෴Raz෴

෴Hex෴

Yesterday

“Well, can I use that VPN to check on my mail and phone?”

Her brow furrowed and she looked out the window. “I guess?” she shrugged, “I can’t tell you the login information, but I don’t recall any rules that would make you using it a problem.”

She saw his expression and raised her hands in a supplication, “Relax, I wouldn’t let the rules keep me from letting you use it, but I’m trying to think about whether or not it needs to be a secret.”

Raz shrugged, “Ok, well let me know what you decide, I’m going to move the laptop to the kitchen either way, using it on the couch is too awkward.”

She looked at the machine in his hands. “Look, I don’t mind you using my vpn. But I need you to promise, that you won't mess with my work machine without me.”

He set the computer on the table and turned back to her, “What, you got a kinky porn folder on there? I won't judge.”

She rolled her eyes. “Look who’s talking. But seriously, you can’t use it without me! You need to promise that you won't even try.” Her tone made it clear that she was absolutely not joking.

“All right, all right, I promise, that I will not even touch your computer without permission.”

She nodded and led him into the guest room. He noticed her looking at the light blanket he’d left on the floor and put it on the futon.

She turned to look up at him, uncertainty on her face. “You know how I said I was sure there would be more surprises?”

He nodded.

“This is one of them.” She turned to the three bookshelves and pulled on the middle one. It slid away from the wall in a silent, smooth motion. Fully recessed into the wall behind it sat a computer workstation at standing height.

She turned to look at him. “Nothing I’m about to do is a secret, but would you mind going to the kitchen and giving me a minute before coming back? I gotta defuse the bomb and I don’t want you too close.”

“Haha, sure. Don’t worry, I’ll give you some space. I wasn’t going to shoulder surf your password.” Raz watched her go through several steps before heading into the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water. He just had time to drink it down before she called him back in.

In the guest room she was sitting on the futon, the wall mounted computer scrolling messages in a notification box that looked eerily like his HUD message blocks.

She gestured at the machine. “It’s all yours, all traffic is tunneled through, well, you know the drill.”

He looked at her with a bemused expression and nodded. “And to think, two weeks ago I might have assumed you didn’t.”

She shrugged. “Before I met you it was computer magic I didn’t even have the vocabulary to describe what’s happening, after hearing you talk about work, I sound like I might know something about it.”

Raz opened several browser tabs and started logging into his email accounts and connected to the mobile phone account.

He listened to the voicemails, and then read the texts with a sense of detachment he didn’t expect. Walker’s smug mocking texts and voicemail barely registered after dealing with Braithwaite. Even Clint’s disappointed tone just didn’t seem to matter all that much.

“I would have expected it to bother me more. Not that I’m happy to lose my job, but I’m less unhappy than I would have expected. I remember that job being important to me. I had career goals. But now, somehow, it doesn't even feel like something I would care about.” He paused and looked down at his hands. “I mean. It’s hard to imagine that I would have ever cared about that. Which is weird, because I clearly remember that I did.”

Sia swallowed and clenched her jaw. “That’s unusual. What do you think you’ll do next?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s kind of freeing when you think about it. This whole thing started because I was so wrapped up in my career goals that I finally talked myself into doing the one thing I promised him I wouldn’t do.”

“You don’t have to decide today.”

“Good thing, right now I feel like my whole life plan was bullshit. I was thinking about a high power career and a family, but the world isn’t what I thought it was, and instead of a future with white picket fences and Sally homemaker I’m dating a super spy.”

Sia slashed her hand through the air in negation. “I’m not a spy!” she frowned, “I’m not sure I can be much of a wife anyway. I don’t think I can have kids.” She folded her arms and studied the wall on the other side of the room.

[This is a deeply sensitive topic to her.]

Uh yeah, no shit.

“Why not? I thought you already had kids?”

She shook her head. “No, well yes, but actually no, not in the way you’re thinking. Long story short, they’re my niece and nephew, and yes, I’m the legal guardian. So yes, I have some little kids. They live with me in my parent’s house. We all kind of raise them communally. My younger sister, she found a good guy, got married, got pregnant, the white picket fence and all that. Then she and her husband died carpooling to work. I don’t mind talking about it, but it’s a topic for another time.”

“That certainly explains why you were so reluctant to have me meet your parents. Let me guess, they don’t even know about this side of your life.”

She nodded.

He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Ok super spy, we’ll talk about your complicated home, I mean, your real home life another time.”

She looked glad to change the subject. “Seriously, I’m not a spy! I just do specialized work that leverages my talents.”

“Tow-may-toe tow-maw-toe, you live a double, I mean sextuple life, do sneaky covert things and you get paid for it. I’m not judging, it was meant as a compliment. Also, ‘leverages your talents?’ have you been reading management books?”

“Gotta fall asleep somehow.” she quipped.

He chuckled and got back to reading through the emails in his work account.

A while later he reached the end of the emails and stood up. He stretched his arms and leaned on the bookshelf. “Ok, lemme talk this through. Clint’s disappointed and thinks I’m jumping ship. Walker’s still an asshole. They’re ‘letting me go’, and my office is boxed up for me to come get down in shipping and receiving. My email account will be deactivated at the end of the month, and even that’s a courtesy, probably because Clint is hoping I change my mind. I know I should care, be sad, or angry, but somehow I just don’t feel any of that.”

I wonder if I should be worried about that.

“How do you feel then?” she laid her hand on his forearm.

“I’m not sure, kind of like a shark.”

She tilted her head, “Uh, well that’s not a feeling.”

He suppressed a laugh. “I think I just need to keep moving forward right now. Dwelling on things gone isn’t going to help.”

She smirked, “Oh, I get it. Well in that case Mr. Shark, are you done with my work computer?”

“Oh no, I still need to listen to the rest of the voice mails and check my personal email.”

“Ok, I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to make some food. I’m getting tired, and I hate eating right before bed.”

“The computer won't explode or something when you walk away will it?” Raz joked as she walked out of the guest room.

She turned back and looked at him, her expression all sincerity. “No, I disabled the explosive already.”

[No signs of deception detected.]

Ok, I can see why she wanted a promise.

The next several voicemails were from his mother. He found himself mentally tracking her growing concern, and winced at the increasing sound of quiet desperation in her voice. The last message sounded completely calm. Too calm. Raz grabbed some paper and scrawled the message down.

Sia came back in carrying a plate stacked high with grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. She looked at him and quickly set the plate down on the desk and went to him. “What’s wrong?”

Raz showed her the message “Do you know what this means?”

Sia shook her head. “I don’t. It doesn’t really make sense. Why would she… what possible good could that do?”

He tucked the note in his sweatpants pocket and shrugged with a sigh. “I wish I knew. I guess she can tell us what it means when she gets back.” He picked up the plate. “In the meantime, I don’t know how you made these so fast, but they look great, too bad you didn’t make any for yourself”

She tried and failed to suppress a smile before snatching one of the sandwiches. “You know I didn’t make these here, in the last 5 minutes right? But yeah, I made plenty. I’ve got a lot of mouths to feed after all.”

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

Bewilderment and Fear

In a cozy flat located in a small town near Castelldefels, an outlying area of the Barcelona metro area, Paolo alternated between watching the news and watching over his girlfriend’s troubled sleep.

He sat there resting his chin on his clasped hands watching his boss and mentor exhume his friends and coworkers. His uncertain expression wavered between resolve and uncertainty, anger and fear. Occasionally his gaze would drift into the unseen distance of someone looking inward.

He glanced over at Sasha on his bed. The blood crusted filthy sheets on the floor next to the bed reminded him of the long walk home as he half carried her away from their old workplace, and away from her sister’s body.

An hour later he’d taken a shower, cleaned up the flat, and used the last of his bread and cheese to make some sandwiches. Sasha still slept fitfully.

He took one more peek out the windows through the cracked shutters. Even with his enhanced vision he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

He looked around the room. There was nothing else he could use to procrastinate. With a sign, he pulled out a notepad, took another long look at Sasha, and then turned off the news and started to write.