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CASE #4
AGENT BLACK
“Authorities still have no comment until the government investigation now underway is completed. Government officials remain vague about the toxic cargo that has caused the immediate evacuation of Townsend, Wisconsin's twelve thousand residents. Speculation here has centered on a shipment of toxic waste–”
The Eyepatch man points the remote at the motel’s television, silencing the news reporter with a quick press of a button.
“Then what happened out there, if it wasn't a trainwreck?” Agent Black asks him. His voice is calm, but his stomach feels uneasy, like he’s just been on a cheap carnival ride after eating too many greasy corn dogs.
“The continental United States is surrounded by an electronic fence that reaches fifteen thousand miles into space,” Eyepatch explains. “We use it to track and monitor the eight thousand plus man-made objects that orbit the earth. Last night at 23:17, that fence was breached.”
Black blinks, then sits himself on the edge of the bed as Eyepatch continues.
“This morning at 01:00, Operation Centaur went into effect led by Colonel Dolores Umbridge–The Air Force's premiere reclamations expert.”
“Reclamations?” Black questions, his eyebrows raised.
“During the Gulf War, her job was to prevent technologies from downed US aircrafts from getting into Iraqi hands.”
“So she's part of a craft retrieval unit,” Black says, understanding now.
“Yes,” Eyepatch says. “Quick response, too. I'd say you have approximately twenty-four hours before the entire area is sanitized. After that, it will be like nothing ever happened.”
— — — — — — —
Not more than six hours later, Agent Black arrives in Townsend, Wisconsin with nothing more than a backpack, the plainclothes he’s already wearing, and his FBI credentials, which he uses to acquire a car and head straight to the area of the supposed trainwreck without even stopping at his motel first.
He’s deep within the woods, following the sounds of shouting voices and loud vehicles, when he stumbles upon a red laser-like fencing, cordoning off a military campsite. Black pivots around it and, under the cover of the dense foliage, ducks down and slides himself beneath a large camouflaged truck that has just arrived on scene.
“You're late, Lieutenant,” Black hears a woman’s voice say. “It's going to be dark in half an hour.”
“We had a flat outside the perimeter, ma’am,” the lieutenant explains.
The woman hums. “There's a general briefing at 22:00 hours. But first, go to headquarters for live rounds.”
“Live rounds, ma’am?”
“Do you have a problem with that?” the woman snaps back.
“No ma'am. We were told this was just a drill.”
“Well, they told you wrong, didn’t they?”
After a brief pause, the lieutenant shouts, “OK! Everyone out!” and dozens of black combat boots hit the ground.
Agent Black drops from the bottom of the truck, then quietly slinks back into the forest.
— — — — — — —
It’s dark when Black finds the bright lights in the woods, accompanied by the sounds of heavy machinery. He crouches down as he approaches, reaching for the camera hanging from his neck.
All over the site, men are yelling as they walk around in their white protective suits, spraying some sort of chemical from large guns over the crash site.
Black raises his camera and begins to take photos, swearing under his breath. A leaf crunches behind him and he whips his head around, then is promptly hit in the face with the butt of a rifle.
— — — — — — —
Inside a tent at a makeshift military headquarters, a lieutenant is exposing Black’s roll of film to a light.
“You just made the worst mistake of your life, Agent Black,” Colonel Dolores Umbridge, a short, plump woman with a stern, toad-like face says to him.
“I think your man knocked out a filling,” Black mumbles, cradling his jaw.
Umbridge ignores him. “I'll see to it that you pay the price for putting my men at risk.”
“Since when does taking pictures put anyone's life at risk?” Black asks her.
“You violated a US government quarantine, and that's a federal crime,” Colonel Umbridge says coolly.
“That's a quarantine?” Black asks, laughing. “Is that what you call this?”
“We're trying to contain an ecological disaster.”
Black rolls his eyes. “That's a lot of firepower just to protect Mother Nature.”
“I have my orders,” Umbridge says, “and a license to execute them as I see fit. I suggest you forget what you saw. Or what you think you saw. For your own well being.”
“You've got a downed craft in those woods, ma’am,” Black says, irritated. “You’ve got troops carrying live rounds. We both know what's out there!”
Umbridge gestures to her lieutenant and walks away from them both as Black is grabbed by his shoulder and led into a temporary chain link holding cell. The lieutenant pushes Black inside, then locks the gate behind him.
Sighing, Black slumps down onto the rickety bench inside the cell. Before he can even begin to filter through his thoughts about everything he’s just seen, about the predicament he’s landed himself in, a voice pipes up from the cell next to his.
“Are you MUFON or CUFOS?” a man asks. He’s scruffy, but harmless looking with his glasses and backwards baseball cap. “Let me guess you're with that new group–CSICOP, right?”
Black doesn’t respond to him–he only turns his head away.
“Say no more. You're a cautious man. Trust no one. Very wise,” the man says, rambling on. “After what happened to JFK, I understand completely.”
Black looks back up at the mention of a government conspiracy–and an X-file.
Let me introduce myself,” the man says. “My name is Benjy Fenwick. I'm with the National Investigative Committee of Aerial Phenomenon… NICAP.” He turns his hat around to display the initials on the front. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. Wish we could shake on it, you know. Firm grip, look each other right in the eye. You learn a lot about a guy that way.”
Black only blinks at him.
“Hey, uh... Can I ask you a question?” Benjy asks.
“I guess,” Black responds flatly.
“Did you see anything? Did you get close? Me–I saw nothing,” Benjy says, raising his voice seemingly so that the guards may hear him. “I didn't see anything!” He turns back to Black. “Nada, zip. Hundred yards past the roadblock they nailed me. I have no idea how they did it. I'm telling you, it's like the Roswell cover up all over again.”
“What makes you so sure that something's out there?” Black asks him.
Benjy laughs. “The same thing that makes you so sure.”
— — — — — — —
Black doesn’t know when he fell asleep, only that his back is aching as he’s awoken by the creaking sound of a door opening and the morning light that floods into the room, causing him to squint against it.
A familiar, slender silhouette stands in the encompassing light, hands on his hips, and Agent Black grins.
“I didn’t order room service.”
“This isn’t funny, Black,” Agent Lupin says, walking closer to Black’s cell. He’s certainly a sight for Black’s sore eyes, and Black’s smile remains unwavering.
“Did you meet Benjy?” Black asks.
“Who?” Lupin scrunches his face up.
“Benjy from NICAP,” Black says, turning to look at the empty cell beside him. “Ah, they must have released him.” He shrugs. “Another intrepid soul in search of a close encounter.”
Lupin rolls his eyes. “Is that what this is about?”
“You know me,” Black says, purposely trying to get a rise out of his partner.
“Try explaining that to Section Chief Thicknesse,” Lupin says. “He stepped over Dumbledore ordering a full inquiry with a recommendation… Black, he wants to shut down the X-files, and he wants you out of the bureau.”
“So what else is new?” Black says, shrugging.
“I don't understand you,” Lupin says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you always defying protocol? Ignoring jurisdiction?”
“Because I know what I saw, Lupin,” Black explains. “There weren't any train tracks anywhere near that site. So how could it have been a derailed container?”
“Because it wasn't. What you saw was not a toxic spill. But it wasn't a UFO either.”
“OK. I'm all ears. What was it?”
“It was a downed Russian jet with a nuclear warhead over US airspace,” Lupin begins to explain, but Black only laughs. “They'd been picking up low grade levels of radiation indicating that a plutonium casing may have cracked. So to avoid mass panic–”
“You really believe that story?” Black asks, shaking his head.
Lupin furrows his brow. “That story happens to be highly classified.”
“A highly classified lie, maybe,” Black tells him as a helicopter is heard passing overhead.
“They're searching for someone.”
“If they're searching for anyone, it's probably the pilot.”
“You think they'd roll out all of this material for one Russian fighter jock?” Black asks, but Lupin doesn’t respond. “Besides, no human pilot walked away from the wreckage I saw.”
“Well, maybe he ejected,” Lupin attempts to reason.
“Maybe,” Black says. “Maybe not.”
— — — — — — —
“I need to get back into those woods, Lupin,” Agent Black says, walking alongside Lupin with his motel room key finally in hand. “Come with me. See for yourself.”
“You can't be serious!” Lupin shouts as they stop outside the door. “The hearing is tomorrow morning at ten o'clock!”
“That gives us twenty-four hours to investigate,” Black says.
Lupin sighs, shaking his head. “My assignment is to bring you back, not to help you dig yourself in deeper.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Black mumbles as he unlocks the door and pushes it open. Both agents step inside, finding the room a mess– all of the dresser drawers are pulled out, the sheets ripped from the mattress, and the phone off the hook.
“What's going on?” Lupin asks.
“Looks like housekeeping hasn't been here yet,” Black jokes.
“Who would–”
“Shh!” Black whispers, cutting Lupin off with a raised finger. A scuffling sound behind the bathroom door persists, and both agents draw their guns and begin to approach. Black signals to Lupin to keep aim as he quickly thrusts the door open, only to find a pair of denim-clad legs dangling from the bathroom window.
“Benjy?” Black asks, lowering his weapon. He goes to the man and helps pull him back out of the window.
“Get your hands up!” Lupin shouts, and Benjy throws his arms in the air.
“Whoa, don't shoot!”
“It’s okay,” Black tells Lupin before turning to Benjy. “What are you doing here?”
“My apologies,” Benjy says as Black leads him out of the bathroom and into the main area of the motel room. “Forgive me, please. I'm a curious man. I had to know.”
“Know what?”
“If it was really you.”
Black arches an eyebrow. “But you don't know me. Last night was the first time you laid eyes on me.”
“Not true. We at NICAP have been following your career really closely. Ever since you became involved with the X-files,” Benjy says.
“Following my career?” Black asks him. “How?”
“Through the Freedom of Information Act,” Benjy explains. “Your travel expenses are a matter of public record.” He pauses and smiles at Lupin. “So, this must be the enigmatic Agent Lupin.” Benjy begins to move toward him, extending his hand, but Black pushes Benjy backward, causing him to plop down onto the bed.
“How did you recognize me?” Black asks.
“I saw your picture in a trade magazine once. And of course I read your article in Omni about the Durmstrang sightings.”
“I published that under a pseudonym,” Black says, perplexed as he furrows his brow.
“Basil S. Urick. I know. It’s an anagram for Sirius Black,” Benjy says, laughing. “You really didn't think that would fool us did you?”
“I didn't think anyone was really paying attention,” Black admits.
“Somebody's always paying attention, Mr. Black.”
“Ahhhh-mazing,” Lupin says, breaking their little moment.
“Amazing?” Benjy asks. “Hardly. You want to see something amazing? Come with me.” He gets up and heads toward the door.
“The enigmatic Agent Lupin,” Black says, looking at Lupin with a smirk before following Benjy outside. Lupin rolls his eyes and follows them.
The three men walk across the parking lot to a large trailer parked on the opposite side.
“This is my, uh–” Benjy mutters, unlocking the door. “Right this way.” He steps inside and the agents follow. Benjy begins to rifle through a haphazard stack of papers. “Okay. Here they are. The latest crop circle photos from Project Argus. In your opinion: fact or fraud?”
“Fraud,” Black responds, barely looking at the photos. Instead, he glances sideways at Lupin, watching as the other agent picks up an orange prescription bottle on the kitchen’s countertop and examines it.
“How do you explain the anomalous blisters on the plants?” Benjy asks.
“Some unreported weathering effects common to wheat, or a systematic reaction to the plant tissue to being lodged in one position,” Black explains.
“I see you've read the literature.”
“I try to keep up.”
“What about the–”
“I thought you said you had something to show us,” Lupin interrupts.
“Oh, yeah!” Benjy sets his papers back down and waves the agents over to a wall of electronic equipment. “Wolf Ear 2000. Have you ever heard of this?”
“Yeah,” Lupin says. “Wolf Industries supplies the CIA with all of its surveillance equipment.”
“State of the art, search and intercept,” Benjy says. “Up to 100 channels per second. Currently I'm jacked into local fire and police departments, cellular pathways, and when the weather's right, sometimes even air traffic control from Erroll Air Force Base.”
“What have you got?” Black asks him.
“Mobile Unit Broadcast. In Scan Mode. Townshend’s sheriff's department. Two nights ago.” Benjy presses a button, and a tape begins to crackle.
“We got a fire off county road D7. Two miles west of the canyon ridge intersection. Suggest we dispatch fire crews, over? This is Deputy Bulstrode. Do you copy?”
“And this, 35 minutes later,” Benjy says, “presumably from the fire crew. Reception got messed up for some reason.”
“This is unit 53. Man down. Request medevac!”
“You're breaking up!”
“Very. Bad. VERY bad. Wait a second. What the hell? Charlie, we've got a situation here!”
“Shit,” Black mutters to himself, then turns to look at Lupin who looks just as concerned about what they’ve just heard as he is.
“Everyone in the area has been evacuated,” Benjy tells them. “I already looked into Deputy Bulstrode, and his wife and kid are holed up at the local high school. Maybe she knows something. Maybe they told her something about her husband.”
Black shakes his head. “Doubt it,” he says. “But it’s a lead we gotta follow.”
Lupin sighs. “Fine,” he says, pulling a set of keys from his pocket and handing them to Black. “But you’re driving.”
— — — — — — —
The high school’s gym has been turned into a makeshift evacuation center, with people milling about and cots lined up in neat rows. It’s evening now, and meals are being distributed, but Agent Black manages to find a volunteer organizer and be pointed in the direction of a woman wrapping a flimsy blanket around her young daughter’s shoulders.
“Mrs. Bulstrode?” Black asks as the agents both approach her, and the woman nods, looking up at them. “Hi. I'm Sirius Black and this is Remus Lupin. We're from the FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your husband.”
“He's dead,” she huffs, looking back to her daughter, who is busy with a hand-held video game. “What else is there to know?”
“I'm so sorry about your husband,” Lupin tells her.
“Oh, please,” she shoots back quickly.
“Mrs. Bulstrode, we want to help you.”
“Then leave me alone.”
“Why won't you let us help you?” Black asks.
She looks from one agent to the other, then rises to her feet. “I don't know anything. Don't you understand? They won't even release the body so I can give him a proper burial. OK?”
Lupin raises his eyebrows. “The government can't do that,” he says. “I'm sure if you appealed to–”
“No!”
“But you're entitled to the truth,” Lupin tells her.
Mrs. Bulstrode crosses her arms, more protective than angrily. “I can't afford the truth. They said that if I spoke to anyone, they would withhold my husband's pension.” She looks at the girl sitting on the cot. “And I have a child to take care of. It’s not worth it.”
“Can you give us anything?” Black asks. “You should have the pension and the truth. Not one or the other.”
She sighs, shaking her head. “Maybe Dr. Abbott can help you.”
— — — — — — —
“I'm sorry, but unless you have a subpoena, I can't discuss patient information.”
“Does that mean Robert Bulstrode was your patient?” Lupin asks.
“It means I have nothing more to say about this,” Dr. Abbott replies.
“What about his wife and child, Doctor?” Black asks. “Would you have anything to say to them? Because whoever got to you also got to her. They must have some pretty big threats. What did they hold over your head? Your medical license? The IRS?”
“I hate fascists,” the doctor mutters.
“Excuse me?” Black raises an eyebrow.
“The men who came in here,” Abbott explains, waving a flippant hand. “The way they pushed us all around.”
“You saw Deputy Bulstrode that night, didn't you?”
“Yes,” Dr. Abbott admits. “And three others from the fire crew. They were all DOA with 5th and 6th degree burns over 90 percent of their bodies. Although, they weren't like any burns I've ever seen. And they took the bodies away before we could perform any pathologies.”
Lupin scratches his chin. “Did you note any cadaver acute heat rigor or heat stiffening?”
The doctor tilts his head, looking at Lupin. “Yes, actually. There was quite a bit of heat inflection in the limbs. How do you know so much about it?”
“Doctor, in your opinion, could those burns have been caused by ionizing radiation?” Black asks.
“Well, I hadn't thought… I suppose it's possible,” Abbott says. “If the exposure was significantly intense… then yes.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Black says, then begins to pull Lupin down the corridor.
“Let's say those men died from radiation exposure,” Lupin says, his voice low. “Couldn't it have been from the cracked core of a nuclear warhead?”
“I've read about these kinds of burns,” Black says.
“Yeah, so have I,” Lupin retorts. “In Hiroshima at Ground Zero.”
“I'm talking about close encounter mortalities,” Black tells him. “I have a stack of X-files recording the same clinical results.”
Lupin rolls his eyes. “Black, I don't claim to know all the answers, but if we don't make the OPR inquest by tomorrow morning, there may not be any more X-files.”
There’s a sudden outburst of commotion as several men in military uniforms are brought in on stretchers through the front doors of the emergency room. They seem to have severe burns and are moaning in agony, and doctors hurry to lead them into a room. Colonel Umbridge follows behind the unit, staring Black down as she passes him.
Black looks at Lupin, then grabs his arm and follows the group.
“Start an IV here, stat,” Dr. Abbott orders.
“Tell us what happened out there,” Black says to Umbridge, leaning in close to her.
“Whatever happened, Black, it has nothing to do with you,” she responds coolly.
“Wrong, Colonel,” Black snaps back. “We both want the same thing. Only you want it dead. Can't you see that by chasing it down like an animal, you leave it no choice but to defend itself? How many more people have to die before you rethink your approach?”
Umbridge turns to face him. “Listen to me, because I'm not wasting another breath on this. If you and your partner aren't out of here in 30 seconds–”
“Actually, I need Agent Lupin,” Dr. Abbott says, then turns to Lupin. “We're undermanned, and you’re a medical doctor. Will you stay?”
“Of course,” Lupin says, stumbling a bit over his words. “I–What should I do?”
“Doctor, if you don't mind,” Umbridge starts, hands on her hips, “you just take care of my men, and let me do my work, OK?”
Dr. Abbott snorts. “Outside of this emergency room, you can do whatever you want. But in here, I call the shots. Assuming of course, you want me to take care of your men.”
Umbridge pauses a moment, her face set in a tight grimace as she glares at the doctor. “Fine,” she acquiesces.
“I’ll scrub up then,” Lupin says to the doctor.
Umbridge gestures to one of her men with the flip of her hand. “But get this man out of my sight.”
The lieutenant grabs Black’s arm with an unnecessarily harsh grip and begins to lead him back out through the door. Black turns back to look at Lupin, and Lupin smiles at him apologetically, giving him a wave as he’s dragged away.
— — — — — — —
Once back at the motel, Agent Black parks the car and gets out of it, shutting the door behind him. He hurries over to Benjy’s trailer, then knocks on the aluminum door.
“Benjy?” Black calls out after there’s no response. “Hey, Benjy?” He peers into a little window on the side of the trailer and spots Benjy’s figure lying on the ground, shaking. Black opens the door and quickly swoops inside, kneeling down beside the other man and holding him still for several minutes until the convulsions subside.
“Benjy?” Black asks as Benjy begins to blink his eyes in confusion. “Are you OK, man?”
“Who… who are you?”
“It's me. Sirius Black. Are you alright?”
Benjy sits up slowly, holding onto Black for help. “What are you doing here?”
“You were having some kind of seizure,” Black tells him.
“A seizure?” Benjy says, more than he asks. “That's impossible.”
“You were lying on the floor, unconscious and convulsing,” Black explains.
“That's so weird,” Benjy says. “I haven't had an episode in seven years. Not since I went on medication.”
“We should get you to the hospital.”
“No!” Benjy shouts, suddenly perking up. “I mean, no, thank you, but it's not necessary.”
Black raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I've lived with epilepsy all my life. I'm not in any danger,” Benjy explains as Black helps him to his feet and leads him over to the bed. “It started when I was ten. The doctor said I must have incurred a head injury, but I don't remember hitting my head.”
“And when you have a seizure, you have no memory of it?” Black asks, stepping into the kitchen area and filling up a glass with water before handing it to Benjy.
Benjy shrugs, taking the glass. “As a kid I used to wake up in strange places with no idea where I was, or how I got there.” He sighs, then sips the water and sets the glass down on his bedside table. “Sorry I... I've got to get some sleep.”
“Sure, no problem,” Black tells him.
As Benjy lies down and turns his head on the pillow, Black can’t help but notice a familiar mark behind the man’s ear.
— — — — — — —
Back in his motel room, Black sits down on the bed and opens his laptop, then clicks open a file. He squints, scrolling down a bit, and a knock on his door interrupts his thoughts. He looks up to see Agent Lupin entering the room with a sigh, as he shuts the door behind him.
“Rough night?” Black asks.
“It was terrible,” Lupin says, flopping down onto the bed beside him. “We lost all but two, and they're still in critical condition on their way to the burn unit at Johns Hopkins.”
“So what do you think, Lupin? What's going on out there?”
Lupin shrugs, looking over at him. “I don't know. And under any other circumstances, I would like to find out, but we have a plane to catch in just over an hour.”
“I want you to take a look at something first,” Black says and turns back to his computer.
“What?” Lupin asks, sitting up.
“It’s Benjy. There's an unusual incision behind his left ear,” Black explains. “I've seen this incision twice before. Two women. A thousand miles apart. No way of knowing each other. No relation. Both claim to have been abducted by aliens.”
“Again?” An aggravated whimper escapes Lupin’s throat as he scoots closer to Black to see the photos on the computer screen. “Are you seriously saying Benjy Fenwick is an abductee? Black, the man is taking powerful anti-psychotic drugs. I saw them in his RV.”
“They're for his epilepsy.”
“Not all of them. Lamotrigine is an anticonvulsant, but Perphenazine is used exclusively to treat schizophrenia,” Lupin explains. “More than likely, Benjy is delusional.”
“You don't seem to understand, Lupin,” Black snaps back. “Benjy doesn't believe he was abducted by aliens–I do. Now could you at least take a look at the scar, and give me your medical opinion?”
“Fine,” Lupin says, pulling away from Black and rising from the bed. “Let's get this over with.”
Black snaps his laptop shut and slides off of the bed, following behind Lupin as he leaves the room. They cross the parking lot together, and when they approach the trailer, Black knocks on the door, then pulls it open.
“Hey, Benjy, I’m back. Benjy?”
The agents step inside together. The radio scanner is whirring and screeching, but there’s no sign of Benjy.
“Benjy?” Black asks again.
“Black, look at this,” Lupin says, pointing to a dark stain on Benjy’s pillow.
“What is that, blood?”
“Repeat… patrol reporting unidentified trespass at the waterfront,”
the radio crackles out.
“This is Colonel Umbridge. Move on target.”
Black looks over at Lupin, then hurries out of the trailer.
“Where do you think you are going?” Lupin demands, trailing behind him as Black heads to the car. “Look, if we go to the airport right now, we might make the plane. Which would at least give you half a chance of defending yourself.”
“Think about it, Lupin. Benjy is a vagabond. A nomad, right?”
“Yeah, so what?”
“So he intercepted Deputy Bulstrode’s last call to his dispatcher,” Black explains. “Which means he was here, in Townsend, the night of the crash. Of all the places he could have been, he was right here.”
Lupin rolls his eyes.
“Don't you think that's more than a coincidence?” Black asks him. “If Benjy was abducted, that would go a long way to explaining his obsession. And if we've figured it out, you can be sure Colonel Umbridge has as well.”
— — — — — — —
Agent Black pulls the car up to the makeshift military camp where he’d been temporarily imprisoned the day before. It’s nothing more than an unsuspecting block of abandoned buildings on the waterfront of Lake Michigan, but when both of the agents step out of the car, they are immediately met with a pair of bodies clad in burnt camouflage lying on the ground. A layer of thick, black char cakes the bodies, smoke billowing off of them up and into the sky, and Black knows well before Agent Lupin kneels down to inspect them that they’re dead.
Lupin opens his mouth, presumably about to speak on the matter, when a man’s anguished scream from inside one of the buildings cuts him off. Black reaches down to help Lupin back up, and they both hurry off together in the direction of the voice.
“It hurts, it hurts! Please stop!”
“Benjy?” Black calls out. The inside of the warehouse is dark, only a few streams of dusty light filtering in through high open windows, but they continue following the groaning until they come upon Benjy, cradling his ear. A trickle of blood has stained the side of his face, and both of his hands are covered in blood.
“Please, it hurts!”
“Benjy, it’s alright!” Black tells him.
The sound of several jeeps approaching outside, followed by the fluttering of a helicopter overhead can be heard. Black motions to Lupin to check it out, and Lupin scurries off without a word.
“They're coming for me!” Benjy continues hollering. “Now I know… They're coming for me. That's why they're here.”
“Shhh, Benjy. It’s OK. I’m here with you.”
Benjy nods, but continues to whimper.
“Alpha team, secure the room,” Black hears Colonel Umbridge’s voice shout out. “Stop right there! Put your hands up, and come with us.”
“Fuck, they got Lupin,” Black murmurs under his breath.
“What are you doing?” he can hear Lupin say. “You have a very sick man in there!”
“We're not in the hospital anymore, Doctor Lupin,” Umbridge retorts. “Omega team report.”
“Omega team in position,” another voice responds.
“He's a delusional schizophrenic,” Lupin attempts to reason.
“Keep him clear!” Umbridge orders.
“Ma’am, this is Alpha team leader,” another voice crackles through a radio. I'm picking up three forms inside the structure.”
“Did you say three forms?” Umbridge asks.
“Two are proximate. The third is approaching from 30 meters,”
“All teams prepare to go in 30 seconds.”
“Come on, Benjy. We gotta go,” Black says, turning his attention back to the injured man.
“I'm scared,” Benjy says.
“I know, but I’m going to help you.”
“Don't let them take me.”
“I won't let them take you. Come on, Benjy. Come with me.”
“NO!”
Something blurred and too fast to see rushes in towards Benjy, and Black is pushed aside by the unknown force, crashing into a stack of wooden crates. Groaning, he rolls himself over and rises up onto his feet, gingerly tiptoeing on what he assumes to be a freshly broken leg.
“Benjy?” Black asks, whipping his head around. “Benjy!”
A bright flash of light casts down upon him, and Black raises his good arm to shield his eyes. Benjy is there, hovering in the air, several feet above the ground. With a near deafening burst of sound, the light gets brighter, and Benjy begins to convulse. Black watches, helpless to do anything. The light grows ever brighter still, and Black finally turns his face away, squeezing his eyes shut until both the light and the terrible sound stop. He turns back to Benjy, blinking, but no one is there.
Outside the warehouse, Black can still hear the radio crackling.
“Ma’am, this is Alpha team leader. Except for our men, I'm only picking one figure inside.”
“I do not copy that,” Umbridge says.
“We indicate only one figure inside the building.”
“What?!” Lupin’s voice shouts out. “What does he mean, one ?”
“Blow the door!” Umbridge orders.
The door blows open. Uniformed men enter running as Black limps over to the place where Benjy was. He leans down, picking up Benjy’s NICAP hat from the ground.
“Where is he?” Colonel Umbridge asks, approaching Black with her team from behind.
“He's gone,” Black says. “They got to him first. They beat us, Colonel.”
“Arrest him,” Umbridge orders. “And keep looking.”
— — — — — — —
Back at the FBI headquarters, Agent Black sits in the hallway just outside of Section Chief Thicknesse’s office, scrolling through the news on his phone.
“Toxic Clean Up a Success
Wisconsin residents allowed back to their homes”
He shakes his head, then looks up as Lupin exits the office, closing the door behind him.
“You’re up,” Lupin says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I tried to take up for you, but they weren’t having any of it.”
Black grins. “Do you hear that sound, Lupin?” He picks up his crutches from beside the chair, adjusting them beneath his armpits. “Hammer and nails. They're building a gallows in the town square.”
Lupin frowns at him.
“Don't worry. It’s fine,” Black tells him. “I'm surprised I lasted this long, to be honest.”
“You’re allowed to be upset,” Lupin says. “I’m upset. I care about you, you know?” He sighs, shaking his head. “Just… good luck, OK?”
Black gives him a wink. “I'll break a leg,” he says, then limps into Thicknesse’s office.
“Have a seat,” Thicknesse tells him once he’s shut the door.
Black settles himself carefully into the chair across from the other man, leaning his crutches against it. He nods his head in greeting to Section Chief Dumbledore, but Dumbledore ignores this, passing Thicknesse a thick folder.
“I’m going to get right to the point, Black,” Thicknesse tells him while flipping through the file. He sets the folder down and looks straight at him. “You’ve been charged with obstruction and trespassing, as well as insubordination and misconduct. How do you respond to these allegations?”
“Over a dozen men lost their lives and you want me to respond to issues of protocol?” Black asks, scoffing.
“You failed to obtain proper authorization for your actions,” Thicknesse says.
“Because I knew it wouldn't be forthcoming.”
“You also violated a federal quarantine,” Dumbledore points out.
“A cover up was underway,” Black snaps back at him.
“You exposed yourself, and possibly others, to toxic contamination!” Dumbledore says, raising his voice.
“Oh, toxic contamination? Are we back in that?” Black says, matching Dumbledore’s tone. “You read my report. Explain the disappearance of Benjy Fenwick!”
“Your report is not the subject of this inquiry,” Thicknesse pipes up.
“I have further evidence to support my conclusions,” Black tells them, holding up an envelope. “X-rays that were taken while Mr. Fenwich was institutionalized show an object lodged in his cerebellum.”
“That is irrelevant Agent Black,” Dumbledore says.
“The man was abducted,” Black continues on. “We all know it. Everybody in this room knows it!”
“Colonel Umbridge’s written testimony states that Fenwick’s body was found two hours later in a cargo container,” Thicknesse tells him, pointing to the paperwork in front of him.
Black laughs. “Then what can I say?” he says, standing up and taking his crutches. “How can I disprove lies that are stamped with an official seal?”
“That will be all Mr. Black,” Thicknesse says.
“You can deny all the things I've seen. All the things I've discovered,” Black says, shaking his head. “But not for much longer. Because too many others know what's happening out there. And no one–no government agency–has jurisdiction over the truth.”
“You’re dismissed,” Dumbledore says.
Black clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath, then turns and limps out of the office before his anger gets the better of him.
When he steps back out into the hallway, trembling with agitation, Agent Lupin is gone, but the Eyepatch Man is there. Eyepatch gives him a pat on the shoulder, then steps into Thicknesse’s office.