The flickering of the dozens of candles, scattered here and there around the floor and the rim of the massive whirlpool tub, cast ethereal shadows on the walls of the loft bathroom, as Jax and Brenda luxuriated in the warm, pulsating waters and the thick blanket of jasmine-scented bubbles that surrounded them. Jax was sitting behind her and she was settled between his legs, her back to his chest. "Mmm… this is heaven," she purred, settling herself further back into his embrace, as his hands strayed up under the bubbles to caress her breasts.
"This is better than heaven," he whispered, trailing kisses from her ear down her neck, as he lowered his hands from her breasts to strafe lightly across her stomach, sending a shiver throughout Brenda's body. They had only known one another for a few, short days, but already Jax knew exactly where to touch Brenda to give the most pleasure - and to elicit the most response.
"You're right," she smiled, as he continued his sensuous massage of her body, "this is better than heaven."
Over the course of the past few days, Jax and Brenda had been nearly inseparable. They jogged together every morning, they explored New York together during the days, and they made love for hours and then fell asleep in each other's arms every night. Jax had effectively abandoned the Presidential Suite at the Plaza in favor of Brenda's loft, even conducting conference calls from there rather than trekking back and forth to the hotel. The only times they had been apart had been when Brenda had needed to meet with the editorial staff of a magazine to go over the proofs of some shots she had recently done for them and when Jax had finally taken his meeting with the executives of Kliner and Company that Addie had been forced to reschedule days before. The rest of their time had been spent enjoying the pleasure of each other's company and exploring each other's bodies, but now Jax wanted for them to take their intimacy a step further.
"I think I know every square inch of your body by heart," Jax said, whispering into her ear, as he continued to kiss her neck and move his hands sensually across her body, "but I want to know more - I want to know everything there is to know about you, Brenda. I want to know what makes you who you are. I want to know where you came from - where you're going… all about your past loves and future hopes…"
Despite the fact that his lips and tongue were dancing across her skin, Brenda stiffened at Jax's mention of past loves. She had managed to banish JD to the back of her mind for the past couple of days, and she didn't want to retrieve his memory now. Their time together and what JD had done to her by promising to love her forever was still too painful for her. She didn't want to think about that time right now - right now she just wanted to feel all the sensual pleasures that Jax evoked in her.
"What you see is what you get… Or don't you like what you see anymore?" Brenda asked suggestively, as she turned her body suddenly in the tub to face him, intentionally rubbing against him as she pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply, hoping to move his mind off this information exchange and back to a more enjoyable subject once more.
She was gladly sharing her body with Jax, but she wasn't sure she was quite ready to share her soul yet - if she'd ever be. She had shared too much of herself too quickly with JD, and then he had left her without a second glance, nearly shattering her life. For her own sanity, she had decided to keep this man at arm's length emotionally, while enjoying the intimacy of their physical relationship.
Reluctantly, Jax pulled away from her. "Brenda, I love what I see, and I love the incredible way you and I meld together physically. I've never felt this way with any other woman before in my life, and I would be the happiest man in the world if I could have you in my bed for the rest of my life, but I want more from you than just physical satisfaction… I want to know all of you, Brenda, and I want you to know all of me. You intrigue me, and I want to know what it is about you that's captured my senses so intently that I can barely go a moment without thinking about you. We're connected somehow, Brenda, and it goes beyond the physical - and you sensed that from the start, just as I did."
"I sensed that we'd make incredible lovers, and that was all," she responded frostily, as she unexpectedly moved to get out of the tub, but Jax grabbed her arms, pulling her back to him.
"You and I both know that you felt a much deeper connection than that to me. You admitted as much to me after the first time we made love. If you'd only been concerned with keeping this relationship on a physical level, you wouldn't have cared that I was not there when you woke up that day. But instead, you appeared terrified when it looked like I'd made love to you and then just left you." He watched as Brenda tried to avert her eyes from his, but he tipped her chin up so that he could see into her eyes that were now luminous with tears. "Brenda, why is it that you can share your body freely with me, but you're afraid to share any other part of yourself with me?"
Brenda blinked back her tears and tried to sound flippant as she answered, "Most men would be thrilled to have a sex-only relationship - no strings attached."
"I'm not most men, Brenda!" Jax replied, his voice reflecting the rising level of frustration he was feeling at her sudden casualness about what was developing between them "I want more than that with you, and I thought you wanted more than that with me, too. If I only wanted sex, there are lots of women here in New York I could be spending time with. I've always been satisfied with those kinds of relationships before, but not this time. I don't know why, but with you I want more. I want to know your innermost hopes and fears, and I want to share mine with you as well - if you'll let me." He cupped her face with his hands and looked directly into her eyes, wanting her to realize the seriousness of what he would say next. "I've never felt anything like this for another woman in my life - I think I'm falling in love with you…"
Brenda felt an uncontrollable panic rising in her now. He made her feel the same way JD had - he touched her deep inside, no matter how she tried to deny it, and she knew that the longer they were together, the deeper that bond would grow. She had to stop this before it went any further. She couldn't allow herself to fall in love again. "Don't say that! You can't love me; you don't even know me!" Brenda cried as she shuddered slightly, remembering JD telling her that he loved her. He had told her that over and over again, repeating the lie up until almost the moment he left her. He had used those words to control her, to make her want him, to make her believe in him - to believe in them - and when he had her complete trust and love, he had vanished, without a word and without a trace. She had played the fool once for a man, but never again! Once again she moved to get out of the tub and away from him, and once again he pulled her back to him.
"Brenda, I want to know you. That's what I've been saying all along. I want to explore the very real possibility of there being more to us than a casual affair. I want something more permanent between us and I think we could have that, but how can I be sure of that if you won't let me know more about you?" he asked, his azure eyes pleading with her to explain something - anything - to him.
Once again she pulled away from him and stood to get out of the tub, but this time he didn't try to stop her. He could see the near panic in her cocoa brown eyes, so he didn't press further. He merely watched her as she stepped out of the tub and wrapped one of the thick terry bath sheets around her and moved to return to the bedroom. As she got to the door, she turned and looked at him, and Jax couldn't decide if her gaze was one of anger or fear. Probably a mixture of both, he decided, as she finally spoke to him.
"I think it would be best if you moved back to the Plaza," she said, her voice controlled, but Jax could hear the edge of panic in it. "We've both enjoyed what we've had together, but let's call it what it really was - a glorious, three-day affair, and I think it's useless to try to read more into it than that. I'm sorry if I led you to believe that there could ever be any more than that between us, but trust me, there can't be. I have no desire to share all of myself with you - or with any man."
She took a deep breath and opened the door, before continuing, "You seem to have woven some sort of a forever-after scenario around our meeting and what's happened between us since then. But I can assure you that there are no such things as fairy tale endings in life, and it's pointless to take this further, looking for one. I'm sorry, but I think that perhaps we shouldn't see each other anymore - for both of our sakes." With that she left the bathroom, allowing the door to drift slowly shut behind her.
Jax sat there, staring at the closed bathroom door after she left, dazed by the whirlwind of events that had just occurred. Less than an hour ago, they had been making love - not merely having sex, but truly making love, in his estimation - and less than fifteen minutes ago they had been happily ensconced in each other's arms and whispering tender endearments to one another, but now they were finished altogether? Brenda totally mystified him. She had had no problem with the uninhibited sharing of her body with him, but she viciously guarded her heart and her past.
He thought back over the bits and pieces he had been able to glean from her about herself, and he realized that all of her defenses went up at the mention of emotional attachment. There had to be a logical reason for her fear of emotional intimacy, and he intended to ferret it out. He glanced back at the closed bathroom door that led to her bedroom, where he knew she was dressing and probably already packing his things, as well. "Who hurt you so badly that you're afraid to know love again?" he whispered.
His mind drifted to the Plaza Hotel and the packet from Peterman and Associates that Tom Peterman himself had dropped off the day before. In it were all the secrets that Peterman had been able to unearth on Brenda Wilding. He had thanked Mr. Peterman for his time and had paid him then and there for his work, but Jax had declined to read any of the information Peterman's agency had gathered for him on Brenda, preferring instead to have her tell him about herself. But she had refused, and not only that, she had made it clear that whatever had been between them could go no further. Perhaps it was time to read that report, after all.
His mind also flashed to the book and the picture she had tried to hide from him that first day. He had only seen a glimpse of the picture, but he had thought it looked like it was of a man. Both the book and the picture were obviously important to her, and he had the feeling they could be useful to him in trying to unravel the mystery that surrounded her. He'd find out soon enough, he decided, as he recalled where she had placed the book containing the picture - top shelf, thirteenth book from the left…
Jax narrowed his eyes as he stepped out of the deep tub, grabbing his bath sheet from the floor nearby and wrapping it around himself. "You're not getting rid of me this easily, Brenda," he said softly. "There's something between us, and you know it as well as I do - no matter how hard you may try to deny it. I can't let that just die now. Something in your past is preventing us from having a future, and I intend to find out what that is and help you work through it. I told you before that I was persistent when it comes to something I want, and I definitely want you - and you're going to find out just how persistent I can be."
It was 8 a.m. in this time zone and far too early for hard liquor, but he didn't give a damn. Liquor was all he had to warm his soul these days - or what he had left of a soul. He realized that he'd lost his soul years ago, when he'd signed on with the Agency and signed away his life in the process. He ran a beautifully tanned hand through his thick, dark hair, as he sat, Scotch in hand, staring wearily out the window of the first-class section of the 747 that was taking him back to the New York - and back to her. Or the little he had left of her - the reports and the pictures of her everyday life, his memories of the brief time they had together, and that occasional glimpse of her he stole when he knew no one was watching him. Even though he couldn't let her know he was there, he would stand in the shadows and watch her. He had done that a lot over the past four years. She was the only reason he had for living. The thought of her kept the fire in what was left of his heart - the part he hadn't left with her all those years ago.
He had hated leaving her then, and these days he hated leaving New York because it meant he was further away from her. He'd been gone three weeks this time, and he'd been unable to find anything out about her for the past several days. Andrew had told him that things had been quiet for her lately, which is why nothing had been faxed to him recently in Hong Kong. He realized now how much he counted on those regular reports on her for his own peace of mind. He hated that he had been reduced to spying on her, but he needed to make certain that the Agency was fulfilling their part of the bargain - and also he couldn't let go of her completely, and this was one of the only ways he could safely stay connected to her.
As long as he knew she was safe, he would stay with the Agency and keep his distance from her. And he trusted Andrew to insure her continued safety. Andrew had saved her once before, which is why he had encouraged him to continue this loose surveillance of her that the Agency had begun years before. It was nothing invasive - no hidden microphones in the apartment; no continuous tail on her; no infrared cameras with telephoto lenses taking pictures through her apartment windows. It was merely the occasional picture of her going about her routine - working, running, shopping, dining with friends - along with the reports of any gallery exhibitions she might have scheduled or any problems she might be having.
He knew nearly everything about her from those reports - except what she felt in her heart. Did she hate him for what he had done to her - or did she still love him the way he still loved her? He did know from those reports that she rarely dated, and, in the nearly four years she had been there, no man had ever spent the night in her apartment, and for that he was secretly grateful. He wanted her to get on with her life, but a part of him wanted her to miss him as much as he continued to miss her.
God, how he missed her! He longed to see her again, but more than anything, he longed to hold her, to touch her, to kiss her, to make love with her again. He knew that was impossible, but that didn't stop him from wanting it, nonetheless. No other woman he'd been with since her had been able to quench his desire nor make him forget her, and at times he wanted her so much that he physically ached for her. It had been four years since he'd been forced to give her up, and that ache had not diminished in the least.
He had always assumed that eventually he would heal and she would be just a distant memory in this thing he called his life. But she hadn't become that for him yet, and he doubted she ever would. She wasn't just a part of his life; she had become his life in that short span of time they were together that summer. She had touched something within him that had never been touched before by anyone - and would never be touched again by anyone else. She had given herself freely to him - body and soul - and in so doing, she had stolen his heart, and he knew that she would always have it.
They had been an improbable couple, and he still marveled that they had fit so perfectly together, despite their differences. She had been barely more than an innocent child, while he was a man of the world. She was a dreamer, while he had always been a pragmatist and a cynic. But she had awakened the romantic in him that he had never known existed, and he wanted that back again as much as he wanted her. She had dreamed of castles and happily-ever-after, and he had promised to be her Prince Charming and to love her always and to slay all their dragons and lay the world at her feet - and for a fleeting moment in time, he had believed that he could. But his "job" had been the fiercest dragon of them all, and he had allowed it to destroy them and what could have been - what should have been…
He downed the last of the Scotch and leaned his head against the window, closing his eyes, remembering... He hadn't wanted to leave her like that, and he had never intended to leave her forever, but the Agency had other plans, and he had reluctantly returned to it. He had done it to save her life, he reminded himself over and over again. She was alive because he loved her enough to let her go. They had promised that as long as he stayed faithful to the Agency, she'd be safe - and he had to believe that, in order to go on with what was left of his life. He had tried to defy them once before, but they had given him a glimpse of what would happen if he tried to leave again, and that warning had been more than enough to keep him in line.
He had known from the beginning it would be difficult to extricate himself from the Agency, but he had not realized it would be impossible. So he had allowed himself to dream of a future for them, and to even set those plans into motion. He hadn't been able to share much with her, for her own safety - not even his real name - but he had shared that he lived in New York, and she told him about wanting to someday have her own studio in the Village there.
He had several real estate holdings in New York, including a building in the Village that was almost identical to the one she described in which she hoped to one day work and live, so he intended to surprise her by remodeling the top floor of that building. It had plenty of floor space and lots of windows, and he knew it would be perfect as their first home and her studio. He listened to every detail as she talked of her favorite colors and her preferred furniture style and the fact that she wanted a big, well-equipped, modern kitchen because she wanted to learn to cook one day. He had laughed at that because she could barely boil water, and any meals that they did make for themselves in their little flat in Monaco, he had whipped together.
He had known almost immediately that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and he also knew that he couldn't continue as an agent and live the kind of life he wanted with her. For the first time in his life, he had wanted the kind of life his parents had - committed, loving, and always together. He even allowed himself to dream of a family with her, but he knew that none of that would be possible as long as he remained with the Agency. They wanted their field agents unattached, with no close personal ties to anyone, and up until he'd met her, he had fit the bill perfectly.
He had family, but they rarely saw one another, and they allowed each other their privacy in their own lives, so he wasn't even missed when he was sent on long missions. He was also independently wealthy, which allowed him to travel to all sorts of exotic locales and to blend in as just another bored playboy, looking for excitement, when he was really there gathering intelligence or wreaking havoc of one sort or another. He had been the perfect agent, and he had loved the danger and the challenge of his life within the Agency - until he'd met and fallen in love with her. And then all he wanted was to be with her for the rest of his life and that meant leaving the Agency once and for all.
He knew that he would need help setting things in motion for his "retirement," so he had called Andrew Buxton, his mentor and his one true friend at the Agency, and the one person on whom he knew he could depend to discreetly help him get out of the Agency and arrange things for him and Brenda once they returned to the States. He laid out his plans to Andrew and asked him to personally supervise the remodeling of the loft in the Village and to make arrangements for him to become a civilian once again. And Andrew had come through for him as he always did. In less than a month, Andrew had managed for the work crews to transform the empty loft into the apartment he had envisioned for them to start their new lives in. But just before he was ready to tell her everything, things began to fall apart…
Andrew warned him when the Agency had become suspicious of the things he was doing for them, and Andrew suggested that he comply with any requests from the Agency to see him, should they arise, in order to allay their suspicions. Which is why he'd left her so abruptly that day when a fellow agent had called and asked to meet him in Paris to discuss the assignment they'd both been working on. When they made love that day, he had known that it could be their last time for awhile - possibly days - but he'd had no idea that it would their last time forever. When he closed his eyes, he could still see the love and the trust on her face as they had made love so fervently that day. He had told her over and over again how much he loved her and that he would die loving her - and that had been the truth. He still loved her as intensely as he did that day in Monaco, and he knew that her name would be on his lips when he took his last breath. He only wished she knew that.
She was rarely far from his mind and never out of his heart. He had sent her gifts through the years - and still sent her gifts regularly - but he always had them sent by way of their mutual friend, so she never knew they were from him. He had anonymously purchased all of her photographs that had been featured at the up and coming gallery in SoHo that handled her work exclusively, and they lined the walls of his Upper East Side apartment, but, once again, she had no idea that he was her benefactor. She lived in the apartment that he had arranged for her, but still she had no idea he was behind it. He did all of these things because he loved her, but she had no idea of any of it. Once he had been almost content to love her from the shadows, but for some reason he needed now, more than ever, for her to know the continued depth of his love for her.
He straightened in his seat as the thought of letting her know how much he still loved her played itself over and over again in his head. He had settled for loving her from afar for nearly four years now, but suddenly he felt this intense need to hold her in his arms once again and to explain why he did what he did - and most of all to tell her that he loved her - and to find out if she still loved him. But could he safely do that?
And just why the hell couldn't he safely pull this off? After all, didn't Andrew always tell him he was the Agency's best and brightest? Then certainly the Agency's best could find a way to dupe the Agency into believing he was following their edict, while he found a way to be with her again. Of course, he'd need help, which meant he'd need to rely on Andrew once again, but he knew that he could. The man always came through for him.
A sense of serenity seemed to settle over him as he sat there pondering all of this. He wasn't sure if it was true self-confidence or merely the Scotch he had drunk on an empty stomach that was making him feel this way, but at this point, he didn't care. He sat there, smiling as he continued to gaze out the window, willing the jet to fly faster so that he could get back to his love as soon as possible. For the first time in nearly four years, he felt a sense of hope that he and Brenda would once again be together - and not just in his memories or in his dreams…
Andrew Buxton took a deep breath and ran his hands through his thinning, white hair, as he sat staring at the steamy pictures spread across his massive, oak desk. He was trying without success to control his anger at the swarthy little man who had brought them to him. "I never authorized these," he said, his English accent clipped as his voice rose slightly with each successive word.
"You said to keep an eye on her; take a few shots of what she was doin' these days. And this - " the man answered, pointing to the pictures of Jax and Brenda making love, "- is what she's been doin'!" He sat across the desk from Andrew, grinning lecherously as he picked up one of the many pictures he'd taken over the past few days and let out a low whistle. "Not a bad way to make a livin' here - gettin' paid to see a beautiful woman naked and doin' all sorts of amazin' things with that body of hers," he said, letting out a low moan, as he practically drooled over the picture. "I have to tell ya though, it was hard keepin' the steam off the lens of my camera - and that's not the only thing that was hard on this assignment, if ya know what I mean!" he added, making a crude gesture toward the lower part of his anatomy.
Andrew grabbed the picture out of his hand and slammed it upside down on his desk. "Jackson - you're disgusting! I didn't want you to invade her privacy like this, and you know it!" Andrew shot back, wishing he had never laid eyes on this loathsome man - or initiated the surveillance of Brenda Barrett in the first place.
"Well, let's not be splittin' hairs here, Buxton. You been invadin' her privacy off 'n on from the get-go, and you and me both know it," Rick Jackson shot back, as he rose cockily to his full height of 5'6". He was tired of Buxton's self-righteous indignation, when they both knew it was Buxton who had ordered surveillance of one kind or another on Brenda Barrett AKA Brenda Wilding, from the day she set foot in the city, four years previously. "So you gonna pay me what I asked, or not? If not, I know where I could get a helluva lot of money for those shots. Not only is she one knock-out broad, but do you know who that is she's rollin' in the sack with?" Jackson asked, pointing to a close-up of Jax's face.
"Unfortunately, I do," Andrew sighed, the irony of the whole thing not lost on him, as he wondered how these two had met - and done this - without his knowing about it first? He had had a loose surveillance of Brenda for nearly four years now - nothing this blatantly invasive - but enough to know where she was and what she was doing at all times. And in all that time, she had never come close to allowing another man into her life like this, and now she had done it with him.
"So ya know the kinda money I could get out there, don't ya?" Jackson's nasally voice interrupted Andrew's thoughts. "I'm talkin' big bucks here, ya know? I mean, the guy's richer than God, yet he's somehow managed to keep his personal life and his face outta the tabloids, so the rags'll be fightin' to get ahold of these - even The Times would probably be willin' to shell out!… 'Course, a high-class paper like The Times would have to do some heavy croppin' in order to print 'em, but I'm sure they'd still want 'em! … This man's big news," Jackson added, thinking that this would induce Andrew to up the ante on the lot. But he was sadly mistaken.
Andrew stood, drawing himself fully up to his impressive 6'1" stature, and glared down at Rick Jackson with the most malevolence he had ever felt for another human being. Despite being 64 and at least thirty years Jackson's senior, he still possessed the well-built body that he had had as an active agent, and he was able to sufficiently intimidate the little man facing him. "You took these pictures while in my employ, and they are my property and no one else's! I will pay you the fee we had agreed upon previously and not a penny more. And for that price, I also expect that the negatives are all here and that you have made no other copies of these pictures that you plan to auction to the highest bidder," Andrew growled through his clenched teeth. "And if I find that you have allowed even one print to get into circulation, I will hunt you down, like the cur that you are, and take great pleasure in killing you myself! Do you understand me, Jackson?"
Andrew's eyes were aglow with the intense disdain he felt for this repulsive man who stood cowering in front of him. He hated using outside contracts like this, but the dirty work people like Jackson handled for the Agency here in the States was essential in keeping the Agency's fingers "clean" while still accomplishing their goal - whatever it might be. Jackson understood Andrew's definite threat and knew that Andrew would not hesitate to do exactly as he indicated he'd do - and he also knew that Andrew had the unlimited resources to back him in doing just that!
"Okay! Okay! It was worth a shot, wasn't it?" Jackson forced a laugh, hoping to extinguish the ire of the powerful man who stood ready to crush him if he pushed any further. Feigning defeat, he ran a hand through his slick, black hair and pulled an envelope containing the negatives from his bag and slid them across the table toward Andrew. "This is all of 'em - I promise, on my honor," he said, smiling a toothy grin at Andrew, hoping to appear sincere.
"Men like you have no honor, Jackson, and we both know it," Andrew spat out, as he pulled out an envelope containing a large wad of bills from a desk drawer and handed them to Jackson.
"Yeah - like men like you are so honorable in what you do!" Jackson snarled, as he grabbed the money and counted it silently. "Just remember the only difference between men like me and men like you is that men like me ain't afraid to own up to what we do. Besides, it's men like you who keep us lowlifes in business, now, right?" he added, smiling viciously at Andrew, knowing that he had hit dead-on at the very thing that angered Andrew more than anything - the depths to which he had to sink in order to keep things running smoothly overall. "It's been nice doin' business with you - again - Mr. Buxton." He emphasized the 'again,' to remind Andrew of the many past dealings they had had over this very same woman. "Until the next time, when you need my special services…"
Jackson laughed maliciously as he turned and left Andrew's office, slamming the heavy, oak door in his wake. He stood in the shadows of the darkened outer office, just beyond Andrew's closed door, and glanced around to see if anyone else were prowling around the Agency at this ungodly hour of the night, and then pulled a picture of Jax and Brenda, in the most intimate of positions, out of his pocket and laughed. "Watchin' you, beautiful, has given me some great money in the past, but it ain't nothin' like it's gonna give me in the future!" He kissed the picture and then jauntily strode toward the elevator, whistling as he made plans for the bright green future he envisioned before him.
After Jackson left, Andrew sank wearily into his leather chair and turned and stared out the window of his darkened office at the lights of the city below, remembering how all of this had started in the first place, four years before…
JD was one of their best - he didn't know the meaning of the word 'impossible,' and he had brass balls when it came to taking chances and pulling them off. He had just come from setting up a very crucial sting in Central America and he was taking a well-deserved few weeks off, vacationing in Europe, before heading back to continue that assignment.
Since Andrew was JD's handler in those days - JD's liaison with the faceless higher-ups in the Agency - he was taking a few days off then also. Andrew had once been a field agent, like JD, until he'd been forced to take a less active role when he'd developed heart trouble at the age of 48. After that - and before he'd become the assistant bureau chief - he'd been the handler for a select few agents, but none had been as bold or as bright as JD - or as effective. He had never failed in any assignment, and the Agency foresaw big things ahead for both JD and Andrew, as they both left for their respective vacations that spring of '95. Things looked bright for everyone, but then Andrew had received that call from JD, barely two weeks into JD's time off…
"I need your help, Andrew," JD began, and immediately Andrew figured JD had been caught in bed with some rich socialite and he needed Andrew to send him more false documents to make it discreetly out of the country before the woman's extremely jealous husband made him a gelding. But he was totally unprepared for the request that JD made of him.
"JD, do you have any idea what time it is here in New York?" Andrew asked sleepily, as he glanced at his alarm clock that read: 1:47 a.m.
"Sorry about that, but it can't be helped," JD apologized. "I need for you to start on something for me as soon as possible."
"Let me guess - you need a new set of forged documents in order to flee some irate husband, whom you've cuckolded," Andrew retorted, failing to keep the faint note of annoyance out of his voice. He loved JD like a son, but at times the man was totally exasperating!
He heard the rumble of JD's rich laughter on the other end of the line. "Not this time, Andrew. This time it's something really important - life-altering, in fact."
That got Andrew's full attention, and he was immediately awake. "What are we talking here, JD - national security or world security?"
"Neither - it has to do with securing my future happiness," JD said enigmatically. "I want you to help me leave the Agency, effective immediately. But I don't want the Agency to know until I have everything in place."
"What?! You can't be serious!" Andrew practically shouted into the phone. "You are the best at what you do, and you love it - the challenge, the danger, a new woman in every new country. Just a few weeks ago you told me that you only felt alive when you were on assignment, and you didn't think you could handle these few weeks of forced vacation - and now you want out altogether? What brought about this change of heart?" he asked, thinking that he had to be in some bizarre nightmare because this could not be happening.
"I think I loved the danger and the excitement of it all because I had nothing else in my life then, Andrew - nothing else that had my heart and soul - until now," he answered, and then Andrew held his breath, as he realized what had happened to change JD's mind and heart. "I'm in love," JD had said, "and I can't imagine my life without her. I want to leave the Agency as soon as possible and settle down with her in New York - which is why I'm calling…"
JD had gone on to detail the instructions he had for Andrew, and Andrew had complied with all of them, but one - the one about absolute secrecy until JD had everything in place. Andrew's loyalty had to be first and foremost to the Agency, no matter how he felt about JD, so he had gone to his superiors immediately after JD called. They had told him to go along with JD for the time being. If they tipped their hand too soon - let JD know that there was no way they would allow their best and their brightest to retire at such an early age - he could merely disappear with the woman and never be seen again. Instead, they decided it best to lay the groundwork for JD's escape to domestic bliss, and then call JD back on assignment early, separating him from the woman, and letting him know that it was in everyone's best interest - the Agency's, JD's, and most importantly, Ms. Barrett's - if JD never again had contact with her again.
Andrew sighed as he remembered that time. He had been in the Agency for the past forty of his sixty-four years, and in that time he had been forced to do many unsavory things in order to keep efficiency and order among the ranks. But that summer, four years before, he had taken part in one of the most despicable things he had ever done in his life, and all to keep an agent under the Agency's thumb, but it was for the best in the long run, he rationalized. Because of his actions that summer, the Agency had kept one of its best agents and Brenda had stayed alive. And you were promoted to assistant bureau chief, weren't you, Judas? his conscience nagged.
He shook his head as he turned back around from the window to his desk and took another glance over the provocative pictures strewn there, wondering what course to take with them? He knew the reaction these would elicit if JD saw them. It would kill him to think that he had given her up only to lose her to this man, and he'd be out of here in a shot, trying to get to her again. JD had tried before to leave the Agency for her, but Andrew had managed to contain him then. JD was their best then, and Andrew had done what he had to do to keep him in line then. Since then JD had become even better - sharper, harder, more daring, almost heartless at times - and Andrew would do what he had to do to keep him now, more than ever.
That summer and the intervening years had hardened him as much as they had hardened JD, and he knew that he would not hesitate to do what was best in the long run once again, if it meant keeping JD in service to the Agency. He loved JD like a son and he had grown fond of Brenda through the years as well, but he knew what he had to do to contain this potentially volatile situation. He'd make sure that these pictures never saw the light of day and that this affair between Brenda Barrett and Jasper Jacks was stopped dead in its tracks. And if that didn't work, then he'd have to do what the Agency had been "threatening" all along - eliminate Brenda Barrett.