Königsstadt, An-Astral
"Morning Jakob." Ginak stared out of the window of his flat onto the river below, where night still reigned. "What's up?" He pressed the phone closer to his ear.
The sounds of rustling and heavy breathing were all that came through the speaker.
His brows furrowed, the hairs on the corner of the rightmost brushing against the edges of the mobile. "Jakob?"
It was 02:00 - why was Operative Dafkane calling him now? Neither of their personae are supposed to be active at this hour, least of all making noise.
He couldn't stop himself from glancing about the room; it was bad enough that the walls were too thin.
"Ginak! Ginak--" Dafkane gasped in a breath, "--please listen. No, don't talk about names--"
Ginak's mouth snapped shut. He had just been about to take him to task about just that very thing.
"--Have you seen the memo that's come through?"
His frown grew deeper, but he managed to catch his heart before his pulse leaped. "What memo? I haven't had notification of anything."
"It--what?" Dafkane panted even as he interrupted himself.
"Control your breathing, comrade," Ginak whispered into the mouthpiece, "I haven't recieved any memo, no. What's on it?"
It took a second or two of rushing air through the speaker for Dafkane to return. "It's a leak. Someone inside of the Rossian section command has leaked the names and all current alias details of every single field agent. Orders are to return immediately, through whatever means necessary. Burnd as an alias is dead. So is Jakob. So are all of them. Comrade, get out, now."
"Oh," was all Ginak could think of saying. The rest of his brain was spinning. He had trained for this. They all had. They were the best in the world at this. Supposedly.
"All the other Königsstadt operatives got here ten minutes ago. That's why I got concerned you weren't here. Why weren't you told?"
Ginak's eyes closed. He knew exactly why. "Don't wait for me, just go--"
"--But comrade."
"Don't 'but comrade' me. Just leave. Follow the order. It's been an honour, comrade Dafkane. May Guvar guide you. And give merry fucking hell to whichever reactionary bastard did this." He tapped the screen before Dafkane had a chance to reply. The call closed.
"So," he breathed to the room, "this is what it's like." Total recall and redeployment had always been something drilled - meticulously - for, but never carried out. Ginak loosed a silent prayer that all that drilling might actually pay off this time.
The thing with total recall protocols was that lead officers in any particular deployment would always be informed last, normally at least by a few hours, if not more - it was their job to act as bait, to allow the other operatives an easier passage.
Ginak wondered whether the An-astralians were already on their way. He would be surprised if they weren't nearing the block at that very moment. Who knows, they could even be in the stairwell already. A slight tingle ran up his spine. A smile crept on the corner of his lips - he hadn't had that sensation for far too long.
Whatever the authorities had for him, he'd be ready.
Nothing would get in his way of sending the Rossian section command screaming into death.
"Morning Jakob." Ginak stared out of the window of his flat onto the river below, where night still reigned. "What's up?" He pressed the phone closer to his ear.
The sounds of rustling and heavy breathing were all that came through the speaker.
His brows furrowed, the hairs on the corner of the rightmost brushing against the edges of the mobile. "Jakob?"
It was 02:00 - why was Operative Dafkane calling him now? Neither of their personae are supposed to be active at this hour, least of all making noise.
He couldn't stop himself from glancing about the room; it was bad enough that the walls were too thin.
"Ginak! Ginak--" Dafkane gasped in a breath, "--please listen. No, don't talk about names--"
Ginak's mouth snapped shut. He had just been about to take him to task about just that very thing.
"--Have you seen the memo that's come through?"
His frown grew deeper, but he managed to catch his heart before his pulse leaped. "What memo? I haven't had notification of anything."
"It--what?" Dafkane panted even as he interrupted himself.
"Control your breathing, comrade," Ginak whispered into the mouthpiece, "I haven't recieved any memo, no. What's on it?"
It took a second or two of rushing air through the speaker for Dafkane to return. "It's a leak. Someone inside of the Rossian section command has leaked the names and all current alias details of every single field agent. Orders are to return immediately, through whatever means necessary. Burnd as an alias is dead. So is Jakob. So are all of them. Comrade, get out, now."
"Oh," was all Ginak could think of saying. The rest of his brain was spinning. He had trained for this. They all had. They were the best in the world at this. Supposedly.
"All the other Königsstadt operatives got here ten minutes ago. That's why I got concerned you weren't here. Why weren't you told?"
Ginak's eyes closed. He knew exactly why. "Don't wait for me, just go--"
"--But comrade."
"Don't 'but comrade' me. Just leave. Follow the order. It's been an honour, comrade Dafkane. May Guvar guide you. And give merry fucking hell to whichever reactionary bastard did this." He tapped the screen before Dafkane had a chance to reply. The call closed.
"So," he breathed to the room, "this is what it's like." Total recall and redeployment had always been something drilled - meticulously - for, but never carried out. Ginak loosed a silent prayer that all that drilling might actually pay off this time.
The thing with total recall protocols was that lead officers in any particular deployment would always be informed last, normally at least by a few hours, if not more - it was their job to act as bait, to allow the other operatives an easier passage.
Ginak wondered whether the An-astralians were already on their way. He would be surprised if they weren't nearing the block at that very moment. Who knows, they could even be in the stairwell already. A slight tingle ran up his spine. A smile crept on the corner of his lips - he hadn't had that sensation for far too long.
Whatever the authorities had for him, he'd be ready.
Nothing would get in his way of sending the Rossian section command screaming into death.
Harndon
Some wanker with too much time and too little energy.
