Chapter Text
As most people expected from a man in the business of recruiting and running agents, Charles can be described as stubborn.
Not the word he would use to describe himself – of course not – but nonetheless, it is an undeniable truth. He sees himself more as…determined and decisive.
Either way people describe Charles, no one can say that he is bad at his job.
‘So why was this so fucking hard?’
Charles scrubs a hand down his face, feeling the slight stubble that had somehow found its way onto his normally clean-shaven skin. Holding his chin, he ponders the report laying on his desk.
Ramos marked for elimination, due on the second. Send for the cleaner. Find Asset #1080. We will be monitoring you.
That was the gist of the letter. Charles read the entirety of the useless words sprawled on the page in order to ensure there were no hidden messages encoded within. But this letter was straightforward in its meaning, even if it took the long, miserably winding path to get the point across.
There was no doubt that Mark — or, rather, Asset #1080 — was the best cleaner his organization had ever seen. Not only did he make it to retirement, but he did so while flagrantly showing how little he cared about the opinions of those that watched him.
He would never admit it out loud, but…Charles kind of missed—
Hmm. He’s going to have to forget that thought.
Charles had tried dialing the satellite phone Mark had been issued. Nothing. He had tried contacting known agents in the field to locate Mark. Nothing. He had sent one of his underlings out to look for signs of Mark and contact him. Nothing — though he has yet to hear anything back from that particular line of investigation. Short of going into the field himself…well, Charles has reason to believe that it would be highly discouraged…
‘We will be watching you indeed,’ Charles thinks, eyes flickering to the small “hidden” cameras sporadically placed in his office. Apparently, his relationship to his former asset was deemed less professional than his higher ups would have liked. ‘Considering that anything more than complete, cold detachment is “unprofessional”, it is no wonder I’m put under such scrutiny…God forbid that I show care when Mark– er, ten-eighty is calling me while bleeding out.’
He shakes his head, clicking the pen in his hand. If he did go out and look for 1080, he would have no real idea where to start. Charles wasn’t a part of the original team that researched and cataloged potential assets and agents, so while he had no idea where Mark was originally when he was brought into consideration, Charles did know that there was a string of cover-ups and arson cases that followed 1080 through the midwest. Even though none of that deterred the agency when hiring Mark, Charles remembered eagerly pushing the asset towards the therapist that was accessible to all employees. He was never told why she suddenly quit… Charles had his suspicions.
His head snaps to his phone as it gives a sharp ring! Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Charles brings it to his ear.
“Found him.” Anthony, he recognizes. The underling he sent to track down Mark. “He wants to talk to you.”
Charles is given no time to respond before a new voice speaks up.
“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to talk to me,” sneered the man on the other side of the line. The idea of Mark leaning back in a chair, petting a cat flashed quickly through Charles’ mind. “I thought this was going too well, but you couldn’t even wait a whole ten years? Just a year and nine months to go and then I could’ve had a commemorative chip made. ‘Ten years abstinent from government contact’. That could actually be a neat alternative to a business card.”
“I apolog–”
“No, don’t bother. I don’t really care if you’re sorry or not. Well, hmm. I do want to hear the apology, and then I would like to know why this little man thinks I’m going back. Miss me so much that you couldn’t even bother showing your face?”
“I am sorry, ten-eighty–”
“Ahh, nope, you ruined it. Okay, what’s this all about then?”
“A new threat has cropped up, and I had been tasked with finding and setting you back up to come back.”
“Technically, you didn’t find me.”
“I am the one that sent out Anthony to find you. I would say that counts.”
“Ehh, I would say otherwise.”
“Who cares what you–” Charles cuts himself off, silently chastising himself. “I am asking you to come back to cleaning.”
He hears Mark mutter something that sounded suspiciously like “I never stopped” but elects to claim plausible deniability and not say anything.
Mark — ten-eighty, Charles reminds himself — takes a second to think. “Mmm. Beg.”
“What– Why, I–,” Charles stutters out.
“Beg me to come back.”
Warmth floods his face and Charles covers his face with his hand. “I, uh…”
“Well, I guess that's that then,” Mark starts, leaning away from the receiver. “Anthony, I’m afraid I’m not going with–”
Panic surging through him, Charles throws his hand up. “Okay, okay!”
He takes a frustrated breath, feeling the patient condescension radiating from Mark. “Will you come back, Mar–maaate?”
“Mate? Are you sure that’s what you were going to say?”
“Yup. Mate,” Charles confirms. “Will you come back, mate?”
“Hmm. Try again.”
“Why–okay. Will you come back?”
“Puh–” Mark leads encouragingly.
“Puh? Puh-lease?”
“Now, all together.”
Charles sighs. “Will you come back, please?” He winces at the small crack in his voice, knowing that Mark would never let this go.
He feels more than hears Mark’s low laugh at his embarrassment, face burning now. Anthony better not be listening to this.
“Yeah, I guess I could. Just because you asked so nicely.”
“Great. Thanks,” he replies flatly.
“I’ll give you back to Anthony. Say your goodbyes and all that.”
Charles rubs his eyes, glasses pushed to the side.
“We’re about two hours away,” Anthony tells him.
“You found him that close?”
“No, we have been driving for a couple of hours now, but we only got back into range a little bit ago.”
His face hurts now, with how hot it feels. He didn’t know why he expected anything different from Mark. He hangs up and lays his head on his desk.