#youlikeit - BLACKBIRD book 1

12. politics

Before going to work on Monday morning, Gillian spent a good while trying to hide the last traces of her bruises with makeup. Even so, she had to take a good deal of mocks, mostly about the risks of working with the FBI, which she bore with a patient smile.

She went straight to the sixth floor. She had managed to keep her father away the whole weekend, so she went to see him even before going to her office. Francine brought coffee for them as King Gillian studied his daughter's face.

She sat before his desk, pretending to ignore his stare, but as soon as they were alone, he said, "Ouch. I don't wanna see the guy's fist."

"Well, he's dead," she replied, sipping her coffee.

King Gillian chuckled and dropped a folder on the desk for her to see. "The State Police offers to extend your team's clearance for a whole year," he said in a casual way, but Gillian could easily hear the satisfaction in his voice.

She nodded, flicking through the papers in the folder: a hundred forms to fill out for every member of the team, to make their reservist status effective.

"What should I do?" she asked. That was politics, and she knew better than making any decision without consulting him.

"Accept, of course. Fill those forms out and bring them to Fran, she'll handle it."

Next King Gillian opened a drawer and took out a bunch of envelopes with the city emblem on them. She raised her eyebrows.

"The Mayor's Christmas Gala," he said.

"Seven invitations? Are we bringing over the Irish branch of the family?"

"They're for your team, Reg." King Gillian chuckled at her surprise. "The Mayor's giving you guys some commendation of sorts, for the achievements of the unit over your first year of work, so he wants them there."

"Okay," she muttered, leaving the envelopes on top of the folder. "Any other surprises? A decent office, maybe?"

"The Commissioner is giving you a medal for twenty years of exemplary service or something like that, so get that speech ready too."

Gillian narrowed her eyes, staring straight into her father's. They were of a rare dark blue, not regular blue eyes like hers, or like her mother's had been, and he'd passed that singular color on to Connor.

"Who's attending?" she asked.

"The usual."

That was too quick. Gillian kept staring at him, just to remind him she was no fool.

King Gillian shrugged. "The Mayor is running for governor."

Oh, now it all made sense. He wanted to highlight his achievements on reducing the crime rates. And after the SCU had caught the Bailey brothers, solving twenty-five cold murder cases from all over the state in three days, the Governor wanted them in his ranks too, mostly to deprive the Mayor of what looked like an excellent tool for his primary campaign.

At the same time, both the Mayor and the Governor wanted to rub the SCU in the federal agencies' noses. There would be some senior officers from the FBI, the ATF and the DEA attending the gala, like every year, and rumor had it their efficiency rates for Massachusetts were not exactly the highest nationwide. But that's on you, feds, 'cause you can see we're not only working on it: we're succeeding where you're failing.

And her father would take the biggest slice of political credit, of course. That was why he was in such a good mood.

Gosh, she hated politics. She sighed, shaking her head, and stood up. "Okay, okay, you know we'll do it. I just hope all of this doesn't backfire in your face the next time I work with Russell."

"You know Russell is okay. He's like family."

"Or any other fed."

"Oh, you're planning to keep working with them?"

"I don't give a flying damn about jurisdictions and politics, Dad. You know it. I won't fall back 'cause catching a bad guy implies working with other agencies."

King Gillian flashed one of those patronizing smiles she hated. "Easy, child, I just don't understand why you need them at all."

"Well, I'll let you figure that out by yourself," she replied, grabbing the folder and the envelopes. "Have work to do."

King Gillian waited until her hand was on the knob. Only then he said, "Good work, child."

"Thanks," she grunted, walking out.

The team was surprised to hear the news, until she explained the politics behind so many sudden acknowledgments. Ron expressed the general opinion about it, dropping his invitation on one of the spare desks as he shrugged. "Well, I owe Laura a dinner out."

Aldana handed Gillian yet another folder. "Brian Hall needs a hand to nail an E distributor."

Gillian flashed a mischievous smirk and turned to Hank. "And what about asking the experts for help?" she said. "D'you think Templeton would lend us a couple of DEA boys for this?"

Hank chuckled, producing his phone. "They're so gonna fire us."

"But not before the gala, so."