by Clancy Nacht
Rex watched Ike for a moment, then relaxed. “It’s a very sensitive subject around the agency. Now that Homeland Security has so much power and funding, the CIA has to fight harder to look effective. Things like the incident you mention are damaging to Company morale.” Rex laughed ruefully and nestled his face against Ike’s neck. “It’s not what one would call a low-stress work environment.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Of course it’s a sore subject.” Ike felt stupid for not realizing that. He’d been in such a hurry to display interest in Rex’s life that he hadn’t considered how tender the topic might be. After a pause, Ike mused, “I thought Homeland Security and the CIA would work together. I must sound so naive.”
“No, you sound wonderfully normal.” Rex made a soft, approving noise and kissed the tender spot behind Ike’s ear. Voice muffled by Ike’s hair, Rex went on. “Each agency shares funding with all the others. They compete for resources, for recruits, and for the glory that helps each net more of the former. When it comes down to it, even the CIA, Homeland Security, the NSA, and the FBI are just businesses.”
Ike shook his head, yawning. The complex bureaucracy made him tired, or maybe it was the late night asserting itself after the rigorous sexual activity. “That’s insane. You’ve been in it for so long now, you must be really good at what you do. Especially if they’re having you train others.”
Rex kissed Ike’s neck again and stood, disengaging to stretch his arms and legs. He yawned too, as if Ike’s yawn was contagious, and then sank into the chair beside Ike’s to nibble the salmon. “They’ve put more into training me than they do into most. I think they find it only fitting if I’m called upon to pass it along. Before—”
Rex hesitated and looked sidelong at Ike, seeming to weigh his options.
With Rex off his lap, Ike scooted closer to the table. He tried to look casual, even taking another bite of the salmon, but inside he was on edge, wondering. “Before?”
“Before 9/11, things were different.” Rex carried on eating as if he wasn’t sitting on top of secrets that Ike had never even considered until he met Rex. After a sip of mineral water, Rex said, “During the Cold War, the CIA had very different priorities, different training and recruiting policies.”
The look Rex shot Ike seemed to mean something, but Ike didn’t have enough clues to guess what. As if understanding he’d have to offer more, Rex went on. “There aren’t that many operatives left who received the classical training. Many newer recruits are too dependent on technology without knowing enough about it to understand it’s a double-edged blade. They imagine themselves well-equipped, well-versed in the uses of a computer or a smartphone, well-connected... They forget that they’re only one small person in a very large world consisting of many networks they cannot see and know nothing of. It leads to mistakes. I find those mistakes before they can be exploited by enemies, as in the example you mentioned.”
Rex pointed at Ike with his fork. “That instance was not my responsibility. I was working in another field until that happened.”
“Oh yeah, the GPS in the smartphones could work against you.” Ike nodded, remembering his sister talking about pulling her SIM card so she could go off the grid. She didn’t tell him where she went on those jaunts, and he didn’t ask. Sylvia had always been secretive, the habit necessitated by their parents. Ike had been too; he respected the need for privacy. “It’s handy if you’re lost, but I can see how it would be a problem.”
Ike drank mineral water as he pondered the situation. “9/11 is what motivated my sister to join. A lot of people felt so helpless, I guess. She said a lot of people were hired in the wake of that tragedy.”
He remembered Sylvia also said something about how the background checks had been less thorough due to the chaos, with so many resources focused on internal and external politics. Maybe the competition between agencies also contributed. At the time, Ike had still been a kid living in Connecticut with his parents, so he hadn’t witnessed everything that happened in the city.
Even so, just the mention of that day sunk him into a quiet stupor while he thought about all the ways in which the world had changed. If they’d asked him before that day if the government would have the right to detain Americans or anyone indefinitely without trial, if the government would not only be complicit in but endorse torture, Ike would’ve thought they were crazy. America had fought so hard to be the home of the free and the land of the brave, and this didn’t seem like the kind of country she’d intended to become.
Now everything was fair game as long as someone called it a matter of national security. Ike had benefited from that at the hospital, but the very fact that nothing was questioned once those words were invoked said a lot about how things had changed. Government was getting bigger, but not with social programs. No, it was the military-industrial complex growing every day. Two security agencies focused on the same goal, competing with one another.
Considering how many scandals hit the press, how many were quietly covered up?
And would the CIA have admitted to the losses of their people had Hezbollah not bragged about it? According to the news, there were records too secret to divulge, even inside the agency, preventing even the CIA from knowing how many people–or as the article called them, “assets”–were lost.
Ike looked at Rex, going back over what he said. I was working in another field until that happened. Of course. With a black eye like that, the CIA would want all their best people focused on what went wrong, how to keep it from going wrong again, and recovering as many people as they could. “So you’re working in that field now?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Rex gave Ike a teasing smile, as if he knew how cagey he was being. “I’m uniquely qualified to evaluate the quality of other operatives’ tradecraft while still being ah...fit to perform outside the office. Most of the older agents are desk jockeys. I was one of the few still operating at a level appropriate to the independent resolution of remote engagements.”
Those words sounded so governmental and treacherous. “Independent resolution of remote engagements, huh? Is that why you could shoot a man in the head and not go to jail?”
“Yes,” Rex said with uncharacteristic directness. He held Ike’s gaze, eyes sparking with something rebellious and hurt. Rex’s jaw flexed and the veins at his neck and forehead throbbed. He looked ready for a fight, as if he’d been waiting for the topic to come back to this.
Ike looked down at his food, trying to sort out his feelings. Obviously it was to his benefit that Rex stopped the man, but Ike was uncomfortable with the man being dead. Comparing Rex the killer to the man who was so vulnerable in his arms was too much for Ike to fathom. He met Rex’s gaze. “How do you decide who lives and who dies? You don’t seem that cold-blooded.”
“There are established criteria to aid in on-the-fly determination as to which targets must be terminated and which may be granted a measure of clemency.” Rex stared Ike down as he spoke, neither flinching from the gravity of the words nor apologizing for their reality. Though Rex didn’t seem happy, he’d resigned himself to it. “My long history of service and established reputation as a level-headed and trustworthy operative have advanced my personal initiative accommodation to an extent that my judgment is rarely called into question by any other than those directly above me in the chain of command. As for how I deal with it internally, I have been trained in coping tactics that enable me to, for the most part, compartmentalize my experiences and deal with individual instances on an as-needed basis, in perpetuity.”
Ike set his fork down and took Rex’s hand. He’d only understood half of that. “Rex, I say this with the deepest of affection, but you sound like a training manual. I’m not testing you. This isn’t a pop quiz by the CIA. This is me, your...” His what? Boyfriend? They’d danced around it, but without confirmation, Ike felt strange saying it, especially at such a tense moment. “Ike. You don’t have to give me the company line.”
“I don’t have anythin
g else to give you.” The words came out sounding final, as if Rex had said them before to someone else. They seemed to have drained Rex of his mischief and energy and banished him to some distant place inside himself. He’d averted his gaze and set his fork back on the place mat. His jaw twitched as if Rex was holding back other words, but he said nothing more.
Dejected, Ike stared at his food, feeling as if he’d invaded the space of a defenseless animal. But Rex wasn’t defenseless. If anything, he was more capable than Ike.
Then lyrics popped into Ike’s head, lines from Graves Diggers back in the day. Ike leaned in and sang softly,
“And I wasn’t sure if I could even live
having nothing else to give
until I broke out.
No one can keep me down
because I’ll break out.
They can’t control me
because I am who I need to be.
It doesn’t matter what they tried to make me
or what they do to try and break me
I am my own man
and I’ll always be.”
Rex turned his head to look at Ike, studying him for a few moments in silence. Then he sighed and rubbed his face with both hands like he was removing the spook mask he’d been wearing. When Rex gave Ike that old sad smile again, Ike knew he’d gotten through. “It gets harder all the time, okay? It’s lonely and miserable, and it’s all I know how to do. It’s the only life I’ve ever had. They say I’m the best, that they need me, and as pathetic as it makes me, I like hearing that.”
Ike scooted closer to Rex and wrapped his arms around him. There was no way he could protect Rex from anything, not really, not as well as Rex could protect himself, but it felt good to try. “It’s not pathetic to take pride in your work and to feel like you matter. You have a lot to be proud of. As you say, most people your age aren’t out there in the same way. I don’t think it has to do with physicality. It has to take its toll mentally to do what you’ve done. I couldn’t deal with it.”
“Ha, no, it’s definitely a... mental thing. Physically, I’m nothing special except in the mind over matter sense. When I first got back into field operations, I’d been sitting a desk for a while, being a family man.” They hadn’t talked much about that aspect of Rex’s life, and Rex didn’t seem inclined to dwell on it because he bulled onward. “I was even flabbier than I am now, slower. It’s all mental. Even the most physically fit agent is going to fail unless they’ve got the brain to back it up. But even so, I...”
Rex trailed off and looked away, his posture defensive. He didn’t pull away from Ike. That was a win. “It’s tough. Even for me. I’m proud of my commendations, but... The thing is that you never really know the repercussions of your actions, Ike. They don’t tell you. They give you an objective, and you complete it. Then you watch the news, you read reports out of a recently destabilized region, you hear rumors from your contacts, and you have to wonder, ‘Am I responsible for this? Did I facilitate this thing?’ But there will never be an answer, never any certainty.”
Ike stared at Rex while he processed that information. Movies had influenced, if not ruled, his perception of what a spy was. Even if James Bond was given orders with no context, he always seemed to know what was going on. Maybe there were some situations in which Rex would know the circumstances, but going into the situation in the Middle East blind, he wouldn’t, would he? How many times would that have happened?
What if all those conspiracy theories of a small group of people in a smoky room making decisions about the world was right? It was too much for Ike. “They gave you the power to choose life and death over ordinary citizens, but they never tell you what you’re doing beyond your orders? They trust you but don’t tell you anything? That’s bullshit, man.”
“You have to understand, Ike, that the more any of us knows, the greater the risk to national security. For the sake of every American citizen, it is best that agents in the field, subject to capture and interrogation, know no more than necessary to accomplish their missions.” Rex said this with the air of a tired old man explaining the value of manual labor to a protégé eager to use some new-fangled machine. It was less an insult to Ike than a testament to the truth of Rex’s statement that he was one of the old guard. Still, it was difficult to believe that a man as open-minded and unusual as Rex really bought into that bureaucratic nonsense.
“Besides,” Rex said, his tone changing to that of someone who didn’t want his illusions challenged. “It’s easier to do certain things if you don’t have to answer the whys for yourself.”
“Until you see a region destabilized in the news?” Ike yawned again. The whole thing was making him even more tired than he’d already been. He rubbed his eyes. “I’m not sure I buy it, but that doesn’t really matter. What does matter is whether you still really buy it.”
Rex reached out to touch Ike’s face, stroking his cheek as he gazed at him. “Don’t tell me I wore you out that badly, Mr. Graves.” Rex’s eyes narrowed. “Is Kaylee okay? Did you get enough sleep?”
“Kaylee’s fine.” Rex looked stressed out by their conversation, so Ike let the subject drop. “Neighbor came over last night raving about how the government was watching us. He insisted on searching the place for bugs. He’s kind of unbalanced, but not dangerous. I let him search. He didn’t leave until two.”
Rex raised both eyebrows and gave Ike a probing look. “How long has he lived in your building? What do you know about him?” Seeming to realize how aggressive that sounded, Rex smiled faintly and ran his thumb over Ike’s lips. “Sorry, just can’t tell a spy the word ‘bugs’ without getting a visceral reaction. Care to tell me more? Maybe I’ll sympathize with your situation. I’ve been awakened a few times by a jumpy neighbor myself.”
“Oh, he was living there before I moved in. I don’t know how long before that.” Ike kissed Rex’s thumb. “There’s not much to tell about ol’ Vince, I don’t think. He’s mid-sixties, maybe seventy. Kind of a shut-in. Collects a pension of some sort. He comes over for dinner sometimes. Keeps me up to date on the doings of Wolverine in the X-Men comics. That’s his favorite, probably because Vince kinda looks like Wolverine.”
Rex laughed softly and shifted closer, the chair squeaking as Rex pressed against Ike and kissed his jaw. “I love that mental image. My handsome rock star sitting up all night listening to some batty old nerd regale him with tales of the X-Men.”
Rex’s approval washed over Ike, warm and sincere. He nuzzled Ike’s neck, then lapsed back into his own space and resumed eating. Then Rex asked, “So he’s a conspiracy theorist, hm?”
Ike’s neck still tingled from the kisses. He was aware they were dawdling over lunch, and given the state Oliver had been in when Ike left, he shouldn’t push his luck. But a little bit longer wouldn’t hurt. “Oh yeah. It’s hard to take him too seriously. I think he got confused. He said there were bugs, that an exterminator came over and planted them. I guess he got bugs on the brain or something. After he didn’t find any bugs, he insisted that the government had searched my things, that something had to be missing. There wasn’t.”
“What did he say he saw?” Rex tilted his head as he studied Ike. “Are you sure nothing was missing? Were things out of place? When did he say this happened?”
Rex caught himself again and laughed. “God, listen to me. Working for the Company does a number on you.”
Shaking his head, Rex swigged his mineral water, then set down the glass with a soft thunk. His hands looked shaky. Despite the self-deprecating laugh and the sweet, crinkle-eyed smile, Rex appeared concerned.
Ike wrapped his arms around Rex and pulled him close. “I have a preteen, Rex. Lots of things were out of place. My stabbing put him in a paranoid state, I think. He’s been kind of anxious since then. I admit, I don’t mind the extra security. I’m not too into walking the streets alone anymore. But there’s really nothing to worry about, all right? He found nothing because there was nothing to find. His windows are
lined with tinfoil. He’s a nervous guy. Everything is suspicious to him.”
“All right, Ike. Just keep your eyes open.” Rex’s arms went around Ike and his cheek rested on Ike’s chest. It was a gesture both protective and vulnerable, an extension of Rex’s strange mixture of strength and fragility that begged Ike not to fail him. Then Rex looked up at Ike, and the circles beneath his eyes seemed even darker, his bloodshot gaze sharper. “Tell me you don’t need me to watch over you every second of the day, and I’ll try to believe you.”
“I don’t need you to watch over me every second of the day. However, if you’d like to come over for dinner, I’m sure Miss Kaylee would be delighted.” Ike traced the dark circles under Rex’s eyes. “Then you can come to my bedroom for closer examination.”
Rex smiled and closed his eyes, tipping his face into Ike’s touches. “Maybe that isn’t the worst idea you ever had.” Rex sought Ike’s lips blindly and kissed him hard, not stopping til both were out of breath. Then Rex pulled away with a soft grunt of amusement. “Just don’t tell your friend what I do for a living. It might explode his head to discover you actively encouraged the CIA to spend the night.”
“Too late.” Ike licked his lips. He wanted to go again, but he needed to get back to work and he was exhausted already. “I think Kaylee mentioned it to him. I asked if he meant you. He said you didn’t watch me for the government.” Ike kissed Rex’s forehead. “Have you been watching me for your own purposes?”
Rex’s eyes widened and his face went red as he swallowed hard. Rex reached for his water glass, not meeting Ike’s gaze. After a few sips, he seemed to regain his composure enough to look at Ike out of the corner of his eye. “I want to keep you safe. Sometimes maybe I watch a little. It’s just... It’s what I do. It’s what I’m good at.”
He sounded miserable, like he was certain Ike would brand him a stalker and yell at him to stay away.
Ike blinked. He hadn’t believed Vince. Why would he? Then again, it was probably in Rex’s nature to keep an eye on things. If Rex hadn’t been watching him that night, Ike would probably be dead. He chuckled. “Oh, Rex. I wish you’d watch less and come in more.”
