Part 1 – A Friend in Need
“Are you in?” Frank asked.
They were both sitting on Frank’s deck, smoking cigars. Frank Simon and Bob Salt had known each other for over forty years. They were roommates in college and both had entered the military after graduation. Frank joined the Army and Bob, not wanting to risk ground combat, had joined the Navy. It was 1979, Nine years before the end of the first Cold War.
They were both intel officers. Frank’s training was in collection and interpretation. Bob’s specialty was tracking Russian submarines. Both had Top Secret clearances and both were proud to serve their country. Last week, they were asked to serve in the second Cold War.
“I haven’t decided.” Bob Replied.
“Well, I’m in.” Frank said, as he retrieved another beer from the cooler. “Fifteen thousand a month, after taxes. I need that money.” Frank continued, “Two years and my retirement will be all set.”
“It all sounds like Bullshit to me.” Bob said, “Why us?”
Without waiting for an answer Bob went on, “Why in the world would they come to me? They have to know that I can’t stand that man.”
“And all they have to do is look at my voting record and the last few years of posts on Facebook.” Frank said, “Maybe they think that converts are better examples.”
The “Recruiters” had approached each of them and appealed to their patriotism. “Think about how much good this will do for your country.” They said.
“Can this country afford to have Davis in office for another four years?” Bob asked, “I don’t like it.”
Frank and Bob had voted for Janice Norton, the highly-favored democrat on the ticket. On election day, they were both surprised and shocked when Jefferson Davis had won. The first two years of Davis’ Presidency were riddled with scandal. Although it was obvious to most people in the country that Davis had been recruited by the Russians, a full forty percent of the voting public still supported him. No matter what he did or said, the forty percent remained strong.
“Just think about…?” Frank said, “Imagine what that money could do for your family?”
Bob was divorced and had one child in private school. He was already two month’s late on his child support. “I will have to admit, it seems like easy money.” Bob said, “All we have to do help this scumbag get re-elected.”
“That’s only an eleven percent problem.” Frank said, “So you’re in?”
Bob did not answer, but looked off in the distance. He felt like he was about to sell his soul. “Come on man!” Frank yelled as he got up from his chair and walked over to the railing of the deck.
“You’re killing me.” Bob said quietly.
“We meet tomorrow at noon.” Frank said, “We get fifty thousand each just to show up. The only catch is we have to sign a non disclosure agreement to get paid.”
“An NDA won’t matter if we get caught. “Bob said, “Let’s meet up at eleven tomorrow and I’ll let you know?”
“Sure, but listen.” Frank said, “In or out, we stick together.”
A few hours later, and slightly tipsy, Bob started the long drive home.
What used to be the Union National Insurance building, had been repurposed into a moderately expensive apartment building with various sizes of loft apartments. Bob had been in the rare group of people who were able to pre-order a loft apartment. His fifteen hundred square feet apartment cost him one hundred and seventy thousand dollars. One short year later, the apartment was valued at just under four hundred thousand dollars. He knew this because he had opened a two hundred-thousand-dollar equity line of credit, quickly spent all of that, and was now struggling to make the payments every month. He saved money by staying at home most of the time. His partying days were put on hold, hell, he was even having to cook his own meals.
As he unlocked and opened the door, the inside air seemed alarmingly cool. “Did I leave the air running this whole time?” He thought to himself, as he turned on the light and walked over to the thermostat.
“Seventy degrees?” He said confused, pressing the up button on the thermostat until it read eighty. “Got to keep this cool air inside and take advantage of it.” He said to himself, pulling string by string, until each of the eight window shades were down.
“Someone has been in here.” He thought to himself, “Maintenance?” The Maintenance man was constantly coming in for one thing or another. Most of the time he would leave a note…
He opened the door, walked into the hall, and scanned the outside of his door. There was not a note.
He stepped back in, closed, and locked the door. He took a slow drunken look around his apartment to see if anything was out of place. A few minutes later, he stripped down to his underwear, laid on the bed, and quickly fell asleep.
Part 2 – The Blue and The Grey
Several hours earlier, while Frank and Bob were cutting the ends off their cigars, a brown panel van left the secure parking lot of the Keyhole Software Group business center. Keyhole Software Group was a front for the Russian mob, which in turn was a front for the Russian Government. The FBI knew all about the Keyhole Software Group, they had been watching them for several months. A brown panel van left through the security gate. Seconds later the FBI was following in their own van. Their van was white and from the outside it looked like a banged up utility vehicle. Inside, however, it was filled with the best surveillance devices money could buy.
It was a loose tail, but it didn’t matter. All the Keyhole Software Group’s vehicles had been fitted with an undetectable GPS unit. The brown van had pulled up to on the side street adjacent to the old Union National Insurance building. The white van positioned itself a block away, with a good view of the building’s entrance.
From the back of the van, an agent dressed in a grey jumpsuit emerged. He jogged his way across the street and stepped into the old Union National Insurance building. A small patch on the front of the jumpsuit and an even larger patch on the back of the jumpsuit read “Utilities Management.” Generic enough to meet any situation. “Forth floor.” he heard someone say in his ear.
Mr. Utilities Management took elevator to the fourth floor. When he got to the forth floor, he started down the hall, passing door after door. In his ear he heard, No, No, No, then yes that’s it. He stopped in front of apartment 405, Bob’s valuable loft apartment. Mr. Utilities Management spoke into the microphone in his sleeve, “405”, he said, as he pivoted around and started back to the elevator.
Two hours later the four men in blue jumpsuits and carrying small tool bags, emerged from the building. They then jumped in the brown van and sped off down the side street.
When the brown van was out of sight, two men in grey jumpsuits, carrying their own bags, crawled out of the white van. As they walked across the street, one of the men pulled a small device from his bag and pressed a button on the device. The instruments in the white van went dead and the flat panel monitors began to flash. In room 405 they didn’t need any of their own bugs or camera’s. They would simply piggyback off the signals coming from the bugs and camera’s that had already been installed. It was stifling hot inside the apartment. One of the grey jumpsuits casually walked over to the thermostat and turned it down to seventy degrees. “Might as well work in comfort.” He thought to himself.
Part 3 – Two Agents
Frank started calling Bob at eight the next morning. Each time he called, Bob pressed the red button, and went back to sleep. At eleven o’clock, Bob finally answered the phone.
“What? He said, slightly annoyed.
“Damn man, it’s about time you answered you phone.” Frank said, “I’ve been trying to call you since eight o’clock.”
Just then Bob remembered he was supposed to meet Frank at eleven. “Sorry, I’m not quite up to par this morning.” He told Frank, “I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.”
“I’d be happy if you just opened the door.” Frank laughed nervously, “I’m already here.”
Bob opened the door. “Why didn’t you just knock?” He said, “I’m not in the mood for jokes today.”
“Sorry.” Frank said as he entered the apartment, “You won’t believe the morning I’ve had.”
“I’m sure you are going to tell me, so let’s have it.” Bob said, trying to hurry him along. Frank never did know how to get to the point.
“I had a knock on my door at four this morning.” Frank said. Bill could sense the tension in his voice. “It was the FBI.”
Scott Jordan, had been with the Bureau for two years and this was his first field assignment. Carl Stravinsky had been with the bureau for six years and Carl Stravinsky had plenty of experience in the field. Why he got stuck with this Noob, he didn’t know. If this scheme worked, they would both be heroes, however, they both agreed that if this assignment went south, they would be out of a job. Agent Jordan had the pleasure of knocking on the Frank’s door at four in the morning. “It’s a safer time than any.” Said agent Stravinsky, “They will tell us if anyone heads this way.” Little did they know, the agent monitoring Keyhole Software group, had fallen asleep at his post.
“Who the hell is it? Frank yelled, as he rolled out of bed. He picked his robe up off the floor and put it on. “Who is it?” Frank said again, as he looked through the peep hole. A man dressed in a black suit was standing on the other side of the door. The man took out his wallet and flashed his badge. Frank opened the door, but left the chain attached. “Let’s see that again.” He said, to the man in the black suit. Agent Jordan flashed his badge again, this time he held it up long enough for Frank to read. Frank was convinced and unhooked the chain from the door.
“Please go to your back door and wait for our signal.” Agent Jordan said quickly. Without waiting for Frank to reply, he turned and ran around to the back of the house. “What the fuc….” Frank’s voice trailed off as he walked to the back door. He opened the door and looked off into the darkness. From the tree line at the edge of his property, he saw a flashlight click on and off. Hesitating, he looked around so see if anyone else was there. Another flash, and he closed the door and ran toward the tree line. When he got there, he saw two men, both dressed in black, with black wool watch caps. One of the men had knocked on his door a few minutes ago.
“You know why we’re here?” said agent Stravinsky.
“Not really, but I can guess.” Frank said, straining to make the man’s face out in the dark.
“We know the Davis campaign contacted you last week.” Said agent Jordan.
Agent Stravinsky glared at agent Jordan and said quietly, “Will you let me talk, please.”
Agent Jordan held up his gloved hand, “Sorry, please proceed.”
“Thank you.” Said agent Stravinsky, as he turned back to Frank “So do we agree, they did contact you and Mr. Salt?”
“Maybe they did.” Frank answered, “Why does it matter?”
“We believe they are going to ask you to conspire with the Russian government to swing the next election in Davis’ favor.” explained Agent Stravinsky.
“Look.” Said Frank, “I’ve spent a lot of time in intel, I know when to keep my mouth closed. So, if you have a point, let’s have it.”
“We want you and Bob to go along with the scheme.” Agent Jordan blurted out.
“We want you and Mr. Salt…” Agent Stravinsky said, quickly glancing at agent Jordan, expecting another interruption. “We want you and Mr. Salt to go along with the request.”
“It looks like you guys blew it the first time.” Frank said, “It’s two years too late.”
“Look, you are already in some trouble.” Agent Stravinsky said, “ By simply meeting with the Davis campaign, you’re guilty of collusion.”
“No collusion.” Frank replied, trying his best Davis impression.
“Funny.” Said agent Jordan, “You pass the information on to Bob Salt and take the meeting this afternoon.” As he timidly looked at agent Stravinsky and added, “We’ll know if you took the meeting that you have accepted their offer.”
“Is that it?” Frank asked, nervously scanning the back yard “It’s getting light out.
Frank turned and made his way back to the rear door of his house. As he was walking he heard the two agents arguing.
“Look, Jackass.” said Agent Stravinsky, “Next time you had better keep quiet and let me do all of the talking.”
“You’re an asshole Carl.” Agent Jordan whispered back.
Frank smiled as he closed the door, “Federal Bureau of Idiots.” He thought
The two agents made their way back through the woods to the waiting car. “Do you think they’ll do it?” Asked agent Jordan.
“Yeah, they’ll do it.” agent Stravinski answered, as he opened the drivers side door “They don’t have much of a choice.”
Agent Stravinski sat in the driver’s seat and buckled his seatbelt. After a few seconds of fumbling, agent Jordan finally got his belt buckled. Agent Stravinski shook his head as he turned the key. Click, Click, Click, he heard coming from under the hood. “Damn starter.” said agent Stravinski, just before the car exploded in a blaze of light.
A few hundred yards from the explosion appeared the headlights of a brown panel van. It turned and sped away from the explosion.
Part 4 – The Agreement
“I think they’re dead!” Said Frank nervously, “The explosion rattled the windows of my house, for god’s sake.”
“Jesus Frank, what have you got us into?” Bob asked.
“I could see the fireball from my house. It looked like the whole forest was on fire.” Frank said, ignoring the question.
“Looks like we don’t have much of a choice now.” Bob said, walking to the closet to grab his coat. “We’ve got fifteen minutes until we’re supposed to meet.”
Frank stood in silence and Bob walked up to him and snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Did you hear me?” Bob whispered, “Fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah, we better get going.” Frank said absently.
They took the elevator to the lobby and walked out to Frank’s waiting car. “Here.” Bob said grabbing the car keys from Franks hand. “I’ll drive.”
A few seconds later they were on the road, driving to the National Mall.
“Ok, so we’re supposed to meet at the National Mall, close to the Smithsonian?” Asked Bob a few minutes later. “We’re going to be late. Do you have a contact number or anything?”
“They didn’t give me a number.” Frank said.
“Come on.” Bob said, “You’re a grown fucking man for god’s sake.”
Frank wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket. “Look, asshole, you weren’t there.” Frank said quietly, trying to keep his cool. “Those guys are dead. Yes, they weren’t the finest examples, but they were serving their country.”
“Whatever.” Bob said, “Just remember you got me into this shit.”
Frank pressed the call button on his phone and dialed the last number that had called him. “You guys are late.” Said the voice at the other end of the line.
“So, we’re late.” Frank Said, still upset. “We’re on our way, but we can turn around just as easily.”
“Easy man.” Bob whispered, “You don’t even know who you’re talking too.”
“We will be there in a few minutes.” Frank said, ignoring Bob. “If you’re not there then we will assume we can forget the whole thing.”
“Just make it here, quick.” Said the anonymous voice, “We don’t have all day.”
Frank disconnected the call without replying. “Ok, let’s reboot.” Frank said, “Sorry for losing my cool. Let’s just get there.”
They pulled into the Ronald Regan Building parking deck at twelve thirty.
“So, we agree that we’re going to play along, and…” Bob said. He took the ticket from the dispenser and threw it on the dash as the gate lifted.
“And what?” Frank asked.
Bob held his finger up to silence Frank. “Help me find an empty slot. It’s packed.” Bob said.
“Uh, sure.” Frank replied with a confused look on his face. “There’s one right there.” Frank laughed as he pointed to the slot near the elevator. “It’s gold Jerry, gold.” Frank said, imitating a character from the old Seinfeld show.
Bob started laughing at the joke. “Twenty years later, and it’s still funny.” Bob thought.
Bob pulled into the space and got out of the car. Frank exited the car and came around toward Bob, raising his hands to indicate a question. Bob grabbed his elbow and walked him toward the elevator. “Have you ever thought that they might have bugged your car?” Bob asked.
“Who?” Frank asked, as he turned back toward his car.
“It doesn’t really matter, we just need to play it safe.” Bob answered, “Let’s keep the conversation in the car to a minimum. Limit it to small talk.”
The walked east on Pennsylvania Avenue. At eleventh street, Bob turned north and Frank kept walking east for a few steps. Then he turned and jogged back to Bob. “We go to seventh street, don’t we?”
“We’re taking a short cut.” Bob said, “Look behind us, anyone following?”
Frank turned and looked over his shoulder. “Too busy to tell, we’re smack dab in the middle of the lunch hour.” Frank answered. “Why, did you see someone?”
“Just trying to play it safe.” Bob said, “If they have already killed two FBI agents, they won’t hesitate to kill us.”
“Jesus.” Frank said, “I take it back, I don’t need the money.”
“Too late for that, friend.” Bob said, “We’re in it now.”
“So, we agree to helping the Davis campaign, for whatever reason. Then somehow, without anyone else knowing, we contact the FBI.” Frank said.
“That about sums it up.” Bob said, panting from the long walk. “We should have taken the bus.”
“Let me do the talking.” Frank said raising the front of his shirt.
Bob saw that there was a gun tucked into the belt of his jeans. “It’s my old service forty- five.” Frank said, I haven’t fired it in twenty years. Hopefully it will stay right here.”
“In a way.” Bob said, “I’m glad you brought it. Let’s hope it still fires.”
It was a quarter past one when they finally got to the Smithsonian. The stopped, out of breath, and looked around. From a few hundred feet away, they saw two men dressed in expensive suites. The two men turned and started walking towards them.
Part 5 – Collusion = Conspiracy
Bob could tell that the two men had some sort of paper in their hands and as they walked toward them. They were passing the paper out to people as they walked by. When they got to Bob and Frank they gave Bob a pamphlet titled MASA, Make America Strong Again. They also pinned a MASA button to each of their shirts before they continued their walk down the street. A yellow envelope was stapled to the back of Bob’s pamphlet.
“Not a very thought out slogan for his re-election.” Frank said. “Everyone already knows Davis is a racist. This MASA line is kind of insulting, when you think about it.”
“Let’s find a quiet place to sit.” Bob said, looking around the square “It’s time for lunch, surely there’s a diner around here.”
“The Wicked Waffle should be around here somewhere…if I remember correctly, it’s on I street.” Frank said, grabbing Bob by the arm turning him around. By the time they had walked the mile to the “Wicked Waffle”, it was two o’clock and both were dead tired.
“Remember when we used to meet at the track and run three miles every day?” Frank asked as they approached the Wicked Waffle. At two o’clock the Wicked Waffle was still crowded.
“Yeah, well, we’re old now.” Bob said panting, “You had to pick a tourist hangout? What part of quiet don’t you understand.”
“Hey,” Frank chuckled, “They have a wicked waffle club sandwich.”
The Wicked Waffle is a small place with outside seating. The orange and white checked sign read “Soups, Sandwiches, and More.” At least twenty people had crowded into the small ordering area to get out of the afternoon heat.
“Quick, Grab that table.” Frank said, as he pointed to the only empty table on the patio. He pushed Bob toward the table. “I’ll order for us. Coffee?”
“In this heat?” Bob asked rhetorically, “Get me a diet coke, I hear it’s Davis drink of choice. Might as well stick with the theme.”
Bob sat down facing the door as Frank pushed his way into the restaurant. Hiding the pamphlet under the table, Bob removed the envelope and opened it. Inside was a note, two small ear pieces that looked like hearing aids, and a small stack of one hundred dollar bills. The strap around the stack of money read two thousand dollars. He slid the ear pieces and money back into the envelope and peeked at the note.
“Your MASA buttons have been equipped with a small microphone, you can hear us with these small receivers.” The note read.
Bob pulled one of the ear pieces from the envelope and flipped a tiny switch that must have been the power button. He placed the receiver in his left ear and winced at the feedback. Then he heard two taps in his ear. “Can you hear me?” asked the anonymous voice.
“Yes.” Bob said, holding the MASA button close to his mouth. “I can hear you.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Said the anonymous voice, “It looks a little obvious.”
“Oh, ok.” Bob smirked as he tapped on the MASA button. “Can you hear me?”
Wincing at the loud thumps in his ear, anonymous voice said, “Yes I can hear you.”
“What’s up?” Bob asked. “You know I’m black, right? I’m offended by this fucking MASA button. I won’t be wearing it past this afternoon. Better get me another microphone.”
“Oh, ok.” anonymous voice said, “We’ll work on that.” Bob heard snickering.
“First thing’s first.” Said anonymous voice two.
“The comedian.” Bob said to himself, committing to memory the ass kicking, anonymous voice number two had coming.
“If you are agreeing to help us, then we’ll continue.” anonymous two said, “If not get up right now and throw the envelope in the nearest trash container. We’ll retrieve it later.”
Bob looked around the patio, trying to locate the two men. He felt sure they were watching him. “I think we’re in.” Bob said.
Frank returned to the table with two baskets of food and two diet cokes. One diet coke tucked into each armpit. “Here you go.” Frank said, setting a basket in front of Bob “You’re going to love this.”
Bob held up his hand indicating that Frank should be quiet and tapped on his MASA button again. “Will you stop doing that?” anonymous voice one said. “It’s annoying.”
“Get to the point.” Bob said, “We’re hungry.”
“First thing you need to do is to take the cash and buy two laptops from Electric Warehouse.” anonymous two said, “You’ll find the address on the bottom of the note.”
Bill glanced at the bottom of the note. Sure, enough in light yellow print was an address. “Ok, that’s easy enough.”
“You should get there at ten o’clock tomorrow morning and ask for Todd.” Said anonymous two. “And, Bob, don’t be late.”
“What’s up?” Frank asked in a whisper.
Bob held up his hand again. “Tell Todd you want the Eye’s Front, security software installed on both laptops. Todd will set you up.”
Eye’s Front was the newest security software offered by the Keyhole Software Group. It was supposed to be state of the art, but sales had declined recently. A news reporter had found that The Keyhole Software Group, a Russian based company, might be using the Eye’s Front software to spy on American citizens. The report had been labeled a left-wing conspiracy by the conservative media giant, WSLE Cable News. Progressives had recently taken to calling the WSLE news network “Weasel” News.
“That’s it for now.” anonymous voice one said. “We’ll contact you once you secure the two laptops.”
“Sure thing.” Bob said, as he stood up. “Great, the fucking Russians.” he thought as he ripped the MASA button from his shirt and did the same with the button on Frank’s shirt. He held both buttons up over his head, walked to the nearest trash can, and tossed them in.
“Hey, this is a new shirt.” Frank said, looking at the hole the button had made when Bob pulled it from his shirt. Frank grabbed the yellow envelope and looked inside. “Two thousand dollars?” He asked, “By my count they owe us ninety- eight thousand dollars.”
“You know Davis don’t like paying his bills.” Bob smiled, “Let’s eat.” Bob took a napkin and thoroughly wiped his diet coke can clean. “You had to carry this in your sweaty armpit?” He asked Frank.
Part 6 – A long drive.
Frank picked Bob up the next day at 6:15 am. Electric Warehouse was located all the way out in Maryland. It would take at least two hours to get there. Then factor in morning rush hour traffic, add another hour. “I figure if we get their early, we’ll just grab some breakfast.” Frank explained as he pulled away from Bob’s building.
“Do we need to talk about what happened yesterday?” Asked Frank.
Bob held his finger up to his lips. “Good weather for a drive.” Bob said, smiling at his poor choice of small talk. He took a small notepad and pen from his shirt pocket and wrote. “Remember, this car is probably bugged.” And showed the note to Frank.
Frank nodded. “Russians! I’ll bet your house is full of tiny electronic devices by now. You should do a walk around when you get back.” Bob wrote. He could tell Frank was annoyed at the idea.
“I found at five bugs and two cameras in my apartment last night.” Bob held the notepad so Frank could read it.
“That’s fucked up!” Frank blurted out, then placed a hand over his mouth.
Bill Laughed, “Yeah, they have been working on this road for months.” He said, “I’m going to close my eyes for a few. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Bill slouched down in his seat and pulled his ballcap over his eyes. In a few short minutes, he was asleep.
Frank did not mind the silence, he needed this time to think. “How are we going to get out of this mess?” He thought. For the next few hours he went over scenario after scenario in his head. Every time he thought he had a solution, he would quickly come up with another problem. Eventually it got too complicated to keep up with and he let his mind go blank.
“Hey, we’re here.” Frank said, as he poked Bob’s arm. “Wake up Snow White.” He added snickering.
“Funny.” Bob said, sitting up in his seat. “How long was I out?”
“Almost three hours.” Frank answered, pulling into the Sonic parking lot. “I figured we could eat in their courtyard.”
“You know black folk don’t eat at sonic, right?” Bob asked with a serious face.
“What?” Frank asked concerned, “Why not?”
“I’m fucking with you man.” Bob said smiling. “Snow White, remember paybacks are hell?”
Frank pulled up to the speaker and looked at Bob silently asking what he wanted. “Two breakfast burritos and a large cherry limeade.” Bob said.
“Four breakfast burritos and two large cherry limeades.” Frank said into the speaker, “Extra salsa please.”
A few minutes later they had their food and Frank had parked the car. They walked over to the small seating area in front of the building. The tables were littered with trash. Bob walked over to the window, got the attention of the clerk, and pointed at the table. Almost immediately a young girl wearing skates appeared. “Sorry about that.” She said, skating to the table. She gracefully gathered the trash and with her free hand wiped the table down. Then she skated backward toward the trash can and dumped the trash.
“Good one.” Frank said, giving her the thumbs up.
“Too young for you.” Bob whispered.
“What?” Frank asked, “I didn’t mean anything.”
They sat at the clean table and waited in silence while the skater worked on cleaning the other two tables. When she skated back to the building, Frank said. “I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t think we are getting out of this without going to jail, or even worse, getting killed.”
“Keep you cool Frank.” Bob replied, “We haven’t even done anything yet.”
“And I’m not about to do anything else until they give us that ninety- eight thousand dollars.” Frank said, “Better yet, one hundred thousand. Fuck the Russians, why should these laptops come out of our end?”
“We need to show a united front when we meet Todd.” Bob answered, “We can insist that he makes a few phone calls.”
They finished eating, threw their own trash away and walked back to the car. Bob was still carrying his drink. As they got in the car Frank said. “Don’t spill that in my car. I don’t want to get bugs in my car.” Bob nearly sprayed cherry limeade out of his nose as he stifled his laugh.
Part 7 – How do I work this?
Turns out they were only a few hundred yards from the Electric Warehouse. Frank parked at the far end of the parking lot and they started walking. “I’ll bet those suites are watching us right now.” Bob said, as he casually scanned the parking lot.
“They better have some fucking money on them.” Frank said a little louder than normal, thinking that if they were watching they could also hear him.
“Is Todd around?” Bob asked the cashier.
The cashier smiled and made an announcement on the loud speaker. “Todd, please come to the front.” A few seconds later a tall lanky nerd of a man appeared behind Frank.
“We need two laptops with Eyes Front software.” Bob said quickly, as if he were already tired of the spy verses spy bullshit.
Todd smiled and said, “If you will follow me to the sales desk, we’ll try to help you out.”
“Since when was it cool to a nerd?” Bob asked himself, staring at the man bun on the back of Todd’s head.
Back at the sales desk Todd went behind the counter. He grabbed two laptop boxes from under the counter and placed them near the register.
“Two things before we take these.” Frank said. First there’s a little matter of one hundred thousand dollars.” He whispered. “Second, we need to know how to work these laptops.”
“This should have everything you need.” He said, “It’s all pre-loaded. Pretty much plug and play, so to speak.” Todd tapped the top of one of the laptop boxes. “Everything you need, right here.”
“Ok…” Bob said, thinking that he knew what Todd was inferring. “How much do we owe you?”
“Comes to…” Todd started pressing buttons on the register, “Would you look at that, exactly two thousand dollars to the penny. Can’t get much better than that.”
Bob took the stack of bills out of his front pocket and handed it to Todd. Todd quickly counted the money and said, “Looks like you’re one hundred dollars’ short gentlemen.”
“Tell the suits that they just bought us breakfast.” Frank said, as he snatched the receipt from the register.
“I don’t like those guys.” Todd said into his headset microphone, as if someone were listening. “Assholes.”
Frank tossed the car keys to Bob and got in the passenger’s seat with one of the laptop boxes. Bob placed his box in the back seat and started the car.
As they were pulling out of the parking lot, Frank opened one of the boxes and smiled. Inside the box, where the Styrofoam would have been, were twenty-five stacks of hundred dollar bills.
“Woo Hoo!” Frank yelled, “Hundred dollar bills ya’ll” he added, trying to get Bob to laugh.
Bob said through his laughter, “You’re an idiot.”
The drive back to Bob’s apartment took far less time than the trip out. As they entered Bob’s apartment, Frank quickly walked over to the table and opened one of the laptop boxes again. He took the money from the box and carefully stacked on the table. Then he removed the laptop. Taped to the top of the laptop was a note that read; “Turn me on.” Bob walked to the table as Frank plugged in the laptop and pressed the power switch. After a few seconds, Todd’s hipster face appeared on the screen. Todd started to speak but no sound was coming from the laptop.
“Turn it up.” Bob said as he grabbed a chair and sat in front of the screen, next to the already seated Frank.
“…thng you need to know is inside this laptop.” Said Todd’s face, “Feel free to replay this video until you’ve learned all there is to know.”
Todd’s face continued, “You need to know is that I can access either of these laptops remotely without your knowledge. The first thing I will do is take over your Facebook account.
“Don’t worry, you will still be able to access all of the content, posts, and photos. I will be posting different video’s and links in your name. It is most important that you do not contradict what I post. I will slowly transition each of you into a Davis supporter.
“I will communicate with each of you through draft emails. The way it works is this: I will type an email, but I won’t send it. Instead, I will save it as a draft. You will be able to read the draft email and respond with your own draft.
“This will make it harder for anyone to gain copies of these emails. After you read the draft delete it and start another email. It is important that you do not send any email during this time. You should use your cellphone to communicate with voice or text.
“You will receive fifteen thousand dollars a month as a member of the campaign staff. You may be asked to make public addresses or commercials during this time. Especially you, Bob.
“It is really important that you pay attention to what I say next. Inside each laptop is a magnesium plate. I can ignite this plate at any time. You can initiate a short timer by pressing Ctrl, Alt, and the letter D for thirty seconds.
“You should do this only in an emergency. If I initiate the self-destruct, you will see smoke coming from the laptop. You should leave the area immediately because more than likely, the lithium battery will explode from the extreme heat.”
“Smart fucker, isn’t he?” Frank whispered.
Todd’s face continued, “You will receive your first set of instructions within one week. If the email draft has been deleted then I will take it that you understand what you are being asked to do.”
They had reached the end of the video and the laptop reset to its desktop view. Frank closed the laptop and switched it off.
“Good.” Bob said. “You keep that thing switched off when you are not using it. Odds are you will see it switch on when Todd takes control of the laptop.”
“Look,” Frank said as he repacked the laptop box, money, and all, “I’m beat, and I still need to look around my house…” he stopped mid-sentence. “You know.” He whispered.
“We still need to contact the…” Bob said, as he wrote the letters F B I, in the wax on top of the table. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Frank flashed the OK sign at Bob and walked out to his car. Little did they know, but the FBI had been listening to everything. Agent number three, Molly Adams, would be contacting them tomorrow.
Part 8– Agent Three
The morning news was reporting that Davis’ lawyer, Darren Franklin was now cooperating with the special counsel’s office. Mr. Franklin had pled guilty to campaign finance violations and was spilling the beans. According to Mr. Franklin, Davis had directed him to silence several mistresses by paying them various sums of money. Talking heads at WSLE news were calling Franklin a traitor and a rat.
Frank was watching this breaking story when he decided to check his new laptop for any messages. He clicked on the draft email folder and saw that the hipster had left the following message:
“Penn Rally 10am background”
Frank had no idea what the hipster was trying to say. At the bottom of the draft, Frank wrote “?? – F”, and pressed the save icon.
Frank placed a small piece of electrical tape over the laptop’s camera lens and left the laptop running while he took a shower.
Across town Bob was busy flirting with Heather, a young barista at his local Starbucks. “You know I’ve been coming here for over two years now.” Bob said, taking his large iced raspberry latte. “I still don’t have your number.”
“Oh, that’s sweet Bobby.” Heather said as she patted his hand, “But you’re much to mature for me. What would my daddy say?”
Bob knew she meant he was too old for her. “You don’t know what you’re missing.” He whispered, as he turned toward the door. On his way out, he passed a tall attractive woman, stirring her coffee, at the condiment station. “Nice legs.” He thought, as he walked out the doors.
Meanwhile, Frank, finished with his shower, was reading the hipster’s explanation.
“This Tuesday, Davis is holding a rally in Pennsylvania. He wants you and Bob to appear onstage, behind him. We’ll contact you with further instructions.” The hipster had added to the bottom of the draft.
Frank was confused. He had thought that after this morning’s news, Davis would be preparing his resignation speech. He deleted the draft and closed the laptop.
Agent Adams was a tall woman. In her stocking feet, she was six feet-two inches tall. She had brown shoulder length hair and a large, but proportional face. She had broad shoulders and large breasts, but not too large for her body. She thought her most flattering feature were her long legs. She didn’t care for flats, which most tall women opt for, she liked heels. She liked the way two inch heels made her calves look thinner. It did not matter that it added to her height.
She was dressed in a light gray silk blouse that hung loose at the waist. A dark blue blazer covered the blouse. Her matching skirt came just above her knees and she had chosen her light grey, two inch heels. Tucked in the back of her skirt was a standard issue Glock.
Agent Adams had been watching Bob Salt all morning. She had already surmised that Bob must be a well know player in the neighborhood. His slow scan of her legs on his way past her had given her a slight shiver. She replaced the lid on her coffee and followed Bob outside.
They made eye contact immediately. Agent Adams started to wonder what Bob Salt was like in bed. She smiled as she passed and knowing he was watching her, she dropped one of her cards on the table. Then she walked across the street to her waiting car.
Bob had noticed the tall brunette the moment he walked in Starbucks. He knew right away that she was a government agent. He made sure she caught him looking at her as he made his way out of the Starbucks. He also made sure she saw him staring as she followed him out. His experience had told him that women liked his smile, so he flashed her a smile as she passed. He did not notice she had placed a card on the table, until she was in her car. He picked up the card. It read; Molly Adams, Federal Bureau of Investigations. At the bottom of the card was an office number. He turned the card over and on the back of the card was another hand written- number. Bob presumed it was her cell phone number. She had placed a small heart at the end of the number.
Agent Adams knew she had Bob’s attention. She thought the small heart on the back of her card was a nice touch. She knew how to play a player. She started her car and drove one block away and parked with a clear view of the Starbucks patio. She picked up her field glasses and looked Bob’s way. He was staring at her, and she cracked a smile. “He’s good.” She thought to herself, “I wonder where he got his training?”
Part 9 – The Spy Killer
Frank called Bob and arranged to meet him at noon for lunch. “More waffles?” Frank asked.
“Let’s make it something local.” Bob said, “I’m not up for a long drive. Don’t forget to ask me about my new friend.”
They agreed to meet at a local burger joint. “Bring your laptop.” Frank told Bob. “I also want to talk to you about some sort of backup plan.”
Bob drove to a local drug store and bought a trac phone. He activated it and called agent Holly Adams office number. He did not want to call her cellphone until after they met.
Chief Marshall Ivan Ivanovich and Colonel Nickolay Petrov were both agents of the GRU, Russians secret service, what remained of the old KGB. It is rumored that the GRU has closer ties to the Russian mob than to the Russian government. It did not matter. Everything has a connection in Russia and it all leads back to Putin.
They were parked outside Frank’s apartment and had heard he and Bob make plans to meet for lunch. On a notepad, Ivan wrote the words “New Friend?”
“Amerikantzy zhopa.” Said Nickolay, as he took off his headphones. “Po obschemu mneniya umnyy”
Ivan slapped Nickolay’s shoulder and said, “Speak English Nickolas, you need the practice.”
“American fool.” Nickolay repeated in English, “I thought Americans were supposed to be smart.”
“Good, good.” Said Ivan, “You are doing much better.”
“There he is now.” Nickolay said as he pointed to the front window of the van. Frank had just passed the van on his way to the car. Frank made a mental note about the brown van.
“Was that the first time I’ve seen this van.” Frank asked himself, as he started his car. He took another quick peek in his rearview mirror. “Paranoid.” He said to himself.
After Frank drove off, Ivan and Nicolay exited the van. They walked around to Frank’s back door and picked the lock. Inside, they did a quick check of Frank’s laptop. Ivan ripped off the piece of electrical tape and showed it to Nickolay. “He must be a fool.” Ivan said, “He thinks this little piece of tape will stop us. Look here.” Ivan pointed to the ceiling fan. “Davis’ people have installed a camera here, and over there.” He pointed to the clock over the fireplace.
Nickolay pulled the electrical tape from Ivan’s finger and placed it back over the laptop camera. He then took a thumb drive from his pocket and plugged it into the laptop usb port. “This backup will take about thirty minutes.” He explained to Ivan.
Ivan threw up his hands in frustration and looked into the camera on the ceiling fan. “Let’s see what this zhopa has to eat.” Ivan walked into Franks kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “This looks promising.” He said as he removed a large pot from the top shelf. He sat the pot on the counter and opened the lid. “Good god.” He yelled, as he quickly placed the lid back on the pot. “This stinks.”
Nickolay walked to the kitchen, held his breath, and opened the lid on the pot. Inside the pot was leftover soup that had been in Frank’s refrigerator for the past two months. A small circle of mold was floating in the center of the pot. “What a pig.” He said, “He can’t throw anything out?” Nickolay threw the lid back on the pot and opened the refrigerator door. He took a diet Coke from the box inside the refrigerator and handed it to Ivan. “We better just share this one.”
Ivan opened the diet Coke and walked over to the laptop. “Twenty-seven minutes.” He said as he tapped the laptop screen. “Hurry up already.”
“Franky really is a pig.” Nickolay said, as he looked around Frank’s Livingroom. There were at least five old pizza boxes stacked on his coffee table along with dirty plates and silverware. He had a stack of old junk mail at least a foot high on one of the end tables.
“Disgusting.” Ivan said as he took a drink of the diet Coke, brushed crumbs from the seat of Franks recliner, and sat down.
Frank had driven about halfway to Bob’s apartment when he noticed he did not have his wallet with him. “Damn it.” He said, “I’m going to need that.” He did a turned around at the next intersection and headed back to his house. The van was still there when he pulled into his driveway.
“Damn it.” Nickolay said, “The fool is back.”
“What?” Ivan said. “Why is he back here?”
Nickolay began running through the house looking for a place to hide. “Might as well introduce ourselves.” Ivan said. “It’s too late.”
Frank opened the door and saw the two men standing in the middle of his living room. He started fumbling with the back of his jeans and drew his old service revolver.
“What the fuck?” Frank said, “Why are you in my house?”
Ivan had stood up and was holding the diet Coke out to Frank. “We’re with Davis.” He said finally, with a thick Russian accent. Nickolay went to stand beside Ivan, both had their hands raised toward Frank.
“Calm down friend.” Nickolay said, “We’re just updating laptop.”
“Get back.” Frank yelled at the two men. He was walking toward the laptop and waving the two men toward the kitchen. “You don’t sound like you work for Davis.” He said. “I know a Russian accent when I hear it. Don’t move.” Both Russians had backed through the kitchen doorway. Frank looked at the thumb drive and pulled it from the laptop.
“No.” Nickolay yelled, “You idiot. Now we have to start all over again.”
Frank slid the thumb drive into his front pocket. “We’ll just make a quick…” Suddenly the forty five kicked in his hand. A bullet hole showed up in the pot on the counter and rotten soup started pouring all over Ivan’s shoes. The stink was horrible. It smelled like moldy limburger cheese.
“God damnit.” Ivan said, the bullet had just missed him. “Put that piece of shit down.” He yelled.
Nickolay was reaching for the gun inside his jacket and Frank fired two more shots. This time it was intentional. The first bullet hit the side of the refridgerator, but the second hit the target. A geyser of blood exploded from Nickolay’s throat. Ivan dropped the diet Coke and reached for his weapon. Another shot. Ivan felt the wind rush from his lungs as he fell to the floor. Nickolay had just enough time to look at Ivan’s body before he also lost consciousness and fell to the floor.
Frank dropped the forty-five and instinctually glanced at the camera hidden in the ceiling vent. “Holy shit.” He yelled, “What the fuck just happened?”
He pulled a chair from the dining room table and sat facing the kitchen. There were two dead Russians lying on his kitchen floor, in a pool of blood, rotten soup, and diet Coke . He put a hand over his mouth and a spray of vomit shot through his fingers. The phone started ringing.
Part 10 – Meeting the Feds
At a quarter past eleven, Bob was sitting in a corner booth at Hubcap’s. Hubcap’s was a new burger joint that opened within walking distance from Bob’s apartment. Hubcap’s was designed in a fifties retro fashion, with a long ice cream bar doubling as the ordering counter. The tables were chrome with red table tops. The chairs and booth seats were done in red vinyl. Bob had a cup of coffee that the waitress had just delivered. “What else can I get you.” She asked, purposely popping her chewing gum.
Bob smiled and said, “Nothing right now. I am meeting some friends. They should be here soon.”
The waitress sat in the seat opposite Bob. “Have I seen you in here before? She asked, “You look familiar.”
“First time.” Bob answered, “Looking forward to one of those big hubcap burgers.”
“So, I should get a doggie bag ready.” She smiled and stood up. “There’s no way you can eat all of that by yourself.” She walked away and disappeared behind a pair of swinging doors.
A few minutes later Molly Adams walked in the restaurant. There was a stiff wind outside and as she walked to the table she was running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten out the mess. “It’s a hurricane out there.” She said as she slid in the seat next to him. She turned toward Bob and offered her hand. “You don’t mind, do you?” She asked, “I don’t want anyone to overhear our conversation.”
“Not at all.” Bob said, feeling her warm thigh next to his. “You’re the boss.”
“I like that.” She said, “I am the boss.” Then without missing a beat she got right to the point. “Two of our agents are already dead.” She smiled nervously, “I don’t plan to be the third.”
“So, what Frank told me is true.” Bob said quietly, “Some sort of explosion?”
“I would say so.” Molly answered, “You could see the fireball from miles away. Seems like someone was trying to send Frank a message.”
“Where does Davis get that kind of firepower.” Bob asked. “I mean, I know he’s the president, but you just don’t get that kind of explosive off the street.”
Molly stood up and slid around the table so she could face him. Even seated, she was a few inches taller than he was. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite a mess.” She whispered. Just then the waitress appeared and slid a menu to her.
“We’re still waiting on one more.” Frank told the waitress. He watched her walk away and suddenly, behind Molly’s back, she turned and gave Bob two thumbs up. He smiled and focused his attention back on Molly. “Yes, I guess I have.” He said, “I’m a dumb ass.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Molly said, “You’ve got some finance problems and this was a way to get your head above it. Believe me, I’ve seen worse.
“Yeah, but still.” Bob said, his voice cracking. “I betrayed the country I love.”
“A sensitive man.” Molly said quietly, “Rare these days.” She placed her hand on his. “Thank god my hands are not bigger than his.” She thought, and removed her hand.
“Bob should have been here by now.” Frank said, changing the subject. “I should give him a call.” The retro clock on the wall read a quarter past twelve.
Bob called Frank’s cell number. It rang several times before Frank picked up. “Where the hell are you Frank?” Bob asked, whispering into the phone.
“Holy shit. Bob?” Frank said with urgency in his voice, “You’re not going to believe this shit. Do you hear me?”
“Calm down man.” Frank said, “I’m on my way.”
Molly looked at him confused. “I have to go, Frank sounds like he’s in trouble.”
Just then Molly’s phone started ringing. She held a finger up to Bob, indicating that she wanted him to wait. “Shit”, She said, as she listened, turning her back to Bob. “Got it.” She said and disconnected the phone.
Molly turned and again focused on Bob. “Got to go.” he said finally.
“Don’t worry Bob, we won’t be too far behind you.” Molly said.
“Thanks, and it was really nice to meet you.” Frank said and left the restaurant.
Part 11 – Cleanup on Aisle Five
Minutes later Bob knocked on Frank’s door. “What’s going on? He asked as Frank ushered him in. “Where did all of that blood come from?” Frank did not realize that he was covered from head to toe with Nickolay’s blood.
“Oh, shit Bob.” Frank said, with panic in his voice, “I killed them, I killed them.” Frank added. Frank reminded Bob of the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, running around telling everyone how late he was. Frank walked to the dining room and pointed to the kitchen. Bob walked into the kitchen and calmly walked back to Frank.
Bob took the trac phone from his pocket and dialed Molly’s number, “We’ve got a serious problem over here.” Frank heard him say. Seconds later Molly knocked on the rear door of Frank’s house. Bob walked over and opened the door. Molly was holding an electronic device in her left hand and her Glock in her right hand. She switched the device on with her thumb and a shrill note filled the house. Molly set the device on top of the stack of pizza boxes and quickly searched the house to make sure no one else was there.
“Who is she?” Frank asked Bob, trying to speak over the deafening tone. Molly placed her Glock back in its holster and grabbed Bob’s arm. She led him out the rear of the house, with Frank in tow. Frank closed the door behind them.
“That device is meant to disrupt any electronic device inside a two hundred feet area.” She explained, “I assume you know that your house has been bugged?”
“Sure?” Frank said, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans. “Won’t come off.” he chuckled nervously.
“I’m Agent Adams she said flashing her badge, “FBI.”
“Ok.” Frank said, “I just killed two Russians in my kitchen.”
“We know, we saw the whole thing.” Molly said. “We’ve got a cleanup crew on the way.” She paused and then added, “Problem is, the GRU also saw what happened.”
“Might as well call them the Russian mob.” Bob said, “Where’s the gun?”
“I left it on the kitchen counter.” Frank answered. “Didn’t know what else to do with it.”
“We’ve got a van on the way.” Molly continued, “When the van gets here, we will get inside.” “She placed her hand on her ear and said, “Let’s make sure both entrances to the street are blocked.” She said, “We don’t want any visitors. Oh, and make sure the cleaners remove all of the cameras and bugs from the house.”
Frank grabbed Bob’s shoulder and wheeled him around. “I killed them, Bob.” Frank said, with a wavering voice. “It was an accident.” From overhead, a black helicopter appeared. It stopped and hovered over Frank’s house.
“Shit.” Molly said and ran back into Frank’s house. A few seconds later she returned, holding the disruption device. She had switched the device off. “Theoretically this thing can bring a helicopter down.” She explained, “We don’t need that. Besides, all of the secrets are out anyway.”
The three of them walked to the front of the house and stood waiting for a few minutes. Finally, a white van pulled up behind the brown van. Four men, wearing blue jumpsuits jumped out of the back of the white van. One of them pulled a large linen cart from the van and started pushing it toward Franks front door. Two of the other men followed the first inside Franks house and the forth jumped in the brown van and drove it away. “After you.” Molly said, pointing to the back of the van. She followed them inside the van and closed the door.
Part 12 – Staying Alive
There were two stools and a small jump seat in the van. Molly sat on the jump seat. Frank and Bob sat on the stools. Both had spun to face Molly. “You’re looking at a couple of dead men, aren’t you?” Bob asked.
“A little too dramatic, Bob.” She smiled, “But I won’t sugar coat it. Your lives, as you knew them, are officially over.” She grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and handed it to Frank. “Drink this, it will make you feel better.”
Bob had been glaring at Frank, “I don’t know why we’re even friends.” He thought, “He’s gotten me into so much shit.” Then he realized that his hands were balled into fists. He opened his hands and placed them on his thighs as he exhaled. “Knowing Davis, he’ll throw the full weight of his office behind shutting us up.” Bob finally said, “There’s no telling what he would stoop to.”
“I wouldn’t worry about Davis.” Molly said, “It doesn’t leave this van, but Davis is soon to be history.” She paused, noticing the confused look on Frank’s face. “Impeachment.” She finished.
“I assume we’ll have to testify?” Bob asked.
“Not necessarily.” Molly replied, “We already had enough on Davis before his people approached you two. We’re only going to use you if things go south. Never know with this Congress.”
“Davis’ problem is he doesn’t know when to stop fucking up.” Bob said. “What now?”
“They broke into my house.” Frank said, still in shock, “It was self- defense.”
Molly placed a hand on his knee. “You took the first shot.” She said, “Mind explaining why?”
“I been carrying my old service forty-five since this whole thing started.” Frank answered, “Damn thing misfired. Then one of them went for his gun. I didn’t have a choice.”
“I should have told you to get rid of that thing the moment I saw it.” Bob said. “It’s a piece of shit.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Molly offered, “That piece of shit could have saved you friends life. We suspect that these two are the ones who rigged Carl’s car to explode.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong.” Frank said, “If they work for the Russian government, wouldn’t that be an act of war?”
“We’ve been at war with them for the past two years.” Molly answered, “As soon as they interfered in the election and got that fool Davis into office. I like to call it the second cold war.
What you have to worry about is the Russian mob. They like revenge and they like to serve it up cold, like their soup.” She added.
Molly placed her hand to her ear again. “Good, good.” She said, “Go ahead and close that sucker down.”
“They just finished raiding the Electronic Warehouse, all of them.” Molly explained, “We’re chaining the doors to protect the goldmine.”
“Goldmine?” Bob asked, “What is that?”
“The Electronic Warehouse if a front for the Russian mob.” Molly answered, “They have ten stores in all, each of them supporting their espionage effort, and each of them loaded with evidence.”
“So now we just have to concentrate on staying alive.” Frank interjected, “What’s next?”
“You need to be debriefed.” Molly said, “We’re on the way to the office.”
General
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