Clayton Webb's Apartment
Alexandria, VA
23:55
The bottle smashed against the brick fireplace, sending shards of glass onto the antique persian rug.
Clayton Webb smiled brittley at the sound, there was just something about the sound of breaking glass that satisfied him right now.
He looked over at the small animal that lay, looking balefully at him from the armchair in the corner.
"What the hell are you looking at? What do expect me to do...bring him back?"
The golden retriever kept staring at him, even as it got down off the chair.
With a skill born of practice it stepped it's way around the glass shards and put it's head on his knee whining softly.
Clay looked down at the dog, still only a puppy, little, fragile...just like Cody.
He didn't want to think about Cody, didn't want to look back, some things were better left unreviewed, un dealt-with.
Better left buried...just like Cody.
He closed his eyes fighting the tide of tears that the memories brought, but experience had taught him that resistance was futile the tears would come anyway.
Through the haze of scotch and tears he glanced at his watch 11.55pm October 15th.
Tomorrow, 5 minutes from now, would be the 2 month anniversary of his son's death and he would commemorate by opening another bottle of single malt scotch and drowning his sorrows.
"Two months" He whispered to himself. "Two freakin months."
Absently stroking the dog's head he thought back to how his life had been changed two months ago.
FLASHBACK 2 MONTHS
August 16th
Gillian Trelane's Apartment
Alexandria VA
09:10
Clayton Webb hurried down the brickpaved walk toward his car, muttering under his breath about the short fuses of 4 year olds.
He was running late for a meeting with Tim Fawkes and he now had Oreo cream on his $2000 suit courtesy of the temper tantrum his son had just thrown after being left with his sitter.
Thank God for Gillian Trelane 'babysitter extraordinare', she had somehow managed to distract Cody long enough for Clay to get out of the house and down the walk.
Clay fished in his pocket for the keys , cursing as he felt one of the keys slip through the lining of his suit tearing a small hole.
'This day could not possibly get any worse.' he murmured as he pulled the keys free of his pocket and unlocked the car.
It was then that the explosion ripped through the building behind him.
The force of the blast slammed him up against the side of the ford taurus like a ragdoll, knocking the air from his lungs and breaking two of his ribs in the process.
The implications of the blast hit him just as hard, and just as fast.
"Cody"
The scream was ripped from his throat as he struggled to his feet and ran towards the rubble that up until a second ago had been Gillian Trelane's apartment block.
The blast had torn the front of the building apart, the tiny first floor apartment Gillian occupied had born the full force of the explosion, it's charming brickwork strewn across the road, it's windows blown from their frames.
People emerged from the surrounding houses, screaming for help and running towards the demolished building.
Clay didn't see or hear the people shouting at him not to go in, the only thing he could think of was that somewhere in there was Cody.
Maybe somehow he had survived the blast...thoughts ran helter skelter through his head...it happened didn't it...kids were resilient, much more so than adults, they often survived disasters.
"Cody"
He yelled out, struggling through the mess of electrical wiring.
Jagged support beams tore at his clothes as he made his way towards where he had last seen his son.
"Cody..its Daddy, can you hear me?" He screamed, unaware of the pain that echoed in his voice, of the helplessness and tragedy that radiated in his expression. "Cody...dammit answer me please..."
As he moved through the darkness and billowing smoke, a small red triangle caught his eye.
A piece of cloth.
Cody had been wearing a red jacket, his favourite one with the train on it.
Clay pushed beams out of his way, unaware of the crumbling ceiling and the leaning walls, aware only that his son needed him.
When Clayton Webb found his son, his tiny body covered in cuts from the flying glass and falling debris, he thought his heart would stop.
A wound on his head seeped blood and his face was deadly pale.
"Cody?" He pushed back the hair from his sons forehead careful not to move him lest he injure him more.
Cody opened his eyes and looked at his father with eyes filled with pain.
"Daddy, I hurt."
He whispered softly, his breathing raspy and shallow, slowing ,even as his father looked on helplessly.
"Shhh, just stay still Cody, I'm here now, just stay still. Help's coming...just hold on."
"Daddy..."
Cody whispered as the life faded from his eyes.
Clayton Webb let out a cry that silenced the world around him.
Cradling his son in his arms, he rocked backwards and forwards murmuring words of comfort to a child that could no longer hear him, even as the wail of sirens filled the air.
August 16th
CIA Headquarters
Langley VA
11:00am
Casey didn't look up as Clay entered the office, engrossed in a file she simply asked.
"How did the meeting with Tim go?"
Clay didn't answer.
When he didn't respond, she looked up from the file at her partner.
He was covered in dried blood, his vest and tie were gone, his white shirt torn, dirt and grime smearing his face.
Casey was out of her chair and across the room in a heartbeat.
"Jesus Christ, Clay what happened? Are you alright?" She put her hands on his shoulders as she spoke.
Clay looked at her, but he found that he couldn't speak around the lump in his throat.
Tears welled in his eyes as he stared silently at Casey.
"Clay you're scaring me, what's happened?"
She asked again.
Clay' lifted his hand to wipe his eyes.
As he did Casey noticed the tiny red hooded jacket he held.
Cody had one just like it with a matching t-shirt, in fact she had dressed Cody in it this morning so he could show Gillian the Thomas The Tank Engine picture on it.
But this couldn't be Cody's jacket, this childs jacket was covered in dirt and what looked like blood stains.
It couldn't be....
"Clay, where's Cody?"
She looked at him,really looked at him.
And in his eyes, filled with tears, she saw more pain than any human being had a right to carry alone.
"There was an explosion Case. I couldn't get to him..."
"No." Her voice was little more than a strangled whisper.
He reached out to her, but she backed away from him.
"No.." She screamed at him "Oh God. Clay no ...you're lying..Cody can't be...no...I just. But I...I just saw him this morning..."
"Someone set a bomb in Gillians apartment. I tried so hard but I couldn't get to him....it was too late...."
"No Clay, please no..."
Casey looked at him with eyes that pleaded for him to take back what he had just told her."He's just a baby."
Clay pulled Casey close to him as she cried helplessly.
"Oh God I'm so sorry Case...."
CIA Director Tim Fawkes watched from the doorway, he had decided to come up and ask Casey if she had heard from Clay.
He now wished that he hadn't.
He had heard every word Clay had said to Casey, had bourne witness to their pain and despair as they faced a scenario every parent lived in fear of.
Clay looked up and saw Tim standing in the doorway.
"If there's anything I can do..." Tim began.
"Can you bring him back?" Clay asked without expression.
Tim shook his head and turned away, walking out the door.
"Tim?" Clay called out.
"Yes Clay?"
"Can you call my mother and AJ? They'll need to know , but I don't think I can..."
His lips moved but he found himself unable to finish.
"Consider it done." Tim said nodding. "For what it's worth Clay, I'm sorry."
Clay nodded.
Later that hour, Tim Fawkes watched Clay help Casey to the car he had organised to take them home.
As they got to the car Clay looked over at him, and for a moment Tim was unable to move.
His eyes deadened by grief, his face a mask of pain and hatred, Clayton Webb simply nodded his goodbye.
This agency, that had once given them both purpose and strength, had just robbed them of their reason for living.