The Assignment of a Lifetime
“It’s not your fault.” Duke somehow managed to make her voice sound sincere.
“Don’t give me that,” Odessa moaned, wiping her mouth and flushing the polysteel toilet before her. “I blew it and you know it.”
“Stop it, Dessa,” Duke gently commanded. “You couldn’t have known he’d pull a fast one on you like that.”
“I should have known.” Odessa gripped the sides of the toilet as another wave of nausea slithered through her. “I never should have put them in the same room together.”
“It’s not like it was your idea,” Duke reminded her. Odessa heard the stall’s handle jiggle. “Come on, Dessa, unlock the door.”
Odessa used the toilet as leverage and pulled herself to her feet. With shaking hands she unlocked the stall door and pushed past Duke without meeting her eyes. She reached a sink, careful to avoid her own eyes in the mirror hanging above, and tapped the faucet to set the water running. She cupped her hands and brought as much of the water as she could to her mouth, desperate to rid her tongue from the taste of bile.
“Talk to me, Dessa,” Duke said from behind her. Odessa barely felt the agent’s hand as she placed it on her shoulder; if Duke weighed any less she’d probably start floating.
“I thought…” What had she thought? She’d thought she’d stumbled and fallen into her own big break, that’s what she’d thought. She finally glanced up at the mirror and glared into her own eyes, now almost as bloodshot as Belle’s had been by the time she’d left him with Brooke.
Great, she thought. How was she supposed to hide that?
“Here,” Duke said, reaching around her and setting a small bottle on the edge of the sink. Odessa picked it up and examined the label, breathing a sigh of relief as she realized it contained eye-drops.
“Thanks, Sara,” Odessa said as she leaned back to drip a bit of the solution into each eye. She shut her eyes tightly and felt a slight warmth cover her eyes, followed by a slight tingle. When the tingling had finished she opened her eyes and looked back into the mirror; the drops had worked, as Duke’s drugstore finds and holistic concoctions usually did, and the tinge of red was quickly fading from Odessa’s eyes. “You’re a life-saver.”
“I know, I know,” Duke said, moving to sit atop the sink to Odessa’s right. “So talk to me already. Get it all out.”
The answer to everything, in Duke’s opinion, at least, was oration.
“It was going so well,” Odessa moaned, looking away from her reflection and clenching her fists. “I actually got him to talk! And he’s from Roundtown! Roundtown, Sara!”
“I know!” Duke nodded enthusiastically. “It’s huge! And you did great!”
“Then Brooke had to go and…” Odessa couldn’t bear to finish. “If Belle had just agreed we could have kept it within the department, but now Bakersox’s got her nose in it and it’s…”
Again, Odessa could not finish her thought. While Executive Director Kissinger was, indisputably, in charge of the Bureau, Senior Director Bakersox ruled the Intelligence Division with a fist made of equal parts iron and totalitarianism.
“Bakersox will never let Belle stay with Brooke.” Odessa said to her hands. “She’ll see him dead before she lets him back into the City.”
“Bakersox doesn’t run the whole show, you know,” Duke reminded her. “We’ve got Lo, and –”
“Do you really think she’s going to be able to stand up to Bakersox?” Odessa practically spit. Lo had been with the Bureau a long time and she had accrued more than her share of friends in high places, granted, but she was still only the head of the Anthropology Department.
“It’s not the same as having the ED in our corner, I admit, but Lo’s better than nothing.”
“Barely.”
“It’s too bad we don’t work for the Bureau of Anthropology and Defense, huh?”
Odessa looked over at her friend. Duke grinned back and Odessa snorted in spite of herself. “That would make us the BAD.”
“Ooh, I kind of like the sound of that. Hey, then the proletarians could call us the Baddies instead of the Biddies! Sounds a lot more badass, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, actually,” Odessa had to admit. “It does.”
“And we’d have an entire Anthropology Division instead of just a department. We might even get interns to fetch our coffee for us and… whatever else it is that interns do for you!”
“One can dream, I suppose.”
“I suppose,” Duke agreed wistfully. Her grin shrank and her eyes became slightly less playful. “Are you gonna be alright, Dessa?”
“Yeah,” Odessa said with a nod. It was true, she would be alright. She was already better than she’d been. At the moment she was more upset by her reaction than what had actually happened.
She’d been so sure Brooke had been nothing more than a hapless tagalong, a passerby that happened to find himself in Belle’s path, that she hadn’t minded reuniting them one bit. Part of her had even took it as a good sign; if Belle could form an attachment like this to some Joe Blow he’d only just met, imagine the kind of rapport someone with actual training could build! But then Brooke had snatched it all away. She remembered the way Belle had looked at him after he’d suggested he be appointed as the man’s keeper; he’d looked at him like he was the Way-Maker themself come down from the sky.
Her first big shot to make history, and it was snatched away from her by the son of a publicity-loving old lawyer.
She’d been relieved to feel her wireless buzz and see the message from Lo telling her to pull out before any concrete deals were made. The director had assured her she’d done well, but Odessa had already felt her hands start to shake as she felt her big break slipping away from her. She’d excused herself and rushed here to give herself enough space and privacy for a proper panic attack, but Duke had been hot on her heels.
“Yeah,” she said again, as Duke still had her fixed with a stare. “I’m gonna be fine. I just… it was just all pretty disappointing.”
“How about we save the tears for when everything’s said and done, huh?” Duke suggested.
“I can’t promise any –” Odessa began only to cut off as the bathroom door opened. She looked toward Duke to warn her, but the agent had already dismounted from her perch atop the sink and was examining her own reflection as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place today.
“There you are,” Special Agent Gray said with some note of relief in her voice. Odessa was surprised to see Gray again after running into her in the lobby earlier. “Come on, we’re due for a briefing.”
Odessa and Duke exchanged glances. The higher-ups were finally ready to decide Belle’s fate. They each took a breath and then made their way toward Gray, but the stout, pale woman held up a hand.
“Not you, Duke. Just Grant.”
“Oh, of course,” Duke said with a roll of her eyes.
Odessa gripped her friend’s arm and said softly, “Thanks again, Sara. For everything.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Duke returned to the sink she’d been sitting on and continued pretending to examine her reflection. Before Odessa was out the door she called out, “I do expect details when you’re done, though!”
Odessa grinned until she saw the grave expression on Gray’s face.
“Only joking, Special Agent Gray,” Duke assured her coolly. “Wouldn’t dream of violating any confidences around here.”
“I should hope not,” Gray said, just as coolly. She brought her finger to her mouth and tore into a cuticle. “Come on, Grant, we’re late.”
Odessa looked back in time to see the face Duke made toward Gray’s back.
⁂
If there was one sound Odessa hated more than any other in this world, it was the sound of her own voice recorded and played back. She could avoid watching the projection of her interview with Belle, but, save stuffing her fingers into her ears, there was nothing she could do to avoid the audio.
For a moment, a scratching sound distracted Odessa from the caterwauling coming from her projected self’s mouth. She glanced up from her screen she hadn’t really been looking at and saw Senior Director Bakersox absolutely going to town on a pad of paper with, Way-Maker guide us, an actual, real-life pen. Odessa had heard stories of Bakersox’s paranoia before (she did not believe in keeping notes on a screen or wireless, because even the best of them could be hacked), but she’d never been close enough to the Senior Director to see it in action.
Odessa glanced at the projection; they were at the point when Belle had mentioned the nerve agent used on the maintenance worker and the guard. Bakersox redoubled her furious scribblings.
Odessa began to berate herself. Why hadn’t she pressed him harder on the gas? She’d been in such a rush to get as much as she could from him that she hadn’t stopped to press for details. Not that it was likely Belle would have provided any, pressed or no; he’d been tight-lipped when it came to details on his town.
This internal monologue continued until there was a lull in the hum of the room’s projectors. She glanced up and saw the scene had changed; they’d moved to Brooke’s room.
Odessa couldn’t bear to watch any of this part. She didn’t need to see any of it recreated now; she’d been replaying it in her head for the last half hour. How could she have frozen like that? Why hadn’t she interposed herself between them as soon as she’d noticed them exchanging glances?
This round of internal barrages continued for a few minutes, only to be interrupted again as the projectors cut out and the room’s lights slowly came to life. Odessa now had a clear view of the faces around her; Lo sat, solid and comforting, at her side, while around the table she saw Executive Director Kissinger, Directors Hamson and Guile, and Special Agents Gray, Stan and Rorke. Bakersox sat a few agents down to Odessa’s right, now flipping through different pages on her pad, while Senior Director Gammot, the head of the Defense Division, sat to her left with only Special Agent Rorke between them.
“Who the hell is this Brooke guy?” Director Hamson asked, looking toward Kissinger.
“Hugo Brooke.” Lo announced, causing Hamson’s head to swivel toward her. “He’s an amateur detective, started up a little agency about a year and a half ago. He’s strictly small time, but his father’s a bit of a big deal.”
“Friday Brooke?” Director Guile asked, looking through Brooke’s file on her screen. “From the commercials?”
“The one and only.” Lo affirmed.
“And we’re certain Brooke and Belle had no connection prior to last night?” Bakersox asked, glaring toward Lo.
“Brooke’s never been outside of the City.” Lo said calmly, meeting Bakersox’s stare if not her intensity. “Not even for a vacation to Constantinople or Carthage. And, to the best of our knowledge, he isn’t in the habit of rearing messenger parrots, so I’m not sure how he could possibly have had any connection to Belle before their meeting last night.”
Odessa enthusiastically studied her screen as a tense silence followed Lo’s crack.
Guile finally broke the silence by asking Lo, “What about the other one? This Dr. Micki?”
“She’s a Gettysburg native and, by all accounts, an excellent veterinarian and researcher, but, again, we have no evidence she had any connection to Belle prior to last night.”
“You say she’s from Gettysburg?” Hamson asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s connected to Jericho, right?”
Lo nodded.
Hamson chuckled. “I was wondering why there wasn’t any surname listed. That’s just what we need on top of everything else: a mononymous Luddite.”
“Luddite’s a bit strong, Director,” Lo said with a subtle smile. Odessa had seen that smile before, right before Lo had eviscerated a junior agent for contaminating a dig site outside of Baghdad. “And there’s actually an interesting story behind the lack of surnames in the region. You see, the –”
“We can save the history lesson for another time, Director Lo,” Bakersox said with a curt nod.
“What’s the status of the man’s dog?” Special Agent Stan said before another silence could befall the room. “This Micki was supposed to be treating it, right?”
“That’s correct,” Bakersox said, not bothering to look at the underling. “We have agents posted at her clinic now. From what they’ve reported the dog will live.”
“That’s good to know,” Director Guile said. “But I feel I have to ask, how sure are we this man is actually from Roundtown?”
Bakersox opened her mouth, but Lo beat her to it. “While the quarantine scanners were working him over we got his prints and a good enough look at his teeth to check them. We also found more than enough shed epidermal cells to grow a usable sample. We even checked the tattoo database, just in case. He’s not in any of our systems, which means he isn’t from any City in the Union. He isn’t mutated enough to have been born and raised in the Wastes, so he had to have come from some sort of settlement.”
“Based on the information we have at our disposal at this time, I feel comfortable with us officially labeling him a citizen of Roundtown.” Executive Director Kissinger announced. This was the first time Odessa had heard him speak since the briefing had commenced, but the effect of his words was palpable; the matter was settled.
“What do we actually know about Roundtown?” Senior Director Gammot asked, his deep voice reverberating in the small conference room.
Bakersox took the lead on this one. “Not nearly enough as we should. Everything we do have has been salvaged from Father Hassan’s records, and we know how shoddy those are at the best of times.”
Odessa had to restrain from scowling at the Senior Director. Who was she to speak of Father Hassan with such distain in her voice? If it weren’t for him, and the guidance of the Way-Maker, the City wouldn’t be here, let alone Bakersox.
“We know the town itself is situated in a large valley.” Bakersox tapped a few keys and the room’s projectors hummed back to life. A facsimile of a valley, comprised of basic geometric shapes, appeared before them. “It’s surrounded by mountains and, according to the good Father, it’s the only settlement for miles.”
“How did they avoid the radiation?” Gammot asked, studying the crude reproduction of the valley.
“Unknown.” Bakersox said, clearly not pleased with her own answer. “Hassan left out a good number of crucial details in his records. He mainly focused on the people his followers interacted with while they camped outside the town.”
“They weren’t allowed inside?” Guile asked.
“No. That’s one of the few definites in Hassan’s ramblings. He and his followers asked to share the valley, but they were never allowed beyond what he refers to as ‘the great gates’.”
“It should be noted,” Lo cut in. “That while it’s true no one was allowed into the town, the people of Roundtown did share their resources with Hassan’s group. They kept them fed and supplied with enough tents and makeshift shelters to see them through an entire winter.”
“Yes, they should all be retroactively presented with humanitarian awards,” Bakersox said dryly. “Moving on. Hassan never had a definitive count in terms of population, but he claimed to have interacted with several hundred individuals and animals during their stay.”
“Animals?” Hamson asked, sounding both incredulous and amused.
“Yes,” Bakersox answered, sharing none of Hamson’s mirth. “Hassan stated the people of the valley lived and worked very closely with their animals. He mentioned seeing cows, pigs, chickens, etc. All your standard agrarian livestock.”
“Agrarian?” Gammot looked up from his screen with a puzzled look on his face. “How does an agrarian society end up producing untraceable nerve agents?”
“That’s an excellent question.” Bakersox said, again not looking pleased. “We don’t know. Hassan mentioned a few examples of technology, such as something like a turret system surrounding the mountains, but nothing close to what Belle described.”
“It’s been a good couple centuries since Hassan’s followers were at the mountains,” Lo reminded her. “It’s amazing what a society can accomplish in that amount of time.”
“Amen to that,” Kissinger said with a small, creeping smile. He nodded toward Bakersox, who cut the signal to the projectors.
“I hate to be that guy,” Hamson said. “But how important is it that we actually stay in this town’s good books?”
“Very,” Gammot said definitively. “We’re stretched thin, folks. We’ve got goldfiends popping up on every street corner, pressure to lend aid to Beijing while they deal with their border mess, not to mention we’re still recovering from our last go ‘round with Alexandria. We can’t afford another sustained conflict for another decade, at least. And if everyone from this town is armed with these nerve agents or as… capable as this young man in a fight, the conflict might not even last long enough to warrant being called ‘sustained’.”
“Beyond militaristic motives,” Lo cut in gently. “I believe we would be squandering an unprecedented opportunity if we didn’t attempt to establish solid, positive connections with Roundtown. As far as we know it’s the only independent settlement left on the continent, and now we’ve got one of its people right here in our laps!”
“That isn’t necessarily a good thing, Director Lo,” Bakersox said. “This man has killed three people in less than 24 hours, not to mention the cost of the Bureau property he either destroyed or damaged while he was tearing through the Wall.”
“As you heard for yourself, Senior Director, the three people he killed were goldfiends. If he hadn’t killed them they would’ve killed him, or anyone else they could get their hands on. Besides, if we were able to put some kind of dent in the gold pipeline running through the City there probably wouldn’t have even been any fiends in that alley. And as far as BID property goes, if we had contact protocol in place beyond our current shoot-on-sight policy we might not have –”
Kissinger cleared his throat, and Lo’s steadily rising voice cut out at once. “Director Lo has a point. I’m not prepared to base our final assessment of this boy on the sort of luck he’s had the last few hours. I would, however, like some insight from the Psychology Department.”
He turned toward Director Guile and gave her a slight nod. Guile returned the nod and then gave one of her own to Special Agent Gray.
“He’s an odd one,” Gray began before pausing to gnaw a fresh bit of cuticle. “He brought his dog with him all through the Wastes, which tells me it’s important to him, but then he’s willing to leave it with Micki. So he definitely trusts her. And he obviously trusts Brooke; look at this.”
She tapped away at her screen and projectors recreated Odessa’s interview again. Gray set the projection to just after Odessa had explained the BID’s plan for Belle to be their Roundtown liaison. The man had paused after she’d finished explaining the deal, then he’d looked right at Brooke. Odessa remembered the moment well; if she’d been quick enough she might have been able to diffuse it. The reproduction of Brooke shook his head and the reproduction of Belle immediately declined Odessa’s proposal.
“He didn’t even think.” Gray said, pausing the projection.
“Why isn’t he as trusting with us?” Bakersox demanded.
“He knows the Bureau runs the Wall,” Gray said, her eyes back on her screen. “He associates us with the interceptors who went after him last night. He might warm up, but I think it’ll be hard to get past that association now that it’s been made.”
“Guy’s gotta be tough to make it through the Wastes and still be on his feet,” Guile added. “And I don’t mean tough physically. He had to have run into a fallout or two out there, and we know what kind of horror show those things can be.”
“He is tough, yes, but he’s also extremely dangerous,” Bakersox cut in. “He’s a liability to City safety and he cannot be allowed back into the public.”
“But that’s the whole reason he’s here,” Lo reminded the Senior Director. “So he can learn about us and how we live our lives.”
“I realize that, but –”
“Unless I’m mistaken, Father Hassan’s deal with Roundtown basically ties our hands, doesn’t it?” Lo asked Kissinger. “Hassan guaranteed anyone from Roundtown would be welcome in the City.”
“That deal was made before there even was a City to be welcomed to,” Bakersox shot back, not waiting for the Executive Director to respond. “Besides, we need to stop talking about Hassan’s deal as if it has any actual legal status today.”
“What would you propose, Senior Director?” Lo demanded. “That we lock him up and, what, torture some answers out of him? Special Agent Gray, how likely do you think it is this guy would talk if we put the screws to him?”
“Can’t say for sure, but I doubt he’d give us anything.” Gray said, not looking up from her screen. “He has that kind of look about him. Something about the way he holds his head; I’m not sure how to describe it.”
“But there’s a chance we could get the information we need.” Bakersox extrapolated.
“A chance, yeah,” Gray said with a distracted nod. “There’s always a chance.”
“We have to at least consider Brooke’s idea,” Lo said, patches of red slowly splotching up her neck. Odessa had never seen her director quite this fired up before.
“Absolutely not.” Bakersox said, squaring her jaw. “I will not allow that sort of unknown influence into the population, especially not if the only one watching him is a half-assed rich kid playing detective. Brooke’s throat would probably be slit within a week!”
“If he even lasted a week,” Odessa thought to herself. Her ears pricked suddenly; the room had gone quiet.
“Excuse me?” Bakersox asked, an eyebrow raised, just as Odessa realized she’d muttered aloud.
“Yes, Grant, I’m very curious to hear your thoughts on all this.” Kissinger said, his eyes sparkling toward her.
“Oh,” Odessa felt herself begin to panic. She’d had no intention of so much as opening her mouth while she was in this room, let alone sharing her thoughts. “Well, Executive Director, I don’t think I –”
“Come, now, don’t be shy,” Kissinger said, his smile widening.
“Well,” Odessa began, trying to plot out three sentences ahead. “I think that if we were to place Brooke in charge of Belle while he’s here, Brooke wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure for very long. He hasn’t had his detective agency open a full two years yet, and from what we found in his records it’s already struggling. I think Brooke believes he can handle Belle, but I doubt it would be more than a few weeks before he burns out and washes his hands of the entire situation.”
“Then,” Lo continued, clearly picking up on Odessa’s lead. “Belle wouldn’t have anyone else to look to. He’d have to take us up on our offer.”
“Now there is an idea,” Kissinger said, his eyes glittering toward Odessa.
“Executive Director, I –” Bakersox began, only to cut off as Kissinger waved a hand in her direction.
“We could establish mandatory check-ins on a regular basis with one of our agents. That way if things do begin to deteriorate we can be prepared and have a plan in place.” Hamshot said, mulling over the idea as he spoke.
“That would also give us an opportunity to build up some rapport with Belle,” Lo added, pouncing on the chance to add more weight to her argument. “Executive Director, I think this is the perfect way to make sure everyone gets what they want. Belle won’t think he’s being forced to do anything and we’ll be able to establish a dialogue from a safe distance.”
“I agree, it’s an appealing idea.” Kissinger said. “Who would you suggest as a contact?”
Gray cut in. “It should be Grant.”
Odessa’s brows shot skyward as she swiveled to gawk at Gray.
“Belle was willing to talk to you,” Gray explained. “I don’t think that’s something we’re guaranteed if we try using someone else as a contact. But there’s something else –” she tapped her screen a few more times, and the projection shifted before them “– watch Brooke’s face.”
The projection began to play at a greatly diminished speed. Odessa saw herself push the chair Belle would soon be sitting in into Brooke’s room. As she moved the chair around to Brooke’s side of the table, his eyes unmistakably moved toward her chest.
Odessa felt herself blush; she hadn’t caught Brooke ogling her.
“That’s just one example,” Gray continued, pausing the projection. “He blushed when Grant said his name, and his eyes were glued to her ass every time she left the room. I’d bet money he’s infatuated with her, and with a guy like this I don’t think it would take much to have him wrapped around her finger.”
“I think one of my agents would be a more… prudent choice, Executive Director.” Bakersox said quietly.
“Yes, I’m sure they would be,” Kissinger agreed without bothering to lower his voice. “But a man is never as eager to be of assistance as he is when he’s in love. I think we’ve been given a gift here, and I’m never one to discard gifts out of hand. What do you say, Grant? This is the assignment of a lifetime; think you’re up for it?”
Oh, shit, was Odessa’s first thought. Luckily she managed not to share this one aloud.
I tell ya, Dessy-Girl, not a thing on this ol’ world’ll keep ya up at night like a shot ya never had the stones to take, her father warned.
“I’m certainly willing to give it a shot,” Odessa said, forcing herself not to look away from Kissinger’s stare or his grin.
The Executive Director’s smile grew even wider. “Excellent.”