The Killing Bind

Epilogue

The streets of Santa Monica had been stunned with events of the past week. The citizens of the place had locked themselves up, completely afraid of going out. Slowly, the area was returning to its normal life. The shops open, children hustling and running to get to school on time on their bicycles.

The FBI was going under investigation by the CIA, to check and confirm the security and safety of the Intelligence agency and the country. Jacob Milton had been under trial and had received life without parole in the ADX Florence in Colorado, which is home to the most violent and gruesome criminals. It was also the highest security prison in the US.

Andrew Beckett looked up from his cap and watched the T.V screen through the glass window. He watched the news reporter speak and clarify the events of what had happened. The picture of Rick Roverfield was displayed in the top left corner of the screen. The reporter seemed to be telling that the mole was caught during a secret security search by the CIA. Leyland covered it up pretty well, he thought.

His injuries had healed up pretty well. He would have to work out and rest properly if he wanted to be like how he was before. He didn't know why he would be needing it anymore though.

After his escape from the authorities a week back, Andrew had taken a bath from a local motel to clean himself off blood and the smell of sewers. He hadn't booked the room though. He had entered the premises while the man was sleeping and entered an already occupied room. The guest had left for dinner. He had taken a cold bath and dressed in fresh clothes from the man's suitcase.

The screen had changed to a picture showing the silhouette of a man with a huge question mark right down at the center. He was sure it was his brothers. The CIA needed to have something to say to the press and the department of defense had done their part. He was thankful to Leyland for covering his ass.

Andrew walked away from the screen and sat at the bus stop. The bus came to a halt and he entered and took a seat. He wanted to do something. He felt like he had to do this.

He looked out of the window of the moving bus. The people, the cars, the trees, all of them were a blur to Andrew. It was just like his life. A blur. No one knew he existed, yet he was there. He would just walk past them as a normal man, but he was anything but normal.

He got out of the bus a few blocks away from where his initial destination was. Andrew began walking through the people in business suits and joggers. The weather was different. It wasn't hot. The dark clouds covered the skies like a blanket covering a little child when he saw a nightmare.

Andrew thought of all the things he could have done if his brother hadn't done what he had done. His brother said something about Andrew being better. Changing of names from plays and shows. He didn't fully understand what Jack had meant, but he knew the gist of it. He didn't want to know. It was like the saying, 'something are better left unsaid.'

He had thought about killing Jack himself that in the end, it wasn't him who had done the job. It was Jack himself. He didn't understand what had gone through his head and didn't want to either.

Andrew reached the place he wanted to be at. He lifted his head and looked up at the sign.

Fieldlings Cemetery.

He pushed the small gate open and entered the place. The gravestones there were cracked and the writing had faded on most of them. Andrew, slowly walked along the paved path, searching for Kit Martin. As he almost reached the end of the path, he turned left and stood there, silently looking at the granite gravestone, with a name freshly engraved.