The Operator

by Craig Martelle

  “Driver’s choice. I’ll take the classical station.” She punched a number on the panel, and the sound of a string quartet materialized. “Maybe she’s the narcissist, and he is free when he’s outside the house.”

  “Which leads us back to the Wonderbeast. None of this is Jimmy Tripplethorn’s fault.”

  “I agree. What are you going to do, Ian?” We held hands. I stroked her fingers while I tried to think.

  “Talking to you was at the top of my list, so my number one priority is checked off. Next is wait two days before giving Jimmy a call. In between, I’ll watch the Wonderbeast’s emails. I think she’ll head out for another illicit meeting, but since I told Jimmy where she’d gone, she won’t go there again. I’ll have to play the Race after Red Barchetta game.”

  “You and your Rush.”

  “I promise it won’t turn me into a devil worshipper.”

  “That would put a damper on things. Are you hungry?”

  “Getting there. What did you have in mind?” I was close to the point of eating anything put in front of me, even shoe leather. I had only managed half of my chicken Caesar wrap before tossing it.

  “Grocery store. I want to see how you shop for groceries.”

  “This is your devil worshipper test? I always put the cart back in the rack. Always. And I take grocery shopping seriously because I love to eat, but I usually don’t have a kitchen.”

  “Now you do. And you’ve been through my cupboards. You know what’s in the house, or more importantly, what’s not there.”

  I took a deep breath. Reflection. I’d been chasing that question the entire time on this operation. Everything that made for a good hit was missing.

  Jenny pulled into her local supermarket, a chain store. “Do you mind if I drive?” I asked after selecting an upright cart. I didn’t see buying a whole lot. “Steaks, sweet potatoes, steamable green beans, rock salt, and Italian dressing. A leafy salad mix. Muffins and sausage patties and eggs. A little lunch meat or sausage. How about tater tots? Then we could get a fresh pie from the bakery. And ice cream.”

  “You had eight seconds to think about this, and you already have a full list? I’ll drive. You pick and load.”

  Staying true to my proffered menu, we quickly filled our cart. Jenny glanced at the freezers as we walked by without taking any ice cream. Her face dropped, and she frowned.

  I pointed at the cart. “That’s a big pie, and there are only two of us.”

  “We don’t have to eat it all, but we are obligated to eat it right.” I swallowed hard before turning around and heading back to do battle with the brands. We selected a pint of Tillamook, made nearby in Oregon. “A girl’s gotta have her ice cream.”

  I knew it would be nearby. I’d spotted it at the end of the aisle. I left the cart to grab it: a can of whipped cream.

  “What’s that for?”

  “The good dessert that comes after dessert,” I replied casually. It was impossible to miss the sparkle in her eyes. “I’ll start the two steaks marinating, and we’ll grill them tomorrow. For tonight, salads, eggs, and sausage. We better get cheese, too.”

  Jenny wasn’t sure. She didn’t move the cart. “You want to wait for steaks?”

  “Not wait, prepare for optimal flavor and enjoyment. Open your eyes and behold your new world.”

  “I like the way you wait.”

  “Waiting doesn’t mean we have to do nothing.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” Plato

  I sat at the dining room table, reading the Wonderbeast’s emails. I’d already looked at her secret account. She had not sent a message. I wondered if Jimmy had broached her absence from the family home. Maybe she didn’t need to flail and send a message. As a narcissist, she would make it her sole mission to get Jimmy back under her control, not questioning anything she did.

  I wanted to think Jimmy would stand up for himself better than that.

  We had not yet cleaned the pistols. The gun oil and cleaning kit were stored with the ammunition at the bottom of the closet. Even the rag to use on the weapons was clean and neatly folded. I brought it all to the living room to set on a magazine on the table.

  I could take the M1911A1 apart with my eyes closed, but I had never seen a weapon like the HP25A. A quick search on YouTube showed me what I needed to know. I had to leave the magazine in and hammer back to break the weapon down, not anything I would have considered intuitive. I verified they were both unloaded before taking them apart, wiping them down, and scrubbing the carbon out of the recesses and off the movable parts. After they were clean, I applied a thin layer of oil to each, dry-fired them, and put them back on the table.

  The ammunition was limited, but I didn’t expect to get into a protracted firefight. In a home defense firefight, the most ammunition people use is a single magazine. It’s not like the movies.

  I loaded two magazines for the .25 and two for the .45. I liked the feel of the M1911A1. It was a weapon made for war, and it delivered like no other.

  Jenny walked up behind me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Cleaning the pistols. Drinking some coffee.”

  “It looked like you were lost in a dream. What were you thinking, Ian?”

  I put the pistol down and pulled Jenny onto my lap. “I was thinking about war and the power of this pistol. I never carried a pistol back when I was in the Corps. My weapon was an M4, but when they put me on sniper duty, I got to carry an M14. One is good for clearing buildings. The other is good for reaching out and touching someone.”

  “How much of your life does war consume?”

  I ran a hand through my hair and blew out a breath. “That is a tough question. I guess my answer is more than it should, but it’s kept me alive. And then it made me a rich man, only until it tore me down again when I rejected it. I respect the weapon and the peace it can bring when used as intended.”

  Jenny laughed. “You’re starting to sound like a politician.”

  Her smile and the music of her voice made for the start of a good day, no matter what else happened.

  Breakfast was followed by intimate time, but then Jenny had to go. She needed to wrap things up at the school since it was the end of the semester. She had reconciled herself to her last few days of working in the district.

  She struggled to pull herself from my arms as the clock raced onward. Our foreheads and noses touched.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” I said, “besides take care of today’s business today. We’ll handle tomorrow when it comes. In between, we’ll live life to the fullest.”

  Jenny closed her eyes and nodded slightly before kissing me one last time, desperately and passionately. She was acting like she understood the game. Every moment could be her last.

  “Wait,” I said when she reached the door. I retrieved the cleaned .25 from the table, chambered a round, and held it in front of her.

  “Those aren’t allowed in the school. And if the police came for me, I wouldn’t shoot them.”

  I had to agree. “You’re right, but it wouldn’t be the police. Be at peace and come home to me when you can.”

  I held the small pistol in my hand. It was little more than a deadly toy, but it would kill at close range, fired at the most vulnerable areas. I watched Jenny get into her car and go. She glanced at me in the doorway. I waved like a dutiful house-husband. She laughed and mouthed the words, “I love you,” before backing into the road and driving off.

  I returned to my computer. Better together, I thought. It applied to how I felt about Jenny and me. More fulfilled. But it didn’t make me better at my job. Being a loner was best, except when the plans and ideas weren’t gelling. Like The Peace Archive being a government organization.

  Was I a government killer? When I cut ties with that same government, would it be problematic as long as I remained in the United States? As lo
ng as we remained.

  Better together.

  I had too many questions about my target. Jimmy seemed like a good man. What was he doing with the Wonderbeast? Even her old man had someone to complement him. The more I thought about it, the more I felt there was a boyfriend. The Wonderbeast had to be involved.

  The political rival angle made little sense unless a major player, like a corporation, had tried to buy him, and he wouldn’t have it. That had happened often enough throughout American history that candidates were leveraged in a different way. Most corporations expected political leaders to wax and wane, fall in and out of favor, but business rolled on.

  Most had limited exposure to the fallacies of political expediency.

  A rival with lots of money? People didn’t get into politics if they didn’t already have a lot of money. Even Jimmy. It wasn’t his, but it was there. But there were no rivals.

  I stared at my computer, but nothing jumped out at me.

  Keep my eyes on the prize.

  I had a goal, a much different goal than I had last week.

  A world cruise.

  I checked the sites and found one leaving out of Italy at the end of the month. Tickets for a luxury suite were fifty grand each. A hundred grand for six months of seeing the world? Hell, yeah.

  I closed the site and dug back into the Wonderbeast’s emails. On Google, I could access her personal calendar and drive, but she didn’t keep anything there. Wherever she managed her schedule, it wasn’t in the usual places. I headed back to the dark web to search for everything that hinted at Tricia Tripplethorn.

  Two hours later, I felt like I had wasted my time, but I had learned a great deal about where she was not active. I was confident that I had done my best. I’d sleep on it, and maybe a new way to approach it would come to me.

  I headed outside to get some fresh air. I had not been around the yard to see what the Lawless family had done with their landscaping. The grass needed to be cut. Weeds needed to be pulled. Bushes to be trimmed.

  I found a lock on the shed, but the keys hung on a hook by the back door. I opened it to find moss and mold, and a rusty lawnmower. Aged lawn implements. Sandpaper and oil had been Mr. Lawless’ friend. I would put his supply to good use.

  The mower came to life quickly once the oil and gas were topped off. I made quick work of the lawn, cleaned the rust off the pruning shears, and attacked the hedge between the yard and road. A small bowsaw needed oil and a gentle sanding to make sure the blade wasn’t pocked and weakened. I removed some lower limbs that looked out of place and dragged them behind the house, cutting them up into smaller sections before dumping them on an ancient brush pile, a remnant from a time long past.

  An afternoon snack and plenty of water before I turned back to the yard. A manual edger helped me clean up the sidewalk and the driveway. Then the hard work of pulling the weeds from the expansion joints of the concrete. I used a life vest from the shed to kneel on.

  There was no boat. The vest was another relic from the time before. The material within crumbled under my knees, but it kept my body from abuse. Helping me with the weeds would be the final act of its long and storied existence.

  I finished late in the afternoon. It had been a good day, time away from the war to contemplate what needed to be contemplated. Despite the manual labor, I felt refreshed. I removed the steaks from the refrigerator and put them on the counter.

  The charcoal grill was long dead. I would have to cook them on the stove, but Jenny’s mom had a well-aged cast iron skillet. As an alternative, it would suffice. I checked my phone but hadn’t missed any calls.

  As I looked it, it rang, but it wasn’t Jenny’s number.

  Jimmy Tripplethorn.

  “Jimmy,” I answered.

  “I need to see you at a place outside of prying eyes. There’s a private meeting area in an equestrian center next to the Redmond Watershed. Tomorrow, lunchtime. I’ll text the address.”

  “This sounds like something your father-in-law would set up. Have you involved him?” The words came out of my mouth, but I didn’t want to be that contentious. I was forcing myself into a corner. I tried to relax.

  A car pulled into the driveway. Jenny.

  “This is something beyond my ability to handle. I needed a person I could trust.”

  “I hope you’re right. If this is a setup, you’re going to lose. Come alone. Just the two of you, I guess. I’m already not liking the setup, but I’ll make do. I hope you can live with the outcome.”

  I ended the call as Jenny walked through the door.

  “The yard looks…” The smile froze on her face when she saw me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Jimmy. I have to meet him tomorrow, some horse ranch beside the Watershed. He’s bringing Old Man Barrows.”

  “He’s bringing his father-in-law to discuss the wife, his daughter?” She shook her head. “Don’t go, Ian. I’m afraid.”

  “Would you be less afraid if you came with me?”

  “Well, I-I don’t know.”

  I waited.

  “I guess seeing it in person would convince me you’re not Bill Paxton.”

  I laughed. Then I let go of her and laughed harder. “Here I was thinking you were worried about me getting killed, when it was really that you don’t want me to be a liar.” I chuckled some more.

  She slapped my arm. “You stop.”

  “It’s dangerous because Barrows has the kind of money where he could make people disappear in a way that no one would ever know they existed. But Jimmy will be there. The squeaky-clean politician. Will Jimmy get his hands dirty? I can’t believe that. I have to go. You do not.”

  “I think I need to go, too. I don’t want to be without you. If that means we both die tomorrow, so be it. At least we’ll be together.”

  “Putting it that way makes it sound dramatic. I was thinking that if it was a hit, they wouldn’t pull the trigger with an unknown third party there.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You want to use me as a human shield?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not what I said. How do you like your ribeye, medium rare?”

  “You are not going to change the subject as if life and death are an oh-by-the-way.” She put her hands on her hips, her purse and strap tangled on her arm. She yanked it off her shoulder and slammed it on the table.

  I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure where I had gone astray.

  “We need to talk about whether we are going to survive tomorrow or if Wednesday is our last day on this planet.”

  “I told you everything there is to know. I don’t have anything else. Anxiety or worry is a construct within our minds. In the Marines, I learned not to worry about tomorrow. Sure, plan for it. Be ready for it. Stay fit to help get through it, but worrying ruins today and hurts your chances at having a good day tomorrow. Please, Miss Jenny, there is nothing we can do about tomorrow right now. Tomorrow, we will go early and scout the area, then we’ll get into position to watch. If they set up an ambush, we’ll see it, and then I’ll simply execute the original contract. If this is a setup, all bets are off, and Jimmy can kiss my ass.”

  Jenny started to sway, grabbed the table, and dropped into a chair to keep from falling.

  The game’s embrace was dark and too often cold. There would be more shocks before Jenny was on the inside.

  No one wanted to see anyone else’s dark side, but I had opened the doors and shined the light into humanity’s worst recesses in only a few sentences. I kneeled beside her, then took her hand and kissed it. Her arm hung limp.

  “Come back to me, Miss Jenny. We’ll know where we are tomorrow. I err on the side of caution, but I sincerely believe Jimmy isn’t the double-crossing type. Clive Barrows? You don’t get to be a billionaire without making enemies you have to deal with.”

  “This is a lot to take in. I don’t doubt what you’re saying, Ian, but I’m a schoolteacher. I live in a quiet community and have a boring life. I’m new to the international-man-of-myste
ry stuff.”

  “When I followed you into your room on the first night of the rest of my life, I thought you were in my room. Shows you how sharp I am. When you untied your robe, that was it. I was yours from that moment on. And you have very much done the international man of mystery. My back still hurts, by the way.”

  “You are so bad.” She pushed me away, but a smile touched her lips. “You don’t worry about tomorrow?”

  “Worry is a waste of time. I give things the appropriate amount of attention and then I move on. We’ll go early tomorrow to scout the approaches to the meeting site. We’ll find the bottleneck, and that is where we will see anyone who enters or leaves. We’ll scout an egress in case of an ambush, and we’ll go armed. If anyone comes after us, I’ll take them down.”

  “I think you’re trying to put my mind at ease. I’m not sure it’s working.”

  “I got this. It sounds worse than it needs to be. Which reminds me, we need to buy a remote camera that we can hook through a Wi-Fi. I saw an electronics shop in the strip mall with the grocery store. They’ll have something. But first, let’s take a stroll through the yard. I love the smell of fresh-cut grass.”

  Jenny studied me. I stood back and relaxed as her eyes ranged across my body. “I expect you’ll help me navigate the shark-infested waters of your world, Mister Bragg.”

  “As much as I can. I’ve grown fond of having you around.”

  “And you want to show me your freshly mowed yard?” A question.

  “Of course, so you can appreciate my contribution to our partnership as I appreciate yours.”

  She leaned back, and a quizzical expression flashed across her face. She settled into blinking slowly and shot me a warm smile. “I never thought about it that way. I saw it as more defensive. Kind of like, ‘Look at me. I cut the grass. I cooked. I did the dishes.’ But it’s not that at all, is it?”

  “We’ll figure that out together.” I pointed at the front door and motioned with my head. “Come on now. Freshly mowed yard. Then steaks.”

  “You got the grill going?”

  “The grill has seen its last steak. Your mom’s cast iron will do them up nicely.”