Magic World (working title): Chapter 11 part 6

As she walked along the row of storage units she decided, based on the reaction from the Boy in Blue at the gate, to go ahead and undo one more button on her shirt, and to pull out the mirrored "cop" sunglasses. 'Might as well do the thing right,' she figured. She rounded the corner, and started heading toward the small knot of agents, who were looking around, taking notes and pictures. Special Agent Albertson stood with his arms crossed, collectively looking over everyone's shoulders. He seemed to register her approach, but didn't look in her direction until she was already standing a few feet away, her badge already out and open.

"Senior Agent Olivia Burnham, Anti-Terrorism Unit. Are you Special Agent Albertson?" her badge was visible for the appropriate length of time, before she closed it and put it back into her pocket.

The Very Special Agent looked at her without recognition at first, then in mounting confusion.

"Wait a second," he said. "Aren't you th-"

"No," she said flatly. "And I'm certainly not here to interfere with your investigation either." She pulled off her sunglasses, and gave him a little smirk. "I'm just here to confirm my assertion that this explosion has nothing to do with the Goatshead Motorcycle club." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "They've been running guns and munitions through this area for some time, and something like this?" She shook her head. "Not their style. But you try telling the talking heads in DC that. It's like they think they know your job better than you do, am I right?"

Albertson was starting to recover now. His face was turning red, and he said, "What do you think you're doing? This isn't some game, you can't just march in here and st-"

"Let me just stop you right there Albertson. This doesn't have to turn into a Jurisdictional issue. The Goatsheads are only terrorists in a technical sense, and they're my primary focus. How about we just agree, I won't step on your dick, you don't step on mine. Mmkay?"

Some of the younger agents smirked and chuckled at that, but Albertson was working his way toward Magenta with a slow inevitable pressure. He stepped closer and poked a finger into her chest, saying in a low menacing voice. "I don't know what you think you're playing at, but this is an FBI investigation, now you might think you're hot shit just because you're in the C-"

Rachele's hand shot out and grabbed his outstretched hand, and exerted a fair to moderate amount of pressure on folding down his thumb, mid-knuckle. She put her other hand on is shoulder and smile amicably.

"I think I mentioned waterboarding and treason charges, if you ever brought that up again," she said very quietly. "Don't have any illusions about this. I will dislocate your thumb in about three different places, and it will hurt far worse than anything except a kick in the nuts, but not by much." She squeezed slightly and pain flooded his face. "Now, I suggest you tell them that we have a history or something, so that you don't look like a total douche. Mkay sweety?"