Rogues of Overwatch

by Dustin Martin

The rest of the week progressed without incident. Lydia wasn’t looking forward to her movie night with Jando. When he attended church with her, and Aidan slipped into the back in the middle of the service, that only reminded her more of how she felt about him, and of the upcoming discussion with Jando. Aidan had been appearing more often at the church services, whether she went on her own or with Jando, now that he usually accompanied her. Aidan always sat in the back, trying not to be noticed, yet fidgeting so much that he easily drew attention to himself, and that weekend was no different. However, Jando came down with a cold the same day, and so they postponed the date until Monday.

  The same weekend, Lydia was rudely awoken close to midnight on Sunday night. She blinked, tired and grumpy at Sylvia, towering over her bed. “What? What is it?” she mumbled, propping up on her elbows, her eyes still closed.

  “Get dressed,” she said. “I need you to come with me.”

  Too miserable to argue and still half asleep, she grabbed the first pair of jeans and shirt from her dresser while Sylvia waited outside. Once she was ready, she followed Sylvia to the Center and up to Arthur’s office. Lydia cursed his office lights and fell into a chair. Why did these meetings always have to be at inhuman hours? Arthur was nowhere to be seen, and Sylvia waited at his desk.

  “What’s going on?” Lydia finally asked.

  “You’ll find out when Arthur gets here.”

  She took a deep breath and rubbed the remaining traces of the sandman’s crust off her eyelids. “Does it have to do with Heather?” Sylvia said nothing. “Are we transferring her again?”

  “Very perceptive,” Arthur said from the doorway. “Both of you, follow me.” They rose and walked behind him as he led them to the first floor. Once outside the Center, he took a sharp turn to the airstrip. “I received a call from the FBI last week. They recovered a few bodies that weren’t burnt to a crisp from the sawmill.”

  “Let me guess: they couldn’t ID them?”

  “Correct. Rogers has been working nonstop on it, but so far, nada. It’s like they don’t exist. No record of them anywhere.”

  “Whyte’s doing?”

  “Most likely.” There was more to the story and she waited. “The FBI also wanted us to transfer Heather again by today.”

  “Why?”

  “Orders from on high. It sounded odd to Rogers and me. We believe Whyte had a hand in this, too.”

  “I figured that’s why you had me question Heather about the FBI.” Lydia hung her head, crestfallen. “I did attract the mole.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. All we can be sure of is that Whyte wants Heather and will go through any channels to get her.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “I wanted to help Cooper.”

  “I know you did.” He slowed his pace as they approached the strip, where a small crowd gathered beside Dilbert’s plane. “Cheer up. Even if you attracted the mole, a golden opportunity fell into our lap.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” he said. “The preparations for her transfer were left up to me.” He pointed out the crowd of people. Morella, Harper, the guards who survived the first transfer, Gary, and Dilbert. Only Barrett and Brentle were missing. A few recent guard hires stood at attention next to the plane. A new person, around his thirties, mingled with the crowd and kept his back to Lydia. His voice was loud and booming enough to wake the dead.

  As her brain woke up further, she put the situation together. “All the people from the first transfer,” Lydia said, counting them. “Process of elimination?”

  “Yes,” he said. “The only ones who know about Heather’s transfer right now are those here. If we have another leak, we’ll be able to trace it. We also have some new guards monitoring the Center and dorms and watching for anybody who shouldn’t be up and around.”

  “But won’t people wonder where Heather suddenly disappeared to?” she asked.

  “We’re going to stage a fake transfer later this morning by car. I’ll have more people involved, and if there’s a leak about the car transfer and not the plane transfer, we can narrow down our search.” He halted short of earshot from the group and faced Lydia. “I had to leave you out because I couldn’t afford anyone knowing. You understand?” She nodded. “Until we have a lead, we can’t let the mole know we’re onto them. I wanted you to be a part of this though. You’ve been helpful, and we need as many people watching for anything that goes wrong here. Don’t make me regret this.”

  “I won’t tell a soul,” she said.

  He called the group of people together. “Thank you for coming out here. Where’s Dr. Barrett and Dr. Brentle?”

  “Barrett is dealing with a former patient. Some medical emergency by phone,” Gary said. He waved a manila folder. “She sent along her paperwork in case she’s late.” Sylvia exchanged a wary look with Arthur.

  “My men are escorting Brentle from his office,” Morella said. “He keeps shouting about a secret and a patent coming back with a bad stamp. He won’t let them in.”

  “Well,” Arthur said, clapping his hands, “we’ll have to start without them. I’m sure you’re all well aware of our guest, Heather, and what transpired last time we transferred her.” A gloom settled over everyone and they bowed their heads. “I received a call from the FBI and they want to transfer her again. They believe there may have been a leak within their organization about their safe house.” Lydia noticed he was careful not to mention the BEP Division either. “Therefore, this time, we’re keeping this quiet and we’ll fly her out. Rick volunteered to return early from his assignment and oversee the transfer.”

  The man turned at his name, flashed his teeth, and adjusted his ruby-tinted sunglasses. “No problem, sir!” he said loudly. “Always happy to serve justice to any ne’er-do-wells!” He saluted with two fingers and stepped out of the crowd. Surprises never ceased for Lydia, as the man’s T-shirt and shorts revealed fleshy suction cups, like an octopus, in rows along the front of his legs and the undersides of his arms. Some of them sucked in, making an airy, kissing noise, and wiggled like jelly blobs.

  “Lydia, I don’t believe you’ve met Rick Bradford,” Arthur said. “He’s one of our BEP agents.”

  “I figured,” she said, shaking Rick’s hand.

  “Lydia is one of our newer recruits,” he said.

  Rick flung her arm up and down, far too enthusiastic at such an early hour. “Yes, you’ve told me about her. Shaping up to be a real fine agent, I hear. It’s a pleasure to meet a fellow agent, especially one such as yourself.” He finally released her hand, but the spasms in her arm continued. “Warms my heart that younger people still want to protect and serve.” He thumped his chest with his fist and breathed deeply, savoring the scent. Lydia looked at Arthur, wondering if Rick was aware of the situation about the mole. A brief nod confirmed it.

  “I hear tell you’re quite the powerhouse,” Rick said.

  “Yeah,” she said. “And you can, uh…”

  “Climb,” he said, lifting one leg forward. “Stick to any surface. Bit awkward,” he raised his arms, “but I manage.”

  Behind them, two security guards flanked a chained prisoner on either side with a black bag over her head. Arthur lifted the bag’s front, revealing Heather to everyone. “So that all of you can verify it is Heather,” he said, guiding her forward.

  “Keep your eyes open,” Sylvia whispered. The guards stayed right next to Heather, holding their rifles securely. Lydia watched Harper when he checked to see that it was indeed Heather, pulling down her filter and humming, and then marking in his file. She wondered what was keeping Barrett and Brentle.

  “Have any problems?” Morella asked the guards. He patted Heather thoroughly from head to toe, searching the pockets of her jumpsuit and even digging his fingers in her socks and shoes.

  “No, sir,” one said.

  Arthur leaned into one of the guards and pointed at Heather. The guard listened closely as Gary approached her. “Guess I’ll just sign for Barrett and mysel
f,” he said, filling out his folder and Barrett’s. He produced a bottle of tracking pills from his pocket and dumped one out. He lowered her mask and popped it into her surprised mouth. “There we go. Ready to keep our eye on you.”

  “No!” Arthur said, scaring everyone. “Spit it out!”

  Flustered and confused, Gary held up his hand to her mouth. “Spit out the pill! Spit it!” She tongued it for a moment and spat the pill into his palm. Disgusted, he wiped the saliva on his shirt and gave the pill a fair shake. “What’s wrong, Arthur? Barrett told me to give this to her.”

  “On the plane. We only have a couple for her and have to save them. These are expensive to make,” he said quickly, snatching the pill and pill bottle from Gary and giving them to Rick. Lydia understood his fear. Whyte could be watching for the pill to show up and locate the Cave. What if he had managed that on the last transfer? Her nerves chilled at the thought.

  “Do you have all the paperwork?” Arthur asked.

  “Not all of it,” Barrett said, powerwalking to the group and holding out a couple of sheets. Brentle was in tow, hunched into himself and wringing his hands. Whenever one of the two guards beside him touched him, he jerked away like a skittish creature. “Forgot these two,” she said, stuffing them into one of the folders Gary held. Barrett grabbed Heather’s face, checking her and giving her a quick once-over.

  “Sorry about the pills,” Gary said and handed over his paperwork. He stepped aside for Heather and Arthur. The crowd gave them a wide berth to the boarding steps, although a couple of the guards shot dirty looks at Heather. Those guards failed to step out of her way fast enough and bumped into her shoulder.

  “Lost a lot of friends ’cause of her,” one muttered. “Should just put one between her eyes.” Arthur and Heather quickly brushed through the rest and to the stairs.

  Dilbert waited at the top of the staircase, and before Heather stepped up, one of her guard escorts patted her down a second time. Sylvia and Lydia followed and stood on either side of the steps.

  Heather turned to Lydia as the guard checked her legs. “Control your anger,” she said. “Control your feelings and direct them at Whyte. Watch yourself. Danger is all around you.” Her eyes widened and Lydia caught on. The mole was here. But who? Heather ascended the stairs and didn’t look back. Dilbert welcomed her, Rick, and three young guards aboard. The steps were taken away and the door closed. They watched the fake rock wall at the end of the tarmac lower and the plane taxi down the runway and lift off.

  The group dispersed after the plane left, with Arthur thanking everyone for coming and informing them about the fake transfer this morning. “It’s a decoy that we hope will lure in whoever attacked us last time. Keep this a secret. We cannot afford to have a leak like the FBI did.”

  Lydia walked to the dormitories with Sylvia, and once they were far from anyone else, she relayed what Heather had signaled to her. Sylvia thought for a moment and then asked, “Does it mean anything to you? Some clue to identify the mole?”

  Lydia ran through any hint in the phrasing, but she was too exhausted to think beyond the mole’s being there. “No. I don’t think so. But I’m sure she meant that the mole is one of them and she knew who it was. She probably couldn’t say who because they were nearby. How could she know though?”

  “Perhaps it was what someone said or did,” Sylvia said. “I’ll check the security footage and see if there’s anything.”

  As they entered the dorms, Lydia attempted another apology. “Sorry again about all this.”

  “I am, too,” Sylvia said. “You need to trust us that we know what we’re doing. If I didn’t think the discharge had a chance of working, I would’ve said so. Rick was going to lead the detail. He and the other two agents could’ve handled it.”

  “You should remember how bad it was,” Lydia said. “That smoke guy could easily get around any security detail. Or that rock BEP. What if Whyte came against them worse than he did with us?”

  “You seem to forget we made it out of the mill.” She lifted her cast. “However beaten and bruised, we made it and left them battered. Worse even. We survived, same as we did in Golden Springs. We could’ve seen this through, too. We were ready and have more people to support us,” she said. “Rogers, the local police, and trained BEP agents. Besides, Cooper was not as essential to Whyte as Heather, so he wouldn’t have spared too much manpower coming after him.”

  “He was still in danger.”

  Sylvia stopped her on the stairs. “Every day in our line of work, people, bystanders, and BEPs are in danger or die. Especially when it comes to the Rogue BEP Brigade or rogue BEPs in general. You would be appalled by some of the murders by rogue BEPs or the occasional frightened people rallying against a BEP. We’re all in danger, all the time. You have to understand that. We can’t save and protect everyone. I wish we could, but we can’t. We can only do our best and protect as many as possible. Some will die. That’s not your fault. Do you remember what BEP stands for?”

  “Biologically Enhanced Person,” Lydia said.

  “Right. Person. For all our abilities, we’re still human. At the same time, while we may not be able to save everyone, you can bet I and every agent would give our lives to protect Cooper or anyone else, as I’m sure you would. They would’ve brought Cooper back safe, no matter if that smoke guy or the rock BEP came after him. If they had to face impossible odds to do that, they would have gone down fighting and used their last breath to return him here. If I could’ve been on the detail, I would have done the same in a heartbeat. You have to believe we care. We also have to care about everyone else, too.”

  Lydia sighed. She did believe her. “I know.” Sylvia escorted her back to her room, and before she entered, Lydia asked, “What if something happens to the plane?”

  “Dilbert and Rick are supposed to report regular updates to Arthur. Rick will handle things,” she said. “Despite his boisterous nature, he’s capable and has a good head. He can be a bit brash though. Kind of like you, but he’s very experienced.” She opened Lydia’s dorm room door for her. “Look, I know both Whyte and this whole situation have you scared. We’re all scared. Yet we have to stay strong and work together to face whatever else Whyte throws at us, okay?”

  “Okay. I will.”

  She scooted Lydia inside. “Get some rest. Good night.”

  “Good morning.”

  “Right, morning,” she said with a chuckle. Then she left and Lydia fell into bed.