Chapter Text
“She is not prepared. She isn’t.”, Delphine said, decidedly. Her tone was pointed but she didn’t seem to actually entertain the idea. Her resolution was accompanied by a distant look in her eyes, as if the whole conversation was broaching a hypothetical subject rather than the woman she could see through the glass in the interrogation room, right in front of her eyes.
“She will receive the complete training, like all of us did. Like you did.”
Delphine was still largely unfazed and thoroughly disinvested until S spoke again, at her right, hovering slightly behind her like a shadow:
“Since we are pressed by time and certain other factors afferent to the mission in discussion, however, I will have you personally responsible for Agent Niehaus’ training process, effective now.”
Delphine turned sharply from where she was facing the glass to stare at her superior’s profile, eyes widened fractionally. “With all due respect, ma’am, I believe that the Training Department is better suited for such a task, seeing as I have no previous experience in mentoring.”
S didn’t turn to look at her. “Oh, but you do, Agent Cormier.”
Delphine swallowed, her shoulders tense under her suit jacket. “Hardly. What ha-”
“Nevertheless,” S interrupted unhurriedly, “Of course, miss Niehaus will be subjected to all of the range of training programmes under the Training Department, but, as I mentioned, you will oversee her performance and intervene to improve it whenever necessary with diligence. I expect nothing less from you, Agent Cormier.”
Delphine’s mind ran idly through the implications of S’ words, pondering, deciding what feasible opportunity she could muster in order to object successfully. Delphine didn’t like how little she knew about the situation, and she certainly wasn’t revelling in the fact that she couldn’t figure out the reason behind her being assigned such an odd task. But, as it was the case with everything in the SIS, asking questions was ineffective and likely dangerous to one’s person unless they were visibly task-oriented and very precise and specific. At the moment, Delphine decided that, since the questions she had at the front of her mind were requiring rather abstract answers, which S rarely provided, she would wait until prompted to speak again.
Of couse, she could pose the questions that were expected of her, or rather, not of her, personally, as Agent Delphine Cormier, but of any agent in her position. When will I start the task? Will I be tasked with overseeing the full protocols involved in the introductory phase of Agent Niehaus’ training? When am I scheduled to meet in person with Miss Niehaus and what is my official status that I should present to her? Those questions she would most likely receive an answer to immediately, but they would come on their own at some point, without prompting, either via paperwork she can already foresee herself going through all night, or via S or one of her assistants, in person. She felt like sighing, in all honesty, at the very moment, but there is very little she allows herself to display, even within the secure halls of the MI6 headquarters. It’s a very valuable automatism and, sometimes, she finds that actual display of genuine reactions or emotions is quite draining and difficult to maintain over extended periods of time. Thankfully, Delphine doesn’t find herself very often in such situations, when her genuine opinions and, God forbid, feelings, should come to surface to serve her any purpose.
Her shoulder length, light blonde hair draped across the padded shoulders of her jacket as her head turned back to look through the glass. This time, she looked, really looked, at the person in front of her. The woman sat at the table, her forearms against the surface, and she appeared to be reading through some files, a patient and somewhat interested expression on her face. Delphine couldn’t quite trace her eyes, as they were partially obscured by the thick black frames of her glasses, and mentally, Delphine asserted that those glasses wouldn’t do any longer, not if this young woman would indeed undergo training to become and Intelligence Officer any time soon. Her body language wasn’t guarded at all, but Delphine couldn’t help but notice with a tinge of frustration that her relaxed pose and attentiveness to the paperwork didn’t give out much information. Not about her, not about the situation, not about what she did or didn’t know about the situation. She could know nothing more than Delphine herself, or she could know the whole meaning behind their supposed future interaction. Likely, she was in the dark about it too, Delphine thought. Why shouldn’t she be?
So no valuable clues to be gathered by studying the subject, Delphine concluded. Fine. She continued to take in her outer appearance routinely for a little longer, without much interest. The woman was wearing her black hair in dreadlocks, which, Delphine had to admit, looked quite tasteful on her, and behind her prominent glasses, she wore consistent eyeliner. Her clothing style seemed to revolve around etno motives and warm colours. Everything about her appearance, Delphine noted, was impossibly striking. That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.
“A detailed file containing your objectives and tasks within this appointment is already on your desk, Agent Cormier.” S said. “As general guidelines, I can tell you now that I want this girl on duty by the end of the month. I trust you to make sure that when the date on the calendar comes, she will be in the best shape humanly possible. You will receive reports every two days from her training supervisors on her physical and theoretical practice, and you will study them carefully and intervene where the training is less successful. While the physical and theoretical aspects of miss Niehaus’ preparation will be covered traditionally, I would like you to see to the practical approach personally. That includes counterintelligence, interrogation techniques in full, profiling, data extraction. You will teach her personally these things. This is why I want you. There is not much time. You will have to compress all you know and deliver it to her, and very soon. ”
Delphine’s glance froze on an unidentified point in the interrogation room, as she listened. “Alright.” She said as an acknowledgement. That was strange. Training typically takes much longer than that, and for good reason, which led her to believe that Agent Niehaus might not be a complete stranger to the field, after all. “Will I meet with her now?”
Her accent thickened without her notice but it gave off the right vibe. She wasn’t as much unsettled as she was annoyed and distrustful. Annoyed at how little her input seemed to matter to S at the moment, what with all “I want her under your supervision because I trust you can do it”, annoyed at the breach in conduct that seemed to happen right under her nose, and annoyed because S wasn’t even acknowledging it as such. S gave out nothing, as if daring Delphine to overstep and ask: why? Why any of this? But if anything, Delphine knew it wasn’t worth it.
“No.” S said simply, apparently somewhat lost in her own thoughts. But not overtly. Never overtly. It wasn’t becoming of the Chief of the State Intelligence Service to outright zone out so casually. Suddenly, S turned slightly to watch her, in expectation of Delphine’s surprised comment, pinning her with an assessing look. Delphine was familiar enough with the determined set of her jaw and cold, hard gaze not to take it personally. She played along, seamlessly.
“No? I believed this is why I’ve been called here. I thought perhaps I was going to interview her myself, right now.” she said, risking a guess, making the presumptuous remark that Cosima Niehaus was in the interrogation room awaiting an interview. S didn’t comment on it.
“No. Read your paperwork, agent Cormier.”
Realizing she’d been dismissed, Delphine looked once more at the figure sitting at the table on the other side of the glass. She seemed to have finished with the paperwork and was now looking around the sterile room. Delphine looked at her just as she was pushing her glasses further on the bridge of her nose. Another habit she’ll have to get rid of, Delphine couldn’t help but notice.
She muttered her farewell to S and headed for the door, eager to read the report and get a clearer picture.
“Delphine”, S called. Delphine only turned her head slightly and slowed her pace as S continued, “considering this a favour you’re doing for me.”
Delphine only nodded and exited the room, refusing to think of what it meant when S needed a personal favour.