Page 110 of Gates of Tartarus

“Agent Reed,” he begins quietly, and the words shred my heart into pieces.Agent Reed, like we’re fucking strangers, like I didn’t hold him when his mother passed away and he cried in my arms, silently shaking, unable to breathe.Agent Reed, like we hadn’t talked or texted daily for the past three years.Agent Reed, like we didn’t know the ins and outs of each other’s minds and hearts, like I couldn’t navigate him in the dark, like I wouldn’t be able to find him if he were lost in storm-tossed seas in the middle of winter.Agent Reed.Agent Reed, like we were strangers, or worse, like we were nothing more to each other than colleagues. I feel sick to my stomach, nausea washing over me, skin rippling in despair.Agent Reed.

His face tightens, jaw clenched, and he reaches out to place a small recording device in front of me, beginning again. “Agent Reed, I’ve been instructed by Director Gomez, head of CDS, to debrief you immediately regarding my involvement with the CDS and our program within the SPD.”

I make some sort of noise, and his chin juts forward and eyes close as he waits for me to settle. “I’m obligated to inform you that this session will be recorded and delivered to Director Gomez in order to prove compliance on my part, as well as to make sure that all aspects of our working relationship are fully and correctly divulged.”

He meets my eyes briefly before looking away again. “Director Gomez has asked me to break cover at this point, due to the recent events. Agent Reed, my time at SPD has been a decoy. I’ve been an agent at CDS for nine years. Due to a unique ability to mask my emotions – an excellent internal poker face, if you will, I’m one of the agency's top recruiters and trainers. Steady meditation, intense training, and constant vigilance, combined with a natural talent, have given me almost impenetrable shields. I’m able to control what I project, and, to my knowledge, don’t leak unintentional emotion. I’m also able to mirror emotions – false enthusiasm or mock sympathy, for example, as long as those emotions are in the same room as I am. CDS has classified me with the abilities to Block and Mimic.”

I stare at him, stunned. I’ve read him for years.Years.He told me when we started working together that my abilities were an asset and that he would always be amenable to me reading him while we were working together. While I tried in general not to read him in our off time, I’d never had an indication that he was hiding anything from me. Part of the reason I trusted him so much and so deeply was because he was so open. Spots appear in front of my eyes as my breathing becomes shallow, thinking of what I’ve shared with him over the past few years together... information he was obviously passing along to Gomez without my knowledge or consent.

He reaches out a hand towards me, then drops it to his lap, staring down, and I feel a great darkness gathering.

“Deo…” I whisper, trying to find a thread of sanity in what is happening. He looks back up at me, eyes bright and glossy, but his voice is steady when he continues.

“At Director Gomez’s request, my partner and I moved from our previous assignment to Seattle. Our goal was to set up an experimental recruit station for CDS through SPD. Well, SPD and several other test facilities. The idea was that we’d field-train Bleeders as police officers, see how they’d react under the pressure and stress of working for a PD, then, if they were successful, pull them over to more specific training in the CDS to become agents. Gomez didn’t want to recruit a bunch of agents who would just wash out – CDS doesn’t have the time or budget for that. Previously we’d used different methods of recruiting when attached to a new force, but this time Gomez wanted us silentwithinthe force, hoping to gain more inside information and trust. My partner and I applied as officers, went through training, and were moving up the ranks to Detective when my partner quit unexpectedly,” a rare flash of hurt races across his face before it closes down again, “just after we recruited a possible agent by the name of Dustin Daniels.” He swallows audibly and picks a point over my head to stare solidly at. “We don’t always use the most… sanitary... methods of recruiting agents. We’re hurting for people, and it’s hard to find the ones with talent when they’ve spent their entire lives thinking they’re crazy, or emotional, or what have you. That’s not an excuse. It’s just the bald truth. So we hunt down top-rated therapists, beloved pastors, local artists… There were so many avenues. In any case, we were made aware of your presence and the possibility of potential. Daniels had met you, apparently, and thought there was something about you.”

Here he paused, taking several shallow breaths, before steeling himself to lock eyes with me. “I hadn’t met you yet,” he says softly, almost desperately, before continuing. “Daniels indicated to Gomez you had some kind of talent but that you were really locked down on it. She asked him…”

I shake my head at him, heart choking my throat, eyes wide and pleading, but he continues anyway, “she asked him to form a relationship with you and report any information back, while she continued to try to recruit you through other methods. I was not on board for the Daniels method; I should make that clear. But at the time it was background noise. To be honest, I’d lost someone important to me, and was trying to stand up a new program at SPD from the inside by myself, and I didn’t think the information would pan out regarding your talents. By the time we got confirmation of your abilities, I was busy, and he was in a relationship with you, of sorts, reporting back steadily, and laying the groundwork for recruitment. He indicated that you wouldn’t be a fan of the way we did things, so Gomez just had him in a holding pattern until she could figure out the correct approach.”

A small, fierce smile flashes like lightning across Deo’s face before being swallowed up by something close to fear. “But you caught on before she had time to address you, and you broke up with him. Which left us in a bit of trouble, as Gomez was anticipating bringing you in directly to CDS in a fairly major role, since we didn’t have an active Empath at the time. We haven’t actuallyeverhad an Empath with your precise capabilities. But she had intel from Daniels indicating that your goal was to work with at-risk children, and planted information for you to attend a hiring fair. A single-person hiring fair, as you were the only one to interview. She pulled you in with an internship, assigned me as your Handler, and the rest, well, you were there for that.”

“And your job was…?” I whisper softly, throat tight and aching with unshed tears.

“My job was to guide you, prep you for the idea of becoming an agent for CDS, and report back on your abilities.” He stared at the floor as he spoke to me, the only sound that soft beeping of the machine next to me and the quiet hush of conversation outside my door. “I was to gain your trust and friendship and help craft you into a tool for CDS’s gains. To find your strengths and weaknesses, exploit both, and relay those to Gomez. Which I did, without hesitation.”

“When you sayexploit…”

He stares at a point on the wall, face set and hard. “You were lonely and in need of friendship. And someone who didn’t judge you. Daniels’ time with you proved that a relationship wasn’t the best way of going about things, but a friendship… someone you could trust...” His voice catches slightly on the last word. Reaching out, he picks up the tiny recorder. “Do you have any questions for me at this point, Agent Reed? Have I adequately explained my involvement in these proceedings?”

I nod my head, feeling like my skin is made of glass and could shatter with a breath.

“I need a verbal answer, please, Agent Reed.”

“Yes,Agent Tanaka,” I bite out bitterly. “You’ve fucking explained everything beautifully. And yeah, you better fucking believe I have questions.”

“Any questions will have to be asked and answered in the presence of Director Gomez. As of right now, she’d like full oversight on all of our meetings. That is, the meetings where just you and I are present. Thank you for your time and willingness to listen, Reed.”

Tanaka stands, flips off the tiny machine, and moves to walk out. He pauses briefly by my bed to adjust my arm cuff and says softly, so quietly I wouldn’t have been able to hear had I breathed too loudly, “I also feel you should know the last fully honest report I sent CDS regarding your abilities was six months into our partnership.”

I look up at him, startled, but he finishes messing with my cuff and leaves without another word.

Family

Tuesday, 27 November – Kailani

Smith, Walker, Tanaka, and Gemma are back, the former arguing indistinctly back and forth by the foot of my bed, the latter sitting silent against the far wall, separated by several feet. There’s some sort of discussion going on about the victims, when to brief the British team, what Cole said, but I don’t. Fucking. Care. I want everyone gone.How has it only been 24 hours since I got here?It feels like I’ve been in the hospital for a month, but by the time I arrived after the factory, it was early morning Monday, 2am or 3am; I can’t remember. And it’s only Tuesday afternoon now. My head hurts; my eyes feel like they’re melting in my skull.Why won’t they leave me in peace?

I’m about to cry, or scream, when all of a sudden, the door to my hospital roomburstsopen, and an incandescent Lachy is there, glowing with rage, hair standing on end as though he’s run his hands through it a hundred times. It makes him look wild and rugged and slightly crazed. He looks at the guys hovering near my bedside and growls in an almost inhuman way at them. “You!” He points at them with his giant paw of a hand. “Get thefuckout!”

My eyebrows shoot up, though even that small movement hurts, and I stare at my normally good-natured friend. To say I’m stunned by his appearance and anger would be an understatement. Maddox holds up his hands placatingly and makes as if to speak, but Lachy’s having none of it. He moves menacingly forward, forcing Maddox and Walker to their feet.

He points to the door once more, over-enunciating each word. “Did I fucking stutter? Get. The. Fuck. OUT!”

A nurse rushes in, having heard some commotion, and takes in the scene with surprisingly little discomfort. She looks to me for guidance, which I greatly appreciate, but I have no idea what’s happening at the moment and, to be honest, am too stunned to think of what to do. There’s a tense stand-off for a moment, before Lachy loses his patience and fuckingpicks upMaddox andmoveshim outside the door. Maddox is too surprised to react, I think, or just doesn’t want to make a scene in the hospital, but his face turns a mottled red, and I can see him clenching his fists tightly.

As Lachy moves back towards Walker, Walker tenses but looks at me and says softly, “Is this guy going to be a problem?”

It was a sweet sentiment but was the final straw to an already unstable Lachy. “AmI a problem?” he roars. “AmIa fucking problem?” He moves towards Walker surprisingly quickly but freezes when I whisper his name.

---