-Jake Aylesbury -
Sitting in my dull office, I was slumped forward, my hand covering my face. I had to write formal letters to the families of the six agents who had died. Nothing true, of course, except the fact they had all died tragically. A lab accident, something they were doing went wrong.
Being a Unit captain had many downsides, including having to deal with the fallout. Takeichi was always better at taking the fallout in her stride. She had an ironic way of looking at life that I'd never accomplished. This inability to just swallow the pill of unforeseen circumstance made me feel so much less competent.
One of the few who ever thought I was qualified for the job was one who, partially because of me, couldn't be given it herself. Her death proved one thing, she was wrong about my being qualified. I'd failed to sense the third party.
This brought me to the last family on the list; Norton's. The others were all pretty dedicated to their job. Most of them lived here, collectively alone, estranged from their families. A quick explanation was easy.
Laid on my desk was a photograph from Amy's room here. Five faces smiled out of it at me. Amy sat at the centre, her parents either side of her, as well as an older brother and sister, who were cuddled into her. They'd been captured in one of those perfectly natural moments, laughter lighting up their expressions. This was from the time she'd been suspended, able to reconnect with her family, the close bond they'd had, knitted tighter together. No one else kept family photos, no one else had the need to unless they were driven by guilt. The expectation that they should care.
Her life amounted to more than a letter full of lies.
I ground my teeth together in my mouth.
I lifted the phone off of its receiver and dialled the number written in Norton's file. Before it could ring through, my hand had clamped so tightly around the handset that the plastic exploded in my grasp. My empty fist came down on my desk just as my office door opened.
Standing there was Swan, her expression was no less than amused by my display. "Really Aylesbury," her right eyebrow lifted at me sceptically after a moment.
"Agent Swan," I stood up, dusting the plastic shards from my clothes.
Her eyes narrowed at me, the lavender sliver around her enlarged pupils glowing in the dimness as the small room filled with her juniper scent. "I have an assignment for you," cupped in both hands in front of her was a plain file that she tapped gently against her chest.
"The day you don't will be an apocalypse," I muttered beneath my breath.
She smirked for a moment, then shook her head. "There's a girl gone missing, I need you to find her."
"I don't exactly specialise in missing persons, unless there's a hit on their head or something to retrieve from them." I turned towards a paper stack on my desk, tidying it and shuffling the sealed envelopes filled with lies next to the stack.
"You specialise in what we tell you," the file in her hand flew towards the desk making a heavy thud in my sensitive ears as it messed up my paper stack.
I lifted my eyes up to her, locking my jaw as my back went completely rigid in her presence.
"Besides, this is important." Her hands were on her hips now that they were free, fingers tapping against her hipbones.
My hand hesitated over the file, not turning my eyes away from Swan. "Why?"
"The girl's name is Kathleen Firethorn." Her right eyebrow arched up again, there was such an ease with her coldness.
"Why is she important? I've never heard of her..." My fingers brushed the edges of the file.
"Firethorn is her mother's maiden name, used to mask her identity." Swan paused for a moment, her eyes grazing the brown paper where my fingers twitched hesitantly. "Read the file."
I lifted it up, on opening it my eyes scanned over the details and widened. I glanced up at Natalia, a heaviness had added to her usual cold. "She's Mister Andersen's daughter?" I swallowed.
"I told you it was important." She glanced down at the floor. "I can't take the case." Her back slumped up against the door.
"Understandable." I nodded, feeling the air escape from my lungs. "Your half sister... had you ever m..."
Swan shook her head. "No, I don't count, remember."
Miss Swan was the result of an affair Mr Andersen had twenty-six years ago. Kathleen his only legitimate child and when you have a certain amount of celebrity about you, legitimate is all that counts.
Their upbringing had been polar opposite. Swan's mother had raised her alone until she got too sick for either of them to manage. Before she died she sent dozens of letters to Mr Andersen about their daughter, she was fifteen and had no one else. So he gave her a room at HQ, her schooling was conducted here and after some exams she was allowed to train to become an agent. After years of no contact and being shunned, she took the opportunity very seriously.
As far as anyone knew of Kathleen, she had been sheltered with both parents to shower her with attention and whatever she needed. She had been born sickly and weak, for a long time people thought she'd died. But when reports came back that she was healthy; rumours circulated that she was the reason for Mr Andersen's funding the development of the ReGenisis serum originally. Which turned out to be true.
This left Swan with two bad tastes in her mouth. The same month Andersen's good daughter, the one that counted, was cured of cancer, Natalia's mother died of it. Alone in Milton Keynes General Hospital, choking on her own blood.
My hand balled tightly down by my side. "I'm sorry Swan."
She stood up straight, smoothing down the small folds in her dress where it had gathered and shook her head. "Whatever for," cold, like her father. Her plump lips pulled together into a frown before she turned round and went to open the door.
"Natalia," I breathed, watching her tense up with her hand not quite wrapped around the handle. "You're allowed to feel. You lost another friend last night, and now this..."
She sighed gently. Silent for a moment too long. "I have no friends." Her voice tight, no variation in the monotone. Then she grasped the handle mercilessly and walked out, slamming it shut from the other side.
I could hear through the door that she'd stopped there, taking a moment to make her breaths even.
Perhaps King had been right, time corrupts everything. Time and death.
When Natalia's heels finally clacked away from the door I could relax at last. Slumping back into my chair. I pulled the file open again, flipping the first page of information over to see a picture of the dark eyed, dark haired girl.
"Holy crap," I muttered, a deep wrenching panic worming its way through me. The girl with Griffin last night was the one I'd just been asked to look for.
* * *
Skinner was stood in my office, half slumped up against the wall, his head glancing aside, his squinted eyes far off. This was how he showed his grieving, through a subtle change in his rigidness. Considering he was one of the few men who played any long term role in Natalia's life it explained where she got it from, remembering her slumped similarly less than half hour ago.
Stood next to him with his bulky arms crossed and a scowl on his gold face, Hudson was showing his own version of pain. It was easier to pick up from the sweat on his skin, as it was giving off certain hormones, that his pulse was travelling just that little bit faster, his breaths slightly choppier. Anger running through him. Hudson tended to get angry when he was upset, but bury it almost as well as he buried his hurt.
I hadn't called Tryst or Jennings, I didn't want them on this mission, at least not to know all the details about it. I was liable to kill them myself through annoyance, or they were likely to screw up by doing things the routine way. Besides, Jennings liked working in the morgue of this place, poking old gone wrong mutations of the ReGenisis experiment like the lab coat he should have been brought in as. Sorry excuses for replacements indeed.
"Little miss Andersen escaped again, it's been what, a year and a half since one of her old body guards got lined up and shot for letting her out of his sight?" Skinner tried to sound humorous, snake like, with a yellow smirk on his mouth as he turned to look up at Tucker. Hudson was too busy pouting to smirk in return, instead he turned his eyes aside at him and lifted his head, a half nod.
"About that," I agreed. "This one won't have such an easy escape, it's rumoured he was paid off to let her escape by an outside party..."
"March?" Tucker Hudson's hand crunched into a fist as he lifted it from the other where it was crossed.
I dipped my head, "there's no confirmation that he was definitely paid off." I paused, locking my jaw in my mouth a little. "But from one of the reports I was brought, the blood cleaned up the other day in Aspley Woods was a combination of Miss Andersen's as well as three known human operatives for Ides of March Industries. Two of the bodies were retrieved. The last, it appears, was allowed to get away."
"Allowed to get away? Man, I need to read those files Jennings keeps shoving into my hands instead of conveniently losing 'em." Tucker's voice had at least cheered enough to joke, if not truthfully.
I nodded, "At the time they weren't sure what had happened. The report assumed that they came under attack, that there was a fourth March agent, most likely a Nocturnal, and that Miss Andersen was taken by them." Looking up at the room Skinner had pushed himself off the wall and was standing straight again, his eyes widening.
"But you don't think that's the case?" He asked, his mouth moving slowly, sounding out every word as his brain ticked it over. "You think they were attacked by King...? Which would make the girl with him yesterday..." Skinner paused, exchanging a glance with Hudson.
"You think King kidnapped Miss Andersen?" Tucker confirmed the thought aloud as it came to him and he turned his serious gold hazel eyes on me.
"No," Skinner shook his head whilst studying my expression, his eyes narrowing on my face as he brought his hand up to his own chin. "He thinks King protected her, possibly without realising who she was?"
I closed my eyes for a moment, silent agreement. "Unfortunately," I sighed, "it won't be viewed that way. Before our search for him and that sanctuary was a quiet, slow process. Now, it could turn into an open man hunt the moment anyone outside of this room gets wind of it."
"You can't let your feelings for those three cloud your judgment." Tucker grumbled, but it sounded programmed. He didn't believe what he was saying as much as I wasn't going to listen.
"I don't care. I don't entirely understand why they did what they did, but something tells me there was a good reason they left. Norton said she'd almost gone with them, I wish she had." My shoulders sunk forward as I tried to regain my thought processes. "But," I shook my head, bringing myself back. "I want to keep this information contained, we are to act as if we are operating under the assumption Ides of March has her, that is what you are to tell Tryst and Jennings. I need to see if I can draw King out for a conversation on my own. I might be able to get him to let Miss Andersen go before anyone here realises where she is."
"How exactly do you intend to draw him out?" Hudson raised his eyebrow sceptically.
I sighed, staring down at my feet. "I'll think of something."