Irene sat in her apartment, furiously typing in code on her computer as she sent out last minute instructions to her allies for the day ahead. A flickering kitchen light and cup of coffee kept her awake as she typed. Her heart raced thinking about what events would transpire. How would Lynch react to such a loss?
Irene grinned slightly, typing the last of her messages before sending them out. The tech people had finally gotten her a sufficient laptop and had taught her all she needed to know about transpiring messages. She was excited to continue to expand her spying work in the coming months now that she knew how to carefully send information.
Irene glanced up at the clock, cruelly reminded that she would have to head to work in a few hours. She wished she could meet up with the allies and read updates, but if she was to please Lynch, this was how it had to be.
Irene had heard Cassie was apparently going to be part of the mission for publicity purposes, just as Irene expected her to be. That made her wonder if the others would be there as well, including Lillian. She prayed deep down the operation would go smoothly. They were this close to breaking free from Lynch and his corrupt ideals. This would be a major stepping stone in ending his reign.
Irene shut her laptop and washed her coffee cup out in the sink before heading back into her bedroom to change. She sighed as she ran a brush through her hair and put on a fresh clothes. Irene leaned forward into the mirror as she applied her make-up, desperately wishing she could just stay curled up in bed all day.
Irene grabbed her things, about ready to head out the door when her landline began to ring. She paused and picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Oh, Irene, this is Susan from the front desk," her secretary said.
"Is everything okay?" Irene wondered, unaware they even had her new number after moving out of her parents' place. She supposed it had been provided to them with the move. "I'm just about to head out."
"That's what I'm calling you about. Don't bother coming here first. Lynch just called. He wanted to speak to you. You can head over to work after," Susan explained.
Irene paused, feeling her heart begin to race. Was it just coincidental that Lynch happened to request her the day of their operation? Susan spoke about it so nonchalantly, as if it wasn't clear to her that Irene would probably not show up to work in the afternoon.
"What did he call about?" she asked. "Why didn't he call me here?"
"He just wanted to talk to you. It didn't sound like anything serious. I think he thought you came in a bit earlier, like you normally do. Said you were such a hard worker. Anyway, I'll take care of things until then."
"O-Okay. See you soon," she said, shaking as she hung up the phone. Irene buried her face into her hands. Should she run away now? Or risk being killed about twenty minutes from now? She paced around her apartment for a few minutes. She still didn't know what Lynch wanted to talk about it. It may have been something completely irrelevant. The longer she kept him waiting, the more upset he might be.
Irene took a deep breath and stepped outside, shading her eyes from the sunlight. She knew the route to Lynch's office too well and held her breath as she stepped into the building in the center of headquarters. Permission had already been given for her to access Lynch's floor. He had clearly been waiting for her.
Irene stepped into the elevator, her life flashing before her eyes. She had to keep it together. If Lynch truly didn't suspect a thing, she might easily raise his suspicions by acting so nervous. Worst came to worst, she'd just try to take him out here and now.
The ding of the elevator made Irene jump. She walked slowly down the hall to his office, the door looming in the distance. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest, and her legs felt like jelly, but Irene took a deep breath. She could do this.
She opened the door to Lynch's office, finding him sitting at his desk, sipping on a cup of either tea or coffee. Either way, something was steaming from his mug. It had a familiar odor to it, but she couldn't place what it was.
"Irene, what took you so long? It should only be a twenty minute walk from your apartment," Lynch said.
"I was running late today. Didn't even have time to eat breakfast when my secretary called," Irene answered, standing near the door. She snuck a glance behind her at the window, but it seemed security was nowhere in sight. What was this meeting about?
"Won't you take a seat?" he asked, pointing to the chair across from him.
"Why did you call me here?" Irene wondered. "I was just about to head to work. I thought you wanted me to be productive."
"I haven't checked up on you in a while. Can't two old friends talk?" he asked innocently as Irene took a seat. "Coffee? Tea?"
"I'm all right," she muttered.
"Hm, you never were one for hospitality. I wanted to continue congratulating you on your improvement. I really am most impressed. You've been working overtime, dedicating yourself to your career. It's a step up from Miguel's work anyway," Lynch grumbled.
"He's not doing so well?" she asked.
"His productivity rate has been slacking, but yours has most definitively improved. We ended our meeting last time a little coldly, so I wanted to invite you here this time for some pleasant chatter, to marvel in our success," Lynch said.
Irene blinked. Was he just playing dumb? Or did he really know next to nothing about the undercover spy work she had been partaking in behind his back for months?
"Thank you," she murmured. "But that's all? You're not here to ask for information, to tell me to improve?"
"There's always room for improvement, but I doubt there's any more information you can offer me. This is just a bit of a friendly gathering," he said, leaning forward and exhaling almost directly on her face.
Irene's face scrunched up. "Sir, have you been drinking?" she asked, his breath reeking of alcohol. She glanced at his cup, but it certainly looked full of coffee.
"Ah, just put a little bit in my coffee. It's a habit sometimes," Lynch said.
Irene smirked a little. Perfect. A full-scale attack on one of the Preservers' military bases is scheduled at any moment, and he's drunk. This is almost too easy.
"Then there's nothing else you had to say to me besides the fact you're happy I'm improving?" Irene asked.
"Yes, precisely. Just a friendly conversation," he said, standing up from his chair.
"What are you doing?" Irene asked, spinning around to face him.
"Sitting behind that desk gets so boring at times. It's almost too threatening. This is a friendly talk, isn't it? I'd rather speak face to face without that desk in front of us."
Irene stiffened a bit in her seat. She had never felt comfortable in the presence of Lynch, but this was a new kind of discomfort that made her squirm. He wasn't being overbearingly authoritative. He was taking on an entirely different personality that twisted her stomach.
"Sir?" she asked.
"I've always taken a particular interest in you," Lynch said, pacing around the space in front of her. "Your affairs are quite thrilling. I apologize again about you and Miguel breaking things off. It must've been difficult."
"It's...okay," Irene said, gulping.
"But now that Miguel is gone, we can get to know each other a little better, don't you think?"
Irene began scooting away from Lynch slightly. "Sir, what do you mean?"
Lynch drew closer to her in an instant, a devious look on his face. He hummed, then stepped behind her. Irene dug her fingers into the chair's fabric, her heart racing harder than ever. She jumped as Lynch snaked his hands around her neck and down her arms.
"S-Sir?"
"You know, Irene, I've always found you quite...attractive," he whispered into her ear. She shuddered, watching his hand move until it cupped around her right breast and gently squeezed.
That was enough to set her off. Without even thinking of the consequences, Irene smacked his hand away and stood up, kicking the man in the groin before he had time to react. He howled and sunk to the ground as Irene threw her foot into his side, knocking him fully onto his back.
"Don't you fucking dare touch me," she hissed, keeping one foot on his shoulder and the other on his left hand.
Lynch growled, trying to break free from her grip, but she dug her foot harder into his hand and twisted it, causing him to let out another groan of pain.
"You're disgusting, absolutely disgusting," Irene sneered. "You're just like him. Don't you have a wife?"
"Sh-she's aged," Lynch stammered.
"If you ever lay a hand on me again, so help me God, I'll kill you right here," Irene warned, her eyes flaming with rage. "Did you think you could get away with something like that because you're all 'high and mighty?' You're a manipulative and disgusting bastard. To think that you called me in here for something like that." She stomped down on his hand again, causing him to let out a cry of pain.
"I doubt I'm the only ever woman you've done that to, too. Maybe they've submitted to you because they're scared, but I'll kick your ass even harder if you try pulling a move like that again. I don't mess around. God, I'm tired of men. I'm so sick of men," Irene complained, slowly removing her feet from Lynch's body.
He slowly sat up, rubbing his neck.
"Fuck you," she hissed before rushing out of his office.
Irene rushed out of the building, expecting security to come after her at any moment. Her cheeks were flushed, and her heart was beating rapidly, but there was something thrilling about finally being able to put Lynch in his place. She sprinted out of the building, back to her apartment.
There was no use sticking around anymore. Lynch would find out soon she was sending messages or would throw her in prison for attacking him. Irene quickly grabbed her duffel bag and began to pack, throwing whatever clothes and items she could find. She had to get out of here quickly, this afternoon, most likely. Where she would go, she wasn't sure, but she knew it was no longer safe to remain here.
A knock came at her door. Irene paused, throwing her bag under her bed and burying it under some blankets. She walked to the door, not surprised to see Lynch standing outside. His hair was not slick back and composed as it normally was, and he was rubbing the hand she had repeatedly stomped.
"Did you think you can just—"
Irene grasped his wrist. "Get out. Get out of my goddamn house, or I swear to God—"
Before either of them had any time to react, a voice signaled out of Lynch's walkie-talkie.
"Getting reports of a possible attack on Military Base 1. Security was down a half hour ago, looks like armies are coming in. Lynch? What's the call, Lynch?"
Irene slowly let go of Lynch's hands, watching him pick up the radio.
"I'm heading back to my office now." He turned, narrowing his eyes at Irene, as if to say that this matter wasn't finished yet, before he spun around and ran away.
Irene took a step back and slammed the door, locking herself inside her apartment. She slowly sunk against the door and placed her face into her hands, letting out an anguished scream.