Our Devils, page 37
One by one, all of Scar Gang held out their scars. Harmer’s men traded nervous glances with each other as Harmer stood up again. “My men tell me that no one from the FBI has set foot on this facility in over ten years. Director, remind me why you agreed to change that.”
Hugh smiled grimly. He clasped his hands behind his back to straighten his posture. “Our funding wasn’t designed to cover our current needs. We’ve had more devils come through in the last few weeks than all of recorded history combined. Your department’s help in the field has been invaluable, but I’m sure you’ve heard about their… limitations. No offense.”
“None taken, director. Even your limited cooperation has also been a big help. All of Washington wants to know what’s going on here, but all they know is that we have more intel than they do. That has been one hell of a bargaining chip.”
“I can imagine.” Hugh smiled and tried not to show too much relief. “I think it might be time to deepen that cooperation.”
Harmer smiled wide. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Chapter 82
After a brief tour of the facility, everyone landed back in the time capsule. Aaron realized that the funky old trailer actually made a great job of making their department look poorer than it really was. Which, under the circumstances, was pretty helpful.
“Damn,” chuckled Harmer. “Where do you get these muffins?”
“Local place in Trin,” beamed the director. “Yeasty Treats.”
“Terrible name,” said Harmer, taking another bite. “Great muffins.” His team seemed to agree.
Hugh claimed one for himself and sat down. “So we have two big priorities in the short term.”
“Perfecting scar bonding and keeping the Return Gate open,” said Harmer, as casual as could be.
Hugh sputtered and traded a look of surprise with Aaron. “You want to keep it open.”
Harmer took a sip of coffee to wash down his muffin. “Of course. If we could find a new source of gallium or germanium on the other side, that could be a game changer.”
“Rare earth materials,” mumbled Aaron. “You’re looking for raw resources.”
Harmer smiled, happy to let Aaron do the explaining for him. “Among other things, but yes. If we can cut east Asia out of chip production entirely, that alone would be worth the trip.”
Hugh chuckled, choking it down. “It’s good to know your priorities.”
Harmer leaned back, chomping at his muffin. “Priority two is perfecting the bonding process.”
Marcus finished a Burn Ward and piped in. “That’s priority two?”
Harmer smiled wide. “Mr. DuFresne, do you have any formal fighting experience?”
“I’ve been training with your agents. But a month ago I would have said no.”
“My men tell me you’ve had no less than twenty sparring matches with them, with only three losses.”
This was news to Marcus. He shrugged it off with a smile, trying to take the compliment in stride. “Scar bonds are serious stuff.”
“That they are,” agreed Harmer. “Now imagine our agents with scar bonds. And their own devils.”
Agency D’s people traded long, hard glances with each other. Nat put her muffin down. “You want to build an army.”
Harmer grinned wide. “I think we’re a little more capable than the Army, thanks. But if that’s what one man with no formal training can do, the sky’s the limit.”
Hugh huffed, grabbing everyone’s attention. “You know about project Ruby, right? Vietnam?”
“I do,” said Harmer. “Sending an unbonded devil into a warzone was a terrible mistake.”
“But sending bonded devils into a warzone isn’t?” Hugh leaned forward, letting his presence swell to fill the room.
Harmer leaned back and shrugged. “Isn’t that what you’re doing right now, director?”
Silence descended. A frog broke it. “Excuse me? Hugh?” Hugh turned to give Aster his full attention. “If I didn’t want to fight any more, would you let me stop?”
Hugh sat back, a little confused. “Of course,” said the director. “Do you want to?”
“Nope,” chirped the frog. “Just checking.”
Hugh smiled, turning back to Harmer. He raised his eyebrows in symbolic victory. Harmer blew right past it. “How many unpaired devils do you have here again?”
“Um,” Hugh opened his hands, fishing for whatever number would give him the edge.
“Forty nine in the bunk and seven in the hanger,” said the humorless man, missing the need for subterfuge.
Harmer whistled in awe. “Fifty six devils. That’s a lot of mouths to feed. Not to mention our friends here.”
Hugh stayed silent, not taking the bait. Harmer bossily snapped his fingers at one of his employees. They handed him a pen and a notepad to scribble on. “How about this. We take ten of them off your hands and… this should help you feed the rest.” He slid over the paper. Hugh read it. His poker face betrayed nothing.
Hugh spoke slowly. “And you’re going to try and pair them with your people, I assume?”
“Something like that,” said Harmer, not committing one way or another.
Aaron sensed an opening and went for it. “How much do you know about the bonding process?”
“We know that it’s rare to achieve a bond,” admitted Harmer. “And that most attempts don’t work.”
Aaron snapped back. “And that it can kill the human if bonding fails?”
The room went silent as the other Agency D employees stared at him. Aaron knew he was crossing a line, but it felt like one worth crossing. “I wrote the program for safely matching pairs, and we have data from the last Gate that I haven’t even added yet.” He leaned back again and crossed his arms. “Unless you would rather break a few eggs.”
Hugh looked like he wanted to step in, but he kept his mouth shut and gave Aaron a stern nod of approval.
Harmer mirrored Aaron’s pose and asked “What do you propose?”
Aaron barreled onward. “What if we help you pair a few devils?”
Harmer traded a cryptic glance with another agent. “And what would you want for that?”
“Well,” said Aaron. “We need to get serious about Gate research. How about funding for a dedicated department? We can put the building right over there. Call it the Harmer Center for Gate Research.”
Harmer actually broke out laughing. He pointed at Aaron but looked at Hugh, shaking his head as if to say ‘Where did you find this crazy bastard?’ Hugh couldn’t have been prouder.
Harmer settled down and snatched the paper back to scribble a new number. He slid it towards Hugh and the director read it. Without knowing the dollar amount it was hard for most of Agency D to fully judge the exchange. Harmer went for the kill. “So do we have a deal?”
Hugh stared at Harmer for a long moment, eventually turning to, of all people, Aster. The devil squinted in thought and nodded back. Then Hugh turned to Aaron and gave him a look that said ‘Oh shit are we about to do this?’
Aaron just nodded to the paper. “That’s an annual budget, right?”
Hugh smiled and turned to Harmer. “And is that in addition to the annual budget you already provide us, or does this supersede that?”
Harmer grimaced. “This supersedes that.”
Hugh smiled wider. “I don’t think it does.”
Chapter 83
Hugh watched from the time capsule as more vehicles showed up, shiny new SUVs and black panel vans alike. Several of Marcus’s training buddies stepped out, giving him brief fist bumps as they passed. Minutes later they returned with several of the labbies and several more dog kennels. Gina traded a brief, anxious look with Hugh—she wasn’t happy to see any of their devils go, even if she got to pick the ten.
Harmer stepped up to stand with Hugh. “I have to say, this has been a treat.”
“I’m glad we were able to work things out,” drolled Hugh. While he shared Ginai’s tension, Aaron’s offer to have Agency D handle all of the FBI’s bonding was the perfect way to test their intentions. After all, if the FBI just wanted to dissect their new devils, there would have been no reason for Harmer to jump at Aaron’s offer as aggressively as he did.
Together, they watched the agents secure the last of the kennels and step into their vehicles. Harmer leaned in and nudged Hugh’s side. “One more thing, director. When it comes to the big C, our lips are sealed. The last thing we need is big pharma in the mix.”
Hugh’s eyes went wide before he could stop them. Harmer clapped him on the back and chuckled dryly. “Don’t be so surprised, Hugh. We’re the FBI, after all.”
The FBI’s people began departing and Harmer stepped down towards the remaining SUV, turning once more to face Agency D’s people. “Thank you all for the visit. You’ve been great hosts.” He pointed at Hugh, adding “Yeasty Treats?”
“Corner of Howard and Schaal,” smiled the director.
“Dumb name,” chuckled Harmer. “Great muffins.” And like that, he was gone.
The group watched them in silence until the last car dipped out of sight. The second it was gone for good, Hugh slugged Aaron in the shoulder. His smile cracked and broke into a hearty laugh.
Aaron exhaled in relief. “So does that mean we’re good then?”
“Oh, we’re good,” beamed Hugh. “We’re very good.”
Everyone piled back inside the time capsule where the remaining snacks evaporated within seconds. They debriefed for a while, taking stock of what went right and what went wrong, and what the FBI did and didn’t know. Soon the subject turned towards their next steps. Hugh took the lead.
“For the foreseeable future, we’re going to operate under the assumption that we have gone through the last surge of wild devils before the endgame. That means all of Scar Gang is on training, every day. The lab team will fully focus on bonding new pairs for us, bonding the FBI’s ten devils, and preparing to study the return Gate. Medical will assist them until they are needed to provide care. Any objections?”
If anyone did have objections, they didn’t show it. Hugh dismissed his team but asked Scar Gang to stay. He unlocked the file cabinet and rooted around for a file. His expression softened to a guilty smile. “I want to show you all something.”
The man opened the file and began handing out photographs. He told Aaron to “Please excuse the haircut.”
Hugh looked so much younger, but there was no one else it could have been. His hair was messy and frizzy, his shoulders were absolutely massive, and he was beaming from ear to ear.
Next to him was a devil. He was bipedal, about four or five feet tall, with gentle eyes and a face shaped like a lumber axe. His body was covered in slick black and orange skin with white tattoo-like accents. He had large claws on both his hands and feet, and a thin seahorse tail that curled up at the end. Around his neck was a shaggy black mane, giving his dinosaur-like form just a touch of lion.
“That’s Elton.” Hugh choked up a bit—it was clear he hadn’t taken these photos out in a while. “There he is.”
They posed back-to-back in one photo. Elton was on his shoulders in another. In the next they were playing football. Running on treadmills. Sparring. Eating ice cream. A whole, short life together.
Hugh jammed his fingers into one of the pictures and addressed Pulsar. “If any of you see him on the other side—”
“We’ll find him,” said Aster, resolute.
“We’ll tell him.” Orion’s violet eyes flickered in the light.
“We’ll bring him back,” said Pulsar, making a fist.
“Oh.” said Verne, earning several different looks. “He looks so small.”
“He was bigger at the end.” Hugh dug around for a specific photo. “Almost six feet tall.”
“No,” said Verne. “He’s bigger now.”
Hugh nearly ripped the photo in shock. “He’s bigger now?”
“Much bigger,” said Verne, jumping from one of Jess’s shoulders to the other. “He’s scary. Dangerous.” She shivered.
And so, Verne told Hugh and everyone else that his devil was alive and well, some twenty years later. More than that, he had become a bit of a tyrant, lord of his own little corner of the devils’ world. She described a huge devil some fifteen feet tall at the shoulder and thirty feet long to the tip of its tail. She even sketched a crude little picture to illustrate. Hugh snatched her right off the table and hugged her with a deep, thankful sob.
Most of the others stopped to pat Hugh on the back, or give him some word of support, but the hare was stunned into silence. Even his tail stopped twitching. The idea of not seeing his human for decades made his heart lodge in his throat. Would they even recognize each other when they reunited? Would they still feel all these feelings, after all that time? Could they even bond again, or was this all they got? He looked to his human. Aaron’s face hid all those same fears behind a much sturdier mask. As far as he’d come in these last weeks, Aaron still didn’t love showing the others his softer side. So Pulsar resolved to give him the biggest hug, and the biggest cry, the next chance he got.
But as soon as their eyes met, Aaron’s mask shattered. The man lurched forward and snatched the devil in a bigger, tighter hug than he ever could have hoped for. Together they wept shamelessly.
Aster found himself looking at the photos a little longer than the rest. His gaze landed on Verne’s crude sketch of the tyrant Elton, lonely and lumbering. And then he looked to Marcus, who had been following his gaze the whole time. Marcus laid a hand on his head and ruffled his mohawk before crouching down to meet him eye to eye. “Hey,” said the man. “Promise me you’ll stick with the gang, on the other side.” The frog nodded enthusiastically.
Orion swiveled her head towards him and smiled with all her eyes. “We hunt together now,” she said, so quietly. “All of us. No matter where we are.” Marcus was overwhelmed with gratitude and wrapped his arms around them both. Even Nat’s defenses eroded just enough to smile.
Jess petted Verne’s head as she watched her team come unglued. It didn’t take much for them to start crying too. “You’ll stick with them, right?”
The monkey nodded rapidly. Her smile trembled. “Of course, Jess. Scar Gang never dies.” Jess snatched the devil off her shoulder and hugged her tight.
At long last, everyone said their goodbyes and Scar Gang departed for the park. When they arrived, they found that Chuy and Bradbury were back a little early, and they were already a little crossfaded.
When Chuy saw them approaching, he set to work on packing a fresh bong. Chuy was injured in a sparring match just enough to put him out of commission for the day, so Bradbury called it short to stay with him. The triceratops had already grown larger than his human, standing around six feet tall. Bradbury sat with his arm over Chuy’s shoulder and a gentle smile on his face. Despite only being bound for a few days longer than Verne and Jess, they were already thick as thieves.
It reminded Aaron of something Dr. Cohen told him, back at the lab. The doctor said that the scar bond had a funny little side effect that didn’t get brought up much: when a pair bonds, both halves experience significantly higher levels of oxytocin, dopamine, and related hormones. On a chemical level, it made both halves feel trust and attachment, sometimes bordering on addiction. The doctor thought it explained why they could form such meaningful relationships in such short amounts of time. Aaron watched Bradbury whisper something to his human that made him laugh, hard, and any doubt he had about that theory evaporated in an instant.
The gang decided to celebrate with a large order from a nicer steakhouse. After securing more funding, Aaron thought it was appropriate to splurge a little. Danny and Titan showed up as they were ordering, and they even extended the offer to Miss Sakura. They never heard back from her though.
“What are we watching tonight?” asked Aaron, setting the remote down to take his turn with the bong.
Orion chirped. “Do we have to watch something? Let’s just talk.”
Marcus took the read of the group and put on some mellow Japanese rock instead. “Bet.”
Danny changed into his sweats and got settled, offering a fresh round of beers around. He kicked back and said, “Yo Aaron. You should say something.”
Aaron claimed a beer for himself. “Why should I say something?”
“Well, you’re kind of the leader, right?”
Aaron smiled, a little touched that he would think that. But he shook his head. “Fuck no. That would be Marcus.”
Marcus looked stunned. “Me?”
“Yeah, you.” Aaron scoffed, as if it was obvious. “You’re all about that anime life, so I want to hear your anime speech.”
“You’re crazy.” Marcus sputtered, bewildered. “You got me into this, bro. I wouldn’t be here without you. You gave me my first sword, man.”
Aaron smiled back at him. “You found me on your own. And now you kick my ass all the time.”
“That doesn’t make me a leader.” Marcus dangled his beer, staring at the ground. “Remember when I quit my job like a dumbass?”
“Exactly,” barked Aaron. “You were all in while I was taking PTO. And now you’re the badass with the sword and the goggles. You run circles around all of us.” Marcus looked to his frog and the devil gave him a goofy little smile.
Aaron took a swig and leaned back with a chuckle. “Give your damn speech, hero.”
Marcus locked eyes with him. A part of him still thought Aaron was just trying to weasel out of giving a speech, but the longer he looked, the more sincere the big man looked. Marcus realized just how deeply thankful he was for it, and he returned a tight smile. Marcus stood up and sipped his beer deeply, hoping the words were in there somewhere. He put the bottle down to stall for just another second before he spoke. “I don’t know about you all, but the last few weeks have been the best fucking time of my life.”
A few bottles went up in support.
“But we’ve also been through the worst shit. Lost some great people. Great devils.” He caught Nat’s eye, acknowledging her pain with a gentle nod.
“I don’t want to lose anyone else. Humans, devils, civilians… agents. No one. So I’m going to train my ass off and be ready for whatever comes next, because… what the fuck else would I do?” A round of smiles and cheers went around, and more drinking.
