Porcelain

I Love Books, But Screw the Program's Rule Book

Three weeks passed. Within that time, Michael had gathered all sorts of files and information that we had yet to sort through, and Ryan and I had figured out a routine to my training and had forged habits and a strange friendship. Ryan and I became pretty close in those weeks, and he learned how to adjust to my anxieties and quietness.

Michael didn't visit every week because constant visits were just drawing suspicion. So, when he wasn't around, Ryan and I would wake up around 11 AM, eat, rest, train, rifle through one or two papers from Michael, and then waste the rest of the day talking or sleeping.

When Michael did visit, which lately had only been for very important deliveries or talks, we learned very quickly that he was an early riser, always visiting at 7 or 8 in the morning, much to our dismay. Usually we would go over so many things that we already knew about James, but it was easier to filter the information if we discussed it.

I got used to this routine. In fact, if we ever strayed from the usual, I would be suspicious or concerned. I once prided myself on being adaptive, but now change scared me. Both boys noted this phobia of mine, and I knew it was something they wanted to address, but I had a pace. A very slow pace. An almost agonizing pace. But I couldn't go through with things the way they wanted in the time they wanted.

This very concept was tested when Michael was given permission to send recon out on James. That day, Ryan and I were in the kitchen, eating dinner and talking about the day I got Malala.

"She just walked into the agency?" Ryan asked.

I nodded, sipping some water. "They said she had found her way in. Very small at the time. But they thought she'd make a good addition to the agency. So they adopted her and trained her to be a detection dog. She is the only graduate of their K-9 unit."

"They don't have a K-9 unit."

"Exactly. They made one just for her." I looked at my husky. Malala was laying on the floor, not yet asleep, but definitely not alert. "They gave her to me the first time I walked into HQ."

"They just gave her to you?"

"Yeah. She was a puppy. I was a little girl. I was shaken to my core and I wouldn't talk to anyone. The chief thought it would help if I had a companion. So, he gifted her to me. We got along well, obviously. She's the best thing to have happened to me since the incident."

Ryan stared at me as I ate my pizza. I looked up at him. "What?" is what I wanted to say, but the question was already in my eyes. He hesitated and I looked away.

"Are you upset with what happened to you?" he asked.

I raised a brow. "Of course. A normal life with my normal family. That's what I had, but now it's gone."

He winced. "Sorry. I meant...do you regret what happened?"

I thought on that for a bit. "No...I don't think I can regret something that I didn't choose. But I don't hate the consequences completely. Yes, I hate that I was ripped from this quiet life where there was so much promise and hope for me. But I wouldn't have had Malala. I wouldn't have met Michael or you, though I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing." He met my eyes and I laughed at the offended look on his face. I sobered. "I wouldn't be the person I am today, and I can't be the one that determines which is better, past me or present me."

"I think just you is okay." Ryan said. I opened my mouth to change the subject, but he continued. "I mean, I don't know past you well and I certainly don't know present you the way I claim to. And I may never know the future you. But I think whoever you are is great, regardless of what changes you as you grow."

I was quiet as I thought on that. Michael's familiar knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, and I went to get it, Malala racing past me to sniff the door. I looked at her to make sure it was Michael only and she gave no sign of it being anyone or anything else, so I opened the door.

Michael came in and rushed past me, tons of papers in his hands and his stupid uniform in a mess.

"Close the door, close it, lock it, all that good stuff. Dude, so many things."

I rolled my eyes, locking the door and turning on the alarm. He ran upstairs and set his stuff down on the couch. Ryan came up behind me, shaking his head.

Michael shuffled through his mess and Ryan and I exchanged glances, somewhat irritated with Michael's hyper behavior.

"You wanna explain what happened or are we just going to try to guess?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up." Michael said. I was taken aback, my mouth slightly open. Ryan stared at him, blinking rapidly, as if blinking would help him to process what exactly was happening.

"Okay, okay. So I presented the case to the board and I guess I convinced them that we had enough info to track and attempt to arrest Lucas and even though I still have to work around the actual prosecution and interrogation—"

"CAN YOU GET ON WITH IT?" Ryan yelled. I flinched at Ryan's volume and he touched my hand in apology.

"—and long story short, we can start the process of reconnaissance and surveillance." Michael finished. He took a breath and clapped once. "Whoo! How is that for exciting?"

I shook my head. "You're saying that the program is allowing you to track James?"

Michael nodded eagerly. "Yes! I mean, it'll be difficult, since it's only me, but with Ryan's help...I mean, what do you think?"

My face had fallen from the usual neutral to a confused fear. He caught this and calmed down, more concerned than excited.

"Hey, what's wrong? Aren't you happy that the board is supporting us?"

"I'm happy for you, but...aren't we rushing into this?"

Ryan was quiet, seeming to understand my caution.

Michael, however, was more or less surprised. "What do you mean? The faster, the better. Right?"

"Michael. My life has been in jeopardy for years; I don't think you have the ability to end this in less than two months."

"That's because your former agent, all respect to Agent Phillips, didn't try hard enough! Are you saying you don't...trust me?" He seemed hurt.

"Trust has nothing to do with it. I trust that you will end this all for me. But I can't underestimate James. And as far as what Agent Phillips did for me, he put his heart and soul into trying to take James down. The board gave him the go ahead to arrest and prosecute. When he tried to track him down, James turned the tracking on us and erased years of evidence. What you have in those files is just backup copies and accounts from me and other agents. We did everything by the book. And I don't trust the book."

Michael looked at the two of us helplessly. "Ryan?"

Ryan smiled sadly. "I was the one who sent the bug to erase the data, dude. She's not wrong. And maybe he doesn't have a talented hacker on his side right now, but it's not like he didn't know how to do most of what I did. Hell, he taught me, I just honed the skill."

Michael sighed. "So you're telling me that he'll just track us back and it'll be easier for him to find Naniya?"

"I'm sorry." I said. "I know you had your hopes up. But I don't think this is something that will take less than a year. And if we're going to do it, we certainly can't take the rules into consideration."

Michael pondered on this for a while, pacing. He sighed.

"I will get into so much trouble."

Ryan shrugged. "You could always quit the case."

Michael shook his head. "No way. There are much more important things than preserving the rules. Doing the right thing is one of them."

"What are the other things?" Ryan asked.

Michael turned to us, a confident grin on his face. "Nailing that bastard. That's the more important one."

I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVEN'T UPDATED FOR ALMOST A YEAR. I'm sorry. I'm in college now. Stay tuned. 

-- Amira.