Episode 6:
The Forgotten Assassin
Legacy Headquarters - London
Bobbie Sullivan realized the image on the monitor was someone he knew. At first, he thought the man to be an intruder. He didn't dress like a normal Legacy agent. But maybe that was because this person had gone way undercover as a stripper.
What was he doing back here, Bobbie wondered to himself.
As if reading his mind, the girl at the computer next to him put in her two cents worth. Something she was known to do, at length, all the time.
"Jealousy rears its ugly head." Alison Corday said in a mocking tone. "My, but that man is so not in the realm of the ugly department." Alison had come to a standing position over Bobbie's shoulder where she could see the man who had just entered the Legacy compound.
"You... you don't know what you're talking about." Bobbie whispered nervously. "I am not jealous of anyone."
"Oh, really?" Alison asked with an arched eyebrow. "So, then, why is it you look like you could kill with one menacing look in his oh-so-fine direction?"
The new controller had no answer for Alison.
"Well, then, let me tell you what I do know. I know that man is Jonah Sogard. I know that Kevin, fine babe that he is, asked Jonah to watch out for Faith. And that little fact is tearing you up inside."
Alison pulled her long blond hair off her neck and sighed. Bobbie was fixated on the unattainable girl, he always had been. He had a string of never-quite-happening relationships that Alison had been keeping track of ever since she entered the crypto-analysis division of the Legacy.
Bobbie's latest fixation was on Faith Fairchild. And couldthere be a more unattainable girl? If he was smart, he would turn around and realize that there was someone ready, willing and available right before his eyes.
The controller's next comment brought her out of her momentary reflection.
"He's just watching out for her, not seducing her!" Bobbie's voice climbed in volume.
"How do you know?" Alison challenged. "He could have made wild, crazy, passionate love to her. I mean, what else is there to do up in Nowhere Pass but watch the snow pile up and get cozy in front of a roaring fire?" Alison knew she was on one of her rolls. "And if I may remind you, Jonah is quite the stud muffin hunk. They wouldn't have put him undercover as a stripper if he didn't have the looks and the brains and the body."
Bobbie didn't want to hear this. He had enough of this from his own conscience. He didn't need sarcastic Alison to keep reminding him of how out-of-his-reach Faith really was.
"What are you trying to do? Torture me?" He let out a frustrated sigh. "I already know Jonah has one up on all us lesser beings, but there is nothing wrong with the rest of us. Maybe she's looking for brains over brawn."
The more Bobbie thought about what could have happened between Jonah and Faith on the mountain, the more insecure he became.
Alison ran a light hand along Bobbie's chest. "Did I say there was anything wrong with you? I happen to think you are quite a fine specimen of man."
"You think every man is a fine specimen."
Alison continued as if Bobbie hadn't spoken. "But Faith, she's a different story all together. She grew up with brothers who risked their lives on a daily basis. They were her most important male role models. So, it's only logical that she would go after a man like Jonah. He's cast from the same mold as Kevin and Ethan. He thrives on conflict -- just like Faith does."
"Thank you Dr. Alison for that unwarranted and unnecessary psychological profile."
"I'm just trying to be realistic about this, Bobbie. You and I are cast from the same cloth too. We were young computer geniuses..."
"Please, let's not go there. I have bigger things on my mind."
She watched as Bobbie marched off to confront Jonah. When he was determined, he didn't mince words or beat around the bush.
"Where's Faith?" Bobbie asked as soon as Jonah made his way into Control Central.
"How did you ..." Jonah's eyes were full of questions. "Never mind. I don't even want to know about the places you had to hack to come up with that intel."
"It doesn't matter how I found out. What does matter is that we have to find her." Bobbie's voice quivered but was still adamant.
Jonah placed his Legacy issued Glock on the table and began refilling the magazine with bullets. "We don't have to doanything , Bobbie. She ditched me of her own free will. If that psycho, Ian, catches up with her, that's her own fault. It's not my problem any more."
"Some protector you are," Bobbie mumbled. He forked fingers through his already messy blond hair.
"I never wanted the job, kid. If you're so concerned about her, you traipse up there and find her yourself." Jonah shoved the magazine back into the gun butt and placed it in his shoulder holster.
Bobbie shouted at Jonah's retreating figure.
"I will. That's exactly what I'll do. You'll see. She'll be fine! Just fine!"
***
Ethan Fairchild couldn't believe his luck. It hadn't taken long to find a woman willing to spend time with him. It wasn't like he was searching for love, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"I'm so glad you changed your mind," the red head said. "It's so exciting to go out with a big, strong man like you." The woman's voice was high-pitched almost baby-like. But he wasn't going to hold that against her.
"Why don't we go back to my hotel room and get more comfortable," she said playfully.
Ethan wasn't about to say no.
Her hotel room wasn't far from the bar. He should have expected conflict, but he wasn't in a working mood.
Rachel Demarco was acting coyly innocent. That should have been his first clue, but he hadn't been looking for trouble. Trouble had found him.
The bathroom door was closed, then it suddenly burst open rattling hinges. A snarling man loomed in the doorway. His eyes widened. He knew this man. This was the injured man from the studio parking lot. The one that was supposed to be dead. Didn't anyone ever stay in their graves any more? The man had gone from near death to remission in hours.
Ethan laughed. "No wonder your body disappeared. You were never really hurt, were you?" He rounded the coffee table keeping a small distance between himself and the man-woman team that had obviously lured him here.
"No, I was never injured. We needed time to find out if we could trust you." Carter Wayne made no bones about his intentions.
"And how did you ascertain that you could trust me? Are you a mind reader too?" Ethan felt a tiny prick on his neck. He reached up and picked a tiny dart out of his skin.
"No, not a mind reader," Rachel said, slowly. "You're going to tell us everything we want to know."
***
Angela Hastings was more annoyed than usual. Her date with the hunky Ethan had been a total disaster. Then Chance had run out of her apartment without having one bite of chocolate-chocolate chip ice cream. In light of their mutual misery, she found his actions odd.
She didn't know what was wrong with her. How could she compete with a sexy, slim television actress? In real life, Rachel Demarco appeared almost sickly, but on television, she looked radiantly beautiful. Who wouldn't be in love with her? Rachel was one of her best friends, and so was Chance. So why wouldn't Chance see her as the woman she really was?
***
Chance Michaels felt like ten times the fool. He had watched from afar as Rachel had thrown herself into the arms of a man she had just met in the smoky bar. He couldn't express how jealous he was. And after his fight with Carter earlier, he was ready to release some aggression.
What was wrong with him? He was tired of pretending to be someone he wasn't. He was tired of lying to his friends. He was tired of falling for the wrong woman. Why couldn't he find someone to love? Not that it would be easy to love him in his current profession as television spy by day and real CIA spy by night. He was frustrated and angry and needed to talk to someone he trusted.
Before he realized it, he was standing outside Angela's door. Her sleepy eyes greeted him. The night shirt she wore was too large and hung down over one shoulder exposing sensitive ivory skin to his view.
For the first time, he saw Angela for what she was, a beautiful, sexy woman.
"Chance?" she asked wearily, still lethargic from sleep. "Is everything okay?"
The words caught in his throat. Why had he come here again? "Could I come in?"
Angela nodded and stepped asked for him to enter. The hallway was the only area of the house lit up, and when Angela felt along the wall for the light switch, Chance placed his hands over hers.
"You don't need to turn it on on my account."
Angela seemed more awake now and sat down on the sofa. Chance joined her there.
"Did something happen with Rachel?"
Chance chuckled. "There was never any me and Rachel. But my ego wouldn't let me admit it to myself." He ran a hand up her arm and kneaded her shoulders.
Angela closed her eyes and gave into the sensation. But her skepticism was still evident.
"That feels amazing, but what is really going on here?"
"Shhh." Chance whispered, putting a finger to her lips. "I'm seducing you."
Angela's eyes widened and a smile lit her face. "Oh, is that what you're doing?"
"That's what I'm doing." His finger tips brushed down her back settling on her waist.
She sighed, her words breathy and slow. "Okay, just checking. Please continue."
"Honey, I've never stopped."
As her hands reached for him, he locked her into an embrace and trailed a string of kisses down her neck.
"If I'm dreaming," she whispered. "Don't wake me up."
He pushed her down into the couch cushions and branded her mouth with his. Tonight would be a night they both would remember.
***
Ethan tired of answering their questions. Whatever they had shot into his system was ten times more powerful than sodium penthal. His brain didn't give him a chance to even think about not answering.
"What world leaders are you responsible for assassinating?" Rachel Demarco asked suddenly. Her partner Carter Wayne seemed taken aback by her audacity.
"What are you doing?" he spat. "He won't know the answer to that. This type of programming is devised to withstand such interrogations."
"So you say," she challenged. "But I want to find out for myself."
"None," Ethan said, simply. "I don't kill the good guys."
Rachel laughed. "You don't know what you've done. That's the saddest part about this whole thing."
"What I've done?" Ethan struggled to spit out the words, then tugged at his restraints. His wrists were bound by chains and shackled to the legs of the chair he was sitting in. "Lady, I'm one of the good guys."
"That's exactly what I thought too." Carter stepped up and came out of the shadows into Ethan's line-of-sight. "I never would have believed I could be a killer -- until I saw the evidence for myself."
"Evidence? You're saying you have evidence that I'm responsible for the death of some world leader?"
"Actually, you're responsible for several deaths." Carter turned on the VCR and pressed the remote activating the cassette. "This is four years ago in Zimbabwe."
Ethan watched the carnage, but one figure on the tape made it his mission to kill even the innocent. The camera panned in closer. His own face filled the screen.
This couldn't be true, he thought. This had to be some sort of trick, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt it was right. In the video he was wearing the same clothes he'd dreamed about often. They were the clothes he wore in his nightmares.
"We've taken steps to remove the device from your brain that makes you commit these crimes without your consent," Carter said.
"Steps? What steps?"
"We had an operative in place that planted a chip in your brain programmed to attack the hostile chip."
Ethan clearly remembered the hell he went through when the nanites took over his system and nearly killed him. Then the ATP generator had almost claimed his life a second time.
"You did this to me?" he choked out the words."
Carter could tell Ethan was angry.
"You made me a freak!"
"We saved your life, you idiot!" Rachel couldn't help but add. "The nanites attacked the hostile chip rendering it useless. The nightmares should tell you its influences are dwindling."
"This is better? I can't control my own strength, my eyesight is going wacky, not to mention I have millions of little microscopic machines living in every bone and organ in my body. Tell me how this is better?!"
***
Gia Doyle found the antics in the hotel room enlightening. Ethan Fairchild was an assassin? She had heard rumors of Legacy experiments on operatives, but she found it hard to believe they would fiddle with the brain of someone as talented as Ethan.
She pushed her sudden admiration for him aside and pulled out her Glock. The hotel room door was ajar, and due to the large entrance way into the room, neither hostile noticed her enter.
Gia shadowed the walls as she slipped along the perimeter looking for an opening. Any opening. Then she aimed her gun and prepared to fire.
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