Carter's Duty - 1. Chapter 1

June 13th 2003

So much for life. Open defiance was his only recourse after being backstabbed so many times he could no longer feel the pain. Will lifted the cup of coffee, almost forgotten in his hand, and toasted the world. He downed the cup in a single fluid motion and felt the warm liquid slide down his throat to warm his insides. He would go on, as always; survival was the one thing he excelled at.

Will turned his back on the city; he said a silent goodbye as he re-entered his home, and within minutes his bags were packed and he was ready to leave. And as he held them he took a final glance around the bedroom and all the memories it held. He had closed the book on the love he had shared there; he would have to move on.

He climbed down the stairs and walked into the study, his only sanctum during the storm, taking the time to stare with hatred at the papers that littered about his desk. All the time, all the work he had invested just to succeed. He felt a sudden stab of rage and swore as he gathered the papers together, swept them into the small woodstove and tossed the match in afterwards. One last act of defiance against the company that he had given so much to and that had taken so much more, but he would deny them the final victory. He sat for awhile and watched the flames flare up over the paper, the steady rhythm of the clock over the mantle counted down the time until he was due to leave.

He picked up the phone and made a quick call to his assistant Alicia, to ask her for a drive to the airport: he couldn't face friends that morning, and he knew that Alicia would gladly accept a chance to say goodbye to the one boss she actually enjoyed working for. He stopped a moment in the hall and looked around him. He was lucky, his friend Jared had agreed to deal with the house and any belongings that could not be taken; it was one less burden for Will to deal with. And he shivered involuntarily; there was no point to remain there and, with a self-satisfied nod, stepped out of his house for the last time. His hand reached out to pull the door shut behind him.

The drive to the airport passed in silence. And, once he could check his luggage they were able to sit awhile in the airport bar. He turned the tasteless drink around in his nerveless fingers as he said goodbye to a life he had reluctantly come to accept as his own.

"Look, Will," Alicia said as she watched him roll the glass between his thumb and forefinger, "it's not like you to just give up."

He set the glass down and glanced at the hands on his watch as they neared the last hour before his time in exile was to begin and he realized that the life that had been chosen for him was about to begin. A new home, leaving everything he knew behind him. His life was being gambled by other people and he hated it. He didn't want it, going halfway around the world meant nothing.

"I have a job to do," he replied as he picked up the glass again taking a slow drink; he felt old at that moment, ground beneath the weight of his thoughts.

Alicia sat across the table and tried to make conversation, to help to ease the moment with the kind of friendly support only fine Canadian Rye could provide. But the intensity of the last week that had led to that lone ticket back to London tucked into his passport had at last reached a climax, and they both accepted that this was probably their final drink together. Strangely neither felt sad at the parting, they both knew that it had been inevitable, and accepted it as such.

"Well at least in London people will be polite when they hang up on you..." Alicia joked at the expense of the company both had been exploited by, and the memories of a shared camaraderie, tempered by the closeness they had enjoyed, lightened the mood of the pair.

Will looked up and around him, the comfortable airport bar afforded a view of the different people who arrived and departed from the airport that was a gateway to different cultures. And Will remembered back to when he had been a stranger who had stood upon Canadian soil for the first time. Now when he sat there, made wise by experience and no longer a stranger, it felt as though he was about to complete a journey he had started so many years before.

"I should go to the departure lounge," he said after a minute or two of silence passed between them.

She looked sadly up at the clock, "I'm going to miss you Will..."

He smiled, "My friends just call me Carter. " He extended his hand to her and when she took it he drew her close into a tight embrace, "Take care of yourself Ali."

She grinned at the nickname he had given her, "You too... don't be a stranger, stay in touch."

The time for departures had arrived and they walked together towards the gate. A final joke, the solemn promise to stay in touch, one last goodbye, and Will stepped into the departure lounge, to shed his old identity as he did so. Perhaps he had existed the last seven years with the hope of that moment. The realization of the immensity of what was unfolding lightened his heart; finally he stood in control of his own destiny and he could at last understand the freedom he had fought so hard to gain. But at what cost?

The nearly deserted flight lounge offered a chance for relaxation after all the stress of leaving who he was behind. Here he could lower his guard, the fear that had hunted him so ruthlessly would shortly fade into memory.

Will glanced at his watch. He traced the passage of time as the hands drew ever closer to the final minutes there. There, in between identities, between lives, he relaxed and reflected on how much time had changed the man he was. The hard shell he had locked his emotions behind opened briefly and he allowed the knowledge that his life was about to change set in. He had come so far in such a short time; there he stood on the edge of the future, at last free of all the constraints and imposed limits that had bound him so tightly to a false sense of duty. He stood on the edge of his world and stared out across the void to what lay beyond. A bright beacon of hope shone in the darkness, it shone its light upon the passage that led him onwards to his own destiny. He took solace in it; he had been betrayed, but at least he could take comfort in the knowledge that he would make the most of the chance to start over.

The boarding call went out, and the passengers rose and walked towards the plane. On the watch face, the hands met and his time in exile was over. As Will got up to board the plane the tensions of those long, past weeks faded, and he felt reassured with the sense of hope that was his guide. The rapid events that had led him up to that moment had perhaps passed too quickly. Being swept along in the tide of events he had no control over...He passed through the doors and handed his boarding pass across to the stewardess and dispelled that first seed of doubt; no, it was not the time for doubts.

"Don't go!"