Jackson Ford - Eye of the Sh*t Storm

That image again: brown teeth in a pinched, ugly face. Meth mouth . I squeeze my eyes shut, tears leaking from them. My throat feels like a straw that’s been left outside in the hot sun, shrivelled and kinked.

Then we’re outside. I’m wearing my jacket. There’s an ID around my neck. I have no memory of putting either of them on. The clouds on the northern horizon have gotten darker, despite the sun still burning high in the sky.

“Reggie, come in,” Annie is saying. “You got anything for us?”

I don’t even realise Annie put a comms unit in my ear until Reggie’s voice comes over the group channel. “Nothing. Security cams are fried across the storage unit, and I’m not getting anything useful from the surrounding buildings. Nothing on traffic, no online chatter, nothing on the secure channels. Whatever this is, nobody’s seen it before.”

“What about the dude who called it in? The caretaker or whatever?”

“They took him to the hospital. We can follow up later, but I want you to check out the scene first.”

“You cannot put electricity in concrete,” Africa says. His jacket is both enormous and somehow still too small for him.

Over , I think. You should say “Over” at the end of each transmission . Paul insisted on it. None of us ever listened to him, not even Annie.

“Reggie,” Annie says quietly. “Are we absolutely sure this is a…” She flicks a glance at me. “You know. A Teagan situation. Someone like her.”

I don’t have the energy to tell her that calling it a Teagan situation is kind of rude. I don’t think actually I’m able to speak.

“Because maybe there’s just a…” Annie scratches her head. “Shit, I don’t know a fault or something. A loose wire that’s—”

“Ain’t no loose wire causing this. But right now, there’s no way to be sure – not without any footage or eyewitnesses to confirm. You folks are on observation duty. Local law enforcement’s not equipped to deal with this – they don’t even know people like Teagan exist.”

Which may change, after my little stunt in the storm drain, but whatever.

“But if it is a person, then why?” Africa tugs at his jacket cuff. “Why electrify an entire building? For what?”

“Honey, I have no idea,” Reggie replies.

“Is it a hostage thing?” Annie asks.

“No. There’ve been no demands, no anything. Just an electrified building. Now listen – Moira’s asked to be connected directly.”

Ah. The only thing that could make this day worse. Having Moira Tanner see what we see, and listen to our every word. Another burst of hot, staticky paranoia: if Tanner finds out that I’m high, what will she do?

Reggie isn’t finished though. “But it looks like there are some problems with the connection in Washington. She’ll join us when she’s able.”

“Problems?” Annie bites her lip. “Reggie, you don’t think—?”

“I’m running diagnostics now. Chances are, it’s just a glitch, but we have to assume the worst.”

“What do you want us to do?”

“Proceed with the mission. And one more thing: Africa’s on point for this job. Moira’s request.”

There’s a second of stunned silence. Then Annie says, “I’m sorry, what the fuck ?”

“Eh.” Africa glares at her, looking both offended and pleased at once.

I don’t hear Reggie’s response. The comedown is doing horrible things to my sense of time, because suddenly we’re across the street and heading for the police line. Blue and red, the lights piercing my brain.

Annie approaches one of the uniformed cops, a middle-aged, heavyset dude with a bad goatee. He shouts at her to keep back, then blinks when she holds up the FBI identification. What are we going to do if the real feds show up? Then again, maybe Reggie and Tanner will keep this off their radar…

Another skip forward. Africa is bending down, hissing at me to get it together. Which is a bit like telling a broken egg to fix itself. Annie is in conversation with a detective, a woman with cornrows and a gold badge hanging down over her black polo.

“And you haven’t been inside?” Annie is saying. She sounds pissed.

“Can’t even get close.” Like Annie, the detective has a slight Latinx accent.

“What about drones? I know LAPD got a few – shit, even something from your evidence lockup—”

“You think we ain’t tried that?” The detective runs a hand down her face, looking tired and confused. “Most of the building is normal inside. Couple small fires, but that’s it. But when we got to the second floor, the drone… went down.”

The detective looks over at me, her gaze lingering. Probably thinking that I look mighty out of it for an FBI agent. Also that I don’t actually look like an FBI agent in the slightest, despite the windbreaker.

“Detective, we don’t have time for this,” Annie says. “What do you mean it went down ?”

“It’s not really clear on the tape. There’s this shadow, from something just out of camera view. Then bam. No control, no video, nothing. Listen, if the FBI are assuming command then—”

Aaaaand fast-forward.

No cops any more. I think we’re on the other side of the building, in an empty parking lot. I’m sitting down with my back against something – a car? I don’t know – and Annie and Africa are having one mother of an argument.

“—way she can do that.” Annie jerks a finger at me. “She can barely stand up. Look at her fucking pupils, man!”

“We cannot go in there ourselves,” Africa says, scowling. “We cannot even get near it. I am in command of this mission, and—”

“I don’t give a shit, bro. She’s done. You think she’s gonna be able to just stand outside and echolocate what’s in there?”

“We know she has good range. We have seen it, yes?”

“Listen, jackass, I’ve been doing this longer than you. I don’t care if you’re Tanner’s new flavour of the month – you don’t understand how Teagan’s shit works. Yeah, she’s got range – if she’s in good shape, or if her body goes into fight-or-flight.”

Or if I’m high . I feel like I should mention that, but I can’t get the words out.

“So we get her into that,” Africa says. “Fight-or-flight.”

“Oh, and how you gonna do that? You gonna hit her? Shoot at her? If you even try anything…” Annie takes a breath, visibly calms herself. “It doesn’t even matter. We could have her fly a camera in there and it’d just be the same as the drone. Zap.”

“But we have to confirm. I have orders from Mrs Tanner.”

Not we have orders. I have orders.

Why the fuck did Tanner put Africa in charge? It’s not that he can’t do it – he’s more than proven himself since he joined the team, despite his category-five-hurricane personality. But leadership material? Running missions? While someone as seasoned as Annie is walking around?

“Orders to observe ,” Annie is saying. “Right now, I don’t observe shit.”

“And I am saying that is not good enough!”

Africa crouches down in front of me, snapping his fingers in front of my face, each one like a thunderclap. “Teggan, are you good? We need you to scan the inside.”

“Did you not hear a fucking word I just said? She’s done . We’re not making her do that. You of all people should know what a meth comedown looks like.”

Africa rounds on her. This time, he speaks slowly. Quietly.

“Do not ever speak of that to me again,” he says. “You know nothing.”

“I’ve been on these streets longer than you, jackass, you think I don’t—?”

Another time skip.