The Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts, Philadelphia

October 13

Jaclyn Norris looked out at the patrons filing into the twenty-five-hundred-seat Verizon Hall, a cello-shaped auditorium especially built and designed for the Philadelphia Orchestra. This was her first time to see Cassady perform without having to hide in the shadows, and she had a wonderful vantage point. She was positioned in the middle of the first-tier balcony, in the choice Conductor’s Circle seats just behind and above the stage. From here, she could look directly down onto the musicians and beyond, to the audience. She had declined Cassady’s offer of a front-row seat on the main floor. Though it would have given her a better view of her lover, she would also risk running into one of the governing trio of the EOO.

Cassady had frequently invited Montgomery Pierce, Joanne Grant, and David Arthur to attend her concerts, but they had declined all except her first big performance after graduation. Jack had deliberately avoided that one performance, not wanting to chance being seen. Although it was well after she had faked her death and had facial reconstruction, she always feared one of the big three would make her. And she knew what they did to ops who deserted.

She still didn’t know why Pierce had withdrawn the order to have her killed when the EOO learned she was still alive and working with Cassady, aka Lynx, in Vietnam. So far, Pierce had made no move to contact her, and he was aware that she and Cassady were now living together. Even stranger, he had not summoned Cassady for an assignment since Operation Face.

The musicians emerged from the wings to take their places, and when Cassady settled into her seat among the second violins, Jack, as always, thought she would burst with pride. Her silky blond hair shone under the lights, and the formfitting black gown she’d chosen for tonight was one of Jack’s favorites.

Everything about Cassady filled her with pride. She was bright, determined, brave, and so full of hope for the world, and more important, for Jack. They had been inseparable for months, spending most of their time at her apartment in New York, with the occasional long weekend at Cassady’s place in Colorado.

Jack hadn’t felt this happy since…well, ever. For the first time in her life, she felt free to just be. She didn’t feel like she had to run, or hide, always looking over her shoulder, trying to struggle through another day. On the contrary, she looked forward to each new morning. It meant one more day she could spend with Cassady, one more night of holding her in her arms while they talked or simply watched a flick. One more glorious chance to make love to her and share a dinner or walk in the park.

It also meant another day to share her dreams for the children she was now once again counseling, in New York’s Center for Troubled Youth. Jack was finally living the dream she’d never dared dream and hoped to never have to wake from.

As the orchestra warmed up, she lifted her compact binoculars to scope out the area directly in front of the stage. Were they there? She was curious about how her ex-bosses would look after all these years. She slowly scanned the front row seats, searching faces with the powerful lenses, and suddenly froze. Her breath caught in her throat. There, staring right back at her through his own binoculars, was Montgomery Pierce.

They both remained motionless for several seconds, apparently neither wanting to be the first to back off. Could Pierce see the challenge in her posture since her eyes were covered? She didn’t know what she expected to see in his face, but it was difficult to read his expression. His lips were tight. Finally, he lowered his binoculars but continued to look at her. Sadness. That’s what Jack saw. Raw, almost uninhibited sadness. Joanne Grant glanced up, following his gaze, and Jack saw her lips move, forming her name. Jaclyn. That’s right, Jack thought. He’d never called her Jack, never anything but her full name.

She studied them both. Pierce’s once-blond hair was now completely gray, and the wrinkles around his mouth were deeper, but the intense look in his eyes was still there. Grant had gained a few pounds in the nearly nine years since Jack had seen her, and her formerly ebony hair was white and shorter than ever.

Grant put her arm on Pierce’s, leaned close to his ear, and said something. Pierce reacted with an uncharacteristically sad, almost melancholic smile, then looked up at Jack and slightly nodded just as the lights dimmed.

She should’ve been happy to see him out of sorts like that, with an almost guilty look on his face for a moment, but she simply felt devoid of emotions. If pressed to admit to anything, she’d probably have said she was almost a bit sad herself. She put the binoculars away and turned her attention to Cassady as the conductor raised his baton.

“Are you all right, honey?” Joanne asked in a low voice.

“I don’t know,” Monty replied distractedly.

“How did she look?”

“Like she hates me. And why wouldn’t she?”

“We can talk about all that later. We’re here for Cassady tonight. Please try to enjoy the evening.” She squeezed his hand.

“Of course,” he said. “You’re right.”

“I told Cassady we wanted to meet with her after the concert.”

“Did she ask why?”

“She didn’t have to. She’s bright. She just said this virus had to be stopped.”

“She’s always been fearless.” Monty tried for a smile, but Joanne would see through it. His mind was still on Jaclyn and the bittersweet feeling of seeing her. Even from this distance he could ignore the facial reconstruction enough to recognize her. And though her eyes were obscured, that familiar air of confidence and daring had never changed. The body language that spoke of cool, controlled intensity. She had a presence that mirrored only one other he had ever known.

“Will you ever talk to her?” Joanne asked casually.

“I don’t think she’s interested.”

“But it’s in your best interest. This is eating you up.”

“I have it under control, Joanne,” he said, a bit irritated. More by the truth of the statement than her persistence.

“You don’t have to put up that cool and controlled facade for me.”

“What?” Monty was surprised. Had she been reading his mind? Just then, the orchestra started to play.

Date: 2015-01-11; view: 857