Dangerous Chess

She was awoken with a loud bang and a quiet curse from the kitchen. Easing the drawer of her nightstand open, she grasped for the knife that was always there. Silently, she slid through the main room of the apartment that she had scrupulously checked for squeaky spots a month ago when she moved in. Turning to face the open kitchen, she had half a mind to throw the knife when the curly head of hair that could only mean trouble appeared from below her counter.

“Cat, hi.” He said, as if it was normal for him to be in her kitchen at this hour.

She shifted her weight in reply.

“Coffee?”

She put down the knife, and took the cup that was offered to her, but didn’t drink yet - hoping this wouldn’t take long, and she could go back to bed after.

“Wondering what’s brought me here?”

“I’m wondering if your training needs more upkeep than your life in the suburbs allows for.”

“Your stuff is not where it was in the last place. It took me all night to find this place and get inside.”

“Like I said, you’re slipping.”

“We have about 5 minutes,” he replied.

She started sipping her coffee. George didn’t bother catching her up, didn’t bother drinking coffee, just sat next to her and took in the new walls, art, and furniture that she had decorated with. From the crumpled Red Bull can, and the fresh one right beside it, not to mention their history of competition, she knew that they were waiting for his brother. George had made it into the apartment, and even brewed the coffee before waking her up, but his brother would be close behind. What looked like a child’s toy - a miniature, gooey, neon hand - suddenly slapped the window in the kitchen. And again.

“Are you going to let him in?” she asked.

George lifted himself off the couch, and made his way to the window where his brother slipped in, not making a sound, and bringing a box of what looked like pastries.

“Katie, we’re in need of some expertise,” Gage said.

Standing side by side, the two boys could be mistaken for brothers, and it was a source of pride, they weren’t raised together, but looked up to each other, and had been a team for longer than Catherine had known them. Sometimes she was partnered with them while working for the agency, and was introduced to their revelrous style of reconnaissance, that - to her shock - seemed to work, and work even better with her thoroughness and planning behind it.

Because about four minutes had passed, and whatever it was seemed to be urgent, she finished her coffee, handed her cup to George, and went to get dressed. If both of them were here at three in the morning, it didn’t spell emergency on a national level, but she knew she wouldn’t be going back to sleep.

As she looked for her most versatile set of clothes, she heard murmured conversation about the routes they had taken to find her new apartment. That’s part of what made them one of the best teams, and why she enjoyed working with them. A long going, healthy competition, where they each strived to outshine each other, and when one of them won, the other would learn from it. She had learned a fair bit from them herself, and they had benefitted from her methodical nature on missions as well. Whatever they came here for tonight, they were in need of some aspect of her expertise.

She emerged to find them sitting on the couch, and took the chair across from them. Her cup of coffee was back in front of her, and full, and the box of pastries was open. Gage must still be seeing the baker, these were still warm, and perfect, almost worth being awake when she could have been asleep instead. She took a pastry and waited for them to start talking.

“Something’s come up wit---

“We need your help we can’t---

She raised an amused eyebrow at them.

Gage took over, “Do you remember that case you helped us with a few years ago when we were in France?”

She did, and remembered tying it up nicely and then going on a week long trip to Greece while writing up the report, while the two in front of her took care of everything physical. She had almost forgotten about it. Just one among hundreds of missions that had gone according to plan that were, well not easy, but pretty mild in the line of their work. They had posed as diplomats from the states, and found enough blackmail, not only to accomplish the mission of taking control of Lucida, a vital port city in some trade or another, but to clear the way for the real diplomats, who were not trained in anything but manners, politics, and hosting parties.

“It seemed pretty shut and closed when we were done,” she said, remembering writing up the report, that everything had gone according to plan, and was ready for the real diplomats. And it had been fine - for about 3 years. What was suddenly coming up now?

“Everything there is still fine, we did a great job, we always do.” He shared a look with George that meant they were the best and knew it.

“It’s a new job, new country even, but the same syndicate is taking control of this city too. We were wondering, since you learned all there is to know about them last time, if you would help us out with this one.”

There was the request. She expected something like this, since unofficially retiring from the agency a year ago, she had received a few offers, mostly research based jobs, and asking for her expertise. She only took the ones she found interesting. While she was training, and had just begun at the agency, her mentor had told her that she had found her way in, but told her to find her way out of this work, too. That mostly meant being smart with her bonuses, not buying a Porsche, not wearing (and losing) the latest watches, like many of the young men did, and investing. She had been tough and smart enough to join the agency, and had been smart enough to leave and live the rest of her life as she pleased. The trouble was that she enjoyed this work.

“Why did you need to wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me this?”

“Well,” George started, “Xander Linsky has just landed at JFK, and doesn’t have a return flight booked”

She remembered the name of the second in command of the crime syndicate - he was usually extremely precautious, and did not make mistakes. She smiled, a worthy opponent, pulling the strings on the other side. She had enjoyed that job in France for that reason, she respected his tactics and plans. This would be a fun game of chess with her two best weapons sitting across from her.