Bethany Anne focused her attention. “Anthony Chillenni, for the crimes you have committed against innocents throughout the world by funding terrorists, you have been sentenced to imprisonment. May Hell greet your soul.” As she finished talking, Bethany Anne pushed Anthony Chillenni into the Etheric. His body disappeared from her hand. She just barely heard a scream when he realized something other than his floor was waiting for him.
Then, there was silence in the condo.
Denver, CO – USA
It had taken a while for Kevin to drive to Denver using the I-70. However, Lance wanted a ‘great steak’ and said he would pick up the tab. So, Kevin chose The Capital Grille. It was located near the University of Colorado, off Larimer street.
What Kevin hadn’t counted on, was some sort of huge event happening. All of the different parking areas were packed. He was past The Cheesecake Factory’s parking and turning onto 17th when he found a spot that a small green Honda Accord was exiting. Fortunately, he was pulling right around the corner and damn near bumped the car as it left the spot on the left side.
He jumped out and put money into the parking meter. The temperature was a balmy forty-six degrees so he had grabbed a light jacket before locking his car. He noticed a couple heading towards The Old Spaghetti Factory off 18th. Both of them were bundled up against the cold.
Tourists.
Kevin walked the two blocks back over to The Capital Grill.
Still not a parking spot anywhere. He had just reached the restaurant when he received a text. It was Lance, letting him know he was a couple of miles away and would be there in a few minutes. Kevin looked around, evaluating the situation. It was getting dark, but he could see well enough to know that even the valet parking was full. He sent a text back to Lance, that he would wait in the bar.
Kevin had given their names to the hostess, to put them in queue for a table. He was handed a little device that would buzz, to let him know when his table was available. Just as he entered the modern looking bar area he heard his name called out. “Kevin!” He turned around to find Lance stepping into the bar right behind him.
Kevin held out his hand in greeting. “How the hell did you find a parking spot so fast?”
Smiling, Lance shook his hand. “Corporate secret, my man, corporate secret!” Lance looked around the steakhouse, “You know, I don’t think I’ve been here for years.”
“Neither have I, but you said you’re paying, so I was willing to make the drive.” Kevin thumbed over his shoulder, “Bar?”
Lance nodded, “Bar!” The two were able to find open seats at the far end of the highly polished bar. After they ordered, Kevin turned to his previous boss, “So, how’s the missus?”
Lance smiled, “Damn boy, I’m not hitched yet.”
Kevin smiled as he examined Lance’s nose more closely, “It’s ok, the nose piercing is barely noticeable.” Kevin looked around, “Maybe someone can up the lights?” Lance just grinned at the barb. The bartender dropped off a couple of beers. Each man grabbed one and they clinked them together.
Kevin started, “Here’s to a long life.”
Lance continued, “And a merry one!”
“A quick death.”
“And an easy one.”
“A pretty girl.”
“I got me one!” Lance winked when changing that verse.
Kevin just shook his head and continued, “A cold pint!”
Both men raised their bottles one more time as Lance finished the toast, “And another one!”
Both men downed their beers.
Setting his bottle down hard enough to get the bartender’s attention, Lance gave him the universal symbol for another round.
Kevin laughed, “I see Patricia already has you knocked for a loop.”
Lance smiled, “Yeah, I wasn’t thinking relationship anything, while my… boss… was able to see something I wasn’t.”
Kevin nodded, “Him and about every other person probably.”
Lance was focused on a memory and not paying attention when he corrected Kevin. “Her.”
Kevin sat back in his chair to make sure he had the right man. “You’re working for a ‘her’?”
Lance’s face clouded up, “What? You don’t think I can work for a woman?”
“Well, you are looking younger. I guess if you can go in for some sort of surgery and hair dye, maybe you’ve changed enough to respect the fairer sex enough to listen to their suggestions. I’m just wondering how much a ball-buster this lady must be to get you to support her.”
Lance looked over at Kevin, “You have no idea. It’s like she’s known me her whole damn life and can sense the tactic that assures a victory. I’m not ashamed to admit it’s damn scary, Kevin, damn scary. Wait until you meet the vixen.”
“So, this is where we finally have ‘the talk’, right?” Kevin nodded his thanks to the bartender as he was handed his next beer.
“What’s there to talk about?” Lance smiled as he took a sip, knowing Kevin’s inability to be patient. His curiosity was his greatest strength, and his greatest weakness.
“You know damn well what there is to talk about! You wouldn’t be willing to wine me and dine me…”
Lance snorted, “Watch it, Patricia might hear you.”
“Why? Are you wearing a wire now?”
Lance grumped, “No, but I have learned women have preternaturally good hearing. You can’t pass gas five houses down the street without them spouting some comment about not being gross, and spraying smelly shit all over the room.”
“That’s why I’m single.”
“You’re single because you have a stick up your ass and you’re too damn nosy right off the bat. Most women don’t appreciate you doing a background check before the first date.”
“What, now you’re Miss Manners?”
“Out of the two of us, who has a girl?”
“Et tu, Lance. Et Tu…”
Both men cracked up.
Kevin’s little plastic square lit up and started buzzing. “Time to dine.”
Lance stood up, downed the rest of his drink and then dropped two twenties on the bar and placed the bottle on top of them. “Good, I’m hungry! Just make sure the cow doesn’t ‘moo’ and slap it on my plate.”
Kevin walked over to give the hostess the buzzing square. A second hostess took them to a smaller area, off to the side of the main dining room. Lance was a few paces back when Kevin turned to sit down, “I asked for a secluded spot.”
Lance smiled to the hostess and sat across from him. “That’s good for me.”
The guys checked out the menu and then settled on the basics. Steaks, with baked potatoes done all the way. Kevin cut the green onions from his.
Lance bit into the bread, “There is nothing better than bread at a steakhouse.”
“What about Italian restaurants?”
Lance considered his question, “Mostly, they work. But you can end up eating nothing but a straight pretzel like thing, that they call bread. It’s a disgrace to bread. They are nothing more than a long, round piece of crust in a skinny bag.”
Kevin conceded the point and moved the conversation to the main event. “Ok, you’ve strung me along long enough. I’m out of the service with nothing more than your ’think bigger’ comment. I trust you haven’t led me astray?”
Lance finished his bite, “Never would Kevin, or you wouldn’t have signed out of the military. The job we need you to do is run the base.”
Kevin’s eye’s narrowed, “I figured you might be coming back to run the base.”
Lance shook his head, “No can do. I am needed to keep all of the boss lady’s companies pointed the right way. Prioritizing and highlighting the ones which have the tools, talent, or technology we need to move forward.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of their steaks. Both were asked to cut into their meat and confirm it was cooked appropriately. Kevin agreed his was and Lance barely eyed his before cutting a piece off and telling
the server, “Sorry! Yup, it’s not moo’ing so it’s good for me.” He paused to enjoy the first bite before quickly cutting another.
Kevin took a minute to get his potato ready as he asked his follow up question, “Ok. That explains my role and your role, what about your boss’s role? What is she doing in all of this?”
Lance put his fork and knife down and looked Kevin square in the eyes, “Working to save the planet.”
Kevin’s first reaction was to smile and laugh off Lance’s comment, but his nascent laughter quickly died when his humor wasn’t mirrored in Lance’s eyes. “You’re serious?”
Lance pursed his lips and nodded his head.
“And Patricia?”
“Would continue on course even if I should die. We are in this until the end.”
“Why wouldn’t the Army be a good place to work from?”
Lance picked up his fork and knife, “The answer to that is more of a show thing than a tell thing. The boss is aware you are a nosy shit, so she is going to meet with you after dinner, if I haven’t scared you off.”
“Who is ratting me out as a nosy shit?” Kevin resumed his eating. “I would rather say I am ‘surprise averse’.”
Lance put another piece of meat in his mouth, and then pointed the fork at Kevin, “Call it what you want, but you snoop more than a cat.”
“I don’t ‘snoop’, I’m inquisitive.”
“Bullshit! You’re nosy.”
“I’m inquiring.”
“Prying.”
“Investigative.”
“Ahhhh…” Lance looked to the ceilings, searching for another word. He raised his fork up in the air, “intrusive.”
“Scrutinizing.”
“Look, damn you, have you been memorizing the fucking synonyms here? Meddlesome.”
“Searching.” Kevin’s smile grew larger the longer it took Lance to retort.
“Fine, I’ll give you this round. I can’t come up with anything else. But the fact remains, you can be a prying prick due to your ‘inquisitive and inquiring’ nature.”
Kevin thought back to the last, rather short-term, girlfriend he had, “Yes, ok. But did you have to tell her this?”
“Who said I told her?”
Kevin’s shock was complete, “Patricia ratted me out?”
Lance waved his hand at Kevin, “Hell no, of course I told her. It’s one of your better traits.”
Kevin knew he was being baited, so he kept his mouth shut.
Lance had a twinkle in his eye, “What, no asking about any other traits?”
Kevin looked like he was about to burst trying to keep his questions to himself. He heard a little buzzing sound and was surprised it was coming from Lance.
Lance put down his utensils, pulled out his phone and looked at the message. “Well my inquisitive friend, it looks like your answers are about thirty minutes away.”
“What, now?” Kevin looked down at his steak.
“No, tomorrow. Yes, thirty minutes from now. If you’re not man enough to finish that in ten minutes, I don’t know how to help.”
“But I’ve been drinking, Lance. I don’t think I’m completely sober.”
Lance stopped the fork half-way up to his mouth and eyed his friend. “Trust me, the alcohol is going to evaporate immediately when you meet the boss.” He continued with his bite.
Kevin started eating a little more quickly. “Why, ball-buster?”
Lance replied evenly, “Let’s just say she has a knack for making an impression during the interview. Patricia still comments on their first meeting.”
Lance worked on his food, he could see Kevin’s focus turn inward. You poor bastard, Lance thought, you can’t possibly know what you need to be curious about. Lance looked down at his watch. Oh well, he’ll find out soon enough.
CHAPTER THREE
Washington D.C. - USA
Donnie ‘the Don’ Roberts was reading this morning’s reports as he walked down the hallway from the break room to his corner office, when he noticed an oddity.
The CIA had requested information about Anthony Chillenni in Chicago. Chatter had gone across the wire, referencing a code-word contact in the States, which had finally resolved to a money man. They had traced the contact back into the U.S. and dropped it off with his group.
His group, responsible for connecting the terrorist dots inside the U.S. with his counterparts overseas was constantly trying to keep tabs on known and suspected terrorists and their organizations.
Anthony Chillenni had been tagged as possible financial support personnel just the previous week. Donnie turned back around and walked back two doors, where he stuck his head in Barbara Nickers’ office. Barb was always in the office early, sometimes two hours early. Two other co-workers had almost put out an all-points bulletin once, when 7:15 AM had rolled around and Barb wasn’t in yet. She arrived ten minutes later with five boxes of Krispy Kreme donuts.
Her co-workers decided to forgive her.
“Barb?” She raised her head. “Do you have any information on Anthony Chillenni? The ‘Can’t Investigate Anything’ agency is asking for more info.”
Barb had a laptop on her desk which shared space with a keyboard and monitor. The keyboard was hardwired to a terminal and was the more secure of the two devices. It could only access information from within the building. That system was not allowed any outside connection. She cleared a couple of screens and typed in Chillenni’s name. Hitting another shortcut, she brought up a screen to show his bank transactions. “That’s funny.”
Donnie stepped into her office, his CIA acronym might have to be temporarily upgraded. “What is?”
Hitting another key command, a third window popped up on Barb’s screen. She put out a finger to follow the dense lines of information, stopping two-thirds down the monitor. “He was in Chicago, purchasing normally, when he seems to have fallen off the grid three days ago.” She dropped her hands back to the keyboard and typed quickly. Two windows disappeared to have a new one appear. Her eyes scanned across it rapidly, “Nope, he hasn’t booked passage out on an airline.”
Now, Donnie sat down in the uncomfortable chair in front of Barb’s desk. He took a sip of his coffee. The coffee was, he mused, exactly how he liked his women. Warm enough to be interesting, not so hot as to be trouble. He had enough trouble to deal with at work, he didn’t enjoy the idea of coming home to it as well.
Barb sat back, eyeing the screens in front of her. “Ok, either he has gone all cash, is on a bender with some nose candy, or he’s dead. We have nothing on his whereabouts for the last seventy-two hours. No money, no phone calls, nada.”
Donnie considered her answer. “Well, I’m guessing somebody took out contestant number one.”
Barb looked over, “Why is that?”
“Because his disappearance was unexpected. If the CIA is hearing enough chatter that they got a good read, it means he was expected to be in contact. But he isn’t.” Donnie stood up, “Go ahead and pull together a quick summary of your findings and I’ll share it with my contact. Also, we might as well put it out in the general knowledge database. I’m sure our foreign friends are hearing chatter about this guy. Let’s get the jump on being ‘data friendly’ for once.”
Barb nodded her head and got back to work. The idea of one more potential terrorist threat possibly dead, only made Barb’s morning a little bit brighter.
Luton - England
Ali ‘John’ Abdullah left his friends standing outside the Hulal meat market and turned down Dunstable Road. He passed by a weapons disposal bin. That was a laugh. It was a little past one in the morning and he needed to get a little sleep. He had plans he needed to move forward and two small cells he needed to report on as well. Then he would get on his game console to create a private chat channel, to discuss the next steps that his small group would take to move their efforts along.
That was when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He slowed down. After the attacks in France a little while b
ack, everyone had been vigilant about watching their surroundings. He walked casually down the sidewalk. There were numerous cars parked along the curb and he would occasionally look into a car’s mirrors, to see if he could spot anything.
There weren’t any vans on the street which resembled police or intelligence vehicles. He chose to cross the street at Kentworth and backtrack his route. There was no way he was heading to his apartment right now. He crossed Waldeck and then slowed down to look at his reflection in the pharmacy window glass. Using it to look around, he still saw nothing that would cause his senses to go off.
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