The Agent's Daughter

by Ron Corriveau

  “Are you talking about the hang glider that you used when you did that stunt a few years ago?” William said with obvious disdain.

  “That’s the one,” Evan responded.

  “But that desert in Malazistan is as flat as a pancake,” William sneered. “There isn’t a hill within fifty miles of that facility.”

  “I know,” Evan said with contempt. “I’ve been in that desert.”

  Then Evan turned to David. “Do you have any of those multifaceted stealth containers in the building? You know the ones about the size of a small car that you guys use to deliver supplies by parachute to the field agents without being detected?”

  “Supplies for the field agents are handled by the support group in the nearest friendly country, but we do have one of those containers in our lab,” David replied.

  Evan sat back in his chair. “Madam President, I think I know how we can get your information.”

  ………………………….

  “Over here, Evan,” David Winfield said from across the room.

  Evan closed the door to the tools lab and walked over to where David was standing. Towering over him was a tall black cylinder with rounded domes at each end. On the front of the cylinder were two doors, which were open to reveal a large interior cavity.

  “Here it is,” David said, pointing to the object on the floor in front of him. “The MAC-25 Stealth Supply Container or SSC for short. It is used to resupply agents in the field, and it is twelve feet tall, four feet in diameter and can hold up to two tons of supplies under its parachute.”

  “That was a great introduction,” Evan interrupted. “Can you do it in a TV announcer voice?”

  David smiled and continued. “To appear stealthy, it has thousands of black radar reflecting facets. Combined with the rounded domes at either end it has the radar signature of a marble. It is resistant to high winds, and its carbon fiber construction is designed to shatter into a million pieces upon impact with the ground, leaving nothing but a large crate of supplies.

  Evan gave it a long look up and down. “I am sure it is the most technologically advanced box on the planet, but you realize that the agents in the field just call it the giant monster pill, or GMP. That is pronounced ‘gimp.’”

  “I did not know that, but yeah, it does look somewhat like a giant pill,” David said, smiling. “You are lucky that we still have one. We got it about two months ago so we could perform some wind tunnel tests. We planned to give it back last week, but one of the technicians in the group had already put some cushions in it and turned it into a couch for the lab. We told the supply guys that we lost it.”

  “On the phone, you said that you were able to find the old glider,” Evan said.

  “Yes, we found it,” David replied. “ We had to look way in the back of our storeroom. It was still in the crate from when you used it last, and all of the pieces are still with it.”

  “That’s great,” Evan said.

  “Okay then,” David said. “Let’s talk about your plan.”

  Evan had experienced conversations with his tools group contact that had started this way before. Invariably, they ended with a list of reasons why his plans would not work.

  “As you described it to me upstairs, your plan is to put you and the glider inside the SSC. Then, the SSC would be dropped from an airplane, and when it is low enough, the SSC would fall away, at which time you would float down under the parachute and put the glider together?”

  “That’s the plan. Any problems?” Evan asked.

  David slapped Evan on the back. “Many. But I’ll give you credit. At least you are thinking. You are correct, though. The glider cannot be dropped intact from an airplane because a plane can’t go slow enough for it not to be torn to shreds by the wind. Protecting it with the SSC on the way down is an excellent idea. The problem we have is that, unlike the previous time that you used it, you cannot just assemble it in midair. The crosswinds at that altitude would rip it right out of your hands.”

  “I was hoping that, under an open parachute, the winds would be going slow enough to allow me to assemble it. There are only two key parts that need to be snapped into place.”

  “The wind would still be a problem,” David said. “I have a better idea though. One of the guys in our group is an excellent mechanical engineer that has some experience with retractable joints.”

  “Retractable joints?” Evan asked.

  “Yeah,” David said. “He used to work on one of the NASA spacecraft that landed on Mars. Everything that traveled on any of the Mars spacecraft had to collapse down into some freakishly small form factor for the trip. Then it would spring back into normal size when it got there. They got particularly skilled at making the joints that allowed that to happen. He says that getting this glider to collapse down into a configuration that will fit into the supply container and then spring into a usable form at the push of a button would be, how did he put it, ‘junior level NASA engineer work’.”

  “Well then,” Evan said. “Sounds as though we have that covered.”

  David gestured to the inside of the supply container. “And as far as getting you and the radiation instrument in here as well, we can rig up some harnesses and latches to make the sequence from airplane drop to level hang glider flight as seamless as possible.”

  “That’s perfect. What planes will these SSCs fit into?” Evan asked.

  “I’ve put into my mission plan that we need the use of a B2 stealth bomber for the drop,” David said.

  “Mission plan?” Evan asked. “You mean you are on-board with this crazy scheme?”

  David laughed. “I’m confident that we can work through all of the technical issues. I have scheduled a mission briefing for this afternoon. Is three o’ clock okay?”

  “Absolutely,” Evan said, looking at his watch.

  “That reminds me,” David said. “I have a new watch for you. You have had that one a year already.”

  All of the agents were issued a standard watch. While ordinary looking, the watches held a small assortment of smart functions. For instance, hidden behind a retractable watch face was a tiny projector lens that could display an image up to two feet square on any flat surface, even during the daytime. Agents used this feature in the field to display preprogrammed maps or the exact location of the agent as calculated by the integrated GPS receiver. The watch also had the ability to send out a homing signal that allowed the agency to track the agent’s location anywhere in the world.

  “I sure could use a new watch,” Evan said as he took off his old watch and put on the new one. “This one is pretty beaten up. Did they add any new features?”

  “No. Just software upgrades this year.”

  “Did they fix that problem with the dictation feature?”

  “What problem with the dictation feature?” David asked.

  “When you record a message using it, then go to play the message back later, there is a delay of about thirty seconds before the message is retrieved and starts playing. Agency watches have had this problem for a couple of years now. I heard that it was a software issue.”

  “I don’t know if they fixed it in this release of the watch software,” David said. “Why don’t you try it and see.”

  “Okay,” Evan said as he initiated the dictation feature on the watch and began speaking into it. “Hey software doofus, did you finally fix the dictation feature?”

  David smiled, “Okay, then. How about a playback?”

  Evan pushed the playback button on the watch. They looked at each other as they listened in silence. For thirty seconds. Then from the watch speaker came the message ‘Hey software doofus, did you finally fix the dictation feature?’

  “Apparently not,” David said.

  “Oh well,” Evan said. “They will fix it eventually. Well I better get out of here.”

  Evan turned to leave. “See you at the briefing.

  “Evan, wait,” David said. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
r />   “Sure,” Evan said. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Well … it’s a question that my son has,” David said. “He wants to know if your daughter is aware. You know, so he knows what not to say to her. He has been aware since the beginning of summer.”

  Evan thought for a moment. The agents called being aware when a family member knew what the agent did for a living. Those with kids usually kept their agent status a secret until they reached high school, although, in some rare instances, the kids were never made aware.

  “No,” Evan said. “Melina is not aware. We were going to tell her this past summer, but then Laura …”

  David interrupted. “I am sorry, Evan. You don’t need to say anything else. Alex just wanted to know her status. They are friends, and he did not want to slip up and say something. ”

  “Tell your son that I appreciate his discretion and that I am still thinking about how to tell her,” Evan said as he turned again to leave. “I’ll see you at the briefing.”

  Chapter 3

  As she did every school day since she started being dropped off by her dad, Melina went straight for the school library. It was quiet there, and she could indulge in her passion for reading. She had loved reading as far back as she could remember. When she was younger, her mom read stories to her every night from a special volume of short bedtime stories. There were stories about frogs and bugs and dogs and horses and all of them could speak. And there were stories about fairies. She especially loved the stories about fairies. There were the weather fairies, the jewel fairies and even the holiday fairies. There was just something about characters that possessed some remarkable power that she found appealing.

  When Melina became a little older, and she started reading on her own, her dad suggested some books that she might like where the main characters were strong females. Books where the woman or girl saved the day. This was a revelation to her, and she read every one of the books of that type she could get her hands on. Even now, it was the only sort of book that she read. The more danger that the heroine faced the more she liked it.

  Melina had been reading for about twenty minutes when she was approached by Mrs. Wharton, the school librarian.

  “I saw that you came in early today. You usually don’t come in until later.”

  “Yeah. My dad had to be to work a bit earlier today,” Melina said.

  “All the more time to read,” Mrs. Wharton said, smiling. “Have you begun reading the book that I gave to you yesterday? The one with that fantastic underwater machine built by the girl and her friend?”

  “Do you mean this one?” Melina said, holding up the book she was reading. “I am just finishing it now. Just a few pages left.”

  Mrs. Wharton put her hand over her mouth. “My word, child. I have never seen anyone that can read as fast as you.”

  “The book wasn’t that long, just 250 pages.” Melina replied, holding up the book. “Nice story, though. I am glad that you recommended it to me. If I don’t end up as a diplomat or ambassador, I’ve thought about doing that for a living when I get older … recommending books, I mean. As a book publisher.”

  “Well I am sure that you would be great at it,” Mrs. Wharton said. “You have read just about every book in this-”

  Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

  The conversation was interrupted by the first of several loud bells that alert the students to get to class. This was the ten-minute bell.

  Melina grabbed her book and put her backpack on her shoulder. “Excuse me, Mrs. Wharton. I have to catch up with someone. I’ll see you later.”

  Catch up indeed. She only hoped that Jean was not her usual late self today.

  ………………………….

  “I’m confused, and I don’t know what I should do.”

  Jean finished putting her books in her locker and turned around to see Melina standing there.

  “Well, for starters, I wouldn’t have worn that shirt with those pants and you should reconsider that choice for a hairstyle. Kinda dorky if you ask me.”

  Melina looked down at her shirt and back to Jean. “Be serious!” Melina said. “I have my first class with Alex since my little meltdown yesterday, and I don’t know what to say to him.”

  “I told you that I explained to him why you were upset and that he said he understood,” Jean answered, coming dangerously close to a snippy tone.

  “I know he ‘understands’,” Melina replied, using air quotes for emphasis. “But what does that mean? Does that mean he thinks that it’s unfortunate that I’m a psychotic, but he can totally understand why or was it just a basic recognition that he understood your words?”

  Jean looked at Melina in horror. “Did you just use air quotes?”

  “Yes I did,” Melina said. “I thought that it made sense as a part of my explanation.”

  Jean shook her head. “It’s just… I thought we agreed that we both hated air quotes and that we were not going to use them in each others’ presence.”

  “Arrrrrgh, Jean, focus on the problem!” Melina cried. “Alex and I have physics together first period. What am I going to say to him?”

  Jean put her hand on Melina’s shoulder. “Look, Alex seems like a pretty sweet dude. When he used the word understand, he said it in a way that was as if he had undergone the experience himself. I don’t know that. It is just the feeling I got. His body language. The tone in his voice. He understood.”

  Melina smiled. “Thanks, Jean. That helps a lot. And thank you for being there yesterday to talk to him.”

  “No problem, lady,” Jean said, looking down in a fake blush. “Anything for my best friend.”

  Melina smiled. A memorable friend moment.

  “But seriously,” Jean added. “You are going to change shirts and ditch the mom haircut. Aren’t you?”

  “Goodbye, Jean,” Melina said as she walked away. “See you at lunch.”

  ………………………….

  Melina walked through the door of her first period physics class and paused to look around the room. The classroom was set up more like a laboratory than a classroom. Instead of individual desks, there were seven workstations, each with a sink and four barstool type chairs. Her teacher, Mr. Clary didn’t like assigned seats, so everyone just came in and sat at an open space at a workstation. Melina made sure she arrived to class a few minutes before the bell. She wanted to get to the class before Alex so she could let him decide whether he wanted to sit near her. The class was already half full, but Alex wasn’t there yet, so she spied an empty workstation and sat down.

  Melina spent a few moments fidgeting in her seat while she monitored the door. Then she remembered she had a few pages left in her book, so she took it out and began to read. After a few minutes, out of the corner of her eye, Melina saw the stool next to her move.

  “Is anyone sitting here?”

  Melina looked up to see Alex standing next to her, holding the stool.

  “No, please. Sit down,” Melina said, motioning toward the chair with an open hand.

  Alex sat down and reached into his backpack for his notebook. “Did you get an answer to the extra credit question on last night’s homework?”

  Melina sat there without saying a word. Hundreds of thoughts raced through her mind. The thought at the top of the list was that he wanted to sit by her. That meant that he did not think she was nuts. Next, his first topic of conversation was routine talk about homework. That meant that the incident yesterday was not worth talking about. It was behind them.

  Alex looked up from his notebook. “Melina? Did you get an answer to the extra credit question?”

  Melina finally stopped staring into space, and looked over at Alex. “Oh… yes. If you subtracted out the force due to friction of the tires on the pavement, the answer came out correct.”

  “Oh, man,” Alex sighed as he put his head down on the workstation. “I can’t believe that I did not think of that.”

  “Don’t worry,” Melina said, putt
ing her hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I don’t always get the extra credit problem. Mr. Clary tries to make that problem extra hard. Most of the time you have to go back to one of the previous chapters for an equation or piece of information to solve the problem.”

  “Okay. Everybody take out your textbooks and turn to page fifty-two.”

  It was Mr. Clary. He was speaking from behind his desk at the front of the room. Melina had not noticed him come in. She also just noticed that she still had her hand on Alex’s shoulder. She withdrew it quickly, although she did not know why.

  “Chapter three. Magnetism,” Mr. Clary said as he wrote the word magnetism on the board. “Today is the first day of a new unit. The unit on magnetism will last two weeks. As in the previous units, each of you will be paired with a classmate for the lab portion of the unit.”

  There was a noticeable rumbling in the classroom. In other classes, if there was a two-person project, then the teacher let the students work out with whom they were paired. Mr. Clary insisted on a random assignment of the students that were to work together. He said that it forced the students to be exposed to work habits that they may not have seen before. He was right, but Melina still thought of it as a school version of Mystery Date. Her last lab partner was one of the legendary ‘slacker boys’. They were so called because they spent more time playing with their portable game players than helping with the assignment.

  Mr. Clary sat back down at his desk and consulted his list of students. “All right. When I call your name, I want you to move to the workstation where your partner is located. I’ll leave it to you which of the two of you have to move.”

  More rumbling. The tension was building.

  “Martinez and Bass.”

  Maria Martinez gave Derek Bass a look that said she was not going anywhere. Derek moved to her workstation.