One Journey Ends

Tara refused to leave Ben's side even when the nurses were changing his bandages. She slept beside his bed on the uncomfortable plastic covered chair, dreaming fitfully about the attack. She would wake intermittently when the beeping broke through her nightmares. She'd called his parents to tell them what was happening but they'd disowned him when he had decided to marry her and stay in the Boston area after he graduated last year. They said they were sorry about their son's predicament but that they knew she'd eventually lead him to a terrible end. She'd hung up the phone sobbing, wishing they could be wrong.

She'd been hearing similar accusations for as long as she could remember and had hoped that her life with Ben could erase the pain at last. She'd grown up in the foster care system, having lost both parents when she was five years old. There were no relatives to take her in, so she'd been sent to social services. The families she'd been placed with weice ice enough to her at first, being that she was a young child. But she discovered as she grew that they stayed nice only so long as she remained useful to them.

She remembered the middle-aged couple who took her in when she was fourteen. They'd expected her to care for an elderly relative while they worked. She hadn't minded helping out, actually enjoying her time with the old woman. But when her frailties led the couple to put her in a nursing home six months later, they suddenly found they had no place in their busy lives for a teenager. Tara had been sent to another family who had prevailed upon her to care for their preschool toddler. When the boy entered kindergarten two years later, Tara found herself moved to yet another home. And the list went on until her eighteenth birthday when she left the system altogether and struck out on her own.

She'd been pretty independent anyway so taking care of herself turned out not to be too much of a str. Sh. She had no money for college so she worked two jobs, one full-time as a department store clerk and one part-time as a supermarket cashier, and took evening classes at a local junior college. It wasn't easy and she had little spare time, but she had few friends and enjoyed school. She was hoping to earn a business degree and make herself a better future than her past.

She met Ben at school when she took a philosophy class. He was the assistant professor in the English literature class next door and she watched him from the doorway sometimes when her professor was late. He always seemed so engrossed in his lectures she never thought he'd notice her. But one day just before finals he waited for her outside of her classroom and walked her to the station where she picked up the T. He'd asked her what she was doing for the holidays and seemed shocked to hear that she had no family in the area to spend time with. He'd immediately asked her to dinner, telling her that he wouldn't be able to get home to his own family this year as they were spending the holidays abroad. Tara had been wary about accepting his invitation but he'd been so earnest she didn't have the heart to do so.

The nurse interrupted her thoughts, coming in to check Ben's IV. She sighed as she watched, praying he would wake up soon. She needed to hear his voice so badly.

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Sven walked down the hallway, following Justin to the office beneath that of their target. He hoped they could accomplish this part of their task with relative ease, as he abhorred confrontation in cases such as these. The dark haired man before him, on the contrary, was no doubt adept at handling difficult situations. Sven knew that Justin had a very shady past when it came to undercover missions. He didn't know exactly what that past included, but the longer he was with the man the more he could sense its darkness. This was a solitary man for a reason.

"We will go into this room," Justin said, "and wait for Henderson to leave. He will probably follow his usual routine and exit by four o'clock."

"Are you sure he will leave by that time?"

"I have been watching him for two months now and he has not deviated yet."

Sven nodded and entered the door after Justin jimmied it open. "And we will not be discovered here?" the blonde man whispered. He saw Justin smile before he closed the door and enveloped them in darkness.

"It is a janitor's closet," he said smoothly. "No one will be using it until the building closes."

"Oh," Sven replied, finding himself uncomfortable with the prospect of being locked in such small quarters with Justin for a half hour.

"Are you worried I might harm you?" Justin asked, apparently reading his thoughts.

"No," Sven responded. "If you do anything, Andre will not pay you."

Justin laughed softly.

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He didn't know why the Scandinavian man made him nervous but he did. He was used to working alone. Being cooped up in a closet with a stranger wasn't his idea of a pleasant afternoon. He would have to remember to ask Andre why he'd insisted on the partnership when he next spoke with him.

"Are you claustrophobic?" he suddenly thought to ask his coworker. He was annoyed with himself for not remembering to ask that before they came here. He always took every detail into consideration before a mission.

"No," Sven answered quietly.

Well, then, that takes care of that.