All characters are at least 18 years old.
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"Hey, Tony."
"Morning, Miss R. What'll it be?"
"Four racks of lamb, with mint on the side."
Tony let me past and into the walk-in freezer. I made my way to my office, where Alain waited. He was beaming today, standing next to my desk with his back to Artemis's enclosure.
"
Bonjour, mademoiselle.
An auspicious day,
non?
"
I chuckled, giving him a weary smile. "Graduation? To most, I suppose. Everybody else is probably celebrating high school leading to the rest of their lives." I shrugged as I sat down and he handed me a file he was holding. "For me, I guess I could celebrate high school no longer holding me back from the rest of mine."
Alain gave me one of his enigmatic smiles before speaking. "Will university be of more use to you,
mademoiselle?
"
I withdrew the contents of the file, holding the pages as I leafed through them. "To an extent. We deal with people in this business. It's not something you can learn in the classroom. All college will be is another environment to meet new kinds of people, though I'm afraid the diversity of profiles I will encounter will be... limited."
"Agreed,
mademoiselle.
Students belonging to fraternities and sororities 'ave simpler wants."
"And are thus more easy to read and manipulate," I finished.
"Not to say that they 'ave no complexity to them," Alain reminded. He wanted to make sure I neither overestimated myself, nor underestimated any potential threats.
"Maybe. Still, I doubt that crowd will be much trouble. I'm going to community college, remember. Won't be many big fish there. It's just a front for me, to maintain appearances."
I turned my attention back to the files. More stuff on August. His father was an Army Ranger, killed in action. The widow was already pregnant with August, and she eked out a modest upbringing for her son. He'd had heart problems since he was a kid-- Wait, what the fuck? I frowned at the paperwork. A weak heart? How did he make it into the military? I read on. Ah, heart transplant. And this is where the mysterious benefactor began getting involved.
One wouldn't think somebody who'd gone through a heart transplant could join the Marines a year later. That was a string pulled. Transfer to Delta Force. Could be another string pulled. A swift probation upon joining SWAT. Yet another string pulled. But to what end? Upon initial judgement, the only motivation I could come up with was emotional. This guy mattered to somebody. Only question was who. His dad was dead, his mom was a nobody. None of his other kin was of any import.
"That's it?" I asked Alain as I went through the last of the documents. There had to be something, anything that explained how August remembered something that happened to me. Otherwise, Charles had given him a script.
"
Oui, mademoiselle.
Any files 'eld by the military or the FBI will be... difficult to procure," he explained. Fair enough.
I pondered the case. The most likely culprit would be Charles, given the fact that he was setting me up with August. If not him, then it was bizarre that somebody had chosen me to be August's wife. Had to be somebody I knew. Could possibly be one of his dad's army buddies. It'd explain the amount of sway this benefactor had in the armed forces. But streamlining joining SWAT was different. Would that mean the benefactor was also in both organizations?
I groaned and rested my face in my hands. This was more difficult than usual. Normally, I'd be able to get info easily, since the people I was looking into were civilians. Military was another story.
Time to find a two-star general with a dirty secret.
That thought finally make me laugh, and I sighed and sat back, looking at the documents spread across my desk. Alain remained standing, and I gestured for him to sit. The guy acted as gentlemanly as he appeared, and sometimes it amused me to watch how he held himself. That was probably how Charles wanted me to act, I mused. It's how he tried to, as well.
But Charles was a grub in a suit. Just because he had rich and powerful clients didn't mean he didn't eat shit.
"I guess it's about time," I muttered, and Alain nodded, eloquently peering at his watch.
"Would you like me to chauffeur you,
mademoiselle?
" he offered.