Agent mother other, p.3
Agent. Mother. Other., page 3
Taking a breath, I reset my thoughts and checked for his breath. He was breathing. He was alive. I sighed, releasing an immense weight off my chest. Now to get us out of here.
Crunching footsteps stomped across the grass. My insides constricted with panic. If needed, I would fight. I didn’t care what happened to me, as long as Sam was okay. I reached under the driver’s seat and tried to grab a small black bag stored there.
The passenger side door ripped open, and two figures reached in and began manhandling Sam.
‘NO!’ I screamed as they cut his safety belt and pulled his unconscious body from the e-vehic.
My hand found the bag. I ripped it down and pulled out a small handheld firearm.
Blood from a cut on my head dripped into my eyes, obscuring my vision. I aimed my shaking hand out the passenger door, but then lowered it. I couldn’t risk hitting Sam and making a fatal and unforgivable mistake.
Sam’s legs dragged behind him as they threw him into the e-vehic. I tried to open the driver’s side door to go after them, but it was damaged in the crash and wouldn’t budge. I screamed out in anguish and frustration. My son. They were taking him.
I twisted and dragged myself out the passenger door onto the wet grass as tears mixed with blood dripped down my face.
The headlights of the other e-vehic blinded me, making the heavy raindrops glitter like a mocking shower of golden birthday confetti. As its doors slammed shut, I limped towards them, raised my weapon, and fired. The windscreen glass shattered.
I kept firing even as the e-vehic revved its engine, swung around and streaked away down the road, disappearing into the dark.
My body shook, and I struggled to breathe under the crushing pain. I don’t know when my weapon ran out of ammunition, but my trigger finger continued flexing and releasing empty shot after empty shot.
A single thought thundered through my mind, My baby. They’ve taken my baby!
A streetlight exploded above me in a shower of sparks as a raw scream ripped from my throat. Its force stole away my energy, leaving an empty husk in its place. I fell to the puddled ground, cowering over my knees, and sucked in the cold, wet air. It felt like frigid knives against my throat. My eyes fixated on the shrinking rear lights of the dark e-vehic, not wanting to let it from my sight. And as it turned the corner and disappeared into the night, so too did Sam.
2
Belly of the Beast
It was a long walk home through the relentless storm and my aching limbs complained with each trudging step. I burst through the front door in a torrent of water and wind, then pivoted and with a pained grunt kicked the door closed, the force knocking two family photos off the wall. The frame of my favourite baby photo of Sam smashed on the floor. Another blow to my already broken heart.
The house was quiet compared to the storm outside, and I let the thick silence wash over me, pulling me down into its dark depths. I crumpled to the floor. The car crash had left me battered but not beaten. My body ached from the whiplash, my shoulder joint was sore, and the cut on my head stung, but I was okay. I reached out and pulled the baby picture from the broken frame. Sam’s tiny chubby face with his one tooth smiled up at me. A pained cry caught in my throat as I let the trembling ache roil all over my body. Everything hurt, and I let the pain pull me downwards as I lay on the ground and curled in on myself. Then, I let my feelings take me. Despite the urgency, it was important to feel. That’s what makes us human, after all. I’m not sure how long I lay there releasing my torn feelings while my body shook with grief, but once I had expelled the initial fear and terror, everything snapped into sharp focus. It was time to act.
Time was critical. They knew where we lived, so I needed to get moving and get out of there. I put the baby photo in the pocket of Old Blue and ran to the hallway cupboard and moved aside a box of exercise equipment stored within. It revealed a hidden panel that I pulled off. I grabbed my hidden go bag, a purple backpack covered in peaceful mantras and symbols of mindfulness that I got from a conference years ago. I pulled out a code card from one of the internal pockets and ran over to the kitchen bench to flip a hidden switch next to the stovetop. A whirring metallic noise sounded as part of the bench slid sideways, revealing a hidden holo-projector. I pushed the code card into a slot and the holo-projector flickered to life. An interactive hologram login screen floated in front of me and without missing a beat, I held up my hand for a palm scan, followed by a retinal scan and voice detector. The familiar home screen loaded, and after acknowledging the current threat pop ups, I twisted my hand through the hologram and pulled up the wrist-comm tracking application I had uploaded long ago. It flickered to life and asked for a tracking ID. I entered 5^M##001 and hit Run.
A picture of Sam flashed up on the screen along with the words SEARCH INITIATED. A large circle with a thin arrow began rotating round the picture of Sam, an innocuous image that seemed at odds with the invasive search occurring in the background. I held my breath while terrible nervous anticipation ate me alive. A loud BEEP sounded as the display showed the words NO RESULTS FOUND–SUBJECT NOT LOCATED. My stomach dropped. Sam’s wrist-comm tracker had been deactivated.
I closed the holo-projector and reset the kitchen bench, snatching my code card back and shoving it in my pocket. But then, I just froze. The sound of the rain streaming down the outside the house into the reservoirs was deafening, but the voice in my head screaming, What am I going to do? was louder.
A terrible idea started taking root in the corner of my mind. What other choice did I have? I couldn’t find Sam on my own, not quick enough to make sure he stayed safe. And I knew some people who could find him, and they owed me.
Grass whipped at my ankles as it danced in the frenzied storm. Precinct parking had always been terrible. With the night shift in full swing at the perpetually awake precinct, I had to park Sam’s e-vehicle and trek through the rain to reach the Agency’s Glen. Heavy droplets drenched me down to my bra and my favourite coat streamed frigid water that pooled around my cuffs before trickling down my numb fingers. I looked up and finally there it was. The great phallic obelisk. I really hated that thing, but I always thought it was an accurate reflection of the men who roamed the halls of this precinct of contrived power. When it rained, the depressed monolithic buildings looked like they were crying, stuck in a thick forested prison, screaming out for someone to save them from their life in this cesspool. I jostled my purple backpack into a more comfortable position and continued my trudge through the precisely cut grass that was quickly turning to sludge.
Before I knew it, I was standing at the base of the soaring obelisk. Taking a deep breath, I pushed escaped strands from my soaked curly bun back from my face and knocked on the hidden metal door. My stomach twisted, causing bile to cover the back of my tongue in a sour tang. I knew no matter how much I fought it, the dark underbelly of this place was about to suck me back in, and I would succumb to its siren call.
The metal door wrenched open with a stale hiss, revealing the frame of a tall, broad-shouldered figure that filled the entire doorway. I knew that figure.
‘Hi James, I need to see her.’
‘Rachel,’ the crewcut security guard nodded at me. ‘Haven’t seen you in a while.’
‘Twenty years.’
‘That long.’
‘Last time I saw you was on that mission—’
‘Out to the forest encampment. Now that brings back memories. Blew my knee out a few years back though, so no more fun outings like that for me, unfortunately. Had it replaced it with a pretty sweet mechanical one, but they assessed me as being invalid for field work. I got this gig instead of medical retirement though, and it suits me just fine. Fantastic out-of-hours rates,’ he said with a conspiratorial smile.
An awkward silence hung in the air, broken only by the repetitive drumming of the rain. I had never been close to James, but I did remember he was one of those people who loved to share their life details without prompting. Seemed like he hadn’t changed.
‘Can I come in?’ I asked.
‘Sure.’
James moved his hulking figure to the side, allowing just enough room for me to squeeze through. The door slammed shut, reverberating off the concrete interior. I winced internally at the sound, but kept an external veneer of calm. I couldn’t show weakness here. I was in the belly of the beast and once in, there were only two official ways out; you either got spat out or shat out. Personally, I preferred the more creative, unofficial third option. Find a weapon and hack your way out. I really hated the place.
‘Here, wipe yourself off,’ James said, passing me an old towel that looked like it had seen better days from behind his little desk.
I took the towel gratefully, and with nerves pumping, I started drying myself, taking a moment to hide a deep, calming breath while drying my face with the greasy, chemical-smelling towel. I instantly regretted that breath. You need to do this, so just suck it up and act the part, I thought before plastering on a neutral expression and getting down to business.
‘She in James?’
‘Yep.’
‘In the same office the old Head was in?’
‘Yep. I better escort you down, though.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘No ID pass,’ he nodded at my chest. ‘You need one of these.’ James threw me a bright yellow visitor pass and matching lanyard. No chance of subtlety now, everyone would know instantly I didn’t belong here.
‘Fine,’ I said and handed him back the now saturated towel. ‘Lead the way.’
We wove through a maze of claustrophobic elevators and narrow grey hallways, passing nameless doors that hid all manner of secrets. It was late, but I could already hear the quick echoing steps of people rushing around, doing whatever it was they thought was so important and worth trading their lives for. I used to be just like them. This used to be my home, and I cringed inwardly at the memory of how much I used to love the ego rush of knowing I was part of something so elite and secretive.
We halted, and James pressed a small button on a bland black door.
‘Yes,’ a voice crackled from a hidden speaker.
‘Rachel Tomsen here to see you, ma’am.’
There was a long pause before a click sounded and the door popped open.
‘Off you go then, and good to see you again,’ said James, ushering me through before closing the door behind me.
I entered a small, beige office with an even more beige looking woman typing away at a desk. Without looking or losing a beat, she flicked her finger commandingly towards a secondary door.
Steeling myself, I puffed out my chest and strode over to the door. Then, just like ripping off a band-aid, I opened the door, ready to get this necessary evil over and done with.
‘Rachel Tomsen,’ came a shrill and commanding voice. ‘It’s been years. Please, come sit down.’
Vivian Wyrmstead, one of the most powerful people on Tir-na who didn’t exist. She was a short woman with painfully white-blonde, thin hair that was always combed into a perfect blunt crop without a strand out of place. Dressed in a tailored skirt suit, she gestured gracefully with her manicured hand at a standard-issue brown armchair. Following her lead, I manoeuvred to the chair and sat down, assuming the most non-threatening and respectful body posture I could manage, while purposefully ignoring the puddles of water dripping off my clothes. I must have looked like a mess. Unsurprisingly, Vivian remained standing, linking her fingers calmly in front of her, and looked at me as though she could see into my soul. She always had a way of completely unnerving you while looking serene; a veneer she had carefully crafted to hide the fact she was a cunning predator who relished toying with her victims before biting them. It’s not that I hated her, it’s just that I never trusted her. She never did anything without a selfish motivation. And so, I was wary of her, and she made me uncomfortable. I would have much preferred for each of us to go on living our happy lives as far away from each other as possible, so we didn’t have to cross paths again.
‘I must admit, you are the last person I ever expected to come crawling back through our tunnels. From what I recall, you didn’t leave here on the best of terms. So, I admit, I’m intrigued. Only something terrible would drive you back here, and I can’t wait to hear the story.’
‘Nice to see you too, Vivian. I’ll get straight to it, so we don’t have to pretend with pleasantries. My son was taken and I need the Agency’s help to get him back.’
‘Ah Rachel. It’s always straight to business with you. It’s a refreshing change from the usual political dance I play with most people around here. But I can’t help you with a personal matter. You know that.’
‘Look. I didn’t want to come here anymore than you want me here. I understood when I left it was forever, and I understand this is the type of request even I would have rejected when I was here. But this isn’t just a personal issue. You know who the father of my son was. I won’t insult your intelligence by pretending you don’t.’
Vivian cocked her head and gave a sly, smiling nod that dripped with curious disdain.
‘Good. That makes all this easier. I left the Agency to help protect it, and my son. Unfortunately for all of us, it seems you can never really escape your past. This place owes me, and I had a promise of help should I ever need it. Well, I’m calling in what I’m owed. Help me get my son back. Do this and you’ll never have to see me again.’
‘I already thought I would never see you again.’
I glared at her as hairline cracks splintered across my cool business facade. I needed her help, but I couldn’t let her know how badly I needed it. The silence crashed around us, its waves slowly eroding our resolve. It was a battle of wills, but she underestimated how desperate I really was. I would do anything to get what I needed.
Vivian broke first.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘If it was solely my decision, I would have you thrown out. But as it is, the decision was made long ago, and I am bound to it. The Agency promised help if needed, in exchange for the agreement, and I am nothing if not loyal to the rule of the Agency. Know this though, the agreement never stated we needed to help you more than once. You ask for this favour, then afterwards all contacts between yourself and the Agency are null and void. You will no longer have the Agency’s support. You will be no one to us. Do you understand?’
‘I do.’
‘Are you sure you want to ask for this favour then?’
‘I am.’
‘Alright. What do you need?’
‘I need help to find my son and the people who have taken him. He was kidnapped at 2200. We were rammed off the road, then two figures then approached our crashed e-vehic and took Sam. I need to find out who the kidnappers are, and I need to get Sam back ASAP.’
‘So, tracking, intel, then extraction?’
‘Yes.’
‘I can assign one agent to assist you. You’re lucky. This one just happens to be between missions. What he’ll think about it, though, I’ll leave up to you to find out.’ She paused and inhaled a resigned sigh. ‘The Agency agrees to provide you informational, material, personnel and monetary support. But once this is done, you are dead to us, and I will never see you again. Report to Mission Hub, I’ll have your agent meet you there. You are dismissed.’
A nameless house of a man in a crisp uniform led me through the bland, identical hallways that twisted deep underground. My nerves threatened to bubble over. I shoved my hands into my pockets to hide their trembling and started subtle box breathing while maintaining my face in a frozen mask. I was in. It was the last place I wanted to be, but they had what I needed and would help me. I took more comfort from that fact than was warranted. Truthfully, helping me was the least they could do. Every passing moment left Sam in harm’s way, so I needed things to move faster, but frustratingly, I also needed to play their game. I followed the nameless uniformed man and let the rhythmic echo of our feet drown out my thoughts. The momentary stillness in my mind quickly filled with sense memories. I saw myself running through the hallways in training gear, heading into briefings, limping to the infirmary after a disaster of a mission, and sharing a joke with a friend as we headed through the blue doors of Mission Hub, the never-sleeping nexus of the Agency’s universe where we received our task briefings.
I was jarred out of the past as Mr Uniform halted our march in front of those same blue doors. He swiped his ID pass and punched a complex sequence into a keypad. The doors swished open with a loud breeze, revealing a room that, in another life, I would have called home.
Huge holo-screens covered almost every wall, with perfect rows of smaller control holos lined up in front of them. Analysts madly swished their hands through the projected controls, pushing data through AI processing and correlation algorithms. If the Agency was one huge beast, then this was its brain, and its brain never shut off. It was where analysts prepared mission briefings, analysed threat landscapes and provided succinct presentations for agents before missions. As I looked around the room, I noticed how much the technology had advanced since my last visit. I couldn’t even name most of the equipment they were using to process and compile their reports. In the centre of the room, though, was something that looked familiar, a large oval table with a holo-board embedded in its centre. There were two analysts at the large table, heads together, talking in hushed tones while rushing to pull together a briefing pack. Lazing in a chair next to the two analysts was a third figure dressed in a very well-known mission jumpsuit that identified them as an agent. The figure reclined in the chair with their crossed feet resting on the edge of the table. Their body language was completely at odds with that of the analysts. While the analysts appeared uptight, with an essence of cold, processing calculation, the agent appeared open and smugly relaxed. They were even stifling a yawn as I entered the room. The large doors swished closed, alerting everyone to my presence.
