"Hey, Duke—"

"Don't call me Duke, Frank."

"But Nicole already knows everything! And it wasn't me who spilled it. Never mind. I still can't believe your generalized anxiety disorder made you let Mint go rogue! You know how fucking dangerous he is."

"Don't disclose my classified medical data, Frank."

"Oh, fuck off. Nicole sees that just by looking at you."

"No, I don't," Nicole protests.

"You do," Frank retorts. "You're just in denial. Possibly your sudden depressive episode—"

"I'm not depressive," she disputes.

"I see that you're struggling."

"Yeah. With the worst hangover of the century."

"Ah, okay. But yesterday's hypomanic phase—"

"I was just happy, okay? And drunk. Just like you, Frank."

"Yeah, and why were you so happy, huh? Mere hours ago, you were depressed because of your kindergarten. Then happy, then depressed again. I see a pattern there, Nicole."

"None of your business," she answers, taking a hidden glance at me.

"You might be bipolar."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Will you two shut up, please?" I ask them, trying to keep my voice low. Not just to be polite, also to refrain my head from splitting in two. "Frank, stop analyzing her. Nicole, please forget everything you heard."

"But we're a team," they protest in unison.

I bury my face in my hands.

"And Edie's my problem, too," Nicole adds. "She's my friend, and whatever she might be called, Gabriel or not, she's the only person I can discuss our children in satisfying detail with. I want her back."

"I want her back too," I tell her.

"That's your oedipal complex speaking," Frank interjects. "What does she look like, by the way? Like an angel? Were you relieved when you realized that she was a woman, or it wouldn't disturb you at all if the whole team had fallen collectively for a dude with a big beard?"

"Whose complexes are we talking about now?" I snort. "Yours, Frank? Why would it disturb me? It was just a game."

"A game?! I treated you after her so-called death. You and the guys, and all of you needed it, badly. So quit the bullshit, Duke."

"Stop using my fucking codename all over the place! And stop disclosing classified information!"

"I won't talk about it to anyone," Nicole says. "And I think Duke fits you. I understand very well why you got it."

"I don't care! This is another conversation that shouldn't be happening. The origin of a codename is not something you discuss with people you just met! It feels like standing naked in front of you!"

Okay, another thing I shouldn't have mentioned. She doesn't seem troubled by the image in the least; she blushes like a rose, instead. Her hangover face is kinda cute, too, with her weary eyes and disheveled hair. She looks like an alcoholic fairy without make-up.

"Back to Edie, then," she says, clearing her throat. "Your old friend took her, but he won't hurt her. So—"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Frank cuts in. "Mint has anger management problems, besides the same old psychological projection, concentrating all known female archetypes in Gabriel, but that was like an epidemic in the old team. What does it mean to you, Duke?"

"That he's even nuttier than me?"

"That he might kill Gabriel on impulse," Frank states with a somber expression.

I take a minute to ponder the possibility of convincing myself to accept his version. It would make things so much easier. But I can't. I know Mint better than myself.

"No, he won't," I state, after a long silence. "Not as if it would change anything. I have to kill him this way or another, but not to save her life. To save mine. And millions of other people."

They both stare at me, wide-eyed.

"If anything," I go on, "Mint will be needed to be saved from her. She'll manipulate the shit out of him. None of you are aware of her real potential. Nicole, to you, she's a terrific kindergarten teacher with strange habits. Frank, you think you know a lot about her, but you don't, honestly, because you've never heard her in action."

They still seem a bit doubtful.

"Her brain is something else," I explain. "Everything she does, or says, has a purpose. And now she's working to reach the best outcome of the pandemic situation."

"I'm still worried about her," Nicole says. "Let's save her! And the world, in one go."

I stare at her. She's not joking, apparently.

"Damn right, captain," Frank joins. "We're a team, huh? Just tell us what to do."

I hope he's joking, at least. But he's not, either.

"Come on," Nicole insists. "We have nothing to do! We gave up our normal lives! We're the ideal secret whatever material. I'm ready to die for y—for the cause!"

"You'll need help, Duke," Frank sighs. "No man is an island. You seemed to know this yesterday evening, man."

"That's out of the question!" I burst out. "Frank, you're a civilian, who thinks that treating agents turned you into an agent, too. And Nicole, you're—"

I almost call her a lemming, but I don't want to hurt her. She's very brave, in fact. And I made a promise to Gabriel regarding her, that, at least once, I'll—okay, that's not closely related to the issue in question.

"—you're a civilian, and you believe in a falsely romanticized version of what I do, but the truth is, even in the rare case you survive, it fucks you up beyond repair. That's why I can't play spies with you, okay? And the same goes for you, Frank. You're a very good friend, but just listening to our stories fucked up your mind, so I absolutely can't and I won't—"

Just before I finish my beautiful de-motivational speech, my phone rings.

It's Mr. Toe, so I need to pick it up.

"One moment," I whisper to my no-team, and I leave the building.

"How's life, dear son?" he asks.

"Good," I answer warily.

"I'm so glad to hear it. But by life, I meant the operation, Duke."

"The documentation is safe with me," I assure him.

"I noticed. You're still alive, so it must be. But I'm talking about the other operation, my darling boy."

I feel confused for a moment. But he doesn't let me think for long.

"You promised me to take out the leader of the army we're facing, Duke," he reminds me.

Oh. That operation. That's a top priority, indeed.

"It's a matter of days, Mr. Toe."

"Very good. I knew I could trust you. Tell me, what did you learn about him?"

I roll my eyes. To him, you never know what to answer.

"His position," I tell him. "Not much else. Is it important? He'll be a corpse very soon, so who cares, right? I'm quite sure he's not in our files, anyway. He seems to be an enigma like you said."

"Hm."

I hate it when he does this. His 'hm' is the most malicious sound in the world. It reminds me of a black bag. And the docks.

"Have you seen him?" he asks. "Could you identify him, at least?"

"No, Mr. Toe. I didn't take any unnecessary risks. But I observed his daily routine, and I'm ready to neutralize him."

"So, what has our mercenary lord been doing in the last few days? Just out of mere curiosity."

"Well, nothing special."

"Nothing?" His voice is deceptively kind. "He must be the sweetest little criminal in the world, then."

"Well, he kidnapped someone."

"Whom?"

"No idea."

"Hm."

Again. That fucking 'hm.' And the image of a black bag, floating, then slowly submerging, or just lying in a corner until someone notices the smell.

"I don't know her, Mr. Toe. Um... that person. I don't know that person."

"Why would you do that, Duke? You can't know everyone, right? No need to bite my head off, dear son. I trust you to no end. I'm just trying to have a conversation here."

I don't answer. I swallow.

"Truth be told, I miss you a little," he goes on. "I know, I know, it's a top priority that you stay undercover, but I miss my best man. Am I allowed to do that, Duke?"

"Of course, Mr. Toe. If you want, I can check in briefly."

"Absolutely not. That would be foolish. The fate of the world lies in your hands, boy. Or under your skin. Whatever. Stay away from the Agency."

"Copy that, Mr. Toe."

"Also," he says, "we need to minimize any other kind of contact, too. No phone calls. No transmissions. No data requests. Can you do that?"

"You mean... no Agency backup, at all?"

"That's precisely what I'm saying, Duke. I know it's unusual, but the situation's unusual, too. I trust you more than anyone. I know you can operate on your own. You're the only one at the Agency who can do that."

I nod. He can't see it, but it doesn't matter. I feel the last strings that attached to me to the Agency being cut. It's a strange feeling. Not good and not bad, just strange.

Mr. Toe notices my inner turmoil. He always knew how to read my mind.

"See you later, dear son," he says, clearing his throat. "We'll meet again when it all ends. My money's on you."

I stare at my beeping phone. Now I'm entirely alone.

Until I go back to the pub, that is. There, I meet two pairs of keen, persistently watching eyes.

"What now, captain?" Frank asks.

I sit down and stare back at them. They don't even flinch.

I sigh, and I brief them about our first mission.

"We need to find Mint as soon as possible. It seems that my original plan isn't working. He's not coming for the formula, therefore, he's not coming for me. I wonder what he's doing instead."

They nod with a determined expression on their faces.

I lost my old team. But I have a new one.