Chapter Four

Transference Is Blind

"Have you called him yet, tracked him down?"

Rios scrubbed at the semi-dry, un-naturally hued yellowy, orange macaroni and cheese residue clinging stubbornly to the Ecru colored dinner plate that he was washing and shrugged his huge shoulders. His father's question irritated him. Besides feeling that it was none of the man's damned business, he also felt a bit guilty for not making the call in question. When his son remained silent, Gus Rios prodded him again.

"It's been a two and a half weeks, Tyson. Aren't you worried? Nala says he's never gone missing like this without checking in. He left out of here with nothing, after all."

"He has his wallet. He can buy stuff." He grumbled.

"Has he?"

Rios sighed and handed the now sparkling plate to the older man and picked up the matching gravy boat.

"Has he what?"

"Bought anything. Nala says that you checked his accounts and…"

"Then, dad, you know that he hasn't. She talks too damn fucking much, that kid." He spat out, flinching when he slipped in his scrubbing and the bowl splashed dirty water along the back board of the sink and up into his scowling face. "God damn it!"

"Tyson, a couple of days, I could understand, but this is…the man is missing. Doesn't anyone at work wonder where he is?"

"Sure, they figure, like I do, that he's just fucking up again. That…"

"Again! But this is not normal, Tyson, even for him. So many years and you just…"

"I just what! Finally, say good riddance. What about me, dad? He doesn't seem to care that this is hard for me does he, just disappearing. Here, this one's done."

"Not for nothing, son, but you were out of line. That is, if what Nala told me is true. I understand your need to know, but you should have handled it differently."

Rios snatched another macaroni clad plate from the light gray granite apron sink, and stuck it under the hot water. They hadn't allowed the dishes to sit for very long after supper, but even in that short period of time the cheesy food had adhered itself to them quite stubbornly. Salem was like that, Rios thought, stuck and stubborn.. According to Dorrie and SSC's psychologist, Salem's bond with Rios had formed in a matter of minutes. His problem was that he couldn't just soak the troublesome younger man in hot sudsy water and flush him down the drain. The drain, maybe this was finally the end, or the beginning of the end. Their relationship had always spiraled the drain, so maybe this time it would actually slip away in a gray gurgling murk of bad blood.

"Like I said, she talks too much."

Gus reached out and turned the water off, leaving Rios with the soapy plate un-rinsed. He leaned against the counter edge, on his palms, arms spread wide, closed his eyes and tried to compose his thoughts. He was angry with his son. Tyson's behavior was juvenile and dangerous. A man was missing and quite probably in danger. Gus liked Elliot and if, as he'd told Tyson, what Nala reported was indeed true, then Elliot was probably an emotional wreck.

"Look son…"

"Don't son me, Gus."

"Look Tyson, I can understand if you want to, need to end your relationship with him, but do you really want his getting hurt, or lying somewhere hurt and alone, or God forbid dying, on your heart, your conscience. Think about it. Think about Nala. She cries herself to sleep with worry." Then after slapping the faucet handle upward and turning the water back on, "Rinse that plate, you've washed it three times already."

Later that night, after tucking a very reluctant, very belligerent Nala into bed, Rios sat staring at a computer screen displaying Elliot's bank accounts. He knew that Salem often carried several hundred dollars in cash, but by now he should have hit up his accounts or credit cards for funds. His father, although irritating, was right. Nala too was driving him crazy. They'd argued and she'd staunchly refused to go to bed unless Tyson tried calling her uncle. The girl had gone as far as to threaten to run away to find him. Sighing and sipping his drink, he recalled the argument.

"I'm going to Giddy's! Giddy will look for him. He cares even though the rest of you hate him."

"I don't, we don't hate him, Peach. We…"

"I am not your Peach until you find him, Rios!"

"Rios?"

"This is not a daddy, daughter matter! Either you try to find my Dragon One, or I will."

"He needs to grow up and learn to manage his emotions, Nala." He spat angrily, finally fed up with her dis-respectful attitude, "He can't just keep doing out of control stuff like disappearing. He has a job, responsibilities, a contract, people who depend on…"

"He depends on you and you fucked him, Rios. He never, he wouldn't ever fuck mom and you know it. How could you daddy, how could you even think for even a tiny second that he'd betray you like that? Get out. Just get out! I wish he was my daddy. I love him and that's more than I can say about your fat ass right now. Get out!"

Chastised, Rios stepped away from her bed, as she rolled onto her left side facing away from him with the stuffed dragon, representing Salem, clutched beneath her right arm. When he turned, his mother was standing in the bedroom door, a look of utter shock upon her face. He strode toward her and the diminutive woman stepped aside as his bulk filled the door's frame.

"Not a word mom, not a word. I'll be in my office."

Now, he was there, ensconced in his office, staring at Salem's accounts. A phone call, his father made it sound so simple. Rios was certain that Elliot wouldn't answer his own cell. All the calls from the team had gone unanswered. He knew that he wasn't at home and had not gone home before disappearing. That much, at least, he'd done, at Murray's bidding, three days after the argument. His visit to the dreary place showed that nothing in the un-tidy apartment had been touched. The man had vanished with nothing more than what he was wearing and his wallet and keys taken from Tyson's foyer table. Then, Rios pondered, the argument? It hadn't been that really, an argument. An off handed accusation, yes, but argument….Tyson sighed worriedly when he recalled that Elliot hadn't actually argued with him over it, which was again completely out of character for the hot tempered man. So, who to call? Before he could make a decision his cell phone rang.

"Rios."

"You hear from him yet?"

"Negative Giddy, sitting here now trying to come up with a plan."

"A plan? How about telling me what the fuck happened, Rios?"

"Negative. I'll deal with it. Just gimme a few hours. I'll find him."

"We mobilize in four days. If he's still MIA, we'll have to adjust our plans, drastically adjust them. We need a balls on sniper, Rios We need Fifty! Murray's spinning out on me and Dalton's ready to fire his dumb ass, contract be damned. You better fucking find him."

The line went dead and Rios re-filled his glass with two fingers of Shieldaig Speyside eighteen year old, single malt, studied it briefly, made it three, picked the phone back up and opened his contacts menu. His choices were few and after taking a sip of the smoky flavored malt whiskey, he punched the worst in. It rang seven times before switching to voice mail. Rios closed his eyes, squeezed the bridge of his scarred nose and listened to the message, first in Russian and then, in English. Even hearing the man's voice on the shoddy recording irked him, 'You have reached Vasily Tyannikov. Out of country. Six months. Leave message.'

"Six months, six fucking months from when, you fucking stupid, violent, Russian piece of shit. From when, to when? Fuck."

One down, he thought a bit sadly, and none really left to call. It struck home for him just how isolated and alone Elliot was outside of the team. He called three more possible people and then, finally, Gabe.

"Benedict."

"Hey Bene, it's Rios."

Gabe switched the phone to his right ear, stood and walked away from the table where the group was sitting around playing poker. He took a quick look over his shoulder and was glad to see that Elliot had taken little notice of the call. He was too intent upon losing his money to Harry.

"Hello Tyson, what can I do for you? Everything ok, family's doing well."

"Yea, ah, they're all good. Look, Elliot's missing in action. You haven't seen him, heard from him, anything like that. It's been a while."

A while Gabe thought, just over two weeks and the bastard was just now getting round to looking. He tamped his anger down and held his voice steady.

"Nope, can't say that we have. Why, problems?"

"No, maybe, there was, we had, well he took off after our last op and it's not like him."

"No, well, what happened?"

"Not important. I just need to get him home. We're mobile again in a few days so…"

"Must have been important to him, no?"

"Guess so. Look, I gotta run. Just call me if he shows. Oh, and Odie, Gabe, I don't have a contact for him, but if you do, check with him for me. Who knows, the little bitch is so far to ground this time I don't have a clue. Rios out."

With no one left to contact, Rios called it a night, locked up his office and shuffled off to bed.

Nala awoke with a start, the dream plaguing her slipping away, leaving only the slightest tendril of memory behind. She'd been running, running away from the baddies with Elliot in tow. They'd wounded him badly and she was nearly out of ammo. She'd been screaming into her mic for back up, but none of the team would respond and they were desperately close the enemies slaughtering them. She lay very still, on her back in her small bed, struggling to get her breathing under control the way Salem had instructed her, while staring up at the slowly whirling ceiling fan. She imagined that it was the rotors of a chopper finally coming in to exfil them. She set the stuffed dragon on her chest and held it tightly.

"Just hold on to me tight, and I'll get us up there, Dragon One. It will all be over and you and me will be home soon. You'll be safe again."

After a bit she set the toy carefully aside and slipped from beneath the warm blankets. A check of her watch showed it to be 0215 hours. Everyone, she thought, should be in bed. Even her mother should be home and asleep after her 'girls' night out.'

"I'm done waiting. Time for action." She whispered to the patient dragon.

Twenty minutes later she was standing in the kitchen, dressed in her black mission gear, slipping the house land line hand set out of its cradle. She read a number off of a tiny slip of paper, dialed it, and then swallowed the scrap. After four rings, the answering machine picked up and Tyannikov's voice crackled in Russian, addressing her directly, saying that he was out of contact, and to try again. She left a concise message, and hung up cursing her luck.

Sighing, she dialed a second number from the phone's memory. After four chirp-like rings someone answered.

"Benedict's"

She froze. The gravelly voice was un-familiar.

"Hello?" it pressed.

"Is Gabe home please?"

Harry pulled the receiver away from his ear and studied it, as if he might actually be able to see the caller. It was late and he found it strange that a young girl would be calling for Gabe at that hour.

"Ah, he's in bed. Can I maybe help? I'm Harry. Who is this? It's late."

"I apologize, Harry. I just need to talk to Gabe. I know that it's late, but I'm on an op and late's just, well I can't help it being late. It's early some fucking where, right Harry. So, can you get Gabe up on comms? Can you do that, Harry?"

Harry frowned and considered her request. Comms, op, fucking and the way she said Harry; it was all a bit too military. Who the hell was this kid? Her tone was too assertive and it actually un-nerved him, compelled him to comply. Then, it hit him. It was Rios' kid, the one called And-A-Half. Salem, after drinking a considerable amount of beer several nights ago, had chattered on endlessly about her and the ops they ran and how he was training her up to be an operator, and how she was un-cannily good at mimicking how they spoke during ops. She was like a talking bird, he'd boasted. Harry bit his tongue. He couldn't acknowledge the girl just yet. Gabe promised Elliot a safe refuge until he chose to re-appear and admitting to knowing who she was, without an introduction, might give the man up.

"Well, like I said, I'm Harry, and I need an I.D. to give Gabe, along with your message, copy?"

There was a pause while she considered his demand.

"Copy that, Harry. This is And-A-Half, and I need his ear, post haste."

Harry grinned. The simple copy that had reeled her in. He could sense from the tone of her voice that she'd begun to trust him.

"Post haste, And-A-Half., sure, hold for five mikes."

"I copy your last, Harry, hold for five mikes."

Harry set the phone down on the end table, shook his head in disbelief and made for Gabe's bedroom. He knocked on the door and waited.

"Yea?"

"Hey, Top. I got an And-A-Half up on comms well, on the phone, she says it's urgent. Needs to talk to you post haste."

"Shit! On my way."

The door opened up and Gabe appeared rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Post haste? She said that, post haste. Fuck me, Fifty wasn't kidding was he."

"Nope, she was spot on. Had me hoppin' to comply."

The duo returned to the study and the old soldier picked up the phone.

"Hey kiddo, what can I do you for?"

"My Dragon One's MIA and nobody cares. I don't know what else to do. He's nowhere, Gabe, nowhere, and daddy's mad and Murray's mad and gonna fire him and, is he with you? Tell me he's with you."

Gabe furrowed his brow. This was an un-expected twist. She was putting up a brave front, but he could sense her desperation. Nala, he knew, was a very smart, gifted, adept child and he was afraid that, if he mismanaged her, the situation would spiral further out of control. Still, he'd promised Elliot a safe haven and he'd keep his word. It would break his heart to lie to her, but for now that was his only recourse.

"No Nala, he's not. He's not here, but if I hear from him I'll call you. Why did he leave?"

"Daddy, Rios, he said mean things. Same as always. I don't have time to explain, I have to keep looking, keep moving. No one has his six out there. Will you look too? Put a BOLO out up on your end."

"Sure, I have some folks I can call, folks he doesn't usually see, but might go to. You just hold your twenty and…"

"Kostay, well Vasily's out of country, so scratch him. Say again, hold…I didn't copy your last, hold… hold what, Gabe? Gabe…Thanks, And-A-Half out."

"Nala, Nala, damn it she hung up. I know that she fucking heard me. Fuck…if I had a buck for every time Fifty did that shit to me…fuck!"

"Quite the kid."

"Harry you do not know the half of it. I wonder if I should call that fat fucker and let him know Nala's looking for Salem?"

"I wouldn't, hell what's she gonna do, make a few more late night phone calls. Leave it until morning, Top and see what Elliot wants to do."

"Yea, you're probably right. Rios' place is in the middle of nowhere. Where could she go? How could she go? See you in the morning."

Nala hung up the phone after erasing the call history and plodded back to her room. Her next step was Giddy, but she wasn't going to just call him. Elliot had taught her that meetings always went better face to face. It was an eighteen klick stage to the nearest bus stop, and then she'd need to hop the metro south. After that, ride a city bus to just outside of his neighborhood, before hoofing it again for another three klicks. No sense in prolonging the inevitable, she figured, and thirty minutes later, after breaking into Rios' gun safe and arming herself with his Sig Sauer 1911 Tac Ops pistol, two clips and her Randall fighting stiletto, she'd disabled the lights and reflectors on her black GT Zaskar mountain bike and was peddling out of Rios' subdivision, headed for Giddy.

"Nala, time to get up, sweetie. Nala?" Rios' mother, Bea, called into the girl's bedroom door. "Nala, breakfast."

When she received no reply, Bea stepped into the darkened room and turned on the overhead light. The bed was neatly made, and the girl's precisely pressed school uniform remained set out on a chair. The confused woman crossed to the clothing, brushed her right finger tips along the neatly pleated khaki slacks and turned round surveying the room. She'd already been in the kitchen and had not seen the child. She supposed that maybe she might be out with the dog, or in the garage, but both scenarios were very out of character. The morning routine was always strictly adhered to. Rios had already gone to SSC headquarters and Samantha to work, meaning that the child was not with either parent. She returned to the kitchen, looking for Nala along the way, even knocking on Rios' locked office door, and poking her head into the garage. Gus was sitting at the breakfast bar when she arrived.

"What were you thinking, Bea? You were burning the bacon."

"Oh, sorry. Did you rescue it? I got held up. Nala, have you seen her? She's not in her room, and her school clothes are still there. Hasn't used her bathroom either, the sink's dry. Last night she threatened to run away and find Elliot. Oh my God, Gus what if she has!"

Gus sipped his coffee and set it aside. He couldn't believe that the girl would behave so foolishly.

"I know, you told me, but just getting out of this neighborhood is a hike and then, well I can't see her actually trying it. Giddy's place is damn near thirty miles from here, by foot, train, bus and I guess foot again. Calm down Bea, she's fine, I'm sure. I'll search out back and you, well shut this food off and go through the house again. Be thorough, Bea."

Twenty minutes later they, re-grouped in the kitchen, and Gus' first words shattered Bea's heart.

"Her bicycle's gone. I'll call Tyson."