Saturday, April 25, 2015

S7: Chapter 11: Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot?


“Alright, start from the beginning,” Special Agent Alec Rafferty commanded as he pressed the record button on the audio device sitting on the table. He took a seat across from a handcuffed Yvette and rolled a thin toothpick around his lips, briefly pursing them in slight annoyance.

Yvette moved her arm and the sound of metal on metal echoed in the small room as she adjusted the cuff around one wrist with a groan. It was a nice break from the annoyingly ticking clock hanging above the door that seemed to be five minutes too slow. “I didn’t kill the President.”


“Bullshit! We have you on video fleeing the building shortly after shots were heard!” The other agent in the room bellowed from behind her. “You’d better start telling the truth or you’ll be watching your children grow up from inside your 8 by 6!”

Yvette blinked hard with a sigh, rolling her eyes before preparing to begin again. She’d already been sequestered against her will and then forced to sit tethered to a metal table in the hot box of the CIA headquarters. They’d better watch their tones if they expected full cooperation on her part. “As I was saying, I didn’t kill the President. What you and your partner witnessed wasn’t as it seemed. Do you want the truth?”


“I find that’s always helpful in these types of situations,” Agent Rafferty coolly replied. Slowly, he stood and backed up against the wall, analyzing every move Yvette made.

“The truth is I didn’t kill anyone. There was someone else in the room.”

“Do you mind elaborating?”

She thought for a moment, glancing down at the binds on her wrists and again sighed. “Get comfortable, Agent Rafferty. We’re going to be here for a while.”


 --Washington D.C.2 Days Earlier--

“Is everyone clear on their orders?” Brett asked as they rushed through the streets of the capitol city. “Finding Yvette and stopping her is our ONLY priority right now.”

“Brett, we got this, she’ll be ok,” Victor reassured his friend as he and the other members of the team prepared to storm Capitol Hill in search of their partner.

“Victor’s right, Yvette will be fine. I’d like to say she knows what she’s doing but at this point I gotta wonder what the hell is she thinking?” Dustin asked, straightening a hand through his hair.

“She’s thinking she’s tired of the constant back and forth and having to look over her shoulder,” Ryan replied with a sigh as he loaded his backup weapon. “I don’t blame her. It’s time someone put these people on notice!”

“Whatever is going through Yvette’s mind right now is going to get her hurt…or worse.”

“Don’t worry. Washington’s not a big place, BK, we’ll find her.”


Yvette parked her car across from Senator Jameson’s office. The place was abuzz with action as several members of his staff went about their day. It was an election year and a group of protestors stood outside his door, shouting different mantras about his lack of production, lack of leadership and even his lack of hair. No way was she sneaking into there today. Pulling off from the block, she adjusted her rearview mirrors as she noticed a black sedan merge into traffic behind her.


“So it begins,” she grinned to herself before rounding Dupont Circle. That didn’t take long. Fifteen minutes in the city and she already had a tail; one she was sure was Delegate sent. And here she thought she’d need to make a scene at the Senator’s to get their attention. Grabbing her phone, she quickly punched in her father’s number and waited for him to answer.

Yvie? Are you in Washington?

“Yep. And I’m already deeply involved in a game of cat and mouse. I need you to run a plate for me.”

Alright; ready when you are.

“It’s coming up,” she replied and maneuvered her SUV around the circle one more time, checking her rearview for the sedan to appear. “Kilo Romeo Lima 8 0 1.”



Ok, one sec,” Ethan replied as his computer went to work. “Have you run into your husband yet?

“No. Brett’s here, huh?”

Of course he is. He dropped the kids over to Scott’s and grabbed the team right after you got off the phone with him.

“I told him I didn’t want him here; to let me handle it.”

But you knew better than that,” Ethan countered. “Alright, that car belongs to the Federal Bureau of Investigation; they’re your people, Yvie.

“What? That makes no sense. Is it flagged for anything?”

As a matter of fact,” he responded, pulling up the next page. “The tag’s been reported stolen.

“That’s more like it.”

Who would steal a government issued tag?

“I’m sure I could name a few. Thanks, Dad. I’ll call if I need anything else.”

Alright, Yvie. Be careful.”


Yvette merged onto Massachusetts Avenue and watched the dark sedan do the same. Three car lengths back at a stop light at the intersection of New York and 6th street, Yvette carefully decided her next move before throwing a plan into action. Just as the light turned green, she swerved into the other lane and oncoming traffic, weaving her way through the mound of cars. Angry horns blared at her as the drivers all veered suddenly to avoid collision, creating a massive jam just behind her. Reentering the right lane, Yvette hit the gas gaining distance from her pursuers. Smiling as she saw the driver of the sedan get out of his car and throw his hands up in frustration, she turned for the on ramp to Interstate 395 and headed back to her hotel room to wait for night and the second half of her mission. 


Yvette parked a block away from Senator Jameson’s office and waited. Once she was satisfied the building was empty, she slipped from her car and started over. The plan was simple. Get in, plant a few bugs and a tracer and get out. Senator Jameson was the only Delegate member she could breach directly and she was confident he would lead her to the others. Five members had already been exposed but she needed the names of the last two and the one pulling the strings. Bypassing the alarms on the skylight had been the work of minutes. On her previous visit to the Senator’s office, she and Gabriel breached through the front door but Yvette was determined to not let history repeat itself.

And after what happened last time in his office, she came prepared for a fight. With a large weapons cache and a borrowed flak suit from Ethan, Yvette readied herself to enter the Senator’s office one last time. The latex body suit she wore was paper thin and she felt like she was naked. The tight material hugged her body like a second skin seemingly nothing more than a dusting of black powder. Ethan bragged that this suit was one of a kind and that light slid off of it like water off a duck. The suit felt so lightweight and flimsy that Yvette felt exposed. Yet the stretched material was not only sturdy but anti-artillery capable, although untested in the field. And in the dim glow of moonlight, the sheer, black body stocking made Yvette as invisible as a shadow.


Carefully, she lowered herself through the skylight into the second floor of the building, landing as quietly as a cat. She moved through the row of cubicles, using the darkness to her advantage. The building did not appear to be guarded, save the lobby’s rent-a-cop who was too involved in his Three Stooges reruns to give notice. It was the office of a public official. Technically, there was nothing to steal. But Yvette was here to leave something, not take. Standing in front of a cluttered desk covered with papers, folders and envelopes, Yvette retrieved the small zip case from her bag and began setting the bugs in place. Every phone, every computer and even the fax machine. 


Working her way up from the last cubicle to the main office, she placed the last device and stepped into the Senator’s office. The last piece was placing a tracer on the Senator’s computer that, once he enters his office, would duplicate itself onto his other devices giving her complete access to all of his private information. Nudging the mouse, she waited for the computer to wake from its sleep state and quickly got to work. After the end of the thumb drive lit up green, Yvette removed it and started out of the room, quietly shutting the door.


“Now I hope you weren’t planning on leaving without saying goodbye,” spoke a low, masculine voice from behind her. Her spinning heel kick connected with his jaw before she fully registered the voice.

She turned to find a man dressed in similar stealth gear on the floor beside the last cubicle. Tufts of his dark, black hair peeked out from beneath the beanie on his head. The combat ready gear he wore appeared cumbersome and heavy but Yvette knew from experience that was far from truth. In fact, the bulletproof suit was lightweight, durable and could withstand bullets as well as close combat knife attacks. He smirked watching her eyes scrutinize his attire. “My! You’re a spirited one!” he sang almost amused as he got to his feet, rubbing his chin. “And my night looks to be shaping up after all.”


“Who are you?” Yvette asked, settling into a fighting stance as she watched him pace a few steps back.
“The name is Dax and, apparently, you’re the reason I was hired,” he grinned at her as he removed a .44 Magnum from his side holster. Her eyes moved to the pistol and she watched as he cocked and released the hammer several times. “I gotta tell ya, I’m so happy you’ve stopped by. I’ve been out of my mind with boredom these last few months.”
“Sorry to hear that but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Oh, but, you already have,” Dax replied, tapping his gun against his leg as he watched her. He appeared to be sizing her up, deciding whether or not he could take her and if he’d dare attempt it. He stood six inches taller and outweighed her by about 120 pounds. If things were to go to blows, which he was confident his skills surpassed hers, he was sure to cause significant damage. Without another word, he dropped his weapon to the desk beside him and took three steps to the left.


“What are you doing?” Yvette hissed, feeling the grip of her own sidearm.
“As I said, it gets boring here. I figured a little light exercise could help to ease the tedium.”
Her mind raced through her options. None of which were good. She would need to eliminate the man who towered over her in a mass of muscles and confidence, something she had not attempted since her shooting; she knew she was rusty. Or, if she elected, she could find a way to escape the building. But if she left him inside and alive, he could easily destroy the devices she’d already planted or inform his bosses of her presence. Yvette had been inside the building far longer than she anticipated already. She needed to leave and she needed to figure out what to do with Dax. However, it was clear to her which option he supported.


“Ladies first,” he offered, allowing Yvette the opportunity to strike him before he likely decimated her body beneath his. She hesitated, still a little thrown by his suddenness to fight rather than shoot it out. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try,” he smirked, throwing his hands up. Just then, he charged forward. Yvette’s eyes opened in shock as she watched him barrel towards her. Thinking quickly she side stepped his lunge then, using his own momentum against him, locked her hand behind his elbow and flipped him headfirst into the wall of the cubicle behind her. Dax landed with a crash, scattering papers and office equipment to the floor.


“Is that all you got?” he chuckled, brushing himself off as if the tumble to his back was no big deal. Yvette’s anger got the better of her. Swinging around, she caught him with another spinning heel kick to the head. But as Dax fell back, he hooked a foot behind her knee and jerked her leg out from under her. Yvette fell hard, a jolt of pain ran up her spine to her skull, rattling her teeth.
Springing to their feet simultaneously, Yvette shot a fist at Dax’s temple but he ducked. Realizing too late it was a feint, he caught her knee under his chin and Yvette watched as his head snapped back, exposing his throat. Her hand shot out like a spear, jabbing his larynx. And just like riding a bike, it all came back to her. Quickly spinning, she kicked at his midsection as he staggered back into the cubicle wall again. 


Dax bounced forward, tossing quick punches towards her. One caught her on the right side and Yvette flinched and fell away. Capitalizing on the blow, Dax threw another punch, catching Yvette in the solar plexus and knocking the wind out of her. Grabbing her by the head, he brought her down onto his knee, and she fell back, taking an elbow to the face for good measure. Yvette fell to her back and Dax stepped to her. Swiftly striking up and out, he twisted in time to avoid a mule kick that narrowly missed rupturing a testicle.


Dax stumbled back as the blow struck him on his inner thigh and Yvette flipped to her feet. With cat-like speed, she lashed out with another kick, pounding her heel into his sternum like a sledgehammer. Dax doubled over, releasing a grunt of air. Yvette moved in, preparing to drop an elbow to the back of his neck but Dax caught her foot and spun her. Grabbing her by the throat, he locked her in a chokehold, squeezing the air from her lungs as she struggled to free herself. 


Her vision went white. Her lungs started to burn. Thinking fast, Yvette held on to his arm and reversed quickly, slamming Dax’s back into the wall but still he held firm. Leaning forward, she tilted his weight onto her back and dropped hard and sudden to the floor. Dax’s chin met with the crown of her head and he fell back and away. Noticing his gun sitting on the desk beside his head, he glanced towards Yvette before reaching for it. Yvette jumped to her feet and threw herself over the wall of a nearby cubicle just as Dax squeezed off a couple of rounds.


She counted the shots, 3…4…5…the gun clicked and she immediately shot towards him, unconcerned about the speedloader he’d retrieved from his belt. She grabbed his wrist, knocking the gun from his hand and brought him into a flying elbow. His head cracked against bone. Taking advantage of his daze, Yvette snatched a knife from Dax’s side pocket. And, with all of her strength, she stabbed him, making sure to pierce the material of his suit and entered just under his ribcage. The blade went so deep she could feel bone scrape against the edge before pulling it out, twisting it and plunging it in again. Dax gasped, grabbing at the wound as he fell to his knees in front of her. 


Moving behind him, she held the knife to his throat, jerked his head back by his hair and pulled the blade across from one ear to the next. Dax grabbed his throat, shocked at the realization of what was happening. He fell forward as a jet of blood squirted from between his fingers and landed in a pool on the floor. Yvette stared for a moment, watching the puddle spread as he drew his last breath. It was messy. She was hoping to get in and out without leaving a trace; so much for that.
“It came from in here.” She heard a voice just outside the door. 


Shit! The scuffle must have alerted the guard–and it sounded like he was bringing help. Grabbing her bag from beside the desk, Yvette rushed to the back of the room towards the ventilation shaft and hoisted herself up to the rafters. Quickly shimmying back through the skylight, she closed the window just before a flashlight beam illuminated Dax’s fallen corpse.
“Jesus! Call an ambulance!” the man yelled to someone in the hall as Yvette jumped from the rooftop and hurried towards her car. There was no time to check if she’d left anything important. No DNA, no fingerprints. She repeated in her head. Keeping her headlights off, she pulled out of the parking lot and hurried back to her hotel. If they didn’t know she was in town yet…they will by morning.


“Are you hearing this?” Dustin asked, turning the volume up on the police scanner beside his laptop. Victor, Ryan and Brett moved closer as they listened in on the emergency call.

1269 N. Street and 9th, all available units in the area please respond to emergency dispatch, ambulance en route. Suspect not on scene.
“What are we hearing?” Ryan asked, shrugging as Dustin lowered the volume again.

“That’s Senator Jameson’s office!” he exclaimed and watched Brett’s eyes widened.


“Let’s move!” Grabbing their gear, they hurried down to the Escalade and Brett threw on his emergency lights and sped quickly to the scene. The team arrived in time to watch the coroner pronounce. Several squad cars barricaded the street as two uniformed officers directed traffic. Pulling the truck to the side, Brett hopped out and flashed his badge to an officer standing in front of the yellow stream of tape. Locating a detective, identified by his Dick Tracy trench coat and scowl, Brett again showed his badge and pulled down his FBI placard on his lapel. “What do we have here?”

“‘We’?” the man asked, his brow raising as he brushed him off, unimpressed by Brett’s gold shield. 


“Look, I don’t have time for this. I am looking for someone who is on the verge of eliminating every person they deem a threat to national security and right now I don’t know the names on that list. I need to get to them before they make a bigger mess of an already shitty situation. So let’s skip the part where you puff out your chest and strut your peacock feathers like the big dog in the yard and you just answer my fucking question.”

The man took a breath and glanced at Victor, Ryan and Dustin standing behind Brett and nodded. “The DB’s name is Dax Clayton. He was hired on as a bodyguard for Senator Theodore Jameson’s security detail. Apparently there was a break-in where he encountered the, as of yet, unidentified subject. There was a struggle…a big one from the looks of the place. And Mr. Clayton’s throat was slit,” he replied, demonstrating with his finger across his neck. “It was pretty gruesome.”


“Any surveillance?”

“Nothing. It was all cut before the suspect entered the building. I don’t know who this person is you’re looking for, but from what I got out of there…he’s one tough customer. I’d watch my back if I was you.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Brett turned and started back to the truck. Pausing at the door.

“It’s already started,” Dustin sighed.


“And it’s going to get worse before it gets better. Dusty, run that name, see what pops up on this guy. Aliases, records, any known associates, anything you can find. One thing I know, he wasn’t hired for security detail. What bodyguard patrols a fucking building when the man he’s hired to protect is at home in bed?”

“What are you thinking?” Ryan asked, reaching the same conclusion. “That he’s a hitter?”

“Yeah. And I also think there’s more where he came from. We need to find Yvette. And soon.”


“More coffee?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” Yvette sat at the outdoor café, monitoring the tracer on Senator Jameson’s cell phone. Aside from the normal errands, breakfast with his wife, dropping the kids off at school, post office, and the library, he hadn’t gone anywhere out of the ordinary. His email showed no unusual activity and he hadn’t received any strange phone calls. She was just about ready to call it quits when the little red circle on the monitor started to move again. “Ok, here we go.” According to the blip on the screen, the Senator was entering a metro station parking garage near Howard Road. Hopping behind the wheel of her car, she pulled up her GPS and quickly started towards the address.


Yvette cut the engine and entered the bottom floor of the garage. Waiting, she listened for voices and heard the men on the level just above her. Moving closer with her listening device in hand, she concentrated on the men just ahead of her, hoping to identify them. Setting the device to record, she poked her head around the corner and could make out three men standing near a black sedan with government plates. Switching to her cell phone, she took quick shots of the scene, zooming in as close as possible. “Make this quick. I can’t be gone longer than 15 minutes or people will notice.” The voice was recognizable but Yvette couldn’t place it. The man kept his back towards her and she wasn’t able to see his face. 


“She was AT my office! You told me I’d be safe. That this…mercenary was the best! Well she beat him like a rented mule and you expected him to protect me?”

“Maybe he was having an off day, these things happen.”

“These things happen? SHE SLIT HIS FUCKING THROAT IN MY OFFICE! And where were you, huh? Sitting in your ivory tower, cheering her on?!”

“Calm down, you’ll be alright. Everything is still on schedule.”

“FUCK YOUR SCHEDULE! This is my life we’re talking about! And don’t tell me to calm down! You’re calm enough for the both of us!”

“What do you want from me, Jameson? It’s obvious the girl wasn’t after you, otherwise, we’re not having this conversation.”


“I want you to tell me just what the hell we’re going to do!? That little bitch is this close to undoing everything we’ve been working towards for the last ten years and all you can do is stand there looking smug and telling me everything is going to be alright? I mean what drug are you on?! She’s gunning for us, one at a time and I appear to be next! When was the last time you heard from Pierce? She and Ames disappeared about the same time! And Sullivan…I need assurances! I need to know that you and the rest of the Delegate are going to watch my ass when she comes knocking again!”

“We’ll take care of it,” the other unidentified man in their company replied. He appeared governmental. From his black suit and shades down to his disciplined stance and the vigilant way he kept checking the area. If Yvette had to guess, she’d say he was Secret Service.


Shit! She thought and felt her heart drop into her stomach. President Bahii was right. And she may not be out of the woods after all.

“You’d better! My ass isn’t the only one on the line here!”

“Are you threatening me now, Jameson? Because that would not be wise.”

“No. I am just reminding you what’s at stake here. If I go down, I’m not going down alone!” Jameson turned to leave. Just then, the suit pulled out a gun. Three shots echoed through Yvette’s headphones and she quickly snatched them off.

“What the hell did you do that for?”

“He was starting to get on my nerves. Besides, he was right. If Evans got to him once, she’d get to him again or any time she wants. He was a weak link and on the verge of cracking.”

“Jesus, Raymond, I can’t be found in the same place with a body! What the hell were you thinking?” the familiar voiced yelled and slammed the door to his car as he got in. “Take care of this!”


The ringing in her ears subsided and she listened as the suit made a call for help to clean up the mess. His voice seemed to be getting closer and Yvette realized he was on the move and she needed to go. But as she worked to gather up her items, the headphones fell from her hands, landing to the pavement with a clank. The footsteps stopped and she heard the man take a breath just on the other side of the column. Diving over the wall, she landed on the second floor platform and took off down the ramp. “YOU!” he yelled and gave chase.


He was too close for her to hop into her own car and get out safely so instead she chose the road. Rushing through a chain link fence, she noticed a group of men starting out of the building, one of them carried a motorcycle helmet and his keys dangled from his hand. Snatching the keys she moved cat quick towards the parked bike and started it up. “HEY!” the man yelled as he and his friends started over. But Yvette turned the ignition, squeezed the clutch and kicked up a cloud of dust and sped off towards Anacostia Drive and the onramp to Capitol Street.


Raymond snatched another employee from behind the wheel of a Ford F-350 and immediately started after her. Fighting through lanes of heavy traffic trying to keep up, he swerved into the oncoming lane, speeding around slow drivers to gain on her. Yvette raced quicker, weaving in and out of traffic and watching her tail grow smaller in her rearview. Her heart was beating fast. She’d lost the listening device but saved the chip in hopes of recovering the data. She needed a new way in. Jameson was dead. And the only person she had a name for now was the man racing behind her.


The wind was blowing at great speed, whipping her hair in her face. She was flying now. The road beneath her wheels whisked by in blurs of gray and yellow. The Delegate had picked up her trail again and this time they were determined not to lose her. She threw a quick look over her shoulder and saw the truck was only two car lengths behind her now. The blazing red of the paint grew brighter and brighter as he gained on her. She faced front again and gunned it. At these speeds, she felt certain if she were to crash, she would not walk away. Yvette glanced to the left and right, looking for an out. But there was traffic to one side and water to the other. Her only chance for survival was to lose him on the off ramp. Zooming in front of a paint van, she intended to do just that. 


“Wait!” Victor exclaimed, pointing towards the speeding motorcycle. “I think that was Vette!” Brett spun the wheel fast, making an illegal U-turn in the crowded intersection of Potomac Avenue. Throwing on his lights, the team joined the pursuit, barreling down the streets of Washington as the red pickup moved closer and closer to Yvette. Sirens blared behind her and she gave pause to have a look at the train of vehicles that added on to the chase.

“Goddamn it, Yvette! What are you doing?” Brett growled and swerved around a police cruiser until he was directly behind the Ford.


Turning quickly onto N. Street, Yvette skidded onto the sidewalk and listened as angry citizens cussed and screamed as they dove out of the way of the speeding motorcycle. She was heading towards New Jersey Avenue and the Capitol Riverfront Market. The bike coughed up a cloud of black smoke and sputtered as she tried to make another turn. “NO!” she shouted as it began to slow. “Shit!” Cutting the engine, she hopped off the dying vehicle and took off on foot through the farmer’s market.

Behind her she could hear the truck skid to a halt and the click of fine Italian leather shoes drawing nearer. The wailing of police sirens weren’t far behind and Yvette narrowed her eyes momentarily distracted by the black Escalade pulling up next. Brett. A shot rang out, piercing the wooden booth beside her head and the woman behind the counter screamed and threw herself to the ground. Raymond smirked, charging forward, gun in hand and Yvette hurried in the other direction.


She was without a weapon, having left her gear in her car back on Howard Road. If Raymond caught her, she was dead for sure. Ducking behind a booth filled with fresh fruit, she closed her eyes and tried to think up a way around the suit and back to her husband. The sound of gunfire rang out close by and Yvette realized someone else had joined the fight. Her only chance was that her team had caught up to provide her with an out.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Raymond’s musical voice taunted and he fired at the booth where she hid. A cloud of dirt formed near her hand and Yvette peeked out between the wooden slats to see the man slowly approaching her. Another shot was fired, but this time it was at Raymond. He glanced over his shoulder before crouching behind a pastry stand. 


“More hostiles on site!” She heard someone shout and cussed under her breath. Those other sirens, she knew they couldn’t all be friendly. And now that the suit had friends in the market, there was no telling how or if she would get out alive. People ran screaming as bullets flew over their heads. She watched as Raymond emptied one clip and quickly reloaded. This was becoming an all-out war. Quietly, as the man was distracted, Yvette crawled out the back of the display and started back towards the front of the market, hoping against hope she would run into someone she knew. Her lungs burned as she pumped her legs as fast as she could. Footsteps echoed behind her and she realized she was not alone.

Shooting a fleeting look over her shoulder, Yvette caught a glimpse of a black suit chasing behind her. He raised his gun and she quickly jumped over the wall of another fruit stand and cowered in the darkness. Her heart hammered in her ears as she listened to a concert of gunfire, screams and falling bodies as bullets found their marks. Kicking at the back of the booth, she desperately tried to free herself from the enclosed space. But the wall wouldn’t budge. Sudden terror hit her and she lashed out harder, tearing the boards from place enough for her to squeeze through.


Short of looking back, Yvette zipped through the market and across the street to the Starbucks on the corner. The patrons had all ducked beneath their tables or behind counters when the shooting started. But as she stood in the center of the shop, many of them stared up at her from their positions on the floor. It took her a minute to realize it wasn’t her they were staring at, but the man standing behind her holding her at gunpoint. She heard him take a breath and the clicking of the hammer as it slid into place. 


Yvette didn’t think, she reacted. Swiftly throwing her leg back, she connected with Raymond’s temple, knocking him off balance. The gun fell, firing off a shot. The bullet went wild, shattering the storefront window and a few of the customers on the floor jumped up and scrambled out the door. Raymond slid for his weapon and found a fist to the face instead. Yvette was on him hammering her knuckles into his jaw. 


Scissoring his legs around her upper body, Raymond rolled her, pinning her beneath him, he pushed his weight into her throat, closing off her airways. The barista behind the counter rushed towards them with a cup in hand. Slamming the freshly brewed java against Raymond’s head, he watched as the suit fell back, brushing his head as the liquid burned the left side of his face. Raymond looked up, scowling at the pimple-faced teen and started towards him.


But Yvette was back on her feet and quickly tackled the suit into the counter. Falling away, her head bounced against the tiled floor and she lay stunned a moment as Raymond clambered above her. “I heard you had a penchant for knives,” he smiled, revealing a large switchblade from his boot. The redhead from behind the counter slid a pair of butcher knives towards Yvette, again gaining a soured look from Raymond. “Well now, let’s see if you’re as good with those things as they say.” 


Raymond charged her, slashing violently at her throat as she leaned away, avoiding the assault. Yvette kicked out, tripping him up and watching as he fought to remain on his feet. Just then, she lashed out, slicing across his forehead before dodging his forward lunge. Rolling over a table, Yvette swung wildly, catching Raymond in the shoulder as he plunged his dagger downward. In a desperate attempt, he threw one of his blades. It grazed her side, nicking her skin before landing with a clink beside the door. Yvette grasped at the wound, pulling back with a bloodied hand and Raymond smiled. She staggered backwards, feinting a more serious injury than she had and Raymond seized the opportunity to end this fight and thrust at her. 


Yvette spin-kicked his hand, knocking his last blade to the floor and brought her knee up into his nose. She slid away, kicking the blade farther from his reach as she skidded across the floor. Raymond fell, clutching at his face and quickly scrambled for the gun he eyed near the front booth. “Well played,” he mused, retrieving his weapon from the floor. 


“You’ve been causing quite the commotion lately. My bosses are in a frenzy. But I’m afraid it’s time to put an end to this little game.” He kept his gun aimed at Yvette’s head. Panic hit her like a bucket of water. She was standing exposed in the middle of the coffeehouse and the gunman had her dead to rights. “You’re coming with me,” Raymond growled, dabbing a hand over the cut on his forehead.


“Yvette!” Brett shouted as he and the team advanced. He fired, striking the suit in the arm. Raymond quickly dove for cover, placing his back against the wall and Yvette took off through the back. More shots were exchanged as friends of the suit joined the fray. Brett motioned for Ryan to advance and he inched closer towards the door as he watched his six. Dustin popped up, firing in the direction of the farmer’s market and watched as another black suit fell face first to the dirt.

Raymond poked his head out from behind the wall and without missing a beat, Victor fired, hitting him right between the eyes. The team quickly entered the Starbucks and Brett rushed towards the back as Ryan checked the shooter and slid his weapon to the other side of the room. “She’s gone,” he growled, slamming his fist on top of the counter. “She looked right at me and still ran off.”

“Maybe she’s not ready to come in, BK.”


“I don’t give a damn what she wants. Yvette is blindly marching into certain death and won’t take a moment to think!” The phone in his pocket buzzed and Brett retrieved it, sighing with marginal relief as he heard his wife’s voice on the other end. “Babe…”

Did Ethan fill you in?

“In brief detail before I hauled ass after you. What the hell are you thinking waging war in the fucking Capitol?”

I didn’t start this war, I’m only ending it.

“Yvette…”

Don’t say anymore. I’ll meet you back at your hotel.

“You don’t know where I’m staying.”

Come on now, Brett. Give me more credit than that.” He smiled hearing the humor in her voice and hung up.


“I just need to know you won’t hold me back,” Yvette finished going over her plan. She’d spent the last three hours explaining everything she’d uncovered thanks to Kimberly Redding. A decade’s long conspiracy that ran all the way to the top, as far as she could tell. And the desperation of the Delegate to regain control of a system long thought defunct known as the Cobalt Index.

“And the Delegate thinks this Cobalt Index is somehow lodged in your subconscious?” Ryan asked, scratching his head. “If that was the case, wouldn’t you have triggered on something after all this time?”

“No. The information has been buried under years of operational data, mission details and god knows what else. The only way to successfully retrieve the memory is by extrication which Ethan believes is why McNeer is involved. His time at the agency had been in data extraction, albeit through torture. They figured if they could get him to find the information, great. Otherwise, the alternative…”

“Murder you and everyone you love,” Victor completed her sentence.

“Exactly.”

“And you believe that whatever this Cobalt Index is will reveal information about our government?” Dustin asked. “Information the Delegate doesn’t want to get out.”


“Yes. They’d been plotting this overthrow of the government since I was a kid with interest in what my Daddy was doing behind the closed doors of his office. I was never meant to see the Cobalt Index but because I had, I became an integral part of their mission. Ethan was hunted down for this data and ‘killed’ and that only left me. It was why I came alone,” she sighed, turning to look at her husband. “Having you here is a distraction. I understand now why Ethan walked out of my life all those years ago. You’re my weak link and they know it. They will use you against me to get what they want. That’s why I wanted…I needed you to stay with our babies. You above anyone I trusted would keep them safe.”

“And what about you? You really thought I’d have just left you here without back up to rot in whatever dark hole they tossed you in? And that’s IF they imprisoned you at all! Yvette, you were seconds away from taking a bullet from that asshole back at the coffee shop. What would you have done without me…without us there?” 


“He wasn’t going to shoot. He was under orders to bring me in to their headquarters. It’s what I wanted. I am still lost on who the last 2 members of the Delegate are. And whoever is at the top of this twisted ladder is powerful enough to keep players on the board for over 10 years.”

“But you really think the President is involved?” Dustin questioned the other part of the plan. “Why would she ask us directly to look into the Secret Service if she was dirty?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was a diversionary tactic or she wanted to get us under her thumb where she could watch us more closely. I’ve stopped trying to figure that out. All I know is that these Secret Service agents who have been terrorizing us and the city have got to be getting their orders from somewhere. And who better to control the personal bodyguards of the President than the woman herself?”

“It’s risky,” Brett argued, jumping to his feet. “And I don’t like it. Let’s say you get inside. What’s to stop these 30 armed men from taking you out right then and there?”

“Don’t worry about that. I have something in place that’ll draw their attention long enough for me to get where I need,” she grinned, strumming her fingers against her side.


“Is everything in place?”

Have I ever let you down, Yvie?” Ethan asked over his walkie-talkie. He was waiting in position for Yvette to give the signal. Once she was ready, he was going to make sure she had a direct entrance into the Oval office.

“Let’s do this.” Yvette slipped out of the White House tour and into the roped off area. Giving the signal, she listened for her cue. Moments later, three large explosions erupted in the streets in front of the White House courtyard, shaking the building. Dozens of people screamed and rushed away from the epicenter. Although nothing major or damaging, it did the job she needed. In her best authoritative voice, Yvette abruptly turned to the man behind the counter. “Call emergency services and get this area cordoned off,” she ordered. “Well don’t just stand there gawking! Go! Do it, now!”


Yvette waited for their backs to turn and quietly slipped inside. Quickly making her way up the hall towards the Oval office, she listened for sounds coming from inside and could make out one voice; the woman she came to see. Something was off and she wasn’t quite sure what. Reaching for her weapon, she entered the office just as another door closed and gazed at the woman near the desk. “President Bahii?” she called, waiting to be greeted. But as the Leader of the Free World turned, the funny feeling in her stomach returned and she immediately drew her gun. “Freeze!” Yvette commanded, pinning the President in place with her .357 Gold plated Desert Eagle Magnum. “Don’t even twitch.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“My job.”


“Your job? I asked you to protect me from assassination, not pull the trigger yourself.”

Yvette scoffed, ignoring the woman’s words as she pulled the slide back. “I’ve had my suspicions about you. And with these Secret Service agents running around I concluded there was only one of two people who would have the power to order them to kill; you and Vice President Racine.” The corners of the woman’s mouth twitched as she listened to Yvette continue. “But…I also know President Bahii to be honorable and would never risk the lives of so many innocents for whatever your end game is. So I have just one question for you, who are you?”

“I am your Commander-in-Chief and I am ordering you to stand down.” Yvette cocked the hammer and took a single step forward. “Careful little girl. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that guns are bad? It’s rude and very dangerous to point a loaded weapon at someone!”

“Someone? I thought you were the President,” Yvette mocked, keeping the imposter pinned in place. “Now I will ask you one more time, who are you?”

“I’m the Pres…”


“Bullshit! You’re not the President. I’ve met the President and there is quite a bit off with you. For one, you’re not wearing your bracelet. For a woman so in nature with her heritage, I doubt it’s something you would forget. In fact, as I remember, you were trying to hide it under a sleeve the first time you called us into your office.” The woman glanced at her right arm and back towards Yvette with a shrug. “Wrong wrist.”

The woman’s brow furrowed in a deep v before a cocky laugh escaped her throat and her demeanor changed. “It seems I may have underestimated you. McNeer was right after all. You should have been put down like a dog years ago.”

“Careful, lady. Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to insult someone holding a loaded weapon on you?”

“Cute,” she chuckled again, shifting her weight on her feet as she continued staring down the barrel of Yvette’s magnum. “Do you really want to know the details? Or can we just skip to the good part and I tell you why your special little brain is going to be the star of the Delegate’s mission?” Yvette ignored her question and continued with one of her own.

“What did you do with the President, the real President?”


“Oh, she’s around somewhere, I’m sure. I wouldn’t worry about her. She’ll become irrelevant once we’re through getting what we want from her,” she replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. She was waiting on something…or someone and stalling for time.

“Which is?”

“Well haven’t you figured that out yet? We’re in the middle of reconstruction, recreating a whole new country from the bottom up. You couldn’t possibly understand what it is we’re trying to accomplish.”

“Murdering millions of innocent people just so you can hit the ‘reboot’ button on the country? Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve grasped the concept, it’s just not happening. There’s no fucking way you’re walking out of here alive.”


“Oh? And what are you going to do? Murder the President in her Oval Office? Look around you, Yvette, dear, you’re on my turf. All I have to do is snap my fingers and I’d have a dozen armed agents on you before you could even blink and you would be powerless to stop me. And after today, you’ll be nothing more than floating gray matter in a jar!”

“You’d murder the one person you’ve been desperate to get your hands on?”

“I’d murder the entire country if it meant freeing it from themselves!” The door opened and Yvette watched as a graying man approached the faux President. “What are you doing here?” she growled, keeping her distance from him.

“We got word that Evans was on site and I’m under orders to bring her in.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“No. I was told specifically you’re to be hands off on this one. The girl is coming with me.”


“I said I’ll handle it, Darrell,” the woman glared at McNeer, finally giving Yvette a face to the name. Neither one was backing down and the situation was quickly becoming volatile. Yvette flipped on her comm. as she watched them both and caught it a half second before the President. Darrell was reaching and drew on the woman just as she’d pulled her gun on him. Yvette dove behind the couch near the door as three shots rang out. Two hit McNeer center mass while the third whizzed past the President’s head, lodging itself in the wall beside the flag. “Now, where were we?” she asked, waiting for Yvette to pop her head out.

Instead, Yvette tossed a flower vase towards the corner and as she heard the woman turn, she threw herself across the room, firing a single shot that struck the woman in the head. The false President fell and Yvette landed hard against the wooden floor. “Yvette? Yvette?” Brett’s panicked voice sounded over her ear piece. “I heard shots. What’s going on in there?”

“I’m ok. It wasn’t me. It was McNeer.”

“McNeer?”

“Yes.” Yvette retrieved the phones from both bodies and began going through them, looking for any information on the President’s location. “Jesus!” she gasped, stopping on a GPS location on McNeer’s phone. “Brett,” she yelled into her comm. “You are not going to believe what I just found. Shit!” She heard footsteps rushing towards her.


“Yvette?” Quickly she spouted off the address on the GPS before ducking out of the office. She needed to get out before she was caught with the body of what appeared to be the President and an ex-Federal agent. Brett led the team to the location he was given and surveilled the area for a few minutes. Finding no resistance, they entered and was shocked at what they found.

“Holy shit…” Ryan mumbled turning around in the space. “What the hell is this place?”


“I couldn’t tell you,” Brett replied, staring at the large machine in the center of the room. “But whatever it is, it was in the Delegate’s possession. Dustin, any thoughts?”

“Aside from the obvious? This place has been used for some sort of human testing. This computer against the wall here was used to monitor the vitals of whomever they’d placed inside that thing. Other than that, I’m just at a loss as you guys.”


“Well whatever this place is, they spared no expense. Automatic Missile Weapons systems, high-tech computer equipment and whatever this thing is here,” Brett whistled again taking in the girth of the machine. “I’d hate to see what this thing really does.”

“I am curious though,” Ryan started. “With all of this equipment, why no guards?” The doors above them rumbled open and three heavily armed men entered inside. 

“Nice, Ry, now you wanna tell me Santa isn’t real?” Dustin remarked. “Now the only question is, did we bring enough bullets?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Victor replied, cocking his shotgun as the line of men continued flooding the room.


--CIA Headquarters Langley, VAPresent --

“What happened next?” Agent Rafferty asked, deeply engrossed in Yvette’s story.

“No clue,” Yvette shrugged. “I ditched my suit and the ear piece and started out of the building. The next thing I know, I was being handcuffed and hauled inside a dark van being brought here.”

“So, if that wasn’t the President, where did she go?”

“For that answer, you’ll need to contact Brett and ask him about their discovery at that warehouse,” Yvette sighed watching the frustration grow on the men’s faces.

“Alright, say we believe you, say your story holds even an ounce of truth in it. One phone call will tell us everything we need to know.”


“Then why don’t you go make that phone call so that I can go? You’re holding me here, questioning me about shit that won’t matter in a few days. As far as I know, we stopped a national disaster before it could happen and the President’s life is still in danger.”

“You mean the woman you murdered?”

“Look, Agent Rafferty, I can give you the number to my husband’s cell phone. Call, ask him if he’s located the President. But at the very least, you’ll see that I’m not lying.”


“Sure. We’ll get right on that,” Special Agent Benjamin Taylor snarled, circling the table again as he’d done numerous times since entering the room. He was starting to make her dizzy. “Are we supposed to just take it on faith that you happened upon all of this information?”

“Some, yes. The rest I discovered by performing this strange concept known as investigation; wouldn’t hurt you to give it a try,” she sighed before slamming her hand against the table and angry glaring at the men in the room. “While we’re wasting time in here, the last two members of the Delegate are getting away. They’re probably half way around the globe by now.”

“Sit tight, Princess. We need time to corroborate your story.”

“With whom exactly? The people I’ve just spent the last four fucking hours explaining to you are bad? Go ahead, spin your wheels. See if you can’t lob off the head of that snake.” Dropping her head to the table in frustration, Yvette listened as the door and that annoying ticking reverberating off the walls.


“Let’s go,” Agent Taylor instructed as he pushed through the door of the interrogation room. He was hot. Yvette noticed the tightness in his body language and the disapproving scowl on his face. Something had happened in the course of the ten minutes he and the other agent had exited up until now; something that he obviously did not endorse.

“Where?” she asked as he slid his hand under her arm, forcibly helping her stand. Ignoring her question, he escorted her towards the door and a long hallway guarded by two men and one woman, all in black suits, all agents from some government agency. “Where are you taking me?” she demanded as she was pushed through the door at the end of the hall.

“Outside.”

“Why?”

“I have orders from my C.O to cut you loose. I don’t know who the hell you are, Lady, but you have friends in high places,” he huffed, roughly uncuffing her and dropping the key into his pocket. “Speak with the desk clerk, they’ll get your property returned.”

“Thanks,” Yvette replied slowly, rubbing her wrists.

“Don’t thank me. It wasn’t my call.”


“Sign here, please.” Yvette checked the load in her gun’s magazine before placing it on her hip and starting for the exit. The bright sun beamed down into her eyes and she quickly cupped a hand over her face in order to guide herself down the flight of stairs.

“I finally caught you,” a familiar voice erupted behind her. Yvette turned with a smile and before he had a chance to yell, threw her arms around her husband’s neck and hugged him close.

“I knew you would. Who did you bribe to get me released?”

“Oh, just an old friend of mine. I think you call her Madam President.”

“You located her?”

“Yep,” he nodded. “She was being held in a room at that address you gave us. We found all sorts of goodies; military grade weapons, AMWS and scientist’s records. They kept a pretty lengthy, well-detailed explanation of how the switch occurred. Apparently this woman had been placed in a chemically induced coma for nearly a year as Dr. Renard Schröder performed extensive cosmetic surgery on her to turn her into the President’s clone. Anyway, the President was grateful for everything and wants to have us for dinner a week from now to thank us and to celebrate the dismantling of the Delegate.”

“How lovely!”


“Quite,” Brett smiled, leaning forward to gentle kiss her lips. “Ready to go home?”

“The last two…”

“Were apprehended thirty minutes ago. Well one of them; if you weren’t in the pokey, you might have heard on the news how Vice President Racine was questioned about his involvement. It seems he was the one who’d ordered Mercer to take you out at Jameson’s office. And Mercer, well…turns out we weren’t too far off with his location. He was holed up in Suez.”

“Was he taken alive?”

“That’s what was reported,” Brett replied with a shrug.

“Damn.”


“Yeah…a shame really. You could have maybe caught a flight and wreaked havoc there too…no wait, you were locked up.”

“Yeah, hold that against me,” Yvette sighed. Brett simply shrugged as a smile tugged at his lips. “So what’s left?”

“Great question. I was thinking about heading home, letting Scott keep the kids for the next day and a half and, I don’t know…sleep? Plus, thanks to you, I haven’t had a change of clothes in two days. I’d love a nice, hot bath.”

“Well, it sounds like you have it all thought out. And while your plan does sound great, there’s still one last thing I need to do.”

“Oh no,” Brett frowned, watching the wheels turning in his wife’s head. “What are you up to now?”

“Nothing major, really, I just remembered where I’d heard that other voice before. There’s one last name on the list.”


“Going somewhere?” Yvette asked behind him as he moved further into the room. He jumped and turned to gaze at her, a frightened look on his face. Boxes were stacked around the small room and it appeared he was in a hurry to get to the airport. His luggage sat beside the door and his plane ticket rested on top. “And you weren’t going to call and say goodbye?”

“Yvette? What are you doing here?”

“Your secretary, Jeannie, said it was ok to wait in here for you. Well, after I explained to her how aiding and abetting a known terrorist worked, she was immensely helpful. She keeps records; I bet you didn’t know that. Every phone call, every meeting, every single one. It didn’t take much for her to turn over those books along with your itinerary and it wasn’t hard connecting the dots from there.”


“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, backing away from her as she advanced closer.

“Yeah, see, I thought you might say that. Which is why I asked your friends for corroboration. They were very cooperative too.”

“You tortured them?”

“I only did what you taught me to do, David,” she smirked, watching him finally hit the wall. He was cornered and he knew it. And the tell-tale look of horror on his face only made the smile on hers bigger. “Before I call my friends in here to slap the cuffs on, let me ask you something, Dave, Davey-boy. Were you always secretly plotting my fate or was there ever a real mentor/student relationship between us?”


“You were a mission. Nothing more.”

“Good. That makes things easier,” she sighed, stepping back as she started for the door.

“I’m not going quietly. If you think for a second I will let you arrest me, you’ve got another thing coming. I won’t make it in prison, Yvette! Men like me…I’ll never let that happen,” he growled, rushing behind his desk for the weapon hidden beneath the middle drawer. David aimed towards her and pulled the trigger but the gun just clicked and Yvette took a seat near the door.


“Yeah, I know. I was hoping you’d say that.” Before he could retrieve a backup clip, a single shot blasted through the window, dropping the man where he stood. For a moment she just sat, watching his life drain out and the blank look in his eyes as he stared up at her. David Peterson. Director of the Special Forces Unit for the CIA and her own mentor was reduced to nothing more than a red puddle on the floor. And on top of that, he’d shit himself on the way out.

Yvette stood, silently stepping towards the window and the large hole in the center of the glass. Glancing up, she gave a wave to her husband on the building across the street and he nodded in return. “Now, Brett, we can go home,” she spoke into her ear piece, dropping the stolen bullets to the floor at David’s feet. Giving one last look at the man who’d recruited her into the CIA, she turned and quietly exited the room. 

Continue---->

2 comments:

  1. Well that was exciting, but I didn't expect anything less.

    Yve...really she was shocked to learn that Bret came after her??? If she didn't want him there, she would have never told him where she was going. She knew in the back of her mind that he, and the rest of the team would be there to have her back. Brett isn't the typical husband just like she's not the typical wife. He can handle himself just like she can so yeah, she knew he was coming.

    LOL oh her kicking that guy's ass. He really thought he could take her, but he was all brawn no brains it would seem. hahaha

    Great action shots with the traffic jam and the car chases. I loved the workers at Starbucks. LOL Throwing the coffee then giving her a knife. I like that they weren't gonna just stand by and not help just a little. Way to go!!! She better be glad Brett did show up because I think that guy was gonna kill her and claim accident to his boss. He seemed the trigger happy type.

    The agents questioning her, those guys are always funny. They really think their tough guy tactics would work on someone like her. The last time she was arrested those guys tried it then too. Clearly they didn't get the memo on who she is. LOL

    I don't think I fully understood what the big picture plan was. So they thought Yve has some knowledge of something deep within her mind based off something she saw as a child? On top of that, they were gonna clone key members of the upper 'management' in order to 'reboot' the country??? Um ok, but then again the plans of those crazy take over the world types really only make sense to them. LOL Either way, Yve and the team, managed to put a stop to it and all is well. They got McNeer since I know they've been after him for a while.

    I don't remember the guy at the end. He must have been early on in the story. No matter, the fact that he was supposed to be a key person in her life only for her to learn it was a lie, glad he's dead. So the company did all this to get at Yve, killing her mom to make her go into the agency and all??? Those are great lengths and years upon years of effort all for nothing in the end. Try as they might, they never took Yve down, they should have taken her out as a child/teen instead.

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    Replies
    1. :)

      Lol she wasn't shocked, she was expecting it to be honest. She knew there would be no stopping that man, just as he knows she does what she needs to when she deems it appropriate.

      Dax was informed of who she was and all the same, he thought it would be fun to see if he could best her. Bad decision on his part. Although, he did get a few good licks in before he died!

      Thank you! I hate that the actual roads are never so crowded but it's great there's the option to create one as needed. HAHA well at least ONE of them was helpful. The other one was frozen in place...just like the customers all watching her get choked out and stomped on. Props to the redhead for standing up for her! You're right, he may have just been in the mood to shoot her. Brett got there in the nick of time!

      Rafferty was nice (possibly playing good cop) but Taylor was a dick from jump and that made Yvette a very hostile witness. It's always fun seeing if they can try and outsmart her to get what they want out of her...never goes as planned though.

      Well. That could be my fault. The story changed SO much from the first season that what I originally had planned for the finale had to change as well. I went through about 3 different possible endings and they all made me sigh in frustration. The long and the short of it is, as a child, Yvette was exposed to some pretty classified information, stuff she had no business hearing or seeing. Katrina had uncovered the conspiracy and she went to Scott and Ethan about it for help. Katrina was killed, Ethan was hunted down and Scott...well he was left alone because his involvement wasn't crystal clear. Years later the Delegate thought to use Yvette against her father to get the Intel from him but figured it would work best for them to just take him out and use her instead. The end game was world domination (as it always seems to be).

      The guy at the end, David Peterson, is the person who recruited Yvette into the CIA. He's been shown a few times and is mentioned in her bio and the about. He was the first contact she ever made in the company and it was all a lie. She wasn't planning on ever allowing him to live out the rest of his days in prison. The information in Yvette's head was crucial to their plan. They needed her on their side in order to execute it properly. They used her to draw out Ethan thinking they could just get the info from him. But when that proved tricky, they set him up to appear to be the bad guy (making her think he was after her) so she would kill him instead.

      You're right though. It might have been easier to just take them both out when she was younger.

      Thank you for reading!

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