The Spy

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Three of us quit that day. It wasn’t enough. The mission went ahead as planned, to depressing, terrific success.

I don’t know why I stayed. Victor’s intel was good. We all knew it. There was no redeeming quality to the mission- not anymore, anyway. Any sort of excuse or justification that we had been desperately clinging to for dear life vanished in an instant, and we were forced to stare directly into the face of truth. A feverish denial, that of someone trying to escape a cage of their own creation rose among the team, but it was as quickly dispelled as it was summoned. Then silence, Then the resignations. I remember opening my mouth to do so as well, but no sound came out. And so, as my friends left, I went to sweet, blissful work.

The night I came home, Peter looked me in the eye and I could tell he just knew. The exchange was silent; all of the requisite words had already been said, again and again and again and again.

quit

I can’t quit I need to take care of you and Cira

do that in literally any other way. Please. You’re killing yourself

I can’t do anything else

Robert Castelle García. The person I married is the most skilled, creative person I’ve ever met. Are you him or not?

I don’t know anymore

He sighed and begun our regular ritual. Alcohol went down the drain, the TV and internet services were canceled, and mobile devices were disposed of, and off we were to the races once again.

“Why? And don’t give me that ‘Take care of the family’ bullshit” He said as we laid awake in bed a couple weeks later.

“Please don’t hate me”

“I could never hate you”

“I.. I don’t know. I know the consequences of my actions. For us, for Cira, for untold numbers of people. Even before this mission I knew, deep down. But I keep going anyway.” I choked back a sob “What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey hey hey, I’m here.” We hugged for a long moment. “Do you think your life would be better or worse if you quit?” He asked. I paused for what seemed like an eternity.

“I can’t imagine my life… me without it. It’s like asking a painter to give up painting. What the fuck do you expect them to do?”

“Live?”