NOW
"Sir?"
Fairfax Keel jolted awake, almost falling off the couch as he tried to right himself. With one hand on the carpet to make sure his face didn't slam into it, he felt the tablet slide off his chest and swore as he tried to catch it. He ended up on the floor, clutching the thing to his chest, and peek up at Rourke standing awkwardly over him with the penthouse phone in one hand. He stared at her meek smile for a moment before reaching up and taking the thing. "This Callahan?"
"No sir. Didn't give a name but he had an old identification code. JTF, he said."
Keel let out a sigh, taking the phone and clambering up onto the couch. He stared past the empty couch Lucas had been lounging on before he told Callahan to discharge him, at his own reflection in the window out onto the dark sky over the city, and put the device to his ear. "Seb?"
"I have been trying to contact you for an hour now. What gives?" Sebastianne Kurachek's voice came over the line. "She's almost here!"
Keel swiped up the notifications on his tablet. 107 messages in total, all from him. "Shit, I must've nodded off. So Abigail's decided to go on the offensive, huh? What do we have? More mercs? They think they can take D5 on home turf?"
A few seconds passed in silence. Agent Rouke fiddled wildly, but chose not to comment on his words.
"Seb?" he asked again.
"Are you on drugs or something?" Kurachek asked. "Did you read my messages? This has nothing to do with the rich bitch."
False alarm, he mouthed quickly to Rouke. He deflated slightly on the sofa, somewhat relieved. "Which one? Most of them are just you saying variations of my last name."
"Er...doesn't matter! Remember when I told you I wanted you to meet someone and it was really important? Well she's almost here."
"O-Okay, where are you?"
"Downstairs in the cafe."
He frowned, looked at the "03:22" in the corner of his tablet, and then gave Rouke a worried expression. "This building locks down at eleven. The security system is Division level."
"Took me twenty minutes," Kurachek nonchalantly. "I've been here before, remember? And I notice everyt-"
"Everything, yeah, I get it. I'll be down in a moment." He hung up and handed the phone back to Agent Rouke. "Wanna come?"
"I'm not sure how I could be of help." She placed the phone back in its alcove in the wall. "Besides, I don't have clearance for JTF business."
"Technically not JTF business. Besides, if Kurachek is gonna keep trying to break into your place you might as well get to know him." Keel picked his coat off the back of the sofa and threw it on, stepping over to the darkened window to check on his hair. "Also I won't say no to an extra gun."
"Is he dangerous?" She removed the pocket pistol from her blazer and checked its magazine.
"Seb is more a danger to himself than to anyone else. I'm just more concerned about who or what he's bringing. Could be a normal woman, could be a seven-foot-tall killer automaton he's blackmailed into helping him."
"Has...has that happened before? I think Captain Callahan might be a better option."
"Callahan might just shoot him on sight. I think it'll be fine." He gave her a smile, and started towards the lift.
The ride down to the lobby was spent skimming through the messages he had missed. In true Sebastianne fashion, it started with the tail end of a discussion of information he'd requested on Abigail and her cousins, and once the tablet had stopped registering him as having read the messages, devolved into a series of attempts to get his attention. Interspersed into the increasingly uncreative nicknames Seb came up with during his absence were for some reason rants on tangential topics stemming from the aforementioned nicknames he found somewhat interesting. He shook his head and turned off the tablet as the lift reached the lobby floor.
A few of the lights in the big space outside were on in favour of the closed-circuit cameras, but it was otherwise vacant. He took one step out, about to ask Agent Rouke where the cafe was, when he heard the sound of a chair dragging across the tiled floor. He turned to the corner further along the wall from the lift, where an open shutter under the cafe's sign allowed more light to spill out into the dimmed lobby. As he approached and his eyes adjusted to the difference, he could make out a wiry man in a hoodie over a mismatched vest, adjusting his glasses as he attempted to find a socket for a panini press near the table he gad picked out.
"Hungry?" Keel asked, crossing his arms as he stopped to watch. Rouke stopped to stare just behind him.
"Do you realise how many things you can't get delivered to the archive?" Kurachek said from under a table. "I've been craving a ploughman's lunch sandwich for months."
"Then maybe you should leave sometimes and get one. You know, like a normal person." Keel took one of the chairs.
"I don't know. Seems like it would become less special if I could have it any time I wanted." Sebastianne emerged from under the table and flicked on the switch of the press, sandwich presumably already inside. He sat down in the opposite share, self-satisfaction plastered on his face as he looked between Keel and Rouke. "You're just in time. She should be at the front now."
"So who is this then? You know you didn't actually explain who I need to meet at any point."
Seb chuckled, then glanced nervously out into the lobby. "Well that's...you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"More unbelievable than a Celedon?"
"...yeah, actually."
The front door of the building altered the air pressure in the lobby as it opened, and Keel turned to peer through the darkness. Entering through the door was a raven-haired woman in a long, brown trench coat, her heels clattering across the floor. She waved, and Sebastianne waved back with the largest grin Keel had ever seen in his face.
In that moment, it clicked. He had expected a disguised demon, a professor from the nearby university, or even a criminal informant of some sort, but not...this. He reached over and squeezed Sev's wrist, getting his attention. "No fucking way," he said quietly. "I fucking refuse."
Rouke had apparently picked up on it too, as she began clapping happily. "She's very pretty!"
"What's so hard to believe?" Seb smirked.
"I've practically never seen you leave the archive except for emergencies. There's no way you have a-"
"Girlfriend?" the newcomer asked, now standing in the cafe entrance. She wore the same smug look that Seb had on, and suddenly, Keel found it a little more believable.
Then he blinked. She had been at the far end of the lobby, and he hadn't heard her running. He let go of Seb's arm and stood up. "I don't believe we've been introduced."
She held out a hand. "Daara Sadoul, private eye. Keeping business separate was my idea."
"Good call." Her grip was firm. He felt a couple of runed rings on her fingers, not no wedding band. "Fairfax Keel, Minister of Defense. I'm sure you know Seb does highly sensitive work."
"He didn't even tell me what I'm here for. Is this..." She glanced around. "Is this place even open?"
"Nope," Sebastianne said, opening the panini press a little to check on his sandwich.
"What did he say exactly?" Keel piped up, sitting back down.
"That he needed me to pick him up." She looked at Seb. "Late shift or something, and he wanted me to meet his boss. But no details."
"Yeah," Seb said. "I might need to ask a favour."
She frowned. "What is this about?"
"I can't tell you the whole story until the investigation is over but...can you show him that thing?"
Her face fell. "Oh."
"If you're not comfortable," Keel started. "You don't have to do anything."
"So that's what this is. Will it help the investigation?" Daara glared at Seb.
He nodded.
She sighed and undid the sash of her trench coat. Once the buttons were undone, she shrugged it off, and as she turned to grab it, he saw them. Sprouting through the gap in her open back blouse, jutting from the posterior of her shoulderblades were a pair of dark, feathered wings that matched the colour of her hair. He heard Rouke audibly gasp behind him, but he remained composed, only feeling one eye twitch "You're yokai."
"Karasu-tengu," Daara said, flexing her wings a little. "My parents came from a village up north. I grew up here."
"On a cold, forested mountain?" Keel raised an eyebrow.
"I'd ask how you know that, but I also don't remember anybody from back there. Is this all?" She was clearly uncomfortable.
"Yeah," Seb said, looking away. "Can I have three days off? I'd love to spend more time with Daara."
Daara was putting her coat back on. Her eyes lit up. "Well that's new."
"Agent Rouke," Keel said. "Would you kindly escort Miss Sadoul back to her car? I need a private moment with Seb here."
"Y-yessir!" Rouke indicated the lobby once more, leading a concerned Daara away. "I'm sure they won't be long."
"It was lovely to meet you!" Keel called after them, and watched like a hawk until they were out of the building. Then he turned to glare daggers at Sebastianne. "You motherfucker."
"Say what you want. I know what I believe in."
"Did they let you read my file? Who was it, Warrington?"
"I was given your file the moment I joined JTF," he said. "It's not personal."
"Not personal? You knew exactly what that would do. What I would do"
"So I was right. You were actually considering putting the blame on them."
"There are things at stake here that are bigger than this. Bigger than us. There's a war coming, Seb. I don't exactly have this luxury right now."
"But still you're going to switch lanes."
"Don't pretend like you know me."
"I know your conscience." He tapped something on his phone, and Keel's own buzzed. "I just sent you everything I could dig up on the Knessant girl. You probably think there's no other way, but...maybe that's not what matters. It's your choice either way." He stood up and put his sandwich in a paper takeaway bag. "Win a war? At what cost? I'm taking tomorrow off." He took a bite of the panini, recoiled at the heat, and then walked off into the lobby.
Fuck fuck FUCK. The absolute bastard. Who the hell even toasts their goddamn ploughman's...
Keel wasn't sure how long he sat there, but once again, it was Rouke who brought him back to reality. "Sir?"
He blinked. "Have they left?"
"Yes. Are you alright?"
He exhaled sharply. "That's a good question, Aisha. Can you draft a letter for me? To captain Van Buuren at the garrison."
"What for, sir?"
"I'm not sure yet. But I want to talk about it in the morning." Keel stared off into space. The heat from the open panini press made part of his vision shimmer like a mirage. His finger tapped on the file Sebastianne had sent. "I think I'm about to do something really stupid."
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