by Clara Martin
I sat, looking around. Helena sat next to me, and Garrett across from me. He smiled, bracing his hands on the table.
“Think of this as a pre-membership interview, Eileen. We want you to join us. We’ve looked up your history. You’ve been an advocate. You’ve served in the army. You had a proud track record in the army, as well, until your accident. Then today’s performance? You’re everything he want.” His eyes sparkled. “But we need to make sure it’s a good fit, for both of us.”
I nodded. “I know you organize rescue missions into fae territory,” I said slowly. “I don’t know much more than that.”
“We do. Technically, everyone we rescue is outside the estate they’re running from already—it’s a legal grey area. We’re not allowed to set foot on the estate itself, but nobody said anything about the boundary area.” Garrett laughed. “Then we spirit them back to human lands.”
“How do you keep them safe until the sanctuary law kicks in?” I asked.
“We have safe houses we keep them in.” He smiled. “Now, that’s enough about us, Eileen. I’m curious about you. Your discharge document said you’d received some sort of injury.”
I nodded slowly. “I did.” I lifted my hand, looking at it. “I’m no longer able to use magic because of it.”
Garrett nodded. “Problem for an officer. The officer corps uses magic for everything.” I nodded again. “So tell me, Eileen. How did the injury occur? You were never deployed to Afghanistan, Iraq, or the Northern Wild.”
I sighed. “I intervened in a fight. Caught a blow to the head. It probably would’ve been fine if I’d gone to the medic first thing, but I didn’t. I shrugged it off.”
Garrett looked at me sympathetically. “Probably not the best thing you could’ve done.”
“No, it wasn’t. I gradually lost the ability to use magic over the next week. Got blinding headaches. Fainted a few times. By the time I did go the medic, it was too late. They gave me an MMRI scan. The physical side showed the brain damage, right in the prefrontal cortex controlling magic use. The magical side showed that my magical aura had changed completely ... it’s cut off from my body, now. The web is still there; I just can’t use it.”
“Hmm.” Garrett eyed me. “Now tell me, Eileen. We talked to your old boss at the Unity Shelter. She mentioned something about hallucinations. Can you tell us about those?”
I sighed again. That was probably why I’d only gotten one job interview. “I started hallucinating at my old job. I was convinced someone was following me. It got pretty out of hand.” I paused. “Eventually, my mother had me committed to a mental hospital. I’ve been on an antipsychotic regimen ever since.”
I looked at Helena. She was looking at me sympathetically. “You’re up and functioning now,” she pointed out. “It looks like the antipsychotics work.”
I nodded. “I take them every night.”
“What was your official diagnosis?” Garrett cut in, his voice rumbling.
“Paranoid schizophrenia,” I said heavily. “I still battle the paranoia sometimes.”
He nodded. “Not a bad thing in our line of work,” he remarked. “Is it related to the brain damage?”
I shrugged. “Nobody knows. Paranoid schizophrenia is usually genetic, but nobody in my family has it. The Department of Veterans Affairs is reviewing my case now ... I applied for disability.”
Garrett nodded. “Be prepared to wait a few years. The VA is very, very slow.” He smiled. “As Helena says, it looks like you’re functioning pretty well to me.”
“I try.” I shrugged.
He slapped the table. “As far as I’m concerned, Eileen, you’re in. Also—I understand you don’t have a job?”
I nodded slowly. “I got one, then I got fired after my fight with Prince Faolain.”
“The Northern Virginia Rescue Association would like to offer you a job as assistant program director. We don’t pay much—about $1,500 a month—but it’s more than you make now.” He held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”
I grasped it. “Yes. Yes we do. When do I start?”
Garrett smiled. “Right now. We have a rescue mission ongoing right now.” He gestured at the door at the back of the room. “You ready?”
I took a deep breath. “Ready,” I said.
“Let’s go, then.” He stood and walked to the door. He whispered another word and the door sprang open.
“You’ll get your own passcode,” he explained, holding open the door as I walked through.
The room I entered was also lined with maps, had several computers with people behind them, and had a Sending station. There was a long table in the center of the room. It reminded me of the War Room back at my old station’s brigade.
“All right, everyone,” Garrett said, clapping his hands. “This is Eileen. She’s our newest member, and the assistant program director.” He winked at me. “That”—he waved a hand at a man sitting behind a computer, intently monitoring an interactive map—“is Phillip Lafarge, another new member. And this”—he pointed at a woman seated at a second computer—“is Anna Tran, our program director and your new boss.”
“Hey, Eileen,” Anna said distractedly, still staring at the computer. “You’re former army, right? You know anything about BFT?”
“Blue Force Tracker,” I said. “We used a system at our last field training. It uses a combination of satellite and magic to track units in the field.”
“Good. This is a modified BFT. We’re good, but we don’t have access to secure satellites, so we just track with magic and radio.” She waved at Phillip. “Phillip over there has the BFT up, and I”—she held up a small handheld radio—“am monitoring radio traffic. We’d like to have a SINCGARS radio but we don’t have the money.”
“That’s a short-distance radio,” I said, puzzled. “Where’s the rescue mission?”
Anna winked at me. “It is a short-distance radio ... except it isn’t. I’ve magically extended its reach. It’s one of my gifts. Like you, I’m former army, but I was Signal Corps.” She smiled. “They taught me a few useful tricks.”
“So where’s the rescue mission?”
She pointed to Phillip. “Go take a look at the BFT and see if you recognize the cartography.”
I walked to Phillip and peered over his shoulder. Five dots, three labeled “NVRA” and two labeled “SOR,” moved slowly across the map. The map was topographical, the lines on it representing hills, valleys, and ravines. I pointed to the line the five dots were headed down.
“They’re on a mountain,” I said, “following the ridge.” I traced it on the screen with my finger. “It looks like they’re in Shenandoah.”
Phillip laughed. “Right on, Eileen,” he said. “They’ve got a good head start over the hunters. This team is fire.” He wiggled his fingers. “Two former Rangers and a Green Beret,” he said by way of explanation. “The former military always seem to find their way here.”
I took a good long look at him. Phillip was also tall, well-muscled, and clean-cut. His blonde hair was growing out of a buzz cut. I saw that he had a full sleeve of tribal tattoos up and down his arm.
“Army?” I hazarded a guess.
“Please. Better than that,” he laughed. “Marine Corps.” He cut a glance at me. “I thought I heard that you were army. Ever deploy?”
“No,” I said shortly. “I was slated to when my injury occurred.”
“Yeah, I heard about that, too,” Phillip said, eyes going back to his screen. “No magic, huh? Sucks.”
“It does,” I agreed.
“Eileen,” Anna called, “come over here and help with the radio.”
I went over to Anna. Anna was shorter, five foot one but muscled. She gave the impression of a short, solid bundle of C-4—ready to explode with ferocity and energy. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun. She smiled distractedly.
“They’re about to call in,” she explained. “I want you to be here to hear it.”
I nodded, standing next to her chair. The radio spat.
“Charlie Tango to Base, break. Nine-line follows, break.” There was a pause.
“Location. Grid coordinates 47891014 89891014. Break. Radio frequency. No change. Break. Two Alpha. Alpha. Two Bravo. Papa. Delta. Two Delta. Over.”
“Base to Charlie Tango. Good copy.” Anna leaned over and punched something into her computer. “Medevac en route. ETA five minutes. Out.” Anna broke contact and leaned back. “So, catch all that?”
I nodded distractedly. “They needed a patient evacuation. They gave map grid coordinates. They’ll be on this radio frequency. There’re two patients, both urgent care. No special equipment required. Both patients are ambulatory. There are possible enemy troops in area, no method of marking the pickup spot, both patients are non-US civilians, and there’s no nuclear, biological, chemical, or magical contamination.”
“Excellent.” Anna leaned back and crossed her arms. “We had medical personnel waiting at one of our safe houses,” she explained. “They’re en route to the meet-up spot now.” She paused. “I’m a little worried about the enemy troops,” she murmured. “We’ve been tracking the hunters the fae dispatched and they’re nowhere near the area. I wonder what Talbot saw.”
“Talbot?”
“Charles Talbot, the team leader. Former Ranger. Served for ten years then got out.” She smiled. “I told you most of our members were former military.”
“Except Jeanette,” Phillip interjected. “And Helena. And Ross. And Rima—”
“Yes, yes.” Anna waved her hand distractedly. “We bring in all kinds.”
“So now what?” I asked.
Anna laughed. “We wait until the team makes contact from the safe house ... and then the relief shift comes in. And you’re back here tomorrow, nine o’clock, to start your new duties.”
I smiled and checked my watch. Eight thirty. “I need to text my mom,” I said apologetically. “I told her where I was going and that I’d be back by nine.”
She laughed again. “Didn’t quite trust us, huh? Understandable. Go ahead and text her. Just no pictures.”
I nodded, texting away. I put away my phone and looked up. Garrett was scrutinizing me.
“What time do you take your meds?” he asked abruptly.
I sighed. “Nine thirty, usually. I have them with me.” I reached into my bag and pulled out a small bottle, tossing it to him. Garrett scrutinized it.
“Clozaril,” he murmured. “Heavy-duty stuff.” He tossed it back.
“Is there going to be a problem?” I asked sharply.
“None at all, as long as you stay on your meds,” he said warningly.
“It’s not something I mess around with,” I snapped, stowing the medication back in my bag.
“Hey, no need to get defensive,” Garrett said, holding up his hands. “You just have two serious disabilities. You’re working around them. I can see that. But you gotta have your meds to function.”
“I won’t let you down,” I promised, throat tight.
“I know,” he said with a smile. “You’re gonna do awesome, Eileen.” He pointed to the table. “Have a seat. Now we wait.”
Two minutes later, the radio cracked.
“Charlie Tango to Base, over.”
Anna pressed the radio key. “Base to Charlie Tango, I read you.”
“Sitrep follows, over.” The radio cracked again. “8 November, 2100, break. Team 3, break. Present location, Safe House Charlie, break. Activity—securing rescues, break. Effective—ready to roll, break. Situation disposition—no change, over.”
“Base to Charlie Tango, good copy. Out.” Amy leaned back with a sigh. “So, what did you get?” she asked me.
“Well, they used the standard format for a commander’s report. I’m assuming that’s standard operating procedure. They sent the date and time, their unit name, their present location, what they were doing, whether they are combat effective or not, and if there were any changes to major combatant and support force locations.”
Anna smiled. “You haven’t lost it,” she said, praising me. “Good work. I’ll let you shadow me for the next few missions, and then you’ll be able to take over and run one yourself.”
I smiled back. “Awesome! How many missions do you run?”
“Depends on the season. These next two will probably be the last for the winter—we don’t really do anything December through February. It snows pretty heavily in Western Wind and Northern Sun and makes tracking much easier and progress slow.” “We do more in the summer months—maybe one a week.” She sighed. “We usually only get one or two out at a time, but it does add up.”
“How do you get the money?”
Anna winked. “You’re not cleared for that yet, Eileen,” she said with a smile. “We aren’t rich, but we’re not going to go broke anytime soon, either. Maybe next we’ll get a SINCGARS.” She hefted the small radio. “This takes a lot of magic to use.”
I sighed. “I may not be able to use it, then,” I said apologetically. “I can’t use magic.”
Anna blinked. “I had heard that,” she said slowly, “but I hadn’t realized you couldn’t use it at all. Fine. We’ll have you on the BFT, and Phillip here” —she waved at him— “can take radio duty.”
“Awesome,” Phillip said, looking up from his computer screen. “This gets old after a while.” He winked at me.
“So when does the team come back?” I asked, leaning back from Phillip.
“They’ll spend the night in the safe house and come back tomorrow,” Phillip said, looking back to his computer. “We monitor the map to see if any of our friendly trackers pop up—the next shift should be here any moment.”
With that, the door opened. Two women walked in.
“Evening, folks,” one of the woman said, smiling. She looked at me. “New person? Nice to meet you. I’m Rima.” She shook my hand. Rima was midsize, curvy, with a waterfall of brown hair falling down her back. She hitched it behind her ears, her bell earrings dancing.
“And I,” the other woman said, coming from behind her, “Am Lia. Short for Thalia. Nice to meet you.” Lia could’ve been Rima’s twin, except her hair was a brilliant red.
“No canoodling in the War Room,” Garrett warned. “I don’t know why they put you two on shift together.”
“Because we work so well together?” Lia asked innocently, twirling a piece of red hair around her finger.
“I’m not going to start making out with my wife in the middle of a shift, Garrett,” Rima added, rolling her eyes. “Lighten up. You’re not in the army anymore.”
Garrett frowned. “We need to take this seriously,” he said sternly.
“And we do,” Rima said, waving her hand. “Why don’t you go get some sleep?”
Anna pushed the chair back, levering herself to her feet. “I’m gone,” she announced. She looked at me. “Eileen, you go too. You’re going to need to be ready to go, bright and early.”
I nodded, stretching. I could feel the knots of tension in my spine. It’d been a long day.
“Am I—safe to go home?” I asked, remembering what the Sending had said.
Garrett laughed. “By now, Faolain’s spies have told him where you are,” he said, eyes shining. “He doesn’t want to pick an outright fight with us—he knows we’ve got your back. Go home. Get some rest.”
Phillip stood up as well, saluting me. “I heard the story of what you did, Eileen,” he said gravely. “That took balls. Good for you.” He walked past me, opening the door and heading out.
“Seriously, Eileen,” Amy said, walking to the door as well, “go home. Faolain won’t bother you.” She smiled at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I nodded waving. I checked t
he time—nine thirty. I grabbed the Clozaril from my purse and swallowed it.
“Good night,” I said to Garrett, who was scrutinizing me. I walked out the door, as well.
What a day.
Chapter 3
I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. My sleep had been peaceful, unmarred by bad dreams or insomnia. I smiled, stretching, and headed downstairs to the kitchen.
“Good morning, Mom,” I said, kissing my mother on the cheek. “How are you?”
She eyed me sharply. “What happened yesterday?”
I sighed. My mother was shorter than me, five foot five, with wispy brown hair and a petite build. Despite the petiteness, she was a firecracker when she wanted to be—a testimony to her past as a police officer. I often teased her about how she’d gone from law enforcement to teaching. “Is it really that different?” I would ask, jokingly.
“I intervened in a fight, Mom,” I said, shrugging. “There was a fae slave. A fae came in and tried to retrieve her.” I smiled in pride. “I think I broke his nose.”
My mother sighed. “You have to be careful, Eileen. He won’t forget that.”
“I know, Mom. But I have a new job. Assistant program director, at the Northern Virginia Rescue Association.”
My mother narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “That’s a good organization,” she said. She turned and gave me a hug. “Keep going to Muay Thai, and carry your pepper spray. Get something for your car. Maybe you should think about buying a gun.”
“I can’t buy a gun, Mom. I was involuntarily committed to a mental hospital,” I said with a sigh.
She frowned. “You need to apply to the court to get your privilege back,” she said. “This is nothing to mess around with, Eileen.”
I nodded. “I know, Mom. I’ll be careful.”
She nodded back, lips tight. “I know you will be.” She picked up her coffee thermos. “I need to get to school. I’ll see you when you get home.” She smiled at me. “Congratulations on the new job.”
I smiled. “Thank you,” I said. I went back upstairs and changed out of my pajamas, picking out a black pair of pants and turquoise sweater for my first day of work. It let me move but looked casually professional. That seemed to be the vibe at the NVRA.
