by L. M. Vila
“So Kurtis, please tell me,” the General's voice became strikingly sharp and angered, “Why did you abandon your mission?!”
Kurtis was shocked the old man could get so riled up without injuring himself. “What are you talking about? I've done everything you've asked and more. Even with all of their toys, none of the children downstairs could do what I have already done.”
“Are you trying to insult my intelligence?” The General snapped. “I asked you to do one thing. Only one thing. You were responsible to clean up the bodies and retrieve any materials left behind should any accidents occur. Or have you forgotten that?”
A scoff left Kurtis' breath. Being subjected to such menial tasks was too bothersome. His enhanced abilities should be used for more worthwhile missions.
“So what?” He shot back, “Use someone else to clean houses. Why does it have to involve me?”
“It involves you because I ordered it so!” The General grew fierce. “I had you go there because it is only you that I trusted with such an important task.”
That statement took Kurtis by surprise. He had no idea those previous missions carried any special significance. Cleaning duty seemed so beneath him it was beyond insulting.
Yegor tried subduing his frustration. “You still don't understand our situation, do you? No one outside of these walls knows what we're working on. I can't just send anyone out there to take care of my business.” The General stood up and pointed his finger at Kurtis. “That is why you exist.”
The condescending tone of the General really got under Kurtis' skin despite the previous praise he received. Something he's rarely heard from that man.
“Now, there is a problem. I require your unique abilities,” stated the General. The scolding episode appeared to have passed. Kurtis tuned his mind away from the past and focused on this new mission.
“It appears the authorities are investigating another client's house. A sample has been found and is currently going under analysis,” said the General. Every detail was important. Kurtis must hear them all. “Fortunately, we covered most of our tracks. Worst case scenario, they will charge another pharmaceutical company unaffiliated with us. It will be messy and expensive, but there shouldn't be any permanent damage. The American's will be like a dog chasing its tail. So much energy wasted only to arrive back at the same spot.”
“Where do I fit into this equation?” Kurtis asked.
“Patience my master,” responded Roman.
“Do not worry Roman, we are getting to that,” The General replied. “An inside source has just told me some very troubling information. It seems someone of particular interest is involved in this case.”
“So?” Responded Kurtis. “What does it matter if it’s one man or fifty? So long as the job gets done.”
“Don't be hasty!” The General cracked more brutal than ever. “This man is not one to be taken lightly. He was responsible for the single-handed elimination of the most dangerous fugitives in this country in less than a year. We do not want to incite his wrath.”
Now things got interesting. Kurtis was making sure to pay particular attention from this point on.
“Fortunately, he’s been silent ever since. His intelligence is of our greatest concern. Every minute he spends on this investigation draws him closer to us. So, we'll need to cut the wick quickly so that the fire will not reach the dynamite.” The General briefly paused. “Do I have your attention now?”
Roman hasn't seen Kurtis grin like this in quite some time. Clearly the boy was happy with this assignment.
“So then,” Kurtis sneered. “What are we waiting for?”
Yegor eagerly reached into the sole drawer and pulled out some documents he prepared for this situation. “Here,” The General said tossing the papers forward. They slid right into Kurtis' hands. “It’s possible they'll reach that building sometime this afternoon. The area is mostly deserted. You should have no problem eliminating the target.”
The papers started telling a story that Kurtis didn't care to read. “You mean I am to snipe this man from afar? Like a coward?” He cursed; the papers nearly turned to dust in his hands. “Do you think stories of this man's accomplishments are more frightening than I am?”
Foolishness was the first word that came to mind. The worst thing you can do is underestimate your opponent. Even a cornered rat can be deadly against a house full of cats.
“Do as you're told. This is a direct order.”
That familiar remark signaled this conversation was over. Kurtis opened up the nearly destroyed papers and looked down on the first page. A photograph peered back at him. The target's cold brown eyes seemed to stare directly into Kurtis' soul. This picture only spoke one word to him.
Death.
“Kill him. Is that all?” Kurtis was ready to leave.
Yegor cusped his lips almost forming a smile. “Well, there is one more thing.”
More bad news. Kurtis' patience wore thin. “Out with it.”
The anger building in Kurtis was enough to flatten a mountain. At first, he was belittled by the fact that his new target should be feared. Now he’s being toyed around by a man wanted to snap in half.
“Since you've had trouble remaining focused, I've hired a partner to assist you.”
Kurtis reached the breaking point. He was willing to test the notion that there existed an opponent out there worthy of his challenge. However, being told he needed help crossed the line. If Yegor had a death wish, those words sealed his fate.
“Be calm young one,” pleaded Roman. The General must have a rational reason for this decision. At least, he hoped.
“Stand down Kurtis,” Yegor ordered. “This one has a special relationship with our target. She'll be more than helpful in completing this mission.”
One word. All it took was one word to send Kurtis' mind into a rampage. His emotions silenced rational thoughts. Sounds began to slip through his throat. Venom dripped from every syllable.
“What do you mean she?”
The General wasn't excited with his subordinate’s reaction but it drew no major concerns. Fixing this problem was the only thing that mattered. Yegor picked up the phone and dialed the squad leader downstairs. He made sure to switch back to English so he would not be misunderstood. The General hated repeating himself.
“Captain Gale. When Seika arrives, please show her the way to my office.” He hung up the phone and looked directly into the eyes of Kurtis. They peered back at him with deadly aggression. Clearly, Kurtis disagreed with his employer's rationale. She'll have to put on the performance of her life to change his mind.
Grey clouds surrounded the long sky of Los Angeles. Things never changed in this city. As Michael approached headquarters he noticed a particularly warm feeling cutting through the air. A sign that spring would soon arrive.
Entering the building proved simple enough. Security was never an issue for the renowned Michael Madison. His unique reputation carried all the way to the FBI headquarters in Washington D.C. People always talked when he was around even though there haven't been any high profile cases since. Michael hoped this would quash the gossip but it only seemed to fuel it in some respects. Everyone was curious to see what amazing feat he would pull off next.
Michael rarely shared pleasantries with anyone. As he walked to his office, veering between the cubicles of his colleagues, any of those that chose to greet him were met with nothing more than a nod. The trip was brief and forgettable. At his desk, a stocky figured agent approached Michael. His short blonde hair was almost as distinctive as his gossipy nature and horrendous cologne odor. This man made a point to always greet Michael in the morning. Something he took pride in. After all, Michael is a living legend.
“Hey Mike, what's the good word?” He asked. A cup of steaming hot coffee touched his lips as he awaited Michael's response.
“Steve.” The words came out cold but soft. His voice was rougher than most people were used to hearing. Most found it intimidating. Main
ly in the interrogation room.
“You're still working that funky poison case today?” He replied. Steve Wilkins is a desk man; a data analyst. He lived through the stories of others. The closest thing he got to excitement is when he received phone calls from agents with the words 'pronto' or 'now' filtered in. All he could do was offer his support from behind the scene, though his humor and satire were mostly appreciated.
“Where are the autopsy reports?” Michael responded. He pulled out the chair by his desk and booted his computer, seemingly ignoring that Steve was even in the room or trying to joke about the case at hand.
The response flustered Steve a bit but he was used to it. Michael always talked business if he said anything at all. “Izzy is working the rounds right now. I'm sure she has what you're looking for.”
The woman he referred to was an intern, Isabella Rios. Although young, her educational background speaks for itself. There weren't many people with graduate degrees from Colombia University willing to settle for just an internship while deciding on an appropriate career path. That garnered a lot of respect from her colleagues. Isabella was very eager to please everyone and not as curt and mundane as some of her colleagues. Steve always had fond memories of her. She was very helpful and, not to mention, had a smoking hot body.
Michael snapped him back into reality as soon as he said “Thanks.” With his computer online, he began collecting data for the case which was Steve's cue to exit. He gingerly walked away sipping his coffee. Knowing that he had the guts to hold a conversation with Michael was more than enough of a confidence boost to get him through his otherwise dull day.
Keys beat rapidly at Michael’s desk. He was almost as much of a machine as the computer. In his email inbox, the first message listed names of the deceased in today's case. He pulled up every piece of relevant information: medical history, previous employers, and birth data. Nothing could be overlooked. Michael needed find every pattern available that linked the victims to each other. Reading through all of the information was a delicate process. Missing a single detail could cost him time and, worst case scenario, innocent lives. A price no one could afford to pay.
The phone rang harmlessly, breaking the cold and somewhat lifeless feel of the office. Before it could ring a second time, Michael answered and spoke, “Agent Madison.”
“Michael,” the voice started on the other end. Very gentle, yet stern. The conversations they shared were straight forward with minimal pleasantries. Something they both appreciated. “Have you collected all of the information?”
“Not yet.”
“When will you be leaving?”
“Soon. Once I get the autopsy reports. About thirty minutes.”
“Commander McCrae wants to speak with you. I'll call you when he's ready.”
“Yes ma'am.”
They both hung up the phone simultaneously. The Assistant Director normally had nothing but good things to discuss with Michael. Joshua McCrae was very understanding when he first started, especially during the AWOL episode. Michael always appreciated the Commander's assistance.
Past memories aside, he kept working. The day had barely begun and he already felt like he had seen too much of it wasted. A typical lament for a workaholic.
Taps beat rhythmically against Joshua McCrae’s door. Protocol dictated that he kept his office shut at all times even though he never agreed with the policy. His superior said it was to keep the atmosphere professional. McCrae was hoping to change that policy someday.
“Come on in.”
The door opened. He wasn’t up to anything special. Just admiring a photograph of his son hanging on the wall. McCrae’s love for his family could not be rivaled. Even after parting with them merely an hour ago they still linger in his thoughts.
A woman walked in. Her long black hair shined brightly and complimented her brown eyes and tanned skin. She had become a favorite of McCrae’s as of late. Someone who shared his enthusiasm for living a good life and keeping spirits high. Like his personal sidekick in merriment. The fact that she worked in the laboratory it didn’t mean she had to be a stick in the mud like some of her companions. That’s what he liked most of all. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop her from being professional.
“Excuse me, Commander McCrae.”
“No need to be so formal Isabella. What can I do for you?”
Despite the formality surrounding his position, Joshua was a man of simple tastes. He even requested all of his subordinates refer to him as Commander in lieu of Assistant Director simply out of convenience. That and his son loved refer to his father with such high regarding title.
“I apologize for interrupting you sir.”
“Not at all. I was just admiring a picture. My son and I took this one a few weeks ago. He just started little league.” Grinning was inevitable. Nothing made him happier then talking about his six year old child. “Sluger’s got cannon for an arm. I swear, if he keeps it up, the Major Leagues will be fighting tooth and nail to sign him.”
Isabella Rios smiled politely. The McCrae family was one of a kind. On her first day she was invited over for dinner to meet this acclaimed bunch. They truly were the epitome of happiness. McCrae is a lucky man.
Drifting thoughts aside, business needed to be conducted. Isabella carried a clipboard in one arm and a manila envelope in the other. McCrae noticed them immediately. It must be that time again.
“I’m collecting donations for the birthday gift for tomorrow.”
“Ah yes, we could definitely use a morale booster around here.” Although they were agents in one of the most respected organizations in the world, they were first and foremost human beings. Everyone needed a break once and a while. Some more than others.
“And whose lucky day will we be celebrating?”
She paused. Isabella seemed a bit flustered. Her face was starting to glow pink in color. “It’s, um.” The stuttering almost gave it away. Definitely someone special. “Agent Michael Madison, sir.”
“Mike’s birthday is tomorrow?” McCrae’s astonishment seeped out of every decibel. Every year Michael found some way to avoid coming into work on that day. This year there was no way he could get away.
“Excellent work Isabella,” said McCrae as he reached for his wallet. He pulled out a pair of twenty dollar bills and passed them over. “Here, let’s make sure to get him something nice. You know, make up for all of the other years.”
“Thank you sir, but.” She cut herself off seemingly lost in thought.
“Is there a problem?”
“Well,” Isabella wasn’t sure how to proceed. She tried anyways. “I’m not sure what to get for him. No one else I spoke with had any good ideas either.”
“That is a problem.” McCrae dug into his stored knowledge. After a few moments, he felt just as puzzled has his companion. For all of the time Michael spent in this office, no one knew much about him. He was the kind of guy that kept to himself. Always.
“Well, I’m stumped. Mike’s a workaholic but I’m sure office supplies wouldn’t be a great gift.” Joking didn’t help. The Assistant Director was stumped. “Keep trying. Maybe someone knows something we don’t.”
“Will do sir.” Isabella nodded and was on her way out when an epiphany struck.
“Oh wait! I’ve got it.” It was right before his eyes. He had prepared for this day weeks ago. Such a silly thing to forget in hindsight. “We've got a new agent starting today. One of Mike’s old colleagues at the L.A.P.D. If there's anyone to ask, it would be her.”
Her? Isabella was caught off guard. This was a disturbing turn of events. The only thing she could do was smile and say, “Excellent.”
Sadly, Isabella didn't feel that motivated to speak with her. Hopefully someone would have the answer she sought before it came down to that.
“Great, thanks for stopping by.”
Once again, McCrae’s train of thought had shifted gears. Isabella walked out of the office and shut the door. Her heart pounded q
uicker than normal. The thought of this mystery woman was going to infect her mind for the foreseeable future. It could only seek to complicate matters down the line.
The day hadn't started yet and nervousness already corrupted Meryl's body. This place was way more formal than her tenure as an L.A.P.D .officer. She had to keep reminding herself that she survived the training, passed the exams, and was more than qualified for this job. Sadly, Meryl wished she took more marketing classes in school because she still couldn't sell herself that idea.
There shouldn't be much to worry about. Today was going to be an initiation day. Maybe like a meet and greet. She'd be shown around the building, given the welcome packet, maybe even assigned a desk. Nothing to be worried about.
Meryl kicked herself for not taking those classes.
As she entered the building security promptly greeted her. They would dance back in forth about being the new probationary agent. She'd show ID, they would call and check. After about twenty minutes or so, someone would come through those doors and escort her inside.
Security took her name and information. The man behind the desk checked through some paperwork. Near the top of his list he saw a message pertaining to her arrival. The security officer called the number immediately. He was greeted with a short and direct message.
“Someone will arrive to pick Agent Lewis up shortly. Please make her feel comfortable until then.”
He hung up the phone and said with a smile, “Please have a seat Agent Lewis. You will be escorted inside in a moment.” The security officer pointed her in the direction of one of their waiting chairs and Meryl had no problems taking a seat. Anything to relieve the anxiety that had already established a strong foundation. Funny thing was, the more she thought about it, the less it was about the job.
Meryl still tried to figure out what she was going to say when she saw Michael.
It's silly really. They were best friends in the academy and well into their careers as police officers. Michael was such a carefree and fun loving guy. The man she saw over a year ago was nothing like that. However, tragedy can change even the strongest of wills. Although distraught that their friendship had seemed to end, Meryl didn't let it get to her. He was probably wrapped up in work and it was her first day so they'll probably be on opposite sides of the building. Maybe she wouldn't even see him at all today.