I Have A Bad Feeling About This - Ellen (25)

Virgil could be described as an acquaintance from days gone by. Of course, he could just as easily be described as a screwed-up bastard with a sexy accent. The accent is always sexy. Don't get me started on this. But, up until he oh-so-casually approached me in the street, I had thought that the most accurate description of all for Virgil would be "dead."
That bastard was supposed to be dead! The newspapers said he was dead. The government said he was dead. The Agency said he was dead. Everyone said he was dead. And here he was, walking around, not dead! You have to be a real bastard to walk around not dead like that. And Virgil was one.
If it wasn't for that damn accent...
I'd never heard of any agency that required its members to fake their own deaths. Not any legitimate ones, anyway. I'd never heard of recruiters being watched. I'd certainly never heard of "shall we say, other recruiters." That sounded most suspicious of all. Yes, I was extremely suspicious of Virgil. I'd have been a fool not to be.
Greg was suspicious, too. He'd never liked Virgil. The accent didn't have the same effect on him. And Virgil did have this way of... oh, making you feel inferior. From "Hello, Ellen" onwards, I could feel him laughing at silly little Ellen and her silly mission. Scarlett and Gillian trying to hide in the bushes didn't really help matters. Greg even seemed willing to forego the fact that he probably thought I was a little silly, too, in order to distract Virgil's attention and keep that patronizing tone out of his voice. It didn't work, but it was nice that he tried. Nice that he tried to hide that he was angry, too. For the most part, only other recruiters can tell when a recruiter is angry and doesn't want it to show. There's a little edge in the voice. Unfortunately, Virgil and I had both been recruiters.
I hoped Greg was more angry at Virgil for having the nerve to be alive than at me for having a semi-conversation with him. I would need Greg to help me keep an eye on that screwed-up bastard. Pardon me, acquaintance from days gone by. I didn't know what he was trying to pull, but all in all it was better that he come along, because it would be much more difficult for him to pull it with both Greg and me watching his every move.
The recruits, on the other hand, would have to be kept in the dark. Virgil would be just another recruiter. I couldn't think of any other way to handle this. I didn't care that they weren't quite buying it. Bully for them.
"But you said he's dangerous," Gillian pointed out. Both of my passengers were scowling, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
"I said he could be dangerous. Everyone could be dangerous. That's why you do what I tell you. It's a lesson. An allegory. A... Zen thingy."
"A Zen thingy?" Gillian asked.
"Yeah. Problem?" I shot them a glare in the rearview mirror. They both grumbled variations on the theme of "no."
Silence followed. Terrible silence. Awkward silence. Damn it, Virgil, I thought. This was not the best way to start a mission.
"Sooo..." I drawled, terminating the gaping black hole of a pause, "Who likes car games?"
Scarlett brightened a bit. "I do!"
Gillian rolled her eyes.
"Then why don't you play one, Scarlett, while I tell Gillian that I'm sorry I snapped at you guys, but I was sort of acting on instinct."
"Which game?" Scarlet asked.
"Pick one."
"What do you mean?" Gillian ventured cautiously.
"I can't afford to look even a little bit like an idiot in front of Virgil. Virgil and I go way back, and... how shall I put this delicately?" Bastard. "I don't like him much at all."
Gillian nodded. "I don't even know him," she said, "and I don't either."
"Liked his accent though," Scarlett put in.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I could see the nondescript design of the Facade following Mustang Sally. A feeling was beginning to creep over me that led me to truly understand, for the first time, what they mean in certain movies when they say, "I have a very bad feeling about this."