The sun was just starting to set over the western horizon when the the government agent ambled into the small office of the Moore Detective Agency. The agent wore a stetson, cowboy boots, had the leathering skin of a man who lived out in the sun, and walked a cowboy's swagger. Still, Mercedes had no doubt that he worked for the government rather than one of the many local ranches. It was the combination of the man's clothes and attitude that marked him a G-man.

He wore a black suit that while well cared for was clearly getting several years old and was never of the best quality to begin with, and Mercedes suspected that if she were to look soles of the man's cowboy boots she would find holes plugged with cardboard. Despite his clear lack of wealth the man entered the office as though he and not she were its owner. In Mercedes' experience in America that sort of presumption was found in the absence of wealth only amongst agents of the government.

Wordlessly, she reached for her cigarette case and lighter.

With a policeman's eyes the agent scanned the room including the corners behind him and then walked up and stood before Mercedes desk. Taking his stetson off to reveal wavy black hair and a not unattractive face, the agent respectfully held his hat over his stomach.

"Ma'am. Miss Moriarty," the agent began. "My name Agent Reid and I represent the Federal Bureau of Investigation. On the behalf of the Bureau, I would like to retain the services of you and your partner, Dr. Wu."

"Dr. Chow," she corrected softly, letting the smoke curl out of her mouth as she did so. "In Cantonese, `Wu' is an indicator of his birth order -- firstborn -- and `Long' would be his `Christian' name if he indulged in such things."

Mercedes Moriarty leaned back in her chair, ice-blue eyes roaming over him in frank speculation. "Sit down, Agent Reid," she said, sliding the open cigarette case toward him. The Navajos and Apaches both used tobacco as a peace offering. She wondered if he knew its significance. "And tell me what the Bureau wants -- or more likely, what your boss at the Bureau told you the Bureau wants -- with Dr. Chow and me."

As requested Reid took a seat, but waved off the proffered cigarette. Her suggestion that his superior were not leveling with him, irked the agent. It was an annoyance made worse by the almost certain knowledge that it was right. He tried to not allow his annoyance to show on his face, but the hat that he had been holding before him he placed back on top of his head.

"Well, it like this," Agent Reid began.

With that, Wu Long stepped out of the shadows from the left side and behind Agent Reid. Wordlessly he walked across the office past the FBI agent in a powder blue silk suit and sat in a chair facing Mercedes to the side of Agent Reid. The slight smile on his face made him look boyish and yet there was a sense of controlled power lingering around him. He stared at Agent Reid's face for a moment as if he was assessing the man's soul and then sat back in the chair with a smile that was at once polite and yet otherwise unreadable. "Please feel free to continue Agent Reid," he said with a voice of serene strength.

At Chow's sudden appearance, Agent Reid pulled his gun on the doctor. Chuckling, he put his gun away. Upon entering the FBI agent had checked all the corners of the room including the one that the man had stepped, and he had no idea where the Chow had come from. Getting up Agent Reid walked over shake hands. "Doctor Chow, you shouldn't sneak up on people that way. Not only is it impolite, it's dangerous."

For you, Mercedes did not say.

Wu Long stood and shook hands with the agent, giving him a quick apologetic bow. Attempting not to interrupt him any further, Wu Long silently regained his seat and listened to the rest of what the G-man had to say.

"As I was getting ready to explain to your partner, Miss Moriarty," the lawman drawled, "the FBI is interested in retaining the two of you. Things have been happening here in the Four Corners' region that is of interest to the Bureau, but unfortunately with all the band robberies happening around the country and what not it doesn't have the free manpower to send to our little neck of the woods."

"So I have been authorized to put together a team to investigate things locally. I would like the two of you to be on that team, and I have been authorized to pay the pair of you two hundred dollars a month for your services. That would be two hundred a month for you to split between you however you choose to divide things."

The interesting fact about Josh Reid wasn't his vocation with the Federal Bureau of Investigations, nor that he knew of her true identity and association with Wu Long (the Bureau had known this for some time) nor his rugged good looks, nor even the good ol' boy charm he seemed to be able to turn on at will. No, the interesting fact, to someone like Mercedes Moriarty, was what he either didn't know about his new assignment, or had chosen not to reveal before making the offer.

The silence drew out for several moments while the cool blonde drew on her cigarette, exhaling slowly. It was finally punctuated by muted traffic sounds from the other side of the window, and what might have been an automobile backfiring -- or a gun shot. And Mercedes spoke.

"A retainer," she murmured, glancing at Wu Long and briefly appreciating his relaxed, confident demeanor. "That is unexpected, Agent Reid. But before I can accept or reject this unexpected offer, you must tell me what kinds of things are occurring here which the Bureau doesn't want acknowledge or become involved with officially."

The FBI agent grimaced and stood out of his chair. "I was afraid that that would a problem, ma'am. I've read enough dime store novels to know that private investigators always ask their clients what they are investigating before they take the case, but isn't how things work with the Bureau. We're not allowed to talk about current investigations with outsiders. Before I can tell item one about the investigation, you would have to be officially sworn to secrecy, and sign a bunch of papers so that if you even mumble about FBI business in your sleep the government can lock you up and throw away the key."

"Now I know that is not something that is going to be easy for you to swallow. Heck, a modern woman like you, you probably became a private investigator so you could maintain your independence. Well, I can tell you that working for the FBI is the exact opposite of independence. So, I can see why you would want nothing to do with it."

"I'm sorry to have wasted your time, ma'am, sir," Agent Reid said with a nod to Moriarty and Chow. "I will show myself out."

"Women where you come from may need you to do their thinking for them, Agent Reid, but I assure you such is not the case in this office." Mercedes tapped the ash from her smoke neatly into the tray, then inhaled from it deeply. "We're likely to get along better once you understand that fact.

"Here's another, which I deduce from the little you have said, and the much you have not said," she went on, smoke curling seductively from her nostrils, though there was still no emotion in those cold blue eyes. "You were ordered here to recruit us, even though you know my family history and feel you can't trust me out of your sight. You believe, quite correctly, that as a civilian I can't understand or respect the command structure to which you've devoted your professional life -- and yet you've been asked to recruit a whole team of civilians for an end you do not understand and which frightens you more than you might wish to admit."

The last of the smoke from the Kool rushed out her nostrils as she snorted lightly. "You're likely very good at what you do, and intelligent -- you're not frightened without reason. Still, your boss wants us on your new team. Let's pretend for a moment that he knows his business too, shall we? Talk to me, Agent Reid." Again she drew on the smoke, the pleasure from the act of it coloring her voice, the first emotion she'd shown since his arrival.

"Give me a reason to tell you `yes'."

Agent Reid dropped all pretenses of friendly and eyed Miss Moriarty with open distrust. He wasn't happy about it but he could not deny that right on all counts. However, her insight made him trust her less, not more.

With a sigh and the resignation of man forced by his wife to sell the sport car of bachelor days in favor something more practical, Josh Reid began his pitch. "Well, for one thing there is the money. I looked into before I came here and a private eye is doing pretty well to clear $800 a year. If you split it evenly what I'm offering you is twelve hundred a year. That is half over as much."

Mercedes acknowledged this with a nod, but did not interrupt.

"But money is not really motivates you, is it," the agent said as a observation not a question. "The file that I was given on you has holes in it large enough to pass the seventh fleet through, but from what is in it, it appears that you have passed money that makes $1200 dollars a year look like ditch digger wages. So money isn't your thing, but everybody has something they like and I think that you like a challenge."

Something flickered in her eyes, at that, a shadow rolling under ice, but still she did not interrupt.

"Now, I was honest. I can't tell you exactly what you will be investigating if you take this job, but I can tell you it a might more challenging than tracking cheating spouses and deadbeat loans. We'll be looking into some things that are stranger than anything that I've seen in my years with the Bureau. Heck, they are stranger than anything I have heard anyone seeing either."

"If you think that I don't trust you, think about Hoover. That man's got so little trust in him that his right foot has planted a bug his left foots shoe just so that it will know if it talks about it behind its back. So you can best believe that the man don't trust you. Still, what we are looking into has them so puzzled that the Bureau willing to put you on the payroll to figure it out. How is that for a challenge?"

OOC: Since you had a chance to respond for Chow and didn't, I'm just going to press on here....

"To the Bureau, or to me?" Once again, what Agent Reid had left unsaid told her most of what she needed to know. The rest she could deduce -- she was not unconnected in the realms which puzzled the Bureau. Reid still insisted on underestimating her, but perhaps that was for the best, for now.

She waved off the rebuttal the G-man was going to offer and went on. "I'll accept the Bureau's retainer. Dr. Chow can speak for himself, of course." Mercedes punctuated the sentence by stubbing out her cigarette in the tray.

Wu glanced to Mercedes with a brief look of disappointment before turning his attention back to Agent Reid. Ah well, Agent Reid you have been saved from that test.

"So what do you say, Doctor? Does this sound OK to you?" asked the FBI agent, trying with limited success to sound game.

With that same polite unreadable smile, Wu Long answered the agent. "I find it refreshing that at $1200, someone is willing to offer Miss Moriarty the barest fraction of her true worth as an investigator. However you seem to expect that we will divide that fee between ourselves." He paused, meeting Agent Reid's eyes with his own before continuing, "Nonetheless, I require certain supplies so that my medical expertise may successfully benefit all. Of course, you will provide those supplies and such accommodations as are necessary beyond the retainer you are offering."

Agent Reid furrowed his brow. What sort of doctor could not do math? The man spoke fine English so it couldn't be a language problem. Deciding that the Wu Long must not have been paying attention when he said that he was offering them $200 a month to split amongst themselves, the g-man explained, "No, you would getting $2400 over the course of a year to divide between you. It is $1200 each if you divide it equally, but I don't know what yours and Miss Moriarty's arrangements are. That is between the two of you."

And will remain exclusively so for eternity, Agent Reid. Wu Long thought.

"Now with regards to supplies and accommodations while traveling and such, just hold onto your receipts. You can hand them into the Bureau's bean counters, and if they agree that the expense was necessary, they will pay you back the money you spent. You got to be careful though cuz their idea of necessary not always like everyone else's. That why when I shoot a bank robber, I make sure that I only shoot him once. I can never be sure if they will be willing to pay for a second bullet," joked the g-man.

Wu Long broke eye contact with the FBI agent. Dr. Chow's disappointment with him was evident in his expression and voice, "I see. It is a poor warrior that faces battle unsure that he will have the resources he needs to win, Agent Reid. How fortunate then, that some of us will not depend upon bullets to successfully face our opposition. Indeed, as a true physician, it is also fortunate that I will not be limited by an abacus and ink to determine the value of a man's life or his health."

"I was just making a little joke about the second bullet," confided the g-man. "Apparently a very little one at that. Also, I don't go around shooting bank robbers all the time either. That was part of the joke too. Just thought you should know that so you don't get the wrong idea about things."

"As for the amount of my retainer, I apologize for my misunderstanding. I find myself too familiar with this nation's common social tendency to undervalue those whose ancestors were not from Europe." At that he paused and then regarded the agent with a warm smile. "It is refreshing to meet an American who sees beyond such limitations. I will accept your offer as well."

"Well that's real good," agent Reid said without much conviction. "I'll go to my office, it's just a room at the local sheriff's office, and put together the necessary paperwork and send it out to you two today. You can fill it out and send it back at your leisure. You will also need to swear some stuff in front of a judge, but you can do that later with the others that are going to be in our little hunting expedition."

Mercedes sat with her pale hands folded on the desk and wondered if the man knew how much information he was telegraphing with his vocal inflections and body language. It marked him as an honest man, for whatever that was worth. The American Southwest was full of honest men, in that regard -- even the criminals were open about it.

"Very well, Agent Reid. Dr.Chow and I are currently engaged in a case to find a missing Chinese girl -- Arizona Chen, in the unlikely event the great white fathers have deigned to notice her disappearance -- but should have a resolution in a few days' time. Will we be meeting the rest of your civilian team before our appearance before the judge?"

"Maybe, some of them," replied Agent Reid. "Probably not others Some of the members of the team have longer trips to get to Phoenix than others."

Seeing that Miss Moriarty and Dr. Chow had no further questions for him, at least none that they believed he would be willing and able to answer, Agent Reid said his farewells to the detectives and left. Next on his agenda was trip to the county jail to talk to a carny.