It seems unlikely this was a planned assassination by OI. It’s too sloppy, and abandoning him here, out in the open, indicates a rushed job.
But really, there are too many variables to contend with right now to make any real sense out of this bullshit.
Jack doesn’t appear surprised when I look back at him. There’s a stark amount of resignation on his face, almost as if he expected this right from the start.
I thought his comments about Ryan being dead were just hyperbolic callousness. A way to get a rise out of me. His negative perception of the world warping the little evidence we had of what might have happened.
Of course, Ryan being dead was always a possibility, and one I considered, but it still gives me a shocked, gut-curdling sensation. I didn’t want it to be true, so I convinced myself it wasn’t.
“We need to call in forensics,” I say, more to end the silence than because it’s necessary.
Jack looks over at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. He studies me for a few, tense seconds. I’m unsure of the reason for the sudden scrutiny until Jack nudges me out of the way and closes the van doors.
“You don’t need to do that,” I tell him, annoyed at myself for allowing Jack to see how much it bothers me to find Rush dead.
Jack turns around and fixes me with an unimpressed look. He sighs.
“Make the call.” I’m about to argue, to push for Jack to acknowledge what I said, when he adds, “The people who loved him will want a body to mourn.”
It’s a harrowing statement but a true one nonetheless. The sooner FISA is done with Ryan’s corpse, the sooner it can be released to his friends and family.
“Okay.” I nod at Jack, reaching for my FISA communicator to report in to North, secretly glad I don’t have to look at Rush’s still corpse anymore.
I’m already certain the bite of failure at having been too late to help him will linger long after Rush’s body is taken away.
CHAPTER TWENTY
JACK
When Leo and I get back on base, we return our weapons to the Armoury and go to offer our verbal report to Senior Agent North. He is, predictably, disturbed by the news of Ryan Rush’s apparent murder.
North dismisses us shortly after we give our report and tells us to write it up for the file records but to otherwise take the rest of the day off. Since it was Leo who did most of the talking, as per usual, I only nod in acceptance of North’s order and gladly leave his office.
Once in the hallway, I share a one-sided moment of awkwardness with Leo. We glance discreetly at each other, both of us seeming to be expecting something, but whereas Leo appears to know exactly what he’s waiting for, I have no idea.
There’s a somewhat-haggard look on Leo’s face. He’s been looking like a defeated man since we found Rush’s body in that van. He didn’t get upset by the dead body the way I know he did that day in the office when I killed those OI agents.
He might have tried to hide it during the mission, but I know my massacre of the OI agents doing surveillance on Rush hit Leo hard. He was unable to conceal how horrified and disgusted he was by the sight of so much human carnage. Most of which was caused by his own partner.
Leo is softer than he wants to be, that much is clear. But I don’t know why anyone would want to see death and feel like I do about it, which is basically nothing at all. The horror was burned out of me years ago. I’ve lost the ability to be distressed by murder, however obscene.
We both open our mouths at the same time to speak but are saved from having to come up with the right words when Leo’s phone starts buzzing.
He makes an apologetic face at me and takes his phone out of his pocket. He frowns down at the screen before answering it.
I take a step away from him to give him more privacy.
“Hello?” Leo says, his tone making it obvious he doesn’t know who’s called him.
I try not to listen, but my advanced hearing picks up on the person’s answer anyway.
“Hey mate. It’s Teddy. You need to come get your mum.”
Leo is immediately concerned, his voice going high and almost desperate. The sound of it causes my back to straighten and my attention to sharpen.
“Is she alright? Where is she?” Leo fires off both questions one after the other like he knows he only has one shot to get the answers he needs.
There’s a pause on the other end, along with some shouting in the background. Teddy comes back, distracted now and maybe a bit lethargic. It reminds me of all the times I’ve heard people try to talk when they’re coming down from something. Not drunk or high, but certainly not sober either.
