Fifteen minutes later, Agent Dufault let out a low whistle, forced to concede he was a bit impressed. It did nothing to stop his ribbing, though his tone was decidedly more friendly.
“Shame you weren’t in the field with me,” he crooned, watching raptly as the files containing information on Shevchenko’s dealings displayed on the command station monitors. The potential for a successful outcome in the face of setbacks bolstered his mood. “Would’ve shaved months off the deployment.”
Syler hummed an agreement, already mentally preparing a report for the Director. “I’ll be sure to outfit you with an earpiece on your next retrieval outing. If you can behave yourself, I might just be able to walk you through the process remotely without hanging up.”
“Earwigs aren’t terribly on trend for deep cover, I’m afraid. Too loud, too large, too obvious.”
“I’ve recently finished a new design that fits undetectably into the ear canal and shuts off all transmissions with a tap for discreetly passing through electronic security screenings. Say please and it’ll be in your next kit.”
“Sweetheart, I think we’re going to get along beautifully.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere. Now shoo, some of us have work to do.” He paused, eyeing Arthur’s pocket. “And put that back. It’s not for you.”
Arthur grinned his way out of the department, pocket bereft one nicked prototype, but day substantially improved.
Four
The data from Shevchenko’s laptop did, indeed, prove fruitful, salvaging months of work on the agency’s part and leaving a tidy package of clean up work for the military to handle. Agent Dufault, in his opinion, received little thanks for this, as his next assignment was as a security detail for an Ambassador in a hot zone that amounted to little more than babysitting. Director Boothman, ever the clairvoyant, beat back any protests.
“Consider it a paid vacation,” she stated, passing him the file. “If you get bored and need something to do, make sure you don’t sleep with anyone important.”
“Including the Ambassador himself?” he quipped back, unable to resist prodding the Director’s buttons whenever he could. Honeypot missions were part and parcel of intelligence gathering, and his, he would proudly admit, were some of the most fruitful in the department. That she was tacitly forbidding it now spoke volumes about how routine this particular diplomatic milk run was going to be. Boothman fixed him with an exasperated look; he shamelessly waggled an eyebrow in return.
“You’re a pox on this department, Dufault, and I’m half-tempted to reassign you to the mailroom.”
“You’d miss me too much if you sent me to the pit, ma’am.”
“Six months on a different continent didn’t do it. Report to operations for your equipment distribution. Dismissed.” He waved a jaunty salute in reply, mocking from anyone else, but he and Boothman had worked together for too long for any real offense to be taken.
And if he smiled charmingly at the Director’s secretary on his way out, blue eyes twinkling in her direction, folder tucked neatly under his arm, well, that was just to keep in practice.
---
“Oh, you’ve come back again,” Syler announced from his position at the command desk, back turned towards Arthur. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Can’t I just come to enjoy the artistry of the agency’s latest talent acquisition in action?” Today’s tie was especially garish, Arthur noted absently, a shockingly bright blue patterned thing that really should qualify as a war crime.
Syler rolled his eyes, pulling up the agent’s dossier on one of his monitors. “Shameless flattery really doesn’t impress me.” One of the junior officers three desks over snorted, quickly covering it with a polite cough. Arthur flashed her a winning smile and winked; Syler ignored them both. “Dubai, then,” he noted, turning in the direction of the armory. “Come along, Agent Dufault. You’ll need a few things.”
Arthur hummed, rolling back playfully on his heels, before following the other man out of the main room. The armory was to field agents what a candy shop must be to a small child. Perhaps he could convince the younger man to send him out with a few extras…
“Glock 19,” Syler announced, passing over the delightful rack of modified sidearms and to the agency’s latest standard issue of choice. “And six expanded capacity magazines, which I expect to be returned equally full given the relatively low risk assessment of this assignment.” Arthur most assuredly did not pout.
“I do so miss the specialty Sigs,” he began, eyeing his former darlings, neatly racked to the left. “I don’t suppose—”
“No, now sign the outtake form.”
Ah, yes, paperwork. The glamorous life of an international spy. “You know, the Colonel just trusts that I’ll bring things back.”
Hazel eyes darted away from the locker of communications equipment to fix him with a baleful look. “Then I won’t need to worry about whose pay I’m docking to make up for the hole in my budget, as this will most assuredly come back to me unharmed.”
“So feisty for someone so recently eligible for a driver’s license.” Arthur accepted the bulky ear piece, also standard fare, dissatisfied. “I recall I was promised your latest innovation last time.”
“You’ve yet to say please and that is standard issue for the Ambassador’s security detail whom you’ll be coordinating with. Compatible tech is a helpful start. I’d let them outfit you, but then it wouldn’t come with a wireless bridge to our device as well. Sign,” Syler opened the topmost drawer, reaching for a thin box without pause. “Now. Say please.”
“Please, sweetheart, do show me your marvelous improvements.”
“Better.” He flipped open the lid, box marked light beige #3. “Yes, that should match well enough. Try it on.” The earwig was half the size of a penny, and nearly as thin, thoughtfully tinted for added discretion. Arthur slipped it into his right ear, space to spare for the standard issue piece to fit over it.
“It has the looks, but does it work?” He questioned, grin all charm.
Syler tapped his right ear before speaking.
