The Fox and The Hunter

Jon felt like a creep watching through a woman’s window, but this woman was either dangerous or in danger, so he let himself drop the manners. He set up a video camera on the window, with subtlety so nobody would get the wrong idea. This wasn't his first time hiding something trained on another person.

He took a breath, and called his sister.

“We’re not accepting any more cases for the moment, I apologize, but I do have—”

“Information on the woman I asked you to find information on?” Jon asked.

“Not much more than what I already gave you,” Val answered, “Viktorya Renfield: librarian. I gave you her address. Why did you want to stalk her?”

“I’m not—” The video camera came into focus in his vision, “Work reasons.”

“Right…”

“What does that mean?”

“It mean you don’t really have a reason to stalk a woman for work, and even if you did, Uncle Gareth wouldn’t let you—unless he doesn’t know.”

Jon didn’t reply.

“Oh my god, Gareth doesn’t know. Thanks for the blackmail.”

“Gareth won’t care.”

“Oh, but you do,” she insisted, “You want to be a perfect goody two-shoes for perfect Uncle Gareth. It’s kind of adorable, actually.”

“If you have nothing else...” Jon threatened.

“Her dad’s still alive. He’s at a caring facility specifically for mages who’ve gone off the deep end. It’s called Evergreen”

That must be who her client threatened.

“How many of those are there around?”

“Around Viktorya’s address, or like in existence?”

“Let’s go with existence.”

“Four that I could find: One in Korea, one in the U.K., one in Sicily, and one in a small town, U.S.A.”

There went that bribe. He would have offered to move the father to a different facility, but he doubted Viktorya would be willing to move that far.

“Okay, anything else?”

“She wrote a book apparently: Heroes of the Argo. I couldn’t find a description or anything, but it exists.”

“Could you find the book itself?” Jon asked.

“Nope, small run, probably not very good. Don’t let Gareth know I helped you when he finds out.”

He fell onto the bed for a moment.

“I know there’s something more here.”

And Viktorya—Ms. Renfield, it wasn’t as if he actually knew her—Ms. Renfield wasn’t safe.

“I’m not convinced,” Val said, “What did she do to enrapture you like this anyways?”

He lifted himself up enough to watch Viktorya open the curtains of her window. The black nightgown she wore probably left less to the imagination up close. She waved, looked around, then flipped the bird, which made him chuckle.

“What are you laughing at?” Val asked.

“You,” Jon answered, “Thinking you can get any information out of me about a personal case.”

“So you admit whatever’s going on with Viktorya Renfield is personal.”

He hung up. There wasn’t any more information to be gained. He expanded his sense all the way to Ms. Renfield’s apartment. She seemed to be sleeping, restlessly. He avoided thinking too hard about it, but kept some attention on her while laying down himself.

He was startled by movement. Viktorya was up earlier than expected. She sat up abruptly, seemingly crying. He couldn’t read anything of what she was saying, but he moved to the window to get a better idea of what was happening.

Viktorya snapped to attention, no longer crying, and walked slowly, with her hands up, to the bathroom, where she stumbled back and started looking around. She cradled her head in her hands, rocking for a moment.

Jon turned away. He didn’t need to be a voyeur on this woman’s life.

But he didn’t ignore the fact she went to the desk, grabbed two things, and started making motions it took Jon a minute to parse as drawing.

“What are you doing, Ms. Renfield?”

She turned on the light after she put the implement down, then looked at her hands. She went into the bathroom, washed her hands, then lay back down.

Jon watched the window for a few moments longer, unsure if that would happen again. What even had happened? She seemed familiar with whatever was going on enough to sleep it off after seeing the drawing.

“Sleepwalking?”

He’d seen it before. Most people cried after they woke up from it, not while still asleep, but the world was full of possibilities. Either way he wasn’t going to bring it up. This was likely unrelated to anything else, and private sleep issues weren’t in his job description.

He knocked on Viktorya’s door while it was still dark outside. She opened it, the light from her apartment turning her frizzed up hair into a halo of sorts.

“How are you this put together in the morning?” she accused. He caught that she was still in her nightgown. It hung loose on her.

“I didn’t really need to choose my outfit,” he explained.

“You just packed a bunch of the same thing?”

He nodded.

“Rude.” she looked him up and down. “C’mon in, I made coffee.”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Of course you don’t.” she left the door open, returning to her breakfast of oatmeal and nothing else.

“How do you stay up during the day?” he asked.

“Well, I’m mostly sitting if I’m being honest, so I’m fine. Why do you care? I thought you were just here to keep an eye on me.”

“I am,” he affirmed.

“Then don’t mother me. I have a system.”

He wandered around the apartment, trying not to look like he was targeting the desk, but her eyes seemed to light up, and she slammed the cover of the desk down before he could see what was on it. Then she returned to her oatmeal.

“Snoop!”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Why do you think The Fox is able to crack a safe in a single attempt every time?”

He’d heard mention of mages who could see the future, but he hadn’t expected them to be out in the open like this, letting strange men in their house while they still wore their pajamas.

“So you’re an oracle?”

“That’s one name for it. Don’t think too hard about it. I only saw this conversation coming because it was obvious.”

That clicked a few things into place, like how she seemed so nonchalant about things that would stop him in his tracks. She was able to anticipate them.

“So you checked to see who was at the door?”

“Yep. I saw what would happen if I opened the door, and I saw you fully dressed and ready for the day.”

She tossed her finished bowl of oatmeal into a full sink and moved past Jon to the bathroom. She didn’t react like she’d collapsed in it just a few hours before, but it was early in the morning.

Jon walked toward the sink, fumbled around for a sponge and started working on the dishes to keep himself busy. In the other part of the apartment, Viktorya was changing. Jon focused his sense on making sure there wasn’t any grime on the dishes.

“You really don’t need to do that,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. He could spot some sort of marking poking out of her sleeve.

“I needed to keep my hands busy, and if you’re wearing long sleeves to hide your tattoo, I can see it poking out a little.”

“Shit.” she looked at the sleeve, “Thanks.” she pulled the shirt off, which made Jon immediately return to the dishes.

“So are you walking me to work, or do you just want to do the dishes?” she asked after getting changed, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“So you’re ready?”

“Yeah,” she answered, still brushing her hair.

There had been a discussion where Viktorya refused to let him come into her workplace until it opened, which was understandable. He’d argued against it, but stopped when she kissed him on the cheek to prevent her coworker asking the wrong questions when he stepped in. He let down his guard long enough to get some tea and wait for the library to open.

“Opposite of stealing, huh?”

He’d made the comment to himself a few times. It didn’t really seem to be penance either. She genuinely seemed to enjoy her job, though it could be all an act.

He rubbed at his cheek again. She was so casual when she did it too, and all he had to respond with was a smile because he couldn’t really give away to her coworkers why he was actually here.

He checked his watch again, hearing the door click as the library finally opened. He’d checked their policy to make sure it allowed drink, and carefully entered.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Viktorya’s coworker asked, “She’s at the desk.”

He gave a grateful nod, and made his way to the front desk, placing one of the cups in front of it.

“That’s not coffee,” Viktorya growled.

“It’s tea. It’s better for you.”

“But it doesn’t do the job.” she did take a sip, “And is unnecessarily sweet. What did you put in this?”

“Peppermint’s just like that.”

“Disgusting. Thanks. Now if you’re going to bother me my whole shift, at least don’t impede my work.” She made a shooing motion.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He could tell she kept staring at him, but he focused on his new task. It wasn’t inevitable, but if any place was likely to have a copy of Viktorya’s book, her workplace full of books seemed like a good place to start.

Initially he started in the mythical section, but no dice. The many sections of fiction didn’t hold it either.

“What are you looking for?” the other librarian asked.

“A book.”

“Incredibly descriptive, what book?”

He thought librarians were nicer than this.

“Heroes of the Argo.”

“Oh,” the woman’s face lit up, “That’s so sweet. I’m sure Vik will love the gesture. You seem full of them.”

“Thanks?” he wasn’t really sure how to respond.

“You’re looking in the wrong section. It’s in history.”

“Okay. I guess you can tell I don’t know what it’s about.”

“It’s very interesting, trust me. You will not want to put it down.”

“Then I’ll be excited.”

He gave a few more thankful pleasantries, found the section, and finally found the book.

The Heroes of The Argo: Unsung Soldiers of Both World Wars

The cover had a photo that Jon couldn’t look away from. He knew everyone in that photo, mostly because he had taken it. Val was on one end with Akihiko. Anna Elizabeth, José, Eleanor.

Why didn’t he know about this book before?

What England had called Project Argo, Russia had called Project Cygnus, and America called Project Kurtzberg. All three used superhumans to turn the tide of both world wars.

Personally, Jon had been associated with project Kurtzberg during the Second World War. He’d been a kid back then, and he’d long since tried to forget, but here was his family history aired out to the world.

Partway through, he flipped to the back for a bibliography. It mostly contained declassified government sources, but there were two key interviews he couldn’t ignore: Richard Walters and Gareth Shepherd.

He slammed the book closed, earning glances from all of the other patrons.

If she’d interviewed Gareth, then Jon should have known about it, so either the book was lying, or Gareth hid the meeting from him. It was his job to assess anyone coming in. Had she been in the house before? Did Dick recognize her? She seemed pretty distinct, but Dick met so many people.

He took a breath and opened the book up to where he was reading. It focused on Project Argo, where Maxwell Renfield was assigned. Jon had worked with him once or twice. Given the name, he was probably related to Viktorya.

He’d have to be extra careful around her considering what she probably knew. He couldn’t mention Val, since he could tell she had most of the names. His mother was fine, and obviously Gareth was unavoidable. How many people was Jon still in contact with?

“If you like it that much, I can give you a copy from my closet. I have too many anyways.”

Jon couldn’t muster up the words to speak, just staring at Viktorya, who’d already let her hair back down.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” he shook his head, “Just didn’t expect so much generosity.”

“Glad to subvert expectations. C’mon, my shift is over.” she took his book from the table and set it on one of the carts.

“I think I still owe you coffee,” he admitted.

“Real coffee?”

“Real coffee.” he relented.

“Who is this?” Dick’s concerned voice asked.

“It’s Jon.”

“You’ll have to specify, John. It’s a very common name.”

How did Dick manage to push all his buttons like this?

“The second Hunter.”

“Of course, cuz. I knew it was you.”

Of course he knew. He knew too much.

“Do you remember a book called Heroes of The Argo?”

“I’ll be honest, Jonny, I don’t read much.”

Jonny was his father’s nickname, not his.

“Well maybe that wasn’t its name when you were interviewed about it,” he offered, “It might have had something to do with Project Kurtzberg.”

Dick’s end was mostly silent aside from a few hums of pondering.

“You’re mad because I never brought it up, aren’t you?” he finally asked.

“Absolutely. Why the hell would you leave me to find it by accident?”

“Because I didn’t think it would get published,” Dick insisted, “I decided not to rile all of you up for nothing.”

“Were you not sent a copy or something when it was published?”

“How much of what gets sent to me do you think actually reaches my hands? I’m the only Empowered Senator in America. I have multiple targets on my back from all directions.”

Now they were getting into the myth.

“Do you know how difficult it is to care about all these people who want my attention?” Dick continued.

“No, Dick, I don’t, nor do I care. What I do care about is how you didn’t recognize the person who interviewed you.”

“What?”

“She was at the New Year’s party” Jon explained, “You saw her and didn’t mention recognizing her at all. Why?”

“Must have looked pretty forgettable,” Dick said, “Can I sleep now?”

“She was pretty distinct,” Jon grilled.

“Not all of us know a woman’s body without taking everything off.”

Jon slammed the phone onto the machine, then remembered he wasn’t actually done.

“That was definitely on purpose.”

He couldn’t call back now, because Dick wouldn’t answer, so Jon was left doing what he didn’t want to do. He dialed the familiar number.

“Who is this?” Gareth answered, sounding far too awake.

“You should be asleep,” Jon said.

“That’s not in your job description, and didn’t you take time off?”

“Yes, and I found an interesting book.”

“Really, what’s it called?”

“The Heroes of the Argo: Unsung Soldiers of Both World Wars.”

“Oh.” Gareth gave his own ominous silence.

“You were interviewed for it.”

“Over the phone,” Gareth answered, “Which is why you weren’t informed. I have a copy in one of the studies if you’d like a better look at it.”

Jon looked at his own copy.

“Actually, I got a fresh one directly from the author.”

“So you’re pursuing Ms. Renfield. Congratulations, she seemed like a good match.”

He’d complain about Gareth’s opinions on romance, but Jon knew enough of his employer’s history to avoid that rabbit hole.

“I’m following a lead, because Viktorya was sent the necklace she stole from you.”

“Do you have it?” Gareth asked.

“Yes.”

“Then why are you still there?”

Jon looked at the window again. This time Viktorya showed off the tattoo on her arm he’d noticed before. It looked like some kind of word, but Jon couldn’t decipher the language. She then shook her head laughing and walked to the bed.

“Jon?” Gareth asked.

“Yeah, sorry. I think it’s fishy that her client sent the necklace right back, like this was for something else altogether.”

“Did you consider that she could be the mastermind?”

“I don’t think so,” Jon said, “She seems content with what she’s doing.”

But she had adjusted to his presence rather quickly. He moved his focus away from the window.

“You have good instincts for this,” Gareth said, “I wouldn’t have hired you otherwise, but promise me you’ll let this go when it’s time. I don’t want you to endure another Eleanor.”

“Another Eleanor? What do you—?”

He heard the click of the call ending.

He expanded his sense to get a look at Viktorya’s room, where all seemed well. Then he resigned himself to trying to sleep.