Inkchanger

13: Hunter & Hunted

Someone at the Supernatural Cases Division had completely overreacted. Most likely Agent 63. He was technically the senior officer, but only by a fluke of chronology; nearly seventy years old, he'd been a field agent the longest, but his middling rank made him junior to fresh-faced young men he could've sired. Word around the building was the he'd been demoted from 99 to 40 when he was in his fifties for tampering with evidence. Most likely, he'd lifted unicorn horn for "personal use." After that, Agent 63 had to claw his way back up the food chain, which had turned him into a pompous ass, even by bureaucratic standards. Calling in air support, emergency medical services, and half a dozen undercover squad cars for one unconscious agent was definitely his handiwork.

Agent 97 preferred a more delicate approach. He'd had plenty of time to think under the washed-out light of vehicles while EMS swabbed, ointmented, and bandaged the stop sign gash in the back of his skull. They'd run him through a battery of mental competence exams that a child would have found tedious.

What is your given name? Agent 97.

What color is the sky? Black.

Who is the current president? That's classified.

As they ticked each official box as he passed their tests, his mind tabulated the new case data in the background.

One subject, one assailant. Headed north-north-west in a modified performance vehicle. Assuming at least one forced stop to refuel to 100% capacity, and factoring in the current time and the time of the attack, the suspects are most likely within the vicinity of Mountain Cave State Park. The terrain in that area is primarily pine forest and is closed to visitors at this time of year. Subjects are most likely physically exhausted and will have stopped to rest before continuing to travel.

He checked the display screen of a watch-like device strapped to his wrist. The tech was practically antique, but Agent 97 refused to be distracted by the newest shiny objects, and he stuck with what worked. The miniature screen of the tracker showed him a flashing blue dot on a grid. At least not all of his training had failed him.

Superlative.

"What is the square root of negative -- "

"The answer is i," Agent 97 cut in, holding up an imperious gloved hand. "Thank you for your assistance, but it is no longer required. I am clearly of both sound mind and body, and you are hindering me in my inquiries. I require that we end these tests and immediately resume the pursuit of the subject."

The EMS worker blinked at him a few times but didn't offer any resistance. She obediently stepped aside and let Agent 97 stride from the back of the ambulance and into the darkness. The insistent pulsing of circling helicopter blades and the glare of vehicle headlights nearby made his exit ten percent more dramatic than Agent 97 found appropriate.

Protocol demanded that any lone agent damaged during an active case was to be immediately accompanied by two lower-ranking agents for the remainder of the pursuit. The rule was designed for the protection of high-value agents and also served as a convenient training method for the younger officers. Its enactment was extremely rare and embarrassing to any agent over 50. For it to happen to Agent 97 was devastating; there was a near-60% chance he'd return to his office and find a different man sitting there, his own meager belongings shunted to a below-70 cubicle.

But he wasn't thinking about that now.

Agent 97 addressed his questionable honor guard as he marched across the still-closed highway. "Agent 11. Agent 14. I see you have been assigned to this case. Very good. Your work thus far has been commendable, and I fully expect it to continue to be so."