Midnight

"Christ, Will. I don't know how you do it. I'd think you were cheating, except we've all been watching you like hawks for years now and know you're not. Your dad must have been a hell of a player."

Will nodded, smirking as he raked in his chips, not bothering to count them yet. "He was. Fortunately, it was one of the only things I inherited from him." The other men nodded gravely. 

Sorry Dad, thought Will, but I'm not going to convince a bunch of senators and congressmen that someone like you was actually a much more complicated individual. They have an inclination to see the world in black and white- and I need them. Will could imagine Gavin sitting in the corner and shrugging, not minding in the least.

"I still can't believe you came clean about all that," snorted James Landon, junior senator from Kansas. 

"I don't have anything to hide, Jim. We're not defined by our families. One of nice things about America, wouldn't you say?" responded Will as he shuffled the cards.

"Well, there's more and more talk about you thinking about running for President and-"

As a few other people started to speak, the gruff voice of John Knox, elder statesman from Massachusetts, shut them down, "Jim, you know the rules. No talking about work. Not a word. Last time someone made a joke about Socialism and all that, we couldn't get a proper game together for three weeks. Just play the game. Now, how's the family doing, Will?"

At least three people chuckled, and even Knox looked slightly abashed as he looked at Will. "Well, shit. I, uh, meant your wife and son. Sorry."

Will flashed a practiced, winning grin, "No need to apologize, Jack. Angie's doing just fine. She's thinking about writing a book, actually. And Malcolm just turned eight, doing fine in school, thanks for asking. He's a clever one- just in his blood, I guess. And... I'm gonna raise this one just a little bit."

Faces turned sour around the table- especially Jim's. Will grinned and pushed some money towards the center.

1 AM

Will climbed into the back of the car and closed the door. Leaning forward, he handed the wad of bills up to the driver. Volkov took it and slipped it into his pocket as he slipped the car into drive.

"Not a bad night, William. A bit of a late one, though."

"Yea, sorry. Recess is coming up, wanted to try to get one more game in."

"No need to apologize."

"You need to go see your sister. Have that dinner."

Will sighed, "Yeah. I know. I want to. It's just hard. I've missed her- you know that. But she's stirred the hornets' nest by coming back like this. It would have been easier if she just stayed retired."

"That's a hard thing to do."

"Says the man who's never tried."

Volkov grinned, "Maybe someday. When you do."

"Speaking of- how are we doing in terms of the rundown?"

"I've been in touch with the usual contacts, threatening some people, blackmail-"

"I don't need the details, as long as you're doing it to criminals."

"Of course. Summary is that you're safe. No major threats- to you, at least. Last I heard, Aurora had an assassin pay her a visit at home-"

Will's eyes shot up, meeting Volkov's in the rear-view mirror.

"- but she's fine. Relax. I would have led with that, if something had happened."

Will exhaled, "Yea. I know. That one of the ones you warned her about?" Volkov nodded. Will stared out the window, eventually saying, "She'll be fine. She's a survivor."

Volkov shrugged, "Whoever hired the assassin is out for blood. She'll have to find a more permanent sol-"

Will raised a hand to stop him, "Thanks. I think I know what the solution will be. No need to say any more."

2 AM

Will nodded goodnight to Volkov, who was moving down the hall toward his first floor bedroom, before climbing the stairs and headed toward his and Angie's room. He tried to open the door silently, but his wife stirred as soon as he stepped in the room. Will murmured a soft "sorry", but she was already getting up to walk past him toward the bathroom without a word.

He kicked off his shoes, unbuttoned his dress shirt, and tossed his shirt, pants, and socks in the hamper as he listened to his wife brush his teeth. By the time she'd returned, he was lying in bed. Angie rested her head against his chest. 

"Late night at the office?" she asked, not sounding too tired.

"Poker night, remember?"

Angie's hand slid down his chest. Will turned toward toward his wife as he felt his blood grow warmer.

"Did you get lucky tonight, Will?"

"If I say yes, are you still going to get on top of me?"

"Maybe."

"Yes."

She did.

3 AM

Will listened as his and Angie's breathing slowly returned to normal. His arm was draped over her, and she pulled it tighter as if he was a blanket. They stayed like that so long, pressed up against each other, that Will had started to drift off to sleep before his wife's voice pulled him back.

"I wish we could have more kids."

Will blinked, "I know, hun. It's normal to feel that way, but you know I love our family. I wouldn't want anything different."

"Sometimes I just think about Aurora and Billy and all their kids. Five kids is such a nice, big family. I just wish Malcolm had a brother or sister."

"You know how much we've talked about adoption. Are you thinking about it?"

Angie rolled over toward Will and even in the darkness he could see her smile. "I think I am, Will. I wasn't ready before, making my peace with things. As long as you're sure that adopting wouldn't hurt your-"

"If you say anything about my career right now, I'll divorce you, which would hurt my career. So stop. I've said this to you a thousand times. I'd love to adopt. How many times have I told you about Aurora? And Brigitte? Just because someone doesn't share your blood doesn't mean they aren't family. We can definitely make this work."

The excitement was growing in his voice, and Angie kissed him.

"Calm down, Senator. You're not making a speech. Go to sleep. We'll talk more in the morning."

Holding loosely onto each other, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

4 AM

The street was quiet as the two shadows stepped out of the darkness into suburban America. Their long jackets and the bags slung over their shoulders hid their feminine silhouettes as they effortlessly scaled the wall and made their way to the Byrne residence. They dropped the bags next to the Ford in the driveway, and one of them slid on her back under the car to begin working. The other pointed a gun at Volkov's window. 

For twenty minutes, there were no sounds except for the nearly-silent work being done to the bottom of the car. When the work was finished, the tools were packed up and the two women melted back into the shadows. When they were a safe distance away and able to relax again, the brunette turned to her blonde companion.

"I don't like this, Serena. That's not how we used to operate."

"Well, we're in it for the money now. We operate however we're paid for. And Mattaranzi wants blood."

5 AM

Will felt the impact of his son's body against his chest simultaneously as the "Dad!" hit his ears. Grimacing, Will blearily hugged his son. 

"Hey buddy. What time is it?"

"There's a 5 on the clock."

"As the first number?"

"Yea."

"Go back to bed."

"But I lost a tooth."

"Is there any blood?"

"A little. I got it with a tissue."

"Okay... well good. Just stay here and lie with us for a bit, okay?"

"Okay."

Will turned over, hugging his son, thankful that he and Angie had put their clothes back on. He really needed to get a lock for the door. 

6 AM

Will woke up with blood on his hands- the left one, at least. 

"Ange?!"

"Handling it!" said his wife, seemingly in the bathroom with Malcolm. 

With the smile of a man who has full faith in his wife, he slid over to Angie's side of the bed and a clean pillow.

"Could still use a hand, though!" 

Will sighed and dragged himself out of bed. For the next ten minutes, he helped Angie and Malcolm handle the tooth issue. By that time, even though he was weary, he didn't feel like he could go back to sleep. Trudging downstairs, he could smell that Volkov already had coffee brewing. Will slid onto a stool and accepted a cup, raising it in thanks.

"What's on the schedule for today, boss?"

"I'm not your boss."

"Well?"

"A few meetings. Nothing until later in the morning, though. Anything up for you after you drop me off?"

"Some more meetings. People want to be assured that, now that Aurora is back, nothing is changing. Some need threats, some need money, some need reassurances."

"Thank you, Anton. I never could have done this without you. I feel like I've been building a house of cards for years, while you keep people from knocking it over."

"An apt analogy. I must also block the wind."

Will shrugged, "Well, we're almost there. A few more months is all I need. I've almost got the votes, and I've been practically knocking the door down when it comes to the President's Chief of Staff. A few more months..."

"You keep saying that. What is it, exactly, that you're doing?"

"Killing the mob."

Volkov scoffed.

"You don't believe me, but I know it'll work. The Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act. I get this passed, and then..."

Will grinned.

"... well, I'll probably have to hire about 30 more guys like you."

"Good luck finding guys like me."

"Fair point."

"How does it work? This Rack-"

Will shushed Volkov as Malcolm jumped down the stairs.

"Bathroom's open for you, dad."

Finishing his coffee, Will headed back upstairs.

7 AM

Stepping out of the shower, Will did a double take as he walked past the mirror. Every so often, it felt like Dad was looking out at him- mostly when Will was tired, drunk, or needed a shave. Grinning, Will lathered up the shaving cream and began carefully running the straight razor over his face.

He'd been thinking a lot about Gavin, lately. He tended to think of his father in waves; there'd be weeks when the old man was constantly on his mind, and then he'd just... slip away for a week or two before tapping him on the shoulder again. But he thought about Bella constantly: every time he sat down behind his desk, every time he made a phone call, every time he maneuvered through the political landscape of Washington he felt his mother's hand on his shoulder, heard her voice in his ear.

Although he wasn't truly sure how she or Gavin would react to him trying to destroy organized crime in the country, he knew that he would have made them both proud.

But could they be proud of one child helping run New York and another child trying to take down the mob at the same time?

Wincing, Will saw the drop of blood appear near his Adam's apple. He put a small piece of newspaper on and watched it turn red. He'd have to be more careful not to get distracted. A senator shouldn't walk into a meeting looking like a freshman in college. With a grin, he dismissed the wandering thoughts of a tired mind, splashed cold water on his face, and went to get dressed. 

8 AM

The four Byrnes were seated at the table, enjoying their breakfast and conversation with each other. Eggs, bacon, toast, and potatoes made for a classic combination. At one point, as Volkov and Malcolm were arguing that eight was plenty old enough to play football, Will sat back and took a deep breath to appreciate the moment. 

Angie, beautiful, with an even more beautiful mind always working, reciting statistics about injuries.

Anton, a man who'd become more and more part of their family every year as he traded the shadows for a well-lit kitchen table, was telling a Russian story about a bear, a wolf, and a caribou- the moral of which was apparently that boys should play football.

And Malcolm was smiling so wide, either from the fact that he'd ignited a fight or that he was using the chaos to steal bacon from everyone else's plate.

Please, prayed Will, just let me get this bill passed in the next session. After that, I'll have everything. A family- and the thorough, permanent victory that he'd been working for ever since his sister had dragged him away from his mother.

"Dad, can I start up the car for you?"

"Did you finish your breakfast?"

"Yep."

"Then sure."

Will was halfway toward tossing his keys to the boy when Angie's voice stopped him.

"Did you finish your homework?"

"Yep!"

"The math?"

"Well... most of it."

"Stay here and finish it, then. We'll just head in a little later?"

"We?" asked Will.

"I've got some people to say goodbye to before we start transitioning back to Philly."

Will nodded, "Great. We'll ride in together, then."

As breakfast was put away, Malcolm worked on his homework; Volkov led Will and Angie outside with his hands in his pockets before doing a quick sweep of the surrounding area and the car.

"You're good. I'll head in on my own once the kid's at school."

"Thanks as always, Anton. I'll see you this afternoon, then."

Volkov nodded. He watched Will and Angie get into the car, then turned and headed back toward the house. He had only taken a few steps when the car exploded.

***

Volkov felt the heat from the blast behind him as he was lifted off his feet. By the time the sound reached him, his mind was already telling him to get his gun. Staggering to his feet, he turned around and limped toward the car. 

God, Will. Angie.

They never had a chance.

Before he could cry out in rage and pain, he saw the two women walking towards him from across the street with guns raised. They'd already started shooting, and he felt two bullets hit him in the gut before he could raise his gun and return fire. He had the satisfaction of seeing one of them go down before he was overwhelmed by the pain, forcing himself back toward the house. 

Malcolm had already opened the door, and Volkov grabbed his arm and dragged him inside as more gunshots rang out. He ignored the boy's screams for now. There was nothing to be done. Will and Angie were dead- he had failed them. And if his instinct and his small knowledge of medicine was correct, then he was a dead man walking. Maybe there could be a long surgery, but what would be the point? 

Making their way out the backdoor and through the neighbor's yard, Volkov smashed the car window as he tossed Malcolm into the passenger seat. 

"Keep your head down," he grunted to Malcolm. Volkov hotwired the car as quickly as he could, but more gunshots smashed the rear window. The boy screamed. The engine roared to life and the car lurched forward as Volkov took another bullet. At least this one was in the arm. He was starting to feel cold. 

"-om and Dad?! Uncle Anton! Where's Mom and Dad?!"

Volkov tried to focus on the conversation as he drove. He lifted his hand from his side. Too much blood.

"Malcolm, they are gone. I'm sorry. Someone bad hurt them, and I didn't protect them."

"Gone? Do you mean DEAD?"

"Yes."

The boy was quiet for a long time. Volkov focused on driving as best he could, but the coldness seemed to be spreading. 

"Uncle Anton..."

"Mmmh?"

"You're bleeding."

"I know."

"Are you dying too?"

"I... yes."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Your aunt Rora."

"The criminal?"

"Right now, she's the only one who can protect you. If I bring you anywhere else, they might come for you and hurt you as a way to get to her."

"Why did this happen?"

"Listen to me, Malcolm. We're almost there. Your father and mother, they were good people. Your father was trying to stop bad people, and I wanted to help him do it. But this world we're in... I think he was always doomed to fail. But that doesn't take away his goodness. It might even make it better. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"Take out your backpack. Write down these letters for me, okay?"

"C-A-R space. B-O-M-B space. H-I-D-D-E-N space. Underline that last word a few times. N-E-W space. M-O-D-E-L space. N-O-T- space. V-I-S-I-B-L-E.

New line.

T-W-O space. W-O-M-E-N space. K-I-L-L-E-R-S.

New line.

I-M space. S-O-R-R-Y space."

"Uncle Anton, why are-?"

"Just write it, kiddo. Please."

"Okay, I did."

"Now a phone number: 555-9653. Your aunt and uncle's house. No time for anything else, we're here."

Pulling over the side of the road in the fire lane, Volkov walked as quick as he could to the ticket booth.

"When does the next train leave for New York?"

"Two minutes, sir. You can catch it if you hurry!"

"Perfect. Two, please."

After they walked away, Volkov, laboring, knelt down and handed the tickets to Malcolm.

"You need to leave now, to be safe. Go to your family, and they will take care of you. I will try to call ahead so they know to meet you, but if they aren't there, then you'll have to call them yourself."

Malcolm threw his arms around his uncle. Anton took a deep breath and savored it before he pushed the boy away.

"Run. Now."

"What if they catch up with me?"

"They won't. Now go."

As Volkov limped toward the phone, he left a trail of blood that was beginning to draw attention from the crowd. He watched over his shoulder as the boy ran into the train. Shortly after, the doors closed and it pulled out of the station. 

Volkov slipped a coin in the phone and dialed the number, leaning his forehead against the payphone wall for support.

"Billy? It's Volkov. Something happened. Car bomb. Something new. Not visible. Will and Angie are dead, I'm dying. He's safe. I just put him on the train. 8:25 train to New York. Be there to meet it."

A fast-moving car screeched to a halt in front of the station.

"Two women did this. Take care of him. Take care of all of them. Gotta go"

Over the phone, there was the sound of gunshots and screams, and a grunt, followed by a long silence.

"Giocarlo Mattaranzi sends his regards."

With a click, the line died.