Chapter Text
THE WEIGHT OF SHADOWS
Coffee.
Thank whatever god for the existence of coffee.
If it weren’t for coffee, Pomni had no idea how she would ever get anything done. Especially on Mondays like these.
It’s not an addiction she tells herself, but who really knows? She’s been drinking coffee religiously since she almost flunked out of college in her freshman year. She used to be so resistant to it. Like it was some sort of gateway drug. Which, to be fair, it is for some. But what really changed her mind, wasn’t the taste or the invigorating effects it had on her waking life. It was the smell. This aroma she could only describe as this divine sensation that honestly did more for keeping her awake than the caffeine itself. Every time she smelled it, she felt at ease. Comfortable. Ready for the ensuing day.
If only the coffee machine wasn’t such a piece of garbage. For a multibillion dollar agency that does some of, if not the most important work in the world, the break room was surprisingly lackluster. A vending machine that was hardly ever stocked. A microwave from the 90s that struggled to even make popcorn. And a coffee machine that took one of life’s greatest joys and flushed it down the toilet.
She would go to the cafe they had in HQ, but she liked the break room’s quietness. It gave her the opportunity to prepare for the oncoming storm that was the intelligence industry. At the cafe, the chaos started early. Orders being yelled out, people inevitably dropping items, constant talking… It was always just too much for Pomni’s still half-asleep brain to handle.
She had always thought it odd that they had a cafe in CITADEL HQ. Like, what kind of security clearances and background checks did these people have in order to work, what would be a minimum wage job anywhere else in the world, at the headquarters of the most secret organization in the world? She hoped they were at least being payed better than the average Starbucks barista.
Pomni sat down at the round wooden table in the corner of the room, facing the entrance. She gazed into her hilariously sad mug of coffee as she stirred in the sugar. It swirled around in the dark liquid until the little white specs disappeared into the abyss. She lifted the mug to her face, taking in a large whiff, and took a sip. She let out a satisfied sigh as the mug was lowered back onto the table with a gentle thud. She closed her eyes and smiled. She was ready.
Well, ready for a normal day, that is. This particular day would turn out to be far from normal.
____________________________________
“Target in sight. The package is being moved East down the alley left of the convenience store,” a brooding voice said over the comm link. To outsiders it would sound like Zooble didn’t give a rat’s ass about anything. But the team knew better. “Circ-2, you’re clear to move.”
Jax always hated that name. ‘Team Circus’ or ‘Circus Team’ they’re called. What’s worse is that it’s not just a nickname; it’s their official designation. It was a coincidence at first, but as time went on, the name started to fit. It’s not like they weren’t good at their job. In fact, they were good, really damn good even. They had one of the highest case and mission clearance rates in the agency. But when things went wrong, they really went wrong. Like, catastrophically wrong. Like Kinger’s explosives going off at the wrong time leaving the team stranded in a city controlled by hostile forces for a week kind of wrong.
“Circ-2, Circ-1 here, I don’t need to remind you that if you’re spotted, we get nothing. They’ll erase the hard drives then and there,” a softer voice said over comms.
Jax, poking his head out from behind a building on the other side of the street from the package, was about to say something when-
“I can hear you rolling your eyes from here. No snarky responses, no, I will not stop using your callsign, focus on the objective,”
Jax let out an annoyed sigh and rounded the corner, walking briskly, but with caution. He began crossing the street, but before he got to the other side, a pickup truck that was definitely exceeding the speed limit laid on the horn at him.
“The fu-?“ Jax couldn’t finish before he had to practically leap out of the way. Once safely on the other sidewalk he turned and flipped the bird at the truck speeding away.
“Real low profile you’re keeping there,” Zooble snarked. Jax shifted his bird toward the tall building Zooble was perched on in the slight distance.
“Enough. Did they notice you?”
“No, Raggy, they didn’t.”
“Jax-“
“Yeah, yeah, call signs, whatever.”
He caught a glimpse of the target rounding a corner to the left, far down the alley. He checked his surroundings: a woman walking her dog on the sidewalk, a man exiting the convenience store, a small group of homeless people in tents at a small grass clearing down the street. Satisfied that his cover hadn’t been blown, he took off in a jog after the target.
He swiftly dodged dumpsters and abandoned shopping carts as he came up to the corner the target had turned. Back to the wall, he leaned and turned his head to look.
“Dammit,” he said under his breath, “I lost him.”
“A block North, he went into the courtyard surrounded by the brick wall. Looks like a loading dock of some sort,” a fragile, almost squeaky voice said over comms.
“Hey, look at that! Ribbons is being useful!” Jax said as he winked at a nearby security camera and continued his cautious jog.
“Watch it,” Zooble said, “You keep that up and I’ll shoot your ear off.”
“Geez, learn to take a joke, Zoobs.”
“Circ-2, focus,” Ragatha said, losing a little patience. “Circ-5, see any way to get him in there?” She said putting one hand on the back of Gangle’s chair and the other on the bottom of her console. The van parked a few blocks away in a parking garage. Not exactly an ideal situation if they needed a quick exfil, but the crowded streets left them little choice.
“Not seeing any on the outside cameras. The only way in from that side seems to be the metal gate the target went through.”
“Locked,” Jax groaned gently tugging on said gate.
“Give me a minute to get into their system,” Gangle responded.
“I can pull up the blueprints from the city archives, I just need an address or a name,” an older yet surprisingly upbeat voice said from the front end of what would be the cargo storage in any normal van.
“I’ll look on the GPS,” Ragatha said hurriedly as she pushed herself off from Gangle’s chair and console.
“Fenceton Shipping,” Jax whispered as he peered through the metal gate.
“Eureka!” Kinger exclaimed. “It’s a warehouse registered under Fenceton Shipping Enterprises. Oh, wait, no I don’t see another way in on the blueprints.”
“Real helpful there, Kinger,” Jax rolled his eyes.
“Thank you!” Kinger responded, not seeming to quite get the sarcasm.
Jax’s face scrunched in the usual confusion that interacting with Kinger caused. He shook his head slightly, and looked around once more. He glanced at the wall spikes on top of the brick perimeter wall. Jax was tall, but not quite that tall. He traced his way slyly around the side of the compound. He looked at the wall of the neighboring building and back up to the wall spikes. Adjacent wall. Wall spikes. Adjacent wall. Wall spikes. He had an idea.
“This is gonna hurt isn’t it?” He said to himself. Reluctantly, he backed up for a running start and launched himself toward the adjacent wall with a jump. He pushed off with his right leg and grasped onto the wall spikes. He grunted as he pulled himself up and vaulted over the spikes.
“Ah, shit!” He almost yelped as he landed. He grabbed his thigh. He pulled it back and saw blood. “Dammit.” He whispered through his teeth. It wasn’t deep, but it still hurt, limiting his movement.
“Language!” Ragatha almost shouted.
“Bite me,” Jax grimaced.
He was behind a stack of wooden shipping pallets and boxes with blue tarps over them. He leaned against them as he reached down and tightened the tourniquet built into his holster. As he raised his hand back up, he unholstered his pistol.
“I’m in!” Gangle squeaked over the comms. “They’ve got an awful lot of security cameras for a shipping warehouse.”
“That’s great, Gangle, ya mind locating the target?” Jax asked impatiently.
“Oh, right, he’s standing alone at a table in the main garage. I don’t see the package from these angles though,” she anxiously replied.
“I’m not gonna be able to avoid all those cameras,” he said as he skulked around the courtyard.
“I could have gangle shut the security systems down, but we’d lose eyes on you when you get inside,” Ragatha said, with a slight waiver in her voice. No one else would’ve noticed it, but Jax knew her too well not to.
“She’s right,” Zooble chimed in, “I’ve had to move like three times just to keep eyes on you in the alleys, there’s no way I’ll be able cover you in there.”
“Way to state the obvious, Zoobie. Look, Rags, you know I can handle myself. Plus I haven’t even seen anyone armed yet. I think most of these guys are just warehouse workers.”
Ragatha rubbed her temple. “Alright. Zooble, get down from the roofs and take the backup car around to the front of the warehouse. Be ready in case Jax needs a hot extraction.”
“Copy,” Zooble said, disassembling their rifle.
“Kinger, start the van, get us ready to move.”
“You got it!” Kinger said excitedly, as he moved to the back doors of the van.
“Gangle, on Jax’s mark, I want you to brick their systems.”
Gangle nodded shyly.
“And Jax? Don’t die? Please?”
Jax gave a rare chuckle. “Whatever, mom.”
“If it’s a quiet exfil, we meet at rendezvous alpha, if it gets hairy, rendezvous bravo,” she added confidently. “Alright, ladies and gentlemen, it looks like the circus is coming to town.”
“Pfft, it’s… kinda cringe…”
____________________________________
Pomni’s desk was illuminated by the three screens with CITADEL’s logo. A seal with a castle watchtower on it and the words ‘Covert Intelligence & Tactical Agency for Defense and Espionage Logistics’ encircling it. Long nam, but at least the acronym sounded cool. The desk was neat and tidy to every passer by, but if someone were to open the drawers, they’d think a hurricane had come through. Pomni joked to herself that it was a perfect representation of her. Perfect on the outside, a mess on the inside.
She plopped down at her desk with a heavy sigh and gently placed her mug to her side. The desk was almost U-shaped so it and the monitors wrapped around her as she worked. She tapped the spacebar and began logging in.
The room she worked in wasn’t like other analysts. It was a long room with desks lining a window at the front, something reminiscent of a control room overlooking a sea of cubicles and rows of computer consoles. It was generally referred to as ‘the floor.’ At the front of said massive room was an enormous screen. Well, a screen made up of separate LED panels. Kind of like the electronics section of a department store. The screen showed a map of the world with different locations highlighted with information about upcoming and ongoing operations. It was where Pomni used to work, until what she hoped was her skill caught the attention of the higher ups. Well, THE higher up. The director himself, she’s told, asked for her to be promoted.
She hit enter on the keyboard and watched her screens come to life with raw intelligence feeds: satellite scans, financial records, travel logs, and intercepted communications. An unending storm of information from other intelligence agencies around the world, including a few that weren’t exactly aware of their being monitored.
Her fingers began dancing across the keyboard with intermittent mouse clicks. She began to fall into a flow state, eyes glancing back and forth from one screen to another, one window to another. The light show reflected in her eyes. Normally she’d be completely overwhelmed and overstimulated by this much information, but for some reason, putting together pieces of the world’s most confusing puzzles almost put her into a trance. Nothing could take her attention away from her work, not even her coffee was strong enough to get both hands off her keyboard. It was the perfect distraction from her almost nonexistent social life and- wait, what was that?
She paused. Something caught her eye. She moved her mouse slowly and cautiously, as if the window she was looking at posed any real danger to her. It felt like she was seeing something she wasn’t supposed to.
Click
She enlarged the window. It was one of the agency’s offshore bank accounts for covert teams stationed in countries that weren’t exactly considered allies. The account had been drained. Three million dollars withdrawn within a week. It wasn’t uncommon for the agency to move around its money from one account to another. Or from one bank corporation to another to keep their funds secret. But there was a schedule for that type of thing. Sure it changed constantly, but wouldn’t she have been notified about a sudden withdrawal of this magnitude?
She pulled up the funds transfer schedule on the screen to her left and put in today’s password. She was almost an accountant before CITADEL recruited her out of college. She was used to looking through financial records and the trades. It’s why some of her coworkers even sent over financial related information they needed help deciphering. This particular account wasn’t scheduled to be shuddered for another two months, and there were no sudden developments listed as reasons for withdrawal in the logs. In fact, it seemed that the database wasn’t aware of the withdrawal at all.
She dragged the schedule window over to the account window and put them together. She right clicked and a menu popped up. She sauntered down the list and flagged it as ‘Immediate’ for needing immediate attention. Now, normally, this would send an alert to her supervisor. But recently, things have started working a little differently.
An animated sphere popped up on her screen. It had two little black eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth.
“Hiya there, Pomni! What can I do for you?” It said cheerfully.
Pomni smiled, “Hey, Bubble, how are you today?”
Bubble was the director’s side project. An AI construct created and personally programmed by the director himself, he was originally intended to be some sort of personal assistant. Still very much a work in progress, he was designed for administrative support and tactical overviews. Bubble had never been field-tested and wasn’t meant to be anywhere near an operation. For some time, however, the director has been allowing analysts like Pomni to work with him as a kind of ongoing test to see how he performed outside the confines of the director’s office.
“I’m an AI, Pomni, you don’t need to greet me with human pleasantries,” Bubble said, digitally blushing.
Pomni let out a small laugh, “I know, but I just like being nice! Anyways, I was hoping you’d be able to help me figure something out. One of our offshore accounts seems to have been drained of its funds, but that wasn’t scheduled and I never got a notification. Is it possible there’s a glitch in the system?”
“According to my diagnostics, all databases are functioning properly and at optimal levels. Which account is it?”
Pomni highlighted the account number and flagged it. “This one, looks like it’s under Fenceton Banking.”
“Hmm. That is unusual. I’ll contact customer support and poke around in their systems if I have to.”
“Wait, you can do that?” Pomni asked, concerned.
“Oh, darn, you’re right. I’ll need the director’s approval. I recommend beginning a report on your findings. I’ll talk to the director.”
“Okay, thanks Bubble,” Pomni said merrily.
“No problem! It is what I exist for after all!” And with that bubble disappeared from her screen with a popping animation.
She turned back to her main screen and began tapping away once more. Then-
“What the-“
She typed hurriedly and began clicking frantically. Her eyes widened more and more with every click.
“Oh sssshhhhhiiiiiiiiiiii-“ she began pushing her chair away from her desk and launching herself into a sprint.
“Shit shit shit shit shit shit-oof” she ran into someone carrying a stack of papers which predictably went flying. “Sorry!” Her already distant voice shouted back.
____________________________________
“Now,” Jax exclaimed in a hushed voice.
Back in the van, Gangle tapped enter on her keyboard and watched as ribbons of red code began entangling itself in the warehouse’s security systems.
Jax saw a nearby security camera go still and lifeless, its red light fading. He began moving swiftly, dodging the sight lines of workers and any unsavory attention.
“I looped some footage on the security room’s monitors, so hopefully they won’t notice their systems crashing for at least another few minutes,” Gangle added.
Ragatha put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a proud nod with a gentle smile.
“In vehicle two, getting on the move, ETA three minutes,” Zooble said in a professional tone.
“Copy,” Ragatha responded, “Jax, remember, if you can’t make it back out the way you came silently, you’re gonna have to make it to the front of the building for Zooble to pick you up.”
Jax tapped his earpiece twice as an acknowledgment.
He slid around, adding a tactical roll here and there for some extra flair. He sat in the shadows behind a large shelving unit in the corner of the main garage.
“I have eyes on the target,” he whispered.
“Copy that, we’re recording,” Ragatha replied with a nod to Gangle who in turn began recording Jax’s comm link.
A sudden shove of a set of double doors startled everyone in the room. A man in a prominent blue suit walked through with an entourage of two bodyguards. One holding a sub machine gun and the other wearing an underarm holster with what Jax presumed was a pistol in it.
“Alright, gentlemen, let’s get started!” The man said strolling casually over to the table set in the center of the garage.
Jax flinched as the garage door mechanism jumped to life, closing said door slowly. He watched as the natural light was blocked from the room.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
“I assume you have it?” The man asked playfully leaning his fists on the table.
“You got that right!” The target exclaimed louder than was necessary.
“Enthusiastic, I like that. Show me.”
The target placed the briefcase on the table. “Uh-uh, money first,” he said.
“Now, that tone, I don’t like. But fair’s fair.” He snapped his fingers and one of his bodyguards brought over a nearly identical briefcase. He opened it with a click and turned it around to face the target. “Three million. Just as agreed.”
The target responded in kind by doing the same. “Hahahaha, hell yeah!” He shouted as they slid the briefcases across the table to each other.
The mysterious man gave a satisfied inspection of whatever was in the briefcase. Jax still couldn’t see what it was though, placing an annoyed frown on his face.
“And with that, I believe our transaction is complete!” The mystery man ended with a clap. “As we agreed upon, you will not attempt to contact us again, nor will you speak of this interaction to anyone else. If we get wind that you are not complying with these conditions, the consequences will not…” he paused with an overdramatic performance of contemplation, “…be pleasant. For either of us.”
“Right, right, whatever, you got it.”
“Why don’t you give our acquaintance our banking recommendations,” the mystery man said turning toward the bodyguard that brought the briefcase.
“Banking recommendations? Man, I wish I could work with you guys again, you guys are awes-“
BANG
Blood splattered on the garage door as the target hit the floor. His shocked expression, now forever imprinted on his face seemed to look Jax directly in his eyes.
“Clean that up and check the package for authenticity. I’ll be in the car,” the mystery man said casually as he pushed open the set of double doors oncer more, this time revealing another set of bodyguards to accompany him.
The shooter placed his pistol back in his underarm holster and pulled a cellphone out of his jacket pocket. The other bodyguard slung his submachine gun over his shoulder and onto his back. He walked over and began dragging the target’s lifeless body away.
The first bodyguard reopened the package briefcase and picked up a thumb drive from the case. He set the phone down on the table and pulled out an adapter.
Jax should be moving, this was the perfect opportunity. Why was he hesitating? His eyes were locked on the target’s lifeless expression, bringing back a memory he thought he’d buried a long time ago. His heart began racing and his breathing erratic. Something seemingly muffled began to bring him back to the real world.
“… there? Respond, dammit! Your vitals are spiking, was that shot at you!?”
Ragatha. He tried to answer, but his voice wasn’t there.
“Zooble, I need you to get in there, hot extract!”
“On it,” Zooble responded seemingly annoyed with the idea of having to save Jax’s life.
“Stop,” Jax managed to finally get out.
“Jax!?” Ragatha exclaimed. “Thank god, why weren’t you responding!? What happened!?”
“I-I… got distracted. I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking. Oh, and watch your language! So unprofessional,” he said with an audible grin. “I’ll get the package. Zooble, get ready, I’ll be out soon. Hopefully without anyone chasing me, but no promises.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see,” Zooble responded.
“Such little faith in me, goodness!” Jax said as he began to sneak behind the remaining bodyguard. One foot at a time in a rolling step. Heel to toe, heel to toe, and so on.
“Knock knock,” Jax said tauntingly.
“What the-“ before he could finish he felt Jax’s hand against the back of his head as he slammed it into the table as hard as he could. He slumped over and fell to the ground.
“Huh, I guess you did the knocking,” Jax said proudly to nobody. He grabbed the phone, adaptor, and the thumb drive that was removed from the case. As he carefully placed it back into the foam-lined briefcase alongside a number of other thumb drives and hard drives, he looked up and met the gaze of the second bodyguard.
“Huh… awkward. I figured it’d take longer to dispose of a body. It usually does for me,” Jax said casually, closing the briefcase and locking the latches into place.
Another second of uncomfortable silence went by before the bodyguard began frantically reaching for the submachine gun slung on his back.
“Uh-oh-“ Jax said before taking off in a sprint toward the front of the building. Automatic gunfire filled the room and echoed like thunder throughout the warehouse. Bullets pinged off metal surfaces and boxes as Jax ran behind a long shelving unit.
He couldn’t reach the set of double doors the mystery man had used, but directly in front of him was a window into what looked to be some sort of administrative office.
“Ah, shit,” he said to himself. “Shit shit shit shit shiiiiiiiiiitttt-!” He shouted as he leaped forward shattering the glass window. He landed on the floor next to a warehouse employee who was on a computer.
“Delivery?” Jax managed to groan through the awkward pause in gunfire, likely a reload.
The worker said nothing, but opened a drawer and reached in frantically.
“Oh, come on!” Jax shouted from the floor, kicking the drawer closed on the guy’s hand. As the guy yelped Jax rolled on his side and shoved himself upright into an another sprint, briefcase pulled tightly to his chest with one arm.
“ZOOBLE, SOUTHEAST CORNER OF THE BUILDING! NOW!!!” He shouted as he looked back to see the bodyguard kicking a door open.
He looked forward again and vaulted over a desk before slamming his shoulder into an emergency exit. Expecting more resistance from the door, he almost faceplanted on the sidewalk pavement. As his eyes readjusted to the sunlight, tire screeching signaled Zooble’s arrival in a somewhat sporty sedan.
“Get in, jackass!” They yelled rolling the passenger side window down.
Jax dove through the opening, basically landing in Zooble’s lap as a result. He looked up and gave a suggestive wink. Zooble rolled their eyes, grabbed his ears and yanked him off their lap before slamming down the gas pedal.
Jax rubbed his ears before sticking his head out the window to look back.
“Bogey on our six, looks like an armored SUV,” he informed Zooble.
“They’re slow, we’ll lose ‘em at this intersection.”
“Wait, what? The light just turned yellow, we’re not gonna make that!”
“We’ll make it.”
“You’re gonna kill us!”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“You can’t make that!”
“Yes. I. Can.”
“LIKE HELL!”
“WE’LL MAKE IT!” They shouted pushing the pedal as far as it would go.
Jax grasped the handle on the ceiling and braced himself for what he hoped would be a quick death.
The light turned red and the cars started to move across the intersection. They flew through, narrowly missing two sedans and a box truck. Jax let out a relieved sigh that turned into a groan.
Zooble glanced at him. “Aww, did the wittle bunny boy get scared? You wet yourself?”
“Fuck you, Zooble.”
“Rendezvous bravo, we’ll see you there,” Ragatha said on comms. “Circ-1, out.”
____________________________________
“Where’s the director?” Pomni asked frantically.
“Conference room. But he’s very busy!” The secretary shouted as Pomni zoomed past.
“Too important, sorry!” She yelled back as she grabbed the door handle and pushed the door open.
In the room was a single figure in a dapper red suit, something you might wear to the opera, standing tall and prominently with his arms behind his back. He was standing next to a large TV at the end of the room speaking to a group of people on a video call.
The chatter stopped and all eyes landed on Pomni. She gulped loudly.
“Director Caine?” One of the voices said in a judging tone. “Why is your door not locked during a top secret, highly classified meeting?”
“General, my door is never locked. It’s a sign of a good boss, always being available for my people when they need me.” The screen was silent with shock. “Now, while I handle this, you can tell the president to drop this ridiculous Greenland thing and maybe I’ll turn the lights back on at the CIA.”
The general opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Caine turning off the TV. He then turned back to Pomni, casually sauntering over to her. He walked past her and hit a button next to the light switch. The windows began to un-tint and natural light poured back into the room. The view of Washington D.C. was incredible from here.
The director’s secretary caught up to them out of breath. “So sorry, sir, she just ran right through-“
“Uh-uh-uh, no apologies necessary. Give me a few minutes to sort this out,” he cut her off while gently shutting the door. “That was a lie, you know.”
“Uh- what- wait are you gonna fire her because of me? Because I-“ Pomni panicked.
“Oh, her, god no, I couldn’t get through a day without her. I meant the door thing,” he said making a gesture toward the TV. “While I do believe in being available when I’m needed, classified meetings of this level are usually exempt from that rule. I- uh- kinda just forgot?” He admitted with a chuckle.
Pomni felt a slight wave of relief, but she still knew she was likely in deep shit.
“Now, Pomni, how about you tell me what’s important enough to interrupt a meeting with the higher ups of the United States Government?”
“Uh, Director Caine, sir… I’ve found something. It can’t wait and it’ll probably take too long to explain. Could we go back to my desk?”
“No.”
“Oh, uh-“
“We’ll go to my office. If it’s really this important, then a little privacy couldn’t hurt. We can pull your work up on my computer.”
Pomni nodded shakily and followed him out of the conference room.
“Jenny?” He said walking by his secretary’s desk in front of his office. “Let the good general know we’ll have to reschedule the rest of our meeting. Something’s come up.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied picking up the landline phone at her desk.
“After you, my dear,” Caine said holding the door open with a fancy bow.
She walked in and heard the door close behind her, followed by the click of a lock.
“Shall we?” Caine said gesturing toward his console.
Pomni walked over to Caine’s desk as he trailed behind. Everything in his office was pristine. No sign of even a spec of dust or grime on anything. Everything looked like it was exactly where it was supposed to be. There were no awkward angles, no objects that didn’t fit the theme. It was a perfect mix of old fashioned and modern, classic tech and the new stuff. There was even a computer that looked like it was from the 80’s in a glass display case. Along with another great view of D.C., of course.
She sat down in Caine’s surprisingly comfortable chair and tapped the space button on his keyboard. It, predictably, asked for login credentials. She looked up at him standing slightly behind her and to the right.
“Oh, of course,” he said as he placed his palm on the desk. It was then that Pomni realized that she wouldn’t be logging into some regular, granted high tech, PC. In fact, the desk itself seemed to come to life as a touch screen. Holograms began popping up from it, including one of a certain familiar bubble.
“Pomni, I said I would contact the director. What the hell are you doing here!?” Bubble questioned.
“Why do you swear now!? I didn’t program that!” Caine said panicky.
“I- uhhh… didn’t see ya there, boss.”
“Ahem!” Pomni interjected. “We have bigger things to worry about than Bubble’s colorful language.”
“Right, yes, of course,” Caine said straightening his bow tie. “To access your work, you just have to- oh, you already did it. Umm… good work?”
“It started with this offshore bank account. It serves some of our operatives in South America. It had a little over three million dollars in it, until it was completely drained within a week.”
“Drained? That’s impossible, I check the financial database every day, it should have notified me.”
“That was my first thought too, Director, but I decided to dig a little deeper with a series of basic antivirus scans,” she pulled up her findings and enlarged them. “It found numerous sets of extra code that shouldn’t have been there, including subroutines designed to interfere with the alert system and Bubble’s diagnostics. Almost all our accounts dedicated to agents and operations in unallied countries have been compromised. Funds have been transferred, withdrawn, to and from our accounts going back months.”
She looked up at his growingly concerned expression.
“Sir… we’ve been breached. And this is just financials. Even then, it’s only the accounts I scanned. It’s almost impossible to tell how far the breach has spread.”
Caine stared at the screen and the surrounding holograms. Without saying anything, he put his palm back on the desk and pulled it back up, fingers coming together as if grabbing something. A keypad floated up close behind. He glanced at Pomni.
“Normally I’d make you look away…” he said contemplating. “But right now, you’re one of the only ones I know I can trust.”
He input a sequence of numbers with almost inhuman efficiency. The keypad hologram turned red with a warning symbol.
Are you sure? Caine hesitated. He let out a sigh.
“No, not yet,” he said to himself swiping the keypad away. He looked back at Pomni, who was visually confused. He stared at her intensely, before pulling up a holographic keyboard and what looked like a list of contacts and call signs. Team designations. He tapped one and did a series of hand motions that only he seemed to understand. The description next to this particular team changed from “deployed, mission accomplished” to “recalled, forthwith.”
Pomni read the team designation: “CIRCUS.”
“Back to your desk, Pomni.”
“Sir-“
“Dig as deep as you can until I come get you. I want to know every minuscule detail about every transaction, every bank account, everything. You have a number of contacts, yes? Informants?” He said as he began pacing.
“Yes, sir, but-“
“Set up meetings with them. All of them. In person. Prioritize the ones in the finance sector, but nevertheless meet all of them. No matter how unrelated they may seem.”
“Sir, I was a field analyst for less than a year! Most of my contacts before and since then were made online or via field agents. How am I supposed to get them to meet me if we’ve never met in the first place?”
Caine stopped pacing and turned toward her.
“Pomni. I know I’m a great boss and all…” he said walking closer. “After all, I am quite charming and hilarious.” He added. “But…” he began as he arrived behind her sitting in his chair. He put one finger on the back of the chair and spun it around to face him.
He leaned in with his hands on both armrests, essentially trapping her in the chair.
“… Do. Not. Mistake that as an invitation to question my orders,” he said in a firm, almost threatening tone.
“O-of course not, s-sir,” Pomni managed to sheepishly squeeze out.
Caine stood up straight, clearing his throat and adjusting his bow tie once more.
“Now then. Since the uncomfortable part is out of the way, you should know by now that I trust your abilities, especially to think outside the box. I did get you that promotion a year ago after all. You’ll be able to figure it out,” he said gesturing for her to get out of his chair.
“Y-yes, sir,” she said as she hurriedly popped up from the chair. She began to walk towards the door when she hesitated. “Wait, that was true? You got me my promotion?” She said rounding the front of the desk.
Caine sat down and leaned back in his chair, legs resting on the now regular desk. “Of course, my dear! You have untapped potential that would have been strangled to death down on ‘the floor’!”
“T-thank you, sir?” She responded, a little flabbergasted.
“Now off you go, chop-chop. I’ll be over to get you innnnn…” he glanced up at a line of clocks above the doorframe, each labeled with a different time zone around the world. “… five point seven hours. I have a team coming to help you.”
“Yes, sir.” She began to walk towards the door once more. She opened it and was halfway through when-
“Oh, Pomni?”
“Yes, sir?”
“You’re up to date on your weapons certifications, correct?”
“Yes… sir?”
“Excellent. Good hunting, Agent Pomni.”
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