Since the incident with the lasso-wielding female, Agent Barnes had been quiet. He didn't want to risk his position any further, and Agent Jefferson had been clearly agitated by the way he handled the female. But the incident was over, the threat not present, and Agent Barnes had done nothing to incite the rage of his handler. Had he?
No use dwelling. Agent Barnes was due for more programming, and Agent Jefferson had made it clear that it was going to be soon. That someone was coming to do the programming.
He'd been told to wait in the living room, so Agent Barnes waited. He sat, with his shoulders straight and back against the couch's backrest. And he waited. He was good at waiting. Waiting was something he could do without needing to know what was expected of him, because what was expected was that he simply exist in one spot. And they would get him when they were ready.
The knock at the door brought two men in. One of them was young, dark-haired--Loki, if his handler was correct. The other was Barton, the incompetent agent who turned out to be an unhandled asset. The other man must be a technician. Agent Barnes sat up straighter.
He almost said, don't you need the chair? But they knew their business better than he did. So he just stared at Loki like he was a viper ready to strike at any moment. "Is he the technician?" he asked, addressing the question to Agent Jefferson without removing his eyes from Loki. Or was he another threat Agent Jefferson didn't see as a threat?