Agents of Time: Chapter Four; Rewrite history

Verena peeled off her wet button up, leaving her in a tank top and a bulletproof vest. She dumped the wet shirt on the floor of the car. She cringed, her gun was buried somewhere in the rubble. She’d forgotten to retrieve it while dragging the Premier out. Not that there had really been time. Hopefully, it had melted enough that it wouldn’t be traceable. Either way, the director wouldn’t be thrilled.

You need to do better.

At least being damp in the chill air of the night took the edge off being near a burning building. She flexed her hands. Nothing seemed burnt, just dry.

 As the car slowed for a stoplight. She checked the mirrors before turning in her seat again to make sure they hadn’t been followed. The street empty behind them, save for the dark cars parked along the sidewalk.

Verena sat back and looked at her partner, allegedly unable to hear properly, and as covered in ash as she was, he had been strangely quiet. Probably lost in his thoughts. Or maybe the hearing loss had been caused by a punch or two to the face He hadn’t told her. Should he even be driving?

She decided to test his response reflexes. “You look like a raccoon with that ash on your face.”

He blinked and looked at her. “Did you say something?” His tone too loud.

She nodded.

“Oh.” He turned back to the road as the light turned green. “My hearing seems to come and go.” He paused, rubbed his ear like it would help, brow furrowed. “What happened back there?”

Verena glanced behind the seats, the unconscious Premier lay sprawled out in the back. He was still alive, right?

She twisted out of her seat belt and held a few fingers under his nose. Air brushed past them. He was breathing. That was something.  

He checked his pulse next. Slow and steady. Likely just passed out from the night’s events. He’d be a little bruised, but the orders were to keep him alive.

What had happened?

“I’m not sure.” She said. “Let’s say the tip we got was real, and there was a viable threat to the Premier’s life. Or it was a trap. Maybe the Torin wanted to get us out, frame us for the event. Either way the Torin seem to be our prime suspects. Whatever the reason, someone either wanted to get rid of us to the Premier, question is, was that a rigged explosion or did they get lucy with some freak force of nature.”

Not to mention, who had called it in? Did the Torin have some other enemies that snitched on them? Did someone else hold a grudge? Or was it a simple and plain, kill two birds with one stone trap, and they’d called it in themselves.

“I don’t think natural earthquakes normally start things on fire that…explosively,” James glanced in the rear-view mirror. “I don’t think earthquakes naturally act like that either.”

No, they don’t.

 “Did the blueprints say anything about an underground bunker?” Verena was tempted to pull up the holographic display of them.

James took a moment to process her words, once again not quite understanding them. “No?”

“We’ll wait until we get back to HQ to figure it out.”  Verena decided, looking out the window as the car left the quiet residential streets and moved into the highway towards an overpass.

James hummed in reply, and, keeping on eye on the approaching pass, he pressed a button under the steering wheel.

The space under the overpass shimmered, purple sparkles being swept up into a whorl that intensive as they got closer. Until the purple washed over them, cutting out the view of the cityscape roadway, to reveal a circular, brightly lit cement tunnel.

Verena crawled into the back of the car as James steered them out of the tunnel. They entered a facility resembling an underground parking garage. Except instead of housing common vehicles crammed together with tickets tucked into the windshield wipers. This one was an expansive space filled with anything. High-performance cars to tactical armored vehicles. All of which was buried in the depths of the Bavarian Alps.

As James parked the car next to an armoured truck, Verena  crawled into the back and scooped the unconscious Premier up, pulling him towards the hatch. It hummed and opened slowly to reveal two agents, tidily dressed in suits. Clean suits.

She on the other hand, was starting to feel like a damp sponge left to dry on the side of the sink. Probably smelt like one too.

“He’s alive, just unconscious. Physically he shouldn’t have more than a few bruises or scrapes, but have a physician check him over.” She said as she stepped out of the back of the car. Fighting to stay composed despite the rest of her body wanting to cave into a deep sigh, jump into a pool and stay there for a bit. They nodded and pulled a gurney up to the car and placed the Premier onto it with practiced hands.

 Verena dusted her hands. Ash floated into the air. Her job was done here. They’d take care of the rest. She glanced at the Premier once more as James closed the hatch behind her. What had made someone want to blow him to smithereens so much? The masked men who had temporarily hijacked their car returned to her mind. Did the Torin have something against him? Or was it just a trap for them?.

James tapped his watch against a metal post by the car, checking the vehicle back in. “Time for a shower.”  He announced all to loudly, his voice echoing through the garage.

“You need to get your hearing checked.” She noted the small tracs of dried blood marring his right ear.

“You need to get your-” James scanned her. “Everything checked. Theres no way you go out of there unscathed.”

“I’m fine.” She waved him off. She should get checked, but nothing was beating feeling warm and clean right now. “See you at the briefing.”

“Alright.” James looked dejected.

Verena approached the cement wall in front of the car, a doorlike line engraved in it. Pressing her watch to the wall, the lines glowing purple, the cement within shimmered, like the teleportation portal from earlier.

Verena stepped through. James was still watching her, clearly set on not leaving until she vanished.

The man’s ears were bleeding, and he was more worried about her. 

Savouring the warm, clean comfort of her quarters didn’t last long. Shortly after dressing in a pair of black cotton slacks and a crewneck cropped sweater, her watch pinged. An alert glowed on the screen. Report to the meeting room.  

 Verena pressed her watch to the door to her quarters, it lit up like the portal door in the garage, and allowed her to step through it, and out into another space.

The meeting room was an understatement to describe the space. This hidden corner of the Agency was where the Director conducted all his important business. It was roughly the size of a roomy studio penthouse apartment. Or maybe it just seemed that way. The dark walls soaked up any light emitted from the old lamps mounted to the walls, leaving only the pale light that emerged through a stained-glass dome standing above the other end of the room.  All posing in dire contrast to the cement platform beneath it, sporting a circular set of holographic screens.  

A silhouette of a figure stood within the screens, his back to her, focused on a task, the man responsible for the everyday running of the Agency, the Director.

She glanced over her shoulder. James wasn’t here yet.

She stepped off the tele-pad, one of the few in the agency.  They were locked to entry unless summoned, unlike the tele-doors which let anyone who possessed a watch through.  

James boots tapped behind her as he appeared on the platform. Before Verena could turn, the Director spoke.

“Welcome, Agent Laufy, Operative Vangelis.” He addressed their respective positions as he turned to face them. The blue lights of the screens cast a ghostly light on his dark skin, his blonde hair turning silver as it cast a sharp rim light over the long leather cloak shrouding his figure.

Verena fell in step with James, stopping just a few feet from the platform. One of the screens played a muted video feed. A shaky video of a news camera and anchorwoman standing outside the gates of the Governor's house, still smoldering.

“I know you typically don’t debrief in my office, but I have something to descuis as soon as possible.” He motioned to the sceens. “I’ll step back, their all yours”

The Director stepped off the platform, retreating to his desk set in a nook on the otherside of the room.

Verena stepped up on the platform and approached one o the screens. The debrief, a questonair like documents, was already up on the screen. She pulled the keyboard up and started typing.  It was all familiar, basic info really. Dates, times, what and where, faces recognized. Her fingers paused. Faces recognized? She’d never seen Tybalt after she exited the building. Granted, she was a little preoccupied, and he could take care of himself well enough. Chances were he was likely kept back for questioning, given his position as an undercover agent in the premier's close circle.

Verena gave her last sentence a read. Lips moving soundlessly. Satisfied it made sense she clicked the submit button. James was still finishing up his report, arms crossed as he read his work. The Director shuffled a few papers on his desk and then lifted and tapped them on the desk top to even the stack out. The sound echoed, a sign to hurry up.

James straightened and clicked submit. “Done, sir.”

“As am I.” Verena stepped off the platform.

“Excellent. Now” He lifted a pair of files up. “I have a new mission for you two.”

A new mission? Already? Usually, they had at least twenty-four hours to recover. James tried to catch her glance as the Director turned to his screens.

One of the screens in front of the Director expanded, filling the space in-between him and the two agents. He handed them both files. One of the few things they kept analog in the Agency, Buring paper was a lot easier than trying to permanently delete data. Especially on such a large scale.

Environmentally it was the slightly better option than employing the amount of data centers that would be required to store all the ever-changing mission information.  Only the finalized single copy of the completed mission was saved digitally. Of course, the argument between cutting down trees to make the paper and how much water the data centers used, was forever ongoing.

Verena kept her eyes on the screen. James however was already nose deep in the file.

A map and a castle were enlarged on the screen, large letters pasted across the top. COUNTRY: Belacruv. PLACE: Houndsworth Estate, Mannington. Location: British Isles.

None of them seemed familiar, but the British Isles? There wasn’t any such country called Belacruv located in the UK.

“Sir?” James spoke up beside her. “I think the handler has gotten the date in my alias wrong? It says I was born in the year nineteen hundred?”

“No, that is correct.” The Director didn’t elaborate right away, clearly savouring their confusion.

The handlers never made mistakes. Verena peeled open her own case file, flipping through the few pages until she landed on the alias page. A page outlined with two identities: her true one and her alias. Usually, each agent had a range of years they could “play” these changed as the agents themselves agreed, but they generally were within a few years of their real age.  

She traced her finger across the alias,

 Lady Vanessa Parker, of House Codith.

Age Twenty-Two,

Birth Year: Eighteen Ninety-Nine.

Verena read it again.

Lady? What was this some sort of roleplay carnival mission?

“I’m sure your confused.” The Director smiled

“Yeah no kidding sherlock,” James mumbled, just loud enough for Verena to hear.

“If you flip to the first page, I will explain.” The Director waved at the files.

Paper rustled as both agents flipped the loose pages, James flipping too fast. One page fluttered to the ground, landing in a pocket of light like a prophecy.

Both agents automatically bent to pick it up, Verena got to it first. Technical specs were laid out on it, along with sketch of a large boxy machine, with a circular loop in the center.

James peered over her shoulder. “Time Machine?” He read the title at the top. Verena let him pluck it out of her hands.

This has to be some sort of joke

The Directors smile widened. “It’s brilliant isn’t it. The ultimate power, the ability to converse through time.”

The Agency was ahead of the curve in terms of technologic advancements, but-time travel? Verena stared blankly at her file.

“I’m sorry-sir, are you saying that we’ve invented time travel?” James’s voice was dripping with anticipation, his tone once again a bit too loud. Of course. He’d be thrilled by this prospect.

“You would be correct, yes,” The Director said warmly. “Your mission is to travel back in time to the fallen country of Belacruv. You will be ensuring that its reign falls earlier than in the current timeline, as well as unseating the heir to the throne by whatever means possible.”

“Whatever, sir?” James’s tone fell.

“Whatever.”

“This is a diplomatic mission, then?” Verena pushed the time traveling to the back of her mind.

“In a way, yes, it’s an undercover one. Agent Laufy will be taking the place of a Viscountess, drafted as a lady-in-waiting to her Majesty the Queen, and James will be the chauffeur she brings from her personal estate. A gesture of goodwill from the family to help the royal family adjust to the newfound world of automobiles.”

 A viscountess. A lady. That sounded so sophisticated. Verena examined the screens again, studying the castle.

The Director contained talking. “We’ve calculated your arrival to the approximate coordinates of the main road that leads to Belacruv. There you will intercept the car carrying the real Lady Lavenia and her chauffeur. You will take their place, making sure to strip them of any documents that would prove their legitimacy, and get rid of them. Then you will continue onto the castle, where you will establish your cover. You will be working largely independently. It’s hard to monitor and contact you over time. We have deducted that we will be able to communicate to a limited extend on the watches. You can give us updates, and we can contact you if needed. However, I’m sure with your expertise and track record that won’t be necessary.”

Travel back in time, unseat an heir, change the route of history as they knew it, and then come back as if nothing had changed. It sounded so simple, yet so impossible.   Verena’s head buzzed with uncertain questions, while beside her, James seemed to be vibrating with excitement.   

Would it be safe? Has it been tested? How did they know who the heir was? How much would this alter history? How did they-

“If you two would follow me.” The Directors voice broke through her thoughts. She glanced back up at him as he vanished from the platform The teleportation portal build into it, sparkled purple, beckoning them.  Another one of the restricted paths that only the Director and those he chose could access.

James beat her too it, spinning on his heel to face her as he jumped into the portal. “See you on the other side!”

If only she could be as excited as he was about this.