The Mortal Years (5 of 6)

[humantales]

Title: The Mortal Years
Author: humantales
Fandom(s): Torchwood/Doctor Who
Genre: and Pairings (if applicable): Gen with het, slash & multiples
Characters: Jack Harkness
Rating: PG-13
Betas: quean_of_swords and Goofy
Spoilers: Through Children of Earth and Flesh and Stone
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Jack wasn't always immortal. Jack's life from the invasion until he meets Rose Tyler.


5. Agent

It wasn't long after that that both Lydia and Kestre retired, together. Mitri and Khael were assigned to work together. "Never saw that one coming, did you?" Mitri asked.

Khael just sighed. For the last couple of years, he'd been working with adults. Lydia and Kestre had both been Black Squadron, but they'd been doing a job. They'd both enjoyed breaking the law and skating close to the edge of disaster--Khael did himself, for that matter--but the job came first. To Khael, Mitri seemed like a child. He did the job so they'd let him do what he wanted otherwise. Now, with Lydia and Kestre gone, Khael was forced to babysit Mitri all by himself.

"You're too serious," Mitri told him as they were going over the briefing for their next assignment--stopping yet another ring of artefact thieves. "Look, the job comes first; I'll give you that. As long as that happens, why can't we have fun?"

"'Cause that stuff you're taking leaves you too messed up to work," Khael said, pointing at a cocktail that included who knew what, but had Mitri's pupils constricted to pin pricks.

"Think?" Mitri said with a smirk. "Tell you what. I'll take the antagonist," he held up an injector, "and you take this, which increases the sensitivity of your senses. Among other things. We'll see who does better."

"That is the worst idea I've ever--" Khael's felt his breath catch as he felt the injector in his thigh. Somehow, he kept himself focused on the job. And he knew, he just knew, where to go to find the thieves. "Take the antagonist."

"Already did," Mitri said.

Khael pointed to the unused injector. "No, you didn't; now use it."

Mitri's smile was sly and . . . sexy and wonderful. His kiss was damn good as well, his hands were fucking fantastic, and the only thing to do was to pick him up and slam the smaller man against the wall and ensure that Mitri would do as he was told.

Five minutes later, both men were breathing hard and reassembling their clothes. "Now, come on; I know where the thieves are."

They burst into the sad warehouse where the four pathetic thieves, four kids who needed to be fed more than punished, were sitting with the results of their last excursion. Khael picked up the biggest boy. "Who's giving you your assignments?" he asked. He'd never understood how people could enjoy beating up someone smaller, but he could now. He let the kid see that.

It took five minutes for the boy to start talking. He and his friends laid out the entire operation, or the part they knew of it. They'd identified the man in charge in addition to the woman giving them their assignments. When they were finished, Khael picked up the money they'd been given to set up the next trip. "You're all a bunch of damn fools, you know?" Khael said in disgust. "What's keeping you from taking this and starting over?"

"The big score--" one of the weedier ones started to whine.

"Will never come," Mitri said, his voice rich with amusement. "The people you're working for, doesn't matter what you do, they won't get into trouble. You're the ones who'll take the fall. He's right; take the money and, sweet Goddess, get a couple good meals into you."

Looking between Khael, standing as tall and forbidding as he could, and Mitri, grinning manically and starting to flip a blade in the air, the kids decided to cut their losses and run. "Y'know, those kids aren't that different from you."

"What did you give me?" Khael asked, giving Mitri his coldest look.

"Relax," Mitri said. "It's nothing bad. Brain stimulant, sensory enhancer, and mild, very mild, disinhibitor. And look how well it worked." He smirked. "Probably oughta be straight when we go to arrest the ringleaders, though. This'll be fun; the bloke at the top is an old friend of my father's; nasty son of a bitch. Cheats, too."

Khael didn't say anything about Mitri's asides, although he made a mental note to get more information later. "Let's plan this time, shall we?" he asked, as sarcastically as he could manage.

* * *

Five years as a Time Agent, doing whatever needed to be done, with Mitri as his partner. Most of the time, they were indistinguishable from the Red Squadron agents, the Time Agency's front lines, but more and more frequently, they were given the Black Squadron assignments. It didn't take long for Khael to realize that, no matter how "discreet" the Agency was, most Agents out of their apprenticeships knew who the members of the Black Squadron were. Nothing was said overtly, but it was clear how little they were thought of by the rest of the Agency. Khael did his best not to think about it until, on a mission to find a group trying to undo the current government on a planet that was sympathetic to the Agency, they were trying to get information from one of the group's inner circle. After two days of frustrating questioning, staying within the Agency's guidelines of legal action, the head of the Agency team sent everyone out of the room. "Khael, stay."

"Sir?" Khael asked.

The leader, a man who reminded him of Kestre, who was now married to Lydia and on their fourth child, looked at Khael, his face pinched. "Agent Horton," he said, the formality unusual enough to grab Khael's attention, "I have called a break for the Agency team. We all need down time. Unfortunately, I have an errand for you to run; there is information the Agency needs. I'll let you have a break when you return." He walked to the door and looked back at Khael. "I trust we understand each other." He gave Khael a look of utter distaste as he left.

Khael understood, but the disgust in the other man's face infuriated him as much as it shamed him. Still, job to do. It took him four hours to break the subject, and another hour and a half to put him back together so the torture wasn't obvious. When he went to advise the leader of the information, he saw the rest of the team. With the exception of Mitri, who just looked bored out of his mind, they all looked disgusted. Hoping his fury was less obvious than their disgust--after all, he was a professional even if they weren't--he said, "If you don't mind, I'll take a bit of a break now. The Agency has its information." He swept out of the room and went to one of the physical development rooms and beat on the equipment until he was limp with exhaustion.

"Y'know what you need?" Khael heard Mitri ask as he leaned against the wall.

"A good fuck," Khael said.

"Nah," Mitri said, but then he said, "Well, at some time tonight. You also need to get drunk and fight it out of your system. Always better when the fighting's . . . recreational instead of professional." Khael followed Mitri to a bar he'd never seen before, where he got drunk enough to have a hard time remembering the rest of the night, which included running away from the fight just ahead of the monitors and fucking several women, and at least one man other than Mitri, through the mattress.

He woke up the next morning sore and sick, but not feeling the guilt from the night before. To Khael's great lack of surprise, Mitri knew every establishment within five systems of Headquarters where drink, fights and sex were easily available. For the first time in his life, Khael wasn't spending every spare minute studying. It wasn't like it mattered; he was wise enough now to realize that the lure of the Board given him to convince him to sign up for the Black Squadron was just that, a lure.

The assignment that finally blew things open didn't seem to be much of an assignment. A group of murders were causing problems to the forensic specialists since the corpses were clearly being taken out of time for long enough to cause problems with the investigation. Khael and Mitri were given the assignment to find the murderers.

It didn't take long to determine what the victims had in common; it was then a matter of watching them to find the killers setting up. They were just too late to save the next victim, a retailer with a string of locations across the central Earth colonies, but they were able to identify and prove who his murderers were. As soon as they'd sent the information, their response arrived: "Catch them. Use whatever is needed."

Mitri grinned and Khael set up the trace so they could follow the corpse. By the first stop, the killers were aware of their hunters and were trying to throw the Agents off their trail. Mitri and Khael were good; they'd been doing this for years, and were impossible to throw off. Finally, after nine stops on progressively more primitive planets, the killers stopped on a planet Khael had never heard of that seemed to be completely unpopulated. As the criminals dropped the corpse and were preparing to run without it, Khael and Mitri actually caught them. One of their prey activated a force field, but Khael and Mitri were able to move right through it and apprehend the killers.

The killers were determined not to be returned to the Agency; it quickly became obvious that Khael and Mitri weren't fighting to capture them, but to stay alive themselves. None of the three men stayed alive long enough to find out who was in charge of the ring. "Well, that was a total waste," Khael said in disgust. "We still don't have the ring, just these stooges."

"Better than nothing," Mitri said with a shrug. "Come on, big boy, help me get this stiff situated so we can get him home."

"Just a minute," Khael said. "I want to see if we can use this ship; it's a sweet little craft."

"You and your ships," Mitri groaned, too theatrically to be serious, and sat down, checking the readings from his Vortex Manipulator. After a minute, he said, "Khael, you'd better check your Manipulator. I'm really hoping this one has to be exchanged, for one of the appropriate size."

"I don't know," Khael said, teasing, "do they come any smaller?"

"I'm serious," Mitri said. To Khael's surprise, Mitri looked uneasy, never a good thing.

Khael stepped away from the ship and checked his Manipulator. "Huh. That's quite some field around us. Any idea what it is?"

"Temporal components," Mitri said, trying to focus the readings. "Don't know. Time to leave."

Khael gave the ship one last look--the Agency would be confiscating it--and went to help Mitri with the body. They synchronized their Manipulators for the additional strength and set the coordinates for Headquarters.

After the usual disorientation, Khael and Mitri found themselves in exactly the same place. "Not good," Mitri said, glaring at the corpse.

"No, but let's not freak out yet," Khael said. He was setting up a field around the body that would stop decomposition. "Are you getting anything on your Manipulator?"

"Nothing new," Mitri said, scowling at his Manipulator. "A force field of unknown origin that has temporal components. Don't like that. Do you think that's why the timeline of the victims is so fucked up?"

"Could be," Khael said, standing as he finished with the body. "There might be something on the ship."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Mitri said, rolling his eyes. "Go on, get your wankfest over so you can think, yeah?"

"You'll be singing a different tune if I find a supply of booze," Khael called out as he went into the ship, carefully taking readings with his Manipulator. "The field isn't being generated by the ship, but there's a similarity to the energy readings. Something about them is the same: power source, origin, something."

In the end, there was nothing on the ship that explained the force field. Nor could they find the device that had been used to activate it. Their retrieval beacons wouldn't leave the planet's electrical field, and none of the available communications devices, either their own or the ship's, would reach beyond the planet either. Fortunately, the ship was well-stocked with plenty of food and drink, including enough intoxicants to keep even Mitri happy.

After two weeks, their theories of what had happened and how they'd be rescued were getting wilder and wilder. There just wasn't that much else to do; even Khael and Mitri could only fuck so much of the time. They were just discussing if they should try to make a rigid schedule, which Mitri didn't much like, but was coming to agree with Khael that it would give them some control in the situation, when an energy burst knocked them both out.

When they came to, they found themselves fighting the killers again. The force field had just been activated, and Khael went cold as he realized what that meant. Unfortunately, he and Mitri were too busy fighting for their lives to be able to work out a plan to get at least one of the men alive.

Once the killers were all dead, again, Khael saw his partner looking at him in horror. "Sweet Goddess," Mitri said, his voice hushed, "they set a time loop. What are we going to do?"

"Find a way to break it," Khael said, forcing confidence into his voice. "It may take us more than two weeks, but we have unlimited supplies."

"Not really unlimited," Mitri said, with a scowl. "Just renewable. Every, what, two weeks?"

"Just over," Khael said absently. "Let's get to work."

For the first dozen or so loops, they concentrated on keeping at least one of the others alive, at least long enough to find out how to break the loop. The killers were determined to die for their cause and Khael and Mitri eventually gave up on that. Khael tried to work out a way of getting through the loop, but the time loop shouldn't have been possible in the first place, and, although Khael's temporal physics were good, they weren't good enough.

They tried setting up a more comfortable encampment, but they had to start over again every two weeks. Several of the loops were spent seeing how drunk they could stay for how long, and several more were devoted to seeing how much sex they could have. After they had been in the loop for a year, they found themselves fighting more and more, and over the stupidest of things. They'd been together, as roommates and partners, for over ten years, but they'd always had other people around: other lovers, other friends, Khael's old military comrades, Mitri's family. Now, they had only each other and the togetherness was just too much.

They talked about seeing what would happen if one of them died, if it would break the loop or if they'd just come back to life, but it was too extreme for either one of them. When, as the second year was approaching, Khael started to seriously consider it, Mitri stopped him. "No, look," he said, looking a little panicked, "this is bad enough with only one other person. Can you imagine how bad it would be with no one else?" He shuddered. "Bad idea, drop it. Please, Khael." Grumbling, Khael did.

They'd passed three years when, as they were falling asleep, Mitri started to chuckle. "What's so funny?" Khael asked. Too much idleness was driving him insane.

"Just, in my family, we'd be considered married," Mitri said. "When we get out of here," always when, never if, "I'll have to take you home, introduce my little wife to the family."

"I don't know if I should be more insulted that you're calling me 'little', or implying that both partners aren't equal," Khael said. "If that's the case in your family, you're the wife."

"No, you are," Mitri said, his grin almost back to its old brightness.

"You!" Khael said, overjoyed to have a silly fight instead of the same old, soul-deadening ones, and started tickling Mitri.

The argument over "Who's the wife?" was guaranteed to dissolve into a silly, light-hearted wrestling match for over six months, but eventually even it became a point of serious contention.

They were preparing for the 140th restart when an explosion of some kind knocked both of them down. Khael kept his eyes on his countdown; when it hit the reset and nothing happened, he and Mitri made a run for the ship, where they found a full Agency team.

"Having some trouble, boys?" the team's leader asked.

Khael didn't even complain about the amusement. "Can't believe how great it is to see even your ugly face," he said. "What took you so long?"

"Who'd've thought a time loop?" the other agent said. "We were looking for your bodies and hadn't connected your disappearance with the temporal anomaly until a scientific team came out to investigate. They realized what they had and called us in to handle any potential dangers. I suppose you two qualify."

"You'd better believe it," Mitri said, glaring at the other agent. "So, you ready to leave, darling?"

"Always, dear," Khael said with a laugh, enjoying the bemused look on the other agent's face. "Always."

Khael had been expecting a typical Agency debriefing: a recap of the events, success and/or failure of the mission, any clean-up that he had had to do, any clean-up that the Agency would have to do, and any injuries that needed tending.

After the first year as Mitri's partner, Khael's debriefings included what mayhem Mitri had created and which Important Personages had to be mollified. Khael wasn't sure if it was Mitri's success rate, which in all honesty was as much due to Khael as Mitri, or his father's connections, but the Agency was determined not to lose Mitri.

To Khael's bemusement, the Agency was equally determined not to lose him. He'd been told on more than one occasion that if he wanted to change partners or if he wanted to change from Black Squadron to Red Squadron, it could be arranged; they really didn't want him to retire. He once remarked, "I never thought that Face of Boe stuff was that important." He'd heard, of course, that the Agency was finally getting Ukanan recruits, which they attributed to him, but it was never more than a trickle.

The agent giving him the debriefing looked up, startled. "With your record? It's not your publicity value the Agency wants to keep."

This time, when they got to that point of the debriefing, Khael just sighed. "Who else is going to keep Mitri out of trouble?"

Colonel Justinian, who was debriefing Khael this time, shook his head. "We'd prefer you two partnered together; the projections indicate that you're both significantly more effective as a team than partnered with other agents. But if you're tired of playing nursemaid, we will split you up."

Khael shook his head. Even if it would make his life simpler, easier, quieter-- He pulled his mind away from that list and sighed. "Mostly just tired, to be honest, sir."

The colonel looked at Khael's records. "Not surprising. We've had to insist that you take your last two holidays and you've been working straight for the last five years, on your timeline, with very limited human contact." He checked something. "If we just put all of your accumulated holiday time together, you'd have five months. We can add time for emotional stress or however you want it phrased, and give you up to a year." He looked up at Khael, his expression unreadable. "Would you take it and do you think it would help?"

Khael thought about it. He'd resisted taking holidays mostly because what he wanted to do was go home, and that was gone. His mother was dead and he really had no one else. He'd been back to the Boeshane Peninsula once since joining the Agency and had vowed never again; the beautiful community he'd grown up in was gone, nothing but craters and-- He forced those images away. That left going somewhere and overindulging in entertainments--drinking and sex--that he didn't skimp on on duty.

Finally, he shook his head. "I'll take whatever you insist on, sir, but a holiday doesn't really appeal."

To Khael's surprise, the colonel didn't react as expected. That comment usually led to Khael spending several days with one of the Agency counsellors who would then plop him in front of some perky holiday planner. Great sex, but the holidays that got planned were just more of the same. When he said as much, the colonel laughed. Then he sobered up, "Look, you're showing all of the signs of burnout; you need some kind of break." He was quiet for a minute, but then he smiled and started tapping on his padd. "Your transport will leave first thing in the morning; the details will be in your quarters. Six months required leave; after, we'll say a month, you can choose an alternate destination. You're dismissed."

A little startled by the abrupt dismissal, Khael was still trying to gather his thoughts when he bumped into Mitri on the way to his quarters. Mitri was already started on his holiday; he was already weaving and his pupils were blown. "Did they at least insist you go on holiday?" he asked as he turned to follow Khael.

Khael nodded. "The colonel didn't say where though; I leave first thing in the morning."

Mitri scowled. "Change it. I'm taking you home with me; it'll be great."

"After the last time?" Khael asked. The one time he'd gone home with Mitri, he'd discovered that the Trevalians had a very old-fashioned view of appropriate bed partners. They hadn't objected when he'd been found with one of the servants, but he'd been asked, with icy politeness, to leave when he'd been found with Mitri. Getting kicked out hadn't bothered Khael nearly as much as not being told that it might, just possibly, be a problem. "I don't think so."

"They asked for you," Mitri said, his tone wheedling. "By name."

"I'm not marrying your sister," Khael said. Which was one of the reasons finding him in bed with Mitri had caused such a fuss.

He'd only been sent a destination, on Arcadia which wasn't that bad, but no other details. He was to be met at the spaceport and given the details then.

"Sounds more like an assignment than a holiday to me," Mitri said, pouting.

After spending the night appeasing Mitri, Khael was at the transport in plenty of time. The trip was quiet, with a nice selection of books in the library, drinks in the bar, and attractive and willing potential bed partners. If nothing else, Khael thought, the three day trip was relaxing enough.

The holiday wasn't at all relaxing and it was wonderful. It was an orphanage, for children who'd been orphaned by the war who hadn't been adopted. One of the workers had taken ill and needed to take time to recuperate; Khael was temporarily replacing her.

His job was to keep an eye on the children, keep them out of trouble, discipline them when that didn't work . . . and sleep in the dormitory with them. His group was the 8 to 12 group--old enough to be reasoned with but young enough to not be too defiant. They were awed by Khael's uniform, which he quickly used as a reward, and they wanted to hear all about the Time Agency. Khael was careful what he told them, but he loved the children and loved telling them stories. And, unlike many of the people who worked there, he understood what they had been through.

He begged a three-month extension, which Colonel Justinian granted easily, but eventually he did have to leave. He let the matron who ran the orphanage know that he'd be willing to come back and help out, as a volunteer, on any of his holidays.

When Khael returned to Headquarters, he discovered that the investigation to find the monsters that had invaded his home was finally beginning to find information. Khael immediately requested to be put on the investigation team, but was told that he was too close to it. "My little brother--"

The woman in charge of the team put up her hand. "I don't want to hear it. If I don't know, I can make a mistake later, if you get my meaning."

Khael did, and knew how to play this game. "Of course," he said. "You may not have heard, but I'm really good with kids. I spent my last holiday volunteering at an orphanage, so I have a good feel for how to work with them." He couldn't help wondering if Colonel Justinian had had this in mind all along.

She smiled. "Understood. If we need someone good with children, I'll keep you in mind."

The investigation proceeded for the next year. The invaders were travelling throughout time, mostly in the future which caused more problems for the Agency than the past; however, the investigators were some of the Agency's best and they were persistent. Khael kept abreast of the investigation. No one questioned his interest; few people knew about Gray, but most knew that he was from the Boeshane Peninsula, which was one of the hardest hit communities.

Khael and Mitri had just finished an assignment. They were given a short holiday; Mitri went home, but Khael stayed at Headquarters taking it easy. He woke up the day before the end of his holiday and went to message Iza, one of the women on the invaders' investigation, when he noticed the date. His first reaction was that something had gone wrong with his padd; the date was two years later than it had been yesterday. Caution, however, stopped him before he called to get his padd repaired.

He walked down to the main caf, thinking he'd get breakfast, news and some gossip, and confirmation of his worst suspicion. People were giving him wary looks and no one was meeting his eye. Changing course, he went to an information terminal and checked the day's information; the date matched the one on his padd. Although he could think of several reasons he had a two year gap in his memory, only one matched the way people were looking at him. Taking a deep breath, Khael went to get confirmation of his fears.

It turned out to be more difficult than he'd expected. Colonel Justinian, who had been his commanding officer for the last several years, had been transferred. Khael made a note to find him and had to ask who his CO was.

He hadn't met Colonel Katey before, not that he remembered. She was a tall woman, older than most Agents, with grey hair pulled back into a bun, tall and slender. "Horton," she said when he walked into her office. "You didn't check your messages?" She made it sound like the worst of sins.

"No, ma'am," he said, standing at strict attention. "At first, I thought my padd was malfunctioning. Once I realized the problem, I thought to get full information as quickly as possible. Can you tell me why I've lost two years worth of memory?"

Her lips pursed, but she gestured to the visitor's chair. "At ease, and please sit down." She waited until Khael had before continuing. "As you know, the Time Agency holds its agents, all of them, to the strictest of ethical standards. You violated a number of them. Due to extenuating circumstances, and several other agents' speaking up for you, it was decided to remove the memory of the violations and the circumstances leading up to them in the hope that they would not be repeated." Her expression was sour, but her voice was level and matter-of-fact.

The information was even more confusing. Ethics violations would have had him removed from the Agency, if he weren't charged with even more serious crimes. The type of crimes, to be honest, that he committed as a member of Black Squadron wouldn't be described as "ethical violations"; the words used would have been much stronger. And, if either had happened, there would be hearings and records. Khael was willing to bet that there weren't any. "May I ask what these violations were?" he asked, keeping his voice level. "Certainly if my fellow agents think highly enough of me to give me an unprecedented second chance, I should know where my weaknesses lie."

The colonel stared at him unblinkingly for several moments. Finally, she said, "It was decided that knowledge of what had occurred would insure that it would happen again. You are a valuable agent; the Time Agency is willing to help you through this . . . difficult time in order to retain your value." She looked down at her desk for a moment. "Two years of memories were taken. That is the beginning and end of the discussion. You may have up to a month of leave and, of course, may avail yourself of an Agency counsellor to discuss your concerns. However, the violations themselves will not be discussed." She stood and looked down at Khael. "That will be all. You will be advised of your next assignment."

And that was all that Khael could find out. No one else would say anything, except to tell him to speak with his CO or a counsellor. Khael did go to one of the counsellor's; he wouldn't discuss the violations, either. He was aware that Khael was Black Squadron, but wouldn't tell Khael if that had anything to do with what had happened. He was also, unfortunately, impervious to Khael's charms, citing chapter and verse of the ethical code.

Finally, Khael went looking for Mitri. He had gone home to visit his family on Earth. Khael messaged him and waited. "They did what?"

"Two years of memories, Mitri," Khael said, for what felt like the millionth time. "No one will tell me why, what I did wrong, nothing. Are you going to shut me off as well?" Khael's throat closed at the possibility. With the Agency shutting him out, Mitri was the closest thing he had to family left. "Please, I have to know."

Mitri looked uneasy. Then he gave Khael a code and ended the conversation.

That didn't bother Khael; the line hadn't been secure. He hadn't worried about it; he'd made no secret of what he was doing. However, if Mitri was insisting on secure communications, he was likely to help.

Which he didn't. "I'd tell you if I knew," Mitri said. "I just don't. When I came back from holiday, you told me you'd been given a new assignment, hush-hush, can't tell you, that kind of thing. You were surprised I wasn't assigned with you, but that was all you ever said."

"And you don't know anything?" Khael said, frustrated. He was also surprised; Mitri had the best sources of anyone else he knew; Khael had expected him to know even if he wasn't supposed to.

Mitri didn't say anything for a minute, but then he closed his eyes briefly and looked Khael straight in the eye. "You let a couple of little things slip. I can't be sure, but I think you got yourself on the invader investigation."

Sighing, Khael acknowledged that that would make sense. "What have you heard about it?"

"That's the thing that doesn't make any sense," Mitri said, sounding nearly as frustrated as Khael felt. "They closed it four months ago. Scorched earth, no one left alive. And, no, in the end they said the missing people were just killed and never found. No one will talk about it even now, but you took leave about four months ago. Then you came back and insisted on working alone. You haven't been talking much, but that didn't surprise me under the circumstances." He shrugged. "That's all I know."

"Do you think it's Gray?" It was the only thing that made sense to Khael.

Mitri shrugged. "Can't think of what else it would be, but then why all the secrecy? With your record, even if they took the memories, no one'd do more than shrug their shoulders. It's not like you've hidden it or anything."

After a month of no answers, Khael had finally had enough. He requested an appointment with Colonel Katey. "Ready to go back to work, then?" she asked when he arrived. "Good, here's--"

"No," Khael said, cutting her off. "Is there any way to get my questions answered?"

Her lips were thin as she bit out, "No."

"Then I quit," Khael said, placing his Agency-issued hand weapon on her desk, turning and leaving. He'd already packed his things and had transport arranged. Within an hour, he was off the planet and using all of his Agency-trained skills to disappear. By the end of the day, Mitri had been given an assignment that required all communications to go through Headquarters.

6. Conman