The Operator

by Craig Martelle

  Jenny lost her smile. “I understand.”

  “The good news is that no one has discovered the bodies, not yet.” I brought up the latest images from the cameras in her car. I pointed in the distance.

  “How can you tell?”

  “No yellow tape around it. I watched the feed from the brick-throwing until the firemen left. No one stopped by the car. I’ll call and have your car towed back here. Lunch, we’ll pack, and then it’s off to Vegas sooner or later.”

  Jenny kissed me. “I’m going to take a shower. You can start lunch in about fifteen minutes. I look forward to making time with Elvis.”

  She had taken it surprisingly well. I was proud of her. I watched her walk down the hallway. She glanced over her shoulder and caught me staring unashamedly. I waved. Jenny crooked her finger at me.

  ***

  Two days after that, with Jenny’s car safely in the driveway and the cameras removed, I dug into the dark web and pulled up the board where The Peace Archive put their targets. Bids were made on a different page.

  They had established me as a target in the formal bid process. There were no bids on my picture. I wouldn’t see who bid or how much, only the number.

  Employee needs to be found. Last seen in Washington. Extremely dangerous.

  They weren’t wrong. No one in their right mind would bid on that job. Looking for someone who didn’t want to be found would have been bad enough, but going after an operator? If anything, The Peace Archive would tag the two men who’d recruited me and make them do it.

  I almost felt sorry for the skipper and the platoon sergeant.

  Almost.

  We hit the road in the car that I’d bought for cash and never registered. We took our time, driving casually, staying off the radar. Stopping at nice boutique hotels to enjoy the luxury that I wanted to wrap Jenny in.

  When I could.

  Las Vegas was a town where anything could be had for a price. Anything. We needed new identification to stay off the radar.

  When I’d hired on with The Peace Archive, I had the impression that it was a United States-only organization. I had nothing concrete. It could have been solely based on my bias or the fact that none of the jobs that popped up over the past six months had been anywhere else.

  All we had to do was leave the country.

  There aren’t Yellow Pages for fake ID, so I thought we’d try a different route. A legitimate one.

  “There’s no backing out,” I told her. “One and done. I’m not a good-time guy where you marry me, clean out my bank account, and move on.”

  “Do I have access to your bank account?”

  “There is the inevitable question. The answer for now is no. Money destroys too many relationships. If it takes me handing over all my money for you to trust me, then you don’t. If you trust me to begin with, you won’t pressure me. I will share the numbers with you as I’ve already done, and you will have all you need. I will spend nothing without telling you. Fair enough, for now, at least?” I didn’t want to be destroyed if I was wrong about Jenny.

  I didn’t think I was, but stranger things have happened. I had seen it in the Corps. A newlywed had returned home to find his wife living with another man. I looked into Jenny’s eyes and got lost in them, as I usually did. She matched my gaze before finally replying.

  “Are you saying you’ll be my sugar daddy?”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Not the answer I was expecting.

  She leaned close. “How about we go see Elvis?”

  “Deal, future Mrs. Lawless.”

  “Now it’s my turn to ask. What?”

  “They know me and my name, but who will be looking for Jeannette and Eldon Lawless? I’ll change my name on the marriage license. We’re a modern society, aren’t we? Who’s to say which party has to change their name?”

  “Mrs. Lawless sounds like my mom. Maybe Ms. Lawless since I heard it a billion times as a teacher, even though it doesn’t make me feel special.”

  “I think you’ll get used to it, especially if it means people aren’t waiting to kill us.”

  “It’s my wedding day, and you have to bring up the target part. We enjoy two days of travel bliss, honeymooning like teenagers, laughing and taking in the sights. How about I call you Mr. Rain on My Parade?”

  My mouth worked, but no words came out. I was ill-equipped to respond to emotional arguments. “Yes, dear?”

  She cocked her head to look at me. “What?”

  “I’ve heard from men I respect that sometimes the right answer is simply ‘Yes, dear,’ and then do what she asked.”

  Jenny smiled. I think she used emotional arguments to throw me off my game. She struck me as every bit as logical as I was. I decided she was playing three-dimensional chess. I needed to up my game.

  “Your friends are wise in the ways of the world.”

  “I also know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I could not have been blessed by a better partner in life. Whether or not we go see Elvis, I love you, Jenny.”

  “Me, too, Ian. I’m sorry I waffle, but I’m still trying to get my head wrapped around this life. I’m coming around, already getting used to it. I don’t want to go on a world cruise right now. I’d rather just settle someplace and relax. Watch TV, see what Vegas has to offer.”

  “We can disappear in Vegas. Many people do.”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “Disappear above ground, to be clear.” We kissed tenderly. “Elvis is waiting.”

  We held hands as we walked to the small chapel. My mind raced. I wanted to get out of the States for a while and throw The Peace Archive off the scent. That wasn’t to be. Sometimes the best answer was “Yes, dear.” Now I had to figure out what that meant. Ian Bragg’s name couldn’t show up anywhere in Las Vegas.

  I didn’t have a birth certificate with me, but Jenny had hers. I had my passport and the wedding chapel considered that good enough, based on the logic that one had to produce a birth certificate to get a passport. It was not necessarily the same for a driver’s license. Still, they did the paperwork and didn’t blink at our name request. We hadn’t been the first. I don’t know why I was disappointed.

  Jenny kept the man talking while he filled out the form, and he put Jeannette as her first name, despite what was on her birth certificate. Our legitimate approach to changing our names worked far better than digging out a forger. Fake ID was nothing to take lightly with law enforcement stings plaguing the net.

  I wanted zero interaction with law enforcement.

  Who was going to give newlyweds a hard time? Surely not Elvis. Unfortunately, it was the old and heavy Elvis who performed our ceremony, but he had a respectable voice and put on a great show.

  We sealed our marriage with a kiss between lovers, slow and tender. Elvis cleared his throat. The next couple was waiting. We paid our fee and tipped him with a hundred-dollar bill.

  I would become Ian Lawless for the time being. I had a mission because offense made the best defense, and I refused to live my life on the run. I’d go underground to find The Peace Archive. If I had to terminate every one of their operators, that’s what I would do. They shouldn’t have come after me, and they shouldn’t have tried to kill Jenny. They would pay dearly for that, far more than the price of a single contract.

  ***

  We went with a long-term rental of a furnished house. The man was military, following a divorce, shipped overseas and stuck with all his stuff. I spoke his language and gave him the sympathy of a veteran who had seen it before. He felt like we were doing him a favor. I agreed. We paid six months’ rent and the deposit in advance.

  I put my computer on the table and accessed the Wi-Fi, using the VPN to get onto the net. I wondered how much longer the sergeant would pay for it. I had his email and a new account I created just for correspondence with him. He even kept the utilities in his name, which limited our exposure from whatever compromised system appeared on the dark web. I’d send him money to cover the internet and cable bill and
more, like pictures of his stuff if we moved it.

  He deserved to know his place was being taken care of. His life had raced into the dumper right quick and in a hurry. Peace of mind was my gift to him.

  We moved in with what we carried in the car. Two roller duffels and a few disposable grocery bags filled with stuff. It was more than I liked.

  I put everything in the living room. The house was a little bigger than Jenny’s, with a similar layout.

  I hooked my music player into the flatscreen’s soundbar and dialed up Dreamline . I started jamming while Jenny put things away.

  “Dance with me.” I boogied over and dirty-danced around her, trying to guilt her into dancing.

  “This isn’t dance music.” Jenny dug her fists into her hips.

  “Charlatan!” I cried in mock disdain. She hesitated to make her point before relenting. The song ended, and I pulled her close to whisper into her ear, “Live for today.”

  “I know,” she replied. “Mr. Lawless.” She shook her head. “That is too weird.”

  “We’ll get married again somewhere else, and you can be Mrs. Bragg next time.”

  “Is it real? Are we married? It was hard to take it seriously with Elvis singing Love Me Tender and shaking his belly at us.”

  I took the certificate off the counter. “It is one hundred percent valid. I’ve known you for a grand total of two weeks, and here we are. I look forward to a lifetime of learning about you.”

  “Two weeks? Is that it? Seems longer.”

  “A spear right to the heart! You’re making me old before my time.”

  “Two weeks,” Jenny reiterated. “I met the future mayor and the Baron of Ball Street. I walked away from my career and my house. And three people have died.”

  “You never said a word when you met Jimmy and Clive.”

  “No. Their business was with you. I had nothing to add.”

  “Which reminds me, let’s see what’s up with Xterra Worldwide.”

  Jenny slid a chair next to mine and leaned her head against my shoulder to watch. I dove into the dark web first to scan the backdoor articles. There was a lot of speculation in most, but two were substantial. Shareholders had filed a class-action suit to recover their investment when fund prices tanked following Nader’s untimely death. I searched throughout to finally end up on the regular internet, where an article reported his death as an accident.

  I stroked my chin.

  “What’s wrong? Isn’t that what you wanted it to be?”

  “It is, but there should have been some kind of investigation. The ruling came quickly.”

  “But he was dirty.”

  “In a big way. Maybe that’s all it is. They didn’t rule it suicide by car. Accident. The easy way out.”

  “Search for those two we left in the Walmart parking lot.”

  Jenny was insulating herself against what we had done by making it impersonal but removing the killing-them part. I searched by the town name, and it came right up. A double murder in a sleepy town. The victims had not been identified. The police suspected it was a gang hit related to a drug deal gone bad. The article mentioned the motel fire. Nothing was said about Jenny’s car. She had destroyed her phone, leaving her on the outside looking in when it came to being connected to the greater world.

  “You need a phone.”

  “Why?” she asked, having embraced the freedom of not being connected.

  “In case I need to get hold of you, or you need to make a call.”

  “Where are you going that I won’t be with you?” she shot back.

  “Well, nowhere, but in case we have different errands to run.”

  “Uh-huh. Already kicking me to the curb. I see how you are. You can apologize by taking me out for a nice dinner.”

  “Vegas, baby!” I searched for the finest dining in Vegas and was buried under pages and pages of five-star restaurants, two of them dedicated solely to steakhouses. “Anything you want.”

  “All of it, dinner every night at a different place if we want.” As I had suspected, we would live the world gastronomical tour. I was good with it. We needed to get a gym membership, too.

  “And we will never run out of great places to go. I have to warn you, despite my usual approach of carrying nothing and moving around a lot, I am a creature of habit. When we find a place we like, I suspect we’ll go there often.” I checked the prices of the steakhouses and picked the third most expensive. “How about this one?”

  “If we like it, what’s wrong with going back?” She reached past me and clicked on pictures of the patrons. “Looks like we need to buy you something to wear. You can’t go like that.”

  “Do you have something to wear?”

  She looked sideways at me. “Despite your orders that I should only bring practical clothes, yes, I have two outfits that go with one pair of dress heels. I even brought lingerie.”

  My man instinct kicked in. “Can you model it for me? It is our wedding day.”

  “Maybe.” She let it hang. “I’m not sure you deserve it yet. We’ll see how well you treat me at dinner.”

  “Only the best. We’re going to need a car. We can’t drive this one for too much longer, and we can’t ditch it here.”

  “A quandary, but you’ll think of something. Let’s get unpacked and make believe we live here, even if only for a short while.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “It was a time for warm embraces, for smiles, for toasts and reconciliations, for renewing old friendships and making new ones, for laughter and kisses. It was a good time, a golden autumn, a time of peace and plenty. But winter was coming.” George R.R. Martin

  Life in Vegas was pleasant. We grew comfortable, and that was when I started to worry. I wanted to go into town less and less, but Jenny liked getting out, so we compromised and went somewhere every day, often simply hiking in the hills. There were numerous trails in and around the greater Vegas area. We’d joined a gym early and went nearly every day.

  When I was in the Marines, we were warned against falling into a routine. Terrorists exploited habit.

  I checked The Peace Archive board daily. Jobs came and went, all in the US, and the hit on me still had zero bids. They updated it once a month with a new minimum. It was up to one and a quarter million when it finally received two bids.

  And then it disappeared. Someone had been hired and was on my trail.

  “It’s time for us to go,” I told Jenny after we returned home from the gym.

  “You have something planned?” Jenny smiled and sauntered toward me.

  “I’m sorry.” The look on my face explained it to her. It was as if I had stabbed her in the heart with an icicle. I gave her time to herself while I sulked, looking through the stuff we’d bought, ready to leave it all behind.

  As we had to.

  I walked outside and scanned the neighborhood, looking for someone who didn’t belong. Everything was in its place. Normalcy. People at work who worked during the day. People at home who worked at night. Nothing untoward.

  Yet someone was out there. They wouldn’t have taken the job if they didn’t know where I was. We still had the Toyota. I should have gotten rid of it already. Three months and I’d lost my edge.

  Complacency was an ugly word in my business. It benefitted the operator. With one last look, I went back inside.

  I had thought about what it would take to live normally while maintaining a low profile. I wanted to do that for Jenny. I looked in the refrigerator—leftovers like we always brought home, but we didn’t have a dog. We couldn’t get one because we knew this day would come. There was nothing I wanted to eat.

  My stomach was twisted in knots. I sat on the couch with my head in my hands.

  The last few months had been magical. The higher we soared, the farther we had to fall. Here we sat, in different rooms, lamenting our lives.

  The best defense... I jumped online and started searching the boards where my type might hang out on the dark web. Just be
cause I never interacted with others, it didn’t mean they didn’t.

  Jenny emerged from the bedroom, eyes clear, walking with a purpose, straight to the counter with my stuff. She took my music, plugged it into the soundbar, and dialed up Dreamline . When it started to play, she jacked up the volume.

  “Dance with me,” she mouthed. She might have said it out loud, but I couldn’t hear anything except our song. I was up like a shot, slipping past her so I could run my hand over her magnificent body.

  And we danced, making it mean something. When the song finished, I paused it.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry for being selfish,” she started. I tried to stop her, but she waved me off, hugging me to her and resting her forehead on mine before she continued. “I knew this day was coming. I will do what I have to. This life is about us, not a place or things. Tell me what we need to do and how I can help you help us.”

  “I was just looking at that. How about a staycation? Right here in Vegas. We need to draw the operator out.”

  “What do you mean? What operator?”

  “Someone bid on the contract and The Peace Archive removed it from the board. That means they know where we are and have sent someone after us.”

  “Why do you still have access to the board?”

  “It’s not something that anyone controls. I expect I wouldn’t be able to bid, but seeing it? That’s open before God and the world.”

  “As long as you’re on the dark web and in the right place behind a maze of gateways.”

  “There is that. Maybe God is a hacker.” I looked at the screen and dug into the site. There was no way to leave them a message. Nine jobs were open at present, an increase in the usual targets. The Peace Archive was growing.

  I accessed every potential target. Bad men and bad women. “Why did they accept the job on Jimmy?”

  “Soft spot for the Wonderbeast, wanting her to find love in the arms of her bad-boy billionaire?”

  “I can’t believe that. Bad-boy billionaire!” The look told me I was getting close to crossing the line, but I pushed it. “Don’t tell me you read that stuff.”