All That Mattered, Ch. 07

He didn’t even make it to his office door before people were coming at him.

First, Francine stood up the moment he walked in. “Billy, I need to —”

“Is someone dead?”

“Well, no, but —”

“Then it can wait until I get my coat off.” Billy finished walking into his office and took his time, shaking out the folds before hanging it up. But when he opened the door to call for his assistant, someone else was standing there instead: Douglas Trent.

“You’re not Francine,” he began.

“No, sir.” The British agent was holding a neatly aligned sheaf of papers. “I was rather hoping I could get in ahead of her. This could be critical.”

“Oh, damn it.” Francine stepped around from behind Trent. “I step out to go to the ladies’ room and —”

Billy glanced at the clock. 7:32. Couldn’t this day at least have had the decency to wait until normal working hours? “Pipe down, both of you. I’m getting my coffee. While I do that, you can each tell me why you think you go first.”

They exchanged a glance, but Trent backed down first, gesturing for Francine to start.

“It’s the Bohannan case,” she started. “One of my janitors left a message overnight. They saw him out at Hyde Field, in one of the hangars, and I need a search warrant for it. Legal says I don’t have justification.”

“He’s allowed to go into a hangar,” countered Billy. “Give me more.”

“It’s already on record. He’s afraid of flying. There’s no legitimate reason for him to be at an airfield.”

She was right, of course, but suspicion wasn’t enough to justify a search. “Maybe he was out there looking for help.”

“Oh, come on, Billy —”

“Don’t take that tone with me. I still haven’t heard probable cause.” He turned to look at Trent. “What about you?”

Trent glanced at Francine once more before indicating the papers in his hand. “There’s a problem in these computer access logs, sir. I can’t yet put my finger on it —”

“Then why are you even bothering him with this?” demanded Francine.

Trent didn’t spare her a glance. “You had your chance, Agent Desmond. Now I want mine. I just need your authorization to pull the logs back another week, Mr. Melrose. I’ve been to the Signals room already and have the form they need right here.”

“Fine. Bring it in here and I’ll sign it. Francine, tell me you have something more than a snitch’s phone message, and I’ll clear the way with Legal.”

She frowned. “I don’t. Not yet.”

“Then it sounds to me like you have some surveillance work to do today.”

“Zeta’s already on that.”

He dropped the pen to stare at her. “You sent her on a stakeout alone?”

“She’s a full agent. She’s capable.”

“She’s a junior agent! A senior agent would’ve known better than to even agree to that. Why aren’t you out there with her?”

“I wanted to come in and —”

“Did you get that sleep you were supposed to get last night?”

She blinked, startled.

“Or is there some other reason your judgment’s too impaired to know that? Exactly what time did you come in this morning, anyway? You’re usually not here this early.”

Her mouth opened and closed before she opened it again to answer. “Not too long ago.”

“Miss Desmond,” Trent began mildly, “I got here at half six. You were already at your desk.”

She gave him a nasty look. “Was there a reason you felt the need to volunteer that?”

His eyebrows rose. “Because it’s true. Or am I misunderstanding, and is having been here for over an hour still ‘not that long ago’?” His tone was soft and silky, but there was no mistaking the steel underneath. “You must forgive me; I’m still getting used to American idioms.”

Her scowl told him her exact opinion of that reasoning. “You’ve got your authorization, don’t you? So why don’t you just run back down to Signals and pick up that paperwork? They’ve probably already prepped it, since you told them you were going to ask.”

Trent gestured. “Actually, I don’t have it yet. Mr. Melrose isn’t done signing.”

Francine sighed dramatically as she folded her arms. “Fine. I can wait that long. It’s not like it’s anything this Agency would care about anyway.”

“Francine —” began Billy, meaning to de-escalate, but Trent had already stepped toward her.

“What exactly was that supposed to mean?” he demanded. “As long as I’m on secondment here, I’m a part of this Agency.”

“You know exactly what that’s supposed to mean,” she snapped back. “There’s no open investigation about computer systems. So why are you looking at access logs? To get some information for your home office at our expense?”

“Now, you wait just one —”

“Enough,” snapped Billy as he picked the pen back up. “Both of you.” He could already feel his stomach beginning to churn, even though the clock had yet to reach 8:00. It was going to be a long morning.

---

It was going to be a short morning, thought Lee sourly, especially if Kelford was leaning the way he feared. The doctor had quietly gone over all the medical records that the surgeons had sent over, his face an unreadable mask as he reviewed the information and recommendations.

His presence back at the Agency on the morning after Billy had sent him home was pure fluke; they’d made this particular appointment before he’d been discharged from the hospital. To his surprise, Amanda had simply walked him down here and left.

“You don’t need me,” she’d explained when he’d asked. “Just let me know what the two of you work out.”

Was this her idea of giving him some privacy? Her not wanting to influence any decisions that were made? Or was it perhaps that she was anxious to get back to the case that was waiting for her up in the Q? He hadn’t had a chance to figure it out, and the anxiety about that — more than he’d thought would be there — was gnawing at his gut.

“…you think?”

Lee blinked himself back to the moment. “I’m sorry, Doc. What was that?”

Kelford sighed. “I said that it looks like you’ll already be taking on an awful lot, once you’ve recovered enough to start physical therapy and work on getting off those crutches. What do you think, Stetson?”

“I’m about ready to crawl out of my head from boredom,” answered Lee honestly. “Look, Doc, I mean to recover. Fully. And I can’t wait to get off these damn things. But I can’t spend all my time thinking about it when part of this is —” he grasped for words “— just a matter of letting my body heal itself. I need to keep my mind busy. That’s why I want to come back on a desk.”

“Melrose sent you home yesterday.”

“Billy’s just being overcautious. Something about liability.”

“It’s a valid concern, Scarecrow, especially with you still on codeine. Your judgment’s not at one hundred percent. It can’t be, as long as you’re on that.”

Annoyed, he blew his breath out. “I’m already starting to wean myself off. I can make it through the day with just aspirin or regular Tylenol, if I can still take the #3 at night. And it’s not like I’m trying to drive or operate any machinery.”

The doctor closed the file. “I’m inclined to let you see what you can do, but only part-time and on a probationary basis. And with the understanding that one problem will send you right back out again. Any problem.”

He felt a frisson of hope. “That’s all the chance I need, Doc. Just let me prove myself.”

“I’m going to want you to check in with me every day. Across a lunch hour, perhaps.”

“I can do that.” Although he could feel his lips thinning at the idea.

“And I think I’ll keep the pain medication down here.”

“Now, wait a minute, Doc. If I have to come down every time I want a little relief —”

“That’s my offer, Scarecrow. Take it or leave it.”

His lips pressed together even harder. “I guess I have to take it. Where do I sign?”

Kelford extracted a sheet of paper and handed it to him along with a pen. Lee hopped on his left foot to get closer to the desk, picking it up, but before he could sign his name he dropped the pen. “Slippery little thing.”

The doctor’s eyes had narrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

“Look, Doc, I’m going to drop things every now and then. I’ve got this basket, but my hands aren’t yet used to using crutches. And my wrists ache sometimes.”

“Hmm,” murmured Kelford. “Any tingling in your fingers?”

Lee shrugged before picking up the pen. To his eyes, his signature looked perfectly normal, but the doctor seemed to take a bit more interest in it than normal. He didn’t say anything, though, so Lee decided not to bring it up. The last thing he needed was to hand the other man an excuse.

In times past, Agency personnel had sometimes had golf carts at their disposal for long walks, but those had been the victim of budget cuts back in ’83. Lee sighed when he came out into the corridor. It hadn’t ever seemed like that long of a walk from the elevator to the medical office, but that had been when he’d had two good legs to walk on.

Buck up, Stetson, he told himself. You’ll have that again. It was a promise to himself, one that he meant to keep. Somehow.

Fortunately, nobody needed him to be fast on his feet right now. Even more fortunately, there was an elevator. Three flights of stairs would have been a bit too much.

He grimaced as soon as the elevator doors opened on the bull pen’s level; he could already hear the raised voices. Including Billy’s. Which meant this might not be the right time to approach him with the release paperwork from Kelford.

Uh-uh, he argued to himself. You’re the one who’s demanding to get back to work. Too late to turn tail now. Besides, a good tussle could sometimes be fun, particularly when Francine was involved.

Biting his lip, he went around the corner and through the glass doors. The receptionist gave him a wide-eyed look, but didn’t say anything further.

Which was all right, because Billy did, pouncing once he caught sight of him. “— and I told you to go home, Scarecrow! What part of ‘don’t come back until you’re ready’ didn’t you hear yesterday?”

“I am ready,” he answered smoothly. “Kelford’s signed off on desk duty.” He had to stop to take his hand off one of the crutches and hand over the paperwork.

Billy scanned it with a scowl. “Fine. You can assist Amanda in the Q-Bureau.”

He looked from Billy, to Francine, to the exchange guy from MI6 — what was his name again? — and then back to Billy. “Sounds like you need more help down here.”

“No,” said the exchange officer tightly. “Miss Desmond just needs to see reason.”

“I’ve never known Francine not to be reasonable.” He glanced over at her. “Irritating, annoying, and smug? Often. But not unreasonable. That’s new.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she muttered.

“Anytime. Just what exactly are you being unreasonable about?”

“I’m not!” she retorted. “Trent here just thinks I can’t see what he’s really up to.”

“He’s working under my orders!” broke in Billy. “The same way you’re supposed to be, Desmond! Keep it up and —”

“You’ll what?”

Lee was shocked. He’d never heard her openly challenge Billy in front of another person that way.

“Well?” she asked. “What? Make me go babysit Zeta on her stakeout?”

Billy’s tone was positively arctic. “That is insubordination, Agent Desmond.”

Everyone else in the bull pen had gone stock-still. Francine’s chin came up, but she didn’t say anything.

“That’s also,” continued Billy, “the second day in a row you’ve stepped out of line in public.”

What? Lee resolved to check with someone else about that. Not Mrs. Marston, he knew, but maybe Amanda or someone else knew something.

Francine’s face had flushed, but she hadn’t moved or changed expression.

“As of now, you’re relieved and can consider yourself on report.”

Lee could count on one hand the number of times those words had come out of Billy’s mouth, and at least one of them hadn’t actually counted.

With stiff, jerky movements, Francine marched over to her desk, yanked open the drawer, and took her purse out. Then she turned smartly on her heel —

“Computer access card,” snapped Billy.

She gave him a truly venomous look, but pulled it over her head and flung it back toward the desk. It clattered to the floor beside the chair. She didn’t look back at it as she finished stomping out.

Lee inhaled suddenly. He hadn’t even realized he’d stopped breathing.

“Pick that up for me, Trent,” said Billy. “Then you’re in my office. You too, Stetson. Everyone else, back to work. Show’s over.”

The sound of his crutches seemed unnaturally loud as he complied. Trent came in right behind him.

“Close the door, Trent,” said Billy, and for the first time Lee realized his supervisor was sweating. “Both of you have a seat. Lee, maybe it’s just as well you’re back on duty. I’m going to need additional manpower down here. Do you know what Francine was working on?”

“No,” he admitted, his voice still unusually quiet. “I wasn’t at the last staff meeting.”

“I’ll bring you up to speed after we finish in here. Right now, I want you to look at this stuff Trent has. It’s all Greek to me, but you’ve worked military reconnaissance. Does any of it look familiar?”

They exchanged a glance along with the files. Was Billy really going to just pretend everything was normal?

Lee gave himself a mental shake. Of course he was. He had to. Opening the folder, he scanned through what looked like gibberish. “What is this?”

“Computer access logs,” said Trent.

“For what?”

“I’m not sure,” replied the other man. “I’ve just now gotten authorization to go further back, and before…” he trailed off. “Well, before. I was headed back down to Signals to get it.”

He kept scanning down, flipping a page — and the name jumped out at him. “Wait a minute. Aegis.”

Douglas’ expression sharpened. “Yes. Precisely. That’s not right.”

“What is Aegis?” asked Billy.

“An integrated weapons system,” he answered. “They started work on it during ’Nam, and as far as I know it’s still active. It’s meant as a counter to anti-ship missiles.”

“Anti-ship missiles?” echoed Trent. “But wouldn’t that be a concern of the Navy?”

“Yes, and it’s the Navy’s program,” Lee confirmed. “Why do you ask?”

“Because this is supposedly an Army database,” he answered.

Frowning, Lee shook his head. “No, there’s no reason it would be —” he broke off. “Are you sure? Didn’t you say you just now got the okay to get more information?”

“I did, but the source was clear from the beginning.”

Billy was leaning back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his forehead, but interestingly enough he hadn’t reached for his usual antacids. “How far back does this go?”

“That’s why I requested the additional logs, sir,” said Trent. His voice was almost too quiet. “I don’t yet know.”

“All right.” He exhaled slowly as he leaned forward. “Let me see that authorization paperwork again. I want Signals to go as far back as they can for you.” He glanced up. “Scarecrow, forget what I said about Francine’s case load. I’ll find someone else. You’re going to be on this.”

“Billy, it could just be a hiccup.”

“Do you really think that?”

With a sigh, Lee dropped his eyes. “No.”

“Neither does anyone else. Both of you, listen to me very carefully. You write everything down longhand. Don’t use computers. And you bring those reports to me daily. In here, where I can lock them up.” He paused to take a breath. “It’s also eyes-only. At least until we can figure out what the hell a Navy system’s name is doing in the middle of the Army’s records. That’s bigger than either one of them.”

Lee swallowed. Billy was right. The question was: how much bigger?