Chapter 2: Suspects

As Warren walked in, he saw Jack sit up a bit straighter, Crispin wave in greeting, and Mr. Ozera turn towards him, all out of his peripheral vision.

He had once again been struck dumb at the sight of Brooklyn. Beautiful, simple, graceful, smiling at him peacefully as if not a thing in the world troubled her Brooklyn. Warren felt his heart quiver as his stomach tightened into knots and his tongue got thicker. It happened every time he was around her, he couldn't stop the reaction. He didn't really want to.

But the look on Jack's face, the very presence of Mr. Ozera, told him that it was time to be serious and he needed to focus.

So he tore his gaze away from Brooklyn's dazzling eyes, not without difficulty, as he shut the door behind him and leaned against it trying for casual.

“Alright,” he said, trying to put a smile on his face and not trip over his words, “you got me here Jack. What's up?”

“You took your sweet time.” Jack grumbled but didn't pause to let Warren explain. “We don't have long to talk. We're down to about...how long Ozera?”

Mr. Ozera checked his watch. “Five hours.”

Jack nodded. “Warren, as you know, we have a traitor in MCRC. Thanks to Josh, we know he was high up.”

Warren noticed that Jack's hand tightened just a bit on his pen as he said Josh's name. Jack loved MCRC like it was his own child. The connection he had to the place was almost as strong as Warren's, sometime he suspected it was even more so. He knew Josh had turned at the end back to their side, but that didn't mean Jack could forgive the sin of treason.

“I, of course, find this deeply troubling.” Victor interjected. “I can't have any bad press for MCRC right now. We've had no choice but to release the findings from the Atlantic to the general public in hopes that the last of the remains can be identified. If it gets out that anyone in MCRC had anything to do with it, it would bring all manner of hell upon our heads. No one likes dead infants and everyone hates those who killed them.”

Warren nodded, agreeing. He hadn't personally been there when the bodies of 58 people, 96 when you counted in all the unborn fetuses, that had been kidnapped then disemboweled on the floor of the Atlantic ocean had been discovered. Crispin, Warren knew, had been a survivor of the ordeal and MCRC had rescued him just before he became Jack's assistant. However, he had seen pictures of the aftermath, the quickly evacuated underwater base, the far too many lost souls, and the general sense of horror being so far underwater had brought to the entire thing.

Intrebari, who Ilia had discovered commissioned the submarine that serviced that place, had been behind it. But all they had was their name. Why they did it, why they seemed fascinated with killing so many women pregnant with demi children, was beyond any of their guess. Finding whoever the second traitor was would help in answering those questions.

“And you want me in on finding whoever it is.” Warren didn't have to work all that hard to guess that. He just wasn't sure if he could handle it. He had already lost Josh...

“You are the only one I can put on it.” Jack nodded. “I want as few people knowing of this as possible, I don't want whoever it is knowing we're after him and getting scared away. You already know and your connection to MCRC will help in this.”

“You are extremely valuable to us.” Mr. Ozera chimed in, earning a dirty look from Jack for the second interruption. “Your service and sacrifice-”

“Enough.” Jack cut him off, rubbing his temple like he was getting a headache. “You can stop running for election now, Ozera.”

“No need to be rude, Jack.” Mr. Ozera's polite expression didn't fade but Warren noticed a new stiffness to his spine.

“Anyway, we've got to find this guy, so we're starting at the very top.” Jack pulled a file from his desk and held it out to him.

“In here,” he said as Warren walked forward to take it, “are the four division heads of MCRC.”

“Rachel Cohen;” Brooklyn chirped in with a smile, “head of the Legal Division. Earl 'Pablo' Eisenhower; head of the Humanities Division. Dr. Lester Fontane; head of the Research and Development Division. And, of course, Jack Cross; head of the Criminal Division.”

“These are their assistants.” Jack passed him a second file.

“Melody Lewis and Robert White, assistants to Mrs. Cohen.” Brooklyn spoke up again as Warren opened the first file to the image of a rather harsh looking woman with the name R. Cohen by the photo. “Jackson 'J.R.' Rollings, Dominique Simmons, and Kelly Micheal, assistants to Mr. Eisenhower. Dr. Fontane has no assistants and, not to forget, Crispin Sellers.”

Crispin gave a small head bow to Brooklyn for his mention.

“These are the most powerful people in MCRC.” Mr. Ozera said. “Second only to me. I hand picked these people myself, I highly doubt any one of them is a traitor.”

“But we still have to rule them out.” Jack spoke over him just a bit, earning a glare of his own. “All of us, plus Ozera, will be having a formal dinner tonight. We have one the start of every year and at the start of every quarter. We talk business, usually there's argument, and Pablo almost always tries to hock some ugly piece of art he discovered on one of us.” Jack said the name as if it tasted bad just coming out of his throat.

“Nevertheless,” Mr. Ozera reminded him, “it is a useful meeting. The heads must all work together or the body will die.”

“We want you to come.” Jack continued. “I want you to meet each head and each assistant, get a feel for them.”

“Won't they find it odd that you suddenly brought a criminal employee with you to a department head dinner?” Warren interrupted before he could stop himself. Damn Jack, he knew Warren wouldn't be able to turn down the assignment. Not if it was for the good of MCRC.

“I'm not bringing you.” Jack sat back. “Brook is.”

“You're coming?” Warren turned to look at her, unable to keep from looking shocked. He had thought Jack just wanted her here to get him in.

Brooklyn nodded, seemingly undisturbed by the look on his face. Inside she worried what his reluctance to have her along might mean and she hated that she wasn't sure. “Victor has brought me along before. I go to a lot of functions with him.”

“She's like a daughter to me.” Mr. Ozera smiled at her affectionately. “Everyone knows it.”

“And since you two have gone out already,” Jack finished, “it wouldn't be odd for her to invite you along.”

“I've never brought a date before.” Brooklyn said. “But I doubt anyone will care. All the other department heads are extremely egotistical. Mr. Eisenhower can barely see beyond his own nose, Mrs. Cohen can't see beyond her wallet, and Dr. Fontane is just a little crazy.”

“They sound like such nice people.” Warren said, his voice dry and sarcastic.

“It's not a particularly fun dinner.” Jack agreed.

“So you want me to just pick one that I think might be a traitor?” Warren asked dubiously. He knew that wouldn't be all, Jack wasn't that simple.

“Of course not.” Jack said. “At the dinner, Ozera is going to announce a surprise inspection of each of the departments.”

“It will give you time to do a thorough search of each head and their assistants and employees.” Mr. Ozera said. “I will be bringing Brook along to do my reports and you along to be my bodyguard.”

“Everyone will think he's humoring Brook by making you his bodyguard.” Jack explained. “You might get a little lip but otherwise you shouldn't have any problems.”

“We'll have to do a bit of traveling.” Brook smiled. “The criminal and research divisions are right here on the Complex. But legal is based in Washington and humanities is in New York. Mrs. Cohen and Mr. Eisenhower moved them for their convenience years ago.”

“Because they're both insufferable and think too highly of themselves.” Jack shook his head.

“The dinner is taking place here this year.” Mr. Ozera said. “Which is good, it means we wont have to travel far to get there. You both have a little under five hours left to get ready and get to the meeting place.”

“Where is it?” Warren asked. “And it's not black tie right? I don't have a tux or anything.”

“Business casual will be fine.” Mr. Ozera shook his head. “The dinner is taking place at Memoire, the French place downtown. We have a private room booked under the MCRC name.”

“Okay.” Warren nodded, wondering what business casual was and if plain t-shirts qualified.

“Dinner starts at 7 sharp.” he continued. “Pablo will be late, he always is, but the rest of us will be there right about then. Any other questions?”

Warren thought for a moment then shook his head. “No, I think I got it.”

“Good.” Jack said. “Then you and Brook go get ready. We'll see you there.”

Knowing he had no choice yet taking a little comfort from the fact that Jack wouldn't have him doing this if he thought he couldn't do it, Warren nodded and turned to leave just as Brooklyn stood up.

“See you soon, my dear.” Mr. Ozera said goodbye to her as Warren opened the door for the both of them.

Brooklyn waved goodbye to the three men in the room before walking out.

“How have you been?” she asked as the door shut behind Warren and he started walking down the hall with her at his side.

Warren looked her over but she didn't look disturbed, it seemed like a friendly question.

“Fine.” he lied. “I've been keeping busy.”

“I'm glad.” she smiled ahead.

Warren found himself shortening his stride automatically to match her much smaller steps as they turned a corner and headed for the elevator.

“So,” Warren thought quickly, trying to find something to talk about when his eyes landed on the files in his hand, “have you met all these people?” He held them up to indicate to the people inside.

“I have.” she nodded once. “They're not very nice people.”

“What are they like?” Warren asked partly to keep her talking, he loved the sound of her voice, and partly because he really did want to know.

“Mrs. Cohen is unpleasant.” Brooklyn said without hesitation and Warren caught the steely look of deep dislike in her eyes. “She wont let anyone she thinks is beneath her call her Rachel. She's a good lawyer, don't get me wrong, and her department runs like a German train schedule. However, as a person, she leaves much to be desired. Her assistants aren’t much better.”

“She sounds charming.” Warren said with a bit of a smile. Brooklyn was so sweet to him, he wondered what Rachel Cohen had done to make her so angry.

“Dr. Fontane is nice enough.” she continued. “He's not all there though, you know?”

“A few eggs short of a dozen?” Warren said with a short laugh as Brooklyn nodded.

“He's a great scientist and a real genius.” she continued as if trying to find something nice to say about him. “I've had great, lengthy conversations about mythics with him. He's a bit obsessed with mythics, you know. He's actually in charge of the project Jack set him to create something that would allow sirens to speak without you falling in their thrall.”

“That would be useful.” Warren thought of Crispin who really was a nice guy, he wished he wouldn't worry about whether or not the siren would speak. He knew Crispin wouldn't, he went out of his way not to talk but there was still a part of him that was afraid of being taken over.

They stopped in front of the elevator and he reached over and pressed the button to go down.

“Dr. Fontane is really excited about it.” Brooklyn nodded. “He'll want to examine you, but don't take it as an insult. He went a little crazy when Jack let him record Crispin's voice and examine his brain waves. Apparently Crispin is a very powerful siren.”

“Good to know.” Warren wondered if he would be willing to let the doctor examine him. He was sure the doctor had access to other haltijas, he didn't think he needed to submit himself to being examined.

“He and Jack are really the only two I get along with.” Brooklyn continued.

“So Pablo...?” Warren prompted.

“Mr. Eisenhower is pretentious.” Brooklyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “He's technically in charge of promoting peaceful mythic-human relations and encouraging mythics to intermingle with humans in both the work force and in the arts.”

“Technically?” Warren repeated with a smile.

“He thinks he's some sort of art connoisseur.” she shook her head as if exasperated with him. “He demands we call him 'Pablo' because it has more panache than Earl. I refused and he doesn't really like me because of it.”

Warren couldn't stop himself from laughing out loud as the elevator doors opened and they went inside. Warren pushed the button for the first floor and looked over at her with a friendly grin.

“He's unpleasant, annoying, and incredibly full of himself.” Brooklyn said without apology. “He owns an art gallery where he showcases mythic artists and he thinks so highly of himself because of it.”

“If he's so into art, why is he working for MCRC?” Warren asked.

“Because he himself has no artistic talent.” Brooklyn laughed just a bit. “I would feel bad about saying that but he really isn't a nice person at all. You'll see tonight.”

“Yeah.” Warren reached out stroked the back of his fingers across her cheek without thinking as the elevator stopped and the doors dinged open.

The small room fell silent as Brooklyn leaned into his touch just a bit and her eyes really focused on him.

Warren realized what he was doing just a bit too late and he dropped his hand, hesitated, then placed it on her shoulder.

Brooklyn didn't seem to mind and her smile never really faded so he couldn't tell what she was thinking and it drove him just a little bit crazy.

“I'm sorry.” he said suddenly unable to stop himself. “I'm sorry I didn't call.”

“It's okay.” she waved his apology away but she looked out the elevator doors so he knew she was lying.

“Didn't we say we would be honest with each other?” he asked, thinking of their Christmas Eve date. He had had trouble deciphering what she had been thinking then too. It turned out, she had been as nervous as he was. The woman, he thought as he caught just a little bit of guilt flash into her eyes, was good at hiding her emotions.

“We did.” she agreed, she bit her lip just a little drawing Warren's attention to it.

He hadn't, he remembered, kissed her at the end of their Christmas date. He had thought about it, obsessively, but at the end of the night, he had settled with a kiss on her cheek. The truth was, this tiny woman who stood at eye level with his chest scared the hell out of him.

She brought forth the worst, clumsiest, most awkward in him and made him want to strive to be stronger, wiser, just better than he was. Just standing next to her in the elevator was enough to make his heart speed up, ever so slightly. He really didn't even think of touching her, just looking at her was enough. She was an angel, beautiful and elegant.

The elevator doors slid shut again but they hadn't moved as Warren waited for her to speak.

He could see the 'I'm fine' right there on the tip of her tongue. It was the go-to, polite answer and he knew she wanted to say it but he could see her wrestling with her promise to be honest with him.

“The truth is...” she hesitated, keeping her eyes averted as she blushed just a bit. “I...started panicking when you didn't call or pick up. I thought you didn't like me. When you didn't kiss me after our date, I thought it was because you decided...that uh...”

Warren felt his jaw drop just a bit when she said it. “No!” he half shouted before she could speak more. “I wanted to...I just got scared.”

“Why?” Brooklyn asked immediately. She looked genuinely curious.

“I wasn't sure...I mean...I just...” Warren found himself fumbling for words. How could he tell her that he felt like a dirty commoner before a queen and that kissing her would feel like her was sullying her somehow without sounding corny and lame? He wasn't sure there was a way. “I-”

Brooklyn cut him off by standing up on her toes and pressing her lips against his, ever so slightly.

Warren felt like he had been punched in the gut as he instinctively reached out his arm, grabbed her waist and pulled her closer.

She smelled so good! Like roses and leather and old paper, a smell he hadn't even liked until recently.

He increased the pressure of the kiss, just a bit as she put her hands on his shoulders to help hold herself up. There wasn't any rush to the kiss, any real movement, just a simple meeting of lips and still Warren felt his entire universe condensing and focusing on the woman in his arms until he felt dizzy.

Brooklyn leaned back first, but he didn't release her, and she smiled up at him. “O-Okay?”

“Oh...yeah...” Warren felt a stupid grin appear on his face. Just like the woman, the simplicity of the kiss had been what had made it so mind blowing. Simple, yet indescribable.

“Don't be afraid of me. Please.” she asked sweetly, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes. “I missed you this past week.”

“Hellfire woman.” Warren tightened his grasp and embraced her close, burying his head into her neck and lifting her feet clear of the floor.

How could he tell her that he felt like a failure and that standing around her, knowing he had failed and was, in a way, unworthy, was enough to make him want to grovel for forgiveness for an anger and disappointment she didn't even have without sounding cheesy and dramatic? That wasn't possible either, he decided as he cuddled against her. All he could do was hold her and hope he could convey any of those emotions that way.

“You said you would be honest with me, too.” she reminded him gently, running her hands through his hair in a soothing motion he found he enjoyed just a little to much.

“I did.” he echoed her, setting her back down and smiling at her brightly. “And I'll let you know as soon I figure out how.”

“Promise?” she asked, tilting her head just a bit.

“Cross my heart,” Warren leaned down and kissed one cheek, “and hope to die.” he kissed the other. “And you wont keep your emotions away from me anymore. Right.”

“Cross my heart.” she mimicked with a smile, kissing him gently again.

Before Warren could let himself get lost in it, she leaned back and pulled away to push the button to open the door the again.

“So, I'll see you tonight?” Warren asked, feeling a great deal happier than he had before he stepped into the elevator. Of course he would be seeing her, it was a stupid question but he felt like he needed to say something.

“Yes.” Brooklyn nodded, stopping and turning. “I have to get my things from the library though, so I guess this is goodbye until tonight.”

Warren wished dearly that he had parked closer to the library and considered walking with her all the way to the library and back just for the chance to stay with her a while longer.

Could he do that without seeming needy?

No, he decided. He definitely could not. He would just have to park closer to the library next time.

“See you tonight.” he agreed.

“Bye then.” Brooklyn took a few steps backwards, smiling with her cheeks flushed just a bit, before turning and continuing to walk down the hall.