The Intern's Handbook: A Thriller

  Alice:

  Everyone wants to be Catwoman. She’s like every chick that dresses like a slut for Halloween. So definitely Batgirl.

  Lago:

  Too bad. Catwoman is hot.

  Alice:

  Yeah, but she’s been around the block.

  Lago:

  And Batgirl is more like the girl next door?

  Alice:

  The one you bring home to mom.

  Lago:

  I would bring you home to mom. If I had a mom.

  Alice:

  Charming.

  Lago:

  I’m working on it.

  Alice:

  Work harder, okay?

  Lago:

  Okay.

  Alice:

  What’s this?

  Lago:

  Open it.

  Alice:

  Um . . . What the hell is this?

  Lago:

  That’s me, growing some balls.

  Alice:

  Really? Let’s see.

  Lago:

  See what?

  Alice:

  I think you said something before about saying the things that need to be said.

  Lago:

  Will you marry me?

  Alice:

  Why are you still standing?

  Lago:

  How’s this? I think my knee is in pigeon shit too.

  Alice:

  Better. Now try again.

  Lago:

  Will you marry me?

  Alice:

  Why should I?

  Lago:

  Because I love you.

  ALICE IS CRYING AND LAUGHING.

  Alice:

  I love you too, you son of a bitch.

  Lago:

  Is that a yes?

  Alice:

  That’s a hell yes.

  PAUSE. PHYSICAL CONTACT.

  Alice:

  Harry Winston. Nice touch.

  Lago:

  Now you can walk down the red carpet.

  Alice:

  Those other bitches will look like trolls compared to me.

  LONG PAUSE. PHYSICAL CONTACT.

  Alice:

  Did you get a room at this place or are we going to fuck al fresco?

  Lago:

  You’re standing in it.

  Alice:

  No way.

  Lago:

  Way.

  Alice:

  Who did you have to kill to get a roof terrace on Central Park?

  Lago:

  The front desk clerk. And the manager. And most of the cleaning staff. It was a bloodbath.

  Alice:

  But well worth it, right?

  Lago:

  Absolutely.

  Alice:

  Can’t believe I’m getting married.

  Lago:

  That makes two of us.

  Alice:

  I’ve always wanted a big wedding. Holy shit. How the hell am I going to find time to plan it?

  Lago:

  Might I suggest we elope? We can go to some exotic locale and actually enjoy ourselves. No pressure. No caterers running late or terrible wedding singers. Just you and me.

  Alice:

  My parents would kill me. Then they would kill you.

  Lago:

  Just think about it. We could leave tonight.

  Alice:

  And waste this hotel room? Not on your life.

  Lago:

  Then this weekend.

  Alice:

  You’re telling me you want to go away and get married this weekend?

  Lago:

  Yes.

  Alice:

  I don’t know if you’re a lunatic or just very decisive.

  Lago:

  Can I be both?

  Alice:

  Of course. That’s what I love about you. You’re a freak. Like me.

  LONG PAUSE. PHYSICAL CONTACT.

  Alice:

  Is this for real?

  Lago:

  What do you mean?

  Alice:

  I mean, is this really happening? Are you really into it, or are you just desperate to get me back?

  Lago:

  I’m really into it and I’m desperate to get you back.

  Alice:

  Good answer.

  Lago:

  When you shut me out, I felt like I was going to die. I don’t ever want to feel that again.

  Alice:

  I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I just have this tendency to completely write people off when I’m hurt. Bad habit.

  Lago:

  If I hadn’t put this all together, do you think you would have ever spoken to me again?

  Alice:

  I doubt it. I’d convinced myself you were just another zombie waste of time in a suit.

  Lago:

  It’s a pretty nice suit for a zombie.

  BOTH SUBJECTS LAUGH.

  Alice:

  You surprised me tonight.

  Lago:

  Like I said, I grew a pair. And did what felt right.

  Alice:

  See. You’ve had a heart all along, Tin Man.

  Lago:

  And this whole time I was hoping for a brain.

  LONG PAUSE.

  Lago:

  Is this real for you? Are you sure you want to shack up with a creep like me?

  Alice:

  I like creeps. If you had a van and some candy—

  Lago:

  Seriously. I just want you to know what you’re getting into.

  Alice:

  What am I getting into? Are you living a double life as a Cuban drug lord or one of those guys with wives all over the country? Oh, maybe a serial killer. That’s okay because we can get a house with a big crawl space.

  Lago:

  Can we be serious for a minute?

  Alice:

  If you insist. But if you’re going to try to convince me not to marry you, I’m going to throw you over the fucking balcony.

  Lago:

  I don’t want to do that. I just. What happened before can’t happen again. I’m not perfect and—

  Alice:

  And you’re afraid I’ll crucify you for your mistakes?

  Lago:

  Yeah.

  Alice:

  I will crucify you. But you have my word I’ll never shut you out again.

  Lago:

  And you have my word that I will try to pull my head out of my ass as soon as possible.

  Alice:

  That’s good, because when your head is up your ass it makes kissing you a little difficult.

  Lago:

  Feel like trashing a hotel suite Keith Richards style?

  Alice:

  Is it possible we’ll get arrested?

  Lago:

  Pretty much guaranteed.

  Alice:

  Then yes.

  —END TRANSCRIPT—

  30

  * * *

  WONDERLAND REDUX

  My evening with Alice was a huge success. The HR team really nailed this, and I couldn’t have done it without them. Alice accepted my proposal and I convinced her that I’m head over heels in love with her. We spent the night in a hotel, but she invited me to dinner at her apartment tonight. She jokingly said she would be cooking and that I should taste her food before I really commit to marrying her. When I’m there, I’ll clone her keycard so I can access Bendini’s office and grab the partners’ classified travel itinerary. Then Bob and I can finish our execution planning.

  * * *

  Rule #13: Everything is a weapon.

  If you approach this job thinking that the only weapons you have at your disposal are guns, knives, poison, explosives, and all of the usual clichés, then you will be dead before you can collect your first paycheck. Think about the predator. Truly effective predators do not bull their way toward the prey and attempt to take them by brute force every time. They stalk, lure, and even seduce. A pack of coyotes, some of the mos
t effective and misunderstood predators in the wild, use one of the most brilliant luring and stalking methods I have ever seen. As some of you may know, coming from places like California, Arizona, and Colorado, coyotes have figured out that domestic pets are a strong addition to the menu. But with their elaborate shelter—someone’s home—they aren’t always easy to get. I have seen a pack of coyotes send a female in heat to lure a male, nonneutered dog away from a house, only for the males to tear him to shreds when he heads out into the woods to get laid. That is not just killing; it is the dance of death, a fluid waltz with a climax of blood.

  I’m telling you this because, no matter what happens to me, I want you to know my real intentions with Alice. If I fail, Bob will blame her and he will claim that she’s the reason I lost my focus. But you’ve been with me every step of the way and you know that is not the case. I might have done more than necessary to seduce an asset. I might have overstepped with her in many ways. But in the end I know that she has played a major role in what I believe will be my ultimate success with this case. And in the end, even though I will use those things that we all associate with the word weapon, I would not be in the position to use them if I had not used the true weapons of a predator—cunning, persistence, and most important, patience.

  United States Department of Justice

  Federal Bureau of Investigation

  * * *

  Washington, D.C. 20535

  ALL INFORMATION HEREIN IS CLASSIFIED

  SURVEILLANCE TRANSCRIPT: AUDIO RECORDING

  Location: Wireless phone call intercept—IMSI catcher/Roving bug

  Subjects: John Lago and Marcus (censored).

  Marcus:

  Hello?

  Lago:

  Marcus?

  Marcus:

  Is this John?

  Lago:

  Yes. Can you talk?

  Marcus:

  Of course. I’m glad you called.

  Lago:

  It sounds like someone’s there.

  Marcus:

  It’s a festival. In the street. I forgot which Saint.

  Lago:

  I didn’t call for small talk. I hope that’s all right.

  Marcus:

  Fine. I’m not one for small talk either. What’s on your mind?

  Lago:

  When my mother died, what was it like?

  Marcus:

  In what way?

  Lago:

  I mean, for you. What was it like for you?

  Marcus:

  It was . . . hard to describe. I thought I would die too. I wanted to die.

  Lago:

  Because you loved her?

  Marcus:

  Very much. We had been together so long, I couldn’t imagine life without her. She was the only real family I ever had.

  Lago:

  Were you married?

  Marcus:

  Yes. We had eloped a few years before her death. We ran away to Honduras and got married in this little church outside of town.

  Lago:

  Is that why you went back there?

  Marcus:

  Yes. I mean I had to get out of the country, and this place had some connection to her.

  Lago:

  I love someone.

  Marcus:

  John, that’s great. What’s her name?

  Lago:

  Not just yet. Okay?

  Marcus:

  Sure. Can you tell me a little about her?

  Lago:

  Yes. She’s beautiful.

  Marcus:

  That always helps.

  Lago:

  It certainly doesn’t hurt.

  Marcus:

  What’s she like?

  Lago:

  She’s tough and kind of no bullshit. Like a guy, you know? But she’s also very much a woman. Almost too much of a woman, if you know what I mean.

  Marcus:

  I think so. She sounds like a handful.

  Lago:

  She is! You have no idea. Was my mother that way?

  Marcus:

  No. She was very quiet and gentle. Unassuming. I don’t think we ever raised our voices to each other once. And those were some hard times.

  Lago:

  I’m having kind of a hard time too.

  Marcus:

  Do you want to talk about it?

  Lago:

  I’ll try. I, um, I’m in this line of work . . . it’s not very conducive to having a relationship.

  Marcus:

  How so?

  Lago:

  It’s . . . dangerous.

  Marcus:

  Can you tell me anything about it? Maybe I can help.

  Lago:

  I can’t tell you about it. Not over the phone. Maybe not ever.

  LONG PAUSE.

  Marcus:

  John, are you there?

  Lago:

  Yeah. I’m so tired.

  Marcus:

  You want to talk later?

  Lago:

  No. I’m running out of time.

  Marcus:

  Why? John, I might be able to help you.

  Lago:

  How? You’re in Honduras.

  Marcus:

  I’m a very resourceful person. I couldn’t have lasted this long if I wasn’t.

  Lago:

  No one can help me, Marcus. I just need to talk a bit.

  Marcus:

  Let’s talk.

  Lago:

  If you could’ve done something to protect my mother, even if it meant that you might die, would you have done it?

  Marcus:

  Yes. Without a doubt. And since she was pregnant with you, I would have gone to the ends of the earth . . .

  Lago:

  Are you there, Marcus?

  Marcus:

  Yeah. It’s still just . . . hard to think about all of that.

  Lago:

  I know the feeling.

  Marcus:

  Is she in danger? The woman you love?

  Lago:

  Yes.

  Marcus:

  Then you need to do what you can to protect her. You are my son, and I don’t want you to be in harm’s way. But I also don’t want you to live with what I’ve had to live with. It’s just . . . no way to live.

  Lago:

  I need to tell her everything. That’s the only way.

  Marcus:

  Then do it. Come clean if that will protect her.

  Lago:

  She’ll probably reject me.

  Marcus:

  Not if she loves you.

  Lago:

  You think so?

  Marcus:

  I know so. I did . . . things that I was afraid to tell your mother. Horrible things that were a part of my . . . addiction. But she took me back. Love is that way. It’s something the two people in it can’t control. Takes on a life of its own.

  Lago:

  I’m afraid.

  Marcus:

  Good. Then you will approach this with the right amount of caution. Fear is a great asset if you use it right.

  Lago:

  That’s an interesting thing to say.

  Marcus:

  Why?

  Lago:

  I don’t know. I guess I didn’t expect you to be so interesting.

  Marcus:

  Because I’m an old ex-junkie hiding out in Central America?

  Lago:

  No . . . Yes.

  Marcus:

  Someday, you’ll get to know me, John. And I think I’ll surprise you.

  —END TRANSCRIPT—

  31

  * * *

  THE CLOSEST I EVER CAME TO BEING REAL

  Dinner with Alice tonight. I don’t know what makes me more nervous, having to dose her and clone her keycard, all the while expecting the feds to come down on her apartment like Blitzkrieg at any moment, or talking about “the wedding.” I bring a bottle of Silver Oak cabernet, the right kind of medicine to soften the edges of both p
otential problems. I push the buzzer on her door. No answer. My guess is she’s in the shower, as Alice is compulsively late. It’s her way of saying, “I’m important and all you peasants can wait until I am ready for you.”

  Now that I’m her betrothed, she has blessed me with a key to her apartment. As I unlock the seventeen locks on her door (the two hinges could be easily popped by a savvy thief), I half entertain the idea of just grabbing her and taking off tonight. Bob can whack Locke himself, get off his ass for once and earn like the rest of us. I have plenty of money, so I don’t need the bonus. And Bob will be so busy taking care of Locke so the “clients” don’t take care of him that he won’t have time to come after me. At least not right away. By the time he did get around to it, we’d be long gone. I’m sure the real Alice would rather live like a queen in some obscure, tropical locale than hack it out with the FBI for another decade making five figures and watching all the white boys get promoted.