Mint demolished my place. For absolutely no reason.

The asshole must be out of control. He tore the kitchen counter out of the floor like the Chief in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Well, he should be confined to a mental institution too. That's not normal.

He got a bit too angry for not finding me at home. He realized that I had the formula, but he's too stupid to know that if he had left the place intact, he could have returned later to catch me there.

He's never been the brightest.

That was me.

I want to tell Gabriel about the break-in, but she's not answering her phone.

Her last day at the kindergarten must have been too distressing for her. She's probably still there, executing the first steps of her lamb disbanding protocol.

I try to clean up the mess, but it's too much work for one day. Mint's been thorough, I'll give him that. He left no stone unturned. Or unbroken.

When the sun goes down, I try to call Gabriel again. She's still not answering. I don't want to disturb her, not at all, but she might need a ride home. I don't like the idea of her wandering alone on the streets, in the darkness, lost in her sorrow.

The kindergarten's windows are mostly dark, only one room seems to be brightly lit. She must be in there.

I hope I don't catch her in the middle of sacrificing a sheep. Which step was that? The fourth? The fifth?

When I approach the door, I hear crying. My, she must be terribly upset. It's not like her to cry at all.

I peek inside.

She screams and tries to close the door on my head. I don't let it happen. She might be very sad, but even that's not a good enough reason to let her kill me.

"Oh, is it you?" she asks breathlessly, two seconds later, pinned to the wall, in a way that I don't hurt her but make sure that she won't attack me again.

That's when I realize that it's not her. Well, it's a woman, but a different one, not Gabriel.

A woman I've never seen, I think. With a puffy face and cried-out, red eyes.

I murmur an apology, and I let her go.

"What are you doing here?" she huffs, not even trying to step away from me. I find it interesting.

"Do we know each other?" I ask her instead of answering.

"I'm Nicole," she sobs. "You don't remember me because I'm not interesting enough to be remembered, and now I don't even have a kindergarten to manage, and—"

"Whoa," I interrupt her ramblings. "Of course, I remember you. You just looked so different last time."

"And I've never planned you to see my ugly cry face. But that's my luck."

"Hey, your ugly cry face is kinda cute," I assure her, letting her bury said face in my chest.

It wasn't the wisest thing to say, probably, because her sobbing intensifies.

"There, there," I murmur, patting her shoulders. "You looked beautiful the last time we met, but this is your real face, right? I like it. You look like a human, not like a doll."

"You never called." Her tone isn't even accusing. It's just sad.

"I've been busy. But now I'm here in person, right?"

She raises her face and stares me in the eyes as if she's experiencing an epiphany.

"Maybe Edie was right!"

"Well, she's always right, it seems," I agree.

"Her advice sounded so stupid. It was something like that if a method doesn't work, the next logical step is to test the opposite. So if being pretty doesn't work, I should try to be—"

"What?"

"Nothing," she says, with a weak little smile. But it's a smile, finally.

"Okay." I smile back. "What are you doing here this late?"

Well, that smile didn't last long. Her eyes fill with tears again.

"I'm guarding house, I guess," she cries. "I tried to go home, but I can't. I have nothing at home. And now, I don't have anything here, either. The children are gone. The teachers are gone. I'm all alone. I lost everything!"

She buries her face in my chest again. Her muffled voice is full of pain.

"What will I do now? Without my children, who aren't even mine, huh? They were my life! I don't have a life outside this fucking kindergarten! What have I become?"

I put my arms around her.

"Well, you still have your friend," I remind her. "Gab... um... Edie. Where is she now, by the way?"

"She went home."

"No, she didn't," I inform her.

I see her eyes narrowing. It wasn't the wisest thing to say, again.

"She's probably out there, peeping at the kids in her class," I add quickly. "She used to do that, it's part of her farewell process, and don't worry, she's harmless, I mean, she's not stalking them, just a little, and—"

"You're saying this as if it was a bad thing." Nicole furrows her brow. "Peeping at the children to make sure that they are all right is totally normal."

Okay. I'm walking through a minefield here.

"I see that Edie rubbed off on you."

"We've never talked about this issue," she says, sounding hurt. "Everyone does that."

"Okay." I nod, making a quick decision. "I agree. It's totally normal. And I bet it'd make you feel better to take a look at the kids windows to see that they are at home, safe and warm. Do you want a ride?"

Her eyes light up in a second. I don't mention Gabriel again, but I secretly hope that we find her somewhere along the way. Now I'm a bit worried about her. I know she survived a few years without me by her side, but I want to be sure that she's okay.

"It's Zoe's house, that one, on the corner," Nicole instructs me, "so you can park here. They live on the third floor. Door 5. Which one is their window?"

"That one," I point at the target. "See, they're at home."

"How can you locate it so fast?"

"Practice," I answer absent-mindedly. "These types of buildings all share the same layout."

"What do you do? Are you an architect?"

That's another quick decision to be made.

"I am," I answer. "For the time being."

We watch the window of Zoe's family for a few minutes. Everything seems to be in order. Nothing's on fire. No smoke. No alarm going off. No incoming attack. And if there would be one, Zoe's flat is a spot that's relatively easy to defend with two persons only, one out on the balcony and one behind the window.

I refrain from sharing my latter observation with Nicole, though. I'm not sure if she knows how to handle an automatic weapon, even if I stationed her behind the window and I took on the defense of the balcony. On the other hand, I use my voice to vote against her proposal of ringing the bell and running away when they come out to check who it is. It wouldn't provide us with further data regarding Zoe's wellbeing, but her parents would freak out.

During the next hour, we visit Bob, Tessa, and Tobey. Tessa has a dog called Boo; that's the only noteworthy intel we gather. Everyone else is indoors, preparing for bed. Not a big surprise; it's late now, and it's dark outside.

I call Gabriel's phone again. She's still not answering.

"All right." I turn to Nicole. "Enough of peeping for today, okay? Let's have a drink somewhere."

"Places are closed because of the curfew," she says, blushing a little. She probably jumped to the next option mentally.

"My place is a mess," I admit. "Like, literally. It's not in a presentable state."

"And my place," she answers, blushing madly, "it wouldn't be right."

I suppress a smile.

"I know a place," I tell her. "A pub."

"How can that be open?"

"It's not open. But I bet there's someone guarding house there, too."

On our way, I check Gabriel's flat. Her windows are still dark. It's time to admit that something's not right. It's too early to be asleep, and it's too late to not be at home.

"What's wrong?" Nicole asks. "Why did you stop? Are we there yet?"

It's another quick decision to make. There are too many of them today.

"No," I answer. "I just heard something from the engine."

Frank's pub looks eerie from the outside, with a faint light seeping through the windows.

"Hey, Frank, it's me," I shout, knocking on the door.

"Who? Du... du... dude, I almost shat myself when I saw someone coming in," he corrects himself, seeing that I'm not alone. "It's good to see you, man. And your lady friend, of course."

"She's Nicole," I introduce her. "I thought you'd be here, Frank."

"Where else could I go?" he says, with a painful grimace. "That fucking virus made me realize that I don't have a fucking life outside this fucking pub! This place is my life! What have I become?"

"Well, many of us seem to share this sentiment at the moment," I tell him, aiming to console him with empty pleasantries. But as soon as I utter it, a strange thing happens. My own superficial words strike me as the indisputable truth.

It's not only Frank and Nicole. It's me, too. Since I've been keeping a distance from the Agency, all I do is drift from one place to another, without any kind of aim or meaning. I don't have a life, and I don't even know where to look for one, other than clinging to people from my past, from the Agency days, like Gabriel. What have I become, indeed.

"We're in this together," I mumble, grabbing three empty glasses. "Let's drink."

And we do.

We drink a lot. Much more than we should.

The pandemic forces us to drink. We're mourning our pathetic lives. Not the one we might lose—the one we've never had, in the first place.

"This virus is like a fucking mirror," Nicole cries. "It shows us how empty we are."

I hug her shoulder to provide her with moral support. And physical. She might fall off of her chair soon.

"Totally," Frank agrees. "We're slaves to our fucking situations. And what good have our so-called occupations ever done to us? Nothing. They won't keep us warm at night. They leave us broken and empty."

I hug his shoulder, too. He's telling the truth. And I feel more or less stable between them two. Clinging to them keeps me from hitting the table with my forehead.

"Those children aren't even yours, Nicole," Frank goes on. "You can't take them home. And look at you, Duke! Your fucking job forced you to kill your best friend! No wonder you drink too much!"

Decisions. Quick and inevitable decisions. They are coming at me, approaching me and staring me in the face. Today, there are so many of them. And they all are asking me the same question.

Do you want to keep lying to everyone, Duke? For what? Do you have a reason? Haven't you had enough of being locked away by the secrets you have to keep?

"That's not true, Frank," I blurt out. "He's still alive."

Wow, that came out easier than I thought. Frank doesn't even blink hearing the information; he's so drunk.

"I allowed him to leave the Agency," I go on, "because he was kinda suicidal, just like you diagnosed him, Frank. And Gabriel's alive, too. She's Edie, by the way. Your friend, Nicole, is the most successful tactical controller in human history. Or, if there's life on Mars, in the whole Galaxy."

Nicole hiccups, acknowledging the intel. I pull her head closer. And Frank's, too.

"I can tell you everything now," I explain to them. "Because we're a team."

They seem to agree. Or, they don't protest, at least.

"I lost my old team," I go on. "But with you, I got a new one. We need to save the world, you know. Now that Gabriel disappeared—"

"Disappeared?" Nicole asks. "You mean, Edie?"

"Yes. But don't worry. She probably just had enough of me and that other asshole and left town. Not for good, if we're lucky."

"The other asshole?" Nicole laughs. "The one who brought Tobey back? Daryl... devil... him."

I stare at her with my mouth agape. It's a moment of sudden clarity. The very moment Nicole mentions Mint, I feel as if a puzzle's pieces were re-arranging themselves in front of my eyes.

I spring to my feet, tumbling the table over.

"Mint took her! The asshole assaulted my place and kidnapped Gabriel!"

Nicole screams. I'm not sure if it's my announcement that scared her or the waste of good booze.

"Don't worry," I mumble, picking up the glasses from the ground. "He won't hurt her."

"Are you sure?" Frank asks, conjuring a new bottle from the bar.

"I'm one hundred percent sure," I answer. "Mint might be an asshole, he might have gone rogue, but he'd never hurt her."