The next week went by in a blur, both of them watching as if from outside themselves, strangely detached from the reality of their situation.
The funeral had been a quiet affair, with only a handful of close friends and family attending.
Clay had held Casey's hand tightly in his as the tiny coffin was lowered into the earth.
He wasn't sure if he was drawing strength from her or trying to give her his strength, but he suspected the former.
Casey had, during the day at least, adopted an air of cool efficiency, an emotionless facade.
Had Clay not heard the heartwrenching sobs echoing down the hall from Cody's room at night, he would have thought she didn't care at all.
Tim had suggested a leave of absence, but Casey had brushed it aside, continuing to hold on the one thing that had remained constant in her life...her work.
Clay had tried to adopt the same attitude, but the rage that ate at him from the inside demanded to be satisfied with revenge. In his heart he knew that Thorpe had been behind Cody's death.
There had been no evidence of course, Thorpe was too clever for that, but it bore his mark.
Once again, an innocent life had been taken in the name of Company business.
Clay remembered staring down at the tiny mound of earth that had covered his son's coffin, and swearing revenge. He didn't know how long he and Casey stood there, still disbelieving, still waiting for the punch line of this cosmic joke they were living.
"He loved you, you know" Clay said quietly to Casey, still staring at the earth.
"I loved him too...I loved you both." Casey said softly, squeezing his hand she took out her sunglasses,turned on her heel and walked away.
Clay turned his head and watched her leave.
On a grassy knoll some distance away, a man with a camera snapped pictures of the tragic scene and smiled to himself.
His boss was going to love these pictures.
October 14th
Clayton Webb's Residence
Alexandria, VA
"...Don't you feel anything, Christ? I've met some cold hearted bitches in my time, but you take the cake Case."
Clayton webb took another swallow of the scotch he held in his hand and leaned heavily against the kitchen counter.
"Do you have anything constructive to say Clayton?" Casey said, her eyes dead. "Like maybe...'I'm going to go back to work to try and find out who killed Cody tomorrow Casey'?"
Clayton looked at her, his mind clouded by scotch. He had listened to himself raging at Casey for not feeling anything, knowing deep down that she felt Cody's loss as keenly as he did.
He knew that he was hurting her, that he was aiming his self loathing and guilt at her.
He should care... but right now a part of him wanted her to leave, wanted her to realize that he had failed. A aprt of him wanted her to blame him for Cody death, the way he blamed himself.
"Well we have the house to ourselves again Casey." He hissed. "You must be very happy about that, no one to complicate things. Indeed, you must be very pleased."
As soon as the words were out he wished he could take them back.
The look of total devastation that swept across Casey's face was proof that he had gone way too far.
He didn't see the punch coming, but he felt it as he was knocked backward off his feet and landed on the kitchen floor. Casey stood over him, her face a mask of hatred, her tone pure ice.
"I understand that you lost your son Webb, and I miss Cody too, it's like a huge piece of me is missing. But unlike you I am trying to find out who did this and make them pay. If you want to dishonor the memory of your son by spending the rest of your life crawling around the bottom of a bottle of scotch, then that's fine, go right ahead. Just don't expect me to be here when you sober up."
Turning, she walked up the stairs to their bedroom , pulling a suitcase down she began packing her things.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Webb said walking into the bedroom, rubbing his aching jaw.
"I'm leaving" She said as she threw more clothes into the suitcase. " I can't stay here with you any more Webb."
"You can't leave Case. Please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said. I was drunk and I know I was being an asshole."
"I'm sorry Clay, there are some things you just can't take back."
Casey closed the suitcase with a slap and after grabbing her trenchcoat from the wardrobe she made her way down stairs to her car.
Helpless to do anything to stop her, he watched her walk out of his life.
END FLASHBACK SEQUENCE
October 15th
Clayton Webb's Residence
Alexandria , Virgina
Clay walked through the empty house, surrounded by the memories of happier times.If he listened closely he could almost imagine that he heard his sons laughter echoing through the hallway.
As he went to refill his scotch, Clay caught sight of himself in the mirror.
Unshaven, unkempt and holding a glass, he looked like someone had dragged him in off a street corner, rather than the suave CIA operative that he was.
With a sigh of disgust Clay placed the glass down on the hall table and went upstairs to take a shower.
If he was going to call in those favors to find his son's killer, he would need to be sober and alert.
His son would be avenged, even if it killed him.
October 17th
CIA Building Langley
McLean, Virginia
Casey McDaniels sat at the desk in her office staring at the open file on her screen, she had been trying for the last 2 days to gain access to the investigation records on Cody's murder with no success. For some reason all files on the murder had been classified at level 12, highest clearance, reserved only for the upper echelons and selected brown-nosing members of the executive staff.
She picked up the phone and dialed through to Tim Fawkes' secretary, after making an appointment she made her way down to see him.
The meeting had not gone well.
She had demanded to know the details contained in the file, but Tim had refused, citing that the file was classified for a reason he was not at liberty to discuss.
She had begged and been stonewalled, pleaded, but gotten nowhere.
Finally she had threatened to resign if the information was not forthcoming.
Tim had said nothing, merely looked at her sympathetically.
In frustration she had slammed out of the office and gone back downstairs to her own office caught between tears of helplessness and a growing sense of rage.
One hour later, Director of the CIA Tim Fawkes received a three page resignation letter from Special Agent Cassandra McDaniels in the internal mail. With a muttered curse Tim stormed out of his office and down to Casey's, only to find her packing the last of her personal possessions into a cardboard box ready to leave the building.
"What is this?" He yelled throwing the letter on the desk.
"What does it look like 'Sir'." She snapped back.
"Like a Goddamn mistake."
"It's a lot of things 'Sir', but a mistake isn't one of them."
"You don't have to do this McDaniels."
"Sir, YOU have given me no choice. I came to you, asking you for help, I pleaded and begged and still I got nowhere. So I figure it either means you won't help me, in which case I'm better of out of here. Or you don't KNOW anything , which means I'm better of trying to find out who killed Cody myself!"
"That's the most insane thing I think I've ever heard you say McDaniels."
"Insane? How sane do you think I could be Tim? A four year old boy was murdered in cold blood, and the Agency both his father and I have dedicated our lives to, now refuses to actively aid in the investigation of his murder.How sane do you think I could be after that?"
"Resigning from the Company will mean that you won't have access to our resources, you'll be working blind McDaniels." He tried to appeal to her sense of logic. "Does Webb know about your decision ?"
Casey looked at Tim, anguish etched on her face.
"I wouldn't know, I haven't seen Agent Webb since I moved out of the house 4 days ago."
"Casey...what is going on with you two? You should be trying to support each other not isolating each other."
"I can't support someone who's spent the last 2 months sitting at the bottom of a bottle of single malt scotch Tim. Clay hasn't had one sober day since Cody was murdered, he wasn't even sober for the funeral."
"We all deal with these things in different..."
"Bullshit, Clayton Webb is not DEALING with anything..."
"Give him time Casey. He needs time to grieve, just like you do."
"I'm done grieving, I want to find the son-of-a-bitch that killed Cody and I'm going to make them pay."
She picked up the cardboard box and walked to the door. "And if that means I have to do it alone, then I will."
She walked out of the office and into the elevator.
"Goodbye Tim."
Tim watched the doors close on Casey's distinguished 10 year career with the Company, and wondered how many other lives had been ruined by the Agency's incessant need to keep secrets.
With a sigh he walked back to his office, Casey's resignation letter tucked into his suit jacket pocket.
Maybe he would just keep it for a few weeks and see if she changed her mind.
Opening the wall safe behind his desk he placed the envelope inside and locked it again.
The Agency wasn't the only one that could keep a secret.
He picked up the phone and called his secretary.
"Stella, could you inform personnel that I have put Agent McDaniels on extended leave, cite post traumatic stress as the reason."
"Very good Sir."
Satisfied that he had done the right thing, Tim Fawkes picked up his files and made his way to his 16:00 meeting with the Senate Oversight Committee.