Page 10

N orth and Dr. Green eventually called in and said that Jack Winchester was an obvious drunkard and there wasn’t much else to do with him. They asked about leaving a tracker on him.

Mr. Blackborne had to decline the idea.

Victor and Gabriel were still searching for the computer. However, with Erica’s hospital being Wil Winchester’s obvious chosen safe hideout, and the driver of the white sedan being a student as well, there were too many variables to continue. Too close to home. Also too many likely people who could have carried the computer out, and likely had already done so. That computer could be anywhere by now. Another loss.

Mr. Blackbourne had Luke come with him away from the hospital before they could ruin things any further. Wil perhaps knew Luke's face, because he had punched it, this was all likely too close, too personal, for either of them to continue.

Mr. Blackbourne kept his exchange with Mrs. Lee to himself. He didn’t want the others reacting to what she had said, maybe trying to talk her into it more. Erica’s cleverness would see right through it, and she would think Mr. Blackbourne had sent them to say something to her.

Mr. Blackbourne, however, returned to Sunnyvale Court. He parked his car in the parking lot of the church. He had Luke remain in the car, to keep an eye out for Dr. Green and North, who would be there shortly for an exchange after Victor and Gabriel had picked them up. They all needed to reorganize themselves to go to their appropriate destinations.

However, he left Luke alone for a moment, and Mr. Blackboune walked alone through the woods behind Nathan’s house. Through the back gate, he crept quietly. Out of habit, he checked just in case Mr. Griffin was around. When it was evident he wasn’t there, Mr. Blackbourne approached the rear sliding door of the house and knocked quietly on the glass.

Nathan answered, looking rather pale. “We gave it up, huh?” he said. “I heard from Luke.”

Mr. Blackbourne nodded and spoke quietly. “Yes. We’re quite finished with the motel.” He paused. “Why are you here?”

Nathan retreated further into his house, walking barefoot across the wooden floor. “Kota has me keeping watch from a different angle, and to stay here in case she came here for some reason.”

Right. Miss Sorenson. “She would come here?”

Nathan shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, maybe to yell at me.”

“What did you say, exactly?”

Nathan entered his kitchen, where he had set up a chair. There was an empty soda can beside it, and binoculars, just like Kota had done. “I was saying something you said about picking up stray dogs. I think she thought I was referencing her as a stray dog. You know, in a negative way.”

Mr. Blackbourne blinked. “I said that about someone else.”

“Right,” Nathan said. He sighed and he sat down heavily on the chair. It creaked under his frame but he settled, gazing out the window without the binoculars into the night. “Look, it’s a long story. I don’t even know why I brought it up at the time. She was coming up behind us while I was talking and she ran off before I even had any sort of chance to explain it.”

Mr. Blackbourne looked out the window, across the street to the Lee residence. “Are you okay?” he asked with some concern.

Nathan was quiet for a long moment. “I know I mess up sometimes, but this time, it feels even worse. Because I can’t even fix it. At least not until she lets me.”

“We all mess up,” Mr. Blackbourne said, trying to be reassuring. “We do since birth.” He looked at Nathan. “Do you remember learning to walk?”

Nathan sighed. “No.”

“You probably fell down a few times. Maybe dozens of times. But children don’t think they messed up and quit, and mope about it. They get up and do it again until they are successful. Because they don’t know how to quit yet.”

Nathan threw him a look, those serious blue eyes studying him skeptically. “You don’t mess up.”

“I do,” he said. “More than you know.” He suddenly moved away from the window. “I’m going to go check on Mr. Lee.”

Mr. Blackbourne crossed the street carefully, keeping to the shadows. He entered through the front door this time. Mrs. Lee was likely still at work. He wondered where Kota’s sister was briefly, but her light was off at the moment and she wasn’t in the living room. At a friend’s house perhaps?

The dim light from the outside lamppost flickered across Kota Lee's bedroom as Mr. Blackbourne observed his family leader from the top of the stairs. Kota remained at his post by the window, binoculars set aside but within easy reach, his posture suggesting both exhaustion and determination. The room itself told a story – papers scattered across the desk, surveillance equipment carefully arranged, the detritus of sleepless nights spent watching and waiting.

"We’re too compromised to continue the case," Mr. Blackbourne reported, his voice measured. "We need to back off."

Kota didn't turn from the window. "Did you find the computer?"

"No. And we won't be pursuing that lead any further." Mr. Blackbourne stepped into the room, careful to avoid the creaking floor under the carpet of the center of the room he was aware of. "I will probably contact Dr. Roberts, who will be assigning another team to handle the situation."

This drew a slight reaction – a tensing of Kota's shoulders, though his gaze remained fixed on the house across the street. "Will he be disappointed?"

"Potentially." Mr. Blackbourne moved to stand beside him, following his line of sight to the gray house where Miss Sorenson resided. He knew this now. The Sorenson household. However, he refrained from asking questions. For now. "Though I suspect we would have reached this conclusion regardless. The situation at the motel has too many variables, too many unknown players. I believe you and those who got letters were meant to make friends slowly. Naturally. We went about it the wrong way with observation tactics. He is too wary, too careful. It might even be impossible to win his trust now."

He didn’t tell him about a growing suspicion about the letters, but he wanted to talk to Dr. Roberts first about it. It was concerning enough to think of it.

Mr. Blackbourne had a thought. The girl. The thief. There was something different about her. Perhaps not their team, but another one, could work their way to Wil through her. Wil still lied to her, so there was a chance even that wouldn’t work, but there was still a chance.

But not for their group.

Kota nodded absently, then suddenly straightened. Mr. Blackbourne noted the change in his posture, the sharp intake of breath. Across the street, a slight figure had emerged from the house – Miss Sorenson, carrying what appeared to be a bundle of clothes and other items. She paused at her driveway, glancing up and down the street before moving purposefully toward the Lee residence.

Mr. Blackbourne watched as Kota's hands gripped the windowsill, his knuckles white with tension. He seemed frozen between observation and action, duty and desire.

There was something complicated going on here. But this past mission with Winchester made it more clear to Mr. Blackbourne now. They couldn’t always get familiar with people from a distance, with observation and spy equipment. Sometimes intervention was required right from the start.

And maybe that was the better way.

"You should go to her," Mr. Blackbourne said quietly.

Kota turned then, surprise evident in his expression. "Sir?"

"Whatever Mr. Griffin said, whatever damage has been done, it needs to be addressed. Repair the friendship. And figure out what you are wanting to find out directly." Mr. Blackbourne adjusted his glasses, choosing his next words carefully. "Some missions require a different kind of vigilance, Mr. Lee."

Understanding flickered across Kota's features, followed by something that might have been relief. He stepped back from the window, hesitated for just a moment, then moved toward the stairs.

Mr. Blackbourne took his place at the window, watching as Kota emerged from the house below. Miss Sorenson had nearly reached the road between Kota’s house and Nathan’s. Even from this distance, Mr. Blackbourne could read the wariness in her posture, the way she seemed on the verge of retreat, the blush, the look of fear.

But she didn't run when Kota spoke to her. And Kota, displaying the patience that had made him such an effective leader, spoke and encouraged her to stay.

As Mr. Blackbourne observed their careful dance below, he thought of his earlier encounter with Erica Lee. Her warnings echoed in his mind, her concerns about the Academy's influence over her son. It was confirmation he’d made the right decision to keep that conversation private, at least for now. The situation was delicate enough without adding maternal disapproval to the mix.

Erica had been wrong. But maybe she’d learn on her own if Miss Sorenson remained around. It wasn’t the Academy causing Kota to become neglectful and stay up late. On the contrary, it was Kota’s own decision. His choice to focus on this Sang Sorenson.

Mr. Blackbourne couldn’t blame him. Where Winchester had eluded and even attacked their team when caught snooping, Sorenson seemed wary, but intrigued, gentle and kind. The type of soul the Academy loved to help, if help was needed.

You could only ever help the willing.

The sudden embrace of Kota to Miss Sorenson surprised him and drew him out of his thoughts. Though Mr. Blackbourne couldn't hear their conversation, he could see the gradual relaxation of her shoulders.

Mr. Blackbourne stepped back from the window, allowing them their privacy. He would need to be more careful about his visits to the Lee household when Erica was present, would need to navigate her growing suspicions with exceptional care. But watching Kota and Miss Sorenson below, he couldn't help but feel that perhaps Erica's fears were misplaced.

Kota was doing what he was taught to do, yes, but he was doing what he wanted, and if Erica only knew what was going on, maybe she would understand. He’d have to give it time. Let her see it with her own eyes.

Mr. Blackbourne adjusted his coat, preparing to leave. He had a meeting with Dr. Roberts to prepare for, a case to officially close. But as he descended the stairs, he found himself hoping that whatever was beginning here – between Kota and Miss Sorenson, between this strange girl and his team – would prove worth the complications it would inevitably bring.

After all, the most important missions rarely announced themselves as such. They simply appeared one day, carrying a bundle of clothes, looking for someone to trust.