In which Eric pretends to be furniture. Nobody does cold indignation better than Spears.
Eric stood at parade rest at the back of the room, listening as a group of Higher Ups plotted revenge. It was educational.
Nobody did cold indignation better than Spears. His cover letter accused an unknown angel of everything from Misappropriation of Office Supplies (Letterhead) to Improper Relations With Non-Celestial Beings, with emphasis on Intent To Impede Or Influence A Reaper's Performance Of His Duty, as defined By Divine Law 10452-3, subsection C, paragraphs 1 through 5. Spears' logic was faultless, the evidence compelling. He had even enclosed a list of impending Reaps which might be connected to this disgraceful situation.
Spears needed to be warned he was in danger of having his promotion freeze overturned.
Protocol required that they let the Entities police themselves. The recipient of their protest was currently being chosen. Which high-ranking Entity would be most likely to move quickly on this? Who would be least willing to explain to the Highest if delay caused a Reaper to be injured or slain? Whose authority had been most flouted? Whose tolerance for malfeasance was lowest, whose wells of mercy the shallowest, whose staff of Enforcers the most fearsome?
The decision was made, an address written. Additional letters of protest were added to the packet. Official signatures, stamps and seals added weight and urgency. A Messenger was summoned from the Divine Realm. The packet, a ticking time bomb, was handed over with requests for the utmost speed. The Messenger departed.
Eric kept his face absolutely blank as the spotlight of attention turned on him. Obviously they wanted the whole debate reported back to Spears, off the record. The Higher Ups instructed him to wait while they penned a response to his superior. He was sent to an anteroom where an assistant offered him tea. He accepted, using his poshest English accent.
The Forgiveness was a lie. Alan was safe. Nothing else mattered.
Eric returned to the office, bearing an envelope for Spears. He found the man inside Meeting Room A, with Alan, Jacobs and Fairbairn. Alan, a hornet between two mastiffs, had that grim look that meant he was controlling his temper. He'd probably been told he couldn't go angel hunting.
Eric presented the envelope. Spears took it and motioned Eric back to the privacy of his office. He sat at his desk, read the missive, then looked up.
"Slingby. Report."
Eric reported, careful to omit no fact and offer no opinion. Spears waved Eric to a chair, then reread the letter. He sat back and thought. Eric waited patiently in the lengthy silence. Spears was planning for several eventualities. He was very good at it. Some scenarios might involve Eric getting a bit of revenge on an angel.
Finally Spears looked up, fixing Eric with a stern eye.
"Slingby, take Humphries and go home. This location is too well known for safety. I believe the Divine Realm may ask to borrow Humphries to bait a trap tomorrow. I will be unable to prevent that, as the decision will be made at a much higher level. I can, however, arrange certain protections."
"Sir..."
"Quiet, Slingby. Remember that the angel needs Humphries alive. Indeed, his superiors may request that Humphries do as he asks. We can only extend a mortal life, not grant immortality, and the end result is the same. If you cannot promise not to interfere, I will confine you until all is done."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I will do nothing to upset the trap."
"Wrong. You will take no action whatsoever, start to finish, unless I expressly command it. Agreed?"
Damn. Spears knew him too well. "Agreed. Sir."
"And Slingby? You will remain in strict, complete, unadorned uniform until this is over."
Sigh. "Yes, sir."