"Hudson, you got lucky. Spur of the moment action is fine, but it won't save you in the long run. Eventually, sooner rather than later, the bad guys are going to get you. I'm not going to argue the point anymore with you. You'll stay here, until we're done with this fucked up mission. More importantly, you aren't going to endanger my teams because your feelings are hurt and want to leave. If you try to leave I'll shoot you myself, and save the bad guys the effort. Do we understand each other?" asked Hughes hotly.
Don was fuming. He'd been cooped up since the night of his attempted murder, three days ago. He'd been transported to a farmhouse lost in the middle of bumfuck woods. Don doubted anyone had lived there since before the American Civil War. The interior of the two story house had been repaired well enough to make it livable. Barely. The barn was large enough to hold the four vehicles that were hidden within its confines.
There was a reasonably stocked kitchen and plenty of reading material, but what it didn't have and what Don wanted most, was freedom.
"I hear you, Hughes." replied Don, his voice strained by the effort of keeping his temper under control.
"Goddammit, Hudson, I don't give a fuck about your ears! I asked if you understood! Are we going to have to restrain you? Is that what you want?" roared Hughes, angry at Don's peevishness.
"Fuck it! Alright, I understand!" shouted Dom back at Hughes.
After shaking his head and glaring furiously at Don, Hughes stalked off.
Rhodes was in the adjoining room, and unwillingly overheard the exchange between her boss and Hudson. She wasn't prone to getting involved in other people's business, unless, of course, she was on a mission, but something needed to be done before things escalated to the point of no return.
"Hello, Mister Hudson. Might I talk with you?" asked Wanda as she stood in the doorway of Don's room.
Surprised at her presence, for a second Don could only stare at Rhodes. "Why not, Ms. Rhodes? Everyone else seems to want to talk at me. Maybe you will talk 'with' me. Come on in. Have a sit." angrily answered Don.
Nodding her head, Wanda took one step into Don's room. "I'll get right to the point. I couldn't help overhear you and Mister Hughes."
"Okay. And? Or is this a but moment?" asked Don sarcastically.
"Please, Mister Hudson. I'm not here to argue with you." said Wanda in her soft lilting voice.
Sighing Don stepped to one of the chairs at the table in his room. "I'm sorry. Look- Please sit. It'll be more comfortable as we talk." Don pulled out one of the chairs, patting its backrest, inviting her to sit.
Wanda moved somewhat stiffly to the chair, yet, somehow managed to make her motion seem dainty. Don found it fascinating that Rhodes could move so femininely, and be such a cold blooded killer.
Rhodes stood a slim five foot ten inches and probably weighed in around one-hundred and twenty pounds. She had a longish neck, almost delicate, and a narrow face. Her eyes were bluish-gray and seemed both soft and icy in their appearance. She wore her auburn hair short, in a nineteen-fifties dutch boy style, which framed her face in a pixie-like manner. Her present attire, which consisted of skin hugging cream colored capris, and a semi-tight powder blue blouse, added to the effect. Her footwear were black loafers. She wore no makeup and no jewelry. Her hands were slim, long of finger with short unpainted nails, and appeared delicate. Don hadn't really noticed the size of Rhodes' breasts, until now. As Wanda sat down, her blouse pulled even tighter across her chest, and for a moment, Don saw that her breasts were small and pert. At their sight, Don felt a familiar stirring within his neither regions. Glancing away, Don looked back at her face. Up close, Don saw that her head was definitely misshapen; it was the left side of her face. Her cheek bone was more prominent than the other and the eye was a bit higher, however, the disfigurement was slight, and it wasn't really all that obvious. In fact, her hair, her clothing, and her slight disfigurement gave her a certain air, like a cross between Marlene Dietrich and Doris Day.
"I've some coffee made, if you'd like some." offered Don, pointing to a small carafe.
"Yes, that would be- nice. Thank you."
After getting them both a cup of coffee, Don sat, took a sip, and began, "Okay, it's your dime."
Don noticed Rhodes hadn't reached for her coffee.
Looking him squarely in the eye, Rhodes said, "A lot of people are now involved. Everyone of those people is basically working on your behalf. Hughes- We didn't expect the escalation we've encountered. Not for something as simple as a wife leaving her husband." She saw him flinch at her words and quickly spoke, "I'm sorry, but it's the truth. Still, we knew from the beginning there was more to the situation than was immediately obvious. It's why Hughes set up the surveillance on those surveilling you."
Wanda saw a flicker of anger and something else, perhaps emotional pain, cross his face for a second, before he settled to a more neutral expression.
"I know all that! What's your fucking point?" asked Don with some exasperation.
"My point? My point is-" Then something shifted inside Wanda Rhodes. She was going to try to be the peacemaker, but of a sudden she realized that approach wouldn't work. Instead, she decided to bring him to the reality of the situation. "The team has lost a good man and I've lost a good friend. Hughes is now paying out of pocket for the extra bodies we need. As for your friend, Pete Santos- not only has he spent a large sum of money to initially bring the team in, but he also now owes a large favor to Hughes. It was the only way Hughes would get involved, because he really didn't want any part of it. Yes, you've had a bad time of it, but you're attitude- your behavior, is making it even more difficult than it needs to be, Mister Hudson. We are trying to get to the bottom of this, while protecting you. You're not making this any easier with your constant and childish demands of trying to get your way."
Somewhat floored at Rhodes' words, Don didn't immediately respond. He was angry at what she'd just said, but also, he was beginning to doubt his own perspective. Had he been such an asshole? Some part of him knew he had, but he wasn't ready to admit it fully to himself. Not just yet.
"What the...? I didn't do shi-" sputtered Don in rising anger.
Rhodes went on as if she hadn't heard him.
"Let me put it to you another way. I had my doubts concerning your cooperation, and as you refused sound advise and the offer of protection, you proved yourself in a way that doesn't help your case. But, I tried to do my job, despite your constant interference. However, I do thank you. When you made it abundantly clear that you didn't want my help in keeping you alive, I was able to walk away with a clear conscious." Giving him a cold steady look, Rhodes said, "In my opinion, you're a ignorant, arrogant, insensitive fool, and I sorely regret we took this job. You don't deserve the sacrifices made by Mendoza, Santos, Hughes and myself. Now, unfortunately, we are in too deep to walk away, and the murder of Mendoza has made this a personal matter. Despite your wife being tied to the case, you yourself have become superfluous to the goal of the mission. The fact is, Mister Hudson, we don't need you as anything more than as bait. And, it's your faked death that will draw them out." The way Rhodes said the last sentence had Don thinking that to Rhodes, his real death would have been a better alternative, with far less work.
Don stared at Rhodes, some part of him, the part not sheathed in anger, felt wonder at her delivery. Her soft lilt of a voice hadn't rising in volume, yet, she had been clear and loud enough to be heard easily. Her words were without any particular inflection, they'd been spoken in a cool detached way, much like a lab technician might refer to a rat in a cage.
Don, outside of the always present anger, wasn't sure how to feel with what Rhodes' had just told him. He squashed a knee-jerk emotional reaction, instead letting her words be absorbed, and rather than think on them, he allowed each word to meander through his mind freely. Don began to gain a different sense- a differing interpretation- one that was at odds with an entrenched part of his anger. Put more aptly, it was at odds with the actual cause of his anger. Then a epiphany hit.
While Don had pondered his response those few seconds, he had looked away from Rhodes. Now, he raised his head and locked eyes with her.
"Finally! Someone has explained what's going on, and with a bit of honesty tossed in. Thanks, Rhodes." said Don with a sardonic smile.
Wanda raised one shapely eye brow in question.
"It's my life that's been going down the shitter. First, my wife accuses me of infidelity and leaves to live with another man. And, I don't know why. Or, I didn't. Then, I'm followed by two goons and Pete brings you all in. Hughes has a game plan, but he won't let me even sit along the sideline. Instead, as it turns out, I'm the fucking football. Next, the shit goes from bad to worse. Mendoza gets killed and you get shot up." At his last words, Don sees Rhodes frown slightly, before her expression quickly returns to it's normal stoicalness.
"Then, you come along, demanding I do this and that to improve security. That night, you really didn't discuss anything with me, what you did when we were supposed to be discussing those things, was to repeat the same demands over and over." said Don heatedly. He stopped to draw a calming breath, before continuing. "Then, someone tries to kill me." A toothy but mirthless grin stretches Don's face as he recalls the two would be killers and of the nervy excitement he felt as it went down. "Now, here I am, hidden away, sitting on my ass, pretending to be dead. And, until now, I wasn't certain to what was going on and what my role is. Until you explained its fishing out the bad guys and I'm the bait. So, thanks."
Upon finishing his speech, Don immediately lifted his coffee cup and took a careful sip, it had cooled down enough not to sear his tongue, so he gulped a large portion and set the cup back down.
Rhodes was looking at him as if he were some unknown creature.
"How long has she been sleeping with him?" asked Don calmly.
A quizzical expression crossed Wanda's face. "Who?"
"Oh, come on. I know you're not dense and neither am I. Donna doesn't have a blood relative named- What was it? Mark McClansky? So how long has she been sleeping with him?"
Surprise widened Rhodes' eyes. "How did you- Who told you?"
"No one told me, but you just confirmed it."
Her surprise increased, as well as a growing anger at her carelessness. She saw Don was waiting for an answer to his question.
"You'll have to speak to Hughes about that."
Sighing, Don said, "We both know how that will go. So, I'm asking you. How long?"
For the first time in years, Wanda felt trapped. Even the recent ambush didn't have her feeling so cornered.
"I really think you should-"
"No, goddammit! Just tell me. I think I already know, but if you'll confirm it, then I'll drop any further questions concerning my slut of a wife. Okay?"
Wanda didn't like deceiving anyone. In fact, she had argued against withholding any information from Hudson, but Hughes and Santos thought it best not to tell him. But, she also followed orders, even when she didn't agree with those orders. So she hadn't breathed a word of it. Now here was Hudson, already aware that his wife had cheated on him, and wanting to know the time table. Fuck it!
