“…until I see it for myself,” finishes Medic as he steps through the door of his room at the New Siam Guest House. Holding the door open for him is The Handler, shades atop a courteous smile. Both move casually through the muggy Bangkok night toward the lobby stairs.
They descend to find Elvis, Dmitri, and Dominic sitting at a small table with a woman that Medic has never seen before. He shoots a “who is that?” look at The Handler who responds with a shrug.
The woman is taller than everyone except Dominic. Loose blonde curls hang down to pale shoulders, casually framing an attractive but dour face. Atop her thin frame rests a plain black tank top. In her left hand she holds a slender cigarette, occasionally taking a drag and blowing the smoke over the “NO SMOKING” sign on the wall just above her.
Medic quickly remembers the newspaper-holding stranger they’d passed earlier. She’d probably observed them when they arrived, did who-knows-what-else in the meantime.
Dominic stands up and smiles warmly as Medic and The Handler approach the table, then introduces them to the woman.
“This is Mira. Mirabelle, actually, but who has time for that, eh?” he says with a sideways chuckle toward the woman.
Mira produces a faint smile in acknowledgement.
“Pleasure iz mine,” she says with a thick, drawling French accent as she angles her light blue eyes at The Handler, then Medic.
The Handler responds first, pushing forward for a firm handshake. Mira grabs The Handler’s offering meekly with her fingertips and moves her limp wrist up and down a few times. She then retracts her delicate hand back to its position on the table as she takes another drag on her cigarette.
The Handler pulls her own hand back with a look of mild disgust.
Medic chooses instead to nod gently at Mira who nods back. As everyone shuffles their chairs to make room for the newcomers, Medic catches her flashing him a faint smile.
“Okay, so is this everyone?” opens The Handler assertively. “Anyone else joining us? Any more secret recruits we’d like to get off our chests?”
“And who exactly made you boss, Becks?” begins Dmitri in a calm but firm voice from across the table.
Jutting out her lower jaw, The Handler purses her lips in visibly stifled agitation.
“Oh, she didn’t tell you yet? Her real name?” asks Dmitri with an upraised eyebrow, catching Medic’s look of bewilderment.
Turning his attention back to The Handler, Dmitri waits for a response. The Handler remains silent.
“And we’re the ones keeping secrets,” he says in a mocking tone as he turns back to Medic. “It’s Rebekah. Rebekah is her real name. Miss Becks if you’re nasty. Becky among friends.”
The Handler has removed her sunglasses to reveal an intense glare.
Medic isn’t sure what mixture of rage and shame her beaming red face represents but it’s obvious that the revelation has gotten to her. He waits for her to say something but she doesn’t.
“Why did you need to keep that secret?” he finally asks.
“It involves more than just me,” she responds in a heavily measured tone. “Let’s just leave it at that.”
“And did you all know this?” asks Medic as he looks around the table.
“Only as much as she’s told me,” responds Dominic.
“Until now I only know of anozer woman in ze Section, no name,” says Mira dryly while gesturing with her cigarette hand. “Elvis and Dmitri I meet ‘ere. You are only a little newer to me.”
“What he said,” says Dmitri, pointing at Dominic. “And what she said,” he finishes flatly, nodding toward Mira.
Elvis adds, “Yeah, I didn’t know any real details about you until I met you.”
Dmitri and Elvis nod at each other in agreement. Then, focusing on Rebekah, Dmitri asks, “Haven’t you given Medic the crash course yet? You’ve been together for over a month already.
“At this rate he’s only going to be a liability on this mission. No offense,” he finishes with a sideways glance toward Medic.
“None taken,” responds Medic coldly. “You’re right. I barely know anything.”
He pauses to look around the table to confirm everyone’s attentiveness.
“Do you guys really believe in psychic powers? Like being able to read people’s minds, or seeing into the future, or being able to move things with your mind?”
Medic looks around the table again. This time he’s met by looks of puzzlement.
“Believe?” responds Dominic after some time. “That’s like asking if you believe that you’re sitting on a chair and having a conversation in some shit-hole guest house somewhere in Bangkok. Do you?”
“It’s real as far as I can tell,” replies Medic.
“That’s the answer,” finishes Dominic.
Mira cuts in as Medic is busy digesting Dominic’s point.
“Per’aps believe iz a problem,” she says, her words heavily saturated in French. “You want to say believe, I don’t care. I believe because I can see. And ‘ear. And touch. I believe because I am ‘ere. I believe all my life, since I was a little girl, and still today, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow…”
Dmitri leans in toward Medic as Mira trails off to take another pull on her cigarette.
With a nasal laugh he asks, “You wanna hear something funny? If you’re anything like me you’re probably going to question how the fuck you’re doing what you’re doing, as you’re doing it. It’s like, you can’t believe it. How fucked is that?”
Medic turns his attention to Rebekah. She’s still irritated but calmer.
“You already know my answer,” she states tersely.
“Okay,” says Medic, acknowledging each member of the Section with a slow nod. “I think I need to be by myself for a bit.” He stands and pushes his flimsy chair under the table. His features are impenetrable.
The group watches as he takes a determined right at the front desk and heads toward the alleyway he’d recently entered through. In a few moments, they catch a final sight of him as he disappears from beneath the stark light of a streetlamp into the shadows of Bangkok.
“Zis is, how do you say … ze dark night, yes?” says Mira after a long pause.
“Sure looks like it,” responds Dmitri with a look of concern.
Rebekah hangs her head to the side with indignation while Dominic and Elvis wear uncertainty on their faces. Only Mira sits with the same calmness as she takes a final few drags on her cigarette. Then, stubbing it out, she stands casually and follows Medic into the darkened alleyway.