Fisher remains seated at their table in the far corner, but observes Garza as he tries yet another unsuccessful attempt at baiting Vale into a trap. It's depressing, really, how desperate he's getting. Garza had read about what worked the first time, and has failed to adjust that strategy to account for the fact Vale isn't half as na?ve as when she originally admitted to her crimes. Now, he's resorted to bullying her like a pissy toddler, just like that guy he kicked off the task force on the first day for doing the exact same pathetic bullying. Cleary, Garza's incredible lack of charisma has failed to win Vale over, and he's going for the next easiest option as the clock ticks down. Not that Fisher particularly cares. It's not their business, really.

  Fisher looks through their phone, and replies to a brief message from the Director. The investigation is progressing, and much more quickly than anticipated. Their target is so close, now. It's almost like she isn't trying to hide.

  No doubt in their mind; this will backfire spectacularly on everyone involved. If there's one thing Fisher knows, it's that magic is frustratingly uncontrollable. If Fisher had it their way, there wouldn't be magic. No, it's so very rare that magic helps anyone, and so very common for it to require proper neutralization. They've been in MBR long enough to know that, and seeing Counter-Magic in action proves they're not different in the slightest. No one can handle the real dangers out there, and no one actually knows what's going on behind the scenes.

  They really hope the Director knows what he's getting himself into.

  Laurel looks out of a dusty window, ignoring a crane fly that's sharing the obscured view. According to Garza, she can't clean the glass, or people may think their task force's HQ wasn't abandoned. Not like the dozen cars in the parking lot are a dead giveaway.

  A loud slam reverberates on her desk. She leaps up and instinctively clasps her hands together and above her head, wide-eyed and shuddering. Garza looks at her with mild amusement at his 'joke', and wordlessly drops a piece of paper on her desk.

  Laurel slowly lets her hands fall to her sides, and lets the hollow sting of adrenaline slowly dissipate. It's a photo, printed on standard letter paper, as is Garza's norm. It depicts a blouse, and a seal painted in red on the concrete beneath. Nothing interesting.

  She checks her thumb to see if the fresh ink stained it. "This is a ritual designed to curse someone familiar to the caster. The fact the article in the center is a pink women's shirt implies it's a woman being targeted."

  "How do you know that?" Garza asks, smirking.

  "Because I'm familiar with ritual curses."

  "Excuse me?"

  "I'm familiar with ritual curses. Hell, I cast one before."

  Garza reveals the panic button. "Really now?"

  Laurel's eyes affix to the small remote, but her voice remains steady. "Yes. I was asked to by Counter-Magic, and I did so. It's part of the reason I have a fifty year sentence."

  Garza glances around the room. "Where the hell is your supervisor?"

  "Bathroom."

  "She left you unattended?!"

  "For god's sake... Did you want me to go into the bathroom with her? I will, just say the word."

  "I don't want you two conspiring in there."

  "I'll just go help Baker, then. He's waving me over."

  Garza threateningly taps the button with his thumb, lightly enough that it doesn't activate. "You can go when I say you can go, Vale."

  Laurel winces, and makes an X with her arms in Baker's direction. Immediately, she drops to the ground, clutching her head and crying out.

  All eyes in the room turn to her curled up form, clutching her head in agony as her fingers dig into her scalp.

  "What the fuck?" Baker says, running over. "What the fuck happened? Vale, you okay?"

  She responds by getting to her knees, vomiting on the floor, and dropping inches away from the mess. Ophelia and a couple others also come over to check on the writhing Laurel. Baker quickly takes out his phone to call 911, until Garza stops him with a simple, "It was me. Used the button."

  "What? Why?"

  "She was trying to cast a spell or something. Weird arm movement."

  "She was making an 'X' to say she couldn't help me, asshole!"

  Garza stands up, and bares his teeth at Baker. "Don't you fucking talk to your superior officer like that, or I'll have you discharged!"

  Baker takes a deep breath, and looks down at Laurel with slouched shoulders. "Sir, permission to return to my post."

  "Granted. After you clean up her puke, obviously."

  He wordlessly leaves for the supply cabinet to grab a mop.

  Ophelia kneels down next to Laurel, gently touching her upper arm. "It'll be okay. Ride it out. It won't last forever, Vale. I'm here."

  "Back away from the occultist," Garza orders.

  "Respectfully, sir, I don't believe I will. This was completely unwarranted. Vale did nothing wrong, and you're punishing her because you failed to get a rise out of her."

  "You too, huh? Has everyone in this task force gone insane? We're here to stop occultists! Look at that one on the floor. She should be in prison right now, but has the luxury of helping us, and you're all complaining about her not being jerked off. Ridiculous."

  Willow comes from the bathroom, wiping her hands on her pants. "What's all the yelling about? I heard a- LAUREL!"

  Willow dashes over, and sits down next to her friend, fumbling through her pockets for both the migraine medication she keeps on hand and a small bottle of water.

  "Don't," Garza warns, "or I'll have to do it again."

  Willow restrains herself. No, don't punch him. That won't fix anything. She puts the medication away, instead carefully helping Laurel up and guiding her to the bathroom.

  Everyone in the building stares at Garza. He looks away, and back to his computer. "I know I'm handsome, but stop oogling me. Get back to work," he orders.

  Slowly, everyone complies.

  Lt. Colonel Krastev types in the password to his video call, and after a short delay, he's connected with the man he wants to see.

  A lawyer.

  "Lt. Colonel!" The military lawyer says, wearing a white t-shirt, dog tags, and a smile. "Good to hear from you. I was worried you changed your mind."

  Krastev adjusts his glasses. "No, not likely. You've reviewed the offer, Sawyer?"

  "Yup. You're gonna love this shit. Even though beasties aren't legally citizens, they still have some rights. As such, their treatment is a human rights violation. Yes, as stupid as this sounds, the way beasties are treated falls under human rights. I'm absolutely willing to pursue this... Off the record, I have a vested interest here. I served with a beastie out in the desert. Twice the man I am, three times for anyone else in our squad. He got a leg blown off, military didn't wanna pay for a beastie's medical bills, poor bastard was hung out to dry."

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Faintly, Krastev hears a gruff "stop talking about me" in the background, followed by Sawyer blowing a kiss.

  Krastev leans back in his chair, running a hand through thinning hair. Amato was correct, as usual. Despite the eccentricity, this was the right man for the job. "I was beginning to worry."

  "One caveat," Sawyer adds. "The fact that this Chad Vale guy was subject to the same treatment actually strengthens the hell out of our case. Think he'd testify?"

  "She would, without a doubt. Goes by Laurel, or just Vale."

  "Got it, making a note of that... so what's her situation? Why's she out of prison right now?"

  "Long story, think of it as parole mixed with a work release."

  Sawyer nods, though through the dodgy video it isn't picked up. "Okay, I'm gonna talk with Ximena next. Stay safe out there. Sawyer out."

  "Come on, Laurel, we're almost there..."

  Willow gently guides Laurel to the elevator in their apartment building. The medication helped, but for whatever reason this migraine hit Laurel especially hard.

  "God, I fucking hate Garza." Laurel groans.

  "I know. I do too."

  Willow hits the elevator button, letting it slowly climb up the building. When it reaches their floor, the two step out, and Willow lets Laurel lie down in her room.

  Fucking Garza. He's such a little piece of shit... Willow's out of the loop on the status of the task force, but Laurel's souring mood lately implies they're getting close. What was expected to take two months is barely taking one. Laurel must have surpassed expectations.

  She starts on dinner, deep in thought. Will there still be work for Laurel to do? If not...

  Willow opens the freezer, and takes out a frozen pizza. She made up her mind a while ago. Laurel does not deserve to be in prison for forty-eight more years. She fucked up, no doubt about it, but it wasn't with bad intentions. It never really harmed anyone, and it actually helped a lot of people. Two years is plenty. Laurel still wakes up and instinctively puts her hands on the wall, and still flinches at hearing clicking sounds. That's proof enough for her.

  The implant in Laurel's neck can probably be disabled. When she brought Laurel into a hug earlier, she felt the back of her neck. The implant was right beneath the skin, off to the side of her spine. It could absolutely be removed, one way or another. After that, she's banking on the fact that Laurel can evade capture.

  All she'd have to do is look the other way, maybe lie about being enthralled.

  Willow knows it's crazy: even considering something like that for an ex-occultist who she met under a month ago, but she's never been the kind of person who could tolerate injustice. At least, not when she could do something about it.

  It has been three and a half weeks since Laurel's release, and Garza has gathered everyone for a full team meeting before the day officially starts. He clears his throat.

  "It's official. We've confirmed that the target has been located. For those of you unaware until now, which is most of you, there was an end goal to all this. We're after an ancient occultist who, through unknown means, had become immortal. She's been a menace to this country off and on since its inception, and now, we're finally on her tail. Each and every one of you have played a key role in this endeavor. If all goes well, she'll be apprehended in the next week."

  As everyone disperses, Garza waves Laurel over, and briefly looks her over. "You've done a good job, Vale."

  "Thank you, sir," she mumbles.

  Garza flashes a smile. "Get back to it."

  Laurel sees Baker flagging her over, and quietly shuffles to him. "Here."

  "Great, there's this... Laurel, why do you look so down? We've almost finished."

  "Because it's almost over. That's why."

  Baker pats her on the back. "Come on, I'm sure all your friends here will stay in touch, especially Sergeant Valley."

  "No, it... I'm not allowed outside communication in Magimax."

  Baker blinks twice, eyes looking away for a second before going back to her her. "...what?"

  She stares at the floor. "It isn't like I'm going free after this. If they have more work, I'll do that, but I'm going back to prison if they don't need me."

  "That's bullshit, you've played along. How much longer is your sentence, again?"

  "Forty-eight years."

  Baker goes quiet, turning back to his computer.

  Laurel eases herself into a chair, looking at the computer screen in front of her. "Just show me what you need, okay? I still have a few days left."

  The days flash past Laurel like a lightning strike, too fast for her to process. What seemed like endless weeks of living with the best friend she's ever had blur into looking somberly at a projected video feed on the wall of the task force HQ. Everyone is standing, watching as the event progresses.

  A Counter-Magic strike team is advancing forward to a small cottage in the middle of nowhere, stopping every so often to ask Laurel what something is.

  Her heart twitches at every question. She desperately wants to lie, to throw them off track, anything... but she can't. The geas forbids it.

  They come across a symbol Laurel only faintly understands. Something about long-term life transference, a curse that could absolutely get her arrested for knowing about.

  Damn the Director. This was his plan from the start. She can't pretend she doesn't know, since that would be directly sabotaging Counter-Magic's operations. This is, however, "fucking up" enough that the Director's obligation to keep her out of Magimax is nullified.

  As expected, she's been used. It's almost a relief, in that she doesn't have to worry about when the hammer will drop.

  "It's a life transference curse. It's inert, but don't touch."

  "Roger that. Moving in," their leader's voice says.

  Laurel watches, silently hoping they find the cottage empty, that this was all a wild goose chase.

  The camera bounces slightly as the cottage door cracks open, and reveals a young woman. She looks around twenty-five, and is passively munching on a piece of bread while sitting at a wooden table.

  "Oh. This is happening now," she says as though she's talking about the weather, tossing the bread aside and surrendering herself.

  The Counter-Magic team descends like vultures, picking away at her every pocket and possible place for hidden weapons. Once satisfied, they gag her, bind her hands and feet, and have a magician cast an anti-magic spell on her.

  "Mission accomplished," the agent confirms.

  Garza lets out a few cheers, but only gets a few half-hearted claps from the rest of the team. All eyes fall to Laurel, who quietly holds her face in her hands.

  The only real smile comes from Garza. "Everyone, you're dismissed. Vale, stay here for a bit. We need to hammer out some details..."

  Garza has a arranged for Laurel and Willow to have a meeting tomorrow at the Counter-Magic military base. Willow tries to get Laurel's mood up in the car, saying how this isn't what she thinks it is, that this is clearly just for reassigning her... but they both know it's hollow.

  All Willow can do is let Laurel cry into her shoulder, holding her tightly and stroking her hair.

  There's a trio of people waiting for the Willow and Laurel at their meeting: California's MBR Director, Stolatz, and someone neither of them recognize. The Director waves the two over, looking at them both with a smile. "There you are. How are you, Vale? Have you been eating enough?"

  Laurel quietly mumbles something, looking away from the man in front of her, finger busily picking at the table's splintering wood.

  "Good, good. Well, now that you're both here, let's cut to the chase. The man next to Stolatz is Judge Hudson Aberdeen. He's just here to observe."

  The judge smiles, but his eyes are cold.

  A deathly silence comes over the room, as the Director's mouth starts to turn downward. "The terms of our arrangement, Laurel, were that you would be released on an ongoing basis in exchange for assisting Counter-Magic. However, some troubling news arose during the final event. You apparently have knowledge of something highly illegal that was never disclosed previously. As such, we're not confident enough to keep you employed, and we're seeking to return you to Magimax. Laurel, do you consent to ending the arrangement?"

  Laurel shakes her head. "No."

  The Director sighs. "If you do, then we could let you out again if we have need of you. I'll ask again. Do you consent to ending the arrangement?"

  "I do not."

  "Shame. Very well, though. We'll meet again tomorrow, within the courthouse located on this base. Until then, Laurel, we're going to keep you in a holding cell on site. Sergeant Valley, you're dismissed from your position as Laurel's guardian. See your commanding officer for your next steps."

  Willow is silent. This... isn't right. Why are they being separated so quickly? Why is Laurel being held captive?

  Laurel silently nods, and a pair of soldiers come and escort Laurel away.

  Willow looks at the three people remaining, amicably chatting about potentially getting drinks tonight. Without a word, she leaves as well, beelining for her car. She has phone calls to make, for whatever little good they'll do.

  Laurel is led to an iron holding cell, and is placed inside, the door shutting behind her. It's identical to the cells at Magimax, down to the foam bed. She could end it all right now, but... she wants to see Willow again. One last time.

  Laurel is marched to the courthouse, alone. She stands before the judge alone. The judge doesn't even bother with hearing what the Director has to say, simply siding in his favor with the bang of a gavel and shooing them along.

  It's a long ride by armored transport to Magimax, where Laurel is walked through the front door, silent.

  "Laurel!" a voice calls out.

  Laurel looks up, and immediately starts crying, and smiles through the tears.

  The guards tell Willow to step away, but she ignores them. "Laurel, promise me you won't give up, okay? Just promise me that. Please."

  Laurel watches as the door to the cells draws nearer, past the lobby where Willow is allowed. "...if you walked into my shop, Willow, I'd have asked you to run it with me." Laurel's broken smile vanishes through the door.

  "Laurel, I-"

  Willow is cut off by a guard more aggressively threatening for her to stay back, as the door closes behind Laurel.

  Willow balls her fists, and storms out of the prison. This can't end here.

  But... fuck, what can she even do?