Chapter One
A Month Later
Walter couldn't sleep. He often had trouble turning off his brain, but tonight.
. . it was impossible.
After almost four weeks of pretending their marriage was real, Happy was
barely speaking to him. Toby was still pissed at him. Sylvester had cracked
under all the tension and now spent most of his time with his role-playing
wizard pals. Cabe had distanced himself during the INS inspection, mainly
to keep himself ignorant of their scheming, but also to avoid Ms Linehan,
who had developed a rather alarming crush on the Homeland agent.
And Paige. . . Well, as she told anyone who would listen - she was with
Tim now. The image of her in the sparkling blue dress, the thought of her
meeting the interloper's parents, the bloody statistics Toby had been tossing
about, like the high probability Paige would marry Tim and have another child
with him . . .
Raking his hand through his hair, he tamped the bile back down his throat.
He'd always scoffed at the idea a person could have a broken heart. It was
a physical impossibility to suffer from one and not be dead. But Ralph's words
had proved him wrong, as they had sliced the circulatory muscle in his chest
in two as neatly as any knife.
He'd blown it. He should have taken her dancing. He should have asked her
to go to Tahoe with him. He should have followed through on his vow to close
the distance between them. He should have. . . Closing his eyes, he groaned.
None of his regrets mattered now. She wanted nothing to do with him as long
as he was a married man.
The only person who had ever understood him was dead. He missed his sister
so much. But even when Megan had been alive, he'd spent most of his life by
himself, isolated from other human beings, by both his intellect and lack
of social skills.
His friends either were mad at him or were avoiding him. Scorpion was in
danger of going under. He was probably going to be deported at any minute.
Ralph was becoming less and less a part of his life. And he'd lost the only
woman he would ever love.
He'd never felt so alone before in his life.
"Hey, Walter."
He looked up to see Ralph running toward his desk later that morning. "Hey,
buddy, what's up?"
Behind the boy, a bleary eyed Walter watched as Tim escorted Paige to her
desk, then plop his interloping ass on the edge of it, flirting with the liaison
as she put away her belongings. His stomach churned as they chatted and laughed
about the previous evening's ball.
"I forgot to show you this yesterday." Ralph had removed a paper from his
backpack and was waving it under Walter's nose. A large red ‘100%' was written
across the top of the page. Scanning it quickly, Walter realized it was the
calculus test he'd helped Ralph study for the previous week.
"Good job." He held up his hand so the youngster could slap him a high-five.
"Thanks." Walter watched as Ralph scrunched up his mouth. "I wish. . ."
the boy started to say before quickly darting his eyes to where his mother
and the intern were engaged in some banal banter.
"I know. I'm sorry." Walter diverted his gaze back to the math paper. Ralph
hadn't really needed his help, he knew calculus inside and out. It had just
been an excuse so the boy genius could spend more time with him.
"They're going away for the weekend," Ralph murmured. "Some romantic place
up the coast. I'm sick of hearing about it." With a sigh only a preteen could
pull off, he added, "Tim seems really enthusiastic about their trip. I mean,
really enthusiastic. He keeps looking at my mom with a big grin on
his face whenever he talks about it. It's disgusting."
Walter choked on the sip of coffee he'd just taken. Oh, shit. They
were going to sleep together. If they hadn't already. Paige neither had confirmed
nor denied if she'd been intimate with the other man. He knew it was none
of his business, but. . . It hurt. The thought of her and the interloper together.
. .
Giving his head a shake to clear it of its disturbing images, he turned
his attention back to the youngster. "You could stay with me. . ." he started
to offer before the boy interrupted.
"I'm staying with Sylvester. It's already been arranged." Ralph rolled his
eyes. "Sly's taking me to a comic book convention. Not the cool one in San
Diego though. Some lame one over in West Covina."
"Oh, okay." Walter felt sorry for the kid. Ralph loved his mother and she'd
do anything for her son. But she was either ignoring or indifferent to the
boy's pain. Even he could tell she was making Ralph miserable with her choice.
A horn sounded outside. "Carpool, Ralph," Paige called, diverting her attention
away from the trainee for a moment.
"I gotta go." The boy genius hefted up his backpack, then pointed to the
math paper on Walter's desk. "You can keep it. . .if you want."
"I will. And thanks." Walter watched as the boy scramble out of the building.
He didn't blame Ralph for being disappointed with him. But he'd promised not
to interfere. And as much as he regretted making that vow, he knew to break
it would not endear him to anyone, especially Paige. Plus it would be futile,
since she'd made it plain she wanted nothing to do with a married man.
Glancing up, he noticed Tim was still perched on her desk. He wanted to
tell the other man to quit bothering her so she could do her work. He had
every right to do so, he was the boss. But. . .
The door creaked open noisily as it admitted Cabe into the garage. ""Walter!
Good news," he announced as he strode inside, waving a manila file. "I received
a call from Washington, D.C. this morning. The president wanted to thank Team
Scorpion for all their help yesterday so he issued an executive order, granting
you citizenship."
Walter was speechless. He'd been so sure he was about to be tossed from
the country. This was. . .unexpected.
"He can do that?" asked Paige, getting out of her chair and walking toward
the Homeland agent.
"He can and he did." Cabe smiled. "Naturalization ceremony is this Friday
at 1:30 at the convention center. Congratulations, son."
The older man clapped him on the back before giving him a small US flag
he'd had in his jacket pocket with one hand and the folder he'd been carrying
with the other. "Agent Linehan dropped these off at my office this morning.
She didn't seem very happy. I don't think she likes me anymore." He chuckled.
Walter took the file Cabe proffered and opened it. The big red "APPROVED'
stamp across the top of the application should have made him feel something;
happiness, relief, pride; something other than the emptiness gnawing at his
insides.
"And after the ceremony, we can buzz up the street a few blocks to the county
courthouse and file the divorce papers," said Toby. He tapped a pile of papers
on his desk. "All filled out and ready to go."
"Because that won't appear suspicious at all," Sylvester pointed out.
"Once he's a citizen, it won't matter anymore," said the shrink. "And baby
Quintus is making his/her appearance in less than six months. We can't waste
any more time."
"I hate to rain on your parade, Doc," Cabe said as he poured himself a coffee.
"But it took six months for my divorce from Rebecca to go through. And it
wasn't all that complicated. No custody, no alimony. . ."
"I won't be contesting it," Walter said. "There's no communal property to
divide up, and like you said no custody or alimony agreements to work out."
"I'm not 100% sure, but I think that's just the minimum wait," the agent
said.
"You're serious?" Toby's voice trembled as he glanced from Cabe to Walter.
"Shit." He pointed at Walter. "This is all your fucking fault, you bastard.
Why couldn't you have gone back to Ireland for six fucking months when your
visa ran out instead of forcing Happy into an illegal marriage?" He took a
menacing step toward Walter. "You mother. . ."
"Toby!" Paige's shout interrupted his profanity laced rant. "That's enough
of that kind of language."
"He didn't force me to do anything, numb nuts," Happy snapped as Toby glanced
from woman to woman. "It was my idea in the first place."
"What? Why am I just hearing this now?" the shrink wailed angrily.
"Have you told me about every horrendously stupid decision you've ever made?"
The mechanic glared at the father of her child, who shook his head. "I didn't
think so."
"God dammit, I just had to spend four of the most hellish weeks of my life
watching you and Walter pretend to be married, and now you're telling me I
have to wait another six months before you can divorced his sorry ass?" He
growled in frustration, spinning around as if he was looking for something
to hit.
"You can all sort out your personal lives later," growled Cabe. "I'm not
just here as the INS's errand boy. We've got another case to deal with."
Reluctantly, everyone gathered around as the agent outlined what he knew
about the mission. "It involves a drug smuggling ring that operates between
Colombia, Spain, and Los Angeles. Cocaine and emeralds are shipped from Colombia
to Spain. Spain sends the money to LA to get laundered. The freshly washed
cash is forwarded on to the cartel headquarters in Colombia.
"The money trail has been staked out for months. We just couldn't figure
out how the drugs and jewels were reaching Spain. They weren't coming over
in planes or boats. They weren't using drug mules."
"So what do they want from us?" asked Walter. "This doesn't sound like our
area of expertise."
"I'm getting to that," Cabe said. "Turns out they bought an old Soviet nuclear
sub and outfitted it with sonar and radar jamming software."
"So it travels undetected from port to port?" asked Sylvester.
"That's correct," the older man said. "We're guessing they stick to the
Caribbean and the Atlantic. Going through the Panama Canal would blow their
cover."
"Makes sense," agreed Walter. "Where is it now?"
"Waiting to be dry docked in Cartagena," the agent replied. "Our intel says
for routine maintenance and upgrades."
"Upgrades?" Walter now knew why Scorpion was needed for the job. "They want
us to go in and hack the jamming software so its whereabouts will be exposed,
and. . ."
"Catch them red-handed with a sub full of blow," finished Cabe. "We're going
to be working with the DEA and Interpol on this one."
"Interpol?" Toby popped out of his chair. "Does that mean. . ."
His question was interrupted by the garage door opening. A tall woman with
long brown hair entered the building, the heels of her shoes clicking on the
concrete floor.
"Hello," said Agent Simone Taylor, smiling as she scanned the team's faces.
Her grin broadened as her eyes rested on their leader. "Good to see you again,
Walter."
"S-Simone, nice to. . .see you." Walter gulped nervously. She was still
as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair was longer now, and she seemed, well,
softer. And the way she was looking at him. . .
That hadn't changed at all. He recalled in vivid detail how her hand had
felt on his thigh, her husky voice asking him up to her room. At the time,
he hadn't regretted turning down her offer. But now. . .
His eyes met with Simone's. She gazed knowingly at him, as if she was reading
his mind. It was obvious her interest in sleeping with him had not diminished
over time.
Paige was more than likely having sex with Tim or would soon be. She'd moved
on. He needed to do the same. Taking a deep breath, he realized if Simone
did indeed extend the same invitation to him again, there was an excellent
chance he would accept it this time without hesitation.