How I Met Your Mother Ch. 04

"However, my husband made a good point in his own special way," Leah said as she dangled the keys to the handcuffs in front of Banfield's eyes. "There are worse fates than death." She grabbed the chair and rotated it ninety degrees so that Banfield was facing the window. Through the broken pane of glass they could both see a stream of headlights winding down a narrow road that led to the old military complex.

"That's an FSB snatch squad that's been tipped off that you're here." Leah hissed. "They seem to have received some evidence that you were responsible for supplying the Chechens with the weapons used in the death of the Russian Foreign Minister two months ago." She walked behind the chair again, pressing the pistol into the back of Banfield's head once more. He heard a clicking noise – then his hands were free. They went straight to the duct tape.

"Not just yet," Leah threatened. Banfield's hands moved slowly to his sides. A scrawny built man, Leah knew he wouldn't pose a threat to her even if he escaped the cuffs that attached his ankles to the chair. She walked back around into his field of view. "I understand that they have a nice little cell lined up for you in one of their compounds in the north of the country. I'm a fair sort of person – I've decided not to kill you and I'll even give you the chance to see if you can escape the FSB before they arrive."

Leah threw the keys to the shackles to him. "However, I never said it would be a fair race." Just as Banfield caught them, she bought the pistol up and fired once. The bullet struck him in the kneecap. Banfield's eyes were wide as his screams were deadened by the duct tape. He writhed on the chair, swinging back and forth until he ended up toppling over. Leah took another look out of the window – the column of vehicles was getting closer.

Without a backwards glance, Leah left, the sound of Banfield's agonisingly desperate attempts to free himself filling the room.

****

Wednesday

11:30 pm

The sound of the door closing was greeted by silence. Leah put her suitcase down in the hallway and slipped off her shoes, finding the wood beneath her feet both familiar and cool. As she padded along the hallway Leah could smell the feint aroma of Colombian coffee sitting in the percolator. Opening the door to the dining room, she saw Andrew hunched over the computer, his fingers dancing around the keyboard. He looked over his shoulder at her.

"Hey, you're back!" Andrew got up out of his chair and embraced his wife. He could feel the tension in her limbs as she held him tightly. "I didn't think you were getting back until tomorrow morning – why didn't you call? We'd have picked you up from the airport..."

"It's late – the kids are in bed. I thought it was easier to get a cab," Leah replied, her face buried in his shoulder. "Besides I had to stop by the office first." She relinquished her grip on Andrew's torso to reach into her jacket pocket. A moment later she presented Andrew with the picture she had taken from her desk. He held it in his hand for a moment as Leah turned around and walked out of the dining room. "Was that fresh coffee I could smell in the kitchen?"

"Yeah – it's about half an hour old," Andrew said, looking at the picture in his hands before following her. Neither of them spoke as Leah poured herself a cup of the thick black liquid. Andrew looked at the image in the small frame sayingWorld's Best Mom– the only personal effect she had on her desk – and realised the significance of it. As he put the picture down on the unit he watched as Leah drained the cup, pausing to refill it. "Are you okay?"

"No," Leah answered. "But I will be." She looked at Andrew.

"Sarah has quit as my assistant," he looked at the picture again. "She was offered a job as an editor at Random House. I suggested she took it."

"So, you have anyone in mind for that vacancy?"

"Maybe," Andrew replied, moving over to his wife and wrapping his arms around her again. "I'll need to interview you, assess your skills, determine what your best attributes are..."

"Oh really?" Leah smiled – the first time she had smiled in several days.

"Yeah – but the pay sucks, the hours are long, the holiday entitlement is lousy and I'm a horrible boss..."

"I think I'll manage," She quipped. "My husband is a writer as well you know – I'm used to dealing with you artistic types."

"Really? When can you start?" Andrew said as Leah pretended to look like she was thinking. "How about first thing tomorrow?"

"That's perfect as I'm in between jobs right now." Leah said. She kissed Andrew and found herself looking into his eyes.

"Great," Andrew reached over and switched off the coffee machine. The gurgling sound died away as he kissed Leah once more. "In which case we need to get to bed – you start at nine tomorrow morning and I hate people who are tardy on the first day."