Sequence 77

by Darin Preston

  Glaring at the intercom in such a way, it seemed that Robert was trying to start it on fire with malevolent thoughts alone. If the office were a few degrees warmer, it just might have worked too. Still pressing the intercom button, the tip of his index finger went white as blood rushed away due to the unrelenting pressure. The hard plastic of the phone creaked and threatened to crack under the strain. Biting his lower lip, he did his best to maintain composure. “Exactly when were you planning to tell me all of this, Dolores?” he asked, his voice menacingly calm.

  The intercom hummed quietly for a few moments. “I was hoping to wait until I was rushing past your office to go home for the night, but I guess that plan is ruined,” said Dolores with light sarcasm. A complete lack of response from her typically animated boss made her rethink attempting humor any time soon. “Do you want me to call Seth and Leo on the line?” she asked quickly, trying to sound more helpful.

  Robert envisioned himself walking down the hall, opening the door to his cheeky secretary’s office, wheeling her out into the hall on her cushioned chair, and commandeering her air conditioner. However, the thought of her inevitable reprisal startled him out of the fantasy. “Don’t bother calling those two boneheads,” he grumbled, an evil grin appearing on his lips. “I’m going to send them a little company to help move things along. Have the new kid come to my office.”

  Suddenly going out of her way to be extra nice, Delores responded immediately and without additional comment. “You’ve got it, Bob.”

  A slight buzzing sound persisted as Robert released the speak button on his phone. It was apparent that he would now be able to add his intercom to the laundry list of things needing to be fixed or replaced. The loud circulation fans in the room above cycled off, for the time being, allowing him to hear the phone ring in Special Agent Toth’s office down the hall. After a few moments, he saw the blond young man suddenly standing in his doorway as if he had simply materialized from thin air.

  “Ah, Joshua, welcome to the sauna,” said Robert dryly. He motioned to the only chair without paperwork piled high upon it. “Have a seat.”

  Without hesitation, Special Agent Toth obediently stepped through the door and sat down. Dressed smartly in an expensive looking navy blue suit coat with matching tie and pressed slacks, he appeared ready for a photo shoot in Gentlemen’s Quarterly more so than a visit to his boss’s stuffy office. Robert scowled slightly, jealously noticing that the steely-eyed agent did not appear to even notice the heat radiating throughout the room. “You must have left your shoes under your desk, I didn’t even hear you walk down,” he said in an attempt to kick-start the conversation.

  As if studying a bug he’d caught for his collection, Joshua looked at him inquisitively. “Not at all, sir. Stealth is a skill lost on most around here,” he replied seriously with a slight nod of his head. “Now, how may I be of service?” he asked, ending further attempts at small talk.

  Not completely sure what to make of his newest, and most enigmatic agent, Robert leaned back in his chair, causing a loud screech. “I’m going to need you to take a trip to Madison in the morning. Agents Alexander and Alejo are working a case and I feel they could use more manpower to get things done…in a timely fashion.” Though tempting, he thought better of bad-mouthing Seth and Leo in front of an impressionable young agent.

  Like a dog hearing a whistle inaudible to humans, Joshua tilted his head to one side. “Have our fine agents run into unforeseen difficulty, sir?” he inquired, sensing his superior’s restraint.

  Exhaling deeply, a loud rumble emanated from Robert’s chest. “I don’t know how unforeseen it is.” Shaking his head, he pointed to his phone, now buzzing more noticeably. “Communication has been a bit spotty, which is the primary reason I’d like you on the case.”

  “Me specifically, sir?” asked Joshua, his head tilting in the other direction this time.

  “Your supervisor at Quantico said you followed protocol to the letter and I could use someone like that right now,” explained Robert, smiling at the thought of an agent who would actually follow directions without constant reminders. “Besides, I’m sure you’ve been itching to get out into the field and now is as good a time as any.”

  “Do you have a dossier of the case for me, sir?” Sounding more eager than he had intended, Joshua couldn’t deny that getting out of Milwaukee was exactly what he’d been longing to do for the entire month he’d been there. “I could take a look at it and leave this evening if you wish.”

  Leaning forward, Robert smiled despite the piercing metallic squeak made by his chair. “Whoa there buckaroo, there’s no need to leave tonight. I’ll have Dolores work a case file up for you, but I think you’ll be best served by talking with Seth and Leo when you get over there.” Though he did find the young agent’s initiative refreshing, it was also somehow disconcerting. He expected that introducing Agent Toth into the mix would not only improve the frequency of information coming from Madison but also adequately annoy two agents that could use a reminder of their place in the order of things. “Just follow their lead, but don’t be afraid to remind them of protocol now and again. Thank you, Agent Toth. Good luck tomorrow.” Robert dismissed his recruit with a pleased grin.

  “I don’t believe in luck, sir. I will do as you ask,” replied Joshua, standing up to leave.

  Impressed with the agent’s discipline, Robert watched as the still perspiration-free man took one smooth step backward into the doorway.

  Joshua noticed Agent Simpson still looking at him. “Sir, is there something more?”

  Although he felt a bit sheepish, Robert Bob proceeded anyway. “So I noticed that you didn’t use your air conditioner yesterday. I was just wondering if…?” he asked with his eyebrows raised intently as the question trailed off.

  “Of course. It’s all yours, sir.” Satisfied that he had made the desired impression on his superior, Joshua pivoted sharply and returned to his office to prepare for his first field assignment. After being held back for weeks, an opportunity to demonstrate his true worth was finally at hand.

  Despite the loud fans in the room above roaring back to life like the engines of a B-52 bomber, Robert smiled. For the first time in a long while, he felt as if the universe had taken a break from gleaning pleasure from his slow, incessant torture. Sitting down in his chair, he was surprised that the familiar squeaking noise had stopped and he was able to move around without telegraphing his movements to anyone within earshot. “Well, I’ll be jiggered!” he shouted as he gleefully shifted around in his seat, moving his weight from side to side and back and forth like a hula dancer on wheels. With a resounding crack, the thin bolt securing the rolling pedestal to the bottom of the chair sheared clean off, sending the wheels shooting across the floor in the opposite direction of his last lean. Still sitting in what was left of his chair, he found himself peering just over the top of his desk. He frowned miserably at the unmistakable reminder that the universe was still keeping a close eye on him.

  Chapter 18

  No Rest for the Wicked

  CHARLES MILLBURG’S EYES opened slowly as he awoke from what was little more than few hours of uneasy sleep. As usual, his dreams were filled with unsettling images of loved ones forever out of reach. Taking several seconds for his aging eyes to adjust to the diffuse light in the windowless storage room, he reached up and slowly rubbed his face with both hands. Bringing his right arm to his side, he pressed down on the cot firmly and rolled his shoulders to the left, swinging his legs out slowly. Groaning as he came to a sitting position, he placed his feet flat on the floor. The cobwebs in his head were taking their sweet time clearing away, making him wish that he could have slept a while longer. “No more rest for you, Charles, there’s much to accomplish this evening,” he mumbled to himself while he rubbed the stiffness from his neck with both hands.

  Reaching toward the top of the small fridge humming quietly next to the cot, he moved his hand carefully forward until his fingers found the thin metallic
toggle on the reading lamp that rested on top. With a gratifying snap, the filament came to life like a small sun going nova against the empty vastness of space. He reached next to the lamp and picked up a small pair of reading glasses glinting softly in the light. Holding the flimsy frames in one hand, he used the other hand to compulsively clean them with the cloth of his shirt. He brought the old-fashioned, wire-rimmed spectacles to his face and opened the hinges, skillfully securing them in place behind his ears and allowing them to come comfortably to rest midway down the bridge of his nose. As he began to stand, Charles could feel and hear his body protest with the distinct popping and snapping sounds of used-up cartilage around old joints. It had become nearly impossible to keep from flinching each time his back and knees were called upon to bear the weight of his meager frame. “Indeed Charles, you have a lot to do. And less and less time to do it, I think,” he spoke to himself once again.

  Heavy footfalls echoed in an approach from the distance, bringing his attention to the room’s steel door and only exit. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Charles swept his hand across the base of the reading lamp, turning it off with a click as he willed his aching legs to move quickly, albeit shakily, toward a darkened corner of the room. He picked up a piece of discarded steel pipe from a nearby shelf and clenched the cold metal tightly, his eyes widened in fear. Holding his breath, he heard the footsteps stop abruptly in front of the door. After a short pause, a light knock was heard, followed by three more in quick succession. Then the quiet sound of a familiar, friendly voice. “Sir? Are you awake?”

  Recognizing the voice of his friend, Charles let out a long breath and loosened his grasp on his improvised metal club. He felt the tingly sensation of blood rushing back into his fingers as he set the blunt instrument back on the shelf and shuffled toward the door. Although he knew Walter was the only other person to venture this far into storage besides himself, his profound sense of relief that the interloper was his ally only served to emphasize his current state of elevated anxiety. Feeling increasingly vulnerable wasn’t something he had anticipated as his longtime ambition came closer to being fulfilled.

  “Come in before someone sees you, my boy.” Anxiety still drove him despite knowing the likelihood of discovery was remote. The resonant clank of the lock opening gave way to the sound of squeaky hinges parting, allowing dim light to reveal the imposing figure of his young friend. “Is the lab prepared?” asked Charles, grasping Walter’s forearm and ushering him inside. “We have much work to do this evening.”

  With exaggerated, but genuine pride, Walter raised his chin into the air. “Yes, sir! I set it all up, just like you showed me how.”

  Charles smiled at the young man as he recalled a time when taking pride in his work was all that concerned him too. “Well done, my friend. I know that I can always count on you,” he praised, patting Walter on the shoulder softly. Turning away, he hobbled back toward his cot and hunched over slightly due to the ache in his joints from their sudden increase in activity. With a click, he turned the small lamp back on and shifted the light toward his friend. The young man’s round, boyish face appeared to glow as it remained stuck in a perpetual smile brought forth by his mentor’s kind accolades.

  “If only the rest of the world could see things through your eyes, Walter, then our task would be unnecessary.” Charles watched as the young man’s smile grew brighter still. Placing one hand on his lower back, he took a deep breath and forced himself to stand with his back straight. “Everyone should be gone for the day by now. Let’s go up to the lab so that I can run a few more tests before the big day tomorrow.” As the muscles of his lower back relaxed, he simultaneously let the air escape slowly from his lungs.

  Just as Charles finished his sentence, Walter abruptly stopped smiling and looked down at the floor with his arms held stiffly down to his sides, fists clenched. “Sir, the professor is still in her office.” He lifted his massive right foot as if climbing a step that wasn’t there before stomping it down with a resounding clomp. “I don’t think she is ready to go home yet. She should be gone by now!” He duplicated the action with his left foot and frowned, completing the minor tantrum.

  “Scheiße!” exclaimed Charles, pounding his fist against his thigh. “Of all the nights to be working late,” he added under his breath. The need to accelerate his plans left him little choice in the matter. “It seems that fate has put the young professor at odds with our schedule.” Wringing his rough, bony hands together, he contemplated a solution to the dilemma. This was a mere bump in the road compared to what he’d faced to get this far.

  “Maybe tomorrow we can do the work? I can set up the lab again, I’ve practiced a lot,” offered Walter helpfully, sensing his elderly friend’s anxiety.

  Again, Charles found himself smiling at the gentle giant’s positive nature. “You are kind for offering, Walter, but I’m afraid it must be tonight. We will simply need to be extra careful,” he cautioned, reaching out to Walter to grasp his hands reassuringly. “I need you to stand watch and if she, or anyone else, comes near, we will tell them that we are cleaning. Do you understand, Walter?”

  “Yes, sir! I will stand watch!” said Walter with gusto as he released Charles’s hands, stood at attention, and saluted smartly.

  Always uncomfortable with that specific gesture of loyalty, Charles shook his head as he turned and knelt by the small refrigerator humming quietly under the lonely glow of the reading lamp. Ignoring the popping sound made by his knees, he pulled the refrigerator door open, activating a small, blue-tinted bulb inside. The meager radiance struggled to illuminate the contents of the fridge as Charles peered inside. The bottom shelf held a few bottles of water and a sandwich wrapped in wax paper. On the top shelf was a small cylindrical item that had been packaged with extreme care in plastic wrap. There were no markings to indicate what was inside, but he handled the object as if it contained unstable nitroglycerine. Taking the tightly bound bundle in both hands, he slowly stood up with a groan, resisting the temptation to grab at his lower back. Closing the fridge with his left foot, he walked toward the storeroom door.

  “Please open the door and then lock up behind us after we are both in the hallway,” Charles said concisely. Experience had taught him the importance of being specific, especially with a literal thinker like Walter. He had lost count of how many times either he or Walter had ended up locked out of the room when his instructions were not as well laid out.

  “Yes, sir!” said Walter, pulling open the door with his left hand and reaching into a deep pocket with his right.

  Stepping into the hallway, Charles turned around to face his friend just as Walter pulled an overburdened key ring from his pocket. He held it in front of him and jingled it for a moment, then looked for the proper key for the door’s deadbolt.

  “Wait a moment! I forgot something,” whispered Charles with importance, his eyes widening. Holding the mysterious package securely in one hand, he reentered the room and opened the fridge. He reached in and took out the sandwich. “It could be a long night,” he said, smiling to his counterpart. “I know you like bologna and cheese.”

  “Oh yes, sir! I do, sir!” said Walter, jubilantly jingling his keys as he smiled.

  “Okay. There is just one more thing before we head upstairs, Walter,” said Charles, looking seriously up at the man’s plump, rosy-cheeked face. Walter looked down at him intently through pale blue eyes and leaned slightly forward in anticipation.

  “Please stop calling me sir.”

  Chapter 19

  WORMS

  WEDNESDAY MORNING CAME early for the Agents after spending another evening at Pedro and Michelle’s. It didn’t take long for Seth to identify the fact that this family, like any stable entity, followed a strong routine. He sipped his coffee in the dining room with his hosts as the children arrived in order, Lita first, followed eventually by Marc. They discussed Michelle’s culinary skills, the kids’ eating habits, and the arrival of a slight break in the heat wave wh
ich had been plaguing Wisconsin residents much of the summer. Today, however, the tone was decidedly more pleasant as they set aside the heated discussion of the day before. It was a new day, and Pedro was in good spirits. The scene was truly picturesque. Everything seemed to be coming together, in an almost cosmic way.

  Leo and Seth left the house only a short time after Pedro said his farewell and headed off to work. With hugs for the kids and Michelle, both men expressed deep appreciation for the hospitality they were shown during their longer than anticipated stay. Lita stood with Marc at the top of the driveway, holding her new teddy bear as she joined her brother to wave goodbye to their Uncles. One being family and the other being honorary, of course.

  Although they would normally have been happy to linger a short while longer, the agents were driven by the prospect of knowing what Professor Shukla had found during her data analysis and wondered if the files they had in their possession would shed light on the mystery. Holding the box of files in his lap, Seth took his position as copilot in Gertrude and nervously eyed the tape deck, wondering what he could do to divert Leo’s attention from launching the inevitable heavy metal attack on his senses.

  Just as Leo started the ignition and reached his hand toward the volume control, Seth took out his cell phone and held up his hand. “Wait a sec! I need to call headquarters and check in with Bad-news-Bob,” he said, trying not to sound contrived.

  Leo’s eyes narrowed looked at Seth suspiciously, slowly taking his hand away from the stereo knob. “Better you than me, amigo. Bob’s a grizzly bear in the morning,” he reminded Seth, offering a crooked smile as he laughed with devilish satisfaction.

  Realizing that he probably just traded one agony for another, Seth sighed and dialed Dolores’s phone number.

  Guiding Gertrude slowly out of the driveway, Leo began the drive through morning traffic toward the University of Wisconsin Hospital for the third time in as many days. Listening with interest to his partner’s phone call, he felt the familiar frustration that came from hearing only half of the conversation. Judging by how quickly Dolores transferred Seth’s call to Assistant Special Agent in Charge Simpson, as well as the number of times Seth said, “I’m sorry sir,” Leo could tell that things weren’t going very well.