M Sellars - The End Of Desire

“Believe me, I’m no more in favor of a physical confrontation than you are,” I replied. “But it just might be necessary. Perhaps even inevitable.”

“Why?”

“To get Felicity clear of Miranda.”

“How?”

“That’s an answer I wish I had, believe me.”

“And, that’s the only way?”

“It might be.”

Constance fell quiet, a deeply thoughtful look on her face. After a moment, she amended her earlier statement. “Maybe once Devereaux is in custody, we can work something out. But, not before then, that’s for sure. It’s far too dangerous.”

“This some kinda Twilight Zone thing, Row?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, but not mine,” I said with a sigh. “It’s Felicity’s.”

“So she’s doin’ la-la land too,” he huffed.

“Not exactly,” my wife’s voice came from the end of the hallway, right where it emptied into the living room. “It’s just a feeling.”

I turned and saw her standing there, arms crossed. Her expression was actually one of mild bemusement.

“Sorry,” she said. “But, you did admit you were going to talk about me behind my back. You didn’t really think I wouldn’t listen in then, did you?”

“So much for reverse psychology,” Ben muttered.

“So, this feeling… Is it like the visions Rowan gets?” Constance asked, apparently unfazed by the fact that Felicity had been eavesdropping.

“Aye, I suppose so. Yes.”

“You gettin’ anything specific from it?” Ben asked.

“Just that Annalise is somehow key to me getting free of all this.”

“I assume you heard what I just told Rowan?” Constance asked.

“I did,” Felicity answered with a nod. “But, it’s really my choice then, isn’t it?”

“No, I’m afraid it isn’t.”

My wife sighed, looked at the floor for a moment then back up to Constance. “All right then. I know I don’t have the right to ask this, but I’m going to anyway. You’ve both already been breaking the rules. Can’t you break just one more?”

“Felicity,” Constance breathed, shaking her head. “I understand what you must be…”

“Please?” my wife appealed.

Constance sighed heavily and looked at me with a pained expression before finally turning back to her. “What are you asking us to do?”

“Give her what she wants.”

“She wants you dead.”

“Yes, I know, but what she really wants is Miranda back.”

“How do you propose we give her that?”

“Simple. You give her me.”

“Not happening!” I objected immediately. “We’ll find another way to get through this.”

“Jeezus,” Ben interjected. “Are you nuts, Firehair? No way.”

“They’re right,” Constance added, shaking her head vigorously. “That’s just insane.”

“I don’t mean literally,” she explained. “I mean set a trap for her with me as the bait.”

“I’m sorry, but that isn’t even an option,” Constance told her. “This is real life, not a mystery novel.”

“Aye, then what do we do? Sit around waiting for her to knock on the door?”

“No. We make certain that the two of you are safe, and we keep looking.”

“You can’t protect me from Miranda, then. Nobody can.”

“Felicity,” Constance said. “This simply isn’t how things are done.”

My wife shook her head. “I need this to be over… I need it to be over now.”

Constance dropped her forehead into her hand and massaged it for a second before huffing out an exasperated breath and looking back up at Felicity. “It’s not going to happen. But, maybe I can compromise with you if I can get it approved.”

“How so?”

“Again, this hinges on approval from my SAC. If I can get that, when and if she calls again, I’ll let you talk to her. We’ll have you try to set up a meeting if you can,” she said. “But, I’m the bait. Not you.”

“Aye, but I still need to see her, or I won’t be able to get free of Miranda.”

“Once she’s in custody, I’ll see what I can arrange,” Constance said. “No promises. But, I’ll do what I can. Take it or leave it.”

Felicity nodded. “Fair enough then.”

“Okay, let me make a call and see if my SAC will even go for the idea.”

“You’d best get yourself a wig if you plan on pretending to be me,” my wife added.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Felicity. Even if I get this approved, I don’t think it will work. Otherwise I would have already suggested it. I really doubt she’ll even agree to a meeting, much less show up.”

“Oh, she’ll agree,” Felicity assured her. “And she will show, I can guarantee it.”

“How?”

“You have absolutely no idea what Miranda gives her. Unfortunately, I do.”

“Is it really that good?” Constance asked, a mild curiosity in her tone. “I mean, I’ve studied sexual predators before…but to risk being caught, all over sexual release?”

“Like I said…” Felicity replied. Her voice was a half whisper filled with an almost wistful longing. “You have no idea.”

Annalise finally called just before three in the afternoon. As expected, the verbal exchange between Felicity and her was heated for the duration. However, my wife played it well. Of course, when it came right down to it, there was really no acting required. Everything that came out of her mouth was real and uncensored.

Just as Felicity had predicted, it didn’t take much for Annalise to agree to a meeting between them. Still, as expected, she remained cautious and unwilling to relinquish control. She refused to commit to a time or place, except to say we should expect another call when she was ready.

The wheels spun quickly into motion, and I could feel the situation gaining speed. Even though Constance and the resources of the FBI were now on deck, deep inside I could feel that none of this was going to go according to any earthly plan, theirs or Annalise’s.

I only hoped that when the crash finally came, we would all be walking away from it in one piece. Unfortunately, I couldn’t shake the feeling that some breakage was about to occur.

“How do I look?” Constance asked, inspecting herself in the large mirror hanging over our dining room buffet.

Agent Parker had just finished helping her pin a long, bright auburn wig to her head, and she was primping the spiral curls into position around her face and across her shoulders.

She was clad in a pair of jeans and a button down shirt, much like Felicity would normally wear for a casual night out. The notable exceptions were that my wife customarily didn’t have a bulletproof vest beneath her clothes, a wireless transmitter on her belt, or a 40-caliber Sig Sauer riding in the small of her back.

“Close enough,” I said. “At a distance, definitely passable. But, once she gets close to you though, I don’t know.”

“Once she gets that close,” she replied. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Aye,” Felicity added. “Don’t worry. You look good.”

“So,” I asked. “What if she’s seen Felicity since she changed her hair?”

“Then we’re screwed,” Constance answered in a purely matter-of-fact tone. “The choice on the wig was a judgment call. They did a psych analysis on the recorded conversations and determination was that she probably would have mentioned something about Felicity’s hair if she knew. The behavioral analyst said she would have felt empowered by causing Felicity to make a change in her appearance and therefore would have felt a need to gloat about it.”

“I hope they’re right.”

“They almost always are.”

“Almost?” I asked.

“Nobody’s perfect,” she replied.