54. We Salute You

April, 2010

"Capitaine, you have an urgent message from Vice-Amiral Evrard."

Stephane Tissot sighed. Since being ordered away from port and into a wild goose chase involving two innocuous looking cargo ships, he'd grown to dread more orders from headquarters. His crew was tired. They'd deserved to be able to make port and relax, as they'd planned.

This was torture, this sitting and waiting for something to happen. He wasn't even sure what it was the cargo ships were supposed to do. He was to just watch them and try and figure out where they were going. Well, they were going east. There. Done.

Not.

"Oui, I'll take it in my quarters." Trudging back to his cabin, he failed to appreciate the beautiful dawn sky. The forecast predicted another clear, hot day. Yet Tissot had no eyes for the natural wonders around him. His weary head just wanted whatever this mission was supposed to accomplish to be done and over with so that they could turn back for Papeete.

Unfortunately, he had a feeling of dread that wasn't easily suppressed. Long ago he'd learned to trust his gut instinct—a trust repaid over and over as he learned to survive the capricious whims of the ocean. These days his gut was roiling in response to any news from headquarters. It was not likely to be the orders he most wanted to see: come back to port. Thus, he wanted to be alone when he first read them. It would give him time to come to terms with whatever they had to do before having to present it to his men.

Once he reached the privacy of his cabin, he first poured himself a stiff brandy. He wasn't technically on duty—his watch had been over thirty minutes ago. He'd just stayed on the bridge for a while, not having much else to do and too keyed up to sleep.

Deciding he couldn't avoid it further, he tore open the message. He read it once, then two more times. It was short and to the point. Crumpling the message in his hands, he hurled it across the small space. For the first time in his career, he began to seriously consider retirement from the Navy that he loved.

"Jim!"

"Martha!"

Afaitu smiled as the two old friends hugged each other. It was now mid-morning. Martha had been delayed by a phone call from Celeste—a press briefing that they'd been working on in the U.S. for a few days now. Jim had taken advantage and checked into his hotel room. He'd selected a different hotel from Martha and Rick, figuring it might disguise his presence from the press for a few more days, if they were lucky.

They'd finally been able to meet at a small diner set near Martha's hotel, yet off the normal tourist beat. There wasn't much business between breakfast and lunch, so Afaitu figured it would be a perfect place to meet. Anyone following them would be very obvious, and he knew that Grollet was aware that Jim was here—it was an obvious conclusion after the grilling at the airport given to the older man.

Settling into the small booth, he sat alone while the other two greeted each other. They seemed lost to his presence, initially. It hadn't been long since they'd last seen one another, but so much had changed between them in a short time span.

"Can you believe it, Jim? We have a grandchild." Martha's hands were trembling, as she reached out and patted Jim on his shoulder. She seemed to need the reassurance that touching her friend gave her.

"No, Martha, I can't. It's hard to take in. First, not knowing if Katie is ok, and now that she's a mother? It's difficult to comprehend." Jim captured one of her hands and grasped it tightly in his. His hands were steady, but Afaitu could hear the emotion trembling in his voice.

"I never thought I'd have my son back, let alone a grandchild. I simply cannot wait to hear that they're all safe and sound. I hope once we know everything is ok, that we can all meet someplace. Just family. We have so much catching up to do."

"I'm still trying to process it. I mean, I love Nicholas and Michael as if they're my own, but I met them when they were already grown. Their children are truly my grandchildren, but to be able to have a child of Katie's in my life…it's just surreal."

Martha wiped away the stray tears tracking down her cheeks. "I never imagined I'd have any moment like this. Not after being told my Richard was gone. He was all I had."

Jim embraced her again. "Now you not only have your son back, but a whole family waiting for you. You deserve so much, my friend."

Martha clung to him tightly, crying a bit harder. Afaitu watched it all with a lump in his throat and the feeling that he was a third wheel in this intimate exchange. He'd come to care a lot for Rick's mom. She'd been brilliant in her role to help him obtain Rick's release from jail. He just hoped that the entire family would be together soon for the first time in a decade. They all deserved so much more happiness than they'd received recently. He was just happy to play a role in their rescue and reunification.

"Ms. Harper, Ms. Harper!" Meredith stopped, turning naturally so that her left side—her best side—was displayed.

"Yes?"

"Hi, Kelsey Webb, from People magazine."

Meredith knew who she was. She'd walked past the reporter on purpose, confident of capturing her attention. What else newsworthy was going on, after all?

"Oh, yes, of course. How may I help you, Ms. Webb?"

"I was just wondering if you had time for some questions, or a quick interview?"

"Well, I was just going out for a bit…but I suppose I have time for a few questions," Meredith replied, fluffing her hair a bit with one hand. "Do you need pictures too? Oh, I'm just a mess this morning, I wasn't expecting to grant any interviews after all."

Kelsey just smiled. Both women knew that Meredith was lying through her whitened, brightened teeth. Her perfectly coordinated outfit, impeccably groomed hair and flawless makeup gave away the fiction. However, Meredith was selling a story, and Kelsey was buying, so neither cared to point out the truth.

"If you don't mind, I'll grab us a quiet table in the restaurant here. We can do the pictures afterwards?"

Meredith nodded and followed the reporter to a quiet area of the restaurant. She smirked to herself when she saw Paula and Gina gaping at her. She was certain that Paula, at least, knew exactly who she was with as she sashayed past their table.

'See how those bitches like that,' she thought, eager to answer anything the famous magazine's readers wanted to hear. This trip was turning out to be the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Rick thought about going to the bow of the ship. It had always been a favorite spot of his when he crewed on the Iriata. He loved the sound of the waves as the boat pushed through them, the salty tang of the sea spray, and the kiss of the sun on his skin as he sat to write whatever words came to him. It had been a place that was just his—the other crewmen only ventured to the bow when it was time to dock or to begin a new journey. He was alone with his thoughts—and being alone on a small ship was no easy feat.

These days, the bow had an entirely different meaning for him. No longer did he wish to be alone—he wanted to be with Kate and their family. Each wave overtaken was one tiny increment closer to her, to them. He would strain to see anything on the horizon from the bow—any sign at all that they were nearing their destination. But, he knew without going up there that they were still too far away.

Grollet had interfered in his life once again. His progress toward his family slowed inevitably by the very man who'd forced them there in the first place. There was no use going to the bow now—there would be little comfort to be sought from his former favorite spot. Instead, he went back to his cabin and lay down upon the small bed.

Once upon a time, he might have been annoyed by how small it was—his feet hung off the end, and it was far narrower than he would have preferred. Any discomfort had long been superseded by his ten years without a true mattress, followed by far less comfortable beds in the prison system. Now, his only concern about any bed he might inhabit was whether Kate would be able to join him.

'Soon. Soon, Kate. I'm coming.'

He knew he needed to rest. Or ought to try. The plan outlined by Loison was by turns simple and complex. It required much of Rick, and his knowledge of the sea surrounding Fenua Pari—whose real name was Tuaivi. Rick had learned all about his island when Ari'i had handed Loison the black glass square he'd brought to their meeting. It turned out to be a magical device they called a tablet. Loison had effortlessly pulled open a map program on the thing. The technology available now was mind boggling.

Ari'i had provided the name that the maps labeled their island. Tuaivi meant 'the slope of a mountain' in Tahitian. Considered to be part of the Gambier Islands, it was located south and east of the rest of the island grouping. It was amazing to see how far off course they'd been, as it was quite a way from Raivavae. Ari'i had heard of it, though never had seen it. It was isolated and considered inhospitable. He'd been shocked when he learned that it was far from barren, as most thought.

Knowing the real name of the island, Rick still couldn't bring himself to think of it as Tuaivi. He'd thought of it as Fenua Pari for so long, he couldn't bring himself to refer to it in any other fashion. It was the name he and Kate had made up, together. His home for so long, the place his children were born. The magical place that contained his future. His family. His entire happiness.

He lay quietly, reflecting on the many joys and special moments he'd witnessed while on that island. As he drifted off to sleep, he hoped that one of the greatest moments was yet to come…and that it would be occurring very, very soon.

"Did you see that two-bit floozy walk past us?" Paula sneered.

Gina nodded. "She looked pretty pleased with herself when she pranced by. Who was that with her?"

"Hmmph. That was Kelsey Webb. She freelances sometimes, but most of her stuff is for People. I'll bet you anything she's here to get dirt on Ricky for that mag."

"Well, People isn't the worst it could be. He's lucky it's not the National Enquirer."

Paula looked churlish. "Gina, ya don't really believe rags like the Enquirer would really bother to send a reporter here, do ya? They just make the shit up and print it without ever leavin' their office."

"Oh. Well, no—I guess I never really thought about it too much. Do you think we should try to keep a lid on Meredith? I mean, she doesn't strike me as one who sticks to the facts." Gina was worried. With Rick off doing whatever it was he was doing, Meredith seemed to have free rein to say anything she wished. While it was very likely to be far afield of the actual circumstances, her lies might cause some difficulties for Rick. And while she was his publisher, she was also his friend. Protection from the likes of Meredith Harper was the least she could do for him.

"Nah. Kelsey is a good reporter, as far as the entertainment ones go. She won't just publish anything without some sort of corroboration. And with Ricky off gallivanting around, doin' whatever it is he's doin', she'll have to come to us or Martha. We'll set her straight from any lies that red-haired tramp has tried to tell 'er."

Gina threw her napkin on her plate. "Let's get out of here then. My appetite has been ruined. Let's go for a walk; it looks like a nice day."

Paula agreed with alacrity. She'd been looking for a few interesting souvenirs for her boyfriend at home—something that said Tahiti, but wasn't too kitschy. She really liked Tony—maybe even loved him—and felt he needed something special.

They walked out of the hotel through a side door, avoiding the mass of reporters still hoping to capture a glimpse of Rick or his mother at the front. Picking a direction at random, Gina was happily window shopping with Paula when she heard the other woman gasp in shock. Turning to see what Paula was staring at, Gina saw the distinctive red hair of Martha Rodgers exiting a small diner just a few doors down the block.

"What is it, Paula?" Paula kept staring at the others, who were walking down the street now in the opposite direction from where they stood. Gina became more concerned something was very wrong when Paula remained quiet. In her experience, there were very few situations that rendered the woman silent. None of them likely to be good.

Glancing again at the retreating backs, she knew she recognized Martha—the woman was difficult to miss, with the red hair and…colorful…clothing. Rick's lawyer, Afaitu Tutomo, was with them. And a third man, an older gentleman with silver hair and a refined air accompanied him. She didn't recognize him.

"Is that man another reporter? Is that what's got you worried?"

Paula still stared after them, rooted to the spot. Fear flooded Gina's veins, released in an instant as Paula slowly shook her head.

"No, no. That's no reporter," she said. Gina couldn't help but notice her accent was much less apparent when she spoke softly and slowly. "That was Jim Beckett, I'm sure of it."

Gina didn't recognize the name, though it seemed familiar. When Paula remained quiet once more, she tried prompting her for more information.

"Who's Jim Beckett? If he's not a reporter, what is he doing with Martha and Rick's lawyer? What's the matter?" The last was said in a rushed fashion. Paula's reaction to the sight of the three exiting the diner was scaring her. She didn't like being scared, especially when she didn't know what to be scared about. Gina liked to be in control, and if you had control of a situation then there was nothing to be scared of.

"He's Martha Rodgers' agent. Or one of them. He and his wife have a good sized agency, and represent quite a few big names on Broadway."

"Okay. So what? Why does having her agent here make you so," she waved her hands at the other woman, "so…weird. So not…Paula." It was the best description she could think of. This quiet, contemplative person was not the Paula Haas that she knew.

"I'm just really shocked to see him here. If Martha needed her agent, which she really doesn't, I would have thought it would have been Celeste, his wife, that would come."

"Maybe this Celeste was busy. What does it matter? She's a two time Academy Award winning actress, for goodness sakes. Who knows what a person like that would require? Maybe she wanted her agent here to keep the paparazzi at bay. I don't see any reason for concern."

Paula turned to look fully at her, now that the others had disappeared from view. Concern radiated from her eyes. Gina didn't think she'd ever seen such emotion in the other woman, in all her years of dealing with her. "You don't understand. Jim Beckett is the last person anyone would expect to be here."

"Why? Is he afraid to fly? Hates beautiful islands? Allergic to coconuts? You're blowing this out of proportion, Paula."

"Gina, he's not just Martha Rodgers' manager. His daughter was Katherine Beckett."

"She…was…Katherine Beckett," Gina repeated slowly. The name was very familiar to her, though she still couldn't quite place it.

"Yes. Kate Beckett," Paula said, observing Gina closely for signs of recognition. She saw the blonde woman turn even paler when the moment finally hit.

"You mean—you mean the..," she trailed off. Paula answered for her.

"Yes. The woman who supposedly died with Ricky all those years ago. Only now, we know that Ricky is alive and well. And now Kate Beckett's dad is wandering around Tahiti with Ricky's mom and his lawyer. While Ricky has disappeared, but not before promising us an incredible story if we helped him."

Gina swiveled on her heel, nearly breaking it in her haste to be moving.

"Wait, where are you going?" Paula called after her, confused by the abrupt change in her friend.

"I have to make some calls. Right now," she yelled, striding rapidly away. Paula just stood dumbfounded, watching, until she realized she was quickly being left behind. Jogging after Gina, she wondered who in the world needed to know about their suspicions about Kate Beckett. And why they needed to know right this second.

It was late afternoon by the time Jim made it back to his hotel. After breakfast, he, Martha and Afaitu had gone over what was left of their plan once more. There was no way to know what was happening out on the water, so they just had to believe that everything was fine. Jim had never wanted to put his faith in anything or anyone more than he wanted to with Richard. Katie's life and the life of their child depended on him.

He felt a bit helpless, even though he was now much closer to the action than he had been while in New York. He and Afaitu had spent their time after leaving Martha by calling the U.S. Consulate in Fiji. Again.

Afaitu had tried dealing with them the day before. It was very frustrating, as there was no one to speak to directly. It was all too easy for faceless bureaucrats to pass the buck. However, Jim felt they'd made some progress. It was complicated by the fact that Richard wasn't present to speak for himself, and their excuses as to why he was missing for two days in a row sounded hollow even to Jim.

However, they'd caught a break. Due to Richard's celebrity status (and likely helped by Martha's fame as well), the consulate had decided to send some people over to Tahiti to deal with Richard directly. Jim and Afaitu had asked them to wait for three or four days, hoping that they would be able to actually present Richard to the consulate team. And, of course, Katie too. Though they hadn't breathed a word about her. Too soon.

Martha had left them to go shopping. Ostensibly for her and her friends back home, but Jim suspected that were he to look in her bags this evening, he might find some toys and perhaps even clothes for children. He hoped she'd been discreet; toys were easily explained. Clothing, not as easily, though he could claim it was for his grandchildren. And hope no one here knew his oldest—known—grandchild was just 3 years old. He had a feeling the clothes might be much larger than that age would merit.

He tried to relax; it was no matter at this point. Grollet was out there, looking for Katie. So were Richard and the men that they'd entrusted to this incredible saga. Nothing he and Martha did at this point from so far away would affect the outcome. At least that's what he hoped.

Lying on the bed, he dialed his house and waited for the call to be routed through all the international networks before he heard it ringing. Celeste picked up before he'd heard it ring more than two times.

"Jim?"

"Yeah, it's me. How's it going over there?"

"Ok. How was your flight?"

"Long. Uneventful. Though I got hassled a bit at the airport after I landed."

"Was it bad?"

"No, just annoying. And I'm sure my being here was tipped to Grollet immediately."

"Oh, no! What did you do?"

"Nothing. Afaitu wasn't surprised. He said there's nothing for it at this point. Plus, Grollet is already out there searching, so my being here doesn't really change that aspect of it."

"I guess that makes sense."

"How was your day?"

"I went to Martha's bank and got the copy of Richard's birth certificate. She had kept a few other papers related to his life and death in there as well, so I copied those too."

"Great." He explained their plans with the consulate team that would be arriving in Tahiti later that week. He already had copies of the same papers for Katie; he just hadn't had time to go retrieve the relevant documents from Martha's safety deposit box before his rushed trip here.

"The discussion with the media people you contacted went well. They've agreed to work with the AFP footage; they have a relationship with them from previous stories and it seems like it's all a go."

"Are they aware of the timing?"

"You mean lack thereof?" His wife's laugh tinkled across the globe and into his ear, warming his heart. She was such a rock for him. "Yes, they're aware of the constraints of the timing. To be honest, they're excited about what I was able to tell them. We're lucky it's not sweeps* month, or it might have been a different reaction."

"Maybe. Though this is going to be a huge story for them." Jim grimaced. Katie would be livid. At least the Katie he used to know. She was a very private person, and would not welcome the attention this would bring her. It was, however, entirely necessary.

"Oh, and I did have a strange call today. A woman was looking for you. She said her name was…Elaine? No, that's not right. Hang on a second—I wrote it down in the other room."

Jim wondered who was calling for him. He didn't know any Elaines, but being in the orbit of Martha Rodgers meant you were contacted quite frequently by people you didn't know. It had become almost second nature for him to rapidly determine if they were someone he needed to speak to or not.

"Ok, I'm back. Here it is. A Lanie Parrish called. She said it was urgent."

Jim felt his stomach drop. He hadn't spoken to Lanie in years…not since the trials. Though, he supposed it made sense that she'd be curious about his reaction to Richard being found alive.

His silence at the name concerned Celeste enough to prompt him further.

"Who is she?"

"She was Katie's friend, before Johanna's murder. She's the one who convinced Katie to take the trip."

"Oh. Her name sounds quite familiar to me, but I don't think I knew that detail."

"You probably recognize it from the trials. She became a medical examiner, married a cop. They were at the periphery of the investigation, but she made sure I was kept informed. Even when I was in rehab and no one but Martha seemed to think I had anything to contribute, Lanie always tried to let me know what was happening."

"Wow. And now she's certainly seen the news about Richard."

"Yes. What do you want to bet that she's now wondering about Katie?"

"I'm sure she is, Jim. It would be the natural thing to do."

"Let's just hope and pray we have good news for her, eventually."

"Do you want me to call her back? Tell her anything?"

"No. I don't think we should tip our hand early. Plus, what if something were to happen before she's safe? I can't take that risk. Lanie can find out like the rest of the world—from her TV. I just hope it's in a few days."

They hung up a few minutes later, Jim reassuring Celeste that she could fly out once Katie was safe and they had a better idea about what needed to happen next, in order to get them both back to the States. He felt a bit guilty about Lanie; she had been so kind to him in those years past. However, he felt she'd understand once she knew the stakes. His focus was his baby girl and her family. Lanie and the rest of the world would have to wait. Getting Katie and Richard to safety was the priority of everyone who loved them.

*Sweeps refers to the Nielsen ratings of TV programs in the United States. Certain months are called 'sweeps months' because the networks know those are the months that data is collected. The networks always try to have their best shows on during those times: November, February and May.