Closed RP Hotel Federal Employment

[Ava Hunt]

Packing. Again. One might think that with her decades of experience in performing such an activity that Ava Hunt would be quite the professional. Yeah...well...eat shit. The only thing her lengthy experience has ever actually taught her is to not accumulate a bunch of worthless sentimental bullshit clutter that does nothing but fill her garage with yet another box that won't be opened again for another fucking decade. Of course, this hard-earned lesson has seemingly flown away into the distant horizon as the prosecutor places yet another cringe-worthy mug (this one with a cute little cartoon figure saying "Best Boss EVAR") gifted to her by a former subordinate (who has not worked here in five years) in the cardboard box she'd already pre-labeled as "Memorables, 2024".

A knock at her open door manages to draw her attention away from the seemingly-infinite number of mugs that have somehow accumulated on one of her office's bookshelves. A tall young and rather attractive man stood in the doorway with a rather glum expression.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I..." the man began before his voice trailed off, breaking a little as it did. Andre Willems, her now former-paralegal / secretary, clearly wasn't handling the transition well.

At least he has his cute little girlfr-wait...no...they're engaged now. Heh. Fucking painful.

"You know, Andre, you could at least stop calling me 'ma'am' on my last day," Ava answered with a smirk.

"Yes, ma'am...I mean...yes...boss. Wait...no...former...boss?"

Ava could see the steam beginning to rise out of the boy's skull. It wasn't that he was stupid; he would never have survived working under her if he was. No, it was just that he'd come fresh from his first year of law school after leaving the Marine Corps and had never quite shaken that strict-adherence to propriety.

"Ava. Just call me Ava. Plus, you're a licensed attorney now, remember? Diploma, Bar exam and all. So, if anything, we're peers now."

Taking a moment to approach the young man, Ava pointed at him and then herself.

"Same-same."

"Yes, ma'am," Andre answered so quickly that his former superior wondered if he was going to actually salute her...again.

"Anyway, what did you want, kid?"

Sure, the older woman knew that her former underling wasn't any kind of child and really had never been since working for her, but it brought her some miniscule amount of joy in reminding the 25 y/o that he was young to her. Even if he was due to get married later this year.

"Mr. Cohen said that he could have your entire office packed up and shipped to you, didn't he? I was just wondering why you're spending all this time here fussing over it."

"Probably because Tony's exceedingly butthurt that I'm leaving and would no doubt take the opportunity to have all my stuff thrown away."

"Oh, yeah, I guess he did seem a bit tense when your name came up earlier."

Her brow raised momentarily before she went back to her packing. It didn't take long before Andre's voice picked up again. Her silence was apparently too much for the young man.

"He asked me to meet him this morning to congratulate me on passing the Bar."

Ava's silence continued as she wrapped yet another mug in packing paper.

"...and he offered me a job. Here," Andre continued, his tone a bit shaky as he tried to muddle forward. Despite their years of working together, he never could quite tell his boss' emotions when she hid her face.

Finally, as she closed the box and taped it up, Ava turned to him with a smile.

"That's great, kid. Did he give you a written offer?"

Andre was seemingly shocked out of a stupor he didn't even know he was in before letting out a quick but stuttering "Neh-nn-no."

Rolling her eyes, Ava scooped up the box of mugs and mementos with one arm and handed it to the young and quite visibly fit man. Nearly dropping the box from the sudden weight being pressed into him, a small corner of Andre's mind logged for what was easily the hundredth time just how strong Ms. Hunt was before the rest of his mind focused on her words as she quickly unfolded another box.

"Listen: don't get hung up on this one potential offer, kid. Shop around. Feel free to toss my name out there too. I know old Bernie Stanton likes you too," the prosecutor rambled as she quickly taped up the underside of the fresh box to hold it together, "I know you were kinda on the fence about which side of the aisle you wanted to play, but let me tell you now: the pay on their side is much, much better."

Her desk was entirely clear by this point as were most of her shelves. The only remaining things were some photo albums her original secretary, Denise, had made for her from her first year working here. They fit quite snugly in the last box with a soft scraping sound.

"And if you do decide to stick around here, make sure that you secure your choice of secretary and paralegals. The pool here is not too bad, but I guarantee that fucking Reynolds and Copeland will try to freeze you out during your first year if you let 'em. Pricks think this place is just an evolved form of their fucking fraternity."

"Yes, ma'am."

Looking around the room, Ava's mind briefly wondered if she'd miss it or not after a year with the Feds. Her cell buzzed softly in her pocket, but she wasn't about to answer Mom for the fourth time today.

Allegheny County District Attorney's Office, 2024

 

[Fyston]

It had been a while since Matt had graced the halls of the District Attorney's office with his presence. Partially because they tried to hem him up for his actions during the Convention shooting and partially because DA Cohen had earned such a bad reputation among the PPD that most of the detectives outright refused to do anything with the DA's office that didn't have a paper trail, a recording of some sort, and at least two witnesses. There was also the slight issue that Matty had been undercover as Fred Adkins for so long that he'd almost forgotten that he knew people outside of the Anti-Meta Militia group. Almost.

Matt had spent the better part of three hours doing his best to ensure he had identified and lost any potential tails before he even considered dropping by the DA's office. Shopping trips, walks in the park, driving like an idiot who had no idea where he was going, and a dozen other counter-surveillance techniques had become routine any time he did anything personal and, while he'd shaken whatever tails might have been sent to keep an eye on him, it grew tiring after a while.

There were a few benefits to being undercover, though, namely the fact that he'd grown slightly used to the defenseless feeling he got when he had to go somewhere without a weapon. As a uniformed officer and, later, a detective, he'd been one of the few armed people in otherwise No Guns Allowed areas. Nowadays, however, he had to join the large percentage of the population who was unarmed in secure facilities and who had to pay heed to the pesky signs like the one that hung outside the DA's office front door. Had this been a private business or a Wal-Mart or anything like that, Matt would simply have ignored it. Instead, he didn't even have a knife on him as he opened the door and stepped into the building.

The detective remembered the pockmarked face of one of the security guards, namely because the guard had tried to disarm him despite his badge. The young man clearly didn't remember Matt, though, and waved him through without much hassle. Much. He still asked too many questions about Matt's business and held his ID up for long enough for Matt or, rather, Fred to get a little angry. "I'm here for a deposition, bro, gimme my ID back." It was a little more aggressive than the poor kid deserved but Matt didn't have the luxury of assuming that the DA's office was corruption free. Cohen virtually ensured that it was rampant. It didn't win him any favors with the guard, who used what little authority he had to force Matt to endure a secondary screening but it kept Matt clean and that was more important.

Once through security, Matt hit a side staircase and made his way up to Ava's floor. In a past life, he'd have just taken the elevator or, at least, a more commonly used set of stairs. Instead, it was more important that he was seen by as few people as possible and he had a buddy at the DA's office cut the cameras in the staircase under the guise of bad wiring. They'd be working fine as soon as maintenance showed up or Matt was clear of the building, whichever was sooner, but it was all part of the game. Taking a deep breath, Matt stepped out of the stairwell and headed to the right. Ava's office hadn't moved the entire time he'd known her and she was the third office down on the left. Not much of a view but it meant she didn't have to worry about anyone throwing themselves from her window if she gave them bad news.

"Hey, Andre. I heard you passed the bar. Good shit, man, I knew you could do it." Matt's current appearance likely drew a weird look from the newly-minted attorney before Matt saw him realize who had wandered into a soon-to-be-reassigned office. Turning to Ava, he withdrew a small Ghost-Spider stuffed plushie from his hoodie pocket as well as a handwritten note addressed in cute but slightly sloppy handwriting: Ms. Ava, My Superhero. He sat both on Ava's desk and stepped back somewhat.

"At least one of us is getting out of here. I always said you were too good for this city, though now I have nothing but hate for this office. Between Cohen, Spencer, Woods, Hoskins, Wes- I'll stop, I think there's only two or three decent attorneys left in this fuckin' place. Sorry I haven't been around, I only get a few hours a week to be Matt. Speaking of which, Fred Adkins has a ticket or three that I need handled. Schmidt on nights wrote me for fuckin four over last week because he's new and trying to prove himself and I can't really pull the badge card since all of seven people know I'm UC and not on loan to one agency or another."

Taking a breath, Matt lowered himself into a chair he used to spend quite a bit of time in. "Cece sends her regards and wanted me to give you those. I appreciate you keeping an eye on her after everything happened. She's grown fond of you but I couldn't justify bringing her down. Plus Ashley is pushing for full custody given that I'm 'gone' so often and because I am 'too self-absorbed to read the visitation schedule' so, yknow, she pushed back when I asked."

 

[Ava Hunt]

Spinning towards the door suddenly, Ava found herself at a loss. Jonesy was in deep these days, she'd learned. So deep that most of the force thought he was on assignment in New York. Hell, she'd only known he was even still alive from her weekly visits with Cece.

"I've already handled the problems for ole Fred with the municipal courts," the prosecutor responded with a smirk as she picked up the plushie, "Judge Whitcolm is still on the up and up despite his partial retirement so he's handling it, discreetly of course."

Ava stuffed the little hero into her jacket pocket as she turned to Andre. The man nodded quickly before closing the door behind him, causing the older litigator to realize once again just how much she was going the miss the man.

"I told you before that I can schedule a little chat between the former Missus and I if you'd like," Hunt continued, "You know I used to do CPS cases before I got bumped up to this dumpster fire of a position."

Walking back to her worn out chair, Ava sat down for what she honestly hoped would be the last time just as Andre knocked softly. After waiting for her to answer, the big man glided into the room and set two things down on the desk: a canned mocha latte and a can of some nonsensical sugar-free energy drink. He then left without a word just as Ava felt that twinge of loss once more.

"Anyway, it's not confirmed whether or not I'm leaving town yet," she added while opening her coffee-flavored milkshake, "Technically I now serve at the behest of the DOJ as the Attorney General's office was the one who stamped my approvals, not the local District Attorney. Of course, that guy's still just an acting DA until the Senate confirms him."

Looking over the man before her, Ava began to wonder if it wouldn't be beneficial for the man to also Make the Switch, as some called it, to the Feds. Then she remembered her own experience and sincerely questioned for what seemed to be the hundredth time today what the actual fuck she was even doing agreeing to help the federal government in this rather comical role.

Old habits, she thought with a grimace before taking an actual sip. God, processed sugar and caffeine were truly divine gifts.

Allegheny County District Attorney's Office, 2024

 

[Ira]

Special Agent Benjamin Carver was the type of person who specialized in going unnoticed until the exact moment in which she cared to reveal herself. Her footfalls made no noise, her gait held the quiet confidence of someone who belonged no matter where she went, and her face held a gentle, disarming smile that people tended to see and forget to do their jobs.

So it was so very, very frustrating to be walking alongside Val.

Val was a ray of sunshine, a beacon of hope, and a massive walking sign that screamed 'HI I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE TEEHEE!' So it was with great internal pain that Benjamin had to flash her badge and explain to every passing security guard with a hint of authority that yes, she was supposed to be here and no, they did not need to explain. Of course, Benjamin did not show a single iota of her internal feelings on her face or body language. You didn't train for decades just to slip up when you were slightly inconvenienced.

Walking up the stairs and stepping to the right, Benjamin knocked twice and did not wait for a response before she entered Ava's office. With that same calm, gentle smile on her face, she announced herself to those present.

"Annyeonghaseyo~"

Her tone was jovial, but as she looked through her round frame glasses at Ava she felt that, perhaps, her arrival would not be greeted with joy. Hence, there was one more person entering directly behind Benjamin.

 

[HEX]

Special Agent Valerie Hawthorne was not the kind of person who specialized in going unnoticed until the exact moment in which she cared to reveal herself. That was why every time they passed someone, she clasped her hands together and apologized to Benny in a hushed tone after they had passed whoever had given them a funny look and asked for their IDs. It wasn't her fault that her smile naturally attracted the attention of everyone around her, whether that was for good reasons or not. It might have been her neon red hair, once a shade of auburn that she had accidentally dyed too bright last week. Or maybe it was her naturally bright green eyes.

Either way, Val certainly found herself apologizing to Benny quite a lot.

They finally made it to the door that they had been looking for. Benny knocked on it and opened it without waiting for an answer, as she usually did. Eventually Val would get over the innate response of wanting to tell Benny that it was rude to go into a room without being invited if you were going to bother to knock. That day was not today as she pursed her lips for just a moment before sighing. Following after Benny, she stepped into the room, taking a brief look around.

There were three people inside, but only one of them really mattered, she'd been told. Ava Hunt, the taller woman standing in front of her. Even in her heeled boots, which brought Val to a more reasonable five feet tall, she wasn't nearly as tall as the woman they had come for, who was all things considered, just on the higher end of average.

There were two men in there with her. One of them was her assistant– well, former assistant. The other, she didn't recognize. She gave a little head nod to all three of them as she slipped in and closed the door behind her, straightening out the front of her suit jacket. "Hello."

Usually, she let Benny get them going. Today would be no exception. For now, she would observe, and she would collect information as needed. Already, she was reaching into her suit's pocket and pulling out a small notepad and a pen– purple and hexagonal with gold trim, well cared for, expensive looking– to take notes with as needed.

 

[Fyston]

A relieved smile crossed Matt's face when Ava mentioned that she had taken care of the issue. Or was it Fred's face? The stubble, the fake ink that was real enough to only need retouching every few months, and the demeanor that Matt had been forced to adopt kept it difficult to keep everything separate, especially when he was stressed or tired. It had taken no small effort to suppress whatever underlying mannerisms that Matt might have and he'd been living as Fred so often that it was difficult to become Matt. He was sure that Cece had noticed but how do you explain to a child that you've become a different person to hopefully make the city safe enough that she can drive, vote, work, and live without fear?

When the prosecutor-turned-federal-attorney mentioned sitting down with his ex-wife, however, Matt's smile became significantly sadder. The type of smile that said 'I don't know how much good it would do,' 'I'm not exactly in the best place to argue,' 'Maybe this is all for the best,' and even 'You're too big time for my tiny problems' all at the same time. His eyes, normally as steely and steady as ever, betrayed the regret that he was having about the whole operation. For all of the sleepless nights, the potential loss of who he was, the constant worry about being found out, and everything else that went into deep cover work, was it really worth giving up who he had been? Especially considering that things had gotten so bad that Matt often laid awake at night worried that things were getting worse and that progress, if any was being made, was being measured in millimeters rather than anything meaningful. Combine that with what he was rapidly discovering was rampant corruption in the department, the knowledge that he was powerless to stop the degradation of his relationship with his daughter had his morale at what could only be considered an all time low.

Matt was planning on saying something, anything, to keep up the facade that he had everything under control. Between the fact that his mind had been thrown for a loop by her offer, his exhaustion, and the fact that he simply thought slower when thinking as Matt as well as the fact that two new figured had entered the office, however, he didn't get a chance. For that, he might have even been grateful. What Matt didn't see, however, was the subtle shift in his own face and his own body language. He might be thinking as Matt Jones, detective, but his body had subconsciously returned to being Fred Adkins as if the arrival of anyone new risked his life. He didn't look at them directly but, then again, he didn't need to. His peripheral vision, combined with the reflection on the window, allowed him to sneak a subtle glance at the newcomers' faces even as he sat off to the side.

The first person he recognized instantly, if only because he had read enough files and press briefings to remember the face whenever he saw it: Former Deputy Director of the FBI Benjamin Carver. Some of his academy buddies had made the switch to the FBI and her name had come up during some of their conversations. There had been a few rumors about why she had been demoted from Deputy Director to a department head but, then again, law enforcement tended to make up wild stories if they weren't given an actual reason. Even then, they often embellished the truth or simply made up a more interesting reason, sure that they were correct that Carver had been demoted because she was a Chinese spy who honey-potted her way to the top but stopped because the FBI's director was a horrible lay. Since his time with Mary's group, his FBI contacts had mentioned her name here and there and he knew of her existence but Matt had asked to know as little as possible and they obliged. You couldn't give up what you didn't know and he lived in a constant state of almost being captured.

The second agent, however, he didn't know. Her suit was fancy, her notepad even more so. Is this what the Feds spend their budget on while I'm getting by on third shift security work? came a voice from deep inside Matt's head. It was a frustrating thought and he shushed the voice immediately, careful to keep his face neutral, but it was a thought nonetheless. Matt Jones kept getting department direct deposits, of course, but he could only really use that money sparingly and for true emergencies. He'd gotten a stern talking to by one of his handlers when he paid for Cece's dental work a month or two ago when he was supposed to be in New York. Fred Adkins, however, had been set up with pulling nighttime armed security for some warehouse. It paid far less than the department, kept him awake far more than he liked, and generally sucked but it provided a means that Fred could pay his bills while still using his skills and being useful to the Anti-Meta Militia. It had been an important consideration when setting up the cover ID but that didn't mean that Matt, or possibly Fred, couldn't be slightly miffed that the FBI had enough spare cash to afford fancy fuckin' notebooks. When he had been on patrol, he got the same Office Max dollar notebooks that every other officer had but, then again, fancy notebooks were simply a perk of being a Fed.

 

[Ava Hunt]

I'm worried about you Ava thought loudly enough for it to hopefully transfer directly into her friend's thick skull through his not quite dead but dying eyes. She'd heard the tales, of course, of the difficulties undercover officers had to face every moment of their lives while on a case and Jonesy's entire presence just seemed to verify them.

Picking her can of coffee-flavored liquid sugar up off the desk again, Ava had nearly managed to put it to her lips when her office door opened without any kind of warning. A heavy sigh was building up to escape her as she moved to set the can back down when...

"Annyeonghaseyo~"

There are times in every person's life when their bodies tend to overdo things in moments of surprise or strong emotion. Ava Hunt was now struck with both as the can in her hand exploded suddenly with terrific amounts of suddenly compressed chilled coffee flying across the desk and partially onto Ava's arm and lap.

There was a heavy pause as a second woman closed the door behind the actual demon who'd entered with so much nonchalance that it could be considered an actual superpower. The click of the door latch finally brought Ava back from the brink of leaping out the nearby window.

"Demon," Ava hissed between gritted teeth, "Still feigning ignorance of polite society, huh?"

Flashes from the past crossed Ava's mind in a flurry. Cuba. Nam. Cambodia. The Khmer Rouge. Africa. Afghanistan. Old anger rose up and then died just as quickly. Her logical mind had accepted the slave-driver's arguments long ago, but the rest of her clearly had not.

"Jonesy, I'd tell you to shoot her if it wouldn't just kill you instead," Ava continued as she took off her now-soaked suit jacket and brushed off her knee-length skirt, "So what can a lowly state prosecutor do for the Bureau and its...actual bucket of sunshine?"

Ava's last comment was pointedly aimed at the woman accompanying Benny who was, more than anything, the exact opposite of the little Korean dictator. Her own base hostility dialed back as well as she truly noticed the short vibrant girl alongside the looming specter of the actual government.

Allegheny County District Attorney's Office, 2024