Desmoterion, page 8
More messages popped up; intrigued by what was hidden about Girish’s past, Trent ignored them. He opened another window to access it from the back way, using a few tricks he’d learned from Kipper in his training days: a countermeasure here and multiple lines of coding there. He typed fast as if his life depended on it, which it did.
Their leader would be less than pleased at Trent trying to access information locked away in government databases. Though if it led to a better way of dealing with Girish’s outbursts, Trent figured it was worth the yelling later.
Finally, it opened for him, unlocking the rest of Girish’s file.
Trent blinked at the wall of text and court documents. It wasn’t quite what he’d expected, but it was something he could use later. He scanned through the dry legalese to get to the meat of it. What he found confirmed his suspicions and then some.
Girish had gone further than Trent thought he might, earning a very harsh sentence for the rest of his teen years. The jobs Girish had to do later in life made more sense. Those were the only jobs a guy could get after something like that in his past.
Trent closed the connection to the locked database. He’d found what he was looking for, and there was no need to risk any more attention than he’d already received.
He sat back in his chair and looked out to his empty office.
Now, he had to figure out how to make the most of the intel he’d gathered.
CHAPTER FIVE
With too many aches and pains reminding him of his ordeal, Girish made his way to Trent’s office. He groaned when Mike shoved him inside, and Girish slumped into a chair.
Trent raised an eyebrow at Mike. “Why are you here?”
Mike grinned at Trent. “I wanted to make sure he got here, and also we have training after it.”
“Fine, wait outside until I’m done,” Trent ordered, and Mike exited the room.
Trent turned to Girish. “Every mission will conclude with a debrief — a chance for you to air your opinion and grievances about the mission. How it was handled, how it could be better, that sort of thing. It’s also a time for me to tell you what you need to work on, if anything.”
Girish reclined in his chair, his frustration palpable. “So, basically, a job review?”
“Yes, for the most part. Here, we’re only talking about what happened yesterday, not your training in general.”
Girish didn’t hold back. “The mission sucked.”
Trent typed that into his laptop. “Anything else you’d like to add about the mission more than that? What sucked specifically? Did Emyr or myself not prepare you enough beforehand? Did you not have the tools to do your jobs?”
“Emyr gave me my gear, but it would have been nice if my supervisor shared updates on what was going to happen. Then I wouldn’t have wondered if that jerk... if he was waiting for me to do something.”
Trent entered it in. “That’s expected on your first mission. There’s no real way to prepare you for what might happen when I don’t even know what might happen. We have theories, and we run simulations, but reality doesn’t always align. For example, we didn’t expect Henny to still be alive.”
Girish’s eyes widened. “Henny’s alive?”
“Well, he was alive. He fed Colin the location of where they were. At least a vague idea, and we put the pieces together later. That’s why it took so long to rescue you from Petrov. We had to narrow it down instead of sending four teams to four different locations.”
“But he’s not any more?”
“Turns out there were devices on-site that we didn’t notice as out of the ordinary. The field operatives tripped a silent defense system, which triggered an explosion. The entire building, including the cargo along with Henny and Colin, was annihilated. I’ll be hearing all about it from our leader after this meeting.”
“So Colin died for nothing.” Girish hung his head. “What an idiot.”
“Well, we got the location because of him, so he didn’t die in vain.” Trent sighed. “It’s a shame about the cargo. It comprised three hundred young men who were about to be shipped off planet. They’d disappear into a life of slavery, mainly in the sex trade. It’s illegal throughout the galaxy, but still, their owner wouldn’t give a shit about the law. They’d do whatever they want, even beat the shit out of them or kill them if they choose to.”
“Like Desmoterion can do to us?” Girish let out a sigh and his shoulders sagged. “I didn’t know that was the real goal of the mission — to free those captives. So, we really are the good guys, huh?”
Trent nodded. “I don’t know what we would’ve done with the men if they hadn’t died, but they wouldn’t have been sold as sex slaves forever. I didn’t tell either of you beforehand because I didn’t want it to color your actions. Even so, Colin went off script and it got him killed in the end, and you roughed up.”
“Roughed up doesn’t even begin to describe it. The asshole forced himself on me every step of the way. If I get the chance, he won’t have a dick to use against anyone else.”
“Actually, he was attended to by a doctor while you were sleeping. Mostly in an effort to get him into our good graces. Having someone like that who knows the details of that sort of thing will help in future missions.”
“You fixed him?” Girish’s face twisted in anger. “You should have let him rot!”
“As I’ve said many times, it’s not my decision. Petrov has been cooperative so far, but that was after threatening to cut his dick off on your behalf. Turns out he loves his dick more than anything else. Either way, he’ll get a very short leash. One fuck up, and he’ll be eliminated, that much I can tell you.”
“I can’t believe this bullshit.” Girish sprang up from his chair, shaking his head. “I get manhandled and then you end up siding with the asshole who raped me!”
“For the hundredth time, I’m not in charge around here any more than you are. For Desmoterion, insider knowledge of intergalactic slave rings is hard to come by and we’ll take all that we can get at this point. Any scrap of intel that makes it easier to ruin organizations like these is welcome. You don’t have to like how we operate; it just is.”
“You’re pathetic,” Girish was livid, and he leaned forward and pounded his fist on the desk. “You, hiding in your office and just doing your job, and you think that lets you side with the guy who assaulted me. Because that’s what it amounts to.”
Trent glanced up at Girish. “I’d rather be alive than be cannon fodder later, that’s what it amounts to. It’s not perfect by any means, but it’s the hand I’ve been dealt. I can tell you, we always start recruits on missions like these. You won’t have to deal with men like Petrov again unless you get promoted to my level.”
“Thank fuck for that. I’m not sure I want to work my way up the career ladder for Desmoterion. I don’t know what the fuck it is. Do you?”
Trent motioned at Girish with his hand. “You may as well sit. We’ve got a few more things to discuss.”
“What’s left to say?” Girish reluctantly complied. “You gonna tell me about Desmoterion? We’ve talked about the mission and the aftermath.”
“If you like, what I know about Desmoterion is there ain’t no welcome manual. No contracts. No health and safety rules. I don’t know how many divisions there are, but I do know they aren’t all on this planet. I know it’s extremely well funded, by the kind of weapons and tech we use, but labor is cheap. We’re all prisoners, free labor but our basic needs are met. And it’s a huge step up from prison, as you know. Because we don’t exist, we can be sent out to do things that traditional law and order agencies can’t do or shouldn’t do. But I just execute orders, I have almost no say in what those orders are.”
“So we work for the government?”
“Perhaps. I don’t know where our orders come from. I just know the missions I’ve had involvement with and they’ve all been about defeating the galaxy’s vilest criminals.”
“They abduct people from prison, steal our liberty, and use us as a police force. I don’t know if it’s genius or sick.”
“It’s clever.” Trent typed a few things into his laptop. “Now, how can you improve on future missions? I did like how you kept your calm during the dinner and dessert. You would’ve decked Petrov for trying something like that in any other situation.”
Girish smirked. “Yeah, I have a short fuse, but I’m not a complete loose cannon.”
“You’ve improved in reining in your emotions. However, I could have done without you trying to hit me yet again. It’s getting a bit old.”
“I thought you deserved it at the time for not intervening.”
Trent looked up. “But you’ve changed your mind about that?”
“In a way, I guess I have. Had I known you were waiting for something else, I wouldn’t have been so angry with you. Even though you want to keep the recruits in the dark, a little information goes a long way.”
Trent typed on his keyboard. “I will note that. That mission was to see if you could rein in your emotions when faced with adversity. You accomplished that, at least in front of the guests. You fought back against Petrov later, and I liked that; it shows remarkable guts to not just take his crap.”
“Well, if you learn anything about me, it’s that I don’t take shit from anyone. Regardless of what my prison record says, I fought every fucking one of those who tried to rape me. I might not have succeeded, but you can be damn sure I wouldn’t just roll over and take it.”
* * *
Trent ascended the narrow staircase, his steps heavy with anticipation of what lay ahead. Girish Kannan, the aspiring spy he’d been mentoring, had recently completed a one-day mission. The task had gone well, all things considered, but Trent had a strong feeling the leader wouldn’t see it that way.
Trent pushed open the door to their leader’s office, steeling himself for a reprimand.
The leader swiveled around in a leather chair. “I wish our field operatives had been more successful, Trent, but you managed the mission admirably, given the circumstances. It’s high time we enhanced our sensor capabilities.”
Trent moved closer, standing by the leader’s side. “Renard’s team is green, but they’re learning from their mistakes.”
“Indeed, rookie errors are par for the course. Speaking of fresh blood, Kannan did a commendable job, even if Petrov took a hit. At least he’s still breathing.”
Trent shrugged nonchalantly. “I doubt Girish will charge into the fray like that again.”
“Good,” the leader replied. “Once Mike’s done whipping him into shape, it’s time to move on to phase two: weapon training with Emyr. And perhaps some lessons in sharpshooting with Arden. Let’s make Girish the complete operative.”
“Arden’s the best sharpshooter we’ve got. He’s come a long way from the scrawny kid who couldn’t string two words together to a stone-cold killer.” Trent couldn’t help but relax, the prospect of Girish receiving additional training putting him at ease.
“Girish has the potential,” the leader said, nodding sagely. “He just needs a bit of refining.”
* * *
Trent left Girish in Mike’s capable hands for another month. He dropped by to observe the training sessions occasionally where, according to Mike, Girish made excellent progress, and outperformed recruits who’d had a month’s head start.
They’d weed out the weaker links, but Girish wasn’t one of those.
As Trent watched Girish’s movements in today’s class, he noticed a peculiar flaw in his defensive technique. Not for the first time, he noticed Girish winced when a fellow recruit managed to land a blow on his exposed left side.
Girish was adept at blocking his opponents, but his left side often remained exposed. Petrov had mentioned the same vulnerability during their last mission. Trent had hoped that Mike would have addressed this issue by now.
* * *
Mike had just wrapped up a rigorous martial arts class; beads of sweat tickled his forehead as he stashed his weapons in their respective spots. That’s when he spotted Trent approaching with his characteristic air of annoyance. Mike couldn’t help but offer a smirk. “What do I owe the pleasure?”
Trent glanced over at Girish, who was walking away with the rest of the class. “He’s got a major blind spot on his left side. You’d think he’d have fixed it by now.”
Mike arched an eyebrow, curious. “I didn’t notice anything, Trent.”
Trent nodded, his expression serious. “Well, I caught it. Distract him, or crack a joke, whatever it takes, then go to the left side. It’s like an open invitation for anyone who’s paying attention. Petrov noticed it too.”
Mike crossed his arms across his chest. “Fine, I’ll give it a shot tomorrow. But how the hell did I miss it?”
Trent leaned in, lowering his voice as if he were divulging some grand secret. “You’re not stalking him like I am, Mike.”
Mike chuckled. “Am I missing something else? I know you ultimately want to use him later, but you should also evaluate other recruits.”
“The other recruits are doing fine.” Trent shook his head, earnest but unrelenting. “Thankfully, there hasn’t been anyone like Jaxon, who failed so spectacularly that all the recruits knew what was coming to him.”
“He was a bad dream. I want these guys to excel. The people we encounter are ten times worse than I am. They’ll do fine if they’re ready for even a fraction of that.”
Trent offered a reluctant nod. “They’ll thank you later if they survive. I don’t doubt your skills, Mike. You taught me everything I know and then some. This is just a suggestion to mold Girish into a lean, mean, espionage machine.”
“I get it, Trent. But it makes me wonder how I missed it. I may not always have eyes on him, but I’ll be damned if I miss a big weakness.”
* * *
Mike scanned the recruits. “New day, new dance partners. Everyone, pair up. Kannan, you’re with me, and Rowland, you’ll team up with Fisher.”
Girish felt a knot in his stomach as he approached Mike. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered under his breath.
“Come at me, Kannan. Show me what you’ve got.”
Girish tightened his stance, preparing for the spar, and then lunged at Mike.
Their clash unfolded. Girish adeptly deflected each of Mike’s attempts to exploit his left side.
Mike landed a quick jab to Girish’s right and attempted a sneak attack from the left, but Girish was ready. “You’ve been putting in some extra hours, haven’t you? You’re getting pretty spry.”
Girish made a wild swing at Mike’s right side, missing. “Gotta stay sharp. What else is there to do around here?”
Mike nodded in agreement. “You’re picking up the pace faster than most. And that suits Trent just fine, because it means you’re ready for the next phase.”
“I don’t give a damn what that asshole thinks.”
Mike lunged forward and hit Girish on the left side.
Girish jumped back, not expecting Mike to attack so soon, and got the full brunt of the hit. He grimaced and tried to get back into position before taking another hit.
Mike stopped and groaned. “Dammit, you are weak on your left side. I should’ve noticed sooner.”
“Seriously? You said I’m doing fine.”
Mike was about to answer when he spotted someone standing behind Girish.
Girish frowned at it and then toppled to the ground, holding his left side.
Trent stood over him, an air of disdain in his voice. “Left side is your Achilles’ heel, Kannan. Concealing an injury, are we?”
Girish struggled to catch his breath, wincing in pain. “Warn a guy before you sucker punch him, Trent.”
Trent got down on the floor and yanked Girish’s top up, revealing a nasty bruise on his fair skin. “Well, there’s the reason he’s weak on that side. Looks to be a cracked rib from the swelling.”
“You could have warned me before hitting from behind.” Girish gritted his teeth.
“You think your enemy will issue a warning?” Trent yanked Girish up to his feet amid his screams. “You need to be prepared for anything that comes your way. I can guarantee none of the men you’ll be up against in the field will wait for you to turn around. They’ll take advantage of the situation.”
Mike turned to call out, “Rowland, take Girish to the medics and then come back here.”
Rowland hurried over to help Girish limp away.
Mike looked back at Trent. “Did you have to damage one of my students to prove your point?”
“It wasn’t that bad.” Trent waved it off casually. “His rib was already on the fritz.”
Mike watched Trent’s retreating figure, tempted to add that he might have made it worse but thought better of it. Crossing Trent was not on his to-do list.
* * *
When Trent stepped into the medics’ area of the complex, the people standing around chatting immediately fell silent and stared at him. One sandy blond stepped forward. “Kannan is in room five. We’ve given him some drugs for the pain and taped him up. There’s not much else we can do other than wait for it to heal. He’ll be immobile for several weeks.”
Trent nodded. “But he can sit upright to look at monitors or use equipment?”
“Yes, after the first week. We want to keep him here for that duration to ensure it’s healing correctly. He should have come to us sooner than this, as it looks like it’s been slightly cracked for at least a few weeks.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Is he asleep, or can I see him?”
The man moved back to the others. “He’s groggy at the moment, but awake the last time I saw him.”
Trent walked over to the door marked with a five above. He strolled inside to find Girish staring at the ceiling. “Well, hello there, sunshine. Looks like you’ve been keeping this from not only Mike, but also myself for several weeks. I want to know how it happened.”
Girish kept staring at the ceiling.
