It was still dark outside when Levistra arrived in the parking garage near PCPD Central. Levitra entered the office floor the Pliada City Police had cleared for the FBI to total mayhem.
Everybody was running around like something big had just happened that nobody had a response to. The people on the night shift are clearly in desperate need of somebody back in the main office to get in touch with them.
It was still two hours before the morning shift was to arrive, but that never stopped her from being much too early. She checked her watch, 5 am on the dot. She stopped one of the agents running past her and got straight to the point. “What the hell is going on here?”
“Oh, good thing you’re here, Levistra!” He looked into the elevator past her. “You won’t believe what happened!”
Levistra made a hand motion for her colleague to stop promoting and start presenting the big news.
“So, you know how Agent Jettie likes to drive to the presses when he’s on nightshift to get a fresh stack of the papers for the office?” He waved his hand before she could roll her eyes at him to get on with it. “ ‘course, you know. Anyway, get a load of THIS.” He held up the Tribute to her face. And on the front page wasn’t just the clash of the weekend between Vex, the Bomber, and Michael, but a big smugly smiling portrait picture of Michael, her brows furrowed. Manus?
Levitra snatched the paper out of his hand. “What the hell is that? INTERVIEW ON PAGE TWO?! THEY HAD AN INTERVIEW WITH THIS GUY?!”
She felt her heartbeat in her neck, her ears. Trying to calm down, she began pacing up and down the hall. This was a disaster. What was the Tribute thinking about interviewing a wanted criminal? Levistra calmed her breathing. “I will have to borrow this. Thanks, Agent Koll, I owe you one.”
The guy watched her storm off to her office. She didn’t stop when he called after her. “I’m Agent Hull. We’ve been colleagues for years!”
Levistra closed the office door, trying to ignore that minor hick-up, and opened the newspaper's second page.
She was furious. Not only had Michael exposed the current wave of people gaining powers, but he had spun a weave that was poison to their operation. The longer she read, the more urgent the situation seemed.
There was no way of ignoring or delaying this bombshell. Agent Jettie would get a promotion just for his persistent habit. That much Levistra was sure of.
She exited her office and joined the rest of the Agents in trying to get someone with the right pay grade to pick up their phone. They needed marching orders right quick.
For her part, Levistra wanted a personal conversation with the journalist who conducted this interview and had gotten Michael Manus to pose for a nice picture. If she had to wager a guess, the day's first order would be for all junior agents to run defense with parents and families of the concerned parties. While the more seasoned agents will probably be sent to the Tribute to have a word with the people upstairs, the editor, and the journalist in question.
Levistra was almost happy that Vex was still stuck in the hospital, but only almost.
Some yelled and then shushed all the surrounding agents. The guy went back to talk on the phone. Levistra approached quickly, as did the entire office. They all listened in quiet anticipation.
“Yes, Sir. I know what time it is. Yes, Sir, I am very sorry to bother you on your vacation. I- I DO realize it is the first in ten years, and I apologize.”
Levistra rolled her eyes. “Give me that, Kurtis.”
She took over from the entirely baffled Agent Jettis. “Sir, Agent Delemere here. We have a situation, and it seems while you’re on vacation, there is no authority reachable at early hours in the main office.”
The grumpy but concerned voice on the other end mumbled and grumbled for a moment and cleared his throat, followed by a long sigh. “Alright, I’m up. Fill me in, Agent Delemere. If this isn’t important, I will make boots out of Agent Jettis.”
“Sir, once you have the full picture, I do believe you will, in fact, promote Agent Jettis.” Levistra retorted.
“Alright, alright. Cut the crap and tell me about the situation.”
Levistra recounted what a grenade had just landed in their office. The long pause, followed by a barrage of curses and more yelling, was far worse than she had expected.
Somebody had to oversee the worst leak of information from their office in their agency's history, and it was only natural that the person would be less than thrilled about it.
Ravela’s car slowly rolled to a stop at one of the few diners in town open throughout the night. The night shift was about to order lunch, and she was about to have a heavy breakfast.
After putting in all the work the day before in her house, she slept well and had awoken too early, which gave her ample time to start her day and get a hand on the heartbeat of the working night owls.
She noticed that many different characters were gathering in this diner. police officers and emergency workers mostly, but also workers from different trades that kept the world running. Here and there are even small cliches of Swady gangsters.
It was like sitting at a watering hole observing the different prey animals and rival predators peacefully drinking next to one another. It would be quite fascinating if you were shooting a documentary on humans.
‘You know that is an oddly funny idea. I like that.’ The voice chimed in unprovoked.
‘Oh, I thought you’d be sleeping in.’ Ravela immediately changed the topic.
‘I might have, but I noticed you were thinking breakfast, which piqued my interest.’ Came the prompt response.
Ravela smiled at the approaching waitress. ‘I wouldn’t want to miss out on breakfast either. I’m thinking scrambled eggs, pancakes, and a chocolate shake.’
‘I like the strawberry ones.’ Her inner voice declared, and Ravela decided that she would indulge her for her literal inner peace.
After ordering, she sat in her spot, waiting, observing, and amusing herself with the life of the people surrounding her.
She was pulled from her thoughts by a voice calling out to her.
“Well, well, well, if that isn’t the man, the myth, the legend, Ramiel Roice.” A guy called out to her from a table with a few police officers.
Ravela looked over to the man who had guided all his colleagues' attention to her. The man who had called her out like that wore a cast on his arm. She remembered him from the gas station robbery. The man she had saved.
“How odd that you would show up just as I waste my first day of retirement by pulling a night shift with my old colleagues.” The man said, motioning for her to come over.
As she sat down between them, he once again spoke up. “I’ve met them here actually because of you.”
Ravela smiled and responded. “Then it surely must be fate that I fell out of bed early today.”
There was a bit of chuckling around her.
“Since I’ll be going on a long trip, I’ll be missing your graduation from the academy, which is a shame, but who knew you’d save my life that day, right? Which is why I asked them to stop by on the day and give you this,” He pulled out a glasses case. “They have been mine for almost half my service. I think any good cop needs a pair of shades. It may not be part of the standard uniform, but it really ought to be. Since I am putting down the uniform, I thought I pass my aviator sunglasses on to a new cop, and who better than you?” He held out the glasses case.
Ravela was stunned. She hadn’t expected someone to seriously remember that one deed in a gas station she just happened to stand in. “Wow, that’s. Are you sure you want to give it to me now? I haven’t graduated yet, you know.”
The old man laughed. “Of course, I want to rather pass it on in person, and I have it on good authority that I don’t have to worry about you passing, but if against all odds you manage to pull a complete turn and fail, rest assured that I will stop my journey around the world and come straight back here to take those glasses back and give you an ass-whooping that your old man would be afraid of dishing out.”
Every one of his colleagues laughed. The man let them have a moment before he said. “Have some faith in yourself, kid. You’ve got this. Anyway, it’s getting quite sun-dawny, and I’ve got a boat to catch. You guys keep my city safe while I’m gone. Don’t want a scratch on it when I come back, you hear me?”
Ravela stood up with the retired officer. Before leaving, she once nodded at the gathered officers. Then she followed the old man to the door. “Have a safe trip, okay? No more dangerous shootouts.”
“Oh, yes, that part of my life is now definitely behind me.” The old man said, waving his hand dismissively and slowly walking away into the still-dark city.
Ravela returned to her table contemplative.
‘Coincidences, huh? How high are the odds of them happening to you all the time? Care to do the math?’ The voice commented on the encounter they just had.
‘Oh, stuff it. It is your body that attracts all the incidents.’ Ravela shot her down.
‘The body only goes where it’s steered, you know that as well as I. You have to try much harder, kid. You’re an unlucky charm.’ The taunting continued.
Before Ravela could find a scathing rebuttal, her breakfast arrived, which she paid for then and there with an additional tip. A new patron entered the diner and almost had her choke on the first sip of her milkshake.
Atla Jaest looked around the busy diner, searching for a table.
‘She’s gonna sit here.’ A triumphant voice gloated, seeing itself about to be vindicated.
She looked down to avoid eye contact and started to focus on her breakfast. ‘No, she won’t.’
‘You’ll see. You’re attracting trouble.’ Her inner companion kept insisting.
“Excuse me,” A female voice Ravela knew well addressed her while approaching. “may I sit with you?”
‘I don’t want to hear it!’ She roared over the triumphant, smug wave washing over her.
She looked up at Atla Jaest and acted surprised. “Oh. Sure, why not.”
Ravela studied the woman’s face as Atla sat down opposite her. She looked unnerved and stressed.
Returning her attention to her breakfast, Ravela wondered if it was almost time for the big bombshell article Atla had been sitting on for over a week now.
It, at the very least, looked as though her research had led her to some uncomfortable questions.
Atla ordered a coffee without milk or sugar, and that was it.
‘Slim is the diet that sustained the journalist.’ Ravela mused.
They sat in silence for a while, and she found the rate at which Atla ordered new coffee to be concerning.
She was almost finished with her breakfast when sirens howled and a long convoy of cars turned onto their street. Ravela glanced over at the police officers at the table, tensing just as she did.
‘What are the odds…’ The voice inside her began and trailed of without finishing the sentence.
The convoy of cars came to a screeching halt at the curb. The red and blue lights turned off. The Swaddy patrons wanted nothing to do with whatever was happening, and some began to make their way to the backdoor. That was until that door swung open, and ten men in suits filed.
There was a pause as the gangsters sized up the men. Through the front door came one Agent Delemere announcing, “Anyone who’s Swaddy is free to go, we’re not here for you. Clear out now! We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
Ravela watched the situation defuse as the gangster took that cue to leave in a hurry. She found that the Swaddy were more comfortable with the police in a diner than with the FBI. That told her a bunch about the hierarchy of threats in the eyes of the gangsters.
Something in her whispered. ‘Cursed, cursed, cursed.’
Ravela ignored her companion’s delight and gloating. Why were they here?
Her eyes were automatically pulled to Atla, who quietly sipped her coffee, not paying attention to the tumult in the slightest, or so it would seem to the untrained and well-trained eye of the observer. Ravela, however, saw her face up close. The nervous darting of her eyes spoke volumes.
It was at that moment that Ravela realized today was the day her interview had hit the paper. It was the worst possible time.
“We’re here to meet a certain Constantine Severus, and we were assured by his editor that he would be here. So, unfortunately, for all present, we’ll need to talk to everybody currently having their well-deserved break here. If Constantine Severus would be so kind to indicate by show of hand if they might be willing not to ruin all these fine working folk’s start or end of the day, this could go much faster.”
There was a long pause, and people looked at each other and then at Agent Delemere.
Ravela’s gaze wandered back to Atla, who looked pale. Naturally, you wouldn’t want to give yourself up to a federal agency when you just released a bombshell interview that gave their current most wanted a voice and pulled down their pants and kicked them in the ass for good measure. She perfectly understood Atla’s current predicament.
The question now was, should she let this play out, or should she help Atla get out of here if possible?
She was tempted to intervene, but that would put Ramiel Roice in the crosshair of both Atla Jaest and Agent Delemere.
‘What was the worst they could do to her?’ Ravela wondered. As per the constitution, her journalistic activity was entirely legal. The worst thing they could do was try to get information from Atla regarding Michael.
Ravela was reasonably sure that Atla had no such information to give.
She hesitated. There was something Atla knew that would tie Michael’s character further into the past and into a hotel room booked by one Ramiel Roice.
Ravela slowly removed her name tag from her recruit shirt. Atla had to get out of this diner. They could not question her if Michael was to remain a ghost.
As the agents began to spread out among the furious guests, Ravela used the moment to look directly at Atla, she said quietly.
“Mrs. Jaest,” She addressed the startled woman. “I think you feel incredibly unwell. In fact, you may want to feel like going to a hospital right now.”
“And who are you to say that,” Atla asked with narrowed eyes. “And how do you know me? I just sat down randomly at your table.”
“Fate is a fickle thing, isn’t it?” Ravela smiled. “Sitting coincidently at the table with a friend of a friend.”
Atla’s eyes widened, and Ravela smiled in a friendly way. “Now would be the ideal time to develop some acting skills. That is if you don’t want to see what the federal government will pull out of their asses to get you to talk.”
There were many thoughts and emotions visibly running over her face. Before they were replaced by a pained expression, Atla slumped over and off her bench, making a great show for all attending patrons and agents.
Ravela swooped off her chair and started a concerned interaction with her.After a few minutes of concerned acting and asking for a doctor she declared that she would take Atla to the hospital down the road.
As she helped up the acting Atla, Ravela was suddenly face-to-face with Agent Delemere.
“Ma’am, if you don’t mind, I think this situation takes slight president over whatever this is,” Ravela spoke calmly.
“You’re not leaving here without being identified. Neither of you.” Agent Delemere insist.
“Ma’am, am I detained?”
Agent Delemere’s eyes narrowed. “Listen here, recruit,” She looked down to Ravela’s shirt pocket. “missing his nametag. Very convenient. I can make your career in the PCPD exceedingly short, so you will cooperate here.”
“That’s not a yes, Agent. What was your name again? You never announced that, or as a matter of fact, with what authority you holding everybody in here.” Ravela stood a bit taller. “Since you failed to verbally affirm that either of us are, in fact, detained for a lawful reason, I will go ahead and walk with my conscience to the hospital. If you wish to ruin my future over that, these wonderful officers over here know who I am and will probably be delighted to have you make good on your threats against me. Now, if you’d please make way, unless, of course, you wish to hold this woman here while you clearly search for an man.”
Agent Delemere looked at the officers in question, who all crossed their arms, signaling to her a nonverbal snubbing of their noses. She wouldn’t make friends with the PCPD by bullying one of their recruits for doing the right thing while she clearly was trying to hold and question him without cause.
“Fine, leave.” Agent Delemere hissed.
Ravela smiled. “Thank you. I knew I could count on the FBI to behave honorably and lawfully.”
She smiled while walking away. A part of her couldn’t believe that they would really just let her walk off without identifying her. Ravela found a new appreciation for the Constitution and the rights it afforded her.
Ravela made it out of the diner with Atla and kept the charade while walking to her car.
Helping Atla in the passenger seat, Ravela walked around her car and hopped into the driver’s seat.
Once they were driving, Atla turned to Ravela. She could basically hear the storm of questions roaring through her mind.
‘Drive her to the hospital as you said, then make it look like something is leaving your body and pretend that you don’t know how you got there. You could even have a visible energy effect leave your head or something. I bet she won’t know what to say or ask you afterward.’Her companion chimed in with a helpful idea for a change.
Ravela found the idea oddly smooth. It would keep Ramiel Roice off Atla’s radar simply by dismissing him as a pawn that wasn’t actually part of the organization Michael Manus belonged to but just commandeered by one of Michael’s compatriots. Which may awaken in her a new paranoia, but that was a minor price to keep her out of the FBI’s grubby hands for the moment and Ramiel Roice an afterthought.
She drove all the way to the hospital and stopped at the curb near the main entrance. She turned with a pleasant smile toward Atla and said.
“Glad I could help you out there, Mrs. Jaest. Unfortunately, this is where we must part, for I am quite the busy bee and am needed elsewhere.”
Ravela kept smiling while she waited for Atla’s response.
“And how would you know that I would need help, Mr. …” She looked expectantly at her.
“Oh dear, oh no, see, I am not here. And to answer your question, I believe it would be easiest to leave now. Goodbye, Mrs. Jaest.” Ravela said and winked at the confused journalist.
“What is that supposed to-” The annoyed journalist began and stopped abruptly as Ravela made a small visible light show around her forehead and layered some over her eyes for good measure. Then she let the light zip up toward the car roof and fade.
Ravela blinked and shook her head. It was her time to try herself at acting.
“Huh. Who are you?” She said, looking around. “And why are you in my car?”
Atla’s eyes looked like they’d fall out of their sockets and she visible lost color in her face. “I-I- uh…I have to go.”
Ravela kept her bewildered face while Atla Jaest almost doubled over in her haste to leave the car.
“Hey, hold on. Who are you? Where are we?” Ravela kept the farce going. “What happened?”
It took effort to keep the corners of her mouth from rising. The laughter ringing out in her mind didn’t exactly make it easy. She had to get out of her before she lost it and burst out laughing.
“Is this my car? This is my car! Screw this, I’m out of here!” Ravela said and took off shortly after pulling the passenger door shut. She took the first right turn available, and the moment her care was out of Atla’s view, Ravela lost it completely.
The whole situation was just so bizarrely ridiculous, and her cop-out for helping Atla out was just the cherry on top.
