by S L Shelton
The dispatch went out moments before the gunshot. As soon as the men exited the house, he began calling his sister’s name, to no avail. She could not hear him. He heard the siren of the police car and the dispatcher in his ear saying that officers had arrived. In his other ear, he heard his sister pleading with her one true love and partner. Then the line went dead.
Mark didn’t cry; he didn’t scream. He waited on the satellite phone with the dispatcher. When she informed him that the officers just reported that the house had exploded, he calmly ended the call, walked to his bedroom, and began packing a bag.
It was a bag he had packed many times in his old life. Pants, shirts, socks, and underwear rolled tightly and stacked side by side. Then came the belts, two of them, each with integrated scabbards for knives and loops for shoulder-slung holsters. Then came the ammunition, the two matching Desert Eagle .50 caliber automatic handguns, their silencers, and extra mags.
On his way down the hall of his safe house, he opened a closet door, clicked through a layer of drywall, and retrieved a metal box about the size of a large tower computer with wheels and a collapsible handle, like carry-on luggage. He hefted his duffel bag to his shoulder, pulled the box behind him, and exited the house.
It wasn’t until he was driving down the street in his stolen black Crown Victoria that he began to cry.
Without thinking about a route, he began driving northwest…toward his sister.
**
8:30 a.m.—Reston, Virginia
When I arrived at work, there were construction workers swarming over the office like ants. Another large plastic sheet had been hung in the back of the building, separating the rest of the tech floor from the new Special Projects department being constructed.
The workers had demolished part of the dividing wall between TravTech and the adjoining suite of offices, and had begun constructing the fishbowl enclosure around the area that was still part of the regular tech area.
I had to push past the plastic to get to my office. The door was closed as were the doors of the next three offices between mine and the new hole in the wall. I opened the door to my office and found five people sitting around the room.
Storc sat on the counter on the far side of the office, Bonny in my chair with her feet up on my desk, and a tall, thin Indian man with glasses—who I recognized as Mahesh from the networking department—sat in a chair in front of my desk.
A Rubenesque Asian girl with horned-rim glasses, blond braids, a three-quarter sleeve tattoo, and multiple facial piercings sat next to him, and then there was Jo, who was on the floor next to my desk, leaning against the wall.
Bonny hopped out of my chair as soon as I came through the door. “Just warming it up for you,” she giggled.
“Good morning,” I said.
A chorus of greetings came back. I looked over my shoulder at the construction and then closed the door.
“It’s going to be hard functioning with that going on,” I continued.
Everyone lifted their voices in agreement.
“You don’t even have a cubicle anymore,” I pointed out to Jo.
She nodded her acknowledgment.
“Okay, then. Mahesh! Welcome aboard. I’m glad to have you here,” I said, shaking his hand. “You and Storc can go over to the construction area and make sure the engineer is building to our specs. Storc, I think you were copied on most of that. Right?”
“Yeah. And the specs that came down from the C…from our contract are tight. I’m liking the guy who designed the fishbowl,” Storc said, beaming.
“Yeah. I was impressed too. As for the ‘contract’, I’m pretty sure everyone here knows or has guessed it’s with the CIA. That will be common knowledge and discussion among this group. No one else in the company is to know any details about the projects we'll be working on, who we are dealing with, or the nature of our work. Not even Bernie, unless we are given clearance by Langley. Is that clear?” I said, ending my speech while staring directly at Bonny.
“What?!” she exclaimed indignantly. “I can keep a secret.”
“No, you can’t,” all the other voices in the office spoke at once.
“I’m hurt,” she whined with a mock pout.
“Bonny,” I said, letting my ire color my tone, hoping that singling her out would make an impression. “Your little conversation with Barb revealed your and Storc's involvement in the rescue.”
“Bullshit,” she blurted defensively. “Barb would never tell anyone anything I told her in confidence.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Did you tell her in person?”
“No,” she replied, clipped. “She was still in Germany. I told her over the pho—”
Realization struck her and she paused with her mouth open for a second, unable to finish her sentence.
“Yeah,” I said coolly. “Barb was on a landline at a military installation, and you were on an unsecured cell phone.”
She dropped her head as the weight of all that had resulted from her slip suddenly fell on her shoulders.
“It’s important we keep our mouths shut for many reasons. Not the least of which is our own safety.” I paused and let that sink in. “Bad guys are the kind of people who take revenge when bad stuff happens to them. If we keep our mouths shut, we're just computer people who do some work for the government. If we talk, we make ourselves targets.”
I looked around the room. The seriousness had struck a chord with everyone.
“I speak from firsthand experience. You do not want the attention of the bad guys.”
Though only Bonny and Storc had seen my wounds, the rest had no doubt heard about them. My last statement drove the point home like a hammer.
“There will be classes and assistance for all of us before we start getting Agency projects,” I continued. “They’ll teach us how to keep our mouths shut, how to work with secrecy in mind at all times, and give us instruction on the protocols that we'll come in contact with.”
Everyone nodded. I looked at the Asian blonde next to Mahesh. “I’m sorry, I’ve seen you around, but I don’t know your name.”
She stood and stuck out her hand. “I’m Anna. I’m excited to be working with you…for you. In this department.”
Bonny laughed.
“Welcome, Anna,” I said and then went around to my desk chair. “Okay. Bonny and Anna. Get with purchasing and start picking out our systems. I’ve already sent you the minimum system requirements and the software expectations. As soon as the work stations are ordered, you can get with Storc and Mahesh on the server and firewall details.”
They all nodded and then stared at me.
“Go,” I ordered, shooing them away with my hands. As they left, Jo stood and moved in front of my desk. I motioned for her to sit as I took a sip of the coffee that Bonny had made and left on the desk.
This was really good espresso.
“I’m going to need you to be our expert on Protocol and Security procedures,” I said and then waited to see if there was a response. There was none.
“I’ve sent you all the files and emails I’ve received from Langley. I need you to organize them into project lists and assign them by category. Do you know what each team member is responsible for?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I just need everyone linked into a team calendar so I can do the scheduling.”
“No problem. I’ll make sure they all transfer their company calendar entries to the team calendar as soon as it’s built.”
“It’s built,” she replied plainly. “It’s on a secure drive called TeamWolfe on the fourth floor admin server.”
“Great!” I said, impressed with her head start on things. “I’ll do my best to keep my entries up to date. But I have to admit I’m not the best at logging my comings and goings.”
“Not a problem,” she replied. “Until we get into a rhythm, I’ll just clear any schedule additions which include you before entering them.”
“Excellent,” I said, relieved by the concession. “I k
now you don’t have a work station today, so if—”
“I checked out a laptop that meets system requirements for the department. I hope it’s okay that I used your authority to do it. I figured I’d have to start project planning today.”
I had made the right choice with this girl.
“Yes. That’s fine. Good work. Take my desk and get started then. I’m going to go check the construction schedule and then meet up with Bonbon in purchasing. Do you have any special requests for hardware configuration on your workstation?”
“No. I’m fine with whatever is provided,” she said plainly.
“Okay. Help yourself to whatever you need, and I’ll check in with you later.” I felt like my team choice had been so good that I’d be out of a job until we started getting projects from the CIA.
“Is the coffee satisfactory?” she asked rigidly as I began to exit.
“You made that? I thought Bonny had. Yes. It’s great. But please don’t feel that it's part of your job description. I can make my own coffee.”
“Understood,” she stated mechanically and then paused, biting her lip.
“Something else?” I asked.
“It’s perfectly alright if you only need me during the build out phase. I'll understand,” she said, clearly worried she would be booted to the curb again at the end of the project.
Her mousy tone and withdrawn carriage seemed at odds with her direct and honest communication traits. I half-expected her to curl up into a ball after each question directed at her, but instead, she leveled her eyes, devoid of emotion, squared her shoulders and spoke clearly and plainly. “I've gotten used to being a startup specialist.”
“Jo. I’ve got a feeling you're going to be an important part of this team…well past the build out.”
She smiled. It seemed a foreign expression on her sullen face. “Thank you. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will,” I said confidently and then left, fighting my way through the plastic sheeting.
As I walked past the broken wall, I saw Storc and Mahesh going over the construction drawings with the engineer. The construction crew must have been working all night; not only was the demolition complete, they had already roughed in the bathroom and kitchen fixtures.
The CIA had insisted on autonomy from the rest of the floor, and though there was an emergency exit planned for the tech office side, the new area carved out of the adjoining office spaces would have its own secure reception area accessible from the floor lobby near the elevators. I hadn’t seen budget for reception staff, so I’d have to check on that.
After checking on the progress, I walked through the tech floor on my way to the tech locker but bumped into Bernie Evonitz. That was two times in three days—and two times more than the previous six months combined.
“Scott!” he exclaimed with a smile. “I’ve been looking for you. Your assistant said you were inspecting the construction.”
“I think I’ve bypassed the ‘assistant’ position and added a project manager slash researcher instead,” I said, warning him that I was altering the org chart a bit.
“Oh! Great! Bonny—Miss Little—suggested the project manager qualifications for your assistant anyway. She was pretty adamant that a run-of-the-mill assistant would commit suicide after a week of trying to keep up with you…her words, not mine.”
I laughed. “I think Bonny worries too much,” I replied.
A nervous expression flashed across his face for just a second and then he lowered his voice to a more concerned tone. “If you feel the operation would be better served by a researcher and project manager, that is totally up to you. We were just worried—” He seemed to have trouble finding the right words. “I just didn’t want you to get overwhelmed after your…uh—”
“It’s okay, sir,” I offered, rescuing him from his verbal stumble. “Bonny has been playing mother hen and making sure I don’t overwork myself. It’s good to be back, though. Not exactly what I expected to find, but it’s good nonetheless.”
“Good, good,” he replied supportively. “Let’s step in here and have a private word.”
We went into a small conference room. Two managers were having a meeting about performance reviews or the like. They looked up.
“Can you guys give us the room for a few minutes?” Bernie asked politely.
As they left he smiled and said thank you.
Once the door was closed he sat on the edge of the conference table.
“This new ‘Special Projects’ department is already bringing us a great deal of revenue. The contracts are written to be very generous to us,” he confided.
“That’s great! I want to thank you for giving me a shot at running it,” I expressed sincerely.
“Well, that’s the part I wanted to talk to you about,” he said cautiously. For a second I thought he had changed his mind. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Come again?” I sputtered.
“The only condition they had for the contract, other than meeting their system and protocol requirements, was that you would be the department head and that you would have full autonomy.”
I stared at him blankly.
“So I need to ask you if you are sure you are up to it.” He watched me for a moment. When I failed to come up with a response, he continued.
“Scott. I know this is a lot. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through and to come back to this mess, well, I know it’s stressful,” he said sincerely. “And if you feel this isn’t a direction you want to go, just let me know, and the whole thing stops. But I’ll be frank. The money is great, the expansion is exciting, and the board is in love with you right now. You could pretty much write your own ticket.”
“To be honest, I was caught off balance.”
He nodded his head understandingly.
“But I’ve got this,” I continued.
“Good!” he beamed, slapping me on my back, sending a twinge of pain through my shoulder exit wound. “That’s all I needed to hear. The construction crews are supposed to work around the clock until the build out is done. Your fishbowl may be ready by the time you come in on Monday.”
“That’s good news,” I said mildly.
“Yep. Now why don’t you wrap up here and head on home? No need for you to put in full days before things get off the ground. I want you to be at one hundred percent when the work starts rolling in.”
“Thank you, sir. I will,” I replied.
“Great. We’ll talk again soon,” he said and then strode out of the conference room.
The two managers who had been waiting outside came back in, smiling and nodding at me.
“Welcome back,” the female manager said, smiling shyly.
“Thanks,” I replied sincerely as I turned and left.
I met Bonny and Anna at the IT locker and assisted with the procurement list. When we were done, I texted everyone to meet across the street at the grill for lunch. Bonny, Anna, and I were there first, followed shortly by Storc and Mahesh. Jo came in a few minutes later, carrying her laptop.
I looked at her questioningly as she sat.
“Nothing sensitive on here yet,” she said preemptively, defensively.
“Okay,” I conceded, smiling. I was amused by her ‘precognitive’ powers. People had always accused me of having those traits. It was nice to be in the company of another.
“I wanted to meet down here because it’s too loud up there…and I’m hungry,” I said, starting the lunch meeting.
“I just wanted everyone to know the construction crew is supposed to be working round the clock over the weekend. We should see significant progress on Monday morning.” Bonny’s attention drifted to a TV monitor over the bar.
I turned to look as well. On CNN, there was footage from a helicopter flying over a burning house in Colorado Springs. They were night images, so it was not fresh film. A moment later, the scene cut to the ground, with police and fire officials sifting through smoldering remains in the daylight. The capt
ion on the screen read: Lesbian couple and child dead following 911 call. Arson suspected.
Another banner slid across the bottom of the screen, stating: Couple had reported vandalism and threats in prior weeks.
“Unbelievable,” Bonny muttered.
I could see anger rising in her face—we would not be having a business meeting today.
“Okay,” I said, trying to wrap it up. “Let’s just order and then head out. I’ve got a meeting at 2:00 p.m. in McLean, so I’ll be leaving after lunch.”
Everyone but Bonny picked up a menu. She had drifted over to the TV so she could hear the report. I ordered for her, knowing her usual dish.
When the food arrived, most of us ate and talked about recent goings on—the new construction, the new servers, wondering how jealous the rest of the tech division would be of our new digs. But Bonny and Jo seemed to only pick at their food, looking up occasionally to see if there were any new developments on the arson case.
When we finished eating, I paid the tab and then said my good-byes. Bonny and Jo were still distracted by the news report. I walked out, crossing the street into the garage to get my car.
On the way to my psychiatrist appointment, Barb called and asked how my day was going.
“It’s going well. They’re making a lot of progress on the construction,” I relayed stiffly.
“How are you doing?” she asked. “That’s a lot of activity for your first couple of days back.”
“I’m handling it pretty well. Lots to keep me busy.”
“That’s good. Don’t forget about your appointment,” she cautioned, sounding like my mom.
“In the car on my way now,” I reassured her, avoiding the temptation to remind her I had always managed my schedule well enough on my own.
“Good,” she said in relief. “I’ll see you when you get home.”
“…’kay,” I replied and then took the opportunity to hang up before there was an awkward pause wanting to be filled with “I love you.” This was something I was going to have to address soon. The longer Barb stayed at my house, the more she wanted to end every conversation with those words, and the more I wanted her to leave.
