Syler hummed thoughtfully. “What drew our attention in the first place was the sophistication of the security the hacker was using and while following the money is a tried and true approach in other circumstances, it seems unlikely they’ve left enough behind in the transaction records to point to who they are even with an interrogation.”
“Exactly, risky gamble,” Arthur confirmed. “The only thing digging deeper is likely to accomplish is giving our investigation away, at which point the main player is liable to go to ground and we’ll lose track of them entirely. We’re better off just keeping tabs and waiting, ma’am.”
The Director nodded, turning to her heads of operations. “I agree. Continue to monitor the situation and update me as it evolves. These sorts always make a mistake eventually.” She paused, waiting for any objections. “If there’s nothing else, Dufault, Thompson, dismissed. Perrin, stay.”
Syler briefly ran over the list of projects he’d been working on as the other two men made their way out, prepared to brief her on the budget adjustments made to compensate for the uptick in expenses stemming from firewall equipment upgrades. He adjusted his glasses and opened the relevant files on his tablet, the door clicking shut in the background.
“I’d like to discuss your handling of Agent Dufault, Perrin.”
Syler looked up sharply, thrown off. “Ma’am?”
“I’ve reviewed the transcript logs from each of your shared ops over the last six weeks. Since the assignment in Brazil, he’s requested you for every mission.” She leaned forward in her chair to fix him with an inscrutable look. The effect was not unlike a scientist examining a particularly interesting specimen. “It would seem that he’s developed a preference.”
“Tell me about it.” Syler shrugged helplessly. “Though I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I’m hardly the only qualified member of operations.” The Director smiled, small and shrewd, as though she’d alighted upon a particularly brilliant idea that she was eager to share, but wanted to savor his torment by drawing out the moment. Syler spared a thought to consider that, between Guantanamo and this absolutely terrifying woman, he should’ve taken the jail time.
“Seven years as a field agent and he’s never once requested a handler by name,” she continued, tone that of someone commenting on the weather and, oh, Syler did not like where this was going. “He trusts you.”
“Ma’am, I—” Syler interrupted feebly. She silenced him with a raised hand.
“Dufault has always had an incredibly high rate of mission success. It’s what makes him one of our best agents. Unfortunately, he tends to go off script to do it and the collateral damage can be,” Boothman paused, flicking her hand through the air, “trying. This is the first time in memory that he’s found a handler suited to him.” Syler blanched, absolutely hating the turn this conversation had taken but seeing no way off the proverbial roller coaster now that it’d started down the tracks. Boothman leaned back, satisfied that he’d caught on.
“I’d like to make it permanent,” she concluded.
---
Syler realized with no small amount of trepidation, god help him, that he’d managed to be imprinted on by a field agent. Case in point, said field agent was lounging outside the Director’s office door, leaned casually against the wall, patient as a dog waiting for his master. Syler contemplated idly whether there was anything he could do to discourage the behavior.
“Hello sweetheart.” Probably not.
Syler sighed, hitching his bag up higher on his shoulder, and started back to the operations department. “Agent Dufault,” he replied, resigned to the man falling into step beside him like an unshakable blond shadow.
It wasn’t that he disliked the agent, Syler reflected. He just wasn’t sure what to make of him. Trying, the Director had said. ‘Overwhelming,’ Syler thought.
Perhaps it was to be expected, he considered. All of the field agents were adaptable, seamlessly adjusting to the demands of their environment least a misstep got them killed. Still, Dufault seemed to be something else entirely. Larger than life, always on, a deluge in human form. The man never seemed to break rhythm. Charismatic and overly familiar one moment, and a consummate professional the next. He slipped from enthusiastic flirtation to clinical detachment and back again so smoothly that it wasn’t until it was over that Syler could take stock of the damage. It was as though he’d been an agent for so long that he’d forgotten how to turn it off and be a proper person again.
It all left Syler off balance and on edge, never quite comfortable despite the easy back and forth between them. He couldn’t tell what was serious and what was for show, and that left Syler feeling defensive. To be told that this was Dufault when he’d developed a preference…
“Penny for your thoughts?” the man asked, pulling Syler abruptly from his musings. He glanced over at him, wrong footed. The taller man leaned in close to him, reaching around to open the door to the operations branch, and Syler was suddenly aware that they’d arrived at his department. He shook his head and stepped passed Dufault. “Come on, what’d Boothman want? If it left you speechless, I have to know.”
Syler huffed. “Apparently, I’m being punished.”
Arthur blinked. “For what?” He looked prepared to defend Syler’s honor. Touching, but also terrifying.
“Competence,” he replied, setting his bag down at the command desk and moving to review the files that had come into his inbox while he was away. The desk was honestly too small for both command and bureaucracy to coexist. He’d only just managed to clear the thing before he’d left for that meeting. Arthur fixed him with a questioning look. Syler sighed. May as well rip the bandage off.“I’ve been permanently assigned to act as your handler.” He paused. “Whenever convenient,” he amended.
“Ah.” Arthur grinned, slow and pleased, rocking back on his heels and settling his hands into
