Evenfall (6 page)

A long suffering sigh answered him. "In any case, the conditions of your release are to retrain, to become a full-fledged member of the Janus unit as well as taking on your previous duties. And once again we will be inducting a second field agent to the unit, a level 9 who will be--"

"Fuck that."

"--trained specifically to be your partner."

"No way in hell." Sin was already standing up, his back stiff with anger at the mere suggestion of going through that again. "I'd rather go back to the Fourth."

Carhart's patience seemed to have reached the end of its rope. "But you won't just go back to the fucking Fourth, Sin. You'll go back to the box and this time, you won't be getting out. They're not just using it as a temporary punishment anymore, Agent Vega. That's your fate if this doesn't work out. Now you tell me-- which do you want to choose?"

Sin grit his teeth and looked away, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the city's broken skyline, at the destroyed suburbs that lay beyond the city limits.
Evidence of the war. "I won't play somebody's power games. I won't let some idiotic thick-necked field agent treat me like an animal. I don't care what you do to me."

"And I'm telling you it won't be that way this time!" Carhart slammed his hands on the desk in frustration, causing coffee to slop out of the side of his mug and splash on the files that rested beside it. "We're going through a very extensive process to find a suitable match for you, Sin. Psych profiles, background, personality assessments-- and this time your input will be included. It won't be like it was before."

Sin frowned slightly and looked down at his cup of chocolate milk. He stared at it moodily, weighing the pros and cons. "Why bother?" he asked finally. He looked up at Carhart with a grim smile. "You know I'm damaged goods. You know what happens with me, what always happens with me. I'll always end up back up on the Fourth."

"Well I'm not prepared to give up on you just yet," Carhart snapped impatiently, wiping at his files in obvious aggravation. "You're the best we have and even if they hate you, everyone knows that. Now shut the hell up, drink your chocolate milk and stop being a pain in my ass, Sin. For God's sake."

Sin allowed his gaze to slide out the window once again, watching the smoke-colored clouds drift across the oppressively bleak sky. "I'll agree to it. For now."

Carhart opened his mouth to express his relief but the dark look Sin speared him with after a moment stopped him cold.

"But if you pick the wrong person," Sin said quietly. "It's his fucking funeral."

The General dropped his eyes and focused on his desk once again although his expression had stilled considerably. "Believe me, Sin. I know."

=====

Sin's battered combat boots left dark smudges against the plain white wall of the small, darkened conference room but he didn't shift his position. He remained reclined in the black office chair with his feet propped against the drywall.

Strands of jet black hair fell across his forehead, mixing with the dyed red that was slowly growing out. His face was the picture of boredom, almond shaped green eyes half closed and long black lashes practically resting against his cheeks as he stared through the two way mirror blankly.

"This is boring," he drawled, looking over at Carhart with a frown. "Unless you're completely moronic, it should be clear that the last two candidates are a complete and utter disaster. Who exactly narrowed down your short list?"

Carhart sat on the edge of the table and touched the computer panel, bringing up a holographic image of the information. "Connors did," he replied gruffly. "He insisted on throwing in as many level 9 candidates as possible to save the time and money spent putting a lower level field op through the intensive level 9 training."

Sin smirked. "Since he likely doubts they'll last the initial trial missions, I can't say that I blame him."

Carhart typed something into the touch screen keyboard and Agents Eddy Baxter and Jenny White were marked as unacceptable. The former was a flame-haired level 9 agent from the Counter-Terrorism division who seemed to perpetuate the characteristics that had gotten Sin's previous partners killed. Agent White was a level 9 valentine operative in Intelligence who seemed to think she could use her feminine wiles to tame Sin.

"And Agent Alvarez backed out at the last minute," Carhart scoffed, not hiding the irritation in his face as he marked off Michael Alvarez's name. "General Stephen said he's too frightened of you to be a realistic choice."

Sin shrugged uncaringly although he felt that it would have been fun to torment the man for a few missions before it was deemed a failure.

"So we're left with two level 8 agents and a civilian prospect with no training whatsoever who would be starting off as a level 1 trainee." Carhart grimaced. "Connors won't be pleased."

"How unfortunate." Sin looked at the list finally and noticed Agent Adam Blake's name on it. He instantly recalled the incident in the elevator and wondered at the odd coincidence. "Have them do Blake next."

James Waldon, a well muscled and towering interviewer from Human Resources who looked more like an insurgent than a civilian staff member, disappeared from the small windowless room on the other side of the mirror and reappeared after a moment with Adam.

Now that Sin was looking at Adam's face directly, he realized that the man was actually attractive in an incredibly pale, vampiric kind of way. Adam's thick black hair hung down to the nape of his neck and contrasted starkly with his
wax like
complexion. His dark, bottomless eyes did the same. There was a hooked scar on his right cheek that was likely the result of a mission and another scar that marred the otherwise flawless skin under his mouth.

He was a striking individual and Sin wasn't surprised to look at the file again and see that Adam was also marked as an undesignated valentine operative. The most attractive field agents usually were; seduction was one of the oldest and most lucrative ways of getting information and turning a suspect into an informant.

"He's arrogant," Sin observed idly, studying Adam's expressions and body language as James began the interview.

Carhart nodded his agreement but gave Sin a wry look. "Let me guess-- you're thinking how fun it would be to knock him down a peg or two?"

Sin looked at him from under his eyebrows. "I said no such thing."

"Right."

Most of the interview process was boring since it was the same questions asked again for the third time in the past two hours. James explained the position, Tactician in an elite and very confidential unit in the Insurgency division, and then proceeded to grill the candidates on everything they knew about Sin and his past.

Sin examined Adam's eyes and analyzed every flicker of emotion, every nearly concealed flash of doubt. Yet in the end he couldn't find a reason to entirely loathe the man except for the fact that he was arrogant and predisposed to negativity regarding Sin just like everyone else on the compound. In Adam's case, he was especially likely to because of the company he kept, Morales being one of them.

However, when James began to talk about infamous city center massacre of 2012, Sin's opinion of Adam lifted a bit.

"After the incident with the scavengers and police," James began, blue eyes trained on Adam although his face was entirely expressionless, "news stories circulated about Agent Vega being behind many of the rapes and murders that had plagued the city during that time. The Agency stamped out the publicity effectively enough, as we know Inspector Beaulieu is quite efficient at quieting such things. However, the stories leaked anyway and people remember, specifically Agency staff."

James stopped speaking and stared at Adam with a small empty smile, not asking a question but clearly waiting for a reaction of some kind.

Adam's eyes flicked to the mirror, likely knowing he was being watched, and for a moment his eyes met with Sin's even though the lower ranked agent couldn't see him.

"Well," Adam began, his low voice thoughtful and considering. "As far as I remember, there were also reports during that time of widespread corruption in the police department as well as an embarrassing amount of ineptitude to solve certain crimes due to staff shortage after the economic collapse."

James raised a thick eyebrow and waited so Adam continued, folding his hands in front of him and looking more confident as he continued. "So despite the fact that the incident in the city center was unfortunate, I think it's more likely that the chief of police used Agent Vega as a scapegoat for every unsolved crime in his jurisdiction. Especially considering the shocking nature of the incident and the public's horror and desire to accept an answer as long as there was one."

Sin looked over at Carhart. "He's possible."

The General looked surprised. "I agree but I'm surprised to hear you say it."

Sin shrugged and sat up straight, scooting the chair forward and looking through the mirror seriously. "At least he's not a total fucking idiot."

The next interviewee wasn't as successful. Agent Allen Carson didn't appear overly hostile but he also was quite obviously feeding James rehearsed lines and trying to say what he thought the interviewer wanted to hear. It was obvious that he wanted the job likely for the accolades that came with it. Yet Sin could read naked fear in Allen's eyes when the subject of Sin's past crimes came up.
In the end, Carhart marked the man off the short list.

Carhart frowned as Carson disappeared from the room and Carhart ran a hand through his short blond hair, grimacing at the only remaining name on the list.

Boyd Beaulieu.

"I suppose you're going to have no choice but to do the trial with Blake," Carhart said as he flicked through Boyd's file on the touch screen. His mouth turned down into a scowl.

"No faith in the Inspector's opinion?" Sin asked with an arched brow. "Shocking. I'm sure she'd be quite unhappy to hear how scathing you are about her candidate."

"Well I'm not in the business of wasting time vetting civilians with nothing in their backgrounds but a few college credits in psychology," Carhart replied acidly. "And he's just a kid, at that."

"I was fourteen when I was inducted as an agent," Sin replied, flashing his teeth in something more frightening than a smile as his green eyes bore into Carhart. "He's four years older."

Carhart's eyes focused on the mirror as James brought Boyd into the interview room. "You were fourteen going on thirty-seven and trained by one of the best assassins the Agency ever had. It's hardly comparable."

Sin jerked his gaze away from the General, unwilling to get on the topic of his father. Sin could tolerate Carhart for the most part as long as the subject was left alone.

He looked through the mirror again and for a moment he stared blankly at the individual on the other side of the glass. His eyes traced the features, moving over the black clothing, before once again going back to the face as Sin took in the boy who represented androgyny in every possible way.

He was average height and thin, although unlike Sin the slender build didn't appear to be deceptive. He sat straight in the chair, hands folded in front of him loosely as fine golden blond hair fell past his shoulders and around the lines of his face, half shielding it from view. But Sin supposed, as he eyed the boy, that was probably the point.

Boyd's face lacked the masculine angles so typically found in a man and his features were softer but not overly feminine. He was expressionless, his full lips naturally down-turned in what could almost be described as an unintentional pout.

When his uninterested gaze briefly slid around the room, glancing past the two way mirror, Sin was able to see him more fully. His heavy-lidded eyes were a startling golden brown that momentarily captured Sin's attention to the point that he missed the first few exchanges between the two individuals on the other side of the mirror.

Interesting and not at all like the typical field agents who littered the compound.

Sin's lips pursed and he turned the name over in his head. Boyd Beaulieu. He could see the resemblance in the boy's features if not in his personality-- because as the interview wore on, it became abundantly clear that he didn't actually have a personality.

Boyd's expression remained blank throughout the interview, his eyes empty, his mouth moving only long enough to give answers in a toneless voice.

At a point it became irritating and Sin began to wonder if this was an act. An attempt like so many young people who liked the idea of personifying the bleakness that had encompassed the world after the war. But when the murders were mentioned, Boyd's lack of reaction persisted.
Irritation turned into intrigue as Sin abandoned his previous running commentary with the other candidates and focused entirely on the boy.

There was no fear in Boyd's eyes when James began to show images, no flash of disgust or horror when James whipped out stills from the autopsies. And most interesting of all, Boyd seemed to be completely unaware of the incident in the city center. He had no recollection of a suspected serial killer being mentioned on the news, however brief that time may have been. It hadn't been long before the images of an olive-complected teenager with pale green eyes were confiscated by Agency staff as Boyd's mother had demanded a retraction from every form of media who had covered the story.
None of it seemed to mean anything to Boyd. Sin's face, his name, his crimes-- none of it sparked recollection, fear, or even interest. The boy just didn't seem to care.