by JM Addison
*
Damian was smoking another cigarette. He seemed to be smoking more and more lately. He needed to break the grip the hideous things had on him, but couldn’t just now. He confronted a smallish man with features that slightly resembled a caricature drawing of a weasel standing in front of him. Their meeting took place in an otherwise unoccupied conference room.
“Well?” Damian prodded. Who is she?
“Her name is Mara Chandler.” Came the simple response.
“So? I want to know: Who she is? What do we know about her. Wait a minute, Chandler? She’s a relative?”
“Yeah, It turns out this chick’s the guy’s sister.”
“Just Great! Wait a minute. Maybe that’s not so bad. Why wouldn’t a concerned sister want to pop over to her sick brother’s house to check up on him? It fits.”
The small, weasel man just stood there. Damian began to pace, then said, “We need to find out what she knows. We don’t want to grab her if she’s just concerned about her brother and that’s all. The less we do the better. Somehow we just need to convince her that he’s really all right and she’ll back off.”
“There’s one more little complication. She’s an employee of Viiradium too.” Replied the weasel.
“An employee! Of Viiradium! Oh Great! Wait, wait, that might be good too. It means we have even more control. Get the tech boys back in to sweep her computer. Put a tap on her office phone. It would be too drastic to tap her home phone, at least right now anyway. Find out what is available in her personnel records. While she’s at work, check out her house or apartment or wherever she lives.” After a moment’s pause, he went on, “Well? Is that all?”
“Yes” said the weasel.
“Well I don’t pay you to stand there – move! One more thing. Make sure she doesn’t get the police involved!”