Darkly - Episode #5

FBI mingles with Dark Magic

Want to start at the beginning? You can find the 1st Episode and all episodes HERE.

But the next episode is below and here’s a quick recap to launch you into the next part: Kinley found a quirk in the Omega data that everyone else missed, and it means the Omega Task Force is moving on the wrong targets. Can she right the ship in time to save the next victim?

Now… onto Darkly Episode #5.

“We got her! We got her!”

The jubilant call came from the Bullpen. One of the tech guys rigged a speaker so the lowly cubicle staff could hear the play-by-play of the mall shutdown and search. A cheer rang out for finding Amanda alive.

I leaned back in my chair and smiled at the ceiling tile. The moment happened without me, but the rush of success still felt good. Big things had to be coming my way now. My intel led to finding Victim #13.

Not Omega, however. We still had no clues about what the killer did between the first mark on the victim and the last, but we’d established that he left them alone.

An odd thought hit me—Omega knows he failed.

We’d broken his killing streak. Would he be pissed? When the team returned, everyone went out to the lobby. They arrived like gladiators, Wilkes leading the pack of Special Agents. It was high-fives to everyone they passed.

A couple of the agents hugged me, acknowledging my contribution to the win. We all ended up at the Dugout, with most spilling out into the hallway, including me.

Wilkes stood in the center of it all. “Our job isn’t over yet,” he said, “but we struck a blow today!” A cheer from the team. “And I’ve just heard from the doctor that Amanda Collins is recovering from the trauma and can be interviewed tomorrow.” Another cheer. “She will go down in the record books as the first victim to survive Omega’s attack. I think it’s safe to say we showed that bastard today!”

It didn’t take much to make the team shout and hoot for joy. It was a long day coming. Someone pushed me into the room, but I hardly thought it was appropriate. Despite my assist, agents who worked it longer should have been inside and witnessed Wilkes’s praise. He would seek me out when he was ready.

I edged back but could only move an inch. My chances were better going into the room. The crowd split just enough, so I had a direct view of Wilkes. He looked over at the same moment. I smiled and clapped, joining the others around me in celebration, giving Wilkes his victory lap.

The bodies shifted again, and Wilkes vanished from view.

“Scott!” Wilkes shouted. The tone had an edge to it that silenced the happy chatter. “My office. Now.”

“What a buzz kill,” an agent mumbled near me.

I wasn’t sure if he meant me or Wilkes.

An agent with a crew cut stood on a chair and addressed the room. “Let’s use this momentum to get back to work and find Omega.” He stepped back down, and everyone got the clue to return to their desks. Wilkes went straight for his office, which shared a glass wall with one side of the conference room. I hadn’t noticed it before because the curtains had been pulled for privacy. They weren’t pulled now. Everyone in the Dugout could see into the private office, making it not so private.

I walked the length of the conference room, getting stares ranging from ‘Oh, girl, you’re in for it’ to ‘Serves you right!’ They’d get a show through the glass and seemed to be settling in for their favorite reality binge.

At least they wouldn’t be able to hear us. I shut the door behind me, allowing myself two steps into the room to stand before Wilkes. He couldn’t sit, pacing on the other side of a sleek, modern desk, puffing into his fist like he was blowing up a pool raft. It had to be a calming technique, not that it appeared to be working.

“Do you know who I am?” Wilkes’s tone ripped into my soul.

I nodded, knowing the last thing I should do was answer. In my experience, when someone wants to chew you out, you should let them.

Wilkes threw his hands up. “I’ve been on this case since Day One. Grinding it out and taking the heat for every dead body, then you come along and want all the credit. Well, missy, that ain’t how I work. Omega is scared and on the run. I did that. You just happened to be the right person in the right place to stumble on a tiny bit of information. AI did most of the work!” His face flushed red. He glared at me. “Heck, other paper-pushers deserve the credit. Months of work went into your lucky break.”

“I’m not trying to take credit,” I said.

“Then why didn’t you bring the information to me first?” His eyebrows rose. His head quivered like a bobble-head doll. “You wanted all the attention!”

He pointed over my shoulder. It made me turn to look. Indeed, the team was watching me. Us. How could he have thought I wanted such negative attention?

“You made that whole room look like fools,” he hollered.

Could they hear him through the glass? Surely a couple could read lips. His hand gestures were enough to understand what he was saying as he emphatically thumped the air around his head. Pointing. Geez, he sure liked to point. I’d heard a few jokes about getting The Point from Wilkes. It was a right of passage on the Omega Task Force.

“Do you know the damage you’ve done? Do you?”

Another direct question, which I ignored. Instead, I focused on a picture of Wilkes’s kids. The frame sat on one corner of his desk, turned toward me by accident. I shouldn’t say anything bad in front of the kids, even if they were only a crappy digital copy in a cheap wooden frame.

“Do you know why I take the heat and the credit?” he asked. “It protects the team.”

I let out a sound. I couldn’t help it. I had to take a breath, and it just came out.

Wilkes stopped moving. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“You are so finished here.” He came around the desk, and I wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but I’d had enough of his tight-ass, self-serving ways.

“Hold on,” I said, not flinching.

His nostrils flared. “What?”

“You were racing to the wrong crime scenes. How could I pull you aside, tell you where to go, and make it all about you being able to take the credit?” I took a step toward him, and he actually backed up. Boy, that should have made me stop. It didn’t. “Just like your team of fifty, I wanted to save a life. That matters more than any ego, and I’m insulted that you think credit matters more to me or anyone on your task force than getting the job done. Your concept of a team is disgraceful.” I squared my shoulders, owning it.

Wilkes cocked his head to the side, playing the words over again in his mind. At least, that’s how I interpreted his stupid expression.

“No wonder it’s taken three years for a break in this case,” I said, letting it all out. If I was leaving, I’d do it in style. “You aren’t leading a team; you’re using it to advance your career.”

Wilkes sputtered, not familiar with nerves like mine. Or stupidity? Naw, it was gumption.

“Stop talking. Right now,” he muttered.

I barely registered the sound of the office door opening behind me, and neither did Wilkes. We squared off, and he hissed an inaudible warning, stoking my indignation.

“The Omega Killer should send you a gift basket,” I said, “to thank you for making his job easier.” I watched the words sink into his thick skull. It was the truth. I could never be sorry for speaking the truth. Of course, most people went to elaborate lengths to tell themselves lies. Wilkes was one of those people.

A soft knock tapped on Wilkes’s office door. The polite kind of warning that someone wanted to interrupt, but I didn’t care. I’d gone too far and had to finish it.

“You are a pencil-pushing, self-inflated, bureaucratic asshole. The future of the FBI is in serious trouble if you’re what they hold up as Special or In Charge.” Making fun of his title was probably below me, but it felt good.

Wilkes looked past me, too teed up to speak. Sweat beaded his forehead as he sputtered more unintelligible words.

“I guess it’s too late to caution against saying things we might regret?” Agent Gil Graham stood at the door. Had he come in to save me?

I turned angry eyes at him. I did not need saving, but Gil was focused on Wilkes. “Let’s take this down just a notch,” Gil said. “You’ve had a great day.”

“She’s finished,” Wilkes said, pointing at me. It was one too many finger points, and it came too close to my face.

I grabbed his finger in my fist, holding it so tight that he winced and couldn’t pull his hand back. “For the record, pointing at everything is obnoxious, and everyone makes fun of you behind your back.” I nodded at the conference room. Everyone watching us tried to look like they weren’t watching.

“Is that so?” Wilkes fumed, finally tugging his finger out of my grasp. He moved closer, jabbing his finger at me. The first jab hit the air, but the second went for my neck.

Gil grabbed Wilkes’s wrist, twisting it as he stepped between us. “This is over,” Gil said, his voice soft and deadly. “She will work for me, and we will never speak of this again. Understood?”

Wilkes pulled a face, but Gil released him, and he nodded in agreement. “Good riddance.”

Gil gave it another beat, not completely mollified on my behalf. “Anything less than a glowing recommendation in her file, and I might have to come back and break that finger.” Gil turned, not giving Wilkes a chance to respond. He motioned me toward the door, and I obeyed. It was the least I could do. I owed Gil. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed saving. Gil Graham had protected my career. For what? I was afraid to find out.

Darkly - Episode #6 - Fallout from being right, but having it turn out wrong.