The Fog of Dreams

by Justin Bell

  ********

  With no sign of Strickland back at his home throughout his entire first day back in New Hampshire, Grace elected to pull Day Watch back in and reallocate them. They both stood in Grace's office that early morning, waiting for their next assignment.

  "Halifax and Mathis, you guys have been through it already? I'm sure you're wondering why you were pulled off watch duty," Grace said quietly as he stood with his back to the two men, looking out the window as he usually did.

  Halifax spoke first. "Seems like a waste of resources, sir. We've turned his house upside down, did some evaluation on what he took, and have come to the conclusion that he likely will not return."

  "That is a good analysis, and one I agree with, Agent," Grace said, turning his head back and glancing at the two men subtly. "So you are both officially off the watch team. I want you to start picking apart local hotels and motels. We need to filter through all of Strickland's known aliases."

  "Understood, sir," replied Mathis. "As an independent contractor, I don't think we know all of his aliases, sir, but we have a laundry list of ones to check."

  "Do it."

  Halifax cleared his throat. "With all respect, sir? are we going to see Burndock back on our team? This might be a tall order for just two of us."

  "No disrespect taken, Agent," Grace answered, turning completely around and walking towards the two men. Burndock is off the grid, at least for a little bit longer. Put your head down and push forward, we'll get you some backup if you need it."

  "Appreciated, sir," replied Halifax and nodded. "We've got this."

  The two men exited Grace's office, just as Irizarry had done the day before, and Agent Grace smiled.

  Following his two agents, Grace exited his own office, making sure the door latched behind him. Taking a left down the hallway, he walked past the elevator and went straight for the stairwell. Slipping out the front door of the building, he walked straight to his company car just behind the large brick structure. He directed the vehicle onto Main Street and drove towards the Vermont border.

  Less than ten minutes later, he swung into the dirt parking lot next to the Norwood town hall. A white pickup truck marked with a small local glass replacement company sat there as well. Wasting no time, Grace walked into the front door and down the short flight of stairs where the hallway attack took place. Two men stood in the hallway with a tarp over the blank hole where the window used to be, running a measuring tape. Walking past the tarp, Grace took a right into the town clerk's office, pulling his wallet from the pocket inside his jacket.

  "Good morning," he said calmly, flashing a salesman's smile.

  "Yes?" the person asked behind the counter, obviously suspicious of something.

  Agent Grace flipped open his wallet and showed it to the larger-sized woman who stood behind the counter. "Richard Grace, Internal Revenue Service. Do you have a moment?"

  The suspicious woman regarded the wallet with an intense glare. "What can I do for you, Mr. Grace?"

  "We are performing a routine audit and need to pull some papers for one of the town residents. I have a warrant here," he continued and pulled out a bundle of folded paperwork.

  The clerk looked somewhat out of sorts as she looked at the papers. "Just a moment, I need to get my boss."

  Grace nodded understandingly and let his eyes walk over the room as the woman disappeared into the back. Two minutes later, a slightly smaller woman accompanied the larger woman, who looked even more suspicious than her employee had. "Can I ask what this is concerning, Mr. Grace?" she asked.

  Grace smiled again. "As I told the other young lady, we are performing a routine audit. We have reason to believe one of your residents is concealing items of a financial nature from the government. It's all right there in the warrant."

  "What do you need from us, Mr. Grace?" the manager asked.

  "Just access to the Records Room, please. Or you could just pull the records in question for me."

  With a nod, the manager lifted the gate within the counter and walked Agent Grace out of the room, down the hall, and to the Records Room. She eased the door open for him and entered with him. "Whatever you need, we can help with."

  Agent Grace looked at the rows and rows of files in front of him.

  "Can you point me to William Strickland's records please?" he asked.

  The manager leaned over the file folders and ran her fingers down across the labels at the top, trying to discern exactly where to find what she was looking for. She pulled out a pair of folders, but stopped and looked nervous for a minute.

  "Is there a problem?" Agent Grace asked.

  "Well? I'm not sure," the manager stammered.

  "Ma'am?"

  The woman turned around, looking downright panicked. "There seems to be some missing records."

  "Could there be a filing error?"

  "I don't see how, sir. We are quite meticulous about this."

  "Can I get a full itinerary of what records might be missing?"

  "Of course. Please just give me a few moments. I need to check our database and print out the report."

  They both left the Records Room and walked back down to the town office. Agent Grace waited patiently in the open area by the counter while the manager hacked away at a keyboard behind it, and soon enough, the nearby laser printer began spitting out paper.

  Within moments, the manager reached over the counter with a few pieces of paper, which Grace clutched gently.

  "Thank you, ma'am," he said kindly, nodding his head. "This will be a big help."

  Grace exited the town hall and walked the way he came, shortly making it back to his car. Sliding into the driver's seat, the NSA Agent leafed casually through the files, focusing mainly on the report of missing documents, and slowly Grace started to draw the picture. His finger ran down the list of missing documents on the report and they stood out like a sore thumb. Building permits, the land deed, and other documents pertaining to his home and the land surrounding it. If he had looked through these documents, he knew contractors, construction companies, and architects. All of the names were local talent, but Grace knew if Strickland investigated Pollard Construction, he just might stumble onto something. Agent Grace tossed the stack of papers on the passenger seat and scooped his phone from his pocket. As he started the engine of his car, he thumbed a phone number he hadn't dialed in twenty-four hours. Seconds later, Agent Burndock picked up on the other end.

  "Agent Grace?"

  "Yes, it's me. I think we're ready for you."

  "What do you need?"

  "Meet me at my office in fifteen minutes."

  "Yes, sir."

  The line went dead and Grace started his short drive back to the three-story building that looked over his Ivy League kingdom.

  As Agent Grace suspected, Burndock's car sat and waited for him when he pulled into the parking lot. Grace stepped from his car and headed towards the front door, and Burndock repeated the motion himself, joining the more senior agent as he entered the office building.

  "Thanks for coming," said Grace quietly as they both entered. Burndock simply nodded. They walked to the elevator and rode up to the third floor in silence, and neither man spoke again until they both entered Grace's office and slid shut the soundproof door.

  "What can I do for you, Agent Grace?" Burndock asked, eagerness evident in his tone of voice.

  "We've been able to track down what Strickland appropriated from the town hall. We suspect he removed documents pertaining to his home and property in Norwood." Grace leaned slightly back against the desk, crossing his arms. He left those words hanging in the air, waiting to see what Burndock might do with them.

  Burndock walked closer to Agent Grace, obviously thinking. He knew he was being given a pop quiz, and he wanted to get this answer right. His career might depend on it.

  "Building permits?" he asked as he walked towards the window behind the desk, his fingers rubbing some stubble on his chin.

  "Ye
s."

  Burndock stopped in front of the window and turned to face Agent Grace, lowering his hand slightly and gesturing while he spoke. "The only thing he knows right now is his home. He doesn't know his family; he doesn't know his friends. He doesn't even know his enemies."

  "Okay."

  "So he's looking to dig up as much information as he possibly can about the house that he lives in and what might be on his property."

  "Sounds about right. What do you think he plans to do with that information?"

  Burndock turned towards the window again, focusing his eyes on the vacant lot next to the three-story building, and the sign attached to the chain-link fence.

  "Pollard Construction."

  Agent Grace smiled slyly. "Beg your pardon?"

  Burndock turned, a confident look in his eyes. "If he's got the building permits, he knows the house is new construction and he knows who built it. Pollard Construction. He probably thinks they're an NSA front." Agent Burndock took a few steps forward. "Which of course, they aren't, but they are the contractor of choice for this area."

  "Go on." Grace was still smirking. He had decided that a little off time had done Burndock some good.

  "No doubt he's going to navigate the local area and find some other Pollard Construction sites, and probably do a little investigation. He doesn't have any resources, so he'll be doing all of this himself, and he'll be looking through the foreman's trailer at each site."

  "What will he find?"

  "Well, he won't find anything. They're not a front; they're just a construction company that we happen to use. But it's a good draw to set a trap."

  "A trap? Why would we want to set a trap?" Grace's smile dipped a little bit and he gave Burndock an inquisitive look.

  "Trap is probably a bad word, sir. It's a good draw to set up a test. We're looking to test his capabilities, right? Luring him into a controlled environment and offering up some obstacles would be a good way to do that, I think. Plus, he's out in the wild right now, and we need to wrap him back up."

  "Well said, Agent Burndock. Very well said. I think you touched on all the right points. Where do we do this?"

  Now it was Agent Burndock's time to smile. "Where else? Right in our own backyard." He nodded sideways out the window towards the vacant lot with the construction sign proudly displayed.

  Agent Grace nodded and smiled again. "Welcome back, Nate. You're going to be in charge of surveillance and coordination of this piece of the field test. I want this entire area watched. Strickland's research is going to lead him right here. He won't be able to resist it. I want us watching for him when he shows up, and I want the trap set and ready for him. Requisition whatever men you need, and be sure to leverage Irizarry's crew too. This is a milestone in this project and we need to make sure it goes off without a hitch."

  "Understood. Keeping in mind what Strickland is capable of? how should I choose who serves on the trap team? We both know what this man can do when he's cornered."

  "Choose wisely and mix it up. For it to be an effective test, we need some well-conditioned veterans. We need some field agents, but I think Irizarry and his guys can fill out most of the crew. They're begging for action anyway."

  Burndock walked towards Grace, nodding approval. "Consider it done, boss."

  "Nice work, Burndock. Let's make this happen."

  Burndock vacated the office, rode down the elevator, and walked out into the cold afternoon air; his mind raced with the thoughts of this plan and with what he was being trusted. He couldn't wait to execute it and prove his worth to the NSA again.