Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Such a pity...
I know where he is… I just…can't reach him. Or stop him…"
He sits in his darkened sanctuary, waiting. Waiting for that word that someone else has done what he cannot…stop an ex-CIA operative from morphing into a former, deadly persona…
This is unfortunately nothing like past situations where he's been forced to rely on others to perform a task he can no long accomplish himself. No, this has nothing to do with being physically 'challenged'. If only it did; then he would rent some muscle and get the job done.
He is faced with the indisputable fact that having resurrected and hired a well trained, expert assassin as an employee…that employee is now no longer under his command or control but is instead being driven by some inner demons toward an end that can only spell catastrophe. Demons released with the advent of their latest number…
And nothing he can say or do has made any difference in the events unfolding while he sits and waits.
He keeps himself busy, reworking code, deleting outdated files, researching…trying desperately to compartmentalize his attention. But it's hopeless; his worries bleed over into every process and make focusing an impossible task.
And if there was ever a good excuse for a strong drink, certainly now is the time!
But he keeps no alcohol in the library for good reasons. For one, pain meds and alcohol make a deadly combo; and two, while his employ-partner has never given any sign of falling off the wagon, surely it is best to keep temptation at a minimum.
As it is, he's never quite understood how one so sodden was able to emerge from an alcoholic haze in such a relatively short period of time.
One mystery in regards to his employee that he hasn't been able to uncover.
Anxiety is in control now, causing his thoughts to create a modern mosaic, switching through past images and events in no particular order.
"Mr. Reese? What exactly is your plan…?"
He has mounds of research on the ex-agent. In addition to a comprehensive history, it reveals an individual living on the streets for months, and when too drunk to remain upright, crashing in one of the many homeless camps that currently dot the city landscape. The same research exposes some surprising character facets once camouflaged in filthy rags and the obtrusive effects of alcohol. An above average intelligence, quick problem solving abilities, and a strong, dominantly forceful personality…in short, an individual formatted and perfectly designed for forging into a lethal weapon.
Not surprising, those stalwart qualities could well be the reason the ex-op was able to quit his destructive drinking pretty much cold-turkey.
Not surprising, but also terrifying... For those same traits are now facilitating his pursuit. A pursuit that is ordained to end badly.
"I think under the circumstances it might be a good idea to bring the police in on this one…"
He's never regretted his choice of individual for the "wet" work necessary to resolve mysteries surrounding the Numbers. The skill set the ex-op brings to the table is unique, along with an exceptional ability to succeed at the tasks assigned. And while there have been differences of opinion on how the jobs were to be completed, there was only one time when he was truly frightened of his employee.
He can excuse that personal assault in the hotel in part as a result of what was bound to be a crushing hangover, and then further provoked by a discussion about the deceased girl friend. Not since has there been a hint of violence…at least not directed toward him.
Tentacles of fear licking down his spine are reminiscent of that day in the hotel though. But in truth, it is not fear for himself, or even that his employee will get caught. No, that won't happen. The ex-agent is far too skillful to be netted by domestic police; it will take more than a few dog catchers to trap a wolf!
The real fear is that after a long, painful journey out of the shadows, the ex-op will relapse and become once more the cold-stone killer the CIA trained…and so valued.
"I feared with this case you had certain sensitivities; I thought it best to let you sit it out."
The plan to keep this particular Number to himself has failed spectacularly. Now it is playing out exactly as he feared it would. So who was he really protecting by excluding his associate…himself, so that he could continue to have skilled assistance in this obsession to help those on his irrelevant list? Or the person whom he has started to view no longer as a mere employee, but as a true partner… maybe a friend?
He knows everything about the ex-agent. Empirical data such as height, weight, hair and eye color, blood type…a DNA report. Teeth pulled, bones set, inoculations. And details mined from dozens of redacted documents: missions completed, targets extracted, sensitive data retrieved, individuals…eliminated. He knows how all the wounds were inflicted, where every bodily scar is located.
But he knows other things not documented by the government. That his employee is left-hand dominant but ambidextrous when handling fire arms. That he prefers coffee over tea; is insatiable in his curiosity; has a wicked sense of humor, and unexpected integrity. The latter somewhat surprising under the circumstances, as the CIA encourages a certain 'moral flexibility' in its agents.
And lately he knows something else: the ex-op is a fierce protector of women and children in particular. His employee has turned out to be a valued asset.
Asset…
An interesting euphemism for this wolf gone off the chain - currently focused on tracking down a quarry while authorities all over cast their nets. When his wolf finds his prey, as he will…what then? Unfortunately the answer seems all too clear.
"Knowing is not always a blessing, detective."
But he's done all he can in sending the one person after his employee who might have a chance of reaching the ex-op and defuse this dangerous situation. He prays she will be successful. That she can leash the demons.
He sits and stares at the mute phone. Agonizes and waits.
And hopes his off the chain wolf finds a way out of the dark…back home.