CHAPTER FOUR
when death weighs heavily
　

Virginia Beach, VA　
March 2006　

THE FLIGHT BACK TO THE UNITED STATES WAS MOSTLY FILLED WITH SILENCE. Anita tried to get some sleep, knowing she would need some rest for the long day that was awaiting her when they got back to IMF Headquarters and had to sit down with Director Brassel to go over their failed mission. But with the body bag carrying Lindsey on board, it was hard to get any shut eye when Anita felt responsible for the woman's death. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the way Lindsey looked when she had died, hear her pained cries repeating like a broken record.

Anita knew that Ethan didn't get much sleep during the flight either. He felt just as responsible as she did, and considering the one time she saw him doze off in his seat diagonal from her resulted in him jolting awake from what she could only assume was a nightmare an hour later, she knew that he wasn't going to make another attempt of falling asleep until he was back home in his own bed with his fiancé. Even then, Anita doubted that he would get any sleep. It wasn't easy carrying that kind of weight with you, and Anita knew she was going to suffer as much as Ethan would.

When they had landed in Virginia, the five of them piled inside the two black SUVs that the IMF had sent for them, Luther having called ahead when they boarded their private plane last night and informing John Musgrave that they had managed to secure Agent Farris, however, due to unfortunate circumstances, she had died. Agent Musgrave hadn't been happy to hear that, but he was at the very least relieved to hear that the team had made it out with their own lives.

Anita and Luther sat together in the backseat of the vehicle carrying the dead body of one Lindsey Farris. Ethan had come with them, obviously not wanting to leave Lindsey's side, although Anita had a feeling it was more than that. After what happened on the mission, when she had almost died, Ethan hadn't been able to take his eyes off her, or what she assumed was a sprained wrist that she had sustained from when Zhen grabbed hold of her at such an awkward angle.

It started to rain a little by the time they had arrived at the IMF Headquarters. While Lindsey's body was immediately taken to the morgue located in the lower level of the building so that an autopsy could be performed, the disks Zhen had managed to recover were taken to the Tech Services lab in hopes that they could find some information that would lead them to Owen Davian. As for the team, once they had given a full report to Agent Musgrave, he dismissed them, telling only Ethan and Anita that they should go get cleaned up in the locker room before the two of them were to attend a meeting with Director Brassel at noon.

Anita wasn't sure why she had been asked to attend the meeting. Usually only the Team Leader would give a report to the Director of the IMF, and that had been Ethan this time, not her. As she headed for the women's locker room to get cleaned up, she could only assume that Brassel wanted her there because of her perfect record with rescue missions. Or at least what used to be a perfect record.

Upon arriving at the women's locker room, Anita parted ways from Ethan, who had disappeared into the men's locker room the next door over. She chose the shower with the most privacy and quickly stripped down, stepping underneath the shower head to wash away the sweat and grime.

Once she had gotten cleaned up, Anita dried off with a towel and got dressed in the spare clothes she had packed in her duffle bag; a simple pair of jeans, a gray t-shirt and her tan leather jacket. She then brushed her damp hair, securing it back in yet another bun before she grabbed her duffle bag and threw it inside a locker for the time being, tucking the key deep inside her jeans so she wouldn't lose it.

With some time to spare before the meeting, Anita headed for one of the breakrooms. She grabbed a mug from the cabinet, rinsed it off in the sink, and then got to work making herself a cup of coffee. As she leaned back against the counter and closed her eyes, taking a long, slow sip, she heard someone enter the room.

"Thought I might find you here."

Opening her eyes at the sound of his voice, Anita found Ethan standing in the doorway, a medical kit in his hands. "What's that for?" she asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Ethan glanced down at the medical kit before meeting her eyes again. "You."

"Me?"

He raised a brow at her as he entered the room. "What, you thought that I wouldn't notice how you were favoring your wrist the entire flight?"

"I'm fine," she insisted, pushing away from the counter and sitting down at one of the tables in the room.

Ethan joined her at the table and sighed softly, knowing very well how stubborn she could be at times. "Anita, just give me your damn wrist."

They held each other's gaze for the longest moment, and when Anita realized that he wasn't going to leave her alone until he took a look at her wrist, she slowly rolled her eyes and reluctantly lowered her wrist down onto the table so that he could take a look at it.

"Go ahead," she sighed.

Ethan set the medical kit aside and carefully took her wrist in-between his hands, gently accessing the area that he remembered seeing her massage at one point during the flight. And as his skin came in contact with her own in a gentle, caring manner, Anita felt something familiar stir within her heart. She could only hope in that moment that Ethan wasn't able to feel the way her pulse had quickened upon his touch.

Clearing her throat and pushing those feelings down deep, Anita raised her mug and took another sip from her steaming cup of coffee as she watched her former partner work. His brows were furrowed in concentration and his green eyes were filled with concern as he carefully pressed down on the area that was tender, causing Anita's features to form into a fleeting grimace.

"Sorry," he apologized, looking up at her.

"It's fine," she said reassuringly. "Doesn't really even hurt much."

"You wouldn't have been favoring it if it didn't hurt," Ethan stated. "It's not bruised, which is a good sign. I don't think it's broken. You've probably just sprained it."

"Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Hunt?" Anita asked teasingly. "Or is that just an oberservation?"

A faint smile tugged at his lips, and the sight of it caused her heart to soar.

Oh, how she had missed that smile.

"I suggest taking it easy," Ethan recommended. "Give it time to heal. Ice it when you can to avoid any swelling."

"You seem to know more about sprained wrists than you did before," Anita observed with a slight tilt of her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Are you sure all you did was train new recruits? Did I somehow miss the part where you became a doctor?"

"I've learned a thing or two in the past three years," Ethan shrugged as he reached for an ace bandage from the medical kit.

Anita's smile slowly faded when she realized what he was implying. So I was right. He learned more about triaging wounds than he did when he was retired from the field than he ever did when he was working with her. She wondered if it had anything to do with his fiancé, Julia.

"Is she a doctor or something?" Anita asked quietly, barely managing to bring herself to ask such a question. But she was curious about the woman who he intended to marry.

Ethan knew who she was referring to, and he answered honestly. "A nurse, actually." His features then softened as he looked up at her, meeting her delicate gaze. "I'm sorry you had to find out about Julia that way. Luther shouldn't have—"

"It's okay," she interrupted him. "I probably would have found out you were getting married eventually, anyway."

"He shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's not like he knew about . . . you know," Anita said, motioning between them with her free hand.

"Luther always knows," Ethan scoffed. "He's almost as observant as you are, and that's saying something."

"Doesn't matter," Anita said as she looked down at the table, absent-mindedly running her thumb against the edge of her mug as Ethan carefully began wrapping an ace bandage around what he had deduced was a small sprain. "I'm not mad at Luther. And I'm not mad at you either."

His hands paused over her wrist, his green eyes connecting with her own. He was surprised, having thought Anita would never forgive him. That she would always be angry with him for breaking her heart the way he had. "You aren't?"

"I'll admit, I was angry with you for a while," Anita said honestly. "The first year was the lowest point of my entire life. You have to understand that I didn't just lose the person I loved that day. I also lost my partner, my best friend. The one person that I trusted most to have my back in the field." She could feel her eyes beginning to burn, and she fought like hell to keep any tears from forming. "But that doesn't mean that I'm not happy for you, Ethan. Because you do deserve to be happy — even if it's not with me."

"I'm sorry that it's not with you," Ethan apologized sincerely, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat upon her confession. "I wish that it was. You know that I do. But . . ."

"But I wouldn't have been happy," Anita finished for him, smiling through the pain beating within her heart. "You're right, I wouldn't have. My place is in the field, and maybe yours never was like I had once that. And that's okay. We just . . . we weren't meant to be, that's all." She shrugged.

Their eyes held each other for what seemed like an eternity, his hands still holding her own, fingers gently brushing against her skin, and the longer she stared into his green eyes, the more Anita forgot how to breathe.

Ethan drew his tongue across his lips and went to say something, but was cut off by the sound of her cell phone ringing, causing them to immediately break eye contact. Anita felt her cheeks flush as she quickly reached inside her jacket, grabbing her cell phone and checking to see who it was.

Harold Levine.

Her brow furrowed, wondering why the hell her older brother was calling her. Harold only ever called on holidays, leaving her to wonder if something terrible had happened to someone. Was it their father? Marla? Her brain raced at all the possibilities of why her brother would be calling.

"What's wrong?" Ethan asked, noticing the concerned look in her eyes.

"It's my brother," Anita replied before hesitantly stuffing the now-silenced phone back inside her jacket pocket.

"You're not going to answer it?"

"I'll call him back later."

"How are they, anyway?" Ethan asked as he got back to work wrapping her sprained wrist. "Your family, I mean."

"My father is . . . well, he's doing the best he can," Anita said. "After my mother died two years ago, he hasn't really been the same."

"How did it happen?"

"Cancer," Anita replied with a frown as she stared down at her cup of coffee. "They didn't catch it until it was too late. It happened in her sleep. She died at home in her own bed like she wanted. Took my father a while to sleep in their room again after that."

Ethan gently stroked his thumb across her knuckles. "I'm sorry," he said. "I would have been there for you if I had known."

Anita looked up at him, giving him a weak smile. "I know you would have."

"What about your brother and sister?"

"Harold has taken on more responsibility at the winery now, especially since our father suffered a heart attack this past Christmas," Anita explained. "You can imagine how my father took the news about not being able to work under such stressful conditions."

Ethan frowned, unable to believe how much he had missed in three years. She had been through so much, and he felt guilty that he hadn't been there to help her through everything.

"As for Marla . . ." A smile broke out across Anita's face. "Well, you know Marla. She is nothing if not determined. Last I spoke with her, she had actually graduated from the academy. She wants to be just like her big sister, I guess. Save lives, stop the bad guys. I'm just hoping she doesn't get herself into any trouble."

"From what I remember, Marla takes after you in more ways than one," Ethan said fondly as he remembered the young girl he had met all those years ago. "She has your ambition, your determination, your passion, your strength. I know she's capable of anything she sets her mind to."

"I'm more worried about her recklessness," Anita admitted. "Marla hasn't always been the most careful person. She's made some stupid mistakes in her life. Granted, she was a teenager at the time she made them, but still. She's going to give me gray hairs, I swear."

Ethan reassuringly brushed his thumb over her knuckles. "She'll be okay."

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

Anita immediately withdrew her neatly wrapped hand from Ethan's as they both turned to face the doorway where Agent John Musgrave was standing and looking at them. The man cleared his throat before speaking.

"Uh, the meeting is about to begin," he informed them.

"We're on our way," Anita told him.

John nodded and then turned to leave, knowing they could find their own way and he didn't have to wait up for them.

Once he was gone, Anita turned to face her former partner with a grim expression. "You ready for this?"

"No," Ethan said honestly. "But I have to be. Part of the job, right?"

"Right," Anita frowned. She then offered him a small smile, hoping it would bring him some amount of comfort as he grieved for his former protégé, before they simultaneously stood up from the table and started making their way toward the room where the meeting would be held.

When they had arrived, they found not only Director Theodore Brassel and Agent John Musgrave sitting at the table, but a few other employees from the IMF as well, all of whom had clearance to sit in on mission reports and to take notes throughout the meeting, as well as provide any necessary information should they be asked to.

"Mr. Hunt . . . Miss Levine," Brassel greeted in a rough voice, obviously not pleased with how their mission had gone. "So glad you both could join us. Shall we begin?"

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison.

Ethan pulled out a chair and sat down beside John at the table, Anita taking the empty seat on the other side of Ethan so that he was in the middle of both her and Agent Musgrave. She leaned forward in her chair, folding her hands out in front of her as she stared across the table at Director Brassel, waiting for the man to speak.

"I read your training brief on Agent Farris," Brassel began as he looked down at the file in front of him. "The words you used were 'beyond capable.' That still stand, Mr. Hunt?"

"Mr. Brassel . . ."

"Does it stand?" Brassel asked a little more fiercely, silencing Hunt when he didn't get a straightforward answer from the man.

"Yes, sir, it does," Ethan replied.

"Because we've got a corpse downstairs that says otherwise," Brassel said, glancing down at the autopsy report in front of him. "Killed by a detonator implanted in her skull through the nasal cavity."

"Mr. Brassel," Ethan spoke up again, "it's unacceptable to judge Agent Farris' competence based . . ."

"It's unacceptable that chocolate makes you fat, but I've eaten my share," Brassel retorted. "And guess what?" He shrugged. "Now, I approved Agent Farris' surveillance op based on your evaluations, Mr. Hunt, of a woman who allowed herself to be captured."

Anita felt her blood begin to boil at his words. She couldn't believe that Brassel was blaming Lindsey for incompetence in the field. While she didn't know the women, Anita trusted Ethan's judgment. If he had cleared the woman for the field then she was obviously capable of handing herself. But what was a woman of her size supposed to do when she was ambushed by several men twice her size? Take on all of Davian's men by herself? Even Anita knew that she would have a hard time taking on all of those men on her own and without a weapon — no matter how good she was.

"So you go to recover her," Brassel continued. "You and Miss Levine encounter a dozen men. You don't grab any of them?"

Anita glanced beside her, watching as Ethan's jaw twitched. He was silent for a moment before he finally leaned forward in his chair and responded.

"Our objective, Mr. Brassel," Ethan said, "was to recover Agent Farris. Davian employs a cellular structure at his organization. The men there more than likely had no information—"

"Who's drawing these conclusions?" Brassel interrupted. "Is it you? Is it Miss Levine? Tell me, I want to know."

"I am, sir," Musgrave cut in. He glanced down at the files laid out in front of him. "Based upon—"

"I'm not on you yet," Brassel cut him off with a stern expression, causing Musgrave to grow silent once more. He then turned his attention not toward Agent Hunt, but to the woman sitting beside him. "Miss Levine," he began. "I understand that you were chosen for this mission because of your history with rescue operations?"

Anita nodded her head. "Yes, sir, that's correct. Agent Musgrave believed that I would be a valuable asset to the team."

"Eleven previous rescue operations," Brassel read out loud as his dark eyes skimmed over what Anita could only assume was her own file. "Very impressive work, Miss Levine. I can see why you were chosen for this mission. However, I have to ask, why is it that you would disgrace such a perfect record by allowing Agent Farris to board the chopper without a proper scan first?"

"Sir, if I may," Ethan began, quickly coming to her defense.

"I didn't ask you, Mr. Hunt," Brassel interrupted, looking at the man with irritation evident in his tone. He then turned his attention back to Anita. "Miss Levine, please answer the question."

"Agent Farris wasn't showing any signs of distress until we reached the helicopter," Anita answered honestly.

"And you believed you didn't have the time to scan her before allowing her on board?" Brassel interrogated. "I find that shocking, given your successes in the past. Surely, you must have known what the protocol was when Agent Farris began showing these blatant signs of distress."

Anita swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "Yes, sir, I do. But the thought hadn't crossed my mind. My only concerns had been getting Agent Farris on board. We needed to evac immediately." She looked down for a brief moment before meeting her superior's gaze again. "I recognize my mistakes now though, sir, and I take responsibility for my wrongful actions. It won't happen again."

"No, it will not," Brassel said sternly. "You will follow protocols, Miss Levine, or you will find your ass sitting at a desk until I saw otherwise. That explosive device could have taken you all out." He glanced between Levine and Hunt with disappointment. "There is one reason that you are both sitting here before me today, and that is luck. Because your operation was poorly conceived and executed worse."

"Two laptops were recovered . . ." Musgrave informed.

"I'm aware of that," Brassel said. "We've talked to Tech Services. They doubt if they can reconstitute the drives. 'Crispy,' I believe, is what they called them. Worthless."

Anita briefly closed her eyes at the news. Agent Farris was dead. The disks they managed to recover were worthless. Their mission had been for nothing. A complete and total failure.

"Mr. Brassel, as Operation Manager of this office, I have the authority . . ."

"Excuse me. Did you just throw a title at me, Mr. Musgrave?" Brassel questioned. He shook his head in disbelief as he stared at the man. "I don't care if your daddy plays golf with the President. This is Intelligence. So far I haven't seen any. You think this op was worth the risk?" He gathered some files and walked around the table until he was standing directly in front of Agents Hunt and Levine. "What do you know about Owen Davian?"

"Not much, sir," Anita responded. And she hadn't lied. Aside from what little information Musgrave had given her when he first briefed her on the mission, she was completely unaware of who Owen Davian was and what the man was capable of doing.

Brassel immediately began throwing files down in front of them, creating a stack of manila folders that was yet another reminder of their failure. "He was the one who brought gas centrifuge technology to Korea from Pakistan. He was also the man who sold Toxin Five to the Armahad Republic Jihad. He is a man who provides, provides, provides! And he remains invisible. He's a goddamn invisible man."

Anita looked down at the files with a clenched jaw. She was disappointed in herself for allowing Owen Davian to slip through her fingers. For not bringing something back from the mission that could have helped them find the so-called invisible man.

"Wells, not Ellison, in case you want to be cute again," Brassel said sarcastically, such words directed toward John Musgrave. He looked between the three of them as he continued, "We can't find him. He knows it. It's emboldened him. I've been trying to bring Davian down since the day that I got here. Do you know what I've got for it?"

"It's never been confirmed the Toxin Five theft was Davian," Musgrave voiced.

"Mr. Musgrave, please don't interrupt me when I'm asking rhetorical questions," Brassel said, eyeing the man for a brief moment before glancing at the two agents sitting before him again. "Your operation has achieved one thing. You have reminded Davian that he is winning. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go inform Mr. and Mrs. Farris that their baby girl was killed in a head-on collision on I-95."

a/n: the way these two always take responsibility for what happens bc it's just who they are 🥺 makes me just wanna wrap them in a hug and remind them know how much they are loved and that they aren't alone in their guilt and suffering

also, ethan having noticed the way she was favoring her wrist and mending it for her during their little heart-to-heart moment in the breakroom? my heart can't handle them 😩 aside from that, you also got your first sneak peek at anita's family, who will be both mentioned and featured throughtout this story! i honestly love the fact that ethan has met the levine fam in the past bc it goes to show just how much anita really trusted him when they were still working together

oh, and marla following in her big sister's footsteps?? MAYHAPS there is something more there that will be explored later on 👀 tbh if you have any theories about marla or any guesses about why harold had called, i would love to hear them!! i'm always so curious to hear your thoughts and see if anyone guesses correctly