| Subject: This I Offer 10/20 |
Author:
Athena4
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Date Posted: 19:23:05 03/06/02 Wed
In reply to:
Athena4
's message, "This I Offer" on 14:58:36 03/03/02 Sun
Sitting stiffly in a chair in Ryker’s office, Madeline waited for his arrival. Joseph had knocked on her door in the early hours of the morning, requesting – no, demanding – her presence in Ryker’s office at precisely noon. The reason for the order had not been given, but Madeline remained unconcerned.
Over the last couple of weeks, she’d managed to weasel her way into Ryker’s life. A plethora of meals, by daylight and candlelight; several nights out at the opera that were leading Madeline to believe death might, in fact, be preferable to Wagner; and more than a few sexual advances, which were getting more and more presumptuous as the days went by.
And if Ryker’s tension level over the last two days meant anything, Paul’s half of the mission, his sabotage of Ryker’s transactions, was going extremely well. Which made her job that much easier.
At precisely noon, Ryker walked into his office, closing the door silently behind him. The expression on his face was unreadable, but his shoulders revealed the tension of the last few days.
“Madeline,” he said, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips. Seating himself on the chair next to her – not the edge of the desk, which was unusual – he stroked her hand. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Madeline’s mind flew through a flurry of possibilities as he paused. They had dinner plans that evening. He could be cancelling, the problems with his transactions needing personal attention. His reaction was a little excessive, but he tended to be melodramatic when he thought it would impress her. On the other hand, he could be about to move in for the kill. She wouldn’t put it past him to play her for several minutes before dropping the bombshell that he knew about Section and their mission.
She schooled her features to curiosity as she spoke. “W-what is it?”
“I’m afraid that the affair in London went awry. I lost several key figures, including Paul.”
Madeline started. What the hell ? “Lost!?” she whispered, clasping Ryker’s hand tightly. Her reaction was as much pretence as it was genuine confusion.
“I’m afraid so,” Ryker replied, squeezing her hand. There was concern in his voice, but Madeline doubted it was for her state of mind. “He was a brave young man, your Paul. I’m terribly sorry to lose him.”
With difficulty, Madeline sealed off the part of her mind that wanted to demand answers and threw herself into the role of bereaved wife. Shaking her head, she pulled her hand away from Ryker’s. “I- are you sure?” she mumbled, tears swelling in her eyes.
“I identified the bodies myself. Paul, Cesar, a few others. There’s no doubt, I’m afraid.”
Tears actively streaming down her face, Madeline pushed herself up from her chair, helped by Ryker’s support at her elbow. “I- I’ll have my things packed in a few hours, I can be gone by the end of the day…”
“That’s hardly necessary, my dear.” His hand tightened on her elbow, a very obvious invitation to stay. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”
A muttered thank you was all the response Madeline gave before running from the room, the tight knot of anxiety in her stomach threatening to overwhelm her feigned tears for control. As she paced the corridors towards her destination, she wiped at the moisture on her face.
It hadn’t been in the profile. When the mission was planned, she and Adrian had discussed the possibility of faking Paul’s death in order to drive her into Ryker’s arms more quickly. But they’d both agreed that unless the mission went on too long, it was an unnecessary risk. What if they couldn’t retrieve the body? What if one of the Section ops was a poor shot? Paul was too important an operative to risk.
Had the profile changed?
Pushing her way out onto the patio, she slipped unhindered past the guards at the door. Ryker’s men, who would take a bullet in defence of their employer, shied away from a woman in tears, practically backing over each other to escape her.
Heading into the back garden, ostensibly for privacy in her sorrow, she sought out Martin, grooming his roses in the back grove. He jumped when he saw her, dropping his pruning shears into a clump of pink roses.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, pushing through the thorns with one hand to retrieve his shears. His tone was firm, but his eyes gave him away, they gleamed with fear: fear and sorrow.
“Who changed the profile?” she asked slowly. The question was useless; she’d known the answer as soon as Martin looked up. But she needed him to say it, needed to hear the words aloud. Putting a tight reign on her emotions and ignoring the expanding pit of fear in her stomach, she braced for impact.
“The profile didn’t…” he started, looking down at his hands. The urge to throw him against the garden wall, rose thorns be damned, almost overcame Madeline, but she fought it down, watching him study his newly callused hands.
Finally, he looked up, tears shining in his eyes. “The profile didn’t change,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I got the word this morning. I didn’t want….He’s dead, Madeline.”
She felt Martin’s hand grasp her waist as her knees gave way, but she pushed him away roughly, finding her bearings well enough to seat herself on the ledge around the garden. “How?” she whispered, gazing towards the grove of trees to hide a new batch of tears.
His words sounded hollow to her ears as he spoke, seating himself next to her on the ledge. Ryker’s transaction had indeed gone badly. His own man had sabotaged the transaction, killing Paul in his attempt to escape with the merchandise. Section had arrived too late to save him, but their goal had been achieved anyway – Ryker’s clients would be wary of dealing with him in the future. Madeline was to continue with her end of the profile, bringing in the directory as soon as possible.
Madeline chuckled softly at that, closing her eyes against yet another flood of tears. “You can be assured,” she began, taking a deep shuddering breath, “that I will continue the profile as planned.”
“Madeline?” Martin’s voice, unlike Ryker’s earlier, held genuine concern, and Madeline surprised herself by turning towards him, a faint smile across her tear-stained face.
“I’m all right, Martin,” she lied, patting his knee. It was warm, comforting, alive. Her breath caught, and she smiled a cover before continuing. “Just caught by surprise. Besides,” she winked, wiping at the moisture that remained on her face. “It’s hard to turn off this crying bit once you get started.”
Standing, she touched his shoulder lightly. “With any luck,” she said. “We’ll be out of here in a couple of days.”
“Wonderful,” Martin mumbled, his eyes still reflecting his concern.
Turning away, she walked back through the trees, with each step gaining a tighter rein on her emotions. There was a job to be done, and the quicker she could do it; the quicker she could truly grieve.
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