Agents of Time: Chapter Nineteen; Deadman walking

James turned, intent on pushing through the crowd leading the way back to the stairwell, when a hand snatched his free arm, stopping him in his tracks. Breath ticked his neck as a voice hissed in his ear, “You got back.”  

James twisted his neck around as Julian released his arm. “You!” James whispered.

Julian smirked, “The one and only.” He swiped a deviled egg from Jame’s tray. “You made it back in time.” He stated before popping a hor d'oeuvre in his mouth. "From where?"

James nodded." The agency, well, I'm sure you can put the pieces together. I had to. What happened while I was gone? How did you get here?”

Julian adjusted the lapel of his deep brown suit. “I’m the Keeper of the Royal Archives, James. I'm here because I'm a guest.” His eyes slid to Verena, who was standing behind James. "You'll be happy to know I haven't run into Tybalt yet. However,” Julian looked over the balcony. “I think I may know where we can find him."

Julian helped himself to another egg. “These are my favourite, you know. Excellent disguise, by the way, although the shoes are a few decades out.” He tilted his head, “It’s time we get down to business. I presume you’re here for the same reason I am. Chances are, the Agency didn’t let you back here willingly.” 

James’s look down. He'd forgotten shoes in his rush to raid the castle for a disguise upon his return. “I saw the history. We're on your side now." 

"You are?" Julian didn't seem convinced. “Is she?" He nodded to Verena, who was standing quietly, staring at the floor below, Watching the scene unfold. Seemly uncaring Julian had shown up.

"Yes." James answered for both. He wasn't sure if Verena fully believed him, but whatever he'd told he had shaken her enough to shatter some of that trust in the Agency. Unfortunately, her confidence had also shattered with it. 

Julian nodded. “Very well. You need to find out your next moves soon, then. We need to get down there. Given you’re here unauthorized now, the Agency will be on your tail soon. You haven’t recognized anyone have you?” Julian frowned, scanning the crowd as they made their way through the hall to the back of the room.

Had he? He cringed at his own sloppiness. One misstep had thrown him off his whole rocker, and now he couldn’t think straight.

 Not even about his own danger. 

 “Nobody, just the royals and what-not.” James reached a hand back for Verena.“Come on, we need to get down there."

Julian rubbed his hands together; “Have you thought of a plan yet then?”

Nope “Keep everyone alive, ourselves included?” James offered.

“Works for me.” Julian said.

The stairs were miraculously clear. Everyone either watching from below or above, nobody wanting to risk missing the scene. James pushed his way through the crowd gathered on the floor, seeking the front. Verena not far behind, Julian taking up the rear. The conversation from the middle clear to hear, nobody else around spoke.

"It is not my right?" The duke said loudly, his words slightly slurred. Was he drunk? Nobody answered his question. 

"Isn’t it?" He said a little louder, a little angrier. "You all know it's true. Cordelia loved me first. We were married before the engagement was even finalized!" 

This drew a collective gasp from around the room, James broke through the front line of bystanders as the duke tugged Darko around. "Come, where is the- Priest! Where- Did I not order the licence to be on site?" 

Darko tried to wiggle out of his grasp. 

"Damon!" the Queen's shriek made him turn back. “You cannot do this. Let him go." 

"Can't I?" The duke's tone went serious. He released Darko, who stumbled a few feet away but didn’t leave the circle. “Can’t I? We were married first, we loved first, Darko was born after your coronation, just after your marriage to Aldrick. Does that not make me the father of the heir to the throne? My son should and will lead this country. " 

"He’s our son. And he." She pointed to the man in priestly garb, who stood at the edge of the crown clutching a piece of paper. Had he been there the whole time?

The Queen continued. “He should also have the papers dissolving our marriage, which are dated a few days after our wedding day. Because somehow it took me that long to realize that you just wanted the throne. This is between us. Leave Darko out of it.

She paused for a breath, hands clenched at her sides. Benedict had disappeared, Darko still stood in the same spot. The king was watching his wife. Something akin to pride simmered in his eyes. 

"Oh, come now, Cordelia don’t pretend you didnt lo-" the Duke said. 

 Cordelia stopped him. "No. No. Maybe I did in some twisted way. But you didn’t love me. Whatever felt, I felt... flattered. And now I love my husband and my sons, and you have no part in this family."

"So, you’re saying it's your fault." The duke smiled. 

"What"

"It’s your fault that this is happening! You just said yourself that you didn’t love me, and yet you married me, had a child with me. I could even argue your current marriage unfounded and therefore Benedict an illegitimate son.” The duke's voice rose as he found new ground.

“I-what?" the queen’s diplomatic confidence broke, and she threw herself at the duke with a powerful scream. The crowd drew back, unsure of what to do about seeing the Queen, who had started plummeting the Archduke with her fists, yelling. Julian pushed past James, running towards the two as they tumbled to the floor, Aldrick following suit. The Queen landed a few oddly aimed but strangely successful hits to the duke before he caught them. "Your wrecking- get off me-" He stuttered.

 The Queen still flailed, twisting her arms this way and that as she tried to free herself from his grasp. “Give me back my son, you, you," she stuttered," you idiot!"

Julian managed to pull her off the duke. "Your Majesty, please-" 

"Let go of me!" she tried to wiggle out of Julian's hold, the struggle causing some of her hairpins to clatter to the floor, freeing blond curls. “I count this as your fault, too! You can't just blame me!” She kicked, one shoe flinging off at him as he stood, he flinched away from it.

"This is nobody's fault but yours, you stupid woman! You're insane. Do you see, this is your queen! Your mad, queen!" The duke said to the crowd. Looking a little more like he did believe she had gone mad.

The Queen finally went quiet, and the entire room seemed to cringe at the duke’s words. 

"Goodness, Mavros, you've dug your grave now." Aldrick finally spoke.

Julian backed away from the Queen.

Cordelia finally spoke, a low tone seething tone. "You’re sick, Mavros. I'm terrified of you, and you know that, you use that. That makes me mad.” Her hand shook as she pointed at him, "You don’t know what it's like to live a life where a spotlight burns your skin at every moment and the whispers threaten to defend you. All the while trying to hold a country together, balancing the winsome desires of a noble class who thinks that having copious amounts of gold in one's coffers grants you wisdom to offer. You took my sanity from me because of your schemes, but you will not take my son, and you will not take my people.”

Archduke Mavros Damon, for what James guessed was the first time in his life, visibly struggled for words. 

Aldrick reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shuddering wife's shoulder. A quiet show of support. 

Julian backed away. He glanced at James and then Verena, who had come up beside James. The crowd finally seemed to be moving. Splitting, almost. Some nobles bled out of the gathering, coming to stand behind the Duke. Others crowded behind the queen, and the three left in the center stared at each other. Darko stood in the middle of it all, unsure of which side he really belonged on.

“This is a coup?” Verena finally said quietly.

“What?” James turned to her.

“Oh. No, I just had a thought that what if this turned into a coup. It just looks like one.”

She was right. Nobody said anything, but the way the room was splitting, they’d have some sort of civil disagreement sooner to later.

Would it act as a good enough distraction? An excuse to make their escape or at least prolong the mission.

Movement caught his eye on the other side of the crowd. Tybalt watched them, his lips framed in a frown as he noticed James' gaze. His disguise wouldn’t fool those who knew him well.

He turned to find Verena. “Tybalt’s seen us, we should-”

James didn’t finish as the boom of the large oak double doors of the ballroom burst open. A flash of light erupted, blinding James.

By the end of this, I’m going to have temporarily lost all of my five senses.

 James clutched his head, tumbling to the floor. Th events of the last mission flooding his head as his mental and physical self was thrown into disorientation.

 Julian exclaimed, but he didn’t hear Verena. 

His eyes stung as he blinked, tears bleeding from his eyes. The surrounding ballroom returned in splotches of colour. As he struggled to his feet, a command boomed about the room, filling his head, “Nobody move!” 

Metallic clicks followed.

Heavy boots thumped methodically around the room.

His heart missed a beat, or two, or three.  

James' head shot up, sending streaks of white pain through his head, his half kneeling stance wobbling even more. His eyes made out the last person he wanted to see right now.

The Director. 

The head of the Agency stood, arms crossed a few feet in front of him, flanked on either side by armed agents. Tybalt, though he could only really see his bright hair right now, mimicked the director's stance to his right.

A frustrated huff sounded, and James remembered Julian. The former agent had found his feet first, and was standing defiantly.

He heard Verena groan in agitation as she slowly rose behind him. James decided he’d stay on the floor until ordered otherwise.

 The director took in the room, now quiet save for the faint ringing in James. head. “You’re supposed to be dead.” The director mused, tilting his head at Julian, his voice gave a slight echo.

“Yeah, well. I got over it.” 

James blinked, clearing the remaining spots from his eyes. His breath rattled in his chest, his pulse thudding in his ears. His brows knitted together, and he huffed, hearing everything too loudly.

Or was it just, quiet? 

Dead quiet.

Despite his previous submission to not move and the Director's warning echoing in his head, James whirled, taking in the scene behind him. The scene from the mansion burned behind his eyes like an overexposed image.

But this, he couldn’t tell it was worse. Every single guest at the ball, save Julian, was stood still. Faces frozen mid-emotion, clothes hanging limp, void of motion, arms caught mid-air. 

Frozen in Time.

A thump on the back made him stumble forward. “Hey!” James turned, stepback to catch his footing. The muzzle of a gun greeted him. Tybalt had taken the opportunity to step forward. “Get up.” He waved the gun.

 James sighed. Great. 

So great. Everything was going, so great. 

“Hands off my operative.” Verena’s confidence returned in her voice.

“Your operative defied orders.” Tybalt.

James considered his next words before speaking. “Technically, I am her operative." 

They were partners, moral murder, conflict and all.

Given the silence that followed, James took an educated guess that there was a staring context occurring between the two agents. 

With his fuzzy view of the gun barrel and Tybalt’s legs, he saw the director wave his hand in dismissal. "Just keep an eye on him, and him." He pointed a finger at Julian, who was prodded over to James by another armed and masked gunman.

"Quite a party now." Julian mused as he was forced to a kneel.

James nodded. Invisible bugs crawled up his spine. His back turned to a room full of frozen people, ominously out of sight. “Where is he?” he said in a low tone as Tybalt knelt on the floor beside him.

"Who?" Julian leaned slightly closer.

"The, Y’know." James mimed putting a crown on his head. 

Julian gave a quick glance. "I’m not sure, I don’t see him with the royals, maybe he entered the crowd at one point? However, if we don’t know, then at least they don't."

James was too busy watching Verena to answer. The Director had summoned her aside, the rest of the armed men standing with their backs to two, providing a shield o their bodies and conversation. Was she in trouble? Or did the director still think her loyal.? Was she still loyal? Had James misinterpreted her reaction, or had she rationalized it? Either way, as soon as the director had shown up, she’d slipped some sort of mask back on.

He sat back on his heels, knees aching from the hardwood floors. At least they hadn’t bound their hands. James started at the ceiling, trying to consider a plan going forward, or at least interpret the director's next plans.  

If the Director had tracked him here, clearly, he wasn’t about to let this mission go off the rails a second time. Or he was scared of what James may say, or what he already had. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come, army and all looked at Julian, who was eyeing up the men watching them, likely trying to find a way out. 

James studied what he could see of Verena and the Director through the circle of men. The Director must be asking for a mission report, whether the mission and been completed, what they had learned, what James had been doing. He'd want to know why James went back and what they knew. Finding them alongside Julian would have been incriminating enough.

This wasn’t the first time he'd strayed from his post, his assignment. This just happened to be the most remarkable one. Sure, he’d always come back. It was just a habit of chasing late-night leads, a spur-of-the-moment judgment call. Not this existential crisis that he'd stumbled into.

"Is there a reason elimination the Torin is so important? I get that it's competition and they can be annoying. But it seems a bit extreme.” James said.

Julian chuckled. “Think abut it. What do you do, who do you work for? The less interference, the happier the client, the more money. Eliminating the Torin opens up a higher and fast succuss rate. Happier clientele. The Agency is a business. A business of a lack of morals. You're not the good guys. Your soldiers clad in business suits with special skillsets. Good guys, bad guys — it's all subjective to viewpoints, morals, politics, and egos.” He looked pointedly at the director.

 "You're doing wonders for my existential crisis, Julian," James groaned. Of course it was a cooperate money scene. Was nothing sacred anymore?

 Another thought popped into James’s mind. “The Director is not immortal, is he?"

Julian gave him a strange look. “No, but he bears the same grudge his father, and his grandfather before did. The Torin interfere with your plans frequently; it would make sense to cut out the problem at the root."

James reeled back the information in his mind. Everything they'd worked on, and for, was all dirty work?

How long had the director been trying to get rid of the Torin? How many of their missions were purely selfish intent and not actually benefiting society? Not actually helping people. Instead of cutting back on the greed and corruption, they were adding to it.

Julian touched his shoulder, shaking him out of his thoughts.” I really didn’t mean to break this to you all now. I know it's likely a shock.”

Their conversation halted as the gunmen guarding Verena and the director, letting Verena pass while the director gestured Tybalt over.

She waited until she reached them to speak, kneeling down Infront of him. " I told him I didn’t know who the heir was."

“This means you're with us? "Julian said, doing his best to look disinterested. “What is he planning?”

She took a breath. “Sure. I’m not totally sure what he’s planning. I bluffed, saying you hadn’t told us anything about your mission, or what you knew, simply that we knew that you were a deserter. The Director is also under the impression that James escaped back to rejoin me. Not to sabotage the mission.”

Julian eyed the Director. "He's letting you speak to me

The Director caught James’ eye, before his gaze slid to Julian. “I want him interrogated. Trust nothing he says outright until you pass it by me. He's a liar and a deserter."

"Golly, if I'm a liar, what does that make you?" Julian scoffed “I'll tell you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

 “I said I’d personally interrogate you about who the heir was. Don’t provoke him.” Verena lowered her voice and gave him a hard look.

“Oh.” Julian paused. “And this interrogation starts, when?”

“Now.” Verena reached down and hauled Julian up by the collar. “I hope you're as good an actor as you were an agent.”

She gave James a look as she dragged Julian out of the ballroom. Observe and listen. Julian, to his credit, played the part of looking plenty annoyed as he fought her grip.

James turned as heavy boots thumped on the wood floor, coming his way. A shadow fell over him as the Director look down at him. “I’m disappointed in you, Vangelis.”

“And that surprises you, sir?” the added honorific came partly from habit, but James hope it sounded like spite.

 His boss didn’t answer, instead, he addressed the armed men in the area. “I want King and Jameson detained after Agent Laufy is finished with her interrogating. In the meantime, Marcel, I want you guarding him.” He gestured to Tybalt. “The rest of you fan out and search.

“Search for whom, sir?” A tall man asked. James recognized him as one of the task force leaders.

“Two young men wearing the royal sigil.” the Director flashed a gold pin engraved with a coat of arms. “With blond or brown hair and young.” He turned to James with raised eyebrows. “Anything to add to that?

“I will neither deny nor confirm that description.” James shifted his stance, bringing both knees off the floor and rocking back onto his feet, balancing on his tiptoes. From anyone else’s view, it should just look like he was giving his knees a break. But to him, he was ready to spring up at a moment's notice.

He watched the Director as he turned away with narrowed eyes, Tybalt, still guarding him from a reasonable distance, stepped up and gave him a small kick. To which James raised an eyebrow at him. Verena had said to listen and observe, but it didn’t hurt to ask some questions.

“So, you were where to spy on us then?” James said.

“What?” Tybalt frowned.

“Well it’s obvious I was brought back because the Director doesn’t trust me enough, ironically, even though he sent me with Verena in the first place. Besides, the mission wasn’t getting done fast enough. So, you forced me back so that I’d be labelled as a deserter, and you were sent to confirm and impress that upon Verena. Therefore, dissolving the long-built trust between us and giving her extra fuel to finish the mission. Correct.”

“Yes?” Tybalt didn’t seem happy to admit it.

“I see. So, what happens now? I mean, obviously you're going to get the mission done, Y’know kill the heir. Who was that again?”

“We don’t know. Remember, that was your job to figure out.”

“Yes you do.” He needed to see if it was possible if they had been able to access the archies records when they went back for Julian. Tybalt could be bluffing.

“No, we don’t.”

“Alright, you don’t.” James looked down at the floor, so they really didn’t know. At least they had that playing card against them. They just needed to make sure that it stayed that way.

He peeked up. The Director had his back turned, and Tybalt was looking at the doorway Verena had disappeared to with his arms crossed. May as well make a break for it. If he could stall for enough time, Verena could get away with Benedict before anyone got suspicious.

He sprung up. Launching himself under and past both men, before twisting and sprinting around them.

“Hey!’ Tybalt yelled. Footsteps followed as the gunmen gave pursuit. At least they weren’t shooting. James headed toward the stairwell that led up to the balcony.

Verena reappeared in the doorway, her brow furrowed as soon as she made eye contact with James. She hauled Julian in front of her, arms behind his back as she marched him forward. The archivist looked decidedly weaker, his hair and clothing messed. Had she actually taken her fists to him?

What the he- She mouthed.

 James winced. Bad timing. He looked over his shoulder. Tybalt was hot on his heels, fuming as brightly as his red hair. He heard Julians triumphant shout as he wrestled out of Verena’s grip, taking advantage of the situation to follow along behind Tybalt, taunting him with the choice. James could almost laugh, it looked ike some sort of lethal conga line.

He yielded, coming to a halt, his hands up, Tybalt slammed into him, wrestling his arms behind his back and forcing him to his knees like he was a convict. Seconds later, he was kicked forward. Tybalt cried out angrily, and James turned, finding Julian with his arms around him, locking him in a chokehold.

“Easy there, Ginger. You were always trigger-happy.” Julian smiled, enjoying having his former co-worker in his grasp.

“Get off me.” Tybalt reached up and grabbed Julian's shoulder and then ducked his upper body towards the ground. Leveraging his new center of gravity to flip Julian over him, who landed on the ground in front of him. “Stay there.” Agent Corbin planted a boot on Julian's chest, knocking the air out of him.

The Director passed them. “Do your job, Corbin.”

Tybalt huffed, reluctantly leaving Julian to the armed men who followed the director. He grabbed and twisted James' arm. “You won’t be lucky today.”

James kept his eyes glued on Verena, who met the Director a few feet away from them. “Sir. He doesn’t seem to know.”

The Director studied her for a few moments. Verena was lying. Question was did the Director really believe her? He believed her interrogation tactics, but did he sense she hadn’t really used them?

Instead of answering, he grabbed Julian's face, forcing him to look up. “I’ve reviewed the files, including the brief Jamesson gave when we pulled him back. Maybe you didn't know the heir to the throne when you fled your assignment, but you certainly know it now. I'd be in your best interest to tell me."

"What, or you'll kill me? You’ll do that anyway. I’m a deadman walking. I know things you don't want anyone to know," Julian said.

"You think they’d believe you? A deserter? You abandoned your people. You got your operative killed.

"You killed my operative, not me."

 The Director stared at him, a calculating stare. The kind that harboured cold and quiet fury. Then he turned and levelled a pistol at James. The men let him go and stepped out of the line of fire. "All in good business, Laufy. Your operative abandoned you and your mission, you know what this means." he spoke, staring at James, yet sensing Verena’s flinch. “If you don’t tell me, Julian, then I will make sure this operative's blood is on your hands.”

James froze. He'd been at the business end of a pistol plenty of times, more than he could count. This was personal, real. The floor shifted. Was he shaking? Calm yourself, breathe.

He forced himself to relax. The more tense he was, the less of a reaction he could give if the pistol did fire, or if he could get out of the line of fire beforehand. 

"Director-" Verena started her voice cracked.

"Laufy.” the Director's tone warned he wasn't open to negotiation. She fell quiet. James strained his eyes, trying to see her in his side vison. If he could just tell her off, tell her to find Benedict, hide him. Do something to keep him out of the agency's reach for now. 

Julian looked torn, his eyes darting between James and Verena.

A click drew everyone's attention back to the gun as the Director cocked it. " Which one is it? Benedict or Darko?" The Director challenged Julian. 

Julian licked his lips, opened, then closed his mouth.

Who would he sentence? James wiggled his fingers, flicking them as if shooing a fly, hoping to get Verena’s attention. 

Go, go find the heir.

Julian eyes darted to James side, he knew what he was doing. Verena held James eyes for another solid second before she grit her teeth. If you die, I’ll kill you. Before she turned and left the room, undetected as all eyes were on James.

 "Benedict, Prince Benedict, stands in line to the throne." Julian exhaled.

A sharp tilt of the head was all the reply he got — a signal. The Tybalt moved to Julian, kicking into the back of his knees, forcing the former agent to kneel, before half dragging him out of the room. "You won't get away-Ouch- With this- quite shoving, I can walk!" Julians last words echoed behind him. 

A metallic click sounded again; The Director lowered the gun, tucking it back in his coat. James exhaled, resisting the urge to sink to the floor in relief. “I’ll deal with you later Vangelis.”

"Search for the man I send you." The Director spoke into his watch, updating the search crew.

So, they hadn’t known who it was all along. That, at least, had been a small truth. A reply fizzed out of the watch, after which the Director turned once again to James. “Maybe I’ll let you live, so how about you tell me everything. Julian, to-Where is Laufy?" He frowned.

James shrugged. “I'm not her keeper."

"You were her partner. Give me your watch." The Director hastened towards him, a hand outstretched 

James fished the silver watch and chain out of his jacket, dangling it in front of the Director. 

"Don’t tease me Jameson. Your not in my good books and if you want to get back in them I’d suggest you cooperate."

"I don’t think I ever was. Frankly, I don’t think I ever would be and certainly won’t be now.” He tucked the pocket watch away and lifted his empty wrist, "Seems I've lost it. " Thank goodness he’d ditched the watch in a puddle on his way here.

The Director's gaze darkened. "you're a fool.”

"At least I'm an educated fool, sir." 

All he saw was the tilt of the Director's chin before a hard object hit the back of his head, reverberating through his teeth, knocking him to the cold floor