11-15-2023, 01:00 AM
Days passed and Jensen didn’t see Kaleb at all. When he finally worked the nerve to inquire why, he was informed that the Agent had been reassigned. They wouldn’t tell Jensen where nor how long he would be gone, and no amount of internet searching revealed anything of Kaleb’s fate. The guilt tore him up.
A great deal of time had lapsed since Jensen last took to his knees. Not since those last prayers with the Carpenters, and while he was sincere in his desire for Cayli’s safety, hope was never quite restored and he felt like a fraud. Yet despite the trepidation, Jensen went through the motions one night. Not for himself, but for Kaleb, and asked that the agent be spared hardship and eventually find the peace he deserved. That was all, though, and Jensen was quite numb afterward.
He was introduced to a new agent, and Jensen intended to behave according to the rules this time, but he was informed there were no missions that night nor for the next several after that.
Jensen was also allowed to go home, but as he locked the door to Doulou’s loft, he could practically feel Custody eyes watching him. A sigh was the extent of action they would witness, and Jensen spent the night alone... Again.
The next morning he realized he was out of coffee, and while an order could be delivered relatively easy, he looked around the empty loft and saw nothing but solitude. He briefly wondered if Doulou was well since the man hadn’t sent a message in a long time, and with a furrow of his brow, Jensen opted to go out instead. Surely nobody cared if he went to a coffee shop.
Several years in Moscow and he was still not quite accustomed to their winters, and the leaves indicated it was only autumn even if the wind said it was promising a deep freeze. He wore a denim jacket over a sweater as a result. A scarf was wrapped around his neck and gloves wrapped his hands though they were plunged deep into his pockets. He wore slacks and nice shoes also, but the wind tousled his attempts to style his hair as soon as he stepped outside. There was a shop nearby that he used to visit, though that hadn’t visited since before he went to America with Jay and Natalie.
He didn’t recognize any of the workers, and a quick scan of the patrons was just as unrecognizable. He ordered his drink black with cream in a mug along with a muffin, and sat near one of the windows to watch people walk. The room was comfortable, though not full to the brim, and yet, he still felt alone.
A great deal of time had lapsed since Jensen last took to his knees. Not since those last prayers with the Carpenters, and while he was sincere in his desire for Cayli’s safety, hope was never quite restored and he felt like a fraud. Yet despite the trepidation, Jensen went through the motions one night. Not for himself, but for Kaleb, and asked that the agent be spared hardship and eventually find the peace he deserved. That was all, though, and Jensen was quite numb afterward.
He was introduced to a new agent, and Jensen intended to behave according to the rules this time, but he was informed there were no missions that night nor for the next several after that.
Jensen was also allowed to go home, but as he locked the door to Doulou’s loft, he could practically feel Custody eyes watching him. A sigh was the extent of action they would witness, and Jensen spent the night alone... Again.
The next morning he realized he was out of coffee, and while an order could be delivered relatively easy, he looked around the empty loft and saw nothing but solitude. He briefly wondered if Doulou was well since the man hadn’t sent a message in a long time, and with a furrow of his brow, Jensen opted to go out instead. Surely nobody cared if he went to a coffee shop.
Several years in Moscow and he was still not quite accustomed to their winters, and the leaves indicated it was only autumn even if the wind said it was promising a deep freeze. He wore a denim jacket over a sweater as a result. A scarf was wrapped around his neck and gloves wrapped his hands though they were plunged deep into his pockets. He wore slacks and nice shoes also, but the wind tousled his attempts to style his hair as soon as he stepped outside. There was a shop nearby that he used to visit, though that hadn’t visited since before he went to America with Jay and Natalie.
He didn’t recognize any of the workers, and a quick scan of the patrons was just as unrecognizable. He ordered his drink black with cream in a mug along with a muffin, and sat near one of the windows to watch people walk. The room was comfortable, though not full to the brim, and yet, he still felt alone.