Previous Post The wind swept harshly across the deck of the Helicarrier as the transport ship set down. "Agent 311!" the watch commander bellowed over engine whine as soon as the doors opened onto the flightdeck. "You're ordered to report to the Director's office immediately!" "What? Already? I haven't seen a real bed--even a government issue one-- in a week. Is this about the Badripoor mission?" the agent in question complained, his youthful brow furrowed in concern. "Because I really don't think that I can be blamed for what happened to the special ordinance. That flying Ferrari was really overdue for a tune-up, and to be fair, the palace windows were already stressed from the Sea Monkey attack..." "I really don't care, agent" the watch commander grunted, turning his attention to his clipboard. "Tell it to the Director." He added an under-his-breath aside that carried just far enough, "I'm sure she'll find a bed for you. Probably eager to debrief you personally." The other disembarking agents snorted in mirth at the jibe as Agent 311 gathered up his duffel bag without making any eye contact. "Right" he sighed as he trudged off the flight deck. "Duty calls." The Director of SPUD briefly glanced up as the doors to her office slid open. "Good. You're here" she noted, barely shifting attention from the intelligence report open on her desk. "How did things go in the Savage Park?" He shrugged. "Briello received the microtab shipment from Badripoor all right" the agent noted, dropping his duffel bag in a chair by the door. Like most government offices, this one was Spartanly furnished, although what furniture there was happened to be fairly stylish. Unlike most, however, one entire side wall was a reinforced glass window showing a view of the clouds from above and out to the slightly curved line of the horizon miles in the distance. "He has quite the operation going down there" he noted casually, turning from the impressive view. "417 personnel permanently stationed there, sizable lab space, shipping docks, submarine pens, a pretty damn impressive jamming array... Did I mention that he built an ice palace to house all this stuff? I mean literally... It's like Cinderella's castle from Disneyland, only... icey." "They always build an ice palace" she noted with disinterest, flipping pages on the viewscreen tablet she held. "It's what would-be world conquerors do first when they set up a base at the poles." The agent nodded, waiting for an invitation to sit. None was immediately forthcoming. "Well, yeah but... maybe not all quite so girly. Where do they find the contractors?" "Reykjavik has a few firms that specialize in ice construction. As does the United Arab Emirates, surprisingly." She closed the file she was reading on her view tablet and leaned back in her chair to take the first good look at him since he arrived. "You look tired" she noted blandly. "It's a long flight from McMurdo station" he responded dryly. "At least it is by transport carrier to Argentina and commercial flight to Parodiopolis International. Thanks for letting me catch the ground shuttle up from the home office there, though." "You could have always flown back directly in my Ferrari" the Director suggested mildly. "Um, about that..." "It's vintage, you know" Contessa Natalia Katarina Romanza added, pushing back from her desk. "A gift from former Director Drury himself when he stepped down from the post. It dates back to the cold war. Or, at least, it did." Agent 311 gulped. "I'm sure... I mean, a good Auto Body shop could buff those dents right out... Honest. The damage couldn't have been too bad... the Badripoor fire brigade turned the hoses on it pretty quickly..." "Shut up, agent" she advised. She shook her head, circling the desk. "I swear, I don't know why I keep giving you the choice assignments..." The Agent kept his opinion of how "choice" they were to himself. "The current rumor on that is that I'm your boy-toy" he noted with displeasure instead. Director Romanza nodded and smiled. "So I've heard. That will work to explain your sudden rise up the ranks as well as anything. Blaming it on strings pulled by your father would only have gone so far." She ran a hand along his jawline and shrugged. "As far as rumors go, it's serviceable... although I could do better." He paused, his brow furrowed. "Wait... a better cover rumor, or..." She patted him on the rump as she passed, turning to the large window along the office wall. "Don't let the gossip get to you... make it work for you instead" she advised, staring out at the view off towards the setting sun. "Lord knows you'll be paying for the reputation anyway, may as well get some value out of it. I had to deal with much the same sort of rumors at your age... and worse." The agent looked over her lithe form from behind as she continued to gaze out into the darkening sky. Even approaching 50, there was no doubt that she would still elicit the stares and comments of a majority of the carrier's crew... at least, if they weren't so cowed by her rank and the aura of authority she generated. "Right" he nodded. "So... you have another of those "choice" assignments for me?" She looked at him with a slightly raised eyebrow, obviously catching the inflection on choice. "Oh yes... I believe I have just the assignment to reward your efforts." Griffin: Agent of SPUD winced inwardly at the phrasing as he straightened up to give a crisp salute. He made a mental note to find a good body shop that specialized in classic cars before it killed him. "Your name is Garrick" he repeated loudly over the noise of the engines. "Yes" she answered flatly, strapped into the jumpseat of the N-190 cargo plane. She balanced an open satchel on her lap as she pawed through a variety of folders within. "Gina Garrick." "Special Agent Garrick will do just fine" she answered pointedly. "The Department of the Interior was assured by your Director herself that SPUD's role in this investigation would be purely from a support standpoint..." "The daughter of former Vice President Herbert Peter Garrick?" Griffin continued, oblivious to the bouncing of the aircraft that nearly caused his seatmate to scatter her reading material all over the cabin. "Furthermore" she continued harshly, clutching the contents of her bag to her conservatively attired lap. "We were assured that the SPUD field agent assigned would be professional and discrete, and answer fully to the ranking Interior agent on scene." She looked over the rim of her wireframe glasses at him. "That would be me." "Okay, sure..." the SPUD agent conceded. "That's me... Mr. Professional and all. It's just... I never even knew Garrick had a daughter..." Griffin noted absently. "When did that happen?" "Around the time I was born" she growled, stuffing her papers back into her bag and tugging the straps closed on it. "Look, I've heard about you, and read your file to boot... are we going to have a problem?" He blinked. "A problem? No... why?" "I know that, politically, our fathers didn't exactly see eye to eye. As far as I'm concerned, that was their business. This matter we're investigating is my business, and I don't need some junior agent with a familial score to settle nipping at my heals throughout it." She frowned, refastening the clip holding her frizzy red hair back away from her face. "I should have known that SPUD wouldn't take this investigation seriously enough to assign a real agent." "Yeah, no offense taken" he noted with an eye roll as he crossed his legs and opened a copy of the Parodiopolis Daily Trombone on his datapad. "I assure you, the Director personally stressed to me how seriously she takes this matter." She looked him up and down. "What?" he asked, turning from the sports section. "This is the only civilian shirt I had with me" he noted, nodding to the multi-colored palm-tree pattern. "My luggage went up in smoke in Badripoor, and on return there wasn't a lot to choose from in the Bolivar Airfield giftshop in Argentina. Some of us barely had time to shower before being herded off on our next assignment. What's your excuse?" She opened her mouth to make a sharp retort, but then abandoned the attack. "I was pulled out of a budget meeting on the Hill" she admitted, tugging on the strap of her high heeled shoe and straightening her skirt, all of which looked greatly out of place inside the military cargo plane's interior. "But I've been pressing the Secretary to open an investigation for weeks now, and I'm fully prepared to carry out my duties." "Yes, naturally... Me too. And it's always a thrill to work with... Um... You did say the Department of the Interior, right?" "Yes." "Seriously?" he pressed. "Yes" she repeated tightly. "So that makes you... What, National Park Service? Fish and Game? Indian Affairs..?" "Bureau of Land Management" she replied. "Look, did you even read..." "There are special agents of the Bureau of Land Management?" "Acting special agents, yes..." Griffin dropped his paper to his lap. "I answer to an acting special agent of the Bureau of Land Management." "Did you even read the mission briefing?" she fumed. "Of course" he replied. "Kind of. I'm sure I skimmed it at some point... Did I mention it was a real rush to make this flight?" "Re-Read it now" she snarled. "We'll be on the ground in Kansas within the hour." "Look, I don't need to... Wait. Kansas?" he asked. "I've been sent to Kansas?" She glared at him. "Skimming it again couldn't hurt..." he noted hastily, digging into the duffel bag under his seat. "Since when has Kansas had a National Forest?" Griffin asked, flipping pages in the file as they drove West in the night from Garden City. The rental car's electric motor hummed with a high pitch as they made their way across the lonely moonlit plains. Acting Special Agent Garrick sighed from behind the wheel. "Since either 1905, or three weeks ago, depending on what you mean." She took a sip of the coffee that she had bought from a drive-through about 40 miles back. "Roosevelt established it as an experiment to see which type of trees adapted best to a southwest climate. Draught, prarie fires and the like pretty much guaranteed that none of them did. The strongest survivors were pine trees that never grew more than a few feet tall. President Wilson officially abolished the forest effort in 1915." "But now it's... back?" "Farmers along the border between Kansas and Colorado reported finding saplings sprouting up out of fields that had been plowed just days prior... Some already 18 inches in height." Griffin nodded. "Yeah, I read that" he noted. "...and?" "And what?" "...and there's reason to believe that this is part of some rogue environmental group's efforts to reforest the continent?" he suggested. "A Native American Shaman's opening gambit to use forest spirits to overthrow the white man's government? A dastardly conspiracy between Dr. Moo and IKEA to corner the market on pressboard furniture with their own mutant sustainable tree farms?" "Dr. who? Look, we don't know why the trees are growing back. That's what we're investigating. The rate and expanse of growth suggests the possibility of a paranormal source, certainly, but it's a long way from confirmed." Griffin swallowed. "Wait... how long of a way? Isn't this kind of thing OPS jurisdiction? Surely there are OPS agents who manage to piss off their director..." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "I requested an OPS team but apparently SPUD owed OPS a favor" she replied, the edges of her lips turned down. "Should the investigation reach the conclusion of paranormal involvement, then a full OPS team would be called in and take over. You're here because the Department of the Interior requested someone familiar with the paranormal for this preliminary investigation as a precautionary measure only..." All sorts of alarms were going off inside his head now. "And our preliminary investigation could take..?" "We're budgeted for 2 months, with a reserve for longer if the case merits." "Months?!" Griffin barked. "I mean, it was a nice flying car, but I'm banished to prairie hell to watch the trees grow for months because of it?" "This isn't banishment!" Agent Garrack bit back, turning to glare at him. "I've been pushing for a field opportunity like this for ages, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let some rookie SPUD hotshot ruin my big chance to..." The airbags deployed explosively in their faces as the car slammed to a violent halt. A second jolt went through them as the energy of the car rebounded, dropping the rear tires back to the pavement with a crunch. The horn blared for nearly 10 seconds before dying off pitifully. Griffin let out a groan and clutched his head. Thanks to his training, he was the first to recover from the shock, regaining his wits to assess the situation through the surge of adrenaline and the ringing in his ears. Agent Garrick was dazed and suffering abrasions where her face had connected with the airbag. Her glasses were missing, and she'd likely be sporting quite the shiner on her left eye within the hour as well, but neither of them seemed to have any serious injuries. Gingerly, they managed to open their doors and exit the vehicle. The front of the rental car was wrapped firmly around the base of a huge pine tree, which had apparently sprouted straight out of the pavement of the road to reach up into the dark night sky. With a thunk, the sedan's front left panel fell off of the wheel well to rock gently on the asphalt and broken glass below. "When we make the report on this..." Griffin said, starring up into the softly swaying branches of the tree, it's branches ominously black against the starlit sky, "I really want it noted that you were driving this one." to be continued... Footnotes: Griffin (no last name) is one of Visionary's twin children from current continuity. He and his sister Maggie were spirited away by the fairy drug kingpin Camellia Le Fey at birth, and spent 11 years in the Mythlands before being rescued by their parents and returned to the Parodyverse (where mere months had passed since their birth). As a result of this plot, Griffin was left with the ability to become undetectable, both invisible and intangible. He also possesses a photographic memory. All are traits which most likely encouraged spy agency SPUD to recruit him. Contessa Natalia Katarina Romanza was a former love of Legionnaire Trickshot, and an agent for the spy agency SPUD. She first ran across Griffin in current continuity when he helped her escape from Nazi Velociraptors. In the intervening years, she has apparently made Griffin into her protegee, while climbing up the ranks to replace Dan Drury as director of SPUD. Gina Garrick is apparently the daughter of current Presidential Advisor (and noted pain-in-the-Legion's-ass) Herbert P. Garrick. This is her first appearance, though her father and Visionary have clashed on numerous occasions.

Future stories like this have potential to be a lot of fun, and this was no exception. Griffin certainly reminded me of his father, and I certainly wasn't expecting his partner in this buddy cop comedy to be Garrick's daughter. Both of the "kids" have quite the legacy to live up to.

Good choice for the Director of SPUD as well. It was fun to see the Contessa in this position of great authority.

Looking forward to the next part! I certainly hope Maggie makes an appearance at some point too!

~Hat~