Chapter 12

“Hey, Garrett, can I talk to you?” Chelsea caught up to her cousin in the hallway.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Garrett asked.

“I wanna talk to you about…joining the organization….or however you phrase it.”

“Wait, what?” He stopped, turning to face her. “So your dad spends his whole life going to Yale Law and doing… whatever the hell kind of law he does, and you want back in the family trade. That’s just plain too much.”

“First of all, my dad’s a state prosecutor, and second, I feel I’ve always better related to my mother’s reckless side.”

“So in other words, you mean *my* mother. Yours helped your dad try to take off. I’m guessing they don’t know you’re here.”

“No, they don’t and apparently you don’t know my mother very well.”

“If you mean her stint with the IMF, she did it because Callahan was her father. And IMF is government… my mom’s the one that joined up with the Spencer Organization from the start. But that’s not the point.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t come here to argue with you about whose mom is more hardcore, I came to talk to you about becoming a part of the organization.” She replied, making air quotes as she said it.

“Well first, don’t mock with your stupid little quotation marks there. What do you want, a tour and a viewbook? You need to talk to my father.”

“Can’t.”

“I really can’t help you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t run the organization. Yes, I’m working under my father but I have nothing to do with personnel matters… it all has to go through him. My father doesn’t delegate well.”

“You’ve got to be able to do something….I can’t talk to your father about this. If I could do you really think I’d waste my time with you?”

“Well aren’t we Miss Bitch. Even if I could, after that little display, I wouldn’t. You want in? Talk to my dad’s secretary and get yourself an appointment.”

Chelsea sighed. “Well then what do you do?”

“I’m second in command. I do everything but personnel… mostly because my father doesn’t want some IMF plant taking potshots at me. I handle tracking a lot of the time, missions sometimes, and the day-to-day stuff. With Dad, obviously. I do what he did before his father was killed.”

“And what was that? I don’t know anything about the organization, Dad’s done a pretty good job about keeping it out of the house.”

“Lot of assignments, follow up on missions. Briefings, debriefings. If we’re shorthanded I keep an eye on people who are out on missions.”

“Like…for instance, the mission to kidnap Dylan’s girlfriend, you’d be in charge of going over it and gathering info about it for a report?”

“And you found out about that mission how?”

“Well remember when I borrowed your laptop to type a paper? I kinda cracked one of your files.”

“You cracked the code, not the files. That’d be briefing and debriefing, and it wasn’t me who did it, it was my father, so if I were you I’d not let on you know or we’d both be very dead.”

“Well when you’re going to steal secret files, you probably shouldn’t make it so easy to trace back. And by the way… ‘beavis’ isn’t that secure of a password.”

“So you guessed rather than actually doing any hacking. Good.”

“Well you had that program that goes through every possible combination of letters and numbers…that wasn’t password protected.”

“Like I said, keep your mouth shut around my dad because he doesn’t know I know about that. And furthermore, I can’t help you, back to the point. And I’m also neglecting something kind of important, so if you’d excuse me, Chelsea…”

“No.” She shook her head. “You can help me, you’re just too lazy to try.”

“Chelsea, I really don’t have time to fight with you…” He had begun walking down the hallway again, headed for a locked control room.

“We’re not fighting.” She replied, following him into the control room.

“If you get in, I hope they make you swallow your tracker. Get your ass in here.” He headed for one of the computers.

She followed him to the computer. “Tracker?”

“You wouldn’t really have to swallow it, it’s a surgical implant. How’d you think we knew when agents went down? They don’t exactly bring the remains back unless it’s someone pretty high in the hierarchy. Gets hard to bring things back when the building blows, you know.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Anyway,” he flicked a switch causing 14 signals to appear in various boxes as he put on a headset, “We know because the trackers give us both locations and a nice alarm when someone’s vitals stop functioning properly. Look. Green for normal, the location’s in a worldwide coordinate plane thing basically, yellow if they’re injured, red if they’re dead.”

“And what if something happens to the tracker specifically?”

“That’s never happened. Trust me, they don’t exactly fall out.”

“Maybe not, but what if the IMF or someone develops some kind of interference….the signal’s electronic right? That’d be pretty easy to mess with.”

“It sends out enough static on its own to screw with any way they could pick up our signals. Trust me, we’ve got it essentially perfected. And when we do think up a way to improve them, we replace them.”

“If the trackers emit static to screw with their tracking systems, wouldn’t that be a dead giveaway that you’re coming?”

“It should be, yes, but it’s not because they assume it’s their trackers. Their technology as far as that goes… isn’t as good as ours. They still declare a lot of MIA agents. We don’t.”

“That should be changing, shouldn’t it? Surely something the Russians have been working on will be worthwhile to the IMF. They just bought a whole crapload of tech stuff from them.”

“Chels? Can I tell you something? The Russians work for us.”

“You learn something new everyday.”

“Not just the Russians, of course. But I’m afraid it’s rather classified who else…” One of the signals went to red, and he raised a hand to silence her, clicking a button and speaking into the headset. “You’ve got someone down.” He let go of the button and turned to Chelsea.

“Well whoever it is, I’m sure beavis is doing a splendid job keeping it classified.”

“It’s not on written record. There’s a LOT of stuff not kept in the system… it’s either in paper files which trust me, you would never find, or just passed on word of mouth. And most of the organization doesn’t know it.”

“If it’s word of mouth, how can you be sure they’re telling the truth?”

He just grinned a little. “Classified, I’m afraid. There’s a system, never fear that.” He winced a little.

“I’m sure there is. So where’s yours?”

“Lower back, my left side. It’ll take a while to heal yet. We try to keep them someplace where either a scar would be fairly common or that you wouldn’t see on a day to day basis… both when it can be managed.”

“So a good chunk of the organization is walking around with chips in their asses?”

He laughed. “I’d imagine there’s a few. I’ve never asked.”

“Maybe you should. Might make it easier to know who’s a plant and who’s not.”

“No one who’s a plant would ever make it into the building… not anymore. Mom saw to that after an incident with Ivy’s boyfriend.”

“Your computer’s blinking.”

“Yes, I know, I’m coding directions over rather than talking because that makes it difficult to speak to you as well. But when someone goes red, it’s a respect thing, I won’t just code over ‘hey so-&-so kicked it.’”

“Oh. So what other privileged information can you tell me?”

“I’ve told you that which is not classified. And I’m definitely making a recommendation as to where your tracker ought to be placed… after you talk to my dad.”

“And where is that?”

“Really wanna know beforehand?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

“Let’s just say you won’t be able to sit for about a week.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Maybe but it’ll be yours with a tracker scar.”

“I’m sure you’d love to see that, wouldn’t you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Ew! I was being sarcastic you perv!”

He burst into laughter. “So was I, you freak.” He hastily typed something as a signal went yellow.

“I don’t really have to talk to your dad, do I?”

“You really do, Chels. I can’t do anything personnel-related. I guess you could talk to my mom, but um… well, she’s your Aunt through your paranoid mother… my father’s used to keeping things from his brother.”

“Yeah, but your dad is scary.”

“He’s going to be your boss if you’re serious about this. He’s not scary. Intimidating sometimes, I guess, but not scary.”

“Okay, you basically grew up preparing for this, and you’ve lived with your dad, so he’s not scary to you. To others, he kind of is.”

“You’re going to have to get over it. I’ll go with you, I guess, but I can’t get you started.”

“If my tracker is really going to be in my ass, I’m going to kick yours.”

“It’s not like everyone’s got trackers in their ass, calm down. My sisters all have them, my mother does, and my father does, and no one in my family has a tracker up their ass, so you’ve got a fair chance of escaping it.”

“I hope so.”

“Ivy’s is down her throat, basically – she got her tonsils out and a tracker put in. When Ella broke her leg and she was like seven? Yeah, right into her knee, she never knew about it. Remember when Kayla fell off her bike and had to get stitches in her forehead? That was when she got hers. Mom got one after the last time she was kidnapped, but she knows about it; the girls don’t. Our dads both have one too… I don’t know if your mom does.”

“My dad has a tracker?”

“Yeah… they’ve had them since they were really little. Our granfather had them put in just over their hearts.”

“So when do I have to talk to your dad?”

“How soon do you plan to get involved?” He raised a hand to her again and switched on the headset. “Nice work, get out of there.” Then he turned to her once more.

Before Chelsea could respond, a phone rang.

Garrett grabbed his cell phone. “Spencer.”

“Who the hell are you trying to impress?” Garrett demanded of his son.

“Um… hi, the mission’s going fine, what can I help you with?” He offered.

“I must be getting old, but please refresh my memory, since when do we take civilians… especially wayward family members into the control room while we’re overseeing critical missions?”

“Dad, she’s minding her own business, it’s not a big deal. Besides, she wants to get involved.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the phone. “I’m sending someone to take over for you. Bring her to my office. NOW.”

“Yes sir.” He took off the headset. “Guess what? You’re going to see Dad now. You’re also gonna see me get scolded.”

“That should be fun to watch.”

“Bite me.” The two headed for Garrett the elder’s office as another agent arrived and they were greeted at the door by Wendell Moose.

“It’s the Mini-Chief, go on in. He’s waiting.”

Garrett sighed and pushed open the door to his father’s office. “Hi, Dad.”

“Don’t give me that ‘hi dad’ crap. What the fuck did you think you were doing?” Garrett demanded angrily.

“Conducting a tour?”

The expression on his father’s face told him that his response was clearly a mistake. “You realize how many rules you just violated by bringing *her* into the control room? I could have you shot for that!!”

“Well that’s an admirable sentiment except then you wouldn’t have…”

“SHUT UP!”

Garrett shut up.

“Bringing someone without the proper clearance into the control room, where you are supposed to be overseeing a mission. You had people’s lives in your hands and you were too busy flirting WITH YOUR COUSIN!”

“We had one dead one injured out of fourteen on a critical mission in the first hour. Sir, that’s an excellent figure.”

“I don’t give a damn how excellent it is! That’s still three kids whose father isn’t going home tonight! That’s one wife who needs to be told she’s now a widow because you were too busy handing out information about this organization to a civilian.”

“And if were anyone else, Dad, it’d be more than that. The injured would have been dead if I hadn’t called people in.”

“And if you’d been doing your job properly and paying attention, there would be no dead, and probably no injured, but let’s not get too hopeful now!”

“Well there’s an agent dead. Things happen.” The eighteen year old bit his lip.

“Is that what you’re going to tell his wife?”

He looked taken aback. “Me?”

“It was your mission. His life was in your hands.”

“But you’ve always…”

“And if I had gone on that mission, you’d be telling your mother and trying to run the organization.”

Garrett snorted. “You’d never let me oversee a mission you were on.”

“I’m not about to start coddling you now. I’m trying to prepare you for when I’m dead.”

He blinked. Yes, he knew the time would come when it would be in his hands and his father was gone, but that just… it was supposed to be years from now. He’d just gotten his father back not too long ago, after all…

“And what the hell were you doing answering your phone like a moron?”

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s how you answer your phone.”

“I do it because I’ve earned the respect whoever the hell calling me should be giving me. You just learned to tie your shoes. And stop being such a priss. The tracer doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“Yes. Sir.”

Garrett seemed to notice Chelsea was in the room for the first time. “Now what the hell was she doing in the control room?”

“Chelsea’s interested in joining the organization.”

“Oh really?” Garrett gave her an appraising look. “This isn’t the girl scouts.”

“Yes, sir.” Chelsea said quietly.

“My husband wouldn’t make a very good troop leader, you see,” Cassidy said as she entered the room from behind a tapestry.

“Not a position I particularly strive for.” Garrett remarked.

Cass shrugged. “You like the cookies well enough. But you’d have trouble leaving your gun at home.”

“Yes, I would.” Garrett replied.

She smiled slightly. “I think Chelsea’s a bit big to be a Girl Scout, but I think she’d be a fine intel agent. I’d train her. If you agree, of course.”

“She seemed to have no problem breaking into Garrett’s files.” He commented. “I guess we could use another intel agent.”

The slight smile was still playing on her face. “I’ll keep in contact with you then, Chelsea, and we’ll get you trained.” She rested a hand on the back of her husband’s chair.

Chelsea nodded. “Thank you, Aunt Cass.” She paused. “My parents don’t know I’m here.”

“The files of all agents are kept so confidential that only I really know who works for me. You don’t have to worry about them finding out. Provided you keep your mouth shut, of course.” Garrett told her.

Chelsea nodded.

There was a moment’s pause. “You can go.”

“Right. Thank you, sir.” She practically ran out of the office.

Cassidy looked to her son. “Were you really flirting with her?”

“No. We were just talking. She’s got a smart mouth.”

“Oh well that’s interesting, because God knows there’s none of *those* around here,” Cassidy said sardonically. “Go on upstairs, honey, I’m going to visit your father.”

“Alright…” Garrett left the office as well.

"Honey? What's bothering you?

Garrett dropped into his chair and sighed. "I take it you haven't talked to Kayla, yet?"

"No... why, what's wrong?" Cassidy sat in his lap.

He gave her back a gentle rub. "Kayla is pregnant."

"She's what? Damnit..." She sighed. "Ella asked me to talk to you this morning, because she's pregnant... but at least she's married."

"What the hell is up with our kids? Why are they so determined to give me a heart attack?"

"Chris is a good man, Garrett. He loves her, he's good to her. He'll be a good dad for her baby."

"He better. But what about Kayla?"

"I know... I don't know what to do about that."

Garrett sighed. "What did I ever to do make her hate me?"

"She doesn't hate you... she's just eighteen. They all did this. You missed Ella's, though."

"They all got themselves pregnant?"

"No... that was just her bad judgment. But Ella, oh, she couldn't stand me when she was eighteen."

"This is different....Kayla told me it would have been better if I never came back."

"Shh... she didn't mean it, Garrett."

"What are we going to do about it?"

"I... I don't know."

"Talk to her? You might have better luck than I did."

"I'll try..."

"Okay." Garrett kissed her.

She softly kissed him back. "Do you have a minute to come see our baby?"

"I think I could squeeze him in." He helped Cassidy stand before standing himself.

"He's adorable, I just want to play with him all day," Cassidy admitted.

"Well that's because he's my son." He smirked.

"I can't play with you all day so I have to make do." She winked.

"Well I'm sure we could come up with some arrangement so we could play."

"No, I wanna play with the baby, you stay up later than he does."

"Well then let's go see Nathan, shall we?"

"Yes." She took his hand and led him back up the hidden stairs and into the baby's room.

"Who's that standing up in his crib?" Garrett walked over and picked Nathan up.

Nathan squealed delightedly.

"How's the little prince doing today?"

The child babbled a little bit. Cassidy leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Isn't he the most precious little thing?"

Garrett smiled at his wife. "He's something."

"Of course he is. Look at his daddy."

"Well what else would you expect from a Spencer?"

"He's a little angel, yes he is."

Baby Nathan cooed.

"Has he walked at all yet?"

"No, not yet. He's taking his time."

"I saw him standing when we walked in..."

"Yeah, he stands if he has something to hold on to. No walking yet, though... want to see if he will?"

Garrett set him down. "Let's see what he can do."

Cassidy sat a short distance from the little boy and reached out to hold onto his hands. "Come on, little one."

Garrett crouched down. "Come on Nathan, take a couple steps."

"Here, Garrett, come stand with me so he'll walk toward us."

The baby looked at his parents and then took a wobbly step forward.

"Come on, Nathan, walk over to us."

Nathan took a second wobbly step, and then Cass let go of his hands. He wobbled a step more and fell on his bottom, lip trembling.

"It's okay, just step up and try again." Garrett helped him up.

"Come on, angel, that's a boy," Cassidy told him gently.

Nathan cautiously took a few more steps forward.

"Hey! Come here, little boy!"

Nathan took a few more steps toward them.

Cassidy smiled. "He's so smart... come here, little man, come over here and see us."

"Look at that! You're walking!"

He walked the last short distance to them, smiling at them.

"Garrett, we make perfect kids."

"Four out of five ain't bad."

"Six out of six."

Garrett pulled Cassidy into a hug. "Yeah."

She picked up the baby and settled herself close to Garrett. "I know he was unexpected... but I'm glad we had one more little baby."

"Me too, Cass."

She kissed him softly. "Things could be looking up for us for once."

"I love you, Cass." He told her, Kayla's comments still nagging at the back of his mind.

"I love you too, Garrett... are you sure it's just Kayla being pregnant that's bothering you? Did she say something else?"

"Basically she wished I'd never come back...and that I don't really love you, but I do, Cass, you know that."

"Of course I know that."

"Good."

"I wish we still had the place in Spain sometimes."

"Why?"

"So the two of us could take our baby and run away."

Garrett laughed. "I don't think that'd be a very good idea."

"Who says?" Cass replied with a smile. "After all... nothing to distract us... baby sleeping and I get to play with you. All day."

"Well...while that sounds like a *very* good idea....I think the other kids might feel left out."

"They're all adults now. Heck, half of them *have* kids."

Garrett kissed her. "I promise, we'll find some time soon and just go away for a bit."

"Good. Oh... and you should talk to Ella. She was afraid you wouldn't take it very well..."

"I will."

"Good." Cassidy smiled suddenly. "I hope her baby is *just* like she was."

"She'll get a taste of what she put us through."

"Exactly. Reptiles and running away and all of it."

Garrett smiled a bit. "Yes."

"But we were happy. Even with that little short stint where things got hard... we've always been happy."

"I'm glad I make you happy."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Ella peered around the corner. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were all around... I just... thought maybe Mom should talk to Kayla, she's..."

"We know, Ella." Garrett said.

"Sure, I'll go." Cassidy kissed Garrett gently and left the baby with him, going up to Kayla's room.

Ella sighed.

"Ella, come in here."

Ella did so, sitting down nearby her father. "What's up, Daddy?"

"Your mother told me."

"Oh."

"Kayla?" Cassidy asked.

"What?" Kayla demanded.

"When were you planning on telling me, Ella?"

"Soon, I was just... I wanted to see how Mom took it first because..."

"May I come in?"

"Yes."

Cassidy entered the room. "How are you doing?"

"Because....?"

Kayla shrugged. "Pregnant."

"I was afraid you'd be upset."

"So I heard." Cassidy sat on the bed. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Why would I be upset?"

"I don't know! Mom, I just found out I was pregnant! I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do."

"Well you need to think about it, Kayla. Are you planning to have the baby?"

"Because... well I thought you'd be upset because I'm your daughter and all and I'm having a baby."

"Is he good to you?"

"He is. He's good to me."

"I don't know, Mother." Kayla replied.

"And he knows if he hurts you, I'll kill him?"

"That's the first thing to decide, then. Before you don't have an option."

"You told him so yourself."

"What option?" Kayla retorted.

"I did, but does he believe me?"

"Yes."

"Good." Garrett nodded. "Are you happy, Ella?"

"If you choose to get an abortion we won't stop you. You're old enough to get into this mess, you're going to get yourself out of it. You can either have the baby and keep it, have it and give it up for adoption, or decide not to have it. Your baby. Your choice."

"I really am, Daddy." Ella smiled.

"It's really not my choice! No matter what I do, you and dad'll be disappointed and you know Dad will take control and make the decision on his own."

"Good."

"Your father's not making any choices for you. And you know something? He can be disappointed if he wants, I just want you to take some responsibility for what's happened and make your own decisions! Let's get this nice and clear. There is a child growing inside of you. And you have to decide what to do about it, and then you have to follow through."

"Fine. I will make a decision."

"If you want to talk about it, I'll be around."

"No you won't."

"As a matter of fact, Kayla, I will. We love you."

"You've been so wrapped up in that damned baby you haven't even noticed anything, Mom."

"News flash, that baby almost died. And so did I. Babies happen to need quite a bit of care, Kayla - something I'd advise you to consider befoore you decide you want to be someone's Mommy."

"Maybe I don't want to be someone's Mommy!"

"Then what do you want to do, Kayla?" Cassidy asked, keeping the sharpness out of her tone.

"I don't know what I want to do. But I guess I'll have to figure it out for myself, won't I? Because we both know that dad won't hear anything I have to say and you won't care."

"Actually, I do care. So let's sit and have a chat."

Kayla rolled her eyes, but sat anyway.

"So. You don't want to be a mother, or you haven't decided yet?"

"I guess I haven't decided."

"Well... you should talk about it. About what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking I don't want to have a baby."

"So you'll make the problem go away."

"Then I'll have an abortion."

"Can I tell you? I was forced into that, a long time ago, and I've wondered what might have happened every day since."

"I find that hard to believe."

Cassidy sighed. "During your father and mine's honeymoon, I was kidnapped... I didn't know I was pregnant, but Bryce Callahan had the baby killed... he sent our unborn child to your father, and every day for the rest of my life I've wondered about that child. What he'd be like... what he'd look like... what he'd have done with himself."

"Well what am I supposed to do? I don't want to be a mother."

"But you've made yourself one." She sighed. "You could put the baby up for adoption."

"Adoption?" Kayla questioned, having not thought of that.

"Yes. Someone else would raise the baby. Maybe when you grew up some you'd be able to contact the parents and maybe see them."

Kayla nodded and sighed. "Yeah."

"And... honestly I don't want to see you kill the baby."

"I don't know if I'd be able to kill a baby."

"Good."

Kayla nodded. "I guess."

"It is good. I'd hoped I'd be able to instill some values into you."

"I hardly think that not being able to murder somebody is a value you can give me."

"Kayla, if you want to infuriate me, you won't leave this room until the baby's born."

"I'm just saying....with you doing what you do....you can't really take the credit for my values."

"I haven't raised you to do the same. And where, exactly, do you think your values came from?"

Kayla shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well they came from somewhere."

"Maybe I came up with them myself."

"Apparently not, considering the situation you got yourself in."

"It's not like I really planned this, mom."

"Were you careful?"

"Yeah."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Then how exactly did this happen?"

"How the hell should I know? Maybe the condom broke."

"Maybe, hmm?"

"What is your problem now?"

"I'm not happy about this. You know that."

"Yeah, no shit. I'm not exactly jumping for joy either."

"Your father's even less happy."

"I got that."

"Shall I tell him you're planning to put the baby up for adoption?"

"I guess. Not like he's gonna care."

"He will."

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