Rogues of Overwatch

by Dustin Martin

Like Heather predicted, Arthur and Sylvia came up empty-handed in their search. Roland Whyte was a private individual whose only known investments were in Overwatch. Overwatch’s main office was in California, and after the FBI obtained a warrant, they cooperated and supplied information about the company and its locations. Other than that, Whyte was clean and in no clear way associated with Rooke. “According to the official documents anyway,” Arthur said. “It’s not like he’d record illegal activities.”

  Arthur wanted to at least question Whyte. However, his current whereabouts were unknown, and no one had seen him in a while. His housekeeper claimed that was normal. “He’s rarely home. Always off at work somewhere.” She let the local police search the place, but they found nothing suspicious.

  All the findings didn’t stop Heather’s paranoia. She was convinced that Whyte had eyes and ears within the Cave. “He’ll know that I told them,” she said, rocking on her bed during one of Gary’s sessions. “If by some miracle he doesn’t get me here, he will out there.” Arthur had a suspicion that she was right, and he assigned extra security to monitor her cell until the transfer. Even with around-the-clock surveillance, Heather refused to spill any other secrets. “I say any more and I definitely won’t make it out of this cell.”

  Lydia believed Heather, too. She shared Arthur’s worry and the Cave seemed a little more open, a little less safe after she’d interrogated Heather. She tried to reason that Heather spooked her, yet the unease remained. Sylvia was the only one who didn’t buy Heather’s claim and remained convinced that Mark and the others had been on a “rescue or silence” mission. “Whyte’s completely clean. Give us something we can use,” Sylvia said, trying to get a rise of out of Heather with the official reports. But it was no good. Heather didn’t tell any more.

  Lydia spent the next few days in deep thought, disturbed by what Heather perceived of her. She hadn’t overcome her hatred. It remained and steadily grew the more she interacted with Heather. Such change and reconciliation for past misdeeds proved difficult on her own. She prayed earnestly about it, begging God to help her rid herself of the burning desire against the woman. “Please help me keep my anger in check and not strangle her.” She also visited Gary the next day, believing some professional counsel wouldn’t hurt.

  “And every time I’m around her, I want to do just that,” Lydia raised her fist and lowered it into her other palm, squeezing it hard.

  Gary yawned and blinked his tired eyes. “Sorry,” he said, grunting and shaking some of the color back into his rosy cheeks. “Haven’t had much sleep lately. Been crammed with sessions.” He trailed off for a moment and flipped through his notepad, reviewing his notes. “This anger you describe,” he said, straightening his polo shirt and looking up, “is it the same as with Finster?”

  “Sort of. I think,” she said, dropping her head on the arm of the sofa. “I thought I was over it. That I could control it.” The faded orange walls and soft sofa cushions encouraged her to nap. Gary’s yawn was contagious, and she failed to bite one of hers down. Maybe he’s learned to influence other people’s emotions instead of their influencing his all the time, she wryly thought. Thankfully, the rotating security camera in the corner of the room kept her awake with its whirring, miniature motor.

  “Is there anything else going on in your life that’s stressing you out? Something that could be contributing to this problem?” Lydia wasn’t in the mood to explain Cooper and Nina’s predicament or her issues with Aidan. “Training can take its toll on many agents.”

  “Yeah, I know. There’s that, but it’s mainly her and when I’m around her.”

  “Could it then be because you’ve been around her more often than you’re used to? Old wounds reopening?”

  “It sounds like it. I don’t want to kill her or anything,” she mumbled into the sofa arm. “Or I don’t intend to.”

  “But you still carry a grudge?” he asked. When she gave him a deadpan expression, he nodded. “Yes, that’s to be expected. Given your circumstances, I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” He stroked his beard and set down his notepad. “What exactly is it that you’re seeking from me, Lydia?”

  “Some way to keep from snapping when I see her,” Lydia said.

  He steepled his fingers to his cherry cluster of a nose. “Did you ever make peace with what they did to your father? Made peace with them, not with his death, I mean.”

  She picked a little lint from the sofa. “You mean forgive her? After what she did to me?”

  “That or at least try to settle the situation somehow. You’ve tried talking to her.”

  “And that makes it worse.” Lydia dug her fingernails into the cushion, remembering how much she wanted to pound in Heather’s smug face. “Is that all I can do?”

  “It sounds that while you’re not actively pursuing revenge, you harbor the same ill will for Heather from before. You’ve confronted part of your problem with your father’s death. Yet you carry a deep-seated resentment. You can settle things with Heather without having to make up and be best friends,” he said, smiling. “Otherwise, if you let this passive grudge fester, I’m afraid you may slip back into a bad place and lose control.”

  “Settle things with Heather?” Lydia said to herself. “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “Start by leaving behind your idea for vengeance and getting even. There is no such thing as ‘even’ in revenge.”

  “Sure, there is,” Lydia said. “It’s right there in the middle.”

  He shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah,” she said, flicking some lint away.

  Gary checked his watch and closed his notepad. “I’m sorry, but I have another appointment.” He gave a longer yawn than before. “Whoa, sorry. I really should take a nap when I have a chance.” As she slid off the sofa, he said, “I’ll help as much as I can, but I can only offer guidance. You have to choose what road you want to take. It’ll get better in time, and I believe the more you confront these feelings, the better control you’ll have.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” she said. “Who knows? Maybe one day I won’t want to break her nose as soon as I see her.”

  “Break whose nose?” Ryan asked, bounding in.

  “Oh, just bad guys, Froggy,” she said, ruffling his hair.

  “Frog, not Froggy,” he pouted and pushed her hand away. “Are you going to beat up bad guys? I want to see!” He seemed to notice Gary and forgot all about watching her fight. “Hey, Gary!”

  “Hey there, Ryan. How are you today?” he asked, patting his knees and crouching to his level.

  “I’m having trouble with that trick you showed. Can you show me again?” Ryan remembered Lydia and tugged on his arm. “Lydia, you got to see this!” His large glassy eyes begged her to stay.

  “Yeah, sure,” she said.

  Gary laughed and picked up a deck of cards from his desk, shuffling them. “Watch closely,” he said, his eyes twinkling with delight. “Now tell me when.” He flipped through the deck, and Ryan stopped him in the middle, selected a card, showed the Queen of Hearts to Lydia, and put it on top of the deck.

  “Now,” Gary said, cutting the cards and then allowing the pair to cut the cards. He shuffled chunks of cards into one another until they were thoroughly mixed. “Is this,” he snapped his fingers and turned over the top card, “your card?” The Queen of Hearts.

  “Cool!” Ryan picked up the card, examining every inch of it. “How do you keep doing that?”

  “Practice, patience, and a little hard work.” He seemed to direct this statement at Lydia.

  She nodded and grinned at Ryan. “I’ll see you later, Froggy.”

  “See you, Beary.” Now she pouted and tickled his side. He shrieked, much to her amusement, and she left him to his session, walking back to her dorm with a security guard escort.

  On the way, she pondered Gary’s advice. Settle things with Heather. Easier said than done. Heather was still alive and well, unlike her father. She hadn’t s
uffered enough, which left Lydia unsatisfied. But she’s behind bars, with people trying to kill her. Combine that with her ability and she’s always at death’s door, her life in shambles. Is that not enough? When was enough? What counted as enough?

  She was lost in thought and didn’t notice their detour to the elevators until they were going up. To her surprise, the guard led her to Arthur’s office, where Aidan and Jando waited as well. Arthur offered them seats and dismissed all of their accompanying guards. “I’ll get right to the point,” he said. “Heather is being moved out of here tomorrow. The FBI is prepared to take her."

  “No more interrogations?” Lydia asked.

  “Not from us.” He tapped his desk. “Sylvia is going with her, but Heather has asked for you to join her as well. Well, specifically Lydia. Frankly, I don’t think it’s a bad idea for all three of you. It’d be nice to have extra security besides Sylvia and our guards. Plus, this is the type of mission we send agents in training on,” he said. “Routine prisoner transfer.”

  “Routine until her friends show up,” Aidan pointed out.

  “That’s why we’re being very cautious,” Arthur said. “Keep this quiet. We only finalized the plan and the route this morning. We’ll be passing her off to the FBI at a safe house. Then you turn around and come straight home.”

  “Where will we be going?” Lydia asked.

  “I’ll give you the details tomorrow morning. The briefing will begin at seven, then you’ll leave. For the time being, you’re allowed free reign of the Cave again. Prepare yourselves in any way, have your equipment checked,” he said, nodding at Lydia’s braces, “and be ready. That’s all. Dismissed.”

  * * *