“What’s happened then, boss?” I ask, stepping closer to him but staying out of touching distance. It’s probably safer for both of us if I do that.
Aaron exhales through slightly parted lips and regards me with a watchful expression, like he’s expecting some kind of dramatic reaction to whatever he’s going to tell me.
“On a recent undercover mission, one of our agents discovered two Liquid Onyx survivors being held by OI.” He pauses, that same expectant look on his face. It takes me a second to realise he’s hesitating. I stare back at him, refusing to goad him into spitting it out.
Aaron lets the tension sit there in the air between us, a different sort than whatever was there before, until finally he says, “Their names are Sami Malik and…Jack Roth.”
Ah. That’s what he’s so worked up about.
I don’t comment, waiting for Aaron to go on, revealing nothing. If FISA knows who Jack Roth is to me, there’s no point in confirming it, and if they don’t, I’m sure as hell not going to give up that information willingly.
Aaron doesn’t seem surprised by my lack of response or particularly disappointed. He sighs, pushing away from the desk and letting his arms drop to his sides. He seems uncomfortable,and for the first time since I’ve known him, truly uncertain. About what, I can’t fathom.
“It wasn’t possible for our undercover agent to extract Malik and Roth on his own,” he explains, slowly and oddly deliberate, like there are complications I can’t see hidden in what he’s telling me, “so he’s asked for backup to execute a rescue mission.”
“And … we’re the backup?” I guess. It would make sense to send us in again although Aaron’s shifty behaviour is making me think there’s something weird going on with this whole situation.
“Yes,” Aaron says, that same uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice again, “potentially.”
“What aren’t you telling me here?” I demand, bored with the confusing signals Aaron is throwing off. “You’re being cagey as fuck.”
Aaron’s expression becomes frustrated, and he makes a low, unhappy noise in the back of his throat. Clearly whatever the problem is, it’s pretty significant. To him, at least.
“Technically speaking,” Aaron says, “this rescue mission would be off the books.”
“Director Snow won’t sanction it?”
“No,” he bites out, real anger in his voice. “She feels it would be a waste of resources, considering the fact that Jack Roth and Sami Malik are known agents of Obsidian Inc.”
“Yeah, they’ve killed a lot of your agents in the past, right? Snow still holding a grudge over all that paperwork?” I ask acerbically, unable to hide my bitter amusement.
“It’s not really her,” Aaron says, grimacing at the mention of all those murdered FISA agents. “The higher-ups won’t let us put agents at risk on behalf of two renowned superhuman OI assassins. OI might have trained them since they were a children, but they’ve spent their entire lives causing problemsfor multiple governments. I doubt they care about the deaths of agents so much as what it would look like internationally if other countries found out we were harbouring criminals responsible for the assassinations of many top-brass politicians and influential businessmen.”
That’s depressingly likely.
“But you want to go help save the OI assassins despite getting the big N.O. from Snow because …” I let the question trail off, honestly unsure what would get Aaron to do something this drastic.
“Because I know the agent who called it in will go back and try to save them by himself if he has to,” Aaron admits, jaw clenching reflexively. He sounds genuinely afraid of this outcome, terrified even, which is a strong enough reaction from Aaron to pique my interest.
“Who’s the agent?” I ask, telling myself I’m not bothered by the idea that Aaron has some other agent he cares this much about.
“It’s my son, Damon,” he tells me, which certainly explains the fear. It’s not some random agent he feels responsible for, it’s fear for his son’s life if he decides to go on a suicide mission without any backup.
“Alright, got it,” I say, puffing out a loud breath and clapping my hands together. “We better go make sure your kid doesn’t die, then.”
“You don’t need to help me, Rohan. It would be a risk. Not just the mission itself but whatever comes afterward.”
“Piss off, North. You think I’m afraid, of what? That Snow will fucking fire me?” I scoff. “Babe, we’re not that close. Snow can take her job and choke on it for all I care.”
“I’m more concerned we’ll be arrested,” Aaron responds dryly.
“For what, like,treason?Please say treason,” I say eagerly. “Getting arrested by the British government for treason is pretty high up on my bucket list, not gonna lie.”
Aaron huffs out an amused noise, his mouth slipping up into a small smile. “Okay, I get it. Thanks, kid. I mean it.” He fixes me with a significant look. “Seriously, this is big to me. It’s everything.”It’s my family, he doesn’t say, but I hear it anyway.
“Fuck off; don’t get all soppy about it. We better go before your son decides to storm the OI castle and save the murder princesses solo.”
Aaron mouths the words “murder princesses” to himself, looking vaguely flummoxed by them, but he doesn’t comment, moving toward the door instead, an apparent fire lit under him, possibly at the idea his son might get bored waiting for us to show up. Maybe Damon North has some hero tendencies that result in reckless bullshit on the regular.
