A/N: Thanks again for the enthusiastic reviews, LonelyDove. You help me to feel a bit more excited about writing on my stories, which I really need at this point. And anyone else who wants to leave a review, i'd appreciate any I can get right now. I'm just not feeling very enthusiastic about my writing right now. -DL
Chapter 6
Leon shuffled out of his bedroom, yawning and knuckling at his eyes. Who the hell was knocking on his front door at two in the morning! He staggered over and wrestled with the chain, calling our hoarsely: “I’m coming! Hold your horses!” to whoever was still rapping vigorously on his door.
He finally got the chain undone and pulled it free, then unlocked the door itself and swung it open. The light over his front door revealed the face of the man standing there grinning at him. “Iasan?” he said, dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?”
“Cousin Leon!” the man replied in a thick, musical Irish accent. “I’ve come to see me family! Aren’t ya glad ta see me?”
Leon blinked sleepily. “Not really. Not at two in the morning,” he rasped. “Besides, I haven’t seen you for over five years, not since Mom and I took that vacation to Ireland to meet the Irish branch of our family. Why would you come here now?”
A shrug. “Well, I had some business to attend to here in the States. So I thought I’d drop in and return the visit while I was here.”
Leon eyed him warily. “In other words, you’re looking for a place to crash to save yourself some money,” he remarked dryly.
Iasan looked little-boy rueful. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “So will ya put up a cousin in need?” he practically batted his eyelashes at Leon, who shook his head in exasperation.
“Fine, you can sleep on my couch. Come in,” he said, opening the door and allowing Iasan to step inside his apartment.
“Many thanks, cousin! I appreciate it,” Iasan came into his apartment, looking around. “Nice place ya got here. How much do ya pay in rent?”
“None of your business,” Leon told him tartly, shutting the door behind him. “I’ll go and get you a pillow and a blanket. Then I’m going back to bed.”
“That’s fine. I’m still wide awake, though. I’m still on Irish time,” Iasan strolled over to the couch and draped himself over it.
Leon went to fetch a pillow and a blanket from the linen closet, shaking his head at himself. Why was he taking in this distant relative( he and Iasan were cousins twice removed)? Well, he supposed it was because Iasan and his family had been so kind and charming when Leon and his mother had gone to Ireland to meet the members of the Irish part of their family. They’d showed Leon and his mother around, had taken them to good restaurants and on a tour of the sites around Dublin, and had been very welcoming. He couldn’t do any less, even if this visit was out of the blue and something of an imposition on him.
He went out into the living room and handed Iasan the pillow and the blanket. “Here. You can watch the TV if you turn the sound down,” he added. “Now I’m going back to bed. I have a meeting at work this morning.”
“Will do, cousin,” Iasan replied, taking the pillow and blanket. “I appreciate this, I really do.”
Leon nodded and went back into his bedroom, climbing back into his bed. All he wanted was a good night’s sleep. He hoped nothing else happened to disrupt his sleep…
Some hope! Less than an hour later, Leon was woken up again by more loud pounding on his front door! He shot out of bed, intent on screaming at whoever was making all of that noise, but just as he entered the tiny hallway leading into his living room, the front door burst open and a bunch of men came streaming into his apartment! ARMED men! Leon would have started screaming in terror, except for the fact that these armed men were wearing blue windbreakers with gold lettering on the front. FBI. “Iasan Sullivan! Don’t move! You’re under arrest!” a familiar voice barked, and Leon’s eyes widened when he saw Caleb standing at the front of this little armed posse.
Caleb strode around the couch and produced a pair of handcuffs, which he slapped on Iasan’s wrists. “Well, looks like I wasn’t as cunning as I thought,” Iasan remarked ruefully. “Coming to my cousin’s house.”
“I’m afraid not,” Caleb agreed, pushing him forward toward the waiting group of men. He gave Iasan over to one of them, who started to lead him away.
“Wait!” Leon screamed, coming out into the living room. “What the hell is going on here?!” he demanded, his voice shrill.
“Leon,” Caleb began, his voice grim.
“Caleb? What are you doing?” Leon said, hugging himself.
Caleb sighed. He produced a black wallet from his pocket and flipped it open. “Special Agent Caleb Vargunin,” he began. “I was put in place to observe you, Leon. Because we thought that your cousin Iasan Sullivan might come to see you. We suspected he was coming to the U.S., and knew that this might be our one chance to catch him.”
“Catch him?” Leon said blankly. “What do you mean? What’s he done?”
Caleb’s black eyes met his. “Your cousin is a member of the IRA, Leon,” he said. “The Irish Republican Army. Three years ago, he set a car bomb in front of a police station on a timer. But it went off prematurely, and killed six people who just happened to be on the sidewalk next to the car. Two of them were children,” he added, his voice hard.
Leon felt his heart sink into his stomach. His eyes flew to Iasan’s face. “Is that…true?” he asked, horror in his voice.
Iasan shrugged. “Maybe it tis, maybe it tisn’t,” he replied jauntily. “Don’t you know that a soldier does whatever he has to, cousin? When your soldiers kill children over in Afghanistan, do you treat them like criminals?”
“You’re not a soldier!” Leon cried furiously. “You’re a terrorist!”
“Think what you like. I’m sorry to have brought all this trouble to your door,” Iasan said, just before the FBI guy led him away outside.
The rest of the men began to trickle out, leaving Leon and Caleb alone in his apartment. “Leon,” Caleb began. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you about any of this. But I couldn’t, believe me. I had my orders.”
“Yeah, and so did the Nazis,” Leon snapped angrily.
“Leon…” Caleb sighed.
He held up a hand. “No,” he grated. “I can understand why you couldn’t say anything, but did you have to ingratiate yourself with me? Become my friend? I thought you liked me! Now I just find out you wormed your way into my affections so you could spy on me!” the anguish in his voice made Caleb visibly wince.
“It wasn’t like that at all,” he protested. “I swear. I was just supposed to watch you, not make friends with you. In fact, if my boss found out I’d done that he’d have a fit. But I couldn’t help myself. I really do like you, Leon.”
He snorted. “Right. Whatever. How can I trust a thing that you say? You lied to me all along, so I’m supposed to believe that you’re telling the truth NOW?” his voice was acid.
Caleb sighed, looking tired and drawn. “I deserved that,” he said. “And I’m sorry, Leon. I wish that there was something I could say or do to make you believe that I’m telling the truth, but I can see that there isn’t. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear. I’ll get going now. Oh, and we’ll pay to have your front door fixed,” he added over his shoulder as he turned to leave the apartment.
“Don’t bother! I don’t want anything from the FBI!” Leon cried angrily, turning and stomping away in the direction of his bedroom. If he said anything more to Caleb, he’d seriously try to hurt the man. And he didn’t want to go to jail for attacking an FBI agent, even if it would feel really, really good…
He stood under the hot shower a few hours later, his eyes drooping with weariness. There were dark circles under them, partially from lack of sleep and partially from the crying he’d been doing on-and-off since three o’clock. He’d sniffled like a baby into his pillow, which made him feel like an idiot. Caleb had just been using him; he had to accept that. The man didn’t feel anything for him; he’d just been doing his job. And while he was really glad that his cousin had been arrested for the horrible crime he’d committed, it still didn’t make him feel any better. His heart ached inside of his chest. What a fool he’d been, to believe that Caleb was his friend! But how could he have known what the man’s real intentions were? Caleb had been a very good liar.
Wearily he stumbled out of the shower and went to get dressed for work. He wasn’t going to be much good during that meeting this morning; his brain felt fried. But life had to go on, didn’t it? Even after your heart was broken and your faith in people destroyed, you still had to get up and go to work. And maybe concentrating on work would help him to not think about any of this anymore.
Caleb stood in the office of the Director of the FBI, nearly ‘at attention’ as the man scrutinized the documents in front of him. “You did a good job on your last assignment, Vargunin,” he remarked.
“Thank you, Sir,” he replied coolly, his face blank.
The Director frowned. “Which is why I can’t figure out this,” he held up the last document in the stack. ‘Why are you requesting a transfer to the West Coast? You do realize what affect that would have on your career, don’t you? You’re an up-and-coming young agent. You have the potential to go anywhere. Why the San Diego office? You might as well ask to be moved to Fargo.”
“Yes, Sir,” he said. “I am aware that my request for a transfer could affect my career. But I want to move to the West Coast for personal reasons, Sir.”
“Personal reasons? Do you have family out there or something?”
The oddest little smile drifted over Caleb’s lips. “Not yet,” he replied. “But here’s hoping, Sir.”
The Director stared at him as though he’d sprouted a second head. “Okkaayy,” he drawled. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that your last assignment was in San Diego?”
“Yes, Sir, it does,” Caleb said. “If I might be honest, Sir, I met a man while I was out there. I really think he might be the one. And I want to pursue a relationship with him if he’ll have me. I know that seems strange to you, Sir, but that’s the way it is.”
“So you’re going to torpedo your career in favor of your love life,” the Director said, shaking his head.
Caleb nodded. “Yes, Sir, that’s about the gist of it,” he agreed.
“Very well, Agent Vargunin. It’s your life. If you’ve decided to go crazy, that’s your choice. I’ll grant your request. But any time that you want to come back to D.C., the door is still open.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Sir, thank you,” Caleb said.
“All right. I just hope that this person is worth it, Vargunin.”
“He is, Sir,” Caleb replied. “He definitely is.”
Go to Next Chapter
Chapter 6
Leon shuffled out of his bedroom, yawning and knuckling at his eyes. Who the hell was knocking on his front door at two in the morning! He staggered over and wrestled with the chain, calling our hoarsely: “I’m coming! Hold your horses!” to whoever was still rapping vigorously on his door.
He finally got the chain undone and pulled it free, then unlocked the door itself and swung it open. The light over his front door revealed the face of the man standing there grinning at him. “Iasan?” he said, dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?”
“Cousin Leon!” the man replied in a thick, musical Irish accent. “I’ve come to see me family! Aren’t ya glad ta see me?”
Leon blinked sleepily. “Not really. Not at two in the morning,” he rasped. “Besides, I haven’t seen you for over five years, not since Mom and I took that vacation to Ireland to meet the Irish branch of our family. Why would you come here now?”
A shrug. “Well, I had some business to attend to here in the States. So I thought I’d drop in and return the visit while I was here.”
Leon eyed him warily. “In other words, you’re looking for a place to crash to save yourself some money,” he remarked dryly.
Iasan looked little-boy rueful. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “So will ya put up a cousin in need?” he practically batted his eyelashes at Leon, who shook his head in exasperation.
“Fine, you can sleep on my couch. Come in,” he said, opening the door and allowing Iasan to step inside his apartment.
“Many thanks, cousin! I appreciate it,” Iasan came into his apartment, looking around. “Nice place ya got here. How much do ya pay in rent?”
“None of your business,” Leon told him tartly, shutting the door behind him. “I’ll go and get you a pillow and a blanket. Then I’m going back to bed.”
“That’s fine. I’m still wide awake, though. I’m still on Irish time,” Iasan strolled over to the couch and draped himself over it.
Leon went to fetch a pillow and a blanket from the linen closet, shaking his head at himself. Why was he taking in this distant relative( he and Iasan were cousins twice removed)? Well, he supposed it was because Iasan and his family had been so kind and charming when Leon and his mother had gone to Ireland to meet the members of the Irish part of their family. They’d showed Leon and his mother around, had taken them to good restaurants and on a tour of the sites around Dublin, and had been very welcoming. He couldn’t do any less, even if this visit was out of the blue and something of an imposition on him.
He went out into the living room and handed Iasan the pillow and the blanket. “Here. You can watch the TV if you turn the sound down,” he added. “Now I’m going back to bed. I have a meeting at work this morning.”
“Will do, cousin,” Iasan replied, taking the pillow and blanket. “I appreciate this, I really do.”
Leon nodded and went back into his bedroom, climbing back into his bed. All he wanted was a good night’s sleep. He hoped nothing else happened to disrupt his sleep…
Some hope! Less than an hour later, Leon was woken up again by more loud pounding on his front door! He shot out of bed, intent on screaming at whoever was making all of that noise, but just as he entered the tiny hallway leading into his living room, the front door burst open and a bunch of men came streaming into his apartment! ARMED men! Leon would have started screaming in terror, except for the fact that these armed men were wearing blue windbreakers with gold lettering on the front. FBI. “Iasan Sullivan! Don’t move! You’re under arrest!” a familiar voice barked, and Leon’s eyes widened when he saw Caleb standing at the front of this little armed posse.
Caleb strode around the couch and produced a pair of handcuffs, which he slapped on Iasan’s wrists. “Well, looks like I wasn’t as cunning as I thought,” Iasan remarked ruefully. “Coming to my cousin’s house.”
“I’m afraid not,” Caleb agreed, pushing him forward toward the waiting group of men. He gave Iasan over to one of them, who started to lead him away.
“Wait!” Leon screamed, coming out into the living room. “What the hell is going on here?!” he demanded, his voice shrill.
“Leon,” Caleb began, his voice grim.
“Caleb? What are you doing?” Leon said, hugging himself.
Caleb sighed. He produced a black wallet from his pocket and flipped it open. “Special Agent Caleb Vargunin,” he began. “I was put in place to observe you, Leon. Because we thought that your cousin Iasan Sullivan might come to see you. We suspected he was coming to the U.S., and knew that this might be our one chance to catch him.”
“Catch him?” Leon said blankly. “What do you mean? What’s he done?”
Caleb’s black eyes met his. “Your cousin is a member of the IRA, Leon,” he said. “The Irish Republican Army. Three years ago, he set a car bomb in front of a police station on a timer. But it went off prematurely, and killed six people who just happened to be on the sidewalk next to the car. Two of them were children,” he added, his voice hard.
Leon felt his heart sink into his stomach. His eyes flew to Iasan’s face. “Is that…true?” he asked, horror in his voice.
Iasan shrugged. “Maybe it tis, maybe it tisn’t,” he replied jauntily. “Don’t you know that a soldier does whatever he has to, cousin? When your soldiers kill children over in Afghanistan, do you treat them like criminals?”
“You’re not a soldier!” Leon cried furiously. “You’re a terrorist!”
“Think what you like. I’m sorry to have brought all this trouble to your door,” Iasan said, just before the FBI guy led him away outside.
The rest of the men began to trickle out, leaving Leon and Caleb alone in his apartment. “Leon,” Caleb began. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you about any of this. But I couldn’t, believe me. I had my orders.”
“Yeah, and so did the Nazis,” Leon snapped angrily.
“Leon…” Caleb sighed.
He held up a hand. “No,” he grated. “I can understand why you couldn’t say anything, but did you have to ingratiate yourself with me? Become my friend? I thought you liked me! Now I just find out you wormed your way into my affections so you could spy on me!” the anguish in his voice made Caleb visibly wince.
“It wasn’t like that at all,” he protested. “I swear. I was just supposed to watch you, not make friends with you. In fact, if my boss found out I’d done that he’d have a fit. But I couldn’t help myself. I really do like you, Leon.”
He snorted. “Right. Whatever. How can I trust a thing that you say? You lied to me all along, so I’m supposed to believe that you’re telling the truth NOW?” his voice was acid.
Caleb sighed, looking tired and drawn. “I deserved that,” he said. “And I’m sorry, Leon. I wish that there was something I could say or do to make you believe that I’m telling the truth, but I can see that there isn’t. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear. I’ll get going now. Oh, and we’ll pay to have your front door fixed,” he added over his shoulder as he turned to leave the apartment.
“Don’t bother! I don’t want anything from the FBI!” Leon cried angrily, turning and stomping away in the direction of his bedroom. If he said anything more to Caleb, he’d seriously try to hurt the man. And he didn’t want to go to jail for attacking an FBI agent, even if it would feel really, really good…
He stood under the hot shower a few hours later, his eyes drooping with weariness. There were dark circles under them, partially from lack of sleep and partially from the crying he’d been doing on-and-off since three o’clock. He’d sniffled like a baby into his pillow, which made him feel like an idiot. Caleb had just been using him; he had to accept that. The man didn’t feel anything for him; he’d just been doing his job. And while he was really glad that his cousin had been arrested for the horrible crime he’d committed, it still didn’t make him feel any better. His heart ached inside of his chest. What a fool he’d been, to believe that Caleb was his friend! But how could he have known what the man’s real intentions were? Caleb had been a very good liar.
Wearily he stumbled out of the shower and went to get dressed for work. He wasn’t going to be much good during that meeting this morning; his brain felt fried. But life had to go on, didn’t it? Even after your heart was broken and your faith in people destroyed, you still had to get up and go to work. And maybe concentrating on work would help him to not think about any of this anymore.
Caleb stood in the office of the Director of the FBI, nearly ‘at attention’ as the man scrutinized the documents in front of him. “You did a good job on your last assignment, Vargunin,” he remarked.
“Thank you, Sir,” he replied coolly, his face blank.
The Director frowned. “Which is why I can’t figure out this,” he held up the last document in the stack. ‘Why are you requesting a transfer to the West Coast? You do realize what affect that would have on your career, don’t you? You’re an up-and-coming young agent. You have the potential to go anywhere. Why the San Diego office? You might as well ask to be moved to Fargo.”
“Yes, Sir,” he said. “I am aware that my request for a transfer could affect my career. But I want to move to the West Coast for personal reasons, Sir.”
“Personal reasons? Do you have family out there or something?”
The oddest little smile drifted over Caleb’s lips. “Not yet,” he replied. “But here’s hoping, Sir.”
The Director stared at him as though he’d sprouted a second head. “Okkaayy,” he drawled. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that your last assignment was in San Diego?”
“Yes, Sir, it does,” Caleb said. “If I might be honest, Sir, I met a man while I was out there. I really think he might be the one. And I want to pursue a relationship with him if he’ll have me. I know that seems strange to you, Sir, but that’s the way it is.”
“So you’re going to torpedo your career in favor of your love life,” the Director said, shaking his head.
Caleb nodded. “Yes, Sir, that’s about the gist of it,” he agreed.
“Very well, Agent Vargunin. It’s your life. If you’ve decided to go crazy, that’s your choice. I’ll grant your request. But any time that you want to come back to D.C., the door is still open.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Sir, thank you,” Caleb said.
“All right. I just hope that this person is worth it, Vargunin.”
“He is, Sir,” Caleb replied. “He definitely is.”
Go to Next Chapter