The People v. Eleanor Warwick
Promotion

As of yet, we have received no official explanation for the shots fired in the 8th Precinct station house. However, it has been confirmed that someone was killed. We have also learned that numerous federal agents are on site, though it is not yet clear as to why or what agency they represent.

The television clicks off, leaving Grey staring at her reflection in the blank screen. Setting the remote aside, she returns to her desk and takes a seat. She sighs heavily before leveling her gaze across the tabletop.

“Well, Henderson, I hope you’re happy.”

The agent sitting before her bristles at the comment. She knows damn well he isn’t.

“Now we have the media beating on the door demanding answers.”

“He was trying to get away with classified intel, ma’am,” he answers with defiant snort. “You’d have done the same.”

“Not in the middle of a police station. However, my response would have been irrelevant since I wouldn’t have given him the information to begin with.”

“I…he must have made me. Used his magic on me.”

“Obviously. That’s why we have ways of preventing that kind of thing, but it appears you were visiting Couch far more frequently than regulation allows.”

Henderson leans forward. He speaks slowly, careful to control his tone. “I am aware of regs, ma’am.”

“I know. That makes the fact that you defied them even worse.”

The agent moves to respond, but a knocking on the office door silences him. Grey looks past him and gives a wave. Another agent hustles in and hands her a sheet of paper.

Henderson watches her face for any indication of what she’s reading, but she remains inscrutable. Handing the paper back to the agent, she gives them a nod. “Assemble the team. I want SWAT and all the uniforms the locals can spare.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Watching the agent quickly exit, Henderson looks out through the window. As the agent speaks, colleagues and uniforms both spring into action. He turns back to find Grey removing her blazer and slipping on a Kevlar vest. “What’s happening?”

“We have visual confirmation of the Stone. Warwick is en route and her back up has been taken out for us. It’s time to move in.”

“I’ll gear up.”

“Negative.”

Henderson is nearly out the door by the time she speaks. He freezes and looks to her, eyebrow raised. “What?”

“Consider yourself benched pending a hearing.”

“A hearing?” The agent closes the door with more force than is necessary, his emotion getting harder to control. “You have got to be kidding!”

“I am not. I spoke with HQ. You will remain on active duty until this operation is concluded and then you’ll head to Washington for a hearing.”

“If I’m active, then who says I have to be benched?”

Ceasing her preparations, Agent Grey stares at him with frigid eyes. “I do. I can’t trust your judgment.”

Try as he might, Henderson can’t keep his mouth from falling open.

For three years, he has been the ideal agent and she ignores his contributions. Yet, after a single miscalculation, Grey’s tossing him aside. Struggling to hold on to what’s left of his composure, he speaks through gritted teeth.

“Permission to speak freely, ma’am.”

“Another time perhaps,” she answers flippantly, attaching an elastic band to each temple of a set of protective eyewear.

Henderson leans over the desk, palms down. “No! Right now!” Grey cocks an eyebrow but says nothing. “You may not want to acknowledge this, lady, but I am the best damn agent you’ve ever had! One fuck-up does not erase that! And we both know that this shouldn’t have any effect on my promotion!”

Grey’s ever-so-slight surprise at his outburst gives way to a look of ever-so-slight confusion. “Promotion? What promotion?”

“Don’t bullshit me! You’re resigning after this assignment!”

“Yes, I am.”

Her matter-of-fact reaction brings a quizzical look to Henderson’s face. “And I’m replacing you.” He hesitates. “Aren’t I?”

“No,” she answers bluntly.

Confusion gives way to shock. “What? Who is?”

“Jason Park.”

“Who the fuck it that?” Anger returns to his voice.

“A qualified candidate. I’d be happy to show you the recommendation I sent along with my resignation.”

“I don’t want to see the damn recommendation! I’m next in line for this job!”

“I know that, but you need to understand that there are people that give orders and people that take them. You take them. At least you usually do. I mentioned that in my recommendation.”

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“You were going to be the default choice. I had an obligation to the agency to give my honest assessment of how you would likely perform.”

“In other words, you torpedoed me!” he shouts.

“Call it what you’d like. It’s nothing personal, Henderson. You are just more valuable to the agency where you are.”

There are plenty of words Henderson has to fling at the woman. Each more bitter than the next, but it would be a waste of his breath and he knows it. She just stares at him with a cold expression.

Instead, he rises upright and buttons the front of his jacket. He holds Grey’s eyes with a hard glare as he turns and leaves her office.

Immediately dismissing the argument, Grey returns to her preparations. Bringing her dark hair back into a ponytail, she slips on the safety glasses. Gathering her Glock 29, she checks the magazine before slamming it back into place.

In all her operations there’s a moment when things are about to come together, when all the pieces are in place and the goal is in sight. That’s usually also when the operation is at its most delicate. When a single misstep can ruin months of effort and planning. She never likes to acknowledge it, but those moments bring tightness to her stomach.

This particular time, it’s worse than ever. This isn’t just another assignment. It’s her last assignment. She’s just a few hours away from being on the earliest flight to Columbus, Ohio.

Home.

A new life awaits her. A life with her children. No one, not Warwick, not Blackwell, not Henderson, is going to get in her way. Slipping the gun into her hip holster, she grabs her radio and sets out to lead her people.

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