by Justin Bell
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Agent Grace leaned back in his office chair, rocking slowly back and forth, as he laced his fingers behind his head and regarded Agent Burndock closely. This was a rare daylight meeting between the two men, with Day Watch running with two operatives today to enable the team lead to debrief the operational commander.
"His behavior wasn't erratic?" Grace asked, looking at Burndock curiously. The NSA agent sat in a chair on the other side of Grace's desk, his legs crossed, and his hands resting in his lap. Next to him, in another chair, was Dr. Worthy, who also wanted to hear all of the nitty-gritty details about his meetup with William Strickland.
"Not that I could tell, sir. He was quite determined to go into the cabin, but apparently didn't find what he was looking for. Or if he did, he didn't feel the need to keep digging." Burndock had already provided a written report to both men, which Grace had unfolded in front of him, though he wasn't bothering to read.
"I read your report, Agent. I'm looking for something more personal here. You got where you are today mostly due to your ability to read people. You must have read him. What did you see?"
Burndock lowered his head slightly, trying to figure out how he was going to arrange the next words he spoke. "Honestly? I felt bad for him. He kicked all of our asses without even trying. However, at the end of the day, he was just looking for some answers about his family. When neither the cabin nor I could provide those answers, the fight just vacated him. He was empty."
"So this deep and personal connection with his family? that impacted his desire to fight?" Dr. Worthy asked, and Burndock looked sideways over to him.
"You don't have any kids, do you, Doc?"
Worthy smirked. "No, Agent, I do not."
"From what I could tell, just from his mannerisms, is that fundamentally the most important thing to him is finding his family. Everything else is secondary. Any risks he takes, or any limits he sets upon himself exist only as ancillary devices he needs to use to find out what happened to his wife and daughters." Burndock straightened up a bit and cleared his throat, preparing to deliver his analysis that had been brewing in his head for about thirty-six hours. "On the surface he seems to be focused on his training, conditioning, and recalling his past memories. Buried deep inside is this all-encompassing desire to reunite with his loved ones. Every single time he hits that heavy bag, he's preparing his body to get his family back. Every drop of sweat is a piece of himself he's willing to sacrifice to find his kids."
Agent Grace looked at him a bit dubiously. "You got all of that from a few minutes conversation in the woods? In between exchanging gunfire, no less?"
"I minored in psychology, Agent Grace. That was what drew me to the NSA."
Grace chuckled. "A friggin sniper with a degree in psychology. You can't make this shit up."
Burndock couldn't help but smile at that himself. He did have a good point. A guy who wanted to shrink someone's head just before he blew it off. Definitely, a unique skillset.
"So, Agent Burndock," began Dr. Worthy, "what are your recommendations from here? Continued monitoring? Should we perform our own search for his family, and try to facilitate a meetup?"
"That's not going to happen," said Agent Grace abruptly. "We need Strickland isolated and controllable. I don't want innocents getting mixed up in this again."
"Okay, I think I'm clear on this, Agent Grace," said Burndock. "We're continuing our monitoring, day and night, yes?"
"Absolutely. We haven't yet decided on our next field test. There needs to be a specific location and a specific set of circumstances we can use to judge his current status and attempt to extrapolate the success of what we've done thus far."
"I dunno, man. I saw him firsthand out at that cabin. That looked pretty fucking successful."
Agent Grace and Dr. Worthy both shared a sly smile. "I appreciate that, Burndock. There are other elements at play, however, that you are not yet privy. Many rocks still to uncover."
"Understood."
"So yes, continue surveillance, while the good doctor and I decide on next steps. We will let you know as soon as we know. And while we're at it, I'm going to work to get you a higher level of clearance as well. You've redeemed yourself since that little issue in downtown Norwood, and I think you're ready to take a larger role here."
Agent Burndock smiled broadly. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate your support and confidence."
Agent Grace stood and extended his hand. Burndock matched the two motions, and then shook his hand over the desk.
"You are dismissed, Agent Burndock," said Richard Grace with a slight nod.
"Thank you."
Agent Burndock slipped out of the office through the double doors, soon gone from view. Dr. Worthy turned towards Grace.
"What are you thinking, Richard?" he asked pensively.
"I'm thinking that we're on the right track? but I'm also thinking that this emotional connection could be dangerous."
"I agree."
"We need men who are singly devoted to their country and their cause. Emotional baggage and lingering thoughts of family, friends, and compatriots will only serve to cloud judgment and impede progress."
"Spoken like a man with no close family, Agent," Worthy said with his own sly smile.
Agent Grace actually paused to think. Maybe they were approaching this wrong? maybe the incentive for reuniting with his family could provide more drive and determination instead of distraction. Could that be possible? It would be something for him to chew on, for sure.
Dr. Worthy dismissed himself and exited the same way Burndock had, leaving Agent Grace alone with his thoughts.
Burndock was in his car on the way back to the Strickland house when his phone buzzed.
"This is Burndock."
"He's moving, sir."
Burndock didn't panic or even grow concerned. His short time spent with Strickland had lent him some surprising insight. He could never say this to Agent Grace, but at least in his own mind, he felt a bit more at ease about what to expect from the man.
"All right, where's he headed?"
"The GPS on his car is authenticating. He was headed towards downtown."
"Roger. I'm done with my meeting and heading that way myself. I'll steer towards downtown. Keep watching the GPS, and let me know what changes."
It only took a moment before his phone chirped again.
"We've got him, Burns. He's coming into downtown Norwood now, about to continue out of town. Looks like he's probably headed your way."
"Got it," Burndock replied abruptly, eyeing a right turn just before the bridge crossing the river. He spun the wheel right and pulled into this turn, then spun around, pointing the front of the car back out towards Main Street. Glancing to his right, he saw the gray Toyota Matrix, freshly repaired since the mechanical 'difficulties' several weeks ago, coming slowly down the hill from downtown Norwood. The Matrix went across the bridge then headed back up the hill towards Main Street. Burndock eased his car out of the side street and onto the uphill trek, pulling out right behind him.
"This is Burndock. I've got the handoff."
"Affirmative, boss. What do you need?"
"Not a thing right now. I'll let you know if I do."
The black car drove slowly behind the Matrix as it turned onto Main Street and weaved through cars and foot traffic, then took a second left and pulled into a parking spot outside a two-story brick building off a side road. Not wanting to draw attention, Burndock kept driving, making note of the building where he stopped. As he pulled out into the next street, Burndock saw Strickland walking into the doorway of the building ahead.
"He's hitting the bank, Halifax," Burndock reported, navigating his vehicle down the winding road as it led from the bustling main street past the neighborhood high school. "I'm handing him back off to you. I'm going to grab lunch then meet you back there. I'm staying within three klicks, so if he tries anything, buzz me, I can be on him in a second."
"Roger. Be
in touch."
Burndock didn't think he would. He suspected Strickland would make his bank stop, and maybe grab a bite to eat or a coffee, but then head back home. He still had work to do and a family to find.
Approximately twenty minutes later, William Strickland emerged from the door to the bank building, his eyes carefully scanning the road in front of him. His business with the bank had been quick and easy, but now came the real reason why he had ventured into town today. It had been labeled within the Operation: Harvest documentation as the local NSA Regional Watch Station, and the address had been handed to Strickland on a silver platter. He stood in the doorway to the bank staring across the street at the three-story brick structure. On the opposite side of the building from where the parking garage sat, there was another building, not quite as tall as the main one, but with a small alley between the two. Squinting his eyes, he tried to judge the distance and see if perhaps a rooftop extraction might work, but he wasn't certain it would. While he had become convinced that he was part of these Operation: Harvest protocols, he didn't really want to test his limits jumping from roof to roof when a misjudgment might cost him his life. Even more importantly, it might cost him the chance to free his family from whatever punishment they were suffering.
And he knew they were. Somehow, that short conversation with Agent Burndock had told him all he needed to know. The minute he'd mentioned his family, there had been a quick and almost shameful sideways glance. A quick response that said he didn't know anything, but a look in his eyes that betrayed everything. Strickland now suspected that wherever his family was, these thugs from the NSA knew the location, and it was up to him to get it out of them, no matter the cost. That conversation fueled everything he had done since.
