McSwazey
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Volume 2: Chapter 202 — Favors and Influence
🕑 Added 2023-11-29 02:47:31 +0000 UTCIt took Dan a few days to arrange a meeting with Emily Carver, the federal agent who he'd helped raid the Evo Church. The real chore had been tracking her down. Unlike Jeremy Rawls, he had not swapped contact information with Agent Carver before they separated. That's not to say she was uninterested in networking, only that she had much more important things to do at the time. Dan bore most of the fault. He hadn't stuck around very long once they'd collared the church Elder. It took some asking around, but he finally found her posted in a small field office outside D.C. proper.
The field office was small and unassuming. It looked more Postal Service than FBI, with a small lobby space and a wide counter behind which sat a bored looking secretary. Dan informed her of his appointment and was invited past the counter. She ushered him through a small door marked 'Employee's Only', whereupon he discovered a narrow hallway lined with another series of doors.
"Last door on the right," the secretary said in a bored tone, gesturing unenthusiastically towards the end and retaking her seat without a second glance to resume browsing her phone. Dan obeyed, sweeping each locked room with his veil and discovering an ungodly amount of file cabinets and paperwork. The final door hung slightly ajar, and a small name plate reading 'Carver' was slotted into a groove near the top.
Dan knocked politely before entering and found Agent Emily Carver sitting in a cramped room, behind a small, metal desk. There was a single window, high up on the ceiling and narrow as anything. Only the barest dribble of daylight trickled down from the sky; the room was otherwise lit by a desk lamp and a bulb protruding from an ancient-looking ceiling fan. There was a filing cabinet in each corner of the room, drawers bulging with papers, and dozens more manila folders were stacked in messy piles on the tops.
Dan was quickly reconsidering calling in a favor with this woman. He might not have done her as great a service as he'd first assumed. Yet when Dan looked at Carver, she seemed lighter somehow. Less tense and less angry. Healthier even, and unburdened. When she greeted Dan, she smiled with genuine cheer and invited him to take a seat on a rickety chair that was surprisingly supple for all its shabby appearance. Her own chair, Dan noted, looked equally comfortable.
"Mr. Newman," Emily Carver greeted, shaking Dan's hand. "How have you been?"
"I'm doing well," Dan replied, a little taken aback. Pleasantries was not what he'd expected from this woman. "And you? You seem..." He glanced around the room, searching for an appropriate word. "Comfortable?"
"It's cozy," she agreed without any sarcasm Dan could detect.
"I kind of expected you to be in D.C.," Dan said, trying to be delicate. "I figured the Evo Church would've been a big score, despite all the complications." Enough to move her up in the world of agency politics. Not... here. If this part of Maryland had a name, Dan didn't know what it was.
Carver laughed, deep and throaty, slapping her desk with one hand. "Oh, it was! It was!" She grinned, face flushed with mirth. "Blacking the Church's eye like that won me a whole lot of goodwill from some very influential people, but I pissed off plenty more in the process."
Dan scowled at the news. "The Church has allies in the FBI?"
"Sure," Carver replied with a careless shrug. "One or two, almost certainly, but that's not why I'm here. I was a little hasty with the raid. Just a—" she held out her thumb and index finger, "a teensy bit rushed, perhaps. I didn't bother passing it up the chain, didn't want to risk getting turned down, but that got me in real trouble with several people. Some higher-ups were being asked questions to which they did not have immediate answers. Never a good look for the Bureau. Fortunately, success buys a lot of forgiveness."
Dan looked around the room. This was forgiveness?
Carver laughed again. His expression must have been obvious.
"This is a temporary gig," she explained, gesturing to her cramped surroundings. "I'm being punished for my haste, then rewarded for my victories. They've shoved me somewhere quiet and out of the way while the press buzz around the Church cools down. I'm treating it a bit like a paid vacation."
"But you'll be back in action at some point?" Dan asked.
"Three to six months is my guess," Carver confirmed. "Then, up the ladder I go."
"That's good," Dan said. "You earned it."
"With your help," Carver agreed. "So, what can I do for you?"
Straight to the point. That was more like the Carver he remembered.
Dan reciprocated. "You've heard about the vigilante running around D.C.?" She nodded, and he continued, "I want to track them down."
The declaration earned him a raised brow. "Track them down?" she repeated. "Not catch?"
"Not catch," Dan confirmed. He hesitantly added, "Or rather, not catch immediately. It's more in my interest to keep whoever it is out there and under surveillance until the time is right."
Carver chewed on the explanation, her hands coming together and fingertips drumming against each other. She stared down at the desk for twenty full seconds before looking back up at Dan.
"Your interest," she asked pointedly, "or Anastasia Summers'?"
"Mine," Dan replied without hesitation. He didn't want any confusion or pressure. The Summers name carried weight, but not always in a good way. "Let me be clear: Anastasia's interests and mine are aligned here, but I'm the one asking. You won't earn any favors from her by saying yes, and you won't earn her displeasure by saying no. This one's all me."
"But you have the Lady Summers' ear?" Carver pressed with surprising eagerness. "You hold some influence with her?"
Dan blinked. "I, uh, not really? The only person who influences Anastasia is Anastasia." He paused, thinking it over. "And occasionally Abby."
"The woman you are dating," Carver pointed out dryly.
"Well, yeah," Dan admitted. "So I guess I have influence in some ways, and not so much in others. But if you're asking if I can make promises on her behalf, the answer is no. Full disclosure: she doesn't like me very much."
Carver dismissed this point with a flick of her wrist. "You're sleeping with her granddaughter. That's only to be expected." She leaned forward, weaving her fingers together. "Look, I owe you, Newman. I'm willing to help you out, but my reach is limited by my connections. If I can claim I'm developing an asset with a connection to the Summers family, that reach becomes much greater."
"That much is true," Dan begrudgingly agreed. Using Anastasia's name always left him feeling like he'd been dipped in slime. "Claim whatever you like, just know the only commitment I can make is to speak to her on your behalf. If and when she laughs me out of the room, that's on you."
"Even an indirect line to Anastasia Summers is a valuable thing," Carver said with a wide grin. "How can I help you, Mr. Newman?"
"I need access to whatever sources you have in the DCPD. I want a way to identify the D.C. vigilante, or at least build a pattern of appearances."
"Your goal is to discover this person's identity, but not arrest them?" Carver clarified.
"Essentially, yes," Dan confirmed. "That's not a requirement, though. I want to surveil him, long-term. I can handle that part, but I need a starting point. So far, the vigilante's a ghost. I don't even know what they look like."
"You want to peek into the DCPD and see if they've got a visual on your target," Carver said.
Dan nodded. "And maybe have them hang back if they ever run into the vigilante. Like I said, I don't want them off the street just yet."
"That last bit is a big ask." Carver chewed her lip, drumming the fingers of her left hand against the desk surface. "I might be able to swing it. I'll have to call in some favors. At the very least I can promise they'll deprioritize the vigilante's arrest."
"I'd appreciate it," Dan said. "What about getting a hint on their identity?"
"You don't need the DCPD for that," Carver said, surprising Dan. "Look here." She pulled open the nearest filing cabinet, leafing through folders until she pulled out a blank form.
"The Vigilante Act gives the FBI blanket access to civilian surveillance networks in pursuit of, well, vigilantes. I just have to fill out this form and we can pull footage from anywhere in D.C."
Dan stared down at the piece of paper. "It can't be that easy."
"Well, it'll probably still take some time. We'll have to go back through old footage in the areas where vigilante activity was reported. I'm sure there's a lot, and some will have been deleted by now. Honestly, a fresh report would be best."
"Okay," Dan said, slightly in shock that this venture had worked out more or less to plan. "Sounds good."
The complicated part was over. The rest was just a matter of time.
