How Green Becomes Wood

"I suppose I expected the entire party would be people who prefer to stick to the corners," Dark replied, and then after a moment corrected himself, "Or, be half those sorts, and half people who are much too proud to be FBI agents and who walk around as though they are the next Bond, despite Bond being decidedly the British version of a CIA operative, rather than a FBI agent. And no, I do not believe I met Verona."
 
"There is no exact equivalent to the FBI in Britain, but the NCA would be a close comparison," Ciara said. "M worked for MI6, or the SIS, as I believe is its official name. Not that much in Mr. Fleming's books are particularly realistic. Much like FBI media."
 
"My apoloogies. I shall endeavour not to share information about you and to better protect your privacy," Ciara said, reading Dark completely wrongly. That was unusual for her, but she was not without her own biases playing into her judgment.

In fact, while she did speak about them some, much of the information had come about incidentally, like when the family needed to be vetted because of the FBI connection, when Ciara had pulled some strings to help Daizi's family come over more quickly, and when Ciara had asked for a little time off during one of the family situations. Her boss had asked about her time-off request since the only other time Ciara had taken time off outside of mandated vacation days was when her mother was ill, and she had told him a little bit about the family. That had sparked curiosity, and a premature baby was always something of interest.
 
"It is not a problem," Dark assured her, "I just did not expect to meet so many people who knew my name, or that Ivy was born prematurely. My expectation was our existence was on a purely need-to-know basis."
 
Ciara relaxed a little. "Unfortunately, many of the people you met were on the need-to-know basis when I chose to stay involved with your family. Agents of a certain security clearance have their close family members and sometimes friends go through a background check and similar. We are, of course, not supposed to speak of certain things outside the office, but it is part of the security protocol to make certain no obvious threats are hiding in plain sight. From there, gossip spread, and from time to time I needed to answer a few questions. Premature babies are a source of fascination to many women."
 
Although Dark had intended to just make a comment about how his coworkers reacted to his premature baby, a growing question began to burn in his mind. Looking straight at the road, his tone neutral, Dark asked, "How much did you learn about me?"
 
Ciara did not look at him. Not out of shame, but because she knew what she would see. "More than you want me to know. The answer is the same for anyone who asks with few exceptions. I, however, was not the one to do or first read the results."
 
"That depends on how many requested to see the file, and how many were then granted access. Probability? Three. Of a certainty? One, although she processes so many that I doubt she made the connection between one of the thousands of names she has read and you as a person," Ciara informed him.
 
"Okay." Dark replied, taking a controlled breath. He knew, of course he knew, that it was a group of FBI. Of course Ciara had looked into him, she had to. It wasn't personal. Of course some of the rest had seen it. He reminded himself he had made the decision to publish some of what he had experienced, which may otherwise be considered a deep secret.

But there were three words ringing in his ears, three words he wanted--needed--buried. Words which summed of more than you would like.

The child in his mind and body who never got to be a child wanted to yell that it wasn't fair, that he should get to just leave things behind in the rubble. But he just watched the road.
 
Ciara felt an odd urge she'd never had before: the urge to justify herself. She resisted. There was nothing to justify or defend. She hadn't even read the whole file, only the highlights.

"It is possible your old name appears somewhere in the documentation I gave your son. No, I do not know what your name was. Only that you changed it," she commented.
 
Her not knowing what that name was, presuming she was honest and not merely sparing his feelings, helped settle him. There were only two people he had trusted it to. He believed there would only ever be two. "It is a dead name," he told her, "not merely old. I will ask if he still has those documents so I may take the page if I find it listed."
 
Ciara glanced at him, brow raised. "It is one name among many, many others. A name I doubt your son even knows, as it does not seem like you told him. If it is in those documents to begin with. Would it not be better to simply let it be? However, if you are looking for it, it would most like be among articles C, 23-B, or D-4."
 
"No. It would not be." Dark told her with a tone of finality in his voice while he tightened his grip on the wheel although he was still driving perfectly safely. "How much do you know about Daizi? More than she would like?"
 
Ciara said nothing for a long moment. "Thank you for accompanying me this evening. You were of great service, and you brought much delight to others. Please let me out at the next convenient stop," she said, her tone cool and calm.
 
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