by G. K. Parks
As we sipped coffee, he assessed my clothing – white button-up blouse, black slacks, and a suit jacket. Nothing out of the ordinary for corporate work.
He cleared his throat. “Next month, I have an event to attend. It’s for charity, and I need a plus one.”
“I don’t think I can make it.”
“I haven’t even told you what day or time yet. How do you know you can’t make it?”
“Does it involve a fancy dress and dancing?”
“It’s black tie, and I’m sure they’ll have a dance floor.” He smirked, enjoying torturing me with matters I found irritating.
“Sorry, but I definitely can’t make it now.” Dressing up and being gawked at like arm candy wasn’t on my to-do list.
“We’ve been dating for over a year, and you want me to go to a party alone?” He tended to get into trouble at social events. Once, he was arrested on suspicion of murder, and another time, his ex-fiancée assaulted him, using her lips against his mouth. “Aren’t there additional perks that come with being in a committed relationship?” His green eyes danced. “Aside from the obvious which I believe you benefitted from multiple times last night.”
Blushing, I glared at him. “Fine. I’ll try to swing it,” I conceded. Catching a glimpse of the time, I swallowed the rest of the coffee in one gulp. “E-mail me the details because I’m gonna be late if I stay here for another minute.”
“Good luck, sweetheart.”
“Hey,” I pulled him close, “we’ll figure something out. Maybe Bruiser has a dress hanging in the back of his closet that he’s been dying to wear someplace fancy.”
Martin ignored the quip, and I went down the stairs and to my car. Pulling onto the main road, I took a deep breath. The two day hiatus was over. Now the real fun could begin.
Giddy with nervous energy, my fingers tapped a rhythm against the steering wheel as I took the familiar route to the federal building and parked in the garage. Taking the elevator to the OIO level, I poked my head into Mark’s open office door.
“You look rested,” he said, tearing his eyes away from a stack of case files. “I barely recognize you without the dark puffy circles underneath your eyes.”
“Thanks a lot. Am I reporting to you or Director Kendall?”
“Go see Kendall first. Then I’ll meet you in the conference room once I get this sorted out.” He smiled. “It looks like I must have drawn the short straw, seeing as how you’ll be reporting to me again, Agent Parker.”
“Just like old times.” I swallowed, my eyes involuntarily darting to my former partner’s desk. Even though I finally came to grips with his death and stopped blaming myself, it didn’t make it hurt any less.
Mark saw the sobered look on my face and gave a curt nod. “Go on. We don’t have all day.”
And just like that, I went down the hallway and knocked on Kendall’s door. He looked up and motioned me inside. My personnel file was on his desk, my reinstatement papers were signed and dated, and the case file was awaiting my perusal. He finished going over a few final points concerning my job, the updated mandatory requirement for periodic, unannounced drug testing since I failed one the last time I tried to be reinstated, and a few other hoops that needed jumping through. Then he passed me off to Special Agent in Charge Steve Cooper, whom I had worked with in the past.
“Parker,” Cooper greeted, extending his hand, “I thought you swore you were done.”
“I was, but obviously, the government had other plans for my retirement.” I thought back to the mafia don who threatened my life and the lives of my friends if I didn’t back off. “Whatever I’m embarking on now better not involve Vito.”
“It doesn’t. Kendall has you as far removed from the organized crime unit as possible.”
“So what am I doing? Please tell me I’m not playing the role of hooker with a heart of gold.”
He laughed politely. “I forgot what it was like to work with you.” He led the way to a conference room and opened the door. “This was originally my op, but our assets were compromised, so the FBI turned it over to its more specialized branch, the OIO. Originally, we thought the DEA might want to take a crack at it, but this isn’t one of their typical cartels.”
“Drugs?” I already didn’t like it.
“Among other things. This is mainly about smuggling, but we have yet to determine the source.”
“International?”
“Obviously.” But before he could say anything else, Mark stepped into the room. “Jablonsky will be your handler. You’re running point from the inside, and anything you need will be coordinated directly through him. We’ve already established your new identity, but you should expect a slow insertion. We have to be careful not to raise suspicion.”
“I’ll take it from here,” Mark said, shooing Cooper away. When the door closed, he rubbed his face and leaned back in the chair. “Here’s your cover. Read through it first and then we’ll get down to the basics.”
I flipped open the manila folder, reading the first few lines. This seemed to be rather run-of-the-mill. It wasn’t much different from the assignments I handled in the past. I continued reading, flipping page after page.
Alexia Nicholson had a fairly extensive rap sheet. She was a junkie who happened to get mixed up with the wrong crowd. The people she had been running with were dealers. When the group disbanded after a particularly gruesome bust, she was convicted of possession with the intent to distribute and was charged with felony murder. But the judge showed leniency, hoping to reform rather than incarcerate. Apparently my cover identity had been expected to turn her life around and her sentence was lessened with time served, mandatory rehab, and parole. But from what I gathered, there wasn’t much chance she kicked her heroin habit.
“We have a few former tattoo artists who will airbrush you with semi-permanent makeup. It’ll be less of a hassle than having to create realistic looking track marks every time you show up for a meet,” Mark said when I questioningly held up my cover’s rap sheet. “Also, we’ve worked out plausible reasons why you are suddenly taking up residence in that neighborhood. New job and new digs.”
I continued reading. Alexia was recently hired as an exotic dancer. The information on my new career was mostly blank, meaning it had yet to be established. “Looks like my rehab isn’t going to stick.”
“Once a junkie, always a junkie,” Mark said, sounding more cynical and jaded than ever. “But on the bright side, it’ll explain your transient nature and unstable lifestyle. We’ve established an apartment, but until things get underway, you don’t have to stay there permanently.”
“Let me guess, this is the real reason for the mandatory random drug testing.” I shook my head, sighing at the irony. “You do realize after being drugged once and dealing with the horribleness that accompanied it, I have no desire whatsoever to become an addict or use recreationally.”
“No kidding. Frankly, that’s probably why Kendall picked you for this one. You’re the most straight-laced agent we have when it comes to substance abuse, and it shows exactly how much faith and trust he has in you.”
“Plus, if the hacker actually discovered my file, and my cover has been compromised before we even get started, at least it adds a real dynamic if I have to talk myself out of a worst case situation.”
“There won’t be any worst case situations.” His eyes bore into mine. “I won’t allow it.”
Too bad the feeling of impending doom settled like a bowling ball on my chest. This was a mistake. “You don’t know that.” I continued reading, attempting to ignore the look I was getting. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I dropped the file on the desk. “Shit happens, especially when I’m here.”
“Alex, I understand if you’re having cold feet, but if your head isn’t in the game, back the fuck out before it’s too late.”
“No,” I said resolutely, “I want to be here. I want this. I just don’t know how to do it.”
“It’s like riding a bicycle. It
’ll come back.” He nodded reassuringly. “You never stopped investigating. This is the same thing, just from the inside. We’ll review the protocols, catch you up on procedure, dead drops, code words, everything you’ll need to know. You’ll be fine.”
“What about back-up?”
“For the first couple of days, agents will maintain eyes on you and monitor the situation from a distance, so in the event there’s trouble, they’ll be nearby. If everything goes as planned, they’ll be gone within the week, and it’ll just be you.”
“Thank god.” I offered a bittersweet smile, surprising him with that sentiment. “At least no one else will get killed because of me.” His eyes darkened, prepared to berate me or possibly confiscate my newly acquired credentials. “What? It’s true.”
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Full-length Novels in the Alexis Parker Series:
Likely Suspects
The Warhol Incident
Mimicry of Banshees
Suspicion of Murder
Racing Through Darkness
Camels and Corpses
Lack of Jurisdiction
Dying for a Fix
Intended Target
Muffled Echoes
Crisis of Conscience
Misplaced Trust
Whitewashed Lies
On Tilt
Prequel Alexis Parker Novellas:
Outcomes and Perspective: The Complete Prequel Series
Assignment Zero (Prequel series, #1)
Agent Prerogative (Prequel series, #2)
The Final Chapter (Prequel series, #3)
Julian Mercer Novels
Condemned
Betrayal
Subversion
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
G.K. Parks is the author of the Alexis Parker series. The first novel, Likely Suspects, tells the story of Alexis’ first foray into the private sector.
G.K. Parks received a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science and History. After spending some time in law school, G.K. changed paths and earned a Master of Arts in Criminology/Criminal Justice. Now all that education is being put to use creating a fictional world based upon years of study and research.
You can find additional information on G.K. Parks and the Alexis Parker series by visiting our website at
www.alexisparkerseries.com