"So..." Lorres rested a steaming coffee on the table next to Jase, a new thread of interest woven into this operation now she could have some influence and control over it. "How was Jordan?"
Jase took a sip from his mug, buying himself a fraction of a second to set his mind on the correct track. He was fortunate to have a good relationship with Lorres, and that afforded him some leeway that he needed to exercise with caution.
"Boring. And eventful at the same time," he allowed another mouthful of the coffee to scald the back of his tongue. "I'm sure you know much more than I do by this point."
True to Jase's expectations, Lorres tossed two folders from a mountainous pile atop the table towards him, one significantly larger than the other. He opened the bulkier of the two, tossing page after page of historic intel obviously handed over by MI5 about Bazish al-Raheem.
"All this... and he had nothing we could use," Jase exhaled in annoyance and slapped the folder shut as his eyes caught the exposed photograph of his late prisoner; bloated body puffy, skin waxy with a sickly sheen.
"We already have a team on the ground hunting for the hard drive. Hopefully some diagnostics on the laptop you brought back will turn something up."
"Well the biggest concern has got to be how a renegade with no high level contacts came across that information. The agency must be shaking all their branches to find their rat," al-Raheem had never disclosed how he had come across what he had, which was undoubtedly the most dangerous threat to the country.
"I don't know what it is, and I don't want to know. I've heard some crazy stories during all this... people are wondering if they're safe," Lorres was thankful whatever classified intel al-Raheem had come across hadn't been disclosed to her. An unsteady atmosphere had descended when high level agents had been hauled in for questioning, unsettling rumours trickling their way down the grapevine. "The debrief you'll have privately will be under polygraph, you'll have hand cramp by the time you've finished signing all the legal papers."
"Can't wait," Jase smiled slightly and turned his attention to the second, comparatively empty folder. Lorres finally took a seat opposite him, her attention on the matter at hand restored.
"She's an interesting girl," she sipped her coffee delicately as Jase skimmed the pages. "Her teachers noted she seemed to have an eidetic memory when she was younger. I've done some research, it's virtually non existent in adults but her exam results were incredibly impressive. She was accepted to Oxford and Cambridge," Lorres watched Jase as he surveyed the little information they had on Paige. There wasn't a great deal to say about her, just general public information and a report on a proposed personality evaluation based on social media usage, which was of very little use as Paige used it sparingly.
"That is impressive," Jase murmured and turned the page to a review of her family and known associates. "No immediate family, really?"
"No one," Lorres shook her head. "Father was on her birth certificate, never paid child support and was never involved. Mother died just after Paige's college application, there were records of court mandated rehab programmes- she was a junkie and an alcoholic evidently. This all would have worked against her psych profile if some of her political views hadn't been published on social media. She was soft right, pro-Brexit, the opposite of the profile of an extremist sympathiser. And not the sort of person you would expect to be volunteering at a refugee camp." Paige had appeared an enigma until they discovered a hint of her political stance, which almost firmly removed their suspicion.
"No it's not," Jase mused, silent relief washing over him. He cleared his throat, seizing his opportunity to further dispel any uncertainty about Paige. "I was pretty sure before the interrogation that there was nothing she could give us. What are the UK saying, when will you send her back?"
Lorres raised her carefully manicured brows and tilted her head slightly. "Not yet. They don't want someone who's been exposed to classified information wandering off American soil so quickly."
"But you can't hold her here," Jase frowned, a surge of discomfort rising through him.
"No," Lorres admitted. "But we can offer her the opportunity to help us, on a transactional basis. They've arranged an apartment in the new housing development on the mainland, she can be observed over a period of time that way. She'll come here to work, go back to an environment we can control... the decision's been made anyway. All I have to do is market it to her as though it's a choice."
"And how do you know she won't refuse? Having Anthony here won't help you," Jase wasn't sure how the latest development made him feel. There was some sense of security that she was no longer a person of interest, but of all lists to be on, the CIA's watchlist was not the one you wanted your name on.
"Anthony will be on a flight as soon as possible, he'll be summoned back after his debrief is cleared. And whatever settlement legal comes up with will take some time to sort, we can dangle the bait with that somewhat," Lorres had her t's crossed and i's dotted, everything was strategically managed just the way she liked it.
"Well, sounds like you've got it all figured out," Jase closed the folder and sat back in his chair wearily.
"You must be exhausted."
"Yeah... I'm pretty tired," Jase pressed the folder containing Paige's private information to a firm close, wondering if he'd ever have a good night's sleep again.
*
"We do ask that patients are seen alone for these examinations, I'm sure you'll understa-"
"I stay with her," Ant threw a look towards the nurse that almost made her take a step back. One foot lingered on tiptoes poised on the floor behind, ready to place more distance between herself and Ant's thunderous figure.
"Well," the nurse gathered her composure. "Are you comfortable with him being present for your full body examination? You'll be required to undress, there will be an internal exam of... private areas," she raised her brows in emphasis, staring pointedly at Paige.
"I'll be okay," Paige glanced up to Ant for a brief moment, wondering if she really meant the words. It was just an exam, she told herself. She'd actually thought about the process of returning a lot during the flight to San Diego; the physical examinations, interviews, statements, paperwork and NDAs to sign... there would at least be a lot to keep her occupied before she travelled home. She was now privately dreading returning to the UK, and wished she could mention it to Ant without appearing ungrateful. Thanks for rescuing me from one of the most dangerous places in the world, but I'd rather not go home right now, thanks all the same. It seemed ridiculous to even contemplate telling him.
Paige followed the nurse into a fully equipped private room, a gown neatly folded on the bed.
"You get yourself undressed and comfortable on there, the doctor will be with you in five minutes," the nurse neglected to offer a smile as she retreated out of the room. Paige shunned her tattered dirty clothes, almost forgetting the poignancy of the moment. I will never have to wear those clothes again. She picked the trousers up from the floor, poking her fingers through the thin slit Jase had made with his knife. She remembered every moment of that ordeal, the drug hadn't numbed her from the experience.
Paige wriggled the gaping gown over her body and lay on the bed uncomfortably, willing the time along so this part of the recovery process could be over and done with. After this no one need ever poke, prod or touch her again, she could finally regain control.
A soft knock rattled the door before it swung open, the nurse and doctor walking in. Paige caught a glimpse of Ant lurking in the corridor outside, refusing to give up his post. She wished he would, all she wanted now was a hot shower and a long night's sleep. As the medical staff exchanged pleasantries and instructed Paige to bend her knees and rest her feet apart on the bed, she forced her mind away and dreamed of soft nothingness, ignoring the probing hands approaching her skin.