The Guardian - 11

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You turn off the light, you kiss me good night
Mother, I know that I'm gonna be alright
And I just can't wait to grow up
Find my own life, be a good wife
And a smart one, I'm sure



Part Eleven – Always Everywhere
My continued apologies for the delay


Previously… Astoria Coffee….

“Police! Stay down!” As she turned the microseconds of silence were broken by the sound of a patrol car siren approaching and the very loud sound of screeching brakes. A slight figure jumped out of a Navy Blue Explorer; beckoning Alex from the front door of the cafe. Lisa squinted and against her better judgment, she urged him and Darla and Jo with,

“Go!” Hesitation was followed with,

“Get the fuck outta here! GO!” The three ran to the SUV and quickly got inside. As the Explorer pulled away another SUV sped off in the opposite direction. Jo sat in the back with Darla with the driver pushing a pistol into Alex’s hands. He tilted his head in confusion as the driver looked up into the rear view mirror.

“There’s a Sig and a Glock in the bag between you,” the voice was only vaguely familiar; like hearing a Brit actress do an American part. Nevertheless three sets of eyes widened. Jo was relieved since the woman behind the wheel appeared to be safe. Darla’s eyes widened is surprise; followed quickly by confusion and conflict. And Alex was simply and almost barely surprised as the woman pulled off her New York Yankees baseball cap to reveal long dark hair and the lovely but confounding enigmatic visage of Beseema Farouck….


Northwest heading toward Astoria Boulevard...

“Well, that’s a real kick in the head.” Alex held the 45 in his right hand, but cautiously eyed Beseema Farouck.

“To paraphrase Twain, the reports of my demise are extremely falsified.” She half smiled and then eyed the two in the back seat. jo laughed softly at the irony while tapping Alex on the shoulder.

“I guess we should have ordered to go.” She pulled the Sig from the bag and pointed it at Beseema.

“I may be a nurse, but I still know how to fire a weapon. Maybe you can help us understand why you’re driving instead of in the morgue?” Darla’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“We were going to tell you that the government alphabet guy let us know that Beseema was dead, but obviously he lied. It makes me wonder who the fuck is telling us the truth.” Alex pointed his own weapon at Beseema.

“I can assure you that since I’ve barely spoken to you; my falsehoods are at least at a minimum. And I’m sorry for what I’m about to say.” She paused as she checked the traffic behind through the rearview mirror.

“We tried to distance ourselves.” Alex cut her off.

Ourselves??”

“”The people I work for. You were dragged into this quite accidentally from our perspective, but the people who just shot up the restaurant? Once you returned to check on Mahmood and me? They were convinced you knew more than you did. My superiors regret they did not anticipate that. “ She breathed out in frustration. She had anticipated that problem before she was forced underground, and by then Alex and Darla were already in peril.

“I’ve tried to keep close, but my own circumstances and your comings and goings barely permitted that. It’s – Well let’s just say some people might find themselves looking for other opportunities within my organization.

“I don’t get it.” Alex looked back and forth between Beseema and Darla.

“It’s a bit complicated, but…” Her words were cut shirt as the back window of the Explorer shattered, sending glass shards all over. Beseema pulled a hard right onto a side street as the pursuing SUV failed to make the turn. She put the Explorer in reverse and hit he gas, barely missing a cab as she drive back down the street.

“They don’t give up easy, do they?” Alex quipped.

“Ea-si-LEE,” Jo smiled even as she turned around and pointed the Sig past the headrest toward the now-windowless door. A moment later, a Glock rested on the seat next to her.

“I’m so tired…” Darla blew out a breath and got off a shot just as the Black SUV drew up close. The guy in the right front seat was leaning out the window and her shot hit him as it glanced off the side mirror, leaving his left wrist fairly useless and his weapon lying broken in his lap. The driver backed off the gas a bit as the pursuit continued.

As I began to say? See the purse on the floor next to your feet? Open it and pull out the object wrapped in my hijab?” She held up her free hand revealing no weapon. Alex did as she asked and produced a flat parcel wrapped in a gold and bronze hijab. Pulling the fabric away, he found himself staring at a photo of a softball sized nearly opaque blue stone.

“That, dear friends, is why we are fleeing. Whatever Chastain told you can be taken with a very large bag of rock salt, to coin a phrase.” She slowed just long enough to do a hard right onto 28th, heading for Astoria Blvd.

“You’re not Mossad or C.I.A.?” Darla snapped at her, feeling betrayed.

“I was once, but I work foryour state department. He told you that it was all about nukes? That Mahmood was on the no-fly list? That’s half true. He was on the no-fly list because that’s what Chastain and his backers wanted in order to limit Mahmood’s movement. To isolate us.”

“What is it about, Ms. Farouck? Jo asked Beseema checked the rearview mirror. Wherever their pursuers were, it was not behind them but likely heading up the next one-way in the same direction…toward the Grand Central Parkway

“When the Peacock Throne fled Iran, the Shah took with him some items of…consolation. Mahmood was not a scientist but instead a jeweler to the Shah. The stone you hold is what was once known in some circles as the Blue Peacock.”

“A sapphire.” Jo asked. Alex turned and half smiled with a bit of a quizzical look on his face.

“I minored in archaeology,” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Yes, but probably the largest uncut sapphire anywhere. Mahmood? He borrowed the stone after the Peacock Throne wound up in Paris. Chastain works for Iran. He used his C.I.A. connections to insert himself into the search for Mahmood. A few million dollars is but a pittance to the Iranis, but worth killing for a low-level wonk with connections.

“Nobody double-taps a bodega thief,” Alex said with a half-frown. Darla looked back and forth at Alex and Beseema. She sighed while feeling shamed. The woman was beautiful, but when the dream climbed off the pedestal back into reality, the woman might have been as pretty as Amani, but with none of the sweetness. Beseema noticed her frown.

“I am very sorry to have deceived you, but the more distance my “death” put between myself and you two, the government had hoped to draw Chastain’s attention away as well. Sadly, we were all mistaken.” She smiled weakly. Jo picked up on Darla’s disappointment.

She glanced again in the rearview. A dark SUV appeared to be following, but it pulled over as a few business men and women exited and walked into a Starbucks. She breathed out yet another relieved gasp and continued.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” she said, but her frown was less than cordial.

“I am sorry. To say I had little choice is of small consolation, but at this point I am more concerned with the safety of everyone rather than the accursed stone. We had hoped to find Chastain and his thugs before this morning, and it is only by happenstance? Perhaps divine intervention, in’shallah, that no one was seriously hurt.” She tapped her headset with her free hand.

“Thank god the waitress is going to be okay.” She pointed to her headset again.” They just let me know. As far as this,” at that she pointed to the picture as she slowed down. Now that they know I’m still alive and that the State Department knows all about Chastain, you should be safe but we intend on keeping an eye out just in case.

“It’s over. I know this is of very pitiful consolation, but I.” She hesitated.

“Mahmood and I became friends after a fashion, and it will remain with me all of my days that I failed him.” She sighed and returned the rest of her attention to the road, Darla saw her expression in the mirror and finally realized that she did admire and respect Beseema, but whatever love she held in her heart would be for that kind of acquaintance-like love one might have; fleeting somewhat and valued rather than highly treasured.

Jo had kept her eyes on her niece the whole time and breathed a sigh of relief. Time enough even in the near future, but their lives were entwined with the immediate future of Louise Farnetti. The next few minutes were filled with slower turns and little conversation. Jo found herself staring at Alex, whose attention remained cautiously in Beseema as she drove. The woman looked up into the rearview mirror again and spoke.

“My superiors are already in contact with your Captain. Again? I am very sorry you were thrust into this.” She gazed once again at the picture before pulling the Explorer up to the curb by the café that they had fled less than a half hour before. Darla reached over and squeezed Beseema’s hand.

“I’m sorry, too, Ms. Farouck. As-Salaam-Alaikum.”

“Waʿalaykumu as-salām,” Beseema said in return.

Darla noticed that Beseema’s eyes had welled up a bit with tears. Her hand drifted apart from Beseema in reluctant resignation to the real while bidding a bitter-sweet farewell to yet another dream. Alex just nodded while placing the stone and the 45 on the seat before climbing out of the car. A kind looking man took his place.

“Hey, partner.” he said almost gently. The smile on his face seemed to brighten her, leaving Darla to nod in understanding. A dream for someone else? Wasn’t that always the way for her?’ She stepped out of the car.

““I’m sorry, too, Ms. Farouck. God bless,” Jo said. She returned the weapon to the bag and reached around the seat and squeezed Beseema’s hand before exiting the SUV. A moment later the three stood on the other side of the street from the coffee shop now somewhat obscured by several police cars and an ambulance.

“Are you okay?” Jo asked Darla as Alex hovered in a way next to them.

“Yes,” was all she could manage before burying her face in Jo’s shoulder as she began to grieve for what could never have been even if it was what she had always hoped for?

“I know, baby girl,” Jo said as the girl sobbed. Alex patted Jo on the shoulder in agreement. And whatever was sitting just around the corner for any of them, Alex was relieved and gladdened that he would share it with Jo Bianchi,

What made me so sure that I could endure
How hard it is to lose and lose and lose and live again
And never understand

They walked across the street and past the cordon of police as Alex held up his shield.

“Hey?” a voice called from the doorway of the café. Alex turned to find Lisa Kovic standing with a suit guy.

“Fine! You get to go on a nice drive around town and here am I stuck with the paperwork.” She nodded at the man next to her before joining the three curbside.

“What’s with? Oh fuck.” She pulled Alex aside, leaving Jo holding Darla.

“The dream comes to a grinding halt? Don’t I know that chapter?” She tried to make light of it, but she was also aware of the situation with Darla’s mom.

“Um… tell her I’m sorry?” She would have added ‘that it didn’t work out,’ but the moment went far beyond unrequited love, even if Lisa was painfully aware of that heartache herself. But Lisa had only lost her own mother to cancer the previous year. She sighed in awkward commonality before nodding at Alex.

“Gotta debrief with these jokers.” She smiled and walked back as she resumed the conference with the government men.

“Yeah,” Alex said. He returned his attention to Jo and Darla, finding them sitting in the back of Jo’s car across the street from the café. It was proving to be a very long week even at only Wednesday, and tomorrow was looking dim as Gina and her family would be flying in to reunite with Jo and Darla. A reluctant truce on behalf of Louise? Only time would tell, but from what he knew of the rift between Darla and her sister, it didn’t look good. Especially for a girl dealing with guilt and grief for things past and things yet to come. He shook his head in frustration before pasting on a brave face as he walked across the street.


At the precinct a short while later…

“The Feds are ‘deeply regretful’ for any problems they may have caused because of this mess.” Captain Sayers remarked as she shook her head. Darla was too worked up to sit and stood in the office doorway with her arms folded in a ‘go ahead – entertain me’ pose. Alex sat quietly as he sipped his coffee. Jo sat next to him. While the debriefing was semi-official, the Captain thought it best that Darla have support for a variety of reasons. As much as they had tried to downplay her attraction to the Mossad cum State Department heartthrob, ‘little pitchers have big ears,’ and Officer Sipowitz had overheard and spread that tale all over the precinct; thankfully to the disdain by most his fellow officers

“Officer Farnetti?” Sayers said, evoking no response.

“Darla?” Jo tapped her niece’s elbow. Darla turned her attention to her boss.

“We…we want you to take off. Don’t worry about comp or sick leave. Your fellow officers pooled their FMLA time and you’ve got as long as you need for your Mom. We want you to know we’ve got your back, okay?” Darla shook her head at the sentiment., once again feeling undeserving. Jo noticed and stood up as she rubbed Darla’s back.

At one time in the very recent past, Jo had been mired in her own shame, but brand new changes in how she saw herself helped her see the same undeserved shame in Darla. Knowing love can do that.

You are always everywhere
You are always everywhere
You're always there
You're always there
You're always everywhere
You're always there


That evening…

A tired figure sat alone on a nice sofa in a dimly lit living room. Life had not dealt nicely with her the past year, and despite recent victories against depression and despite new insight regarding what she really hoped for, she still felt utterly alone. She wept almost silently when she lamented what would never again be and over what she feared would never come to pass.


Elsewhere…

The man shook his head. Not furiously as the moment might have demanded, but still with enough animation to indicate his resolve. Today may have been a loss, but not totally, since everyone might assume the best and drop their guard. This was not over; not by a long shot.

What made me so young and incredibly strong
And never ever wrong
So much has changed and been rearranged
And I see that I've lost

Next: Another Year


Always Everywhere
Words and music by
Gert Bettens and Sarah Bettens
as performed by K-Choice
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2_2Le1elyQ

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Comments

Elsewhere

laika's picture

That last paragraph was ominous. So apparently the bad craziness and shootouts on Park Avenue aren't over. But compared to some of the harrowing inner battles these girls have been through whatever's coming should be a piece of cake. Also, I'm not convinced things are as hopeless as Darla thinks they are between her and Beseema. Our author's as much of a sucker for happy endings as her fans are.
~hugs, Little Fanny Fangirl

Ohhh...

I was beginning to worry and just about to inquire, which I will do anyway. But now my fears are assuaged though I may bother you anyway. The wait was...as usual...well worth the new chapter. ;-)

Oh no...It's another...

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrat

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