Family Before Agency

	“Shit, all I got’s two pair,” Johnny grumbled as he finished searching through his bag.
	“Dammit Eagle,” Esteban snapped, using Johnny’s code name in case of a bug. Esteban, code name Cross, rolled his green eyes and sighed. “We told you to grab three from Supply before we left.”
	“I know, I know, I thought I did!”
	“Never mind, you take one and Spook can have the other.”
	“But what about you, Cross?” Johnny asked, holding one pair of new Agency issue night vision goggles with heat signature tracking while Viktor (code name Spook) took the other without protest.
	“You both know I’m the distraction here,” Esteban reasoned. “You need to watch our backs, Spook needs to see where he’s going, and I’m just here to blow shit up.”
	Johnny and Viktor nodded in agreement. That was the general plan. Viktor already had his goggles on, looking like a steam punk alien in the dark interior of the black Suburban.
	“Alright,” Johnny said, pulling his own goggles into place. “Let’s roll.”
	All three men turned on their Bluetooth radios. Esteban and Viktor exited the vehicle and went to its trunk where their weapons were stored. After finishing gearing up, Esteban and Viktor looked each other over, exchanged approving nods, and headed toward the site. Esteban immediately lost Viktor among the underbrush. That’s why they call him Spook, he thought, trying himself to blend a little into the shadows, knowing his muscled bulk would be much harder to hide than Viktor’s lean frame. It helped that there was no moon tonight.
	“This is Hydrangea, requesting status report.” The voice of Caroline, their handler, came through suddenly and clearly, making Esteban jump. Based on the sound of a twig cracking nearby, Esteban assumed Viktor had just been startled too. They allowed Johnny to answer, as he was in a relatively safer position to do so. 
	But Johnny didn’t answer.
	Esteban froze. Silence. Johnny was a natural talker, and he should have been free to answer. Esteban tried not to panic, but he felt his hair standing on end along his forearms all the same.
	“This is Hydrangea, come in Agents Cross, Spook, Screaming Eagle.”
	Again, nothing. Esteban risked it, muttering just barely loud enough to transmit. “This is Agent Cross reporting. We hear you loud and clear. Spook and I are heading toward the compound. All clear. Agent Screaming Eagle, please provide a status report.”
	All was silent, both over the radio and across the desert steppe terrain. 
	“Cross turning back to check on Eagle.”
	“Spook also,” came Viktor’s whisper.
	Caroline didn’t answer. Esteban imagined her waiting, one hand on her coffee, the other on her Bluetooth, focused like a laser on their situation.
	Johnny wasn’t in the driver’s seat of the SUV when they arrived. “Eagle not at his post,” Cross whispered, hoping Caroline could hear. She didn’t answer, so he took it she’d heard and was waiting for more information. “Sweeping the area.”
	He signaled to Viktor into the open air. Although he didn’t know Viktor’s position, he knew he was likely watching. Instantly, he saw the shape of his comrade’s blond head poke up into the air and head in his direction. Esteban wanted him close by for backup. He didn’t want them to split up in case someone else was watching them.
	When Viktor was close enough to hear him whisper, Esteban asked, “See anything on your goggles?”
	“Nothing,” Viktor responded, kicking a patch of dirt with his combat boots and scanning the area again with his cold blue eyes. “I don’t see tracks, but the ground is warm from earlier today.”
	Esteban frowned. He crept up the side of the Suburban and opened the driver’s side door. Viktor covered him, watching all around, his silenced pistols drawn but pointing skyward. Esteban looked into the back of the vehicle, but no one was there. Without closing the door, as it would make a banging sound if he did, Esteban moved around to look in the trunk. It was also empty. Checking over his shoulder to make sure Viktor followed, he moved around the back of the Suburban to check the other side of it. Still, he saw nothing.
	“Spook, do you see any tracks besides ours?”
	As Viktor studied the ground, it was Esteban’s turn to cover him. “Here,” Viktor whispered finally, pointing at the ground. Esteban moved aside, allowing Viktor to follow the tracks along the driver’s side of the Suburban, to a small outcropping of brush. The tracks were quite small and narrow – a woman’s feet, perhaps? 
	Suddenly, Viktor crouched down so low that Esteban brought up his shotgun. As his gaze moved further into the steppe landscape beyond the rear of the vehicle, the slim shape of a woman became apparent against the sage grass.
	Esteban crouched, still holding his gun high, and shouted authoritatively, “Get down on the ground, NOW!” Never mind she was female. Knowing Caroline had taught him to squash the society-instilled instinct to go easy on women.
	In answer, something flew noiselessly out of the darkness and pinged off Esteban’s shoulder guard, gouging it. A throwing blade of some kind? 
	Although Esteban quickly processed the attack and began advancing on the enemy, a high-pitched cry of pain pierced the night before he could aim his shotgun. He advanced toward the sound as, behind him, flood lights came on and began searching the terrain.
	“Mierda,” he cursed. Shortly, he came upon Viktor, who had his pistols pointed at a dark lump in the sage brush. 
	“Is she dead?” he asked.
	“Nyet,” Viktor answered. “Let’s take her. I don’t think she’s one of them.” He jerked his head toward the now light-flooded compound behind them.
	“I think we have ten minutes-,” Esteban started before he was interrupted by the sounds of barking dogs. “We have five minutes,” he corrected himself. “I’ll put her in the truck. You look around, see if you can’t find Eagle.”
	The woman had been shot in the left thigh and shoulder. She tried to scramble away from Esteban as he reached her, but it was hopeless for her. Not wanting to take chances, Esteban used the butt of his gun to knock her lights out for good. She flopped uselessly as Esteban lifted her petite frame easily onto his shoulder and carried her off. He dumped her unceremoniously onto the ground behind the Suburban, opened it, and threw the equipment there into the back seat, save for a blanket and some rope. He then wrapped her tightly in the blanket from the neck down, tied her thoroughly with the rope, and threw her into the trunk. 
	As he finished, he heard the sound of cracking twigs from behind. He turned and raised his gun, but it was only Viktor, dragging Johnny’s lifeless body through the underbrush by his wrists.
	“Is he alright?” Esteban asked, hurrying to pick up Johnny’s feet. 
	“He is breathing,” Viktor responded. 
	Well, that was something. Together, they managed to get Johnny’s solidly built body into the back seat of the Suburban, moving the equipment onto the floor to make space for him. The dogs were getting closer, and they were starting to hear the shouts of men calling to one another. Perhaps they had already been seen. 
	Esteban started the truck and began to drive off before he was assaulted by the whine of an alert and a red signal on the dash indicating at least one flat tire.
	“Mierda,” he cursed again, hitting the accelerator hard regardless. The woman must have slashed their tires to make it harder for them to escape. Viktor gripped the bar above his window and groaned. Navigating the desert on flat tires was going to be a nightmare…if they even managed to escape at all. If the people chasing them broke out their own, intact vehicles, there would be no hope.
	It turned out there was still some air in the tires. Esteban silently thanked Johnny for having chosen a model with a lift kit and top notch suspension. This wasn’t turning out to be quite as difficult as it could be – at least, not yet. He glanced into the rear view mirror, first at their pursuers, then at Johnny’s unconscious form. Behind them, he was unable to see much besides some flashlights scanning back and forth, but he couldn’t see any headlights. Johnny was bouncing in the back seat unceremoniously, his fingers twitching a little too close to their weapons for Esteban’s comfort.
	“Spook.”
	Viktor’s pale eyes flashed from their way forward to Esteban and back again.
	“Tie Screaming Eagle in. He’s going to shoot something or blow something up.”
	Viktor whipped his head around, assessed the situation, and crawled into the back seat as carefully as he could, what with the SUV bouncing around over the sagebrush and rocks. As he worked, the undercarriage scraped painfully against a rock, and a sort of rhythmic whine began issuing from the driver’s side front tire. Esteban could smell burning rubber. Great.
	“Status report,” Caroline demanded into his earpiece. She’d been listening, and must have determined that it was safe now to ask.
	“This is Agent Cross with a status report,” Esteban said, glancing back as Viktor did his best to seatbelt Johnny into the back seat. “We located Agent Screaming Eagle. He is alive but unconscious. We found his assailant. She is currently unconscious and we are bringing her to base for interrogation. We have temporarily aborted the mission due to discovery. Vehicle is compromised – slashed tires.”
	He checked the rear view mirror again and could see two tiny pricks of light in the distance. As he drove, they came closer at an alarming rate. 
	Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Original target in pursuit,” he finished.
	At these words, Viktor looked out the back window so quickly that he hit his head on the ceiling as the Suburban lurched downward. He hissed a Georgian curse about dogs, perhaps (Esteban wasn’t sure), and made to move into the front seat.
	Luckily, Esteban was almost to the road. Without hitting the brakes, in case this alerted their pursuers to their position, he attempted a casual coast onto the highway. However, seconds after hitting the dark desert road, the smell of burning rubber strengthened, shortly followed by the sound of rims screeching on pavement.
	It wouldn’t do to stay on the road when they were this noticeable. Esteban began looking for a place to ditch the large vehicle. There wasn’t a tree or even large patch of bushes for miles, but ahead he could see a ravine. 
	“Hold on,” he warned Viktor.
	As headlights skimmed onto the road behind them, Esteban coasted sideways and allowed the Suburban to roll downhill toward the dried up creek bed. He angled in carefully, not wanting to actually crash, but coaxing the Suburban to the bottom. There, he allowed it to continue rolling slowly away from the road, all without hitting the brakes, until they hit a particularly large rock and the SUV stopped with a tired shudder. Behind them, the headlights streaked past at full speed. Still, they didn’t move. Esteban turned off the engine and watched intently for the vehicles to turn around.
	They didn’t turn around. They were safe, for now.
	“Hydrangea, we need to abandon the vehicle,” Esteban said quietly into his earpiece. “Target has lost us temporarily but we need to move. Requesting backup vehicle delivery.”
	“Understood. Wait for instructions,” Caroline responded.
	They waited without speaking. Behind them, headlights moved back and forth on the road now and again. There was no way to tell whether they were the headlights of their pursuers or of citizens going about their business. Esteban was sure they would be granted a new vehicle under the circumstances, but he wasn’t sure how long it would take for them to receive it due to their remote location.
	“This is Control,” Caroline’s voice said smoothly five minutes later. “Backup vehicle will be delivered on the road five miles north of your location in one hour. We would like to assess Screaming Eagle’s condition as well. Agent Spook, retrieve the new vehicle. Agent Cross, stay behind and wait for assistance.” 
	“Roger,” both men said quietly. 
	“Be careful,” Esteban added to Viktor, who nodded once before taking off into the night.
	The desert was quiet. Neither Johnny nor his attacker moved. Esteban peered into the darkness with Johnny’s night vision goggles, looking for movement and listening for voices. Once, he heard the dried out twigs of a bush break against something, but he lowered his shotgun upon seeing that it was just a lone coyote. They stared in silence, neither one much afraid of the other. After a few seconds, the dog continued on its path and all was quiet again.
	Esteban checked the time on his phone. Only fifteen minutes had passed. He sighed and looked into the rearview mirror again. No movement. He turned around in the driver’s seat and checked Johnny’s pulse. It was slow but steady. There was blood drooling slowly from his head onto the back seat. His hair was matted, though, which told him it was starting to clot.
	“Agent Screaming Eagle is still stable,” he whispered into his Bluetooth. “Looks like blunt force to the head. There’s a lot of blood but it seems to be stopping on its own. His Bluetooth is gone.”
	“Thank you, Cross,” Caroline said quietly. “We’ll destroy the Bluetooth remotely.”
	If anyone found the Bluetooth after Caroline told someone in IT to push a magic button, all they’d find was a fried unit. Esteban didn’t bother to check on the woman in the trunk, not wishing to make any noise by opening a car door. No one asked him to check her, either. Part of him hoped he’d accidentally killed her. It might simplify things.
	At the thirty minute mark, Johnny suddenly moaned unintelligibly. Esteban started and turned back around, but he wasn’t moving and his eyes weren’t open. He’d gone quiet. Esteban continued to watch him for signs of life, checking his pulse again, but it was as though nothing had happened.
	At forty-five minutes, Esteban caught a glimpse of a vehicle with no headlights and heard tires crunch onto the rocky terrain. His shotgun was up in an instant, muscles corded, ready for anything.
	“Recovery unit approaching target,” Caroline’s smooth voice reassured him.
	He let out breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. It was an Agency vehicle. “Recovery unit spotted,” Esteban confirmed.
	Esteban opened the driver’s side door, cursed at the sudden brightness on his goggles, and turned off the dome light. He took off his goggles to let his eyes rest a little. The crew who leapt out of the black van which had followed the SUV’s GPS signal was loaded with a mix of people. Some carried shackles and zip ties; others wore scrubs and carried a stretcher. No one spoke. Esteban opened the side door for the medical crew, allowing the guards to help themselves to the woman in the trunk. They were as efficient at their jobs as he was at his, and within minutes, Johnny was stabilized on the stretcher with a neck brace and the woman was belted into the back seat of the van. Esteban nodded his thanks to them, which they acknowledged with smiles and waves. He couldn’t help but smile back a little at one of them – a pretty blond woman with a pony tail.
	“Recovery unit out,” Esteban reported, watching the brake lights move out onto the highway. 
	He looked up at the sky as he waited for news, not wishing to reenter the SUV just yet. He felt less constricted out here. The night was clear and there was no moon. The stars shone down, twinkling brilliantly. There weren’t many places in the world where the sky looked like that these days. Esteban found himself praying for Johnny in that moment. He thought Johnny might be okay, but that man was more than a teammate. He was a close friend. Family, even. This team was really the only family that Esteban had left, and he knew that the others felt the same way. He’d never admit it out loud, but he was more loyal to them than to the agency. It was a dangerous truth for a soldier to hold in a world of spies and secrets. He didn’t care. He trusted them without question.
	“Replacement vehicle collected,” Viktor’s voice barked into the Bluetooth, making Esteban jump. The report was five minutes early. “On my way back, Cross,” he added.
	Esteban took one final look at the sky, sighed, and began unloading equipment from the Suburban. The Agency would either destroy or recover the SUV, and it was best to leave it empty in case it was found by anyone else in the meantime. He also took its plates. This vehicle had no VIN, so if the local authorities found it, they wouldn’t be able to trace its origin. 
	Shortly after he finished, he heard the sound of an engine flying across the desert. Looking up and donning his night vision goggles, he saw the shape of a dune buggy speeding towards him. “Is that you, Spook?” he asked.
	“It’s me.”
	Esteban chuckled as the buggy approached and slowed down, its wheels bounding wildly over the terrain while Viktor swayed within the carriage. “Eagle’s gonna kill us for getting to drive that thing without him.”
	“So don’t tell him,” Caroline suggested.
	“I will tell him just to see his face,” Viktor said. 
	Esteban tied their gear down in the black carrier box attached to the back of the buggy, then strapped himself into the passenger seat. “What do you say, Spook? Shall we get some sleep back at base? We can’t go back to the compound tonight.”
	“Agreed,” Viktor said.
	“Approved,” Caroline said. “There’s no use trying to infiltrate the compound while it’s on high alert, especially while you’re one man short. I’m getting you plane tickets home and will prepare another assignment for two while we wait for Agent Screaming Eagle to recover.”
	“How is he?” Viktor asked, sounding slightly breathless as he bounced up and down. “Have the EMTs said anything?”
	“He’s starting to gain consciousness and he doesn’t need stitches,” Caroline said. “Both are good signs. I’ll let you know when I hear more.”
	“Thanks for everything, Hydrangea. Agent Cross signing out,” Esteban said. 
	“Signing out,” Viktor echoed.
	“Signing out,” Caroline said. “Plane tickets will be in the glove compartment by morning. Stay safe.”

	“YOU KILLED MY WIFE!”
	Johnny banged harder on the door that Caroline wouldn’t open. His head throbbed but he didn’t care. People stared up and down the Hall of Handlers, but he didn’t care. She had to answer him. She was his Handler. This was treason. If she didn’t answer, she was a coward. He was never going to forgive her.
	“YOU KILLED MY WIFE!”
	“Ex-wife,” Caroline corrected him from behind. “If memory serves, and if you enjoy wallowing, you still have a backup ex to cling to.”
	He spun around to face her a little too quickly, feeling clouds and water play tag underneath his bandages and behind his eyes. The sensation nearly made him vomit, but he clamped his jaws shut and the vapors in his head slowed and steadied again. Caroline looked up at him, one perfectly penciled eyebrow raised in cool defiance. Somehow, she leveled him with that look, and Johnny forgot what his response was going to be. Or was that just the concussion? 
	“Shall we go inside?” she suggested, lifting her access card. “As entertaining as this all is, I think we should speak privately.”
	Despite his fury, Johnny allowed her to move smoothly past him and unlock her office door. As soon as they were inside, he slammed the door behind him and bared down upon her, pointing one large finger at her face. “You killed Michelle. Don’t deny it.”
	“I ordered an operative within the prison to dispose of her,” Caroline confirmed, calmly placing her coffee next to her keyboard. “She was a risk to the Agency.”
	“I never told her anything,” Johnny said defensively. “I never said a word, you murderous-,”
	“Think carefully, now,” she said dangerously, “or you might say something you’ll regret.”
	“I never told her anything!” he yelled in her face heedlessly.
	With stunning speed, one of her hands, raking like claws, grabbed his chin and held his mouth painfully, jerking his head even closer towards hers. A couple of his teeth broke into the flesh of his cheeks, and as he tasted blood, she snarled, “I know you didn’t tell her anything, you prick. Do you think I’d let you live if I even considered the possibility that you had?”
	Her cold blue eyes bore into his dark ones, demanding an answer. He growled and grabbed her wrist. He knew the answer, of course. She’d have had him killed as well. But he wasn’t ready to play her game on her terms.
	“Let go of me,”	she demanded.
	“You first.”
	Caroline paused, then they let go of each other at once. Before he could pull away, her other hand came flying out towards his face. It connected with the bridge of his nose with a wet, crunching sound.
	“GGAAHHHHH!” he cried out, holding his whole head. The pain of his broken nose had set off the pain in the rest of his skull, and it felt like his own pulse was going to split his skull into two.
	“HOW DARE YOU?!” she shrieked. Her heeled shoe jabbed mercilessly in between two of his ribs and Johnny cried out again. She knelt down, her charcoal gray hose ripping against the rough carpeting, and grabbed him by the collar. He struggled, but she jerked him around until he faced her. “Your ex-wife was an extremely intelligent con-woman with dangerous connections. You didn’t need to tell her anything for her to know that your stories never added up. She suspected your knowledge might be valuable to her, and she would have been right. She sent a contracted assassin to follow you, to kidnap you, to extract information from you, and probably to kill you. You can thank Esteban and Viktor that you’re still alive, but don’t you dare forget to thank me while you’re at it, you ungrateful little shit.”
	With that, she released him. He staggered to his feet. She rose and walked calmly back to her office chair. Wiping his blood from the heel of her hand with her Starbucks napkin, she said, “You may go, Agent Screaming Eagle.”
	“You can’t just dismiss me,” he growled.
	“Yes, I can,” she corrected him, “and I do. Get out.”
	Seething, he walked slightly crookedly to her door and moved to grab its handle.
	“And Johnny?”
	He froze but didn’t turn around. The sound of warm honey dripping from her voice was definitely a bad sign.
	“I’m giving you a pass just this once considering you’re injured and grieving, but if you ever speak to me like this again…”
	He almost glanced over his shoulder as he waited for the rest of the sentence. At the same time, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to finish it.
	All warmth left her voice as she finished obligingly, “I’ll make absolutely certain that the next time is your last.” 

	Esteban let out a low whistle. “She said that to you?”
	Johnny nodded mutely and took a sip of whiskey that he wasn’t supposed to have, moving the glass carefully around his swollen nose. 
	Viktor chuckled and dealt out their hands for poker. “I suspect that you may have deserved every ounce, my friend,” he admitted. “Did she break your nose, too?”
	Johnny glared at Viktor and said defiantly, “Yes.”
	“Why?” Viktor asked smugly.
	Johnny looked at them both, then lifted his glass back up to cover his nose and mouth.
	“Why?” Viktor pressed.
	“I grabbed her,” Johnny said so quietly that they almost didn’t hear him.
	Viktor stopped dealing and looked up at Johnny in shock. Esteban gaped at him too, one hand on his whiskey, the other frozen in midair, failing to catch the poker chip he’d been flipping. It clattered to the floor, where Esteban’s German shepherd, Rex, watched it curiously.
	“You’re insane,” Esteban breathed finally. “You sure you’re still alive? You’re not just Johnny’s ghost haunting us from beyond the grave?”
	Johnny snorted in wry laughter, and then winced at the pain.
	“You lost control,” Viktor accused him, shaking his head and finishing dealing their hands. “I was wrong; you didn’t get what you deserved. She went easy on you.”
	“You know that she got promoted into the Handler position, right?” Esteban asked, picking up his cards. “As in, she did field work first. And she mostly worked alone. She’s better than us in a lot of ways.”
	Johnny glared at Esteban, who looked earnestly back at him. After a moment, he finally thawed. “Yeah. I know. You’re right.”
	“And you know she had to do what she did,” Esteban pressed.
	“Yeah. I know.”
	“You need to apologize,” Viktor said. “And it’s going to take more than a cup of coffee.”
	“Yeah.” Johnny sighed. “I know. But not today.”
	Viktor and Esteban looked at Johnny. Behind the nose brace, behind the bruises and swelling, his dark eyes were heavy with the pain of loss. He wasn’t crying. He didn’t need to. Esteban recognized that look from seeing it in the mirror, and he knew Viktor saw the same. 
	“No,” Viktor agreed. “Not today.” 
	“I am taking this, though,” Esteban said, taking Johnny’s glass of whiskey.
	“Hey!”
	“You think Caroline is mad now?” Esteban said, draining Johnny’s glass for him and moving to the sink of his kitchenette to get his friend a glass of water. “Just watch and see how she reacts when she hears Viktor and I accidentally killed you by allowing you to wash your oxy and sorrow down with JD instead of Woodford Reserve.”
	Johnny glared at them incredulously, but Viktor sighed in mock regret. “That is not how I plan to die. You’re done drinking, Johnny.”
	“Oh come on, I’m fine,” Johnny grumbled.
	“I need a relatively sober driver anyway,” Viktor said, draining his gin.
	“You…what? Why? You live across the street. It’s not like you need a ride home,” Johnny said.
	Esteban and Viktor looked at each other. Viktor had a vigilante streak unknown to anyone save Esteban and Viktor’s victims. Tonight’s catch was a rapist-murderer with a sick thing for blondes. 
	Viktor’s dead sister had been blonde like him. Esteban had seen a small, creased picture of her in Viktor’s apartment. He didn’t know a lot about the circumstances of her death, but Esteban was willing to bet that this particular criminal’s modus operandi hit Viktor a little too close to home. It made sense in an odd way that this might be why the man was still alive now. Normally Viktor didn’t play with his food before eating it, and normally he didn’t ask for help. Whatever it was that Viktor needed from Esteban, they had an unspoken understanding that Esteban wouldn’t hesitate to give it, from waiting silently in the car to tying the criminal by the ankles to a bridge over water and waiting until the man’s abdominal muscles betrayed him and let him drown.
	“Promise not to tell Caroline?” Viktor asked.
	Almost as if on cue, a muffled shout and a kick came from Esteban’s bath tub. Johnny’s swollen face broke into the first grin they’d seen from him all night.
	Family before Agency, Esteban thought to himself. He’d chosen his family well.

 

Tags: Sad, Humor, Anger, Dark,