The New Haven Incident - Part Fifty-Four

The man standing at his table was tall, with an athletic build not easily hidden despite the brown sports jacket he wore over his white T-shirt and blue jeans. A mop of dark, wavy hair sat atop handsome features that wore beard-scruff like an accessory. Dark eyes observed Warner. Though they appeared kind, there was considerable intensity in their regard, which immediately put Warner on guard.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

The man smiled. He slid into the booth opposite Warner. “Scott Harvey Warner,” he said in a deep voice that brought to mind surfboards and beaches. “Very nice to meet you.” He offered his hand.

Slowly, with considerable trepidation, Warner took that hand. “And you are?”

“Oh, come on, now. If you have to ask, you're not half as good as they say you are.”

Warner’s lips flickered into a brief smile. “Oliver Mendez, of the Sigma Mercenary Group.”

Oliver grinned and released Warner’s hand. “Formerly of the Sigma Mercenary Group. Handed in my resignation the minute I was out of quarantine.”

“Oh dear. Whatever shall you do now?” Warner’s tone was flat. He didn’t particularly care.

“Well,” Mendez said with a shrug, “Turns out, some of my old Special Forces buddies know people who know people. Got a job offer about three weeks ago.”

Warner tensed.

“Did you know that The Department had absolutely no units dedicated to the rescue and extraction of innocent civilians caught in biosecurity incidents caused by governmental projects? I thought that was a fucking travesty, if you’ll excuse my language.”

Warner waited and Mendez continued. “Anyway, they do now. Turns out, the bosses thought that having a department dedicated to the rescue of innocents would be an asset to, uh, The Department.”

“That’s a good idea,” Warner noted. He meant it.

Dolly arrived with the plate food – two eggs french toast and home fries – and placed it before Warner. “I’m sorry, love,” she said to Oliver in a charming southern drawl. “I didn’t expect Harvey to have company. He usually doesn’t. What can I get for you?”

“Nothing,” Mendez said, standing. “It was just a quick visit.”

“Alrighty, then.” Dolly offered him a bright smile, which he returned. Oliver waited for her to leave before exiting the booth.

“You know, you’re alright,” he said to Warner. “The rest thought you’d be pissed off.”

“Why would I be pissed off?” Warner demanded.

“Because of Agent Connors.”

Warner tensed. A cold weight dropping into his stomach. “What about Agent Connors?”

Mendez’ smile hinted at a hidden viciousness. “He’s one of mine now. A better use of his time and temperament, don’t you think?”

With a nod at Warner by way of a goodbye, Mendez removed the sunglasses that had hung on the collar of his shirt, put them on, and sauntered from the diner, leaving Warner sitting frozen in place.

Oliver had not quite gotten to his beat-up, ancient truck before Warner caught up to him. Warner grabbed him by his elbow and spun him around.

“You can’t just take one of our most effective agents off the field!” he hissed, trying to keep his voice quiet.

Mendez’ good humour vanished. He grabbed Warner’s elbow in turn. Stepping forward, he removed his sunglasses and fixed Warner with a stern glare, the steel hidden in the kindness of his eyes making itself known.

“He’s not being taken off the field,” Mendez growled. “He’s just no longer your attack dog. If you have a problem with it, I suggest you take up with the head of the Civilian Rescue Department. Which is me. So, problem, Warner?”

For a moment, Warner stared at Oliver. The contempt coming from the former mercenary was palpable. Frustratingly, there was nothing Warner could do. As head of a department, Oliver Mendez now outranked him. Releasing Mendez’ elbow, he stepped back.

Mendez remained watching Warner a moment longer, a warning in his dark gaze. Finally, Warner shook his head and looked away. Mendez had won the challenge.

“I was just doing my job, you know,” Warner said softly as Mendez once again put on his sunglasses. Mendez’ brows rose at him. “When I pulled him from Cedarwood. I mean, what was he going to do after? Flip burgers? I was just doing my job.”

“Yeah,” Mendez said. “And I’m doing mine. See you around, Warner.” Not waiting for a response, Oliver turned and opened the door of his truck. He slid into the cab and started the engine. He offered Warner a thin-lipped, mirthless smile before he pulled out of the parking space and drove away. It took everything in him not to pettily blow the man a kiss.

Warner watched the truck vanish from the diner, kicking up dust as it left. He put his hands on his hips. “Shit.”

Sebastian turned the engine off and sat for a moment on the bike, staring into the back of the shed, not really seeing it. He didn’t know why he had ridden back to New Haven City. He had just felt drawn, and so he went. Perhaps he had been looking for closure. Sighing, he slid off the bike and exited the shed, pulling the door shut and locking it as he did so. Theft out here was unlikely, and anyone who tried it with him around would soon regret it, but Sebastian had an abundance of caution.

Still musing to himself, he walked to the front door of the cabin. He paused, the key hovering near the mouth of the lock, his mind suddenly honing in on something he had seen as he walked past the flowerbed under the cabin window. He stepped backwards and turned his head to the flowerbed.

He had not imagined it.

There, nestled amongst the bright red of the wild rose hips that had replaced the flowers, was a familiar shape. Red, with large eyes on a round face, with a bizarrely shaped body and overly long arms; it was Claudio.

Sebastian walked to the flower bed and pulled the stuffed toy out of it. Claudio had a bad burn on one side of his body that had melted the short, soft fur into a hard line of plastic, and a small tear on one of his arms at the shoulder that had been lovingly mended, but there could be no mistaking the toy. But Claudio had been lost in the flight from New Haven. There was no way it managed to escape the bombing, unless…

That meant…

Sebastian stepped back, turning to look around, seeking some sign of her. But there was nothing; just the hum of insects trying to make the best of the last of the year’s warmth, and a cold breeze rustling what remained of the dry leaves still on the trees. His heart aching with a bloom of hope, Sebastian took Claudio and entered the cabin. He kicked off his shoes and walked, as if in a dream, to his bedroom. He sat on the bed, holding Claudio in his lap, staring at it.

His hand trembled as he reached out and gently touched the head of the stuffed toy. Sebastian shook his head in disbelief. He pulled Claudio close, wrapping his arms around the toy, and let himself fall to his side on the bed. Pulling his legs into his chest in a foetal position, Sebastian closed his eyes.

He smiled.

Fin.

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