A Dark Place

by Keith Yocum

  He was startled when she emerged a few minutes later carrying a small grocery bag, walking quickly to her car. The sun was bright and uncharacteristically warm on the February morning.

  Louise walked up to her driver’s side door at the same moment Dennis came from behind her. The Audi beeped as Louise hit the key fob, but she stopped as she reached for the door handle and whipped around to see Dennis. He was shocked at how well honed her street craft skills were.

  “Jesus Christ,” she said. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Dennis pulled his right hand out of his coat pocket and briefly displayed a pistol.

  “Really? Are you serious, Cunningham?”

  “Get in the back seat,” he said. “Don’t screw around, Louise. I’m pretty crazy right now, and you don’t want to test me.”

  She closed her eyes to compose herself, sighed and opened them again to stare at Dennis. He was thankful for the sunglasses, because her eyes were painfully blue and focused on the middle of his forehead.

  “Get in, Louise. Please don’t do anything stupid. I just have a couple of questions to ask. Then I’m gone. You’ll never see me again.”

  “I’ll never see you again because you’ll be in prison or dead.”

  “Get in.”

  She sneered with a twist of her small mouth and opened the back door. As she slid in, Dennis slid in behind her and shut the door.

  Louise refused to look at him; she stared coldly at the back of headrest in front of her, the small grocery bag on her lap.

  “How did you figure out that Arnold was in Moscow?” he said. “I never told you that.”

  She continued to stare and did not speak.

  “At first I figured you for someone so desperate for advancement and glory that you’d steal someone else’s work and claim it for your own. But something’s wrong with that narrative, though it’s taken me a long time to figure it out.”

  “Go figure this out,” she said, raising the middle finger of her right hand.

  Dennis ripped off his sunglasses and the wool cap.

  “Look at me, Louise,” he said. “Look. You think my skin looks a little strange?”

  Louise turned and looked, then turned away again.

  “I’m jaundiced, Louise. Yeah, my liver is dying, thanks to the London infection. I’m on a donor list. I’m depressed and angry and feeling reckless right now. If I shot you, I’d just shoot myself and that would be the end of it.”

  She turned and stared at his face for a long time.

  “What do you want, Cunningham? I mean, what can I possibly tell you? Unstable men with guns really, really bother me.”

  “You lied every step of the way. I just didn’t figure it out until recently.”

  “You are crazy. You should see someone in employee assistance.”

  “Goddamnit, Louise, I’ll show you crazy!” Dennis pulled the pistol out and pointed it at her forehead.

  “Stop it!” she yelled.

  He thrust the gun back into the coat pocket, took a quick glance around the nearby cars and put his sunglasses back on.

  “Again,” he said, regaining his breath, “how did you know Arnold was in Moscow?”

  “I always knew he was in Moscow.”

  “No, you didn’t; I never told you.”

  “You told Judy, and she told me.”

  “She may have told you, but I think you knew all along.”

  “So what if we knew?”

  “Quit screwing around, Louise. How much did you know?”

  Louise readjusted the grocery bag in her lap, and the crinkling of thick paper was the only sound in the cold car. A thin white stream of condensation shot forward when she exhaled.

  “Arnold was caught in a honey trap, and he alerted the London station. It was decided he should go along and get trapped to see what the Russians wanted. The Russians still think homosexuality is a criminal offense or something. We, as you know, don’t give a shit.”

  Dennis stared at the left side of Louise’s pale face.

  “More,” he said.

  “So Arnold finds out his handlers want him to place eavesdropping devices at Menwith Hill. Some newfangled network using power outlets.”

  “The NSA would never go along with that,” Dennis said.

  Louise turned toward Dennis.

  “You’ve got me for five minutes, Cunningham. You want me to continue, or are you going burn your five minutes with commentary?

  “Go.”

  “As you noted, the NSA would never go along with it, so the agency decides not to tell them.”

  “Mmm,” Dennis said.

  “Arnold was trained to install the tiny devices — there were several he put throughout the building — but we altered the Russian equipment to send along some bogus data.”

  “Presumably along with real data being scooped from NSA,” Dennis said.

  “The NSA has terabytes on terabytes of data they never look at. Don’t worry about those idiots.”

  “Why the bogus data?”

  “You’re not authorized to know that.”

  “Goddamnit, Louise! I swear to God I’ll blow your brains out if you try that shit with me one more time.”

  For the first time, Dennis noticed Louise’s mouth twitch into a small circle, and her eyes grow smaller. She was finally nervous.

  “We decided to take out a senior member of the FSB’s cyber warfare unit. Guy named Vasiliev. Total maniac; we think he’s bipolar. But brilliant. Caused us a lot of trouble. So we took a gamble. Fed bogus information into their eavesdropping network to make it look like Vasiliev was an MI6 mole.”

  “Why the hell would the IG send me and Freddie back to look for Arnold, if operations knew all along where he was?”

  “First, the IG doesn’t know shit. And secondly, that asshole Barkley got wind of the whole thing, or part of the thing, and decided to force the IG to use the unstable asshole sitting next to me right now to bust it open. Somehow he thought you were rogue enough to figure it out, and if you surfaced it, he didn’t have to leak it to the press. But all you did was completely screw it up by tracking down Arnold’s Ukrainian handler and confronting him. We don’t know how you and your pal sniffed out the Ukrainian. We think it’s an NSA leak, and when we find the bastard we’ll fry him.”

  “Pavlychko was Arnold’s handler,” Dennis said. “He freaked out when we showed up at his door, and given the importance of the Menwith Hill project, he poisoned Freddie to stop us.”

  “He was actually ordered to kill the both of you as fast as possible.”

  “Wouldn’t it have been nice of you to let Freddie and I know we were on someone’s hit list?”

  “By the time the order was decoded, Freddie was poisoned. You were supposed to be with him that night as well. Too bad you missed out on your dose of the polonium. A couple of us thought it was a real tragedy you didn’t join your friend that night.”

  “Now look who’s the asshole,” he said. “Freddie was a good man.”

  “A lot of good men and women don’t make it. And for the record, your five minutes are up.” She reached for the door handle.

  “Please don’t open that door, Louise,” he said, his voice cracking. “Please. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Again, he noticed her mouth constrict into a small circle and her eyes tighten at the corners. She sat back and stared sullenly at the headrest.

  “Soon I’m going to call your bluff, and you’re going to either shoot me or not shoot me,” she said. “Talk quick, because I’m about to get out of the car.”

  “You were a goddamn mole for operations working against the OIG. Finally figured it out this week.”

  “Oh, grow up, Cunningham.”

  “If you folks didn’t want me to bust open the Arnold case, why the hell did you send
me back with time running out?”

  “Wasn’t my idea. Someone thought that Barkley would finally let up if you came back empty.”

  “And the part about you getting Judy out of that basement?”

  “That was not authorized. For the record, I got a very fucking big demerit for that one. But what can I say? It happened. I took out some real, low-level scum and saved your girlfriend. Maybe you’d thank me for that instead of flipping out in a parking lot in a Virginia suburb. I was told you’re always thirty seconds from losing it, and now I’m seeing the dark side up close and personal.”

  “Last question: I know I’m wrong about this, but I have to ask. I heard from a contact in MI5 that Judy traveled to Moscow for two days when I was in the hospital. Any truth to that? Doesn’t sound like Judy, but it does sound like you.”

  “Nope, not me. Don’t know anything about that. Can’t be true.”

  Dennis had been enraged when Ian broached it and refused to believe it. Surely Judy would have told him afterward. Sending a defenseless woman into the lion’s den of Russian espionage was something even Louise was not capable of.

  But the more he thought about it, the more uncertain he became. His paranoia and rattled brain would not let it rest. The only certainty he could muster was that Louise was very much like him —capable of doing anything in pursuit of a mission she believed in.

  “You sent her to Moscow.”

  “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “She told me,” he lied.

  “I don’t think so. She must be confused. You know what kind of condition she was in after the abduction. And then your illness threw her for a loop. Nothing against that woman, but she was compromised by a lot of trauma.”

  “She taped your conversation.”

  Louise flicked her head toward Dennis and then returned to face the armrest. The bag crinkled in her lap as she grasped it. A thick vapor stream accompanied a sigh.

  “You’re lying.”

  Dennis said nothing and waited. It didn’t take long.

  “We needed to get Arnold out as soon as the FSB arrested Vasiliev,” Louise said. “The extraction protocol was very old-school. Arnold was to visit a particular coffee shop nearly every day. One day, someone would look at him with a very distinctive pair of eyeglasses that Arnold had memorized. The messenger would press the bridge of the glasses with their forefinger. At that point Arnold was to say something to the messenger. If the messenger said anything about ordering a black coffee, that was the order for him to get out immediately. He was in Poland twenty-four hours later and is back in the US as we speak.”

  Dennis tried to calm himself, but he could feel the anger turning his cheeks red and felt his palm sweat around the handle of the pistol.

  “You sent that poor woman on a dangerous mission like that? Out of the blue? Did she know what she was doing?”

  “No, she would never have gone if she knew she was just a messenger. She thought she was photographing him and returning with evidence he was alive. So you wouldn’t try to do it yourself.”

  “Louise, she could have been arrested!”

  “She wasn’t, so stop worrying.”

  “But you didn’t give a shit about how fragile she was. Didn’t any of you people think about that?”

  “We use the tools we have at hand, Cunningham. Someone suggested that she would be the perfect messenger, since she had no idea she was a messenger. So we took a gamble. She was perfect. It worked. End of story.”

  “I bet you suggested they use Judy,” Dennis said.

  Louise shrugged and reached for the door handle.

  “Hey!” Dennis said, reaching for her left arm.

  “Fuck off,” she said as the door flew open.

  She turned to see Dennis pointing the pistol at her forehead.

  He pulled the trigger without a hint of reflection or concern about the consequences.

  ✦

  Judy tried to cool down, but the workout was more strenuous than she had anticipated. Even after a shower, she was still perspiring slightly as she sat in the lounge area of the health club in Perth’s Kings Park drinking sparkling water with a slice of lemon.

  “My heavens, your arms look sculpted, Jude,” her friend Cilla said, sitting across from her. “You’re embarrassing all your friends with your workout routine. Have mercy on us.”

  Judy laughed and looked out the huge windows of the health club onto the tennis courts. It was 10:00 a.m., but the summer heat of February was building to a boil already, and Judy was looking to relax on this Sunday morning. Her son Trevor was at City Beach with some friends.

  “So you’re going to see your new flame again tonight?”

  “Yes, he’s quite charming,” Judy said. “I’m new at this dating game.”

  “He’s divorced?”

  “Two children; amicable, as he describes it.”

  “I gather he’s quite handsome,” Cilla said. “Does he have another divorced handsome friend who’s looking for companionship?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Cilla. You’ve been happily married for fourteen years. Stop it.”

  “Just mucking around. A woman can muck around, you know.”

  Judy laughed and took a long sip of water. She looked outside at a spirited doubles match. “I don’t like tennis. Did I tell you that? Seems so boring.”

  “Can I help you?” Cilla said.

  Judy turned to look at Cilla, who was staring at someone standing behind Judy. She twisted around to see a gaunt but smiling man.

  “I was hoping to say hello to Judy,” Dennis said.

  Cilla shot Judy a glance then looked up at Dennis, then back to Judy.

  “Um, I gather you’re Dennis,” Cilla said. “Judy doesn’t have many Yank friends.”

  Dennis came around from behind Judy and shook Cilla’s hand.

  “Glad to meet you.”

  “What are you doing here?” Judy asked.

  “Gee, everybody says that to me. Do I surprise people that much?”

  “Really, Dennis,” she said. “What are you doing here?” She shook her head and looked at the tiny effervescent bubbles bursting from the mouth of her glass.

  “Nice to meet you, Dennis,” Cilla said, standing. “Call me later, Judy?”

  Judy nodded.

  “Can I sit?” Dennis asked.

  Judy shrugged.

  “I’ll take that for a yes. You look great.”

  “What are you doing here?” she said, this time with a touch of exasperation. “Can’t you leave me alone?”

  “I found an apartment here in the city. Charming place.”

  “Oh, lord,” she said, sitting upright. “You can’t be serious. That’s stalking, Dennis. You can’t stalk me. I won’t stand for it.”

  “I’m not stalking. Who said I’m stalking? I told you I’d move to Perth. So here I am. I moved to Perth. Now it’s your turn. You want me to stay, I stay. You want me to go, I go.”

  Judy looked at the floor, closed her eyes and slowly shook her head back and forth.

  “You look great,” Dennis said again.

  “Stop it.”

  “Well, if I’ve come this far, sold my condo and put all my belongings in storage back in the States, you could at least tell me what you want me to do.”

  “Go away.”

  “Well, that’s a bummer,” he said. “I was kind of hoping you’d be glad to see me.”

  “I am glad to see you. And I’d be just as glad not to see you. You confuse me, Dennis. And I can’t be around a man who confuses me so much. And you seem to attract trouble. I can’t take any more trouble in my life. I’ve pieced my simple life together again in sleepy little old Perth. I have a life again. I’m dating a nice man. My son seems normal. Things are returning to normal. Nothing about you is normal. I can’t do it,
Dennis.”

  “Mmm. Another man. It was only a matter of time. I’m not surprised. Is he interesting?”

  “Yes. Very.”

  “Is he funny like me?”

  “Oh, stop it. And by the way, you’re not funny. Cynical, snarling, suspicious and even paranoid sometimes. But not funny.”

  “Sometimes maybe?” he laughed.

  “Okay. You are funny sometimes. But not often.”

  “See, I have some redeeming qualities.”

  She sighed. “Enough. I have to leave now. I’m not going to let you trick me into liking you.”

  “But I thought you liked me?”

  “Of course I like you. I mean…whatever. I must go.” She stood up, but Dennis remained seated.

  “Thank you for going to Moscow. I’m ashamed that Louise tricked you into doing their dirty work.”

  Judy sat down. “She told you?”

  “Actually, someone else did. Then I confronted her. She came clean. Admitted how she manipulated you into being a deliveryman for the CIA.”

  Judy winced. “I was photographing Arnold. She gave me special glasses, and I returned them to her. I did it so you wouldn’t go. I knew you’d be angry. I thought maybe I could get you off your crazy mission to prove this man Arnold was in Moscow. But you disabused me of that soon enough. I tried, but you won’t let things go.”

  “Louise lied to you.”

  “I found Arnold, just as she predicted, and photographed him.”

  “You didn’t photograph him. You delivered a message from the Operations Directorate of the Central Intelligence Agency to an American double agent. The glasses were just glasses.”

  “But I returned them. She met me at Heathrow.”

  “She probably threw them in the trash as soon as you walked away.”

  “See, this is what I’m saying, Dennis. Damnit. I don’t know what to believe! Are you saying she tricked me? Louise? I don’t believe it!”

  “Welcome to my world,” he said, running his hand through his bristly hair. “I just knew something was wrong from the very beginning of this stupid Arnold case. Losing Freddie to those Russians was bad enough. But when I heard that Louise had tricked you into going to Moscow, I just flipped out. Lost it completely. I feel bad for what I did to her, but she deserved it.”