Chapter 34
The first step in her plan was to heal and put some meat back on her bones. The first time she walked into the cafeteria, her former partner, Dean, and two others from her team stopped eating to stare. Frankie didn't hesitate before walking over to their table after she got her food.
"Oh, shit, it really is you," Bill said before anyone else. "We had heard you were back, but you know how rumors are around here."
"Yeah," she grinned, as she took the vacant chair, "I'm back from my lovely vacation at club med."
Josh snorted, "don't lie. That prison they sent you to had such low security, I heard you got weekly trips to the mall."
"And all your meals were catered," Bill put in.
"And you had your own private suite," Josh finished.
"Then how about you go next time, and I stay here?" she told them.
The three men laughed.
"I heard you spent some time at the SHIELD compound," Dean said quietly.
"You heard correctly," she answered. "I tried to convince them to shoot me up with super-soldier serum or let me get bit by a radioactive spider, but they wouldn't. I guess they wanted to keep all the fun for themselves."
"How about hitting you with some Gamma rays?" Josh suggested.
"Nah," she shook her head, "green isn't my best color. Oh, but," she said with a hint of excitement, "I did get to see the Hulk lose his shit while I was there!"
Dean sat quietly while Frankie and the other two joked back and forth for a bit. Once the laughter and humor died down, he spoke up, "how'd you get free?"
"There were other Hydra operatives there on other assignments. I helped out with one and used the confusion to escape afterwards along with Dr. Raynor."
Her companions stilled at the doctor's name.
"Did you say Raynor?" Josh asked in a whisper.
"Yeah, why?"
Dean shook his head at Josh, but his friend didn't heed his warning.
"She's one of Jones lackeys."
Frankie choked on her food. Dean thumped her on the back as she coughed and turned red in the face. Finally, when she could draw a breath again, she looked at them in confusion.
"She told me that she answers directly to the commander. In fact, she overrode Glenda's orders while we were escaping."
"I don't know about that," Dean cut Josh off before he could respond. This time, Josh took the hint. "Maybe things have changed. You know they keep us in the dark when it comes to other departments and teams. You're probably right."
After a tense moment, he turned the conversation towards safer subjects, but Frankie was left wondering if she had been deceived.
The next couple of days passed quickly as Frankie concentrated on her health. Working with one of the trainers in the gym, she concentrated on regaining the full range of motion for her shoulder and started putting on muscle once more.
Despite her comment to keep seeing Frankie, Dr. Raynor hadn't set up an appointment for her by the end of her first week back. When she asked Rory about it one evening, he waved it off. She had an assignment that took her away from the facility for the time being.
Rory, thankfully, didn't try to be intimate with her again, and she happily returned to her own bed in their suite of rooms. The morning after that first night, she had awakened to an empty bed, Rory having gotten up and left without waking her. When he returned that night, it was as if nothing unusual had happened between them. He spoke animatedly about the projects he had in the works and was gleeful at the success of the bug she had help plant on the SHIELD servers.
Using the information coming through the device, he was planning several small operations to act on it to determine its reliability. Measures to ensure the device hadn't been discovered and they were being fed false intel. Frankie asked if she could go on one of the operations to gauge his reaction.
"You just got back and you're ready to go out again?" he raised an eyebrow. "I would think you'd had your fill of operations."
"It's not my first choice, no," she said, choosing her words carefully, "but I feel like I'm responsible for the information you are getting. I would feel like shit if someone wound up in prison or worse because of it. It's only fair that I step up and take some of the risk."
He smiled, "you're always worrying about someone other than yourself. I think you need to give yourself a pass on this one. Maybe once we move on to bigger ops you can have your chance."
Frankie forced a smile, hoping it reached her eyes, "yeah, I think I'd like that."
With only one exception, the ops went off without a hitch. The one that encountered problems did so because of a personality conflict, not bad information. Rory was pleased at how successful the device was proving to be.
As the days went by, Frankie grew more and more restless as Rory continued to block her attempts to rejoin operations. Dean had even asked her when she was getting back "on the horse." With nothing to occupy her time, she spent more time at the gym and a lot of time reading. Still, her days dragged, and she chaffed at the inactivity.
One morning after her asking for the umpteenth time, Rory's patience snapped.
"Oh, for God's sake, Frankie, give it the fuck up!" he slammed the closet door shut and turned on her with a scowl. "Nobody trusts you enough to go out on an assignment. Hell, I'm the only reason you were let back in here and not dumped in a landfill like the rest of the garbage. Quit your whining and try being grateful you're still alive!"
Frankie had backed away until her back collided with the wall at his outburst.
"If that's how you feel, why am I still here?" she asked in a shaky voice. "Am I a prisoner here?"
Just as quickly as it had risen, his anger disappeared and he shook his head, "no, you're not. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled. I don't know what came over me."
He crossed the room to stand in front of her and caressed her cheek with a finger. It was all she could do to keep from flinching away from his touch, but something told her it wouldn't end well if she did.
"I guess I'm more stressed than I thought," he said with a twisted smile. "I have an idea, just give me this morning to make the arrangements, okay?"
"Sure," she said with a forced smile.
"That's my girl," he said, leaning down to kiss her.
On his way out a few minutes later, he told her, "come to my office after lunch and I'll have something for you."
After he left, Frankie brushed her teeth a second time to get the taste of him out of her mouth. Is this what her life had become? What had happened to the woman that just looked out for herself and the hell with others? If she was being honest with herself, she had never really been that person. She had always been the person that other street people came to for help. She was the first to share her good fortune with others. She had approached a half-starved child and taken him under her wing to protect him from the predators that roamed the streets. She may have looked and talked tough, but inside she was a softie.
Why hadn't she already walked out of this mess? Because, deep down inside, she still harbored a fragile ray of hope that her Rory was still there. Even if he was gone, as she feared, she still felt responsible for his wellbeing. If the only thing she could do was take care of Glenda, then that was exactly what she was going to do. After that, all bets were off. One thing for sure, she was not going to stay here one moment longer than she had to.
After lunch, she went to see Rory at his office.
"Good," he smiled, looking up from his computer screen, "you're right on time."
"Well, I have to admit that I'm curious about what you have in mind for me."
He stood up and walked around the desk, "I think you're going to like this. It's right up your alley."
"That sounds promising," she smiled up at him.
Frankie followed him from the office and away from the view of the hangar. At the fourth ring from the center, he took a corridor to the left and stopped at the sixth door on the right. Pushing it open, he gestured for her to enter ahead of him.
The room was small, with two workstations set up on opposite walls. The stations were crowded with electronics that Frankie didn't recognize, and four miniature printers set to the side that were continuously humming as they printed from continuous rolls of paper instead of standard sheets. A small space was clear with a note pad and a set of headphones plugged into one of the components.
A short, balding man that she recognized from the cafeteria but didn't know his name stood at their entrance.
"Commander, I wasn't told you were coming by," he said in a high, strained voice.
"I heard you could use some help, Martin, and I brought Frankie here to assist."
"Thank, thank you sir," Martin stuttered. Holding out his hand to Frankie he introduced himself, "Martin Vigil, data analyst.
Frankie shook his hand, "Frankie Cabrini, complete fuck up."
That earned her a glare from Rory and Martin looked like he was about to choke.
"What are you doing here, Martin?" Frankie asked to smooth over his discomfort.
"Martin is listening to the conversations coming across on the device you placed on the SHIELD servers," Rory answered for him.
"That was you?" Martin asked, his eyes bulging out of his head making him look like a cartoon character.
Frankie covered her giggle with a cough. "Yes, well, it wasn't all me. I had some help."
"That was epic!" he gushed. "You'll have to tell me about it."
"Maybe later," she mumbled, embarrassed by his enthusiasm.
"Well," Rory clapped Frankie on the back, "I see you guys are going to get along well. I'll let you fill Frankie in on what she needs to do. Enjoy," he smiled as he closed the door, leaving she alone in the room with Martin.
He immediately launched into a description of each piece of equipment on the desk.
"Hold on," she stopped him, her head swimming with letters and numbers that meant nothing to her. "Did you just say 'mini vibrator'?"
Martin snickered, "no. Its Minirator. MR1 Minirator. That's this one," he tapped one of the machines. "You won't use it often. This is our go-to machine," he pointed to another, larger machine. "The U8903B audio analyzer. We use it for most of our analysis."
"So, is that what I'm going to be doing?" Frankie frowned. She had nowhere near the experience to do something that high tech.
"Oh, no," he laughed. "You're just going to be listening to conversations."
"Then why are you telling me about stuff I don't need to know?"
He looked embarrassed, "I'm sorry. I don't get a lot of people in here working with me. I guess I got carried away."
Great, now she felt like an ass. "No, that's okay. Why don't you show me what I need to do?"
"Okay, have a seat and I will get you set up."
She settled into the chair at the open station.
"Audio signals are being fed to this tuner," he pointed to the machine that had the headphones plugged into it. "They are broken into four different channels, but they aren't really channels, like on TV or the radio, they're different feeds to and from different servers. Channels is just easier to say. See, their labeled 1 through 4. All you have to do is select the channels that you want to listen to, and that audio will be sent to your headphones."
That seemed simple enough.
"Each of these printers is recording the audio from each channel. Channel 1 is closest to you."
"If they are printing out everything, then why am I listening?"
"You're acting as an early detector," he explained. "It will take hours for analysists to sift through all the incoming data and some of the information we get may need to be acted on immediately."
"But there are four channels. How do I know which one to listen to?"
He shrugged, "it's kind of a luck thing. You listen to one channel until you get bored then switch to another. Or you can cycle through them on a set timeline. It's all up to you how you do it. The more experience you get, the better you'll get at it."
She wasn't convinced. "And when I do get something?"
He grabbed a highlighter off the desk, "if there is something interesting that you think someone should look at sooner, you put an X on the printout where it is. That will cue the analysists to look at it first. If something comes up that needs immediate action," he pointed to a large green button mounted on the desktop off to the side, "push that. A supervisor will come and look at the info and take any action needed."
"This is what you do all day long?"
"No, I'm looking at data being transferred to and from the server. And we get a half-hour break in the morning and afternoon along with an hour lunch break."
He seemed proud of what he did, so Frankie held her tongue. It seemed like the most boring job ever. But, hell, it was something. With a few more questions, Frankie settled the headphones over her ears and flipped the switch for Channel 1.
SPEAKER A: ...served meatloaf again today. Jeez, how many times a week is that now?
SPEAKER B: Twice so far, but it's only Wednesday.
SPEAKER A: I swear if I have to eat...
Frankie switched to Channel 2. She didn't understand his problem with the meatloaf. It was one of her favorites. After the fried fish, that is.
SPEAKER C: I need someone down here to escort these subcontractors. They're here for the swimming pool repairs.
SPEAKER D: It's about damn time. I'll get someone there in five.
SPEAKER C: You'll need two. They have two trucks. And they don't want to give up their cell phones.
SPEAKER D: Don't worry about that. We'll take care of it.
SPEAKER C: You better. I'm not going in front of Fury if they get caught with them.
SPEAKER D: You worry too much. What Fury doesn't know won't hurt us.
SPEAKER C: You obviously don't know him that well.
Frankie sighed and changed the channel again. This was going to be a long day.
