by Dirk Patton
“It is not final, but as of this morning the US Attorney is preparing to begin handing down indictments. There is no question that you shot the two deputies, but as more evidence comes to light, the consensus is that you should not have been charged, much less convicted. At most, you were guilty of self-defense.”
I was stunned. This had been a pipe dream for the past decade or more. Hell, it was every convict’s dream. But it never came true.
“You mean…” I couldn’t put my thoughts into words.
“After speaking with the Attorney General and the President this morning, I expect you will be receiving a Presidential pardon sometime within the next few months. Posthumously, of course.”
“What?”
“You’re dead, Mr. Tracy,” he said, using my real name for the first time. “Executed by the state of Arizona. You no longer have your face, or even your fingerprints. But your name will be cleared. Eventually. Once the legal process plays out.”
“I can’t go back?” I asked, head spinning.
“Not as Robert Tracy, no. That man is dead.”
“What are you telling me? I have to stay here? You’re going to force me to work for you? Threaten to kill me again, like when I first arrived?”
“No, Mr. Whitman. In retrospect, that was a mistake on my part. You are not a prisoner. Not any longer, as far as I’m concerned. I’m telling you that you are free to go. Do whatever you wish. As long as you don't do it as Robert Tracy. And remember that you are bound by the National Secrets Act and can never talk about this project. If you do…”
I sat staring at him, mouth hanging open.
“But, I’m hoping you will choose to stay with the project. You are still the only asset we have, and I believe you can see the value of the work we do.”
I continued to just sit there. Unable to speak.
“If you do, you are already an FBI Agent. Mr. Bering. You would fully assume the identity and the pay and benefits of a veteran employee of the Bureau. You could come and go as you pleased, as long as you were available and ready when we needed you. In fact, the project will provide you with a modest home in the Houston area, which is only a short helicopter ride away. You will not have to live in the facility any longer.”
“You’re serious,” I said, finally able to put a coherent thought into words.
“Very, Agent Bering,” he smiled. “We need your help. Without you, Project Athena is nothing more than an incredibly expensive line item in a black budget.”
We stared at each other for a few moments, the silence stretching out.
“You don’t need to answer this minute,” Patterson finally said. “You need to finish healing before you’re medically cleared to return to duty, anyway. Take some time off and complete your recuperation. I’m sure Ms. Broussard would be a lovely companion while you’re convalescing in the Bahamas.”
“Bahamas?”
Patterson smiled and leaned forward, sliding a thick, manila envelope across his desk.
“Passports for you both. Airfare, first class of course, and details on the resort where a suite is reserved in your name, Agent Bering. And some cash and a credit card, compliments of the President of the United States. Take Ms. Broussard and think about my offer.”
I had walked out of the director’s office so stunned I didn’t know what to do. The vacation was nice, but the thought that I was going to be exonerated would take a while to fully sink in. And I had a job offer to think about, and soon learned that Julie did as well.
Agent Johnson had asked her to join the analyst team as a research assistant. Not very glamorous, but it paid well and brought the only civilian in the world who was aware of the Athena Project into the fold. Both of us had already decided to accept the offers on the table.
“Oh, wait,” I said to Julie.
It was getting close to time to catch the resort shuttle and we’d left the gift shop without purchasing anything. On the way out, I’d seen something that reminded me I’d forgotten to pack a specific item. Running back inside, I grabbed a blinder, like air travelers wear over their eyes to block out light and get some sleep on a long flight.
All too clearly, I remembered sitting with Dr. Anholts as she sped through the footage from my implanted data chip. The one that recorded everything I saw. Seeing the momentary flash of Julie’s bare flesh.
I cared too much about her to have footage of our escapades recorded and available for government review. Paying for the blinder, I rushed back to where she waited for me.
“Seriously? What’s with you and either complete darkness, or wearing a blindfold? I’m starting to think there’s something wrong with me that you don’t want to see me naked. Or are you imagining someone else when you’re with me?”
“Absolutely nothing wrong with you,” I smiled, tucking the blinders into my pack. “And you are, without a doubt, the center of my attention when I’m with you. I promise.”
“Then what is it? Why the blinders?”
“You really don’t want to know,” I smiled, kissed her and led the way to the curb to board the bus.
59
“Are you still secure?”
“Yes. The director had a full review and vetting of all staff. I came out smelling like a rose.”
The two men were seated in a booth at the back of a dark restaurant. It was mid-afternoon and the lunch crowd had already departed. It was too early for dinner and, other than a tired waitress, they had the place to themselves.
“That’s good,” the older of the two said. “But there are concerns about your performance.”
“Fuck your concerns,” the younger man growled, taking the last sip of a beer. “I came out of this clean. I’m still in place. How many others can say that?”
“You didn’t follow your instructions.”
“There was no point. If I’d killed him by the time I located him, it could have drawn attention to me. It was too late. He’d already taken actions that stopped the plan. Maybe if I’d been given better information in a timelier manner, I could have intervened.”
They fell silent as the waitress walked up. She removed their empty glasses from the table and left a check when they declined to order more drinks.
“That nuance is the only reason you’re still walking around,” the older man said, placing cash on the table to cover the check. “However, there are additional concerns about the woman.”
“What concerns?”
“In your debrief, you mentioned that she commented you seemed familiar when she met you.”
“So what? She can’t remember something that didn’t happen.”
“But that’s the concern. What if she does? We’re dealing with a new frontier, Mr. Cox. There are too many unknowns when it comes to Time. Can you say for certain she won’t wake up one morning and remember you were the one who tortured and interrogated her? Who pressed a gun to her head and pulled the trigger?”
“No, I guess I can’t. But who would believe her? Where would the proof be?”
“The Director would not need proof. He understands that memories of events that can’t possibly have occurred are actually memories of parallel timelines. Timelines that collapsed. And the asset will as well. By your own report, he is becoming a formidable force.”
“Nothing I can’t handle when the time comes.”
“Perhaps,” the older man mused. “Regardless, the decision has been made. The young lady will be eliminated. Your position and access inside the Athena Project is too valuable to risk. Especially now. Events are already in motion for the next phase of the plan. We cannot allow her to remember why she felt she knew you.”
“Are those my orders?” Ray asked.
“No. We have another agent in place of whom you’re unaware. That individual will solve the problem, Mr. Cox.”
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