“Yes, but—” began Jaspa.
Bisaria talked over her. “Still, given the nature of clandestine operations, it would be difficult to judge the actions of Director Saklas without the benefit of hindsight.”
It was strange for me to hear the Operator referred to by name. I don’t think I had ever heard it before that day.
Director Melikar frowned. “It’s clear to me that there are different perspectives here, and that we won’t be able to resolve our differences on the matter without further discussion. Agent Barrett, thank you for your cooperation with this inquiry.”
That struck me as more than a little perfunctory. My choices were to comply or be executed. “Thank you,” I said.
Epilogue
When you don’t have anything to do, there are two primordial options. You can sit still and kill time until the sloth drives you crazy, then do something self-destructive to make yourself feel more alive again. Or you can just go to bed early.
I like a drink as much as anyone, but after a few days of doing nothing all day and then getting drunk alone at night, I was starting to find the first option even more boring than the second. I started going to bed earlier and trying to stay asleep as long as I could manage.
My daily life had up to this point been one of constant crisis, so sitting in my house in Antwerp and doing nothing was not so easy. When my dataspike chimed with a notification of a perimeter breach at two in the morning, I felt a little grateful. The prospect of someone breaking into my home meant that things were, in some small way, getting back to normal.
My eyes were wide open, staring up at the ceiling as I listened. My dataspike displayed a map of my property, with a blinking dot to indicate the intruder.
I sat up, then got dressed quickly in sweatpants and a T-shirt. This might seem a little bit like a waste of time, but I knew exactly how close the intruder was, and I was trying to be mindful about the psychological factors.
To put it simply, it’s much easier to confront a potential killer when you’re already dressed, and much harder when you’re not. Since I had the time, I wanted to go into this fight wearing more than a smile.
I stepped into a pair of slippers, then picked up the Keres 8 from the nightstand. I thought about it for a second and decided against grabbing a hand grenade. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I wasn’t as eager to use explosives in my own house.
I did need some kind of backup weapon though. I walked over to my closet, which held a selection of various weapons and few articles of clothing. I wasn’t a knife expert like Vincenzo Veraldi, but it seemed like a good choice for close-quarters work. I slipped the knife into my waistband and went out to confront the intruder.
It had been a few weeks since the debriefing, and the solar system was still drifting toward war. The politicians were taking it slower than I would have expected, though, which gave me at least a little hope that they wouldn’t do anything too stupid.
I hadn’t heard from Raven since we went our separate ways that day in Bruges. Not a word from Veraldi either, or Thomas or Andrew. Section 9 had been effectively disbanded pending review from the Senior Directorate, and they didn’t seem to be in any rush to complete the process.
The way things had been, I could easily have spent the rest of my life in Antwerp. Eventually I would have stopped hanging around my house and picked some seedy little hotel bar to do my drinking in. I would have lived out the rest of my years sipping gin and tonics, and occasionally making vague comments that gave the impression I was a retired spy slowly drinking his life away.
There’s something to be said for being a local character.
I wasn’t quite ready for it yet though. As I slipped through my house and out the back door, I felt more alive than I had felt in the days since Belgium.
The intruder was moving slowly. They seemed to expect my yard to be filled with traps. A motion detector guiding an automated machine gun or maybe my own personal minefield. I didn’t have anything like that. The only defensive tool I had was the perimeter alert, and it was all I needed.
I walked around to the front of the property, moving from cover to cover so the intruder wouldn’t spot me. Of course, if they had a backscatter scan, they’d see me moving on their screen, and that seemed to be the case because they moved when I moved.
I was behind a garden statue, peering out into my darkened yard. The intruder was crouching down behind a wheelbarrow. It’s not that I garden, but I do occasionally toy with the idea of taking up gardening.
“Come out from behind that wheelbarrow,” I called out, “or I’m opening fire. We can do this either way.”
There was nothing but silence for a few seconds, followed by a quiet laugh. “I should have known I’d never sneak up on you.”
It had been so long since I’d heard her voice. “Andrea?”
She stepped out from behind the wheelbarrow with her gun lowered. “It’s really me, Tycho. I’m a little surprised you don’t have any traps.”
I stepped out as well. “I don’t recall seeing any at your home in France.”
“I had a secret underground tunnel.”
“Fair enough. So, what’s going on?”
“Let’s go inside the house. I don’t want your neighbors to hear this.”
We went inside, and I poured us each a single malt Scotch. She only took a sip, then gave me a searching look. “You should grab your go-bag. We’ll need to be on the road in eight minutes.”
I gave her a searching look as well, trying to figure out what she was really up to. After all, she had disappeared right when we needed her the most. Then I turned around and went back to my room. I went straight to my closet and put my go-bag over my shoulder. Whatever she was up to, it had to be a better use of time than drinking at home.
I came back to the kitchen and found her leaning against the counter, sipping her whisky thoughtfully.
“You look like you want to tell me something,” I noted.
She nodded. “I do. I just don’t know how you’ll take it.”
“You know me, Andrea. I’m flexible.”
She gave this some thought, then turned around and put her glass down on the counter. “I killed the Operator.”
I stared at her silently, knowing that whatever happened, it meant that everything was going to change.
“Okay,” I nodded. “What do you need?”
* * *
For more updates on this series, be sure to join the Facebook Group, “J.N. Chaney’s Renegade Readers.”
Join the conversation and get updates on new and upcoming releases in the awesomely active Facebook group, “JN Chaney’s Renegade Readers.”
This is a hotspot where readers come together and share their lives and interests, discuss the series, and speak directly to J.N. Chaney and his co-authors.
Join the Facebook Group
Don’t miss out on these exclusive perks:
Instant access to free short stories from series like The Messenger, Starcaster, and more.
Receive email updates for new releases and other news.
Get notified when we run special deals on books and audiobooks.
So, what are you waiting for? Enter your email address at the link below to stay in the loop.
Click Here
About J.N. Chaney
J. N. Chaney is a USA Today Bestselling author and has a Master's of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. He fancies himself quite the Super Mario Bros. fan. When he isn’t writing or gaming, you can find him online at www.jnchaney.com.
He migrates often, but was last seen in Las Vegas, NV. Any sightings should be reported, as they are rare.
filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
Sol Arbiter Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 115