Through the Triangle - Ellen (40)

Well, shit.
That was the only thing that went through my head, really, as I read my mission report thing. You'd think it would have been more eloquent, or at least just... more, but that was it: Well, shit. I didn't bother with "We're going to diiiiieeeee!" because an agent is trained not to think like that. There's always a chance you could die on a mission. If it happens, it happens. No need to waste brain cells panicking. Should death be in the cards, let death come. Life goes on. For everyone else, anyway.
In extreme situations-- and I've been in a few, so I know it goes-- an agent simply thinks, "Huh. Well. There's a good chance I might die here today." And, if the timing is inconvenient, "Damn." No dread, no absolute terror, just a detached, matter-of-fact realization. The first time it happened to me, that in itself scared me more than the creatures trying to gnaw through my shoes-- the detachment.
And don't get me wrong, I enjoy a challenge. It's part of what makes me one of the best at what I do. But perp 231776pp#I... not cool, guys. Not cool at all. It would take a lot of fancy maneuvering, I knew that immediately. The place was legendary for the sheer number of people who had not maneuvered fancily enough. And it would be even tougher with a bunch of new recruits. I wondered if Virgil had anything to do with it, or maybe Greg had gotten into the files and messed with things. I really hoped Greg didn't hate me that much. But of course that would have been enormously stupid of them, since they were going through with me. And neither of them were stupid, so I dismissed the idea.
I led the recruits through the door-- or, as it was known around the deceptively named North Pole Triangle Ops Base (popular lore is that the guy who named it was confused and they tried to cover it up by founding the Creative Naming and Coding Division, thus forever translating South to North and vice versa in all Agency business), the Portal-- and into the Vessel that would take us through the Triangle. The vessel was shaped like a triangle, a pyramid actually, and very white. Very clean. Very shiny. The kind of atmosphere that makes you want to sit quietly and hope you don't get probed. Or, sometimes, tapdance. Or, again, smuggle a boombox in. Or maybe a band, although that would be harder. I bet you'd get killer acoustics in that thing.
"What falls in the shadows?" I asked the group once we were inside, and they chorused the answer.
"Society's pants." But they looked pretty nervous, especially the kids. I had no words of comfort. We weren't exactly going to Disney World, here. I told them the journey would take about a half hour and pointed Gill and Ian in the direction of Marcus and the training room where they'd learn to use their scanners. Then I sat down with a People magazine.
I didn't read the People magazine. I couldn't concentrate. I took out my paperback of Pride and Prejudice. I stared at it. I looked up at Greg, being very Darcy-esque with his arms crossed and looking too cool for the Triangle. I put it the book away. I took out the People again. I sat down next to Greg. I waited three minutes. I leaned over and whispered, "Just so you know, it's 231776pp#I." If I hadn't been a recruiter, I wouldn't have been able to tell he was extremely surprised. But I was a recruiter, and he certainly was surprised.
"What did you say?" Scarlett asked from across the room. "No secrets. You can't treat him different just because you know him."
Virgil smiled like a jackass. "Yes, Ellen, what were you telling him?"
I returned the fake smile with ease. I wasn't facing him; my eyes were steadily locked on Scarlett's. But the smile was all for him. "I said, 'Jennifer Lopez got married again, you owe me a pie.' We have this bet going."
"Oh." That seemed to satisfy Scarlett.
But Virgil would not loose that irritating smile, like he knew exactly what I'd said, and what I was thinking, and that I thought he was a jackass and just didn't care. That jackass.
Nothing else was said until the vessel jerked to a halt. Ian, Gillian, and Marcus returned. The doors slid open, and I once again heard that little detached voice in my head say, "Huh. Well. There's a good chance I might die here today. Damn."