The Adults in the Room

by Jeffrey Mechling

  Tim was very surprised at Pam’s outburst. He’d been hoping that Pam was not part of the conspiracy to keep him drugged, but he never suspected that she was responsible for telling Tim that she was dead. It had never occurred to Tim that he had been any kind of drag on Pam’s career. Tim viewed Pam’s lack of success at upper management as her own fault, but perhaps she had a point. Tim’s lack of seriousness on and off the job certainly did not endear him to anyone. He remembered one of his performance reviews. “Tim is an exceptional case officer,” the comment read, “but his lack of seriousness does not help him or his team.” At the time, Tim had been proud of that trait, but he’d never thought about the negative effects it might have had on his colleagues or his wife.

  Pam continued. “So, Sebastian and I thought that if you were told that I was dead, you would just accept it and not bother trying to find me. Trying to find a wife you didn’t remember anyhow... I thought that I deserved a new start.”

  “What about the Agency, Pam? Do they think I’m dead as well?”

  “No, as far as the Agency is concerned, you transferred to the Social Security Administration and retired from there. You are just another retired federal employee under the jurisdiction of the Office of Personnel Management. You are only dead to me.”

  “Dead to you, Pam? You know, I had forgotten what a sweetheart you could be. If that old Land Rover outside still runs, then just give me the keys and I’ll be out of here in ten minutes. It’s been fun playing house for the last couple of days, but maybe it’s time I get back to Baltimore.”

  “Tim, we are way past that now. If what you say about Sebastian is true, then you will not make it to Monday morning, and that goes for me, too. Come on. Let’s get something to eat.”

  Pam got up and headed back to the kitchen, taking the bread out of the toaster. Tim figured that Pam’s outburst was most likely related to his mentioning Pam’s father’s dementia, but he also knew that Pam was telling him the truth about wanting him out of her life. She was not the type of woman who would make such a statement, only to take it back an hour later.

  Tim walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. Pam handed him a plate with a perfectly made BLT on it, just like one he would expect to be served at a restaurant. Pam never did anything half-assed.

  They both ate in silence. Tim tried to let go of Pam’s comments but found that her words still stung. He really did just want to leave and return to the life he had been living for the last two years.

  Finally, Pam spoke. “So, you believe that Dr. Gray was administering drugs that resulted in amnesia? How would he be able to do that?”

  Tim was not sure if Pam was interested in his hypothesis about how Sebastian and Dr. Gray were able to keep him dazed and confused for the last two years or if she was just trying to restart the conversation. As far as Tim knew, Pam may have been in on it as well.

  “Dr. Gray wrote me prescriptions that he had me fill at a compounding pharmacy. He told me that a regular drug store like a CVS would not carry the medication and that it had to be made up special.”

  “What’s the name of the pharmacy, Tim?”

  “Kelley’s Pharmacy, which is right down the street from John Hopkins. It’s the pharmacy that makes the compounds used in lethal injections.”

  “That’s appropriate, I guess,” Pam said, but Tim felt that she was still just trying to make conversation and wasn’t all that interested.

  Tim continued anyway. “So, like a dummy, I just had it filled each month. Dr. Gray told me that the medication was to prevent seizures and headaches, plus it would help me sleep.”

  “And it worked?” Pam asked.

  “Yeah, it worked great. I couldn’t remember shit.”

  Pam and Tim went back to eating in silence. When they both finished, Tim collected the plates and glasses and placed them in the dishwasher. Pam stood up and motioned for Tim to follow her.

  Pam headed down to the basement and asked Tim to take a seat at the worktable. Next, she walked over to the gun locker and entered the combination. She removed what appeared to be two pistols and four magazines of ammunition, then placed the items in front of Tim.

  “I was hoping that we would not get to this point, but it appears we have,” Pam said as she picked up one of the two weapons. She double-checked that the pistol was unloaded before handing it to Tim along with the two magazines. “Have you been certified on this weapon, Tim?”

  It was Tim’s nature to make a joke about everything, and guns were no exception, but Pam’s outburst about Tim’s lack of seriousness had changed the tone of their relationship. “Yes, Pam, I’ve qualified on the range,” he said.

  “That’s not what I asked you, Tim. Are you certified to handle this weapon?”

  There was a difference. Qualified meant that you scored over 70% shooting at a fixed target, whereas certification meant that you had a complete understanding of how to operate the firearm. The GLOCK G19 9mm was the last weapon that Tim had trained on. The first weapon that Tim had ever handled in his life was a Smith and Wesson .38 caliber revolver, which everyone trained on at spy school, but it was years before Tim needed to carry a weapon on assignment. As a rule, spies did not carry guns. Only the ones in the movies did. Getting caught packing a gun by the local cops in many countries would get you thrown in jail and then deported, which would defeat the purpose of you being there in the first place. Plus, the old saying of “never pointing a weapon at someone unless you intend to use it” was very true, so the gun play was always best left to the contractors who had experience in shooting at and killing people.

  With all this said, there were occasions where a firearm was required. Tim and Pam were in one now. He picked up one of the magazines and closed his eyes as to try and determine its weight.

  “They’re 24s,” Pam remarked referring to the number of bullets in the magazine.

  Tim was about to push the magazine into the handle of the luger when Pam stopped him. “I would prefer that you did not have a loaded firearm in the house, Tim.”

  “An unloaded gun is kind of worthless, Pam,” he said. But he placed both the gun and the clip back on the table.

  “Well, assuming we will be okay for today, before we do anything else, let’s go over to the range and get some practice.”

  “Where is the range?” Tim asked, thinking that they would have to drive to Leesburg.

  “Just behind the house.” Pam pointed in the general direction. “We will need to get up early, so don’t stay up too late.”

  Pam had pulled back and released the slide on her Glock 19, and it made a distinct click. She turned and headed back upstairs.

  “Don’t worry, mom, we’re going to bed right now,” Tim replied, but Pam was already out of hearing range. Just as well, he thought. She probably would not have found Tim’s comment particularly funny.

  Chapter 25

  Despite Pam’s wishes, Tim loaded the Glock after she had gone to bed, then walked through the house to make sure all the doors were locked. There was no reason to make it too easy for anyone coming in, although he did agree with Pam that it would be unlikely for Sebastian and Toby to try anything tonight. As far as Sebastian knew, Pam did not suspect that she had been double-crossed, so any planned assault on the Lovettsville Road safe house could wait until Sunday or Monday.

  Satisfied that all the doors were locked, Tim sat in the library and switched on the TV. The channel was on CNN, which had apparently decided to call the President’s illness “The Crisis in the White House.” CNN must have had ten different reporters on the story, plus another six talking heads to comment. Fox News was also offering wall-to-wall coverage, but they did not seem to have to the same number of reporters and talking heads as CNN. MSNBC was doing one of their usual “the President should be in jail” shows but were suggesting that perhaps he was only pretending to be sick so he would not have to go to jail. MSNBC was making it loud and clear to their audience that they were going to make sure that the President w
ould not get away with that. On the other hand, the four networks did not see any reason to interrupt their regularly scheduled programing in order to stand at the front gate of the Bethesda Naval Hospital and repeat the same information repeatedly.

  Tim heard the outside door to the kitchen open and figured that it must be Darrel, but he picked up his gun from the coffee table and put it in his pocket anyway. He headed to the kitchen, where Darrel was making a pot of coffee.

  “Hi, Darrel. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, Mr. Hall. Everything is fine.”

  “How is the President doing?” Tim asked, figuring that Darrel must have some inside information.

  Darrel laughed. “My understanding is that he has a tummy ache. That’s why everyone is so excited.”

  Oh, I bet he has one hell of a tummy ache, Tim thought to himself. The real problem for the doctors would be determining which poisons were used. Different poisons had different antidotes and treating the President for one but not the other could have deadly consequences.

  “Is that why we’re locked down, Mr. Hall? Is that why you have a Glock 19 9 in your pocket?”

  “Right now, Darrel, no one is sure about anything or anyone, and that includes Mr. Oak. I get that you don’t know anything about me, Darrel, but Mrs. Hall is calling the shots, and I think you know that above all else, you can trust Mrs. Hall.”

  Darrel nodded to indicate that he understood. “You can tell Mrs. Hall that no one will penetrate the perimeter tonight or any night that I am here.”

  “I will, Darrel, and thank you.”

  Darrel poured his thermos full of black coffee and headed back outside as Tim watched.

  “I just wish I could trust Mrs. Hall,” Tim said to himself.

  Tim walked back to the library and opened his iPhone. There was a text message from Mary Ann, but all Tim saw when he opened the message were three question marks. Tim decided to call her, but, at that moment, his cell phone rang.

  “Tim?” It was Mary Ann’s voice.

  “Mary Ann, where are you?”

  “I’m back at your condo. Toby brought me back here just now.”

  “Are you okay?” Tim wanted to know.

  “I’m fine, Tim, but I’m confused. What’s going on?”

  Tim was at a loss about what to tell Mary Ann. He was happy that she was away from Toby and Sebastian...but for how long?

  “Mary Ann, in the freezer of my refrigerator, I have some money hidden. Take it and get out of town.”

  “I’m not leaving without you,” she protested. “I know you are in trouble, but you need to tell me what’s going on.”

  “Where is Sebastian? Is he in the room with you now?”

  “No, Sebastian and Toby have both gone off. I don’t know where, but Toby told me that when he comes back, we are going to go back to Las Vegas. He said that Sebastian told him that our work is just about finished here. But I’m not leaving without you, Tim.”

  “Can you get your hands on a car?”

  “I already have a car, Tim.”

  It hadn’t occurred to Tim to wonder if Mary Ann had a car or not. He’d never thought to ask.

  “Really? What kind of car do you have?”

  “It’s a red 2012 Toyota Camry, and neither Toby nor Sebastian knows that I have it. I keep it in a garage over by the hospital.”

  “That’s fantastic. Anyway, if you look in my freezer, you will find about ten thousand dollars in cash and some gold coins. Take that and head for Leesburg, Virginia. There is a Red Roof Inn right off US Route 15. Check in under the name Mary Ann Sky Horse.”

  “Mary Ann Sky Horse?” she repeated doubtfully.

  “Yes, that’s your new Native American name.”

  “Well, okay, Tim.” Mary Ann still sounded unsure.

  “And Mary Ann, ask for a room around back and off the road.”

  “Okay, Tim,” she agreed again. “Anything else?”

  “Yes. When you leave my condo, leave the lights on and go out by the loading dock area. We must assume you’re being watched. Do you know how to get from Baltimore to Leesburg?”

  “No, not really, but isn’t it close to Dulles Airport?”

  “Yeah, about fifteen or so miles. Stay on the interstates and toll roads. When you get here, send me a text.”

  “Okay, Tim, I got it.”

  “Wonderful. Now, please be careful.”

  “I will, Tim.”

  “Okay. Love you.”

  “I love you too, Tim.”

  Tim put down the iPhone and turned his attention back to CNN. Although the sound was turned down, he could tell what the four talking heads were discussing. What happens if the President were to die? For Christ’s sake, Tim thought, some of these assholes just can’t wait. He recalled the day that John F. Kennedy was shot in Dallas, and how some of his second-grade classmates were happy about it and said as much. As Tim became older, he understood that these children were just repeating their parents’ opinions of the man; but it still gave him a creepy feeling that any American would celebrate the death of their President, no matter what their political persuasion.

  Tim’s phone beeped, letting him know that he’d received a text. It was from Mary Ann. “On my way,” it said, followed the three hearts.

  Tim figured that he would get Pam to drive him to Leesburg to find Lockwood and Justice. After that, he would ditch Pam and hook up with Mary Ann and take off to Canada or Mexico. Of course, that all depended on whether Mary Ann was indeed by herself and it wasn’t a trap.

  “Tim?” Pam was calling to him from upstairs. “Are you coming to bed?”

  “Do you care?” Tim responded.

  “Yes, I want to speak with you.”

  Tim turned off the TV, grabbed his phone and Glock, and headed upstairs.

  Pam was waiting for him on the landing. “Is that a loaded gun?” she demanded.

  “Yes, Pam, I have loaded my firearm, and I hope you’ve done the same.”

  Pam seemed to let the no-loaded-guns-in-her-house issue go. Tim continued to his room, knelt by his bed, and placed the gun between the top and bottom mattresses.

  “Well, I just hope the safety is on,” Pam said as she stood in the door.

  Tim turned around to face her. “So, what do you want to talk about, Pam?”

  “Us. I would like to talk about you and me.”

  Tim wanted to tell Pam that, as far as he was concerned, there was no “us”—but that sounded too much like a line in some movie. “Okay, Pam, let’s talk about us,” he agreed.

  Pam pulled up a chair and sat down. “Tim, I believe that our marriage was over a long time ago, and that you and I were just going through the motions of being married. So, I was planning on asking, or suggesting, I should say, that you and I call it quits when we returned from China.”

  “Yes, China,” Tim repeated. “It funny to me how China keeps coming up.”

  “I guess it was the tipping point. Do you remember anything about that operation now?”

  “No, Pam. All I know is what you and Sebastian have told me.”

  “You and I were meeting Lilly Lin at her house. She was going to tell us who in the United States was passing on the source codes to a number of computer programs, but you also thought that perhaps I should come on to Lilly in a sexual way.”

  “If you say so, Pam, but I remember none of this.”

  “Well, you did, and that’s not the first time you’ve suggested that I start lesbian affair with a woman we needed as an asset. I think it turned you on.”

  “Pam, I’m sorry if any of this made you uncomfortable, but we were there to do a job, not to party. You’ve been playing this game for too long now to all of a sudden decide that the Agency has exploited you sexually but please finish your story.”

  “You are missing the point, Tim. I have laid my body and soul out for this company, and all I get is a nice house to live in rent-free as long as I’m willing to babysit a bunch of creeps.”

  Tim wondered
for a second if Pam also considered him a creep but thought that he’d better not ask. He now had a clue what was bothering his wife. “So, this is all about you not getting a station assignment at an embassy?”

  Most US embassies had a CIA station that was known to everyone, and the station chief was a known member of the Agency. No more covert or undercover work, everything right out in the open. To many, it was a plum assignment, provided you were in a relatively safe country. On the other hand, Tim knew a Chief of Station who was assigned to a country that was so unsafe he was forced to sleep in a cage.

  “It’s just not fucking fair, Tim. I shot and killed Lilly Lin to save us, and management is holding that against me.”

  Pam was becoming visibly upset, and Tim knew he had to calm her down. “Pam, look at me,” he said, and Pam looked up. “Tell me how it all happened.”

  “I took Lilly’s hand and told her that I would like to get to know her better. She stood up and walked to the door. Next thing I know, she’s holding a gun on you, Tim, and demanding that you get down on your knees. She then says that we are under arrest for spying and starts to make a phone call, but she is looking at you, not at me. I had a Glock 19 strapped to my ankle, which I pulled and shot Lilly. The bullet hit her in her neck, and blood was everywhere. Sebastian then came running in from outside. You were still on your knees, but you should have seen your face.”

  “Pam, you say that Sebastian came running into the apartment. Are you sure about that?”

  “Positive. He took us downstairs and put me in a car with one of our Chinese contacts. You and Sebastian jumped in the other car, which is the one you had the accident in.”

  “But was I driving?”

  Pam had to think for a second.

  “I’m pretty sure that Sebastian was driving.”

  “And you said Sebastian came into the room after you shot Lilly?”

  “Yes, but why are you asking?”

  “Because Sebastian told me that you and I came running out of the building and jumped in the car. He said that I shoved him over and demanded to drive. Maybe it’s a small detail, but then again, maybe not.”