Hope from the Ocean: 37

"What if Manning is right?"  John said, continuing the heated discussion that had begun with the agents from the FBI.

"He may be.  About the summit, you mean.  But the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, McBain.  You know that.  If something is triggered, area civilians can be hurt or even killed in explosions of this magnitude.  As well, the FBI has to be fully informed,"  the agent said.

"Then I'll go rogue.  There's a guy here, on Irish soil, he'll support it.  We'll go get Thornhart ourselves." 

John began to dig his badge out of his pocket, after laying his gun on the table.  Before he slammed it down, one of the agents said, "McBain, this is about the Saybrooke woman, isn't it?  You're letting your emotional ties show, and they will trip you up.  I am positive you're aware of that."

John froze, thinking a moment. The second agent said, "What if we can't locate him, and with the large flow of our men, we blow the whole thing sky high, and for nothing?  A compromise.  We can try to go in and size up the entrances, see if we can get a small group through.  Then at least we can scope out his whereabouts."

"A diversion?"  John asked, tucking his gun back into his belt.

"That's one way.  What would divert their attention, I am not certain."

"Manning.  I can be him.  I've got long hair, like he did, I can get some makeup on, act like I'm him.  That would divert their attention.  If he's a folk hero of sorts, they'd recognize the scar."

Timothy, who was not saying much, finally spoke.  "That's not a bad idea.  You're about his height, his weight.  With a scar, and some make up, it just may work.  Ya can divert their attention, and the others can get in to try and follow Todd's map.  See if they can even locate what he's suggesting as a secret door."

"Question is, why would Todd be there, and how would he know?"  The first agent asked.

"That's easy," Timothy said.  "Me.  I'll be his guide."

"Too dangerous,"  John shook his head.  "They know you, you've been a target, probably still are.  It's taking too much of a risk.  I'll go it alone.  Just be acting a little psycho, like I'm back reliving it.  Don't think they'll know the difference.  If there are one or two of them, guarding the entrance, I should be able to get the away from there enough for you all to get in."

"What else is there?  Any other options?"  The first agent said.

"Aside from Manning himself, no,"  the second said.

"Now, who's got cosmetology skills?" John asked.

***

Todd had just returned from getting his new cell phone, when he powered it up, and set it down on the table.  Ray came running in the room, followed by his mother.  She looked particularly beautiful, in a red sweater and blue jeans, but her face showed signs of lethargy.  He said, "Hey, Mommy.  What's going on?"

"I'm just chasing your son around the house.  He's amazing, Todd.  He's got a huge amount of energy.  He tired Tina out.  She's the one napping."

Todd laughed, then said, "I'll take over for a while.  I could use the workout.  Been going soft."  She couldn't understand his comment, since his taut and sculpted body had never seemed as perfect as it was the night before.  

She traded places with him.  She took the couch, and he took to chasing.  Scooping the little boy into his arms, he said, "Hey, slow down, Mister."

Blair smiled, and took a magazine from the table.  Opening it, she began to peruse the articles, and slowly, her eyes were having trouble focusing and she became drowsy.  She yawned.  "He sure tired me out, too," she said, and Todd brought Ray with him to sit beside her.  

He said, "Okay, Little Man.  We're going to sit down quietly now with Mommy for a while."  It seemed Ray disagreed, for he fought in an exhausting way to get away from his father and run.  Todd began to get into a playful wrestle with his son, that led to Ray getting tired, cranky and noisy all at once.  

Blair opened her eyes.  "He wants to sleep.  He just gets tired and fights it, and then gets crabby."

"Okay, be right back," Todd said, running the stairs with Ray in his arms to put him down for a nap.

Blair, drifting into sleep, propped her head on her hand and her hair fell, loosely, over her face.

He returned to the room, and stopped, his breath catching in his throat.  She was so beautiful; her hair cascading over her cheek and billowing soft to her chest, her eyes closed and a serenity over her face, and the small roundness of her, where her hand rested on where their child was, made him pause.  

His new phone, next to the couch was blinking.  He picked it up.  "Yeah?"

"Son, it's me.  Have ya got a minute?"

"Sure, what's up Old Man?"  He sat on the arm of the sofa, with his back to his wife and listened.

"Thornhart.  They can't find the secret door.  They set up a ruse to infiltrate.  John McBain posed as you to distract the guards.  It did work, at first."

"What do you mean?  Was anyone hurt?"

"We aren't sure.  It's not clear, because during this, some bombs were activated and there was a small explosion that sealed off part of the catacombs.  The two federal agents were trapped inside.  John was able to get away, but he won't be able to go back until the actual ambush."

"Thornhart's still in there.  With his handler.  He's trapped, probably in that same cell I was in . . . it's damp, cold . . ."

"Yes.  I just wanted ya to know.  McBain made a solid attempt.  Honestly, he would have been better off going rogue at this point.  Too much over-planning, it's a tell-tale sign of the Feds."

"He posed as me to distract them.  That means, they all know who I am?"

"Of course.  You're a folk hero in these parts, Lad."

We call ya Colm Mór.  The Great Scar. 

"Now three men are trapped,"  Todd repeated.

"They are."

"The summit is probably tonight at midnight.  They'll execute Thornhart."  He paused.  "What will John tell Marty?  She's just recovering from her breakdown . . ." his voice trailed off.  "Why don't they go back in tonight, later, when things are quiet?  Try and locate the cell before it's too late?"

"They're counting on doing just that.  But it will be the full-scale ambush.  Lives will be lost.  That is why . . . The RA21 are going in earlier.  They plan to disable to guards and get inside and find Thornhart."

"Rogue.  The underground.  That's the only way."

"And Son, I wanted to ask, if it's not too much, can ya recreate the map for them?  Perhaps they will have a chance if ya do.  Jimmy suggested it, instead of them asking ya to go with them.  They know ya can't."

"I promised Blair.  I promised her I'd be all right, not take any chances.  It was bad enough coming here.  She's having nightmares, I'm having flashbacks.  I feel . . . I don't want Thornhart to die, but I can't do this to her.  She's . . . she's carrying our child, by some miracle, and she can't handle this.  I promised her.  You know what she means to me.  With any chance of us being separated again . . ."

"I understand.  But the map, can ya do that?"

"Yeah, I can.  But if the map didn't work last time, what makes you think it will now?"

"I don't know.  But it's all we have.  They want to go in by ten tonight.  The Feds are planning eleven. It will be dangerous and chaotic, that's for certain.  The RA21 don't want to forsake Thornhart and they don't want to wait for the ambush.  They plan to take lives if they must."

"If things were different, I'd be the first one over there.  You know that.  I can't take the risk, not with a family that has already lost me."

"This I know.  I support ya.  Ya don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I might not have to explain it to you, but I have to explain it to myself, every time I think of Marty finding out Patrick might not be coming home.  I saw what it did to Blair, I don't wish that on anyone. Marty's been suffering from an incomplete life ever since I threw Hell in her way.  Whatever I can do, I'll do.  Where do I meet you to bring the map?"

"At my flat.  By the way, they RA21 are not including me.  They have a rule about these things.  Under fifty only.  They consider us elders valuable commodities and refuse for us to be in the field.  Besides, they have a great number of young men involved.  There are enough."

For a moment, Todd wondered if Aiden would be one of the men.  He said, "All right.  I'll be there.  I'll go to my office now and try and construct the map the best I can.  I'll use more detail this time.  You know, your sister used to hang there as a kid.  I'll get her input.  After all, I'm going on a blindfolded walk with a skinner in my back."

"Anything you do will be appreciated, Son.  I love ya."

Todd never tired of hearing it from his new father or from his woman.  "I do, too.  I mean you."  The call ended and he sat, perched, evaluating what he had just heard and agreed to.

From behind him he felt a hand on his shoulder.  "Todd?"

"Hey, Babe," he said, turning to her, "Did I wake you?"

She didn't answer, but instead said, "You need to go, don't you?  You need to go and save Patrick.  I know it's what you want, and I know what it will do to you if you don't at least try."

"I promised.  I said no risks.  We came here with that understanding."

She smiled, and tears formed in her eyes.  "You chose us, Todd.  I heard you.  You'd put aside what you believe is right for us.  Now, go.  Before I change my mind.  You just had better be back here later to kiss our children and talk to my belly before bed."  She stopped, and brushing the hair off his forehead, she said, "I love you, Todd Manning.  Make us proud."

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