by Mike Ryan
“Why?”
“Well, it seems to be the only thing missing in those reports.”
“What exactly is it you want?”
“I wanna talk to either their handlers or the psych evaluation expert you use,” Lawson said.
“For what purpose? I don’t understand what it’s gonna get you?”
“I wanna get a deeper understanding of who these men are. There’s only so much you can learn about someone from a piece of paper. I’ve never met them before, but the psych guy has.”
“17’s dead. What else do you need to learn?”
“But Smith isn’t. He’s out there somewhere and if I can get inside his head a little, maybe I can pinpoint where he is.”
Davenport smiled, thinking she was way out of her league. “You know, no matter who you talk to, whatever you read, it isn’t going to bring you closer to finding John Smith. He’s a world class operator who isn’t going to be found by some pencil pusher.”
“That’s what you think of me as? A pencil pusher?” Lawson asked.
“Look, you strike me as a nice person. Maybe you’ve worked on some important things and been a good handler to a few agents. But nobody outside this project is just going to waltz in here and find John Smith at the snap of their fingers,” Davenport said. “You know when he’ll be found? When he wants to be.”
“Since we seem to be laying all our cards out on the table, perhaps you can explain to me your reasoning for trying to terminate him to begin with?”
“It’s all in the reports.”
“No, it’s not. You really expect me to believe you tried to kill him just because he wanted to quit and go live with his girlfriend? Do I look like an idiot? Smith had an exemplary record. No verbal warnings, no written counselings, drew tough assignments, had over a ninety percent completion record, and you decided to get rid of him on a whim.”
“It’s in the report, I’ve said it before, we viewed him as a security risk,” Davenport said tersely. “Yes, he was a good agent. But in our view, he was breaking down, he was starting to go haywire. He was starting to lose focus on his assignments, his mind was elsewhere, he wasn’t giving everything he could in our estimation. He’d already told his girlfriend he worked for the government. It was our belief, as time went on, he’d divulge more critical information. Sure, right then, he wasn’t a threat to us. But in five years, ten years, the longer he was out, the more classified information he could reveal. I decided it wasn’t worth the risk so I put out the order so we would never have to worry about him. Does that satisfy you?”
“Not really. I mean, it’s been what, three years now?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Well, has there ever been any indication he’s leaked any secret information since he’s been gone?”
“It’s always easier to second guess when you don’t have a foot in the game.”
“Maybe so. But considering what you tried to do to him, if he hasn’t told any secrets by now, I’d say the chances are good he never will,” Lawson said.
“Well what difference does it make now? What’s done is done.”
“You’re right. But I’d still like to talk to someone who’s evaluated him.”
Davenport didn’t immediately respond, instead taking a step back as he sized up his adversary, wondering what she was up to. He knew she had something in mind she wasn’t sharing. Even though Lawson was now in charge of Smith’s file, he still wanted to be in the loop of what was happening. Davenport sat again as he considered her request.
“What exactly is it you’re hoping to find?” Davenport asked.
“I want to see what type of mind frame he thinks Smith has.”
“Well what difference would it make?”
“You said it yourself. We’ll only find him when he wants to be found,” Lawson said.
“And the significance to that is?”
“I’m sure a man like him still has connections, sources, he’s still got his eyes and ears open as to what we’re doing.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“So maybe we get the word out we’re looking for him. That we wanna talk.”
“Talk? Talk about what?”
“Correcting wrongs. Making things right again,” Lawson said.
Davenport took a few seconds to analyze her words and think them over, concluding she was crazy. He snapped up straight in his chair and leaned forward to get his point across.
“Are you seriously considering what I think you are?” Davenport asked. “’Cause it sounds to me like you’re thinking about bringing him back in.”
“Maybe. Now you understand why I wanna see and talk to the evaluator.”
“You’re crazy if you think Smith’s ever gonna come walking through my door and work for us again.”
“Well, he’d never do it for you. For someone else, maybe.”
“That’s just...that’s…”
Lawson wasn’t really interested in any of his objections though, cutting him off before he could finish whatever it was he had an issue with. “I don’t really care what your thoughts are on the matter, Mr. Davenport. For the record, you’ve had three years to either find him or close the issue entirely. You’ve failed on both counts. Now, unfortunately, it’s up to me to clean up the mess you created. Quite frankly, one which never should’ve been created to begin with. So now, are you going to give me the information I’m requesting? Or should I go over your head and call Director Roberts to get what I want?”
Davenport leaned back in his chair, a little agitated at the woman standing in front of him, taking over his case. He knew as much as he resisted though, he couldn’t really fight it. This was all orchestrated by Director Roberts and Davenport knew that if Lawson wanted it, she’d get it. Director Roberts was the one who wanted this and appointed her so Davenport knew he didn’t have a leg to stand on no matter what it was he objected to. Even though it was against his better judgment, Davenport lifted the phone and called down to the psych evaluator.
“Brian, I’m sending someone down to see you,” Davenport said. “She wants to get information on a couple of agents. 17 and John Smith. Director Roberts has tasked her with finding Smith so give her whatever she needs.”
Davenport hung up and locked eyes with Lawson, neither of them saying a word for a minute. The Centurion director did not look the least bit pleased at having to take orders from her, believing that she didn’t have a clue what she was doing.
“Thank you,” Lawson said.
“You can thank me when you’re finally done here.”
Lawson smiled, not at all upset at Davenport not seeming to enjoy her company. “So where can I find this guy?”
“Brian Bernier. Office 508, fifth floor.”
Lawson quickly turned around and stormed out of the office and headed for the elevator. As soon as she got out on the fifth floor, she could immediately tell this floor was less hectic. It was actually kind of eerie how quiet it was. As she looked up and down the hall, she didn’t notice one person roaming around. The walls were painted a dark gray, the carpeting was dark, everything seemed so devoid of life. It was a complete deviation from what she found on the sixth floor, where everything seemed bright and modern. Even the lighting on the fifth floor seemed sparse, not to mention there wasn’t one door or office you could see into from the outside. They were all closed off to wandering eyes. There were no glass offices or doors on this floor. In reality, the fifth floor was used exclusively for testing purposes, as well as physical and mental evaluations. It was a floor nobody ever really wanted to visit. And nobody would unless they were ordered to do so. Lawson quickly found office 508 and slowly pushed the door open, unsure what to expect. She was almost immediately greeted by a man sitting at a desk. He was an elderly man, looked slightly overweight, probably in his mid-sixties, with gray hair and glasses.
“You must be Sam Davenport’s protégé,” the man said.
“Well, I doubt he’d put it quite that way,” Lawson said. �
�I’m sure he’d call me a few other things first.”
The man laughed. “I’m Brian Bernier, the psych evaluator here. Sit, please.”
“Thank you. My name’s Michelle Lawson.”
“A pleasure. I understand you’re looking for information on 17 and John Smith.”
“Yes. Mostly on Smith, though.”
“What exactly would you like to know?” Bernier said.
“Well I’ve read all the reports, the ones they’ve written, the ones written on them, their assignments, everything. But to find Smith, I guess I’m hoping to find out what makes him tick.”
“Well, 17 was a very good agent. He was confident, maybe overly so at times, a bit cocky, had a definite mean streak in him. But he always got the job done. Loved his work. Maybe too much.”
“And Smith?”
“Very driven. He wanted to be the best. Professional, set in his ways, somewhat of a loner,” Bernier said.
“Are you aware of what became of the both of them?” Lawson asked.
“Well I know 17 was killed in an airport in Ohio and Smith disappeared after he was scheduled to be terminated, if that’s what you’re inferring.”
“Were you consulted before the order was given on Smith?”
Bernier didn’t answer at first, instead taking a second to collect his thoughts and determining what he was willing to reveal. Lawson could tell he was beginning to hedge a little and sought to alleviate any concerns he might have had.
“I’m not here to get anyone in trouble,” Lawson said. “I’ve been tasked by Director Roberts with finding the man who killed 17 and with finding John Smith. They may well be one and the same thing. Anything you tell me will not leave this room and anything you say will not be held or used against you in any way.”
Sensing a trustworthy person sitting in front of him, Bernier finally relented and decided not to hold anything back. “I was not consulted on the Smith action.”
“Are you aware of the circumstances that led to the decision?”
“They believed he became a security risk, I was told.”
“And what do you think?”
Bernier once again didn’t reply immediately. The strain on his face told Lawson he was hesitant to relay his true feelings on the matter. “It’s not my job to make those decisions.”
“It’s not what I asked, doctor. In your opinion, was John Smith a security risk?” Lawson asked.
“In my opinion, no. He was not.”
“Why did you believe he wasn’t?”
“As I said, he was a driven man. But from my experience, agents who turn against their country are usually driven by three things: money, power, and revenge. None of those things would have described John Smith at the time.”
“What did describe him?”
“Like I said, he was driven by his need to help people, help his country. Money didn’t motivate him. He wasn’t interested in power. And there was nothing in his life he felt the need to get revenge for.”
“Did you know about his girlfriend?” Lawson asked.
“We talked about it once. He felt conflicted about his relationship with her.”
“How so?”
“It was a new experience for him. His entire adult life he’d been a loner. He went from a military unit to government work, never really having any time to devote to another person. He wasn’t sure he could continue having a relationship and do the job he did. He wasn’t sure he could turn the switch off from violent killer to loving boyfriend then back again. He wasn’t sure he could love someone, or have someone love him, while he did the things he did. He viewed himself as somewhat of a monster, someone not deserving of another’s affection.”
“And yet he considered leaving for her?”
“She made him feel like a normal person, like he wasn’t the things he thought himself to be. The longer he was with her, the more he liked it, the more he thought he could be something else,” Bernier said.
“After his girlfriend was killed, do you think he would’ve sought revenge on the man who did it?”
“If you’re asking whether he would’ve sought the man responsible, then yes. He wouldn’t think of it as revenge though.”
“How would he look at it then?”
“He’s a man who lives on principles, on his own code of conduct. He follows his own rules. He’s a man who protects those who can’t protect themselves. He’s got a strong sense of justice. He would look at it as righting a wrong, bringing the man responsible to justice.”
“That would explain it then,” Lawson said to herself.
“Explain what?”
“If Smith killed 17, it would explain why he never went after anyone else who was involved. He didn’t go after his handler, or anyone else he perceived to be in on it.”
“Because he’s not interested in revenge, per se,” Bernier said. “He’s mostly interested in righting wrongs, protecting others, then he is on extracting retribution. He understands the business he’s in, the life he leads, that sometimes he’s going to be in danger and have to defend himself. Sometimes against people he might trust. He doesn’t view those others as anything other than doing what killers do. Killing an innocent civilian, though, in his mind, would be reprehensible.”
“So, revealing secrets or classified information isn’t something you think he’d do?”
“Not in his DNA. He told his girlfriend he worked on a secret government project he wasn’t at liberty to discuss further. She never pressed him on it.”
“And even with her gone and after what was done to him, he’d never go back on that?” Lawson said.
“It’s been what, three years? If he hasn’t done it by now he never will.”
“If he’s found, do you think he could be brought back in?”
“What an interesting proposition,” Bernier said. “Under the right circumstances, yes. He’s still never betrayed his country, even after almost being eliminated and his girlfriend killed. It wouldn’t be easy though. It’d have to be the right person asking. As you can imagine, he wouldn’t be very trusting of many people right about now.”
“But you do think it’s possible?”
“If you appeal to his sense of morals and he feels he can trust you, then yes, I do think it’s possible.”
“Where do you think a man like him would wind up after all this time?” Lawson asked.
“Hmm...interesting question. I would imagine he would hide out for a little while, lay low, try to stay out of sight for a while. But it wouldn’t be for long. A man like him has a strong sense of morality, doing what’s right, protecting people. I’d imagine, even if he wanted to stay hidden, he’d be drawn out by his perception of helping others. He has an unbelievable set of skills and he’d want to use them.”
“Small town or a big city?”
“I would think he’d choose a big city. Plenty of opportunity to do what he does without the fear of being recognized.”
“Really? You don’t think he’d choose a smaller city for that purpose?”
“No. When you think about it, if he does the things he’s capable of, and he unleashes the beast inside him, if he does it in a smaller town, he’s going to stand out.”
“But in a bigger city he can blend in,” Lawson said.
“Exactly.”
“Any ideas as to what city he’d choose?”
“I would say somewhere along the east coast,” Bernier said.
“Why the east coast?”
“It’s what he’s familiar with. Centurion’s in New York, his girlfriend was in Florida, if he killed 17, he was in Ohio. See the pattern?”
“Why wouldn’t he go to the west coast, or even leave the country? Why would he stay here? Wouldn’t he think it’s more dangerous for him?”
“I don’t believe he even considers the danger factor. I don’t think he’s concerned about being found. He’s the type who believes if someone’s looking for him, they’ll eventually find him, wherever he may be.”
/> “Do you think he’d be alone? Would he have help?”
“Most likely alone. If he’s not, it’s a small number, maybe one or two others he’d consider trustworthy enough to not turn on him. If there are others, then they’re probably also on the run from something.”
“Thank you, doctor, you’ve been a big help.”
“My pleasure.”
“Just one more question. Have you ever conveyed any of this to Davenport or anyone else involved in Centurion?” Lawson said.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“They’ve never asked.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Honestly, I don’t think they were ever too concerned about finding him,” Bernier said. “As long as he was out of the picture, that’s what was important to them.”
“Why?”
“I think they realized what kind of mistake they made and any attempt to bring it into the forefront would make them look...not so good. Out of sight, out of mind.”
“And the death of 17 brought it back into the limelight.”
“It did.”
“Anything else you’d like to add?”
“The few times I talked to Smith, he seemed like a good man. I wish you luck in your travels. If you’re hellbent on finding him, I’d suggest you start by looking at cities where the crime rate has gone up, specifically murders.”
7
Recker had been waiting outside of the club for several hours. He was standing across the street, leaning up against the building, just watching and waiting for his intended victim to arrive. The club didn’t open until nine, but Recker got there early to conduct some surveillance and just get a general feel for the area. He saw Laine walk into the club about eight o’clock. He came back out about half an hour later to start dealing with some of the crowd as the line started forming. Judging from the amount of people waiting to go in, Recker assumed it was a fairly popular place. Though the club was located in the middle of the street, there were small walkways located on both sides of the building, leading to a larger parking lot in the back of the property.
Recker patiently waited for the right time to strike. He fielded a couple of phone calls from Jones while he waited, wanting to see if he’d done the job yet. But Recker said he was waiting for the crowd to die down a little. He also saw there were security cameras on the entrance, as well as the corner of both sides of the building. Killing Laine might not be as easy as he thought it’d be. He could’ve just picked a spot somewhere and took a sniper shot at Laine from across the street, but somehow, it seemed like taking the easy way out to Recker. Anybody could do that. It took a special kind of person to kill someone up close. But he also felt as if avoiding the cameras was going to be a bit of a challenge. He didn’t see a way he could’ve avoided them if he was going to do it there. But as he thought about it, he could sense he was getting overanxious and pressing. Two things he normally didn’t do. He was usually very patient in waiting for one of his victims. But for some reason, he was trying to force this one. Maybe it was because he was feeling the CIA heat he was trying to hurry things along so he could get back to working out whether he was at risk. All he had to do was wait a few hours more until the club was closed. He already knew Laine’s address. If he just waited until the business was closed, he could just follow Laine home and avoid the security cameras.
