P. Stormcrow

The place was a far cry from the orderly calm of their previous visit. For one, Personnel all wearing FBI jackets swarmed the parking lot and the tall glass building behind it. She recognized many of her colleagues, but there were others that must be from other divisions. Where was the lawyer that had kept them out last time? What was his name? Jamieson? No. Thompson? Thomson!

At first, it appeared as if nothing was amiss, until she tilted her head back and spied a few cracked windows dotting the exterior. She read the brief on the way here but found it still hard to believe, even with the evidence right in front of her.

“Agent Reed!”

Finn snapped to attention. Ms. Callaghan stood with her hands on her hips, with Jackson already to one side while another agent rounded out the trio. She rummaged in her memory again for a name. Agent Allen.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” she mumbled and hurried to them.

Ms. Callaghan made no other comment other than a nod for Allen to continue.

“Inguz Tech has not shared with us any details of the stolen research other than we can consider it chemical in nature.”

“What of the hostage?” Ms. Callaghan asked.

“Eric Byler. Age twenty-eight. He’s—”

“My assistant.” A voice, pitched softly, still cut through Allen’s reporting. But it was the flat tone that caught her by surprise. Not a single ounce of emotion.

Finn turned to the speaker and sucked in a breath as the woman from the photo walked up to them, another younger female in tow. Jackson’s ex in flesh and blood, except that should be impossible. And no one had mentioned a twin.

Beside her, Jackson took a step forward before he stopped himself, just as she reached for him.

“Ms. Albright!” The shorter of the two caught up, a little breathless. “Director—oh.” She flushed and clamped up as she glimpsed the rest of them.

“I am the lead researcher of the Advanced Technology Division. Eric is one of my assistants and responsible for collating all the findings across our multiple projects. It is our hypothesis that they took him along with the research in order to interpret for whoever is behind this,” the blond woman continued, ignoring the interruption.

Her forthrightness surprised Finn, but she maintained a professional, neutral expression.

“Ms. Albright, are you able to tell us a bit more about the stolen—” Allen started with eagerness.

“No.” 

Ms. Albright offered no other elaboration and Allen reddened. Finn stole another peek at Jackson and found that he had clenched his fists so tight, his knuckles were turning white. She reached out and brushed her fingertips by his fist, just to let him know she was there, but it was as if he didn’t notice at all.

Enough was enough. She could be queen of England for all she cared. “With all due respect, if you want us to recover—”

Ms. Callaghan held up a hand, cutting her off before she managed to finish her tirade.

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? You asked for us. I can count on one hand the number of times in my tenure someone had requested the Aberrant Control Division specifically. Forget about knowing about our existence in the first place. So tell me, Ms. Albright, why?”

Rather than answering them, Ms. Albright adjusted the cuff to her suit jacket as she nodded to the woman with a brown hair bob behind her. She stepped up and extended a tablet out to them.

Allen accepted the device, tapped on the screen, and adjusted the angle for all of them to see. 

“This is the footage our surveillance cameras caught during the robbery and kidnapping.”

The feed was blurry, but she made out three people in ski masks storming the place. But rather than guns, one wielded a staff while the devices they used seemed a little too familiar for comfort. Then there were the black gloves they wore.

“Wait. Soom in on this?” Finn pointed at the culprit’s hands. It could be just video artifact, or was it something else?

Allen backtracked, paused, then expanded the picture. It was hard to make out but the white lines… Inscribed gloves?

“As you see, your department’s involvement is paramount to the successful recovery of our research.”

Research. Not the employee. Fuck, that’s cold. Finn snuck a peek at Jackson who wasn’t watching the video feed at all and bit back a sigh. Trying to be as subtle as possible, she inched closer and nudged him with her elbow. Hard. 

It was enough to jolt him out of his shock, and he cleared his throat. “How did you find out about the Aberrant Control Division in the first place?” Was that a hint of accusation in his voice?

Ms. Albright arched one delicate brow at him. “Inguz Tech maintains partnerships with various agencies and is a supplier for several government contracts. It is essential for us to understand the organizational structure of our client to provide the best in class services required.”

Finn blinked at the other woman, her mind working to process the corporate mumble jumble that just tumbled from her mouth. All she could come up with was that they had fingers in many pies and therefore, a lot of influence.

The more she spoke however, the more Jackson looked as if he tasted something sour. It was time to intercept. “Ms. Albright, do you have any ideas who knew about the research enough to bypass all your security measures and steal it?”

Annoyance flitted past her features before she smoothed it over. “Our findings are highly coveted in both black markets and by our industry rivals.” She nodded once more toward her still-nameless assistant who stepped up once more, this time handing her a piece of paper. “We have compiled a list of companies that would benefit the most from taking possession of our research.”

Finn stared at the row after row of names all in eight point font.

“What about disgruntled employees or ex-works?” she asked again, recalling Sunny who had tried to frame Inguz Tech in his own way.

“Ah yes. This is the other list.”

Another piece of paper with even smaller print. Her headache from earlier threatened to return.

Ms. Albright shifted to face Ms. Callaghan. “If you require any other information, feel free to contact my office and we will strive to provide you with what you need to assist in your investigations. Our legal department will also send over NDAs for all your agents involved in the case to sign. Please return them within twenty-four hours.” 

NDAs? She had never heard of FBI staff having to sign additional confidentiality agreements from private companies in all her time as even an intelligent analyst. Her jaw almost dropped as she accepted the business card the assistant handed out, but she kept herself in check as she glanced at Ms. Callaghan who appeared unfazed save for the nearly imperceptible tightening of her shoulders.

Ms. Albright dipped her head once more, acknowledging them all, before turning to leave. 

Agent Allen exhaled. “There’s no way that was Maya.”

“Watch where you mention that name,” Ms. Callaghan snapped. “Agent Allen, you are in charge of the site. Regroup back at the warehouse when you finish up here.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

She turned towards Jackson and looked him in the eye. “You good?”

He swallowed hard, but his voice still came out hoarse. “Yeah.”

He wasn’t. But nobody was going to correct him. Ms. Callaghan studied him for seconds longer before marching off. Finn couldn’t help but spot the similarities between her and Ms. Albright. Was that how all women in positions of authority expected to act?

“Hey, I know you two just came off another stressful case. Why don’t you guys head out for now. We’ve got this here and I can fill you in later.” Agent Allen gave her an understanding smile.

The unexpected kindness drew attention to her fatigue. There was no meanness in her colleague’s eyes and she understood for once that he wasn’t trying to exclude them. Besides, another look at Jackson told her he was in no state to meet Ms. Albright again. “Thanks. We’ll see you back there.”

She had to guide Jackson to the car, and it did not convince her that his body wasn’t just operating on autopilot at this point.

“Someone must be playing a sick joke.” Jackson tilted his face upwards, resting against the headrest as he pushed his hair away from his eyes. “No two people can look that alike.”

“But it wasn’t Maya, was it?” Finn asked in hushed tones.

A bitter chuckle broke from his lips. “Not unless she had a one-eighty personality change. No. Maya was warm, passionate, and very loyal. If somebody took one of hers, she would be the first to charge to the rescue and nothing would have stopped her.”

An idea formed in her head and a slow grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. Without another word, she put the car to drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Hey, where are we going? The warehouse is that way.”

“I know, but I want to take a minor detour first.”