Silenced: Chapter 7, Part 2: Nobody Likes Paul
Am I a bad and horrible person for being amused by the fact that nobody wants Paul around?
The awesome Chief Marcello takes Paul to a meeting with all the detectives of whom she is in charge. Yanno, the people who have been doing actual work while Paul has been eating sammiches and playing Super Pretend Spy with Straight.
In one of the few moments of actual realism in this series, the detectives are singularly unimpressed with Paul. I wish it was awesome, but it’s all fairly dull. Paul almost seems vaguely on the edge of realizing that these people are doing something of value, and he is not…
Imagine if they knew he was also there to connect with the underground, and not for the purpose of arresting believers.
Hey, jerk, you’re there to track down a terrorist, not to arrest believers.
Imagine if they knew he was there on the international government’s dime to hang out with friends and be “encouraged,” not to help solve the hundreds of murders and devastating loss of art, animals, and national monuments.
After the ridiculous meeting that accomplishes nothing for anybody, Paul is chauffeured to his hotel and left to his own devices. I guess they figure he’ll get around to tracking down the terrorist when he feels like it.
Paul ruminates on “the depressing state” of Paris, which is interesting in two respects. One, he is not ruminating on the horrific loss of life of the biggest terror event in his lifetime. And B, I would think that any city that suffered such a blow would be in a “depressing state,” notwithstanding the unChristian tattoo parlors.
He is so sad that he calls Straight. But Straight only wants to continue their game of Most Secretest Spies in the World:
“We’re getting word to your contact that you’re in the city,” the older man said. I’ll get back to you with instructions. Tell me something about his name that assures me you remember it.”
Enzo Fabrizio. “His first and last names start with consecutive letters of the alphabet.”
LOOK, you idiots, either the skull phones are secure or they’re not. If they are, just ask him the guy’s name. If they aren’t, you shouldn’t be talking about this at all.
Worst spies ever.
“Tell you one thing. I’m getting a lesson in what’s happening to me here.” [said Paul]
“How’s that?” [asked Straight]
“This is the kind of place that would have turned my head not that long ago.”
“You’d be tempted, you mean?”
“This all disgusts me. I mean, I can tell I’m different at home. Even Jae sees it. But I didn’t know how I’d do in this situation—away, alone, homesick. That would have justified a lot of mischief in the past.”
Yeah, before his conversion, Paul was an arrogant serial cheater. Excuse me…he engaged in “mischief.” And now, he’s a prudish little prig.
What a difference.
“Don’t get overconfident now, Paul. You’re still a man.”
“A lustful male, you mean.”
“That’s what I mean.”
“Pray for me.”
“Oh, what are you saying, Straight? That I need constant prayer? Thanks a lot, dipshit.”
It’s also lucky that women never feel lust. Because God didn’t design them that way.
And Paul indulges in some not-at-all-self-involved speculation about NPO International:
Part of him wanted to believe that everyone at every level in every country still saw him as a top, crack, loyal agent. But he wasn’t that naïve.
After all, Paul wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that everyone at every level in every country knew about him, let alone had a high opinion of him.
Even if they weren’t onto him yet, he had to live as if they were.
Oh. Never mind. Guess they do all know about a random agent out of Chicago.
And I’m sure he’s the kindest, bravest, warmest, most wonderful human being they’ve ever known in their lives.