by Gavin Green
"I'm not much of a wine guy, but I'll give it a shot." I took a sip, and my taste buds almost had an orgasm. It was like nothing I'd ever tasted before; fruity, honeyed, strong, had a mild kick, went down like velvet and made my mouth tingle. I took another taste. And then another.
Ms. Rondeau smiled at whatever expression was on my face. "I'm glad you like it," she said. "Now, as I was saying, my employer takes security seriously, and is well-versed with your file. She had some access to your information because of her past and present dealings with Silas Security. She was also made aware of the events at the home of Stanley Everett, whom she has had financial arrangements with in the past. While very unfortunate that two of your people were lost, I'm told you were quite impressive."
I set my wine glass down. "Everett opened his mouth, did he?" I asked rhetorically with a frown.
"A Mr. Crane at Silas spoke highly of you as well. That only strengthened my employer's opinion of you, Mr. Beck. A greater interest to my employer was your military career."
I finished a bite of steak and washed it down with the awesome wine. "A lot of people are veterans."
"Yes, but not many have your specific training. As I've come to understand it, force recon mostly deals with survival, stealth, and gathering intelligence. The file I was given says you excelled at it, as well as various forms of self-defense. My employer finds that quite useful."
"Okay, first, can I get another glass of that Wine? And secondly, who exactly is your employer?"
Ms. Rondeau gestured for me to help myself to the wine while she chewed a bite of her own meal. "My employer desires privacy as much as you do, Mr. Beck. I can, however, guarantee a personal meeting if you decide to become part of Realm Management. Since I can't speak much more on that matter, what if we discuss what exactly would be expected of you, as well as your compensation package?"
After all of her big words, it boiled down to me being versatile in the company's need of me. I might be asked to blend in at parties, a private museum hosting or two, and a few gallery showcases. A majority of my time, though, was to be an EP for some executives of Realm Management, including the mystery employer. When not given orders on a company phone, Ms. Rondeau would be my contact for duties that included package inspection, delivery of important materials, and surveillance on certain individuals and small factions that "had no love for the company", as she put it.
The compensation package wasn't too shabby. My salary would have been nearly double what I was making at Keegan's and Silas Security combined. Other perks were a company credit card, a company car, a stipend for a new wardrobe, an insurance package, moderately high security clearance, and the use of a downtown loft. I wasn't too thrilled with the loft offer; I liked my little house.
A little while after we finished our meals and the wine bottle was empty, I thanked Ms. Rondeau for the delicious meal and the good company. I asked for a day or two to think about the offer. She agreed to my request without any hesitation, and handed me her card to contact her directly. The same chauffeur took me home; I tipped him a Jackson and got inside to get out of my suit. I sat back and thought about if I was ready for a big change. I fell asleep and dreamed about a gorgeous blonde with amber eyes.
CHANGE
The next day was warm for early February, so I decided to walk to Keegan's around lunch time. On the way, I called John Crane. He asked how I was, told me that Mr. Everett added big tips to the fee, and that I should take it easy until I was fully healed. His concern for me made me feel even shittier when I mentioned that I was debating another job offer. It was only fair to tell him since I didn't know how much notice I might be able to give if I took it.
Not being very familiar with any of the normal Monday lunch crowd, I sat at the end of the bar and ordered a drink and a plate of hot wings. Keeg's wife Deb came out from the office and joined me. I told her the same thing I told Crane. She asked more about the job offer and, as I described it, I realized just how good of an offer it was. I also realized how safe I felt in my comfort zones, and would have to get used to new routines. Another new thing, just when I'd settled in.
My situation wasn't exactly what I'd planned when I got out of the Marines. I did six years of active duty, and the last two at home as a reserve. With my type of training and experience, there weren't going to be a lot of civilian jobs waiting for me. The Corps wanted me to re-up. After I got ripped up by an IED that also took out two of my men, I'd had enough. I sat back in a bed, bandaged on my left side from knee to noggin, and phoned my mom that I was coming home. She was always a worrier, so I never told her about any of my wounds.
I came home to a much different situation from when I left. With my dad not being around for a long time, my mom had mellowed out considerably. See, my dad was a part-time abusive prick; we never knew when he might get in a foul mood, so it kept us edgy. After my brother Al died in a car wreck when he was eighteen, my dad's darker moods came out more often. If he was calm, my mom was all smiles and the scent of Pledge filled the house with her happy-cleaning thing. If he was being a dick, she withdrew and spent more time in the kitchen or out in the garden. I joined her when it was safe.
After years of verbal and emotional abuse, my mom and I were granted a miracle. I was seventeen when dear ol' dad had a massive heart attack. He and I were in the basement working on a water pipe when it happened. I stood over him and waited until I was sure he was dead before I told my mom or dialed 911. My dad was buried over ten years ago in a cemetery that had cheap plots. I paid a little extra for his small headstone to have an epitaph: 'Josef R. Beck - 1953-2004 - No big loss'.
Since my mom's passing, and my two month bender afterwards, I got my jobs at both Silas and Keegan's and relaxed into a routine. Deb knew the basics of my past after I got out of the Marines - my missions were still classified, so I never talked about 'em - and realized that I was feeling insecure, or whatever you want to call it. She reminded me that change could be a good thing, and another opportunity like the one I was offered probably wouldn't come around again. I shouldn't have listened to her.
SARAH
As I walked down my block going home from Keegan's, I saw a small, black delivery van parked in front of my house. When I got closer, one of the two guys in the van got out. He was a chubby guy who wore a black coat with the Realm Management logo on it. He just stood by the van and smiled.
When I got close to the gate of my fenced-in front yard, the delivery guy asked if I was Mr. Beck. After making sure, he got a box crate out of the back of the small van and said it was 'compliments of Ms. Rondeau and her employer'. I asked him how long he'd been sitting there waiting for me; he said that he was told to wait as long as it took to make the delivery. I was starting to feel pretty fucking important.
Once inside, I took the black wrapping off a wooden container about the size of a shoebox. Stamped on it was the word 'fragile' in a few languages. Inside was packing foam, an envelope, and a bottle. Written by hand on the envelope was the words 'time reimbursement'. The check inside of it was enough to make me whistle.
The bottle inside the box was about half the size of a regular wine bottle. The fancy label said 'Le Meur Cabernet Sauvignon', which didn't mean shit to me, other than it was wine. My hunch was confirmed when I uncorked it and took a sip; it was the same red wine from dinner the night before. Oh hell yes.
I resisted temptation and just stuck with Jack and Coke that night. The next day, I was coming home from the grocery store when I got a call from Ms. Rondeau's office. One of her assistants - a gal named Sarah, who had a sexy voice - had an offer on her boss's behalf. She asked if I wanted a tour of a few places I'd see a lot of, if I accepted the position. Sure, what the hell. Sarah said she'd personally come pick me up the following afternoon. I thanked her, hung up, and then stepped out back and fired up my cheap grill. Screw the weather; I was going to have a rib-eye with that wine, dammit.
That night, I had another dream of the same blonde woman with golden eyes. I'
d never seen her before in real life, but I remembered details of her from that dream. It was so fucking vivid. She had long, light blonde hair with strands of copper, and her pale skin was flawless. She was in shadows, but I felt drawn and knew right where to find her. She held me and we moved. Not dancing, really; it was more like an embrace in slow motion. The dream wasn't actually erotic, although I did wake up with serious wood.
The next afternoon, a black sedan pulled up in front of my house. Luckily I didn't have to wear a suit that time; I wore 'em a lot, so getting to wear casual clothes was a bonus. Sarah called as I was putting a coat on - one without bullet holes in it. When I got in the car, she was all innocent smiles with a heavy hint of flirtation; sort of a mix between a tour guide and an exotic dancer, or a cheerleader and a bar skank. Sarah was cute, but not the 'girl next door, treat her like a lady' type. She was more like the 'girl from out of town, treat her like a dirty whore' kind of cute.
The first place Sarah brought me was to an art gallery. It was a big place, and had displays from three different artists. Two of them mainly did abstract paintings, which I thought were shit. The last display was from a photographer, who had some nice shots. I got bored of that pretty quick, so I basically cased the place; exits, restrooms, alarms, camera locations, access to back rooms, and general layout. A dozen people milling around, and no guard present - the security was reactive rather than preventative.
On the way out, I told Sarah a little about what I noticed. She asked what changes I would make while she drove us into downtown. Once onto the avenues with tall buildings all around us, Sarah asked if I'd like to have dinner before we visited the Realm offices. She was in the mood for Italian, and there was a good place nearby. Over big bowls of chicken Alfredo, Sarah asked about my family. I didn't go into any details; I just said that I didn't have any. I got the topic off of me and asked what her normal job was. She mostly had to deal with artists, who were sometimes temperamental, so I was a 'real treat'.
BUM
It was nearing dusk when we went in the restaurant, so it was dark when we came out. The parking lot next to the building was lit by one streetlamp, which was enough to see a homeless guy pissing on Sarah's car. There were other cars in the lot; I don't know why he went back and chose hers. And he wasn't just tinkling on a tire - he was blasting the driver's door, dousing the window, the door handle, everything. Sarah gasped and swore. I was caught somewhere between disgust and laughter.
I really didn't feel like roughing up a bum; I just wanted to run him off. As I approached, he looked at me and put his junk back in his pants, but didn't move. The guy could have been anywhere between forty and sixty; it was tough to tell with his shaggy beard and unwashed face. His layers of clothing were ripped and stained, and I could smell him from ten feet away. The thing that unnerved me was that one of his eyes was squinted, like he was defiantly sizing me up. The other eye was opened wide, paranoid and twitching. I stopped at the other side of Sarah's car so that the bum had a free path to leave.
"Hey, man, not cool," I said calmly but stern. "I think you should get away from the car now."
The bum shifted from one foot to the other, still giving me that wild stare. "Sweet danger at your doorstep, boy," he said with a raspy, smoker's voice. "Flowers will dance, and then they will wilt! Colors will spin and eyes will alight before fading. But the power is in your backyard - power!"
Oh great, a whacko. "Hey, yeah, that's great, man. Now why don't you get moving before my friend back there calls the cops, alright?" I glanced back and saw that Sarah was already on her phone.
Ol' crazy eyes shuffled out from between the cars and moved closer to me. I tensed and slid one foot back for better balance, just in case. I initially didn't want to hurt him, but he was getting aggressive.
"The dark eye, the cracked flesh," the bum wheezed. "The ancient shadow, he looms, boy! Can't you feel it?" His arms flailed as he spoke, and that one eye opened even wider.
I sighed. "All I can feel is my patience coming to an end, old man. So go away, now." I'm not sure why, but the words of his insane rant unsettled me.
He moved toward me with a jerk, like his crazy eye was pulling him. "She is a tool!" he said, turning his glare to Sarah. "A harlot of vitae - she will -"
The end of my little Ruger that pressed against the bum's cheekbone shut him up. He became very still and then slowly took a step back with his hands out to his sides. I reached out to give him a shove in order to get more room between us. He wasn't big at all - kinda scrawny, actually - but it was like pushing a wall; the bum didn't budge. I wasn't sure how he did that.
Instead of trying to move him, I took a step back and reset my aim on his face. "Seriously, man, last warning," I said as I lowered the gun to point at his legs. I was ready to shoot. "Get the fuck out of here."
The bum backed away, still facing me. When he got to the low retaining wall at the back of the lot, he yelled, "Brave the shadows, boy! The Veleti comes - the Veleti!" And then he nimbly hopped the wall and ran off.
I turned to Sarah. "Did you call the cops?"
"No, you were here; I didn't doubt you could handle a vagrant with a bladder problem. I just called the company motor pool to bring us another car. I'm not touching that one again."
I couldn't blame her.
EAVESDROP
We didn't wait long at all before another black sedan pulled up. A guy in a black jacket with the Realm logo on it got out, pulled a bucket of cleaning supplies from the trunk, and then swapped keys with Sarah. She and I got in his car and took off. I'd never heard of the company before a few days back, and never noticed its uniformed employees around town, either. Delivery vans, company cars . . . It wouldn't have surprised me if Realm Management had its own planes, too.
Next to the skyscraper that Realm Management called home was a multi-story parking garage. Sarah pulled into it and took us to the lower level, which needed a card swipe to get past the heavy barricade and retracting tire spike strips. Holy shit, those people didn't fuck around. Down on the lower level were a handful of expensive cars, and at least half a dozen black sedans at the far end. Set into that far wall was a set of opaque sliding doors. It didn't look like an elevator, and I didn't see stairs anywhere, either.
Sarah parked near the other company sedans and we headed over to the doors. In the wall next to the doors were security devices; one was another card swipe, but I wasn't sure what the other one was until Sarah put her thumb on its small screen. The double doors hissed open, and we stepped into a long, wide hallway with soft overhead lighting and nothing else.
"I'm starting to get how serious your company is about security," I commented.
Sarah nodded as we walked down the hall. "That's why they don't hire retired beat cops or wannabe's with a gun permit. If you come on with Realm, they may have you take some computer and electronics classes. If you're not already a member of places for refresher courses - you know, gun practice, martial arts, that kind of thing - they'll have you sign up for those, too."
"I'm a member of a firing range, and I've been going to the same dojo for a long time. There's no problem with that, is there?"
"Nah, there shouldn't be," she said with a shrug. "Just tell them the places you go to practice so they can reimburse your fees. The company will pay for that."
"No shit?" The flippant question fell out of my mouth before I could stop it.
"No shit," Sarah replied with a grin.
Damn, the deal got sweeter as I went along. The long hallway ended at a T. Both ways went only about ten feet back, with an elevator at either end. Sarah chose the one on the left; I didn't know if it made any difference. On the long ride up to the 36th floor in the swanky elevator, Sarah stood close to me. Normally, I like my space, but her suggestive smile and nice ass had me not minding so much.
While we walked through the corridors, Sarah pointed out that most deliveries and visitors were dealt with one floor down; it was rare that any non-employee got to the 36th floo
r or above. She couldn't tell me what the floors above the 36th were used for; she'd never been allowed up there.
We stopped near the end of a rear corridor, in front of a plain door. She turned the handle and pushed it open. "Take a look," she said.
"Wait, why wasn't the door locked? Almost every other door up here is, except for the bathrooms."
"Oh, this one is open because Ms. Rondeau's employer wanted you to see your future office."
"Office . . . I'd get an office?" I leaned over and peered into the dark room.
"Sure you would," Sarah said, and then strolled into the room. She found a light switch, and two small lamps at either end of a desk came on. The room was deep, but not very wide. It did have a window that faced north, though. All that was in the office was the desk, lamps, and a leather chair. "I doubt you'd be in here much," she went on, "but it'd be a nice place to write your reports or do any online work. You might also get to know some of the stiff collars you could be guarding."
"Hey, just between us, who is Ms. Rondeau's employer?"
She gave me one of her coy smiles. "I couldn't tell you even if I knew."
Just then, the lights flickered - desk lamps, corridor lights, everything. We decided to head back down to the car. I needed to hit the head, and after I explained what that meant, Sarah decided that she needed to use the restroom as well. We found a pair that was side-by-side. I finished up quick, stepped out, and was about to meander around when I heard her voice through the door. She was talking to someone on the phone. I stepped closer and leaned in to listen. Don't judge - you would've, too.
". . . something about flowers and colors, and . . ." There was a pause. "Well, yes, but he was raving." Another pause, and then, "Alright, there was something about an ancient shadow, and then he called me a harlot. Can you believe that?" I could almost hear the voice from the phone because of the bathroom's echo. "Yes, I'm sorry," Sarah said quietly. "Yes, he did, but I didn't make much sense of it. Something like, 'the Velenti', or 'the Vilidi' . . . What? Yes, Veleti - that sounds right." There was one more pause before Sarah said, "I will. He's nice, but kind of intense. I'll show him the loft and . . . hello?"