LLZ-3: Reassignment

Five days have passed since Parma’s drunken shenanigans. She slashed, scratched, and punched everyone nearby. She was brought in unwillingly with chains and bondages. Parma is a dangerous woman, even when drunk and unsound.

She is under the care of Coppola, her superior since she joined The Agency. She was bathed, clothed, and took captive until she regained her previous self. A mana powered bracelet binds her hand in place. A makeshift IV bag dangles from a metal pole, it’s filled with mana, connected to the bracelet.

Anyone who had the pleasure to handle her always give a look of pity. To protect her identity, no one knows of her exact situation, but Agent Coppola always gave everyone a brief beforehand. Dead friend, alcoholic consumption tendencies, low motoric and cognitive function, and suffering from malnutrition.

By yesterday morning, Parma’s condition is still far from perfect, but there’s a clear improvement in her sign of hostility. She willingly proceeded with whatever Tina was telling her to do; her ever gentle personal nurse on The Agency’s payroll. Tina took care all of Parma’s need. From nutrition, physiology, mental health, and even her bodily functions.

One evening, Agent Coppola watched over her eating porridge through a one way wall. He is in a darker room than the one Parma is in, as to not reveal his presence. Tina was watching along beside him. Her hand is occupied with a pen and paper. She took notes of every Parma’s behaviors and changes.

“Watch out, you’re about to spend our department’s supply of paper Tina.” Said Coppola in jest.

“Without my notes, she would still be in delirium Coppola. But as progress shown, we should expect an interview with her by the end of next week.”

Agent Coppola twirl and play with his mustache, still wearing an overcoat even inside. Sane people within his ranks already knew that he chooses to wear it as a fashion statement.

“She is innocent. Just too protective of her own sisters.” Tina said it under her breath, but Coppola can clearly hear it. The way to know for sure though, is through an interview.

Two weeks have passed since Parma’s break down. She had finished a questionnaire, designed to test her cognitive function. As an effort to reintegrate her into society, Tina decided to bring Parma to a nearby park. It is located inside one of the complexes owned by The Agency.

The morning was cold and dry. Chirps of birds, people jogging, and owners walking with their pets. This is the perfect place for a lighthearted conversation.

Tina is hides and watches Parma from the bushes. It is her decision to not interfere with Parma too much. Her patient is already playing with a phone. Playing videos about the news of last two weeks. Although her mind have been made clear, Parma’s body still need some time to wake up.

Coppola is sitting beside her, on the other side of the bench. There’s at least an arm’s length away between them, as per Tina’s advice. He has an electric gun hidden inside his overcoat, only for his own safety.

“How are you feeling, Parma?”

“Don’t patronize me, Agent.” Parma replied with a flat tone, as if he is not even there. Her thumb moves reflexively, scrolling through uninet for news about the incident. Coppola took notice after stealing a glance of her screen.

“You are no ordinary woman, Parma. We need to get five of our best agents, a paper spray, sahara-grade-giant-animal-taser, 20cc of paraflorane, and a bind strong enough to hold buildings together. You have no idea how expensive the last one is.”

She lets out a long sigh. The breath that came out of her mouth condenses by the cold air. She slumped back to the bench backrest. The legal system surely will punish her now that she had done bad things.

“Paraflorane? Steve The Jungleguy used it to sedate large crocs, right?” Parma realized she is now more dangerous than the most dangerous animal known to men.

“Exactly, should’ve started with that instead. Lesson learned, no doubt. But even then, the drug kicked in late. So we need to deal with some of your punches until you went to sleep.” Coppola grins as he told his side of the story.

“It’s my fault, truly. I got no memory of it. Hurting our boys, you know, that’s like — way above my pay grade.”

Agent Coppola broke the ice by handing her a cigarette. She shook her head politely. Hypocrite, for someone that’s already abusing substance to get away from their issues.

With a flick of a mana-coated finger, Coppola lights his cigarette up. He puffed a smoke, then continues the conversation. “Relax, they won’t put the law on you. I briefed everyone about your predicament.”

She plays around with the power bracelet. It’s now inactive, but there is now an unsettling but nostalgic feeling whenever she touches it. Parma droops her head, lamenting over her losing self-control. Without the bracelet, she could have hurt more people. It was a highly unprofessional conduct, it’s a miracle she isn’t getting jail time.

Coppola, used his expert level facial recognition, took notice of her behavior. He scoot closer, gently but still covers a good distance. They are now just a fist apart.

“We need to make an arrangement, Parma. The Agency put you under a microscope since weeks ago, you have to lay low. Go take a vacation. I can even make it a doctor’s order, if you want.”

Parma turn her head with a face of disappointment. She took offense in someone taking pity on her, especially her own boss. “I don’t deserve a vacation.”

“You have been unreliable Parma. I’m not saying you’re getting weaker, quite the opposite. You hospitalized five of my best men, while drunk and mourning. I’m afraid—”

“They are still in the hospital?!”

“Yes, it was that bad. Doctors ordered us to give them two more months of recovery.”

Coppola brought out a single folder with Parma’s name on it from the pockets inside his overcoat. He puts on a reading glasses and proceeds to read an excerpt. It’s Parma’s profile documents, independently maintained by The Agency.

“Let us see here. You are currently twenty eight years old, single woman. No history of diseases or injuries so far. Lived near Calculus, twenty minutes drive from here, with traffic of course. Graduated from Corona Public Young School at the age of fifteen years old, with honors. Then straight to working mode by undergoing mentorship as a Field Agent. Just one month after graduation.”

“You read my public LinkMe profile, congrats.”

“Oh I left out the most important part. You have two years worth of vacation not being used yet. Not including what our government gave annually. So in summary, you are a crazy workaholic working after hours without rest. Recipe for disasters.” Parma threw her gaze away from him.

“Look Parmadita. You have been doing this since fifteen. I know it’s called mentorship, but that doesn’t mean you need to work without breaks. Your skills and performance haven’t deteriorate since then, but having a life outside all this is also as important.”

After a brief pause, Parma shows her curiosity. “What were you doing when you were fifteen?”

“Eating boogers, going home full of mud after a rainy day, and playing online games. Like everyone else.” He is telling the truth, and not afraid to do it.

“We are on the verge of war, Cee.” Her eyebrows met in the middle. She grip the bench handle so hard it started to twist.

“I know we are. You knew how close we are to full scale better than any other. You’ve been up-front. They are brave enough to inch away into our territory and we need to blow their shit up to send a message.”

“Then give me more mission, Cee! The war ain’t gonna stop itself! Me doing nothing will make that worse. I’ve spent two weeks already not fighting, you guys are lucky we are not eating rations by now!”

Coppola took a deep breath and threw his folder unto her lap. A sign of defeat, he is not going to change her mind anytime soon. But a good agent always have a backup plan. This is his last resort though, something he had prepared, but reluctant to use. A thumb drive, little, but filled with top secret information. He raised it up to her face until she can see the intricate pattern of circuitry on it.

“This is yours. The password is one we use for your payroll. It is a month long mission on Roze Island. All of the detes in there, brief in a week.”

“Roze Island?”

“You want an assignment, fine. I just gave you one. But that’s the only one I approved for you. No turning back now, it’s an order.”

“Thank you, Cee. Also one more thing.”

“What?”

“Can you tell Tina to get out of the bush already?”

Tina stands up from her concealed position. She is still wearing an headphone that’s attached to a microphone near the bench. Her face blushes a bit while doing a little wave with her right hand. Next stop for both Parma and Lukman, Roze Island.