Supervising Agent Carter frowned as her phone rang. She stared at the caller-ID, certain it was a mistake.
She hesitated behind her large walnut desk. Her feet were planted firmly on the floor. She didn't lean back, didn't believe in recliners. The more time it took to plant her feet, the less time she had to react to a threat.
The cameras in her room weren't so much to keep an eye out while she was present, but rather to keep watch when she went home for the evening. She always had the security team sweep her car before she left as well.
The faint, glowing light from the sun lamp by the window illuminated the large, black drapes which she'd custom ordered to fit her office window. The fabric was lined with strands of Kevlar. The window itself was bulletproof.
But one could never be too careful.
She massaged slowly at her left eye, wincing as she did. Most people didn't notice it was a fake eye. Didn't notice the cosmetic procedures used to smooth the skin along the left side of her face. If they looked closely—which she never allowed them to—they might notice the scarring behind her ear. The fact that her left ear was slightly smaller than her right... They hadn't managed to find all the pieces when stitching her face back together.
The bomb had been placed outside the government building where she'd worked before.
This new assignment, in no small part, was due to her actions on that day, twenty-five years ago. Many, many surgeries since then had been attempted to replace and repair and remove.
But the eye was gone. The skin numb. No sensation in her cheek.
But now, the sensation she felt was a jolt of anger.
The phone continued to ring.
Why was he calling her?
She let it go to voicemail, frowning at her phone, sitting in her dark room. The door to her office was closed. The button beneath her desk activated a buzzer that allowed others entry. The camera over the hall allowed her line-of-sight of anyone attempting to enter.
One could never be too careful...
This was partly her reason for distrusting Dakota Steele. The woman was a liability. Agent Carter knew that much.
Steele had quit after a failed case months before. She had a history of chemical dependency. And the report she'd received from Dakota's old supervising agent had been far from “glowing.”
Now...
It was strange...
That the same supervising agent was trying to call her.
Especially after how he'd been replaced.
And yet...
She scowled. Fingers now tapping in frustration against her desk.
The phone was ringing again.
Dammit.
She reached out, picking up the device. The man was persistent; she had to give him that at least.
“Yes?” she snapped, answering.
“Agent Carter?” came a rasping, smoke-stained voice.
“Yes,” she said. “Drafuss?” She didn't use the term agent. She didn't know if it was appropriate. The man was currently in Wit-sec. But also, any time she tried to pry, information was hidden, moved. Former Supervising Agent Drafuss was not an easy man to find.
“Carter,” Drafuss said, firmly. “You said I ought to call if I needed anything. Well, I need something.”
Carter sighed slowly through her nose. “It was meant more rhetorically, Anthony,” she said firmly. “It's the polite thing to say when you take a man's job.”
Anthony Drafuss coughed on the other line. He cleared his throat. “You're saying you won't help?”
Carter bit her lip. Part of her wanted to flat out refuse... But even though he was no longer an SA... men like Drafuss had a way of making life uncomfortable.
“Call off your dogs, Carter,” Drafuss said at last, seemingly deciding on a tone to take. He hadn't chosen to be gentle. A mistake? Or did he know something she didn't.
“What dogs, Anthony?”
“You know... Why is Dakota Steele requesting information on a redacted case? Why am I receiving phone calls from her? And why...” he said, his voice rasping once more, “is she reported to be working for you again? I thought that was handled?”
Carter sighed. “It was. But her partner wanted her back. I made a call.”
“I made a call. You agreed. Steele wasn't allowed back.”
Carter steepled her fingers now, frowning. “I'm afraid...” she said slowly, taking her time, “that perhaps you must have misunderstood me. Anthony, you are not in a negotiating position. I am now in charge of this branch. So maybe it is best you lose this number.”
She nodded once, reaching to hang up.
“I'll tell,” he said.
She went still.
“Tell what?”
“You know what,” he retorted, and she could hear the anger in his voice. It was shaking now. Emotional. Anthony Drafuss had often been a man given to rage. Erratic, out of control. One of the reasons he was no longer sitting in her office. “If you don't tell your hound to quit sniffing around, I'll tell everyone how you bribed your way into the job.”
“I did no such thing!” Carter snapped. “I earned this position.”
“Yeah? You think your brother's connection to the mayor is gonna be overlooked if I start raising flags?”
Carter snorted. But she paused. She hadn't made it this far by making enemies needlessly. She didn't like being pushed around, but as an authority figure in a chain of command, she knew how to keep rebellion in check. She didn't allow subordinates or superiors to rattle her. Not if she could help it.
So she said, simply, “What are you worried Dakota will find?”
“Nothing. There's nothing. Just tell her to drop it. It's causing headaches. Am I clear?”
Carter considered it. She didn't like Dakota Steele. But she didn't trust or like Anthony Drafuss. She sighed, though, slowly. Then said, simply, “I'll handle it, Anthony. You have my word.”
Then she hung up.