by Wanda Whitfield
He floated in a sea of blackness. Where
he was and how he had arrived at this place, he could not remember.
At first, he believed himself alone in the darkness, then he heard the
mummer of voices and sensed movement nearby. He tried not to flinch
as invisible hands reached out to brush against his hair and tug on his
clothing. The scent of evil was almost overwhelming. He could
sense a fierce hunger, a longing, that was almost tangible coming from
the things surrounding him. They hungered for his very soul, these
unseen creatures of the void. Surprisingly he was not afraid.
This was not his place, they had no power over him. They could not
take what he refused to surrender. How he knew this he didn't know
but the certainty came from the very core of his being. He could
sense the creatures' frustration as their efforts to absorb him were rebuffed.
Ignoring their cries of distress, he waited for deliverance from his tomb
of darkness.
He had been drifting in the void for what
could have been seconds or eons when he noticed a change. He was
alone, the unseen inhabitants of this realm had fled. Far off in
the distance a single pinpoint of light appeared in the blackness.
As he watched the speck grew brighter and a fierce longing arose within
him. Giving in to that inner compulsion, he let himself be drawn
toward the light. Up close the light was so bright it hurt to look
upon it but he ignored the pain and reached for the glowing star. . . .
And awoke on the couch in his living room.
A dream, it had been a dream. With a groan Edward Marcase sat up
on the couch where he had inadvertently fallen asleep. Maybe Shiroma
was right, maybe he should have returned to the hospital. It had
been less than 24 hours since he had literally come back from the dead.
The euphoric feeling (shock the medical part of his mind supplied) that
had surrounded him since his awakening in the hospital was fading.
And his body was letting him know in no uncertain terms that it did not
appreciate the abuse it had been subjected to. He had convinced Kimberly
that he was fine and had promised to take it easy and rest. It looked
like that might not be a hard promise to keep seeing as how he barely made
it to the couch before collapsing.
Favoring his bruised ribs Marcase rose from
the couch and headed to the kitchen. He had just finished filling
the coffee pot with water when he heard the knock on the door. Answering
the door he stared in surprise at his unexpected visitor.
"Cassian?"
"Well, Edward, I see that you are still disobeying
orders. Or did I just imagine that you are supposed to be in the hospital?"
With a weary sigh Marcase waved his boss inside.
"Come on in. I take it Kim called you?"
"Dr. Shiroma was concerned by your unwise
decision to leave the hospital. She also mentioned you were acting,
well let's just say odder than usual."
Marcase gave a wry smile, "You mean crazy?"
"Something like that."
"Look I'm fine really."
"So you said."
Marcase sighed, Cassian could really drive
him crazy sometimes. "I was just making coffee, want some?"
"Changing the subject isn't going to work,
but coffee sounds good. I'll take mine black."
"Make yourself at home."
Marcase pointed Cassian toward the living
room and escaped to the kitchen. He was not looking forward to this
conversation. He and Cassian had never seen eye to eye on anything
but this time, he had done the man a grave disservice and the price had
almost been his life. If Cassian and the team had not come for him,
the NSA would have killed him for real. Usually Marcase's instincts
were right, but he wasn't perfect and when he made a mistake he believed
in owning up to it and making amends. He had judged Cassian unfairly
and it was time to face the music.
Cassian watched Marcase disappear into the
kitchen and wandered into the living room. The apartment fit its
owner. It was neat without being fussy; decorated in warm browns.
The few pieces of furniture were designed for comfort. Bookcases
lined one wall and an entertainment center filled one corner of the room.
The collage of photos filling the wall next to the entertainment center
caught Cassian's attention. Dozen of photos crowded the space.
Some showed Marcase with colleagues but most were of smiling men, women
and children from a dozen countries.
"I see you've found my victory wall."
Startled Cassian turned to find Marcase standing behind him. Handing
him a cup, Marcase pointed to the wall of pictures. "I keep it to
remind me what it's all about. Whenever I get tired or frustrated
I look at all their faces and it reminds me why I'm fighting. It
keeps me going on. Each of them is a miracle, a survivor. Sometimes
when you're up to your neck in bodies, it's easy to lose sight of what
is really important. They remind me."
Turning Marcase walked over and carefully
lowered himself onto the sofa. "But you didn't come over to talk
about my decor."
Studying the careful way Marcase moved, Cassian
wanted to pack him off to the hospital where he belonged, but he did not
give in to that impulse. Marcase could be obstinate when he put his mind
to it and stress was one thing his system did not need now. Following
Marcase across the room he sat in the arm chair next to the couch.
"No, I came over to try and talk you into being reasonable and coming back
to the hospital. Shiroma thought I might have better luck convincing
you."
"All I need is some rest and I can do that
much better at home than in a noisy hospital."
"All right, but if I find that you are not
taking it easy I'll send Mr. Hailey over to baby sit. He would not
be happy if you killed yourself after all he went through to rescue you."
"Yes, mother."
Placing his coffee cup on the coffee table
Cassian rose to leave. "Cassian." The softly uttered word stopped
him just as he reached the front door. Turning he watched as Marcase
took a deep breath and slowly released it, whatever was on the younger
man's mind was obviously serious. He crossed the room and reclaimed
his seat. For a few moments they sat in silence as Cassian waited
for Marcase to broach the subject that weighed so heavily on his mind.
Finally, Marcase looked Cassian in the eye and spoke.
"I owe you an apology and a thank you."
"Are you sure we should discuss this now?"
"Cassian, I'm OK and I need to say this.
I misjudged you. I let my false perceptions govern my actions, it
cost the life of one man and almost cost me mine. I'm sorry, I know
that doesn't make everything all right, but I don't know what else to say."
Cassian studied Marcase closely then nodded.
"Apology accepted. There is just one thing I want to know. Why?
Why did you feel you had to disobey my orders and put yourself at risk?"
Marcase gave a weary sigh and shook his head.
"I'm not sure I can explain it."
"Try."
"I thought you were coming to take my patient
out and kill him. I couldn't let that happen."
"Edward, what have I ever done to make you
think I would take a crippled man out and execute him?"
"Oh, come on Cassian, you and I both know
that we are all expendable. You'd sacrifice any of us for the cause.
Gordon Kennick was a liability. His presence at the Mansion would
have tipped off the NSA to your interest in them. That would have
messed up your so called covert operation. When you ignored mine
and Shiroma's medical recommendations, I took it to mean that Gordon didn't
need to worry about medical care since he wouldn't be around to need it."
"Well, you were wrong."
"Yeah, I kind of figured that one out for
myself."
"Edward, I can't always explain my actions
to you. The NSA already knew about Kennick and was on their way.
I told you to stay put to protect you and Kennick. I would not needlessly
risk the team. As Mr. Hailey reminded me, talent is too hard to replace."
"How are we to know that? You keep us
in the dark and then you're surprised when we screw up your plans."
"You have to trust me Edward. Whatever
decisions I make are in the best interest of the team and the people we
are sworn to protect. I can't always explain myself. There
are too many players in the game, and sometimes even I'm not sure of what
games are being played."
"It all comes down to trust doesn't it?
When we met I told you I didn't trust you and it was true. I've been
on the receiving end of too much betrayal from you intelligence types.
But now I think maybe that's changed. Don't get me wrong, I still
think you are probably the hardest man I've ever known, but I've learned
one other thing about you; you don't hold life cheap. I've seen true
evil Cassian, and it's not in you."
"So does this mean you'll follow orders and
do what you're told?"
Marcase laughed, and the impish grin that
Cassian had come to recognize as trouble spread across his face.
"Don't count on it boss. If you had wanted robots you should have
picked a different team. I will still probably disagree with everything
you do; can't fight my nature. But I'll try to see the big picture
too. I get so wrapped up in my patients and fighting the disease
I'm sometimes blind to anything else."
For the first time since entering the apartment
Cassian felt some tension leave him. Maybe the team could survive
this after all. Marcase was not the only one to learn something about
himself from this incident.
"That's what makes you a good doctor, Edward,
but sometimes we can't always do what we wish. Sometimes we sacrifice
some to save many, there is no other choice. I know that's not something
you accept, but it is nevertheless true. I can't promise that I won't
have to make those kinds of decisions in the future, it's the price of
responsibility; but I can promise you that any decisions I make will not
be based on expediency but on necessity. I'm also a doctor.
I took the same oath you did. It's my job to save lives. I'll
try to share what I know with the team. It won't be easy, I've had
a lot of practice keeping secrets."
"Well, we are a team aren't we? And
a team sticks together even when one of us does something stupid and the
other keeps secrets."
"Yes, we are a team, that is if Shiroma and
Hailey have forgiven me for getting you killed. They expressed a
severe dislike for my management skills."
"You're kidding, Hailey actually disagreed
with you? I don't believe it."
"Believe it Edward. It seems Mr. Hailey
has an aversion to losing teammates. A hold over from his SEAL days
I suspect. Makes him quiet testy."
"I'd best try to stay out of trouble then,
I wouldn't want to make Michael testy."
For a few moments the two men sat in companionable
silence, each lost in his thoughts. They would never see eye to eye
on things but that was as it should be. A team needed diversity.
What it didn't need was subterfuge. But you could trust someone even
if you didn't agree with their decisions. And teammates backed one
another even when they disagreed.
Suddenly a wave of fatigue washed over Marcase.
He hadn't realized how much tension he had been under until it lifted.
Damn he hated feeling weak, but you couldn't turn your body inside out
and expect to bounce back overnight.
Cassian sensed the exact moment when the adrenalin
that had been sustaining Marcase through this uncomfortable discussion
faded. It was time to go. "Speaking of Hailey, I had best be
going. I promised him and Shiroma a full report. They are both
worried about you."
Rising, Marcase followed Cassian to the door.
"Tell them I'm fine, and Cassian, thanks again for everything."
"Try to behave yourself Edward, I'd hate to
have to send Mr. Hailey over to keep you in line. Michael's not the
only one with a protective streak when it comes to teammates. Get
some rest, the team needs you and we have a lot of work ahead of us."
"So I've been told." At Cassian's puzzled
look he continued. "I'll have to tell you about my encounter on the
other side sometime."
"I'll look forward to it. Good night,
Dr. Marcase."
"Good night Cassian."
Closing the door, Marcase made his way back
to the couch and was soon fast asleep. This time there were no dark
shadows to interrupt his rest.
From the street Cassian watched as the lights
went off in Marcase's apartment, then entered his limo and headed for home.
His team had survived its latest threat and another player had been removed
from the game. For the moment Dr. Daniel Cassian was content.
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