He took more notes sitting at his desk as he thought about it. The implants tied the UDP, at least to some degree, to English, at least a common frame of reference. As much as Henri might object, it might finally be time to have another discussion with Guggenheim. Well, I guess Henri didn’t really have to know. There were a lot of things he could shed light on, and supposedly was an enemy of English, but that didn’t make him the good side. Besides, Henri should quit playing around and get together with Bryan. I’m sure they’d take relationship advice from him, but one thing he could speak to is regret.
He really needed to get through these reports from the last couple weeks here at the Paragon Center. He had great people, but, well, he had great people and they knew he hadn’t been around or frankly paying attention.
But he couldn’t focus. He only had a few hours here before he needed to be back to pick them up to go out tonight, and he still didn’t have a fucking clue on where to take Olivia, and well, Amelia too obviously. He’d thought about asking Mum when he took her to lunch after the interrogation, but he’d still been in questioner mode, and, well, it didn’t feel right. She looked so….old, frail, so different from the vibrant, hard working woman he’d always known, that she appeared to be when they went home. He still didn’t understand what had happened, and he was afraid to ask questions about anything if he was really honest. He was certain that he knew who Olivia really was, and, he wasn’t sure she could handle it. Or handle the fact that Amelia and Mum had apparently stayed closely in contact over the last years. Amelia knew he’d been alive, knew Bryce had been at least.
“Fuckin’ Bogan’s balls!” he yelled in frustration. The low murmuring from outside his office cut off abruptly, followed shortly by a knock on the door. He took a breath to refocus, before stating, “It’s open.”
Sergeant Sarah Lincoln opened the door and then walked in, but paused, waiting for Officer Lindsay Whitaker to come in, before shutting the door behind her. Sara looked determined, as usual, like the no-nonsense homicide detective she used to be. Her experience with the Infinity Force in New York, and frankly the experiences she’d encountered after twenty years in the NYPD as both a detective, female, and an officer of mixed ethnicity had been invaluable here at the Paragon Center in understanding people, and their fears. Which made it interesting that she was here with Lindsay, who as a patrol officer from a small town in N. Dakota had not provided her with near the same experiences. Instead, he’d hired her because she’d been at the Chargers game on vacation with some local friends when the incident occurred. He’d promised to help her, and then obviously done a piss more job of doing so as he ignored so many things over the last few months.
“Sarah, Lindsay, what can I do for you,” as he glanced at the wall noting that Sarah was the shift commander and Lindsay should be off duty today.
“Sir,” started the sergeant, “I have some recommendations for the expansion of the teams to cover the commissioner’s security details as the campaign ramps up. Both suggestions from when I had to do VIP detail in New York, and, well, there are several people who have come here to apply for your security company, in person, as opposed to the online process. You probably need to set up a more formal space, either here or somewhere else, if you or, well, Dr Foster plans on expanding the security services much further.”
“I am sure we can take the empty space down the hall, but, if we do expand, I’ll have to look at more supervisory personnel,” noting the spike in scent that almost certainly meant Lincoln was pleased, “but we are also going to have to look at real business plans and methodologies, as we are going to have to prove profitability, and frankly, I’m swamped. I will think about it. We can review your suggestions in a few moments.”
“That addresses the Sergeant’s initial reason for being here, Lindsay, but what can we do for you? Especially on your day off.”
“I want to volunteer to serve on the commissioner’s detail.”
He sat there for a few moments. “May I ask why? You know its just temporary right, win or lose?” And tried very hard not to look at the sergeant.
“I don’t want to leave the Paragon Center, sir, I’d just like to work it on my days off. She needs to win sir, and anyway I can help, I want to help.”
Smiling slightly as she sounded so much like a earnest young officer that it brought back memories. She continued, filling the pause, “I’ve been having, well….issues, adapting sir.”
Wiping the smile from his face, he nodded, “I see. Well, obviously the sergeant thinks this is a good idea, or she wouldn’t be here. I’m not opposed to it, but you have to be in control. Regardless of what we may all want, if you slip up and it’s caught that her security team has, extra abilities, it will have terrible ramifications for the campaign, or so I have been informed.”
“I understand sir, I just want to help anyway I can to change the way everyone looks at us, at all of us,” replied the blue eyed, brunette former cheerleader from Killdeer, North Dakota.
“I’ll review it with the campaign manager. I don’t understand all the politics, but I will get back to you soon.”
“Thank you sir. I appreciate the possibility.”
“She’s a good kid. She listens, she accepts criticism, she’s smart. Damn near a perfect candidate.”
“I know that Sarah, even with as little as I have been here the last few weeks. But is she having trouble controlling herself, or is she having trouble with the idea?”
“More the latter, and more her family back home I think. But that stress causes problems.”
“Well, I will see what we can do. There are less visible spots on those teams too.” He sighed. “Alright, let’s start looking at the expansion plans and the potential candidates. I have an hour before I need to leave again.”
“Of course, Oliver. Dr. Foster running you ragged again?
He chuckled, “Well, yea, of course, but tonight’s personal,” he replied.
“Hot date with your friend, again?” She smiled.
He grimaced, “No, unfortunately not. She’s been…..ill. Tonight, though, I’m taking an old family….friend to dinner, and her daughter. They just moved to the area from Australia,” he paused again, thinking. “Speaking of that….I’m not really sure where to go. Any thoughts on what the hell a thirteen year old girl would like to do?”
“Well, what’s she interested in?”
“Well, racing….that motor-cross stuff. I assume video games. I’ll be honest, I don’t really have a clue.”
She looked at him intently for a moment, sensing after twenty years of detective work that he was much more interested in the answers, even though his confusion seemed….true.
“Boss, you really need to get out more, you’ve been in San Diego way longer than me……but, since you don’t have a clue,” and she smiled brightly at being able to throw his words back at him, “there’s a massive complex down near the interchange of I-8 and the 805. A Dave & Busters, and one of those places that has miniature golf, go-carts etc. Take them there. Unless of course their upper class like some of the ‘elites’ around here.”
He laughed at that, “No, definitely not. Thanks though, least if I’m horrible company like usual there will be stuff to fill in the gaps.”
“Anyway, let’s look at these proposals.”
Last Dreams 