Noah knew it the moment he hit the Ozarks. The smell changed. It wasn't bad, but it was a little riper, a little more farmland-y and loamy than the air from the open spaces he'd driven through on the way here. It certainly did not smell like Miami. The feeling that everything was wrong, or somehow “off” only solidified as he hit the foothills and drove farther and farther away from civilization.
Special Agent Derek Westerfield had offered him a job a while ago, and Noah had turned him down flat. But this time, it had been Noah reaching out, and Westerfield hired him from that initial inquiry call. Interesting that he could join one division of the Bureau while on forced administrative leave from another branch, but he got the feeling that Westerfield’s division didn’t operate the same way as the others.
Still, the fact that Noah had immediately been sent out on an assignment was beyond disturbing.
There had only been a phone call and a few emails. They hadn’t even met in person—ever.
But now he was now a specially deputized consultant—the only way Westerfield could give him a gun and badge without alerting the Miami branch. Noah had never heard of that, but the new boss had been far more concerned with getting Noah on the road than with getting him properly up to speed about what he was doing.
During the call, Noah had been able to hear the SAC’s pen tapping on his desk. Westerfield wasn't any happier with the situation than Noah was.
“The wolves you met,” Westerfield had stated when Noah had asked what he would be doing. “There's a family compound of them in the Ozarks. I have reason to believe that an agent who's gone AWOL is headed that way.”
You've got to be shitting me, Noah had thought. He knew what NightShade officers could do—at least, he knew about the ones he’d met.
As he drove along the back roads of Arkansas, Noah reminded himself that he wasn’t completely out of his element. He was, after all, an FBI agent with years in the field. He knew how to handle a gun. He knew the laws pertaining to when he could and couldn't arrest someone, what a warrant could and couldn’t do, and much more. Still, there seemed to be very real differences between the NightShade division and the branches he’d worked in before.
Also Westerfield was sending Noah Kimball out merely ten minutes after being anointed. Noah wasn’t sure he was willing to hunt a rogue agent. He’d used his best per my last email wording. “I'm not sure this is wise.”
“Do you want the job or not?” Westerfield had pushed, not answering the question Noah had implied.
For a moment, he wondered what kind of powers Westerfield might possess himself, if he ran a unit like NightShade.
Noah had almost declined the job, but then again, he had nothing better to do. It was plausible he was going to lose a job that he loved, simply because he was too good at it. Even if he did get his old position back, the agency would investigate him with extra care the next time he made an arrest or—God forbid—shot someone.
At least at the NightShade division, he could use his skills. Maybe not completely openly, but he wouldn't get reprimanded for them. Or put on leave.
Westerfield had been talking, and Noah realized he hadn’t been paying enough attention. “The family compound is in the Ozarks. It was burned to the ground by a madman, but he didn't get all of it. A good portion of it is underground. I'm sending you the coordinates.”
Lovely, Noah thought. Westerfield had taken Noah’s silence as a yes.
“I believe that's where agent Christina Pines is headed.”
Noah took advantage of the brief pause to get his own question in. “If and when I find her—”
“Call me. Let me know that you saw her.” There was an odd pause, and this time, Noah didn't fill it, despite the questions still bouncing around in his head. Sure enough, Westerfield jumped in. “It's possible that when you see her, she'll disappear.”
“I'm sorry. Do you mean like actually disappear?” Noah had to ask. He’d seen Eleri Eames blink in and out of existence more than once. “Is she like Agent Eames?”
His question indicated that he knew just what some other agents could do, even though Westerfield should have already put that together.
“No, not like Eames at all.”
Huh. Noah almost made the sound out loud. Very unprofessional.
“Pines has the mental ability to push the people around her into believing whatever she wants them to. She can make you think the walls are on fire. She can make you think you're in a different city, suddenly, and she can easily make you believe that she was never there at all.”
Noah could make people feel as if they’d been tapped, or that they’d tripped, but… “She can erase my memory?”
“Faster than you can think about it. Yes. So you need to have me on speed dial. And as soon as you get a glimpse of her, you push that button. Honestly, if I answer and you say, ‘I don't remember why I just called you,’ I'm going to assume you just saw Pines.”
Well, hell, Noah thought. This was more than he’d bargained for. He felt like he'd agreed to hear about it, but he hadn’t actually said yes.
But Westerfield was talking again. “You'll be getting more emails. Company card information. Temporary badge, all of that.”
A temporary NightShade badge? He hadn’t been issued one the last time he’d worked with them. Interesting.
“You’ll get these emails within the next hour. By the time you get the last one, I expect you to be packed and hitting the road. Any questions?”
Noah was opening his mouth as Westerfield replied to his own question with, “That's great. Check in from the road.”
And he hung up.