The watching man shifted position slightly, made a note in the journal he carried, then returned to holding his silver pen between his fingers like a cigarette. The priest's handsome wife had not yet arrived for work, an unusual deviation from her generally predictable schedule. Troubling, but any number of factors may have contributed, over which there could be no control. He would have to be prepared for such contingencies when the time came to act.
He mentally went over his plan, testing for any potential chinks that could be attacked by circumstances. He would distract the son, keeping Peter out of the loop, too busy to combine forces with his father. Since neither of the two would be in any danger, their famed connection would not alert them until too late.
He rolled the pen, watching the morning sunlight reflect from its metallic surface. The wife, on the other hand, would be the cornerstone of the operation. The family would never expect such an indirect attack, and yet she was the most vulnerable of the three. The priest would risk anything to save her, would sacrifice everything for her sake, and he would do so voluntarily.
Gregor made another entry in the journal as he saw Peter leave the 101st and drive off, presumably to tackle his latest assignment. The boy liked to keep busy, a trait that played right into his hands.
He tapped the pen against the scar on his chin. Don't worry, Mr. C. The memory of the twin photographs on his employer's desk floated to the surface of his mind, symbols of the lengths the crime lord would go to insure success. One held the face of an attractive young woman, smiling playfully at the person holding the camera, while the other showed her brother in a crisp military uniform.
Both of them, Gregor knew, were now dead.
I will not fail.
"There!" she announced, patting her handiwork before rising from his lap. "Now you're presentable."
He was reminded anew why he loved her. She was more beautiful now than when they had met, and her spirit burned more brightly every day. She filled a part of him that had been empty far too long.
This morning her emotions practically glowed, and he couldn't help smiling proudly in response. He couldn't imagine how he missed detecting her pregnancy; he could only assume it was because that had been the farthest thing from his mind--and perhaps she had confused his senses with her own uncertainty. He had found that, despite their growing closeness and his ability to read her feelings, she still managed constantly to surprise him.
And what a surprise! With a twinkle in her eyes, she had upturned his entire universe. He wanted to take her into his arms and tell her, over and over, how much he loved her, until the earth itself sang out the words. The only thing preventing him was the knowledge that it would keep her from her appointed duty.
Speaking of which... "Are you not late for work?" he inquired as she ran a brush through her hair while searching for something to eat for breakfast.
"This is a special occasion. Let 'em stew for a few minutes. I'll tell them I overslept after that stakeout last night. Where did you put the--?"
He stood and handed her the basket of oranges she sought. "Thanks, hon," she responded, giving him a peck on the cheek without missing a beat.
"You will not tell them the truth?" he asked, returning to the original thread of conversation. "They are your friends. Will they not be happy for you?"
"Oh, I'll tell them eventually, but you know how it is...they would treat me differently. I don't need that right now."
"Ah." He could see her point of view, though it was not the course of action he would have taken under the circumstances. He understood the necessity of keeping secrets when the stakes were high--he had done so himself. Perhaps, to her, the stakes were high. "And Peter?"
"Peter." She sat down with a sigh, holding a bowl of granola. "This is going to be tricky."
Tricky. He went over in his mind the various Caine lineage woes his son had experienced and how this new chapter might affect him. "Tricky" did not even begin to describe the situation.
"We should let him know as soon as possible," she continued. "Today would be best. We're his family--he deserves to be the first to hear." She waited for her husband to nod his agreement before she went on. "Though it's fun to tease him, this is a serious step in our lives." She put down her spoon and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "As long as you've been around, he's held a special place as your child. Now he's going to have to share that place."
"Peter will always have my love," he insisted. "That did not change when I married you, and it will not change with the birth of this baby."
"I know that, and you know that, and he probably will too, when he thinks about it. What he feels, however... I just want to be sure he's comfortable with this." She picked up her spoon again and dug into her breakfast.
"Then you believe we should tell him this evening...after work?"
"Actually, I think I should be the one to tell him. Alone," she clarified. At his questioning glance, she explained her reasoning. "This is a great deal to spring on him. I don't want to be overwhelming. With both of us there, it may seem that we're ganging up on him--putting him under a microscope. Hopefully with me he can be relaxed, not have to worry about how you will judge his reactions."
He considered her argument. "And if he needs to talk?"
"He knows how to find you. After all..." She leaned forward. "...You're not going anywhere."
He met her halfway, planting a kiss on her forehead. "No. I am not."
"Kwai Chang Caine!" she admonished, pushing her bowl aside and beckoning him closer. "You can do better than that."
And, indeed, he could.