by Jack Gardner
The first thought to cross Eddie’s mind was that while the morning had started in a somewhat academic atmosphere, it was going to become very ugly before noon. Apparently, he thought, the committee assigned to examine the events of the failed operation did not waste any time and already published its conclusion. And apparently, his imminent beheading was one of those conclusions. He felt sick to his stomach. He was probably about to be the victim of an event in whose failure he had no part. Moreover, it seemed that all of his past successes were erased. He knew that it would be wrong to expect objective justice, but, on the other hand, such extreme injustice as that which was about to be bestowed upon him would have outraged even a man who accepted the principle of never criticizing the system.
Since the order did not leave any room for flexibility and the clock’s arms were racing on, Eddie had no time to dwell on these sad thoughts and agonize in self isolation, as usually happens in these cases. He bid farewell to Nicole, whose expression did not seem very pessimistic—which he interpreted as her lack of understanding of the gravity of his situation—and thought to himself that this must be the last time he would see her in these offices.
A person dismissed from the Bureau is required to immediately sever all ties with Bureau activities, personnel, and facilities. These were the procedures and they were kept. In the course of the dismissal, the person involved lost his or her security clearance, which promised that he or she would never set foot again in places where they felt at home for years.
He left the small street and drove onto the highway, not forgetting, even in this kind of moment, to check the traffic behind him in the rearview mirror. He had a photographic memory, and he could remember the license plate numbers of cars driving behind him. It was highly unlikely that anyone would follow him, not in this new position, which was not operational, but this habit has become a second nature to him. Five minutes later, after he cut through lanes twice and did not notice anything unusual, he was calm and tried to think about what he would do tomorrow morning. He hadn’t the shadow of a doubt. ‘You’re like a blind man looking for his way in the dark,’ he mocked himself in his mind, and then stopped torturing himself as he noticed the road leading to the Bureau’s headquarters a few hundred feet away.
As he pulled over to show his ID at the gate, he thought, and then realized it was nonsense, that the guard, a man he barely knew, gave him a pitiful look. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he already knows,’ though Eddie to himself, and felt nauseous once again. But whether he knew or not, the guard welcomed him politely and opened the heavy gate, which was heavy enough to stop a tank. Eddie drove on in the road that was so familiar to him and parked his car in the visitor parking lot. He smiled to himself bitterly once he noticed that without noting it, he parked his car facing out. ‘As of tomorrow, you won’t need all these skills,’ the sarcastic part of his brain noted. Another gate and another guard, again the security control that seems normal and the look, that he once again read as a kind of sympathy. ‘It would be impossible to assume that rumors circulate here, too, like everywhere else,’ he thought to himself. Then he passed the security control at the entrance lobby, leaving his personal belongings in a locker and received accompaniment on his way up to L’s office on the second floor.
As he and his accompanying man walked down the long hallway, his operational mind that was incapable of resting for a minute created a full sequence of a takeover he could have staged right then and there, if only he wanted to. His accompaniment was a twenty-five-year-old guard from the Bureau’s security team, which is considered to be a top of the line unit. He was of average height and solid build, the fruit of intensive labor at the gym. His gun was placed with its handle pointing to the left, which revealed that he was left handed, but for some reason, and without any operational rationale, he walked to Eddie’s right.
Under normal circumstances, Eddie would have reported this kind of behavior to his supervisors, so that they could refresh procedures. Such professional organizations could not allow themselves these kinds of mistakes. But Eddie no longer saw any point in doing so. ‘It’s no longer your game,’ he thought to himself, ‘and in any case, your loyalty will now be accepted with scorn. They’ll take your word with fake politeness and then joke amongst themselves as soon as you leave the room. The renowned operations field man, where was he when the entire operation was ruined right besides him…let him keep his own advice! He’ll need it in his boring civil life.’
***
When his accompaniment let him in to L’s office, Eddie attentively examined the face of L’s secretary. Judy was famous in the Bureau. She was trained as an intelligence officer, and rumor has it that she finished first in her year. It was also said that her organizational skills were so good that L should be eternally grateful for the fact that she was at his service.
She was one of the only employees who could design their promotion at the Bureau according to their own will, but she refused to leave L out of faith that by being by his side, she assists the entire operational arm, making her contribution concrete. Sarcastic gossip, even though it wasn’t really mean, hinted that L confides all important things to her and that her advice carries significant weight with him. Eddie looked for a hint or a proof that his fate was sealed in her face, but all he saw was her masterfully carved features and wonderful green eyes that looked straight at him, not revealing a thing. She rose behind her desk, her perfect figure stretching over 5’10” of gorgeous femininity, and shook his outstretched hand. For a split second, his eyes lingered on her flawless breasts that were threatening to burst out of her white cotton shirt, and then his glance locked with hers again. He saw no sympathy in her eyes, or any degree of pity for that matter, but felt a muted feeling of alert, a warning of what is coming.
He thought that maybe his interpretation of the reason he was called in hurriedly to the Head of Operations was wrong, but he quickly erased that thought from his mind.
“The Head of Operations will now see you. Thank you for coming.” Her tone was friendly and Eddie nodded politely, ironically thinking to himself that had he not come, they would have sent someone to get him.
“A little sudden, isn’t it?” Eddie tried to soften the blow he was expecting, but, as he suspected, she had nothing to say.
“These days are quite busy,” Judy said calmly, without giving away a single piece of information, “we had to call you in in such short notice, thus giving up precious hours of teaching.”
As if you care. Did she need to prove that she was up to date on what happens in other units? No, this was more likely just a joke at his expense. ‘Not very nice of you,’ thought Eddie, ‘I wouldn’t have done that to you.’
This train of thought was cut off as soon as L’s door opened, and he came out to welcome him, his hand outstretched to shake Eddie’s, which did not say a thing about what was awaiting him. L was famous for retaining a certain feeling of intimacy with his subordinates, which helped him disguise his true personality, which was famous for sociopathic tendencies. Eddie did not buy into these fake niceties, and in his head he noted that somewhere in Judy’s desk, between her beautiful knees, there must be a buzzer for the boss, or maybe there is a closed circuit camera in one of the landscapes hung on the walls. Or maybe both. But he tended toward the buzzer.
L’s spacious office lay behind double, noise-proof doors. Its center was an enormous maple wood desk as large as a pool table, its top coated with a thick strip of black leather, which made it look even more expensive and luxurious. There were no documents on the enormous desk except for one thin yellow file resting in the middle of the desk as if it were a small desert island in the middle of an ocean. L’s chair, a large black leather office chair with a tall back, had a kind of orthopedic device connected to it, which made sense considering the boss’ perpetual limp. There were three chairs on the other side of the desk, all simple, straight-back chairs, so uncomfortable that one could only sit on them for a short time, the time r
equired to take in orders.
It was Eddie’s first time in this operations holy of holies. He quickly tried to memorize the room’s structure and the objects in it. Behind L’s desk was one window that overlooking the sea. There was a seating corner by that window with a low table and four chairs that seemed more upholstered, more comfortable, and were probably meant for longer meetings that involved brainstorming and conversations. In front of that corner was a four-seater leather couch that could easily serve as a comfortable bed on the long nights when the boss could not leave the office. Eddie noticed a little handle on the side of the couch, which he assumed meant a large, craftily disguised drawer where the sheets L used during those long nights were probably kept. There was a round wooden table on the other corner, with four hand-carved legs. On that table was a marble chess board, a pile of art books (Eddie recognized The World of Titian), a magazine with the title “Private Pilot” printed on it in red, and a Compaq laptop.
Eddie closed his eyes for a second—this action was his equivalent to a computer’s “save” option. As of now, he knew, all these details will be stored in his mind just as well as they would have in a photograph taken with a state-of-the-art camera. L signaled him to take a seat. Eddie took the middle seat while watching L as he bent his body and fell onto the chair in an unnatural motion that he studied well. ‘Here it comes,’ thought Eddie, and felt an irritation in his stomach.
L remained silent while Judy was pouring water from a glass jug into two glasses. She placed the glasses in front of them and stepped out. The heavy door closed behind her and the click of an automatic lock echoed, clear and metallic. Eddie looked straight at L and waited. He did not have to wait long.
“What the hell went wrong in there? I want to hear your point of view.”
‘Straight to the point,’ thought Eddie. The friendly look in L’s eyes turned into a tough, demanding look, the kind of look that would not tolerate hesitation or evasion.
“I gave my version in full to the committee,” Eddie spoke slowly, his voice silent and measured. He thought about his version quite a bit before he gave it. Now this was all about protecting one’s version. In every interrogation, the interrogator tries to chip into the first version given by the interrogated. The breakthrough moment is considered the moment when the interrogated starts to add to or subtract from the initial version.
“If you mean the smokescreen you covered them with,” L’s voice did not conceal a dangerous, restless tone, “know that I override your loyalty to the commander of the operation or anyone else in the team. I want to hear the truth, and I believe you want to say it just as much.”
‘Was this a life preserve?’ Eddie wondered for a split second. If he said what he considered true, there is a good chance he would be back where he belongs. There was only one problem: if he did that, he would, in a few words, seal the fate of the operation’s commander.
“I repeat what I said,” he heard himself say, “my full version was noted by the committee and I have nothing to add to it.” There goes a promising career, he thought.
L frowned and his look became even tougher. “Let me remind you that the operational facts stand before anything else. Even before the friends that you, quite unwisely, choose to protect. This debrief is at the level of the Head of Operations and I ask you again: According to what you know, what created the problem? Who made the mistake and what led to it?”
Eddie looked straight at him and remained silent. The answer to the question was clear and simple in his mind, and he wondered how many times in his life he would reenact this moment in his mind, the moment where he sealed his own fate by remaining silent. Now, he thought, a hand gesture telling him to get out of there would follow. Someone else will do the dirty work of firing him.
The silence lasted and time stood still. Eddie’s ears, sharpened by the silence, picked up on the humming of the electricity from the lights and a faded, monotonous white noise from the road beyond the fence, which echoed in the office even though it had double windows.
He knew that in another moment or two, this silence would be broken with one short word, maybe two, and then his life will be entirely different. It will turn over for the second time within five years, only that this time, it wasn’t his choice, and even worse—he had no idea how he would deal with what was coming. All that he had left to do was to save his honor by looking directly at L, and so he did.
To his surprise, L stretched back in his chair and the tough look magically disappeared from his eyes as he began speaking with a voice as soft as that of an accomplice. Eddie found himself impressed with him against his will, even though he knew L had no qualms about adopting a fake friendly voice, if he needed one.
“Let’s forget the past five minutes,” said L, and Eddie thought that it was easier said than done. “I brought you here because a problem came up. I was told that you are the right man to take care of it. Now I think it may be so.”
‘What a quick and surprising move,’ thought Eddie, ‘they never stop testing you.’ Only that for him, this was all superfluous. To Eddie, working for the Bureau was a calling led by a strong faith that their work was crucial for maintaining national security. No one needed to remind him that him and his few friends spearheaded the front lines—the lines that, if broken or penetrated, bring with them defeat. This was the basis of his complete loyalty to the chain of command.
It is true, they made mistakes too, but who doesn’t? Those who were trained to make decisions, so he believed, did the best they could. And those who were trained to execute these decisions had to do it without posing any questions. This was the only way to allow things to work as they should. He who challenged his superiors’ decisions created, sooner or later, chaos that could lead to disaster. Speak if your opinion is called for—even if it goes against the majority’s opinion—but as soon as a decision has been cast, you should no longer doubt or hesitate, you must act as stated and in the most professional manner.
“I’m listening.”
L sat up and naturally retrieved his rough tone. “One of our intelligence officers is out of control.” He paused for a minute, carefully choosing his words. “For a while we have been receiving news that he started working independently.”
This was the Bureau’s worst nightmare: operational team members who turned to private initiatives and created damage beginning with corruption and ending with actual treason.
L stopped talking and pulled a black pipe and a bag of tobacco from his drawer. Eddie thought about the things he said while L was busy stuffing his pipe and lighting it. He managed to do it on the third match and then leaned back in his chair blowing a cloud of blue, aromatic smoke. He handed Eddie the yellow file.
“We sent people to bring him in for questioning. That was after he severed all ties and we could not locate him for three days.” L’s voice was lowered, as if the things he was about to say were difficult to utter. “He surprised them. Killed two good men and injured the third, with no provocation. Then, as he was running away, he seriously injured an innocent beggar, who was unfortunate enough to be on his escape route. I don’t remember a case this severe in the past ten years.”
Eddie thought that any comparison to other cases was redundant. He did not know many worse scenarios.
“If I may ask, Sir,” Eddie’s body leaned forward, “did you say it was an intelligence officer?”
“Yes, I know. They’re not entirely operational, our cultured academics…”
Maybe there was a slight contempt in L’s voice but Eddie wasn’t sure of that. There was a short pause, and then L said “you can usually be sure that they’ll come along quietly.” His voice sank, as if the memory was too hard on him, and then explained “it’s a special case. The man had an operational role before he went on to fill intelligence positions.”
Intelligence was a euphemism for spying.
“And was excellent. Apparently he did not forgot what he knew.” His tone changed just slightly. Eddie wo
ndered if he recognized a bit of resentfulness in L’s voice.
“I understand,” said Eddie, hoping that he did, in fact, understand.
“We lost him,” L was talking to the point, “we have no idea where he is right now, even though it’s quite likely that he has not left town. We have men in the train stations, the bus terminal, and the airport. All car rentals were checked and nothing was found. We believe that he is hiding in a safe house that he has prepared as part of his treason plan.” The word was said explicitly, and Eddie felt a wave of anger. There was only one sentence for treason.
“And you expect me to…” wondered Eddie.
L gave him a long glance before answering. “This is a special appointment for the purpose of research, location, and identification. You’ll be working alone. After you locate him, report to me alone through this office, and I will care for the rest. It is unnecessary to note how important this case is. The idea that he might get away is intolerable and unthinkable. It means disaster.” After he emphasized this beyond the shadow of a doubt, he carried on and said, “this file will have everything you need.”
Eddie took the file and opened it. He did not recognize the man in the photograph. His eyes looked at him without really seeing him. Damn it, the way looks can deceive. Eddie estimated that the man was about forty-years-old. He knew the file had a detailed description, including even characteristic motions and any sign that could help in recognizing him. ‘You better start worrying, my friend,’ his brain signaled to the photograph. He was surprised by the facility with which he could hate a man he’s never met.
L seemed to read his mind. “You better beware. The man is armed and very dangerous. The men he killed were experienced, but they didn’t have a chance. Shot them like stray dogs. This is a location and identification mission, and that is where your orders end.”