“Put it on the monitor, Sally.”
She did, as I fell back onto the sofa, my wings disappearing. There were eight of them, the four Swat guys, Alberton and Pippa Moran and the two security men manning the x-ray machine. They were all standing still staring at the space I’d vacated. Mouths were agape. Then one of the security men dropped to his knees and began making the sign of the cross. No one said anything. What could they say? I was grinning, so was Sally.
“That was a cluster fuck!” I said, “but it was exciting.”
“What now?”
“God, I don’t know. Wait and see what they do? I’ve given then a lot to think about.”
We both watched the 3D monitor. It was about a minute since I’d bounced out of there. Alberton was gaining some composure. He addressed the Swat team.
“This is classified, one word and you’ll be cleaning toilets, understand?” They all nodded. “Get out of here.” The team shouldered their weapons and headed along the corridor. He turned to the security guys, one was still on his knees, “same for you guys, right?” One nod, one ‘yes sir.’
“Moran!” He didn’t say anything but walked away, Pippa followed like an obedient dog.
“Should be interesting,” I said to Sally. “I wonder what they’ll do? I’m going to make some coffee, keep Alberton on the screen.”
Sally nodded.
Twenty minutes later Alberton was in the CIA Director’s office.
“You screwed up, Colin.”
“How the hell was I to know what this guy could do? I saw it and I still don’t believe it. He disappeared right before our eyes. Jesus, how’d he do that? This is outside our understanding.”
“He asked for the meeting? What could his reasons be?”
“He said he just wanted to talk.” Alberton said.
“And he contacted you through Moran’s computer. He hacked our network.”
“It would seem so, yes.”
“How the hell did he do that? Can we trace his IP address?”
“I’ve sent Moran to the tech office, they are looking at it as we speak.”
“Good. What did he say again about going east?”
“He just said ‘anymore bullshit and he’d go east.’ He didn’t say where.”
“East usually means China, Colin.”
“I realize that, sir.”
“Whatever technology this guy has, we better get it first, I don’t want to explain to the President that our handling of the situation pushed him into Chinese hands. You better get him back here and do it his way this time. I can’t see any alternative. I want to know why he wants to speak to us?”
“I don’t agree, Sir. I think we need take him, somehow. Find out what makes him tick.”
“Later, we need him to let his guard down. Seems like the thing around his waist has something to do with it. Maybe he’s some crazy genius. Whatever, we can’t let the Chinese get him.”
“No, sir.”
“Why’d he pick Moran?”
“She’s attractive.”
Sally winced.
“I’ve heard of worse reasons.”
“Work it with her, okay.”
Alberton nodded. “Get me an update by five, I’ve got to figure out how to tell the Council. They’ll think I’ve flipped.” He paused in thought, “you better get on it, Colin.”
“Switch it off, Sally, I’ve had enough.” I said, suddenly.
The monitor screen shut down. I put my feet up on the coffee table.
“Maybe I should piss them off and meet with a different country?”
“China?” asked Sally.
“No, I don’t think so. I have no idea how the Chinese would react to me. I don’t know their culture. They might shoot first and then ask questions. I was thinking the Brits, they’re pretty reasonable.”
“They do what America says.” Sally responded. “If America says ‘shit’, the British heave and strain.”
I laughed at Sally’s little joke, but I’d heard it before. She must troll every written word for these little tidbits.
“What about Ireland?” Sally said.
“Too close to home. Not exactly a world power, might make people think I have a connection, no, definitely not Ireland. The Home Secretary in England is the head of security, right?”
“Yes.”
“It’s late their now.”
“Seven P.M.”
“What’s the Home Secretary up to right now?”
“She’s in a meeting.”
“A woman?”
“Not your type, she’s in her fifties.”
“I’m in my fifties,” I smirked at Sally.
“I thought you preferred them younger, like Pippa?”
“Enough, Sally. What about her private secretary?”
Sally was quiet for a second. Searching her database, no doubt for who was the British Home Secretary’s assistant and then locating their whereabouts. I was taking this incredible database for granted. It was a true marvel that anything I wanted to know was just seconds away. We were in the internet age and data was close by via our smart phones, but my smartphone, sitting with me in my family-room was truly another dimension.
“She’s having dinner with a friend, just off Whitehall.”
“Male or female?”
“Female.”
“Two ladies,” I smiled.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Who’s the other woman?” I asked.
“A colleague.”
“Good, that would be better.”
“What about Pippa?” Sally asked. “She’ll be contacting you any minute. Isn’t she your new girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend, Sally! They can wait. It’s good to play, ‘hard-to-get,’ sometimes.”
Sally looked perplexed, the intricacies of the male mind was taxing her circuit boards.
“I need a different attire but the Jo-el face. Maybe a business suit. No wings. A different approach. Time to piss of the yanks. There must be a bathroom in the restaurant? What type of restaurant is it, anyway?”
“Italian. Bathroom in the back, currently empty.”
“Great, let’s do it.” I changed my dress into a dark grey business suit, crisp white shirt with a modern, colorful tie. My shoes were polished black, very smart. Sally bounced me into the bathroom of the Italian restaurant in the Whitehall district of London. I allowed myself a moment to check myself in the mirror, and take a deep breath, perfect, smartest Jo-el to date. With Sally’s guidance I walked out of the bathroom and headed for my encounter with the two ladies of Whitehall.
I attracted several glances as I walked down an isle of wooden booths, the patrons enjoying their pasta. The restaurant oozed garlic making my taste buds salivate. No one appeared to recognize me, which was good. The two ladies were sitting in a booth designed for four, absorbed in each other’s conversation. They didn’t see me until I stopped at the table, they both stared up and did a double take. Sally told me that the Home Secretary’s assistant was wearing a dark blue dress with an embroidered lapel. I wanted to sit opposite from her.
“May I speak to you, Mrs. Fields?” I was genuinely polite and didn’t make any move until I was asked.
There was a long pause then Maureen Fields replied, “Gosh, yes, I suppose.”
Very English.
“Thank-you.”
“You better squeeze in, don’t want to draw attention.”
Maureen’s companion scooched toward the wall and I sat down next to her. I turned to the lady and said ‘Thank-you’ again, the perfect gentleman.
Both the women studied me intently, but waited for me to speak.
“You know who I am?”
Maureen said. “You look like that man with the wings,” she kept her voice low. “You were a topic at a meeting. I presume you know who I am, this is a colleague, Elizabeth Ray?”
“How do you do,” I said to the lady next to me. “I know who you are Mrs. Fields, that’s why I’m here. My name is Jo-el. Again, thank-you for allowing me to talk to you.”
A waiter came over and asked if I was eating. Reluctantly I declined, the ladies didn’t make any effort to alter my decision.
“What happened to your wings?” Maureen asked.
“I left them at home, a bit conspicuous.”
“I see, yes, they would be. What can I do for you?”
“I would like to talk to the Home Secretary and was hoping you could facilitate a meeting?”
She studied me closely but didn’t reply.
“Why not approach her directly?”
“Security mainly, didn’t want to cause a kafuffle. You know?”
“I see, yes. Why us?”
“You mean, the Brits?”
“Yes?”
“My second choice.”
“Well that’s not bad, I suppose, for a little country nowadays. I assume you’ve approached the Americans?”
“Didn’t go well, not so far, anyway. Still working on it.”
“I see. Well the Home Secretary is very busy but I think she would make an exception. I’ll talk to her in the morning. How do I get in touch?”
“Email or text. Just Jo-el, no dot com.”
“And that works?”
“Yes, I’ll get it. But please understand I can only receive communication from people I designate. That’s you.”
“Well, I feel honored.”
I smiled, then added. “It doesn’t have to be alone, with the Home Secretary, she can invite whoever she wishes. Just not too many.”
“Right, is there an agenda.”
Oh, those Brits, so proper.
“Not really but security would be the main topic.”
“I see, good, well if you would like to stay for dinner?” But I knew she was just being polite. It would be difficult for me to just small-talk.
“Thank-you, that’s very kind, but I think it would be better if I left.”
Maureen smiled, she understood, perfectly. She was a smart lady, I liked her a lot. I stood up and offered my hand. Both ladies shook politely and I left, this time toward the front door. Once outside I changed my facial appearance enough that I wouldn’t be recognized. I was in London, it was closing in on mid-day in California, lunch was a brilliant idea. Don’t you just love the Brits.
By one o’clock California time I was back home, having thoroughly enjoyed one of England’s favorite culinary delights, Chicken Tikka Masala, that superb Indian dish invented in England. Why don’t we have any decent Indian restaurants in America? Certainly, I hadn’t found one. During lunch I avoided any contact with Sally, instead I soaked up the delight of my surroundings and afforded myself time to think.
Sally appeared just as I sat down.
“Your girlfriend has been trying to reach you.”
“Oh Maureen has set up a meeting already?”
“No, not that old bat. Pippa.”
“She’s not an old bat. In fact, I rather liked Maureen Fields, is she married?”
Sally stood up, waved her hands in the air, just like in the TV show ‘Bewitched’ and became a middle-aged lady in a dark blue business suit.
“What d’ya think?” she laughed at me.
“I think you are hilarious, Sally, but I prefer you the way you were.”
She reverted back to the image of a young Bridgette Bardot and sat back in the armchair.
“So, read me the message from Pippa.”
“There’s three.”
“Sounds like their getting their panties in a bunch!”
Sally needed the database to decipher that remark, so she ignored it. “This is the first.” She said. “‘Jo-el, we deeply regret what happened, today. We would like to meet at your convenience and on your terms. Pippa.’”
“That it?”
“Yep.”
“Short and sweet. What’s the second?”
“’Jo-el, I’m not sure if you received my email, earlier’, then she repeated the first one.”
“Did you send a reply?”
“No, should I have?”
“No, that’s okay. The last one.”
“’Jo-el, The United States Government would like to formally apologize for its conduct earlier today. Our decisions were made in haste and not well considered. We truly regret our actions and would like to have the fortuity of meeting with you at your convenience and on the terms you desire. Please respond at your earliest opportunity. Pippa.’”
I couldn’t help smiling. “I should frame that! What on earth is ‘fortuity’? I guess they didn’t want two ‘opportunity’s’ in the same paragraph. Oh, the beauty of a thesaurus. We moved from ‘deeply’ to ‘truly’, is that an improvement? What do you think?”
“I think you need to stop dissecting the email and send them a message back.”
“Oh come on, Sally, lighten up. I bet they spent an hour writing that last one.”
“Almost.”
“Ha! Doesn’t Colin have to report back to the Director at five? Less than an hour, perhaps I should respond at Five-O-one?”
“Now who’s being childish?”
“Hey, they don’t mean it anyway. It’s a pack of lies, you heard what he said to the Director. They still plan to detain me, or try to. Maybe I should wait a while, see if I get a meeting with the British Home Secretary.”
“Your reason to meet with them, Jo-el. Don’t forget that. You need a relationship with America. They’ve got the most money and have the best facilities and expertise to build the spaceships.”
“Not sure they have the most money, they’re twenty trillion in debt, a lot to the Chinese. But they do have the facilities and they are way ahead at getting things done. They will try anything, throw their heart and soul at stuff. I love that about this country. In my opinion it’s what makes them so successful. I don’t doubt that if you’re right about this bloody storm the Americans will end up saving our ass. Okay, let me think of a reply.”
I sent Pippa an email that said, ‘Pippa, I accept the apology and understand the reaction. I am still willing to meet and on reflection, based on what I have to discuss, Homeland Security should be invited. Let’s make the location a conference room at a military base, it is important to keep the meeting away from the media. No weapons. Please be aware that I have abilities that make it impossible for you to detain me. Joel.’
About fifteen minutes later I received a reply from Pippa. ‘Jo-el, thank-you for your understanding. I will get back to you with the details.’ Wow! Fifteen minutes to write one sentence, the efficiency of government.
“Sally, I need more preparation. For the Brit meeting I want a list of potential terrorist actions against the UK and maybe anything deadly in Europe, just like you showed me for the US. For both meetings I want a list of any US or UK citizens being held abroad against each governments wishes. Also, serial killers on the loose in both countries, if there are any? And finally, children or women held in captivity in each country for sexual reasons. We’re going to clean up some bad stuff.”
“You know I can provide that as you ask for it at each meeting?”
“I realize that, but it doesn’t hurt to prepare. What else am I going to do for the rest of the day, anyway.”
“Well you’ve got the cooking class tonight.”
“Oh crap! I think I’ll have to bow out of cooking classes for a while. I’ll go see Betty. By the way, what happened to the stock market today?”
“It closed up, recouped most of yesterday’s losses.”
“No news, I guess. I haven’t been seen in public. I need to keep an eye on it. Somehow we have to avoid a depression when I drop the bombshell.” Then I asked Sally. ”Did anyone see me arrive at Langley?”
“No, they had it sealed off.”
“Those guys are damn good at that, for sure.”