CIA Agent? Piece Of Cake.

Doing Time At The Hospital

NATHAN'S POV:

This was just freaking great. Due to the injury that I suffered when I was a hostage in Sheeman and Franco's hands, I had to be hospitalized. I was still recovering from my experience of being tortured by a professional surgeon. And survived!

Dave was in a worse shape. His back was, actually. The doctors managed to patch his back up, and so now he was bandaged, recovering fast. The side effect was that there will be a lot of scars on his back.

We were sharing the same room in the hospital, at the request of the Director of the CIA, Phillip Townsend.

Isabelle and Cheymayne were sitting in between our beds, talking to us.

"Townsend is coming," Cheymayne told us. "He wants to say something."

"What could he possibly want to say?" I muttered.

Dave had a faraway look in his eyes, as though he was thinking something out.

"Bro," I said, startling him. "What 'cha thinking about?"

Dave didn't answer. Cheymayne gave him a nudge.

"Remember Sheeman was saying something about a contact in the Agency?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I think I know who it is-"

At that moment, the door opened and Director of the CIA, Phillip Townsend came in. He was wearing a brown striped suit, with a red shirt and white spotted tie. The coat was unbuttoned.

"Agents," he said, nodding at all of us. He took a chair and slid it to the middle of our beds. Cheymayne and Isabelle moved their chairs so that their backs faced the wall. Cheymayne sat beside Dave while my sister sat beside me.

"How are you doing, Phillip?" Dave asked, using his first name, which was surprising. He normally called him Townsend in a formal manner. Now it was as though they were good friends. I couldn't read Dave's face.

"I'm fine," Townsend replied, "but let's not talk about me. How is your back?"

Dave chuckled, "You make me sound as though I'm an old man. My back's okay, speedy recovery. Docs figure me to be out in a month, so you don't lose your agent, Phillip."

"I'm okay," I said to Townsend. "I'll be out in about one or two weeks."

Surprisingly, Townsend smiled at me. "Don't push your luck, my friend," he said warmly. "Let nature do its work."

"You wanted to tell us something?" Cheymayne reminded Townsend, a wary look in her eye. Not you too, Cheymayne.

"Yes." Townsend crossed his leg. He took out a ring, a diamond ring.

"What is that?" I asked.

Townsend handed it to Isabelle. She stared at it for a moment. "This looks familiar," she frowned.

"It's Gonzales', or should I say, Sheeman's ring," Townsend explained.

"This whole mission," I muttered, "you had something to do with it from the beginning, didn't you Phil?"

Townsend nodded, smiling proudly. "I knew you would find out sooner or later," he said. "I left you a lot of clues."

"Why did you do it?" Dave said softly.

"I had no choice." He shook his head. "I should start with Sheeman's background." He took a deep breath, before beginning.

"When I had just become the CIA's Director, a death haunted me. I had sent Sheeman's father, a brilliant agent undercover in the organization Scorpia. Scorpia found out, and they killed Darren Sheeman."