by Justin Bell
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Well, that was about the worst night I ever had.
Nate Burndock stumbled into his hotel room, his head still screaming because of the previous several hours of his work life. Irizarry's crew had jumped the gun, but the guy in charge would take the blame as always, and the guy in charge tonight was him. He had played by the book, but Strickland burned the book into ash and spit on its smoldering husk. Just the thought of that guy, waltzing around scot-free after doing what he'd done last night inflamed Burndock's sense of law and order. Yeah, he was an NSA "special project," but how much leeway could one guy have? Surprisingly, the NSA had managed to successfully cover the whole incident up. As far as the town of Norwood was aware this morning, an independent film production was in town, firing off blank ammunition and simulating a car crash with stuntmen. The production company apologized for disturbing the peace, and for the window in the town hall, but they supplied a written contract from the state and the town approving the filming.
The hard stuff was now over for the NSA-proper, and all Burndock had to do was wait for Agent Grace to arrive back in town. That was now slated to happen very shortly, and the lower level NSA agent wasn't quite mentally prepared for it. Grace was a good boss, but he was notorious for his political positioning, and if he saw Burndock as a threat, this event could end his career. Then again, maybe Grace would recognize the disaster for what it had been and simply want to take control again with all of the pieces in place. Burndock wasn't sure, but he suspected this would end badly for him. Hell, the last two guys who screwed up on this op ended up in the digestive system of an angry bear, something that still seemed like too much of a coincidence.
As he pulled his shirt over his head, he glanced at the digital clock on the end table and his heart sank with what it told him. It was nearly 11:30 a.m. and from his understanding, Agent Grace would be landing in a puddle jumper from Logan at about one o'clock. He had ninety minutes of peace and quiet before his world exploded.
