The Legacy

The Legacy
Message from Paris

Part II Scene I

Katrina Bradley stared out the hotel window onto the lights of Copenhagen, or was it Lugano. She could barely remember. After three years in the Legacy, all the cities had started to blend into one.
The city looked peaceful, lights twinkling and the trees still in the balmy night. A few cars were on the road, but nothing like the crush of humanity that would occupy her streets in only a few short hours as the sun started to rise and her citizens crawled out of their warm bed and made their way to work.
It was another sleepless night. Another long stretch of darkness where sleep eluded her, but the dreams continued despite her eyes being open. There had been few nights of sleep, and even fewer that weren't plagued by her dreams of what might have been. Katrina sipped the tea that she held in her hand, feeling the warm liquid slip down her throat, warming her chest. She continued to stare at the lights, suspended in the blackness of night like giant fireflies, except their sharp lines giving away their man-made origins. Once again her mind slipped back three years ago.

Part II Scene II

1996

Keep it steady.

Lights flashed and a machine blew sweet smelling smoke out onto the writhing bodies. The voice whispered in her ear, smooth and seductive. The floor shook with the dance beat, and people yelled their conversations, ignoring the ringing in their ears, nodding when they really didn't understand. Men smelled of cigarettes and too much cologne, women hiked their skirts, everyone had a drink in their hand, and some had that far away glazed look of something else.
It was funny how you could be in a crowd like this and still feel totally alone.
The brunette moved silently and gracefully, dangerous, like a cat that is stalking its prey. The pounding music was making her head hurt, but she had to stay there a little longer. Just a little longer.
Move left, to the right. Forward. Stop, and wait here.
Katrina obeyed the voice, knowing she would end up in the right place. Even if things got messy and the controller couldn't guide her out, she still had her gun; her glock, the metal warm against her body, packed tightly against her thigh.
Towards the bar.
She scanned the room, looking over the crowd, until she found the bar, surrounded by people. Slowly, she started towards it.

Part II Scene III

It was the hub, the heart, the center of The Legacy. It was where everything happened, trained professionals guided operatives, controlling their every move, until they found their goal.
Philip Lancaster stood tall in the control center as he watched the technician direct his operative through the crowded Berlin disco. His face was serious and his eyes were gray and stormy. There were only minutes to go until their target arrived. He'd done this a million times, but he could never shake the sense of urgency, the feeling of fear, as he sent another operative into the field. Maybe he didn't want to shake it. After all, it was part of what he loved about his job.
"The mark has arrived in the limo."
Philip looked at the bank of monitors in front of him. On one, an Arabic woman was getting out of a long white limousine.
"Where is she?" he grunted, his eyes scanning the rest of the monitors. He expertise was planning, not the technical stuff.
"Right here sir." The controller, a skinny kid named Jeff or John or something, pointed to another screen. He saw a camera moving slowly towards the bar. Philip glanced at it quickly; eager to move on to the next step, then stopped and stared.
"Bloody Hell." he hissed under his breath. The controller looked at his boss, confused. Obviously he saw something they'd missed. Philip ran a hand through his hair, his face gone white.
"Sir?" the controller asked, his face confused.
"Rewind that segment again. Where she was approaching the bar."
"watch screen eleven, Sir."
Philip leaned closer to the monitor as they watch the operative approach the bar again. His eyes grew wide and he pulled back, still calm, but his face serious.
"Get me Fairchild at the Smith Island House on the phone." Philip barked then stared back at the screen. "And keep her away from the bar."
If it were him, it would compromise the entire mission.

Part II Scene IV

Katrina circled back to the dance floor. The acid smell of the smoke made her feel like she was going to choke. She checked her watch. She'd seen the mark enter the club and knew it was almost time. Any minute now Jeff would give the signal and she would move into place. Her circles around the club became smaller.
"Hold it Kat." the voice crackled in her ear. She froze. Hold it? Something had gone wrong. "Keep moving."
She moved back around the dance floor, bumping into a lame glad clubber then moved back towards the bar. Sweat started to bead up on her forehead and her palms felt damp. Damn it. If she kept moving like this, she would be spotted for sure. Kat went to the bar and rested against it.
"Not there. Move on."
That was when she felt it. Eyes staring at her from some corner. Every muscle in her body tensed up and the hair on the back of Kat's neck prickled. She turned around quickly and scanned the room. Every one seemed self-absorbed as usual. She pushed off the bar and moved towards a dark corner of the club. It might offer some needed cover.

Part II Scene V
Jeffery glanced back at his boss who was pacing across the floor. He turned back to the screens in front of him. Katrina was moving quickly towards a corner of the club. Good girl, he thought, get some cover.
"Keep it steady." he said softly into the microphone. "You look safe there." His voice shook a little, he could feel his hands getting cold and clammy. Hang in there Katrina, just a little longer. Something was wrong, and the controller just wanted to give the code for her to get out of there and fast.

Part II Scene VI
Smoke hung in clouds, seeping into the dark paint that covered the wall, permeating clothes and hair. It was a good place to hide. Katrina sunk further into the grimy corner. To her right a woman tipped a small brown vial, then place her long fingernail by her nose, sniffing quickly. To her left a couple was kissing, their faces smashed up against each other, lips and tongues groping. No one was paying attention to the brunette with the slightly wild look in her eyes.
Katrina leaned against the cool wall and let out the breath she'd been holding as she crossed the club. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen. Her heart was pumping hard, and it seemed she could hear every minute noise around her. She closed her eyes.
"Dammit Jeffery, give me the command to abort. I'm ready to get out of this hellhole." she said under her breath then opened her eyes. Nothing about the room seemed unusual, but she knew someone was watching her. Someone who knew who she was and why she was there. She'd had this feeling before on an assignment, and the last time her team had been ambushed by a group of gunmen and they lost three agents. Katrina clenched her fist in frustration. It was time to get out of there.
"Stay where you are Katrina. Don't do anything crazy." Jeffery said quietly. She could hear the concern in his voice, a slight shake. He was worried about her. Damn, he was the best controller she'd worked with yet. He knew when his agent was about to bolt.
"We should have resolution in a minute. Orders are to stay in a holding pattern."
Fuck orders, and damn them if she was going to stand around and wait to be killed. She couldn't stay there.
With a quick movement Katrina pushed out of the corner. That was when she felt the hand on her arm. There you are, you bastard, she thought as she put her left foot back a little and brought her elbow up to crush her attacker's windpipe. With a quick motion, her assailant pulled her back and blocked her defense. Whomever it was had anticipated her move. Whomever it was had similar training. Katrina lost her concentration for a brief moment, and before she knew it, she was being pulled through a dark doorway.
Part II Scene VII

It'd been almost ten minutes. Ten minutes could compromise the entire mission.
"Keep her roaming" Philip growled to the controller. "Just keep her in circles."
Dammit, he swore to himself as he watched the controller softly whisper instructions into the microphone. What was taking Fairchild so long?
"Sir?"
Philip ignored the Controller as the door to the room swung open.
"Sir, I think..."
"Not now." Philip growled. Whatever the Controller had to say, it was less important than the woman entering the room was. It was Ms. Maxwell, his secretary, and she wore a look of urgency on her face. She had a piece of paper in her hand. Philip grabbed the piece of paper and scanned it quickly. His heart clenched. It might be too late.
"Pull her out!" he yelled as he turned back to the screens. "God damn it, pull her out, and pull her out fast."

Part II Scene VIII

The arms around her were strong. They wrapped around her trapping her arms while a hand went over her mouth to muffle any screams. There was nothing to muffle as Katrina grunted, trying to sink her teeth into her assailant's hand.
It was a man, about six feet tall, strong but not big. Kat's training helped her size the situation. Anyway, his cologne would have been a dead giveaway. He smelled familiar. Katrina's head started to spin. That cologne, it was... it was. All of her training slipped away and Katrina felt herself go weak. She had to get it together. She had to keep it together. She.... Katrina made herself go hard inside. Anyone could wear that cologne. This wasn't the time to let sentimentality get the best of her. One wrong move and a knife could be inserted between her ribs, or her neck broken with a swift crack. She had to get away before she met the same fate as some of her colleagues.
The man's breathing was heavy and damp on her neck. Katrina twisted a little, trying to get away. She tried to get an elbow loose but he blocked her. He was anticipating her every move...Legacy trained. She twisted again, this time getting her elbow free enough to dig him in the ribs. He grunted, but his grip didn't loosen. Damn it. After trying a third time to escape Katrina stopped struggling, her breathing hard. This was doing her no good. She had to calm down and wait for his guard to come down. She went limp. If it looked like she had given up, she might....
"Are you wired?" he asked so low she could barely hear him, his breathing hot and hard against her ear. Katrina froze. That voice...she knew that voice. Katrina nodded, her chest heaving up and down.
It was a voice from her past, a voice from her dreams.
She felt a hand reach around her lapel and grab the tiny camera that was pinned there. With a swift motion, he crushed the camera between his fingers. The hand dropped from her mouth, but screaming was no longer in her mind. Katrina whipped around. She stared at the man, unable to find any words. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't....
"What the hell are you doing here." his voice was low, almost inaudible. Katrina just stared. She moved closer, her hand going out to touch him, feeling the cotton of his shirt against her fingertips.
"Kat?"
Her voice was gone. Katrina moved closer, and with a swift motion, put her arm around his neck, her fingers tangling in his long hair as she crushing her lips to his. Her whole body let out a sigh.
Declan
She'd found him.

Part II Scene IX

"Sir?" the Controller said again. Philip looked at him, distracted. Didn't he understand this was a life or death situation? This wasn't the time for questions.
"I said PULL HER OUT!"
"I can't sir. We've lost her."
Philip stared at the screens in front of him. Most of them still showed the club, fully of people dancing, drinking smoking, but one was black. It was Katrina's.

Part II Scene IX
"Sir?" the Controller said again. Philip looked at him, distracted. Didn't he understand this was a life or death situation? This wasn't the time for questions.
"I said PULL HER OUT!"
"I can't sir. We've lost her."
Philip stared at the screens in front of him. Most of them still showed the club, fully of people dancing, drinking smoking, but one was black. It was Katrina's.

Part II Scene X
Legacy Handbook, Section A, Paragraph 6.3
You will not leave your team at any time. This is the one thing that will put an agent in the most danger. Complete all missions as ordered. Remember that you are a member of the Legacy, not an individual, when you are in the field.
The puddles on the ground were opaque and black. The water splashed up onto Kat's bare legs leaving muddy streaks as she ran. The night air was cold but she didn't feel it as Declan pulled her down yet another dark alley. She'd lost her bearings a long time ago with all the twists and turns they'd taken through the dark streets. She felt dizzy, trapped, spinning through a dark and desolate world. They turned down another street, then duck into another alley. Katrina was disoriented, running through the darkness with no idea of where they were going.
Declan seemed to know these streets very well. The thought stood out clear in her muddled head. He must have been in Berlin for a while now. Her breathing was fast as they dashed across yet another abandoned street and her face was damp. Sweat or rain, she couldn't tell.
It had been drizzling when they'd crept out the back door of the club, peering down the dark back alley. Declan started towards the street, and Kat followed him, stopping briefly to tear off the brunette wig exposing her cropped dark blond hair. Declan moved quickly and Kat followed his cue, neither saying a word. It was like old times when they'd worked together, each anticipating the other's move to near perfection, watching each other's body language, moving almost in synch. There was urgency in Declan's grip as she held tightly to his hand, like electricity running between them. Katrina knew they had to get out of there, and fast.
Declan turned another corner, into another narrow alley, looked around quickly, then stopped.
Katrina looked around. Fire escapes ran up the tall walls, a Dumpster overflowed with kitchen scraps and old bottles and the skeleton of a stove had been pushed into one of the corners. Katrina took in a deep breath and the smell of rotting garbage and molding walls filled her nostrils. She leaned her back against the wet brick wall, trying to catch her breath, ignoring the dampness that seeped through her top. Declan collapsed on the wall next to her with a soft thud, his breathing heavy as hers. Katrina stole a glance at him, then closed her eyes.
Any minute now. Any minute I'll wake up.
"Oh God, Kat."
Her eyes flew open. Declan was staring at her, his long hair soaked from the rain, his face older, tired, but his eyes...they were the same, with the same pain she'd seen when.... no, don't' remember. It hurts too much.
Silence stretched between them. During the last two weeks Katrina had become used to the sounds of Berlin: the crowds of people, the sirens and cars. Now, as they stared at each other, the quiet was deafening and the only sound was the soft patter of the rain. Declan moved closer; his hand coming up to touch her face, tentatively, like she might fade away. Kat shivered as his fingers touched her skin.
"Where have you been all this time?" Kat asked as she was gasping for breath.

Part II Scene XI
Declan thought about the club where he'd been working for months now trying to get into the DuPre drug organization. The acid smoke that would leave him coughing in the mornings, hoping this assignment didn't end up giving him lung cancer; the skinny, wasted women at the club falling all over him, offering their services for his; the white powder that went up their nose, leaving them begging for more.
Then the parent organization had bumped accidentally into a Legacy project, and Declan's heart had stopped as he watched the brunette with the long hair walk slowly across the room, her gait strong and slow, walking like she was wired, walking like a ghost from his past.
Maybe he would have done it all differently if he had to do it again. Maybe he would have ignored the woman who was like an imprint on his heart. Maybe he would have gone to Philip and asked to get out, but he hadn't acted logically. He'd acted like a man who hadn't eaten in days as he grabbed Katrina and pulled her into a dark corner. He'd acted like a man on a suicide mission as he'd pulled out the back door and into the alley, knowing that the Legacy was not kind to those who betrayed her.
But this wasn't something he wanted Kat involved with, and if she did it was only a matter of time before the Legacy would try to suck her up too. He couldn't bear to see her sell her soul like he'd sold his. He had to run. He had to keep her innocent, at least for the time being.
"Shhhh. I can't tell you Kat, and it's not worth talking about."
With a swift motion, Declan rolled onto her, pressing her into the wall with his weight. He'd wanted to do this from the moment he'd realized it was her in the club. His head dipped down as his mouth captured hers. The kiss was deep and desperate. It threatened to consume her as his mouth pushed against hers, but she pushed back, equally, feeling some of the pain that she'd been carrying around with her start to seep away as his lips moved on hers.
Kat's hands came around his waist, tugging at his wet shirt, wanting to find the warm skin of his back. She arched back a little, her breasts against his chest, the pressure starting a dull ache that he'd only known in his dreams.
"Holt euch doch ein Zimmer!"
The voice made both Declan and Katrina jump. Kat's hand automatically went to her waistband, and Declan knew she had a gun there. A gun would tip off the policeman. Declan put his hand on her arm, and she froze, reading his silent message to hold off.
"Zahn zu, so lange dauert es auch nicht!"

Part II Scene XI
The loud voice had made her heart jump, and she'd almost whipped out her gun until Declan's hand, steady on her arm had stopped her. A police officer was standing in front of them, his face grim. Declan put his arm around Katrina and nodded at the officer. Quickly, they walked away from the policeman and towards the street. Kat kept her head tucked in Dec's shoulder as they walked down the darkened street. What was going on? Where were they going? What was going to happen when she returned to headquarters after leaving the mission? She couldn't think about it. Kat inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of Declan mixed with the dank smell of wet dirt. It was like life and death mixed together.
She didn't care. Finding Declan had been her only reason for rejoining anyway. Now that she had, she would never had to go back.

Part II Scene XII
Water pooled in the alley leaving black holes that reflected the moonlight. A woman stepped out of the shadows and watched the couple as they scurried into the night. Her black coat was slick with rain and her normally fiery red hair was plastered against her forehead, turned deep auburn from the water. She looked up at the rain and then back to the now deserted street. Then, slowly, a smile crept across her face and she laughed aloud, enjoying how the sound echoed off the damp walls.

Part II Scene XIII
The control room was silent as all eyes stared at the black screen.
"Sir?" the controller said tentatively into the silence. It wasn't every day that he lost an agent in the middle of a mission. "What orders do you want me to give sir?"
Philip just stared at the screen, a muscle twitching in his jaw, his eyes cold and hard. He'd taken a break from The Legacy for the recruitment project. Then this mission had come up, and he'd lost track of Legacy agent placements. That was why seeing Declan O'Conner in Katrina's camera as she circled the club sent a chill through his body. This could compromise both agents' missions. It would also compromise his plans.
"Scan the club again."
Philip squinted a little as he looked at the screens. If O'Conner had seen Katrina, he had no doubt they were together now...Philip had read their files, he knew what had happened between them three years ago. Now it looked like he might lose two of his best agents...his reputation was on the line. Nothing was worse when a director had an agent AWOL, let alone two. Slowly, an idea started to form in Philip's head.
"Shall I call in another agent, Sir?" Ms. Maxwell's voice broke through Philip's thoughts.
"If she's dead..."
The cavernous room got even quieter as all eyes moved to Ms. Maxwell who stood near the door, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
"No." Philip said softly, his voice almost a whisper. "Ms. Maxwell, could you get me Franklin on the phone. It's urgent."
With a nod, the crisply attired secretary scurried out of the room. She was one of the best, Philip thought, as well as one of the best looking. Philip licked his lips, then turned his attention back to his plan. The timing was right, now they had to bank on Declan's soul truly belonging to The Legacy.

Part II Scene XIV
Something was wrong. Jeff had heard Franklin Fairchild's name mentioned more times that evening then he had during his whole career with the organization. Franklin Fairchild was more of a mystery than Philip Lancaster was. Both men worked in a top-secret division of the organization, but Philip would also occasionally head missions. This was the second time that Jeff had been the controller on one of Philip's teams. Franklin Fairchild remained an enigma, a name occasionally mentioned in high up circles, but a face never seen.
Jeff pictured the agent he'd worked with only a few times. She was older, tough and professional, always doing her job, never letting anyone near her. He could tell that from the minute he saw her that she was missing something and was trying to find it. He'd wanted to get to know her; to understand the mystery behind the silent specter of an agent who listened quietly then went about her business.
When Philip Lancaster had barked Fairchild's name, Jeff knew something had gone terribly wrong. Then Philip had refused to send in an agent to track down Katrina. Was Fairchild some sort of cleaner whom Philip Lancaster sent in to clean up messes? Maybe Katrina was dead. Maybe she wasn't.
Death was the easiest explanation. A chill had gone through Jeff as he saw the screen go black, then fizzle out. He'd hadn't had an agent killed on his shift yet, but he'd only been with the organization for a year. This would be his first.
There was another possibility, but the idea of Katrina leaving her mission before it was completed was unimaginable. That would mean certain death. She must have been spotted; taken to a dark room, then...Jeff stopped himself. He tried not to think about that.
The skinny kid at the control board switched off his equipment with a silent sigh as the lights on the board faded away with a whine. There wasn't much use in thinking about what happened. Tomorrow would be another mission, another day. The sad reality was that Katrina Bradley was disposable. There would be another agent to take her place, then another to take the place of that one. None of them would have her eyes, and none of them would haunt Jeff like Katrina Bradley's.

Part II Scene XV
A bare bulb hung in the middle of the small room, casting a dim yellow light over the dingy surroundings. Katrina lifted her head from Declan's shoulder and looked around. The bedspread was worn, but spread neatly over the bed. Beside the bed was a stack of worn books, dog-eared and creased. In the corner opposite the bed was a white sink, rust running from the faucets, down the ceramic and towards the drain, a red gash against the white. Between the bed and the sink was a window staring out onto a gray wet brick wall.
"It's not much."
It wasn't, but it felt safe. They had been running for what seemed like an eternity. Up one street, down another, sometimes she recognized something, most of the time she didn't. Finally they had arrived at a run down tenement that advertised rooms for cheap.
"Head down." Declan had whispered as they entered the building. Katrina was tense as they made their way through the shabby lobby, even the feel of her Glock tucked safely in her waistband didn't give her much comfort. Declan pushed her into a creaky old elevator, holding her tightly as it started moving upwards. Finally, they'd reached the room, and he'd fumbled for the keys then opened the door. Now they stood, arms wrapped around each other, staring into the silence. Katrina couldn't think of what to say.
"How did you find me?" Declan's voice broke into the silence. He took her by the shoulders and pulled her around to face him. "When I saw you in the club, I...I thought you were another dream, a ghost."
Katrina stared up into his face. It looked worn, tired, and less innocent than she remembered. She remembered his eyes from so long ago when they'd looked down into hers with a little bit of hope. We loved each other so much Declan. She couldn't' see any hope anymore, but something else. A small light hidden deep. She didn't know that the same light was coming from her eyes.
"I didn't find you, but I've been trying to for a long time."
"I didn't think I'd ever see you again." Declan's voice was raw and filled brimming over with emotion.
"Things happened, Dec. Terrible things..." Katrina said, her voice tight. She didn't want to talk about it, or even remember. It didn't matter anyway. All she wanted was to find Declan. It was what kept her alive for the past few months, through all the missions and the danger.
And now she'd found him.
Kat moved towards Declan, feeling clumsy, strange. Their hands met, fingers intertwining and he pulled her hard against him, her face crushing into his chest, and his smell filling her nostrils, the smell she'd dreamed of many nights.
"I've been looking for you." She said after a long time of their breathing meshing together. "I thought you might dead, and I'd never find you."
"Shhhh" Declan said softly. "It's not important. You found me, and I swear, Kat, I'm never going to let you go."
Katrina sunk further against Declan, feeling his body along the length of hers. Everything was okay, and she never wanted that moment to end.

Part II Scene XV
"Ouch!"
The scalding hot tea running down her hand and the soft thud as her mug hit the plush hotel carpet brought Katrina back to reality.
That's what you get for getting stuck in the past, Bradley.
"Damn." She muttered as she inspected her hand and saw that it would probably have a slight burn, but at least it wasn't her right hand. She could still wield a gun.
"Are you okay Katrina?"
Strong arms came around her waist and held her tightly. Katrina shrugged a little.
"Are you okay? I heard you cry out."
Only well-trained ears could have heard her as the tea spilled over her hand. Katrina said nothing but relaxed, leaning back into the strong embrace.
"Kat? Are you okay?"
Katrina froze. Emotions coursed through her as tears welled up in her eyes.
"Dammit Philip." She said whipping around, her voice angry. "I've told you, never call me Kat."