At 7 PM on the dot, both Drake and Tony arrived at the restaurant. A couple of minutes later Paula, Joy & Gillian arrived.
"Ladies, thank you all for coming. I must say you all look lovely this evening." Drake tried to be as charming as possible but felt awkward.
The waiter seated them at a table.
Tony sat next to Gillian and looked very comfortable and at home; Drake envied him.
"I will start by apologising for my recent behaviour. I have been a bit out of sorts lately and rather unfairly I think I have taken it out on you. Gillian, Joy & Paula, I'm sorry." Drake looked at them in turn and figured he still had some groveling to do. But well begun is half done.
The waiter reappeared and handed out menus.
Half way through the meal Drake decided that things were going ok, he had managed not to upset anybody. Even Joy appeared to be having a good time although she still made him uneasy.
"So John, are you married?" asked Paula.
Drake stopped eating; the question had caught him off guard and he could feel all eyes on him. Without looking up he said, "I was. She died." He hoped desperately that nobody would push the point. Rescue came in the shape of Tim McGee.
"Hi everybody, sorry to butt in like this but Tony, Gibbs has been trying to phone you for the past hour. Your cell is switched off. He told me where you were and told me to get you."
"Oh great!" complained Tony rising from his seat. "The moral of this story is never make dinner plans in ear shot of the boss. Sorry you guys I'll have to catch up with you later. Oh and Drake just pretend that I'm following you home."
As they walked away from the table McGee could be heard saying, "He said to remind you of rule #3."
The occupants of the table were left desperately seeking small talk. Drake took the plunge. "So what do you guys do to relax? Do you actually get any free time?"
Paula looked up and said, "I have just taken up ‘Mushi Quan'."
Joy looked puzzled. "Sounds like Chinese food?"
"It the proper name for kick boxing." said Paula shaking her head.
Gillian was laughing quietly to herself. "So what do you do to relax John?" she asked.
"I don't tend to have much free time. But I do like to read. Oh and I run a lot."
The meal progressed without incident or the conversation straying into sensitive or work related topics, which with all things considered Drake thought was quite an achievement. He felt that things might get onto an even keel with his new colleagues if he could avoid putting his foot in his mouth, shouting at anybody or getting too personal.
Joy made him nervous. She reminded him of Samantha, the resemblance had thrown him when they first met and when she introduced her self he knew he had not made a good impression. He knew that working with her was going to be like being haunted. He had to keep it under control. At the end of the evening they went their separate ways. Drake decided to get a cab back to his apartment as he had a few glasses of wine with dinner. As with locks on doors ‘Better safe than sorry'. Tomorrow would be a new start.
-------
It had been a couple of days since the meal. Everything seemed ok with the team. It felt very strange to Drake to be part of a team. In his line of work, unless you were under cover you just didn't work ‘with' people.
He still found himself staring at Joy on a regular basis and scolded him self every time, hoping that nobody noticed. He liked her and because he liked her he tried to stay out of her way. No way did he want her hurt as well.
As always the best laid plans screw up. Drake and Joy were sitting in a rental car watching a small hotel down town. Drake had picked up some information, which led him to think they might get a lead to Ari. Nothing was happening.
"Do you want more coffee?" Joy offered Drake the flask.
"Not without a bathroom. I hate stakeouts in cars." He said grumpily.
Joy laughed. It sounded nice. It made Drake remember.
*** Flash Back ***
It's a year ago. London. A wet, cold December evening.
Drake had spent the day with an Israeli agent exchanging information. Something about the meeting didn't feel right.
He had learned to trust his instinct. This time his controller had told him in no uncertain terms to "ignore what he thought and do his job."
The job was done, contact made and information had been exchanged. But still…He couldn't put his finger on it.
He got out of his car and walked over to his flat. The light was on so he knew that Samantha was home. He walked in the door.
"Hello sweetheart, had a good day?" She asked
"The usual, paper work and filing." He lied and he hated lying to Sam. But he was told that as far as friends and family were concerned he was a civil servant. Every time he had to lie he felt his gut churn.
She told him she loved him, she made him feel good. She was the most honest, clean and true thing in his life and he loved her more than he could ever hope to put into words.
"I love you too, my angel, my life."
She laughed and smacked him on the butt and told him to get ready.
They were going out for a meal with friends. Drake didn't want to but arrangements had been made and he knew how much Sam was looking forward to it.
The restaurant was busy and they were early.
"A drink in the bar?" He asked.
"Love to babe. I'll have a Baileys."
"Jack Daniels and a Baileys." Drake said to the bartender who busied him self with glasses and bottles.
"Ice?" was the only question that the bartender asked. "No, thanks." replied Drake.
He took the glasses over to a small table where Sam was waiting. Moments later Mark and Wanda arrived and a social evening commenced.
Later. They were leaving the restaurant. Mark and Wanda had left moments earlier. Drake and Sam were crossing the road to their Volvo. A car pulled up just in front of them. "Drake!" called the driver. "John Drake!"
Drake looked and saw it was the agent he had spent the day with. He was pointing a handgun. A shot rang out Drake was hit in the shoulder and the car sped away, wheels screeching. As he fell, he turned and saw his beloved wife crumpling behind him. The bullet had passed through him and hit her in the temple.
As she was collapsing before his eyes he couldn't help thinking that apart from the slight surprise on her face she looked relaxed and peaceful.
He knew immediately that she was dead.
And as the world began to spin around him he knew that bastard Ari Haswari would pay for this.
*** Flash Back Ends ***
Drake was jerked back into the present.
"Do you recognise him, Drake? Are you awake?"
Drake turned to look across the road to where Joy had pointed.
"No. Do you?" mumbled Drake.
"No." Joy photographed the man anyway.
"You ok?" she asked looking hard at Drake.
"Yeah, yes of course I am. Why?"
She handed him her handkerchief. "Your face is wet." she said.
Drake hadn't noticed but tears had been streaming down his cheeks.
"Damn allergies." he said, covering his emotion as best he could.
Joy could see his discomfort and wondered if she should press the point. Instead she suggested that six hours watching a dump of a hotel might be enough for a while and going back to HQ might prove more fruitful.
Drake could not argue. He didn't have the heart for it now. Apart from that he still needed a bathroom.
They headed for NCTC office for up dates.
Drake was putting photographs into a facial recognition database; in the six hours that he and Joy had sat outside the hotel they had photographed nearly 40 people. Software could go through mug shots much quicker and more efficiently than people. Paula entered the office.
"Oh hi." she said. "What are you doing?"
He explained as briefly as he could then looked Paula up and down.
"What have you been doing, you look good but exhausted." he said choosing his words with care.
"Been to the gym, kick boxing training and a general workout." She looked hard at Drake. "Never see you training." she observed.
"No." he responded simply.
"You should keep in shape." Paula stated settling at her desk.
"There is nothing wrong with my shape." said Drake slightly defensively.
"You think?" she said slightly goading Drake.
"Yes, thinking is part of Intelligence work." said Drake without looking up from the computer screen.
Resigned to not getting a reaction from Drake, Paula asked, "Would you like a Coffee?"
"Is the Pope Catholic?" responded Drake. "Black no sugar, thanks Paula"
"That's ok; get me one whilst you're out there please." She said sweetly from behind a pile of paper work.
Drake knew he had been out maneuvered and was graceful in defeat, rising from his desk he headed for the break room and poured two cups of coffee.
He returned to the office and put down one of the cups on Paula's desk.
"Thanks," she said reaching around half a trees worth of forms.
Drake sat down and looked at his screen. There was a match. He memorised the information and left the room without a word.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.