Page 7 of Concluded
“Anyway, Abe tried to recruit the Portland guy but it didn’t work.So I guess now you’re up.”
“If he’s so vital, why doesn’t the chief go there himself?”
“Because Charles is tied up in something else.Besides, can you really picture him as an effective recruiter?”Crespo grinned and raised his eyebrows.
He did have a point.Chief Grimes was creepy, although Achilles couldn’t explain why.He rarely raised his voice or showed much emotion at all, and yet being near him felt like hanging out with a loaded gun that had the potential to fire on its own without warning.
“Okay, fine,” Achilles conceded.“Then why don’tyougo?”
“I told you.I’m working on another job.”
Achilles tasted bitterness, like cold day-old coffee.“Right.You’re needed for the important stuff, while I’m playing PR.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.I’m heading to Wyoming, where I’m apparently going to flap around with an empath and an ex-cowboy on my back, like a goddamn flyingpony, in hopes of tracking down some mysterious signal from some mysterious source that the empath thinks he sensed last year.Would you prefer that assignment?”
“No.”Achilles sighed.“Wouldn’t a flying pony make you a pegasus or something?”
“I am a dragon, not a mythical horse, and neither the cowboy nor the empath is Bellerophon.”
Achilles, who was less knowledgeable about Greek mythology than his name and ancestry would suggest, didn’t know who Bellerophon was.But he did have to admit that Crespo had a point—flying was not within his skill set.
While Achilles considered what to say next, Crespo seemed to let his temper ebb.His eyes faded to a more traditional green and he spoke more softly.“I told you—talking to the Portland guyisimportant.Maybe getting him on board is more critical than anything the rest of us are doing.No way to know.”
Suddenly, Achilles was exhausted, every pain in his body intensified, and a few new aches popped up for good measure.He wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over his head, which he realized wasn’t the most mature response but he didn’t much care.“I can’t,” he said, voice almost a whisper.“I’m done.”
Crespo didn’t get up and leave, but he also didn’t argue.He leaned back against the couch cushion and gazed at the big framed print on the wall near the TV.It was an abstract piece, various-sized blocks in soothing blues and greens coming together as if they were about to construct something good and solid.It was one of the few pieces of art that Achilles owned, except for the small selection of tasteful male nudes in his bedroom.
“Spanos, why did you join the Bureau?”
Achilles didn’t have to think about his reply.“Chief Townsend recruited me.”
“Which is significant.If he thought you would make a valuable agent, then you are.”
“Whatever.”Achilles followed Crespo’s lead and leaned back, then partially closed his eyes.“I was twenty-two, holding down three or four crappy jobs and trying to get a college degree.What he was offering sounded a lot better than flipping burgers for minimum wage.”
“So you signed up for a steady paycheck?Really?”Crespo gave him a knowing look.
“I—”
“You wanted to be a hero.Townsend said you would be.”
That was way too close to home.Achilles could remember the excitement of it all, the promise that he could be someone.The assurances that he was wanted.“Well, he was wrong,” he said with a snarl.
“That old bastard was never wrong about his hunches.”
“If I’m such a hero, how come I worked for the Bureau—bledfor it—for almost twenty years and now things are, as I keep hearing, spiraling down a shithole?”He was yelling.Achilles wasn’t usually much of a shouter, but today was clearly an exception.
“Life’s not a movie, man.You don’t fight a few glorious battles, win the big one, and then ride off into the sunset while the credits roll.Life isconstant.Day to day.I’ve been through… hang on.”He took out his phone and tapped at it for a moment.“Fuck.Fifty grand.I’ve seen over fifty thousand days start and end.Some of them were beautiful: sitting on a porch with my aibek, smelling the evening breeze, watching the sun set, knowing that pretty soon we’d head inside, eat dinner, and fuck like bunnies.Some days, my friend, were goddamn awful.The thing is, no matter what kind of day it is, as long as you survive it, the next day will come.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”Achilles was tired of lectures with metaphors.Riddles.Movies.He was just plain fuckingtired.
“Forget about trying to save the world, my friend.None of us can.But each of us can save a little bit of it, for a minute or a day or a year.And that’s always going to matter.”Crespo stood suddenly, gaining his feet with more grace than Achilles had ever possessed, even when unmauled.“I have to head to Wyoming now.Neigh.Call Charles when you see the light… but don’t wait too long.Not everyone has fifty thousand days.”
He touched his fingers to his forehead in a little salute, mumbled something about replacing a couch, and left.
Achilles didn’t move.
* * *
