The Fog of Dreams

by Justin Bell

  ********

  Washington, DC.

  "So what does he spend his time doing?" asked Davies as Grace went through a few more minutes of recap video. "He just sulks around the house feeling sorry for himself?"

  "Not at all," Grace replied. "We've tried to provide just enough information. Just enough data. Keep him feeling like he's getting answers, while still keeping him isolated and locked inside that house. It's a balancing act."

  Davies leaned back in his chair, looking at the screen.

  "So what you're telling me is the four million dollars we've already fronted for Operation: Harvest has given us a sullen bald dude who roams around his house and uses Google?"

  McKie watched Agent Grace very carefully. He'd worked with Grace for a long time and trusted him implicitly, but knew he also had a temper. Davies was pushing all the right buttons, and McKie was a little bit concerned that Grace just might go off on him.

  He didn't.

  "Mr. Davies, we just haven't gotten to the good stuff yet. Maybe I should skip ahead some?"

  "By all means, wow me." Davies extended his hands, palms up.

  Grace nodded and started fast forwarding some.