17 days later.
Ryan tapped his pen on his desk, the sound resounding through the empty office. The stack of paperwork in front of him wasn’t going to do itself, but the last thing on his mind was recruit progression reports. The paperwork had built up whilst he had been…distracted, but like a faithful animal, it was always waiting.
Jones’ defense had worked for him – a battlefield accident, conflicting priorities, the primary urge not to cause harm to the innocent…It hadn’t come without punishment, harsh punishment, but it was a price he willingly paid, it was better than the alternative.
He carefully read through the report in front of him, one of Emma’s exit reports, she wasn’t happy, but he didn’t care, he wasn’t there to please, he was there to do his job. He gladly signed the piece of the paper that said he was still fit to lead, tucked it into its folder and sent it on.
There was a knock at his door.
‘Come,’ he said.
The door handle twisted and the agent stepped inside, taking small, unsure steps with – apparently afraid of bothering him – a groundless worry, as any distraction from paperwork was a welcome intrusion.
He smiled at his visitor, then stood and extended a hand to the agent, it stared at him for a moment, then grabbed the outstretched hand. ‘Welcome, Agent Mimosa.’