Chapter 10

Atticus had known Margaret and Allen would butt heads over something eventually, but he’d hoped it wouldn’t be over something as high stakes as this the first time.

“I know Hayden is good at what he does,” Allen was saying to Margaret, “but these policemen’s behavior is not normal. There would be no reason for them to put themselves out in the wind like that if they really were trying to milk this town while it was still worth milking, which honestly, it doesn’t seem to be. Where is this money they are supposedly after or siphoning off for themselves? It doesn’t add up. We need more boots on the ground in Doumont, some drones and maybe even access to their communications. If they’re corrupt, we get that information to the right people. If they are in league with one of our targets though, we need to nip this in the bud quick.”

“Zero interest in that route,” Margaret responded dismissively. “These are the police, Allen. We aren’t internal affairs or the FBI. Unless something directly points to an EDTF related matter, we need to stay as far from that kind of attention as possible. My legal team is top notch, but no one here is untouchable as far as the law is concerned.”

“Well then maybe we get the Prince to help us,” Allen said. “Who knows what that little guy can do and they can’t exactly report or arrest him if he gets caught, can they?”

“He is already doing something else to help the EDTF at my request and will not be back for a few days yet, maybe even weeks,” Margaret said.

“So you just want to leave? There is no local news in Doumont and we have no contacts in the area; how exactly will we know if we were wrong? When enough bodies pop up that someone else notices?” Allen said incredulously. The man was always professional and polite, but he wasn’t the type to bend to ideas he didn’t believe in. Especially not as a hired contractor who was being paid for his two cents.

“Margaret,” Atticus cut in, “didn’t the Raven open up the possibility that these things might be compelling people to do their will or to serve them or what have you? I agree that there is nothing concrete yet, but I can’t ignore what Allen is saying. The assault on Hayden, in front of a witness, makes no sense. Small town intimidation tactics are one thing, but a major line was crossed there. Maybe the sheriff isn’t who wanted us gone? Maybe it was one of these things catching on to what we were up to?”

“Too many maybes for me,” Margaret responded. “For now I think we need to pull the team back to base. They’ve been noticed by too many people in the community anyway. I’ll look into getting some other sort of eyes and ears on the ground there, but for now that is my decision.”

“It’s the wrong one,” Allen said. “You asked me to consult on field operations and focusing on Louisiana is a far better use of our time than Michigan or piddling around headquarters while we wait for things to get worse or more gates to open.”

“That is your opinion Mr. Becker,” she said coldly, clearly expecting the man to fold now that she’d made her choice. “I hired you to give advice, but I never put into your contract that I would always take it. If you feel your time isn’t being spent well here, you are welcome to go to Michigan and monitor that gate. Those are your options.”

“I don’t expect you to listen to me all the time,” Allen said quietly, “but you won’t be the one out in the swamp cleaning all of this up if you’re wrong. Me and my people will be. The earlier we act, the safer we will all be. This was always going to be risky. We can’t let fear of failure hold us back.”

“Michigan would be good for you I think,” Margaret said, the calm in her voice not matching her flaring nostrils and tight lips. “You can send the Order troops back here to headquarters to await further deployment. They seem to understand professionalism and chain of command far better than you do.”

Allen shot Atticus a look that suggested he might want to intercede here, but Atticus averted his eyes. He’d known from day one that their union with Wynters Tech would lead to moments like this. Margaret was used to ruling with an iron fist in her massively successful empire, but that would not work with people like Allen Becker and his men or Olivia. Hell, even Hayden wouldn’t tolerate much of that. One of the man’s only redeeming qualities.

“Whatever you say boss,” Allen said finally before getting out of his seat and leaving the office.

Awkward silence filled the room as Atticus, Margaret and Jabari watched him go. Olivia’s phone call had set off a firestorm the second Atticus had let Margaret know all that had happened down south. She’d wanted Allen, an Order representative and himself to gather as a sort of war council before making her final decision. Atticus should have known that her choice of Jabari over Joe was indicative of her mood, but he hadn’t expected Allen to be treated like that. The man was close to the only member of the team Atticus would consider indispensable and from what he’d just seen, they were in real danger of losing him.

“Father Jabari,” Margaret said wearily after a moment, “does the Order have any suggestions or ways it can be helpful in this situation?”

“That is really more of a question for Brother Rigali,” Jabari said cautiously. “He and the Monsignor have steadier contact than the Monsignor and I.”

“Is that a no?” Margaret said.

“Well,” Jabari began, seeming a little annoyed himself now, “I have little to do with our network of on the ground contacts, but I believe there is a cell or two in New Orleans that could help, though the police being hostile could be an issue. The Order would never send its people into danger knowingly.”

“Really? Washington state told a different story,” she said. Atticus cringed. Two completely unqualified men tied to Matthias Norton, and therefore the Order, had been killed up there doing reconnaissance for the former Bishop. Why on earth she would throw this in the poor man’s face was beyond him.

“I read the report,” Jabari growled. “Was I asked here for any particular reason other than to slight Joseph?”

“Apparently not,” Margaret said. “Let the Order know their people in the Big Easy can hang tight. I’ll handle things from here. You may go now.”

“What in the hell was all that?” Atticus said the minute the priest had left.

“What do you mean?” Margaret said, eyes flashing dangerously.

“Why call them in here to behave like that?” Atticus said. “What purpose does it serve?”

“They could have accepted my orders and decisions and instead forced me to remind them who is running things,” Margaret said. “I have exponentially more at stake than the rest of you if we get wrapped up in some legal mess because Allen wants to go all Rambo on some hick cops. They need to understand that or move along. You don’t get to live under my roof, eat my food and collect your checks without falling in line when that’s what the situation demands.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Atticus asked. “These aren’t a bunch of private sector techies or some mindless board of investors; these are professional soldiers and former law enforcement. They won’t let you bully them and they sure as hell won’t fall in line if Allen Becker leaves in protest of your shot calling. If you want to take things out on me and Joe, fine, but don’t put lives at risk over petty squabbles and pride.”

“Call your girl,” Margaret said, “and tell them to get on the road as soon as possible. The Louisiana operation is shut down for the time being. They don’t like it, tough. I’m done catering to your people Atticus. Everyone is replaceable.”

“I’d keep that in mind,” Atticus shot back. “If you piss off every single member of the team, human and non-human, plus the Order, I don’t think you’ll need to replace people so much as you’ll be left here, all alone, with a defense contract you never wanted in the first place.”

“I never wanted any of this at all, Atticus,” she said. “Left to my own devices I’d have never seen you or Joe’s faces again. Jack was the only pleasant part of that time in our lives left and you, of all the damn people in the world, you get him killed with help from none other then Joe-fucking-Rigali. I keep you two around so that you might have some chance at redeeming that largest of all fuck ups, but it seems like you’re more interested in getting in my way at every turn. Pop a couple of ambien, sleep off whatever this bullshit is, and let me know by morning whether you’re going to do this with me or not.”

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Atticus took a deep breath and tried not to let the string of insults and hateful comments that were now swirling around in his head leave his mouth. “I’m with you Margaret. No matter what.” He left her then, his mind still overwhelmed with angry thoughts, but felt someone grab his shirt sleeve as he made to leave the office.

Kim, still seated at her desk, locked eyes with his and mouthed, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to her. Atticus nodded silently in return and left as soon as the small woman had released him. If her own people were noticing this change in her behavior, she might really be in danger of fucking all of this up. Despite what she might think, this was far from what Atticus wanted. Lives were on the line and he didn’t want her to feel the guilt that racked him every time he thought of Jack, Unger and even poor Jerry.

When he found himself back in his own room, he pulled out his phone and dialed Olivia. At least she’d be back soon and he’d have something to do besides smoke, eat, sleep and take shit.

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Kim collected herself as she made her way over to Margaret’s desk. During her long stint as Margaret’s assistant she had also grown to fill the roles of best friend, sister and daughter for her brilliant, if difficult, boss. This wasn’t going to be the first or last time she’d have to speak to Margaret in a way most employers would find inappropriate during work hours, but at Wynters Tech all hours were work hours at a certain point. Kim loved that about her job, but it didn’t make moments like this any easier.

Margaret had come into Kim's life fairly recently, though it seldom felt that way anymore. Nine years ago, when Kim was fifteen, she and her father had moved from South Korea to Seattle. Her grandfather had been a defector from the North, and while he had been happy to make it South, the place had never felt like home to his son and granddaughter. So after his death the two had moved, leaving Kim’s mother, long absent from her life after the divorce from her father, behind.

Kim had found herself far ahead of her American peers when she started school in Washington state, but that hadn’t made her many friends. She wasn’t ostracized necessarily, but she didn’t have fond memories of her schooling in that dreary place. Her given name, Ji-Woo, had made her a target for some of the bigger idiots in her freshman class. It hadn’t been anything too horrible, but having people make Ric Flair noises as you walk down the hall to math class everyday got tedious. Then, her sophomore year, one of her teachers had read her name backwards and, to those twenty-five people and her instructor, she had been Kim. She’d made the change permanent soon after that.

Despite this early culture shock, she’d loved growing up in America. It was less restrictive and her father had seemed to come alive once they’d arrived here. He’d worked as a software engineer at a small company just outside the city and had loved his job. She’d never really bothered asking him what he did there, which was a shame all things considered.

She’d graduated high school a year early at seventeen and been accepted into all of the major universities she’d chosen. She’d decided on Caltech and that decision had changed her life forever. She’d kept to herself out of habit more than anything else, but excelled in her studies and soon found herself with an internship at Wynters Tech. She hadn’t known then exactly what specific field she’d wanted to throw her efforts into and had been sure that a stint at the world’s only female run Tech giant would be a good place to start figuring it out.

Her first week had begun as one of her life’s best, but ended as one of her worst. She’d spent most of the week getting acclimated and realizing just what an opportunity she had before her. Her father had been so thrilled to hear how happy she was during this first week of her internship, that he’d decided to come visit her at the Wynters’ Tech facility in Pasadena for lunch that Friday. She’d been looking forward to it all week, but when he hadn’t shown up exactly on time, she’d known something was wrong.

The police had called her around an hour after they’d been slated to meet for lunch in the Wynters’ Tech cafeteria. They’d said they didn’t know for sure, but it looked as though he’d had a stroke while driving. He’d drifted across the busy roadway he’d been traveling on and hit a car full of high school kids head on. Two of the kids had died along with her father on impact and when they’d told her, it had looked like a third might die as well. As it had turned out, he had survived only to kill himself six months later.

Kim had told no one about the incident all weekend, just stayed in her small apartment and cried, not just because her father had died, but because he would never have wanted to hurt anyone, even accidentally like this. She’d had no one to talk to, no close friends or family to lean on during this time of need and it crushed her as much as the loss of her father had. In this isolated state, she’d almost made a terrible decision. She had resolved to not just resign her position at Wynters’ Tech, but to leave school all together. The pressure had just been too much and she’d no longer seen a future for herself as she once had. Why waste other people’s time and whatever remained of her father’s money after his affairs were put in order?

The Monday after the accident she had arrived at her advisor’s office and filled out the preliminary paperwork to withdraw from school. She hadn’t given the confused woman much to work with, but had at least deflected her motherly attempts to convince Kim she was just having a bad day or week or month politely enough. She’d then gone straight to Wynters' Tech to get that process over with. She’d considered just ghosting them, but she was with it enough, even then, to not burn that kind of bridge unnecessarily.

When she’d asked to speak to the woman who oversaw the internship program, the woman had given her some startling news. She’d told Kim that Margaret Wynters, the Margaret Wynters, the one whose name was on every piece of equipment in the building, wanted to see Kim in her office. The space she’d been led to was far larger and more extravagant than the one she was using now, but all Kim had been focused on was the fact that one of her idols was sitting across from her.

Margaret had dismissed everyone from the room but the two of them. She had explained that she’d learned about what had happened to Kim’s father over the weekend and that she was worried that such a setback might cause Kim to make rash decisions. Part of Kim had wanted to lash out at the presumptuous woman, but instead she had confessed that not only did she intend to leave the internship that so many others had vied for, but that she was relinquishing her place at Caltech as well.

She had expected Wynters to tear her apart, to call her ungrateful, foolish, spoiled; all the things she’d felt in that moment of near capitulation to life’s weight. Instead Margaret had made her an offer. She’d told her that she could learn far more working for her than at college anyway and with her financial situation in jeopardy now, she needed a job more than debt. That had been when Margaret had offered Kim a position as her executive assistant. She’d said the role had been hard to fill since she wanted someone with an engineer or programmer’s mind, not some temp who had just left junior college. The few who had fit the bill hadn’t wanted the job due to the less than prestigious title.

“If you accept,” Margaret had said, “you’ll know more about what we do here and how we do it than half your professors ever will.”

Kim had accepted on the spot and her journey from assistant, to gatekeeper, to confidant and finally to friend had begun. In almost every way her life under Margaret’s patronage and tutelage had been better than it was before. She still felt alone sometimes, though she knew she wasn’t. Jomo and Margaret were her family now and as much joy as that had given her, moments like this one sometimes made her long for her former life of near seclusion. Why people made you call them out on their own insane behavior was beyond her.

“Margaret,” Kim said, sitting down next to her boss, not across the table as visitors did. This generally let Margaret know they weren’t about to talk business, but the woman shot her a heated look that said she was not open to such talks at the moment. Tough, Kim thought as she continued, “We need to reassess how you’re dealing with these people. The EDTF I mean.”

“Do we now?” Margaret said, her voice tight and her posture rigid.

“We do,” Kim said, jaw set. She was not intimidated by Margaret like she used to be and her boss’ attempts to silence her in this manner only hardened her resolve. “I understand you being angry at the priest and Atticus, I know the history there, but it’s bleeding into everything else. I know you know that, but I think you need to hear it.” The words pained her as they left her mouth, but she kept her eyes on Margaret even if the woman wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“I’ll kindly ask you to keep your opinions on my conduct to yourself,” Margaret said shortly, still not looking her in the eyes, but instead rifling through papers Kim knew she’d already read. “That man has earned every word of what I’m sending his way and as for that bleeding into other things, I don’t see it that way at all. Mr. Becker obviously needed to be reminded of his place and Joe has proven himself untrustworthy, again, and Jabari came unprepared to be his stand-in. I won’t lower my standards or expectations because these men are used to playing it fast and loose. That’s how we lost…”

“And you need to stop with that,” Kim said, anger in her own voice now. “You’re torturing that poor man with his friend’s death and while I understood it at first, well, now it’s... unbecoming. To say the least.”

“You have work to do,” Margaret said, her teeth grinding audibly as she threw her second laptop open and diverted all her remaining attention away from the woman inches from her.

Pursing her lips, Kim stood and left her boss to fume. Telling Margaret when she’d overstepped was only half the battle. Now she had to wait out the woman’s sulking and temper until she came around. Hopefully that happened quicker than usual this time. Kim had the strangest feeling that something ominous was heading their way. What it might be, she had no idea, but it had her worried.

Instead of returning to her desk, Kim left the office and made her way outside of the building. Taking out her phone, she dialed Jomo. The man filled many of the same roles she did in Margaret’s life, though he was far less gentle than Kim was. If anyone could get through to her, it was him.