44: The Waiting Game

Paro helped set Kazou down onto his couch and then covered him with a blanket. “Just hang tight, Kazou,” he said. Michael and Sarah stayed by Kazou’s side, while Melissa forced Jack to stand still in the corner.

“Why can’t I move?” Jack grumbled. “Why do I have to stay inside this small room?”

“You can’t move until backup gets here,” Melissa answered.

Paro had placed the call to H.Q a minute after the four Psychs retreated, and as soon as he mentioned the possible link to 90-B, things had become hectic. He was transferred first to a captain, then to a Junior Commander, followed by a Senior Commander, until finally he was connected with Deven Moore. Ten minutes from now, Paro knew the place would be swarming with an abundance of people.

Jack looked over to Paro, and a brief look of understanding crossed his eyes. The boy nodded. “Paro, I was wondering if you could please explain how we operate, because I’m confused, and I should understand our actions before I judge them. I know we can’t pursue when there’s injured, but now we’re not even allowed to move from this spot?”

Paro smiled—the kid was learning. “That’s a very good question, Jack. There’s more going on here than I’m at liberty to say, but these men seem to be connected with someone who murdered an entire Op. team. See that broken window behind you?”

Jack turned. “Yeah, I can’t believe you did that, by the way. That was so cool when you sent him flying through the glass like that.”

“There’s nothing cool about this,” Sarah chided.

Paro didn’t want remember his use of kinetic force. It’d caused his entire body to tremble in pain. He still wasn’t a hundred percent recovered from his injuries, and he’d be in pain the rest of the day because of it.

“Anyway,” Paro continued, “the glass cut the man up pretty good, and there’s blood on some of the shards. Now, you see the kitchen across from you, or the broken door behind you? There’s D.N.A. on all of this. We aren’t allowed to go near or touch any of these things. First, we’ve got literally no idea who any of those people were, and there’s nothing about them on file. There are very strict protocols that concern our behavior towards unidentified suspects.”

Jack hummed to himself before responding. “How come when I first met you guys, you put me in a car and took me to that diner? Shouldn’t we have just sat around and did nothing then, too?”

“Can I get this one?” Michael asked.

Paro nodded. “Take it away.”

Michael was leaning against the wall behind the couch. He removed his hat and took a breath. “Two reasons, bud. First of all, we were in a public area, and a position that couldn’t be secured. That’s not the important one, though. What’s important is that we were already hunting down Ruin and Requiem. Our investigations take place in steps, and obviously the first step is actually being assigned the case. Also, there are degrees of how serious things are taken. Murder ain’t no joke, but those two didn’t hold a candle to what’s happening here. Now, I don’t know everything that Paro knows, but I do know there are connections here to some pretty serious stuff.”

Jack’s eyes lit with understanding. “So, would you have chased them even if Kazou wasn’t wounded? I know we can’t go after suspects if anyone’s hurt, but let’s say Kazou was just fine. Would we chase them?”

“What do you think?” Paro asked.

“I don’t think we would’ve done that. Did I get it right?”

Michael smiled. “Yeah, but can ya tell us why?”

Jack rubbed his chin, humming again. Paro was glad the boy was finally using his brain for once.

“Umm, I think I know. I’m guessing that we’re never supposed to go after people if we don’t know who they are.”

Paro tried to hide his smile. It seemed Jack wasn’t such an idiot after all, at least when he used his head. Well, Paro thought. He’s still an idiot, just one I can actually work with for once. I’d put him one step below Michael.

“Very close,” Paro said. “When we encounter Psychs that we know nothing about, we only pursue if we don’t feel they’re a threat to us. If we suspect even the slightest hint of danger, we secure the area and wait. That one girl, her Manipulation was incredibly powerful. She overwhelmed Sarah’s defenses in an instant. Had I taken her down, well, it’s possible that Melissa would’ve died in the process. But there’s more to it than that. See, we’ve been talking about things under normal conditions. These people are elevated to a special case, because not only are they possibly linked to the murder of official Psych operatives, but they’re also linked to a two-marked Psych.”

“Two-marked?” Jack asked.

“When a Psych becomes so dangerous that he or she is in a category of their own, they get a mark. It’s rare, but it happens. 90-B, the one we think these men might be linked with, well, he’s got two of them. So everything that happens involving him has to be handled with extreme care. Every action has to be considered, every piece of evidence factored in. That’s why we can’t move from where we are. We can’t contaminate the crime scene. As it is, we’ll be lucky if we get out of here by nightfall.”

Jack frowned. “Aww, man. You’re saying we’re gonna be stuck here for hours?”

“For once I agree with Jack,” Melissa said. “Do we really have to stay here all day?”

Paro gave an apologetic shrug. “They’re going to want to question each one of us separately and then together. They’re probably going to take samples from our clothing, and our skin, but it won’t end there. It would be one thing if anyone knew who these people were, but I’ve checked and there’s nothing on them at all. They’re going to want sketches, and then when they’ve done all that, each of us needs to go to H.Q to fill out reports and paperwork and the like. It’s not going to be fun. Even Kazou will have to do his share when he’s patched up.”

Jack whispered something into Melissa’s ear, and she frowned at him. “No, Jack, you can’t ‘cheat off my report.’ This isn’t school, Dammit.”

“But Melissa,” he pleaded. “I don’t wanna do any more reports or paperwork.”

Paro sighed, along with Sarah and Michael. “We can make him better,” Michael said. “But we can’t make him be anyone but himself.”

“Even if we can’t,” Paro said. “The people at the camp might be able to.”

Michael chuckled. “He’s going to hate that. I know I did, and I’m only half as lazy as he is.”

“Don’t even mention it yet,” Sarah whispered. “We’ve got bigger problems. And I don’t want to be around when Jack finds out about camp.”

Paro didn’t think Jack would overhear their conversation and get curious; the boy didn’t operate that way. As long as they didn’t mention batman or something, Paro was sure they could discuss the highest-level government secrets and Jack would be just as oblivious as if they were discussing his schoolwork.

Since meeting Jack, it seemed that everywhere Paro went ended up destroyed. Kazou’s apartment was no exception to the rule. Though not as butchered as Alana’s home, or the thoroughly trashed train station in Staten Island, it was still pretty bad. The kitchen received the worst of it, and based on Kazou’s bloody and torn knuckles, Paro ventured that he’d gone wild in there, breaking just about everything. Paro was responsible for the broken window, but that would be an easy fix; the place needed a new door, as well.

“So, umm, what do we do while we wait?” Jack asked.

“We discuss,” Paro said. “Let’s go over everything we know about that girl, the one who they call Clair. Anything we can possibly think of.”

“Oh,” Jack said. “I think I remember someone saying the name ‘Cyrus’ or something. That might be important, right?”

“Yeah,” Michael answered. “But not to us. Okay, so, back to Clair. I reckon she’s from around here. She’s got a bit of New York in her accent, and she seemed pretty comfortable being in the city. She knew exactly where to lead those three after they left.”

“She’s definitely young; I’d say younger than eighteen years of age,” Sarah said. “Fifteen or maybe sixteen tops.”

“I don’t get it,” Jack said. “What’s so important about Clair?”

Melissa tapped Jack on the shoulder, and he turned to look at her. “Did you forget?” she asked. “What our job is, I mean.”

“I remember,” he said. “We’re part of the Juvenile department.”

“That’s right,” Paro said. Jack turned back to him. “We may have just stumbled onto our next case. Our only real concern here is the one they called Clair. We’ll answer every question and cooperate with the organization in the fullest, but after that I’m going to put in a request to take on the case of our crazy little bride. If there was anyone I’d ever seen that needs our help more, I can’t think of them.”

They discussed the girl for a while, each of them recounting what they’d seen. Jack didn’t speak for a bit, his eyes cast downward in thought. Sarah and Michael argued over the girl’s possible location.

“Wait a second,” Jack said after a few minutes of quiet. “These people killed Kazou’s brother, and they were right here in front of us. We’re really not gonna do anything about it? I don’t get it.”

“Look,” Paro said, in the gentlest tone of voice he could muster. “What happened to Kazou’s brother is a tragedy, but we have different teams for different reasons. It’s not now, nor will it ever be our place to track down his killers, not unless they’re all children. I’d like you to keep that in mind for the future. Right now, Clair is our objective, and I have no doubt that I’ll receive approval to take on her case within twenty-four hours. We’ll shelve this discussion for the moment; things are about to start heating up.”

Jack opened his mouth and paused. He heard sirens approaching at great speed in the distance, followed soon after by feet slamming down on the building’s stairways. By the time the first man entered the room, Paro was ready for him.

“My name is Paro,” he greeted, “team-leader to all in this room, as well as a captain in Juvenile crime. The area has been secured to the best of our ability.”

“Understood,” the man said. He was dressed in the usual dark blue of the recon officers. The room filled in an instant; at least two-dozen men and women spread out around the apartment, taking care not to contaminate the scene.

“Area secure,” one of them radioed in. “Send forensics.”

A moment later, more men and women entered. These held bags, crates, and other types of equipment. One approached Paro; she was a slender, blond-haired woman, with stylish silver glasses hanging loosely on her face.

“Paro, my name is Katie Alvarez,” she said. She didn’t have much of an accent, but the little bit of Latino Paro was able to make out added a certain charm. “I’m leading the forensics division here.”

The woman reached into her bag, retrieving various pieces of equipment: a brush, powders, and tools that looked designed to scrape.

Several others Psychs entered the room during the process. Paro recognized some, but not all. They were all higher ranked than he was—the lowest rank that Paro spotted was a Junior Commander he’d met briefly a few years earlier. With so many bodies crowding the apartment, sweat trickled down Paro’s neck from the growing heat.

“It’s so stuffy in here,” Jack whined. “Can we please leave?”

Paro opened his mouth to answer but the forensics woman, Katie, beat him to it. “No, sir, you may not,” she said. “Not until I’ve checked you out. Then we need to pass you off to be debriefed. We’ll try to keep this as quick and painless as we can, and we’d appreciate your full cooperation in the matter, sir.”

“All right, well, I’m gonna play on my phone then.”

“No, sir,” Katie said. “You’re forbidden from making any outside contact until we’ve cleared you.”

“You better take his phone away,” Melissa said with a groan. “He’ll just use it anyway.”

A tall man in the dark blue of a recon uniform approached Jack. There was little humor in his face. “Please give me your phone, Mr. Harris.”

Jack stuck his tongue out at the man, but at the very least he complied. Paro prayed for all he was worth that Jack behaved during all of this. Otherwise, the situation would become a nightmare. Medical personnel rushed into the apartment, now cramped to capacity. Three men darted to Kazou’s side and began to care for him, while a fourth checked him for forensic samples under the guidance of Katie.

“Chairs are being brought for each one of you,” Katie said. “However, we’ll have to clear them first. The building is being evacuated, and we’re putting out a search net in the immediate area.”

“Aren’t we going a bit overboard on this?” Jack asked. “I mean, I get that these people are some serious baddies, but don’t you think they’re taking this a little too far.”

“Not at all,” Sarah answered. “Everything has to be done perfectly. One single misstep and we could be dealing with the difference of capturing these people or letting them go free. Don’t forget, every bit of evidence helps us determine who these people are, what direction they fled in, and perhaps where they’re heading.”

Chairs were brought into the apartment as promised, and for the next hour or so, Katie went around to each one of them, taking what she called ‘preliminary samples’ while her men collected evidence from every corner of the room. At one point she had them take off their shoes, and samples were collected from them as well. Paro quietly observed Jack fidgeting through it all—he was clearly trying his best to stay in line, and Paro felt proud of him for it. He’d only complained twice about the boredom.

The hum of an approaching helicopter sounded overhead, and Paro had an idea of who was coming. From the sound of it, they were going to land on top of the building, nearly thirty floors above.

“Paro,” a man said. Paro recognized him, Harold Timbers, a commander of the Investigative Department and a powerful Manipulator—one of the few that worked in Investigations and not Op.

“Commander Timbers,” Paro addressed him. “How may I be of service?” Paro looked over his shoulder and was pleased to see that Jack was daydreaming. The last thing he needed was for the boy to think he was clever and call out, ‘Shiver me timbers.’ It was definitely something he’d do.

“I’d like to get an idea of the situation from one of your team. Any recommendations?”

Paro nodded. “Take Sarah aside. She’s the most brilliant member of my team. She’ll be more than happy to assist you in any way she is able.”

Sarah left Kazou’s side and walked over Commander Timbers. “Please, come with me,” he said, leading her into the apartment hallway. One of the forensics men followed her, dusting her off even as she walked, while several of the recon officers stepped out of the way to allow her to pass.

All the activity in the room came to a stop as, seconds after Sarah stepped out, Alana and Deven entered; regardless of rank or job, all halted in their activity to offer a salute. Paro and his team followed in suit—except Jack, who looked at the two with poorly concealed worry.

“Hey,” Jack said. “I didn’t know you were coming here. Oh! Guess what I’m doing, Mom? I’m working!”

Alana slowly lowered her head and looked at him, her white coat billowing with the motion. Her lips peeled back in outrage, and she bit her lower lip.

“You!” she snapped, pointing to Jack. “You’re to refer to me as General Harris!”

Jack looked confused. He glanced around at the team as if for some hint of understanding. Paro heard the hushed voice of a recon officer behind him. “Kid must not know about the coat rule,” the recon officer whispered.

“Yeah,” another whispered back. “He just insulted a general, poor guy.”

It was obvious they didn’t know Alana was Jack’s mother—not that it would matter anyway.

Jack tapped his nose with his finger. “Umm, mom, you’ve got, like, a say in things now, right? Can you get me out of here? ‘Cause it’s really hot, and I wanna go home, and tonight there’s a new episode of—”

Jack let out a cry as he dove forward, his face hitting the floorboards with a thud. The room became even quieter. Paro winced at the site of Alana using Telekinesis to silence her own son.

“Did you just speak without my permission, boy?” She walked over to him. “Well?”

Jack growled at her, wiping the dust off his face. “Mom, what gives?”

Again Jack’s face, as if pushed by an invisible hand, was sent back into the floor. “I told you, boy, it’s General Harris. I’ll ask you again: did you speak without my permission?”

“Y-yes,” Jack answered, fear in his eyes.

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, General Mommy.”

For the third time he was pushed face-forward into the floor; even Melissa went tight-lipped at the display. Paro felt uneasy as well. He knew Alana would be tougher on him now, but he never expected her to treat him this way. She was treating him as if he were any other fresh new trainee.

Maybe that’s what he needs. Maybe she wants to treat him no different than she’d treat any other unruly young Psych.

“Yes, what?” Alana repeated.

“Yes, General Harris,” Jack said, tears forming in his eyes. “W-what did I do wrong? How come you keep doing this?”

“Did I say you could ask me a question? Answer quickly unless you want to kiss the floor with your face again.”

“No, General Harris,” Jack answered quickly.

As painful as those little slams to the floor looked, Paro knew Alana was being careful. Though Jack’s face was bruised, it was from his earlier encounter at school. Alana was a smart, careful woman—she knew what she was doing, and Paro was sure she’d be careful to frighten Jack, but not to cause any real damage. But the poor boy didn’t know that, and Paro suspected he was first realizing just how powerful a Psych his mother was.

“Good,” Alana said to him. She bent down, grabbed him by his ear, and then tugged. Jack groaned as he was pulled to his feet. “You,” she said, pointing at Katie, who snapped to attention.

“Yes, General Harris?”

“Did you get what you needed from my son?”

At this, just about every single jaw in the room fell a little. Whispers came from everywhere at once.

“That’s her son?” whispered a recon officer from the back of the apartment. “Did she just say he was her son? Alana Harris has a kid?”

Katie cleared her throat and again the room went silent. “I did get what I needed, General Harris.”

Alana nodded. “I know he’s supposed to be kept here for a while, and I don’t mean to impede your work, but I’ll be taking him with me now. I’ll make sure he shows up at your office in H.Q bright and early in the morning for questioning and reporting. Will that be okay?”

“As you wish, General Harris.”

“What time are you in?”

“Our day starts at six,” Katie said.

“Can we make it five?”

Jack cried out in agony, and for once, Paro felt bad for the kid. Jack hated waking up early, and now on top of his public humiliation, he’d be forced to get up earlier than he ever had before.

“That will be fine, General Harris.”

Jack was dragged by his ear over to Paro, and Alana grabbed him tighter. Then she pointed at Paro. Aside from the twenty or so recon officers, the few forensic specialists, and Paro’s team, there were at least ten high-ranking Psychs.

She raised her voice so that all in the room could hear. “Jack Harris,” she asked, “did you disrespect your team-leader?”

Jack choked on his words, spitting them out between tears. “Y-yes, General Harris,” he said. “I’m ... I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Sorry for what?” she asked.

“For grabbing his neck,” Jack said with a sniffle.

Harold Timbers was just returning to the room with Sarah, and both of them gasped. For Sarah, the gasp was more than likely at seeing Jack’s humiliation, and for Harold, hearing of his misconduct.

“Do you see these men and women in grey?” Alana asked. She was referring to the grey of the commander’s uniforms. “When you disrespect a single superior, you disrespect us all, from captain up to general. Apologize to all of them—now!”

Jack looked more miserable and confused than Paro had ever seen him. Alana wasn’t really hurting him, at least not in any physical capacity—though the ear tugging might have been a bit painful—but it was benign compared to what the bullies had done to him at school.

Yet now Jack was suffering a different kind of pain: the sting of unbearable shame and humiliation. Paro wondered if he should have reported the boy after all. Part of it, he knew, was because he’d been in Jack’s position himself, and more than once, too. Paro would never forget the humiliation he’d suffered at Alana’s hands. Most of it he’d deserved, as Jack did now, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch. For the first time since meeting the boy, Paro could empathize with his suffering.

“Your pardon, General Harris,” Paro said. “May I speak?” Alana nodded and Paro continued. “Jack’s behavior wasn’t as bad as I made it sound earlier, and I’ve already forgiven him. I’d like to formally repeal my earlier report and complaint, and instead consider the matter—”

“Request declined,” Alana said. “As it is, you don’t report things to your superiors enough. No, Jack will not be so easily forgiven for his actions.”

Jack sniffed, tears falling onto the floor. “M-mom, please, I’m sorry. You’re embarrassing me in front of all my friends. I’ll never do it again, I promise.”

Alana seemed to let him slide for calling her ‘mom.’ She gave him another tug on the ear. “I thought I told you to apologize.”

Jack looked around the room, at each one of the commanders; they all wore a look of disapproval, but their eyes were filled with mirth, as if they were pretending to be more upset than they really were for Alana’s sake.

“I’m … I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I didn’t mean to disrespect any of you.”

“Good,” Alana said. “Now let it be known that I don’t tolerate disrespect, and I never will. Melissa,” she called.

Melissa blinked, as if not expecting her name to be called. “Yes, General Harris?”

“I know you’ve got school in the morning. Do you want a ride home?”

“Umm, is that really okay?”

Deven laughed. “She’ll make it okay, girley, just go. Besides,” he said, looking around at the various people in the room. “Somehow I have a feeling that we’re about to discuss certain things you and the rest of your team would be better off not hearing.”

The other commander looked General Moore, and after a brief pause, each of them nodded.

“Perhaps we can break protocol for once,” an elderly woman said. Paro recognized her; she was Grace Flores, one of the oldest Psychs in the organization. She was a powerful Telekinetic, and while she was no general, even rising to Senior Commander was an impressive feat, regardless of her age.

“I suggest allowing those two to leave as well,” she said. “It will only waste time if we have to reconvene our discussions elsewhere on account of them being present.”

The other commanders agreed. “We can get the reports from them tomorrow,” Harold said. “Paro, you said these men showed indication that they were here on 90-B’s behalf? I fear we may have a crisis on our hands, if such is the case.”

“May I speak freely?” Paro asked.

“Go ahead.”

“If we’re sending my team home anyway, then perhaps it’s best we shelve this discussion until they’re out of the room.”

“Good point,” Harold said. “All right, let’s let these men do their jobs, and then we can discuss the findings.”

Jack cried out in pain as his mother ear-dragged him over to Sarah and Michael. “Do you two need a ride as well?” she asked them.

Sarah and Michael shrugged at each other. “Well, we came here with Paro,” Michael said, “so we don’t really have a way home. Would … would it be okay to go with you?”

Alana nodded. “It’s fine.” She gave her son another tug, though more lightly this time. “Come on, Jack, we’re going home—and I don’t want to hear a peep out of you the entire way back. Do you understand? Oh, and you can kiss your video games goodbye.”

Jack wailed, “F-f-for how long?”

“Forever!” she snapped. “I broke them.”

Jack shouted, struggling against his mother. “No! No, you can’t! I don’t love you anymore.”

“Oh, please,” she said, dragging him towards the door. “You’ll get over it. Now hurry up; momma has things to do today.”

“But wait! Did you really break all of my stuff?”

“Better believe it, and I’ll do a lot worse than that if you don’t get a move on.”

Jack struggled again. How much worse was he going to make the situation? Paro knew he shouldn’t feel guilty, so why did the sight of Jack’s torment cause him to doubt his decision to involve Alana?

“Ah! This isn’t good,” Sarah whispered, running up to Paro. “Jack’s drawing power. A lot. This isn’t good.”

The few Telepaths in the room mumbled among each other; all except Deven, who stood in the doorframe, grinning. Alana overheard their whispers then looked down at her son.

“What do you think you’re doing, Jack? You!” she said to an approaching commander. “Don’t intervene.” He stopped in his tracks. Then she turned her attention back to her son. “Why are you drawing power?”

“Because I don’t wanna go home!” Jack yelled. “Just leave me alone, Mom. I wanna be left alone.” He wiggled his ear out of Alana’s grip and then backed away from her. “Leave me alone.”

“Get back here right now!” Alana demanded. “Or I’ll make your punishment even worse.”

“You broke all of my things!” he shouted. “I’m done with all this Psych stuff.”

Alana stepped towards him, and Jack reflexively threw his arms out. Paro watched as he did the unspeakable: he threw a powerful kinetic burst at his own mother, one with enough force to put a whole in a wall.

Alana didn’t seem worried. She shrugged and swung a single arm downward. The force was stopped as if it never existed, impacting with her arm and dissipating in an instant. Jack looked stunned, his mouth hanging open. “How … how did you … ?”

Before he could finish his sentence, his ear stretched on its own, as if tugged on by an invisible hand. Jack cried out in pain while he was dragged towards his mother.

“Someone is getting too big for their britches,” Alana said with a grin. Jack closed the distance, chasing after his own ear. It was by far the most humiliating use of Telekinesis that Paro had ever seen.

Alana raised her voice. “I’m taking Jack home before we contaminate the entire scene. You guys coming?” Melissa looked over at Michael and Sarah then shrugged. The three followed Alana out of the room, Jack shouting and making a scene while his mother dragged him out by the ear. A recon officer returned Jack’s phone to his mother before she pulled him through the door.

Well, Paro thought. Now Jack knows who he’s dealing with.