Disclaimer: Definitely do not own either Numb3rs or the Unit .
“Colby Granger,” the man introduced himself. “I was Army, then CID, then FBI for awhile, working undercover for the CIA.”
“Why’d you re-enlist?” Jonas asked, falling into place besides the younger man. His eyes were on the horizon, watching the sun go down in the west, orange blending into purple as it hit the ground. Bits of stars were peaking out of the clouds.
“There was a girl, in LA.” Colby stated. “Her older brother was my Supervisor, Don.” Colby recounted. “There was a guy, selling secrets to the Chinese. They needed an agent to do it, and someone to break the Chinese codes in front of our own agents. There was also a list of double agents, needing to be broken.”
“To catch the guy you needed in.” Jonas stated.
“The girl was tapped to write me in to the code, onto the list.” Colby stated. “She wrote me in the code, and sobbed as she did it.” Colby’s eyes scanned the horizon, houses against the sky. In jeans and a t-shirt, he looked as imposing as he had in a suit, and a lot more comfortable. The suits had gotten more comfortable in the end, Charlie having brought him to a tailor that she routinely visited for some of her more specialized outfits; things to wear to formal dinners, things to wear while consulting. “She watched me get arrested, interrogated by co-workers, never showed but what our marching orders told us to show. Then one night, I’m switched to solitary, and I fall asleep there, ass on the concrete. I wake up to see her kneeling down at my side. She’d pulled strings to get me into that cell, and her into that cell, simply to get me a few things the CIA neglected to give me before the assignment. She held a knife as she placed a subcutaneous capsule of poison arrow frog venom in my armpit.” Jonas looked at him with sharp eyes. “I knew her name. the name she was born with, the name of her brother, her beloved past lovers, her father. I knew that she was born in Los Angeles, knew that she speaks eight languages, can spell in none of them except the ninth, binary. I know that I’d met her before Los Angeles, and that I’ll know her again. And I know that after my mission was accomplished, she used her contacts to get me back in.”
“You think that you didn’t earn this spot?” Jonas asked.
“No, I know that I earned it. I just know that I wouldn’t have been here without her pulling strings. The CIA would have let me rot in some prison, somewhere, or put me to another undercover gig where I’d have to make friends and then betray them all.”
“You miss ‘em?”
“Every day. But her, most of all.”