Chapter Text
Sasha felt like her mind was constantly racing. Ever since that fateful day last week, when a seemingly simple curiosity had led them to a deep well of mysteries and connections. Sasha was used to this kind of interest. She had even looked into some different types of neurodivergence because she related so much to their descriptions of hyperfocus and special interests, but she'd been unable to get any sort of diagnosis.
Point was, Sasha was incredibly curious about this, to the point she struggled to have normal conversations about anything else. She was always turning the pieces over and over in her mind, trying to find new configurations, connect seemingly unrelated pieces, or trying to find new pieces entirely. Currently she was considering the Lukas family's possible motivations for funding the Daedalus project while absentmindedly sorting and reshelving files.
She was trying to do her work, despite how little motivation she had for it. She'd always been one of the hardest workers, whether it was Artefact Storage or Research. She had started out that way when she was transferred to the Archives too, determined not to be disheartened by the fact she was now the assistant to someone who, regardless of how much she liked him, was far less qualified than her. Recently though, she had lost her motivation. The idea of a promotion, of getting out of the Archives, was just gradually getting less appealing somehow.
Besides, being less interested in a promotion meant less hard work, less overtime, and more time to sink her teeth into this wonderful mystery. Sasha knew Tim was at his desk, digging away in Manuela Dominguez's files, trying to find information. How exactly she knew that wasn't clear to her, it was just a strong hunch.
Speaking of Manuela, Sasha was trying very hard not to think about what they were planning to do after work today. If she did, she would be rendered entirely incapable of focusing on her work. Or anything else for that matter. Sasha forced her mind back to files in her hands with a deep, controlled breath. There was no need to panic. Sure, the plan was reckless, and despite their best efforts they had no clear idea of what they were getting into, but it was worth it. If they got even a single answer, if they moved even a centimeter closer to the truth, it would be more than worth it.
Being in the dark about anything had grated at her mind for as long as she could remember, but never quite like this. It felt weirdly physical, a force compelling her to seek the truth. And Sasha was more than willing to let it tug her along.
As lunch approached, Sasha returned to the bullpen, to see that a hot cup of tea was already sitting in her desk. Martin seemed to have some sort of sixth sense telling him when to start brewing so it would be done and waiting when she returned. How he did it she had no idea, but she certainly wasn't complaining. "Thanks Martin" She said as she sat down, wrapping her hands around it's comforting warmth. Martin looked up from his desk long enough to smile and nod at her, but quickly returned to his work.
This was why Sasha had decided to sort files today. With all of them absorbed in their own research, work had started to pile up a bit. At first, Martin had been the only one trying to do something about it. It was clearly overwhelming him and Sasha felt bad about it. So she spoke to Tim and got him to agree to start doing his work again. He wasn't happy, but he agreed as long as she did the same.
And so it came to be that all three were working their whole lunch break to catch up with everything they had let lie in their initial frenzy. Sasha was admittedly using it to distract herself from their plan, but she also knew that if they wanted this to be sustainable, they needed a work-search balance. They would have access to much less information if they were demoted or fired.
Between the work that no longer interested her in the lightest and the building anticipation, it felt like an eternity had passed before the clock struck 5 pm. As soon as she could, Sasha shot to her feet and began to pack up her things. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Tim and Martin doing the same. They were out the door in record time, and making for the tube station with single minded focus. There was no room for hesitation now. We really are doing this, aren't we? Sasha thought wildly.
It felt like they traveled in a haze. Sasha welcomed the feeling. She felt like if she thought too hard about what they were about to do, she would pull the plug on the whole operation last minute, and they couldn't afford to back out when they were so close to real answers.
They left the station in a single file line wit Sasha in front, squinting against the rare sunlight. She spotted Manuela almost immediately. Seeing her in pictures was nothing like the real thing. She was tall, and looked to be in her late 30's. She was pale and grown haired, with sharp features, and hurried, choppy movements. She looked like she was in a rush, and Sasha suddenly faltered, unsure how to approach her.
In the end, it was Tim who bit the bullet, and began moving towards her. "Excuse me! Are you Manuela Dominguez?" The woman stopped and turned, regarding the three of them critically. "I am. What do you want? im in a hurry." To Sasha's surprise, Martin spoke up. "We're looking for someone, and we thought you might know where to find her. Annabelle Cane?"
A look of well-hidden surprise flashed across her face before she composed herself. "What business do you have with miss Cane?" Martin fidgeted, looking perfectly apologetic about keeping her waiting. "That's what we're a bit unclear on. We were supposed to meet with her to clear some things up, but it's been planned for a long time you see, and in that time we sort of... lost track of the address, and we don't have her number." Martin rubbed his neck, appropriately embarrassed. "Can you help us out?"
Manuela scrutinized all three of them closely for a tense minute before speaking. "If you don't even have her number, how did you know where to find me, or what i look like? Did she not plan for something like this? And why wouldn't she give you her number?" Martin floundered for a moment. when Tim opened his mouth to speak, Manuela raised her hand sharply, making him audibly snap his mouth shut. Her gaze flicked between them one more time before they widened slightly. "You're with the Archivist, aren't you?"
Tim hesitated. "...Yes?" There was silence for a moment, before she broke out in a sharp smile. "Why didn't you just say that? Follow me, we'll find a bench or something." Manuela suddenly spun on her heel and set up a brisk pace in the direction of a small park across the street. The three assistants followed her, after pausing to share an equally bewildered and nervous glance.
After a few minutes of walking, they found two benches in a secluded area of the park. "So, you wanted to contact Miss Cane, right? I'm afraid i don't have her address, or even her number, but i know someone who does. Don't know all that much about him, he's closer to your lot than mine, but i can vouch for his manners at least." She seemed to talk with the same efficient speed with which she moved, and Sasha's mind was swimming trying to process all the implications and changes to their network her words brought.
"Thank you, really. what's your friend called?" Martin broke the silence, puling her out of her mind. "It's no problem. His name's Mike. Mike Crew, not Salesa, in case you've met him." She quickly pulled a scrap of paper and a pen from her purse, jotting something down before hand it to Martin. "Here's his address. It's a bit far, but nothing too unreasonable i hope. it's been a while since I've been in London, so I'm not as familiar with the place as i used to be." She waved a dismissive hand as she spoke, her voice light and casual. Sasha could see no trace of the religious fanatic praying for the end of light they had glimpsed in her statement.
"Really? Where have you been, if i may ask?" Tim asked, trying to hide his eagerness in the face of more potential information. Luckily, Manuela seemed entirely at ease. "Oh, I've been working on a project in a small town in Svalbard, called Ny Aalesund. We wrapped up last week, and i just got home two days ago. I'm afraid i can't say much more than that though."
Sasha tried not to let her disappointment show. at least the project in Svalbard was a solid lead. Besides, they had a new person to look into now! One they had the address of and a solid excuse to talk to! With any luck he'd give them Annabelle Cane's number, and then they'd have even more to go off of. This whole thing was feeling more and more solvable by the minute. She felt so close to a revelation it left her dizzy, and she Knew that Tim and Martin felt it too. They were on the verge on some massive breakthrough, it was so close she could taste it. "I assume you're joining the Archivist at the meeting next month? You'll see Miss Cane there, if you can't reach her sooner, not to mention everyone else. It'll be nice to know someone other than just me in advance though, so i suggest you reach out to Mike anyways. He really is a good lad, if a bit eccentric. If you want more info about him, you can ask your Archivist"
Sasha was itching to ask about this meeting, but she got the impression they were already supposed to know about it, and she didn't want to risk blowing their cover. Luckily, Tim and Martin seemed to have gotten the same idea, and didn't ask any questions about it either. They exchanged some more pleasantries, Tim got her number, and they apologized for holding her before going their separate ways.
They exchanged looks of shocked excitement as they walked, careful to be well out of Manuela's earshot before speaking. "I can't believe than actually worked!" Tim crowed, with a laugh so light it was almost a giggle. "We have so much new info! Salesa's name, Mike's address, Manuela's phone number, a project in Svalbard, some big meeting next month, a way to properly connect Annabelle Cane to the bigger picture, and confirmation that Jon is involved and in the know! Manuela implied he's connected to Mike Crew."
As Tim finished, he abruptly deflated a little. He had seemingly forgotten, in his excitement, that Jon was a part of this. "It's weird that Jon never talks about any of this, right? Sure, the Church's beliefs are unorthodox, but this doesn't seem to be just about that, and if he is friends with all these people, why never mention them, even in passing? I get that he's private, but not letting slip he has plans with someone on Friday even once in literal years?"
"This whole thing has really made me wonder how well i know him after all. I mean, i thought we were pretty close, but i also kind of thought me and you were his only friends." Tim finished his speech, looking worriedly at Sasha. She couldn't help but share his concerns. While it was easy to get caught up in the thrill of the mystery, she could never quite put Jon's part in all this out of her mind. He was definitely connected to it somehow, but beyond possibly being a friend of Mike Crew and knowing about the Peoples Church, they had no idea how he fit into it, and it nagged at her like a mosquito bite.
She was growing more and more willing to risk her job and just straight up ask him about it. The only thing holding her back was the knowledge that she'd be risking Tim and martins job too, not just her own, and she couldn't do that to them. He tried to hide it, but Sasha could tell how much Martin deeded this job. So, she bit her lip around him, and tried to keep her burning curiosity in check, if only for their sake. It was getting more and more difficult to ignore the urge though, and she could only hope these new leads would tide her over for a while before she did something stupid like confront him, or worse, Elias.
She could tell Tim wanted to talk to him too, albeit for different reasons. She was honestly unsure how Martin felt about it. He hadn't known Jon before they were transferred to the Archives, but he seemed to look up to him, despite how unfairly Jon treated him sometimes. To be fair, Jon had eased up a little bit as he settled into his role and gained some confidence, but he was far from friendly, and he had yet to apologize.
As they walked, Sasha became aware of a gnawing in her stomach. More time must have passed than she realized. She was about to suggest that they stop at a cafe or something, nut Tim beat her to it. "You guys wanna talk about all this over dinner? There's a restaurant just across the street there, and I'm hungry." Sasha nodded. "Suits me just fine, i was actually about to suggest it myself." Martin also agreed, and they soon settled down and placed their orders.
"So what do you want to discuss first? The Ny Aalesund Project?" Tim asked, as soon as the water was out of earshot. Sasha shook her head. "I'm more immediately interested in the meeting next month. The Ny Aalesund Project is already over. This meeting hasn't happened yet. Who do you think will be there?" Martin considered it for a moment. "We know that Annabelle, Jon, Mike, and Manuela will be there. She made it sound like common knowledge. If it's such a well known event, it's probably a big deal, maybe some sort of annual meet-up?"
Tim nodded absently, apparently lost in thought. Sasha also agreed with his assessment. With the way Manuela spoke about it, it did seem like a similar arrangement to the Institute Fundraiser Ball. "I wonder if the Lukases, or the Fairchilds or Elias will be there. It seems likely. Maybe i could find an invitation somewhere in their e-mails?" She wondered out loud. She had tried to go through their e-mails before, but had been unable to find anything interesting. Now that she was looking for something specific, instead of just aimlessly searching, she had higher hopes of a result.
After that, Sasha honestly lost track of time. They were sat there for a while, discussing theories, making and discarding plans, and fitting their new info into a rough, generally agreed upon shape. By the time she got home it was dark outside, and she struggled to remember how exactly she ended up back in her flat. She all but collapsed into bed, hoping it wasn't too late at night. She had work in the morning, after all.