Three days later, as the transport plane carrying Jack and Bryan landed at Edwards Air Force Base in California, Anna was facing what could have been her final moment.
"You can still use your first name. There are Annas everywhere. But you should probably change your last name," said a commanding woman as she handed Anna a dossier.
If Jack were here, he'd probably be surprised to see yet another familiar face. The woman standing before Anna, clad in a general's uniform, was none other than Catherine Zeta-Jones—though in this reality, she was General Katya Petrovna, the very woman Frank had previously mentioned.
Seeing the lingering doubt in Anna's eyes, the general opened the FSB database right in front of her and typed in Anna's old name.
A large "No Results Found" message popped up on the screen.
Anna suddenly felt like all the strength had drained from her body, and she collapsed into a chair.
"Believe me," Katya said, a trace of envy flashing briefly in her eyes before she masked it. "Erasing you from the FSB's records was a lot more trouble than just killing you." She then handed Anna a passport.
"The eastern country has recently introduced a 144-hour visa-free transit policy. You could visit the southernmost island. I hear the scenery there rivals Hawaii."
Anna clutched the dossier tightly, as if only now truly realizing she was free. Instead of responding to the general's suggestion, she murmured, "Am I really that skinny? I heard the food there is amazing. Maybe I should put on some weight."
Katya Petrovna frowned slightly. "Then you might as well find someone to marry there. Or better yet, have a child."
—
Jack spent two days in Los Angeles, mainly discussing the formation of a security division with Chris and, incidentally, enjoying some quality time with Zoey.
Maureen, who usually stuck to Zoey like glue, had gone to San Francisco for a medical conference, giving them some rare time alone together.
But during dinner, the city councilwoman seemed a bit distracted, as if something was on her mind.
"Something bothering you?" Jack asked, massaging her toes through her stockings after clearing the table.
"No, it's just… I realized that, without me noticing, my little man has turned into a big hero." Zoey wrapped her arms around his neck, her breath warm with the scent of cognac.
They had just shared a bottle of Napoleon Cognac from France, and she had drunk a bit too much. A rosy flush spread from her cheeks down to her neck.
Jack frowned at the silly woman in his arms and sighed. "If you don't want to continue in politics, just quit. I know how exhausting it is dealing with those fat, greedy politicians. You didn't always have to put on a fake smile in high heels every day."
Zoey chuckled and shook her head. "You think I didn't have to deal with politics when I was at the police department? Once I became commissioner, I rarely had time to be on the front lines. I had to wear heels most of the time anyway."
She nestled into his arms, making it easier for him to continue his mischief. "Your little empire is expanding too quickly. When I was in Washington, people started asking me who was really behind 'Shangri-La'."
Jack wasn't particularly surprised. "That was expected. Didn't we already prepare for this? California has Hollywood and Silicon Valley, giving us all the resources we need. There's no need to rush things."
"You're being too optimistic. Do you know how many powerful forces are secretly eyeing Hollywood? Lately, whenever Maureen and I are in Washington, congressmen and senators are all smiles around us."
Zoey's flush deepened, spreading across her entire body. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice.
Jack reluctantly lifted his head from her chest and smirked. "Maybe they're just captivated by two beautiful women?"
Zoey playfully smacked him. "You're half right. One of them is after both money and beauty—your Professor Cahill had better watch out."
Jack finally caught on and groaned, scooping her up from the couch. "So you're telling me we're discussing politics at a time like this? And don't tell me you're going to give a campaign speech in bed later?"
"Maybe because you haven't been giving us enough of your time lately," Zoey giggled, tightening her arms around his neck.
—
Politics had changed the way women expressed their grievances. Zoey was, in her own way, apologizing for the difficulties Chris had been facing.
None of this was unexpected. The Anderson family didn't have absolute control over California, let alone the multinational corporations that dominated Hollywood.
Fortunately, the biggest financial issues had been temporarily resolved. While "Shangri-La" was growing fast, it was still relatively small, meaning the challenges they faced were limited to minor tests of their defenses—nothing they couldn't handle.
Jack's proposal to Chris about forming a security division was timely. The initial probes against them had been dirty, and Bryan was an expert at handling such threats.
But Jack had also unknowingly gained a new competitor—Zoey's "money and beauty-seeking" senator.
After returning to New York, Jack looked up this Malcolm Lavoie and discovered that the senator was also from California. At just under fifty, he occupied one of the state's two Senate seats.
Jack couldn't help but imagine the possibilities. If I got rid of this guy, wouldn't Zoey be in a prime position to take his place?
Unfortunately, he had just made headlines in Paris and pissed off the Russian intelligence community. It wasn't the best time to make waves.
In the U.S., being a senator was far safer than being the president. Assassinating one and getting away with it would be no small feat.
Besides, Lavoie wasn't a particularly ideological politician. He never took strong stances and was solely focused on making money. In Washington, people called him "The Paper Bag"—because he was always ready to take cash in exchange for favors.
A guy like that had almost no political enemies. Pinning an assassination on a rival was out of the question unless they could find a crazed gunman. They simply didn't have the resources for that yet. And since there was no immediate urgency, Jack decided to shelve the idea.
—
Frank, meanwhile, had seemingly vanished again, leaving Castle rather disappointed.
Castle hadn't expected his parents to rekindle a decades-old romance, but he had at least hoped to reconnect with his spy father and make up for lost time.
One day, Jack delivered a book to him—Casino Royale by Ian Fleming. That seemed to ease his frustration somewhat.
Jack hadn't seen Frank either. The book had been sent to him by Old Hunter, along with a discreet message: the Paris situation was officially over.
Vasilev's position had been taken over by Frank's old flame, Katya Petrovna. Anna and another agent, Chenkov, had been "dealt with."
Of course, Anna's death had been faked, while Chenkov had been turned into Swiss cheese by a firing squad.
In retaliation, the FSB wiped out an entire CIA team in Paris. The assassination squad, from the head of operations down to the office janitors, was eliminated.
Ironically, the CIA team hadn't even been guilty. They had been the same agents who, in the original timeline, had planned Vasilev's assassination—the same ones who had pressured Anna into becoming a double agent. Their director had died not even realizing he had been a scapegoat.
Anna had reportedly gone to an Eastern country for recovery and minor cosmetic surgery. Since she had been a well-known model in Paris, changing her appearance was necessary if she planned to move to the U.S. in the future.
Jack wasn't in a hurry. If Anna had any sense, she would realize that sticking with him was her safest option—unless she truly wanted to disappear and live a quiet life as someone's wife.
—
As Thanksgiving approached, Jack had a new headache: Where to spend Christmas?
Alexis had no interest in Paris anymore. Even Europe was off the table for the time being.
The options had been narrowed down to two: a survival adventure on a deserted island or sunbathing in Hawaii.
The first option came from Hannah, who was obsessed with a survival reality show.
Jack was still debating how to explain a Hawaiian vacation with both Hannah and JJ when Stella Bonasera, now heading CSI New York, showed up at his doorstep.
"How do you manage to live like a hermit in such a busy city?" she asked, watching Jack in his cowboy hat, harvesting vegetables with a sickle in his backyard.
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