Vlad sighed, placing his coffee down on the table as he reviewed the illustration before him. An empty clip sat on the upper right hand corner, and the tip of his pencil tapped along the bottom line of a block of text scribbled beneath the weapon diagram.
He set the pencil down, leaning back in his chair to rub his eyes, strained from the intense focus he had spent on the paper for the last hour or so. He looked up to the ceiling and stared at a blank spot, giving his eyes a chance to rest. He looked back down, landing on a caption hastily scratched into the margins of a piece he needed to cross-reference in his other notes.
Fenton (978-14197-60556).
"You're mad at Maddie, aren't you?"
He closed his eyes and swiveled away from the desk, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and stare at the floor. Two days had managed to pass without the words crossing his mind. Only two days of respite.
A heavy breath escaped him before he could catch it, setting him on edge again. Funnily enough, the distance between then and now gave him the opportunity to reflect on the absurdity of Harriet's observation. Because it was absurd. How she had managed to draw such a laughably wild conclusion was beyond him. It was ridiculous. Nonsensical.
"But Maddie was supposed to check, wasn't she? Wasn't that why she was there?"
He gripped his knee.
The study was quiet. Overbearingly so.
Vlad huffed, standing up to walk over to the door, only making it halfway across the room when the ring of the phone cut through the silence, jolting him out of his irritation. He glanced back, hesitating before his curiosity got the better of him and he spun around to grab the phone from its stand. The screen glowed green and displayed a number on the third ring, switching to a screen that displayed the full ID on the fourth.
Chin, Harriet. Elmerton.
Unbelievable.
He sighed again, internally weighing how much patience he had left in him as he stared at the screen. On the sixth ring he pressed the green button.
"…Hello?" he started.
A beat passed.
"Hey," he heard Harriet come through from the other end. Silence again.
"Harriet. …Hi," was all he could reply, eyeing the clock on his bookshelf, raising an eyebrow at the hour. He had to make dinner soon.
"Sorry, I uh… I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said. Something in her tone sounded restrained.
"Ah, no, not at all," he said. "…Did something happen?"
"Oh, no," she answered quickly. She cleared her throat. "I'm just… I'm coming close to wrapping up with the story soon. I should have it to my editor by this weekend."
He paused, expecting more. She didn't give any.
"That's great," he offered as a reply. "Did you need anything else from me?"
"Um… no, not really. Just thought I'd let you know."
Silence.
"Well," he started again. "I appreciate that."
"Yeah, no problem."
Another beat. Vlad tensed.
"I, uh, I wanted to check in with you," she added suddenly. "See how you were doing."
He froze. All at once the question seemed to knock the tension out of him.
"Oh," he muttered, fumbling for the rest of the sentence. "I'm… good. I'm good."
"Ok. Well, good."
"…Can I ask why?"
"…I mean. Last time I saw you you seemed a little. Rattled."
Vlad huffed. "That seems a bit strong."
"If you insist," she replied, a hum seeping into her tone. The corner of his lip pulled up.
"I'm fine, Harriet. Everything's fine."
"Awesome. Cool," she said, still noticeably more reserved than he was used to, but at the very least she sounded somewhat pacified. "I was… worried I had kind of set something off that day."
Vlad paused.
"I didn't mean to make things weird," she continued. He chuckled, catching himself, but unsure if she had already heard.
"Trust me, they were weird long before you came around," he said, angling to sit on the desk. He heard her exhale on the other end.
"Well, yeah. I figured. But you know what I meant," she said. Her words rolled through more naturally now, and the sense that they were being relayed through a smile was not lost on him.
"Of course."
Another lull.
"So," Vlad started again, looking around the room. "Was that all?"
"Yeah, pretty much," she answered softly. "We don't have to talk about it."
"Well, I mean," Vlad interjected before he could stop himself, "it's not that serious. It's… just personal things."
Why was he saying this?
"Right," she responded after an awkward beat. "Did… you want to talk about it?"
Vlad's jaw tensed. Did he?
"Maybe not right now," he clarified flatly. "I'm a bit busy, is all."
"No doubt."
He tapped on the table with his free hand.
"Are you?" he inquired.
"You mean, right now? Yeah, I'm kind of working…"
"Just in general. I have a meeting with the Axion board this Friday. But… the evening is open."
She was silent.
"Vlad," she said in a hushed tone, "you do know that… the story's basically done, right? I can't really add anything else to it now."
"I know."
Another silence.
"Um… I'm pretty swamped this week."
One of his shoulders dropped. "Right. Well. That makes sense…"
"But I'd be free after six," she rushed in suddenly. "On Friday."
Vlad straightened.
"…Great," he sputtered, clearing his throat. "Great."
"Did you have a place in mind?"
"Well… actually, no," he admitted, gripping his knee. He thought he heard her chortle.
"Alright, so we can play it by ear when I get there."
He smiled. "Sounds like a plan."
"Totally. I still owe you for the last time."
It was Vlad's turn to scoff. "No offense, but with the kind of place I had in mind, I don't think you can afford to take that hit."
"Wow," she retorted, the familiar bite in her tone returning.
"Harriet, it's fine. I'll take care of it."
"Tempting. Then again, every time you give me free food I meet a new ghost, so..."
"One could argue that's a win-win."
"Yeah, well," she replied, clicking her tongue between words, "it depends on who you're asking."
He laughed. "I suppose so."
He heard her chuckle lightly again.
"Great. So, Friday," she repeated for confirmation.
"Friday," he confirmed. "And… Harriet?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
He heard a soft exhale.
"No problem," her voice came through warmly. "See you then."
He waited, counting the seconds before the beep of the call ending sounded.
An envelope slipped out of her grasp, provoking an irritated sigh as she bent down to grab it from the wet sidewalk. Harriet flipped it over, stepping out of the way as another building resident barreled past her to enter the apartment complex. A damp spot smudged the text on the front, smearing Connie's name and address.
At least it's junk mail, Harriet assured herself as she walked down the sidewalk to her parking spot. She fumbled past Connie's mailbox key on her key ring to unlock her car door, throwing herself into the driver's seat and tossing the mail onto the passenger seat, followed by her purse; the force, however, sent the contents flying out of the bag and scattered them on the seat and floor.
She exhaled more forcefully. Why did moving so quickly always seem to slow her down?
She leaned over to clumsily gather the assortment of pens, notes, candy wrappers, receipts and cosmetics. As she pulled everything into a small pile, her hand brushed a flyer out of the way, revealing a small black cartridge. She froze.
The sun was almost completely down outside, giving her just enough light to make out a small marking on the bottom. She timidly picked the piece up, turning it around to get a clearer look at the engraving; an etching of the Axion logo.
She furrowed her brow, rotating it to look for any other distinguishing markings; on the narrow back end she saw indentations too small to see in the quickly dwindling daylight.
Harriet reached up to the roof-mounted rearview mirror, flipping it down to turn on the overhead light. She brought the piece up to study the markings, making out a string of numbers.
She leaned back in her seat. Why would Damon give this to her?
Glancing up at her reflection in the mirror, Harriet gripped the magazine with both hands. The clock on the radio read 6:32. Would Vlad have something to tell her if she showed him? Was she supposed to show him?
She squeezed her eyes shut, reaching over to the bag and yanking it upright to toss the cartridge in the main compartment, hastily shoving the mail and the rest of the spilled contents in on top of it, save for one stray lipstick that she grabbed from the seat.
She turned back to the mirror and lifted the cap off of the tube, trying to funnel all of her focus into steadily applying the berry shade evenly. She pressed her lips together, studying her reflection for any other areas she needed to touch up.
Almost imperceptibly, something moved.
Harriet paused, staring at the mirror. She blinked, uncertain if she had really seen what she thought. She looked at herself, sitting deathly still and wondering if she had just shifted by accident, creating some sort of illusion.
The reflection moved again, but she was the only still image; the car parked behind her appeared to rock from side to side, with increasing intensity.
As the motion grew more erratic she could see the body of the car begin to glow a sickly green color; without warning, it slid sideways into the street, ripping Harriet's gaze from the mirror to her passenger side window to watch it crash into a van parked on the other side of the road.
The glowing car continued to tremble violently, and as Harriet continued watching she noticed the aura begin to distort over the roof. A pale figure stretched up from the car, condensing into the frame of a behemoth of a man, or rather, something man-like; the blinding white of his 'skin' and suit were offset by only the black of his fedora, gloves and boots. He was massive, but seemed crouched forward towards something he was grabbing at his feet, under the hood by the engine.
Moments later another shape emerged, pulled up by the white specter; the second figure shifted into form, but still seemed relatively amorphous, its serpentine build bearing only two arms for limbs. The car's glow disappeared.
The first ghost heaved the second to the ground with terrifying force, jumping down to slam the heel of his boot on the creature's back. Harriet recoiled, pushing herself up against the driver side door.
The first ghost drew something from his belt, throwing it on the ground above the serpent's head. It was too far away to make out, but Harriet could see a light flash from the object before the white ghost vanished. Suddenly a beam of green light erupted from the circular tool on the ground, inducing a whirlwind in the middle of the street. The creature shrieked, struggling to slither away from the pod, but becoming easily overpowered by the vortex as it was sucked in through the portal. As quickly as it had begun, the spectacle was over; the dirt and scraps of metal from the car crash settled back onto the street as if nothing had happened.
Harriet realized she was panting and rigidly gripping the dashboard. She looked around in alarm, alert for a sign of the white ghost. Moments passed.
An apparition flashed into view on the street; there he stood, dwarfing the car in comparison. She watched him lean down to grab the pod from the ground, pausing to glance up.
He looked at her.
Harriet's blood turned to ice.
The ghost pulled up to his terrifying full height, studying her intently from afar, the striking hollows of his scowling face setting off every alarm in her head. She snapped out of her terror just long enough to grab her keys and attempt to shove them into the ignition, with little success. She looked back up out of the window, shaking as the ghost approached the car and had to nearly fold halfway over to look at her.
"I told you to keep one eye open," he growled, the bass in his voice piercing through and rattling the glass. In between shuddered gasps Harriet tried to think of a response to his statement.
"I… I don't… I don't know who you are," she stammered. The ghost cocked his head, the light of his eyes coming what feel dangerously close to boring through the window, casting the rest of his face in unsettling shadow.
"A friend," he answered.
Without warning he stood up and back and immediately floated up into the air. Harriet dipped forward, craning her neck to keep him in view past the car roof. Quickly, he darted down the street, smoothing into a white blur before coming to a pause at the intersection. Despite her better instincts, Harriet kept her eyes fixed on him, and saw him turn around briefly to meet her gaze again.
He flew off, following the road away from the city. Harriet hesitated. That voice… she knew she had heard it before.
She put the key in the ignition, gripping the wheel as the engine of her car sputtered to life, weighing her next move. She didn't know exactly how Vlad felt about waiting.
But he would just have to wait.
She pulled out into the street, speeding off after the ghost's trail.
"Needless to say, the situation is starting to feel a little dire."
Vlad leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. After an hour and a half of entertaining the elder vice chairman's incessant droning, he tried to restrain a sigh at his backhanded comment.
"It's unfortunate, yes, but ultimately not our responsibility, Murnau," Vlad replied, resting one hand on the table. "We're doing the best we can with what's available right now."
"Your 'best' isn't good enough, Masters," Murnau countered, pressing a button on a remote, clicking through a series of screen grabs from TV and clippings from newspapers on the flatscreen at the head of the boardroom. Each headline referenced a different event involving ghostly instigation.
"This is in the last two weeks alone and it's only getting worse. Do you know how this reflects on the company?" Murnau said, drawing a handkerchief from his suit and patting along his forehead.
"How does it reflect on Axion?" Vlad jabbed back. "You're certainly not implying we're to blame for any of this, I hope."
"It doesn't matter who's to blame!" Murnau exploded, slamming the remote on the table, causing many of the other board members present to flinch. "When you brand as a research facility for paranormal securities and no one feels secure from the paranormal, where do you think that leaves us in the court of public opinion? The shareholder annual is sneaking up on us next month and we have nothing to show for it. What do you think that's going to do for their confidence?"
Vlad blinked. "Are you done?"
He stood up and walked over to the monitor as Murnau bristled.
"This…" Vlad said, gesturing to the headline displayed, "is nothing but a media circus. This is what happens when you give in to panic."
He stepped towards the table to face the group that flanked him on both sides, Murnau silently fuming to his left.
"The trials are going exactly at the rate they should be. To put pressure on those involved to speed things up for the sake of optics would be doing a disservice to both them and the people we claim to be trying to help," Vlad continued calmly, until interrupted by a buzzing from his pocket.
"Is there anything you have to show for all of this so far?" Murnau prodded, frowning as Vlad took his phone out. The screen displayed one unread message notification from Harriet.
Vlad looked up, glancing between the members present. He returned his attention to Murnau.
"Let me ask you this," he replied, moving his phone out of sight behind his back, "is there a dissatisfied client you can show me?"
He watched as the vice chairman seethed.
"No."
Vlad smiled.
"Then perhaps there is a method to the madness, don't you think?" he taunted.
"I think you've gotten lucky with the excuses so far," Murnau growled. "You can only string everybody along for so long."
"So dramatic," Vlad sighed, standing up and pulling his phone in front of him again. "In any case, I believe we've just about wasted enough of everyone's time tonight."
He tapped the table with his free hand.
"Have a nice weekend, everybody."
Harriet turned the engine off. She sat in a darkened corner of the parking lot, her eyes fixed on the building her pursuit of the ghost had brought her all the way to on the edge of town, near the shipyards. The massive white panels of the warehouse towered overhead, with no printed identifiers to be seen.
She leaned forward to view the top stories where the ghost had last been seen entering, picking up on only the faintest of glows from the upper level emergency lights.
She had been straining so hard to make out any detail that the buzz of her phone almost sent her flying through the car roof. Harriet leaned back into the seat, exhaling in irritation before she grabbed her phone from the cupholder, reading Vlad's name on the screen. She hit the green button.
"Vlad?"
"Harriet, what's going on? I got your message," Vlad's voice came in hurriedly through the receiver.
"Nothing," Harriet said. She raced through all her possible options for a believable explanation. "I just got a little sidetracked, like I said."
"How sidetracked?"
"Uh… well, if you don't mind hanging around the office for… maybe an hour?"
"Harriet, where are you?"
She sighed.
"I'm at the shipyard."
"The Elmerton yard?"
"Yeah."
"Why are you at the shipyard?" Vlad pressed her, clearly irritated.
"I saw something in the car. It came all the way here."
"You followed it?"
The ghost's pallid face flashed in Harriet's vision. The way it had looked at her.
"I wanted to see where it was going."
"Harriet, are you alone out there?"
"Vlad, I'm fine. I won't be long."
"You're alone. I'm sending someone over."
"You don't have to send anyone. You're overreacting."
"Clearly one of us has to!"
"Vlad, do NOT…"
"He'll be there in twenty minutes."
"Who'll be…?"
The call dropped. Harriet hissed, pulling the phone away to view the blinking 'call ended' screen. She rolled her eyes, shutting the phone down and throwing it into her purse along with her keys. She opened the car door, set one foot on the ground to step out of the car, and paused to look up at the upper level of the warehouse. From her side there was no visible way to the top.
She shut the car door and readjusted her purse strap before walking to the back end of the lot to get a better view of the back of the building. Slowly, she thought she could see the railing of a fire escape. No stairs to the upper platform were visible; it must have wrapped around the other side.
She sighed. The gates to the parking lot were in the opposite direction she had just walked, and that meant she would have to go all the way around to the opposite side of the building see where the fire escape started.
And by Vlad's indication, she was working on limited time.
Harriet paced as quickly as her heels would allow her to the parking lot entrance, and then across the front of the building, where she looked up to see if there were any other distinguishing marks or numbers. Nothing.
She continued on, making her way past the first corner to see something fixed to the side of the building, opposite to the one facing the parking lot. The light from the streetlamps only barely illuminated the bottom of the staircase to the fire escape all the way at the end.
She moved quickly, approaching the base of the stairs to see a chain hanging from the handrails, blocking entry. She pulled it up, ducking awkwardly to avoid letting it touch her as she moved under to get her foot on the stairs. She let it drop once she could stand on the staircase, and made her ascent, watching the steps to avoid putting her heel through the grates and gripping the handrails tightly.
She climbed up to the walkway and reached a row of windows. She darted towards one, straining to make out anything from the inside through the dirt crusted on the pane, and the emergency lights doing little to illuminate anything of significance. All she could see were the outlines of crates stacked on top of palettes.
Harriet looked down the walkway, seeing where it wrapped around to the backside of the warehouse visible from the parking lot. She turned to follow it.
A sudden chill stopped her in place.
She whipped around, barely restraining a gasp as light seemed to pull together into the shape of a man behind her, briefly reminded of the ghost in white from the street. She stepped backwards, watching as the spirit materialized; his red eyes met her gaze as she held on to the railing.
"Oh," she said, her grip loosening as the ghost's cape billowed. "It's you."
His head tilted to the side.
"…Sorry," Harriet said, standing up straight. "You probably have a name."
Silence.
"Would have been nice if Vlad told me what it is," she added, mostly to herself, glancing off briefly to the side as the spirit turned to the window.
"Look," she started, pressing her hands together. "Whatever Vlad told you, I'm sure he meant well, but this is really something I can handle on my own. You don't need to get involved."
The ghost seemed to ignore her. Harriet frowned.
"Excuse me? I'm talking to you," she interjected more forcefully, leaning forward into his peripheral vision. "You can go home. Or, wherever else you live. …Don't live. I don't know."
The ghost raised an eyebrow. Harriet sighed.
"Whatever. I saw it go in here," Harriet said, moving to stand with him. She looked up at him for a reaction, only seeing him study the interior intently. Suddenly the ghost pulled back to face her. He extended one talon-tipped finger and pointed at himself, then upwards in a grand circular gesture.
"…you're… gonna go check it out?" Harriet guessed.
"You do catch on quickly."
Harriet jumped at the voice behind her and turned to face a hulking silhouette hovering over the walkway. Green flames lapped up from his skull as he settled down on the path.
"Easy," he said, holding a hand up as she backed into the first ghost. "I'm with him."
Harriet turned to look at the first one. He nodded curtly. Her shoulders dropped steadily.
"Vlad sent you?" she asked the second ghost cautiously.
"Correct."
She exhaled in irritation. "Mister…?"
"Skulker."
She bit her tongue and struggled not to move her face.
"Right, got it," she answered as neutrally as she could. Her eyes darted back to her first companion. "My... pleasure. And this one?"
Skulker tilted his head, seemingly puzzled by her question. "Plasmius."
"Thanks," Harriet answered, standing up straight again. "Skulker, I'm sure Vlad spun some crazy yarn about me wandering around the docks all by myself, but there's really nothing to worry about. I've got my big girl pants on. I've seen way worse, believe me, so you and your friend here can go ahead and take the rest of the night off, tell Vlad everything went just fine, just a little hiccup on the way over…"
She stopped to observe an unamused-looking Skulker. Or maybe that was just the way his face was built.
Skulker looked past her to address the first spirit. "I've got her. You can go."
An indignant Harriet opened her mouth to object as Plasmius nodded, pressing forward and melting through the wall into the warehouse, prompting Harriet to step back towards the railing. She watched him float up on the other side and swivel his head to look around. He flew forward and down, investigating the crates closer to ground level. He darted off around a corner, out of her sight.
She heard a clicking noise to her right and turned to watch Skulker pop a panel open from his gauntlet. He held one finger down on a button below the screen.
"What's that?"
"Checking the perimeter for any traces of activity," he answered, focused on the screen embedded into his arm. "Give it a minute."
She waited with him in silence for an uncomfortable moment, tapping her foot on the metal walkway.
"So… you work for Vlad?"
She couldn't tell if he was glancing aside to look at her, but something seemed to shift in his eyes. "Yes, you could say that."
"Is that where you get all these wonderful toys?"
She heard him exhale through his nose. He gave no other answer.
"How long have you worked for him?" she continued.
"A few years."
She paused.
"Were you working for him at the reunion?" she asked. She definitely got the sense he was giving her side eye now.
"I was employed at the time, yes."
She nodded, glancing behind (or, rather, somewhat through) him to the edge of the fire escape that bent around the corner.
"And… he… pays you?" she continued.
"In a manner of speaking."
"Handsomely?"
"It's enough," Skulker replied, looking up to her with a steel gaze, in probably the most literal sense of the word she could think of. She took that as a signal her line of questioning had reached its end. Suddenly, a low-pitched beep emitted from his gauntlet. He looked back down.
"Looks like you were right," he said, walking over to the corner, his gaze trained on the screen. "Someone else was here."
She could hear the slow increase in pitch as he approached the corner the fire escape and sprinted to catch up with him. She stood close to him and glanced down, noticing the additional wing of the structure attached to the back of the warehouse below their feet; she brought her eyes back up, straining to catch a glimpse through the windows on her side, but she was blocked by Skulker at the wrong angle.
"Are you sure it isn't picking up on Plasmius?"
"He and I are already keyed in," Skulker explained, looking up through the window from where he stood. "It's ignoring us. Definitely detecting something else, though."
He studied the glass for a moment before snapping the panel on his arm shut.
"Let's go," he ordered, turning to face her. Harriet froze. She wouldn't be able to move past him to look into the back window; he was blocking the entire walkway.
"Wait," she said, covertly tucking her hand into her purse. "That's it?"
"We can check the ground floor," Skulker explained, stepping closer to her. She felt around in her bag, feeling her fingertips brush up against one of her pens. She looked over to one of the industrial vents sticking up from the roof of the lower wing. Maybe she could make it, but not as long as he was looking at her. She tried to keep calm, turning as if she was going with him.
"What about Plasmius?" she asked, looking around in feigned curiosity. She looked through the window, watching Skulker do the same. She lifted the pen from her bag and flicked it off of the fire escape as inconspicuously as she could.
"He'll be here some…" Skulker started, interrupted by the sudden bang of something hitting metal. They both looked at the vent.
"Stay here," Skulker said, turning back around. She heard a mechanical whir and saw a small barrel lift from his right forearm, accompanied by the pitched whine of the power switching on inside of it. He walked through the guard rail, hovering down to the vent. Harriet released her breath, stepping forward gingerly, inching forward to the corner of the walkway. She watched Skulker examine the fan below her, turning around to study the vent nearby.
She stepped quietly up to the back window, waiting for Skulker to walk behind the vent. Briefly out of his view, she stole a glance inside, seeing largely the same crates from before just at a different angle. Quickly she scanned the boxes stacked closer to her eye level; she noticed a faint paint job on the side, in the pattern of a capital A with electrons circling it.
She clenched her jaw and looked for any other markings, catching a number printed on one edge closer to her: 082-407.
She repeated the number to herself quietly, turning to see where Skulker was. She could see him observing the interior of the vent, the flames from his head lighting up the inside and giving him illumination to see all the way down. She walked back to the corner quickly, finding her footing just in time as he withdrew from the vent, turning to check on her, back in the same spot she was before. He shook his head, prompting her to nod in response. He floated back up through the bottom of the walkway, behind her again. The barrel in his arm collapsed back inside.
"Well, this should make a funny little story when I see Vlad," she joked. Skulker hummed.
"Good luck. I wouldn't say he's in the best humor right now," he responded dryly.
"Clearly. Considering he sent two babysitters after me," she said. Skulker snorted, his mouth twisting into an unsettling smile.
"I can see why he likes having you around," he added.
Harriet paused, tilting her head at his comment. She went to ask him something, cut off by Plasmius passing through the wall just then, back to where he had left them before. He shook his head.
"All clear. Let's get you out of here," Skulker said.
"Alright, just, give me a minute," Harriet remarked, reaching down to adjust the gel insert on the back of her heel. "These aren't exactly built for speed."
"He can help with that," Skulker said, gesturing at Plasmius. Harriet looked to him, then back to Skulker.
"Huh?" she uttered before she felt a cold arm brush against the back of her shoulder, causing her to jump. She whipped around, tensing as she noticed Plasmius standing startlingly close.
"Hold tight," Skulker warned her, vanishing into the air.
"Wh…?" she barely uttered, clenching onto the ghost's shoulder before she felt cold air pass through her. Briefly everything went dark; her stomach flew into her throat as she felt a sudden change in her elevation, a blur of crates and chain link fencing crowding her vision before she found herself standing on paved ground.
She shuddered, glancing around in the parking lot. She looked behind her, noticing her car just off to the side and Skulker standing beside it.
She looked back up to Plasmius, bristling at his uncanny grin. Realizing she was still gripping him, she pulled away and readjusted her purse strap.
"God… uh… I mean… thanks. I guess," she mumbled, digging around shakily for her keys. She drew them out, trembling as she attempted to shove them next to the handle. Eventually she got it in, unlocked the door and pulled it open; she felt a cold hand on her back again, turning to see Plasmius holding the door open for her. She paused, observing him.
He guided her into the driver's seat, stepping back and shutting the door for her. She rolled the window down as Skulker approached.
"Uh, thanks for the help," Harriet addressed them both, giving a weak thumbs-up. "I'll try and talk Vlad into a bonus for the two of you."
Skulker chortled. "That would be nice, wouldn't it?" he commented, glancing aside to a suddenly sour-looking Plasmius. Skulker leaned forward, placing a hand on the roof of the car, near the base of the antenna.
"Don't keep him waiting too long," he added, watching as she turned the car on.
"I think that ship's sailed," she responded, switching on the radio. "But thanks. Fly safe."
Skulker smiled again, tautly this time. He stood up to his full height, exchanging glances with Plasmius before they both faded into the air, leaving her alone in the car.
Harriet leaned back, quickly running through the events in her head. She remembered the crate number.
082-407. 082-407…
She dove into her bag, grabbing the cartridge and flipping it around to look at the number. She pulled the rearview mirror down again to turn the light on, straining to read the tiny lettering.
082-407.
Her jaw tightened. She sat back in her seat, staring out the front window. Heat rose in her cheeks.
She threw the magazine onto the passenger seat and put the car in drive.
Vlad paced in front of his desk, laser-focused on his cell phone screen. Four calls. Four calls Harriet had ignored. And he knew she was ignoring them; she was fine right after Skulker had bugged the car. So why wasn't she answering?
Just then the phone on his desk rang. Vlad turned around and snarled, grabbing it from the receiver.
"Yes?" he barked.
"Mr. Masters, someone says she's here to see you? A Ms. Chin?"
Vlad straightened. "Yes," he rushed, coughing to slow himself down. "Yes, please send her up."
The call ended and Vlad set the phone back down, quickly running his hand over his hair to smooth down any strays. He shoved his cell phone into his pocket and tried to straighten his suit jacket, not quite to his satisfaction, but he begrudgingly abandoned the attempt as he moved on to clear his desk of clutter.
As he set the last stack of papers aside he heard a knock on the office doors. He straightened his tie, turning briskly to walk over; he opened the doors to find Harriet standing in the hallway.
"Hey," was all she said. She offered a reticent smile. Vlad kept his expression as fixed as he could.
"Hello," he answered bluntly, stepping aside to let her enter, closing the door after her and spinning around to face her. "Harriet, what happened? Didn't you get my calls?"
She hesitated, incensed by his accusatory tone.
"Yeah, I saw. I was driving, sorry."
They stood in silence for an uncomfortable moment. He watched as Harriet's hand flew up to brush the hair off against the back of her neck, where it lingered just a second too long.
"Harriet, what's going on?" he demanded.
"What's your problem?" she snapped back. "I'm the one who should be asking what's going on around here. Since you're clearly so insistent on assigning me my own secret service."
"Well, I probably wouldn't have had to if you hadn't decided to speed off God knows where into the night."
"That's not the point. I don't need anyone to keep tabs on me."
"I was just trying to help."
"I'll ask next time."
"Next time?" Vlad said, incredulous. "What 'next time?' You're not thinking of going out there again?"
"And what if I am?"
"Harriet," Vlad said, holding his hands up as he collected himself. "What exactly is it that was so urgent that you found yourself out there?"
She gave him a look he couldn't quite describe before she walked over to his office desk and dumped the contents of her purse onto it: the pens, the notes, the mail, and finally, the cartridge. She pulled it from the pile.
"Can you tell me what this is?" she asked, holding it up to him. He squinted.
"Did you get that from there?"
"Answer my question."
He pursed his lips. "I don't know what it is."
"See, that strikes me as a little concerning," she said, waving it around in her hand as she spoke, "because there's boxes of it sitting in that warehouse. With your company logo on it."
Vlad was quiet, his expression unreadable. "And?"
Harriet narrowed her eyes. "That's your answer?"
"It's all I have because it's a bit difficult to follow your line of questioning, dear."
Harriet exhaled and rolled her eyes. "Look, forget about this. You couldn't just let me do what I had to do? You had to send your spooky little escort service after me?"
"You don't know what type of people could be walking around out there at night."
"I could be the type of people walking around there at night, Vlad!" she countered. "It's my job. I know this piece came from that warehouse. The question is, why did that… thing bring me there?" she demanded.
"I can't tell you, Harriet, because I have no idea what's going on."
"Look, spare me the 'babe-in-the-woods' act, alright?" she pressed him, placing her hands on her hips. "You think I didn't notice your little henchmen trying to shoo me out of there? And they're just as tight-lipped as you are, believe me. I can see why they're on your payroll."
Vlad pressed his lips together, staring darkly at her.
"What do you want me to say, Harriet? That you've stumbled onto some big secret? You've found your next 'scoop?'"
"Don't mock me."
"These are standard industry logistics, Harriet. No one in this business operates with total transparency. I don't know who led you there or what they wanted you to do."
Harriet stared back at him. He could see her eyebrows quiver as they furrowed more deeply.
"You really think I'm stupid," she said, her voice shaking as it sank.
"I don't, Harriet. That's why we work so well together. And someone has clearly come to realize that."
She looked down at the ground, her hold on the cartridge tightening. Vlad stepped towards her.
"Just put it down, Harriet," he urged her. "Let's just go to dinner and put this away for now."
She looked up to meet his eyes. He smiled.
"Not until you tell me the truth," she stated plainly, holding his gaze. He broke.
"There's nothing to tell, Harriet!" he exploded. "If you want to entertain baseless conspiracy theories, be my guest."
He turned around, pinching the bridge of his nose to collect himself. He turned to her, still fuming as he watched her expression harden. She exhaled in a half-hearted laugh, but barely smiled.
"You really had me going with the heart-on-sleeve stuff for a second, you know that?" she said, looking down and fiddling with the cartridge. "All the stuff you said at your house."
His face fell.
"You don't wanna pretend to tell me the truth, even? Just a little?" she said softly, almost taunting; but the plea was there. He glared.
"Harriet, this discussion is over."
She was silent.
"…I guess it is," she muttered. His jaw clenched.
"I think you should go," he said to her.
She looked at the ground again before she dropped the cartridge onto his desk and picked up her purse.
"So do I. Enjoy your dinner."
She straightened her bag as she walked past him and out the door.