FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Parasite is the third part of The Underground series

Chapter 19 of 29

Beyond Committed

"We're looking at possible radiation exposures in the tens of thousands, and that's just Portside. Casualties will be far less, but the mass panic in the aftermath will be a bloody nightmare."

Leaned over an aerial grid-map of Arcadia nearly the size of the table in the booth where they sat, Trilby's one good eye absorbed the image, processing the figures of distance and the destructive nature of Isis's dirty bomb. "With the prevailing winds that blowing inland, it wouldn't surprise me if half the city risks contamination. That is, if this bomb is as powerful as your friend Stallard claims." Trilby paused for a moment, looking up. "I'd like a bit more than his word on the matter. Don't you have any hard data?"

The middle-aged cat breathed in deeply on his glowing cigarette. Basking in the calming smoke that filled his lungs like a cold air, it felt like tiny fingers just massaged away the stress. Sure, they're unhealthy as all damnation, but anyone who says there isn't a calm in the smokey vice clearly didn't know what they were talking about. And sure, Trilby was very aware that he could die as a result of tobacco use. But when you watch your wife operate as the face of a being who's done such monstrous things as Isis had, you'd take any calm you could find. Trilby figured he'd earned his right to smoke freely. Besides, he was dying; everyone was dying.

One breath at a time.

"No stats sheets, if that's what you mean. Besides, I've seen it, and I'm more than willing to believe it'll do whatever Mick has in mind." Alias said slowly, eyes scanning over the map. "The meeting with Mihailov is a week from tomorrow, so next Wednesday." Trilby nodded as he spoke, noting the delivery date. It was time to bring in the OCB. "Jenna broke the activation code; thank God she knows what she's doing. Point is, the bomb could be activated at any time."

"From on site, that is..." Trilby raised and eyebrow. "Yes?"

Alias nodded. "Keep your boys watching their satellites. You'll know if she tries remotely. I don't think we have any reason to doubt Mick on that." Alias replied, leaning against the backrest on the opposite side of the booth. "At this point, I can say honestly, I don't have any reason not to trust him."

"But no reason to either." Trilby asked, smoke escaping slowly from his nostrils as he breathed out.

Down some streets and through some alleys, Trilby found his own personal oasis in the sea of urban madness in Arcadia. That oasis came in the form of Uncle Curley's Basement. The bar could be cool and calm during the daylight hours, keeping the decibel level down for the Bloody Mary crew of the morning. At night, the Basement changed fundamentally, going from calm and empty to packed and loud. It was a local hotspot for underground jazz bands and illegal poker tournaments. It always reminded him of a bar that was displaced in time. Like a time vortex had swept up a speakeasy from many decades ago and dropped it in the middle of his contemporary society. However, when no live band was available, such as it was during the daylight hours, jazz was still played on the speakers around the gin joint. Tables were still pushed together from last night's card game and ashtrays still held the burnt, grey remains of spent cigarettes. An ancient piano, which had been there probably since the bar's construction, was pushed to the wall out of the way. The musical relic's wooden surface showed signs of wear and use, accented my little rings on the handles were drinking glasses had been placed without the protection of a coaster. It was your typical hole-in-the-wall bar, tobacco smoke fogging the darkened ceiling, creating ghostly clouds around the low hanging yellow lamps over the tables. It was a great place to be unnoticed, and that's why Trilby loved it.

Alias sat there, head turned away, looking out in the direction of the front door. Just watching. "I didn't say that." He replied after a moment. "Don't have any reason to trust you either."

Inhaling again, drawing in the smoke, Trilby nodded. It was a fair point. That night when he'd approached Alias, his balls had been screwed on tight. He had no idea who Alias was, if he was sane, if he was interested, or what his relationship with Isis was. For all Trilby knew, Alias had been on her payroll for years. However, after watching Alias's reaction after Isis "recruited" him so to speak, it became clear that Alias wasn't pleased about working for her.

This automatically gave Trilby the in with Alias; the common interest of watching Isis burn. Had the reaction been different, there surely were other methods of coercing Alias to help. Knowing the lengths he was willing to go to enlist Alias's company to help him, Trilby honestly didn't know who was worse; him or Isis. Thankfully, that's not how things had gone down, but knowing that willing side was part of him made him think.

"Enemy of my enemy." Trilby replied in a monotone voice, still studying the map. "And I worked for the government, so of course I'm doing what's right." He followed up dryly.

At this, Alias let out what sounded like a combination of a scoff, snort and laugh, sarcastically smiling for the briefest of moments. The black fox slowly shook his head, dismissing the notion. "Right..."

"Don't have high opinions of us G-Men, do you?" Trilby asked, not offended, as he knew what kind of threat they posed to Alias's lifestyle. Naturally, he didn't expect Alias to be fond of law enforcement agencies such as the OCB.

He shrugged, not seeming to care. "Just another slave to The Man. Just a different kind of man." Alias replied simplistically. There were no personal feelings in the matter, just a solid fact to him. "In the end I guess it's just where you interests lay. For God and country or anarchy and opportunity."

"How is the last land of opportunity treating you?" Trilby asked, again feeling the rush of the burning smoke that somehow chilled him.

"No better than the alternative world." Alias replied, paw resting on the edge of the table, slowly rotating a glass of scotch. "Less rules, more people there to make sure you're put in your place. In your world, it's conform or die; in mine, it's fight or die. We have to prove we're worthy of living every day. Your people don't have to make that kind of choice, but you submit to a higher authority sacrificing your free will. Which is better?" He raised his eyebrows in the form of a shrug, uncaring. "Regardless, the challenge of my reality is finding a way to prove you are worthy enough to live. Those who can't..." He shook his head firmly. "They don't last long."

"Grim outlook on life." Trilby replied, slowly exhaling the harsh cigarette smoke. "So far your perspective on this whole thing isn't exactly blowing my skirt up."

"Maybe..." Alias replied, slowly bringing his glass to his lips taking a small sip. "I just don't sugar coat what my life is. That's all. I don't want anyone to be under false pretenses of what my life is."

"Delusion is a powerful thing." Trilby replied, ashing his cig, flicking the burnt end against the glass ashtray. "Dangerous thing."

"So it would seem... Jenna was shot a few nights ago."

The calming effect of his cigarette was quickly nullified as the words registered with Trilby. Jenna Carrington, that blue vixen Alias lived with. The statement came from nowhere, almost as if Alias were trying to justify his anger and cynicism toward what they were doing. However, amidst it all, Trilby knew he could say nothing. He too had once been in that state of mind; more than likely he still was.

"Shot?" Trilby said with quieted alarm. "I mean, is she-"

"She's fine." Alias replied, cutting him off. "She's resting, and it doesn't look like the damage is going to be permanent." He shrugged. "But it's a long road to recovery."

Reading Alias's confusing body language, Trilby leaned on his elbows. "Isis?"

Alias shook his head slowly. "Not directly, but she played her part. I guess I did too."

"I am... sorry to hear that." Trilby expressed slowly. "Take it for what it's worth, but be thankful that she's still with you... completely." Thinking about Jenna Carrington, it didn't take Trilby long to begin wondering what she was doing with a rogue like Alias. He had seen her dossier, so Trilby knew what kind of privileged background she came from. It just didn't make sense for a girl like her to be... here; in this society-spawned Hell. "I'm going to ask a question I don't have any right to be asking."

Turning slightly, Alias's face was illuminated through the smokey atmosphere by the hanging lamp. "Go ahead." Alias replied, dark tone in his voice. "The Underground is all about those hard questions no one wants to ask or answer."

"Honestly, did you not see this as an inevitability?" Trilby asked bluntly, but not in a harsh tone. "Jenna... she isn't like your friend Stallard, or the girl who manages that club." Trilby began. "She's different from everyone... even you."

For a time, Alias said nothing. He looked down at his scotch glass, then glanced back up at Trilby. The aged feline wasn't sure if Alias was even going to say anything for a moment, and even though he hadn't asked a direct question, the meaning was implied.

"What are you saying, Jim?" Alias finally spoke. His tone was dark, but not threatening.

"You can't tell me it's not a pain keeping civies around when you have training and you're expecting everyone to know what they're doing." Trilby clarified. "I know, I've been there. Jenna, as charming as she is, didn't know what kind of world all of you truly belonged to, did she? Now, the girl's not just walking through the valley of darkness, she's charging into it, trying to catch up with all of you."

"She chose to stay here." Alias replied dryly, pretending to study the map of Arcadia. "Believe me, she's had plenty of opportunities to cut and run. I wouldn't have stopped her once." His emerald green eyes then leveled with Trilby's. "I fail to see where this is your issue."

"It's not." Trilby replied calmly. "I already told you that." Feeling the heat from his lit cigarette approaching his fingers, he looked down, and snuffed the lit end out. "You read those files I gave you, right?"

Alias nodded his response slowly.

"You know, what was never included in any report, or on any official transcript is where I made my true mistake." He continued, studying Alias with his good eye. Trilby's black eyepatch was growing itchy from the warm air in the bar. "It was those times between everything, between all the madness and stupid shit... Leigh asked me to quit the OCB. She never liked it; long assignments, hard to raise a family." He shrugged, pulling another smokey treat from his pack. "She only brought it up a few times, but I think Leigh thought about me leaving the Bureau more than she wanted me to know. When she would," Trilby's mind ventured back to what he considered the "good" days, "she'd always have a plan, what we'd do after I left." His gut churned with a feeling of regret as he remembered his reaction to her. "Being an agent... it becomes a part of you. The worse it gets the more you feel compelled to stay. So, there was always something. A case I needed to close, a report I needed to see through, a partner in the OCB who needed help... I didn't leave until I was strong-armed out..." Taking time from his story, Trilby quickly lit his cigarette, snapping his Zippo lighter shut with a metallic clink. "I really wonder if I had just quit, just walked away from it all, if I'd be somewhere with Leigh... somewhere where the name Isis doesn't conjure up feelings of wrath so intents, I'd give anything to see it destroyed."

"They say anger keeps you alive." Alias replied, voice breaking his silence. "Anger is a powerful thing."

"So is love." Trilby interjected, which Alias immediately scoffed at.

"Love is weak! Makes you do stupid things, take risks that you normally wouldn't!" Alias spat sounding bitter and a little repulsed. Trilby, however, found his sudden rise in temperament quite interesting. "Love has no logic to it or reason! It's irrational and... and pointless! It's just submitting yourself to the idea you can't get along in this world alone!"

"And yet, none of us are truly out of reach from its grasp." Trilby replied, smoke escaping through his mouth. "The only reason I bring it up is because you can learn from my mistakes."

"Your mistakes?" Alias asked, raising an eyebrow, to which Trilby nodded.

"Yes, my mistakes." He replied in a low voice. "I never walked away when I had the chance." The tired agent paused for a moment, basking in the burn of the tobacco. "Even when I knew someone was waiting for me."

Again, memories of his time with Leigh flooded his head. It was a marriage; it wasn't perfect by any means. They shared their bad times, rough patches and uncertainties. But their love and commitment to each other had brought the two through all of it. Trilby's life with the OCB was rough, stressful, and took up much of his free time. But Leigh had always stood by him, no matter how much she wished him to leave the agency. It was only in retrospect did Jim realize how committed Leigh had been to him. She accepted the OCB because it was a part of who he was, despite her reservations. Only after it was too late, and she had been stolen from him did Trilby truly understand how much Leigh had sacrificed for him. She would have been such a wonderful mother...

In the end, Leigh had been willing to give it all away for him; sacrificing her own life. Honestly, Trilby didn't care about his missing eye, or his career, or his reputation; he was more than willing to burn everything he had left if it helped him stop Isis. His life being one of those things.

Trilby noticed Alias's eyes watching him as he reclined and enjoyed the nice burn of the cigarette. "You got another one of those?" The fox asked, looking at the smoldering cylinder.

"I didn't know you smoked..." Trilby replied, reaching into his jacket pocket.

Alias shook his head. "I don't." He clarified, holding out his paw.

Not denying someone a right to pursue happiness, Trilby pulled out another cig, placing it in Alias's paw, and offered him a light.

"I gave up doing this shit..." Alias said, taking a deep breath as the end of the cigarette sizzled. "Fucks with your lungs... bad news for me."

"So why start up again?" Trilby asked.

"Because..." Alias paused, holding up the cigarette for inspection, smoke wafting up elegantly. "Sometimes, you can't just walk away from what's happening in your life. No matter how much you want to." Moving the cigarette to his lips, Alias took another long draw. "Just not an option... Having little things like this, things that give you those little joys in life," he shrugged, "I don't know, it just makes everything seem worth it. Like the world isn't so shitty."

"I have a feeling we're not discussing tobacco products any more..."

"It's a bad decision." Alias explained. "Sure, it's a bad decision, but could you truly tell anything that brings you as much comfort as these do," rolling the cigarette between his fingers, "that you didn't want it around anymore, regardless of how bad an idea you knew it was?"

A small smile spread across Trilby's muzzle as he nodded slowly. "I think we're sitting on common ground now."

The black fox nodded his agreement. "So which is more powerful?" Alias asked quietly. "Your love for your wife, or you're hatred for Isis?"

That was a true paradox, especially when they were both trapped in Leigh's body. "I should never have let Isis get away from the start." Trilby muttered taking a long slow draw. If there was ever a time Trilby truly hated himself, it was when he thought about the night Leigh was taken from him. "Leigh sacrificed herself for nothing because of me! She was counting on me to end this and instead I was foolish enough to allow Isis out of my grasp!" Shaking his head, the tired old agent let out a quieted sigh. "I let her down... Every damn day I let Isis parade around in her skin, in her body, I have disgraced her!"

Alias, with cigarette in paw, leaned forward under the light. "You've thought about killing her, haven't you?" He asked. "You've considered... putting her out of her misery."

"There was a time," Trilby started slowly, "I thought I was out of options. Openshaw didn't come around until a few years later. Up until that point, every agency I turned to slammed the door in my face! They either wanted her dead or in a lab for study!" Everyone had turned their backs on him. After years of loyal service to the stars and stripes, he was cast aside like a broken light-bulb. "I hated it... could hardly fathom the idea of turning my gun on her. But it was either that or my wife was a slave to Isis and it was me who had let it all happen. Me! It was all on me! Leigh knew what she was doing when she ran for that machine! She sacrificed herself to give me a chance to end all this, and I it blew it straight to hell and gone...

"Isis has the perfect hostage! You can't shoot around this hostage or take a better vantage point! As long as she stays on the run we can't apprehend her! Isis has been committing white collar crimes across the globe, and it's so damn good at it!" His shaky paw moved the cigarette to his lips once more. "Isis still understands business better and more thoroughly than anyone on this planet. It's a machine! It's what the A.I. was created for, and in the lawlessness of Underground dealings... it became a monster overnight."

Trilby shook his head. "I'm not here for heroics, or bravery or chivalry, or any of that nonsense." He stated flatly. "I have no point to prove, no political agenda, and everything to lose." Letting out a long, hushed sigh, Trilby leaned back against the booth. "But I have everything to gain at the same time. I have to try; I have to." He shook his head. "It's not a question of how far I will go, it's how far I am going. Everyday, I have to ask that question, but I have to! I can't just sit and watch my wife being... used like that. Not when there's even the smallest chance she's still in there somewhere." The angered feline spat, bitter memories of Isis and her business spilling into his head. "What if Jenna were taken from you, used in the most horrific ways, while all you could do was sit back and watch? Can you even wrap your head around what that does to a person? Like watching a train-wreck in slow-motion, you can't stop what's happening! You have no idea what I've been through trying to bring my wife back!"

Slowly, Alias drew on his cigarette, half burnt by this point. When he exhaled, he blew his long column of smoke upward, toward the light.

"Well, Agent Trilby." He stated formally. "I guess the question is, are you willing to go as far as necessary?"

At this, Trilby couldn't help but letting out a dark chuckle. "It's too late for me. I've gone too far to turn back now." He replied, thinking of his own past deeds since Leigh had been taken from him.

"There's only two ways this ends."