by Thorpe, K.
Josh speaks Spanish again. “You’re making a mistake. I need that! Please, it’s a part of my research.”
The soldiers ignore his pleas, grab his arms, and handcuff him. The first soldier picks up Josh’s backpack as they escort him from the ruins. As the soldiers lead Josh down the stairs, the stone square slowly recedes in the distance, as if nothing and no one had disturbed its rest. The soldiers pull Josh down the final few stairs, shoving him into the vehicle. Josh looks up to the top of the ruins. So close. Will it be enough?
Chapter Two
Thirty-three-year-old Agent Katherine Elizabeth Natan sleeps on her couch, a blanket draped around her, as the early morning sun makes its way through her house. A gentle stream of sunlight glides delicately through the numerous windows in the small, suburban home, highlighting its crisp, clean décor. A minimalist, Natan’s 550-square-foot cottage style home was the perfect fit for her…just big enough for her and a few necessary furnishings. No frills, no bills…the motto she quotes to her rare guests.
The warm sunlight makes its way across her face, radiating the rich darkness of her hair against her soft, olive skin and beautiful feminine features. Natan’s beauty hides the hardness of her early life, the internal scars cloaked by external loveliness. Only her eyes give any flicker of the detail of her past pain…and only to those who know what to look for. Beyond the attractiveness and the scars lies the hidden, missing piece of her soul she still searches for, wondering to herself if it really is a part of her or simply an extension of herself that she’s mistakenly sought. Either way, the vacuous hole keeps her searching, stirring the restlessness within. Natan’s closed eyes flutter in R.E.M. as she dreams.
Inside her mind, the rich blue sky surrounds Natan as she hangs suspended in the air. She looks around her and above her, watching as the blue stretches out for what seems like forever. She glances below her, noticing only a collage of clouds creating a hammock beneath her. In the distance she sees a blinding white light. A door emerges from the light. It stands, hanging in the air unsupported in front of her with the blue sky as its backdrop. The lone white door drifts closer. Natan watches, stunned and intrigued. As the door inches closer, Natan struggles to back away, but she cannot. She watches in shock as it nears, slowly opening to an even brighter light within. The voice of God resonates loudly as the light intensifies: “Chalal.”
Natan awakens, startled. She looks around the room to get her bearings.
The same one again? Chalal. What is chalal? Sitting up on the couch, she half squints at a clock on the wall across the room. The clock reads 8:50 a.m.
Natan groans to herself. “Uhh! Not again!” She rushes from the couch, bumping her leg against the table as she gets up. “Ahh!” she exclaims as she grabs her leg, rubbing it as she quickly rushes out of the room. There’s no way I’ll get there in 10 minutes. I can hear Agent Knight already.
Natan stands in the doorway of her bedroom in her mismatched bra and underwear with one leg in her slacks and her shirt halfway on. While trying to put her other leg in her pants, she nearly falls over. Maybe chalal means really, really late. Natan hastily buttons her shirt with one hand as she uses the other to brush her hair. If the N.S.A. could see me now.
Chapter Three
A completely dressed and collected Agent Natan enters a busy central office of the main headquarters of the N.S.A. in Washington, D.C. Funding for the agency has come a long way since 9/11. The new paint and furnishings help to diminish the government feel of the building. Varieties of plants, feng shui colors, and sun-inspired lighting shield reinforced concrete walls designed to withstand bomb blasts and shelter hidden corridors leading to weapons and intel rooms that harbor U.S. secrets. Natan smiles to herself each time she enters the new offices. Makes you almost feel like you’re here for a yoga class.
Natan wears a dark pantsuit with a white shirt, standard government attire, with a government issued gun holstered at her side. Natan’s gun is the only jewelry she needs.
“Is that fresh?” Natan asks a female office worker as she approaches the coffee
area. The woman shakes her head no. Natan pours herself a half cup anyway and approaches the desk of her partner, twenty-nine-year-old rookie Rob Knight. His boyish good looks are accentuated by his charming smile and confident air.
“This really shows desperation, doesn’t it?” she says to Knight as she takes a sip. Natan cannot contain the usual grimace that accompanies the first sip of the black coal prepared for everyone by Knight himself. “It’s better than nothing, I guess, and I need all the help I can get this morning,” she justifies to her traumatized taste buds.
Knight watches Natan’s expression, attempting to use it to judge this morning’s cup. It doesn’t look good so far. At least my coffee sticks to your ribs. Knight shakes off his first failure of the morning. “Agent Natan, don’t get too cozy with that spectacular cup of coffee. Your presence was requested upstairs a half hour ago. What’s going on with you anyway? This is the third time this month you’ve been late.”
A suave Natan answers, “Don’t stress, Knight. I’ve got it covered. Just need a new alarm clock…that’s all.”
“Yeah. Well, as your partner, I hope you’ll be better at covering me than at keeping your appointments lately.”
Natan’s over the lecture. “Okay already. What’ve we got?”
Knight gets down to business. “Some math professor was apprehended in Mexico at a government-protected Mayan ruins site. He claims he was doing research.”
“Was he?” Natan asks.
“Looks like it. This professor must know some important people for it to fall in the N.S.A.’s lap.”
“Know how it got here?”
Knight shrugs his shoulders, “I honestly don’t. This entire thing is completely outside agency protocol.”
“Have they extradited him yet?”
“They’re refusing to…thus the problem.”
Natan heads out the door. “This should be interesting.” Then she realizes that Knight isn’t following. “Are you coming or what?” she asks.
“Section Chief Marsh requested you alone.”
“That’s odd that he didn’t request both of us.” Natan jokes, “Maybe the powers that be have realized that you’re still a little green around the edges and need more development in the paperwork department.”
“You never know, Agent Natan. With your consistent inability to get to work on time, I may not be the one stuck behind a desk.”
“The day I’m assigned to a desk will be the day you make a decent cup of coffee.”
Knight laughs. “It could happen.”
“Right, so can world peace.”
Agent Natan starts to leave.
“Agent Natan…” Knight calls after her.
Natan stops. “Yeah?”
“Work on your timing, will ya? I need the best backup I can get.”
Natan winks at Knight. “You’ve already got it, and you know it.” Agent Natan walks out into the hallway toward the elevator. She starts to sip her stale coffee again but changes her mind. She grimaces from the memory, and, still holding the cup, drops it down to her side. At least he’s a good shot.
She gets on the elevator and the doors close. The elevator goes up several flights and stops. The doors open and Natan steps into the hall, walking down the corridor. She tosses the cup in a wastebasket she passes on the way. Whatever happened to my WNBA career?
Natan walks past a half-open door, slows down, and then stops, as she checks her watch. Looking unsure, she walks back to the door and knocks lightly. Forty-five-year-old Alice Burns, sitting at her desk, sees Natan and waves her in. Alice’s gentle motherly appearance conceals her strong, no-nonsense nature. Outside the N.S.A. Alice is often mistaken as a fun-loving soccer mom. In actuality, only a few years ago Alice was a top field agent in her prime and the first woman ever to vie for the job of head of the N.S.A.
Natan lingers in the doorway as Alice stands to greet her.
“Kate. Sneaking in for a quick chat, are you? So nice to see you. I hear you’re having a busy morning. No use lingering.” Alice waves Natan into the office, “Come in…come in.”
“Yeah, actually I am. And, don’t let anyone hear you call me that.” Natan winces at the use of her first name in her presence at work.
Alice recognizes the issue and attempts to smooth it over. “I do realize that I’m the only one who holds the first name privilege with you, Kate. And, if you haven’t noticed, we are alone.”
“I know…I just don’t want Knight or any of the others thinking they can share that privilege.”
“Your secret is safe, even though you work with people who uncover information as an essential component of their daily jobs.”
Natan looks away, her mind drifting to places she never wanted to see again.
Alice tries to draw her back. “Hey, I missed you for lunch last week.”
Natan returns, “Yeah, sorry I couldn’t make it. Things have been kinda hectic. You did get my message, didn’t you?”
“Yes, and don’t worry about it. We’ll make time soon.”
“How have you been?” Natan asks.
“I can’t complain. Not sure anyone would listen if I did. Now, we both know that you didn’t come here for small talk on such a busy morning? So, let’s hear the request.”
“You really should be working investigations again.”
“I just know you well, that’s all.”
“Well…” Natan shifts uncomfortably. “I was wondering if you still had that number you suggested to me?”
“To the therapist?”
Natan nods yes. I can’t believe I’m in a place to need…this.
“You still having those dreams?”
Natan shifts uncomfortably. Every damn night.
“How long has it been now, six months? I guess you got tired of handling it alone, eh? I’m glad you’re finally going to look into this, because you haven’t seemed like yourself lately.” Alice moves back toward her desk. “I have her card somewhere. Let me get it for you.” Alice sorts through some papers on her desk and retrieves a business card. “I think this will do you a world of good, with all that sadness you’ve had to deal with in your life. It’s a wonder your heart can still beat at all.”
“Alice, you know that I’m okay. Besides, no one has a perfect life.”
“Of course you’re okay. You just need a little dusting off, that’s all. And, bite your tongue! My life is close to perfect. A vacation would be the cherry my life’s sundae has been missing.”
Natan’s demeanor shifts to serious again, “Alice, I need to know that this is just between us. I don’t want the agency to find out that I’m seeing a therapist…especially Agent Knight. I’d never hear the end of it.”
“This is me you’re talking to, remember? Wasn’t I the one who persuaded you to join the N.S.A.? I promised your father that I’d look out for you and I am. Besides, if you ask me, everyone here could use a little therapy. Agent Knight would be a great candidate himself with his obsessive neatness and all of that ironing he does.”
“I’m serious, Alice.”
“So am I. How about if I swear on my retirement?” Alice holds out the business card.
Natan surrenders and takes the card, sliding it into her pants pocket. “Let’s hope it’s not for a long while. It’s hard to imagine this place without you.”
“I’ve imagined it. Believe me.”
The two women laugh.
Alice leans in. “Speaking of Knight, it seems you’ve trained him well. And, word is you’re really in demand now. You know, I expected that, after you almost single-handedly prevented that terrorist attack in Boston.”
“Alice, you know that I had tons of help on that Boston thing. Besides, nobody does anything single-handedly in the N.S.A. Who knows, it could have even just been plain old luck.”
“Nonsense. Give yourself credit, Kate. So few others actually will. You should get to that meeting now. You know how much Chief Marsh hates waiting.”
“You’re still intercepting internal email, I see.”
“Well, of course. How else do you expect me to keep on top of things?”
“At least you haven’t resorted to bugging the phones.”
Alice winks at Natan. “You never know.” She raises her eyebrows. “Good luck. Maybe they’ll be sending you to the Caribbean.”
“If so, it’ll only be for a day or two.”
“Even a day or two away from D.C. would make me smile.”
“I think it’s Mexico.”
“Tomato…Tom’ato.”
Natan smiles as she steps into the hallway, leaving her friend behind. She walks to the end of the corridor to a door with a name plate that reads “SECTION CHIEF MARSH.” Natan knocks.
A deep, southern man’s voice answers from behind the door, “It’s about time.” In Marsh’s world everyone is always late even if they aren’t. Natan opens the door and walks in. The office radiates confidence. Tidy dark wood furnishings adorn the space. Marsh’s office reflects exactly who he is, a direct, hardworking, and no-nonsense fellow. Forty-eight-year-old Agent Marsh, a stern, retired military officer, sits at his desk mulling through paperwork. He is a man whose presence warrants respect, surrounding everyone around him with a quiet knowing.
Natan approaches his grand dark-cherry desk. “Hello, Sir. I apologize for my tardiness. It’s been a hectic morning.”
Not looking up, Marsh replies, “You think you’ve had a hectic morning, Agent Natan? I’ve got an American professor…” He flips through the pages in his hand, “…a Professor Josh Sails of Maryland University…stuck in Mexico because he thought it wise to trespass on Mexican government property for some damn Indian artifacts. A member of the Tactical Subcommittee, Congressman Bradshaw, called me at o’dark thirty this morning asking for help on this. And, I’ve got the head of the N.S.A. breathing down my neck on policy. Meantime, I just want to make sure the media doesn’t get wind of this whole fiasco. Now, you were saying?”
“I think they’re actually Mayan, Sir.”
Marsh waves his hand in the air in half annoyance, half haste. “Does it matter, Agent Natan? Let’s get down to business.”
“Sir, why was I requested for this case?”
Marsh thumbs through pages as he peers over his glasses. “To retrieve the professor, of course. And, we need a body down there pronto. They won’t release him until we show up personally. They want the handoff to be to an N.S.A. agent directly…and they requested you specifically.”
Natan shifts uncomfortably. “Sir? Who requested me? We both know that my expertise is counter-terrorism and it’s evident that’s not what’s going on here.”
Marsh finally looks up at Natan. “The professor requested you, Agent Natan…he wouldn’t accept anyone else. Is there some history I should know about here?”
Natan cannot hide that she is utterly offended. “Sir, are you implying I know this man?”
Marsh looks down at his paperwork. “Well, do you?”
Natan stands at a firm attention, not retreating from this mild provocation. “The first I’ve heard of him was this morning, Sir. And I don’t understand why the N.S.A. is involved in this at all.”
Marsh engages her again. “We are the National Security Agency, are we not, Agent Natan?”
“Of course, Sir. I’m just attempting to clarify some inconsistencies here. This isn’t our jurisdiction…and…”
Marsh interrupts her. “We’ve been requested to assist on this case and that’s what we’re doing.”
“But, Sir…”
Natan is interrupted again. “Natan, how long have you worked for the N.S.A.?”
“Just over three years, Sir.”
“Yes, and lately you’ve seemed a little preoccupied.”
Natan starts to defend herself but Marsh sees her attempt to interject and continues. “Now, I know your work speaks for itself. If you don’t know why he asked for
you, well, that makes two of us.”
“I’m at a loss at my involvement in this, Sir.”
“I don’t know how this professor got the connections he has, but he has them…lucky for him or his ass would be in a Mexican jail for as long as those artifacts have been down there. I was asked that we retrieve this guy and we need to keep this entire project classified.” Marsh looks up at Natan. “I’m asking you as a favor to handle it. I know this isn’t a glamorous assignment compared to Boston, but I would appreciate it.”
Natan’s instincts tell her that there is more to the story than Marsh is letting on. “Sir, what aren’t you telling me here?”
Marsh pushes the pages aside, focusing his complete attention on Natan. “I don’t even have all the specifics, and, at this point, I’m not sure I care to. We are to retrieve him and have him in Washington in time for dinner tonight. And, I was hoping to do it with as few questions as possible…in fact, I think you’ve used yours up already.”
Natan shifts silently from foot to foot.
Marsh inquires, “You’ve got other questions, Agent Natan?”
“Would you answer them if I asked?”
“Not likely.”
“I guess not, then, Sir.”
Marsh grabs some paperwork off of his desk. “Your itinerary is inside.” He hands the paperwork to Natan, who takes it from him. Natan starts to leave. “One other thing…” he says.
Natan stops. “Sir?”
“No use sending both of you. I’ll let Agent Knight know that you’ll be on your own with this one entirely. Now get outta here and have a safe trip.”
Natan leaves the office, replaying the conversation in her mind as she walks to her office to gather her things for the trip. So strange that the agency is involved in this…
Chapter Four
Natan stands in the hot Mexican sun outside what she imagines to be the filthiest prison building she has ever seen. She unbuttons her suit jacket, removing it as she folds it over one arm. I wonder how many prisoners in America would actually cry if they had to stay in a place like this. She takes a deep breath, mustering up her courage to enter.