Authors' Notes: Portions of dialogue from the Season 2 episode "Sedition" were used in this story, though I think we've managed to give it our own spin and fill in some missing components. Credit for some dialogue goes to Carol Barbee, Matthew Federman, and Stephen Scaia.
Disclaimer: Neither my co-writer nor myself own Jericho. We are merely exercising our writing muscles. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors. The authors are in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Part Three
Heather Lisinski felt alone in the crowded room.
She had heard the saying before, understood it, but never experienced it. Not until New Bern. Now that feeling of solitude was her constant companion all over again. As she looked around the open office filled with Beck's soldiers, each completing a task, she tried to turn her attention to her own work.
When she agreed to be a liaison for the military, she did so thinking she would be able to bridge the gap between the military's wants and the town's needs. Now she felt pulled in both directions, belonging nowhere. The dissolution of her friendship with Emily, the disagreement she'd had with Beck—both were painfully indicative of her life.
Yes, alone in a crowded room.
Her thoughts fell on the Rangers hiding out in the warehouse. Emily had been disgusted with her. Stanley had been lost in his own memories and grief. Eric had seemed so certain that they would get Jake back, but the more time that passed, the more Heather began to doubt that. Would he be shipped off to Loomis Ridge the way Dale Turner almost was? She had honestly thought she could reach Beck, but she was pushing aside that notion as foolishness. Just because the two had a rapport, that didn't mean Edward Beck would put himself on the line for their town, especially not when it interfered with his duty. Jake had tried to tell her as much not long ago.
Jake.
She felt a lump form in her throat, and she tried to push it away. She wouldn't be any help to him if she didn't keep it together. Her tears wouldn't help him now.
But the thought of him out there somewhere, a prisoner, tore at her. As usual, her imagination painted a picture she'd rather not see. Was he bound? Were they giving him food? Water? Did he know what they were doing to the town? She had heard of some of the tactics they used on the New Bern resistance members, but that had not hit home then. After learning a bounty had been placed on her head, she had been less than sympathetic. But now? She wished she had listened more, asked more questions.
Jake.
What could she do for him? How could she help him if she didn't even know where he was? No one was talking. Each time she tried to ask questions of Beck's men, she would get a friendly but firm, "I can't tell you about that, Ms. Lisinski." Could she walk back into Beck's office and agree to go to Jake under the guise of convincing him to give up the Rangers? At least she would be able to see him, know how he was doing. She didn't actually have to do what the major asked of her…
Jake.
The thought of him suffering…
She swallowed hard. Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together. Stay focused.
But it was difficult to stay focused when she kept seeing the black hood pulled over his head, as though he were a criminal on his way to an execution. Or when the last time they'd really spoken, she'd been so angry with him.
Heather's eyes fell upon the small table that housed the coffee pot. She remembered the day about two weeks ago when she had stood at that table, pouring herself a cup of coffee after retrieving the page of data from the aerial radiation survey report in Beck's office. That day, she felt as though she would come apart at the seams. Jake had praised her to Mr. Hawkins, saying that he knew she would want to help expose the new government.
But Heather hadn't done it for the greater good.
She had done it for Jake.
Even still, she simply could not equate Edward Beck with the corruption, and she had felt sick over the thought of betraying his trust. Beck had even defended her when one of his men accused her of accessing classified material. And when it was all done, and Beck apologized for the man, Heather left his office and stood at that table pouring herself a cup of coffee. A damn cup of coffee.
Jake had casually strolled over to the table, standing next to her, giving the appearance that he was waiting to pour himself a cup.
"I'm done," Heather said.
To the casual observer, it might have appeared that she was indicating she was done with the coffee pot or the beet sugar they had managed to gather to sweeten the bitter coffee. But she looked at him, and he at her, and the look of understanding that passed between them delivered a far different message, and it had nothing to do with coffee.
She had the paper. Hawkins and the package were safe. For now.
Her hands shook as she reached for a spoon to stir her drink. Jake reached down, steadying them. His hands were warm. Hers were cold. "You okay?" His voice was low.
Betrayal of trust? All in a day's work, she thought bitterly. "Sure."
With that, she brushed past him.
She was shaken.
She was spent.
She was angry.
Even in retrospect, she could not entirely pinpoint why she had been so livid.
Was it the betrayal of someone who trusted her? Truth be told, Major Beck had been one of the few bright spots in her life since returning from New Bern and discovering that nothing was as she'd left it. He valued her input, didn't treat her as fragile or suspicious for having been in New Bern, and on more than one occasion, went to bat for her.
Was it the fact that just when she thought things were looking up for them in town, she discovered the government that was supposed to be bringing order to their country was nothing but a fraud? They were sitting on a powder keg, and someone had just lit a match.
Or was it the fact that Jake still had such a hold on her? Anything he asked, she would have done for him. He made her feel weak. He made her feel strong. Most of all, he made her feel.
After encountering Jake, she returned to her desk, gathered a few files, and headed to the lobby to take the stairs to the basement. The archive room would provide some much needed cover. When she made her way there, her key opened the locked door, allowing her access to the room. She turned on the light and propped open the door.
The archives room smelled old and was filled with metal shelves in rows, each one weighted down with boxes of items. Over the previous weeks, she had spent some time down there categorizing items taken from what had been empty offices prior to the Army moving in. She had certainly gotten to know her way around the place.
So when she heard footsteps, she was surprised. No one ever came down to the archives. She turned to look at the new arrival, though even if she hadn't, she was fairly certain she would have known who it was. "What are you doing down here?"
Jake closed the door behind him. "I was worried about you."
"Don't," Heather replied pulling a box from the shelf and placing some papers inside. She returned it to the shelf and moved to the next box, refusing to meet Jake's eyes. "I'm going to keep it together like I always do. I won't go blabbing to Beck." Realizing it wasn't the correct box, she shoved it back onto the shelf, turned to move on down the line, and nearly ran into him. Jake stood in her path, and Heather realized he wasn't going away. Not unless she made him. "Look, I didn't survive New Bern only to come back here and get executed for treason."
"That's not what I meant. I'm worried about you." He reached out, placing his hands on her shoulders.
His hands were warm. So warm. She wanted to melt under his heat, to be pulled to him. She needed—no, it wasn't going to happen. Not ever. No matter how many looks or unspoken what-if's. She shrugged away his touch. "Jake, I'm not a problem that needs fixing. Even if I were, that's not your job." Her tone was sharp.
"My job? Heather, do you really think I see you as problem to solve?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Why are you so angry?"
Why indeed? "I'm not." But her tone was still terse as she pushed past him and moved to another section of the room, carrying a file folder to be stored.
"If you say so." His own impatience was beginning to show through, but he followed. "Heather—"
She didn't want to meet his gaze –not really—because when she looked at him, everything seemed to get so much more complicated, and her life was complicated enough. But there he was again. Standing so near her, and she couldn't resist. "Maybe all this cloak and dagger stuff is fun for you, but I'm not a spy. I don't even like spy movies! And what I did today…"
"Probably saved a hell of a lot of lives," he said bluntly.
"And I would do it again. But do you know he defended me?" Her hand splayed across her chest. "I lied to his face, Jake, and he defended me."
"You did the right thing, and Beck's not on board with that."
"Do you hear yourself? Beck is one of the best men I've ever know. He's honorable…and, and…kind."
Jake sucked in a breath. "You're in love with him."
She shook her head. "He's married." Her argument sounded weak as she said it. She wouldn't be the first woman to fall for a married man, but it wasn't as simple as that. "I respect him. He's straightforward. What you see if what you get."
"He's blindly following orders from a rogue government. Don't talk yourself into thinking it doesn't matter. Rather than asking questions, he's taking the easy way out."
"You want to talk about the easy way out? What about you?" she asked, her hand extended outward, palm up.
Jake's eyes flashed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Heather wanted to shrink. If only she could. Jake had no obligation to her. They weren't in a relationship when she left for New Bern. And could she really blame him for not being ready to be with her when everything was so unsettled? It wasn't the time or place to be starting something new. She respected that. Was disappointed, but it was okay.
And there was no reason he and Emily shouldn't be together. Whatever issues they'd shared had obviously been worked out. She knew all this logically.
But sometimes when she saw him across the room, it was no longer logical. Reason ceased to exist, and in its place was an endless longing. His looks weren't friendly; they were intense. And when they spoke, he always seemed to be on the cusp of…of something.
And still he wouldn't acknowledge it. So, yes, she did figure he'd taken the easy way out, but what good did it do to hash it out? Nothing was going to change. "I don't want to fight with you. Let's drop this."
But he wouldn't let it go. "You brought it up. You think anything in my life is easy?"
She shook her head. "Not really. I don't know anyone here who's done more for this town and its people than you. But I also know that old habits die hard."
"Heather…"And then she thought she saw realization in his eyes. He lifted his hands to reach for her, and then thought better of it. "I'm sorry. About everything."
She nodded. "So am I. But you don't owe me anything."
"Heather." Edward Beck's crisp voice roused Heather from her reverie. "The coffee pot's still there."
She shook off the memory. "I guess I just have a lot on my mind."
The words were innocuous enough, but he knew what she getting at. He didn't want things to be strained between them. He would do his job even when it wasn't easy, even when his decisions were not popular. Conversely, he valued her opinion, her judgment, both as a trusted colleague and as more. "May I speak with you in my office?"
She nodded, and the two entered the glass room in sight of everyone but out of earshot. Heather stood, her hands folded together. Beck leaned against his desk.
"Please know I've thought about what you said."
"I sense a 'but.'"
He heard the disappointment in her voice. What he would've given to hear understanding there instead, but that wasn't Heather Lisinski. She challenged him, made him…God, if only circumstances were different. But still he wanted her understanding. She was the only one who made him feel human anymore. "I need you to understand my position."
Heather swallowed hard. She forced herself to look at his dark eyes. "It doesn't matter what I think. You've made it clear you're going to do what you please."
"'What I please'?" he echoed, standing up and walking behind his desk, his back to her. "This isn't what I want."
"Then put an end to it. I beg you. Before it goes too far."
He spun around. "It's already gone too far! Vigilantism cannot be allowed—"
"And two wrongs don't make a right! I know. Believe me that I know you're in a bad spot. I do. But Major Beck," her voice softened, "you need to step back and look at the bigger picture."
He exhaled loudly, his mask slipping. He was gravitating toward her, could almost touch her, was near desperate to, if for nothing else than to make her know he wasn't a machine. But he remembered himself. "The big picture? That's all I do. I asked Jake for twelve hours. Told him not to do anything stupid, and when I came back John Goetz was strung up outside of New Bern with half his head blown off."
"Same picture. Different perspective."
"How am I supposed to see that? Is it acceptable to you that a man was executed without a trial?"
"He wouldn't be the first," Heather challenged, crossing her arms. "Did Constantino's deputy get a trial?"
Beck chose not to address her last question, instead returning to the matter at hand. "This isn't about pride. What the Rangers and the New Bern resistance did was foolish. Damn foolish. Stringing Goetz up?"
The image in her mind made her shudder. Nevertheless, she found it difficult to muster much sympathy for the man. Her own run-in with him had left little doubt in her mind that he was a sociopath. "Goetz was a horrible man."
"But this wasn't just about Goetz. If it was, why not simply make him disappear? Or fabricate a story about him leaving town? My understanding is that J&R terminated his employment."
Heather swallowed hard. "Are you saying you would've looked the other way?"
"I'm saying that by stringing up his corpse as a calling card, I never had that option!" Beck took a deep breath, centering himself before continuing. "This region has advertised itself as an insurgent hotspot. My superiors have taken note, and contrary to what you might think, the Rangers are fortunate that I'm here to try to restore order. You don't want to see what will happen to this place if my mission is unsuccessful. I'm just the first line, Heather." Beck stopped, realized that he was standing closer than decorum dictated, but remained at her side, in her space.
Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.
Heather felt emotion choking her voice as she opened her mouth to speak. This was senseless. All of it. But there was no turning back. "Ask yourself why these people are so opposed to J&R, to the military, to Cheyenne. These are good people." She paused, looking him square in the eyes, "I still believe you're a good man."
Beck took a step back, but he may as well have built a wall in the process. "I apologize. I should not have burdened you with this further. It's not part of your job description."
"You're right," she replied with a sigh, resigning herself to the knowledge that the window of opportunity was closing. "You want me to tell you it's okay, but it's not."
"You have made it clear how you feel on the matter."
"Is Jake okay?" Heather asked suddenly.
Beck gave a perfected response. "He is in an undisclosed location being held for questioning."
"But is he okay? Will you let me see him?" Heather's words tumbled out in a flurry of desperation. Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.
He had sensed that there was something between Heather and Jake the first day she came back to Jericho. He had watched with keen interest how the two embraced. Yet since then, he had seen little to suggest the closeness he perceived that day. Now he was beginning to rethink his earlier impression. "What?"
"You asked me to go talk to Jake earlier. I've been thinking I should."
Beck shook his head. No, Heather was not the one to make Jake Green see reason. "That request is rescinded." She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued, "If you will please excuse me." He walked to the chair behind his desk and sat.
Wordlessly, she retreated from the office. Heather stood outside the door, momentarily stunned.
Everything was falling apart. Maybe Emily was right. Maybe she had been riding both sides of the fence. Maybe she had been too comfortable.
And maybe Jake had been right, as well. Beck was too devoted to his ideals to question what was right in front of him.
Heather felt a chill run through her.
Jake.
Beck never answered her question. Not fully.
She prayed to God he was okay.
And she went to her desk, keeping her ears open, hoping to hear something that would clue her in to his whereabouts. As she looked around, she realized she was alone in her convictions.
She was alone in a crowded room.