This War of Mine
by Tjsmklvr

---

Rating: PG

Summary: While Lee's on assignment, Amanda fights a war at home.  

Warning: Violence and Strong Language

   
“Mankind must put an end to war before war puts an end to mankind.”
John F. Kennedy
 
 2:52 a.m. Saturday, March 15, 1986
 
Amanda hadn’t even realized she was heading toward his apartment until she had pulled along side the building and parked.  Once she had been cleared by the Agency doctor on-call, she had left on autopilot.  The idea of where she would go had not even been a thought; she’d just gotten into her car and driven into the dark, still night.
 
She pulled the ice pack from her cheek, tossed it on the seat next to her and stared at herself in the rearview mirror in disbelief.  The doctor had said the swelling would continue and the ice would help, but her face was practically numb it was so cold.  If the ice was helping, she didn’t see how.  Her face was puffy and about seven shades of ugly.  How had she let this happen?  She was supposed to be a professional, well at least a ‘professional in training’.  Now here she sat, at nearly three o’clock in the morning, outside her partner’s apartment, battered and bruised.    
 
Her stomach began twisting and she gripped the wheel tightly.  Why had she come here?  Her family was out of town. The house was empty; there would have been no questions to answer.  Before she could contemplate her decision any further, she jumped at the loud crash and subsequent argument a small group of young men were having across the street.  Her mind immediately flashed back to earlier in the evening.  Her thoughts were on another fight, one she had experienced first hand. 
 
The thickly accented, booming voice in her head now drowned out the boys’ harmless squabble.  His taunting, his slaps, they were all she could hear now.  Her trembling hands, still clutching the wheel, were scratched and bruised, results of her fighting to stay alive.  Her eyes started to blur from the tears now filling them.  Taking in a shaky breath, careful of her bruised ribs, Amanda unfastened her seatbelt and then gingerly stepped out of the vehicle.  She needed the safe haven that only one man could bring. 
 
On wobbly legs, she opened the door to the entrance and pulled her jacket tightly around her.  She didn’t see the taxi driver coming out of the building until he had slammed into her, nearly knocking her down.  She was certain her shoulder had been knocked clear off until the pounding proved otherwise.  He grumbled an apology and tugged his fare’s luggage to the curb.  Amanda waited for the traveler to exit after his driver, careful to avoid eye contact.  She cast her eyes to the ground hoping to avoid any more encounters and entered the building. 
 
“Good morning, ma’am.”  The man barely lifted his head from behind his desk.   
 
Amanda picked up her pace, not wanting to stop and have her occasional chat with the building’s night watchman. 
 
“Oh, Mrs. King?  Is that you?  You’re up and about early this morning, why it’s not even light out,” the overly cheerful voice came. 
 
Certain that he’d see her marred face she kept her eyes focused on the elevator, now only a few yards away.  Giving him a non-committal wave, she rushed past his perch behind the small desk inside the entryway.  Once in the small confines of the elevator, she let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding and pressed the button for his floor.  She slumped to the back wall and slid to the floor, hoping no one would join her on the short trip up. 
 
                                                                                               SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
6:36 a.m. Saturday, March 15, 1986 
 
Lee dragged himself off the elevator and stalked to his apartment door.  “Thank God that assignment’s over,” he grumbled.  The fact that he took the redeye back from California didn’t help his disposition any.  He was tired and he was hungry.  He wanted nothing more than to crash on his bed and sleep the morning and afternoon away.  As he placed the key into the lock, he noticed a small glow creeping under the door.  Instincts kicking in, he grabbed his gun from its holster, stealthily turning the key and twisting the doorknob.  Silently slipping in, his eyes darted around the room, looking for anything out of place.  But found nothing. 
 
He sniffed the air.  There was something familiar about it . . . it was something pleasant . . . vanilla.  A small smile formed on his lips.  “Amanda,” he whispered.  He would know her scent anywhere.  But, why would she have been at his place?  Wasn’t she supposed to be on vacation with her family?  Did she come by to water his plants before she left?  He continued searching the apartment for any clues, a note perhaps, but it wasn’t until he returned from his search of the bedroom that he found her lying in the fetal position on his couch, cocooned in a thin blanket.  How had he missed her during his first sweep through the apartment?  He could barely see her face, but he knew it was his partner. 
 
But why was she asleep on his couch?  He hadn’t even known he was coming back early.  They weren’t expected to finish up the case for a good week or so.  When he carefully sat down next to her, he noticed a half-empty glass clutched in her hand.  He eased it from her grasp, bringing it up to his nose.  He couldn’t believe it.  “Scotch?  Since when do you drink Scotch?” he whispered disbelievingly.  Brushing a slightly damp strand of hair from her brow, he allowed his hand to lightly touch her shoulder blade before letting it slide down the smooth sleeve of her robe.  He did a double take.  ‘Is she wearing my robe?’
 
“So, you came all the way over here to have a shower and a drink?” he whispered incredulously, shaking his head as he got up and turned on a second light, with the intent of waking her.  That’s when he saw it.  Her eye, cheek and neck were several shades of angry red and purple.  “What the hell --” the phone disrupted his state of panic and he rushed to pick it up before it woke her. 
 
“Stetson!” he replied tersely, yet quietly, not wanting to wake his visitor.
 
“Scarecrow—”
 
“What the hell happened while I was gone, Billy?”  He raked his hand through his hair, the way he found himself doing when he was upset. 
 
Lee could hear his supervisor sigh into the phone.  “I take it you’ve seen Amanda.”
 
He snorted in distaste.  “Yeah, I just came home to find her asleep,” he swirled and sniffed the remaining contents in the glass and continued.  “Or rather passed out on my couch.  She looks like hell, Billy!”  He watched her chest rise and fall, giving him small solace. 
 
“I’m not surprised after the night she had.”
 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?  I thought she was going on vacation with her family for a couple weeks for Spring Break?”  He was certain that had been the plan.  It was the only reason he’d agreed to go to California in the first place.  Had he known his partner would be working without him, he would have turned the assignment down.  “It looks like someone used her face for a punching bag, Billy.”  Lee’s stomach knotted at his last comment.  ‘When I get a hold of the bastard that did this to her . . . I’ll kill him!’  
 
“You know I can't tell you anything over this line, Lee. It’s been weeks since your last sweep.  Why don’t you get some rest and I’ll fill you in later.  I just called to make sure you stopped by her house to check on her.”
 
“Yeah, well I want answers!” he whispered harshly. 
 
“Later, Lee,” his boss’ voice left little room for argument. 
 
Lee heard the soft click on the other end and slammed the phone down defiantly, but cringed when he saw Amanda stirring on the couch.  He hadn’t meant to wake her, but at least now maybe he’d get some answers. 
 
Lee came back around the couch and crouched down beside her.  “Hey, are you okay?”  He asked, lightly caressing her shoulder.  She flinched at his touch and he regretfully and immediately removed his hand.  What he wanted to do was grab her up in his arms and never let her go.  The overwhelming sense of protectiveness when it came to this woman was always confusing to him, but he couldn’t think about that right now.  Instead, he watched her slowly become aware of her surroundings.  The need to touch her was nearly overpowering.  He wound an errant strand of her hair around his finger, careful not to touch the multiple bruises that marred her face.
 
“L-e-e?”  Her eyes were barely open.  Her speech was slurred and her voice had a child-like quality to it.  Exactly how much had she had to drink before he’d arrived home? 
 
“Yeah, it’s me.  Amanda, what happened?  Who did this to you?”  He quietly probed as he reluctantly let go of her strand of hair.
 
She sat up gingerly and looked a bit off balance.  Lee held her forearms to steady her, but felt them tugged from him as she dashed from the room.  He wasn’t sure what had caused her to flee until he found her in his bathroom moments later.  She was crumpled on the floor next to the commode, her bare feet gathered up beneath her, and her head hovering above the bowl as she heaved.  He squatted down beside her, pulling her damp hair off her face and holding it behind her head.  “Let it out,” he soothed as he rubbed small circles up and down her back.  “Uh, Amanda . . . just how much did you have to drink?”
 
“Just a glass,” her voice sounded hollow and he could barely make out what she’d said.  ‘It sounds like more than just one to me,’ he thought.
 
“When’s the last time you ate?”  He knew he was starting to sound like her as he peppered her with questions, but he was genuinely concerned.  What could have caused her to drink herself into oblivion?  Even more, who hurt her? 
 
“Not hungry.”  She whimpered as she pulled the lid shut and flushed.  “It wasn’t so bad ‘til . . .” She groaned and then swallowed hard, but continued.  “. . . ’til the pain killers kicked in.”  Her head was resting on her arm as she lay against the toilet.  “Then everything just got kinda fuzzy.”
 
He reached up and retrieved a washcloth from the shelf.  Running it under cold water, he squeezed out the excess and the placed it carefully across the back of her neck.  “This should help.  I remember Barney doing this for me whenever I got sick.  Would you like some water?”  She nodded.  Getting up off the floor, he grabbed the glass off the corner of the sink and filled it.
 
“Can you tell me what happened?  Who did this to you?”  The questions swimming in his mind came tumbling out. 
 
“Lee, not now . . . please . . . the room’s spinnin’.  I just want it to stop.”  He handed her the glass of water and sat back down next to her, placing his arm carefully around her waist to steady her. 
 
After taking a few tentative sips she handed it back to him with trembling hands.  She leaned into him before sliding down and gingerly placed her head onto his lap. 
 
He rubbed small, light circles up and down her back, feeling the tension slowly leave her body--hoping it would help loosen her tongue as well.  It was killing him not knowing what had happened to his partner and best friend.   
 
Lee gave her a few minutes to calm down before once again attempting to ask her what had transpired while he was away. 
“Amanda?” he whispered tentatively.
 
No answer.
 
“Amanda?”  He spoke more loudly this time.
 
-- Still nothing. 
 
Looking down, he could see she had fallen back asleep.  He sighed in frustration and then carefully lifted the two of them up off the floor and carried her into his bedroom.  She let out a soft moan when he laid her down onto his bed – he hoped he hadn’t caused her too much pain.
 
After covering her with his comforter, he silently exited the room.  Answers.  He wanted answers.  But it appeared he’d have to wait a little while longer.  For now, he’d have to settle for a sandwich and few hours of sleep. 
 
Before closing the door behind him, Lee turned to watch the rise and fall of his partner’s chest one more time.  His left fist clenched in frustration and helplessness and he tried to swallow it down.  On second thought, he'd settle for disturbing his supervisor’s sleep. Billy had some explaining to do--and Lee was going to insist he do it now.
 
                                                                                                  SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
“What the hell were you thinking?”  Lee paced the length of his living room.  “Are you crazy?  You sent her on an assignment like that--without me?”  Had his boss lost all sense of reality?  Sure, Amanda had great instincts, and yeah, she’d even gotten him out of some pretty sticky situations, but sending her on a mission of this caliber?  Crazy!  That’s the only explanation he could come up with.  Lee struggled to keep his voice down.  With Amanda sleeping in the next room, he had to stay calm and the look on his boss’ face was a good indication that he hadn’t appreciated his outbursts either. 
 
“Calm down, Scarecrow.” 
 
“Calm down?  You want me to calm down when you’ve sent my partner, a mother of two small boys, I might add, out on an assignment that could have--should have gotten her killed?  And you want me to calm down?”  Lee could feel his blood pressure rising. 
 
“She had full back up, man.  She was perfectly safe–.”  Billy cringed slightly as he glanced toward Lee’s bedroom.
 
“Perfectly safe?”  He shouted.  Realizing he was going to wake Amanda up if kept shouting, Lee tried lowering his voice.  “Then explain to me why my partner is asleep in my bed right now with bruises all over her body, Billy?  Huh?  Please, tell me!”  Anger singed the corners of his control as he stomped across the room.  The sudden urge to throw something clear across the room was nearly overwhelming. 
 
Billy looked down contritely at his shoes, foregoing the hard-as-nails agent mode that was expected of him.  “How is she, Lee?”
 
“I don’t know, Billy.”  Lee rubbed his hand roughly over his face in frustration.  “She fell asleep after getting sick in the bathroom, so I put her to bed.  She was still asleep when I checked on her after I called you.” 
 
“She got sick?”  The worry on his supervisor’s face was unmistakable.  Lee knew how much Amanda meant to his boss.  She was a bright spot in what could be a very dark place . . . for all of them.   
 
“Yeah, seems she had thrown back some scotch before I arrived home and then said something about pain killers.  I take it the Doc gave her something for the pain?”
 
Billy nodded and pulled out a small bag.  “Yeah, she forgot to take these when she left the clinic last night.  Be sure she takes them.” 
 
“Yeah, I will.”
 
“Look, why don’t I head out so we don’t wake her?  I’ll keep you posted if I hear anything.”  His supervisor grabbed his coat and threw it over his arm. 
 
“Yeah, okay.”  Lee walked to his front door and opened it quietly.  “But, you call me if you hear anything—” he jabbed his index finger at the corpulent man for emphasis, “Anything at all.”
 
“I will.  Now, go take care of your partner.”
 
                                                                                                     SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
2:07 p.m. Saturday, March 15, 1986 
 
Feeling the warmth of sunlight on her face, Amanda slowly stirred from her slumber.  She tried to move but found her body wouldn’t or couldn’t cooperate.  That’s when she remembered.  Memories of the night before forced themselves into her awareness--memories she’d rather forget. 
 
“Why didn’t I tell Mr. Melrose I couldn’t handle the assignment?”  Her voice was raspy and she tried to clear it.  She quickly regretted that decision when the crescendo exploded in her head.  “Shoot!”  Rubbing her temples did little to appease the pain so she pulled herself from her bed in search of aspirin.  Only, it wasn’t her bed.  Where was she?  She couldn’t still be . . . ‘No, I got out.  I know I did.’  She squeezed her eyes shut and just as panic threatened to sweep through her, she remembered driving to Lee’s apartment and her heart began to beat normally again.  But how had she ended up in his bed? 
 
Stumbling to the door she slowly opened the door and poked her head around to make sure she was alone.  Not hearing anything, she sighed in relief.  ‘He’s still in California.’  Satisfied, she slipped into the bathroom to freshen up.  She ran her tongue carefully over her dry split lip.  The taste of metallic filled her senses and her stomach flipped in protest.
 
Amanda turned on the faucet and splashed her face with cold water, only to be shocked when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.  She knew she was a frightful sight; the night before she had caught a glimpse of herself in the two-way mirror during her debriefing and scared herself.  But the few hours spent sleeping had only added to the gruesome effect.  She had deep bruising on her right cheek and eye as well as her split lip.  She slowly pulled the robe open to inspect the damage.  The bruising and redness on her shoulders, neck, and ribs where he’d grabbed her were some of the worst.  Actual handprints were left in his wake. 
 
She shuddered as snippets of the previous night once again flooded her memory.  ‘If only I’d gone with mother and the boys.  I would have never met Patrick.’  “Patrick.”  Even whispering his name aloud sent shivers down her spine.  She had never seen anyone so out of control--like a savage beast.  ‘If only . . .’
 
10:42 a.m. Monday, March 3, 1986 
 
“Amanda, could I see you in here for a moment?” 
 
She looked up from her desk and nodded to her boss.  Why did he look so solemn?  She hadn’t been working on anything important, so she couldn’t have messed anything up.  Could she?  Since Lee had left for California last Thursday things had been pretty quiet.  She’d kept to herself mostly, with an occasional lunch with one of the girls from accounting.  ‘Well, only one way to find out.’  With that she headed into Billy Melrose’s office. 
 
“You wanted to see me, sir?” 
 
“Yes, please come in, Amanda and shut the door.” He motioned to the empty chairs across from him.
 
“Thank you, sir.” 
 
“How’s it going out there?  I know things have been a little quiet around here.”  He smiled pleasantly. 
 
“Oh, everything’s fine, sir.”  She smiled in return, but the smile faded when she picked up on his uneasiness.  “Sir?  Excuse me for asking, but is everything all right?  I mean did something happen –”
 
“No.”  He interrupted.  “He’s made all his check-ins.”  He held his hand up.  “I’m sorry to have worried you.  We’ve just had a case come up and . . . well, I need your help.  I need someone to help Desmond and with Dawson on the Gillespie trial and Miller on medical leave, well, I’m in a bind.  I hate to ask you to miss your vacation, but I really don’t have any other options, Mrs. King.”
 
“I understand, sir.”  As disappointed as she was to have to cancel her trip with her family, Amanda was excited to work on a new case.  She was going to have a real case of her own--without Lee.  Well, it would be with Francine, but at least she’d have the chance to prove herself to the blonde know-it-all agent.  Maybe Francine would finally see that she wasn’t just a housewife from Arlington.  At the very least, maybe she’d stop making snide comments.  ‘Don’t expect miracles, Amanda!’
 
“You’ll be her . . . uh.”  He seemed to be struggling for the right word.
 
“Window dressing, sir?  That’s what Lee calls it.” She closed her eyes and nodded at his furrowed brow.  “I understand, sir.”
 
“Yes, well . . . ” The stout man sifted through the rather thick file and continued.  “Sean McGuinnis came through Dulles on Sunday.” 
 
Amanda opened her mouth to ask who he was but was stopped short by Billy’s raised hand. 
 
“McGuinnis is a notorious IRA operative.  He’s been linked to several terrorist bombings including the ‘84 attack on the Brighton Hotel in London where Prime Minister Thatcher and her cabinet were meeting.  As I’m sure you recall, several officials were injured and four civilians were killed.”
 
“Oh, yes, sir.”  She remembered reading about the awful attack in the paper and nodded in understanding.  “So where do I come in, sir?”
 
“We’ve received word from one of our snitches that McGuinnis is here to stir up trouble during the World Conference on Anti-Terrorism at the British Embassy coming up in two weeks.  It appears he’s looking for a way in.  We’re going to give him just that.” 
 
With a raised brow Amanda reached for the file her superior held out to her.  “Sir?” 
 
“You’ll pose as the assistant to the coordinator for the event.  Francine will be the coordinator.  We’ll leak word through our contact that she is working the event.  He’ll also mention that she hangs out at a local bar after work with fellow co-workers, and just hope that he bites . . .”    
 
“Oh, he bit alright.”  Amanda gently patted the towel over her face and turned to fill the tub.  What she needed was a long hot soak to soothe her aching muscles.  She only hoped Lee wouldn’t mind her taking over his place in his absence. 
 
“Amanda?”  The muffled voice came through the bathroom door as a light tap echoed in the small room.
 
She jumped at the sound of his voice.  ‘Oh no!  Lee’s home, but how did he know I was here?’    She pulled the lapels of the robe tighter to her body and pulled the sash snug.  Just then, she heard another soft tapping on the bathroom door. 
 
“Amanda?  I know you’re in there.  Please, just open up.”  His voice pleaded with her.
 
“How did you know I was here?”  She whispered, her back pressed against the door. 
 
“I came home early this morning and found you passed out on my couch.”
 
“You saw me . . .”  ‘He knows?’  She brought her hand up to her cheek as she felt the heat rise in embarrassment of having him see her that way.  Why did she have to go to his apartment?  Why hadn’t she just gone home?  ‘Because you didn’t want to be alone and even though you knew he wasn’t home, you felt safer in his apartment than you would have at home,’ her inner voice replied.  She closed her eyes in hopes of waking up to find this was all some kind of bad dream. 
 
“Let me help you.  Open the door . . . please.” 
 
His pleading touched her heart and she let go of her embarrassment long enough to unlock the door.  She quickly turned her back to the door and walked toward the sink as she heard him enter.
 
“Billy stopped by with the ointment and pain meds that the doctor prescribed . . . that you forgot to take with you—”
 
“I’m sorry, Lee.”  She couldn’t help but blurt the words out.  She knew she was a disappointment to him.  Her first real assignment without him and she blew it!
 
“Sorry?  Sorry for what, Amanda?”  She could feel his breath on her neck and knew he was standing right behind her.  She didn’t dare look up into the mirror, lest their eyes met.
 
“Sorry for messing up this case, for coming here instead of going home . . . for everything.  I should have—” 
 
“Amanda King, you stop right there.  Billy told me what happened.  He should have never involved you in this in the first place.  You didn’t mess anything up . . . and I’m . . . glad you felt you could come here.  Now, please . . . just turn around so I can help you.”
 
Turning around slowly, she wasn’t prepared for the look of sadness in his eyes.  His eyes darted to the side as soon as they made eye contact.  It was obvious he was fighting for every bit of control, as was she. 
 
He lifted his hand to touch her cheek but hesitated.  “Come here.”  He whispered and held out his arms to her. 
 
It didn’t take long before she felt his arms encompassing her in a warm gentle embrace.  Oh how she needed this.  She hadn’t realized how much--if only to feel safe for just a moment.  Amanda bit her lip to keep from losing control, an act that she quickly regretted when she once again tasted the fresh metallic taste of blood on her tongue.  Reluctantly, she pulled away from the warm cocoon he had created.  “You said you had some cream?”  She asked barely above a whisper.  She had to regain her composure and she certainly couldn’t do that in his arms. 
 
He cleared his throat and pulled out a small tube from the back pocket of his jeans.  “Yeah, right here.  Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll put it on.”  He guided her to the toilet and patted the lid.  “Have a seat.” 
 
Gingerly, she sat down, wedging her legs between his and watched as he teetered on the edge of the tub.  She tried to look anywhere but in his eyes—knowing that if she did, he’d see clear down to her soul.  She couldn’t handle that on a good day, let alone at a time when her emotions were so raw.  His fingers were so soft and cool on her heated face.  She flinched when his fingers rubbed too long on an abrasion. 
 
He pulled his fingers away as if burned by a flame.  “I’m sorry, Amanda.”  It was clear by the look of remorse on his face that he was frustrated with himself.  He dropped his hand to his lap, and then closed his eyes and shook his head. 
 
“No.”  She grabbed his hand and returned it to her face—not wanting to lose the connection.  “It’s okay.”  Their eyes met and they both tentatively smiled. 
 
He continued his ministrations and moved toward her neck where she had noticed some scratches earlier.  How could something so painful make her feel so warm and tingly inside?  His touch was so careful, so tender.  She wished, not for the first time, that he would just kiss her.  Had she said that aloud?  The look he gave her made her wonder. 
 
His fingers slowed from a rub to a sweet caress.  Were they finally on the same page?  She looked into his eyes and thought she saw desire, the same desire she felt for him.  Was it possible? 
 
His fingers moved around to the back of her neck and slowly pulled her toward him.  Just as their lips were about to touch he pulled back, his eyes like saucers. 
 
Amanda turned her head so Lee wouldn’t catch the look of utter disappointment she knew would be present.  She understood.  How could she not?  She looked like a monster.  Who’d want to kiss that? 
 
“I’m sorry,” he said as he scooted away, putting some distance between them.  “Amanda –”
 
“No, don’t.”  She carefully lifted herself from the commode and brushed past him.  “I understand.  Um, I’ll just get dressed and be out of your way.”  She cautiously picked up her clothes that she vaguely remembered leaving on the hamper the night before.  “I really shouldn’t have come here.  I don’t know what I was thinking.”
 
“Wait, you don’t understand.”  He grasped her shoulder to turn her toward him but she flinched at the touch and he let go immediately.  She wasn’t sure if it was due to the soreness of her aching body or the searing touch of his hand. 
 
“Please, I just want to go home, Lee.”  Resting her hands on the sink, she looked up catching his reflection in the mirror.  Her eyes pleaded with him to let it drop.  Much to her surprise, he silently agreed and shut the door behind him.
 
After changing and throwing her hair up in a sloppy ponytail, Amanda slipped out of the bathroom and made it to the bedroom doorway before she smelled fresh brewed coffee and what she assumed was chicken noodle soup.   
 
“Hi there.”  His rich baritone voice was soothing to her weary body.  Hands shrouded in his pockets, he looked uncomfortable in her presence. 
 
“Hi.”  She replied meekly. 
 
“I thought maybe we could talk.  I made some coffee and heated up some soup.  Are you hungry?” 
 
“A little.  I missed dinner last night.”  Amanda glanced at her watch.  “And I seem to have slept through breakfast and lunch.”  She shrugged. 
 
“Okay,” he sighed with a faint smile.  “Have a seat, I’ll bring it out.”  He motioned toward the dining room table and she made herself as comfortable as possible.  She hoped this conversation would go better than their previous one in the bathroom. 
 
“I hope you like chicken noodle.  That’s all I had.”  He smiled when he placed a bowl in front of her.  “I haven’t been to the store in a few weeks.” 
 
“Right, well you’ve been out of town.  How was it?”  At his questioning look she continued, “Your case.  How’d it go?”
 
“It was fine.  It was more Fielder’s case than mine, really.  I was just there as back up.  But I’m more interested in your case.  Can you tell me what happened?”  He scooped up a spoonful of noodles that now sat precariously on his spoon, and blew on them before shoveling them into his mouth. 
 
“I thought you said you talked to Mr. Melrose this morning?”  She eyed him suspiciously.
 
“I did.  But he only gave me a quick run down, no details.  I want to know what really happened—from my partner.  He stressed the last word and it touched her, as she assumed was his intention.  There was a time in their relationship when he would have rather given himself over to the Russians than claim her as his partner.
 
She continued stirring the soup, content to watch it swirl. 
 
“Amanda?” Lee called.
 
“Hmmm?  Oh, right.”  She scooped up some sugar and added it to her coffee, needing time to compose herself before she began the diatribe. 
 
“At first it seemed textbook.  Mr. Melrose assigned me to help Francine about a week and a half ago and we spent that first Monday learning the ropes at the embassy and most of that evening at the bar on Massachusetts Avenue, you know the one across from the British Embassy?”  He nodded.  “Well, McGuinnis never showed up, so we went back the following night.  We started to think it was wishful thinking that he would stick with the same MO of using a woman to get on the inside.  Francine decided it was time to call it a night and regroup in the morning.  Well, she had to use the ladies room, so I settled up the bar tab.  Just then, I heard a distinct Irish accent whisper in my ear.” 
 
The memory of his voice caused her to shudder, and she rubbed her arms to fight the sudden chill.  Try as she might, Amanda couldn’t keep from reliving the events of the previous few days. 
 
9:21 p.m. Wednesday, March 5, 1986
 
“Can I buy ‘ya a drink, Lass?” 

Startled, Amanda turned toward the heavily accented voice only to come face to face with a strikingly handsome man.  It was the same man that she had seen in an Agency photo days before in her supervisor’s office.  His hair was sandy blonde, just long enough to touch his shoulders.  But it was his eyes that caused her to suck in her breath.  Their icy blue hue nearly pierced through her.  How could those beautiful eyes belong to an international terrorist? 

Swallowing hard, Amanda tried to regain some composure before answering the tall Irishman.  “Uh,” she looked pleadingly at the bathroom room door and then back to the tall man before her.  “Yes, thank you.”  She stared at him as he wrapped his long legs around the barstool.  A two-inch scar embedded itself in his right cheek, starting just below his eye and traveling down to his lip.  It was the only flaw she could see that plagued the man.  Perhaps that’s why he kept a short beard—to hide the scar.  He was slightly taller than Lee, and leaner.  He had a commanding presence that demanded respect—with or without a gun, which she was certain was hidden beneath his black leather jacket. 
 
Amanda had been shocked when she’d read McGuinnis’ profile at the Agency two days prior.  He’d had quite an illustrious career already at the age of twenty-eight.  His rap sheet read like something out of a novel—starting with childhood pranks and vandalism, and quickly turning to more serious crimes as he got older, including numerous car bombings, and cold-blooded killings—all in the name of the Irish Republican Army.   She wondered, not for the first time, what had happened in his young life to cause him to lash out in such violent ways.  Certainly others had lost a parent and gone on to live productive, non-violent lives.  She only needed to look as far as her partner to know that much was true. 
 
Startled from her thoughts as the dark ale was placed in front of her, she tried to relax—it wouldn’t do any good to scare him off now.  “Thank you, mister . . .?” 
 
“The name’s Patrick O’Brien, lovely lass.  And who might you be?” 
 
“Nice to meet you . . . Mr. O’Brien.”  She reached out and shook his hand.  He held her hand with his right and squeezed her elbow with his left in a very intimate manner.  His eyes scanned her from top to bottom almost as if he was memorizing every bit of her.  She couldn’t help but blush.  “My name is Amanda Keane.”  It seemed they weren’t lacking in the fake name department this evening.  “You have a beautiful accent.  Where are you from?”
 
“Aye, Belfast, Ireland.  I just arrived to your fair city a few days ago.”
 
“Well, I hope you’ve gotten a chance to visit some of our wonderful monuments.  There really is something to be said about all that history!”  She stalled hoping beyond hope that Francine would rescue her.
 
“I’ve only had a chance to visit a few, but the one I’m looking at now is the prettiest I’ve seen!”  He winked at her and took a gulp of his beer.
 
Amanda lowered her head and feigned embarrassment at his compliment.  When she looked back up she caught Francine coming out of the ladies room but was certain she was able to return her focus on the man in front of her without detection. 
 
“Perhaps you could show me around?  I’d love to learn about all that history you mentioned.  What do you say?  Will you be my own personal tour guide, lovely Amanda?”
 
‘Play it cool, Amanda.’ Screamed her inner voice.  “Oh, I don’t know.  We’ve only just met, Mr. O’Brien.”
 
“Aye, but I’m a good judge of character.  You seem pretty harmless to me.  And I’d really like it if you’d call me Patrick.”
 
“Well, I’m glad I’ve passed your security check, Patrick.”  She genuinely laughed.  He really was charming.  ‘Yeah, a charming murderer,’ her inner voice chimed in disapprovingly.  “As nice as that sounds, Patrick, I do have to work.”  By this time, Francine had saddled up to the bar and ordered a white wine, obviously listening to every word the two of them spoke, as if Amanda didn’t have enough pressure on her.  Why did Francine have to leave her alone in the bar?  What was supposed to be a simple assignment for Amanda had turned into a full-scale scramble, all because Francine’s nose was shiny.
 
“Ah, and what is it that keeps you so busy, lass?”  Before she could answer he continued.  “Let me guess.  From the looks of you, I’d say you were on the news . . . or perhaps an actress.  Am I right?”
 
“Oh, nothing quite that glamorous, I’m afraid.  I work for the White House, but I’ve been temporarily assigned to the British Embassy.  There’s a big conference coming up next week that I’ll be helping to coordinate.”  There it was, the line had been cast. The question was, would he bite?  Amanda picked up her beer and took a big swig, hoping to calm her nerves.      
 
The sound of Lee clearing his throat brought her back to the safety of the present, and she continued with the events of the previous week.  “Later that night, we had a late dinner, where he told me very little about himself.  He was very good at switching the focus back to me--almost as good as you, Scarecrow.”  She quirked an eyebrow and he smiled. 
 
“And after dinner?”  His eyes spoke of something more than just curiosity, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on exactly what it was. 
 
“After dinner . . . he walked me to the agency car Francine and I drove there in.” 
 
“And then?”  He asked with a raised brow when she didn’t immediately continue. 
 
“And then?”  She looked at him expectantly. 
 
“What happened when you got to the car?  Did he . . .”
 
“We exchanged phone numbers, he kissed the back of my hand and we said goodnight.”  She shrugged.
 
“Well good.”  He rushed.
 
At his words, she looked up from her soup, and as their eyes caught, he looked contrite.  He quickly feigned interest in his soup, clutching his fist around the spoon just a bit too tightly. 
She decided it would be best to continue with her story.  “I drove around the corner and met up with Francine as we had originally planned, only in reverse.  Well, to say that Francine was upset that he’d made contact with me and not her would be a bit of an understatement.”  She rolled her eyes. 
 
“I can only imagine what she had to say about that.”  Lee commiserated as he refilled his coffee and then offered her a warm up, but she shook her head no. 
 
“Let’s just say, that was the longest drive I’ve ever experienced.  She didn’t even stop yelling once we returned to the Agency.  Mr. Melrose finally got her to accept that things were the way they were and we had to deal with it.”  She shrugged.  “She mumbled something about it being ‘typical Amanda-luck’ and then we were able to get on with the plan.”  She pushed around the noodles before taking a sip of coffee.   
 
“Is something wrong with the soup?  I know it’s not homemade but –.”
 
“Oh, no.  It’s good.”
 
“A-man-da, you haven’t even taken a bite.” 
 
She knew he was trying to take focus off her ordeal by mothering her.  She appreciated the effort and followed his lead.
 
“I’m sorry, Lee.  I think my stomach’s still upset from last night.”  She tilted her head to one side and then slowly to the other trying to work out the tightness in her neck and shoulders. 
 
“Tell you what.  If you take a few bites of soup, I’ll take you for a walk in the park.” 
 
“Oh?  And why would I want to do that?  Did you forget I look like a monster?”
 
“You’d want to take a walk because, one, you’re muscles are no doubt, very tight and the walk would help loosen you up; and two, because I happen to be very good company.”  He smiled broadly at her.  What seemed like an afterthought, he added.  “And you most certainly do not look like a monster.  Now, hurry up and eat,” he ordered.
 
“Yes, sir.”  She tried not to smile for fear of splitting her lip open again, but the feeling that came over her whenever he flashed that smile could not be smothered.  Scooping up a spoonful of soup and bringing it to her mouth to sip, she suddenly remembered a similar situation.  There she sat painfully watching Lee try to sip soup through his split lip after the ‘Dodger’ sucker punched him in the mouth.  Had she known then how bad it felt, she would have insisted they leave—just knowing he was trying to make things up to her was more than enough—even if he was reluctant to admit it back then.  She carefully slurped a few more bites to satisfy her caretaker and then dabbed each corner of her mouth with her napkin before placing it on the table. 
 
A few minutes later, after they had cleaned up their soup bowls and coffee cups, she heard him come up behind her.  “You ready to go?”  He handed her his old Orioles hat and helped her to pull on her jacket. 
 
“Lee, I don’t know about this.”  She tugged his baseball cap as far over her eyes as she could, in hopes of covering her marred face. 
 
“Well, I do.  You need to get out and stretch your muscles, Amanda.”  He tipped her hat up and looked into her eyes.  “Besides, you look beautiful.”  The feather-light kiss he bestowed upon the tip of her nose gave her the courage to follow him out of the safety of his apartment.       
 
Lee was right; she was wound tighter than a drum.  Once again Amanda tentatively turned her neck from side to side in hopes of working the kinks out.  The walk through the park was helping but she still felt ill at ease.  How could she tell her partner what happened next?  How could she tell him what she’d been forced to do?  Amanda opened her mouth to start but quickly thought better of it and closed it.  She felt him squeeze her hand before she heard his voice. 
 
“You okay?”  He guided her over to an empty bench and helped her sit down.  His eyes told her he was just as reluctant to hear what she had to say, as she was to say it. 
 
She tried her best to smile, but knew she had failed.  “Sure.  I’m fine.”
 
“Are you in any pain?  Should we head back?”  He seemed to be holding his breath while he waited for her response.
 
“No, really, I’m fine.  Thank you.  Talking about this is just . . . so hard.”  She began wringing her hands as she spoke.  “I’m not real proud of what I had to do and I’m even more worried what you’re going to think of me after you hear all the details.” 
 
“Amanda, there is nothing . . .” His voice trailed off when she turned away.  He got up and kneeled in front of her, and raised her chin to meet his eyes before continuing.  “There is nothing you could do or say that would make me change my opinion of you.  Just take a deep breath and when you’re ready, I’ll listen.”
 
She sat there a few moments trying to collect her thoughts, deciding how much to tell him.  Seeing the understanding in his eyes, she knew she had to tell him everything.  She cleared her throat and dove in.  “We had dinner and drinks the next two nights and it wasn’t until the third night that he asked me back to his hotel room.”  She watched carefully for any signs that Lee was feeling uncomfortable, but all she saw was unconditional support.  That fact helped her through the next part. 
 
11:46 p.m. Friday, March 7, 1986
 
“Would you like to come up for a night cap, Lass?”  He pulled her toward him crushing her body to his.  Softly, he stroked her cheek and waited for her answer.  Up until this point they had only shared a few brief goodnight kisses.  Their intimacy level seemed to have grown leaps and bounds tonight. 
 
This was it.  She needed to make her move tonight.  Time was running out and she hadn’t found out any solid leads.  Besides, as Francine had so readily told her, if she played the ‘Pollyanna’ bit one more night, she’d risk losing his interest—whether he needed her or not.  “A man can only take so much frustration, Amanda.”  Francine snidely told her while she helped Amanda get ready. 
 
Steeling herself for what was to come, Amanda captured his lips in a passionate kiss.  Surprised by the softness of his lips and the feelings they evoked, she quickly pulled her lips from his.  “I’m not really thirsty,” she whispered breathlessly near his ear.  Grabbing a hold of his lapels, she pulled him toward the elevator.
 
“Even better,” he groaned. 
 
Patrick guided her to his hotel room and quickly ushered her inside.  The door had barely closed before she felt his arms wrap around her from behind, and then pull her hair to one side, only to feel his mouth devour the back of her neck.  The coarse whiskers that adorned his face felt like tiny needles against her skin.  Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she tried to remember what Lee had told her once before.  “Be the character, forget about who you are and feel the person you are supposed to be.”  With each passing moment she was reminded that this could quickly get out of hand. 
 
Mr. Melrose told her to do her best and if it got too hot, to get out.  Of course, Dr. Smyth said to do whatever was necessary to get the information.  She remembered sitting in her section chief’s smoke-filled office, wide-eyed listening as Leatherneck had explained how to use the so-called “knock-out” drug as Dr. Smyth glared at her disapprovingly as he puffed away on his cigarette.  “One dose will knock a normal sized man out for several hours, two and we’re talkin’ lullaby city, Mrs. K.”  The way Patrick’s octopus arms were moving; she’d better give him two just to be safe. 
 
The thought of Francine and the other agents stationed in the room across the hall listening in on her every move brought back a twenty-year old memory when she and her boyfriend, Jake Hardin were necking on her parents front porch.  She knew her mother was no doubt peaking through the curtains, but the feel of Jake’s sweet lips on hers helped block out that realization.  This wasn’t exactly the same.  Jake was replaced with an international terrorist and her overprotective mother was replaced with a tiny microphone hidden in her watch.  ‘Be the character, forget about them.’  With new resolve, she turned in his arms and kissed him soundly on the mouth. 
 
His hands roamed over her body and she bit her lip in consternation.  Amanda’s body and mind were on completely different pages.  Her mind knew he was an international terrorist, but her body was reacting to the man she had gotten to know over the past few nights.  The man that had told her about his stolen childhood—his father killed in a home invasion, a case of mistaken identity, which she knew to be only partially true.  His father was shot and killed in his home in front of him and his siblings, but it was by the British Army in a gun battle with the IRA—and they knew precisely who his father was. 
 
He spoke of his mother working two jobs to support him and his two younger siblings.  Sure she’d read the story of his father’s death in his file, but it didn’t show the humanity--only the cold hard facts.  Hearing how it affected him gave a completely new layer to the story.  She could only imagine how traumatized her sons would have been if they’d seen their father shot down in cold blood.  She shuttered at the thought. 
 
Of course Patrick followed in his father’s footsteps; it was all he knew. 
 
As hard as she tried, she couldn’t help but like him.  Yes, he was a cold-blooded killer; for that, there was no doubt.  But he had this child-like quality about him that she couldn’t help but react to.  She was a mother; she understood the sacrifices one must make to protect their family and the impact those choices had.
 
Amanda couldn’t quite believe it herself.  Here she was on her first solo case, in the arms of the enemy, and she was sympathizing with him?  She needed to gain control of the situation and her emotions.  What would Lee think if he saw the way she was behaving--if he could read her thoughts?  ‘Thank God for small favors!’ 
 
Just as she had calmed herself down and refocused her energy, she felt it--the distinct feel of her bra being unclasped below her blouse.  She needed to slow things down and fast before things went further than she was capable of handling.  Patriotism was all well and good but self-respect and the ability to look at your self in the mirror were even more important to her. 
 
Reaching behind her she grasped his searching hands and brought them in front of her.  “Hey, how about that drink you promised me?”  She smiled shyly and squeezed his hands. 
 
“I thought you weren’t thirsty?”  He started nibbling her earlobe and she shivered. 
 
“Well, I seemed to have worked up a thirst.”  She grinned as she pulled away and slid past him to the phone sitting on the bedside table. 
 
He followed closely behind.  “Allow me to quench your thirst, Lass.”  He pulled the room service menu from her grasp and laid it back on the table before pulling her down onto the bed with him. 
 
What was she going to do?  She had to get those drops into him soon or it would be too late.  Love of her country be damned--she was not sleeping with Patrick O’Brien or Sean McGuinnis or whoever the heck he was!  Before she could contemplate her next step, she felt him cease his unnerving attack on her throat and ear.  Now she’d done it.  He was on to her.  Soon he’d realize what was happening and she’d have to be rescued by the cavalry hidden away in the room across the hall before her case even got started.
 
He sighed into her neck.  “You aren’t going to relax until you get that drink, are you?” he mumbled knowingly.
 
She sighed in relief, which he seemed to take as affirmation.  He grabbed the menu off the bed and then reached for the phone.  Not feeling like risking suspicion, she opted not to argue with him about who would place the order.  They had a contingency plan for every moment, if he called directly down to room service, she would just add the drops herself. 
 
While he dialed the phone, Amanda excused herself to freshen up.  She wondered if it was possible to stay locked in the tiny room until the drinks arrived; where she would be safe from his octopus hands--at least for the time being.
 
Just as she’d refastened her bra there was a light rap at the door. “Mandy? I think our drinks are here.  Come on out.  You can’t be any more gorgeous than you already are.”
 
She inwardly groaned.  Why did he have to call her that? It must be a rule in the ‘bad guy/girl’ handbook.   ‘Do they call you, Mandy?’  Amanda mentally shook the voice of Lee’s former lover, Eva out of her head.  There was definitely no room for Eva in this hotel room.  She plastered a seductive smile on her face and slid out into the main room.
 
“For fuck’s sake!  It’s a Goddamn drink!  You didn’t think to bring ice?”  Patrick’s voice boomed near the front door. The force of his anger pushed her back and she clutched the door jam for support.  This was not the same man she came in with.  Obviously there really were two sides to him.  Before her was the man she had only read about. 
 
The waiter stepped behind the cart as if to put some distance between them.  Amanda met his startled eyes and could see her own shock mirrored there.  “I’m very sorry, Sir.  I’ll go get some ice right away,” the waiter’s voice trembled.  Amanda recognized the young man from Beaman’s freshmen class of agents.  He was a little paler than she remembered, but it was definitely him.   
 
Patrick followed the waiter’s stare and his enraged face quickly changed when his eyes found Amanda’s, giving her a most charming smile, he turned back to the waiter.  Patrick stuffed several bills into the young man’s shirt pocket and practically shoved him out of the room.  “No need.  It was an honest mistake, Lad.” 
 
Amanda knew at that moment that this was not going to be the simple assignment she’d expected when her role had been originally explained.  The chill that ran down her spine when his cold glare met her eyes was like none she’d ever experienced.  She was just glad she wasn’t on the receiving of his tirade.
 
The relieved waiter nodded to Amanda and backed out of the room, as if he was afraid to turn his back on Patrick.     
 
“Our drinks are here.” He responded cheerfully as he shut the door and carried the tray into the room.  She could almost see the adrenaline pumping through his body, as if he had gotten a high off of what had just taken place.   
 
He grinned as he handed her the drink.   Returning his smile, she placed her drink back on the tray and slipped his drink from his fingers, setting it down next to hers.  “Why don’t you go freshen up first?”  She guided him toward the bathroom and gave him a promising kiss hoping he’d acquiesce, and much to her relief, he did. 
 
As soon as the door closed, she pulled out the small vile that had been burning a hole in her pocket for the past half hour.  Her eyes darted to the closed door and then back to the vile. With the pounding of her heart and the rush of blood to her ears, she swallowed hard and pulled the cap off with her teeth.  With one last glance behind her she flicked a drop into the clear liquid, swilling it around to hurry the dilution.  “Please work!”  She pleaded in a whisper.  Francine had told her that they could doctor Patrick’s drink before delivering it but she was worried she’d drink the wrong one.  Besides, she wanted to be sure she gave him enough.  There was no room for error here.  Knowing her luck, she’d be the one passed out cold, then where would she be?
 
Amanda’s breathing was staggered, it wasn’t until an elderly couple walked by them that she realized she wasn’t back in Patrick’s hotel room.  She could feel Lee rubbing her back in a soothing motion and she blinked repeatedly trying to pull herself from the thick of the memory. 
 
“Why don’t we walk down by the water, huh?”  His raspy voice was full of emotion.  From his body language she could see he needed a break as much as she did.  Lee helped her from the bench and led her down the small pathway to the water below. 
 
“You know, I always wanted to live on a lake.  I have such fond memories of the summers I spent down at Lake Moomaw with my parents.  Daddy used to say I should have been born a fish, the way I loved the water.  Mother always said I was going to turn into a prune,” Amanda reminisced. 
 
“You spent your summers in a place called ‘Lake Moomaw’?”  He rolled his eyes at her and smirked.
 
“What’s wrong with that?  It was quite lovely, I’ll have you know.”  She picked up a small pebble and skipped it across the lake.  “Besides, who are you to talk?  Didn’t you tell me you and your uncle were stationed in Offutt, Nebraska at one time?”  Amanda leaned toward Lee and gently nudged him with her shoulder, knocking him slightly off balance.  “And that’s just one of the odd places you’ve lived,” she added.
 
“Game, set and match, Mrs. King.”  He smiled brightly, showing her his trademark dimples as he lowered himself down to the ground not far from the water. 
 
“Giving up so quickly, Scarecrow?”  She teased as she quirked an eyebrow then gingerly settled beside him on the grass.  “I’m disappointed.”
 
“Oh, I wouldn’t say I’m giving up, Mrs. King.”  They exchanged a subtle look of amusement as Lee picked up a few pebbles and began skipping them across the water as she had done only moments ago.  “Haven’t you ever heard of the ‘element of surprise’?” 
 
Her eyes studied him with a curious intensity.  It was times like these that she was the most confused.  Were they just exchanging friendly banter or was she supposed to read between the lines?  He could be so confusing and so damn charming all at the same time. 
 
Amanda could feel her partner’s eyes scanning her after each toss of a pebble.  Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her heart pounding erratically.  She pulled herself up off the ground and walked closer to the water’s edge in an attempt to gain some semblance of control.  
 
“Hey, I was just kidding.”  Lee’s light touch on her arm startled her and she jumped.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
 
“Don’t be.  I mean you didn’t.  I mean . . . I’m fine.”  She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to settle her nerves.  With resolve to tell her partner what happened, she let out a sigh and continued with the tale.  
 
                                                                                                  SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
“It worked!”  She sighed in pure exhaustion as she felt the rise and fall of his bare chest on top of her.  The sight of their clothes strewn about the room reminded her of what her fate could have been had the ‘knock-out’ drops not come through for her.  She’d have to bake Leatherneck a double batch of his favorite cookies as a ‘thank you’. 
 
Shuddering at what could have been, she extricated herself from under his weight and pulled on his discarded white dress shirt and buttoned it up.  Amanda sat on the edge of the bed watching him.  He reminded her of a small child.  There were no indications of torment on his young face; even the scar on his face wasn’t as visible.  Reaching to brush a lock of hair that rested on his brow, she abruptly stopped short.  What was she doing?  This was a terrorist!  If she’d had any doubts to the extent of his anger she merely had to think back to the scene with the ‘waiter’ earlier.  He was a different man.  His temper ready to erupt at a moment’s notice—she would need to be extremely careful. 
 
And that’s exactly what she’d be–careful.  She needed to begin her search of his things and quickly.  There was no telling how long he’d be unconscious.  She only hoped there was something there among his belongings that would link him to the expected attack at the British Embassy.  Just one break, that’s all they needed.  The sooner this was over the happier she’d be.  But what was she looking for?  ‘You’ll know it when you see it,’ reverberated in her head from a case long ago, she sighed and began digging through Patrick’s personal belongings.  “Right!  I’ll know it when I see it,” she whispered.
 
                                                                                                  SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
Nearly an hour later, Amanda was certain she’d turned the room upside down twice over, and still nothing—what wasn’t nailed down was thoroughly searched.  Tired and frustrated, she sat down on the couch trying to think of what she could have overlooked.  There had to be something she was missing.  Her eyes scanned the standard issue hotel room before her.  The paintings on the wall held no secrets, nor did the empty dresser and nightstand.  Patrick seemed to be living out of his duffel bag – which too proved to be a dead end.  The wastebaskets brought nothing, as did the newspapers scattered on the small round table situated in the corner of the room.   
 
Amanda stared at the unconscious man across from her.  He looked almost like Phillip or Jamie lying there, young and innocent. 
 
Phillip . . . and Jamie. 
 
Her eyes darted to the bed below him.  That had to be it!  She shot up and moved over to the empty side of the bed and carefully slipped her hand in between the mattress and box springs.  How many times had she found contraband when changing the sheets in the boys’ room?
 
Shoot!  Nothing. 
 
She had one last chance—she eyed the other side of the bed and stalked over to it like a cat burglar.  Unfortunately, Patrick’s weight was impeding her search.  In order to get a good look under the mattress she’d have to practically roll him over to the other side. 
 
His body reacted to the slight movement and she gasped pulling back quickly only to find her hand wedged between him and the mattress.  Biting her lower lip, she held her breath waiting to be sure he wouldn’t wake before she slowly tugged her hand free. 
 
“Ouch.”  Amanda hissed pulling her hand free and quickly sucking the tip of her finger.  As the sting faded, she pulled out the offending piece of paper sandwiched there.  Her eyes widening as she read the sheet from top to bottom.  Their break!  It wasn’t exactly what she was hoping to find but would he really be stupid enough to leave step-by-step instructions of his plan to blow up the embassy?  Not likely.  No, this would have to do. 
 
Pulling her mini-camera from the hidden pocket in her purse, she laid the paper on the table in the corner of the room and hovered over it.  One quick snap, then another checking over her shoulder after each exposure to be sure her ‘friend’ was still down for the count. 
 
Returning the hidden document had been no small feat, but she’d managed.  After making a quick call to ‘room service’ for a bottle of whiskey, she waited and watched.  Hoping against hope that he wouldn’t wake, her breathing was coming in short gasps as she thought of the possibilities.  If he woke up before she got a chance to dump out half the bottle’s contents she’d have a lot of explaining to do.  How else would she explain his black out?  “You don’t remember a thing about last night?” she’d reply.  “Well, you did drink an awful lot . . .” 
 
Returning from the bathroom she placed the bottle on the tray near their empty glasses.  Okay. The hard part was over.  She tugged on the collar of his shirt she now wore and began mismatching the buttons so it would look as though she’d just thrown it on in the middle of the night after their ‘romp in the sack’.  Which was partially true, she mused.  She had thrown it on in the middle of the night.  He just happened to be unconscious at the time.  Could she help it if he couldn’t hold his drug-laced liquor? 
 
Wow!  She was really starting to think like her partner.  But he was right; disconnecting yourself from the task at hand did help to get through the mission.  She nearly died of embarrassment when he had worked her dress off of her.  Standing in front of him in her bra and panties as he ran his hands up and down her body as his mouth assaulted her face and neck.  If she hadn’t taken Lee’s advice and pretended to be someone else she was certain she would have been frozen in fear. 
 
Now, all she needed to do was bide her time for a few more hours and she could turn the camera over to Billy.  Her section chief had warned her not to leave before Patrick came to, lest it seem suspicious.  Amanda rubbed her neck; it had been a very long day.  She needed to relax even just for a few minutes.  She looked to the love seat opposite the bed but decided against it—wouldn’t look right if he woke and she wasn’t in bed next to him.  Reluctantly, she slid in beside him and rolled over, as far away from him as possible.  It was silly really, he was out of it and she was fully aware.  What could possibly happen?
 
Amanda heard the gentle tapping of raindrops on the windowsill and slowly opened her eyes, but it was the weight across her chest that brought her truly awake.  Before she had time to think, the weight shifted and its source began languidly stroking her stomach.  She felt Patrick’s wet mouth kissing her neck and tensed, but only for a split second.  Gathering some semblance of control, she took a deep breath and rolled over toward him.
 
Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be as groggy as she’d expected him to be.  The crooked smile he gave her was almost devious.  When he pulled her closer to him she felt just how ‘awake’ he really was. “Oh my gosh!”  She’d have to talk to Leatherneck about the aftereffects of the drug.
 
He laughed at her obvious surprise.   “Good morning, beautiful!”  He cleared his throat as he sat up and wedged the pillow between him and the headboard. 
 
“Good . . . morning.” Amanda pushed herself up and pulled on the hem of her shirt, all the while scoping out her escape route to the bathroom.  She was stopped short when he grasped her wrist.  She looked down where he held her and then quickly to Patrick in a panic.  Had he figured it all out?  Meeting his smile and twinkle of mischief in his eyes, she sighed in relief as she realized he had something altogether different on his mind, of course, that’s when she really began to panic.      
 
“Now where would you be off to so early in the morning on a Saturday, Mandy?  I haven’t even gotten a proper good morning kiss.”
 
“I’m sorry.”  She gave him a quick peck to his lips.  “I forgot I have a meeting in an hour – they told us about it yesterday and when you asked me to dinner last night, it just completely slipped my mind, and well . . . you don’t know this, but rush hour around here, even on Saturday is a bear this time of morning.”  Her ramblings, she’d been told, could get her out of just about anything.  She hoped this time was no exception. 
 
His brow furrowed. 
 
“Remember, I told you I’m working on a big affair.  And well, that means a lot of late nights and weekend work.”  She continued before she could stop herself.
 
“I understand.  I’m just trying to figure out how you said that all so fast and what I have to do to get you to stay.”  He ignored her protests and pulled her down onto him.  Her hands splayed across his bare chest and she bit her lip, unsure of what he was thinking.  She hardly had a chance to catch her breath before his lips crushed against her mouth.  That certainly cleared things up.   
 
Her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest as he continued his un-restrained assault on her mouth.  How would she explain a morning blackout and that was even if she could get him to drink something?  Her eyes darted to the bedside lamp.  She was certain the lamp was bolted down like most furniture in hotel rooms, but the phone . . . His hands were unbuttoning her shirt faster than she could re-button them.  She was in trouble and she didn’t see a way out.  “Patrick, I really do need to go.  I can’t be late for this meeting.”  Didn’t he hear her?  He was like a man possessed.  “Patrick, honey we can’t do this right now.”  His lips were burning a trail down her neck as his hands roamed her semi-exposed chest before doing wicked things to her derrière.   
 
The ringing of the telephone was never a more welcomed sound to her ears.  After letting it ring several times, Patrick reluctantly pulled him self out from under her and angrily answered it, giving her just enough time to zip past him and into the safety of the bathroom, all while pulling her shirt shut. 
 
“Mandy, wait!  I’ll get rid of them!” 
 
“I’ve got to get to that meeting, Patrick!  We can meet up after work.” She ignored his protest and quickly locked the door behind her.  Resting her head against the door, Amanda listened as he practically spit into the phone. 
 
“What?  Listen mate, I’m busy right now!  What?  No, this is a hotel room.  No, I don’t need a bloody subscription to the Post.  Yes, I’m sure!”  He slammed the receiver down and seconds later she saw the doorknob jiggle.  “Mandy, it was just some salesman.  Come on out, lass.” 
 
Amanda stared at her reflection for a moment, checking her appearance.  She hadn’t had to dress that fast since her parents surprised her and Joe by stopping by unannounced shortly after they were married.  She stifled a giggle when the image of Joe rushing to button up what he thought was his shirt but turned out to be his much smaller wife’s blouse.  “I’ll be right out.”  With a heavy sigh, she opened the door and rushed past him and started on another ramble as she grabbed her shoes from the corner of the room. “I’m sorry, but I really do need to go or I’ll be late.”  She struggled to slip her shoes back on before he pushed her intimately up against the wall. 
 
“Why don’t we meet for dinner?  I can meet you at the pub if you’d like and we could grab a bite to eat and then take a walk along your monuments.” 
 
‘Anywhere, as long as we’re around people’, she thought as she felt his lips kiss their way up her neck. “That sounds great.  I’ll call you when I’m close to finishing up at the office.”
 
Patrick nodded as he pulled away from her neck and then leaned in to kiss her square on the mouth.  “Maybe I could pick you up at work.  See what is so great that it’s taking you away from me so early in the morning.” 
 
‘And get a chance to case the joint.’  She mentally added.  “Sure.  That’d be great, see you at five o’clock?”  Amanda pressed her hand against his chest and smiled apologetically pointing to her watch.  “I really am going to be late.  We can continue our ‘discussion’ tonight.”  With a quick peck to his cheek she was gone. 
 
                                                                                                   SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
“Hey . . . it’s over now.”  Lee soothed as he rubbed her back. 
 
She stood trembling, arms crossed near the water looking out over the pond, wishing not for the first time that Lee had never gone to California.
 
Linking his right hand with her left he tugged her toward him.  “Come on, partner.  Let’s head back.  By the look of those clouds overhead, a storm is about to roll in.”
 
She glanced skyward and nodded. 
 
They walked in silence all the way back to Lee’s car.  He was never this quiet.  She was certain he was rethinking what he thought of her after her revelations.
 
He moved around her to open the car door and helped her in.  She gingerly lowered herself into the bucket seat and waited for him to settle in next to her.  As she was about to ask him if she should continue with the story, she saw a look in his eyes she had never seen there before.  It nearly took her breath away.  She was certain that it was shame and disbelief.  Was he that ashamed of her?  She was ashamed of herself that was for sure.  She quickly closed her eyes and pressed her head against the window, idly running the pendent back and forth on the chain around her neck.
 
Ever since their night in the swamp, the walls they had both so covertly constructed seemed to be crumbling around them.  Sure, they hadn’t broken through all the buriers; over the past four months the two of them had been moving toward something more. Each private moment the two of them spent together held so much promise.  
 
Looking over at him now as he drove them toward his apartment, she was certain whatever they were moving towards then was gone now.
 
                                                                                                   SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
They rushed into his building trying to get out of the rain to avoid getting completely drenched.  “Come on, once we get upstairs I’ll start a fire while you get out of those wet clothes.”
 
Amanda nodded as her teeth began to chatter.  She felt like a drowned rat, her hair plastered to the side of her face.  Now looking at her soaked partner, she could see he hadn’t faired any better. 
 
“Come here.” Lee murmured from the corner of the elevator with his arms open.  “Let me warm you up.”   
 
Amanda didn’t hesitate to move into his embrace.  Whether it was her need to get warm or the security of feeling his arms around her, she didn’t care.  It felt too damn good to analyze. 
 
She cursed the quickness of the elevator as it buzzed, notifying them that they had arrived at their destination.  She reluctantly disengaged from his warm embrace and stepped off the elevator. 
 
Amanda accepted the warm tea from her partner and snuggled into the couch.  “Thank you, Lee.”  The warmth of the fire was helping to bring both her body temperature and spirits up.  “And thanks for loaning me some dry clothes.”  His long sleeve grey t-shirt’s sleeves had been rolled up to allow her hands to be free of the fabric.  The navy sweatpants had been cinched at the waist as tightly as possible and the cuffs had been rolled up several inches, but both items still hung from her small frame loosely.  
 
“Oh, it was my pleasure, believe me.”
 
She eyed him skeptically. 
 
“What?  I’m serious.  They never looked that cute on me.”  He winked at her and gave her a dimpled grin. 
 
Amanda could feel the blush rise from her neck and took a big gulp of the hot tea, nearly choking as the burning liquid made it’s way down her throat.  She sat up quickly and put the cup back on the coaster in front of her. 
 
“Are you okay?”  He reached to help her. 
 
Her eyes started to water, but she was able to regain her composure before squeaking out “Fine.” 
 
“Okay then, how about you tell me what happened next?  I believe you had just left the hotel.  Did you rendezvous at the Agency?”
 
“No, we met up at Rock Creek Park.”  She snuggled back in to the softness of the cushions with her mug of tea and continued.
 
                                                                                               SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
8:03 a.m. Saturday, March 8, 1986
 
As if the previous night wasn’t hard enough on her, Amanda had to go over the night’s entire events with her section chief and Agent Efraim Beaman as they stood in the middle of the busy park.  She only hoped Efraim lived by the credo ‘discretion was the better part of valor.’  From their discussion, she had gleaned that he had been the agent across the hall during the wee hours of the night before.  That information neither comforted nor worried her.  If anyone had to be listening to her and Patrick, it was better it was someone benign like Beaman.  Amanda thanked her stars it wasn’t Lee or Francine.  Anyone but them!  Who was she kidding?  Lee never would have let her be put on this case in the first place, let alone sit across the hall while she went through with it. 
 
The way Beaman’s eyes were darting back and forth as Billy went deeper into the details of the case, gave her the distinct impression he was nervous at knowing so much.  She thought back to the way he’d been dressed down by Lee when he left his post on their last case together.  Lee was furious with Beaman for leaving Amanda alone to go off on a ‘hunch.’  Amanda was fully aware how Lee treated other agents when it came to her.  He could be extremely protective and intimidating when he wanted to be.  Most agents were hesitant when assigned as back up on ‘Scarecrow and Mrs. King’s’ cases.  The glory of the collar was usually not worth Scarecrow’s wrath, she figured.
 
“Amanda?”  Her head snapped up at the call of her name to find both men looking at her expectantly. 
 
“I’m sorry, sir.  What was that?” 
 
“Beaman will take the shopping list you found in McGuinnis’ hotel room and put some feelers out.  Those aren’t inexpensive items – He’s going to need some help if he intends to get that all in place by next week.”
 
“Yes, sir,” she nodded trying to seem more focused than she was.  
 
“All right, so continue your ‘relationship’ with him.  We’re sure he’ll be making his move soon.”  Billy turned to leave and almost as an afterthought, added “Amanda, be careful.  He’s a terrorist that would just as soon kill you as look at you.”  His eyes held hers and she nodded before he moved in the direction of the woods.  
 
Amanda stuffed her hands into her jacket and tapped a small rock lying at her feet.  She’d almost forgotten that Efraim was still there until he’d cleared his throat.  Her eyes darted up to meet his in a questioning look. 
 
“I just wanted to say . . .” he looked like he wasn’t going to even try to finish his thought and then she saw in his eyes the resolve to continue.  “You’re doing a great job, Mrs. King.  Scarecrow would be proud.” 
 
“Thank you, Agent Beaman.  That means a lot.”  Amanda looked around quickly to be sure they were alone and then dove right in.  “Efraim, this morning .  .  . when things got a little . . . heated . . . well, did you, I mean were you the . . .”  Her face flushed, she didn’t think she could finish.  She cast her eyes to her feet in embarrassment, but her head shot up when he responded. 
 
“Hey, everyone should have a subscription to the Post.”  With that he winked and shuffled off in the opposite direction that Mr. Melrose had taken moments before. 
 
‘Just when you think you know someone . . .’ Amanda was left alone with a smirk on her face. 
 
                                                                                                     SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
“Remind me to send Beaman some of those cigars he likes so much.”  Lee mused as he wrapped his right arm around the back of the couch and stretched his legs across the coffee table. 
 
Amanda smiled weakly as she stared blankly ahead at the blazing fire.  He was trying to put up a good front, but she saw through it. The way his fist clenched at his side just before he moved it strategically behind her; out of sight was a dead giveaway to his true feelings.  And the always telltale sign, the muscle in his jaw pulsing like an out-of-control strobe light.
 
“Hey . . .” He called soothingly and tilted up her chin to look into her eyes.  “You did what you had to do.  You were a true professional, Amanda.  How could you think I wouldn’t understand that?”
 
“Lee, if you had been there–”
 
“If I had been there you never would have been on this case!”  He stated matter-of-factly sliding his feet to the floor and sat up straight.
 
“Precisely my point, you never would have let me take on this case.  To prove myself.” 
 
“Not because I didn’t think you could pull it off!  I just don’t want anything to ever happen to you, Amanda.  Which, is precisely what happened.”  He rubbed his forehead before tugging his hand through his hair in apparent frustration.  “If I had been there—.”
 
“No,” she cut him off shaking her head and she turned toward him and pulled her leg under her.  “You can’t always protect me, Lee!”  Her index finger poked his side.  “I’m a grown woman.  I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions, Lee.”
 
“I know you are.”  He stopped her finger in mid-poke and gently squeezed never taking his eyes off hers.  “I just don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” he whispered.  He now held her hand and lightly ran his thumb across her knuckles.   
 
Amanda felt his discomfort and attempted to lighten the mood.  “You won’t lose me unless you make me sit here any longer.”  She slowly pulled her hand out of his.  “I’m so stiff!!”
 
Lee smiled.  “Well, we can’t have that now, can we?  Let’s get you in the bathtub.  I meant . . . um, I didn’t mean we . . . uh, I’ll go start the bathwater for you so you can soak . . . alone.”  He stood and held out his hand to help her up.
 
“I’d like that.  Thank you, Lee.”  She couldn’t help but giggle at his discomfort.  ‘He’s even cuter when he’s fumbling over himself.’  She thought as she allowed him to pull her to her feet. 
 
As he rushed out of the room toward his bathroom, she smiled and stretched out the kinks.  She then absently fluffed the pillows on his couch before moving on to organizing the magazines sprawled out on the coffee table. 
 
She jumped when she heard the rich baritone voice of her partner.  “Why don’t you go soak?  I’ll have your prescriptions ready for you when you’re done.”  He pointed toward his bathroom before heading out toward the kitchen.  “Oh, and I left a t-shirt and some shorts for you on my bed to sleep in.  The shorts have a drawstring so you should be able to cinch them up to fit.”  He smiled and shrugged. 
 
“Thank you, Lee.  I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you taking care of me like this.”
 
“Hey, what are partners for?”  He winked.  She forced herself to leave the room before she said or did something stupid.   
 
                                                          "What a cruel thing war is . . . to fill our hearts with hatred instead of love for our neighbors."  
                                                                                                                                       Robert E. Lee
 
After soaking in the tub until the water had turned tepid, she dragged herself out and dried herself off.  She then slipped into the clothes Lee had laid out for her.  Luckily, the black t-shirt came down to just above her knees because the grey shorts, while they did have a drawstring waist, were very short.  She wondered briefly if he picked them for their length, or lack there of, rather than their cinch-ability.  Why did he have such short shorts anyway?  She mentally shook the thought from her head, not wanting to follow that rabbit down the hole.  More importantly, the clothes were comfortable.  There was something very intimate about wearing his clothes.  There it was again, that flutter in her stomach.  It was making an appearance in her life more and more these days.  She sighed as she towel dried her hair before running a comb through it. 
 
Standing on her tiptoes, she used a hand towel to wipe the fogged mirror and stared at her reflection.  She had to admit, she felt better than she had; she was more relaxed and felt almost human again.  It had been quite a week to say the least.  If someone had told her a week ago that she would be standing in her handsome partner’s bathroom smelling of his shampoo and soap, wearing his clothes, she would have told them they were crazy, but here she stood . . . while he was out there.  Amanda glanced at the door to the bedroom and sighed in resolve.  It was now or never . . .
 
She found Lee sitting on the couch watching the news.  He quickly turned it off when she sat down next to him. 
 
“Feel better?”  He queried, placing his left arm on the back of the couch. 
 
“Much.  Thank you.”       
 
“Well, I grabbed you a glass of water to take with your pain medication.”  He indicated the glass and white, round tablet sitting on the coffee table in front of her. 
 
“Uh-uh.”  She shook her head.  “I really prefer not to take that again.  It made me so sick last night, Lee.”
 
“A-man-da!  You got sick because you chased it with a big glass of scotch!”  He picked up the glass and placed it into her hand and then placed the small pill into her other palm.  “Your body needs to heal, this will help.  Doctor’s orders.” 
 
“Since when do you follow doctor’s orders anyway?”  She sighed in surrender before throwing back the pill and gulping the water down.  She stuck her tongue out at him to show him she’d done what he’d asked and to show him she wasn’t happy. 
 
“I started following orders when I found my best friend passed out on my couch.”  His voice quivered and he reached out to hold her hand.  “And I’ll do whatever it takes to get her healthy again.”  He sighed and let go of her hand before rubbing the back of his neck. 
 
She swallowed hard and patted his knee before looking down at her feet.  That was one of the sweetest things he had ever said to her.  She’d surely lose it if they made eye contact now. 
 
“Hey, let’s get this cream on so you can get some shut eye, huh?”  He grabbed the tube sitting on the coffee table and quickly unscrewed the cap. 
 
And like that, his mask was back in place.  She sat up straighter as he came closer to her, pressing his knee to hers forcing her to open up her legs to let him wiggle in between her legs.   
 
“Honestly, Lee I can do this myself.  You don’t have to baby me.”
 
“Would you just let me help you, Partner?”  He gave her his best stern look, but it fell short when he winked, and she smiled.
 
“Oh!  That hurts!”  Amanda sucked in her lip and could taste a hint of blood on her tongue.  “Don’t make me laugh, Lee!  Ooooh!  My lip is bleeding again.”
 
“Let me see.”  With a look of concern evident on his face, he held her chin in his hand and examined her mouth.  “You know, I’ve found that keeping them lubricated --”
 
Amanda’s eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Oh brother!  Really, Scarecrow?” She giggled at his obvious embarrassment.  Was that a blush she saw on his handsome face?
 
“I meant . . . using Vaseline or Chap Stick helps them from splitting back open.”  He shook his head and smirked at her.   
 
Amanda stared into her partner’s hazel eyes as he still held her chin in his hand, and she absently licked her dry split lips. 
 
That must have been his undoing because it was then that he released her chin and slid his hand to the back of her neck, her breath seemingly being sucked out of her as he slowly pulled her to him.
 
His eyes locked with hers, as if requesting permission to continue.  She closed her eyes in response and was rewarded with the most tender kiss she’d ever experienced.  The moment his lips touched hers she felt almost an electric current pulsing through her body.  She was certain she never wanted that feeling to end, so when he pulled away she couldn’t help the quiet whimper that escaped. 
 
She opened her eyes only long enough to pull him back to her to continue kissing him.  Amanda knew he was holding back, afraid he would hurt her.  At that moment she wasn’t feeling any pain and didn’t want this moment to end, so she slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, virtually locking him to her.  Her right hand playing with the nape of his neck before her nails did what she hoped were unimaginable things to his scalp.  She felt a sense of power when he groaned in response and she could feel tiny goose bumps forming on the back of his neck.     
 
With his hands on her upper arms, he pulled her back with him against the couch, their lips never leaving each other and then he deepened the kiss and she willingly opened to allow his tongue to plunder her mouth.  She could feel his heart rapidly beating in time with hers, which oddly calmed her.  His warm hands slowly made their way to her hips, and then slid up the inside of her blouse, grazing her ribs. 
 
Despite the heady feeling his touches were causing, memories came flooding back from the evening before when Patrick had beaten her in a punishing rampage.
 
6:08 p.m. Friday, March 14, 1986
 
Patrick’s hands were now digging into her ribs, causing her to scream out in pain.  Her previous attempts to fight back seemed to only fuel his rage, resulting in a split lip, and a sock in the eye, that she was certain would swell shut in no time.  Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, his large hands were wrapped around her neck again and he squeezed tightly.  As she gasped for precious air, he glared at her with clenched teeth, spitting as he screamed unintelligible things at her.  “Youuuuu . . . Liar!  Never trust . . . Women!  Stupid!” 
 
Amanda grasped at his hands, her nails gouging into his hands, while kicking him repeatedly as hard as she could.  Just as she started seeing white stars from the lack of air, he released his vice grip from around her neck and she crumpled to the floor. Apparently, he finally had enough and, pulled out his 9mm gun, then yanked her to her feet before aiming the gun at her head. 
 
“It’s a shame, Lass.  You’re much too pretty to go out like this.”  His free hand slid down her neck to the opening of her blouse, smiling menacingly at her as he groped her breast roughly.  “I had much bigger plans for you . . . for us.”  He cocked the gun in his right hand, while grabbing a handful of her hair in his left, forcing her to him.  When he clamped down onto her mouth and shoved his tongue into her mouth for several seconds she fought the bile down in her throat.  “Perhaps before I kill you, we can have that romp that we missed out on after you drugged me.”  He growled and then winked before ripping her shirttails from her dress pants and unzipped his jeans, his intent frighteningly clear.
 
Knowing it was now or never, Amanda pulled her leg up and kicked him square in his groin, socked him in the throat, and then took the element of surprise to quickly knock the gun out of his hand with her elbow, just as Francine had shown her, not too long ago.  The gun skidded across the tile floor and under the bed, before she finally heard it slam against the wall.  The man’s howls of pain echoed throughout the small room. 
 
She scrambled to the door, hands trembling, as she attempted to open it.  The sounds of him groaning and trying to right himself, urged her on.  Finally she threw the door open and flew down the stairs of the motel to the parking lot below.  Running as fast as she could to the busy intersection in search of a cab, police officer, a helpful bystander, anyone that could help her escape the madman that was determined to kill her. 
 
She sucked in sharply as Lee’s hands gently squeezed her ribs. 
 
“Oh, God!  Amanda I’m sorry! I hurt you.”  Lee pulled his hands out from under her blouse as if he was burned. 
 
“No, I’m fine; really, Lee.  She pulled his hands into her lap, refusing to let go. “I promise, I’m fine.  It’s just a bit tender there.” 
 
“The look in your eyes is proof that it’s more than a ‘little tender’, Amanda.  Let me see.  Lift your shirt up.”
 
“Geez, Scarecrow!  Aren’t you moving a little fast?”  She teased trying to distract him.
 
“A-man-da!”  He warned.  “I saw the pain in your eyes when I touched you.  Now let me see, dammit!”  He tugged on the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it passed her rib cage.  Obviously not carrying that her bra-covered breasts were exposed. 
 
“L-e-e.”  She pleaded as she attempted to pull her shirt back down to cover the black and blue handprints that covered her torso.  Finally getting him to release the hem, she pulled it down, straightening some imaginary wrinkles, and she sighed.
 
“Jesus, Amanda!  He untangled himself from her and stood from the couch abruptly and paced the length of the couch.  “Why didn’t you tell me how bad this was?” 
 
“Flashback.”  She muttered. 
 
“I wouldn’t have -- Wait, what did you say?”  He halted his pacing and stared down at her. 
 
“It didn’t hurt that badly.  I just . . . flashed back to when . . . he was hurting me.” She whispered and then looked up to the ceiling to keep the tears from falling.
 
Lee rushed over to her and sat down next to her.  He pulled down her chin to force her to look him in the eyes.  “Hey, you’re here with me.  He can’t hurt you anymore.  I won’t let him.  You hear me, Amanda?”  He dipped his head down and kissed her tenderly, careful to avoid the battered side of her mouth. 
 
She attempted to stifle a yawn when her partner came back for a second kiss.  “Oh, Lee.  I’m sorry.  It’s that damn medicine you made me take.  I can’t seem to keep my eyes open.” 
 
“I see how it is, Mrs. King.”  He feigned a pout.  “You get what you want and then fall asleep on me.”  He joked.  “Alright, young lady.”  He stood up and grasped her hand to help her off the couch.  “Time for you to get some sleep.” 
 
Amanda kept hold of his hand and pulled him to her.  “Will you stay with me?” she whispered.  Her eyes growing heavy, she fought to keep them open. 
 
“Are you sure?  I don’t want to hurt you . . .” The double meaning of his statement was not lost on either of the unlikely pair.  “I mean, I don’t want to rollover and hurt you.”
 
“Just hold me and then you won’t rollover onto me.”  She said logically and tugged on his hand toward the bedroom. 
 
5:48 a.m. Sunday, March 16, 1986
 
Lee awoke to the sounds of whimpering and felt Amanda struggling against him.  After a moment, he cleared the cobwebs from his head and tried to wake her from her nightmare.  “Hey, hey . . . wake up, Amanda.  You’re having a bad dream.”  She gasped for air as he held her by her wrists so she wouldn’t hurt either of them in her struggle to awaken. 
 
“Lee?  Where am I?”  The moonlight played across her face and he could see she was disoriented. 
 
“You’re with me in my apartment.  You’re safe.  Just relax, okay?”  He released her wrists and rubbed her back soothingly. You must have had a bad dream.  Do you want to talk about it?” 
 
He watched as her right hand made its way to her swollen left eye and then to her split lip, as if taking inventory of her ailments. 
 
“It wasn’t all a bad dream then?”  She questioned disappointedly. 
 
“No, it happened.  But you’re safe now.  Why don’t you tell me what your dream was about?”  He knew from experience that it was best to analyze the nightmares in order to work it all out consciously in order for the subconscious to let it go. 
 
“It wasn’t a dream.  I was reliving what happened.  It all really happened, Lee,” she cried. 
 
“It’s okay now.  Tell me what happened,” he soothed. 
 
“I was leaving the embassy Thursday night, we were supposed to meet for dinner, but as I got into my car he grabbed the door just as I was shutting it.  It startled me.
 
“Patrick!  You scared me.  What are you doing here?  I thought we were meeting at the restaurant at six?”  She could tell from his dilated eyes that something was very wrong.
 
“I couldn’t wait that long to see you, Mandy.”  She didn’t like the way he spoke her name, almost as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
 
“I really need to go home to freshen up.  Why don’t I meet you at your hotel?”  She didn’t know what was going on, but she knew she had to get away from him.
 
“That’s silly, lass.  You look beautiful.  Let’s just go together from here.”  He pushed her a little too roughly over to the passenger seat.  “I’ll drive.” 
 
“Patrick?  What’s going on?”
 
When he didn’t respond she stared out the windshield thinking over what had transpired since they were last together.  Had she said something that gave her away?  She was certain she hadn’t but ran the mental tape over in her mind just to be sure.  She had only driven back and forth to her ‘office’ at the embassy, and back to the apartment the Agency had set up for her after she had made contact with McGuinnis.  Her only contact with the Agency had been in the park with Billy and Efraim, but that had been over a week ago. Since then, she had only spoken with Francine at the embassy in case he was watching her.  So what happened?  What caused him to turn so cold overnight? 
 
She was drawn from her thoughts as he pulled into a shady looking no-tell motel on the outskirts of D.C. 
 
“Why are we here, Patrick?  What’s going on?”  Her stomach began to twist.
 
“Didn’t I tell you, lass?  I switched hotels.  The other one had too many people milling about and their drinks tasted funny, don’t you think?”  He looked at her pointedly. 
 
She reached for the handle of her door, but stopped when she heard the distinct click of a gun behind her.  “Uh uh.”  Shaking his head, he grabbed her left arm and yanked her roughly through the driver’s side door.  She had the wind knocked out of her when he slammed her against the rear passenger door, her head bouncing off the hard steel of the car frame.  She sucked in when he ran the muzzle of the gun down her neck to her breastbone.  He grabbed the back of her head and brought her ear to his mouth and he whispered harshly, “Later, lass.” 
 
He quickly ran his hand down the outside of her left leg, then moved to the outside of her right leg before slowly traveling up the inside of both legs.  Staying a bit too long at the apex of her thighs.  His eyes locked with hers as he continued his search, squeezing her hips tightly before running his hand inside the front and back of her shirt.  He left no part of her untouched.  His stale breath lingered near her ear and whispered, “I guess I was right.  You are an actress in a way, aren’t you Mandy?  Or do you prefer ‘Mrs. King?’” 
 
Amanda’s eyes closed tightly.  The gig was up.  How was she going to get out of this?  Francine and Efraim weren’t planning to meet up with her until six at the restaurant.  No one at the Agency knew where she was.  She was going to have to rely on herself if she were going to get out of this alive. 
 
He nudged her toward the rickety stairs to the second floor of rooms and she complied.  Her eyes darted around in search of a makeshift weapon, but came up empty. Before she knew it, she was shoved into the dark-paneled, foul-smelling room and fell to the floor with a thud between the table and bed. 
 
“Patrick, I don’t understand why are you doing this?” she cried. 
 
“For fucks sake, Mandy! The charade is over!  Call me by real name!  Sean McGuinnis!  And you’re Amanda King, not Keane!  You work as an agent for the Agency, not a coordinator for the White House.”  His voice dripped of disgust.  He reached down and grasped her throat, pulling her to her feet, not caring that she was gasping for air. 
 
“I . . . don’t know . . . what you’re . . . talking—”
 
“Quit lying to me!”  His hold on her throat only tightened. 
 
She frantically clawed at his hand with both of hers trying to get him to release the hold on her.  Amanda kicked at his shin as hard as she could in an attempt to get him to let her breathe.  He let go and with fire in his eyes, backhanded her across the face, sending shockwaves up the entire left side of her face.  He gave her another smack for good measure.  At that moment she was certain she had lost all of her upper teeth. 
 
Amanda fingered her front teeth before relaying to Lee the rest of the events in the motel with Patrick . . . or rather Sean, including how she had escaped.
 
The entire time that she explained what she had gone through, Lee had been soothingly rubbing her back for support.  He still couldn’t quite believe that this beautiful, lithe woman in his arms was as tough and resilient as she was.  ‘That’s my Amanda.’  He thought proudly.  ‘Wait, my Amanda?’  Yeah, he guessed she was his, just like he was hers.  They were partners, best friends, and he hoped they would be each other’s saviors.  He pulled her closer into his arms and just held her as the sun started to peek through the windows. 
 
Amanda awoke alone in Lee’s bed.  As she sat up she glanced at the clock, it was a few minutes before eight.  She must have fallen back asleep after her nightmare.  Lee had been so understanding as she had replayed the events of her real life nightmare.  He really was a good friend, and more; if the kisses they had shared the night before were any indication of their future relationship.  She was pulled from her reverie when she heard the front door open and close. 
 
She pulled herself from the bed and into the bathroom.  She was surprised to see the swelling had gone down and her coloring had started to return.  It was still a mosaic of blues and purples, but it was lighter and the telltale healing color of yellow was now joining the mix.  She felt better than she had in the past two days, but the achy-feeling was still in the foreground.  With a spring in her step, she made her way to the living room in search of her partner. 
 
“Good morning, sleepy head.”  Lee’s voice was deep and soothing to her ears. 
 
“Morning, Lee.”  She watched him pull delicious looking pastries from a brown paper bag and place them on two small plates.  Grabbing a couple of mugs, she waited for the coffee maker to finishing sputtering before pouring them both a cup.  She added cream to his cup and sugar to hers. 
 
“I ran down to the bakery around the corner for some breakfast.  I also picked up something else . . . for you.”  At her raised brow, he handed her a tube of lip balm.  “Medicated.  For your lips.”
 
“Oh, Lee.  That was so thoughtful.  Thank you.”  She popped the cap off and carefully applied the balm before placing the cap back on.  
 
He gave her a tender kiss on her newly moistened lips.  “Mmmmh.  See, I told you, much better.” He murmured before picking up the plates holding the pastries and led her into the dining room. 
 
“Those look delicious, Lee.  Thanks for going.”  She handed him his mug as she joined him at the table. 
 
“Thanks.  So, after breakfast I figured we could stop by your place so you can change and maybe pack a bag for the rest of the week before we head to the Agency to figure out how to catch this bastard.”  He glanced up and looked into her eyes expectantly. 
 
“Are you sure you want me to stay here?  I mean I can go back to my house tonight.  My family won’t be back until later this week.”  She secretly hoped he would refuse to let her leave, not wanting to stay at the house alone.   
 
“Until we get McGuinnis into Agency custody, I don’t think it’s smart for you to be alone.  He already tried to kill you once, let’s not give him another shot, huh?” 
 
The look in his eyes made her suck in her breath.  How could one look convey so much . . . love?  Did he love her like she knew she loved him?  With every ounce of her being she knew she loved him. 
 
“Amanda?  Hello, are you with me?”  
 
He was waving his hand a few inches from her face.  Startled, she quickly replied. “What?  Oh, I’m sorry.  Yeah, it sounds like a good plan, Lee.  Maybe, if we have time I could call Mother and the boys?”  She looked hopeful.
 
He nodded.  “Of course.  I’m sure it would do you some good to check in with them.” 
 
“Just give me a minute to put the scrubs back on that they gave me at the Agency clinic last night and then we can head over to my place.” 
   
He nodded and finished the last few bites of his pastry before picking up the plates and carrying them toward the kitchen.  She stopped abruptly when she reached the bedroom door and turned to face Lee’s retreating form.  “Lee?”  When he turned back toward her, his eyebrows quirked up.  “Thanks.”  She knew it wasn’t enough, but she hoped the one word would convey to him how much she appreciated his support and understanding.  What would she have done if he hadn’t come home early?  She shivered at the thought of having to go through this alone, or more specifically, without Lee. 
 
                                                                                                  SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
“Amanda, how are you feeling?”  Billy Melrose all but ignored Lee when they walked in, his concern for the housewife-turned-spy evident on his face. 
 
“I’m fine, sir.  Thank you.”  She moved to one of the open seats and sat down.
 
Lee seemed to be the only one in the room to notice that she was winded from the short walk they made from the elevator to the conference room.  He grabbed a glass from the center of the table and poured a glass of water before placing it in front of her along with one of her pain pills. 
 
She gave him a small smile as a ‘thank you’ and then swallowed down the pill.
 
Lee pulled his vision from his partner in time to see Francine precede Beaman into the room and then close the door behind them. 
 
Billy nodded to the group as they sat looking up to him expectantly.  “Okay, so we had a bit of a break yesterday.  Francine, why don’t you fill Lee and Amanda in?”
 
“I checked with my sources and one them heard through the grapevine that McGuinnis was out shopping his list around.”
 
“We expected that!”  Lee interrupted, a bit frustrated.
 
“Hang on, Scarecrow!”  Billy warned.  “Francine?”  Billy indicated for her to continue. 
 
“Like I was saying, my source says that McGuinnis was shopping the list Amanda found in his hotel room around town and thinks he found his source; some guy with a limousine service on the outskirts of Virginia.  I’m just waiting for a confirmation on his location.”
 
Lee and Amanda shared a look before Lee sighed and responded.  “No need, Francine.  I should have known he’d be involved.”
 
“Isn’t that list a bit too high-level for Augie, Lee?”  Amanda questioned.
 
“He’s been trying to elevate his side business over the past year and it looks like he’s succeeded.  Sounds like we’ll be giving him a visit after we’re through here, Amanda.”
 
She nodded in agreement. 
 
“So what else do we have, people?”  Billy questioned the group.    
 
“Sir, have we determined how Pat . . . uh McGuinnis figured out I was with the Agency?”  Amanda asked hesitantly.
 
Lee knew she blamed herself and worried something the other agents pieced together would confirm her assumption. 
 
“Actually, yes, Amanda.  It seems McGuinnis used one of our analysts to sniff you out.”  Billy nodded to Francine and she passed around a 5”x7” photo of an attractive, young woman with brown hair and green eyes to the group. 
 
Francine spoke robotically as she recited the analyst’s stats.  “Sarah Nobles, 28 years-old, started with the Agency nearly three years ago right out of Stanford.  She was being fast-tracked for bigger and better things here.” 
 
“Was?”  Amanda quietly interrupted.
 
“Yes, that’s how we determined she was the leak to your true identity, Amanda.”  Beaman replied.  “She missed work on Thursday and again on Friday.  When her supervisor called her roommate things just weren’t adding up.  It wasn’t until the police report for a car bombing in Virginia came through that we put two and two together.” 
 
Francine continued where Agent Beaman left off.  “After looking through some mug shots, the roommate confirmed Ms. Nobles had started dating McGuinnis shortly after the time you connected with him, Amanda.” 
 
Lee pulled Amanda’s hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze.  Not for the first time he thought about how easily that could have been Amanda’s fate. 
Amanda looked up from the table when he took her hand and he could see she was fighting back tears.  She took a big sigh and swallowed.  Seconds later, she sat up straighter and had a determined look on her face.  There was his partner.  She was able to compartmentalize when needed.  They would get through this together. 
 
“It was late Wednesday or early Thursday.”  Amanda mumbled.
 
“What, Amanda?”  The room stared at her in confusion. 
 
“He must have gotten my identity out of her late Wednesday or early Thursday.”
 
“How do you know that?”  Lee queried. 
 
“He was normal . . . as normal as he could be when we were together on Wednesday night.  When he found me in the embassy parking lot on Thursday evening, he was . . . different.  He knew then who I really was and he was angry.” 
 
He squeezed her hand to bring her back to the present and she sent him a look, conveying to him that she was okay. 
 
“Sir, did anyone look into what Agent Nobles was working on?”
 
“Yes, we had a team combing through her computer and any files she had recently pulled.  Nothing appeared out of the ordinary.”
 
“What about her apartment, sir?” 
 
“They struck out there as well.”  Francine interjected.  “There wasn’t much.  The team brought back a small box of papers and journals, but Crypto found nothing.”
 
“Hmmm.”  She murmured.
 
Lee knew that sound.  He knew she wasn’t satisfied with the answer Francine had given.  He was certain they would be stopping by Cryptology to check out the analyst’s belongings so she could check them out for herself.
 
“Okay, Amanda and I will find Augie and see how much McGuinnis was able to pull together in the short amount of time.  Francine and Beaman, why don’t you get over to the Embassy and flash his picture around, see if anyone has seen him hanging around.”  They both nodded and headed toward the door. 
 
“Uh, Beaman?  Can you hold up a minute?”  Lee asked and Agent Beaman held back.  Lee looked to Amanda and nodded toward the bullpen.  “Can you give us a minute?”
 
“Sure, I’ll grab us some coffee to go.  That pill is making me a little sleepy.”  She smiled and nodded toward Beaman. 
“What’s up, Scarecrow?”  Beaman questioned nervously. 
 
“I just wanted to uh, I mean, Amanda told me how you helped her when she was . . . uh with McGuinnis.  Thanks for looking out for her . . . well, when I couldn’t.”  Lee stuck his hand out to shake the other agent’s hand and noticed the other man flinched, as if he expected Lee to hit him. 
 
Beaman looked wide-eyed at Lee and then visibly relaxed before shaking his hand in return.  “Of course, I couldn’t stand by and have him –”
 
“Yeah, well thanks.”  Lee cut the other agent off and ushered him out of the conference room.  He didn’t need to hear the rest of that sentence.  The thought of that Irish bastard touching his Amanda made his blood boil.  He put his agent face back in place and met up with his partner who was patiently holding two Styrofoam cups of coffee near the entrance to the bullpen.  They had to see a man about a bomb . . . that is after they stopped by Crypto.
 
“Uh oh!”  Augie Swann jumped up nervously from behind his desk when he saw Lee enter the make shift office.  “Uh . . . I mean, hey chief!  To what do I owe the pleasure?  Oh, and lovely Mrs. King!”  He said looking past Lee.  “Whoa, Mrs. King what happened to your face?”  Augie’s face contorted as he looked at Amanda closely.  Lee kept himself between the two, shielding Amanda from the shmuck in front of him. 
 
“Seriously, Augie?”  Why did Lee always feel like hitting something when he was around Augie Swann?  And usually it was Augie he wanted to hit.  
 
“Are you okay, Mrs. K.?  I’m sorry.  I just wasn’t expecting . . . I mean, you’re all –”
 
“Okay, Swann!  Why don’t you just shut up, huh?”  Lee shook his head in disgust.  Did the man have any manners?  Lee squeezed Amanda’s hand and looked at her apologetically. It had taken a lot of coaxing to get her to agree to go out in public with her shiner and split lip, now she’d never believe him again.  Besides, it really did look a hell of a lot better than it did when he first saw her lying on his couch.  The way it was healing, it would hardly be noticeable in a day or two. 
 
“It’s okay, Lee.”  Amanda patted his arm.  “I’m fine, Mr. Swann.  Thank you for your concern,” she called to him.     
 
“Listen, Augie tell us what you know about the deal you just brokered with Sean McGuinnis.  We know you were involved.”
 
“Sean who?  Lee, I don’t know—”
 
“Cut the crap, Augie!  This is serious shit!  Not like those low level gigs you’ve had in the past.  This guy is in the big leagues, my friend.”  Lee grabbed Augie by his shirt lapels and shoved him in Amanda’s direction.  “Do you see my partner over there?  That’s McGuinnis’ work.  He didn’t even blink an eye at beating a woman.  What do you think he’ll do to you when he needs to clean up his loose ends, huh?”
 
“He did that to you, Mrs. K.?” he asked disbelievingly.
 
Amanda nodded.  “He would have killed me if I hadn’t gotten away, Augie.”
 
“Come on, Augie!”  Lee shook him for emphasis.
 
“Okay, okay!  What do you want to know?”
 
“Everything!  Who’d you hook him up with?  What are we up against?”
 
“I introduced him to Vinnie.” 
 
“Not ‘Black-Market Vinnie!’  Oh, Augie!”  Lee rubbed his temples. 
 
“I’m sorry, Lee.  I didn’t know what kind of guy I was dealing with.”
 
“You didn’t—Augie, he was looking to buy enough C-4 to blow up a city block.  What did you think he was planning to do?  Hell, his Irish accent should have been a dead give away!”
 
“He’s Irish?  I thought he was from England!”
 
“Oh, Augie!”  Lee shook his head in disgust and watched Amanda squeeze her eyes shut and shake her head. 
 
“Okay, Augie.  Take a look at this list.  Amanda?”  He indicated for her to show Augie the copy of the list that she had found in McGuinnis’ hotel room. 
 
Amanda pulled the folded up piece of paper from her back pocket and opened it up before handing it to the would-be middleman.  “Augie, do you know if Vinnie was able to fill this list?”  Amanda questioned. 
 
The man brought the list over to the window and reviewed it thoughtfully.  “Uh yeah, unfortunately, Mrs. K. and then some.” 
 
She shot a worried glance at Lee and sighed.  “Don’t worry, partner.  We’ve still got time before the conference,” he reassured her as he grabbed her hand and made for the exit. 
 
They were stopped in their tracks when Augie stepped between them and the doorframe of his office.  “Hold up, Lee.  I mean, if this guy is as bad as you say, shouldn’t you take me into protective custody or something?” 
 
“No way, Augie!” Lee cringed at the idea. 
 
“Come on, man!  Look what he did to Mrs. King!  He wouldn’t think twice about killing me!  You said so yourself.”  
 
“Just take a trip out of town for a week or so, Augie.”
 
“L-e-e!  We have to help him!” Amanda chastised. 
 
“Yeah, listen to Mrs. King, Lee!” 
 
“Fine!  Fine!  I’ll make a call to the office and have an agent pick you up, that is unless you want me to stuff you into my trunk now?” he growled.
 
“No, no.  I can wait.  Thanks, buddy!”  He patted Lee’s shoulder.
 
Lee scowled at the other man’s ministrations until he stopped.  “Now move before I save McGuiness the trouble and kill you myself.”  He held out his hand to his partner.  “Come on, Amanda.”
 
                                                                                                        SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
After getting a location on Vinnie, Lee and Amanda paid him a visit and confirmed that McGuinnis had secured all the items on his wish list.  Lee had then placed a call to Billy from his car to give him an update while Amanda sat next to him diligently reading through Agent Nobles’ journal.  After finishing his call to their supervisor, he turned off the car and stepped out of the car and walked around to open Amanda’s door.  At her look of confusion, he pointed toward the diner to indicate it was time for lunch.  She took his proffered hand and stepped out, leaving the journal under the seat.
 
Now as they sat in the booth in the corner of the restaurant, Lee filled her in on his call.  “Billy confirmed that Beaman and his crew are flashing McGuinnis’ photo all over town and Francine’s got a group of agents blanketing the embassy.”  Lee stated as he dipped his sandwich into the au jus.  “Oh, and I told him to get those agents sitting on your house to a less conspicuous spot.” 
 
“Good.  I mean if I spotted them as soon as we came down the street, he’d spot them in a second.  Do you think he’ll really show up there?” 
 
“Well, you are unfinished business for him and based on what you said, he’s obviously taken your “betrayal” very personally.  Hey, did you find anything in that analyst’s journal?”
 
“Nothing yet.  So far she’s only mentioned that they met.  You know, he really does stick to the same MO; single woman, knowledgeable, but not too in the know that it would set off alarm bells, and gets close quickly before they have time to realize what he’s really up to.”
 
“He sticks with what works.”
 
“Making him very predictable,” she added.   
 
“Exactly.”
 
Amanda stabbed a tomato from her salad and popped it into her mouth.  “So, we know he won’t go back to either of the hotel rooms he was staying at, but if he does we’ll catch him.”  Amanda inwardly cringed at the thought of the time she’d spent in both of those rooms. 
 
“Right.  So where does that leave us?” 
 
“Well, we know he’s already taken custody of the materials from Vinnie.  He’s got less than a day before the conference.  So . . . he’s got to be building the bomb, right?”  She looked at him expectantly. 
 
“More than likely, yes.”  He nodded. 
 
“He’s going to need to be somewhere secluded.  I mean he wouldn’t want to be interrupted or discovered.  Right?” she asked with raised brows.  
 
“Right . . .” He watched her through narrow eyes wondering exactly where she was going. 
 
“And he certainly wouldn’t want to travel too far once he’s made the bomb to get to the embassy, right?” 
 
“So, we’re looking for a secluded building near the embassy that will afford him the space and the privacy he needs to build the bomb.”  He smiled at the logical woman sitting across from him.  He was right three years ago when he said she would make a good agent one day.  Maybe he wasn’t completely right back then.  She was turning out to be a great agent. 
 
“What are you smiling about, Scarecrow?”  She eyed him suspiciously.
 
“I was just thinking how amazing you are and how far you’ve come from the woman I begged to help me that day at the train station.”
 
“Little did I know I would be helping you for the next three years!”  She scoffed at him.
 
His fingers intimately played with the fingers of her left hand.  “We’ve only just begun, Amanda and I’ve got no plans to let you go.”  He looked longingly into her eyes, hoping to convey the sincerity of his words.                 
 
She blushed and then cleared her throat in obvious embarrassment. 
 
“So, how was your call with your family?  Are the boys having fun at your Aunt’s?”
 
“Oh, yeah.  They love spending time on her farm.  My mother even seems to be having fun.  Usually, she and my aunt argue the entire time they’re together, but the boys said it’s been pretty peaceful.” 
 
“Well, good.  One less thing for you to worry about.”
 
“Yeah.” 
 
He squeezed her hand before taking a swig of his iced tea.  “What do you say we get back to the Agency and see if we can pinpoint a list of possible locations?”
 
She nodded.  “Let’s go!”
 
At a payphone two blocks from the British Embassy . . .
 
“Aye, Cassie.  We’re still on schedule.  I picked up the goods this morning.”  He flicked his cigarette and nervously scanned the street. 
 
“Cop on, Cass!  I didn’t let the little spy get the better of me.”  He glanced at his bruised knuckles and then tightened his fist in frustration. 
 
“No, don’t fret, the game’s not over.  I’ve been ahead of the Agency the entire time.  They will all pay the price, including those pigs attending the conference who are responsible for killing our father.” 
 
“Bollocks!  This is our war, not theirs!  We don’t need them.”  He took a drag of his cigarette to calm his nerves.  She always got him so worked up trying to include his old mates.  They weren’t there when he really needed them, so why would he need them now?    
 
“Yeah, I gotta go, sis.  I’ll call you when this is all through.”
 
“Give ma a kiss for me and tell her I’ll be home soon.  See ya after.”
 
As he hung up the phone, he once again scanned the vicinity for anything out of place.  He found everything as it should be and reached down for his backpack before heading out of the phone booth toward the abandoned warehouse he had claimed as his own the night before.  It was perfect; empty, far enough away from nosey neighbors, but within walking distance of the embassy and best of all it afforded him enough space to spread out his materials without tripping over him self.  When building a bomb, it was not smart to have the potential of bumping into something that would blow you to bits. 
 
After a couple of blocks of wandering the streets, certain he wasn’t being followed, he wound his way back to the warehouse to continue work on his gift for the British diplomats and the others who continued to turn a blind eye to the war going on in his homeland.  They would soon know the pain that he and his brothers and sisters lived everyday.    
 
                                                                                                    SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
6:43 p.m. Sunday, March 16, 1986
 
“I’m telling you, Amanda you were great!  You lead that meeting, not me.”  He praised her as they made their way down the hallway to his apartment.
 
“Oh come on, Lee.  I didn’t do anything special.  I just explained the theory we came--” 
 
“You came up with,” he interrupted.  Opening the door, he allowed her to enter ahead of him.  He threw his keys on the entry table and then helped her off with her coat.  “Thanks to your theory, we have a dozen agents combing a 10-block area centered around the embassy.  We’ll find him, Amanda.”  
 
She shrugged off his compliment and hoped beyond hope that her theory held water and that they would stop this mad man before anyone else was hurt. 
 
“Why don’t you have a seat while I get us some wine.  How does Chinese sound?  I can call in an order for delivery,” he called from the kitchen.
 
She kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the sofa.  “Sounds perfect.”  Amanda leaned her head back into the cushion and closed her eyes.  While she was certainly feeling much better than she had a few days ago, she was still a bit sore and quite tired.  At least she hadn’t needed a pain pill since the one Lee gave her earlier that morning.  Shortly thereafter she made the decision that it would be her last.  She couldn’t take the way they made her feel, so out of sorts.   
 
She was slightly startled when she felt tender lips upon hers and then those same lips slowly make their way down her neck.  Through drowsy eyes, she saw him hovering above her from behind the sofa and she took in a deep soothing breath.  She held it briefly before letting it out when she felt his strong fingers teasing up and down her arms.
 
“You’re beautiful, you know.”  His rich baritone voice poured over her like warm honey. 
 
“I am?” Her voice sounded far away to her own ears.  She sat up and turned to look at him.  He grasped the hand she held out to him and allowed her to guide him to sit next to her.
 
“Oh yeah, very.”  He continued his assault on her lips once he settled next to her and she laughed.  He pulled back to look her in the eyes.  “What?”
 
“Nothing.  I’m just not used to this kind of attention from you.  It takes some getting used to.  You know, if I had known all it took—” his mouth descended on hers and she swallowed down the words, which she was sure was his intent. 
 
“Don’t.  I don’t want to think about what could have happened to you.  How I wasn’t there to protect you.”
 
“Lee --”
 
“Amanda, let’s just enjoy our time together tonight.  Tomorrow’s going to be a long, grueling day.”
 
She smiled and nodded before slinking her hand around the back of his head to pull him toward her.  “Whatever you say, Scarecrow.”  Her lips crushed his and she felt a warmth surround her soul like no other.   
 
                                                                                            SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
6:48 a.m. Monday, March 17, 1986
 
Amanda watched the buildings pass by as Lee drove them expertly to the British Embassy where they would begin their final search for Sean McGuinnis.  She only hoped the Agency team had made some progress overnight. 
 
The sleek corvette pulled up to the curb and Lee took in a deep breath before letting it out.  He squeezed her hand and broke the silence that had plagued the vehicle since they started the trip.  “Are you ready, Amanda?”
 
“Yeah.”  She smiled weakly, reached for the door handle and stepped out of the car. 
 
The two of them walked over to Billy who was giving out orders to a handful of agents on the front steps.  “Morning, you two.”
 
“Good morning, sir.”
 
“Morning, Billy.  Any luck in finding the bomb or McGuinnis?” Lee probed.
 
“We’ve narrowed down the list of possible hideouts and should have it wrapped up shortly.  Both of you need to get geared up.  Go see Melnick in the front entry; he’ll get you set up.” 
 
They nodded and went inside.    
 
Amanda caught a glimpse of Lee being fitted with his weaponry when she came out of the bathroom.  He looked up and scanned her from head to toe, obviously appreciating her in the tactical gear.  She had to admit, the tight-fitting material did wonders for her figure.  Feeling his burning stare, she busied herself with fitting herself with the microphone and earpiece that was handed to her.  It wasn’t until her earpiece crackled to life that she heard a deep “hi,” echo in her ears and she quickly looked over at him to catch his dimpled smile. 
 
“Hello,” she quietly returned, unable to keep the blush from rising up her neck.
 
He walked over to her just as she was being handed a Beretta 950 by one of the other agents.  As much as she hated guns, she didn’t want to compromise her partner or anyone else for that matter because she wasn’t armed.  She accepted the gun and nodded her thanks to the agent, before pulling back the slide and checking the chamber.    
 
Lee led her over to the corner of the entryway and clicked off their mics. “Amanda—”
 
“Lee, if the words ‘stay in the car’ slip past your lips, so help me.”  Her frustration was quickly growing as she slid the gun into her shoulder holster. 
 
He laughed.  “I wouldn’t think of it, Mrs. King.  I was just going to say that I don’t want to you taking any unnecessary chances.  You stick by me and keep your eyes peeled.” 
 
“That goes for you too, partner.”  She reached down and clicked on her mic before getting back to business. 
 
“Scarecrow, this is Green team, come in?”  Lee and Amanda stopped their search of the ballroom when they heard the voice come alive in their ears.
 
“Go ahead, Fielder.” 
 
“We found McGuinnis’ hideout, in a warehouse about two blocks from the embassy.”  Amanda smiled at Lee when he gave her a nod.  “But we missed him by a few minutes.  He didn’t leave much behind, but he was obviously working from here.  Marks and Bennett spotted him not too far from you but then lost him in the crowd setting up for the parade.
 
Lee looked at Amanda and mouthed, ‘parade’? 
 
“St. Patrick’s Day parade,” she whispered back.
 
“How fitting,” he sighed.  “Okay, we’ll keep an eye out for him, Green team. Over.”
 
“Agent Fielder, did he have anything with him?  A bag perhaps?”  She was certain that he couldn’t have already planted the bomb, not with all these agents and bomb-sniffing dogs around.  But how did he plan to get the bomb into the building?  She racked her brain trying to figure out his plan.  She had even stayed up late the night before reading through all the documents and journals from Agent Nobles apartment.  She came up empty.  All she had learned was that he had told Agent Nobles he was planning to take her on a trip to Brazil.  She had scoffed at herself when she caught herself wondering why he hadn’t wanted to take her on a trip.  ‘Ridiculous!’ 
 
“Uh, yeah, Mrs. King.  Agent Bennett thought he saw him with a backpack.  He’s likely got the bomb in the pack.”
 
“Okay, Fielder.  Put a net over the warehouse and make your way toward us.  We need all hands on deck if we’re going to stop this guy.  Over.”
 
“Lee, we’ve got less than a half an hour before the conference starts,” Amanda said worriedly. 
 
“I know, Amanda.  Francine, do you have eyes on the diplomats? Over.” 
 
“Yes, Scarecrow we’re in the basement waiting for the all clear before bringing them up. Over.” 
 
“The basement?”  Amanda questioned.
 
“Yes, Amanda the basement.  Believe me, it’s not by choice.  We needed them out of the way so we could finish our search upstairs.  The basement was cleared an hour ago and there’s no way in or out without going through our team.  Over.”  Francine’s voice sounded disgusted.
 
“Has anyone checked the basement?”  Amanda whispered to herself.
 
“I just told you it was!”  Francine’s griped through the earpiece.
 
“No, I meant the basement of the building next to us.”  Amanda muttered. 
 
“Scarecrow!  We have a siting of McGuinnis coming up Wisconsin Avenue,” Fielder rushed.
 
“He’s approaching from the back of the building!  I’m on my way, Green team!”  Lee slipped the gun from its holster and ran toward the back of the building.  “Amanda, find Francine and help secure the attendees.”  He quickly yelled back to his partner before turning his attention to apprehending the terrorist and more importantly to him, the man who had attempted to kill his partner.  “Red team, head to the West of the building with me.  Blue team, cover the East.”        
 
“Look alive, people.  This is it.  Do NOT let him past you.  Yellow team, hold the perimeter of the embassy.”  Amanda heard the stern voice of her supervisor come over the airwaves as she made her way to the front of the building.  As she stepped outside, she squinted and covered her eyes as the sunrise peeked in between the buildings.   
 
She listened to her partner’s short bursts of instructions to the teams of agents as she made her way down the brick steps of the embassy.  With each step she took toward the Brazilian embassy next door, she knew she was on the right track.
 
They were three steps behind Sean McGuinnis the entire time.  He wasn’t making his way to the building to plant the bomb; he had already been there and gone.  Now he was only playing games with them, sending them on a wild goose chase.  But she had to be sure before she pulled them off their current search.  If she were wrong . . . well, she couldn’t be wrong.  Too many people’s lives were at stake. 
 
She quickly made her way up the concrete steps of the Brazilian Embassy, clicking off her mic, she rushed through the front doors.  At the startled look of the guard, she flashed her Agency badge and ordered him to take her to the basement.  Recovering, the guard quickly complied.
 
                                                                                                          SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
7:49 a.m. Monday, March 17, 1986
 
Lee made his way through the crowds of people dressed in green and carrying plastic cups full of beer.  From the looks of some of them, they’d been partying all night. 
 
“This is Alpha Leader, do we have a location? Over.” 
 
“Alpha Leader, we’re on his tail, heading straight toward you.  We’re coming through Dumbarton Oaks Park toward Observatory Circle.  6’3”, 185 pounds, black leather jacket, blue jeans, black tennis shoes.  Over.”
 
Lee frantically scanned the horizon in search of the suspect. 
 
                                                                                                         SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
Amanda moved quickly toward the Northwest corner of the basement.  Scanning each of the rooms along the way, she yelled to the security guard, “Have you seen anyone down here in the past 24 hours?” 
 
“No, ma’am.  No one’s ever down here.  What are we looking for?”
 
She turned and read the name off his uniform.  “Mr. Ramirez, we’re looking for a bomb.”
 
“Is this a joke, ma’am?” 
 
She threw another door open and scanned the room quickly.  “Shoot!  There wasn’t much real estate left to check and she was running out of time.  “No, Mr. Ramirez, this is no joking matter.”  She tried to keep her voice level, no need to make the man more nervous.     
 
If McGuinnis were planning to take out the embassy next door, he’d want to place the bomb as close to it as possible.  He knew they’d be watching the British Embassy, which would leave the Brazilian Embassy completely vulnerable.  She listened carefully to the commotion through her earpiece.  Hoping against hope that she was wrong and that the teams above ground would find Sean and the bomb.  Her gut told her otherwise, so she pressed on. 
 
“Come on, we don’t have much time.”  She called over her shoulder as she threw open another door. 
 
                                                                                                  SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
Lee spotted the tall Irishman coming toward him and the grip on his gun tightened.  “This is Alpha Leader, I’ve got our suspect in my sites.”  Lee caught site of a large group of parade attendees coming toward him and he waited until he passed by his location.  “Fielder, he’s at your 3 o’clock,” Lee warned.
 
“Got ‘em, Scarecrow.  Over.” 
 
“Let’s not spook him.  Fielder, make your way behind him.  I’m going to come around from his right.  Keep an eye on those civilians, Blue team.  No collateral damage, people.  Over.”
 
“Red team confirmed, Alpha Leader.”
 
“Blue team confirmed, Alpha Leader.”
 
“On my count. Over.” 
 
                                                                                           SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
Amanda came barreling down the last corridor; throwing doors open as quickly as she could.  Right at the moment, she was momentarily distracted by the sounds of her partner yelling at McGuinnis. “We’ve got you surrounded, McGuinnis.  Carefully place the backpack down and lay on the ground.” 
 
                                                                                          SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
McGuinnis shoved his backpack at Fielder and ran toward the park.  “He’s running!” Lee grunted and took aim, but pulled back when he realized there were too many civilians milling around.  Frustrated, he shoved his gun back into its holster and chased after the tall man. 
 
Pushing past the parade goers, Lee quickly caught up and took out the leather-clad terrorist’s legs.  Slamming into him, they tumbled to the ground and Lee came up swinging.  The rage that had been building over the past few days for this man was finally unleashed.  He continued beating McGuinnis, not feeling any pain in his hands, until he was yanked to his feet by two of his fellow agents. 
 
“Easy, Scarecrow!”  Called one of the agents. 
 
“You’re going to kill him, Lee!”  Beaman screamed trying to stop him from pummeling the man to death.
 
Lee held his hands up to let them know he was calmed down and they released him.  Then without warning, Lee jumped at the terrorist as they were pulling him up off the ground. With a hard left cross, Lee grabbed the man’s bloodied shirt and pulled him toward him. He whispered harshly in his ear, “Her name’s AMANDA, not MANDY, you piece of shit!”  He shoved him back down in disgust.
 
“Come in, Alpha Leader.”  Fielder’s voice broke through his anger.
 
“What have you got, Fielder?  Over.”  Lee shook out his hand and flexed his fingers to ease the pain that had begun to settle in. 
 
“Scarecrow, the bag was full of bricks!  Over.” 
 
“What do you mean ‘bricks’?  Over.”
 
“There was no bomb in the backpack, Scarecrow!  Over.” 
 
 “What have you done, McGuinnis?”  He shook the bloodied man by his jacket lapels and the terrorist just laughed at him, blood dripping from his mouth.  As much as he wanted to kill this man for what he had done to his partner, his gut was telling him to get back to the embassy. 
 
                                                                                                SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
As Amanda rounded the corner she stopped dead in her tracks.  There against the cement block wall was enough C-4 to blow them all to kingdom come.
 
“Oh, my gosh!  Okay, Mr. Ramirez, I need to you get back upstairs and start clearing everyone out of the building as quickly as you can.”  As he took in the site of the bomb, his face paled and she continued, “Do you understand what I’m saying, Mr. Ramirez?” 
 
He nodded and backed out into the hallway and then took off in a full run. 
 
Amanda quickly turned her mic back on and called out to Lee.  “Alpha Leader, please come in.  Over.”
 
“Amanda?” Lee’s voice crackled in her ears.
 
“I found the bomb, Scarecrow.  Over.”  She tried to portray a calmness she did not actually possess at that moment. 
 
“What!  What do you mean?  Where are you?” he questioned nervously.
 
She examined the contraption in front of her and located the timer.  She gulped down some air.  “Oh, my gosh!  I only have 1 minute and 48 seconds left to disarm this thing, Lee.”
 
“Calm down.  Tell me where you are, partner.”  His voice was breathy, like he too was having trouble breathing.
 
“There’s no time, Lee.  I’m in the basement of the Brazilian Embassy.  You need to get everyone cleared out of here.  There’s enough C-4 to take out this entire block.”    
 
“Amanda, get out of there now!”  He rushed.  She heard Billy Melrose shouting orders to the different teams in an attempt to evacuate the surrounding areas.
 
“There’s no time, Lee.  I’m going to have to try and diffuse this thing.  She reached into one of the pockets of her jumpsuit and fumbled for the small screwdriver and flashlight. 
 
“Amanda, please . . . just get out of there,” he pleaded. 
 
“Are you going to help me or not, Scarecrow?”  She said sternly.  If he wasn’t going to help her then she was going to shut off her mic.  She needed to focus.
 
“Okay, okay, describe what you see.”
 
“I see a small gray box sitting on top of several bricks of C-4 attached to the cinder block wall in the Northwest corner of the basement.”
 
“Do you have anything to open the box?”
 
“Yes . . . yes, I’ve got a small screwdriver from the kit they issued us this morning.”
 
“Use it to unscrew the top and slowly take it off.  Sl-ow-ly, Amanda.”
 
“Not too slowly, Scarecrow.  I only have 46 seconds left before this thing blows. Unscrewing . . .” She bit her lip.  “Okay, it’s off.”
 
“What do you see?” 
 
“Shoot!”  She squeezed her eyes shut. 
 
“What is it?  Amanda?” he asked in a panic.
 
“No blue wire!” 
 
“You didn’t think it was going to be easy, did you?  Now, tell me what you see?”
 
“Uh, there’s a black, green, and yellow wire going into the C-4 through the timer.” 
 
“Grab your wire clippers from your kit, Amanda.”
 
“What color shall we go with this time, Scarecrow?”  She laughed sardonically. 
 
“I’m feeling, green.  How about you, partner?”
 
Just then Amanda heard through her earpiece the distinct voice of the man that had created this entire mess.  “Mandy, cut the yellow wire!  Do it, Lass!” 
 
“Get him out of here, Fielder!” Lee’s voice boomed in her ears. 
 
“Lee!  10 seconds left.  What should I do?”  She screamed into the mic. 
 
“Go with your gut, partner.  I trust you.”
 
“No guts, no glory.  Hey, pal?”  She clamped onto the wire, squeezed her eyes shut and prayed. 
 
                                                                                                SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK~SMK
 
“You cut that a bit close, didn’t ya?”  He grabbed her around the waist when she was halfway up the basement stairs and he pulled her against his chest, burying his face into her neck.  He could feel her pulse beating out of control below his lips. 
 
She murmured something unintelligible into his ear and then sobbed into his chest, “Sorry, I’ll work on that!”  They stepped out of the building to find a dozen or so agents running around trying to calm civilians and coordinate with local law enforcement. 
 
“You did it, Amanda.”  He soothed and rubbed her back.  He kissed her temple and helped her walk down the stairs toward Billy and the others.  “Come on, let’s get this over with so we can get you some rest.”  The look of pride on his face was there for everyone to see.
 
She followed him obediently down the steep steps, wiping her brow as she did.   
 
                                                                “This attack has failed. All attempts to destroy democracy by terrorism will fail.” 
                                                 Margaret Thatcher At Tory Conference in Brighton after the IRA bombing of the Grand Hotel, 1984
 
6:23 p.m. Monday, March 17, 1986
 
Amanda leaned against the shower wall and sobbed, letting out all the emotion she had held in for the past several hours, hell days.  The floodgates were now open and she didn’t care. 
 
After settling her nerves, she stepped out of the shower and onto the cool tile of the bathroom.  She stared at her reflection in the mirror and touched the tender skin near her eye.  The once dark purple coloring was now replaced by a light yellow discoloration.  Her lip was just about back to normal.  The lip balm Lee had picked up for her really had helped.
 
After towel drying her hair, she threw it up in a loose pony tale and dressed in the black tee shirt and grey shorts that Lee had loaned her the night before.  She self-consciously tugged on the shorts before she left the room.
 
She watched from the entrance of the kitchen as Lee stood pouring them each a glass of red wine.  He must have heard her walk in and glanced back to watch her.   
 
She giggled when he spilled a few drops onto the counter. 
 
“What’s so funny, Mrs. King?” he asked as he wiped up the droplets.
 
“Rough day?  You normally have nerves of steel, Scarecrow.”  She smirked taking the glass he held out to her.  “Thanks.”
 
“Well, I guess I’m not used to seeing my lovely partner’s sexy legs in all their glory.”
 
She pulled the shirt down and blushed.  “Well, thank you very much.”  She smiled broadly.
 
He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb lightly over her bruised eye.  “Your eye is looking so much better.”  He looked more closely at her.  “Except that it looks like you’ve been crying.”  He stared at her trying to determine if she was going to be okay and she looked away. “You okay?” 
 
“Yeah, just had to let off some steam, you know?”  She smiled meekly.
 
“Actually, I do.  Do you want to talk about it?”  He grasped her hand and guided her over to the sofa in the living room.  The fire roaring in front of them felt good on her damp skin. 
 
“McGuinnis is going to federal prison and if those warrants pull through, we’ll have enough evidence to link his backers.  Case closed.”
 
“I still think you should talk to someone about what he did to you, Amanda.”
 
“Lee Stetson recommending I talk to a shrink?  Will wonders never cease?”  She laughed.
 
“I just think it would—”
 
“Relax, Lee.  I already have an appointment tomorrow afternoon with Dr. Phaff.  Mr. Melrose insisted.” 
 
“Remind me to thank, Billy.”  He smiled. 
 
“Oh?”  She raised her brow.  “I’m glad you feel that way.  Mr. Melrose made an appointment for you as well, Scarecrow.” 
 
“What?  Why?” 
 
She turned his hand over and ran her hand lightly over his shredded knuckles.  “Call it, partner support.”  She patted his knee.
 
“Uh huh.  Speaking of which . . .” He held his glass up to her.  “To my amazing partner.  Who is much more capable than I give her credit for.”  He clinked his glass to hers and she smiled in appreciation before taking a tentative sip.
 
“Amanda . . .”
 
“Hmmm?” she slipped her feet under her and looked at him expectantly.
 
“Did you have a nice call with the boys and your mother earlier?”  He stroked her arm that lay across the back of the sofa. 
 
“Yes, thanks.  They were happy to hear from me and it felt good to hear their voices.”  She smiled.  “My mother must have heard something in my voice, because she announced at the end of the call that they were coming home a few days early.” 
 
“It’ll be good for you to have them home.” 
 
“Yeah, you know, when they say your life flashes before you in the moments just before you think you’re going to die? 
 
He nodded. 
 
“I don’t think that’s true in the case of nearly exploding bombs.” 
 
“No?” 
 
She shook her head.  “No time.”  She winked.
 
“You never did tell me which wire you cut.”  He stared at her curiously.
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“What do you mean, what do I mean?  There were three different colored wires, right?” 
 
She nodded.
 
“So, which one did you cut?”  He placed his wine glass on the coffee table and then took hers from her and placed it next to his.
 
He nibbled her neck and she giggled.  “Which one do you think I cut?” she whispered.
 
He continued his assault to her senses and whispered back, “If I knew I wouldn’t have asked, Mrs. King.”   
 
“You told me to trust my gut, so I cut the green wire.”
 
He stopped mid-kiss and pulled back to look her in the eye.  “You cut the green wire?”
 
“Yes, that’s the one you told me to cut, isn’t it?”  She kissed his lips and started her own trail of kisses behind his ear. 
 
“Hmmph.”  He seemed perplexed. 
 
Now she pulled back to look at him.  “What?”
 
“Nothing.  I guess I just thought you cut the yellow wire after McGuinnis told you to.  I’m glad you listened to your gut.” 
 
“Well, I probably would have picked the black wire.”
 
“So, why didn’t you?”  He looked confused.
 
“I trusted you.”
 
The End