Jackson Ford - Eye of the Sh*t Storm

The office in Carson is the same as before. Unchanged. It feels wrong – China Shop, the world it operates in, has been turned upside down. Such a series of events demands chaos, broken walls, physical damage. But there’s none.

Well, except for her chair. Another one gone, she thinks bitterly. Moira had acted fast there, too. Reggie doesn’t have the faintest idea how she managed to conjure up a motorised chair from the other side of the country at one in the morning, but she did. It’s not nearly as nice as any of Reggie’s previous chairs, but she’s certainly not complaining.

The video ends. An invitation to watch multiple reaction videos pops up. Reggie grimaces, closes the window. Africa stands behind her, silent, body as tense as steel wire.

“What’s our play?” she says quietly.

Moira’s voice is as calm and still as a frozen lake. Never a good sign. “We have assets in Moldova and Macedonia. They’re already working to spread as much confusion as they can online – it’s surprisingly easy to muddy the waters. In a way, I suppose we got lucky – there’s the just the one video, for now, and Teagan’s face doesn’t appear on it. Also, I wouldn’t call the eyewitnesses exactly… reliable.”

Reggie wants to tell her that just because the people under the freeway were homeless does not mean they’re unreliable, but she holds her tongue. Right now, that would be less than helpful.

Moira says, “Tell me everything.”

Reggie takes a deep breath, and does.

The Legends. The Main Street Bridge. Leo. Teagan and Annie dropping off the radar. All of it. The only part she leaves out is how Africa lied to Moira – she can read the coldness in the woman’s face, the lack of emotion, and she has a sense of what’s coming. Throwing him under the bus would not help anybody.

When she’s finished, Africa clears his throat. “Mrs Tanner – that woman, the one who took the boy. They cannot have gone far. I will take Teggan and—”

“You will do no such thing.” Tanner’s voice is a deadly whisper. “As of now, Teagan Frost is off the board.”

Reggie’s blood turns to ice.

The deal Tanner had – has – with Teagan is brutal in its simplicity. Teagan works for Tanner, and Tanner does not hand Teagan over to the government departments who want to cut her open and see what’s inside – the departments run by people who think she is more useful to them dead than alive. Teagan is not supposed to reveal what she does, to anyone, ever. Especially not on video.

“You can’t do this,” Reggie says.

For the first time, a flicker of annoyance crosses Tanner’s face. “For heaven’s sake. I said she was off the board, not in custody. Although it’s going to take every ounce of political capital I have to keep it that way – every subcommittee and review board in Washington with security clearance will want to burn me alive. And until I can pacify them, I don’t want Ms Frost near any sort of operation. At all.”

“What will you tell them?” Africa asks.

Tanner appears to weigh her words carefully. “That she’s an asset. That she saved lives. That she is the one individual with extranormal abilities who we can control, and that that means she will be more useful in the field. And she should consider herself damn lucky. If this had happened a year ago, she would already be on a plane to Texas. But things are different now.”

Her eyes find Reggie’s. “There’s a very good chance my intervention may not be enough for my superiors. They may want to take a different route.”

Reggie lifts her chin. “Those people, the ones in the camp – they’re alive because of Teagan. If she hadn’t—”

“It doesn’t matter. Don’t you understand that? We are fighting a war here, and right now, Ms Frost has made it exponentially harder for us to do so.

“As it is, her actions must have consequences. From now on, she will be continuously monitored. Location, communications, all of it. And in ways she cannot disrupt or remove. I have given her far too much leeway, and that ends now.”

It hasn’t escaped Reggie’s notice that Moira has yet to mention her, or what she did. And as if picking up on this thought, Tanner says, “Ms McCormick, you lied to me. You compromised the integrity of our operation, at the worst possible time.”

“I—”

“I am removing you from your post, effective immediately. You are no longer head of operations for China Shop.”

And there it is.

Africa sucks in a breath, grips the back of Reggie’s chair, as if steadying himself. Reggie knew it would happen quickly, but it still hits her like a punch to the gut.

“I understand,” she says, amazed at how calm she is. “I assume you’ll want me to continue to act as the systems expert for—”

“No. As of now, your clearances are revoked. You are not to participate in or advise on any missions conducted by this government. Your services are no longer required.”

This time, it’s Reggie who sucks in a horrified breath.

A demotion was expected. A punishment of some sort. But this …

She should argue. She should fight this. She is one of the best hackers in the country, and China Shop can’t possibly run itself without—

And yet even as the thought occurs, she’s questioning it. What good would protesting do? Even if she could convince Moira to let her keep her position, it wouldn’t last.

Nemila was one thing. There was a time when Reggie would have called the bond between her and Moira unbreakable. The six days they spent in that forest had forged them in steel. They were closer than friends. They were sisters.

But it’s been a long time since Nemila, and both of them have changed. She knew this, even if she didn’t want to think about it. The bond between them had become as fragile as spun glass, and the last twelve hours have shattered it. From now on, every briefing Reggie gave would be suspect. Questioned. Interrogated.

Doubted.

That’s how Moira thinks. Why continue with her, when they could hire someone almost as good – and who, more importantly, will play by the rules? Moira is nothing if not a pragmatist, and what could be more pragmatic than that?

Tanner’s face softens almost imperceptibly. “Your medical insurance with the federal government will continue for the notice period, per your contract. Your final pay cheque will still arrive. And you have your settlement from the Army, of course. You can remain in the office quarters until you find suitable accommodation. But you are not to take part in any operations, in any capacity. Am I clear?”

She does not, Reggie notices, mention that this is the third destroyed chair in two years. Her version of being generous, she supposes.

“Mrs Tanner…” Africa’s face has gone grey. “This… I don’t think…”

“Mr Kouamé.” Tanner’s attention snaps to him. “You are the only person in China Shop who obeyed orders, and worked within mission parameters. As of now, you are the acting head of operations.”

Reggie can’t stop a stunned gasp from slipping out. Africa. Head of China Shop .

But why not? Why the hell not? China Shop as it stands is finished. Paul is dead. Annie may soon follow him. Teagan is… not herself. Reggie is no longer part of anything. So why not have Africa run things? What harm could he possibly do?

She finds herself embarrassed at the thought. As if he’s an imbecile, an amateur. She has to remind herself just how far he’s come, how seriously he’s taken his new role. He’s a long way from the damaged homeless man Teagan first made contact with. He has a life now, a steady relationship, a home, a job he clearly cares about and wants to be good at.