by Mike Ryan
“What do you want?” Bowman asked without rolling the window down.
Recker tilted his head and pointed at his ears, pretending he couldn’t quite make out what Bowman was saying. Agitated, Bowman rolled his window down.
“I said, what do you want?”
“Oh, I was just wondering why you were sitting here looking at little kids,” Recker said.
“Go away.”
Bowman attempted to roll his window back up but Recker prevented him from doing so at first by putting his hands on the edge of the glass. Eventually though, the force of the power window made him lose his grip and the window rolled all the way up. Rattled, Bowman reached for the ignition and turned the key in an attempt to leave the scene. Obviously, Recker’s attempts for a conversation were not off to a good beginning. Though he could’ve just let Bowman leave since he was obviously rattled and perhaps Recker thwarted his plans, it just wasn’t good enough for Recker. He reached around to his back and withdrew one of his guns and turned it around, holding it by the barrel. Recker then took the weapon and slung it to the side of his head as he viciously brought it back down like a backhanded slap, rapping it against the glass as the window shattered. Bowman stopped what he was doing and put his arms up over his head to protect himself from shards of glass cutting into his face. After a few seconds, Bowman put his arms back down, revealing his face once again to the stranger on the outside. Recker once again swung his weapon in a backhanded manner, this time forcefully hitting Bowman across the bridge of his nose, causing his head to violently snap back against the headrest. Recker then moved the gun to his left hand and reached through the window and unleashed a right cross that caused Bowman to slump across the gear lever in the middle console. Recker pulled the lock up on the inside of the door and opened it, pushing Bowman completely into the passenger seat, though half of his body was on the floor of the seat well. With Bowman in a lot of pain and holding his face due to the blood dripping down from his broken nose, Recker took control of the wheel and peeled out of the parking space.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Bowman yelled, though it was somewhat garbled as his hands were covering his mouth from still holding his nose.
“I’m just a concerned citizen,” Recker said.
Recker wasn’t exactly sure where he was going, figuring something would occur to him as he was driving. Or maybe, he’d see something which would just stick out to him as a good place to go. His phone started ringing again, though he didn’t even check to see who it was, assuming it was Jones, and he didn’t especially feel like talking to him again at the moment.
“Where are we going?” Bowman asked.
“Just shut up.”
“You broke my nose.”
Recker kept his eyes o the road, not feeling bothered at all. “I’m heartbroken.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
Recker didn’t respond and instead focused on driving. He noticed Bowman starting to move around a little more, like he was about to get off the floor entirely and get in the seat.
“Just stay where you are or I’ll break a few more things,” Recker said.
He didn’t feel the least bit threatened by the man, but Recker didn’t want to take chances and have his passenger try something stupid. Having him kneeling on the floor kept him at a more acceptable distance. After a short drive, Recker saw a small shopping center and pulled in, parking near the outside of it, as far away from the stores as possible. It was a small center that had a grocery store, drug store, pizza shop, as well as a few other small establishments.
“Looks like this is where it ends, sonny,” Recker said.
Bowman looked worried. “What are you gonna do with me?”
“Well, you and your friend Laine seem to have a little problem with looking at the kids, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Do I look stupid to you?”
“No.”
“I’ve seen the messages you two creeps have sent to each other.”
“It was nothing,” Bowman said, shrugging his shoulders. “We were just kind of kidding around.”
“You don’t joke about things like that. Besides, if it was just kidding around, you wouldn’t have been at the school where I found you, would you?”
“I was just taking a drive and parked for a few minutes. The kids make me feel good.”
“Yeah, I bet they do.” Recker felt sick to the stomach at the thought of what kind of ‘good’ the kids made Bowman feel.
“So, what are you gonna do?” Bowman asked, seeing the gun sitting on the seat between Recker’s legs.
“Well, I’m supposed to be having a chat with you to tell you never to do it again but I have a feeling it’s gonna be useless. Isn’t it?”
“I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured you’d say that. Then tomorrow when I’m not around anymore you’ll find yourself right back in the same situation.”
“No. I swear.”
Recker sighed, unsure of the point of having the conversation. He could tell it wasn’t going anywhere. And like he said, as soon as he was gone, Bowman would be right back to doing the same thing. He wasn’t going to change just because of a conversation with Recker. Recker wasn’t sure why he even bothered to listen to Jones and try this method first. It was a complete waste of time. He should’ve just did what he wanted to do in the beginning. Recker grabbed the Glock from between his legs and pointed it at Bowman. Without thinking or blinking, he fired three rounds into his target’s chest, killing the man instantly as his face slumped down onto the seat, his shirt soaked in blood.
He didn’t want to stay at the scene very long, so Recker quickly got out of the car and started walking back to his. Luckily it wasn’t too far away. It’d give him some time to calm down. Shooting someone was never a good feeling, no matter who it was, though Recker knew taking out someone like that was necessary. As he walked, he reached into his pocket and removed his phone to see who had called him. As he suspected, it was Jones. To pass the time, Recker called him back.
“You need something?” Recker asked.
“I was just calling to see how you were making out.”
“Good.”
“When you say good, you mean?”
“I mean it’s done. Onto the next one.”
“You talked with Bowman?” Jones said.
“I did. Didn’t do a bit of good.”
“Oh. So, what happened?”
“What do you think happened? He’s dead,” Recker said.
“Oh.”
“I did what had to be done.”
4
It’d been a few weeks since the meeting in CIA Director Roberts’ office and his patience had reached its limits. He was mystified and frustrated that the agency had seemingly made no progress in that time. He had meetings lined up all day to figure out how to proceed next. Sam Davenport and his Centurion team had run out of time in his mind to find either Smith, or 17’s killer, or whether or not Smith was responsible for it. He was ready to try something new. That something was someone he trusted who could bring a fresh set of eyes to the situation. Davenport and his crew obviously had no new leads and had run out of options. Roberts’ first meeting was 9am with a familiar face. His intercom buzzed with a message from his secretary. It was a few minutes early, but Roberts asked her to inform him the moment his visitor arrived.
“Yes?”
“Michelle Lawson is here,” his secretary said.
“Send her in.”
Lawson was a bit surprised she was going to be seen so soon. She fully expected to have to wait a while. Not that she was unhappy about it. She was pleased she wasn’t going to have to just sit and wonder why she was there for half an hour. She had no advanced warning and she wasn’t given any explanation of what she was doing there. She was told at the last minute to get to Roberts’ office immediately. As soon as she opened the door, she was greeted with a smile and a
handshake from the director. With his warm and pleasant disposition, she assumed she wasn’t in hot water, or getting fired. It’d been a few years since her last encounter with Director Roberts. Her first, and only, meeting with him was in the same very office she was now in. Roberts asked her to sit at his desk as he walked around and did the same now.
“Good to see you again, Shelly,” Roberts said.
“Good to see you too, sir. I think.”
Roberts smiled. “Relax. You’re not in any trouble or anything. I guess you’re wondering why I called you here.”
“Yeah, a little bit.”
“You’ve done a great job with Project Specter, but to be honest, the project is probably going to be winding down in the next few years.”
“Oh?” Lawson said, worried for her future.
“We’ve got several similar projects going on now, and in the future. We’re going to need people to run those projects. And I’m going to need to appoint people I can trust to run them.”
“OK?”
“I’m not promising you anything right now, but I’d like to put you in the mix for those assignments when the times comes. To do that, you need to spread your wings a little bit.”
“In what way?”
“You’re going to have to expand your horizons and not be just a handler. You’re going to have to have more of an influence, a greater position of power and authority.”
“How?” she said.
“I would like you to wrap up your work at Specter and become some sort of a freelancer,” Roberts said to her. “I’d like you to work on more pressing issues and situations as they arise, then when they’re over, move on to the next one. Kind of like a high leverage specialist.”
“And I’d have to give up what I’m doing now?”
“Yeah, it’d be too much on your plate to do both.”
“How much time do I have? When would this new position start?”
“You’d have to start immediately, such as tomorrow. How much time, well, today.”
“Wow. That’s quick. Not that I’m not grateful for thinking of me or for the opportunity, but why me? I’m sure there’s other people who are more qualified for this,” Lawson said.
“Like I said, I want someone I can trust. After the work you’ve done on Specter and Matthew Cain, I know I can trust you. I know you won’t take shortcuts. But Cain hasn’t worked for us in two years, Eric Raines is an experienced agent who doesn’t need a handler with your expertise, you need to start thinking about moving up.”
“But if we ever have hopes of getting Cain back into the fold, I don’t think he’ll do it without me.”
“You very well may be right about that. But that’s a discussion for another day. If that were to ever happen, we’ll deal with it when the time comes,” Roberts said.
“What’s the assignment you want me on?”
Roberts slid a file folder across the desk. Lawson picked it up and started looking through its contents as the director continued explaining.
“Project Centurion,” Roberts said. “It was the next thing after Specter. Three months ago, one of their agents, 17, wound up dead not far from his home in Ohio inside an airport. Since then, we’ve still got no leads, no options, no nothing. Other than theories, which we’re swimming in. John Smith, an agent Centurion leadership tried to take out several years ago is thought to be behind the killing, mostly because 17 killed his girlfriend. At least that’s the theory. No proof though.”
Lawson intently continued reading the file, trying to get a thorough understanding of what was going on. It was a lot of information being thrust upon her suddenly. These black ops projects were extremely secretive in nature, and nobody outside of the project, other than senior leadership, had any knowledge of any other actively running projects. It was a lot to digest in such a short amount of time.
“So, basically, at the heart of all this, my duties on this assignment would be to find 17’s killer, and this John Smith, assuming that it’s not the same thing,” Lawson said.
“That’s it. Sam Davenport, who’s in charge of the Centurion Project, hasn’t come up with a damn thing in a month. The DNI is pressing me for information. Information that I can’t give him, because we haven’t got any.”
“Umm, one other thing...reading this file, I, uhh...well, what exactly was the reason Smith was targeted to begin with? It’s not really clear in this file.”
“Apparently, Smith wanted to leave and expressed that desire, and he may or may not have divulged any details to his girlfriend. Davenport deemed that to be a security risk and sought to eliminate him,” Roberts said. “This was done without my knowledge or approval. I actually just found out about Smith a month ago myself.”
“May I speak freely, sir?”
“Of course.”
“This case they have against Smith to begin with is rather…”
“Weak?”
“Yes.”
“I agree. And if it had come across my desk at the time it happened I would not have sanctioned or authorized any action against him. But, well it’s water under the bridge now. Now we have to clean up the mess,” Roberts said.
“And what are your orders regarding Smith if I find him?”
“To do what has to be done. To grow into a leadership position, you’re going to have to make the ultimate call. You understand?”
“I do. But what if I find Smith and he’s not the one who killed 17?” Lawson said.
“Possibly the same thing.”
“What if I could bring him back in? The case against him is weak to begin with from what I can see. He could still be a valuable asset to us if I could reach him.”
Roberts chuckled and put his hand over his mouth. “It’s what I like about you. Not only do you think about the improbable, you don’t immediately dismiss the chances it can be done either. Not one other person has even brought up the possibility of bringing Smith back in as part of the team.”
“Well, I do have a tendency to think outside the box sometimes.”
“And that’s why I thought of you for this. And why you need to get out from your handler shoes and expand your horizons. Do you remember the last time you were here?”
“I do.”
“You came in here under difficult circumstances, and while some people would be intimidated, you fought for your beliefs. It’s always stuck with me.”
“It’s easy to fight for something you strongly believe in. Especially when it concerns someones life.”
“But not everyone would do that.”
“I also knew him. I knew he was innocent. It wouldn’t be so easy or clear with someone I don’t know. Someone I only know from reading a file.”
“It should never be easy. Once it is, it’s time to move on.”
Lawson sat back in her chair and sighed deeply as she held the file folder, still reading the contents. Like Roberts suggested, this was a big opportunity for her. Hearing Project Specter was on its last legs was a bit startling, but not completely surprising. It was a project with an overabundance of issues over the years, though under new leadership, seemed to be heading back in the right direction. Unfortunately for everyone involved in Specter, though, there’d been a black cloud hanging over its head ever since their former director was indicted and found to act unethically. Several of their top agents had either retired or been transferred to other projects. Lawson moving on would be a big step up in her career. Another opportunity, at least one as strong as this one, might never come along again. The longer she thought about it, the more appealing it became. How many times in one’s career does the CIA Director personally offer something like this? Probably never again. Plus, it was a good challenge. After a few more minutes of thought, her mind was pretty much made up.
“Before I make a decision, where would I work, who do I report to…,” Lawson began before being interrupted.
“You’ll initially work out of New York, not far from your current office. You’ll have complete
and total access to all Centurion’s files and information. As far as who you report to, it’s easy, you report to Executive Director Manning and me. That’s it. This is yours, you own it, you have everything in Centurion and the agency’s power at your disposal. You need something, you order it, you get it.”
“And, uhh, Davenport, is he going to be...well, I’m sure he’s not...does he even know about this yet?”
“Not yet,” Roberts said. “And as to whether he’s going to be happy about you coming, no, no he won’t. But that’s immaterial. He’ll have to deal with it.”
Lawson nodded, still thinking. She knew what she wanted to do, what she thought was the right decision, but there was still something holding her back from saying the words. She never even dreamed about something like this happening, it was sort of a shock.
“Well?” Roberts asked. “What do you think?”
After brief hesitation, Lawson agreed to the proposition. “I, uhh, I accept,” she said with a smile.
“Excellent. You can accompany me to my next meeting then.”
“Your next meeting?”
“Sam Davenport.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize I’d be meeting him so soon.”
Roberts grinned. “I hoped, maybe anticipated, you’d be saying yes.”
“I guess I should call the office and tell them I’m being reassigned?”
“No need. I’ve already taken the liberty of reaching out to them. As soon as Director Hayes calls me back I’ll explain the situation to him.”
Roberts left the office for a while to attend to other matters. He left Lawson behind to continue reading the file so she could get more thoroughly acquainted with the case. She had about twenty more minutes until the meeting with Davenport. Though part of her was excited about the opportunity being presented to her, she was also a little nervous. She was being given control over a top secret black ops project, and even if it was only temporary, it was still a big chance for her to show what she could do. But she also knew she was being thrust upon Davenport at the last minute, and she was taking operational control over his organization on both the Smith and 17 cases. She assumed he wasn’t going to be happy at having her come aboard his operation. Lawson wasn’t someone who liked conflict or enjoyed wrestling for power over people and she could only imagine how many cold shoulders or evil looks she was going to receive. Working for a black ops project herself, she knew that if someone was suddenly thrust in to take over Project Specter, they probably wouldn’t be too well received either. It’d basically be a vote of no confidence on the current leadership. Otherwise, there’d be no need to bring a new person along.