Diana had arranged for 47 to be examined at the Facility a week later. No actual human interaction was necessary, in some ways, this mirrored the Vetting Room within the Polygon laboratory. Similar to an MRI, the assassin enters and awaits for a body-penetrating ray to rapidly examine him from head to toe. State-of-the-art technology. It logged everything from temperature to hormone levels.
"Are you ready, 47?"
She inquired through his earpiece. He nods his head lightly, before also giving a verbal response of "yes". His steely blue eyes facing forward. The glass panels were heavily tinted. This was a safety measure for the two men on the other side, protecting their identities. There were several mole issues in the past, and even though they knew and worked alongside the assassin for nearly as long as Diana, precaution was still necessary.
A machine guided red laser, made short order of physically assessing the agent. They needed their assassins to be in peak physical condition. So any sort of malady, even a minor cough, wasn't taken lightly. His results would then be handed to him personally by a standby nurse. Donning a stark white hazmat suit, paper mask, and thick industrial goggles. All that could be seen were her eyes, and even then, they were fairly obscured. You couldn't even tell the color of the irises unless you were looking intently.
"Here you are, sir"
She spoke, almost timidly. Whilst handing the agent his results. He didn't have to be skilled in the medical field to understand their findings. There was a basic, simplified preface. He gently takes the file from her gloved hand, with a nod and soft "Thank You", his eyes begin scanning the printed lines. The whirling of fans overhead as they attempt to offset some of the heat given off by the light.
The assassin's eyes widen as he reached a section concerning the presence of elevated hCG. Beside the findings, in brackets, were "The scan revealed Patient 640509-040147, displaying high levels of the hormone, hCG. Further testing also revealed heightened levels of testosterone. The ICA can confirm, with these findings, that 640509-040147 is pregnant"
He damn near forgot to breathe, as his focus always came back to that one word. "It can't be", he muttered to himself. There had to be a mistake, problem was, the diagnostic laser was never wrong. It felt as though all the air had evacuated his body, rather at a loss for words. All he could do was remain standing there, awkwardly.
"47. What's the diagnosis?"
He hears Diana's anxiety-tinged voice break over his earpiece. He gives a heavy sigh, finally tucking the file under his arm and leaving the bizarre, rather futuristic-like room. Making sure he is out of earshot for other members of ICA to possible eavesdrop. Lightly brushing the piece with his fingertips, he sighs deeply once more.
"I'm..pregnant"
He finally responded. The mounting fear and anxiety smothering him. Feeling the air rushing from his lungs, there was no telling how Diana would react. But one thing was for certain, it wasn't going to be with warm wishes and general high praise. She was the mother, his handler. If word got out of the baby's maternal ties, both risked instant termination. The ICA was very by-the-books, when it came to agent/handler relationships. Under no circumstances, ever, were their professional lives cross the line into personal.
"Yo..you must be joking"
Her tone was truly flabbergasted, knowing exactly what that would spell concerning their future with the ICA. He would be sidelined in the latter stages. Any assassin worth his weight in salt would tell you. It isn't a business for anyone looking to start a family, be that, accidental or planned. He hears an exasperated sigh over his earpiece.
"We'll arrange for the Facility to schedule a termination. We can't risk this info spreading, we'll be blacklis-"
"- That's all you care about is appearances, isn't it?"
He cut her off with a somewhat hurt, bitter tone. The conception may have been accidental, but the love for his newly discovered child, wasn't. She just couldn't understand, her drive to find The Constant overpowered everything that surrounded her. That her own flesh and blood took a backseat to her driven, personal act of terminal justice. This time, her sigh was one of disappointment and frustration.
"Be it on your own, barcoded head, 47. Just know, The ICA will begin the process of putting you on an indeterminable leave"
She was rather taken aback. For the next thing to leave the agent's lips was a soft chuckle.
"This' a personal file, Diana. Even The ICA wouldn't be so foolish as to divulge personal details of their top assassins. Pregnant or not, I'm an asset. They force me on leave, then say goodbye to ever finding The Constant..and the truth"