Chapter 17-Lynn

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17

Lynn Kramer

Agent: 53

Mission: Not Applicable

Location: ACA Headquarters, Quarter 1

Date: September 1st

Time: 0300

After two hours of silence, we pull up to ACA Headquarters in the rain. It's been a long night, and I would've thought I'd have dropped my head the second we got onto that bus. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't. The image of that King, staring at me from off in the distance, keeps sending chills down my back. ACA Headquarters is the only place that I truly feel safe.

The other agents and I evacuate our bus first, to go and unload the civilians, but the second the rain hits me, I'm shaking beyond control and I can't seem to see two feet in front of me. I put my hand on the side of the motorbus and work my way around the side, pausing when I almost run straight into the chest of a man. I stumble backwards, about to apologize, but as I squint through the sheets of water, I can make out the gray commander uniform. The olive skin.

He realizes that it's me a second before I do. "Lynn," he says, and his voice is unnaturally sweet. Relieved. He reaches forwards and pulls me into a tight embrace. I hug him back, burying my face in the clothing on his chest. "It's going to be alright," He whispers, but it's difficult to make out in the pounding of rain on the earth floor.

After a few moments, Rap pulls away, and takes my hand to pull me inside. We go to the transfer elevator, and after we've slipped into the dry air, Rap pulls a blue towel out from behind his back and puts it around both of my shoulders. My teeth are chattering, and I have to rub my hands to keep them from shaking. I graciously accept the towel.

"W-where are we they t-taking all of those p-people?" I manage to ask, clenching my jaw. The door automatically closes behind us, blocking out the cold wind biting at my cheeks. We shoot upwards into the darkness, breaths mingling into one.

"Most of the underground levels are uninhabited," Rap replies through the black, and the feeling of his body in the closure is enough to make me lean back and breathe a sigh of relief.

I'd never known we had underground levels at Headquarters—or at least, I was never told about them—but it must be some sort of a bunker for aboveground attacks. I can be certain that if they were important (or used quite often), Commander Pyle would've mentioned them to me, at least once.

The elevator shoots through the blackness at blinding speed, and when we halt, I have to press my hands to the sides of my face for a moment. The doors open, and Rap pulls me into the hallway.

We walk through the corridors in silence, with his warm hand clutching mine tightly. These halls are like second nature, and I turn at just the right moments without the need for Rap's guidance. Even so, it's comforting. More than anything— the events of this night have made me realize just how much it means to have him beside me.

I don't think about where we're going. I let my feet pull me to Rap's office office. There is no one out tonight. Not this late. The ACA has never had any set "curfew" for the agents here, but most understand that if you're dragging behind at training, everyone suspects you were up later than necessary.

We keep walking. I risk a glance back at Rap's face, and see it is dripping with rain water, curly hair flattened against his head. His hidden brown eyes are intent, with the same concentration that I've always associated with him. This man—the Rap I am seeing now—feels like he's meeting me for the first time.

The only thing to pull me out of my trance is the sight of Rap's office, disappearing behind us. "What?" I say, before I can stop myself. "I thought we were going to come up with a plan."

"I knew you would say that," Rap says, chuckling under his breath. His hand is still on me, pulling me forwards, but I've turned on him and rooted my feet. "I think we should discuss this tomorrow, Lynn. After you've been rested."

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Does he really think I could just hop on back to bed without some plan? Agent Hood doesn't have that kind of time. And I'm not going to risk a few hours of sleep while he's probably being tortured for information right this instant.

"Hood doesn't have a night! They could be killing him right now, Rap!" I say, voice instantly rising to a shout. My breath shudders in my chest and I cough, spraying rainwater in all directions. Rap reaches out and puts his hands on both of my shoulders, but I shrug them off.

"Calm down," he whispers, gently. I'd expected him to be frustrated at this point, but he almost looks sympathetic. I don't want that from you, I think. I don't want his sympathy.

"Don't tell me to calm down," I say.

"They're not going to do much to him within a few hours," He assures me. "Agent Hood isn't going to reveal anything about the ACA, okay? You remember." He pulls on the side of my towel so that it's upright against my shoulders.

Of course I remember. Just one other thing you were bound to when you joined the ACA.

If you are ever to be captured or kidnapped by enemy forces, no information is to be given about the whereabouts of the ACA, or any other knowledge that might concern the safety of others.

Commander Pyle hadn't pressed this stipulation much, quickly adding it in with the rest, but this one promise always seemed to stick out the most in my mind.

"That's what I'm worried about," I mumble, not sure if Rap can hear me. Agent Hood would never defy any ACA rules. I know that. But part of me wishes that he would, just to avoid the torture and suffering that surely awaits him. Pain can force you to forget about all of the sacrifices you've made sometimes. But the question is, will Agent Hood be able to hold on to his sanity long enough? Until I can rescue him, at least.

Rap still isn't moving, and I know that he'll be too stubborn to talk tonight, whether I want to or not. Rap might be willing to negotiate every once and awhile, but when he gets his mind set on something, he'll put his foot down. I sigh and cross my arms over my chest. "First thing tomorrow then," I say. Then I rip the towel from my shoulders and thrust it in Rap's hands.

I turn on my heel and round the corner to my sleeping quarters before Rap can reply. He doesn't follow me this time, and I'm glad, because by the time I've bolted my door, I'm in inevitable danger of passing out.

Somehow, before I can crash into bed, I stumble into the bathroom, turn on the shower and stand in the water, bringing soap over my hair. It's a struggle, forcing myself out of the hot pounding of water against my skin, but I brush my teeth and fall into bed.

I might've just found the strength to feel guilty, but I'd used up all that time on the bus ride back. Now, all I can do is allow my eyes to flutter shut, and breathe a heavy sigh of defeat.

-v-

By the time morning comes around, I feel no worse than if I hadn't slept at all. I check my communicator, tangled up somewhere in my sheets, and struggle to stifle a yawn. 0700. The urge to collapse back onto the pillow is calling my name, but the crackle from my communicator snaps me awake instantly. It takes me a moment to accept that the voice belongs to Rap.

"Lynn," he says, like he's just seen something he desperately wishes to unsee. The regret in his voice sends me hustling to the door, tripping over myself. "...You're gonna want to see this."


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