The Littlest Spy

4. Last Choice

"I don't need a new partner," a muscular figure snapped, and he was sure that from the tone of his voice it would be clear that he was struggling to keep his anger under control. "I'm not doing that again. I won't have it on my conscience."

"Well, you're not going to Venezuela on your own." Emerson Kane could have been angry, but his voice betrayed as much frustration as a librarian ordering coffee. His arms rested comfortably on his desk, perfectly fitting into the narrow space between the blotter and the edge, and his fingers were steepled in front of him. "We have rules and protocols for a reason. And I believe this is now the seventh time you have petitioned to be assigned a solo job. You should have learned by now that the answer is not going to be 'yes'."

"But you need me! Nobody else can do what I can do. Nobody else would have managed to stop the Prosetzkin dossier from–"

"Nobody else would have broken the ambassador's Fabergé egg and left us with the bill, Brock. Nobody else would have left stories in the local paper about people doing rooftop parkour on the night of a major political incident. And Prosetzkin? I don't remember you having any exceptional computer hacking skills, Brock. In fact, I believe the mission reports showed that your largest contribution was fighting your way past two different groups of private security personnel, and knocking out two local police officers who were in the way."

"Nobody else could have–"

"Any other operative would have kept quiet, Brock. There was no need for the security firms to even know that you were in the building. And the intelligence you recovered would have been vastly more useful to us if they had been unaware we had it. Sure, you can take down a dozen armed criminals practically single-handed. But that doesn't mean you're any better than a man who can get in and out without being seen. You are not irreplaceable, Brock. And you're not invulnerable."

"You think I don't know that?" Brock couldn't help raising his voice this time. "Eight months in hospital. Three months with the shrinks prodding me, telling me I'm not ready to go back to action. And my partner..."

"You were offered counselling," Kane said, and for once his expression wasn't a perfect poker face. When it came to his subordinates, he would allow a flicker of emotion to enter his eyes. "The Agency has done everything in its power to help you deal with the outcome of your last assignment. However, there is a limit to how long we can humour you. You are ready to go back to the job, you have said that. And it is the opinion of our psychologists that a return to the field will be beneficial for your mental health. However, we cannot allow you to go alone. Especially not in your current state."

"And what does that mean," Brock snarled. "A new partner is a new risk. Someone to slow me down. Putting the mission in danger. Putting himself in danger. There's nobody here who can keep up with me. Ghost at least made himself useful, but–"

"But you said exactly the same thing when he was first assigned to work with you," Kane responded calmly, his crisp tones effortlessly cutting through Brock's yelling. It was the kind of calm tone that would make anyone terrified to see him lose his temper. "Yes, you have been through a traumatic experience. But I'm sure you don't blame your partner for the explosion, do you? You are prevaricating, Brock. Putting off the inevitable because you are afraid."

"I've never been scared. I've fought–"

"You're scared of caring. Scared that you aren't good enough. Scared of your own guilt, because you know why your methods are frowned upon. Yes, we may occasionally need someone of your unique skill set. But you also need to learn when it might be time to keep your head down and play by the rules. That versatility would vastly reduce the friction between you and your Handlers. Our motto is 'walk softly', not 'move fast and break everything', Brock."