"Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean."- Maya Angelou
Chapter Eight
I couldn't have been more thrilled to hear the elevator ding and watch the doors open. Out came a small group of agents, all supporting a variety of looks ranging from shocked, confused, and disturbed. Despite the circumstances, I smiled and nudged Agent Lam as we entered the elevator.
"What?" she asked, chuckling as we watched them all disperse into different directions, lost and dismayed.
"I didn't know they were allowing the newbies go down there already," I said.
With the elevator doors closing us off to the rest of the headquarters, we spoke more freely amongst ourselves and left behind the remnants of that awkward conversations in the past – to be rediscovered another day.
"Yeah, I didn't know either until I came in earlier and saw them all going down in large groups," she said, her left hand in her black trousers' pocket.
"Whose brilliant idea was it, again?" I asked, feeling the urge to humor myself with arbitrary nonsense.
Perhaps, the jovial mood of the elevator would lift my dying spirits. Only God knew how badly I was in need of that.
She glanced at the floor numbers slowly ascending. This was shaping up to be the longest elevator ride, and we were only going up three flights. I understood then why it had taken so long earlier for the elevator to arrive for us.
"Apparently," she looked at me, her left eyebrow raised. "It was Agent Matthew's idea. Supposedly, he thought it would be better to immediately immerse them into the darker side of the FBI. You know, to weed out the unfit?"
I nodded, but my mood dampened noticeably. It was never a good idea to push people into confronting their demons, especially when they were coming into a new environment and the demons weren't even theirs. Agent Matthew was generally a wise man, who made sound and intelligent decisions, but this was one situation where I did not see eye to eye with him.
I made a mental note to have a word with him privately regarding this. Although the mental and emotional states of the new agents was not my responsibility nor my primary concern, I couldn't help but feel strongly about this. Besides, I needed a justifiable distraction from the heavy case assigned to me and this seemed as good as any.
"Finally!" she exclaimed, her hands thrown into the air in a fit of passion-filled relief.
I laughed at her theatrics, but quickly covered it up with an unconvincing cough when she flashed me a heated look. Apparently, I was not to laugh at her frustration and this, for some reason, made everything that much more stomach-achingly humorous.
We rushed forward, down the hall, made a right turn, and arrived at our destination quicker than someone could yell, "FREEZE!" This was largely due to the lack of agents crowding the space as the ground level lobby was packed-tight.
"They should bring some of the agents up here," I said, speaking my thoughts out loud. "It would really help with the congestion downstairs."
Agent Lam spared a moment to give me a "What are you talking about?" kind of look before she ultimately decided that there were more important matters to attend to and shrugged me off. With one hand stretched out, her stoic face prepped and ready, she opened the door to a room labeled, "Conference: Authorized Personnel Only," and walked inside with me following closely behind.
I felt like a toddler following her mother around the shopping mall. This wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last time, that I questioned my merits. In all honesty, had I been asked this question by Agent Hook or Agent Matthew, I would've undoubtedly said that any agent, especially Agent Lam and Agent Beta, were better equipped (mentally and physically) and possessed more leadership qualities than me.
Of course, however, such dialogue with me never occurred and my opinion on the matter never came into consideration. The version of me in this moment looked back at myself just a few months prior when I was still in the honeymoon phase with the whole idea of freedom and scoffed. I had been floating in air then. After all, being rid of your number one enemy was huge confidence booster.
I had deluded myself into believing that I could repair years of psychological damage with a fight to the death with my arch nemesis. It was foolish, and downright naïve, of me to assume I could fix murders with another murder, regardless of how justifiable it was. I did, however, and there was no way for me to turn back the clocks and warn my past self of the gigantic curveball hurdling towards me.
After the longest time, I felt the urge to cry. That too, not just simply cry, but bawl like a child I never had the chance to be.
Unfortunately, Agent Hook had a better idea of what I could, or should, be doing in my spare time.
"What took you both so long?" He asked, immediately as we walked in, before the door behind us even had the chance to fully close.
Agent Lam had not been exaggerating. Agent Hook was outrageous – angrier than the merciless winds on stormy, catastrophic nights.
Luckily for me, I was the prime target for his frustrations. I steeled myself for a long lecture about my responsibilities as an agent, how I could be putting in more effort, and what big hopes he had for me and my potential. Strangely enough, this inevitability didn't happen.
"The elevators are a little slow this morning, Agent Hook," I said, the first excuse I could think of rolling off my tongue with the ease of an experienced liar.
He paused, glancing at Agent Lam, whose stoic face was one of the best I had ever seen and gave nothing away, and Agent Maxwell, who sat in a chair with her arms crossed on the table, watching all of us with something akin to humor, before his eyes landed back on my face.
He sighed and dropped the files in his hand onto the long, circular table in what seemed like frustration. I bit my tongue as the sound of the files thwacking against the table rubbed me the wrong way.
"That's just brilliant. Brilliant!" he exclaimed, walking around the table, making incomprehensible sounds and gestures.
From an outsides perspective, it seemed like he was having a once-in-a-lifetime kind of meltdown. Looking at it with my years of experience with him, however, it seemed quite typical of him to act this way in face of unpleasant news or situations.
If Agent Beta were to witness this, like she has in the past, she would surely tell me that if he was deemed capable enough to be the "man in charge" of this headquarters, then I was certainly capable of taking on any case, regardless of its complexities.
"Do me a favor and tell my assistant to make a work order to fix that damn elevator, pronto!" he said, looking at Agent Maxwell with such intensity it was a miracle she didn't combust like a cartoon character.
To her credit, she immediately lowered her eyes and reached for one of the landline phones placed in the middle of the table to do as she was told. I could tell that she had quickly adapted – like all of us had to – and more likely than not, had compiled her own list of rules that helped her navigate the maze-like structure of the law and crime world.
She was like my twin, except alive.
Already feeling exhausted at the thought of a long day of hard work ahead of me, I attempted to get Agent Hook back on track.
"Agent Lam mentioned you were looking for me," I said, hoping he would catch my drift and get to the topic at hand.
As if God, himself, was listening to my thoughts, my wish was granted. Albeit, not exactly in the manner I wished it to be. He caught my drift alright, but, instead of launching into a civilized conversation about the reason he called this impromptu meeting, he found another medium from which to release the pent up anger he had in him.
"Of course, I'm looking for you! You were told yesterday to report here bright and early in the morning to go over the details of the crime scenes you will be visiting today, but now..." he paused, glancing at the clock ticking behind me, "it's ten thirty now and we're about two hours behind in the schedule."
This was news to me.
I clearly remembered planning with Agent Lam and Maxwell to meet for a private meeting regarding the case and brainstorming ideas on how to tackle it, but there was no memory I could recollect about a schedule or the fact that I was supposed to go on a field trip to the crime scenes.
"Are you even listening to me, Agent A? Care to explain yourself?" he asked.
I looked at Agent Lam, desperate to receive an indication that would tell me that I was right and he was off the charts today, but to no avail. Her face betrayed nothing but a sliver of sympathy aimed at me.
Shit.
Instead of bawling like an infant, it seemed I was more fated to break something. Preferably something heavy, made of glass, and expensive.
"Well..." I started off, unsure of how to frame my explanation in a manner that seemed reasonable and forgivable.
He cut me off, however, before I could even get another word out of mouth, just as one of the phones rang. No one moved to answer it.
"You see that," he gestured wildly at the phone ringing off the hook. "That's the thousandth call we've received this morning. Everyone from the Governor to the News Channels wants to know our thoughts on the latest murder and the agent in charge," he pointed at me, "has no idea what's even going on."
"In my defense –,"
He raised his hand in the air, silencing me.
"I don't want to hear your excuses, Agent A! I'm in no mood!"
I felt my frustrations at being denied a chance to defend myself boil into anger. Not even twenty-four hours had gone by since I was assigned this case and I was already being belittled. I couldn't imagine what was waiting for me in the future with this being just the beginning.
I did not know what compelled me, or what kind of evil spirit possessed me, but in that moment I wanted nothing more than to set the record straight. It was not only surprising, but downright humiliating to have him berate me for one lapse in judgement when he, himself, had been luring and manipulating me into taking this case.
I walked forward, my shoulders squared, and stood beside Agent Maxwell, who was looking increasingly concerned about the change in my mood. Being the newbie, she had no idea of my relationship with Agent Hook and therefore it wasn't surprising that when I finally mustered the strength to fight back, she looked ready to collapse.
I smacked my hands, palms down, onto the table, creating a loud noise that only fueled my adrenaline, and looked directly into Agent Hook's chaotic gray eyes – the same eyes that had medusa's power to turn its victims to stone.
"With. All. Due. Respect. Sir." I emphasized each and every word, highlighting the fire to come. "It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since you – yourself! – assigned me this case! I've had no chance to recover myself from a strenuous and demanding mission of capturing a wanted criminal to even being to assimilate myself into the nitty-gritty details of this case."
I did not stop there. The words in my chest demanded to be heard and darn right, I wasn't going to pause and think about the consequences of my actions until I had alleviated myself of the pressure inside my head.
It wasn't fair that I was the only one who had to carry the burden here. Sometimes, it was justifiable to be quiet, but there were also times when it became a necessity to give the higher-ups a taste of their own medicine.
Needless to say, I enjoyed every minute of it. From his boggling eyes to his unhinged jaw, everything and anything seemed satisfying.
"You may or may not be in the mood to hear this, sir, but I am definitely not going to stand here and be the victim of your frustrations. If you could give me a minute to explain myself and have a civil conversation, I'd be glad to discuss this schedule with you and repair any damages that may have been done because of my mistakes," I said, slowly softening the edge in my words until I reached my normal tone of voice.
"But," I emphasized, by increasing the loudness of my voice, "if that is not the case and you would rather waste even more precious time on berating me for a case I haven't had the chance to full grasp yet, then I suggest you look for a different agent to takeover."
Perhaps I crossed a line. I may have gone too far and border lined on disrespecting my senior, or just outright surpassed that point and hovered somewhere near insolence. Judging by the shift in Agent Lam's posture, from calm and reserved to tense and agitated, and her hand on my shoulder, I realized that that might be true.
Looking at Agent Hook, nevertheless, I came to a bigger conclusion: I couldn't have cared less.
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[A/N]: Guess who hit 20k words this chapter? This is one of my favorite chapters, writing-wise, and I couldn't be happier that I hit this milestone so early on in the book. Granted, hitting this milestone this early on means that by the time the 50+ chapters will be done, I'll be left with an extremely long book, but that's a concern for a later time, am I right?
As I mentioned in the last chapter, I've started some preliminary work on Opaque 2.0 and so far, so good! If all goes well, I should be wrapping up the second edition some time after New Years!
There's so much to discuss about this chapter, honestly, that I'm super excited to hear all of your reactions to it. Whose side are you on? Angie's or Agent Hook's? Do you think she took it too far or do you think it was about time for her to stand up?
Let me know in the comments below. Of course, like always, please feel free to comment, vote, and share if you liked this book. I hope you enjoyed reading the latest installment in Angie's chaotic life.
Thanks for reading!
~ Zamaryah