Ashley Kaufmann arrived at the Ancoli Firm without a care in the world. As usual she was greeted by a Skinny Cinnamon Dolce latte and a blueberry muffin. A daily gift from John, a private little love note from her special one.
After taking a quick sip, she took the short walk to the ladies room to fix her hair and check herself in the full length mirror. She had rushed out of the house without giving herself a good once over and wanted to be sure that nothing was out of place. Within a few minutes, reassured that she was looking as good as she was going to get, she washed her hands and began the short trip back to her desk and her breakfast.
As she turned the corner and looked up, Ashley was greeted by the most unimaginable sight. If the sight she saw had been a grizzly bear charging toward her while holding a baby giraffe, she would have been less shocked. As her eyes rose she saw none other than her love, John Caleb Thorn, kissing that skank Tricia Bieber and not some innocent peck on the cheek. This was a full-on, passionate embrace.
How could this be happening? Ashley thought. We have real plans together. I love him, and I know he loves me. How could he betray me like this ? He was never interested in her. What changed? Was it her blonde locks and oversized bosom that suddenly won him over? Was she simply willing to fulfill his sexual desires when I was unwilling to go that far?
No sooner than she had seen this abhorrent scene, John looked up, saw her and then rushed down the stairs. Tricia walked by a smug smile on her face.
In an instant her brown eyes filled with tears making them look like oversized snow globes affixed to her face. Ashley quickly fled to the bathroom once more where she sobbed and sobbed. The quickening of her breaths combined with her deep sobbing made her feel as if she’d never be able to breathe again.
Meanwhile Neil Silver walked into the lobby of the Ancoli accounting firm and was greeted by Tricia with an all to inappropriate flirtatious grin. That woman was a slave to male attention, any male attention. It mattered even less to her that Silver was not one of the firms affluent clients once he flashed his badge and demanded to see John Thorn immediately. A man in power was her kryptonite she thought. In truth a man with human DNA was her kryptonite. She had succumbed to the charms and lack of charm of every kind of man imaginable.
The insatiable receptionist directed him to John’s office, and the agent indicated he would proceed on his own.
Finding John’s office uninhabited Silver began looking through the office for clues as to where John might be. Noting that the computer was unlocked, Silver assumed that Thorn would return shortly. In the meantime time he rummaged through the office for any and all information he could collect about his quarry.
Down the hall in the corner office, Sabrina Garrison entered with a the sealed cream colored envelope into Ken Philips’ office. He looked up from the Manlow’s tax package to give Sabrina his attention. Ordinarily he would be annoyed, but having worked with her for 15 years, she had become accustomed to his preferences. If she interrupted him, he took notice and as it had been years since she interrupted him about something she shouldn’t. He became practiced at assuming the disruption was warranted.
“Excuse me Ken, this came in, and it was marked urgent from Grace McBain.” Sabrina said handing the soft cream colored envelope.
Ken grabbed his letter opener and removed it from its calf skinned leather scabbard. As he opened the envelope, Sabrina excused herself closing the door and resuming her station outside Philips’ office.
Meanwhile inside the opulently decorated office, Ken removed the letter from the envelope and began to read it.
Dear Mr. Philips,
If you are reading this letter, I have ended my life. You are the primary reason for my decision. The months of ill treatment and gaslighting that you have unleashed since I returned from my surgery have finally become too much to bear.
I want you to know that the entire staff hates you and your bullying ways. I suppose you didn’t think that I would win the lotttery, and that it really stuck in your craw when the HR team informed you that the firm would be exposed to a very expensive lawsuit if you went forward with your plan to deny the benefit of the lottery.
You are cruel, dishonest, and rude. You devalue the people working beneath you and since you arrived here have been slowly killing the culture that made this the best place I have ever worked. I doubt even the fact that I’ve told you I died by suicide because of your cruelty has done anything other than to anger you. After all how could I have the audacity to blame you for your own bad actions.
Well, I must confess, I took a page out of your book and told a bald faced lie. I am quite alive, and it gives me great pleasure to inform you that I am resigning. My last day will coincide with the conclusion of my vacation from the lottery.
I hope our paths never cross again and may you burn in hell.
Sincerely,
Grace McBain
7Phillips crumpled the paper in his hands and his blood began boiling. His rage was put on pause as Sabrina again opened the door. He was about to let out a barrage of invective when he saw that she was not alone and the man with her was displaying a badge.
He quickly changed faces from the arrogant and angry managing partner to the affable salesman that gleefully courted clients. A broad smile overtook his face revealing the chiclet shaped perfectly white teeth he paid so much to acquire. With the deceptive serenity of his face fully in place he greeted the man, HTTF agent Neil Silver.
“How can I help you detective?” He said in a measured but pleasant tone.
“It is Special Agent, I am Special Agent Neil Silver, HTTF. I am looking for one of your partners Mr. Philips, a John Thorn.” He doesn’t seem to be in his office and I was wondering where I can find him. We need to discuss a matter of some urgency with him.” The agent responded with a noted awkwardness in his speech.
I’ll bet this guy couldn’t even sell scout cookies when he was a kid. How embarrassing. “I just spoke with John a little while ago, he is definitely in the office somewhere. Sabrina, can you find John for Detective, no Special Agent Silver please?” As Sabrina nodded in agreement and closed the door, Ken continued. “What is this about? We don’t exactly traffic in terrorism here, how is John mixed up in this? And I suppose I should ask what this is, as I don’t believe you told me.”
“That is right Mr. Philips, I did not. I am afraid, I am not at liberty to discuss the nature of our investigation, nor our questions for Mr. Thorn. You can however assist us with our efforts. Does he have anyone within the firm he would confide in? Who may know his whereabouts, assuming of course that he may have stepped out of the office.”
Philips’ countenance turned icy. “Agent Silver, I am not a man accustomed to having my requests for information rebuffed. You should know that I have many friends in Washington who can make life for you at the HTTF quite uncomfortable. I recommend that if you want any assistance from me or anyone else at this firm, that you or whomever is authorized come to me directly and provide answers to any questions that I may pose. As to John Thorn, the poor fool seems quite smitten with that girl out there, Ashley Kauffmann. He thinks we are too stupid to see he is gagging for it from her. Carrying on buying her coffee every day as if he doesn’t know he is a partner at this firm. Its beneath the dignity of his office. At any rate, on a day such as this when he should be focused on client presentations, he is probably off chasing her skirt instead. I will never understand the young people nowadays. So unfocused and horny they can’t see straight.”
“Um yes, I see, Ashley Kaufmann was it, I will make a note.” The HTTF agent made a note in his spiral pad. Fittingly comfortably in one hand the notebook was a relic of the past. Not unlike the awkward agent holding it. Silver stood up bounding toward the door as Sabrina opened it. She informed the two men that John had apparently left the building and no one seemed to know where he had gone.
Silver sent a message to James Ridge, the section chief of the Los Angeles field office informing him. He received a swift reply, “interrogate everyone” it said.
After fully exiting Ken Philips’ office, Neil asked Sabrina if she could arrange interviews with staff that may have encountered John that morning starting with Ashley Kaufmann. Sabrina shepherded him along to a conference room and began making arrangements for the interviews.
Tricia Bieber was the first to be interviewed. Silver retrieved a recorder from his bag and began writing. A creature of habit every page of interview notes are carefully formatted. As he busied himself with creating the start of interview header, he didn’t hear as Sabrina ushered the receptionist into the conference room.
Once the agent finished his meticulous preparation of his notes he looked up to see the voluptuous blonde seated before him. He recoiled slightly at the surprise and then began his questioning.
“May I have your name?”
“It is Patricia Renee Bieber.”
“Mhmm” the agent muttered without looking up from his writing.
“What is your age, and occupation?”
“I am 25, and I am the firm’s receptionist.”
“Thank you.”
“What is your relationship with John Thorn?”
“Well, one day we’ll be married.” She declared with the utmost confidence.
Silver looked up in response to her unexpected revelation. The receptionist sat there with a bubbly smile on an otherwise vacant visage. He sat with the silence for a moment before proceeding.
“And how long have you and Mr. Thorn been seeing each other?”
“Well we aren’t seeing each other right now. But I am confident we will be soon. Just this morning he greeted me with an impassioned kiss. I must say I was beginning to think I was losing my touch, but as usual, he fell to my beauty and charms.”
In the estimation of the agent, the woman did not possess real charm or substance. She substituted each for accessibility and superficial appearance. That appearance he was certain she rated a nine or ten in her own mind was more like a seven or eight. She would likely be more attractive if she wasn’t wearing enough makeup to be part of an Indian war party.
“Mr. Thorn has left the office. Do you know where he might go?”
“Oh you don’t think he went to get a ring do you? I mean, I am a good kisser, but I thought it’d take more to hook that fish you know?”
The depth of this woman’s delusional state must be a real treat to deal with on a daily basis. Noting that he would not get any meaningful information from her, he asked a simple series of standard questions to complete the interview as swiftly as possible.
After the fruitless interview with Tricia concluded, the agent requested that Sabrina send in another employee.
Instead of another Ancoli firm employee, Silver was approached by James Ridge the Deputy Director. He looked up as the shadow of the six foot five director dimmed the light reflecting off of his notepad. Not expecting the Director to personally inspect his work, Neil stammered. “D- Director Ridge. I wasn’t expecting you!”
“Relax Neil, apparently this Philips guy has connections, and now I have to get his panties out of a twist according to the boys in Washington. Can you catch me up?”
“Not much to report boss. He wants to know everything we know and feels entitled to the information. Unlike your typical civie telling him that the investigation has national security implications didn’t phase him. If his secretary wasn’t such a perceptive woman, I would probably have needed to restrain him to get cooperation on interviewing the staff.”
“So he’s a real peach? Great, that’s what they don’t pay me the big bucks for.”
“Who are you kidding, we don’t do this for the money. If we did, the 80 hour weeks would have caught up to us a long time ago.”
“Touché, so on to real business, what do we know?”
“Not much, the target was here, and then somehow he figured someone was after him, and he bolted. Evidently he kissed the receptionist to hide his face and then took off. It’s not important, but the girls is dumb as a box of rocks and thinks after the one kiss Thorn left to buy her a ring. I am not sure we are going to get much here.”
“Where do you think our best lead is?”
“I have gotten nothing so far. It seems like he didn’t do much here. I think our best lead is Ashley Kauffman, according to Mr. Phillips they have a semi-secret relationship. I doubt he interacted with anyone other than her and the receptionist.”
“Ok. I am going to send down a few boots to do interviews with everyone else. I want you to interview Ashley. We need to find this guy and fast. The orders are coming from on high for this. I cannot stress enough how we need to get this guy quickly.”
“Understood. I’ll make it happen.” Silver had the confidence of a first time tightrope walker operating with no net. But he put on a brave face anyway and set out to find Ashley.
For his part Ridge was deeply agitated by the interruption to his operations. First he received a phone call at 3am ordering him to begin immediate surveillance on an accountant, then after establishing said operation he was now being tasked with coddling the subject’s boss.
A long career in government, first in the Navy, then the FBI and finally the HTTF had taught him to obey orders. It also taught him that bureaucrats, politicians and executives have agendas and those often failed to align with the operational objectives of his agency. He shook off the irritation as he approached the entrance to Ken Phillips’ office. Greeting Sabrina at her desk outside the office, he said “Hello I am Deputy Director James Ridge with the Homegrown Terrorism Task Force to see Ken Phillips. He should be expecting me.”
“Yes, right this way Director.”
James observed Sabrina with the same lascivious eye that had meant the end of three previous marriages. Undeterred, he still ogled attractive women with the ferocity of a feral teenage boy. Sabrina kept herself fit and trim, and her fashion not quite on trend, but she had a style that clearly signaled she wasn’t an old maid, nor a pretty young thing. To the casual observer, her 54 years of life could easily pass for someone in her late thirties.
Unlike many men of his age, Ridge was not interested in chasing young naive girls that could be bedded and forgotten just as quickly. He would still take that plunge from time to time, but generally, he was looking for attractive sophisticated women who took time and commitment to charm.
Like his fellow middle aged counterparts, he wasn’t Interested in a relationship. He simply preferred a woman confident in her own right. Suitable prey for him to hunt. He loved the chase, and a career in law enforcement slaked the same thirst for conquest.
“Good Morning Agent Ridge” Philips said with a broad smile and an outstretched hand. He was fully aware that he used the wrong title, as he wanted the deputy director to know up front who was in control.
Extending his own hand Ridge responded, “It’s Deputy Director Ridge, Mr. Phillips.” He allowed a long pause between the Mr. and Phillips as though he had to plumb the depths of his mind to recall the name of the man who would play such an insignificant part of his day.
There was ice in the corner office. Animus on the part of each man beneath the façade of congeneality. Speaking through a broad smile, Ridge began. “My oversight approved sharing some details with you. Last night some communications between John Thorn and a known terrorist were intercepted. The LA field office which I head was asked to begin surveillance on him and report his movements to the boys in DC.
Almost as soon as we began, he ran, and we lost sight of him. I do not know what his level of involvement, but given his skills in finance, I assume that he may be involved in funneling money to the group. The intelligence is scant, and will trickle in.
I can assure you that we take this seriously, we recognize as well the unique ways your clients could be affected be even the hint of impropriety. Unfortunately, that is all we know so far. As near as we can tell, he is not some highly trained sleeper agent, we should have him in custody quickly. Then we will get some answers.”
“Can I count on you to bring him in quietly as well? As you said, even the hint of impropriety would be severely damaging to our business and our clients.”
“We will do our best to keep matters quiet, but our focus will of necessity be on the national security concerns. I will not be withholding any tools from my agents in pursuing a swift resolution to this matter.”
“I appreciate your discretion as does Senator Highmore.”
Senator Barry Highmore was a powerbroker in Washington DC the three-term senator from Washington State, wielded powerful influence both through his role as chairman of the Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee and his remarkable fundraising abilities within the party. Highly suspected of preparing a presidential campaign in the next cycle, the politician sat on a war chest of over $250 million. In addition, his omnipotent donor network made it hard anywhere in the country to secure the party’s nomination for anything above county dog walker without his approval.
Clearly evoking the Senator’s name was meant to intimidate Ridge. It was working to a small degree, and it took a moment for Ridge to regain his composure and command of the room.
“Indeed, we will keep Senator Highmore informed. I am limited by statute from sharing details of the investigation with anyone lacking security clearance.”
Before the Deputy Director could finish his sentence, Philips interrupted. “Let me be clear, keeping me in the loop isn’t optional deputy director. I MUST be kept informed on progress. You have been personally tasked with making sure this happens. If you have not received direct orders yet, rest assured you will and very soon. I expect meaningful updates forthwith.”
The dressing down by this glorified accountant deeply offended James. He chose to go the diplomatic route. If the civilian was indeed as out of line as he appeared, he could be thoughtful in his retaliation, and if he had encountered someone truly worthy of the arrogant execution of personal power he had just witnessed, then his biting his tongue could prove advantageous down the road.
Swallowing hard on his pride, he said, “Of course, I will do my b-best.” Adding the stammer at the end was a nice touch he thought. Let him think you are sweating. No matter the outcome that could come in handy. It is never good to be properly estimated. Better Philips think him weak than to adequately estimate his own power and influence.
Standing up, and assuming a humble posture, Ridge said “I am going to go and keep things going, we will be in touch.”
With that the first skirmish in a Cold War between the two quinquagenerians ended.
The Collected Works of D. Alex Rhue 