Bullet considers me for a very long moment, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly and then flickering between me and Jack. Weighing his options, I'd guess. Eventually, he nods, his expression showing no outward emotion that would allow me to gauge how badly he's taken this semi-rejection.
"I'll give you a day," Bullet allows, dipping his head in my direction. "Let me know your decision tomorrow." He holds up a hand as if to halt us from leaving just yet and shoots me a far more insidious look, the monster creeping out from behind the mask. His eyes are so dark, it's like staring straight into a starless night sky. "Agent Snow, your partner is aware of this, but it seems you are not. I do not haggle. I do not negotiate. This is my final offer. You turn this down, and I will not come back to the table at a later date when you become more desperate. It's now or never. Tell me you understand this before you leave today."
I want to tell the vile prick exactly what he can do with his information, but that's pure and unhelpful emotions talking, not the fully trained agent I am. I won't go as far as to say I need to be professional with Bullet, because this isn't an office meeting, but getting irrational with him won't do any good and could actively harm the mission.
So instead of letting my mouth run honest and wild, I mirror Bullet's shallow nod of acknowledgement. "We'll be in touch with you by tomorrow," I agree, getting to my feet and nudging Jack to do the same.
Jack gives Bullet one last disdainful glare, which Bullet responds to with a wicked grin, like a man who's escaped death one too many times and now thinks thatmeanssomething. Bullet might get to find out just hownotspecial his existence is to the universe if Jack decides to show him how little control FISA has over him in comparison to OI.
To deflect this outcome, I grab hold of Jack's arm and hustle him towards the exit. He lets himself be pulled, which I choose to take as a good sign that all is not lost, and there's still time for us to get on the right page.
Chapter five
Leo
JackandIdriveback to the safe house in relative silence, which is mostly fine. I'm busy ruminating over every single thing that was said in that meeting. Jack seems to be deep in thought too although it's coming across more asseething.
I figure Jack will explode as soon as he has enough space around him to blow up in, and I'm right. Practically the minute Jack and I step into the empty safe house, he turns on me like a ferociously enraged animal baited well past its breaking point. He flings aside the case of money meant for Bullet, so hard it crashes into the wall and forms a noticeable crack before dropping to the floor.
"You get there's no other way than to do what that bastard wants, right?" Jack throws at me like it's a live grenade I'm supposed to catch and disable before it goes off. "Tell me you get that."
It's too close to what Bullet said for comfort. The repetition of the patronising demand chafes, causing my hackles to rise instantly.
"Yeah, I heard him," I say, trying to keep a level head despite not really wanting to. "That doesn't mean we could just agree to it right there on the spot. We need time to come up with an alternative plan. You can't just go kill a load of random people and return weapons to an active arms dealer. I won't let you do that."
"You won'tletme do it?" He snarls, incredulous. "You said we were in this together!"
"Weare!" I all but yell back at him, my hands clenching at my sides.
"You agreed we’d do whatever it takes! Or was that bullshit?" Jack sounds so betrayed it almost makes me want to stop the entire argument and dig into why. There are a lot of triggers with Jack; he's like a forest full of bear traps. He's an island that ships are told to steer clear from because it's supposed to be haunted.
"No!" I exclaim instead, feeling the time pressure on this mission like an ever-tightening band around my chest. "I just don't think this is our only option."
Jack levels a look of exasperation at me that holds all the weight and threat of a freshly lit cannon. He's just waiting for an excuse to cause some damage, to blow a hole in whatever presents a large enough target, one that will allow him to create the maximum amount of debris.
"Go on then, Agent Snow; what exactly are ourotheroptions?" he demands. "Because we've had shit-all luck finding Sathe the long way 'round. Do you want to double back and raid every single OI base we know of again, and if that doesn't work, start breaking into random, shady-looking buildings until we accidentally stumble across him?" He's getting angrier and angrier the more he goes on, like he's building to something grand and immensely destructive.
"No, you arsehole," I grit out, struggling to keep a lid on my temper. My nerves are shot after that meeting with Bullet. I could use some time to cool off and think through everything properly, without any distractions, but I'm not going to get that. "I know we need the information from Bullet. I just meant we could get it another way."
"What? Like, kidnap and torture it out of him? Gonna let me shake what my OI mama gave me and rip out some fingernails?" Jack legit brightens at the prospect, and I can't deal with it. I can't. It's too much on top of everything else.
"Jack, don't joke about that shit." I rub a hand over my face, feeling like I want to scratch the skin raw just to give me something different to focus on.
Jack throws me another one of those odd looks, like he's annoyed but not surprised, like he's tired of me not getting it even though I have no clue what I'm supposed to be getting, which I guess is kind of the point. "I'm not joking," he says.
Alright, fuck this.
"Jesus Christ, I wasn't talking about torture or kidnapping!" I shout at him before I can stop myself. I barely manage to bring my voice back down to a more manageable level for the next bit. "Instead of killing the extremists like Bullet asked and returning his goods, we could talk to the local officials or law enforcement, get them to arrest the extremists and take the guns as evidence."
This time there's no attempt on Jack's part to conceal his incredulity at what I'm almost certain is my shocking lack of understanding about how the real world works.
"Leo, you don't know this country like I do," Jack says, proving me right in one fell swoop. "There's a bloodyreasonwhy Bullet uses this as his base of operations. There's areasonwhy a group of radicals from a Slavic country would come here to buy guns in the first place." He makes a low sound of disgust. "The police are corrupt as fuck. The local government is corrupt as fuck. No one in this goddamn shithole is going to arrest a group of international extremists for stealing illegal weapons from an infamous arms dealer. What fucking fairy-tale land are you living in right now?"
Jack is very close to losing his shit with me. I can feel it like static electricity crackling around the particles in the air. He's got animosity pouring from him by the bucketload, stance rock solid, back ramrod straight, shoulders braced like a bull in a fighting ring. His face is a mask of white-hot rage.
This isn't completely new territory for us. I've both seen and heard Jack's temper threatening to go nuclear. But on the other occasions when we've come to this point, I've had enough calm and perspective to either back down physically or to try to soothe Jack using non-combative language.
At this moment, however, I'm almost as pissed off as Jack, which means I'm unable to find the patience to filter what I’m saying. "You're not working for Obsidian Inc. anymore, Jack. You don't have the same excuses."
