Evenfall (19 page)

Boyd looked over, absently tightening the belt across his lap. His eyebrows twitched down faintly. "Why?"

"To observe you."

"Obviously," Boyd said mildly. "You didn't initially observe me, though. What changed?"

"I figured you'd be dead by now. It's surprising and I'm very rarely surprised."

Boyd watched Sin for a moment, trying to get a read on the man and, as always, coming up with so many conflicting signals that he may as well have drawn a blank. He didn't think he would ever get used to the enigma that Sin represented.

Since it was one of the few times Sin seemed to be talking to him in some form without it being laced with barbed insults or sarcastic pet names that irritated Boyd to no end, it made him consider the comment a little more seriously.

"What do you think, then?" Boyd realized that he actually was curious about what Sin thought of his performance.

Conversation was a relatively new development, especially since little had changed between them since the first mission. Still, Boyd had realized quickly that if this partnership was going to function on any level, he had to put in more effort to at least appear to be reasonable.

In truth, Sin couldn't be blamed for having thought poorly of Boyd based on that first mission. After his anger had cooled, he'd realized he hadn't performed impressively. So Boyd acted more social and agreeable, even during times when he felt like being contrary instead. It seemed to be the best course of action to encourage Sin's cooperation.

"I think that you're less likely to die as easily as I first thought," Sin replied cryptically and unhelpfully. That seemed to be the end of his analysis until a smirk crossed his full mouth and his green eyes flicked over to Boyd. "Until we're assigned a mission that requires a lot of combat, anyway. The likelihood of you surviving a storm on your own is slim to none."

"It's possible I would surprise you on storms as well," Boyd replied, mostly as a reason to keep Sin talking. "Although, the difficulty of such missions
is
why we're supposed to be partners..."

Sin returned his stare to the road and didn't reply.

Boyd waited a few moments to see if Sin would respond and it quickly became obvious he didn't intend to say anything. Still, Boyd didn't look away. In the past he may have let it drop but the fact that Sin had been talking to him at all made him reticent to give up this chance to understand at least something about the other man.

"Why are you still so resistant?" Boyd asked, eyebrows drawing down slightly while he searched Sin's expression for any hint of what he was thinking. "The issues that arose on the first mission haven't been repeated. I understand that we didn't have a good first impression and you haven't had the best track record with previous partners but I'm not them. I don't understand what I've personally done to warrant you being so unwilling to cooperate."

This time when Sin's vivid green eyes flicked over to him, there was a definite surprised element to his typically bland expression. His lips parted slightly, dark eyebrows drawing together slightly. After a moment he shrugged his broad shoulders. "Oh, I don't have a reason. I'm just making this up as I go because I'm insane and all of that."

Boyd gave Sin an unmoved look. "We both know that isn't true. If you don't want to answer the question, say so. There's no need to lie."

The other man's mouth quirked up slightly. He seemed to debate not answering because he was silent for a long moment, his long fingers loosely wrapped around the steering wheel as he drove. In the end, he seemed to find no reason not to reply although his expression had quickly returned to its typical unreadable state.

"For someone who allegedly was content to stare blankly at people and not talk for the better part of their training, you are certainly chatty at the moment."

Boyd shrugged. He shifted his feet in front of him, stretching them out and trying to readjust his position so it put less pressure on his pained ribs.

"I don't see the point in talking for the sake of talking, and prior to today I had little to say to you." He tilted his head enough to look over at Sin sidelong, his expression impassive and tone simple. "You seemed content to ignore or belittle me and I had nothing to contribute to that."

"Well, I still don't particularly like you, if that helps you in shutting up."

"That's fine. I don't particularly like you, either," Boyd said, unperturbed.

His back was continuing to bother him and he finally reached down to let the seat fall back into a more reclined position. It helped a little bit but he was going to have to visit the med wing just to make sure he hadn't acquired anything more than unpleasant bruises.

"However," Boyd added idly as an observation, "for someone with a reputation of being unafraid of confrontation, it's interesting that you keep evading simple questions."

Sin scoffed and accelerated as they moved into a higher speed limit zone. "I don't need to answer to you or explain my reasoning to you. I don't have any desire to even have a conversation with you. It's not my problem how curious you are."

Boyd looked at Sin sidelong, studying his features. Sin looked wholly unimpressed and when it became evident that he wasn't going to say anything further, Boyd looked away. He tilted his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, letting silence fall between them.

He thought about how Sin had actually talked to him for a change and then how obvious it was that he was no longer interested. He still didn't understand the man. But this was the first time he'd had a glimpse of something that he thought, given enough information, he could eventually figure out. And while on one level it only created more questions, it also showed that maybe there would eventually be some answers involved as well.

The rest of the nearly hour long trip was spent in silence which neither of them bothered to break. Boyd had no interest in forcing conversation on someone and he had nothing to talk about anyway. The few times Boyd glanced at Sin out of the corner of his eye, the senior agent's expression wasn't any more readable than it typically was and it didn't take long for Boyd to stop looking at all.

When they returned to the Agency, the usual routine played out; Sin left without appearing to have any intentions of writing a report, and Boyd wrote and submitted his report immediately. Boyd visited the med wing and was told that there was nothing permanent; just some bruises and stretched muscles.

When he left the med wing and started across the courtyard, he got the usual curious and sidelong stares. As he left, he received notice that the debriefing would be in a few hours.

===

The room was surprisingly comfortable, with high-backed chairs that didn't squeak no matter the abuse they took. An opaque dark glass table commanded the center of the room, shining in the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. There was a touchscreen computer embedded at the head of the table which was used for typical functions as well as control of the projected holographs that at times erupted from the center of the table. It was a useful tool and one that was utilized in the discussion of specific people, locations and maps.

Five people sat around the table, the same who had attended each debriefing before. The unit Boyd and Sin were involved with was highly confidential, to the point that other than Marshal Connors, Boyd's mother and Sin, there was probably no one else other than those in the room who even knew what truly happened on the missions.
While the entire organization was clandestine to the highest degree, the Janus unit was cloaked even from other operatives for fear of a double agent giving information to Janus' elusive leaders. While the other divisions in the Agency dealt with terrorism,
Intel
gathering and other special operations, the priority of the Marshal and the powers that be was clearly putting a stop to Janus.

Boyd sat up straight in his chair as he stared blankly at the screen. As usual, General Carhart sat at the front of the table, speaking to Jeffrey the analyst, whose black hair was always perfectly pressed like his suits. He always seemed to have a briefcase with him, which held his touch panel and sometimes stacks of paper when an analysis required it.

There were two people in charge of tracking the rebel movements, a formidable job on its own without counting the fact that with Janus being worldwide they had to have international as well as domestic contacts.

Ryan was as talkative as ever. He was easily the nerdiest person that Boyd had met at the Agency so far. During a briefing, he was not above making chit chat about the newest MMO he was playing online, hacker forums he frequented or anime series he liked. General Carhart often showed impatience with Ryan's apparent ADHD but despite that, there seemed to be a closeness between the two.

It wasn't surprising that people found it hard to find fault with Ryan. He was shorter than average at 5'5" and extremely skinny. With his unruly black hair that stuck out wildly in a mess of cowlicks and curls, thick rimmed square glasses and wide indigo eyes, he looked more like a geeky teenager than a twenty-five year old genius who'd been born and bred on the compound.

At the moment, Ryan was typing away on a large, outdated-looking laptop while simultaneously sliding his thumb across a touch panel and diverting his attention between the two.

The other R&D agent, Owen, looked nearly a decade older than his counterpart. He always looked as though he had just woken up and forgot to put his clothes on properly. His messy, curly red hair was usually in danger of covering half his eyes and his shirts were perpetually wrinkled and untucked.
He was leaning against the table looking extremely tired, yawning widely every few seconds. He rubbed at his dark brown, nearly black eyes and slumped down, as unprofessional as ever.

Carhart nodded at Jeffery and briefly glanced down at the touch computer. They'd just gone over the details of the mission and the debriefing was drawing to a close. They were never the most interesting of affairs, especially when there was nothing immediate for follow up.

"I'll have the analysis ready in a few days," Jeffrey was saying as he set his touch panel down and looked over at Carhart. "It will take some time to sift through all the data to find usable
Intel
."

"Is it possible there isn't anything of use at all?"

Jeffrey nodded. "That's always possible, especially when the enemy gets forewarning that they're being looked into by an unknown group." He didn't look at Boyd but his stiff tone made it clear that it was a slight against Boyd for the first mission. "But I won't know until I look through everything. They may have felt safe outside the city."

The General inclined his head and pushed his chair back. "Report to me immediately when you're done. We'll reconvene when we have more information unless something else comes up." That being said, he logged out of the computer and left the room as he typically did.

"Geez, he's always in a rush these days," Ryan commented, making a face.

"He could be outrunning a curse," Owen offered, furrowing his eyebrows and looking at Ryan with a frown. "Do you think that's what's going on?"

Jeffrey paused as he logged out on his touch panel, and shot Owen an annoyed stare. "That's easily the stupidest thing you've said this week."

"Just this week?" Owen asked, looking over at Jeffrey with mild surprise. "What'd I say last week? Was it something awesome and enlightening?"

"Stop being such an imbecile." Jeffrey glared at Owen and opened his briefcase with sharp movements. "I'll never know how someone like you made it into a unit like this. Some of us had to actually work for it." He looked at Boyd pointedly to include him in the comment before he looked down to shove the touch panel into his briefcase.

Boyd didn't respond. It hadn't taken long to determine that Jeffrey seemed to have a problem with a lot of things and that he didn't think Boyd had good reason to be in the unit. Other people seemed to share the sentiment as well, though luckily not Owen or Ryan.

"No really," Owen said, peering at Jeffrey with interest. He seemed to have woken up a bit with this topic. "Maybe I was sleepwalking at the time? I don't remember any cool conversations." He considered it seriously before adding, "Oh! Unless I was telling you the story about my dream, but if you actually believed I sprouted wings made of spatulas and could fly..."

Jeffrey only seemed to get further irritated by the answer and Boyd looked away as he went to gather his things. Those two seemed to bicker during most of the meetings, with Owen's seeming obliviousness only fueling Jeffrey's tense irritation. Still, despite the fact that Jeffrey seemed to think Owen was a complete idiot half the time, Boyd didn't believe it was the case.

Although Owen seemed slovenly and perpetually half-asleep, and although he often went on tangents that seemed disconnected with reality, he was good at his job and seemed to truly know the information he presented. Boyd suspected that it wasn't really that Owen was an idiot or believed most of what he was saying; he may have just had an offbeat sense of humor. Sometimes Boyd thought he detected that Owen simply seemed to enjoy being odd or teasing Jeffrey, perhaps even more because Jeffrey always responded.

Either way, Boyd didn't have much interest in staying around for no reason so he moved to stand.