by T M Caruana
Before leaving the office early, she made a point of stopping by Joanne’s desk. She had to catch her before the close of business, as Joanne was a dependable worker, but didn’t stay a minute past her paid hours. As Anne approached the sad menopausal jackal, she couldn’t help but wonder when Joanne had become so old. Her posture, which had always been proud, was now held up by being wedged between the chair’s back support, and her tummy pushed towards the edge of her desk. She never used to wear glasses, but they were now hiding the deep wrinkles around her pale eyes. The daring clothes of her younger-days had been changed for flowing dresses in what obviously was an attempt to hide her curves. Gosh, they had been working together since forever. Anne felt she would really be ungrateful to put Joanne into the death-trap competition when she had been so loyal to the organisation and was just about six months away from retiring into a relaxing life.
Anne wondered if Joanne’s old looks could have anything to do with her lack of connection to the grey alpha. Jackals weren’t highly ranked in the wolf hierarchy and didn’t thrive as well. Even though Anne was a full blood herself, she was feeling unloved by their alpha as he never showed. Paw had the perfect reputation, but no one could verify it. Dacry, the second in command, was a man she could live without. He was big on rules and thought that every grey wolf needed to contribute with active service to the pack, something Anne didn’t have time for.
“Hi Joanne,” Anne greeted and stopped in front of Joanne’s desk.
“Good afternoon, Anne,” she responded and immediately ceased her scheduling activity. “How can I help?”
“I haven’t spoken to you in a while. How’s your family?”
“Well, thank you. My youngest grandson is turning five, another one is starting university and my oldest granddaughter is getting married. Time flies.”
“Yes it does,” Anne confirmed, although she was thinking of her next question and not focusing on Joanne’s answer. “I can hear you are very busy.”
“Bound to be busy with four children and ten grandchildren. It’s not a wonder I get all these wrinkles.”
Jackals were fans of producing large litters so Anne wasn’t surprised.
“Nonsense, you still look good,” Anne complimented, as the polite etiquette instilled in her by a strict upbringing had taught her.
“And how are you?” Joanne asked, and showed her concern over the high-level meeting that had taken place during the day.
“Actually,” Anne stated and then paused. “There might be something you could help me with. A special project.”
“Really? Anything. What can I do for you?”
Anne noticed that praise lured the jackal to bite and she could tell Joanne felt empowered at having been asked by the CEO of the organisation to do something that seemed important.
“It’s highly classified. National security level classified,” Anne emphasised, and showed an invisible level with her hand in the air.
“Of course,” Joanne agreed.
“We are assessing a need for a programme that will cost a lot of money. The government is involved and I’m not convinced it will be handled correctly. I would need you to monitor it undercover and notify me if anyone is acting beyond limits.”
“Like a spy on a mission?”
“Yes, to be my spy. Can you do that?”
“Sure. Absolutely. Anything for you.”
“That’s great. That’s great,” she confirmed repeatedly, as she didn’t know how much of the bet she should tell her when trying to lure her into the game.
“What do you need me to do?” Joanne asked, after Anne had remained silent for a while.
Anne shook her head to focus on the task at hand and not let guilt eat away at her insides.
“There will be a competition, with twelve contestants who have to stay in a supermarket for as long as they can manage. The last one to surrender wins. I want you to be one of the contestants. You aren’t really, but the others will think you are. There will be a backdoor with grills over a sliding window where the contestants can send letters out to their families. Every Tuesday we can meet so that you can provide information about any wrongdoing amongst the contestants. No one should bully anyone else and no one should know that the competition has been established to assess a political project. If there’s anything out of the ordinary, you tell me, okay?”
“Oh my god. I can’t believe…yes sure…absolutely. I’ll do it.”
“You can’t tell anyone about this.”
“No, absolutely not. My lips are sealed,” she promised and made a gesture with her hand that her mouth would be zipped shut.
Anne could practically see her wagging her tail like an excited puppy.
“Here,” Anne said, as she bent down to reach for a yellow sticky note and scribbled down the details. “Be at this supermarket,” and she pointed at the address line. “After this assignment I will ensure that you can retire, so you can bring all your belongings home with you after your last day here before the competition.”
“That’s nice, thank you. I won’t fail you.”
“I’m sure you won’t,” Anne murmured, having other intentions in mind as she left for the lifts.
This project would haunt her in her sleep. It wouldn’t be only full moons that would keep her up at night in the weeks to come. Anne tried to convince herself that at least she had been somewhat truthful with her information to Joanne. At the point when the contestants realised they were all going to die inside the mouse trap, after having desired the five hundred thousand pound cheese-treat that was the winner’s prize, at least Joanne could tell them the real reason for which they were sacrificing their lives. By that time, the truth wouldn’t matter.
10
TONY GARCIA
What would a mail boy be doing in the company if he was still here at this hour? Anne pondered as the lift hit basement level. She had checked the access card and had verified that the red wolf was still in the building. The corridor to the mailroom hadn’t been locked. She walked slowly in the dark without daring to turn on the lights. She could hear voices and sarcastic laughter. She contemplated returning the following morning, yet she was curious about what activities were being conducted on the premises at this late hour. She looked at her gold watch that she had received as a sixtieth birthday present, as a combined gift from four of her closest friends. It showed six-thirty.
She lifted her nose upwards and focused on sniffing the air. She could smell a wet dog smell. There were definitely wolves here. She could scent a dingo, a grey wolf and Tony. Strange combination since dingoes were known to be untrustworthy and mainly kept to themselves. She filled her lungs once again; beer, pizza with too much cheese, crisps and sweat. She closed in on the lit-up mailroom.
As she leaned round the doorframe to peer into the staff room of the mail department she found six lads sitting around a table playing poker. They seemed to be taking the activity seriously as they had a proper green poker mat laid out with their game chips on top. On the counter there were open takeaway containers as well as empty beer bottles. The grey haired dingo boy had on a pair of sun glasses, hiding his poker face and one of the human boys was wearing a black suit with his tie loosened. The fat human directly in front of Anne, made an enormous burp that resulted in cheers from the other boys, insinuating that it had been impressive.
“Miss Knightsworth,” Jaden McRyan yelped, as he spotted Anne in the doorway.
He stood up fast and it looked at first as if he was going to attempt hiding himself and the whole of his entourage, it was obviously useless. He must have thought that she didn’t approve of the facility being used for gambling. The truth was, she didn’t care anymore.
“Hi boys,” she greeted and glanced around the table to look at them one by one.
They only murmured an acknowledgement in reply from behind their barrier of insecurity, looking as if they were wondering whether or not they would be punished. All of them worked for the organisation. She recognis
ed them all, but didn’t know their names. The boys who were wolf-shifters would know she was one too, one with high rank. The others would only respect her simply for her title as CEO. The red wolf, Tony, would obviously not respect her at all as she was from the rival pack. The feeling of dislike was mutual and that was the reason Anne had decided to choose him.
“Can I help you?” Jaden asked.
Anne thought it sounded as if Jaden was trying to get rid of her as soon as possible to carry on with their game. It looked to Anne as if he was enjoying the game, having the upper hand and was in the middle of a bluff.
Anne was surprised to be asked so bluntly, even if it did come from another full blood grey wolf. However, she had heard many rumours about Jaden’s indiscrete attempts at diplomacy.
“I wanted to speak with Mr Garcia, but I can come back tomorrow if I’m interrupting you,” she stated, and started to turn around.
“I fold,” Tony declared, and stood up to walk after Anne. “I’ll sit out the next few. Carry on until I’m back.”
Anne took note that Tony reeked of disappointment, perhaps he had made a large bet in the previous round and lost. His action insinuated that it was in his best interest to sit out a few rounds.
“What have I done now?” he asked, letting his irritation show.
He must have known that, as a red wolf, he would always be in the firing line. Anne observed his slouching posture, the careless gaze in his light brown eyes and the dragging of his shoes from not having tied them onto his feet properly. His hair had been dyed blonde and waxed to a ridiculous height and it made his ears stick out more prominently. He was chewing a gum with a wide-open mouth and didn’t at all give out the air of respect towards her that most of the other employees did. His statement also suggested he had received more than one complaint about his work ethic in the past. This one would give into any compliments, or any lies, that she would be feeding him. He would be the least sceptical of her candidates and the most cooperative, unless he found out his alpha was on the opposite team. She just had to make sure not to mention that.
“You aren’t renowned for doing a great job,” she prompted to see what he would admit to, as she had nothing concrete on him.
“So I missed delivering Mr Singer’s mail the other day and occasionally I’m late, but it’s only fucking letters, not the end of the world. It’s not like I’m earning much doing it.”
“I see. Only letters…” she repeated and thought of the irresponsible youths of today.
If this was his work ethic she wouldn’t lose much sleep removing him from FAO.
“As I am sure you understand, we can’t not receive our importantletters and that means I don’t think you should carry on delivering the mail…”
“For fuck’s sake lady. I need the money. My mum has kicked me out,” he retaliated, interrupting Anne.
“However…” Anne emphasised as she cut him short in return to show her authority. “I might have something else more suitable for you.”
“You do?” he asked, as he preened in the oval mirror just by the door, not seeming to pay Anne as much attention as she required.
“You aren’t organised, but you are street-smart. In fact, I have something that would be perfect for you.”
Tony folded his lips with his hand as if he played with them and nodded, as he agreed with Anne on her reflection.
“There’s a competition that needs that sort of street-smartstrategy,” she carried on; highlighting the words ‘street-smart’ as it seemed to have been the trigger to his interest.
“Will I get paid?”
Anne couldn’t believe how arrogant and cocky he was and felt like leaving this idiot to another fate. She took a deep breath to be able to help her stay calm. She wanted to hurry up, to settle this, so she could get home to her cats. Her Burma especially required her company more than the other two street cats.
After having explained the competition and the amount of prize money at stake, Tony looked like a completely different boy. He was eager and excited. He could have left for it there and then. As he didn’t have any commitments he could be ready immediately.
<><><>
When Anne left, Tony ran back to his colleagues who grunted at his cheering as they were completely consumed in the round up of their serious betting. Tony, who had sworn not to tell anyone about the competition, threw the remainder of his chips into the main pot in the middle of the table.
“You fuckers!” he shouted, showing his middle finger on both his hands and laughing outrageously.
“Shut up, you idiot. What happened? You fired?” Jaden questioned, the only one paying him any attention. He seemed sceptical why Anne had wanted to speak with him. That wasn’t strange as Tony also was aware that there were so many high-level meetings and whispers going around.
“Nope. And even if I was unemployed I wouldn’t suck your dick for money. See all you fuckers tomorrow,” he bellowed and was already on his way out.
11
JOLIE COBER
Jolie felt poorly. She had a cold and had called in sick. She was now lying ill, with her long legs curled up, on the sofa. She was covered in her favourite green blanket, depicting two golden retriever puppies that she had received from her late grandmother on her fifth birthday. She had not applied any make-up all day and had twisted her long blonde hair up in a bun at the top of her head. She was watching whatever was on the TV, which now showed the nine pm film. This evening it was a romantic drama. It suited her perfectly. She didn’t want to laugh too much, as it hurt in her chest when she did and she wasn’t keen on an action film with loud sound effects and a lot of flashing lights.
The film had just started when she spotted her mobile phone’s screen light up and it started to vibrate on her glass coffee table. Who would call at this hour? She looked at the screen, but it showed ‘no caller id’. It would be one of her colleagues, calling to ask how she felt, that she was sure of. If not, it could only be one of those sales people. She didn’t want to answer, but her curiosity was stronger than her fatigue.
“Hello?”
“Jolie Cober?”
“Who’s this?”
“Are you Jolie Cober?”
“Yes, speaking.”
“It’s Anne Knightsworth from the FAO.”
Blimey, Jolie thought. In a million years she would never had thought the CEO would call her.
“I hope I’m not calling at an inopportune moment. Are you available to speak?”
Jolie threw herself at the TV remote to mute the sound and concentrate on the call.
“Sure,” she answered insecurely, not having the faintest idea of the reason for the CEO’s call.
“I have seen you around the offices and have often thought you are out-of-place in such a junior role when you have such great potential.”
“You have?”
Jolie was confused, as she didn’t even think Anne knew she existed. As Jolie was half grey wolf and half jackal, other grey wolves thought she wasn’t pure enough, and other jackals thought she was too stuck up. It wasn’t easy being a mongrel. Anne never even looked up at her when she brought her tea. Anne didn’t want coffee like most others; she wanted her tea strongly brewed with one sugar and only a touch of milk. Although, most of the times Anne didn’t even finish it.
“Yes. There’s a competition coming up and I thought you would have a great chance of winning. If you are interested I will enter you?”
“Okay…” Jolie said, but was still hesitant.
Jolie found it strange that the CEO of the FAO would call her this late in the evening to personally enter her into a competition. Anne could have had assistants running her messages for her, or at least waited to have told her when Jolie brought her next tea. Although, it didn’t matter. Anne was a powerful individual both in the human and in the grey wolf community. No one would want to get on the wrong paw of her. Especially not Jolie. She was too social to ever be able to handle an exclusion from the grey wolf pack.
Jolie’s mother was the full blood grey wolf, however her father was the jackal and hence she didn’t have much status to bargain with.
“Excellent,” Anne chirped.
Anne gave Jolie all the details as well as the strict policy of confidentiality before she hung up.
<><><>
Jolie still felt unwell the following morning, but was cheerful enough after yesterday’s conversation with Anne, to drag herself into work. She wanted to gloat. She understood that she would have to quit her job to be able to attend the competition and therefore felt like playing pranks on her colleagues before she left. She wanted to make them feel as insignificant as she did when they had casually ordered her to fetch coffee, and not blinked twice if they needed to send it back; stating it tasted awful or wasn’t what they had ordered.
Jolie had no desk at the office as she was meant to run around all day taking orders. She only had a half sized blue locker. It was manky and old with crooked hoops for the padlock, which had to be forced on and off. As she was hanging up her wind jacket that she wore in springtime, Jaden showed up in the doorway of the locker room.
“Jolie, where’s my coffee? It’s nine fifteen am. I need it before my meeting at ten sharp.”
“I don’t feel like getting it today,” she stated and carried on straightening her jacket on the hook.
She saw how Jaden almost dropped his jaw. He had probably never heard of a coffee girl on strike. She also noticed that he took a whiff at her and a strange look entered his eyes. He must have discerned that she smelt differently today. It was partly the smell of a snotty nose, but he should also be able to determine a distinct smell of her new confident attitude.
