Piles of files were stacked to eye level atop Kindel's desk. Every miniscule tidbit of information on all Fortress operatives was heaped before him like a haystack. He must find the elusive needle. The clock ticked loudly, incessantly drawing his attention. He had a weeks' worth of work and only a handful of hours to complete it. They weren’t paying him enough for this crap.
He closed his bloodshot eyes and took a few deep breaths. He couldn't pull this off. The weight of his thoughts pulled down on his shoulders like an over-stuffed backpack. What would they do to him if he failed? Fortress couldn't fire him—he was privy to too many government secrets. However, they could demote him. Kindel shuddered.
He focused on the piles in front him. He had been through every single page. He knew every operative personally; he managed three quarters of them. And not one stood out as the obvious choice for the black ops mission.
Kindel pushed his chair out and began pacing the floor of his office, too agitated to care that pacing was very un-elfish. The King had clearly lost his head, and the high council stood behind him, cheering on this folderol. They had formed a plan and dropped it right in his lap. He would do all the work, and the council would take all the credit. Like always.
Kindel ground his teeth. He needed an operative who specialized in combat and stealth. He had plenty of those. Not a spy. Kindel hated spies. He needed someone he could trust, someone loyal to him. But more than anything, he needed someone versatile and also, unfortunately, expendable. He needed…He needed…
His phone vibrated in his pocket. A text from Forest. He read it, half-smirking, half-scowling. Why did she always call him The Suit?
Suit, leaving work two hours early. Dock my pay if you want. Oh wait, forgot I'm salaried.
–blows raspberry— Forest
Forest! It hit him like a sucker punch from an ogre. He needed Forest. Forest was the solution to his problem. An imperfect, knotty solution, but selecting her made sense.
He ought to reprimand her for her insolence and work habits, but Earth was low on his list of priorities. Personally, he didn’t really care if the whole human race was annihilated, but it was part of his job to oversee the portals from Regia.
Kindel dug into the mound of paper and fished out Forest’s file. He scanned through it, wishing he could edit out a few little unsavory things. His logic for selecting Forest for this mission was undeniable, as were the strong objections he knew the council would raise. He sat back down, dipped his quill in ink, and began to write the proposal.
Forest’s eyes loomed in Kindel’s mind. He couldn’t conjure her face, as he had no idea what it really looked like. He wished she had been born a pure blood elf, like him, and not some cast off, illegitimate Halfling. As it was, she was considered the lowest of beings in all the world of Regia. His respect for her was second to none because no one else gave her any. She was undeniably shady, and bad tempered, and had a love affair with weapons that Kindel didn’t understand. Through the years he had watched her battle harder than anyone else, only to achieve less. She was the only Halfling Fortress operative in all of Regia’s history.
Kindel rolled his thin shoulders and cracked his neck. He knew Forest didn’t fantasize about him the way he did about her, and that was best, he told himself. Nevertheless, he longed to see her true face, if only for a moment. But she couldn’t have shown Kindel her real face even if she wanted to. When she finally met her destined life mate, she would never be able to hide her true form from him.
Kindel agonized over the mission proposal for the next few hours. He wanted to be realistic and fair to Forest if she succeeded, but not so much that the council would notice his favoritism. Using her was going to be a hard sell. The council met in the morning, and should they approve the mission, Kindel would meet with Forest in the evening before her shift. Kindel smirked. She might be an even harder sell than the council.