Work Text:
Will LaCroix tried to keep a poker face as he waited in the lobby. The lighting gave him a headache inside of five minutes. He wore a neutral suit that screamed, "I Googled what government employees wear." The receptionist, obviously hired more for security than customer service, had told him someone would be down to meet him. Will cataloged his earpiece, utter lack of small talk, and the subtle bulge under his left armpit. The furniture in the lobby was a crime against ergonomics and interior design, with harsh angles, metal edges, and short seat depth, certainly a deliberate choice. He stood in the lobby feeling foolish and awkward.
A woman in her late 50s entered the room, composed, elegant, and with steel-gray hair twisted into a French roll. She wore a sleek black blazer over a dark blouse and had no visible badge. Even the security officer impersonating a receptionist sat up straighter. All conversation paused when she entered the room. Somehow she seemed more official than anyone else he had met.
She made eye contact, and spoke directly to him. "William LaCroix, I presume."
He tried to look professional, or should he be more personable? He compromised on a weak attempt to smile that looked like neither. "Yes, Ma'am."
"I'm Dr. Mira Kelly. Doctor or Chief to you. Welcome to AEGIS. You'll be in my Analysis Division, and I'll be handling your orientation personally."
Will looked confused. "Your division?"
She cocked her head. "Hmm. You're supposed to be quicker on the uptake."
Will was startled, but noticed the faint smile on her face. He connected a few more dots. "Ma'am! Thank you, I didn't expect..."
Dr. Kelly smiled faintly. "No, you didn't and shouldn't have. Most analysts are escorted by their supervisor through on-boarding. But you interest me. Come along."
The first hour was standard, HR briefings and forms like he did for every internship he'd ever had. One difference was that the briefing about procedures to follow if he lost his badge was far more detailed and included references to prison time if not done correctly. He thought that people moved with more alacrity when they realized who his escort was, but he didn't have a solid baseline to compare it to. The staff all acknowledged her deferentially in a way they didn't acknowledge others. He wasn't sure whether a reputation as the Analysis Division Chief's pet project should make him feel confident or twice as terrified.
Dr. Kelly took him on a whirlwind tour of the department, explaining how the incoming information was vetted, prioritized, and matched to analysts based on personal strengths.
"You'll rotate through the different sections during your initial six months, and then we'll sit down at your first evaluation and figure out where your real aptitude lies. After that, you'll have a 90 day training period where you're expected to dig into your area, then start producing."
They walked past an open door. "That's the break room. At first, you'll have a mentor and send out nothing without their approval. Keep in mind, however, that we value personal initiative, and if you find an area that you feel you can focus on effectively, you can accelerate specialization."
There were high security areas, individual offices with cipher locks. Mira showed him one that wasn't in use, and he thought that, high tech displays not withstanding, it looked depressingly bland.
"If you end up in one of those, eventually, you can personalize it to a degree. Just no personal electronics." She tapped the locking box at the door. "This is for cell phones."
Most analysts, she explained, worked in the bullpens designed for collaboration among a team. She showed him one where an argument about patterns in misinformation indicated common origin or not had escalated loudly. It died as Mira stepped in.
"Don't let me stop the analytical process, gentlemen. But I would like to introduce Will LaCroix. He'll be starting in your team, tomorrow."
One of the shouters, a short, pudgy middle-aged man, came over to shake Will's hand. "James Hollis. Section Supervisor. It's penance for my sins that I ride herd on these unstable lunatics. Welcome to the team. We don't normally get this impassioned."
Will had read online that asking questions during an orientation tour made a good impression, but he was too intimidated to ask trivial ones.
"Ah, Ma'am," he began as they left the bullpen behind. "Is it always like that? I mean, group analysis?"
"We prefer to have multiple eyes on any answer before we send it to the field to act on. So group analysis is the norm. But it's usually more professional, that was an unusually robust argument. Hollis does a better job of keeping them in line most of the time."
"What happens if they can't agree, then?"
"That happens more often than you might think. Intelligence analysis is an art form. Both interpretations are documented and passed up the chain of command. Then, both are given to the field with an endorsement from a supervisor indicating which one is, in their opinion, more likely. If we don't have enough evidence to falsify either theory, it's best to let the field agents be prepared for both options."
Every other question Will asked got an honest and thoughtful answer. He was mildly surprised not to get any boilerplate or deflection. But he realized quickly that this fit the organizational culture he was watching in motion. When he asked a question outside his lane, she told him so, bluntly. But she wasn't offended.
The tour ended in an office. It wasn't huge. Several landscape photographs hung on the wall. A brass wolf statuette rested on the corner of the desk. A framed photograph hid under the array of monitors. Will noticed it was Mira, a red-headed man, and two red-headed boys on a beach. Will could practically feel the sunburn. A file folder labeled "William 'Will' Étienne LaCroix" rested on the desk. She gestured to a chair across from hers.
When they were both seated, she looked him directly in the eye. "I want to make one thing completely clear, Mr. LaCroix. You are in AEGIS on your own merit. You're sharp. Your professors speak well of you. Your psych evaluations are solid. You passed every filter and test we have for prospective analysts. "
Will started to say something, then stopped.
"But that isn't enough to get my interest. What was different was that your application came with a personal recommendation from my son. He doesn't make many of those."
Will blinked. The only people in AEGIS he knew... "Nathaniel?"
Mira shook her head. "No, although he endorsed the recommendation. Mark."
"Red Wolf," he breathed. He glanced at the statuette. Pieces fell into place.
"His note was rather to the point. 'Hire this one. Because I trust him.'" she continued. She leaned back and folded her hands.
Will took a moment to reorient. "That's... That's an honor, Ma'am. I'll do my best to live up to it."
"Obviously, I followed his advice. But I wanted to see for myself what kind of young man would get that endorsement from my son."
Her smile turned gentle. "You'll find this career isn't easy. But if you're like what I suspect, it might feel like home sooner than you think."
"Thank you, Doctor Kelly. I'm... not entirely sure what to say. The 'how to act on your first day at work' websites didn't cover this."
Dr. Kelly's smile broadened. "Listen. Learn, and don't forget to listen to your instincts. Welcome to AEGIS."
She extended her hand to shake his.
By Friday, Will was starting to settle in. It still felt surreal to be working in AEGIS, with a sunburst tie tack like he was some sort of superhero himself. The cafeteria at Regional Headquarters had a vibe somewhere between college campus and a military dining facility, and the people eating were just as mixed. The analysts, HR professionals, and other support staff in button-downs. The operatives in training or utility blacks. There was just enough tension in the air to remind him that he wasn't working in a think tank.
He had just sat down when he heard a cheerful voice call out.
"Well, well, if it isn't the kid we taught to read 813 in two languages."
Will turned and a grin split his face. "Mark! Nate!"
The two of them crossed a room rapidly. Both were in training blacks. Mark's had the Red Wolf code name emblazoned above the AEGIS shield, and the word INSTRUCTOR in bold letters on front and back. Nate's had only the grey sword and sunburst of the covert operations arm.
Mark reached him first, clasped his hand, and pulled him into a hug.
Nathaniel grinned. "Heard you survived the Special Orientation."
"Sorry about that, didn't know she planned that until it was over," Mark admitted. "She pulled rank."
"My nerves haven't recovered. And my team calls me Golden Boy."
"Don't worry, she likes you," Mark cheerfully informed him.
"Which is horrifying, because her standards are ridiculous," clarified Nate.
Will shook his head. "I didn't realize she was your mother at first. You two..."
"Careful," warned Mark. "That line of thought ends in very expensive therapy."
"Fortunately, AEGIS benefits cover that." reminded Nate.
"This is how you know Nathaniel's happy. He's too emotionally constipated to show it normally. Seriously, we're really glad you're here."
Nathaniel nodded. "You saw us clearly, beyond the Agency and everything else. And you didn't freak out. You don't know how rare that is."
There was a beat while Will processed Nate's statement.
Will shrugged. "I didn't... I mean, I trusted you."
"Likewise," answered Nate, softer.
Mark nodded. "We have to grab lunch next week. I'm technically already late to my next class."
Will nodded. "Yeah. I'd like that. Bring Victor, de la Brigade mondaine!"