Cards didn’t really last much longer after that; everyone was pretty much too drunk to even go through the motions. Even James, who had in no way stopped after one drink. I had never actually seen him drink before, though we had attended many work functions together. Not even a single glass of wine. He was always very cognizant of his role as the boss and very careful to keep a respectful distance. That he wasn’t, tonight, told me that I was right, this was wearing on him as much as it was me. That was somehow comforting and concerning at the same time. Everyone had drifted away from the card table, forming smaller groups throughout the room; I pulled up a crate next to James,

“How are you doing?”

“Fucking fabulous,” he chuckled, gazing pensively into his glass.

“Yeah, me too,” I laughed.

“You are doing pretty well,” he smiled. “All things considered. It isn’t how I wanted you to get your start in this.”

“In what?”

“In all this,” he gestured vaguely around the room. “But we never did have the talk, did we?” he swirled the amber liquid in his glass.

“The talk?”

“I have it with every young agent, at some point, you know? The talk about what they really want to do with their life. I mean, most people don’t work here forever. We recruit people from a very small pool, out of necessity. They serve, but this isn’t the life most of them planned for themselves. Eventually, they want to move on, pursue their true passions. And I tell them that it is alright. Everyone understands. I give them my blessing.”

“Really? I didn’t know.”

“That’s because I never had that talk with you. Never intended to. You aren’t just serving because you were needed. You were meant for this. Like me. That is a rare thing. So, I had another talk in mind for you. But it was hard to find the right time.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because, as you are seeing now, it isn’t an easy thing to ask of someone. To lead. To make the tough decisions. To put your people at risk for the greater good.”

“You mean…”

“I wanted to ask you to do my job. Not right away, of course,” he laughed. “I’m not that old. But no one can do this forever. Someday, I was hoping you would take over for me.”

“Me?” I swallowed hard, doubting it was just the whisky that was making me nauseous.

“Who else? Someone needs to do it.”

“Maybe not for long. I doubt the Organization is going to survive this.”

“Even if that is true, there will still be need for people like you and me. Someone has to mediate between the two sides. Keep them from killing each other. That won’t change.”

“It wouldn’t upset me if it did.”

“Me neither, but that isn’t the world we live in, is it?”

“Someday, perhaps.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, in your lifetime.”

We sat in silence for a moment before I turned to him,

“You know, I never asked you, how do you cope?”

“What?”

“Earlier, you said I needed a healthier coping mechanism. So, what’s yours? How do you handle the burdens of command?”

He drained his drink and placed the empty glass on the crate before regarding me gravely,

“I keep a garden.”

“Seriously?”

“Why not? It is very relaxing, and I like… nurturing new life. Feels like it balances things out, in a way. I’ll have to invite you over to see it, sometime. My roses came in very nicely this year.”

“I’d like that,” I shook my head, you think you know a guy.

“Now,” he rose from the crate. “I think I am going to go pass out for a while. Goodnight, Rayna.”

“Night, boss.”

James stumbled off to find a cot and I tipped my head back to look at the ceiling, and watched the beams dance overhead.

I had been pretty certain that I just closed my eyes for a moment, but when I opened them next the beams were slashed with sunlight, filtering in through the grimy windows. Grimacing, I straightened my neck and massaged it with my hand. Falling asleep in that position had not been good for my tenderized vertebrae. Were anyone to ask, I wouldn’t recommend getting into a car crash and getting thrown down a flight of stairs in the same week. Though, for some reason, people rarely asked things like that. Despite the stiffness, the smell of fresh bacon and coffee lured me upright and into the kitchen.

“I didn’t expect to see you up so early,” I leaned on the table, watching James fry bacon on a hotplate.

“Yes, well,” he blushed slightly. “I actually was hoping to talk to you before the others joined us. To apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“What I said to you last night. That was an important conversation, and you deserved better than having me blurt it out while drunk off my ass. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was a talk that was probably improved by a few drinks, honestly.”

“I know it isn’t an easy thing to think about, especially now. But I hope, when all this is over, you will give it some thought. If you want to talk…”

“Yeah, thanks. Maybe if we survive this.”

“Understood,” he smiled softly. “Consider the subject dropped. For now. Bacon?”

“God, yes.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

I had already finished eating by the time the rest of the crew trickled in. James just smiled and resumed cooking. Simon took the seat beside me.

“You look awful,” I observed.

“Yeah, shouldn’t have had that second beer,” he groaned.

I stifled a chuckle. It would have been rude.

“I am going to go see how Jessica and the others are doing,” I rose from the table.

“I’ll come too,” he leapt up. “I’m not eating, anyway.”

“Alright, come on,” I was still of two minds about my new shadow, but it was probably best to keep him occupied, and he was the one with real medical training.

Of the six rescued agents, 3 had been injured escaping, one broke an ankle on the stairs and two suffered relatively minor gunshot wounds. They were resting, but not in serious danger. All three thanked me for getting them out, but I wasn’t much in the mood for thanks. They got themselves out. I barely participated. I moved on quickly. Jessica was being kept separate from the others in a small room that was probably once a manager’s office. The man guarding the door nodded to me as we arrived.

“She awake?”

“Oh yeah. Been thrashing and screaming for us to let her out for hours. Orders are to leave her in there until she detoxes.”

I frowned,

“Orders from who?”

“Wallace.”

My frown transformed into a grimace. Wallace had been here long enough to know that it didn’t really work that way. Lust was chemical, but it was also psychological. Love was worse. If she was convinced that she was in love with Carmine, which she was, unless he was a complete idiot, simply keeping them apart and waiting for her to snap out of it wouldn’t work. More likely than not, it would just deepen her opinion that we were the enemy and Carmine was her one true love, Romeo and Juliet style. We had to make her see that this wasn’t anything more than a manipulation. And that wasn’t always easy. Ask anyone with a friend in a toxic relationship.

“I’m going in to talk to her.”

“Wallace said…”

“Wallace couldn’t find his ass with both hands. I’m in charge of this operation. She is my prisoner. I am going in.”

The guard, I think his name was Simms, considered this for a moment, then nodded,

“Fair point. This isn’t Wallace’s call to make. Go on in. Let me know if you need anything,” he opened the door and stood aside.

“Thanks.”

“Any time. It was good work you did yesterday, ma’am. Wallace spent the whole day taking bets that you wouldn’t make it back. I know who I’d rather take orders from.”

I nodded my thanks and stepped past him into the room, Simon followed quietly at my heels. Jessica was lying very still in the small cot, her hair sweaty and stuck to her face, the cuffs digging vivid red grooves into her ankles and wrists. Upon hearing our entrance, her demeanor changed, she began thrashing and twisting, shouting to be let free.

“You can’t do this! They’ll come for me!”

I sighed, this was going to get unpleasant.

“I am sure they would. But then again, if they knew where we were, they’d come for us anyway, so that isn’t really an increased threat.”

She swivelled her head around at the sound of my voice,

“You!” the venom in her tone stung, but I ignored it. “They told me you turned, but I didn’t believe it. Then you drug me. You abduct me. You can’t keep me here.”

“Huh, that’s funny.”

“What?”

“I’ll bet those are the same things the men and women you experimented on said to you. You drugged me, you abducted me, you can’t keep me here, I thought you were on our side. Traitor. Sound familiar?”

She winced like I had slapped her, I just stared her down. I wasn’t planning to pull any punches here. This was less a friendly conversation and more an intervention. Confrontation was necessary.

“I was trying to help them. You have set my work back by…”

“Your work? You are a coroner. They were not dead. What work could you be talking about?”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t. How about you explain it to me?”

“I was helping them. If you untie me, I can help you, too.”

“I don’t see that happening. How about you explain with words?”

She didn’t respond.

“How about I start the explanation, then? They told you we were being manipulated. That you could help bring us back to the light. You weren’t sure, at first, but Carmine convinced you to trust him, because you two are desperately in love and he would never lie to you. That about sum it up?”

She pursed her lips,

“You mock it because you people don’t know what it is like to love. None of you know. But I can change that, I can fix you.”

That one hurt a little. She wasn’t the first person to suggest I needed ‘fixing’ because of the way I was, that I was defective in some way. But it hurt more coming from someone you considered a friend, someone you thought understood. I reminded myself that these weren’t really her thoughts. I couldn’t take it personally. Still, didn’t feel good, though.

“But you know all about love, don’t you? You have tons of experience.”

“Of course.”

“I mean, between Carmine and your husband, that is a lot of love you are spreading around.”

“My… husband?” she sounded confused for a moment.

“You know, Steve? Nice guy, worked hard to help you pay for med school, brings you special dinners whenever you work late? He’s been calling me, worried about you. You haven’t been home or spoken to him in days.”

“I’ve been busy…”

“With your new boyfriend.”

“We’re in love. It happens.”

“Does it? After working together for years, with no romantic feelings whatsoever. You just suddenly fell in love, and it has nothing to do with him being an incubus. Nothing to do with him needing you to run these experiments. With him manipulating you?”

“No. No. He loves me,” she closed her eyes and turned away, repeating it softly to herself over and over.

I swore. This was worse than I thought. Carmine had done a real number on her. This had taken time, patience, dedication. How long had he been working her? How long had I missed this? I hoped with intense fervor that he had made it out of that fire so I could kill him personally. I wanted to make sure it hurt. I looked down at Jessica, curled in on herself as much as she could be with the restraints. It was going to take time and hard work to pull her out of this. If it was even possible. I sighed, trying to decide what to do next. I jumped when I felt Simon’s hand on my shoulder. I had forgotten he was here.

“Do you mind if I… talk to her?” he asked softly.

“Talk or talk?” I wasn’t keen on him messing with her head any more than it had been already.

He hesitated for a moment,

“I think I can help her. Trust me?”

That was the real question, wasn’t it? Did I? Should I? At last, I nodded. He stepped forward and touched Jessica’s arm gently,

“Hello Jessica,” I felt the itch blossom at the base of my skull as he spoke. “I am a medic, I am here to help you. Can I get you anything? Water, food? Anything?”

She stopped mumbling and looked up at him,

“Could you loosen these cuffs?”

“Of course.”

I passed him the key and he bent down to unlock each of the restraints in turn.

“Who are you?” she rubbed her wrists.

“My name is Simon. I’m a friend.”

“A friend of hers?” she sneered at me.

“Of course,” his voice was gentle, sincere. “Aren’t you?”

“I was.”

“Why? What did you like about her?”

“She is brave and clever and kind. I knew she would protect me. And that was important. My job is frightening, sometimes,” she spoke quickly and almost dreamily, the itch in my skull intensified.

“Those sound like very fine traits. And I agree with you, she is all of those things. What about your husband? What did you see in him?”

“He is sweet and romantic. He always knows what to say to cheer me up. He puts up with my crazy work hours and my secrecy about it. He makes me pie for my birthday because he knows I hate cake. He claps when I sing in the shower, even though I can’t carry a tune. He makes me happy in ways I never thought I could be,” her eyes had taken on a faraway look.

“Then, why do you want to hurt them?” Simon asked softly.

Tears immediately filled her eyes and Jessica broke down into racking sobs. Simon put a hand on her shoulder, and she hugged her knees and cried. Silently, Simon motioned to the door and we both stepped outside, closing it behind us.

“What did you do?” I asked.

He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed,

“Well, she wanted to trust you. To believe you. I could tell that she loved her husband. It was just… muted by what this Carmine had done. I kind of… made her trust me, then reinforced what she already wanted to believe anyway.”

“Well, it did seem to help,” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Good work.”

He beamed, pleased to have been useful.

“It might take several more attempts to chip away at this, once she has had some time to process. Someone skilled has been working on her for awhile. And I don’t really do this sort of thing much.”

“No?”

“Of course not. We don’t force thoughts or even feelings on people. Not if we can help it. It is purely a defensive ability. Except for…”

“Rogues and addicts.”

“Right. Addicts have usually lost control. They need to feed, and they will do whatever they need to make that happen. And rogues, well they lack empathy. They don’t feel for others, so they don’t care what they need to do to get what they want. Most of us are very careful to avoid hurting another person. We feel it keenly, as if it was happening to us. Speaking of which,” he turned to me with a sudden frown. “Follow me. I think we need to have a discussion, somewhere more private.”