by Thorpe, K.
Marsh replies, “After reading the note, I took the liberty to examine the contents of that box. Agent Natan, can you make heads or tails of this?”
Natan looks at the box. “Not at the moment, Sir.” Natan is about to open the CD.
Marsh interrupts her, “There’s nothing in there. And, you mean to tell me that you don’t know why in blazing hell Alice would leave you these items in my office?”
Natan shakes her head no. Marsh continues, “Well, that makes two of us. I smell manure, Agent Natan. Do you smell it?”
Natan looks around. “Sir?”
“Find out where it’s coming from, will ya?” he says cordially.
“Yes, Sir,” she agrees.
“Oh…and one more thing, Agent Natan,” he asks.
Natan turns back to Marsh. “Yes, Sir?”
“Word’s out that you’re having Specialist Ramon do a little project for you.” Marsh looks at Natan with concern.
Natan tries to explain, “It’s a…”
Marsh puts his hand up. “I don’t want to know about it…just don’t let Baxter find out about it.”
Natan give him a nod of thanks. “Yes, Sir.” She takes the box and leaves the office.
In the hallway outside Marsh’s office Natan pulls the piece of paper that she found at Alice’s house from her pocket, placing it at the bottom of the new note. It matches the missing bottom piece of the note perfectly. Knight and Kalin approach, duffel bags in hand. Natan quickly jams the piece of paper and the note back into her pocket.
Kalin meanders up to her. “Well, hello there, Agent Natan. How’s desk duty treating ya?” Knight nudges Kalin as he approaches Natan.
“I’ll bet it’s almost as exciting as your field work, Agent Kalin,” Natan retorts.
Knight sees the box and recognizes his gun magazine inside. He reaches in and grabs it. “What’s this?” Not waiting for a response, he continues, “Agent Kalin, didn’t you say you were missing a mag at the range today?” Knight tosses the magazine to Kalin.
Kalin is intrigued. “What the hell? You trying to sabotage my shoot scores, Agent Natan?”
The hair rises on the back of Natan’s neck. She replies, “You have unlimited capabilities in that department yourself, Kalin.”
Kalin questions, “Well then, why don’t you tell me how my gun magazine ended up in your possession.”
Knight pretends to try to contain the problem he just created. “Come on, guys.”
Natan leans into Kalin. “Marsh just gave me this box. If you have questions, take them up with him.”
Kalin looks in the box. “Who else’s stuff have you got in there?” He grabs the shot glass. “This looks familiar.”
Knight intervenes by stepping in between Natan and Kalin. “It’s just a misunderstanding guys…come on,” Knight encourages. Pushing Knight out of the way, Natan grabs the glass back.
Kalin chastises her, “Woo…hoo…hoo. Touchy, aren’t ya.”
Natan’s voice hardens. “Alice left this stuff with Marsh.” She steps into Kalin’s face. “You got a problem…take it up with him.”
Kalin looks down at Natan. “Who knows, maybe she wanted to make you an office gift box made of everyone else’s stuff.”
Knight separates the two of them, noticing that Natan has a nose bleed. “Agent
Natan…you’re bleeding.” Natan touches underneath her nose. Knight reaches into his pocket, pulls out, and hands her a tissue.
“Thanks. It’s nothing,” she replies. Knight looks at Natan and then back at the box.
Amanda walks up the hallway, approaching the group from behind. “Agent Natan, Mr. Ramon told me I would find you here,” she says.
Natan collects herself. “Ms. Clark. You’re still here?”
Amanda approaches, eyeing Knight and Kalin. “It took longer than I thought, but I think he got a pretty accurate picture.”
Kalin interrupts, “What are you working on, Agent Natan?”
Natan shoots Kalin a look to back off. “A favor. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
Kalin continues, “Ringside seats to watch Natan’s career crash and burn…now this I got to see.”
Natan focuses on Amanda. “Thanks again for coming in. I’ll call you if we find anything.”
Amanda takes the hint. “No problem. Take it easy.” Amanda walks away, toward the direction of the elevator. Natan walks the other direction.
“I have to meet Specialist Ramon. Do you mind, Agent Kalin?”
“Not at all, Agent Natan.” Kalin taps Knight on the chest. “Come on.” Kalin and a reluctant Knight follow her onto the elevator. The doors close.
Inside the elevator Natan, Kalin, and Knight stand together. Natan is annoyed.
Kalin can’t keep quiet. “I haven’t visited Mr. Ramon in quite some time. How
about you, Agent Knight?
Knight is silent. The elevator opens. Natan gets off the elevator and Kalin and Knight follow her down the hallway.
Knight speaks in a lowered voice to Natan, “Are you working a case…because you know you’re not supposed to be?”
“It’s not a case,” Natan replies. She gets to another office at the end of the hallway.
A sign on the door reads “SPECIALTY LAB.” Natan knocks on the door, opens
it, and goes inside. Knight and Kalin follow, bags in hand.
Mark Ramon, an honest fellow of short stature and kind eyes, sees Natan coming
with the fellas. “Agent Natan. Gentlemen,” he addresses them.
Kalin chimes in, “Long time, Marky Mark? How you been?”
“Not bad, Kal-el…yourself?” Ramon replies.
Kalin eyes Natan. “Things have definitely been looking up lately.” Ramon watches the exchange, looking at Natan and then at Knight and Kalin. Knight meanders around the room, observing two chairs facing each other in the background. One chair has an artist’s easel in front of it holding a sketch pad and chalk.
“What’re you guys doing here?” Ramon inquires.
Kalin spots Knight looking at the sketch on the easel. “What do ya got over there?” Kalin ignores Ramon’s question and heads over to Knight.
Ramon leans in to Natan. “Agent Natan, is everything all right?”
Natan touches Ramon’s arm. “Don’t worry about it, Mark. You can’t stop a giant boulder from rolling down a hill, so just get outta the way.”
Ramon nods with understanding, moving in closer to Natan. He whispers, “I was able to scan a few copies. They’re on my desk…but I didn’t have enough time to copy as many as either of us would have liked.”
“I’m sure it’s fine, Mark,” she replies. Natan walks over to where Kalin and Knight stand. Mark follows. Kalin appears upset and rushes past Natan, dropping his duffel.
Kalin’s interest is piqued. “I know that tattoo,” he says to Knight. “Where’s the Bureau book you guys keep of gang tattoos?” he asks Ramon, who motions to a bookshelf across the room.
“It’s on the shelf. That’s my only copy. Why?” No reply. Knight follows Kalin. Natan makes her way over to the drawing. She gasps as she catches sight of the picture. Ramon rushes over to her.
On the other side of the room Kalin pulls a huge notebook down from the bookshelf and starts flipping through pages. “What’re you doing, man?” Knight asks a suddenly manic Kalin.
“Trust me, Agent Knight, I know this tattoo,” Kalin replies.
Natan stands in front of the picture with Ramon as the two have their own discussion. “I’ve seen this guy before,” Natan says in a lowered voice.
“Where?” Ramon replies.
“On the street a few weeks back.”
Ramon replies, “I thought this guy was seen casing an office at the Maryland University.”
Natan replies, “He was.”
On the other side of the room Kalin stops on a page with a tattoo of red angels’ wings. He points at the photo of the tattoo for Knight. “I told ya.”
Across the room Natan tou
ches the tattoo on the drawing. Knight and Kalin listen
in the background. “I wish Alice was here...she could run it through the database,” Natan tells Ramon quietly.
Kalin walks back over to Natan and Mark with notebook in hand. Knight is on his heels. Kalin can’t help but banter with Natan, “Let the poor lady have her vacation, Agent Natan…she’s evidently in need of one, lifting my gun accessories and all.”
Ramon whispers an aside to Natan, “I know a guy at the Bureau. I’ll give it to him and see what he can find.” Natan acknowledges his attempt to help with a quiet thank you.
“Agent Natan, where do you know this guy from?” Kalin asks.
“I don’t know him,” she replies.
“Well…why is Mr. Ramon, our favorite forensic artist, drawing pictures of him?” Kalin retorts.
Natan is silent. Kalin pushes the book in front of Natan, opening it to the page with the tattoo of red angels’ wings. Kalin continues, “I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into, Agent Natan.”
Natan looks at the photo of the tattoo and back at the drawing. “How did you find
this?” she asks.
Kalin checks his cockiness for one brief moment. “I used to work at the Bureau in L.A. This tattoo is a cult design…”
“A cult design?” Natan looks curious as Knight listens intently in the background. Ramon removes the sketch pad from the easel and lays it flat on another table.
Kalin continues pointing to the tat. “Yep…they’re called Devil’s Wings. This tattoo belongs to a Satanic Cult that originated on the West coast. I had no idea they were on this side of the country now. These guys are some serious bad news.”
Natan watches Mark shade some perimeters of the drawing. Knight blends into
the background, quietly flipping through pages on Mark’s desk.
“That’s it,” Natan says under her breath. She walks away, discretely grabbing some of Mark’s chalk on her way out.
Kalin calls after her, “Agent Natan…where’re you going?”
“Thanks, Mark,” Natan says over her shoulder. Mark nods a you’re welcome to Natan.
Kalin continues, “Agent Natan…these people are cold-blooded killers. You don’t want to get mixed up in this…even with your terrorism experience. It just doesn’t compare.”
Natan replies, “Don’t worry about it, Kalin. I’m on desk duty, remember?”
Kalin is about to respond when he sees Knight slip one of the copy pages into his own duffel.
Chapter Forty-six
Inside a private office Natan sits alone with Alice’s new note and the paper she found at Alice’s place lying out in front of her as a complete page. Natan grabs the chalk from her pocket. Using her index finger, she feels the smaller paper, then takes the chalk and begins to shade it. The chalk illuminates some writing. Letters appear in white. It’s wax based…quick and brilliant, Alice. Natan recalls touching the wax pencil in Alice’s pen holder when she was at her house earlier.
Natan stares at the paper in her hand. It reads “JACQUELINE NATAN.”
What does my adoptive mother have to do with this, Alice? What are you trying to tell me?
Looking for anything she might have missed, Natan enters Alice’s new office.
The office is quietly loud and ominously vacant. She searches frantically, flipping through papers on Alice’s desk. Natan spots the notepad where the note and torn piece came from. She searches wall-lined file cabinets, rifling through files. Natan grabs Alice’s computer mouse, trying to gain access.
The computer reads “REQUESTING PASSWORD” as it blinks at Natan.
Natan ignores it, opening Alice’s desk drawers as she makes her way through additional files, stopping on one file in particular. Natan stands with a police file in her hand that reads “Jacqueline Natan—CASE CLOSED.”
Natan stands in the office with file in hand as the password continues to blink at
her, demanding attention that she cannot give to it.
Inside Baxter’s office Knight sits in a chair in front of Baxter’s desk.
“Sir, this is getting out of hand,” Knight says, concerned.
“There’s no turning back now, Agent Knight. Alice has been taken care of…Agent Natan is teetering on the edge. If you can find one more piece of incriminating evidence, she’s gone.” Baxter answers.
A collage of Baxter’s vacation photos litter a section of wall in his office. One photo in particular is of Baxter winning big in a casino in Vegas next to a photo of Baxter and a colleague smiling and standing in front of a building, Vegas Desert Annex.
“This isn’t what I signed on for,” Knight says with worry.
Miscellaneous vacation adornments sit on a shelf underneath the photos, including a Hawaiian lei, a cowboy statue, a marble miniature slot machine, and others.
Baxter continues, “Lest you forget that you came to me, Agent Knight. You begged me for this chance. Just be grateful that I gave it to you.”
A clear circle surrounded by dust sits silently on that shelf that used to house a Las Vegas shot glass at the back of the vacation memorabilia.
Baxter stands, rounds his desk, and positions himself behind Knight, putting his hands on Knight’s shoulders. “We’re in it through the finish,” he says to Knight, as a worried cloud enshrouds Knight’s entire face.
Chapter Forty-seven
Natan stands in the doorway of Alice’s old, bare office. Hidden inside the ceiling, out of view from Natan, lies the missing disc, sitting on four corners of the ceiling tiles within the ceiling itself. Natan runs her fingers through her hair. What are you trying to tell me, Alice? Natan looks one last time, and after finding nothing, flips the light switch off.
Inside an underground facility on the outskirts of Las Vegas, a terrified, wide-eyed Alice lies in a hospital gown, with a rubber mouth restraint and her hands and feet strapped to a gurney. Calming classical music emanates from the selectively placed speaker system.
A doctor stands over a helpless Alice as he flips through the pages of a clipboard
in hand, “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Warren,” he says, “You’ll be taken very good care of.” He smiles at her terror. “Our facility is one of the best on this side of the country and, well, with your government health plan, you’ll receive the best treatment we can give you.” The doctor sets the clipboard on Alice’s chest. He pulls out a syringe filled with clear fluid. He flicks the syringe twice and then injects it into Alice’s forearm. Her eyes relax almost shut.
“Take her to room two,” he says to a nearby orderly. The orderly nods okay as he wheels Alice away quietly and slowly down the hallway. A medicated Alice hears only the squeaky wheel as she is rolled toward a room labeled “IN-PATIENT.”
Baxter’s voice filters through Knight’s memory as he stands alone in the dark inside the empty N.S.A. general offices. “Don’t worry, Agent Knight. When we’re done with her, she’ll barely be able to remember her own name.” Knight cups his face in his hands.
Epilogue
During the obscenely late hours of the night, Natan sits alone on her couch attempting to reconcile her demons so that she can find a way to help Alice, the professor, and most of all, herself. She picks up a pen and notepad from the nearby coffee table and proceeds to document, according to her therapist’s, Christine’s, instructions.
Natan sets the unmoving pen against the blank page and waits for the transformation to begin. There is nothing. Emptiness consumes the page as the pen yearns for expression. Natan waits patiently, feeling the welling up within her. As the strokes finally emerge, this is what she writes:
In the far corners of the mind one can find themselves in a state of awareness or delirium, the space between the two only a sliver of what one would imagine it to be. Somewhere between this gap of reality and fantasy one must carefully teeter to find the real meaning. Faith is tested by the delicate interweaving of balance that defines this point. Fear and doubt are vengeful particip
ants in this realm of in between, accompanying all who wait here.
Natan’s pen stops, as if taking a breath of recognition, then resumes again, urgently writing the words,
And so it begins, the emergence of the prophet.
A shocked Natan drops her pen, realizing what she has written.
