+18 - eps 22-27 - A case takes Russell and Brock to the brink of death. It'll be up to Gillian and the team to rescue them before they're killed by a white supremacist militia. And in the aftermath of the Paris attacks, the threat of a bio attack fo...
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It was weird, coming to work in the morning and see Cooper's office empty. Aldana was in charge to stay in touch with the hospital, to know as soon as the Iron Lady came out of the OR. Gillian walked into the small office, her name on the door, with a sigh. She didn't like being pushed to this kind of post, where she felt chained and deprived of any chance to do what she loved: be out there, chasing bad guys.
She'd barely dropped her bag on the desk when Cooper's assistant knocked on the door. Only now she realized she didn't know the name of this quiet, hard-working woman, always able to put up with all of Cooper's demands—and temper.
"Morning, ma'am," said the assistant, walking in. She noticed Gillian's look at the pile of folders she carried and flashed a tight smile. "Don't worry, some of these are for me. Agent Farrell asked to see you whenever you have a spare moment."
So early? "Any idea what about?"
"His case. Now he's got the search results he was waiting for, he doesn't know what to do with them." Gillian frowned. "He expected local subjects and only got names out of Boston." Gillian frowned deeper. The assistant shrugged. "His wife, you know. She doesn't like him leaving town for work."
"Really. Send'im in."
"Can I bring you a coffee, a tea, anything?"
Gillian shook her head with a smile. "No, thanks. Anything else?"
"Agent Troy. He wants to see you about his case, too. He's been waiting for the locals to send him a file for the last three weeks."
"Then he's next after Farrell. What else?"
The assistant checked the clipboard she had on top of the folders. "Agents Bouchard and Tremblay, also about their cases."
"Okay, give me five minutes and then the royal audiences are officially open. Oh, and there is something I'd actually need: can you get me a coffee maker to have here?"
"Of course, ma'am. In a minute."
"Please. It's Reg, Gillian, Agent Gillian. Anything but ma'am."
"Yes, Agent Gillian."
Gillian walked out with the assistant and went to the team's office. She was relieved to see Fred had just arrived.
"Fred, so good to see you! Can you make a gallon of your coffee for me? In my cell, please. They're bringing me my own coffee maker."
"Yes, ma'am."
She narrowed her eyes. "Et tu, Brutus!"
Fred arched his eyebrows, very serious. "I can't go around calling our ASAC by her nick, right?"
"I hate you."
"Bluff."
"Dammit. You're right."
"Told ya. C'mon, let's make ma'am some coffee."
"Enough already. Don't try my love for you."
On their way out, they met Aldana coming in.
"Hey, Al, d'you know the name of Cooper's assistant?" asked Gillian, lowering her voice.
Aldana took a moment to think. "Isn't it 'Assistant'?"
"Thought so. Could you try to find out for me, please?"
Fred and Aldana traded a glance.
"Don't complain, at least it's detective job," he said. "I'm just the coffee boy."
Gillian rolled her eyes as the other two chuckled.
As soon as she sat at her desk with a steamy mug of Fred's coffee, Cooper's assistant sent Agent Farrell in.
Gillian let the man speak and complain about having to leave town to check on his subjects, suggesting to hand the case over to their agency in Worcester--but never mentioning his wife. She listened without the hint of a smile. When the man was done, she gauged her voice to turn the desk between them into an ocean trench, and herself into the Queen Of Krakens Ready To Wake.
"You have four days to present a full report on all your subjects."
Farrell frowned, taken aback. "O-okay," he said. "I'll have it done by Wednesday."
"That's six days from now, Farrell." Are you so dumb you can't even count?
The man's eyes widened. She raised her eyebrows, inviting him to argue.
"You mean...?"
"Monday, Farrell."
"But that's... You want me to spend the whole weekend out of town?"
Farrell stiffened at her dismissive look, matching her words. "Offenders don't do weekends, Farrell. Neither do field agents. If you're no longer fit for field work, you should submit an application for a desk post. Or your resignation. Until either of them are received and processed, you're to keep working as the field agent you are. Anything else I can be of help?"
Farrell shook his head, all of him crying out loud how insulted he felt.
Gillian ignored his offended scowl. "Good. I'll be waiting for your report, then. First thing Monday morning."
The man left and her phone buzzed with an incoming text from Aldana that made her smile: "Her name's Helen."
