Skirted Spies: Season 1

Episode 16-4: Downpour

No leads, no clues, no motivation.

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: Hearth and Barker Residence
(08:23 Hours)

The coffee was the perfect temperature, but it still didn't make me feel any warmer. I placed my chair so I could see outside the window, and here I am watching the heavy rain pound the pavement outside our humble building. This rain feels like it never stops.

"Mornin'...," a groggy voice whispers from the the kitchen doorway. Clyde stood slouching, his usual go-getter attitude gone and becoming more miserable instead. "Coffee without me? Why didn't you wake me?"

"You were sleeping. Also crying."

His eyes roll downward, glued to the floor. I can hear the deep guilt in his voice when he said, "You heard?"

"Mm-hmm. It's okay, I cried too. Your mug is next to the coffee pot if you wanna serve yourself."

He pours himself a steaming cup and takes a seat next to me. "You know this isn't okay, right? You know that we've never cried about a mission result before. This is getting too personal."

I continue to stare outside the second story window feeling like I've got a rainstorm of my own inside me. "No, no, no. I don't wanna hear that kinda talk. Let's just get this coffee in our veins and plan our next move."

"Next move? You're joking right? After that last location burned to the ground, the evidence we collected no longer has links. The one piece that could give a trail just became invalid, what else do you think we can do?"

I slam my hand on the table. "I don't know!" I scream, Clyde becoming surprised and me feeling like I scared even myself. "I'm sorry, Clyde. I didn't mean to yell. I'm angry, I'm sad, I'm lost, and I'm betting you're feeling the exact same way."

"It's okay, stress makes us act a little on edge. We're just...losing our heads right now. I don't even know what to say to make this feel better."

"Then don't say anything. You tried. Thanks a lot."

His eyes narrow. "Now hold on. I don't think you're being very fair to me. All I'm trying to do is lead this unit to victory, and put Archer down. Not only is he an enemy to Ispio, he's also endangering your personal health. Am I such a bad guy for trying to protect you?"

"Protect me!? Clyde, you have no idea how much I care about you. You've never once treated me like more than just a co-worker, while this whole time it's been me that's invited you over to my house, invited you out to dinner, and gave effort to learn more about you! And when did you start calling us a unit? You've always had a higher rank than me, why bring it up now? You think me calling you 'Squad Leader' or some crap like that'll make you any better at your job?"

Clyde gets up from his chair, steaming to a boil. "Enough! I am a higher rank than you, and you will do as you're told. Secondly, who are you to judge my social skills? If you know me so well, than you should know how I am. I don't have to impress you, I don't even have to be your friend! Maybe we are just co-workers."

"Oh... so that's how you feel about us." There's no words to describe how much that hurt. I can't even hold back the tears even a little, they just came pouring. I get up too, my whole body feeling like it would drop from a severe lack of confidence and strength. "It was stupid of me to ever even like you at all!"

Knock knock.

A knock at the door? Now? I wipe my face on my sleeve, drying up the tears that soaked my fur.

Clyde clears his throat and asks through the door, "Who is it?"

"Gift basket for the current residents!" the voice replies.

"Gift basket? For the current residents? That's gotta be the most suspicious line I've ever heard throughout my career," he tells them back.

"Can't say that I put much effort into it." Suddenly the door bursts open by the force of a big, heavy boot. A man donning a combat suit equipped with a gas mask steps in quickly, carrying two silver canisters. My best guess: probably gas.

"Oh great, I don't even get a chance to change out of my PJ's!" Clyde ducks in for a quick punch to throw the assailant off guard, but instead got the wind knocked out of him with a knee to his stomach. Clyde hunched over gasping, and the man nailed him again with a punch to his face, putting him on the floor.

"Ah, ya hide's made outta steel, pooch!" he says, shaking his hand to try and fling off the pain.

"Easy there, buddy. Whatever you've got planned for today, you should really change them. There's no reason to pick a fight with us, we're just here for Archer," I say, emphasizing the calming motions.

"Don't know 'bout nothin', just care for the coin. Nothing personal, girly."

"Girly? I'm not even in a disguise right now."

"Really don't know who you're messin' with, but you two sure are worth a lot."

"So I've been told. What's in those cans anyway?"

"How about we find out."

Clyde finally recovers his air and quickly pounces on the attacker. The cans go sliding towards my feet, and I quickly collect them and watch Clyde handle the intruder. Once the scuffling stopped, he was under Clyde's massive footpaw, a piece of his gas mask goggles cracking from the fight.

"Ow! Okay! Okay! I submit, you win."

"This isn't a game where you can call it quits at any time you're losing," I sternly tell him. "Now on to the questions: who sent you?"

"Oh come on, you know damn well I can't tell you!"

"Clyde?"

Clyde presses down harder with his bare footpaw, making the crack on the mask become much bigger and making the assailant whine in pain. "I don't have time for resistance. Just hurry up and tell us everything, we all know you'll probably die at the end of this."

"Ow ow ow! Stop! I don't know the name, I just picked up the bounty at the bar. Thought it would be another easy feather in my hat, but obviously I didn't come prepared. I've only got the contact that's suppose to pay me when the job's done, but it won't be the person that actually put out the bounty. That's it I swear!"

Clyde continues to press harder, not showing any signs of letting up.

"Hey," I tell him, "he's already given us what we needed, you can ease up now."

"The name," he whispers to the assassin, "give me the name."

"Clyde! That's enough, that's not how we handle contacts during these missions."

He presses even harder, and the assailant lets out a bone-chilling scream. Clyde finally picks his footpaw off of him, his tail fluffing out like he's ready to kill. He goes down and searches the poor man's pockets, pulling out a personal handgun, bullets, and a pamphlet. "This it?" he opens it and reads slowly. "Yup."

I can't say that I haven't seen him like this before, but at this very moment, it seems darker. I grab my phone and contact a nearby Ispio container unit to haul this guy out of here. Anyone directly affecting Ispio business gets detained in one of our secret bunkers; although their sentence varies among inmates.

I catch up with Clyde, who was already getting dressed in the bedroom. "So are you going to tell me who we're going after and what we plan to do to them?"

"Get dressed, squirt. We're gonna run this name through the database and get one step closer to Archer."

It's one thing to focus on the mission with the common goal in mind, but it's another to let it control your life. I don't know what boat I'm sitting in on that one, but I can see where Clyde's sailing. Then again, I'm right there with him... in the same boat.