112

Ackerman barely had time to explain the most basic of details to Marcus before the nurses noticed that their coma patient had awakened and the room was flooded with hospital staff. By the time they were done, Andrew Garrison and his new friend from the FBI had joined them.

Garrison had once been a member of Marcus’s team but had recently been groomed by the Director for management. He had also once been Marcus’s best friend, but the pair had grown apart of late. Mainly because of the secrets that Garrison now kept from Ackerman’s brother. Ackerman wasn’t sure how he felt about Garrison. The man had certainly been a good friend to Marcus, and yet Ackerman couldn’t help but be bored to death by the man. The other suit who had followed Garrison into the room was a different story. Ackerman found him intensely interesting. FBI Deputy Director Samuel Carter was a handsome black man, maybe sixty years old, and he carried himself with a quiet confidence that spoke of years of dealing with life and death situations.

As the medical staff did their work, checked their machines, and asked their questions, the first thing that Marcus did was turn to Garrison and ask, “Where the hell was our backup?”

Garrison merely shook his head and replied, “Don’t you dare try to put any of this on me. You knew the risks of going off on your own.”

“There was a time when you would’ve done anything for Maggie as well.”

Ackerman watched as Garrison visibly restrained himself. The man seemed to be an expert at pushing his anger down and also in putting up with his brother. After a few seconds, Garrison said, “I may not have loved Maggie in the same way that you did, but I still loved her like a sister. And I’ve known her a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

Ackerman cleared his throat and said, “If I may interject a moment. This bickering is pointless. Neither of you are to blame. And us cannibalizing each other is not what Maggie would’ve wanted.”

The room was silent a moment, and Ackerman added, “Why don’t you introduce Marcus to our new friend?”

Deputy Director Carter stepped forward and was about to speak when a doctor poked his head in, noticed Marcus’s agitation, and protested the questioning so soon after the patient waking up. Carter motioned with his eyes for Garrison to handle the doctor.

Then Deputy Director Carter smiled at Marcus and said, “I could really go for a cup of coffee. How about you?”

Marcus maintained his typical scowl and replied, “Coming at a man through his addictions is bad form.”

Carter stepped to the doorway, just beyond which Garrison and the doctor were still arguing, and said to the doctor, “Hey Doc, could you round up a couple coffees?” The doctor had a few choice words for Deputy Director Carter and then stormed off. Returning to Marcus’s bedside, Carter pulled up a chair, had a seat, and put his feet up on the bed beside Marcus.

Ackerman noted that Carter didn’t ask if he wanted a cup of coffee. The fact that Carter knew that he didn’t often partake and the fact his brother was a caffeine addict unsettled Ackerman.

Carter sighed and said, “You boys are a regular two-man wrecking crew. Within the space of twenty-four hours, you’ve declared war on a sovereign nation that exists inside our borders, killed and injured several people, and burned up millions upon millions of dollars in property damage. That’s not to mention the kidnapping and theft, which don’t seem to be all that bad when looking at the big picture.”

Garrison returned with four cups of coffee, and the gesture toward Ackerman did not go unnoticed. Although, he still declined a cup, his body being a temple he didn’t like to desecrate with highly addictive substances like caffeine. Although, he wasn’t above using the drug on occasion when the situation required, but it wasn’t a habit that he intended to maintain on a regular basis.

Removing the lid from his coffee and blowing the steam from the top, Carter said, “And I suppose you should know that me calling you Agent Williams is a professional courtesy, since you are technically no longer employed by the Department of Justice.”

Marcus closed his eyes and seemed to be slightly shaking, like a volcano before eruption. He said, “I just woke up from a coma and found out the love of my life is dead, and before I can even process that information, you’re gonna come at me with all this?”

Carter, taking a sip of his coffee and gently cursing himself for trying to drink it while it was too hot, said, “I apologize for the abruptness of our questioning, but there is a lot of political heat around this incident.”

Marcus leaned up in bed, and the machines began to beep and whir faster. He said, “I don’t play games, and politics is the most crooked game in town.”

Ackerman interjected, “Brother,”—he laid a hand on Marcus’s shoulder—“let him speak. If you don’t, you’ll just sit in here and be asking yourself all the same questions anyway. You might as well get the answers and then get some rest.”

Garrison came around the bed and tried to hand Marcus a cup of coffee. Marcus looked at the proffered item as if he wanted to throw it Andrew’s face, but then he apparently decided that he really could use a coffee and accepted the cup, his addictions winning out as they often seemed to do in the end when it came to the whole of humanity.

Garrison said, “The moment the Director died, I became the acting head of the Shepherd Organization, and my first act was to shutter the entire program and call for an investigation into some of the Director’s past dealings. But don’t worry, that part of things won’t be a problem for either you.”

Marcus scowled at his former best friend and said, “That’s easy for you to say. I’m sure you’ve secured yourself a nice position with the FBI or another agency. You’re always looking out for number one, aren’t you Drew?”

Garrison turned his head and bit his tongue. Probably realizing that it was pointless to argue with Marcus, something that Ackerman had learned early on in their relationship.

Carter intervened by leaning forward, placing his styrofoam cup on Marcus’s food tray, and saying, “This coffee is terrible.” And then—returning to his chair and once again reclining his feet—he said, “I hope you don’t mind, I have some foot problems, and it helps to recline them.”

Marcus said nothing

Carter continued, “Let’s cut to the chase. The only reason that you’re not sitting in a prison hospital chained to the bed is the fact that you took down a monster like Xavier Yazzie.”

“We didn’t take down anyone. It was Maggie. Maggie took down Yazzie and Canyon and his whole operation, which was funded on the sale of stolen children.”

“Well, that’s the thing. Canyon was politically connected. If you’d only been responsible for his downfall, your own would’ve been inevitable. But as it turns out, your friend Yazzie was even worse than a serial killer. Not only was he kidnapping and murdering people and complicit in Canyon’s illegal activities as a representative of the law, but through his connection with the casino, Yazzie was able to make special modifications to the south tower of the casino’s hotel. He would then choose which guests would be placed there. I won’t go into all the details, but let’s just say that the water that came out of the pipes in the south tower came directly from a water source of the Navajo which was tainted by uranium mining. He also creatively worked in uranium dust and other small particulates that will likely result in forming cancer in all of those people years down the road. The only reason we know any of this is the fact that Yazzie had it set up that upon his death they would all get a letter explaining their impending doom and the reasons for it.”

Marcus closed his eyes and shook his head at this new revelation.

Carter continued, “You can imagine the political shit storm surrounding this whole debacle. The situation is further complicated by the fact that your brother, Mr. Ackerman, is a non-entity. He’s not supposed to exist, so there’s no way to offer him up as a sacrificial lamb.”

The implications hung in the air. Ackerman already knew all of this. He was the one who had brokered the deal that Carter was about to explain.

Marcus replied, “So… I’m the scapegoat.”

Carter shrugged. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Thanks to your brother.”

Marcus quickly turned toward him, but Ackerman laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder and said, “Please continue, Deputy Director.”

The look in Marcus’s eyes was that of a man sensing he had been betrayed, and it cut Ackerman to his core. But he had expected this. And he still knew that it was for the best.

The FBI Deputy Director said, “We worked out a deal for you to quietly accept some charges under the table. You’ll do a year of house arrest. Then some probation. I mean, damn kid, you had to have been expecting some kind of consequences.”

Marcus cocked an eyebrow and replied, “I don’t have a home. How are you going to put me on house arrest? I sleep on a futon in my office when we’re not on the road, but we’re always on the road. I figured why even have an apartment back there. I’ve got plenty of room at our station house to keep everything that I have.”

Carter merely smiled and nodded. “I’m aware of all this. I was a bit surprised that you had merely cleaned out a storage room to act as your son’s bedroom, but to each his own. However, if you recall, at one time you inherited a ranch in Asherton, Texas.”

Marcus shook his head then said, “But that was all part of one of the Director’s insane dramas. It’s the property of the Shepherd Organization, not my own.”

Carter shrugged and retrieved his coffee. He took a massive gulp of the liquid and choked it down with a grimace. He said, “I’m also a caffeine addict, Mr. Williams. And as far as anyone’s concerned, that property is still in your name. I think it’d be a great place to raise a son, and your brother agrees with me. He’s the one that came up with the idea.”

Ackerman watched as Marcus’s jaw clenched and his head twisted to the side, cracking his neck in the typical fashion when he was readying himself for a fight. Ackerman said, “You told me how much you love it there. The quiet. And Dylan loves it there as well.”

Marcus and Maggie had visited the ranch several times since Marcus’s recruitment into the Shepherd Organization. He had shared with Ackerman tales of the picnics the couple had with Dylan beneath an old oak tree overlooking a meadow. In making the deal that would secure the future of his family, Ackerman had felt that the ranch would be the perfect place for his brother to recover from their ordeal. He knew that his brother would also realize that this was the best move, in time.

Marcus rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, “So, I’m out of a job, and I’m on a year of house arrest.”

Carter interjected, “Technically, you will be laid off from the DOJ, so you should be able to apply for other work. Of course, the charges that you’ll be pleading to are still felonies, so finding work… Well, we can discuss all those details at a later date. You need to rest, but it was necessary to discuss some of this before your brother has to go off to his new life.”

Ackerman narrowed his eyes at the Deputy Director. It seemed to him that Carter was playing this a bit more adversarially than was necessary. Maintaining his calm, Ackerman said, “I think our associate is being a bit dramatic, Marcus. You and Dylan will go live on the ranch, and in the meantime, I’ve agreed—in order to mitigate your charges—to work on some unsavory project that the Deputy Director has in mind.”

Carter smiled and downed the rest of the coffee, causing him to wince. “It will be nothing unsavory, Mr. Ackerman. In fact, it might even be something rather righteous. Regardless, that’s the long and short of it, Mr. Williams. You have a new life, you have a home for you and your son, and you will also receive a generous severance package from the remainder of the SO’s funds. You’ll be perfectly set up to start a new life. Unfortunately, that life will be without your brother. The two of you will not be allowed contact, for the foreseeable future.”

Ackerman leaned forward, gripped the edge of Marcus’s bed, and snarled, “That was never part of our arrangement.”

Carter winked at Marcus and patted him on the leg, then looking to Ackerman, he said, “I’m altering the deal. Pray I don’t alter it any further.”

Ackerman felt his own rage rising. “Are you having a senior moment, Samuel? You seem to be confused. This is happening because I allowed it. I could just as easily snap your neck and exfiltrate my brother from this hospital.”

Carter smiled and said, “Now who’s being dramatic? Mr. Williams, your brother wants you to be safe and secure. You and your son. This is the way that happens. Maybe, if your marginally-reformed serial killer of a brother does well, then he’ll be able to join you on your ranch. His performance could also encourage me to allow some communication between the two of you. However, it’s become apparent that you feed off each other, and the powers that be—and I’m sorry to say that this was a decision above my pay grade—have deemed that the two of you are too volatile to be together.”

Carter then stood and, after ordering Garrison to leave, said, “If you do well, Mr. Ackerman, then we’ll see what happens. As of now, I suggest that you say your goodbyes. Our flight leaves in an hour.”

With that, the FBI Deputy Director turned and left the room.

Silence hung in the air for several seconds. Ackerman could feel his brother seething, the heat almost palpable, the rage almost creating a humming in the air.

Marcus finally said, “How dare you decide what’s best for me and my son.”

Ackerman rolled his eyes. “Oh, come now, brother. You should know better than to lecture me. I did what was best in the moment in order to keep our family alive. Carter talks a good game, but I’ve been around him enough to know that he’s a good man. He’ll try to blackmail me using you as leverage, but as he said, all of this will be based on my performance. And I’m confident that my capabilities in whatever task he has for me will so outweigh his expectations, that this whole matter will be cleaned up in a few short months. Consider it a vacation. You have to understand, Marcus, you were in a coma during this time. I made the decisions that I felt were best, and I hope that we’ve been through enough together that you would trust me to make some of those decisions in your stead.”

Marcus placed a hand over his face, holding it there for a moment, and then wiped it across his eyes, smearing tears down his cheeks. He said, “I’ve lost Maggie, and now I’m going to lose you too.”

“Nonsense. We’ll be together within a matter of—”

Marcus cut him off. “You don’t know how these people work, Frank. These clandestine organizations and worlds within worlds and bureaucracies within the shadowy corners of Washington. They’re going to try to use you up and throw you away. Probably get you killed in the process. Tell me that you at least won’t be working for the CIA.”

Ackerman shook his head. “No, the FBI actually. Technically, I think that I’ll be handling some sort of outlandish cases encountered by the BAU. They want to use my expertise on serial killers. Honestly, I’m not even sure if they’re wanting to send me out into the field, or if they’re just wanting to ask me questions and show me files. They want me to be the monster in the basement of Quantico.”

His brother’s tears fell again. This time, Marcus didn’t try to wipe them away. “You know, I’m supposed to be the stable one, the one protecting you. Not the other way around.”

Ackerman squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “We’re supposed to protect each other. That’s what I’ve done. The circumstances may be less than ideal, but we simply must—as you always say—roll with the punches. This latest blow is certainly a difficult one, but we will overcome. Don’t worry, brother. They’re going to love me so much at the FBI that I’m sure we’ll be back together in the blink of an eye.”