by Ethan Cross
Ackerman cocked an eyebrow. “Is there any other kind of beauty?”
Stepping out of the elevator, Carter said, “All of the work you requested on your office is complete.”
Ackerman fell in beside the senior agent.
Carter continued, “I agreed to the requests on your office and on your name change. And don’t forget that I also agreed to allow you to keep your scars as long as they stay properly covered. But I’m not sure on your plans for living quarters, especially with you having a dog down here.”
Ackerman looked up and down the half-finished, half-concrete, all-dreary tunnel through which they were walking and said, “Do you truly believe Theodore is the only so-called animal down here? Honestly, Samuel, what’s the situation with the decor? Do you have real people down here or am I the only one?”
Carter didn’t break step. “You’re not the only one. It’s under renovation. It will be quite nice once it’s done. Don’t change the subject. I can’t have you living out of your office.”
“My brother did.”
“That was a different world.”
Ackerman said, “You’re a very attractive man, Samuel. Do you hit the gym often? You appear to be in the physical condition of a man half your age.”
Deputy Director Carter replied, “Yes, I do. Thank you for noticing. Now, back to the matter of your quarters. I can’t have you living, working, showering, taking a dog on walks, and I don’t know what all situations are gonna come up…but I can’t have you living down here, Frank.”
“There are ample showers in the gym. There’s a cafeteria and other eating establishments within walking distance. And you need not worry about my associate, Theodore. He’s quite well behaved and trained,” Ackerman said, referring to the Shih Tzu that Emily Morgan had given to him before her departure from the Shepherd Organization.
Gesturing to their surroundings, he added, “Has Theodore caused a problem of some sort? Has someone down here in the dungeon complained?”
Carter turned the corner without breaking stride. “Don’t be a smartass, kid.”
“I mean if some of your other agents or assets are complaining that I have it too cushy, perhaps we can—”
Carter stopped and interrupted with, “What about that American Indian girl that keeps flying across the country to see you? Don’t you think she would like to be able to meet up at a nice apartment with a kitchen and dining room?”
“She stays at a hotel, and I’m afraid that—even if I were to be here long enough to require living quarters for entertaining guests—she would find them neither comfortable nor accommodating. The hotel works out just fine.”
Carter shook his head and raised his hands in surrender. Then, continuing down the concrete hallway, they reached a nondescript door that had once been a large storage room. Ackerman had converted it into his perfect living and working quarters. He noticed a newly-installed gold name plaque beside the door. “Franklin Stine” it said in large black letters embossed into the gold. Below that there was an inscription that read, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”
Ackerman grinned broadly and said, “Good work on the plaque. The second line is a quote from Dante’s Inferno. I have a feeling that I’ll smile every time I see it.”
Carter said, “I hope you like your new office. I worked hard on it. Well, not really. I just passed your requests on to some asswipe junior agent and he did the rest, but I worked hard for many years to get to the point of having asswipe junior agents to do things for me, so…”
Ackerman opened the door and was immediately greeted by Theodore. He leaned down and rubbed the dog’s ears. Then he began whispering affirmative sayings to his small companion. After the obligatory greeting, he stood back up and surveyed his new domicile. The walls were completely black, a special paint that he had requested. The floor was concrete beneath, able to support more weight than he would be able to load into the room, even with its ample size. Not that he planned to fill the space with anything besides what was already there: a stack of files, a bed for Theodore, and a litter box in the corner.
Carter cocked an eyebrow and said, “You trained him to go in that?”
“That’s correct. Theodore defecates into the box for easier waste disposal.”
The black and white Shih Tzu barked up at them. Ackerman looked down and said, “Yes, I know. You do an excellent job, sir.”
A self-satisfied smile that Marcus—had he been present—would’ve described as a shit-eating grin sat on Carter’s face. With a chuckle, Carter said, “I don’t understand the carpet. I thought you preferred concrete.”
“It’s for Theodore’s benefit. The bare floor hurts his paws, but as I see, you followed my instructions and the padding doesn’t reach all the way to the edges.”
The entire carpeted area was one large section, separated from the wall by two feet on every side. This allowed the carpet to easily be rolled up, if he so desired.
Ackerman said, “Well, everything seems to be in order. So, if you don’t mind, I’ve been running on fumes over the past week’s investigation, and I would love to get some rest.”
“You don’t get off that easy,” Carter said. “What about Agent Klein?”
“He was an idiot. I’m not sure how else to describe him. Skittish, perhaps. He was overly skittish. And I told you, I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Your partner is not there to babysit you, Frank. He’s mainly there to help deflect the local authorities and all those people whom you refer to as ‘normals.’”
“I appreciate the concern, but I do just fine on my own.”
“It was part of the terms of our agreement. It’s nonnegotiable. And now, I’m going to have to find another agent to tag-along with you.”
“You will, of course, do as you wish, Deputy Director.”
“What about your brother and his boy? It’s been a long time since they’ve heard from you. You sure you don’t want to reach out?”
Ackerman tried not to think too often of his brother and nephew. There was work to be done, and the work he did ensured their safety. Matching Carter’s gaze, he said, “It’s not time yet. My brother coming into my life has been such a benefit to me that I often forget how much of a burden I’ve been to him. He belongs on that ranch, and I derailed his life and sent him on a rollercoaster ride of pain and despair. I thought that I could protect them and be with them, but I was wrong. I no longer desire those kinds of attachments and responsibilities.”
Carter nodded his head and looked to the floor. “I understand where you’re coming from, and I appreciate the dedication to your work, but family makes us stronger, not the other way around. And I’ve seen a lot of agents burn themselves out over the years by having nothing in their lives but work.”
“I’m not an agent, and you’ve never encountered anyone quite like me.”
“Yes, I would have to agree with you on that. The Man Without Fear. Once the evil doctor’s monster, and now, you’re the monster in the basement of Quantico. Is the real reason that you want to live here so that you can haunt the halls and perhaps intimidate some of your former pursuers?”
Ackerman smiled. “I don’t keep a record of transgressions, my friend, but the normals do find me rather intimidating. Now, if we’re done here, I would like to spend a few moments inside my mind and then drift into REM sleep.”
Carter reached into his briefcase and removed a file. He said, “One last thing, if you’re up to it before you turn in, take a look at this.”
Ackerman glanced down at the proffered item and, with a raised eyebrow, said, “A new case so soon? It seems that the whole world has gone mad.”
Carter said, “You’re not wrong.” Then, holding the file out farther, he asked, “Not up for the challenge?”
Snatching the file and sticking it under his arm, Ackerman smiled back at his new zookeeper and said, “Oh, Samuel, you know how it is… A true player is always looking for a good game.”
Acknowledgeme
nts
I want to start off by saying that an enormous number of people have helped and supported me with this project and in my life in general—way too many to list here. The most notable of these is my wonderful wife, Gina, who put up with all my eccentricities and supported me as I reached for this dream. I also want to thank the rest of my family for all of their support and encouragement, especially those who served as my early readers and copy-editors (Yes, Teresa, I’m listing you by name, as I promised).
But there is also a large group within the publishing industry without whom this project would not have been possible. If I have any success with this novel, it will be due largely to the efforts of my editor, publisher, and friend, Lou Aronica, who helped take my work to the next level. Thank you, Lou, for your patience and wisdom. Overwhelming gratitude is also due to my agents, Danny Baror and Heather Baror—for taking a chance on an unknown writer—and to my friend and business partner, Stan Tremblay—for helping to bring the world of The Shepherd to the masses. Big thanks to my copy-editor, Steven Manchester, who helped to add that extra layer of polish onto the book. I also want to thank my fellow authors who have helped and encouraged me on my writer’s journey: Jeremy Robinson, Andrew Gross, AJ Hartley, James Scott Bell, Karen Dionne, James Rollins, Travis Thrasher, Andrew Peterson, Steven James, DB Henson, Jeremy Burns, Brian Wheeler, and many more. Also, many thanks to the International Thriller Writers. Without the ITW and their collective instruction and wisdom, I would not be anywhere close to accomplishing my dream right now.
About the Author
ETHAN CROSS’s Ackerman thrillers are international bestsellers. Before becoming a full time writer, he was a computer programmer, a Chief Technology Officer and a Marketing Director for a New York publisher. He lives in Illinois with his wife, three kids, and two Shih Tzus.
@EthanCrossBooks www.ethancross.com
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