It had taken all of 18 hours for everyone to know where Jessica was. Everyone, of course, did not just refer to the five individuals who had ignored the woman's advice and stayed in the cabin estate in the highly remote outskirts of Winnipeg.
It referred to everyone that watched the news, and everyone that knew someone that watched the news.
Sometimes, Kane hated her instincts.
BREAKING: Jessica Mason, previously confirmed dead, allegedly re-surfaces in Washington, D.C
The Associated Press (AP)
January 24th, 2071
At approximately 10:30 AM Saturday morning, a woman claiming to be Jessica Mason, daughter of the late SEAL Team Six leader David Mason, appeared in front of the Capitol building while sending a highly publicized and widely-shared message across numerous social media platforms.
"I'm alive, and I'm here to set the record straight."
Mason, herself a Navy SEAL, was involved in a skirmish with Mongolian nationalists in May 2054 and pronounced KIA (killed in action). A perceived lack of transparency from the United States government surrounding her supposed death was a matter of great controversy, including protests that took place in Washington, D.C. David Mason, who had previously retired from public life, died in December 2055.
As a crowd gathered, which included many members of the media, the alleged-Mason declined to answer any questions, stating that "it is imperative that [she] speak[s] with the proper authorities" before making any specific public statements.
At approximately 10:50 AM, D.C Metro Police arrived at the scene, and the woman surrendered without incident. A spokesperson for the Metro Police said that the woman was arrested on the charge of intentionally creating a public disturbance within 1000 feet of a Congressperson.
This is a developing story.
RE: Jessica Mason, alive and (sort of) well, reveals herself outside of Capitol building
The Redman-Didache Report
January 24th, 2071
Yes, you read that headline correctly.
From what we can gather, Jessica Mason (yes, THAT Jessica Mason) filmed a video of herself in front of the US Capitol Building, and then remained there as a crowd gathered. Our followers have sent us a ton of photos and videos from the event.
The mainstream outlets are intentionally casting doubt on Mason's identity, but between all the various angles, it looks like she's taken quite a beating since she went missing some 17 years ago. Mason appears to have undergone DNI surgery since then, as well as sustained some kind of facial injury that has left scarring around her jaw, which itself seems to be operating off of an addition augmentation of some kind.
(Some savvier viewers have noticed that the jaw augmentation looks pretty close to a modified (or prototype?) version of the AutoTagged Facial RCS previously manufactured by COMET.)
Mason's "death" in 2054 was confirmed by the Navy, but after a long and tense inquiry process it was revealed that not only did they not recover her body, but nobody actually witnessed her death! The Navy refused to retract its designation of Mason as KIA in spite of this. The Mason family, as well as close family friends Chole Lynch and Otto Crosby all maintained silence throughout the process, fueling long-standing speculation that one or more of them knew the true details behind Jessica's status.
Mason's disappearance was also a story tied to the emergence of the infamous Specter, who, through a series of assassinations and data breaches, helped expose the deeply concerning economic interests rooted in the WA's involvement in East and Southeast Asia. Some posit that public outcry related to Mason's death was a catalyst for the incidents. If nothing else, the timing fits.
Long history lesson, sorry. But it's worth it to get into all the theories people have about this. Forum fiends who were beyond sure that Jessica Mason herself was part of the Specter network got mostly laughed at, but they must feel pretty vindicated now! Of course, it's also possible that this isn't Mason at all, and either a fame-grabbing imposter or a body-double decoy sent in as part of a grander scheme. Those theories are on the more absurd side of things, but there are some more sensible ones out there.
Is Mason going to get Ferris Clarke'd and die via "suicide" or "slip 'n fall drowning?" Or maybe sent to the New Gitmo in El Paso? Even for the US government, that would be pretty mask off, but it's not worth counting out. You also have to wonder just what it is that she wants to speak to the "authorities" about. Is this all just going to be a pardon request? The senior citizens among you might remember Chelsea Manning in a similar situation. And if our analysis is correct, and Mason truly has a DNI, when, where, and how did she get one? Was she hiding out with the CIA or Coalescence this whole time? Is there another entity that's capable of even installing one?
Ultimately, it's not likely that her interactions with the government, whatever they may entail, will actually answer any of those questions. But maybe, just maybe, we'll get to hear from the horse's mouth sometime soon.
"You…you are a witch, Kane!" shouted Mills. "I spent weeks trying to get her to listen to me, stonewalled at every attempt…and then you just waltz in here and somehow shift her mindset to the polar fucking opposite of what it was?!"
Kane was, in her own personal view, not a witch. But she supposed it was fair to say that she'd had a bit of a silver tongue recently. With the help of some long-built-up goodwill and the magic of Caitlin Hernandez's un-redaction system, she'd managed to convert both Winslow and Wes to her cause over the phone.
Witch, vixen, whatever other colorfully wicked feminine adjectives people had for her, Kane would subscribe her power of persuasion merely to the cause she supported, and not much else.
Mills was certainly entitled to feel the way that they did, given the circumstances. Kane wasn't going to rule the idea that she'd influenced Jessica's decision to go public. More prevalent in her mind, though, was the belief that Jessica wouldn't do something that rash based mostly on a stern-but-not-nearly-Guantanamo line of questioning.
Jessica must have had this plan in her back pocket for quite some time, Kane figured.
It wasn't unlike her own play back at the Pentagon. The pickup truck, the license plates, the underground contacts. It was a calculated plan, done under the guise of "just in case" but really operating under the reality of "as soon as I make up my mind." The only difference was that Jessica had enacted a plan to go from concealed to compromised, instead of the other way around.
To what end? Kane had a few theories.
"She's clearing the runway for you, Dara," said Kane. "Jessica was listening to you the whole time."
"Not to be too much of a nag," Alessandra interrupted. "But would someone be able to give me a straight answer as to exactly what it is that you were talking about with her?"
Mills facepalmed. "I was trying to lay the groundwork to clear your names. Get you off the CIA's trail. Permanently."
"And…what?" Alessandra asked impatiently. "She didn't want that?"
"She was too scared!" Mills exclaimed. "At least, until you!" they diverted their gaze to Kane. "Did you tell her something in private? There's no way that Jessica would just-"
"Mills, we now know that we live in a world of clones, resurrections, and zombies," Hall interjected. "Is it that implausible that your friend would do something without telling you first?"
Dara furrowed their brows, huffing but not actually offering a response. It was certainly a harsh comment from Hall, but definitely not without reason.
"Radically honest…" Hall justified, shooting a glance at Kane.
"I think what Hall's trying to say," said Paszek, himself interjecting. "Is that we know Mason is smart enough to not get involved with the feds without a solid plan. And that, just maybe, keeping us a little bit in the dark is part of that plan."
That second part, Kane was less sure of. But it did serve to shut down Dara's protests for the moment, so it was more than welcome in her eyes.
"Eating my hat…" muttered Mills, to no one in particular. "Fucking psycho…"
Jessica had apparently claimed that she was going out to recover the drone that was circling the industrial area just prior to Paszek's rescue.
Not-so-surprisingly, she did not actually retrieve it.
As such, the task was left to Paszek, who was perfectly content to leave alone. But he couldn't exactly fault the rest of their crew for not wanting another solo mission, so a buddy system was mandated for the time being.
Much to Paszek's confusion, Outrider quickly volunteered.
No protests were made known, not by Paszek and certainly not by anyone else, although he and Kane shared a brief moment of mutual suspicion via eye contact. It was less of a suspicious concern and more of a suspicious…daze? In any case, it was all internal and severely lacking in concrete danger, at least from his perspective.
It was a 4-mile trudge through the snow. Deep, dense, January snow that was capable of thwarting even the most advanced of personal augmentations; at least, as long as they actually wanted to remain undetected. So, for the most part, they were forced to walk – faster than any normal person, yes - but it was still walking through the freezing cold. It was boring and painful.
Better for it to not be a long, boring, painful, and awkward walk, he supposed.
"I don't know the full story behind the three of you," started Paszek. "Do you trust Mason?"
"Jessica risked everything to save me. She threw away her second chance to do it. If I can't trust her, then I can't trust anything."
Paszek nodded in acknowledgment. "I guess what I meant to ask was…should I trust her? Should Kane and Hall?"
"Huh," she chuckled. "Well, after digging up everything she could on you, Jessica said she thought you and I would be a lot alike."
Outrider exhaled. "That probably didn't answer your question."
"Why the name game?" Paszek continued, choosing a different path. "All of us have got two names. You and Mason have three. I've been told you insist on the codename."
"It's familiar," she defended.
"More familiar than your own name, Castillo?"
"Castillo is…" she groaned. "…alright," she relented. "My turn for questions. How does a soldiering American football player get into philosophy?"
"The same way anyone else does," Paszek answered, not really sure of what she wanted him to say.
"No offense, but you don't really have the verbal vocabulary of a philosophy scholar."
"None taken," he responded instinctively. "I wanted to try and make sense of the world, like any kid did. Science was too hard. Math was too firm. Found a happy medium."
"Then why stop?" asked Outrider. "If you enjoyed it, why wouldn't you keep doing it?"
"Only grifters can make a career out of philosophy," he explained. "Instead of doing that, I went to go work for the biggest grift in human history."
"Maybe I can see why Jessica thinks we're alike."
"So, you can," Paszek said plainly, fully intending that to be the end of the conversation.
"Then…" she started, gaining Paszek's visual attention. "How are you doing it!?" she asked forcefully, now causing Paszek to stop his marching.
He didn't respond verbally, instead just offering a concerned gaze. What the hell was she talking about?
"How are you still standing right now?! How…how have you not been broken into a million pieces after everything that happened to you!?"
Paszek sighed internally.
This was it, of course. This was the reason that she'd asked to tag along. Mason's debrief had given him a basic idea of the picture, of what they'd been through. But the message that the former Spectre had left, combined with this outburst – it completed that image.
Just what was she clinging onto for this long?
"Have you told him?" Hall asked frantically.
"Told him…what?" Kane asked back. She truthfully could not gather what, exactly, the younger woman was referring to, nor what had prompted her to ask it in such a manner.
Mills had retreated to their room for the evening, likely finding everyone else's comments far more frustrating than comforting. Kane really couldn't blame them for that.
"About Taylor," answered Hall. "You need to tell him, alright? He deserves to know."
"Just trying to find right time, Hall," she responded.
Kane cursed herself internally. She was pissed that Hall had brought it up in the first place, but at the same time, it was pretty difficult to fault her for being so adamant about the subject. Yes, Kane royally fucked up by ever getting involved with him. Yes, she should have made the conflict of interest known when they were hunting Taylor down. And yeah, her feelings on the matter probably did color her thoughts, ethics council brownie points be damned.
But when she thought about it deep enough, it became clear that her and Paszek were also something that wasn't supposed to happen, that shouldn't have happened, that didn't happen, officially, according to the book.
Fuck the records and fuck the book.
So where did that leave her? Maybe Paszek would forgive her, maybe not. In either case, it would affect their relationship for the worse. Could she afford that right now, emotionally?
Once again, though, round two of sullied reflections gave her the answer – that it wasn't about her right now, and that it really never was about her. It was about certain truths and certain platitudes that the both of them had fought for and fought against.
And that if she ever wanted to look at herself in the mirror again, she would tell him as soon as possible.
The question that lingered then, was why Hall was so immediately and visibly anxious to talk about it.
"You still haven't explained what happened with your interface," said Kane, crossing her legs.
"It was bad enough that I don't want to explain," Hall admitted. "Although…I guess that means that I probably should, anyways…"
Kane offered only a concerned glance.
"When Paszek interfaced with me back in Egypt, the last thing that happened was a house burning down, there were these horrible monsters inside of it, Paszek was fighting them off. That was right before he shot me, ending the process."
"Based on what you said right after Paszek recovered in the warehouse," she continued. "I figure that he must have told you what happened."
"He did."
"Well," Hall started, quickly brushing off the brevity of Kane's response, "the other day, I wasn't lying, and I wasn't mistaken. I really didn't remember any of that."
Kane once again chose not to verbally respond at all, instead changing her expression into something a bit more visibly confused.
"Corvus erased it from my memory," she said, looking away. "He said he was sorry, that he did it for my own good."
"No, no…" Kane murmured. "You don't believe him, do you?"
"I don't know!" lashed Hall. "He's done so much for me, I just…I'm just so scared. I'm scared that he's taken even more things from me, things that I don't know yet, don't know anymore."
"He's not in your head anymore, Hall," Kane said, attempting to reassure. "We can fix anything that he's done to you."
"Corvus was all I had for so long!" Hall exclaimed, now practically weeping. "But now I just feel gross! Used, just like the first time!"
"Is this even real?" she continued, her hysteria only snowballing further. "I can't tell anymore! What if I wake up again, and I'm dead?! Or everyone else is dead? Would that be better than this?! I don't even know who I am anymore!"
"Sarah, please calm down," said Kane, herself also trying to remain calm. "I can promise you that this is real, okay? You've never seen me before in your interfaces, in your dreams, visions, have you? Have you seen Dara, Alessandra, any of them?"
"No…" said Hall, shaking her head nervously. "No, I haven't…"
"That's because Corvus hasn't had the opportunity to process your brain's perception of us, right? That's why this is real."
"Yeah, okay…" Hall whispered, relaxing her shoulders and leaning back a little. "This…this is real."
"It's real," Kane affirmed.
"But you have to tell him," added Hall, still not fully shaken out of it. "He's spent too much time not knowing the whole truth. Not just about you…about everything. Trust me, I know what that's like. Give him the truth. Paszek will do the right thing with the truth."
"He always does…" Kane mused, standing up to leave the room.
He always did.
"You want the truth?" Paszek asked back, trying his best to form some combination of sternness and endearment. "In Zurich, I was minutes away from death, insanity, or worse. Now I'm at least a few hours away."
"You had friends! You had something to go home to!" Castillo shouted, still livid. "My home was impoverished dumping ground before, but now it's a wasteland! A ghost town!"
"I had to kill damn near every friend I ever had, besides the ones I'd already buried," Paszek fired back. "No family, no friends, no colleagues, nothing but a worthless medal to show for."
"Yeah," he admitted. "I have Rachel in my life now. I'm luckier than I deserve for that. But tell me this…do you think you have nothing?"
She didn't respond, merely lowering her head.
"Do you?"
"No…" Castillo retracted. "Dara, Jessica..."
"Then that means you have more to lose," Paszek guided. "You have a reason to keep walking. When we've both lost it all, then we can talk about this again."
"Wow…" she breathed, now frustrated once again. "I am really this stubborn, too? God, Jessica was right…"
"She said she was sorry," Paszek added. "Based on what I know about her, it seems like she wouldn't bother doing that unless she really cared."
"She didn't want me calling myself Outrider anymore. Said it was unhealthy," let out Castillo.
"I knew guys that wanted to be called Lieutenant everywhere they went, even back home," explained Paszek, now marching alongside the younger woman at a slow pace towards their destination. "They seemed normal most of the time. But little things were…shaking them, making them irrationally angry."
"Combat does that to people," Castillo reasoned.
Paszek shook his head. "Most of them never saw combat. It was just the environment. The same ten or so people were all you had, all you could really see or hear or know about. You know?"
"I'm stuck there," Castillo nodded. "At Russell Pond. That's what you're getting at, right? I've known it this whole time, I just…I just didn't think it was worth fixing. I can't let them go…the others. It doesn't feel right."
"It's not letting them go," stated Paszek. "Because you can't, right? Even if you wanted to, you couldn't. You want their memory to live on, to be worth something? Cry tears of laughter on your 75th birthday."
Castillo chuckled dryly. "You sure the philosophy grift isn't for you?"
Paszek chuckled back. "Who cares? Now I can write a CIA-tell-all. That will sell even better."
"Thanks, Paszek," she said, with a level of sincerity Paszek was genuinely convinced, maybe even moved by.
"Anytime, kid."
Kane was startled awake by nothing.
This, of course, was how she woke up most times. It was indicative of her, her life, her past, and her conscience. Not the circumstances that she was in at the time.
Kane looked at the clock. It was 7:29 PM. She hadn't even been asleep for two hours. Why? She was exhausted.
Evidently, Alessandra was jokingly harping on Paszek for calling her "kid," which probably meant they had either an argument or an emotional breakthrough. Kane suspected both. Conversations had been had, footage from the drone had been combed through, and more conversations had been had. And still no more news on Jessica.
Her stomach rumbled. Oh yeah, that's probably why she was awake now.
All of their food and supplies were delivered via dead drop. It was not something that most delivery services were willing to do, even when tempted with the offer of tripling their take for the day. But that was unimportant. They were CIA, for God's sake – of course they knew a person.
It was Paszek once again who volunteered to leave for their latest collection of supplies, Kane could only assume he was hit by cabin fever a bit more than the others; this was hardly a surprise given how long he'd spent in Savior's captivity. It was also deemed acceptable for Kane to be his plus one – neither Dara nor Alessandra would believe that they'd ever choose to leave Hall behind by fleeing.
How comforting that sentiment was.
She had insisted on driving. He was probably tired and too stubborn to admit it, but he accepted the situation nonetheless, leaning his head on the window of the truck as it plowed through the Canadian snow.
"Is there not something inherently comical about ordering garlic knots over the dark web?" Paszek asked, almost slurring his words from exhaustion.
"Oh, there is," Kane responded. "I'm just shocked you're in a sunny enough mood to recognize it."
"Had to give Les a…pep talk."
Why did everyone except her have a different nickname for this woman?
"Seems like she might have had a good reason to go along with you," replied Kane.
"She's a good kid. She'll be okay," Paszek said plainly. "Plus, uh…" he trailed off awkwardly. "Well, we're getting some alone time. Counts for something, right?"
"It counts, Igg," she said warmly. "More than ever…"
She did not want to say what she was thinking of. But she had to. She had told herself, convinced herself that it was not just right, but in fact, the only right thing to do. So why was choking down the words instead of speaking them?
Why was she such a fucking coward? She had pushed buttons to end human lives with less hesitation. And now she couldn't bring herself to just tell the truth in the car on the way to pick up a fucking pizza?
"Hall's been talking a lot about radical honesty," she started.
It was just that. A start.
"Kane…I'm tired," he said, not really as much of a response. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to sound insensitive, but…can you just tell me what's on your mind?"
God fucking damnit. She really couldn't be too mad. That was exactly the sort of maneuver Kane would pull if she was in his shoes. But it effectively deleted her running start. Now she would have to jump standing still.
"There are things you don't know about me," she said, shaking her head.
"There are also things that you don't know about me," he replied. "And for the most part…that's okay. At least, it is with me."
Kane inhaled sharply. Yesterday, she was okay with it too. Maybe tomorrow she would be okay with it again. But today was different.
She abruptly pulled the truck over to the side of the road and stopped. Paszek didn't say a word, merely making eye contact with her.
"In 2062, Phi got sent to where I was stationed in Dubai. Hendricks was back stateside to teach at West Point, so Taylor was put in charge. We worked together for six weeks."
"Kane…" he whispered.
"Let me speak," she ordered. "During that time, we became…close. Nothing physical, but…still, it happened. I asked him to stay with me and he refused. We spoke again right before he got the DNI surgery, but outside of that I never saw him again until Singapore."
"It's okay…" he said, once again trying to get a word in.
"No, it's not!" Kane hollered. "Because that time I spent with him was etched in the back of my skull the entire time we were hunting him down! And it was one more thing that I should have told you sooner."
"Rachel…" he spoke once more, putting out his hands in defense. "I knew the whole time."
She was speechless. Her mouth hanged slightly agape in shock.
"Between the mission reports, transcripts, the way Hendricks and Taylor talked to each other back in Ethiopia…I figured it out. I…I was never going to ask you to explain it."
Kane tried fruitlessly to will the tears back into her eyes. It had been so hard, damn near impossible to keep it all bottled up these past few days. She wished she had just been more honest with herself and with Paszek – honest enough to just tell him outright that she'd been on the brink of losing her last shreds of ambition to even continue living.
"I'm so sorry…" she blubbered. She already knew what the response would be. It didn't matter. It was all she felt in the moment.
"I don't know everything you've gone through," he started. "I'll never understand it all in the way that you do. Can you look at me?"
She didn't want to. But she did anyways.
"And…and I don't know how you feel about this, but sometimes we feel like have to justify ourselves to other people, yeah?"
Kane nodded as much as she could, eyes still welling.
"You never have to justify yourself to me. You never did and you never will, okay?"
She shook her head. She tried to say something, anything, an acknowledgement, an apology, a piece of gratitude, something, something, something. But it wouldn't sound. Her throat was swollen and her face was streaming with tears by this point.
God, she didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve him. She wanted desperately to feel like she did. She wanted it more than anything.
And as Kane continued to sob into Paszek's shoulder, it was all she could think about.
Vice President, Congress Confirm: Jessica Mason is Alive
The Associated Press (AP)
January 28th, 2071
On Tuesday morning, Vice President Liana Oh held a special press conference with several members of Congress at the Senate building.
"Transparency is not just a campaign promise. There has been a regrettable display of smoke and mirrors by some federal actors regarding the incident that occurred just steps away from us," the V.P said, referring to the public arrest of a figure claiming to be Jessica Mason, the daughter of Navy legend David Mason, who was declared killed in action 2054.
"I can confirm today that the person taken into custody on Saturday is, in fact, Lieutenant Commander Jessica Mason. Naturally, we can also state with great certainty that her designation of 'killed in action' was obviously erroneous. Currently, [LCDR] Mason has no charges, criminal or otherwise, held against her. She is not in federal custody, but has chosen to remain out of the public eye for her own safety."
Responding to a question on the matter, Oh later stated that Mason was perfectly liable to move and speak freely - even to the press – if she so desired.
Next, Secretary of Defense Malik Carson spoke, calling the handling of Mason's situation in 2054 "an unfortunate stain" on the armed forces' history. "It is my intention, and indeed that of President Zimmern's administration, to find out what went wrong, and do everything we can to ensure that something like this does not occur again."
Further clarifying, V.P Oh announced that there would be a Congressional investigation into the matter, spearheaded by the Committee on Ethics in Foreign Affairs. Secretary Carson stated that he would not be directly involved in the investigation, citing possible conflicts of interest, but ensured that "the Navy, and any other defense assets who are questioned during this process, will cooperate fully."
Closing out the session, Senators Sheldon Small (I – AR) and Nkeiru Farrow (G – MN), co-chairs of the Committee on Ethics in Foreign Affairs, both spoke briefly on their role in the investigation, which is to begin "as soon as reasonably possible," Sen. Farrow said.
"Senator Small and I will both be involved in the process of choosing who is on this investigative panel. Some of these people will likely be those who are on [the Committee on Ethics in Foreign Affairs], but some will not."
Both Senators also re-affirmed V.P Oh's commitment to transparency.
At the present time, Congress is set to meet in full next on February 14th, though V.P Oh implied that an earlier date to begin public proceedings was "being discussed."
Oh declined to answer questions as to who, besides Mason, would be asked to testify as part of the investigation.
"Jessica has got a huge set of titanium balls," quipped Alessandra, slumped over to the side in the back row of the truck. "And still, this is probably the ballsiest thing she's ever done."
Paszek inhaled sharply through his nose. That was certainly one way to put it.
He'd been assigned to drive one of the two vehicles that their quintet needed to transport their supplies, and the evidence they'd gathered, back to Yuma, where a deserted morgue awaited them.
"There may be people on that Congressional committee that want to find out what happened," said Hall, in the passenger seat. "Odds are, though, that at least some of the people that engineered whatever happened in Mongolia are still in power. Think they'll let the truth get out?"
"Probably not," Paszek responded. "But I'm also not sure that's what Mason is really after. You think we'll hear from her, Les?"
"Beats me," she said. "That text she sent was…out of character, I guess. I certainly don't think she will call us just to chat."
"I'm skeptical," Hall started, changing the topic. "But the fact that the United States government just publicly un-declared someone dead is…well," she tilted her head, "it's promising."
"Did my research," she continued. "I…doubt there's anyone stateside that cares enough to know if I'm dead. The White House would have quite a bit of explaining to do to the Egyptian people, though. They think I'm a CDP gun-for-hire, and frankly, I can't blame them."
"They're never going to let Corvus' existence go public," Paszek communicated silently, not wanting to air out the most recent incident that had occurred with the AI to Alessandra.
"Nor should they," replied Hall. "If word gets out that genuine artificial intelligence is real, that shifts the public balance of the world powers. The WA might look stronger, but they don't want the CDP or anyone else to feel threatened, act out in defense."
"I don't want to sound too pessimistic, but…" Paszek trailed off.
"The world is never going to understand what Corvus did," Hall choked. "If I have to go on camera to reveal myself…everyone will think that I'm a mass murderer. I really am dead, aren't I?
"What's the alternative?" Paszek asked. "Would you indict Corvus for his actions?"
"You're defending him now? God, this is fucked up…"
"No, no," he backpedaled. "You have every right to be angry with him. I'm just saying…he could have spread to your DNI again when we interfaced. He didn't."
"That doesn't change what he did to me!" she spat back. "Paszek, I'm sorry, I know you're just trying to help. I know what I said in the interface, but…I don't know if I can ever forgive him for this."
"My trust in Corvus only goes as far as yours," he replied. "I wish we had a better way to clear your name. After this investigation into Mason, maybe we'll have a new angle."
"Or maybe we don't have to follow Jessica's plan at all," Hall amended.
He certainly recognized the irony in his apparent defense of Corvus – hardly a few weeks ago, their positions were reversed. But placing his trust in Hall's judgement, whatever her present mental state may be, was the only way Paszek was really willing to process the situation.
That last statement, though, was not something he had considered. At least, he hadn't considered it strongly enough to say it out loud.
"It's obvious when you two are doing that," Alessandra boomed into their heads. "Like…really obvious."
"We all have our secrets, Les," Paszek defused, now speaking aloud again.
Alessandra rolled her eyes.
"I was told that you knew Aart De Klerk," he continued, shifting conversations fully.
"We worked together a little," Alessandra answered plainly. "Your girlfriend shot him."
Hall turned around to give the younger woman a glare. Paszek stayed pat.
"That wasn't Aart," he responded. "It was the person that killed Aart in Chicago. If Kane hadn't done what she did, we wouldn't all be here to talk about it."
"Yeah, yeah…" she brushed if off. "You're always right, I get it."
"Aart was my friend," Paszek postured. "He defied orders to save my life in Zurich, and took that secret with him to the grave. I wish he was here, too."
"How many more dead friends stand in the way of us escaping this?" Alessandra asked, presumably rhetorical.
"Hopefully, none…" Paszek trailed off. He briefly met eyes with Hall.
Clearly, she wasn't as confident as him.
"At least I'm not in the other car," Alessandra mused. "Can you imagine how bad Dara is freaking out right now?"
"I have every right to yell at you!" yelled Mills.
Kane was inclined to agree, although she wished she wasn't doing it while driving, and while sitting six inches away from her.
"You've jeopardized everything we've worked for!" they continued. "I put all of my trust in you, and you ran away without a second thought!"
Again, all valid points. Kane would certainly have said something similar, were she in Dara's shoes.
"I don't care what she thinks!" Mills shouted. "You…" they trailed off.
Being in the same vehicle, Kane really felt entitled to the courtesy of hearing both sides of conversation, however personal it may have been.
"Are you kidding me?" they asked rhetorically. "I…fine!" Mills huffed, pressing a button to send the call through the truck's speakers.
"Kane, I trust you're willing to be more rational about this?" Jessica's voiced sounded.
"Actually, I think I have to agree with Dara," answered Kane. "And I don't say that lightly."
"You two wanted an out, now I'm giving you one. Isn't that exactly what you asked for? At least tell me that you collected all the evidence."
"Of course, we did!" Mills interjected. "We wanted you to be willing to agree to a peaceful solution to this, not turn yourself in without any goddamn warning!"
"I didn't expect you to understand."
"But you expected me to?" Kane shot back.
"How about when I tell you that the feds were less than 12 hours from breaking down Wes Myers' door in Chicago? You covered your tracks well, Kane, but even you aren't capable of staying invisible."
"So, what, you're buying us time?" she responded.
"Among other things. Amnesty. Anonymity, at least for some of you."
"I assume you're dangling a dead man's switch in their face," Kane reasoned. Outside of the court of public opinion, it was probably the only thing keeping Jessica alive.
"By this time on Friday, that switch will be on your heads, too" Jessica explained. "If they try something on any of you…boom, my zip file goes live."
"And what did you mean by 'some of us'?" asked Mills.
"Uh, exactly that, Dara. I'm already public. No going back there. Whatever they decide to do, they're going to have to justify it to the media with a Congressional hearing. Dog and pony show. That means they'll need faces, too. I'll keep Alessandra out of it, that's for certain, but no promises for the rest of you."
"Paszek and I didn't sign up to have our faces plastered on the news," Kane protested. "We're not interested in participating in the political theater, thanks."
"News cycle is getting faster every day. As long as you don't actually tell the truth in the public hearings, you should be able to live a relatively normal life once the press dies down. Assuming that's what actually want, though."
God, that woman was insufferable sometimes. Assuming? Of course that was what she fucking wanted. It was all she could think about sometimes, especially after her most recent conversation with Paszek, which more than cemented her desire to leave behind this life and never, ever look back.
But the cost of throwing themselves into the public eye was a difficult one to measure, even if it didn't jeopardize their life expectancy. Any publicized connection with Jessica Mason was going to follow the two of them for quite a while – perhaps forever.
Jessica was also, in Kane's opinion, being incredibly presumptive herself; the Savior conspiracy was not dead, no matter how much they wanted it to be. Given her line of work, Kane was not one to think that anyone in the federal government were interested in uncovering it, even if they weren't an active member of it.
Former President Carl Zimmern Sr. would have. The upstart chief in commander ruffled most every feather in Washington, clearing house at all of the alphabet agencies and demanding they start from scratch. A decade later, it seemed to Kane that the powers that be had more or less picked up the pieces and rebuilt themselves – but still, there had been palpable change.
His nephew, though, the landslide electee Harvey Zimmern, had far weaker convictions and far deeper pockets for corporate America to stick their hands into. The promises of change remained, but more legislation was being quietly rolled back every week. All things considered, he was far from the worst president in recent memory, but still a considerable step down from his namesake.
"I don't think announcing that I'm friends with the world's most famous dead woman will blow over that quickly," Kane finally responded. "I'll gladly talk to whoever's in charge, alright? Not to the cameras."
"Whatever it takes, I'll do," Mills stepped in. "At least some of this should go public, frankly."
"We're going to set up an evidence drop early next week. Send Paszek and Alessandra, they should be capable enough to avoid being tracked back to the morgue."
"And you're still going to brush past the fact that you want us to appear in front of Congress? Even with blackmail, that is incredibly dangerous," said Kane, not wanting the topic to be passed by.
"I don't know what else to tell you, Kane. I'm about to get you and Paszek the sweetest deal you'll ever get. Reject it, both you and the world suffer the consequences. Don't contact me again – I'll call you."
The call disconnected.
"You're impossible…" Mills muttered.
"Talking about me?" Kane asked semi-rhetorically.
"I cannot fucking tell whose side you're on. What do you even want out of all this? Why are you still here?"
Kane turned to glare at them.
"You want to leave? Start your fucking homestead in the middle of nowhere? Fine! I don't care! I couldn't stop you if I wanted to!"
"Don't tempt me," she shot back. "I didn't start this mess."
"Well, that remains to be seen…" Mills snapped.
"And what do you mean by that?"
"Paszek knew Fierro. Seems like you knew him, too," they continued. "I still haven't seen rock-solid evidence that there's two Aart De Klerk's floating around."
"If I was part of this conspiracy…"
"I'm not saying you are," they defended. "But I am saying that all roads lead back to Coalescence and the CIA. It might not be your fault, but this is your mess."
Kane elected not to further stoke that fire.
Maybe Dara was right. The world was broken enough as it was, maybe digging in her heels as hard as she always had was the extra punch needed to shatter it all completely.
Wasn't everything her fault, in a way?
"Is this my fault?"
Paszek inhaled upon hearing the question, gently opening his eyes. He was lying down on the couch in the head coroner's office, which presumably had gone stiff from years of stagnation in the heat.
"Do you think this is all your fault?" was his response.
"I don't know," Kane exhaled. "I guess that's…not a great answer."
He sat up. "No one else would ever blame you. Not like that hasn't stopped us before, but…"
"Dara did," she interrupted. "Indirectly, at least."
"You didn't create Corvus, and you didn't unleash him, either. That's where this all really starts, right?" Paszek tried to be as comforting as he could. For Kane, that meant supplanting everything he said with some sort of actual logic.
"Do you feel like this is your fault?" she asked, inverting the question.
He grimaced slightly. Whether or not either of them were willing to admit it, they probably had about the same feelings on the matter, Paszek concluded.
"I think a lot about the people who died," he stated solemnly. He did think about it a lot. The citizens of Cairo, Zurich. The freedom fighters. The bystanders. Aart. Hendricks. What if he never ran up that staircase alone in Lotus Towers?
What if he had actually picked up the fucking phone when Dylan Stone called him?
"You can't get caught up in that," she responded, sitting down on the couch next to him. "You know you can't."
"I know that's what they taught us," Paszek replied in step. "Don't we…don't we want to forget that? Unlearn it?"
"One day, Igg. Not today, though." she responded glumly. She knew. Of course, she knew. Paszek could feel it in his bones.
They were just talking to themselves.
"It's why we were great at our jobs, both of us," she said, breaking a silence.
And it's why they were terrible, too, Paszek thought.