The Inner Circle

204321.

Beck didn’t need any further introduction to that number. As the operative often tasked with tracking down escaped or defecting powers, Beck did his homework with contingency plans for worst-case scenarios, the ones who, if escaped, were more than just a security risk. The ones who were a threat to everything.

204321 was one of those threats.

“I’ll need to get some additional requisitions if it comes to that point,” Beck said, realizing this was probably the longest conversation he’d had with a member of command since…well, since the incident that didn’t need to be dredged up. At least not now. “There’s a loadout in reserve for any assignment involved with this particular type that I’ll need your authorization to pick up on the way out. Turned more than a few heads when I put in the request a few months back.”

He cracked something of an uncharacteristic grin at that. Not that it lasted long.

-------------------------------------------

One of the privileges of his years of service and assignment outside the normal chain of command was Beck’s freedom of execution – sometimes more literally than others – of assignments. Beck no longer wore the standard-issue fatigues, instead cloaked in a brown duster that had obviously seen wear outside the confines of the compound, outside the rigid concepts of the military. He looked more like a gunslinger from an old Western more than the prototypical soldier.

Custom rifle slung over his shoulder nestled against a compact supply bag, Beck walked surprisingly softly for an individual of his size and build as he approached the group, scowling plainly as he did. Working with others wasn’t exactly ideal. Hard eyes scanned hard over the entire group, but the only outward acknowledgement he offered after settled a few paces away was to Morrigan.

“Some travelling circus you’ve got here, Kerrigan,” Beck said, making it clear that he and the handler knew each other. “They didn’t tell me you were running this freak show. Just glad I’m not having to hunt down another one of your strays.”
 
Darius merely patted the boy's shoulders. "We'll find something to help. I promise." He led them to the eastern gate, a cloud over his own thoughts.

--

Kerrigan hesitated, which was unusual for her. "I don't know." She finally said, snapping. "They've not officially assigned them to us when I received the orders. All I do know is that you're supposed to use your.." She looked as though it physically pained her to say it, but there was a hint of something else there. Fear? "Powers to assist him.

It better not be some green horned novice that I have to train again... She thought as she ground her teeth. It was clear this was going to be a LOVELY evening for a stroll.

--

The party finally gathered, their sixth member joining them late. Kerrigan glared up at him, bringing herself at her full extension of her height. "Beck. Pleasure." She said curtly. "I was pretty sure you would have been retired now, like they do old horses." Her jaw was set firm. "Apparently they are expecting this to be an easy night if they've sent an old dog like you to back us up."

Darius shook his head. "Hey. Us 'old dogs' have a few really good tricks up our sleeves." He snorted.

Kerrigan ignored him. "I'm assume you've been informed of the mission?" She didn't wait for an answer. "We are a scouting party searching the fourth ring for the disturbance in the third ring a few days ago. There is also been a lot more unusual traffic through the area, so we're to find out if there is more going on on the east quadrant than we're not seeing."

"You're to be our backup. My P.O.A. is assigned to you for your protection. I didn't know why at first, but apparently the deem it necessary to make sure those who should have been retired ages ago aren't caught unawares."
 
When Morrigan wasn't looking, Alaska mimicked her behind her back. The woman was tough as nails, but then it came time to discuss Alaska's abilities, and she got squeamish. She didn't understand. "Sir, yes, yes," she saluted Morrigan and hurried after.

When her boss for the day arrived, she couldn't help but bristle at the term 'Freak Show'. Eyes narrowed, she eyed the man speculatively. Would anyone know if she failed in her objective on purpose? Probably. If something happened to him, it would be off with her head.

Letting out a sigh, she listened in to the rest of the exchange and couldn't resist a slight smirk. "What a flip in the script. Today the P.O.A. is assigned to babysit you." It was only slightly ironic, but enough that she could find a fraction of amusement in it.
 
Beck twisted his boot into the ground beneath him, crunching gravel with a scraping hiss as he turned his attention not to the handlers, but to the one supposedly watching his back. It never failed to amuse the old soldier just how young some of the charges before him were. These weren’t soldiers. They weren’t even adults. Children. Even Praetor Beck managed some sympathy for their age and lack of understanding of it all, but that didn’t make them any less dangerous. To the contrary, their youth, their lack of the world-wearing beatings given in the form of years and experience, made them even more dangerous.

That was why men like Beck existed – an insurance policy.

The veteran twisted his head to the side slightly as he studied the face and frame of Alaska.

She reminds me of… Beck immediately cut off the thought the moment that he felt the strange sensation wash over him. Sentiment. Kinship. In an instant, piercing gaze broke from her and turned back to the handlers.

“Feel free to find some of those young guns that come back alive and they wouldn’t need me,” he gruffed back to Kerrigan before nodding to Darius with a hint of a wry grin. “Anyone who can throw themselves in with this lot for this long and stick around to talk about must be doing something right.”

Beck seemed to completely ignore Zieg, but he never let the charge of his sight or mind in the process. It was probably just as well.

“Not much in your file, little wing,” he said turning his attention back to Alaska. “Fire support isn’t a game.” His tone seemed less filled with the contempt of earlier, more of a harsh but insistent teacher. “Can’t have you watching my back if you’re going to turn and run first chance you get. That’s a game I’m getting a little tired of playing.”
 
Orion just nodded at Darius and didn't say anything further. He was still afraid whether he wanted to admit it or not that they were going to grow tired of trying to find something to get him to sleep, but worrying about it wasn't going to do him any good. He could stew on it after the mission while not snoozing. It would give him something to do other than count the number of imperfections in his room. Sliding fingers through his hair, a trait he and his twin shared, the young male stood silently beside his Handler and as far away from Morrigan as possible. He didn't even care that his position put him closer to Zieg. If anything, he sort of welcomed that closeness. Lesser of two evils and all. Silently listening to the conversation between the newcomer, the Bitch. and Darius, Orion made sure to keep his visage as blank as possible. He did scowl at the term of freak show and traveling circus, but he still remained stoic.

"Hmm.... What kind of disturbance?" Orion asked after a few minutes of silence, eyes falling upon Kerrigan with a slightly mischievous yet unreadable expression. Maybe there would be some playtime after all or were they to bring them in alive?
 
Zieg shifted slightly as if to let loose some strain on his neck, but otherwise remained oblivious to everyone around him. Or at least he seemed to be. His blue hues stared off into the purpling sky as if searching it for something else. Something more important to him than the rest of this god forsaken world. However, at one point it seemed his curiosity was roused enough to finally acknowledge there were more people now. Eyes half lidded, he lowered his pale head to gaze over at Beck. He couldn't help but focus on the pulse in his neck, throbbing steadily. His fangs lowered instinctively, but he had learned to ignore instinct long before now. He wasn't some fledgling fresh off his transformation. How long ago had that been...

Regardless, it would look like a half self-starved vampire had turned his attention on Beck, his blue hues slowly swirling to red.

Kerrigan gave Orion a look that basically explained how foul she thought of him and the annoyance she had at him addressing her like.. Like.. An equal. Disgusting.

However, Darius repeated the question for Orion. After a moment longer of glaring absolutely ice cold daggers at the unfortunate soul, she slowly rolled her eyes up at Darius. "There was a werewolf in town the other day. A rather large one, in fact. It caused quite a bit of damage and several are injured. There was also another girl with the werewolf. A young red headed woman. We're not sure the details other than that. However, if there is one werewolf, there is usually a pack somewhere near by. The pair were last seen going into the ruins of the fourth circle." She spun on her heel and faced the gate. "Any. Other. Questions?"
 
Alaska was expecting discomfort, distaste, and feelings similar to that of Morrigan. When she sensed a distant cousin to fondness, it threw her. She blinked at her boss for the evening (Or was he her charge? It was hard to say), the smart remark dying on her tongue. That was. Unexpected.

On the bright side, he and Morrigan didn't seem fond of one another. That was always a plus in her book.

"I've got no plans to run," she nodded. It was a rare moment of honestly from Alaska. At this moment in time, she had no immediate plans to run. This could change, of course, if a solid opportunity came up, but that was doubtful. If she was going to make an escape attempt, it was going to be planned in advance. She'd only have one opportunity, after all.

Tapping the metal around her neck, she shrugged a shoulder in Beck's direction. "Wouldn't get very far, at any rate." Between him and the collar... running at the first opportunity wouldn't be the smartest move.

Biting her tongue, Alaska resisted the urge to ask Kerrigan when she was going to get the stick pulled out her ass and instead shook her head. Nope. No questions here.
 
Beck stayed a few paces away from the rest of the group as the details were dispersed, at least all the details they had been deemed entitled to receive at this point. Years of service engrained one particular lesson – mission intelligence was always given on a need-to-know basis and no one ever needed to know as much as they should. Something about this mission was all wrong. The combination of individuals, the lack of clear structure, the target itself.

Still, orders were orders.

“If everything goes according to plan, the old girl here won’t have to bark up at all,” he said to the group, slightly waggling the rifle slung over his shoulder. “And try to ignore those little hairs standing up on the back of your neck while you’re working. Tends to happen when people are in my sights.”

Cinching the pack strapped to his back slightly, he pivoted to open up space between his frame and that of the rest of the group, his stance facing Alaska while not entirely turning his back to the rest of the group. One more piercing gaze, studying the group. It was then he truly caught the attention he’d been receiving from Zeig. The look was unmistakable. Beck felt tension rise. The concept of fear, the raw nerving emotion itself, was something he’d learned to suppress over a long career of fear, instead twisting his own sensations into something of discomfort and tension instead.

The eyes lingered. Beck memorized them. The next time he saw them, it would be through a rifle scope.

Content for the time being to have concluded his business with the group as a hole, he began steady steps to carry he and the powered one away. Once they were out of earshot, he finally spoke up gruffly again.

“You drew a shorter straw in this life than most with that one as a handler,” he remarked with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.
 
Orion kept his gaze firmly on Kerrigan despite the look she was currently giving him. The part that wanted to shrivel up and hide was overshadowed by something else, something that he didn’t know or had forgotten was within him. His shoulders remained pulled back, his posture perfect as she bore her eyes into his soul. Thankful that Darius repeated the question since the bitch wasn’t planning on answering him, Orion didn’t look away until after Kerrigan did. Only then did he shift his red eyes towards his handler with a slight nod of thanks.

Redheaded young woman…? No… no way it’s her. She wouldn’t be hanging out with a werewolf, would she? Did she finally get out from beneath mother…? Orion’s mind was twirling with different thoughts, afraid that his sister had gotten into some trouble and that it was her that they were going to be hunting. He absentmindedly tugged on a strand of his hair, biting on part of his bottom lip. He was slowly losing his stoicness thanks to the millions of scenarios running through his brain and it wasn’t until Morrigan asked if they had any questions that he snapped back to the present.

“Nope.” He muttered knowing she didn’t give a shit if they had any questions or not. That was more than likely all they were going to be told. Despite being interested in what kind of powers the other female had, he kept that inquiry locked within, saying a silent prayer that they would find absolutely nothing this time out. His gaze fell on Beck and he chewed harder on his bottom lip, not liking the thought of being within the sights of the gun he was toting. Yeah, this was a shitty mission and Orion just hoped it was over quickly and without any casualties.

“Are we splitting up?” Orion quietly asked Darius after moving over to the male. He had noted that Beck and Alaska had moved off away from the group and if he was honest, he wanted to be far away from the bitch.
 
It took a second for Alaska to realize she was meant to follow after Beck, but then she did, falling into step beside that. It always irritated Morrigan when she did that, instead of hanging behind a bit, but as it wasn't strictly required and therefore not a punishable offense, Alaska made sure to do it every time.

Even if it meant taking an extra step for every one of hers.

Alaska couldn't help the snort at her interim-handler's words. "That's an accurate assessment, yeah." For a moment she'd worried that maybe it was a trick, but as she didn't really have a problem with talking shit about Morrigan, it didn't stop her from responding. It helped, though, that she could sense his dislike for the woman. "A real piece of work, that one."
 
Kerrigan started towards the exit. Darius shrugged and started after her, Zieg going through the motions and following, even though his eyes were still on Beck.

"Since I'm down a ward, I will take over Orion temporarily as my personal ward and protection. That way you can focus on that thing of yours." She waved generally in Zieg's direction. Darius puffed up at that. "You can't just-"

"It's orders from above." She snapped back at Darius before he could even retort further. "Don't worry, you'll get him back in one piece, as long as he follows my every order to the letter." She turned to the guard and let him scan her badge. He looked over the information and waived them away. They had gotten pretty lax in the procedures of letting people through the gates.
 
Orion immediately followed behind Darius, not wanting to be away from his handler. He wasn’t scared of Zieg or anything, but he always felt safer with Darius around when they were out on a mission. His footsteps ceased completely when Kerrigan spoke and he felt his chest clench painfully. Wait, no way! He didn’t want to be anywhere near her let alone be beneath her! Snapping his red eyes towards Darius at his attempt to refute her, he shot him a look and bit on his bottom lip to keep from making any noise. How could this day get any worse?!

His gaze shifted towards the bitch and his eyes narrowed immediately at the threat that clearly underlined her words. She was going to deliberately make his life hell for the giggle and for speaking to her, he just knew it. Refusing to move forward, he seriously thought about making a run for it, but knew he wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he would just refuse to go. What could they really do to him besides kill him. Was death better than being beneath her gaze? Probably.

“Why can’t she watch over Zieg and you keep me?” Orion mumbled to Darius, his gaze turning into a pleading expression though he knew if it came from above, there was no changing the order.

God damn it.
 
Beck trudged along down the path, making note of how the girl walked along. A quiet defiance in her very footsteps, notwithstanding a lightness and grace to her movement. He wasn’t sure what to make of this one yet.

“Beck. Praetor Beck,” he offered with no lead in, realizing he’d never even learned this one’s name, designation, or whatever else his superiors wanted to her to be known by these days. This one simply hadn’t been on his radar until now. As far as the powered ones were, the only ones on which he sought out information where those he targeted or the ones that he considered a threat.

This one, he noted, was neither. Yet here she was, on a mission. It made no sense to him. It occurred to him that among the things he knew nothing of were her powers, be they useful to him or what would finally put the old dog down for good.

“This is us.”

After a few minutes of walking, they turned the corner and reached a small lot in which a vehicle, completely independent of the rail system, lay in waiting. It was a medium-sized utility vehicle, the back-end specifically fitted for storage and utility and seating for two in the front. Beck immediately slung the pack and rifle off his shoulder, opening the back and throwing the pack inside while sliding the rifle into a custom sleeve in which it hung carefully.

A quick glance into the back of the vehicle and the attachments made it clear that it was less infantry insertion, armored military vehicle, and more of a long-adapted vehicle that seemed more custom for an explorer, with everyone one might need for weeks, maybe months, along in the great expanse of nothingness. Less personnel carrier and more trailwagon.

“You travel light. By choice?” Not much is, he noted as he took a moment, standing at the back of the vehicle, to study his “partner” again. Whatever ran through him before, that strange emotion, reared again slightly, but suppressed far better and rapidly by the soldier.
 
She held her head high. Just because she was in captivity did not mean that she intended to lose her pride. Used to Morrigan's stoic silence (except for when she was scolding Alaska), the attempt at small talk took her by surprise. She blinked, turning her head to look up at him. Nope, that wouldn't do. She had to stretch her neck to examine his face. Taking a step to the side so she could lower her head a bit, it took her as second to realize he was offering up his name. Conversationally, to boot.

"Alaska," she offered back after there had already been an awkward pause between him giving his name and her response. Whoops. Another beat. "Alaska Silk." Her shoulders sagged a bit, releasing some of the tension she typically carried when working with Morrigan, though she kept her guard up.

When they stopped in front of the vehicle, Alaska glanced over it. A bit nervous, she cast a glance over her shoulder and then back before heading inside with him. "Do you think we'll all be riding together?" Morrigan was a lot to handle, emotionally, lately. The quiet one from earlier had been even worse, and she didn't know if she would be able to handle both of them in an enclosed space. Vaguely, she wondered if there was a way to keep other's emotions out. A type of shield, maybe. She'd have to add that to the list of things to learn about her abilities.

Alaska snorted. "Yeah, I thought I'd leave my spare travel entertainment behind this time around." She almost felt bad about getting sarcastic with him. It wasn't his fault, but he was still part of the system. Kind as he might seem. "I don't see a lot of choices these days." She tugged at the collar, a nervous habit as she was still not used to its weight.
 
Darius gave Orion an apologetic look. "It may have something to do with the fact that Zieg needs a firm grip. I've been trained specifically on how to handle him if he gets out of line." He muttered back. "I'll keep an eye on her, though. Make sure she doesn't do anything to you that I would call out of line. She may be in command of you for now, but you're still my ward." The old man frowned and rubbed his neck.

Zieg took in a deep breath as the final lights of the sun exited the sky and relaxed some. In the darkness, the vampire looked every bit the legendary creature. His eyes cast a red hue, even when no light was present. However, he paused for a moment and tilted his head back up to the sky. He kept.. smelling.. something..

Darius turned to see his ward standing in the middle of the road. "You okay there?" He asked.

Zieg didn't answer, not entirely. Except...

In the gleam of the street lamp near by, one could see his perfect pointed teeth curved into a smile.

"Tonight is a wonderful night for a stroll." He said, uncharacteristically chipper suddenly. He slowly caught up to the handler, who shivered at the sight of his ward. "A lovely night indeed."

Morrigan hopped into the car and shut the door, barely waiting for the others.
 
Beck slammed the back door of the vehicle shut, pulling down hard on an external clamp that preventing anything from opening during the jostle and chaos of travel where roads were more of a preference or suggestion. Not many ventured out beyond the Third Ring, most because they wouldn’t want to and the rest because they weren’t allowed. Those that did were usually brought through in a careful manner as to hide the real devastation there and information was hard enough to come by for curious souls. It wasn’t pretty. War and its aftermath seldom were.

“Detached assignment,” he said with one last outer inspection of the vehicle, literally kicking some of the tires. Then, it obviously occurred to him that the two words, which would have been sufficient explanation for him, weren’t going to cut it for the girl. This was going to be more…complicated.

“We’re off on our own for now. Radio contact if we need it, and visual contact,” he said, bringing up an imaginary rifle and staring down the imaginary scope in the distance, “if they need it. We’re just a failsafe. Things go well, won’t break a sweat or have to do…whatever it is that you do.”

Beck climbed into the driver’s side of the vehicle. Even at his height, there was a need for the bolt-on step to climb into the cabin, the vehicle obviously not designed with someone Alaska’s height in mind.

“Let’s just get one thing very clear,” he said, staring straight ahead as he cranked in the engine.

“Stay where I can see you and do exactly what you’re told. I don’t know why you’re here and I damn sure didn’t ask for it, but I’m not dragging a body back to Kerrigan when this is over like some cat asking for a damn treat. Got it?”
 
Orion shot Zieg a look irked that he was taking Darius away from him and leaving him with the sadistic Kerrigan. He bit on the inside of his lip at Darius’s explanation, not even paying attention that Morrigan had gotten into the car. He shifted his attention back to his handler and managed a slight nod that he understood. At least he was going to keep an eye on her, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew if Zieg acted out, Darius would have to deal with that, which would give the bitch plenty of time to make him pay for what happened earlier.

“Understood… still sucks though” With that, he shot the vampire one more look, not bothered by just how spooky the male looked. He didn’t fear being attacked, not with Darius around. Moving to the car while his handler dealt with his new charge, Orion sat as far away from Kerrigan as possible, almost tempted to shoot her a dirty look as well.

BITCH.
 
With not much else to do, Alaska trailed after Beck as he inspected their transportation. She quirked a brow at him as he kicked at the tires. It wasn't the first time she'd seen someone do such a thing, but she wasn't entirely sure what it was meant to show. Maybe it was one of those things people just do, nodding self-satisfied once they'd done so.

"Oh." She breathed out a small sigh of relief. That would have been a rough ride, not worth the headache. "Nice to have a break from her, then." Two advantages to being on their own, really. She leaned on the car as Beck finished his inspection. When he was done, she followed his example and climbed -- literally, she had to pull herself up and in -- into the vehicle. Whatever it is you do... She wasn't sure how much help she would be. Feeling emotions can't do a whole lot except maybe warn ahead for a temper tantrum. Maybe she'd need to influence some emotions. Alaska hoped that wasn't the case, because she was not very good on that front.

Unable to resist a bout of sarcasm, Alaska offered Beck a salute. "Aye, aye, Captain."

It wasn't like she wanted her body dragged back, either. They could, at least, agree on that.

Leaning back in her seat, Alaska closed her eyes, her mind still on 'whatever it is you do'. Maybe it was time to learn a bit more about her temporary handler. She hadn't had an opportunity to do this with Kerrigan, yet. Inhaling deep, she opened her eyes, staring straight ahead. It took several minutes of deep breathing and emptying her mind before the scene unfolded in front of her. The scenery and the car faded; she could no longer see or hear what was happening in the real world. Instead, faint images sprang up around her, a room, a door... and then the memory started.


Wrong bag.

The thought, simple and succinct, registered immediately as soon as Praetor Beck stepped through the door. There was always a bag next to the door. Normally olive green, heavy-duty, water repellent, and ready to be slung over a shoulder or towed out the door for whatever waited next with little to no warning. For years a bag waited patiently to answer the call. And the call always came.

This was the wrong bag. And it wasn’t the only one. This wasn’t the neat, military-grade efficiency of a bug-out bag. This was luggage. Like someone was packing. Like someone was leaving. It didn’t take much to put the pieces together.

“So, you’re actually doing it.”

“Hell yes, I’m actually doing it. For years I’ve…no, we’ve been following you every step of the way. Always waiting. Always doing our part.” The words were carefully emphasized, the cutting syllables those obviously practiced for days, weeks, in silence for the moment they could finally be unleashed in a final barrage on their long-desired target.

“Lower your voice,” the deeper voice bellowed back in almost a warning growl, “or she’ll wake up.”

“And if she does then that’s my problem, not yours. That pattern was laid down a long time ago and I’m finally realizing that there’s not a damn thing doing to change it.”

Frustration. Anger. Rage. Resentment. Guilt. Fury. Hands clenched to fists until knuckles burned white.

“Fine. Go.”

There were no more words. Absolutely nothing left to say. Steps carried him down the hallway. He stopped for a moment at the closed door. In the absolute otherwise silence, he could hear the gentle and deep breaths of a child on the other side, obviously sleeping. His hand reached for the handle, pausing momentarily inches away before dropping back down to his side.

Then he walked out again, not grabbing the bag by the door as he did.

It wasn’t his, anyway.


Alaska blinked and the images faded, replaced by the metal of the vehicle and the passing scenery outside the window. She turned her head away from Beck, a small noise in the back of her throat, residual of his feelings from that moment in time.
 
"... And tell me...." The woman said, her cold steel hues glaring down at Morrigan and Beck from her seat as she straightened the papers in her hand by tapping it on the table. ".. How the hell did this operation go tits up as bad as it did?" Amaryu Setter was known for two things. She did not tolerate failure for one. For the other, she was worse than Morrigan.

Morrigan sat back against the leather chair back, eyes down. The healers were able to repair the damage done to her rather quickly and efficiently. She only had some minor bruising and scars on her shoulder and thigh to account that it had ever happened. Darius, on the other hand, was still in recovery. He had gotten the shot in time to stop the lycan infection from taking hold. But that did not mean he was out of the woods. As it always happens, he still had to fight off a nasty infection. After forty-eight hours, he had finally pulled through and was on the mend.

"To speak freely, ma'am.." Morrigan started. ".. This operation was a blind job to begin with. We were given minimal information--"

"You were told to seek and search for a werewolf. And while you did bring back the alpha of the pack, it was not the female fugitive. You came back barely alive, Darius was hanging on by a thread for a while there, and your temporary ward was used as a punching bag. And you've got no memories of it. You have nothing? Absolutely no information at all?"

Morrigan's jaw clenched. "No. They said the shock of what happened could have caused a short term memory loss. All the information that you received in the report were the accounts of my teammates. I have no memory of what happened."

Amaryu then turned to Beck. "And I've yet to receive your report from your commander. I still don't know why he insisted you and the other three of your division join these teams. We lost an entire team out there, including one of your own. Do you have any indication of when your commander will be giving me his report?"

Ah, this was why Amaryu had called Beck in, Morrigan thought. Normally Darius would be the one who would be called in with her in order to be debriefed. Amaryu was only using this as an excuse for information.
 
Beck remained silent and stoic as Morrison did her best in a bitch battle that saw her on the amusingly short end of the measuring stick. As much as he didn’t care for the smart-mouthed authority-bucket that was Orion and Alaska had earned some small tidbit of respect in his mind, Beck almost wished they could have been there to see the dressing down. Soon enough, however, targets shifted and he found himself in the crosshairs.

“Above my pay grade, ma’am,” he spoke without laying eyes on the woman, rigid posture locking gaze at the wall beyond. “Family death notifications might take more than few minutes. Grieving children and widows...notoriously inefficient.”

Maybe there was a reason he’d been passed over for high positions time and time again after all.
 
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