Twenty-Nine Cozy Bears

36

"Am I too late?" Sara asked, her voice tinged with a playful concern as she eyed the empty plates and coffee cups cluttering his desk. A fleeting smirk danced on her lips, a rare expression for a Captain, usually reserved for moments of intimate trust. This micro-expression caught his attention, igniting a desire to witness more of these glimpses into her guarded inner world.

"Not if you have food," the man replied, his tone light yet relieved. "I thought you might have gone home."

"I said I would be right back," she countered, a note of determination in her voice, as she set down a stack of food plates, neatly wrapped in a cloth that seemed oddly fitting as a makeshift carry-all. The cleric's collapsible canvas box mirrored the same resourceful spirit.

"How is it out there?" the cleric inquired, his brow furrowing. "Are people still on the streets?"

"People are awake and excited, but they're starting to calm down. There's some tension against the tech students who've been pulling pranks," Sara reported, carefully placing a plate in front of the Major.

"Is that the story we're sticking to?" the cleric asked, his eyes narrowing with doubt.

"As far as I know, we don't have an official story yet. This narrative developed organically," she responded, and the Major understood her implication: no propaganda, no crafted rumors—just the raw truth.

The cleric pursed his lips, suppressing whatever comment he held. Instead, he refilled the Major's coffee. The Major took a sip, savoring the warmth before speaking again. "If I had to guess, I'd say there's a nine-to-twelve man assassin team in your city," he said, finishing a lamb kabob. The blend of spices was exquisite, unfamiliar yet tantalizing. Saffron and paprika, perhaps, but used in a way that was entirely new to him.

"So it would seem," Cleric Reza agreed, though his tone was hesitant. "The timing is perplexing. I don't think many knew we were moving the test site to a remote location, let alone the library. We decided that just yesterday. And now, this hit team appears?"

The Major raised an eyebrow, finishing a chicken kabob before responding. "I think their target was me, or my team. They likely discovered my arrival and saw an opportunity."

Reza's eyes briefly showed his weariness. "That explanation fits with the limited information we have."

"You mentioned it would take a week to set up the lab, right? Let's do it on a military base and use the time to hunt them down."

The cleric seemed lost in thought, his expression unreadable. The Major finished his coffee while Sara quietly enjoyed her chicken shawarma.

"You believe this is the same group?" the cleric finally asked. "The ones who failed at the enrichment plant and now targeted your team?"

The Major let the question hang in the air, contemplating as he chewed the last of the lamb kabob. He wiped his lips and fingers with a napkin, then set it down deliberately. "Yes. They haven't succeeded yet, and we're not pursuing them aggressively enough to make them leave. No disrespect, but that's where the facts lead me."

Reza sipped his coffee, his gaze thoughtful. "Which facts?"

"The ones you mentioned. If we were pressuring them, they wouldn't have time to target the library. We might be looking in the wrong places."

He raised a subdued finger, signaling his intention to continue. "This isn't a slight on your staff or service. With more time, we can leverage our expertise in finding missing persons to track them down. We located twenty-three missing persons last year—almost two a month."

"Part of your duty is finding missing persons?" Sara asked, surprised. "I wasn't aware."

"No, it's a hobby, actually," he grinned. "Many hackers enjoy it. It tests all the skills we hone. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it."

"Do you mean people lost in the wilderness?" she inquired.

"Yes, but mostly victims of kidnapping or trafficking," he explained.

"Do you choose someone at random? Do the police assign them to you?" she asked, her voice rising with tension.

The cleric intervened gently, "Sara, I'm sure—"

"This is serious police business. These are people's lives," she insisted, her frustration evident.

The cleric's voice turned sharp, "Captain Jamshidi!" The authority in his command was unmistakable.

Captain Sara Jamshidi's shoulders slumped, her expression one of regret. "I submit," she whispered, her eyes seeking escape rather than connection.

This was not the expression the Major longed to see. He had inadvertently shattered the moment of trust.

"You were saying, Major, that your skills could help find these terrorists?" the cleric resumed, his tone neutral but the atmosphere irrevocably altered. The joy of shared trust had morphed into a rigid sense of duty.

The Major leaned back, clearing his mind of the lost moment. "Yes, cleric. The techniques should transfer well. I'll need access to the CCTV in Tehran. The rest is operational information."