I shook my head. I didn’t have that much time now. I crossed to the stairs heading up to Wu’s office. Before I could reach the first step, a voice rang out cold and clear across the hall.
“This way, Sorcerer Agent Marquez.” Director Wu waited, tall and imperious, near the departure rooms at the far end of the hall. She wore crisply pressed tan slacks, flats, and a high-collared red blouse under a narrow-waisted gray suit jacket. The silver R.U.N.E. director’s pentagram shone above her left breast.
“I thought you’d debrief me in your office,” I said when I reached her. She briefed me there before the Peoria assignment. Being a short girl, I had to crane my neck to look up at her.
“We’re going to cut to the chase this time.” She turned and led me to one of departure rooms. I couldn’t decide whether my heart should lift or sink at this. The teleportal could lead to my next assignment, or it could lead back to the Silos, or worse, the Library.
The teleportal waited at the far end of the room, a pinewood door surrounded by a silver sculpture of a dragon. An office desk with accompanying manager’s high-backed chair behind it stood next to one wall. A pair of steel folding chairs that had seen better days faced the desk. Gorilla shelving lined the opposite wall, filled with boxes, crates and bins. A couple of guards flanked the teleportal. A man in a cardigan sweater and tweed slacks stood in front of the shelving, ticking off items on a list on his clipboard.
Wu perched in the high-backed chair. She nodded at a folding chair. I took the hint and sat.
Her gaze raked me. “You wore that to Peoria?”
“Sure. I like black.” I always wore my motorcycle jacket, with the silver boot chain which came in handy when a manifestation wouldn’t do as told. My black tube top and black jeans matched it. Like I said before, I wish I’d have worn my Docs but they’d needed some repair after the previous “temporary” assignment.
Wu crossed her arms and shook her head. “We have much more appropriate fashion sets for you then “biker chick.” Her voice was sour.
I waved my arms. “Field ops approved me,” I said.
“Field ops needs to be spoken with.” We’d had this conversation at least a dozen times since I’d been put under her command, pending a permanent assignment. Apparently, she never tired of ragging on my fashion choices.
Wu was a by-the-book sort. It hadn’t been fun getting lectured by her after I arrived from the Silos. Not just once, but a one-on-one six-week procedures course, three hours a day. Definitely not my idea of a fun time.
I shrugged. “Our cover is a wacky non-profit,” I pointed out, which was stupid, because she knew all that. But hey, she started it. “We’re supposed to be investigating the folklore and fairy tales, right?” R.U.N.E.’s cover was Research for Unknown Native Ethnography, a private UNESCO-like-non-profit supposedly filled with starry-eyed, earnest “the truth is out there” types, rather than a private supernatural organization dedicated to keeping magic in line.
“The cover is only to be used if local law enforcement or the media confront you, or it’s necessary for a particular mission. It wasn’t necessary here. A low profile was.” Her tone went acidic. “You broke your mission’s parameters in Peoria, Sorcerer-Agent Marquez. You ignored the orders of Sorcerer-Agent Kirk.”
“Nancy and I were partners,” I said. “She’s not senior to me.”
Wu tapped a slender finger for emphasis. “One, she’s senior to you in terms seniority—she’s worked for R.U.N.E. since before you were born. Two, she’s the agent-in-charge for this assignment. Three, you were temporarily attached to the Midwest office.”
I repressed a shiver at the implication in the word temporarily.
“We took down Burt,” I said. “That was the point of the exercise, wasn’t it?” The Midwest office had been after him for months, easy, from what I’d gathered. For a hulking brute, he’d been really hard to find. As usual, R.U.N.E. couldn’t muster enough agents to make a full sweep. There was always something else that needed attention, too.
“You nearly turned a surveillance into a front-and-center disaster,” Wu snapped. “Six humans were killed, others wounded.”
I looked away for an instant, stomach rolling “But they were all bad,” I replied, quoting a line from my mother’s favorite movie.
“If you mean they were criminals working for a murderous manifestation, yes, but we are not, and I emphasize this in the starkest, most blindingly obvious fashion I can, so that even you will understand, we are not vigilantes. We are R.U.N.E. agents. Am I clear about this?”
I felt about two inches tall right then, like I was back in the Academy and Maxwell Dark was pounding procedural law into us.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She tapped her fingers and gave me a hard look. “Both numbers could have been much higher, too.”
“I freed six women from captivity.”
She inclined her head in acknowledgement. “That you did. We would have swept the building after Burt had left.”
“But what if he’d taken the women with him. Would you have followed?”
“That’s why you and Kirk were on surveillance,” she said, tone acidic.
“We were there. That was the time to act.”
Wu bit back a reply, tapped her fingers together, slowly, as she regarded me.
“Your reassignment to field work is on a probationary basis, Ms. Marquez. Tonight’s reckless behavior is more than enough to end it.”
I kept my mouth shut. It had only been a month since I’d been back in the field.
Her gaze could have made a dragon blink. “I’ll repeat myself. You are on probation in a field agent capacity. Despite any friends you might have in this organization, and any goodwill your actions in the Silos
