Chapter 8

 

 

Just like that, things were different. First it was the looks. Jay had no sooner closed the door to her office with Morris inside than I started to pick up on the glances. My peripheral vision is excellent, a bit wider than human standard. Mother said it was just happy circumstance, normal genetics, as she too had an exceptional range of side vision, and not the result of anything she designed.

 

So I noticed the looks. Eve’s were the most numerous, but Alice, Seth, and Amy all did it too. Interestingly, not Mazar or Mitch, but of course, they were both survivors from Krupp’s old team. I knew that Mazar knew of my relationship with Omega, and Mitch knew how close I had been with Declan and that the kid witch was the progenitor of Omega. Thus… no surprise for them.

 

Eve had been working madly at her workstation but glancing at me repeatedly. Finally she got up and approached my desk.

 

“Caeco?”

 

“Yes, Eve,” I answered, aware that the others were paying attention.

 

“Do I really just speak to it? To… him?”

 

“Yup. Much easier than typing. He can’t be everywhere but he can cover a big chunk of everywhere. Right, Omega?” I said, watching her eyes as I did.

 

“Yes, Caeco. Just speak to me, Agent Putman. I’m listening.”

 

Eve’s eyes got huge, but she nodded. “Okay. I think I should focus on the two IP addresses in Holmesburg.”

 

“I concur.”

 

Instantly, Eve turned, rushing back to her workstation, talking to Omega about her thoughts on tracking down the users of those internet addresses.

 

I stayed busy, writing up my report on the excursion to central New York. Every agent on the team was required to record their observations and give a thorough statement detailing their own actions. The glances continued and an hour later when Jay let Morris leave her office, he too glanced at me before heading back to his desk. The fact that he didn’t pack up immediately gave me the impression that he might still be part of the team.

 

I finished my report and sent it to Amy to be collated with Agents Allen and Jay’s own versions. Then I grabbed my pistol bag from my bottom drawer and headed down to the range get in some practice.

 

It’s almost a daily ritual, at least when we’re in DC and in the office. I grew up shooting weapons, all kinds of weapons, every single day of my childhood. Shoot houses, computerized Hogan’s alleys, clearing buildings of live military operators with Simunition-equipped ammo, long distance sniper courses, heavy weapons testing grounds, you name it, I used it. The act of putting bullets on target is somehow almost like Zen for me. It grounds me and helps calm and de-stress me. Doesn’t matter if the targets are mobile, robotic 3D interactive units, or pieces of paper with concentric circles around a bullseye. My field trip with Morris and Agent Jay had taken a few days out of my training, so I needed a little range therapy.

 

None of the range officers or other shooters were surprised to see me. In fact, my standard two hundred rounds of 9mm were already waiting for me when I stepped up to be assigned a lane.

 

The next hour flew by, the in-range target computer on my lane providing me with a variety of shooting drills to keep me sharp. Each paper target was labeled with date, time, range, or drill, along with any notes to myself about my shooting, then filed in a portfolio that I kept with my range bag.

 

“It’s like she drilled them with a machine press,” someone outside the range said. Each lane had a camera behind it and the resulting view of the shooter was constantly projected on a monitor in the hallway outside the range.

 

“Machine is the right word. She never varies, never misses,” a second voice said. No idea who the first guy was, but the second guy was an HRT member I knew from training.

 

“Who is she?” the first voice asked.

 

“Special Threat Response.”

 

“Oh. That one.”

 

“Yeah. The freak.”

 

Okay Mr. HRT, that’s fine. Next time I train with your group, I’ll just have to see that you get some personal attention. Like I said, I’ve heard it before.

 

“Hey, I thought you were on vacation? Something about a beach, I believe?”

 

“Oh we just got back. It was great.”

 

Vacation. Despite my acceptance at Arcane, there were still a number of differences between me and most of the other kids. Vacations were one. I’ve never had one. My only trips to the beach were for SEAL-led water operations… mostly at night. All of my forays to the mountains were for training, either climbing, rappelling, or survival, or all three. With usually just a knife. Sometimes not even that. My close group of friends were not all that traveled either, Mack and Jetta only able to remember a few family trips, Ashley having just her dad, and Declan’s aunt keeping him close to home and under the radar. But they had all had at least some form of family trip that was originated with the intent to relax and refresh. Not me. I couldn’t even really imagine what that might be like.

 

I moved my gear off the lane, cleaned my pistol at a station approved for just that sort of thing, and then reloaded two of my four magazines with standard Bureau-issued hollow-point bullets and two with issued silver anti-were ammo. My Glock had been provided to me with four fifteen-round magazines, an excellent holster, and matching magazine carriers. Call me paranoid but I had another three mags that I had purchased myself, all loaded with witch-charmed ammo. Two of those were loaded with ammo that our team had contracted for with a strong Circle. The third was ammo that Jetta had given me—charmed by Declan. I had zero doubt which ammo was best.

 

Duty weapon cleaned, lubed, and reloaded for battle, I grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria and headed back to the team area. Walking in, I found Agent Jay standing in the center of the room as Mitch, Alice, and Seth started to pile black field bags of equipment near the door, while Eve and Morris worked with heads down, typing like lunatics on their keyboards.

 

“She’s back,” Amy Bell announced with her standard little smile. “Like clockwork.”

 

“Ah, there you are. Are you ready to head out? We’re leaving earlier than I anticipated,” Agent Jay said.

 

“Yup. Go bag ready to roll,” I said, moving to my desk to exchange my range gear for my go bag, as well as the slim black computer case that Ashley Moore had given me when the Bureau had first hired me. It was my version of a briefcase, holding a small tablet, pens, pencils, paper, notebooks, a thin plastic ruler and measuring tape, and a backup prepaid cell phone, along with a data storage drive, multi-tool, and some other odds and ends. With my case and my go bag, I was ready.

 

Jay wore a kind of half smile as she observed the few steps I took to complete my preparations. By contrast, most of the other agents were still cramming gear and equipment into cases and bags. Alice Barrows had multiple gun cases, and I moved over to help her carry them. Seth Harwood, on the other hand, just had a bulging briefcase, but it was actually bigger than his own ready kit.

 

Grabbing two soft-sided rifle cases in one hand, a hard-shell Pelican case in my other, and with both of my own bags slung on my back, I headed out and down to the garage level.

 

Mitch was already at the big government Chevrolet Suburban assigned to us, and he just nodded when I set my load inside the cargo compartment. Alice was right behind me with four more long gun cases and her own gear, giving me an odd look as she put her stuff in the vehicle. As I headed toward the elevator to help the others, her soft words to Mitch reached my ears.

 

“She just carried the hard case by herself, one-handed.”

 

“Good. Saved me from having to lug it with you,” he said, voice normal.

 

“Shhh. She’ll hear you.”

 

“Yes, and I bet she already heard you too,” he said with a snort. “What’s left?”

 

“From my stuff?” she asked, voice a little distracted, which in my experience probably meant she was watching me walk away. “Nothing. The others are on the way down and have all their stuff.”

 

I stopped walking and started to turn just as the elevator doors opened and disgorged the rest of the field team: Jay, Mazar, and Harwood.

 

“Let’s go. I want to be at the hotel and set up for business before dinner,” Jay said, claiming shotgun while Mitch took the driver’s seat. That left myself in the third row seat with Chana Mazar, while Seth and Alice sat in the middle row.

 

“Everyone ready? Forget anything? Bathroom breaks will not be a thing, so speak now or hold your pee,” Agent Jay said with a smirk. Mitch gave her a look of mock disappointment and a shake of his head while the four of us in the back ignored her pun. Then he put it in drive and pulled out of Headquarters and into traffic.