MARIEL

14~ War and Peace ~

When Tira settled into her apartment for the night, an hour after leaving Esther at the hospital entrance, she decided that it was time to tell Aleksey about the current state of affairs. They hadn't spoken since the night of Mariel Nadier's mysterious return, and he had ended the conversation abruptly.

Following the events in Moscow, Tira understood that Aleksey's time was limited, that he now had the duty of explaining his reasoning after the massacre outside of the Grand Kremlin. Because of this, and wanting to avoid the possibility of removal from her post due to an overly emotional Aleksey, Tira had decided to wait until things had calmed before talking to him.

Once arriving home, Tira cleaned her guns, polished and sharpened her knives, perfected her weapons, trying to get Esther -

- the subject -

- from her mind. The incessant questioning had been beyond frustrating. Annoying. And, she had considered pushing her in front of the van. But, upon quick instinct, she had acted and had pulled the brown-haired girl from the oncoming car. It was her job to protect the subject. It filled her bank account. Nothing more.

After showering, wrapping a towel around her wet hair, and tying her robe, Tira folded her legs on the bed and leaned against the headboard. Her new book, War and Peace, lay on the bed. Tira's two cell phones rested at her side. The agent's freshly cleaned weapons surrounded her.

Her eyes shifted to the emergency cell phone, the one she always used to contact Aleksey. However, she found herself reaching for the standard cell. It confused her, because the reasoning was not logical. Reaching for that specific cell phone was not work-related, and it bothered her. Nevertheless, the action felt almost as innate as it had been to pull Esther Caravan from the road.

One text message. Esther Caravan.

'Thanks again for the ride. I'm sorry our banter was cut short. I know you don't give a fuck but I was having a good time. Lol. I guess you made me realize that I don't really spend time with friends either. Anyway, my dad is stable. It was a heart attack.'

Tira did not want to respond, told herself not to respond, because there was no productive reason to return the message. Regardless, she typed.

'Good. I'm glad he's stable.'

To Tira's annoyance, Esther messaged again. 'Thank you. And thanks for the coffee. And telling me your birthday. I know that was extremely painful for you. How are you handling the trauma?'

A smile flickered across her lips. Just as quickly, it went away, as if someone had caught her committing a crime. However, she responded again.

'You think you are funny.'

As Tira leaned her head back and closed her eyes, she thought about her upcoming birthday. Seven. Thirteen. Nineteen. She'd be twenty. She did not care about her birthday, but the mystery of Mariel Nadier had deepened when his father, the priest, had questioned her. It left her feeling vulnerable, as though she no longer had the upper hand in the situation. Originally, she had gone to St. Michael's to meet Nadier's father, to see if he might accidentally reveal any knowledge of Mariel's resurrection. After Fr. Jerome's comment, however, Tira decided that she needed to dig even deeper. In that case, she would meet with him, at the very least, once. To 'find God', of course.

Her phone buzzed. 'You need laughter in your boring life. If you spent some time with me, I bet you'd laugh more.'

Tira stared at the message, felt steady heat creep from her neck, into her cheeks, and into her ears. Her heart pulsed against her chest. Hard. Stiffly, Agent 4 poised her thumbs over the screen. However, she did not know what to say. Tira wanted to end the conversation, wanted to tell the subject to leave her alone, to stop texting her. To stop making her feel so strangely.