Chapter Seventy-One

D ULCE HADN'T BEEN to the office in a long time, despite having an apartment in the city provided by the BEA. Field agents were rarely needed in DC, at least not technically. Joseph was around to handle anything that occasionally popped up, and there'd been two retired agents in nearby Virginia to handle extra difficult tasks. It was only in the last year that the agent pool had dwindled so precipitously, but then she was always on the road, saving the world.

She walked into the main building, her shadow helping her up the stairs. Willem had basically been in her sight since Joseph left the hospital the previous night. But he'd gone quiet. She figured he was working, assessing threats and making sure he was ready to keep her alive and safe. The city had been alive in the morning, active and alert, a strange dichotomy to the previous few days — the bleak loneliness in the hospital and the impenetrable black before.

But it was time to go to work, time to get shit done. And if there was one thing Dulce did well, it was getting shit done.

She did a quick shake of her head at the front door to clear the cobwebs out, the lingering effects of the opioids and the unconsciousness, then pulled the door open and strode into the Main Interior building as if she had been there every day for the past year and knew every little thing about the building, thankyouverymuch. The lackadaisical guard sitting at the front entrance eyed her briefly, his gaze lingering a bit on her behind, but he returned his attention to the newspaper in front of him. She ignored him right back, though she was a little surprised at the almost complete lack of security for the building.

The BEA offices were down the hall, and she lead the way, her muscled shadow following right behind. She opened the door and stepped into the reception area.

Robert sat up straight behind his desk, coming up from a rather relaxed position.

"Uh, hello," he said quickly. "Can I— wait, I think I know you."

"Dulce Gomez," she said.

Robert smiled and snapped at her. "I knew I knew you," he said. He walked around the desk and wrapped her in a big hug.

Dulce accepted it, not really knowing any other option, though she definitely wouldn't have initiated the hug herself.

"What are you doing here?" Robert asked.

"Uh," Dulce said, "I'm, I guess, here under medical orders. Out of the field for a bit."

"Oh?" Robert said, leaning against his desk.

"Got shot in New York," Dulce said.

Robert peeked around Dulce and smiled at Willem. "And who's your friend?" Robert asked.

"Willem," Dulce said, stepping out of the way with a sigh. She knew Robert would likely hit on Willem.

Robert waved, a friendly sort of thing.

Willem nodded, his big bushy beard moving ever so slightly with his head.

"Is Joseph here?" Dulce asked.

"No," Robert replied. "He's at a hearing. But provided he did what we planned for him to do, I'm thinking he'll be back soon."

The door opened behind Willem, and Willem spun, hand on the holster resting against his lower back.

Nate smiled, walking into the room.

An ebullient Joseph followed.

"Success," he said, hand up high.

"Nice!" Robert said, holding a hand up for a five.

No one gave it to him.

"What's going on here?" Dulce asked.

"Right," Joseph said, "to work."

He stepped around Dulce and moved towards his own office.

"Robert, Dulce, with me please."

Willem started to follow, but Nate put a hand on the mans's chest.

"Not us."

Dulce frowned. This was all very strange to her.

Joseph's office was a hoarder's dream, provided said hoarder wanted to keep reams and reams of paper. There were stacks everywhere, every seat piled high with folders. Old leather-bound books towered on top of shelves and filing cabinets. Filing cabinets which would have no way of being opened because there wasn't enough room to get the drawers out of the cabinet.

The lone clear space was the chair in which Joesph plopped himself.

"Take a seat," he said, not bothering to acknowledge the complete lack of sitting options in his office while he logged into his computer.

"I think I'll stand," Dulce said.

Robert snickered.

"What?" Joseph asked, looking around.

"Nothing," Robert said.

"Where are we on New York?" Joseph asked.

"Right. So, as I said, there's been some issues with that," Robert replied.

"Which are?"

"You lost all the books and that artifact."

"But what do we know about the cult or the thing they're trying to bring through?"

"Didn't you say Sa—" Dulce started.

"Stop it there," Robert said.

"But—"

"Didn't we go over this with you?" Joseph said.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," Dulce replied.

"Don't say the name."

"It's not like this guy is Beetlejuice—"

"Not exactly, but there's more similarities there than you'd realize. Don't say any names here. We give them all code names for a reason."

"Okay, well, what's this one's code name?"

"Cayden," Robert said with a snide smile.

"Cayden?" Dulce asked. "Seriously?"

"What? He stood me up."

"Do you name all apocalyptic entities after your ex-boyfriends?"

"Seems appropriate," Robert said with a huff.

"Um, ego—"

"Enough!" Joseph snapped. "I don't care what we call the thing as long as it isn't the thing's actual name."

"Cayden is a bit of a mystery," Robert said. "We've only got limited information about him—"

"Do we know its gender?" Dulce interrupted to ask.

"No," Robert said, "but Cayden is a male name so I'm pulling that gender into it. I can use she if you like, but we're talking about a serious asshole here."

"Him is fine," Dulce said, wishing there was a seat. She was starting to feel tired, the effects of her injuries settling in. An intense pain was radiating out from her midsection.

"I've looked at our database, and we do have a book that seems to be about Cayden, but I haven't exactly had a chance to read through it yet."

"What are you waiting for?" Joseph asked.

"I don't like to go into the bubble if there isn't someone to get me out."

"You got stuck in there ONE time," Joseph shot back.

"It's an incredibly confined space, Joseph," Robert shouted. "I don't like being in there to begin with, let alone sitting in the damn thing overnight."

"Easy," Dulce said, putting her hand on Robert. She was starting to think Joseph and Robert spent a little too much time working together. "What's the bubble? Maybe I can go in instead—"

"Perfect," Robert said. "She can go in."

"She can't go in," Joseph replied. "She's injured."

Robert crossed his arms and frowned.

"I don't want to go," he whined.

"Do your damn job," Joseph snapped.

Robert stomped out of the office.

"You'll need to go with him, I'm afraid," Joseph said to Dulce.

"Can you just loop me into what's going on here?" Dulce asked.

"Short version, there's someone trying to bring something really bad through."

"The usual."

"Right, except they're getting pretty close, at least, as far as we can tell. We don't have specifics, but, well, the books you got were taken from my room, as was the artifact Brittany found. Robert seems to think that artifact is the key to the next ritual, which means it could happen any day now."

"Brittany is okay?"

"She is. At least as far as I know. I haven't heard from her yet today, had a few fires to postpone this morning. She and Bo are still in New York. They're the field team for this op."

"What about Oregon?"

"Oregon is being handled by Carson and Pat."

"Don't you think that they might be better served coming to New York and—"

"If what we've heard from the FBI is true, there's something very close to happening in Portland, so we need them there."

"So there's two events close to happening."

"That seems to be the case."

"And you're fighting something of a paper war here."

Joseph nodded.

"Don't you think, maybe there's something else going on? That someone is targeting us? Getting all of us out of the way for something?"

"That has been on my radar, yes."

"Then—"

"It's on my radar, Dulce. That's as much as you need to know. Once the impending apocalypse is back to being a theoretical one, I'll start working on the next problem. But for the moment, go find out who's behind the thing in New York.

Dulce opened her mouth to say something, to argue for the inclusion of the other actual agents instead of the brand-new Bo and the miniature Barbie Brittany. But Joseph held up his hand and shook his head.

"Leave Oregon to the other team," he said. "Focus on New York."

She stood there a moment longer, running through a few potential arguments in her head, but none of them seemed to hold water. So she nodded and left the office.

Joseph took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. He repeated the procedure a few more times until he felt like he had himself under a better measure of control.

Then he checked his email.

He clapped his hands together. He'd gotten the response he'd been hoping for.

He grabbed the phone and dialed Brittany's hotel room.

"Hello?" a pleasant female voice answered.

"Brittany," Joseph said, "It's Joseph."

"Good morning, sir," she said.

"Not necessary to, well, whatever. Where are you in the New York event?"

"Let's see: I had to get Bo out of prison this morning because he was arrested last night. Travis had an episode because we had an unexpected encounter with a, uh, I don't know what you'd call it, but Robert knows though. This group seems to have set up potential interview subjects as traps for us, so I'm hesitant to talk to anyone else from that list we found."

"What do you mean traps?"

"This woman, she uh, like, died, right? And then something came through her body and attacked us."

"But you're okay?"

"I am. I had to burn the apartment down, and Travis is, uh, more than a little shaken up. But both Bo and I are good to go."

"Travis is your tactical operator?"

"Yeah."

"And he witnessed the event?"

"Sort of. He was there for the start, but then he, well, he broke. I carried him from the burning building, which do I get a medal for that? And then I took him back to the hotel where he spent the night unconscious. Unresponsive. This morning, he talked to me."

"Interesting. We've only done limited research into the long term reactions to such exposure. Keep an eye on him."

"No offense, Joseph, but I don't really have an extra eye right now. Can we, maybe, trade Travis out for someone?"

"I'll discuss that with Nathan today."

"Thanks."

"But this group—"

"Noble Mystery. We got a little from the, well, from Kerri before she died. Definitely a cult. Definitely had something going with a series of books. They used their offices as a reading area, had their people reading books over and over. And then there were rituals. Progression style, I think. At least, I think that's what Dulce would have called it. They seem to grow in intensity. Both sex and blood types, but our witness was cagey at best. She definitely knew she'd been left as a trap because she hadn't left the group. This was her chosen path, which is seriously fucked up, sir. I mean, Joseph."

"This sounds serious," Joseph replied. "What's your next move?"

"I mean, I'm a bit stumped on that path," she said. "There are other names on the list, but I don't exactly want to tackle them one at at time and have them unleash, you know, more whatever those things are onto us. We're not particularly equipped too handle it at present."

"What does that mean?"

"Bo's untested and untrained and unequipped. It's essentially me going solo here, and I'm not comfortable—"

"Save the names then," Joseph interrupted. "I've got someone I need you to meet."

"You're the boss, boss," she replied. "Who's the guy?"

"He's, well, he's someone the BEA worked with in the past, mostly as an informant. He's very well tapped into the, uh, scene, if you know what I mean."

"Not exactly, but I think I can figure it out."

"Right. His name is Denis, and he'll meet you in The Burger Joint for lunch. Go through Le Parker Meridien Hotel lobby, and around the corner, there's a burger dive sort of place. Take a booth, buy two extra burgers, extra fries, and extra milk shakes. Cash only. He'll know you."

"We're buying him lunch?"

"Burgers, fries, milk shakes. Yes."

"Okay. Do I get reimbursed for this?"

"Serious—"

"I'm kidding, Director."

"I think he'll be able to give you a direction to go on."

"Okay."

"Just, well, he's a bit odd. Just be aware of that."

"Okay," Brittany said, sounding as if she was done with the conversation and just wanted to get off the phone with the old man.

"Good luck," Joseph said. "Stay safe."

"You too."