Logan MacGregor

Logan pulled his Lexus into a parking space at the church and slowly climbed out of the vehicle. He grabbed the wooden cane with a sigh of acceptance and took a deep breath of the chill air. It was dry and brisk, but the sun was shining and there were no clouds this afternoon. With a grimace as the cold caused his bruised and wounded leg to cramp, he pulled his dark trenchcoat tighter and limped over to the main entrance of the chapel.

He'd been to the Cathedral of St. Joseph only once before, when he'd first arrived in Atlanta and had been hoping to convince the pastor, Father Berny to help him reconcile with his father. Although the priest had been sympathetic, and had spoken to Sean about the matter, there had been no reconciliation and now, there never would be.

The imposing granite structure of the chapel had none of the decorative stonework or stained glass windows of other cathedrals. It was simply a two story wall of grey, tapering to a 15 foot belltower and steeple. Although his faith had fallen by the wayside long ago, Logan liked this church - it was severe, no-nonsense. It served its purpose without the frills and ornamentation that distracted from the true message.

A young man in the white robes of an altar boy stood by the entrance and nodded deferentially as he approached. "Good afternoon, sir, and welcome. The service is just beginning."

Logan nodded and limped as quickly as he could manage through the narthex to take a seat in the back corner of the sanctuary as Father Berny began the funeral mass for his father and brother.

After the Mass was complete, Logan remained in his seat as the other mourners slowly filed past the closed caskets, laying flowers or simply touching the wood before crossing themselves. He watched them closely, and met his grandfather's gaze evenly when the man looked his way. He saw Ian's eyes narrow, but then he looked away, accepting another condolence from one of Colin's schoolmates.

As the crowd thinned, Logan finally stood and began making his way towards the caskets. The crowd gently parted for him as they saw his limp and cane, and he nodded his thanks to those who allowed him to pass.

His grandfather stood at one end of the caskets, nearest the altar, so Logan remained on the far side. He bent over Colin's, placed a hand on top and whispered quietly, in Gaelic, "You will be avenged, my brother." Ian's hearing had always been excellent, however, and the man turned quickly from the brown haired woman he was speaking with to fix his steely gaze on his grandson. Logan inclined his head and turned to leave, when he overheard a bit of his grandfather's conversation.

Logan winced at the acerbic tone in the man's voice. He had known Ian and Sean had been of like minds in keeping Colin from ever knowing about his brother, but any hope that the antagonism would fade now seemed foolish.

He stopped halfway back to the doors and turned to look back over his shoulder suddenly. "Detective?", he murmured. "Is that so..."

Nodding to himself, Logan took a seat in the narthex to wait. Perhaps the detective could confirm the rumors about the man charged in Colin's death. With no small amount of experience in getting away with murder, he was well aware that dropped charges did not an innocent man make.

He didn't have long to wait, fortunately. The chances that someone around here was aware of an ongoing Brazilian manhunt were unlikely, but sitting around in public view while awaiting a cop was certainly not the best course of action.

The brunette strode out of the doors, and Logan got to his feet and hobbled after her. "Excuse me...Detective..."

She turned at hearing his soft Irish accent calling after her. The woman had striking blue eyes, narrow like a cat's. "Yes?"

Logan put on his most charming smile. "I was wondering if ye could tell me anything about that man they released..."

"I'm sorry sir", the woman's eyes flashed coldly, and he knew he'd touched a sore point, "but I can't discuss an ongoing investigation."

"Mr. Hariien was cleared of all charges, Mister....?" She arched an eyebrow in his direction.

"Very well, Logan. I assure you the police and the FBI are both doing everything in our power to bring Colin's murderer to justice", she said flatly.

He didn't buy it, and from the tone of her voice, neither did she. Still, he could only press so much without being too easily remembered. "I see, Detective, thank you."

"Hang on a second, do I know you?" He could hear the natural suspicion of cop's instinct overriding her desire to be polite to a funeral mourner. "How did you know I was a detective?"

Logan smiled faintly. "I heard you talking tae Ian. I don't think we've met before, though. Good afternoon." Without a further glance, he limped down the stairs and back to his car.

He had what he needed to know - the cops believed Ako was the murderer, and the anger in that detective's voice and eyes told him that someone was covering for the bastard, letting him off. Well, the fucker wouldn't get away with it. He slid his Nokia into the cradle and punched the speed dial for Karen Anders.

NextWorld wasn't an employer you just gave two week's notice to, but with his own recent experiences - six months in a Brazilian prison, including two months in a coma in the Brazilian hospital - combined with the loss of his family, it was time to start laying the groundwork.

He swallowed. He couldn't imagine this would be easy - he knew of very few other agents who had left NextWorld any way except in a body bag. And several of the dead ones were still around.

"Good, good, look, don't take this the wrong way, but what with recent events, there's a lot of pressure from above to take it easy on you, keep you on cakewalks, that sort of thing. I think it's horseshit, personally, and I told Sir Alfred that, but he insisted."

This was too good to be true. "Sir Alfred doesn't think I'm able to keep up anymore?"

"That's not exactly what he said, but...", Karen's voice trailed off. "Look, you know if you say the word, I'll take this fight to the triumvirate."

"But you need to pick your battles. Is that what you're saying?" Logan allowed a hint of anger to color his words. "I get out of that Amazon hell hole, and they want to cut me loose?"

"Oh, save it, Karen." He sighed, trying not to let the grin on his face affect his tone. He lowered his voice, forcing it to sound disappointed. "I'm sorry. I know this isn't your fault. Maybe...maybe it's for the best."

"I'm serious, I can keep you on tier four duties if you want", she said, trying to appease his wounded pride.

"But it'll cost you political capital that you're going to need, with everything else going on", Logan replied. "I have to admit, I was wondering if my luck was running out. Thanks for letting me know."

"Look, we've still got work for you. At the very least, we wanted you to show some new recruits the ropes. You've still got a year on your contract, too, and we intend to get our money's worth out of you." The relief in her voice told Logan all he needed to know. Not only had she gone for it, she was actually glad for it.

He smiled to himself. "So, I'll be doing...what, tier two and three assignments through the end of my contract? And then..."

"Well, probably on site training until you're fully mobile again. After that, I'd say tier two for the most part, though I may be able to swing a three here and there. Next November, you get your gold watch, a hefty sum, and a pat on the back."

He could hear the anxiety back in her voice, afraid he would change his mind, reject being put out to pasture. Perhaps he could use that. "I guess I can live with that. But..."

"Don't worry, it's a small but." He chuckled. "Anything we can come up with on one Ako Hariien. A yakuza enforcer of some note."

"Well, I don't see that would be a problem. Can I ask why?" Now she was suspicious again.

"You know where I just came from, Karen." Even over the supposedly encrypted line, he wasn't about to give out his location. "Ako is the reason I had to be there."

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Last Updated: January 28, 2004 by Blake Sorensen

2 November, 2002