“So we have no idea who these people are.” Sara turned her glass around in her hands a few times, watching the ice clink together and salt flake off on her hand. “And we have no way of knowing what else they’ve got planned, or how much of that stuff is in circulation already. No leads, no clues.”
“That’s how these things go, sometimes,” Rowan told her. “We’ll catch them, Sara. Not every case can be wrapped up in a tidy hour-long package. Frog’s made good progress on his broad-spectrum counter-formula. In a few days we’ll be able to dispense it to hospitals and police departments with orders to dose everyone exhibiting symptoms.” He looked at her keenly, then asked, “How are you doing, really?”
“I don’t know.” She looked down at her drink, her eyes burning. “This whole thing gets harder and harder every day. Just when I think I’ve gotten used to the idea of what really goes on in this place…I mean, what next? Someone I care about is almost killed every time I turn around, and now…now I’m killing people too.”
“Believe me, I know how you feel. I’ve shot five people now.”
“Does it get easier?”
“No. It’s always terrible—every life taken diminishes us, even when it’s for what we think is a good reason.”
“Beck and Jason don’t seem so hung up on the idea. It’s like they’re numb to it.”
“They’re not numb, they’re just…they have a different perspective, a wider one. I’m very old, Sara, but my experience in the world is limited compared to theirs. My people tended to see things in black and white, when in reality there is no such thing. Dr. Rosenberg knew that turning coat on the Agency would likely get him killed. Whatever his reasons were, he chose the consequences by choosing his actions. So did you. We make our decisions as best we can, and for better or worse, there’s always a cost.”
Sara took a deep, slow breath, letting it out as if she could exhale her guilt and frustration with the carbon dioxide. Finally she decided to change the subject, for now. “So he kissed you,” she said, grinning.
Rowan blushed. “Um…yes. Quite a bit.”
“And he asked you out. A vampire asking an Elf out on a date. That’s so adorable I might just throw up.”
He laughed, and commented, “Now I know you’ve been spending too much time at the range with Beck.”
“Are you happy?”
“Happy…yes. And terrified out of my mind. But I guess we’ll see where this goes.”
Now it was her turn to laugh. “Oh, honey, I’m pretty sure the whole Agency knows where it’s going.”
Almost on cue, someone knocked, and Rowan smiled again, and said, hardly loud enough to be heard, “Come in.”
The alarm beeped, and SA-7 appeared in the doorway looking exhausted and aggrieved. He started to smile, but then saw Sara and grew a little flustered.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You have company. I’ll come back later.”
“No, it’s okay,” Sara insisted. “I’ll go. I need to go check in on Sage anyway.”
“What’s wrong?” Rowan asked, gesturing for Jason to sit on the other end of the couch.
The Agent didn’t flop down, exactly, that would have been far too inelegant for him, but he sat heavily and nodded to Rowan’s offer of a drink. “Dead ends and dead friends,” he said; he sounded every bit as tired as he had just after the lockdown. “Pentecost is showing up all over town. We’ve had eleven confirmed cases so far this week. Luckily the first batch of Frog’s antidote is going out tomorrow, and all the cases so far have been the mild kind.”
“Any evidence yet about the source?” Sara asked.
“Not a damn thing. Forensics went over that warehouse with a fine-toothed comb and found nothing. It was a red herring if it was anything. We’ve got Agents analyzing Rosenberg’s files—he had a dummy email account and a burner phone he used to communicate with his bosses. Patel thinks she may have a lead, some recovered data from his hard drive, but so far, nothing useful.”
Rowan brought him a margarita, and he downed it almost in a single gulp. “To make matters worse I had to go out in the field tonight with a complete neophyte for an Ear.”
“Why’s that?”
He looked at Sara sharply. “Tanya died,” he replied. “She overdosed. She was the senior Ear, and we’d worked together for years.”
“I’m sorry.”
Rowan caught Sara’s eye, and she nodded and stood up. “I’ll see you guys later. Get nice and drunk and fool around, you’ll feel better.”
She had the incredible satisfaction of seeing Jason turn, for the briefest possible second, just a little pink.
*****
Sara stared at the object in her hand, then back up at the row of people sitting at the long table before her, unable to think of a single thing to say.
“Thank you,” she finally stammered.
Ness smiled at her. “Keep up the good work, Trainee Larson. I’m looking forward to sending you out in the field.”
Nodding, Sara moved out of the way so that the next person in line—Frog—could receive his plaque, an award for Special Services to the Shadow Agency. It was the highest honor a non-Agent could receive; once someone got the badge he or she was in a whole different class of merit awards.
She looked over at SA-7, who gave her a nod of approval.
Compared to Frog, who had almost single-handedly created the antitoxin for Pentecost that had already saved a lot of lives, she felt undeserving, but Ness had rattled off a list of her contributions to the assembled committee and they had approved the award unanimously.
She wandered back to her seat, next to Rowan, who kissed her cheek and beamed at her. “I’m not going to say I told you so,” he murmured. “But I’m proud of you.”
She smiled, still a bit bewildered—she’d expected another debriefing, not this.
“All right,” Ness said after handing Frog his plaque, “next on the agenda, staff dispositions. Everyone is free to go except Dr. Samir Lajavardi, Agent Trainee Sara Larson, Lead Baker Sage McGowan, and Admin Mike Blass. Oh, and SA-5, if you wouldn’t mind staying as well.”
The rest of the assembled staffers who’d had things to discuss or hear at the meeting shuffled out, and those who remained moved up to the front instead of staying scattered around the room.
Sara looked over at Sage, who gave her an uncertain smile. She’d become much quieter lately, less fiery, and it saddened Sara. She probably expected to be discharged today—in fact, she’d hinted that she was hoping for it, as baking wasn’t exactly her favorite activity anymore. Sara hoped that in time she’d regain her love for it, not just because the newly hired baker couldn’t compare…not that it mattered at the moment, really, since nobody wanted to eat anything with sugar in it.
She listened as the panel—Ness, Jason, Dru, Dr. Nava, the new lead Ear, and the head of R&D—informed Dr. Lajavardi that he would be promoted to senior physician, Dr. Rosenberg’s old post, Nava’s second-in-command. Obviously this was not a surprise to the doctor, but more of an official appointment; he looked pleased but not taken aback.
Mike Blass, one of the regular Admins, was moved to R&D to replace their Admin who had died in the attack. A few new people had been hired throughout the base, but the R&D Admin had a lot of unusual duties so they had wanted to promote someone from the inside for the post.
“Now, Ms. McGowan,” Ness said, pulling out Sage’s file, “your turn. SA-5, you had a report on Sage’s psychic condition since the attack?”
“Yes. Ms. McGowan’s telepathic level has been elevated from 3.5 to 5, as you know, due to the effects of Pentecost. It’s my opinion that with a little training she could work up to a 6. She’s displayed remarkable adaptability in the situation. Her shielding technique is superb, and her projection and reception seem to be equally strong.”
“Good, good. Now, Sage, I have heard that after what you’ve been through you’d like to leave the kitchens. I hate to lose you in there—your buttercream is probably the finest sub
stance on Earth—but I understand your reluctance to stay. Now, before you put in your notice as I’m sure you were planning, I’d like to suggest an alternative.”
“Yes ma’am,” Sage acknowledged, swallowing.
“Agent Trainee Larson, on Monday you’ll be starting your training on the Ear interface, and I’d like for you, Ms. McGowan, to join her. Your telepathy is more than strong enough, and we’re badly in need of another person in that department. SA-7 needs someone of at least a level 5 to keep up with his abilities, so our hope is that you’ll be able to work together.”
Sage’s mouth dropped open. “You want me to be an Ear? SA-7’s Ear?”
“That’s what I had in mind, yes.”
“Me?”
“Unless you know another Sage McGowan sitting in your chair, yes.”
She looked at Sara again, and Sara gave her a thumbs-up. “Um…can I have a little time to think it over?”
Ness smiled. “Of course, as long as we have an answer before Monday. Now, if there are no questions or further points of discussion, we can adjourn.”
*****
Sage and Sara walked along the paved path through the gardens, enjoying the fact that it was too late in the evening for the sun to punish them both for the insolence of going outside in Texas in August.
“You’ll never guess,” Sara said. “The other members of SAPEA asked me to take over.”
Sage snorted. “Because you’re such a masochist?”
“I guess. I said I’d think about it. I’ve already got a lot going on to add ‘herding cats’ to the list.” Sara let her hand trail over the bark of one of the oak trees as they passed, then said, “I was thinking maybe we could co-coordinate, when you’re up to it. Maybe the group could do something besides potlucks and generic Sabbat rituals.”
Sage smiled, some of her old spark coming back. “You mean, if you’re going down you’re taking me with you?”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Well…maybe. We’ll see.”
“Have you made up your mind about the transfer yet?”
“Nope.” Sage’s sandals stirred up a few fallen leaves that had tumbled to the ground in the heat. “I mean, I know it’s not as dangerous or important as being an Agent, but it’s still a pretty big deal.”
“It sure is. I’ve never heard Jason bitch so much—this guy Chris that they’ve got on his Ear right now keeps sending him to the wrong parts of Austin and accidentally routing him personal text messages.”
“He’s kind of scary. To normal people, anyway.”
Sara laughed. “What’s normal around here? He just has high standards, and I’m sure you’d exceed them. You can hardly do worse than Chris. Besides, the secret is Jason’s a big fuzzy teddy bear once you get past the fangs.”
Sage shook her head, smiling down at the ground. “You’re pretty amazing, Sara.”
“Why on Earth would you say that? I’m totally unremarkable—a South Texas girl who got a job as a file clerk.”
“Ha! You mean, a Witch in training to be a secret agent, who talks about vampires like they’re nothing unusual, and who talks to buildings, and is sleeping with an Elf—“
“Oh, didn’t I tell you about that?”
Sage’s eyebrows shot up. “No, what? Come on, don’t hold back!”
She giggled and took Sage’s arm. “First, let me tell you about this fabulous woman I know. She’s a Witch too, and a survivor, and she’s going to be an Ear in a few months. She also bakes the most incredible cookies you’ll ever eat. And the best part is she’s my friend.”
Sage smiled, leaned over, and kissed her cheek. “Thanks. Now, on with the juicy gossip, please.”
“Okay, okay. So, that night that SA-5 and SA-7 went out on duty together to talk to the informant, they stopped for coffee, right? And while they were there, they were talking about how Rowan had never really been to a real bookstore, and…”
Arm in arm, the two women continued along the path, their laughter startling the birds, the sky darkening overhead to let the fireflies dance into view.
Epilogue
Deep in the East side of Austin the sounds of the interstate became a dull oceanic roar. The streets were quiet so late at night except for an occasional booming car stereo thumping its way through the neighborhood or the frantic scrabble of a stray cat or raccoon in a dumpster. The smells of grease and tortillas permeated the block of warehouses, emanating from a restaurant up the street.
[In position,] SA-7 said, his eyes on the faint light in the window. [SA-19, report.]
[Surveillance puts four in the surface building, and at least two dozen underground.]
[Trainee Larson, you’re up.]
He saw a human shape slip out of the shadows and move up to the outer wall of the warehouse, pressing her hands into the metal. Nearby a second figure, armed, was barely visible, his rifle at the ready.
Moments passed before the reply came. [This is it. Four guards, one at each entrance and another at the hatch that leads under the building.]
[Good work. Retreat immediately to the rendezvous.]
[Yes, sir.]
He watched Sara’s guard spirit her away, and signaled to the rest of the team to close in.
[Sage, are the backup units in place?]
[In position,] she replied.
[Cut the power on my mark. Three…two…one…mark.]
[Powering down.]
The lights in all the surrounding buildings flickered, and then went out. Jason smiled. [All teams, prepare for infiltration. SA-20, north entrance. SA-13, west. I’ll take the east. Converge upon the hatch inside. Neutralize any armed suspects and subdue the rest for questioning.]
There was a chorus of [Yes, sir.]
[All teams, advance.]
The guards were probably hired thugs, but even a human with an AK-47 was useless compared to a vampire with six handguns and a grudge. Jason didn’t bother with foreplay—he slipped behind the man and kicked him to his knees, then like a stooping hawk dropped, seized the man by the throat, and twisted viciously upwards, simultaneously crushing his windpipe and snapping his neck. The feeling beneath his hands was far more satisfying than usual.
When the underground hatch flew open and the Agents swarmed in, the 26 people in the drug lab all froze, the floodlights blinding them through their safety glasses.
The place was a mad scientist’s wet dream. Long banks of computers ran along the walls, and there were workbenches with complicated systems of glass tubes and beakers. The whole room stank like burnt caramel.
And there, in the corner, was what remained of an entire pallet of five-pound bags of sugar.
“Federal Agent!” Jason shouted, taking aim at the nearest suspect’s head. “You are all under arrest on at least three counts of felony drug manufacture and trafficking charges, as well as violations to the Texas Occult Code and the Federal Maleficarum Prevention Act. Put your hands in the air!”
Hands went up all over the room. No one tried to resist.
“SA-19, I want a sweep done for any and all incantation texts. Find me whoever’s in charge and get them to Interrogation One back at the base.” He glanced around the room, and the humans who fell under his gaze blanched in fear. “If anyone so much as coughs, shoot them in the head.”
He tapped his Ear. [Sage, I need Interrogation One opened and ready. Also let the informant know we’ve got the situation in hand.]
[Yes, sir. Transport vans for the suspects are in route to the east entrance. Do you need any additional backup?]
[No, I think we’re good for now, but stand by. Oh, and one more thing. If you wouldn’t mind--]
[Tell Rowan you’ll be late,] Sage finished for him, laughing. [As usual, SA-7. Texting him now.]
[And as usual, thank you,] he replied.
SA-19 approached along with another Agent; between the two of them they had a man in a white lab coat restrained with handcuffs. The man was a fairly typical science geek, and was clearly petrified.
The man blubbered something, shaking his head, but Jason wordlessly pulled his gun and held it to the man’s chest.
“You’re lying to a Federal Agent,” he informed the scientist. “Know how I know that? You have on a gold watch and a $200 shirt. The rest of your boys here are in Sketchers and ratty jeans.”
“I don’t know anything!” he sobbed. “I just take the orders!”
“Then you have records somewhere in this building, and I’d really appreciate it if you told us where they are so we don’t waste any more time.”
The Agency, Volume I Page 29