The Vagary Tales

knew she carried there as she reached for her espresso.

  Instead, he checked his watch and wondered how late he should purposefully be today. The meeting was scheduled for seven a.m. Who made up these hours, anyway? He would spend all day in briefings, debriefings, research, planning sessions, coaching sessions from Vladimir Vissarionovich, working out at the gym, an hour at the range and then tonight—it always was at night, it seemed—his mission would kick off and usually not finish until late. Then back here tomorrow for some maniacal meeting at seven sharp.

  Jake occasionally lamented to Gary that he couldn’t figure out why he didn’t just take a long vacation to Africa or lose himself in the Outback. Gary loved the life, but he actually got assignments that would take him away from the office more and his schedule was not as stressful as Jake’s. Gary worked on the technical end. He set up the scenarios and laid out the groundwork. Jake was involved in the wet work. At 26, he was the youngest agent at Galbraith.

  He lost interest in Hallie, but evidently she was waiting on him to say something. He didn’t have anything to offer, so he stood there clicking his nail on the ignition key to his 2009 Bugatti Veyron. He continued to stare at the menu as if it had changed overnight. It didn’t matter. He would order the same thing as he did every weekday.

  “Caramel Macchiato with a side of cinnamon and a strawberry cream cheese danish. To go,” Hallie said. She stood beside him with a smug look on her face, sipping her espresso. The muffin lay on the counter, looking forgotten.

  “Hmm. Yes. And an extra shot of espresso today, Barb.” He had noted the café clerk’s name badge earlier. He was perturbed that Hallie already knew something about him. All he knew about her was that she chewed her nails. Maybe that was something. He stored the information for now.

  “Wanna join me in the elevator on the way up?”

  “It’s a long voyage. I’m not sure I want to make that sort of commitment.” He still hadn’t looked at her. The menu still held his interest. He watched as a fly crawled across the “We serve soups!” sign.

  Hallie pursed her lips and watched Barb’s back as she turned to grab the caramel.

  “I see. Tom said you were a hard nut to crack. I just thought…”

  “Yeah. Well, don’t think, rookie. React. You will live longer.” He congratulated himself. He was imparting sage advice and putting the new girl in her place at the same time.

  “Is that what you call what you did Thursday? A reaction?” She nodded and picked some poppy seeds off of her muffin with the nubs of her ragged nails. Her smug smile was just visible out of his peripheral vision. She rolled the seeds between her thumb and finger.

  Jake left a ten dollar bill on the counter and took his danish and macchiato from Barb. He remembered to smile. Barb always gave him extra caramel. Barb had a wart on her left cheek and a chipped front incisor. She wore White Diamond perfume and Avon hand lotion. She was right-handed and she spoke with a southern drawl, probably from Texas, he thought.

  Hallie followed him. Predictable. He thought about her nails. Her jacket: wool, yet it was June. Her heels were purchased from JC Penny. Her necklace looked like an heirloom. Probably her mother’s. He couldn’t make out her accent. Possibly Pennsylvania? It didn’t matter. He developed a profile in his mind and worked diligently to decipher this annoyance. He couldn’t let a rookie have the upper hand.

  “I just wanted to visit with you to give you a heads up, Mr. Monday.” She sounded desperate now, but she caught him off guard again. He was beginning to really not like Hallie. His thumb dug into the soft sugary danish and his hand pressed dangerously against the hot cup of macchiato.

  He turned on his heel and she stopped abruptly. He could hear her heels slipping on the tiles of the lobby. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  “Heads up, you say? Why, rookie, why didn’t you say so?” He stared down at her. She was tall, especially in the four inch heels, but he was still taller. Hallie looked down as if to make sure she hadn’t spilled. Jake tossed his danish in the trash and licked the icing from his thumb.

  “Look, Hallie. I had a hard week last week. We all are aware of that. If you have some sort of comment, why not save it for the briefing? Or even better yet, keep it to yourself until you’ve walked in my shoes for awhile.” He straightened his Forzieri tie and smoothed his Paul Frederick suit jacket.

  She didn’t respond. Satisfied, he turned and followed the mass of employees toward the elevators. He didn’t care if he had upset her. He didn’t care if she followed. She had piqued his interest and if she really had something to tell him, she would assert herself.

  He waited with the throng of sleepy-eyed and young coworkers for the elevators to arrive. Everyone was going up and so he usually waited until the lobby cleared out to go up last. He pulled out his smart phone and checked his e-mail.

  “So, you really don’t want to know?” Hallie sipped her espresso and glanced at him over the lid.

  He looked up at her like he didn’t know who she was.

  “Excuse me? What do I not want to know?”

  “Well, for starters, you might want to know about the contract on your head.” She raised her eyebrows to emphasize her point.

  He wasn’t worried about being overheard. The lobby was buzzing with conversation. The cameras could pick up their visual, but he knew from experience that the audio was limited.

  “And this is different how?” He tried to seem calm. He wasn’t. He could feel sweat roll down his shoulder blades. He fought the urge to remove his jacket and loosen his silver-and-gold lined tie.

  “It is coming from the very top, for starters. Your actions last week evidently marked you as expendable.” She shrugged.

  “Let me get this straight: you come up to me to warn me like you are looking out for my best interest? I’m confused, rookie. Aren’t you here to get my guard down so that you can be the one with the feather in your cap?”

  “Ambition is your calling card, not mine.”

  “Trust me, rookie. You are just as interested in climbing the ladder here as I was when I started. I can see it in your greedy little eyes.” She appeared hurt. Her frown took in her entire oval face. He couldn’t help himself. He felt a little sorry for her. This was dangerous. He couldn’t let her get the best of him like this. I need to get in control of this and fast.

  “I think you are forgetting where you came from.” He could tell he made her mad.

  Despite this, he had to resist with every fiber in his being from ripping out her beautiful little throat. He felt his vision narrow, and his feet become lead. He blinked hard and stared at the macchiato in his hands. Absently, he threw it in the trash. He looked back up to see Hallie staring at him. The look of pity on her face turned his stomach.

  As if in another world, he heard the elevator chime. The doors opened with a thud.

  “We’re the last ones up. Maybe we should go.” She seemed nervous. He caught her glance over his shoulder. His sense of danger seemed muted, but he couldn’t ignore the signs. Something here wasn’t right.

  “How can I be sure this won’t be my last trip on this elevator?” He asked. Hallie stood inside the elevator and smiled back as she leaned forward to stop the door from closing.

  “You can’t.”

  “Well, I guess that will be the best answer a man could ask for.” He entered and deliberately turned his back to Hallie, looking back out toward the lobby to see what had concerned her earlier. He noted several employees from other floors walking or standing and talking. No one stood out. He cursed his sudden numbness. It was sure to get him killed. He crossed his arms across his chest. His right hand made a fist and his left hand was shaped into a blade, his fingers doubled over.

  As the doors closed, he became acutely aware that as an assassin, he would have already pulled the gun out and had it to the poor sap’s skull. Hallie hadn’t moved. Too bad. She had her opportunity. He would have to teach her a lesson.

&nb
sp; He led with is left hand, sweeping it under to hit her in the solar plexus. At the same time, he turned his hips and prepared to drive his right fist at her temple. The only problem: she wasn’t there. He felt something small and hard at his right pit. He froze, his hands held out ridiculously before him like he was doing some sort of elevator kata.

  “Put your hands down, you idiot.”

  “I’m sorry...”

  “Shut up! Don’t talk right now. We don’t have much time.” She seemed nervous. He was the one that was going to die.

  He could feel her pressing against him. He knew he was dead. Of course, he could kick her with his right knee in the kidney from this position. He was certain it would connect. He could feel her hip at his thigh. But the Browning was securely under his arm. The bullet would travel across his chest cavity, through lungs, heart and back out his left shoulder. And that would be it: so much for Jake Monday, vaunted assassin.

  He wanted to regret his recent actions. Recounting all the decisions that got him to this moment, he realized he couldn’t remember ever wanting to be an assassin. He couldn’t recall when it had first occurred. Maybe she was right: he had forgotten where he came from. He remembered test driving the Bugatti, could remember the blonde that sold him his set of seven ties. He recalled the decision to not pull the trigger when it was against direct orders.

  Why did he do that? That was a question he hadn’t asked yet. He had spent the entire weekend trying to forget it had happened. Now he probably would never get the answer to that perplexing posit.

  “Get against the wall,” she ordered. He could smell her perfume over the mahogany interior. Her eyes were actually green, he saw. They were wild. Her hair, swept away from her face now, framed her porcelain features. He noted the light red-and-brown freckles across the bridge of her nose. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed her before.

  He expected it to end then. He was surprised as he backed up to obey her order that her other hand snaked behind his ear. She grabbed his hair and tugged forcefully.

  The next thing he knew she was kissing him desperately. He could taste the espresso and lemon. Her lips were soft, but she pushed them against his with such force he could feel her teeth. He could feel the heat of her body pressed against him. She pulled away with a gasp.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. The automatic was still there. She hadn’t released the pressure of its barrel.

  “You still don’t remember, do you?” Her eyes pleaded with him. Perspiration and spittle coated her upper lip.

  “What am I supposed to remember?”

  “I love you, Monday!” She seemed more upset now than ever. He couldn’t tell if she had meant it as an admission or an accusation.

  “I don’t deserve this?”

  “We met four years ago in Berlin. We worked together before you came to work here.”

  “Wait. Berlin? I’ve never been to Berlin. I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks.”

  Her eyes showed pity. She shook her head slowly.

  They just passed the 55th floor. She reached back, the Browning still in place, and slammed the button for 60. She appeared to have planned this stop.

  “Les said it may take awhile for you to adjust.”

  “Listen, Hallie. Maybe you have the wrong guy. I mean, I would be willing to take you out for some seafood and maybe a walk down by the bay. I have a cottage out on Blackstone Lake, we could spend a weekend there...”

  “Shut it, Monday.”

  “OK.”

  The elevator stopped. Hallie led him out into a corridor. It was dark here. The only light came from the elevator and an exit sign ten feet away. The elevator closed.

  “Go to the stairs. Quick.”

  He obeyed. He had never been on this floor of the building before. He went through the door and up the stairs. They climbed two floors and then Hallie stopped him. The door onto floor 62 had a small window in it. She glanced in and then moved to one side. She squatted low, her skirt tucked neatly against her knees. Jake knelt on one knee on the other side of the door.

  “Are you going to tell me what is going on or do I have to figure this out?”

  “Jake, you aren’t who you think you are.”

  “That’s a relief. So I can stop pretending to be Homer Simpson now?” She ignored him.

  “We work for the same company. But not the Galbraith Alliance. You are in deep cover here and now you are in deep for real.”

  “You are starting to worry me, Hallie. Should I be worried?”

  “Very.” She pulled a wallet out of her jacket pocket and flipped it open. It had her id inside. Beside her picture was a red and blue shield over a marshal’s star.

  “You work for the Secret Service?”

  “And so do you. You have been our eyes inside Galbraith for the last three years. You were here to make sure their targets didn’t include persons protected by us. You went dark about a year ago. We just thought you were in deep. We had no idea you went rogue.” He just stared at her.

  “Until.”

  “Until last week. You showed up in Atlanta. Your target was the Chief.”

  “The Chief? As in THE CHIEF?”

  “Yeah. When you didn’t pull it off, we knew that you were in trouble. I had infiltrated two weeks ago to keep an eye on you, but I had no idea that Galbraith had this contract.”

  “Me either. Hallie, I didn’t know the target. I just didn’t have a good feeling. Something stopped me.”

  “I know.” She looked sincere.

  He whistled low and looked away. He was having a hard time digesting this.

  “But how?”

  “They’ve been brain washing you and drugging you for over a year, evidently. Your friend Barb has been slipping you a sedative. You probably feel groggy right about now, right?”

  “I’m fuzzy. But I am alert enough to wonder if I should trust you.”

  She stood up and glanced out the window.

  “Probably not.” She slipped the Browning back into its holster and stepped through the door. “Come on.”

  Jake hesitated. He had to be crazy to follow her. He had to be crazy to trust her. Jake Monday, the Secret Service Agent? Or, Jake Monday the high-paid assassin of the Galbraith Alliance? He couldn’t for the life of him decide which was more plausible. It all sounded like it was out of some cheap television drama.

  He licked his lips and tasted again the espresso and lemon. I guess the answers could be enlightening, he reasoned. He followed after her.

  Hallie was ahead of him. She was following what appeared to be a janitor. He noticed her heels beside him. One was turned over on its side. They were snakeskin Bottega Venetas, worth almost a thousand dollars. Jake tried to reconcile this mystery with the woman in the conservative blazer, chewed nails and heirloom necklace. He had been so wrong about the JC Penny shoes. So sue me, I’m a man.

  He watched as she crept up on the unsuspecting man in the blue overalls. Hallie’s bare feet suddenly left the floor and Jake watched, stunned as she leapt high in the air. Her feet crossed and her calves wrapped around the man’s neck. Hallie fell backwards, her hands slapping the tile of the corridor. She arched her back and used her momentum to flip the man backwards over her.

  Jake looked on as the man’s skull crashed onto the floor. He heard a sickening snap. Hallie was on her feet and grabbing a mop before Jake could move. He hadn’t appreciated just how much trouble he had been in. Hallie broke the mop handle over her knee.

  “Here. Take this. You’re going to need it.”

  She threw it at him. He caught it in the middle with one hand. He spun it clockwise and then back the other way effortlessly.

  “Not a competition, Monday. You don’t need to show off. Just come on before we are both dead.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  She looked back at him, her mouth serious, her eyes worri
ed.

  “Jump.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Just come on,” she said as she turned.

  They made their way down the corridor to another lobby. Hallie led them left and into a large bay of offices all glass and modern fixtures. Not one soul sat at a terminal. No one visited at the water cooler by the coffee maker. The entire place was deserted.

  “Can you explain something?”

  “If we have time.”

  “Where is everyone?”

  “No one works here. This entire building is a front for the Galbraith Alliance. They are assassins for hire by the highest bidder. They maintain legitimate businesses, but to hide all their transactions, they have to dump more money into ventures like this than they have people to man it.”

  “How long have you known about this?”

  “Not as long as you.”

  The view from the expansive office was amazing. Staten Island stretched out before them, the sun shining in the east across the river, towering buildings all around presenting a man-made forest of humanity, concrete and glass. It was surreal.

  “Quick. It has to be this side.” She led them through a maze of desks, fake plants and piles of office supplies and equipment still in boxes. She reached into her pocket and drew out a small device with a button. She depressed it and put it into her pocket.

  “What was that?”

  “My signal to Les. Don’t back out on me now, Monday. We have to get you back to the lab and get that implant out before it is too late. They will know we were here. They can get to anyone anytime as you know.”

  “Yeah, but evidently so can you.”

  Hallie stopped. She panted heavily from racing through the building. But her intense gaze softened and she smirked.

  “Well, Jake. Maybe it’s because I’m more determined. I have our family at stake.”

  “Family?”

  Suddenly, a roar erupted outside the building. The tower shook, the glass in the office rattled. In the distance he could hear an explosion. Ceiling tiles fell out and electrical wires dropped from above. Jake ducked and then dove for the cover of a desk.

  Jake could feel the bullets pass by before he heard them. Instincts kicked in. He picked up his mop handle and ran back the way they had come. He vaulted a desk and landed on top of two men in flak jackets wielding MP5s. He caught one in the throat with the end of the handle. He heard the wet gurgle and the man dropped his weapon, his hand grabbing his torn throat.

  Jake stepped in on the bigger man and put his foot down on the mercenary’s instep. He yelled and lurched forward. As he did, Jake grabbed the submachine gun and swung it over the man’s head. He brought the butt down on the back of the man’s skull.

  “Stop playing around and get over here! We have to leave now, Jake!”

  Pumped with adrenaline and grateful that the excitement of the moment was lifting the fogginess he had felt earlier, Jake retreated back toward Hallie. He fired off short bursts of fire. He had no extra ammunition, but he wanted the pursuit to keep their heads down until he got back to Hallie.