The Next Bit of Nothing (9)
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I came in… three hours ago… for an interview,Risa thought. And since then I found out dragons are real, walked through the metro tunnel to locate a magical artefact and robbed a dead body… and you're asking me to do that again? You people are crazy!
She looked up and suddenly became acutely aware that Swan was looking at her with a slightly amused smirk, while Wolf's expression was scrunched in a frown.
I didn't speak out loud, did I?she panicked briefly. No, they are just waiting for your answer… what was the question? Oh, Raven. Right. He's got a temper on him and is about as pleasant as a thorn in one's side… but at least he has shown me the ropes...
“I worked with worse,” she concluded the thought out loud to the sound of Swan's chuckle.
Wolf's mouth twitched in a half-smile, but he nodded at her, not saying anything.
“Um, so… yeah, I think I can handle one more thing,” Risa finished a bit sheepishly, but with determination. This is right and I'll do whatever it takes.
The two directors exchanged a look and nod.
“In that case, we'll be sending you to Paris with Raven, to deliver the package you just brought to its next destination,” Wolf told her. “It should only take a day.”
Paris? I am to go to Paris… with a person I barely met? On the orders of a bunch of…she didn't really finish the thought as her eyes met Swan's.
“We know it's all a bit sudden, Osprey,” the woman said. “That is a part of the job, I am afraid.”
Now it was Risa's turn to chuckle, but there was no humour in it.
Of course it is.
“Why don't you go grab a shower and change out of these clothes,” Swan continued. “That will give you time to think about it. It is enough if we get you and Raven on the afternoon flight out today, should you choose to accept the mission.”
So it's a mission now? But is it impossible? Let's hope not.
Risa nodded and stood up, just as the door opened and once again Swallow led her to the apartment where she left her things.
“You can treat this as your personal apartment now, Osprey. Take all the time you need, and when you're ready, they'll be waiting for you in the Briefing room. You'll find your way there?”
“Of course. Thank you, Swallow.”
The woman smiled and closed the door behind her. Risa spent a few moments exploring - apart from the huge closet there was a bedroom, a living room and an en-suite bathroom. She made sure the two doors that led to the corridor outside were locked - just in case - and tossed the reeking things into a hamper in the corner of the closet. She didn't realize she was cold until she stepped under the warm water in the shower. Although, on second thought, the shivering might not have had much to do with cold. Maybe it was the anticipation or the fact that her world turned suddenly upside down.
Whatever it was, the sound of water helped her to relax, just like it always did. It freed her thoughts and they started skipping. There were so many things to think about. No need to dwell on seeing a dead body.
Let's see. I am to go to Paris. I always wanted to see Paris. Shame I don't speak any French, though… I hope that's not a problem… It must be nice to just pack up and go… Good thing France is in Schengen - you don't even need a passport… Wait, will I get - like - a secret identity? Oh, Risa, you have watched too many spy movies.
But is this anything else? I mean, I went for an interview… and I ended up in - an espionage movie. Or is this a dream? I certainly hope not! I need this job. Or A job, anyway. And - for some weird reason - this one seems oddly… right.
So… I have a job. It seems.
Maybe I should call mom, tell her the good news. On the other hand, what DO I tell her? What job is this, really? A “magic sniffer”? We don't talk about magic. It is just not done. It is not proper.
Can I even trust these people? Probably not. Not that there would be much to lose… I don't think someone would come up with such a complicated scheme to abduct me and sell me somewhere… I am not that important.
Yet, I am to go to Paris now. Just like that….
Her thoughts continued as she got out of the shower and took a towel.
I guess I should let my room-mates know I won't be around for a day or so.
She strolled out of the bathroom, took her cellphone out of her bag and plopped onto the bed.
Am I being monitored somehow? Most probably. They might have even tapped my phone...
For a moment, she hesitated, deciding what to write.
Might not be around for a few days. The rent is paid.
That should be enough. Unless…
Martin is NOT to sleep in my bed.
With that she dropped the phone again and got up to get dressed. Which posed another interesting problem.
The interview clothes were nice, neat, but slightly uncomfortable. Not something she would want to wear on the plane.
If this is now my apartment...she shrugged mentally, then let's take another look at that closet.
It didn't disappoint. In a couple minutes she was clad in a pair of black bootcut jeans, soft black shirt and dark grey Joules jacket. She accessorized it with a red scarf and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked a bit older now. Maybe twenty. And maybe a little British.
Shoes she could use her own.
They ARE sensible. They look nice, but they are comfortable. I can walk in them all day… even run, if need be. But I am glad I didn't take them into the tunnel. They would have gotten dirty… and stinky.
She spared herself one last look in the mirror, straightening a stray strand of her still slightly damp hair and subconsciously drawing herself up a bit.
Ready or not, here I come, world.
***
Thorne came back into the briefing room about two minutes after Risa left it.
“Your report, Raven, if you please,” Wolf said as soon as he sat down.
“We got in, got the package and got out. Not much more to it. Boar and his team done their thing to perfection, as far as I could tell. Newbie didn't lose her breakfast, which was more than I expected. And she can follow orders. Once you knock her rough edges off in training and explain to her how things really work with magic, she might be decent in the field.”
Raven stressed the word 'might', but Swan smiled, feeling the grudging appreciation behind his words.
“Good. At least something went according to plan - for a change,” Wolf grumbled half to himself, tapping his screen.
There was a moment of silence.
“What's your plan with the package now?” Raven asked.
“We need to complete the hand-off,” Wolf answered, which was really more than the agent expected, when he posed the question.
“...and by we, you mean me, I assume, otherwise...”
“...he wouldn't have told you. Yes,” Swan finished his sentence for him (earning a mild glare in reproach from him).
He would lie if he said he didn't half expect it. Which, however, didn't mean he had to like it any better.
“I thought we didn't know where it was headed.”
“Ultimately, no. But we know it's next stop and that is enough,” Swan handed him a manilla folder.
“Paris?”
She nodded and he leafed through the few pages. It seemed straightforward enough, but…
“They are expecting a female courier,” he said with a sinking sensation, the folder lowered on the desk. “No.”
He shook his head.
“I will NOT lead another untrained lass into danger again. Ever.”
“She is not wholly untrained, Raven,” Swan told him, and he glared at her.
“You want to turn on technicalities? Read my lips - or my mind, Swan - I WON'T do it. And this time, you can't force me by bringing up Hawk.”
“You know how things sometimes work around here, Raven. Need's must,” Wolf's voice was too calm for the situation. “Osprey might not know much else, but surely she can take a briefcase from point A to point B. And make sure it leaves with the right person. She knows the package, she'll have the description of the contact... We could send her alone.”
“You wouldn't,” the agent frowned. “If you wanted to do that, you wouldn't have brought me in.”
“He didn't say we want to,” Swan shrugged. “But you don't give us much choice.”
She didn't bring up Lioness again. She didn't have to, because Thorne couldn't help but thinking about her anyway.
If they send Osprey alone and something happens to her...
“I'll do it,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “...but you better think hard about the personnel problem you have here.”
He took the folder up again.
“When do we leave?”
***
Risa walked briskly down the corridor. A group of men passed her, going in the opposite direction. She recognized Tiger among them, but didn't make eye-contact. Some quips flew towards him from the others, as they recognized her. Couple of them had comments to her directly, which she ignored. It was hardly the first time something like that happened.
But then she felt a pat on her butt.
Physical contact was a line people do not cross with her. Not more than once, at least. She didn't even think, just reacted. She turned around and, using the momentum of her whole body rotating, punched the perpetrator in the face.
He staggered back (more in surprise, than pain), and, being a soldier, his arms shot up, fists balled, to protect his face and counter attack.
To Risa that gesture was like a red flag to a bull. In her mind, she knew that if this turns into a fight, she won't win. Unless she continues her attack immediately. She needs to get him down, before he attacks back. And make sure he stays down. And so she lunged, all her strength and all the adrenaline from the morning propelling her. She might have resembled a bird of prey swooping down on its victim.
But before she even got close, something caught her hand like a vice. She changed the angle of her arm, breaking the grip, but the person holding her just adjusted and tightened his grasp. She tried couple more times to shake the hold and continue her attack. Finally the grip tightened so much, she couldn't move her arm at all. She would have continued struggling anyway, if it weren't for the words.
“…I don't care, what you were thinking, private! Whatever it was, if you ever think that again, I'll personally rip you a new one. Or let the agent in question do it herself. If you want to stay under my command and in this fine establishment, you will treat EVERYONE here with respect. So, unless you mean to start patting the bottoms of your fellow grunts, to see what THEY make of it, you will not do that to any other personnel either. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, sarge!” the soldier (who resembled a drowned cat) responded.
Risa was silently staring him down - which was quite a feat, considering he was at least six inches taller than her.
“Now, I expect you to apologize,” Tiger - for it was him, who held Risa - spoke again.
“I… yes, sarge.”
The private looked Risa in the eye, and said: “I'm sorry, ma'am. That was uncalled for. It won't happen again.”
There was another tense moment. It didn't look like Risa would back down voluntarily.
“There, lass, no need t' escalate this now,” Tiger grumbled in her ear. It wouldn't do to have a full blown fight break out in the corridor of the headquarters - for such a trifle, none the less. Risa visibly relaxed, and he pulled her to him, just to make sure she won't fly off again. She almost leaned on him - apparently she didn't see him as a threat, for some unfathomable reason - and then pulled away slightly, all aggression gone. He let go of her.
“Run along, Osprey, ya don't wanna be late.”
But she was already on her way to the stairs.
The men perked up after the shock and the unhappy private was on the receiving end of quite a number of jabby comments.
“...your only luck is Tiger can't get to the training room without his card, to give you what for on the mat” one of them chuckled, punching the private's shoulder playfully, while the others chuckled. Tiger stuck his hands into his pockets, already starting to stroll away, but he stopped and turned, pulling something out.
“Ya mean this card, corporal?” he grinned like a cheshire cat. “Always had it.”
Risa's eyes found him as she opened the door of the staircase, and she smirked.
***
The air in the briefing room was tense. Raven was sitting opposite the two directors, staring into some papers. There was a folder on the table in front of a chair next to him. Osprey slid into the seat, unsure what was expected of her. Wolf indicated the folder.
“That's your cover. Strictly speaking you wouldn't need one for this mission, but it's a good practice. Read it, memorize it, live it.”
“Don't overdo it,” Raven grumbled under his breath. He put his papers down and looked at her, expectantly.
She reached for the file, suddenly feeling out of her depth. As her eyes scanned the first page, she said, carefully: “I am no Bond girl.”
“I can see that.”
It was said lightly, but there was a jab in it. Perhaps unnecessary, but Thorne couldn't help himself.
Risa grimaced at him. He matched her glare with his own. Their cover listed them as siblings. At least that should be believable...
“Now, if you're quite finished,” Wolf's voice made them turn to him, “...there are a few points of this assignment we need to go through.”
***
A taxi dropped them off at the Ruzyně airport at 2 in the afternoon. A business man and his little sister, on their way to some high-end shopping and light sightseeing. Not that the Agency would pay for business class tickets. No, economy it was. They each had just one carry-on. Thorne took Risa's from her to stow it in the overhead and she used the moment to slide into the window seat. He didn't mind. At least he'll be able to stretch his legs a bit. He slid the all-important briefcase under the seat in front of him, settled in and closed his eyes. Thus he didn't notice how his new partner gripped the armrests of her seat and tensed up when the plane began moving. Her eyes remained glued to the window even after the plane landed and stopped at the gate on the other side. He had to nudge her when it was their time to deplane, and he briefly wondered if this was, perchance, her first time flying. She dashed through the aisle and finally let herself relax only once she was in the arrival hall of the terminal.
Raven (although she supposed she should think of him as John, to avoid slipping up, if she needed to address him) hailed a taxi and spend the ride small talking with the driver in impeccable French. Risa felt a bit left out, not knowing the language, although she caught her cover name (Rachel) a couple times in 'her brother's' speech. Judging by the exclamations accompanied by repeated punching of the horn, punctuating the drivers talk, she could at least learn swear words quite easily and quickly, if she felt so inclined.
The ride took slightly less than an hour. Paris was… grey. And dull in the gathering dusk. And when the cab finally stopped, Risa thought that if she didn't know any better, she might think they never left Prague. Hotel Europe St. Severin might have as well stood somewhere off Celetná. But the marble framed door and wrought iron railings on the balconies gave it a nice air.
“Merci,” she remembered to say, as she got out of the cab. “Bon soir, monsieur,” she more or less repeated after 'John' who paid the tab, tipping like an American.
They checked in and Risa was surprised to find that they were given an apartment with two separate bedrooms and a living room. The rooms were small, but cosy. The street the hotel was in was quite narrow and busy. Downstairs there was an Italian restaurant and as she smelt it, Risa realized she was quite hungry.
Raven looked at his watch.
“The mass at Saint-Étienne-du-Mont starts at 18:45. It's walking distance, but we should leave now. We'll find something to eat afterwards,” he said and waited for her to deposit her small suitcase in one of the bedrooms.
It was dark already, when they set out. The streets were illuminated by lamps and shop windows. It was obvious the city was just about to come alive for the night. Risa shivered. Something about that last thought was unsettling. As if there really were things lurking…
“Wait. Not that way,” she stopped suddenly and turned back, only to turn left at the nearest corner. “I didn't like the magic there,” she muttered in a voice so low Raven barely heard her over the noise of the crowds. Not that he would have argued, even without the explanation. The way she was leading him was maybe slightly longer, but they had time.
“They forgot to include a devout Christian belief in the cover,” 'Rachel' broke the silence after a few moments. “I mean, the birthplace of diplomacy and democracy, the centre of art, fashion and… the first place WE go to is a church.”
“You don't have to subscribe to a faith to enjoy a church, sister,” 'John' answered. “It's the only place in this city, where you can get some peace and quiet, for example.”
“Not during a mass you can't,” she muttered rebelliously. He just shook his head.
Truth was, he didn't like Paris. On a good day. And today was not a good day. He just wanted the assignment over and done with. He gripped the handle of the briefcase tighter, and sped up. They arrived with time to spare before the mass. They split up at the door, Raven giving the briefcase to Risa, for the first time. She found a place by the aisle about halfway down the nave. She set the briefcase down by the chair in front of it and sat down, leaning back as comfortably, as the chair allowed. Her scarf was now draped elegantly around her neck and fastened by a white fleur-de-lis brooch on her right shoulder. She looked around. Raven found a place couple rows behind her, on the other side of the main aisle. That way, he can see their contact.
The mass began. In French. Or maybe Latin? Possibly both. Anyway, Risa didn't understand and became bored of it quickly. She let her eyes wander around.
The church of Saint Étienne was a spacious neo-gothic building. Tall pillars supporting a lofty vaulted ceiling, stained glass windows that must have been beautiful on a sunny day. Even now, reflecting the poor light inside they glittered with colours. The dark wood of the pulpit contrasted starkly with the creamy white of the stone all around it. It was beautifully carved and topped with and angel, spreading his wings, holding a trumpet. She admired the bannisters of intricate stonework, like grey lace adorning two staircases spiralling like snakes around pillars in the very centre of the church. As her eyes followed them up, she became aware of magic, swirling up, as if ascending them. But on reaching their peak, the two strands or streams of magic joined together in the middle - one whirlpool, reaching up, to the stucco ornament hanging in the middle of the central dome. Voices and feelings, strands of different magics, smaller and larger, feebler and stronger, all seemed to be pulled towards that main vortex.
All, except one - perhaps the strongest of them all. The package they brought seemed unmoved by the magnetism of the place. Unmoved, until the mass came to it's peak. Then, eventhough her eyes were still wandering, she could feel it move and quickly looked. A man (apparently came late to the mass) genuflected just by her, as the ceremony required. As he did so, he put his suitcase next to hers. As he stood up, with the package in his hand, Risa caught a glance of a white lapel pin on his suit. She let him take a few steps, before turning her head and finding Raven's eyes. She nodded. It was the right person. The exchange was completed.
Raven nodded back, but didn't make a move to leave. Risa sighed and turned back to further observe the magic of the church.
***
It was only about half an hour later that the mass ended and they met at the door of the church. Raven took the switched suitcase from her.
“What would you like to eat?” he asked, more gentlemanly now the mission was wrapped up.
“Something French?” she responded. “You know, since we are in Paris, brother.”
She put a special emphasis on the last word, feeling better too, now that the strong magic source was gone. 'John' shook his head at her, but found a nice French restaurant in the university quarter nearby. He helped her pick out her meal and ordered for both of them. The food came with red wine. 'Rachel' barely touched the wine. But still, by the time they were leaving, she was giddy, as if she drank half a bottle. John chalked it up to the fact that she didn't eat much during the day. Fortunately, her behaviour was in no way singular or remarkable in Paris by night. She was pointing out random stuff about the buildings they were walking past, almost skipping down Rue Saint-Jacques. She missed their turn.
“This way, Rachel,” he put a hand on her arm.
“Nah… we're almost by Notre Dame… we should go see that! Come on, brother, you like churches! We're supposed to be sightseeing!”
He shrugged and followed her to the river. She stopped on the bridge and stared. The temple was beautiful, shining with reflected light.
“Would you like a picture?” he offered, pulling out his phone.
“Nah, I'm good,” she shook her head, but didn't take her eyes off the cathedral. He took a picture anyway. Maddie might like it, when she comes back.
“Alright, let's go, John,” his sister turned suddenly and headed back to the hotel. “I'm tired.”
On the way back, before he could stop her, she turned into the little street she refused to go through earlier. She marched right through, to the spot where they turned back, before he caught up.
Maybe alcohol kills bad magic… or the ability to feel it properly.Raven thought.
In any case, it was weird enough for him to ask.
“I thought you said there was bad magic in that alley… did it disappear?”
She stopped and turned back, looking at the street.
“No… it's still there, kind of. But we no longer have anything that would disturb the gargoyles.”
She turned to walk on, adding, over her shoulder: “Do you often transport artefacts strong enough to influence beings like that?”
It was an innocent remark, a throwaway, small-talk question. But Raven froze in spot as if he was struck by a lightning. She realized he was not following and turned back.
His face was like a gathering storm.
“What did you say?”
“Umm… the artefact we carried… would… disturb the gargoyles?” she was suddenly certain she's done something wrong, but she didn't know what.
“Why didn't you tell me that?”
“I… didn't know it mattered?”
He scowled at her darkly and then almost ran past her and all the rest of the way to the hotel. She followed.
“What's wrong?” she tried.
There was no answer, just a door of his bedroom slammed in her face.
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