Tuesday morning came, Ambassador Solensky’s group was expected at any minute, and Elizabeth had neither seen nor heard from William since he had slipped into his office an hour before. She needed to know where he was at mentally before they walked into the meeting, but he refused to respond to her calls. She was about to try one more time when the downstairs receptionist rang to tell her that the Ambassador had arrived. Throwing caution to the wind, she barged into his office.

“Solensky is here.”

William emerged from the bathroom, struggling to knot his tie. Elizabeth crossed the room and took the length of silk, fixing it for him. She noted that he never looked at her, always at the floor or somewhere else. He seemed worn and tired, and she wanted to run her hands over his face and smooth the lines.

“Are you ready?” Her question still did not draw his gaze, instead, he moved away from her and grabbed the files he needed from his desk.

“Yes, lets go.” He held the door for her as they exited.

They reached the conference room moments before Ambassador Solensky and his entourage. Introductions were made and everyone was seated as Elizabeth tended to everyone’s needs. She took the opportunity, while passing out notepads and pens, to listen while the Ambassador’s people spoke amongst themselves in their native tongue. Nothing seemed amiss as she took her seat at William’s right hand, and the meeting began.

Three hours later, not a single issue had been agreed upon. The whole thing seemed to be going downhill quickly, as Solensky fought every point in the contract. William was holding firm to the points that mattered most to his company, while trying to give up some ground to Solensky in other areas, but the man would not be appeased. William finally suggested that they take a two hour lunch, hoping that the longer break would allow for cooler heads when the meeting resumed.

Everyone rose, breaking off into smaller groups as they left the room. William and the Ambassador’s Undersecretary stopped by William’s office to review a few papers before leaving for lunch. Elizabeth opted to stay in the conference room under the pretext of straightening up, while the stragglers slowly exited. There was one pair in particular, two men she had not heard the names of while introductions were being made, that were last to leave the room. They spoke to each other quietly in Russian, each having a northern accent. She recognized their dialect and phrasing as that found mainly in the Arkhangelsk region. Red flags where waiving fiercely in her mind as she listened in on their conversation.

“We thought this was taken care of, Yuri.”

“I don’t understand what happened. We made the arrangements, and they were en route, but nothing else has been heard.”

“Then you know what happened. Failure. How do you plan to correct this?”

“We’ve brought in another,” the man looked at Elizabeth and back at his companion.

“The girl? Bah! She doesn’t understand us. When will this be done? You are already late.”

“Tonight.”

“Good. Be sure it happens, or you will be responsible.”

Elizabeth waited until the men were almost to the elevators before she made a bee line for Richard’s office.

“Did you get that,” Richard asked as she shut the door behind her.

“Yes.”

“What do you think?”

“I think either Yushenkov has a couple of spies in Solensky’s entourage, or Solensky’s favorite imported caviar was lost in the mail. Either way, I want William under twenty four hour surveillance until we find out. Is he still in his office?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You call the boys, and tell them I want one in the truck working comms, one checking the stairwells and the last one checking the building’s exterior tonight after close of business. I will gear up after the meeting, and hide out up here. I know William is going to pull an all-nighter trying to redo these contracts, so I will cover him. I will need you on stand-by. Okay?”

“Got it.”

Elizabeth left for her office, where she pulled up a program on her computer that tapped into the surveillance bugs in William’s office. It looked like he and the Undersecretary had decided to take their lunch in William’s there, so, grabbing some files she closed the program and headed for William’s door. She wasn’t sure how far into Solensky’s staff Yushenkov may have gotten, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

“Mr. Darcy?”

William looked up from his desk, “Yes.”

“I’m staying in for lunch. I’d like to take notes on whatever changes you two might be discussing if that is alright. It will help with the rewrites.”

“Alright, come in.”

And so it went for the next two hours, and on into the afternoon, as the group reassembled in the conference room and continued hashing out the finer points of the contract. At five o’clock they had reached a complete impasse. Solensky rose from the table, signaling his group to pack up their toys they were going home. William tried to convince him to stay, but he wouldn’t listen, insisting that he would attend no more meetings on this subject until something worth his time was presented to him.

William wanted to pull his hair out in frustration as he watched them leave. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Elizabeth.

“May I have your notes, please. I’m going into my office and won’t be out until I have this done. Hold all my calls.”

“I will come help you.”

“No, its not necessary. Just finish up any loose ends you have for today and go home.”

She handed over her notepad and watched him trudge into his office and close the door, sorry for the workload he was about to take on, but glad he was so predictable. She moved back into her own office and pulled up the surveillance program. She monitored the building and its immediate exterior, tapping into the building’s security system as well as the bugs they had installed themselves. She watched until everyone went home for the night, and then she quickly changed into her gear and turned off her office light, making it seem she had gone home for the evening.

The faint glow of her computer was the only illumination in the room, as she continued to monitor the building. At nine o’clock, William ordered dinner to be delivered to the front desk downstairs. Putting her computer in sleep mode, she waited by her door until she heard him leave to go pick it up.

It would take him at least ten minutes to get down to the lobby, get the food, and to come back up. That gave her just enough time to do a sweep before he returned. She moved silently out of her office and slipped into his. She wanted to do a physical inspection of his office, making sure no one had tried to enter through the ventilator shafts. Elizabeth entered the office, which was lit only by a banker’s lamp on William’s desk. She stilled her breathing, trying to detect any small sound that might be out of place. Hearing nothing, she slid along the wall to her right, slipped past the elegant mahogany bookcases, around the potted fichus, and crouched by the door to the bathroom. It was slightly ajar. If her target was trying to enter by an air duct, the one in the bathroom was the most obvious choice. Otherwise his entrance would have been right out in the open office space, and he would not have been able to hide the signs of his entry quickly enough. Elizabeth peered cautiously around the door frame, trying to catch any glimpse of movement. Nothing. She pushed the door open and flicked on the light. The vents looked undisturbed, and the bathroom was empty. She went back out and reexamined the opening in the main office. She could tell an assassin would not be able to take a shot at William while remaining in the shaft itself, the angle was bad. This was good, as it allowed her to go back to her office and monitor everything from her computer. She would be able to see and respond to any attempt by an attacker before William was in real danger.

Elizabeth looked at her watch, eight minutes had passed. She was almost out of time, and she still wanted to inspect the small maze of secretarial cubicles outside the major offices. She quickly moved back to the bathroom and slipped her hand inside to turn off the light, when a large hand grabbed her and pulled her inside. Elizabeth felt a strong arm snake its way around her throat and the sharp edge of a cold steel blade prick the side of her windpipe.

"Be still, sweetheart," a thick Russian accent whispered in her ear.

Elizabeth felt herself lifted by her neck and drug several feet back into the darkness . The bathroom door was still ajar, affording Elizabeth a quick view as the office door opened and William entered with a brown paper bag of Chinese food in hand. Elizabeth tried not to panic as she felt her air being cut off by the big man’s grip. It was years of constant exposure to pain and high stress situations that allowed her to remain moderately calm during the next few minutes. The hulking man drug her by her throat and back against a wall. The small part of her brain that was not engaged in fighting for survival was worried that William might have heard and would be foolish enough to come investigate. If he came in, he was as good as dead. She had to come out of this on top, too much depended on it. With one hand she clawed at the attacker’s forearm, while the other scratched at his face. Her fingers brushed the tip of her hairpins, and just as the dark room around her began to get even darker, she grabbed a pin from her hair and jabbed it in the first fleshy mass she could find. A small gasp of pain came from her attacker, and he instinctively loosened his grip on Elizabeth's neck. That was all she needed to wrench herself from his grasp and jump several feet away from him. She now stood facing him in the darkened room, a small amount of light from the city below shining through the window near the sink.

"Not nice, you little witch," a low growl emanated from the very large, hulking figure before her, the pin sticking out of his shoulder.

"Stay where you are and drop the knife," Elizabeth whispered in Russian, as she drew her gun from the holder strapped to her thigh. Her voice elicited a shocked twitch from the man. He was confused. He fully expected there to be some sort of protection in place around his target. He learned through intelligence that it might be a woman, and that had made him laugh. There had only ever been one woman who could give him a run for his rubles, and she was dead. But here, out of this she-devil's mouth came the voice of his beloved Ilya. It must have been the pain in his shoulder that muddied his mind.

William thought he heard a noise coming from his bathroom. He listened for a moment, but heard nothing else, so he shook it off and got back to work.

With surprising speed, the assassin rushed her and pinned her against the sink, leaning her so far back her head touched the mirror. She scrabbled a little as her feet tried to find purchase on the slick tiles. Her gun clattered to the floor as he squeezed her hand open in a fierce pinch. Finally, the rubber of her shoes grabbed the floor, and she brought the other knee up in a swift kick to the big man's groin, which bought her another reprieve from his iron grip. A good wrenching of his thumb caused him to release his grip completely. Elizabeth took advantage of his momentary disorientation and shoved him backwards, followed by a spinning kick to his head, sending him crashing into the wall. Damn. There would be no denying that loud sound. Maybe William would be smart and call security instead of going commando and checking things out himself. She searched the dark floor for her gun. She had to hurry, the Russian was regaining his wits and she was starting to weaken from the fight. Finally, her fingers touched cold steel, and she grabbed the gun, but it was too late. He had her by her waist, and he threw her against the wall by the window, pinning both her arms. The soft illumination of the city lights revealed her features to her attacker, and he gasped as if he had seen a ghost. He rasped the name "Ilya" as if his last breath were leaving his body. Elizabeth could not let any opportunity pass, and here was one ripe for the picking. She wrested one hand free and punched him in the throat. He stumbled back and she brought her gun to the ready.

Leveling the barrel and drawing a bead between his eyes, she sighed, "Hello, Braska."

"You are dead." He spoke as if saying the words would send her specter away.

"No, Braska, not dead, just reassigned."

"I saw you, dead, you are dead. I cried for you. YOU ARE DEAD!!"

He cracked before her, shocked and dazed. Never in all his years as a trained assassin for the KGB had he broken or lost his focus. He was the best, for a reason. But this slight of a woman practically brought him to his knees, and he realized it was the kiss of death for him.

His heart broke before her, and his raw emotion buckled her knees. She backed against the wall, hoping for some support. She had always known that he loved her, from the time they were assigned together to help ferret out terrorists in Grozny so many years ago. It was one of the rare times that US and Soviet spies would work together, though he never knew her for an American. They had spent the whole of a very harsh Chechen winter holed up in a shack, running surveillance on a terrorist cell in the war torn city. The extreme conditions had bonded them and it had been a suicide bomber that had torn them apart. She had almost died that day, and the scar across her stomach proved it. It had been a year before the start of the Yushenkov case, and Villanova had to move mountains to get her out of there without blowing her cover. Sadly, because of the strain from the cold war, and the sometime lack of respect for those who truly sold their souls to serve their government, Braska had never been told that she had survived. What a harsh way to find out, looking down the barrel of her gun. What a horrid way to carry out a job, putting a bullet in the head of a dear friend. Yet, it was a kindness that it was she who would be his end. There were far worse ways to go, especially in their line of work. So, being a man among men, he accepted his fate.

"I loved you," he whispered, as he lunged forward, forcing her hand.

Elizabeth pulled the trigger.

William jumped at the banging, yelling and loud explosion that suddenly came from his bathroom. He grabbed the phone to call security, when Elizabeth’s form emerged from the bathroom. His hand went limp and the phone dropped to his desk. She stood before him, pale, shaking, gun hanging from her hand. Suddenly the synapses of his brain began to fire at rapid speed. The pins, the tessen, the epee, Turkey, the scar, the bullet, her father…

“CIA,” he whispered.

“NSA,” she whispered back.

He slowly sank back down into his chair and stared as she picked up his phone dialed Richard’s number.

"Richard, this is Ilya. I was working late tonight and I got an unexpected visit from an old friend. He's desperate to see you. Would you mind dropping by for a few, just to say hello?"

A moment of silence met her at the other end. Her rough use of code was necessary, as neither of them knew who might be monitoring William‘s phone. But Richard read her loud and clear, and he was beyond shocked. She had called herself Ilya, which was the code name she had used in Chechen.

Damn. Braska.

"Ilya, I would love to see our mutual friend. Its great of you to invite me. He must have had a long trip, how is he feeling? Is he up for a visit tonight?"

"Oh, yes, Richard, please do come. He had a very hard flight, and he's resting now, but he will be ready when you get here.”

Richard's mind deciphered her code. He was dead.

"I'll be there in five. Give him my regards."

Thirty seconds later, the office door blew open as Manny and Jack rushed in, guns at the ready.

“You’re late, boys, the war is over.”

“Damn, boss, you’re fast. We ran for it as soon as Moe saw the target.”

Elizabeth pushed the bathroom door open and let the boys in, shielding the site from William with her body.

Manny let out a low whistle.

“Is that…?”

“Yes.”

Jack walked over to the form and felt for a pulse, shaking his head when he found none. He then moved out and shut the door behind him, pulling Elizabeth closer to the desk so he could see her in the light.

“You okay,” he asked as he noted the red marks on her neck.

“I’m fine.”

“Shirt off, anyway.”

This brought William out of his shocked state and onto his feet. “Who the hell are you people?”

Manny walked over to the desk, taking Elizabeth’s gun and directing the lamp toward her body to give Jack some more light. He then turned to face William as Jack helped Elizabeth off with her shirt and began examining her collar bone and neck for damage.

“Mr. Darcy, we are…”

“Stop!” Elizabeth’s directive pulled Manny up short. “I’ll brief him later. We need to get Richard in here, I need to call Villanova, and we need to get the… mess in there cleaned up.” She cringed.

As if on cue, Richard entered and cursed.

“Damn it. I guess it was just too much to hope that this mission would stay under wraps.”

“What can you expect, Fitzwilliam, when the assassin comes into the mark’s office. Should the boss have asked him to kindly take it outside so as not to disturb Mr. Darcy’s delicate sensibilities?”

“No one likes a smart ass, Ramirez. Lizzy, are you okay?”

“I just shot Braska in the head, Richard, how fine do you think I am?” The post-traumatic stress was starting to creep in and Elizabeth was getting edgy. Jack finished his exam and helped her put her shirt back on.

“And Richard,” she continued, “we have a major problem. Braska would never work for a thug like Yushenkov. Never. He was an idealist.”

“The right kind of money could sway just about anyone, Lizzy, and I know that the pay for a former KGB agent was pretty sparse. ”

“I’m telling you no, not Braska. We need to look into that.”

“Lizzy, you are letting your emotions rule you again. I know you don’t want to think of Braska in that light, but its obvious that its true. What do I need to do to help get your head back in the game?”

Her only reply was to glare at him. Richard’s focus was drawn behind her to William, who at this moment shared a similar facial expression with Elizabeth.

“Et tu, Brute,” William’s voice cut through the room like a knife. Richard sighed and nodded.

“Me, too, Chief.”

Elizabeth turned to William and asked him to have a seat. As he grudgingly obliged, she asked Manny for his cell phone and dialed Villanova‘s number. Manny, Jack and Richard went into the bathroom to begin cleaning up while she made the call. She gave the brief, but glossed over the fact that William was now at least partially aware of the situation. Elizabeth wanted to sit him down and explain her side of things before everyone else came in with their rules and regulations and ruined it. And she was in luck, because the usually very astute Villanova didn’t ask the wrong questions. She ended the call and informed the boys she was going home. And William was driving her. And if they didn’t like it they could kiss her ass, which she directed fully at Richard.

William said nothing, but shut down his computer, grabbed his things and walked her to his car. They rode in silence, except for Elizabeth giving the occasional directions to where she lived.

She threw her keys at the table as they entered the apartment. Slowly she sank into the sofa, her head in her hands. William waited, his mouth too dry to speak.

After a few deep breaths she looked up at him.

“I don’t know where to start, so ask whatever you want to know first, and we’ll go from there.”

“You are some sort of secret agent?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you here?”

“To protect you.”

“From what?”

“From a very bad man who wants to see you dead.”

“So the man you… shot… in my office, was trying to kill me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Well, that’s a very good question. Because, see, before tonight I thought I had it almost figured out, but now, I’m not so sure.”

“Am I supposed to understand that?”

“No. Tonight everything I thought was true was turned on its ear. I don’t know what to think or believe now,” Elizabeth sighed.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

She bowed her head again.

“Am I still allowed to ask questions, Agent Bennet?”

She flinched, but nodded.

“So, to what do I owe the great honor of having my own secret agent to protect me? Do all business men with a mark on their head get such special treatment?”

“Well, William, you are one step removed from a national treasure. Your death would cause a huge dip in the market, as well as in other areas, and our government does not want to see that happen. Plus, there are several very powerful senators who want your endeavors in Russia to succeed.”

William’s voice was an arctic breeze and her skin prickled in response. “I see. To be honest, I expected as much. You don’t get to where I am without knowing how the game is played and what your life is really worth. But, I have to commend you, never have I seen anyone go to such lengths for their job as you have. Tell me, is it standard procedure to sleep with your… what was it your trained ape called me… mark?”

“Absolutely. Right before I take them out back and shoot them execution style. That’s why my code name is Praying Mantis.”

“This isn’t a joke, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth jumped up from the sofa, lifted her shirt and pointed the scar. “Does this look like a joke to you, Mr. Darcy?” She spat the words out like venom. William glared at her, just as angry and standing his ground.

“This nasty bit of work happened in Chechen, and the man I killed tonight was my partner at the time. We were taking down terrorist cells when I got caught up in a suicide bombing. That man in your office was a good man, and wanted good for his country. He was my friend, and I killed him. To save you. And I didn’t even bat an eye. Does that sound like a joke to you?”

“No, but…”

“That night, at your home, on the balcony when I threw you down, you were seconds away from getting your head blown off. My trained apes and I took out about half a dozen men to protect your life. One of those trained apes took a bullet for you. Some joke, huh?”

“At my home?”

“Yes, at your home.”

William sank into the nearest chair, his legs suddenly loosing their strength. He looked at her, pained, his anger seeping away. Mrs. Reynolds and many others, in danger, at his home, the thought was almost more than he could bear.

“I can understand why you‘re upset, William. But, for God’s sake, I almost died for you tonight. Do you think you could try, just try to see it from my side?”

“I’m sorry. It just… hurts… I thought I was more than… ahh, hell,” he growled as he pushed himself back out of the chair and began to pace the room before he continued.

“I love nothing and no one save the few people who remain with me, Mrs. Reynolds, Charles and your sister, Richard, though that’s a tough one right now. I open myself up to no emotional attachments for years, and then you come here and… and you… God, woman, what have you done to me?!” He looked down at his shaking hands as he yelled, then spun on his heel and approached her, a look of madness creeping onto his visage. He grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her once.

“Have you no compassion at all? How could you come here and make me love you and then tell me that I can’t have you, that I am a job to you?”

Elizabeth felt that one word crawl through her and curl up next to its mate in her heart. Her breath faltered as he leaned his forehead on hers, with a death grip still on her arms, as he tried to keep the torrent of emotions at bay. She felt cruel, selfish. Why had she let things get so far out of hand? Richard had been right, and she had been careless, trying to have some of William for herself, not thinking of what pain it might cause him. She had never “…wanted to hurt you.”

“What?” His eyes finally connected with hers and she saw what he had been trying to control. He was mortally wounded, and she had caused that. She tilted her head until her lips were poised at the threshold of his, and she whispered three little words. She couldn’t keep them in, he deserved to hear them. At whatever consequence to herself, he deserved to know that he, too, had inspired that kind of emotion in someone who thought she would never be intimate with that feeling in the whole of her life.

As her words sunk in, he slid slowly down her body, until he rested on his knees before her. He raised the edge of her shirt and softly kissed the scar beneath. He then looked up at her.

“For all the pain you have suffered alone, especially what you suffered because of me, I am truly sorry. This course is set, and I know I cannot keep more bad things from happening. But I promise you, Elizabeth, from this moment on, that I will never let you suffer alone and unacknowledged again.”

Jack entered the van to bring Moe some coffee. It was just the two of them, as Manny and Richard were back at the office, waiting for Villanova’s clean up team to help with Braska’s remains.

“Hey, have some java.”

Moe slipped the headphones from around his neck as Jack handed him the cup.

“Here,” Moe quipped as he passed the headphones to Jack, “for your listening enjoyment. I’ve had about enough.”

Jack sat down in the chair next to Moe, put the headphones on, then proceeded to jump a foot in the air.

“Holy crap, is he killing her?”

Moe almost shot coffee out of his nose in his sudden burst of laughter. “This has been going on for hours, man.”

Jack waggled his eyebrows and drawled, “Mr. Darcy, you’re my hero.”

Moe shook his head and chuckled for a minute before getting serious.

“You know we have to tell Richard, right?”

Jack’s mirth dissipated just as quickly.

“Yeah, I know. But its been a bad day, let her have this. Richard can wait until tomorrow.”

Moe nodded and then chuckled once more.

“I’m just glad its us and not Manny, ya know.”

“No shit, there, bro,” Jack smirked as he pulled the headphones back onto his ears.