“And then?”
The Senior stopped in front of the car. “Save that for another day, shall we?” He dug in his pocket and tossed the keys to a puzzled Kit. “The instructions are on the passenger seat.”
“Un-kink yourself, lad. Get going.”
Kit, still frozen, stared at the Senior.
“You can drive?”
Kit nodded glumly.
“Then I suggest you get to it. You're expected.” And the Senior promptly turned about and walked away.
***
A still-bewildered, and now moderately disheveled, Kit approached the building, glancing over each shoulder again and again, and opened the door.
“Not bad at all, boy. Not bad.”
Kit whirled about the empty lobby, and found the Senior sitting on a folding chair off to one side. He stalked towards him, and in doing so took in the room: beyond the plate glass door, heavy now that he came to think of it, the hall pulled a sharp left, with nothing left for the eye save an elevator, a stairway door, and the aforementioned man on a folding chair.
Now poised in front of the Senior, all of the curses and epithets Kit had collected for the man along his stressful drive all along the major and minor and dead end streets of the City failed him and the only word that could pass through his gritted teeth was “You!”
Kit drew himself up to his full height, took a deep breath, and at their finest moment together, or so Kit would retell the story, the elevator opened and a third figure joined the scene.
“Hello, Sir,” said a sharply dressed woman as she bent down to kiss the man on the cheek.
“Kathe,” said the Senior.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
The Senior 5
The Group was new then, it being formed a few years earlier. Work was not plentiful, as there was still much competition throughout the City, but again, the group was new then; there weren't many of us. Everyone got work, though it was not always as challenging or as profitable as we desired.
I was younger then, and as such, I was given the contract for a shadow job. The idea at the time, and today as well, for I still believe it to be a good one, was to give the young and the new ones jobs of this nature, such that they would learn to be attentive and patient, to follow and observe, to become part of their surroundings instead of the proverbial sore thumb.
This was not my first shadow job, but it was early enough for me, in my youthful impatience and misunderstanding, to take it almost as a personal insult, as many young people still do.
Despite my training, was I not experienced enough to receive an action ticket? I thought to myself, had I made an error with a previous job, had there been complaints about my efficacy quotient? But as we were trained to, I let this line of inquiry run internally while getting ready for the job: I was an insurance policy.
The client harbored suspicions about the loyalty of a man in their organization, and this man was heading a delicate merging project. I was there to assure all items in question were signed, dated and initialed, as the expression goes, and finally returned to the client safely.
The man was to meet his contact in one of the transfer bays in Terminus and it was there three days prior to the meeting I installed myself.
I passed as one of the many businessmen that circulate throughout the bays and on occasion spend a night waiting for a connection. After day one, I could walk that bay blind. I had set up a small surveillance net, as per the client's request, and ran it through the course of my stay.
Direct and remote tests checked out, I grew progressively less comfortable sleeping on chairs. Puts an odd cramp in your back and makes you walk kind of crooked, you know?
The meeting finally occurred. The man appeared on time, as did his contact. They sat down, discussed, drank and reminisced, then agreed to the terms: he was given a briefcase as he handed over an envelope. Smiles all around.
As they rose to toast, the man broke procedure. With one hand around his glass, he used his other to stab his companion just under his ribcage. The man put down his glass, and eased his companion back down to the chair as he sank. He took the envelope off the table, lifted the briefcase, and walked away.
I was thrilled.
I was younger then, and as such, I was given the contract for a shadow job. The idea at the time, and today as well, for I still believe it to be a good one, was to give the young and the new ones jobs of this nature, such that they would learn to be attentive and patient, to follow and observe, to become part of their surroundings instead of the proverbial sore thumb.
This was not my first shadow job, but it was early enough for me, in my youthful impatience and misunderstanding, to take it almost as a personal insult, as many young people still do.
Despite my training, was I not experienced enough to receive an action ticket? I thought to myself, had I made an error with a previous job, had there been complaints about my efficacy quotient? But as we were trained to, I let this line of inquiry run internally while getting ready for the job: I was an insurance policy.
The client harbored suspicions about the loyalty of a man in their organization, and this man was heading a delicate merging project. I was there to assure all items in question were signed, dated and initialed, as the expression goes, and finally returned to the client safely.
The man was to meet his contact in one of the transfer bays in Terminus and it was there three days prior to the meeting I installed myself.
I passed as one of the many businessmen that circulate throughout the bays and on occasion spend a night waiting for a connection. After day one, I could walk that bay blind. I had set up a small surveillance net, as per the client's request, and ran it through the course of my stay.
Direct and remote tests checked out, I grew progressively less comfortable sleeping on chairs. Puts an odd cramp in your back and makes you walk kind of crooked, you know?
The meeting finally occurred. The man appeared on time, as did his contact. They sat down, discussed, drank and reminisced, then agreed to the terms: he was given a briefcase as he handed over an envelope. Smiles all around.
As they rose to toast, the man broke procedure. With one hand around his glass, he used his other to stab his companion just under his ribcage. The man put down his glass, and eased his companion back down to the chair as he sank. He took the envelope off the table, lifted the briefcase, and walked away.
I was thrilled.
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