the location most likely to avoid scrutiny from the cameras. She opened a drawer and found a few CDs to place on top of her desk. Reaching into the briefcase, she removed a file folder and the program disk she needed and placed them on top of the CDs from her desk, with the file folder facing up. She spent a few minutes turning on her computer and preparing for the day, making every effort to look completely natural. Finally she reached under the folder, grabbed a CD, and inserted it into the computer. Had anyone been watching, they would have assumed she was using one of the disks she had removed from her desk.

There was no guarantee that her program could crack the code, if in fact a code existed. This kind of cryptic message, where clusters of symbols were assigned to a particular value, could be surprisingly hard to decipher. The BioNet database used only five characters: the four DNA bases and one extra letter for unrecognizable parts of the sequence. Tara had decided the code would have to use a combination of at least three characters to represent a single value. Five possible characters, grouped in sets of three and allowing for individual letter repeats, would provide one hundred twenty-five placeholders that could be used as letters, numbers, or punctuation. After some initial input from her, the program she had written would scrutinize the messages in question and try every possible assignment of those characters. It would then compare the results against an internal English language database and return a percentage of recognized words.

If nothing was found using three character combinations, she would have to try again with a higher number. She also had the option of assigning different number combinations to different values, where the letter ‘A’ might be defined by three symbols and ‘B’ by two. There were a lot of problems with this approach, not the least of which was that it took time. Still, it was her best chance for now. She did what she could on the computer to hide her activity and then began running the program.

It found it on the first try, which honestly surprised her. She really had thought the code would be a bit more difficult than that. Why go to all the trouble to set this up, and then be sloppy with your messaging system? Oh well, I guess that’s what happens when you let scientists use computers. Amused and just a little disappointed that it hadn’t been harder to figure out, she smiled and opened the first translated message. The smile disappeared before she finished reading the first sentence. By the end of the message, amusement had given way to shock…and overwhelming anger.

“You’re sure in early today. Did you hear the news?”

Tara had been so engrossed in the decoded message in front of her that she hadn’t noticed her coworker arrive. Luckily, the other woman was standing in a position that made it impossible for her to see the computer screen. Quickly Tara closed the program. “Hi, Tina. What news?”

The brunette’s pretty face was filled with excitement. “They found him. They found Jeffrey Winfield.”

Tara gripped the arm of her chair as she felt the room sway around her. “Where? Is he okay?”

“He’s at Reston Hospital Center; he was apparently unconscious when he was brought in. That’s all I know.”

Reston…where Sue had been. She struggled to pull her thoughts together and concentrated on staying in character. “Oh, the poor little boy. I feel so bad for the President and his family!” Myles, are you with him? Are you okay? I wish I could be there for you…

“This whole thing is just awful,” Tina agreed. “I’m going to go turn on the TV in the break room; maybe they’ll have more news. Are you coming?”

Tara glanced at her computer, thinking of what she needed to do. “Yes, I’ll be right there.” She waited until the other woman had left and then quickly copied all of the translated messages to a blank diskette. She cleaned her computer as thoroughly as she could and hid the program disk as well as the messages in her briefcase.

It was risky, but she had to get this information to the Bureau. She wanted to go now, but caution dictated that she act casual. She would have to leave work on her lunch break and try to contact Maclay. What in the world is going on? She pictured the message she had read, pictured that one word on the third line that had shocked her to her very core: Winfield.

Reston Hospital Center
Reston, VA
May 4
1:00 p.m.

I could have gone the rest of my life without ever seeing the inside of this building again. Jack Hudson sat in a waiting room oppressively similar to the one he had been in last September, on the night when his world had almost ended. He thought of a killer’s knife, a river of blood, and a still form lying on a white bed. Without conscious thought, his fingers tightened almost painfully around the hand that rested in his.

The owner of that hand glanced at him, concern etched on her pretty features. “Jack?”

“I almost lost you that night,” he whispered hoarsely. “I waited, like this, and it was dark…too dark. You were gone from me, gone someplace…and I couldn’t follow.”

Sue reached out to touch his face with her free hand. “I came back.”

His tortured eyes met hers. “If I had lost you…”

“You didn’t lose me; I’m right here.” Sue leaned over to give him a quick kiss, which surprised Jack enough to shake away some of his anxiety. She never did anything like that while they were working.

He smiled at her. Yes, you’re here. I thank God every day for it.

He supposed that their presence at the hospital would technically be classified as unofficial. There were more than enough emergency and law enforcement personnel already present, not to mention the members of the media lined up outside. Alex Stafford had asked some of the teams to stand down so that the hospital wouldn’t be overwhelmed.

Jack and Sue were here to support Myles. Until better security precautions could be arranged, President and Mrs. Winfield were forced to stay away from their son. At Zachary Winfield’s request, Myles was sitting with Jeffrey so that the boy would see a familiar face when…if…he woke up. Jack couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be unable to visit your only son in the hospital.

Sue spoke, her words echoing Jack’s thoughts. “I feel so sorry for the President and his wife. It must be so hard for them, not knowing about Madison and not being able to be here with Jeffrey.”

“Yes,” Jack agreed. “They don’t have a choice, though. For all we know, the kidnapper left Jeff here for the sole purpose of luring the President out into the open. The moment Zachary Winfield steps foot in this hospital, every person in the building is placed in danger.”

“Especially considering the note they found with Jeff.”

Jack nodded, closing his eyes as he pictured the note that had been found pinned to Jeffrey Winfield’s shirt:

He’s been infected with the inhalation form of anthrax; he’s been on Ciprofloxacin therapy, 10 mg twice a day for two days. The next case will be antibiotic-resistant. May 6th.

“Jeff must be pretty sick, to be unconscious,” Sue worried.

“He’s not unconscious because of the anthrax; he was drugged,” Myles said tiredly from the doorway.

Jack opened his eyes. “With what?”

“Versed. It’s a sedative,” Myles explained. He walked over to sit by them and repeated for Sue’s benefit, “Jeff was drugged; the kidnapper probably did it to keep him quiet.”

“That’s terrible!” Sue said. “Will he be okay?”

“There’s no damage from the sedative, but the anthrax is another story,” Myles replied.

“So it is anthrax,” Jack said quietly.

Myles nodded, concern evident in his eyes. “That’s what the preliminary test results indicate. They’ve started him on antibiotic therapy; we won’t know for awhile if he’s going to respond.”

“If the kidnapper does have another strain of the bacteria, one that’s antibiotic-resistant, how can it be stopped?” Sue asked.

Myles started to answer, but the sight of a young man standing nervously in the waiting room doorway distracted him. Eyes narrowing, Myles rose to his feet. “Maclay? What’s wrong? Is Tara alright?” He advanced on the hapless agent, tension building with every step. “If you’ve let something happen to her, I promise you there is no pit deep enough–”

“She’s fine; I swear!” the flustered man squawked. He cast a pitiful glance around Myles to the dark-haired agent sitting behind him. “Agent Hudson, Tara asked me to come see you. Could we speak in a secure room?”

Jack raised his brows, but took pity on the obviously nervous younger man. “Down the hall.” The group walked to the small office that Stafford had set up as a command center. If Maclay was uncomfortable that Myles stalked along beside him, he had enough sense not to say anything.

Stafford was the only person in the command center. “Alex, could we borrow the room for a moment?” Jack asked.

“Actually, Agent Stafford, you should stay as well.” Maclay was still a little nervous, but he was also determined.

“Okay.” Stafford looked questioningly at Jack; the other man just shrugged.

Maclay faced the group. “Agent Williams contacted me during her lunch break today. She believes that someone inside Howard Industries is involved in the Winfield kidnapping case.”

“She found something? Was it in one of the messages?” Jack asked.

“Yes, sir. She didn’t have a lot of time to explain, but she gave me these disks and a note for you.” Maclay handed the items to Jack.

“Williams is one of yours?” Stafford asked.

Jack nodded. “She’s been working undercover at a genetics lab.” He quickly explained the scenario.

Alex’s face was grim by the time Jack finished speaking. “So there’s a lot of money missing, a new strain of anthrax has apparently been developed, and some sick genius at a biotech lab might be involved. I don’t like what I’m thinking.” He turned to face Maclay. “Where’s Agent Williams now?”

Maclay cast an uncomfortable glance in Myles’s direction. “She didn’t want to blow her cover, so she went back to work.”

“And you let her go?” Myles’ voice rose with each word. He looked ready to tear the younger man apart with his bare hands

“He did the right thing, and so did she,” Jack said firmly, giving Myles a look of warning. “Tara’s our only way into Howard Industries right now, and she knows it. When will you be hearing from her again?” he asked Maclay.

“She said that she would come to the Hoover building at five tonight.”

“Okay, we’ll arrange a meeting,” Stafford said. “Jack, we’ll keep it to just your team for now. This might be the break we’ve been waiting for; I want to be extremely cautious with this information.”

“Agreed,” Jack said. He eyed the young agent who stood across from him. “Agent Maclay, I want you to be there, as well. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still Tara’s contact on this case.” Jack studiously ignored the look Myles gave him, and Sue tried not to smile.

For all his inexperience, Patrick Maclay had been well trained; he didn’t appear to react at all. Only his eyes indicated his pleasure at being included. “I’ll be there. Thank you, sir.”

Jack nodded. “Okay, let’s start calling the team. We have a lot of work to do before five o’clock tonight.”

Hoover Building
Washington, D.C.
May 4
4:45 p.m.

Sue smiled to herself as she watched Myles cast yet another disparaging glance at the young Agent Maclay. Arrangements having finally been made for the Winfields to visit their son, Myles had returned to the office about an hour ago. Since his arrival, he had continued to stalk around like a wounded bear, talking to himself and stopping periodically at his desk to scribble ideas on a notepad. Sue was trying very hard not to eavesdrop on his ‘monologue’, but she thought she had seen something about kindergarten and lemonade breaks.

His unexpected behavior at the hospital and now here in the Bullpen had pretty much confirmed what she suspected. Just then Tara entered the room, and the look on the Myles’ face left absolutely no doubt as to his feelings. For her part, Tara was looking at Myles as if nobody else in the room existed. Sue felt her breath catch in her chest. They were gazing at each other with such…longing.

Sue noticed that Jack was also watching the couple, and his eyes were troubled. Finally he said, “Tara, I’m glad you’re here. Why don’t you get started by briefing us about the scene at Howard Industries?”

Both Tara and Myles seemed startled at the sound of Jack’s voice. Tara recovered first, moving to her desk and grabbing a notebook. Quickly she told them about the company and her activities there. She blushed as she described how she had distracted a security guard in order to sneak in her computer program, but her voice was completely professional. Sue couldn’t help noticing that Myles’ jaw tightened as he listened.

“Good work,” Jack said. “I hate to say it, but this guard, Todd, might be useful to us. Keep in contact with him, but be careful. Okay, what about the messages Tara decoded for us?”

D answered, “Twelve of them in all, letters between the kidnapper and an unidentified member of the Liberators, possibly the leader. From what we can gather, the two parties had already met before they started using the BioNet system to communicate.”

“Makes sense,” Jack noted. “Our kidnapper had to set up the account and teach the other man how to use it.”

“What about the Dallas company listed on the system?” Sue asked.

Bobby shook his head. “Bogus…doesn’t exist. Our guy set up a blind account specifically for this purpose.”

D continued. “All of the messages Tara gave us discuss payment and arrangements for the day the Winfield children were abducted.”

“Tara, the BioNet system is used by scientists all over the world, right? Are we sure the kidnapper works at Howard Industries?” Jack asked.

Tara thought about it for a moment. “I would think so. BioNet is available to many labs, but Howard manages it. All new accounts have to be approved through the company.”

Stafford looked at her. “So, who do you think it is? Any idea?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Virginia Howard, the owner and CEO. I interviewed with her during the hiring process.”

Myles frowned. “It’s unusual that she went out of her way to interview you. You weren’t applying for a management position, and Howard is a large enough company that the CEO wouldn’t normally be involved at your level.”

Tara didn’t look at him, choosing instead to focus on Alex Stafford. “That’s the way Dr. Howard is; she believes in keeping a close watch on her employees. I just can’t believe that anything like this could happen inside the company without her knowledge.”

“What’s she like?” Sue wanted to know.

“Brilliant…attractive…ruthless. Capable of anything.” Tara gave a little shiver. “She makes me nervous.”

“With the missing government funding, she had the money to hire the Liberators and bribe Devon Billings,” Jack said.

“He did it for money?” Tara asked, disgust evident on her face.

Myles nodded. “We found a bank account with a recent deposit of a million dollars. We’re assuming that was a down payment.”

The price of a child.

“What about the antibiotic resistant anthrax?” Sue asked. She turned to Tara. “Did you hear about that?”

Tara nodded. Someone from the hospital had leaked information about the note to the press. “Lucky for us, I currently work at one of the premier genetics labs in the nation. I had lots of teachers willing to explain it to me today.” She rose and walked to the white board. Picking up a marker, she drew an oblong shape. “Say this is an anthrax bacterium; the actual name is Bacillus anthracis.” She wrote the name on the board and underlined it.

“When a bacterium reproduces, it grows longer and its cell wall meets in the middle to separate the cell into two new daughter organisms. It uses an enzyme called transpeptidase to do this.” Tara drew a picture of a dividing cell and wrote the name of the enzyme underneath it. “Penicillin inactivates this enzyme, and the cell can’t reproduce.”

“So, what happens with penicillin-resistant bacteria?” Lucy asked.

“The cell learns how to make an enzyme called beta-lactamase that can break down penicillin,” Tara replied.

“A cell can do that?” D asked.

Tara nodded. “Mutations like that happen naturally all the time; genetic manipulation just makes it easier.”

Bobby groaned and rubbed his brow. “You’re making my head hurt, Sheila.”

Tara smiled. “Sorry. I won’t explain doxycycline-resistance, then.”

“Thank you,” the Aussie said fervently.

“God forbid that he should make any attempt at enlightenment,” Myles quipped.

For just a second, Tara’s eyes twinkled at the blond agent. Then she seemed to catch herself; she looked away before she spoke again. “Doxycycline and ciprofloxacin can also be used against anthrax, and bacteria are less-likely to develop resistance to them. Still, theoretically it could happen…naturally or in the lab.

“So if the anthrax won’t respond to antibiotics, how can it be stopped?”

“There’s been some success with a drug containing a protein called PlyG lysin. The protein was originally part of a virus; once the virus had entered the host bacterium, PlyG lysin would basically burst the cell open from the inside,” Tara said.

“So to cure someone from anthrax, you would have to give them a virus?” Sue asked, confused.

“It’s not part of the virus anymore; it was extracted and manufactured into a drug specifically designed to kill powerful strains of bacteria,” Tara explained. “The problem is that it’s not on the market yet; it’s still finishing up clinical trials.”

“So if the regular antibiotics won’t work, patients are going to have to take a drug that hasn’t finished being tested yet,” Lucy said soberly.

Tara nodded. “And there’s not a lot of it available; it isn’t scheduled to go to production until after the trials.”

“Isn’t there a vaccine?’ Sue asked.

“There is, but it’s currently being used only for military personnel and other people who work in high risk environments,” Jack said. “It’s not designed for children. Besides, the vaccination process can take up to eighteen months to complete.”

“And we only have until Friday,” Bobby said.

Jack sighed and shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense. Obviously Dr. Howard would have the expertise to do something like this, but why would she? And why would she use the BioNet system to talk with the Liberators when she knew how risky it was?”

“For that matter, why would anyone inside Howard use BioNet for this?” Tara said. “When I first had the idea that someone was using the DNA database to talk to someone outside the company, I thought of espionage. I wasn’t even sure if the misappropriated funds were part of the picture yet; I just thought someone was trying to sneak research data out without getting caught. There’s absolutely no reason to use BioNet for this, when so many other options are available that would work much better.”

“Let’s assume for a moment that the kidnapper is Virginia Howard,” Jack said. “She didn’t have to leave a lock of Madison’s hair behind at the McKenna warehouse. She could have walked out with the children, leaving us absolutely no evidence to suggest that Madison and Jeff had ever been near that location. The same thing goes for these letters. She could have chosen a more discreet way to communicate with the Liberators, but she didn’t.”

“She didn’t even use good code,” Tara said. “It was incredibly easy to break.”

“And look at some of these messages. She actually mentions the Winfields by name in one of them.” Sue added. “Plus, she pinned that note to Jeffrey Winfield’s shirt, telling us about the anthrax and giving us a date when something is supposed to happen.”

Jack pointed at her. “Exactly. So she’s either been very sloppy…”

Tara shook her head firmly. “Virginia Howard has never been sloppy a moment in her life.”

“…Or she’s doing it on purpose,” Myles finished.

“Rubbing our noses in it.” Bobby said. “Trying to get our attention. Look at the way Jeff was discovered.”

“How did that happen, anyway?” Tara asked. “The news reports were sketchy about it.”

“Someone placed an emergency phone call from a pay phone, saying there had been a car accident,” Sue replied. “When the ambulance got there, they found Jeff wrapped up in a blanket and propped up against the phone booth.”

“In the middle of the night? While he was sick?” Tara was furious.

“She’s trying to show off what she can do,” Jack said. “And she’s not afraid to take risks, either. Think about it: she didn’t kill off all of the members of the Liberators, only a few of the leaders. You can bet that the rest of the group would just love to track her down. The instant she set off that gas, she made herself a target of one of the most powerful domestic terrorist groups in recent history.”

“She’s playing as if she has nothing to lose,” Myles finished softly.

They sat in silence for several moments. “Of course, we’re just assuming that Dr. Howard is our kidnapper. We need to search that company.” Jack turned to face Tara, afraid of what he had to ask. “Tara?”

“I’ll do it,” she responded promptly. “It would be too hard to get anyone else past the guards.”

“You realize that we will only be able to provide rudimentary support?” Stafford asked. “We can’t show our hand until and unless we know that Madison Winfield is safe and the anthrax is accounted for.”

Tara swallowed, her mouth suddenly very dry. Carefully avoiding Myles’ anguished eyes, she nodded. “I understand.”

“We’ll do as much as we can,” Jack promised her. He turned to face the group, tension etched on his features. “Give me a plan, people…and make it good.”

Howard Industries
Fairfax, VA
May 5
6:30 p.m.

Tara looked at the clock; it was time. Quickly her fingers flew over her keyboard as she hacked into the company’s security camera system. It only took her a few minutes, but that was because she was prepared. Before starting work here, she had learned as much as she could about the corporation: who managed security, what programs were used, what the layout of the building was, what kind of research was done here. Now she used that knowledge to her advantage as she easily broke into the system. She captured feed from the camera near her desk and set it to run in a continuous loop; Tara Jackson would remain safely seated at her desk while Tara Williams searched Virginia Howard’s lab and office.

After looping a few other important cameras, she hooked up the system to a streaming feed that the guys outside in the van would be able to access. They wouldn’t be able to see her, because she would be in the part of the building where the cameras had been altered, but they could at least warn her if they saw anything…or anyone…else. Reaching into her briefcase, she removed two electronic gadgets from the secret pouch. She placed one in her ear; it was so small that it was almost unnoticeable. The other was a listening device; she tucked it in her pocket. Now she would be able to hear from her backup team, and they could listen in on what was happening around her. Not that she planned on speaking much; it was too easy to get caught that way.

The speaker in her ear crackled. The device took some getting used to; she’d had to train herself not to jump when someone spoke over it. Jack was talking to her now: Tara, are you ready? She reached into her pocket and tapped the microphone twice, for “Yes”.

This was the nature of undercover work; it wasn’t an exact science. She didn’t kid herself about the risks involved. The measures she had taken weren’t foolproof; security would see through them if they looked hard enough. Anyway, at some point they were going to notice that she was working after hours and come to escort her outside. She also understood that she couldn’t count on the backup team for much. Finding Madison Winfield and the anthrax counted more than the life of one FBI agent, and she knew it. For all intents and purposes she was about to blow her cover, and she was completely on her own.

So stop wasting time. She grabbed a blank CD from her desk and removed two more items from her briefcase. Reaching Dr. Howard’s lab, she hooked up one of the devices she had brought. The company used electronic keypads to secure access into its laboratories and offices; the decoder she was carrying opened the door in a matter of seconds. She used the other device she had brought with her, a small penlight, to check everything that she could in the lab, searching through filing cabinets and refrigerators and…yuck…a very creepy incubator filled with Petri dishes.

She didn’t find anything, but somehow she hadn’t really thought Dr. Howard would leave the anthrax lying around in a dish, neatly labeled for better detection. Jack spoke in her ear again, telling her that things looked calm. She checked her watch; it was time to move on to the CEO’s office down the hall. Interestingly enough, Virginia Howard's office was located in the basement; she liked being close to her research. Crossing through the outer chamber that belonged to Howard’s executive assistant, Tara entered the darkened office.

She repeated her search process here, thankful that there were no Petri dishes this time. After checking the desk and filing cabinets, she turned on the computer and began looking for anything interesting. Using the blank CD, she made a copy of everything in Howard’s personal files. Even as she did it, she knew there was nothing important. It was unbelievably frustrating; she wouldn’t get another chance at this. The plan had been to move on to the other labs if she didn’t find anything in Howard’s rooms, but Tara hesitated. She knew something was here; she could feel it around her.

Suddenly Jack spoke to her again, his voice laced with anxiety. “Tara, the security guard’s heading straight to your office; you have to get back to your desk now.”

Tara tapped her finger once against the device in her pocket: “No.” Give me just a little more time; I’ll find it. She looked around the room, her eyes narrowed. What was it? What was she trying to see?

Jack’s voice was urgent now. “Tara, you have just over a minute to get back to your desk and shut everything down. Move.”

She fled, running silently down the hall and racing up the stairwell to her office on the first floor. She sat at her computer and frantically typed the commands that would reset the video system and purge her activities from the computer. She had just pressed the final key when she heard a gruff voice behind her.

“What are you doing here?”

Surveillance Van
Outside Howard Industries
Fairfax, VA
May 5
7:30 p.m.

What are you doing here?

Myles’ hand clenched on his thigh as he listened to the feedback from Tara’s wire. The guard was with her. He was in there with her, and Myles couldn’t see what was happening. Tara had already shut down the video feed; all that was left was the audio.

Her soft laughter echoed in his headset. Todd. You startled me.

Myles and Jack looked at each other. Jack turned off the microphone before he spoke; Tara didn’t need the distraction. “It’s Todd…she might be okay, if she plays it right.”

Myles nodded stiffly. He closed his eyes, focusing all of his attention on what was happening inside the building, listening for trouble.

You can’t be in here; it’s past working hours. Todd’s voice was full of self-importance. Myles instantly decided he didn’t like the security guard.

Tara feigned surprise. Is it? I was trying to finish a batch and completely lost track of the time.

Normally this would be reported, you know. Todd’s voice grew louder, as if he had moved closer to her. It’s just lucky for you that I’m working the late shift tonight. I could be persuaded to change my mind.

Myles’ eyes flew open. “Jack…”

Still listening, Jack held up a hand to stop him. “Come on, Tara,” he muttered. “Don’t appear too eager…make him work for it.”

“Jack!” Myles rose from his chair, indignant.

“Sit down,” Jack’s voice was firm. “She’s in there with him, and she can’t get out unless she stays in character. Think, Myles.”

Myles held his gaze for one long second before returning to his chair. Sue gave him a sympathetic glance from across the van; somehow he found it in himself to be bitterly amused. I guess we were only fooling ourselves.

Tara was speaking. …get you in trouble. I’ll be okay, Todd; it was an honest mistake.

Todd’s voice was pleased, cocky. Don’t worry about me, Babe; I can take care of myself. I won’t tell on you. Believe me, you don’t want to get into trouble with old dragon lady Howard.

Myles had to admit that Tara was doing a wonderful job. Her voice now carried just the right mixture of relief and caution. Well, I’ll have to leave that decision up to you. You do what you want.

Anything I want? Todd asked silkily. Tara didn’t reply; the next sound that came across the speaker was…

Myles clenched his hand into a fist as he listened to the unmistakable sound of kissing…and the rustle of clothing. When Tara spoke again, her voice was breathless. Wait. Not yet…not here.

Todd whispered gruffly. When?

I’m not like that; I want to get to know you better first. What about our date to the shooting range?

A pleased little chuckle. Sure thing, Babe. This Saturday; I’ll take you out to dinner afterwards.

I’d like that. Tara apparently typed something on her keyboard. Okay, I should probably get out of here before we both get into trouble. Could you get that printout for me? I need it for this batch report.

Todd’s footsteps walked away, and the sound system in the van began making odd shuffling noises.

“She’s taking advantage of his absence to put the surveillance equipment in her briefcase,” Jack guessed. “She knows it would show up during her personal scan.”

Several minutes later, they watched as Tara was escorted to the front door of Howard Industries by the blond security guard. Now the situation was reversed; Myles could see perfectly through the building’s large glass windows, but he couldn’t hear anything. He didn’t need to; Todd gathered Tara in a passionate embrace that didn’t require any explanation. Myles was surprised to discover that he’d almost cut off the circulation in his hand.

They watched from the van until Tara got into her car and drove away. A few minutes later, as the surveillance van was heading back to the Hoover Building, Tara’s voice came over the speaker. “Jack?”

Jack keyed the microphone. “I’m here; go ahead.”

She sounded tired. “I’m sorry about that; I did the best I could.”

Jack cast a quick glance at Myles. “You did fine. Were you able to find anything?”

“No.”

Jack closed his eyes, disappointment etched on his face. When he spoke, however, his voice was comforting. “We knew it was a long shot.”

Her voice betrayed her frustration. “I know there was something there; I could feel it. That’s why I took so long to get back. I can try again in the morning.”

Jack was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Do you think he’ll talk?”

She sighed. “Yes; he likes to show off.”

“Then we can’t let you go back.”

She was determined. “What other choice do we have? We only have until tomorrow. I’ll go in first thing, before he’s had a chance to spread it around. Give me one more shot, Jack. Please.”

Myles shook his head at Jack, even as he knew that Tara was right. “She’d be walking right into a trap,” he whispered fiercely.

Jack’s eyes locked with his. Never once looking away, the dark-haired agent spoke into his headset. “Meet us back at the office. We’ll come up with a plan.”

Oh, and when the love spills over,
and music fills the night,
and when you can’t contain your joy inside…

Tara Jackson’s Apartment
Fairfax, VA
May 6
2:00 a.m.

Dark. It was always so dark. And the smell…she had smelled it enough times to recognize it. What did it say about her, that the scent of blood was a familiar companion? She shifted restlessly, knowing that it was just a dream, but she couldn’t wake up. And it was coming…the cloud was coming for her, cold fingers of blood reaching out to touch her face. She needed to move; she needed to run, but her legs were locked in place. She stood as the wind swirled around her, lifting her hair away from the nape of her neck. It was so dark and cold, and she was so alone…

Suddenly she realized that something had changed, that there was an element in the dream that had never been there before. It touched her soul, giving her such warmth and peace. This was familiar too…familiar in a way the blood could never be, because this was the presence of overwhelming love. She looked around her eagerly; she knew that love, knew it with every facet of her heart. Then she saw him, standing some distance away, safe from the cloud. He was holding out his hand, and she almost cried as she saw that dear, comfortable face. “Myles…”

Surely she would be able to move now, run to his side. But she was frozen, and the cloud was stronger, determined to keep them apart. Cold with fury, burning with the blood of both saints and sinners, it would not let her go. It covered her, filling her mouth and her ears and her eyes until she could no longer see him, until his heart was gone from her. And she screamed…

As always, motion came too late, limbs flailing only as she awoke. For a moment her terror was complete as she saw the black figure beside the bed, but it moved. The curtains were drawn; there was no moonlight to touch his face, and yet she knew him. Then he spoke, as he always did. “Tara, it’s me.”

She stared, still trying to pull her mind from the depths of the nightmare. “You can’t be here,” she whispered. She thought of who might be listening. “We can’t–”

“I’ve taken care of it,” he said quietly. He seemed to study her for a moment before moving to the bathroom. When he returned with a glass of water, she realized that he was still wearing the black clothes from the evening’s surveillance. He seemed like a stranger to her, with those clothes and the inscrutable look in his eyes.

Their fingers touched as she took the glass from him, but he didn’t take her hand. He also didn’t move to sit beside her like he always had before. He continued to stand, watching her with an intensity that almost burned. She could sense the anger that he was barely holding in check. Finally he spoke. “You can’t go back.”

Why, why did he have to come here tonight? She was strong, but she wasn’t strong enough for this. “I don’t have a choice,” she whispered.

“We’ll find another way,” he said, his voice commanding. “I won’t let you go back.”

Maybe it was his tone that did it; she had never liked being told what to do. Maybe he had pushed too hard, passing his own fears on to her when she was frightened enough already. Whatever the reason, she felt anger rise in her chest. “It’s not your call!” she snapped.

He leaned over her on the bed, imprisoning her between his arms. “Tell me who has more right than I do,” he whispered furiously. “I’ll make it my call, if you won’t take care of yourself.” He took a shallow breath. “How could you place such little value on your own life, on your own happiness?” His features twisted into a mixture of passion and concern…and grief. When he spoke again, his voice was bitter. “Or is it simply that you really are that cheap?”

It was instinctive; she didn’t even have time to think before she slapped him. It wasn’t until she felt the pain in her hand that she realized what she had done. She stared in disbelief at the deepening bruise on his cheek. “Myles…”

His head was bent; he had closed his eyes. “I deserved that,” he said softly.

“No.” When he wouldn’t look at her, she reached out to gently touch his injured face, soothing it with her fingers. He needed to shave, and somehow the humanness of that touched her as nothing else had. She felt her eyes fill up with tears. “How…how could you say that about me, about us?” Her voice wavered, but she made herself keep going. This might be her last chance. “How could you say that, when what we did…what we are, is so beautiful?” Finally she had to stop, closing her eyes in defeat as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She felt the bed shift as he sat down across from her, and then he was pulling her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. She started sobbing then because she was surrounded by his scent, by the strength hidden in his slender frame, and she had missed him so much…

“I didn’t know,” he said wonderingly. “I thought I was protecting you, protecting your career. And after we…you seemed so uncertain.”

She had to think about that for a moment. “I was scared,” she admitted. “I had worked so hard, and the system isn’t fair. But I was more concerned about your family.” He pulled away to look at her, shock evident on his face. Before he could ask, she continued, “I know your parents have expectations for you, and I’m not exactly…I don’t think they would be pleased.”

He laughed. “Phillip and Elizabeth are never pleased.”

“I don’t want to come between you,” she said firmly.

He brought her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Tara, do you have any idea what you’ve done for me, what my life was like before I found you? Nothing is more important to me than being with you.”

She looked into his serious, loving eyes and saw their future, saw children and laughter and passion so deep it was almost incomprehensible. They were so close…

He saw her hesitation. “What’s wrong?”

She was ashamed to admit it; she honestly hadn’t realized until just now that it was still bothering her. “Myles, about Lucy…”

“I’ll talk to her,” he promised.

She shook her head. “No, it’s more than that.” She hoped he would understand; she hoped they were strong enough for this last challenge. She clung to his hand and began. “Fidelity is very important to me; it’s something I don’t take lightly. And…I always thought that someone who would be unfaithful had to be lacking in moral character.”

She felt him stiffen and begin to pull away, but she pulled his arm tight against her chest. “Wait. Please…please let me finish. I know you aren’t like that; I know it with everything inside of me. But I’ve had such bad luck with men, and this time…” She gazed at him, trying to let him see all of the anguish and love in her soul. “I can’t afford to be wrong, not this time. Not about you.”

He sat frozen, his eyes fixed on hers. She couldn’t read what he was thinking, but he wasn’t running. That had to be a good sign. Finally he spoke. “I’ve been attending church.”

She was stunned; it was the last thing she had ever expected to hear him say. “That’s…good.”

His cheeks were flushed. “Anne started going awhile ago, and she asked me to escort her.”

He sat in silence after this revelation. Finally Tara prompted him. “What’s it like?”

He looked away. “It’s a small gathering. Conservative…dignified. Not at all modern or…exuberant.”

She had to suppress a smile at the horror on his face as he contemplated a “progressive” church. “It sounds lovely.”

“It is,” he said, with surprising warmth. “The pastor is a good speaker, and the music is quite inspiring.” Again he lapsed into silence, obviously uncomfortable.

She understood what he was trying to say, and she was touched beyond reason that he had made the effort. “May I go with you sometime?”

He looked up at her with surprise and pleasure in his eyes. “I would like that very much.”

It was time for a leap of faith. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Good. I would enjoy attending church with the man I’m dating.”

It shook him. His eyes narrowed…his hand tightened on hers…his breathing quickened. Then he smiled, and it was the most beautiful expression she had ever seen on his face. “I’ll talk to Jack as soon as this case is over,” he said.

She smiled in return, and she knew she was home. “We’ll talk to him, together.”

He kissed her, a brief, thorough kiss. When it ended, she leaned away and placed her hand on his chest, her eyes somber. “I’m going back to Howard Industries in the morning.”

His arms tightened around her. “Tara…”

“You can’t keep protecting me,” she said firmly. “It’s my job; I accepted the risks when I signed up. You know I’m right about this.”

His anguished eyes swept over her face, as if he were trying to memorize every detail. He placed one warm hand at the nape of her neck and pulled her close for a kiss that was dark with love and sorrow. “You will take such care,” he whispered gruffly.

She nodded, still tasting him on her lips. A lifetime with this man, constantly being pushed to be more together than she was by herself…

He brushed her cheek with his hand. “Tara…” and suddenly she knew what he was about to say.

She reached up to place her fingers across his lips. “No. If you say it now, it’s goodbye.”

He closed his eyes, taking a shallow breath. Finally he murmured against her hand. “When…when you come home.”

She reached up to replace her fingers with her mouth, kissing him deeply. “I will,” she promised him fiercely. She kissed everything she could reach…lips, eyes, hands…running from the dawn she knew was coming. Finally she returned to his mouth one last time, slowing to savor the tenderness she found there. He gently laid her down on the bed, pausing to remove his shoes before he joined her.

“You can’t…” she whispered.

“Shh…I’ll be gone before morning.” He gathered her against his chest and stroked her hair until she fell asleep.

Howard Industries
Fairfax, VA
May 6
6:30 a.m.

Tara cracked open the door of Dr. Peter Keller’s office and listened intently. Satisfied that she didn’t hear anything, she slipped out into the hallway and began walking back to her cubicle. She had only taken a few steps when Keller himself rounded the corner and headed towards her. She forced herself to remain calm and respond politely to his greeting; she didn’t take a deep breath until he stepped into his office and closed the door. That had been too close.

Quickly she returned to her desk to reset the camera system. She had only looped the ones in Keller’s office and the hallway this time, afraid of getting caught if she did more. She hadn’t been able to do the video stream for the surveillance van; it was just too risky. She switched the cameras off completely and let them sit for almost a minute before restarting them, allowing enough time for Keller’s sudden appearance in a previously empty office. Would someone from security check it out? Maybe.

She sighed and considered her options. She was still looking for something, anything that might indicate where the kidnapper was keeping Madison and the anthrax. The plan this morning was for Tara to check the offices and labs of some of the other prominent scientists on staff, taking what precautions she could and stopping when the building became too crowded. She was also supposed to do a final inspection of the company’s computer system before leaving. Jack had ordered her to be out of the building by nine-thirty; he had been adamant about it. If she hadn’t managed to find anything by then, they would have to resort to the direct approach. She didn’t want to think about Maddy’s chances then...or about what could happen with the anthrax.

So far, Tara had only been able to search Keller’s rooms. She couldn’t keep on like this; people were filing in to start the workday. Besides, she knew in her heart that this was a waste of time. Whatever she was looking for was in Virginia Howard’s office; she was sure of it. She walked down the hall to get a drink of water, hoping to clear her head. She reached the fountain, but the sign above it caught her attention before she could take a drink. It was the fire escape route, the familiar little map of rooms and hallways that displayed the safest path out of the building.

She closed her eyes, thinking of everything that she had learned about this company, and suddenly she had it. She knew exactly what had bothered her about Dr. Howard’s office. She flew back to her desk and tapped into the security system again. There was no camera in Howard’s office, but the secretary’s chamber was dark, with no light shining from underneath the connecting door. Should I call in the team now? She gave a tiny shake of her head. No, I need to know for sure. Once I’ve seen it myself, I’ll tell them. But in case something goes wrong...

She thought for a moment and then opened the company’s email program. Myles had one of those cell phones that had access to the Internet; he was quite proud of it and used it all the time. She obviously couldn’t send a message to his work account, but she had used his personal address enough times that she had it memorized. As she typed, she allowed herself one brief thought of the way he had looked early this morning as he had slipped out of her bed. He had kissed her and begged her to be careful before quietly leaving her apartment. Myles, please find this...I want to come home to you today...

When she was finished, she read through the message quickly. It was lousy code, but she didn’t have time to think of anything better. Picturing his face, she added one more line and sent it before she could change her mind. Checking the security system again, she saw that Howard’s office still appeared to be empty. She already had the equipment she needed from her search of Keller’s office, the same equipment she had used the night before. She did what she needed to with the cameras and made one final alteration to the program before hurrying to the stairwell; there wasn’t much time.

It was the fire map that had reminded her, the little drawing that resembled a blueprint. She had studied the layout of the company when she first started working on the case and had reviewed the plans for Dr. Howard’s office two days ago in preparation for her search. She slipped into the darkened office and aimed her penlight at the east wall. The bookshelf was there, just as she remembered it: elegant, dark wood, set just slightly into the wall.

The problem was that none of the other walls in the room had indentions; there wasn’t any record of such a thing on the blueprints, either. It was a little detail, really; the bookcase was so beautiful that you hardly noticed the wall behind it. She’d been thinking of incriminating documents last night, never imagining that Howard would dare to keep Madison here. But her subconscious had noticed and had been trying to tell her that something looked out of place.

Moving to the bookcase, she began to feel along the sides and back. She was reasonably sure she wouldn’t find what she looking for on the shelves, having searched them last night. She found it on the back, close to one side and about halfway up: a small hollow with a button hidden inside. This was the hard part, and it never got any easier. It took a special kind of courage to take that risk, never knowing what it might require of you. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the button.

The wall behind the bookshelf slid noiselessly aside, and light spilled out from the room that had been revealed. There was space to pass between the bookshelf and the wall; Tara slid inside and cautiously looked around. The room was white…pristine, sterile. Two smaller chambers with windows and doors stood directly across from her, and a narrow hallway ran alongside the opposite wall. She walked forward to look into the smaller rooms. One was empty, but the other…she caught her breath. A golden-haired angel was huddled into a forlorn little ball on a metal cot. Tara quickly reached for the door handle, her mind registering the lack of movement. Oh God….

“Madison Winfield? Maddy?” Too late, she heard the soft brush of air behind her. She barely registered the danger before she felt a stinging sensation in her neck and drifted into darkness.

Surveillance Van
Outside Howard Industries
May 6
6:50 a.m.

A chorus of voices instantly rose inside the van.

“What just happened?”

“Did she say…”

“Tara!”

Several loud noises were heard from the speaker system, followed quickly by the unmistakable screech of electronic feedback. Jack winced and removed his headset. “Everybody calm down!” he demanded. As he finished speaking, the wail from the sound equipment stopped, plunging the van into silence. He took a deep breath and looked at the young man, one of Stafford’s agents, who was seated at the computer. “Jenkins, status report.”

His face was solemn. “We’ve lost contact with Agent Williams, sir.”

“Transmitting and receiving?” Jack asked.

“Receiving only; she can hear us just fine.”

Jack shook his head. “That’s assuming she’s still the one wearing the device. We have to assume that’s been compromised; turn it off.”

“Yes, sir. Agent Stafford wants to speak to you.”

Jack slipped his headset back on and spoke to the lead agent who was currently stationed in a building across the street. “Alex, did you hear? Yeah, we’re going to need the other teams on this.” He listened for several minutes, responding only when necessary. Finally he pushed his headset aside and spoke to the others inside the van. “From this point on, we have to assume that Madison Winfield and Agent Williams are being held inside Howard Industries by an unknown assailant or assailants.”

“When do we go in?” Myles said gruffly from his place in the corner.

Jack sighed. “We don’t; not yet.”

Myles eyes flashed. “We can’t leave them.”

“We don’t have a clue about what’s going on in that building right now,” Jack said firmly. “Backup’s coming; as soon as we have a handle on the situation, we move.”

Jack,” Myles began. He was interrupted when his phone beeped. Impatiently he reached for it, his face paling as he looked at the screen. “It’s an email from Tara’s work account.”

“What does it say?” Sue asked.

Myles opened the message and began reading. “Hi sweetheart,” he stumbled a bit, but tried again:

“Hi sweetheart. I’m sorry I can’t come with you to see the house again today; but I’m really busy at work. The place is perfect; I think we’ve found exactly what we were looking for! Don’t forget to check the measurements in the master bedroom; I’m not sure the furniture will fit. I put the camera in your briefcase this morning so you can take pictures. I’ll see you tonight…”

His voice trailed off as he read the last sentence silently. Then he looked at Jack. “That’s the part that matters.”

The other man looked at him for a moment before nodding. “Okay, first things first…the security camera. Jenkins, can you check to see if Tara set up the live feed again?”

“Last night we decided it was too risky to use during the day; you’re thinking she knew we might need the cameras?” Bobby didn’t say anything else, but the reason hung in the air between them: Because there was a good chance she wasn’t coming back…

“I have it,” Jenkins said. He pressed a few keys, and the monitors in the van were soon filled with pictures from inside Howard Industries. Everything looked perfectly normal; people seemed to be carrying on their regular morning activities. “It seems like the employees don’t have a clue about what’s going on.”

“Myles, you read something about the ‘Master Bedroom’. Maybe she meant Dr. Howard’s office,” Sue suggested.

“That’s the only room without a security camera; Tara told us last night.” Jack said.

Myles glanced through the message again. “I think Tara is trying to tell us something about Howard’s office. She says the measurements aren’t right; do you think she discovered something in Howard’s office that doesn’t fit the layout she memorized?”

“Like a hidden room?” Bobby wondered. “There was a secret exit at the McKenna Warehouse, remember? Could be a pattern.”

“What about a secret exit here?” Sue asked, alarmed.

“That’s a good point,” Jack said. “Okay, change of plan. We have to evacuate the building and see if we can figure out what’s going on in Howard’s office.” He got back on the headset and talked to Stafford for several minutes. When he finished, he spoke to the group. “Sue, you’re in here with Jenkins. D and Bobby, we’ll be going in with the other teams to evacuate the employees. We’re aiming for speed and efficiency here; nobody gets the chance to sound an alarm.”

“Got it,” D said.

Jack turned to face Myles. “I need to know that you’ll stay in this van unless I tell you otherwise. If you can’t do that, then I’m sending you home.”

Myles held his gaze for one long moment before nodding. “Take care of them,” he said, his voice strained.

Jack replied gently, “We’ll get them out…both of them. I won’t let anything happen.”

Jenkins spoke, breaking the tension. “Agent Hudson, backup is in place.”

With a final glance at Myles, Jack left the van. Bobby and D followed, leaving Myles to struggle with his fears.



Howard Industries
Fairfax, VA
May 6
8:30 a.m.

She was in the dream again; she had just reached the part where the cloud spread out its fingers to touch her. Only this time the fingers were warm and gentle, not icy and frightening. She was in pain, too, which was a little odd. The dream didn’t usually involve pain. Fear, death, darkness, cold…but not pain. With a groan, she opened her eyes. The bright overhead lights hit her, and she shut her lids again quickly, wincing from the exposure. Must have been some kind of night. I don’t usually drink that much. Wait, that wasn’t right. Suddenly it all came flooding back to her: Howard Industries, the secret room, Maddy…

Maddy! Ignoring the lights, Tara opened her eyes again and tried to sit up. The sudden movement caused the little girl in front of her to gasp and retreat to the bed on the other side of the room. “It’s okay,” Tara said, trying to reassure her. She rose to her feet and then had to lean against the wall until the room stopped moving. What did she give me, anyway? Did I hit my head when I passed out? Gingerly she felt her scalp and located a small bump near her temple. Ouch. Okay, ignore that for now. How do we get out of here?

A quick search revealed that the surveillance equipment she had brought with her was long gone. She tried the doorknob, but of course it was locked. The hinges were on the other side of the frame, too. She might be able to break the window, but surely that would just set off an alarm somewhere. Calm down, Tara. Think it through. Moving slowly, she walked over to the sink in the corner and washed her face.

When she finished, she looked at the little girl sitting on the cot. “Hi Maddy; my name’s Tara. A lot of people have been looking for you.” She walked over to sit on the bed, and the little girl scurried to the opposite end. “It’s okay; I’m not going to hurt you.” No response. She decided to take another approach. What harm could it do to reveal it, even if someone was listening? Her cover was already blown. “Maddy, I’m a friend of your Uncle Myles.” Something flickered across the child’s face when she heard his name. Tara smiled encouragingly. “He’s really nice, isn’t he? He’s been worried about you.”

Blue eyes measured her for a few more seconds. Finally Madison Winfield spoke. “Where’s Jeff?”

Tara was glad for a question she could answer. “He’s safe. He’s at a hospital right now, and people are taking care of him.”

“Are my mommy and daddy there?”

The longing in her eyes almost broke Tara’s heart. “Yes, sweetheart; they’re with him. They’ve been worried about you, too.” She thought of the anthrax. “Maddy, do you feel okay? Are you sick?”

“My chest hurts.”

Please, God…no. Tara moved to sit beside the girl. “Honey, I need to check your temperature, okay?” She waited until Madison nodded before reaching out to touch her forehead. It was warm…too warm. Tara also noticed a smell very much like ammonia. “Maddy, did you have an accident with the potty?”

The little girl’s eyes filled with tears. “Just a little. I tried not to...I only messed up once.”

“Shh…it’s okay, baby.” Tara gently brushed soft gold curls away from the little face. “I bet you’d like to wash up a bit, wouldn’t you?” She moved over to the sink and wet some paper towels, fury building inside her. Come back in here, you coward. Give me just one chance… Then she shook her head. She couldn’t allow herself to be emotional about this; Maddy might get hurt if she wasn’t careful.

She did her best to clean the girl up, but her clothes were beyond repair, stained with urine and sweat. Tara looked at her own clothes and thought for a moment. She’d worn a jacket this morning; it was always a little cool inside this building. Quickly she slipped out of her jacket and pulled off her blouse. Putting the jacket back on and buttoning up, she said, “Time for a change of clothes, Maddy-girl.” She helped the little girl take off her ruined party dress and pulled the shirt over her head.

They both looked at the result. The shirt was too big, of course; it looked more like a nightgown. Maddy giggled, and Tara couldn’t help but laugh with her. “You’ll have to grow a bit, I think.” The small attempt at grooming seemed to have lifted Maddy’s spirits. It also seemed to have removed any lingering doubts the child might have had; she climbed into Tara’s lap and rested against her. Tara closed her eyes. Oh Myles…she’s an angel. I’ll keep her safe for you; I promise.

“The maternal instinct is always a fascinating subject. Tell me, why do you think some women have it and others don’t?”

It didn’t really startle her; she had known the kidnapper would return eventually. She did feel Maddy tense and cling to her neck. Tara opened her eyes and looked at the woman on the other side of the window. “I don’t know, Dr. Howard. You’re the scientist; why don’t you explain the situation to me?”

Howard looked exactly like her portrait that graced the front entrance upstairs: tall, slender, and elegant. Her dark brown hair had glints of silver running through it; she was impeccably dressed. Of course, she wasn’t holding a 9-millimeter in the portrait. She glanced at Tara with something very much like amusement. “In good time. I’m glad you’re awake. I didn’t give you a very high dose of the sedative; I have something I want you to see.” She unlocked the door and opened it. “Please come with me.”

Tara would have a better chance of overpowering the scientist if she didn’t have to worry about Maddy. When she tried to put the girl down on the bed, however, Maddy whimpered and snuggled closer. “Bring the girl with you,” Howard said. “Do you know this is the first time she hasn’t cried since she arrived here?”

Tara didn’t answer, but the fury jumped up another notch. Be careful…don’t let her push you. Carrying Maddy in her arms, she followed Virginia Howard out of the room and down the narrow hall away from her office.

Surveillance Van
Outside Howard Industries
Fairfax, VA
May 6
8:15 a.m.

One hour and twenty-five minutes since he had last heard her voice.

“Is the video ready yet?” Myles saw Sue try to suppress a slightly irritated smile. It might have had something to do with the fact that he had asked the same question three times in the last five minutes.

“They’ll have it in place soon,” she said gently. He sighed in frustration but backed off; he didn’t miss the look of gratitude that Jenkins gave Sue.

The building had been evacuated without incident; Tara and Virginia Howard were the only people unaccounted for, along with Madison, of course. Stafford and his crew were trying to see what was happening in Howard’s office. MILCAM reported no heat signatures in the room, but three people were still in the building. The thermal detector registered a child and two adults immediately east of the office. The child’s temperature was a little elevated, and one of the adults wasn’t moving. Myles tried not to think about that.

Right now caution was more important than speed. They couldn’t take the chance that Howard would release the anthrax or harm Maddy and Tara. Even though he knew the office was empty, Stafford had ordered that a fiber optic camera be sent through the ventilation system to collect images before proceeding.

Myles understood the logic of it, but his heart refused to listen. Maddy needed to be home with her family, safe from this nightmare. And Tara…he thought of the way he had held her through the night, cradling her soft, warm body in his arms. This morning when they’d kissed, her eyes had held such love for him…for him. He ached to go inside that building and carry her away from this, carry her to the safety of his home and his bed.

“We have visual.” Jenkins cast a relieved glance in Myles’ direction.

Sue spotted it first. “There…the bookcase. See how it fits into the wall?”

“I see it,” Myles replied grimly. He keyed his headset. “Jack, do you see the bookcase?”

“Yeah…covering a door of some kind, we think. Hold on.” After a moment, Jack spoke again. “We already knew that Howard Industries moved to this site ten years ago. One of the employees just told us that the original plan for the building called for an additional lab to be built next to Howard’s office in the basement, but the idea was cancelled.”

Myles felt the excitement of just the slightest thread of hope. “Who was the contractor?”

“Stafford has somebody looking into it,” Jack replied.

There was nothing to do but wait. MILCAM finally reported that the adult they were all concerned about had started moving again. Myles wondered if it was Tara, if she had been unconscious for awhile. A few minutes later, Jenkins was called to the building to handle some sort of technical crisis. Myles watched him go, longing to take his place. If he acted professionally on site, nobody would make him leave. He could just stand up right now and walk out…

“I have to wait, too,” Sue said behind him. When he turned to look at her, she continued, “Every time that he’s out there and I’m in here, I wait. I never know if he’ll make it back; sometimes I can’t even understand what’s happening because I don’t catch all of the conversations going on around me. I don’t have any choice, though; I wait because he tells me to.”

He raised a brow at her. “And you always do as you’re told,” he said sarcastically.

She flushed, but held her ground. “I didn’t use to. But when Jack and I began dating, Garrett made it very clear that if we couldn’t keep it out of the office, I would be transferred. So I had to learn to handle it.”

Myles shook his head. “It won’t be the same between Tara and me. One of us will have to transfer, regardless.”

“So you’ll wait at home, or at your desk, or while you’re out with your own team. In some ways, that’s even harder because then you really don’t know what’s going on.” She looked at him sympathetically. “I know you want to rush in there and do everything yourself. What I had to learn, what you will need to learn, is that when you try to help you can end up making it worse. Tara doesn’t need the distraction of worrying about you right now; neither does Jack.” Her eyes were kind but firm. “If you love her, you’ll learn to wait.”

Myles held her gaze for a long time. Finally he leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes, the longing conquered…for now.

One hour and fifty minutes.

Howard Industries
Fairfax, VA
May 6
9:00 a.m.

Tara walked down the hall in front of Virginia Howard, ever conscious of the little girl in her arms…and the gun at her back. After about twenty feet, the hallway opened into an enormous room filled with scientific equipment, an area as clean and white as the rest of this underground prison.

“My private lab, where the real work is done,” Howard said. She reached out to turn on a machine that Tara didn’t recognize. A loud noise flowed from the device, causing Maddy to startle in Tara’s arms. “I apologize for the noise, but I can’t have anyone listening to our conversation.” Howard motioned to the room around her. “What do you think? Feel free to look around, but please know that I won’t hesitate to kill the child if necessary.”

Tara did her best to reason through her anger; she knew she couldn’t afford to let this woman break her. Taking a deep breath, she looked around. “It’s very impressive. You have a lot of nice equipment.” She saw the bulletin board hanging on the opposite wall and moved toward it almost unconsciously, horrified at the images she saw there. Pages and pages of material…photos of the Tokyo subway after the Sarin gas exposure of 1995…dead animals in all stages of disease and dissection…smallpox…the plague. She held Maddy close to her chest, both to shield the girl’s eyes and to take comfort from her sweet, pure innocence.

Dr. Howard used the gun to touch an image of Hiroshima after the World War II atomic bombing. “It’s magnificent; isn’t it? The destructive power of science. Physics unleashed, altering the course of history simply because it exists”

Tara looked at the longing in the other woman’s eyes and suddenly understood. “That’s why you created the new strain of anthrax, isn’t it? In pursuit of scientific perfection.”

Howard gave her a pleased smile. “I knew you would understand.” She waved her free hand at the bench behind them. “My lab books…details of the process. I’ve tried different things over the years, but this new anthrax is my crowning achievement.”

Tara had to know. “Is Maddy infected?”

Howard never even glanced at the little girl. “With the new strain? Yes; I needed a test case.”

She thought of the holding cells…cages…up front, and cold fury filled her. “She’s a child.”

“She’s a research animal.”

It literally stole her breath. Myles, it’s here…the cloud…it’s in her eyes. Oh God, please help me. She decided to take the offensive. “Why the President’s children? Why make it harder on yourself, when you could have used anyone?”

Howard pointed to another picture, a familiar photograph of a nine-year-old girl running naked down a street in Vietnam, screaming in agony from napalm burns. “Do you know who invented napalm? No, of course you don’t; nobody ever remembers. It was Dr. Louis Fieser, a distinguished chemist. He was working for Harvard at the time.” Her hand moved to the photo of the Tokyo subway. “Most people couldn’t tell you that the AUM Shinrikyo caused this attack.”

Tara stared at her. “You kidnapped the children and infected them with anthrax because it would draw attention, because it would guarantee that people would remember your name.”

Howard nodded. “I’ve created something exquisite; it’s only fitting that I should receive recognition for it, don’t you think?”

Tara looked at the bulletin board, trying to control her rage. There was still the note to worry about, the one they had found pinned to Jeff’s shirt: May 6. She couldn’t ask about that right now without breaking down. She nodded towards the picture of the young Vietnamese girl. “Do you know her name?”

Howard was surprised. “Did she have one? I don’t think it was ever released.”

Almost shaking with fury, Tara said quietly, “Her name is Kim Phuc. She’s a Goodwill Ambassador for the United Nations, and she established the Kim Foundation to help child victims of war.”

The older woman looked at her. “Well then, it turned out fine for her, didn’t it?” She shrugged, her face devoid of all emotion. “Research animals.”

Surveillance Van
Outside Howard Industries
Fairfax, VA
May 6
9:30 a.m.

Jenkins keyed his headset. “Agent Hudson, are you ready?” The building contractor had been located and coerced into assisting; he had helped the team access the ventilation shaft that led to Howard’s secret lab. Jack was preparing to crawl into the system.

Jack’s voice came through the speaker. “Ready. I won’t be able to hear you very well once I’m inside, not with this noise.” Some kind of machine had been turned on about thirty minutes ago, rendering the Bureau’s best listening devices useless…well, all but one.

“Understood, sir. I’ll do the best I can from this end,” Jenkins replied.

Stafford’s voice was next. “Jack, try to find an access panel and put the camera in place. We’re still aiming for caution at this point; let’s give Sue a chance to tell us what she sees. Don’t shoot unless you have a clear line of sight and even then only if you believe that Madison and Agent Williams are in imminent danger.”

“Affirmative.” Jack’s voice was coolly professional; he was obviously focused on the task ahead.

The next several minutes passed in silence except for the occasional sound that was transmitted back to the van as Jack crawled through the ventilation system. He didn’t speak to them, partly for fear of discovery but also because the respirator he was wearing would have made it difficult to understand him. He couldn’t don full protective gear in this situation, but Stafford had insisted that he at least wear an N95, the CDC’s recommendation for anthrax handlers. There was always the chance that Howard had put the bacteria in the ventilation system, knowing that it was the most likely entrance for a rescue effort.

Myles glanced over at Sue, not surprised to see that she was twisting her hands in her lap. He reached across to touch her arm, and she looked up at him with worried eyes. “Waiting,” he said softly.

She gave him a shaky grin. “I’m not so good at following my own advice.”

“I would never have guessed,” he teased and chuckled when she wrinkled her nose at him. It felt good to chase away the shadows, if only for a moment.

“The camera’s in place,” Jenkins said.

Myles leaned forward eagerly, relieved to see Tara alive and apparently unharmed. Maddy…his heart stopped. Maddy was curled up on a chair, her eyes closed. No.

“Myles, she’s okay,” Sue said. “Look closely at her chest; you can see it moving. And the hair that’s curled on her cheek…see how it flutters every few seconds? She’s alive; I think maybe she’s just asleep.”

Myles looked at the image in front of him and forced himself to think analytically. Sue was right; he could detect little movements once he knew where to look. So Maddy and Tara were okay for now, but the line of sight was bad. “Jack can’t get a clear shot. Maddy’s out of the way, but Tara’s directly between the access panel and Dr. Howard.”

“And she’s turned too far away,” Sue said. “I can see Howard, but the angle is wrong for Tara.”

“Half of the conversation may be all we can get,” Jenkins replied. “From the information the contractor gave us, this is the best location for surveillance.”

Sue nodded and focused her attention on the monitor. Myles watched the screen in front of him, frustrated by his forced inactivity. He felt useless…powerless to save Maddy or the woman who meant so very much to him. He yearned to hold her and tell her so many things. She was so beautiful…

Two hours and forty minutes.

Howard Industries
Fairfax, VA
May 6
9:50 a.m.

Tara looked at the woman across from her and considered her options. Maddy had gone to sleep; Tara didn’t want to think about the possible drugs running through the child’s system. Howard had allowed Tara to put the girl on a chair but wouldn’t let her be carried back to the other room, effectively limiting Tara’s choices. She didn’t dare take on the scientist with Maddy in the room. All she could do was wait for backup and encourage Howard to keep talking. She thought again of the note they had found with Jeffrey; there was something she needed to know. “What else are you planning to do with the anthrax?”

Howard’s face was unreadable. “What makes you think I’m going to do anything with it? I’ve already tested it on the child.”

Tara shook her head. “You wouldn’t make a new strain of anthrax and only use it on one person; you’d want more data than that. More…test subjects.”

Howard tilted her head slightly in acknowledgement. “You’re right, of course. One case neither proves nor disproves a theory.” She reached over to the lab bench and selected a notebook. Handing it to Tara, she said, “Page fifty-seven.”

Tara located the correct entry and looked at the schematic drawn there. “The Patriot Center?”

Howard nodded. “The Fairfax school system is having its annual end of year teacher’s meeting and awards ceremony. Almost 10,000 employees are currently inside the building, both males and females ranging in age from early twenties to late sixties. It’s a sufficient demographic for a research study.”

Tara thought about it. “Not a bad choice for security purposes, either.”

“True; security for a teacher’s meeting doesn’t quite compare to that used on some of the other events around this area.” Howard waved her free hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter to me in the slightest who the subjects are; I’ll receive all the recognition I deserve from the girl. The others will be used strictly for science in its purest form.”

Tara stared at her in horror. “When, Dr. Howard? When is it set to be released?”

Howard glanced at her watch. “In about thirty-seven minutes. They’re just finishing a coffee break right now and filing back into the arena. The canisters are on a timer programmed for ten-thirty.”

Surveillance Van
9:53 a.m.

Sue gasped as her mind processed what she had seen.

“What? What is it?” Myles demanded.

She tore her eyes from the screen for one second to look at him in horror. “The anthrax…she’s going to release it at a teacher’s meeting at ten-thirty. I didn’t see where, but she mentioned Fairfax and an arena.”

“We can call one of the schools and ask.” Jenkins spoke into his microphone. “Agent Stafford, did you copy that?”

Stafford’s reassuring voice carried through the speaker. “We’ll get someone on it right now; if we can move quickly enough, we’ll have time to locate the building and get everyone out. Good work, Thomas.”

Inside the van, Myles was shaking his head. “This doesn’t feel right; she’s telling her too much.”

“Do you think she lied about the location? Why would she do that, when she doesn’t know that I can see what she says?” Sue asked.

“No, that’s not it. I don’t think she lied, but something…” His voice trailed off as he looked at the monitor. “She’s speaking again. You watch; I’ll think about it some more.”

Sue returned her attention to the screen, while Myles leaned back and closed his eyes.


~~~


Howard Industries
9:55 a.m.

10,000 people. She’s telling me because she thinks they can’t hear anything. Sue, did you see that? Is there any possible chance that they got a camera set up in time? She’s telling me…because she knows I won’t be able to tell anyone else, because she knows I’m not leaving. The panic was back, the same familiar anxiety that she’d had while talking to Joshua Evans. The presence of Evil…

Should I try to do something…get the gun from her? What about Maddy? I can’t take the chance. But all those people... Tara took a deep breath. She had no choice but to continue on as before, listening, praying for backup. “So what happens now? Is there another exit from this room?”

Howard shook her head, a secretive little smile on her lips. “No; we’re not leaving.”

Something wasn’t making sense; Tara felt a tingling in the back of her neck that always signaled trouble. “You know we can’t stay down here forever; they’ll find a way in eventually. I can’t believe that you would want to study the results of your experiment from a prison cell.”

Howard reached to take the lab book away from her, stroking it lovingly before returning it to the proper location on the bench. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to follow the experiment to its conclusion; other scientists will have to do that for me.” She looked at Tara almost fondly. “I thought you might be one of them; I wondered when I hired you. Then you started looking around in the computer system, and I knew. It doesn’t matter though; I’m glad you joined my company, glad that you found out my secret. I wanted to share it with someone…wanted one final chance to have someone else recognize my genius for what it is.”

Something was screaming inside Tara’s mind, begging her to think…to pay attention. “Dr. Howard, what are you going to do?”

Howard looked around the lab, her eyes pausing affectionately over tools and equipment. “Six months ago I was diagnosed with a brain tumor called a glioblastoma multiforme. It’s inoperable and completely untreatable; I’ll be dead within a matter of months. It’s almost an honor, really. The disease that chose to take my life is one of the great wonders of the world of oncology; I’m flattered that it recognized in me a worthy adversary.”

Her eyes flickered to the walls of the room. “They’re outside by now, I would think. Maybe in the ventilation shaft. It doesn’t matter; they won’t find out about the anthrax in time. They won’t shoot, for fear of hurting the President’s daughter, but that hesitation can be easily overcome.”

Tara looked into the other woman’s eyes and saw the black cloud that had haunted her for as long as she could remember…saw it in her eyes, saw it in the air above her. She saw, and she knew. “Dr. Howard, no.”


~~~


Surveillance Van
9:58 a.m.

Myles sat up suddenly, his eyes opening as he listened to Sue repeat Howard’s words. “She wants to die; she’d rather have us kill her than wait for the cancer to take her.”

Sue shook her head. “But Jack won’t fire, not with Maddy and Tara…”

“He’ll have to, if she forces his hand.” Panic tearing at his heart, Myles left the van and ran across the street.


~~~


Howard Industries
10:00 a.m.

The scientist smiled. “It’s just another kind of science, really. Action…and reaction.” She raised the gun and pointed it at Madison Winfield’s sleeping form.

Tara screamed and flung herself in front of the little girl as the first of the shots went off. It was aimed low; she felt pain explode in her left leg. Instantly an answering weapon was fired from somewhere behind her. It hit Howard directly in the chest, but not before the gun in her hand discharged one last time. Tara fell over Madison’s body, conscious of the rush of blood from her own chest and a terrible, wrenching pain.

Howard Industries
Fairfax, VA
May 6
10:00 a.m.

Myles rushed down the stairwell to the basement of Howard Industries, brushing aside people who tried to stop him. He raced into Howard’s office and was stopped by a cry from a familiar little voice. “Uncle Myles!”

“Maddy!” He gathered the girl in his arms, stroking her soft curls and trying to reassure himself that she was okay. He drew his hand away in shock; she had blood on her clothes.

“It’s not hers, mate.”

Myles looked up and realized that Bobby was the agent who had carried Maddy out. He looked into the other man’s eyes, asking the silent question.

Bobby’s face was solemn. “You should get in there.”

Myles swallowed hard. “Maddy, I have to go in the other room. Go with Agent Manning, sweetheart.”

“No. I want to stay with you.” Maddy clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt.

Myles was torn. He wanted to hold Madison, but he needed to be with Tara. “Bobby will take good care of you; I promise. I have to help someone in the other room.”

Maddy pulled back to look at him. “Miss Tara?” At his nod, the little girl frowned. “She needs a Band-Aid.”

Myles looked again at Bobby, who shook his head. He closed his eyes and said, “I’ll look after her, Maddy. Just go with Agent Manning, please.”

Bobby took the girl from his arms. “Come on, sheila. Let’s see if we can get you something to drink.”

“I want some lemonade,” Maddy said decisively.

“I think I can swing that…” Bobby’s voice trailed off as he carried Madison down the hall. Myles took a deep breath and slipped through the door into the other room. He followed the corridor to the east and stopped as he came into the secret lab. He felt his heart tighten in his chest as he saw her there on the floor, lying just a few feet away from the body of Virginia Howard.

“Tara.” It was more of a prayer than anything else. He hurried to her side.

Her voice was so soft. “Myles…anthrax at Patriot Center. Maddy…infected.”

Myles looked up to see Stafford listening intently. The other agent nodded at him and moved away to speak into his headset. Myles managed to smooth his features before he turned back to face Tara. “Okay, we’ll handle it. You just rest.” With relief, he heard the medical personnel come into the room. Blood was pooling underneath her body; she was making a strange wheezing noise as she struggled to breathe.

One of the paramedics touched his shoulder. “Sir, you’ll need to move so that we can take care of her.”

Tara shook her head ever so slightly. “No.”

“Shh…it’s okay. I’ll just move up here so that they can work.” He shifted to kneel by her head, running his hands through her hair.

“Maddy…shot?” she whispered.

“She’s okay. You saved her,” Myles said.

An expression of longing filled her eyes. “Child…I could have had.”

Myles felt his heart wrench in his chest. “Sweetheart, please. We can have children; I’ll give you as many babies as you want. Beautiful blond angels who look just like their mother. Please.”

She smiled, a fleeting little ghost of happiness. “No…Fourth.”

He gave her a little choked laugh. “You can choose all the names.” Myles was dimly aware of the chaos that encircled them; in the back of his mind he heard the paramedics talking about blood pressure and oxygen levels. He tried not to look but couldn’t help noticing the damage as they cut away her clothes. Oh Maddy, I don’t think there are enough Band-Aids in the world… He determinedly shut away his anxiety and concentrated on Tara’s beloved face.

Her eyes were slightly unfocused now; she was looking straight through him. “Cloud gone…just sunshine.”

He realized that the salty taste on his lips was from his tears. He stroked a gentle hand over her forehead. “Yes, I’m looking at the sunshine.”

“Myles…” Her voice was even softer now, more air than actual sound. “…love you.”

He closed his eyes, openly sobbing. Bowing down, he pressed his cheek against hers. “I love you, too.”

Inova Fairfax Hospital
Falls Church, VA
May 6
11:30 p.m.

Sue sat beside Jack in the waiting room, her hand wrapped tightly in his. She was worried about Myles. She had been the one to come with him to the hospital almost fourteen hours ago, the others remaining behind to finish up the case. She had sat beside him, trying to offer support as they waited for news. Myles had been quiet, staring at the floor and refusing to speak.

Lucy had arrived a little later. She had walked over to Myles and wrapped her arms around him without any hesitation. Myles had closed his eyes and leaned into her embrace, and Sue had felt her own eyes fill with tears as she watched her friend succumb to his pain. Finally Lucy had pulled away to look at him, bracing his shoulders with her hands. “She’s going to be okay. She loves you, and she won’t give that up without a fight.” Myles had looked at her for a long moment before nodding and had then pulled her down to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around her. Sue had been incredibly proud of both of her friends at that moment…for reaching out, for holding on to hope.

The others had trickled in over the hours, bringing news from the case. The Patriot Center had been evacuated in time, but the agents couldn’t stop the canisters from releasing their deadly spray. It was going to take weeks to clean up the building, at an enormous cost. Still, it could have been worse. Howard had died believing that nobody had known about the scheduled attack, and she had almost been right. With the noise from the machine (a giant centrifuge, it was later determined) precluding listening devices, they almost hadn’t discovered it in time. Jack had told this part of the story, stopping to send a grateful smile at Sue. “Of course, Howard didn’t know about our secret weapon.” The others had laughed and agreed with him; even Myles had managed a small smile.

Despite that brief moment of levity, the truth was that the case couldn’t really be called successful. Seven secret service agents dead…the security of one of the highest defense teams in the nation compromised…the Patriot Center damaged. They had gotten lucky, their only real break in the case coming from a completely unexpected source. There was the personal cost to consider, as well: Jeff…Maddy…Tara. Myles. Sue cast yet another worried glance at the blond agent. Some of the others were dozing in chairs; Lucy and D had gone downstairs in search of decent coffee. Myles sat in absolute stillness, drawing deeper into himself with every minute that passed.

Tara’s parents had arrived a few hours ago. Myles had greeted them politely and with great sympathy, but watching their pain only seemed to add to his own anxiety. Sue’s heart was breaking for him. He had changed so much over the past few months; she knew that Tara had played a very large part in that transformation. Sue’s suspicions about Myles’ feelings for the bubbly computer expert had been verified earlier today in the surveillance van; Myles was deeply in love with the woman who was currently in her thirteenth hour of surgery, the woman who could very possibly not live to see morning. It would hurt them all if Tara died, but Sue hated to think what it would require of Myles.

Each of the people in her life was associated with a color, forming a beautiful prism that she carried in her heart. Lucy was a brilliant purple; Jack was warm, abiding blue. Myles’ color had shifted from his usual strong mahogany to deepest black. Tara…Tara was the color of sunshine, and the absence of that light would darken the prism, making all of the other colors fade in grief. Sue closed her eyes and prayed with all of her heart for sunlight.

Suddenly Jack squeezed her hand. She opened her eyes and followed his gaze to the door of the waiting room where Tara’s doctor stood, her face shrouded with fatigue.

Inova Fairfax Hospital
Falls Church, VA
May 7
9:00 a.m.

Myles waited impatiently for Mr. and Mrs. Williams to come out of Tara’s room. The ICU had strict rules about visitors: none at all except for thirty-minute periods every four hours and then only two people at a time. Myles felt like he had to let Tara’s parents go first, and then he had to share the remaining minutes with the others.

His heart was torn; one minute he was grateful for the support of his friends, the next he felt like raging at everyone to leave him alone. He wanted to climb into that bed with her and tell the world to go away, tell them all to go away because nobody else could ever understand what she was to him. He wanted…

He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. He just wanted to hold her. He ached to gather her sweet form against him and feel her breath against his neck, feel that gentle reassurance that she was alive. He thought of the other things the doctor had said and shook his head. She was alive; that was enough for now. They could worry about the rest of it later. He thought of the message she had sent him before she was captured by Virginia Howard, picturing the last sentence in his mind: I'll see you tonight; I can't wait to begin our life together.

“Myles?” A feminine voice that sounded heartbreakingly similar to Tara’s came from across the room, where Mary Williams stood at the door with her husband. He hadn’t really had the energy to be nervous when he met the older couple yesterday evening; he had just wondered where he would find the strength to explain to them about his relationship with their daughter. He needn’t have worried; Mary had hugged him while Tom had shaken his hand and said simply, “Tara’s told us a lot about you.” Now the couple stood there smiling at him. Mary said, “They’ve taken her off the ventilator. She’s awake; if you hurry, you might be able to talk to her.”

Myles shot to his feet, remembering belatedly to look around to see who was coming with him this time. Bobby shook his head. “It’s your turn, mate. Give her our love.” Myles nodded gratefully and hurried down the hall to her room.

She was still too pale; there were still too many tubes and monitors hooked up to her poor, bruised body. None of it mattered, though, because she opened her eyes as he approached. She opened her eyes.

“Myles…”

“I’m here.” Already the tears were falling, and he wondered how she could do this to him, how she could reach him when nothing else could.

“How’s Maddy?” It was little more than a whisper; he could tell that it hurt when she spoke.

“She’s holding her own; the infection hadn’t progressed very far. The doctors are trying that new drug therapy you told us about. It will be awhile before we have any results.” He reached out to gently brush her hair away from her face. “Jeff’s better; the antibiotics seem to be helping.”

She nodded and gave him a pleased smile. “Myles…”

He clasped her hand in his. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“…love you.”

It really was enough; it was perfect. He smiled and leaned down to give her a gentle kiss. “I love you, too.”

Inova Fairfax Hospital
Falls Church, VA
May 12
7:00 p.m.

Myles looked up as he heard someone tap lightly on the door of Tara’s room. Jack stood just inside, holding a bouquet of flowers. The dark-haired man took in Tara’s sleeping form and said softly, “It’s just me tonight. Sue had a meeting with a group from her church; she said she would stop by in the morning.”

Myles nodded, his eyes never leaving the flowers in Jack’s arms. “Unless I misunderstood, you already have a lady of your own.”

Jack blushed and awkwardly shifted the bouquet from one hand to the other. “I can’t bring a friend some flowers while she’s in the hospital?”

Myles raised a single brow. “Three times in as many days?” Jack had brought Tara flowers every day since she was moved to a private room.

“So I like flowers,” the other man said defensively.

Myles studied him for a moment. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Jack opened his mouth and prepared to argue but stopped when he saw the look Myles was giving him. He walked over to the side of the bed and sat down, brushing Tara’s hand ever so gently with his finger. “It feels like it. If I had been faster…if I had been able to tell what Howard was planning to do…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Myles repeated softly. There wasn’t anything else he could say; Jack would have to find absolution within himself. He went on, trying to concentrate on positive news. “She had a good day today. Ate all of her lunch, which is quite an accomplishment given the revolting slop they persist in classifying as food in this establishment.”

A fleeting smile crossed Jack’s face. “Not everyone has your refined tastes…or your budget. I’m glad she’s eating. Did you hear that Maddy and Jeff are doing well?”

Myles nodded. “Lucy came by earlier; she told me.”

“They did an autopsy on Virginia Howard. She did have a brain tumor, just like she told Tara. How much that affected her judgment is something we’ll probably never know.”

Myles watched the evening light filter through the windows and cover the bed. “It doesn’t matter.”

Jack looked up at him. “No, I guess not.”

He didn’t know how to approach this; he wasn’t sure he could without breaking down. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Jack…we were going to tell you after this case. It took us awhile to figure it out, but once we knew, we weren’t going to lie about it.”

Jack held his gaze as he tossed Myles’ own words back at him. “It doesn’t matter.” Then he smiled faintly, expressing his gratitude. “But thanks for letting me know.”

Myles nodded in acknowledgement before turning to look at Tara. When he spoke again, his voice held a note of sorrow. “Now…”

“Now she’s alive,” Jack said firmly. “That’s enough.”

“For me,” Myles agreed. “I’m not so sure about her. How is she…” His voice trailed off as Tara shifted on the bed and opened her eyes.

“Can’t a girl get any sleep around here?” she asked softly. Then she smiled as she saw the expressions on the two men’s faces. “Kidding…I’m kidding. Hi Jack.”

“Tara,” Jack said as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Sue’s coming by in the morning. Is Myles taking good care of you?”

“I’m fine. I think a few of the nurses might be ready to kill him, but we can just chalk that up to his charming personality.” She was out of air before she finished the sentence. Myles reached out to her, but she waved her hand. “I’m okay.” She took several shallow breaths before speaking again. “More flowers, Jack? Myles could take lessons from you on how to treat a girl.” Her eyes twinkled at the blond man sitting beside her.

Myles snorted. “Lessons in overstatement is more like it,” he muttered under his breath.

Jack chuckled along with Tara, but he couldn’t help noticing how much the tiny spurt of laughter seemed to hurt her. After a minute, Myles got her a glass of water and helped her take a few sips. When she finished, she glanced wryly up at Jack. “Sorry.”

“For what? I’m just glad you’re better,” he replied soothingly. They talked for a little while longer, and then he stood to leave. “You rest, Tara. Try to keep Myles from harassing the nurses.” She smiled weakly in reply.

Once Jack had gone, Myles fluffed Tara’s pillow and said with some affront, “I hardly think that desiring to see you receive the best possible care falls under the category of antagonizing the medical staff.”

She took his hand in her own and stroked it gently. “It does if you threaten to have someone fired for not responding to the call button within five seconds.” Before he could answer, she said softly, “Myles, how bad is it?”

He deliberately misunderstood. “The nurse to patient ratio? Quite below standard, I assure you–”

“My injuries,” she said firmly. “How bad are they? What is it that nobody will tell me?”

He struggled with himself for a moment before replying. “You know one of the bullets perforated your lung, right?” At her nod, he explained gently, “Some of the tissue damage was severe; they couldn’t repair it as well as they would have liked. They had to remove part of the lung.”

She was trying hard, but her eyes were frightened. “What does that mean?”

He sighed. “Assuming that it heals well and you have proper physical therapy, you’ll be able to recover about ninety percent of your capacity in that lung. The other one, of course, is undamaged.”

It took her a minute to accept that, but finally she nodded. “What else?”

He wasn’t sure this was a good idea right now; the doctors had said not to upset her. “Why don’t you get some rest? We can talk about this later.”

She waved her hand at the cast on her left leg. “I’m assuming it has something to do with this?”

He wanted to refuse, but he couldn’t. She needed the truth. “The other bullet shattered your knee. The doctors did what they could to repair it, but you’ll never regain full range of motion.”

Her eyes never left his face. “Will I be able to work?”

“Tara–”

The look she gave him was uncompromising. “Can I go back to work?”

He ached for her. “No. Not as an agent.”

She sat in silence for several seconds and then tears started running down her cheeks. She made sad little rasping sounds as she tried to cry…her poor lungs couldn’t keep up with the strain. Myles’ heart broke as he realized yet again how much had been stolen from her; she couldn’t even cry. “Shh…sweetheart. I knew this was a bad idea; I shouldn’t have told you yet.”

She shook her head, trying to control her breathing.

He felt useless again, helpless to stop her pain. “Where’s that ridiculous bear? The one the nurses gave you?” He looked around until he found the little stuffed toy lying on a shelf. Grabbing it, he brought it to her and wrapped her arms around it. “Here, hug this. Come on, sit up.” He gently leaned her forward and slipped in behind her on the bed. Once he was settled he pulled her against his chest and held her as tightly as he dared, helping her fight through the pain. Running his fingers through her hair, he whispered anything he could think, soothing her until she had relaxed as much as she could.

When she spoke again it was complete nonsense, of course. “My bear is not ridiculous.”

She needed some time; he could understand that. “He’s not fluffy. Bears are supposed to be fluffy.”

“He has to be tough so that I can hug him. That’s the whole point, to give me something strong to hold onto when I need to cough.”

If that was the only requirement, he was more than willing to apply for the job. Still, he played along. “Proper bears are fluffy. Besides, he’s too little. You’d think with the money they’re charging for this private room, they could afford to give you a bigger bear.”

She smiled, delighting him with just a little of her own natural spirit. Leaning against him and turning her face toward his, she whispered, “Well, I guess you’ll have to bring me another one.”

The brush of her lips against his cheek caused him to think some things he had no business dwelling on while she was sick. He started to pull away…until he saw the look in her eyes. Oh, sweetheart… Leaning down, he captured her lips in a gentle kiss that quickly grew passionate. When they finished several minutes later, she was breathless again; for that matter, so was he. Myles was surprised that none of the nurses had come in to check on the unusual numbers being recorded on the monitors. He was worried that he might have pushed it too far, but she was smiling at him, her eyes shining. “Thank you.”

He knew what she was trying to say. “Thank you. Tara…I love you. Now, always, no matter what happens next.” He stopped, uncertain how to express what she needed to hear. Apparently he had said enough; she snuggled against him and pressed her lips against his jaw in a kiss that was very much the caress of a woman and lover. Wounded, but not damaged. Hurting, but not hopeless. Marveling yet again at her spirit, he leaned back on the bed and pulled her to rest on top of him, stroking her hair. She was fragile and brave and vibrant…and she was his.

Inova Fairfax Hospital
Falls Church, VA
May 16
9:05 a.m.

Tara watched curiously as Myles paced around the room, stopping periodically to frown at the clock. “Are you expecting someone?” she asked softly.

“Hm?” He gave her a bland look that did nothing to relieve her suspicions.

“Myles–” A knock on the door interrupted her. She watched in amazement as Myles rushed over to the door and dragged Lucy into the room.

“You’re late,” he said shortly.

“There was traffic!” she replied defensively. “Hi, Tara. You feeling okay this morning?”

“Better.” Tara studied the other woman’s face, looking for clues. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Myles needed a favor, and I figured it had to be pretty important if he was willing to call a relay operator to get to Sue.” Lucy looked at Myles. “She said to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t help; things are a little busy for her at work right now.”

“Anything serious?” Myles asked.

Lucy shook her head. “Just paperwork. Anyway, here I am.”

He held her gaze. “Thank you.”

Slightly uncomfortable, Lucy replied, “It’s no problem. I just want to know what you’re planning.”

“Yes, what are you planning, Myles?” Tara asked from the bed, her eyes narrowed.

Myles took a deep breath. “You’ll see in a few minutes.” He cast another worried glance at the clock. “A very few minutes. We should get started.”

Lucy held up the bag she was carrying and grinned at Tara. “Everything to make a lady feel less like a hospital patient and more like an attractive, vibrant woman.”

Tara looked at the two conspirators with alarm. “Myles…”

He moved to her side and reached out to cup her cheek with his hand. “Trust me?”

She looked into his eyes and grinned. “Not for a minute.”

He smiled in return. “You’re a very intelligent woman.”

“Thank you.” A dramatic look crossed her face as she said quite theatrically, “I’ll cooperate…for now. Do your worst.”

Myles clapped his hands together. “We don’t have much time. Lucy?”

“Got it.” Lucy walked over to the bed, stopping as she noticed the stuffed animal sitting in the chair by the window. “That’s the biggest teddy bear I’ve ever seen.”

Myles shot a sideways glance at Tara. “It’s fluffy, too.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She glanced at Tara and Myles, some of the old awkwardness returning to her features. Tara waited, wanting so much to help but knowing she couldn’t. They would all have to learn to handle this; Lucy was her friend, but Myles was her life. After a moment Lucy shook off what was bothering her and smiled. “Let’s start with the face cream.”

Tara shrank back against the bed. “Face cream?”

Myles grabbed her hand, unrelenting. “You promised,” he reminded her. Glancing up at Lucy, he asked, “Did you bring a hairbrush?” Ignoring the strange looks he was receiving from both women, he took the brush Lucy offered to him and began to gently smooth Tara’s hair.

After Lucy recovered from her shock, she went to work with cosmetics and sponges. Tara had to admit that the face cream was refreshing. Finally Lucy leaned back and said, “There. You’re all done, and you look beautiful.”

Tara grinned at her skeptically. “Thanks, but nobody looks good in a hospital gown.”

“I have a remedy for that little problem,” Myles said softly. A moment ago he had slipped over to the other side of the room and was now standing by her bed holding an elegantly wrapped box.

“More presents?” Tara asked.

“I can’t let Jack woo you away with all those flowers,” he said with a crooked little smile.

She reached out to take the box from him, her eyes never leaving his. “Not a chance,” she whispered. Lucy occupied herself with putting away the beauty supplies while Tara unwrapped her gift. She sighed as she removed the coral dressing gown from its box. “Myles, it’s gorgeous!”

“Then it’s worthy of you,” he said quietly. “Let me help you put it on.”

It took some maneuvering to get it around the medical equipment, but finally Myles eased the gown around her shoulders and leaned down to press a soft kiss against her lips. He started to say something, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Lucy said.

Myles smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “You do that,” he murmured, turning to watch in anticipation as Lucy walked to the door.

Lucy opened the door and almost fainted from surprise. “Mr. President!”

Zachary Winfield smiled at her. “So I’ve been told.” When Lucy continued to stare at him, he prompted, “I’m looking for Tara Williams?”

“Oh…of course! Won’t you come in?” Lucy shot Myles a look promising retribution as she stepped aside to allow the President and his bodyguard to enter the room.

Myles chuckled under his breath and hurried to Lucy’s rescue. “Mr. President,” he said, holding out his hand.

Winfield took his hand in a firm grip and gave Myles a look of warning. “We’re not in the Oval Office now.”

Myles smiled. “Zach. Thanks for coming. Allow me to introduce Lucy Dotson.” He then walked over to the bed and placed his hand on Tara’s shoulder. “This is Tara Williams.” His face was apprehensive, the desire for his friend’s approval blatantly obvious.

The President greeted both women, smiling at Tara as he remarked, “You’re every bit as lovely as Myles said. By all accounts you’re also quite smart, which leaves me to wonder how you got tangled up with this rascal.”

Tara laughed and said softly, “He’s a good man.”

Something flickered in Zachary Winfield’s eyes at that; he seemed to relax infinitesimally. The smile he gave her this time wasn’t the practiced gesture of a politician but the unreserved expression of pleasure from a friend. “Yes, he is.” He turned to Myles with a teasing glint in his eye and handed him the vase he had been carrying. “Why don’t you find a spot for the flowers while I chat with the ladies?” As Lucy and Tara laughed, Myles took the vase, muttering something under his breath about flowers and other men.

Tara asked about the children. “They’re both doing well” Zach replied. “Jeff has responded to the antibiotics and should be able to leave the hospital soon; Maddy will take a bit longer because of the novel treatment. Jean said to tell you that she was sorry she couldn’t visit, but she felt like she needed to be with the kids.”

“Of course,” Tara said.

Myles smiled as he watched Zach work his magic on Tara, making her face light up as he told her stories. At some point, Madison’s name was brought up again. “Actually, Myles, I have a question for you.” The President turned to glare at his friend. “Who is this ‘Uncle Crash’ that Maddy keeps asking about? Ever since the rescue she keeps saying that Uncle Crash gave her lemonade and promised to take her to Australia some day to see the kangaroos.”

Lucy laughed, delighted. “I think you might have some competition in the favorite uncle category, Myles.”

Myles grimaced. “Maddy is referring to Agent Bobby Manning; he’s with our team. He carried Maddy out of the building during the rescue.”

“Should I trust him with my daughter?” Winfield asked.

“No!” Lucy and Tara answered in unison, and they all laughed. Unfortunately, Tara’s lungs didn’t handle the extra activity very well, and she started to cough. Myles immediately moved to her and helped her sit up, getting her a drink of water once she was finished.

The incident had sobered the room. The President leaned over to take Tara’s hand, looking at her with serious eyes. “Maddy also talks about you quite a bit. I hope you can come see her when you’re feeling better.”

“I’d like that,” she said softly.

“I have a gift for you,” Winfield said, reaching into his coat pocket.

“Another one?” grumbled Myles, who was quickly hushed by Lucy.

Tara gave the President a brilliant smile. “Don’t worry about him; he’s just jealous.” She accepted the small package and opened it. “Oh…”

It was a black and white photo of Myles and Maddy, displayed in a simple silver frame. Myles was holding the girl above his head and smiling up at her as she laughed; the camera had captured the pair’s absolute delight in each other.

Myles looked at the picture, embarrassed and obviously pleased. “From Maddy’s birthday?” he asked Zach, and the other man nodded.

Tara gently stroked the frame with her fingertips. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Zachary Winfield studied her for a moment before speaking again. “Ms. Williams…Tara. I know you’re going to hear lots of things in the next few weeks…words like honor and bravery, speeches about saving the lives of thousands of people. All I can tell you today is that as a father, I’m very, very grateful for what you did. Thank you. Thank you for saving my little girl.”

Tara looked at him as tears filled her eyes. “You’re welcome, Mr. President. I would do it again.” Then she was unable to speak anymore.

Winfield seemed a bit misty himself; he cleared his throat and left just a few moments later, but not before Myles gave him a deep look of gratitude.

As soon as he was gone, Lucy began gathering her things. “I have to go too. Myles, thanks for the chance to meet the President; just wait until I tell Sue what she missed!”

Myles pulled away from Tara long enough to say, “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Lucy shook her head. “No thanks; I need some time by myself. Get better, Tara; I’ll come back to see you soon.” She gave Myles a beautiful smile and gently touched his arm. “Not so bad, Myles.”

Myles closed the door after her and turned to look at Tara hesitantly. She smiled at him and opened her arms; relieved, he walked to her and pulled her into a warm embrace. She leaned against his shoulder and whispered, “Not bad at all.”

Dotson/Thomas Apartment
Washington DC
May 28
9:15 a.m.

She woke up when the sun from the window touched her face. Turning to look at the clock, she frowned. It was Saturday, but Levi didn’t usually give her a chance to sleep in. Lucy must have gotten up early and taken him for his morning walk. And something smelled really good…

She noticed an object pinned to the pillow beside her and completely lost her train of thought. Sitting up quickly, she turned on the light by her bed to get a better look, running her fingers gently over the blue satin ribbon that was tied around a beautiful platinum engagement ring. My ring…

“Jack?” she called. Removing the pin, she gathered the ribbon and its precious cargo in one hand and hurried out of the room. As she walked down the hall, she noticed the wonderful smell again and followed it into the kitchen. She looked at the table, which was covered with food, beautiful china, and flowers. “Wow…”

“I think you stole my line.” He was looking at her with hunger in his eyes, and she realized suddenly that she had forgotten to put on a robe. Blushing, she turned to flee to her room. He rushed to her side and gathered her in his arms. “Don’t leave.”

“I should get dressed,” she protested, embarrassed.

“Not yet. Just…give me a minute.” He held her, his eyes growing darker as he delicately touched the lace of her nightgown. “You are so unbelievably beautiful.” He captured her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss; when he at last broke away his jaw was tight with desire. “If you dress like this for bed all the time, I’m going to make a habit of showing up at your door at four o’clock every morning.”

She was still blushing, but she didn’t make any further effort to leave his arms. “I don’t dress like this all the time. Usually I sleep in something much more comfortable, but Lucy said she had to do laundry because Levi got into my dresser drawers last night – Lucy!” She glared up at Jack, demanding an explanation.

He smiled sheepishly. “I had a little help with breakfast, but I promise I didn’t know anything about your…about this.”

She glanced over at the kitchen table, but refused to be distracted by the promise of food. “No, somehow I can see Lucy arranging this part on her own to help you with your plan. What is your plan, by the way?” She dangled the ribbon in front of him as evidence.

He took the satin thread from her, untied it, and slipped the flawless ring into the palm of her hand. Nervous now, he looked into her eyes. “It’s yours; it always was.”

Her heart was filled with love and a slight bit of sorrow. “You bought it for me?”

He nodded. “The ring was real; my feelings were real. They still are.” When he saw tears fill her eyes, he quickly added, “If it brings back too many bad memories, we can get another ring. Or not get one at all…or pretend none of this ever happened…”

She reached up to gently place her fingers on his lips. “I love this ring; it’s exactly what I always wanted. I’m just sorry that I gave it back to you the first time. That must have hurt so much.”

He pulled her hand away from his mouth, pausing to kiss her fingers gently. “It doesn’t matter. We needed every step that we’ve taken to get to this moment.” He placed an open 5 hand firmly on the center of his chest. Then he put both 5 hands in front of his chest with his fingers straight and brought both hands towards his body, curling his fingers.

He continued signing, his eyes filled with love as he watched her face. She caught her breath as he patted the air with his open right hand, palm facing downward, in front of the right side of his body in a double arc movement. His face was serious as he concentrated, and tears filled her eyes as he signed the last few words:

He moved his right open hand, palm facing left and fingers pointing up, from the right side of his chin forward while turning the fingers forward,

He pointed to her,

He brought his right curved hand, palm facing down, downward in front of his chest to clasp the left curved hand, palm facing up,

And ended with his open 5 hand firmly on the center of his chest.

She was smiling as he finished, looking into his eyes as his words filled her heart:

"ME WANT MUCH WITH YOU. CHILDREN, LAUGHTER, WANT. US FOREVER. WILL YOU MARRY ME?"

“You worked at that,” she said.

He nodded. “I called Grace Covenant and got the name of the interpreter who worked with you while you were on assignment there. She taught me how to sign it weeks ago; I’ve been practicing ever since.”

“It was beautiful.”

His face was anxious but hopeful. “And?”

She held out the ring to him. “And I think you should help me put this on.”

His answer was a relieved, brilliant smile and a fierce hug. Then he took the ring from her and slipped it onto her hand, his own hands shaking. She found that she was trembling as well, overcome by this moment…a moment they had fought and loved and hoped for. “I love you.”

He tangled his fingers in her hair, tilting her head to give him a better angle. “I love you, too.” Then he kissed her, and they found everything they had ever wanted in each other.

Inova Fairfax Hospital
Falls Church, VA
May 28
3:30 p.m.

Tara smiled at Myles after Jack and Sue had left. “I’m glad for them; they seem so happy.”

Myles nodded. “Jack’s a lucky man. Thomas has way too much class for him.”

She laughed. “Be nice.”

He gave her a wounded look. Walking over to sit on the bed, he pulled her into his arms. “I’m always nice,” he said haughtily.

“Oh no, you’re not,” she argued. Too late, she saw the dangerous glint in his eyes. “Myles–”

Whatever she had been about to say was lost as he kissed her, bending her body gently against the pillows. When at last he ended the kiss, he was grinning triumphantly. “Nice?”

She hated to feed his ego, but it was impossible to lie. “Very,” she murmured, the corners of her mouth turning up in pleasure.

“Again?” Tara’s nurse chuckled as she walked into the room. “I think it’s a good thing that you’re going home tomorrow.”

Tara blushed and pulled away from Myles’ embrace. He wouldn’t let her go far, grabbing her hand in his own and intertwining their fingers. “So I really am going home tomorrow?” she asked. There had been some setbacks over the past few weeks. Despite the medical staff’s best efforts, she had developed a slight lung infection that had required a prolonged hospital stay. Tara almost couldn’t bring herself to hope that her ordeal, or at least the first part of it, was almost over.

“Tomorrow morning, as soon as the doctor signs your discharge papers.” The nurse checked Tara’s blood pressure and gave Myles a scolding look. “I just hope that your young man can control himself once you’re at home. You are recovering from major injuries, you know.”

Myles was still a bit flushed when the nurse left a few minutes later. “There are certain aspects of a person’s life that should remain private,” he grumbled.

Tara laughed. “It’s your own fault; you’re the one who keeps kissing me.”

He smiled down at her. “Well, if your appearance wasn’t so inviting…”

She glanced at her hospital gown, which was a bit large for her now. She’d lost some weight over the past few weeks; recovery hadn’t been easy. Shaking her head in disgust, she said, “Tell me another one, Einstein. Name one pleasant thing about my appearance.”

“You’re alive,” he said softly.

She looked up into his serious eyes. “Oh, you…”

“It’s enough,” he said. “It’s all I want.”

She reached up to kiss his cheek. They sat for awhile with her head against his chest, neither feeling the need for words. Finally she sighed. “I’ll need to talk to Garrett about hiring someone to help me at my apartment, just until I can get around better.” She looked up at him apprehensively, afraid of invading his privacy. “Would you mind staying with me until that can be arranged?”

He stroked her hair, his eyes cautious. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about that. Why don’t you move in with me for awhile? As a guest,” he said hurriedly when he saw the expression on her face. “I’ve fixed up the guest room on the first floor so you won’t have to worry about the stairs. You can use the pool for physical therapy, and I’ll hire a nurse.” Seeing the doubt on her face, he continued, “Or you can have Garrett arrange for one.”

She stared at him, wanting with all of her heart to agree, and yet not sure that it was a good idea. “Myles…”

He cupped her cheek with his hand. “Tara, are you going to be the mother of my children?”

The question left her speechless. She looked up at him, searching for even the slightest hint of amusement or derision. All she found was love and overwhelming tenderness. His eyes betrayed his nervousness, and it gave her the courage to answer, smiling at him without reservation. “I sure hope so.”

Something flashed across his face, giving her just a glimpse of the private man who was hers alone. He kissed her gently. “Then let me take you home. Let me take care of you.”

She looked into his eyes and saw her forever. “Yes,” she whispered. When he kissed her again she met him eagerly, wrapping her arms around this man who was the other half of her soul.

This story is written in memory of my grandparents, Leonard (1913-2002) and Maxine (1915-2004). Wait for me; I’ll meet you on the other side of Glory.


Epilogue – Fifty-one years later

“And with your final heartbeat, kiss the world good-bye,
Then go in peace, and laugh on Glory’s side…”

He stood looking at the wall in their library, the one with all the photos on it. He had teased her about being old-fashioned, reminding her that the advent of digital technology and all the other inventions that came after it made paper photographs obsolete. She had shrugged and said that sometimes the best memories were the traditional ones. She had covered the wall with pictures of them and the people they loved.

He reached out to touch a portrait of her on their wedding day, one of his favorite images of her. She had moved into his house when she left the hospital that day so very long ago, and she had never left. They had married just as soon as she was physically able. It had been a quiet ceremony because she was still recovering. The wedding had been held in his back yard, with only their family and closest friends in attendance. True to form, his parents had been reserved; hers had been welcoming.

Myles had been beside himself the day of the ceremony, sure that she would try to do too much. She had been pale and much too thin; even her simple ivory sheath of a dress had seemed too big for her. It hadn’t mattered; when she walked toward him on her father’s arm, determination and love flowing from her eyes, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Zach and Jean hadn’t been able to attend the wedding; the security measures would have been overwhelming. A few weeks later, he and Tara had been invited to the White House to dine with the family. Tara had held Madison in her lap and cried.

They’d talked to Garrett about the situation at work and had spent many evenings discussing it with Jack and Sue. In the end, Tara had decided to transfer to a different department, one where she had more opportunities to advance with her computer skills. It hadn’t been an easy decision for either of them, but she’d adjusted. They both had.

By some miracle of bureaucratic management, Jack and Sue had remained on the same team after they married. Sue had finally left the FBI when she and Jack had the first of their three children, a little girl. Sue had been pregnant with her second child at the same time that Myles and Tara had been expecting their son. Sometime during Tara’s fifth month Jack had called from the hospital to tell them about his newborn son, Jackson Samuel Hudson, Jr.

That had caused a bit of a ruckus in the Leland household. Myles had grumped around the house for three days, muttering under his breath. Finally his beloved wife had looked up from her computer and told him that if he didn’t knock it off, she really was going to name their son Tucker. She’d said it with the appropriate ferocity, but later that evening she’d crept into bed in a beautiful white nightgown and told him that she wanted the boy to carry his name, since it meant so much to him. His lips curved in a smile as he remembered the result of that particular evening. They’d had such a good life.

D had made supervisor and had lived quietly with his wife and children; he and Donna were currently enjoying the final days of their retirement. Anne…Myles still thought of his sister with pleased amusement. Anne had come home one evening with the startling news that she had married someone from her church and that she was moving to Texas, of all places, to start a missionary church in a border town. Phillip and Elizabeth had been horrified, of course, which had made it all the more enjoyable.

Myles had received letters from his sister describing her work. “When I first started out as an attorney, I truly thought I would be helping people. Maybe it wasn’t obvious, but the objective was there. Now I look into the eyes of these poor children who have nothing…Myles, you can’t even imagine…and I know that I’m doing the most important work God could ever ask of me.” She was still there all these years later, even though her husband had died ten years ago. One of the pictures on the wall was of Anne holding a baby from the orphanage she and her husband had founded. Myles was incredibly proud of his sister.

There had been heartbreak…and forgiveness. Lucy had married a marine she had been dating back when Myles and Tara had found each other; they had struggled with infertility for almost ten years. Lucy had spent more than one evening at the Leland home, weeping over her disappointment. Myles had been humbled to realize that he had somehow regained Lucy’s trust; she’d shared her sorrow with him just as easily as she had spoken of it to Tara. One day Myles had driven by himself to Lucy’s home and handed her a letter from his sister. “Just read it,” he’d said, and then he had left. A little under a year later, Lucy and her husband had welcomed five children into their home, siblings from Texas whose parents had succumbed to the lure of alcohol and drug abuse.

Myles reached out to touch a photograph that sat in a special place of honor on the wall. Bobby. Bobby had been killed forty-three years ago in a raid on a warehouse. It had been a day at work just like any other, except that one of their own hadn’t returned. The cheerful, good-natured agent had left behind Darcy, his wife of five years, and their infant son. Myles hadn’t been able to feel anything after it happened; he had prepared a mission report and attended the funeral with absolutely no outward display of emotion. The evening after the funeral he had slipped into bed beside Tara and made love to her almost desperately; if he could have climbed inside her skin, he would have. She had held him later as they both cried.

The Winfield photo always made him smile, even if it was bittersweet now that Zach and Jean were both gone. Jeffrey had served as a pilot in the Navy and was currently an admiral, working at the pentagon. Madison…Myles’ face revealed his pride. Ever her father’s daughter, Madison had just been elected to her second term as President of the United States.

Sometimes Myles looked around him and realized that all of his friends were dead or dying. That was hard; in his heart he still felt like the young Harvard graduate who had been prepared to set the world on fire. And now with Tara gone…he swallowed hard, trying to control his panic. He had been part of something more than himself for so long that he didn’t know how to be alone anymore. He was going to live with his son’s family, and later this year he was taking a trip to visit Jack and Sue. Still, it wouldn’t be the same. It would never be the same.

“Dad?” Will stood in the doorway, sympathy etched on his face. Myles studied his son lovingly; he looked so much like his mother.

That night in the hospital, Myles had surprised Tara by reaching for the birth certificate form before she could fill it out. When she’d seen what he had written, she’d lifted a brow. “William Myles Leland?”

He’d leaned down to kiss her. “This way he carries both our names.”

Her eyes had filled with tears and she’d caressed his cheek with her hand. “Underneath that arrogant exterior, you’re just an old sap.”

He’d grimaced. “Don’t tell anyone; my reputation could never withstand it.”

She’d laughed and gazed down at their son. “Welcome to our family, William.”

Myles closed his eyes, listening to the sound of her voice in his head. He would give everything he had to go back to that day, that one moment, and stay there forever. Will’s voice pulled him away from his thoughts. “The car’s packed, but if you need some more time…”

Myles shook his head. “No; I’m ready.” Reaching out one last time, he removed his wife’s wedding picture from the wall and tucked it in his pocket.

Will was watching him tenderly. “The housekeeper’s coming once a week; we can visit the house any time you want.”

“I know.” Myles followed his son out to the car, locking the front door behind him. He looked at his home, looked at the beautiful roses that lined the driveway, and accepted the gift he had been given. It hadn’t all been good, but it had been life. Walking to the car, he felt her presence one more time as the sunlight caressed his face. He looked up the sky and whispered to the woman he knew was listening. “I love you; I’ll be there soon.”

A/N: The lines of poetry that are interspersed throughout the story are from a beautiful song called Untitled Hymn (Come to Jesus), which was written by Chris Rice. I’ve taken some liberty with the meaning, but not so much that I think Mr. Rice would be offended.

You can find this story, and all of Rerio's other stories here in her archive page. Comments are always welcome!