Planned Chance, Page 3

  Chapter 3

  He settled in Virginia after his tour of duty in the military was complete, finishing his college degree in criminal justice at the nearby university, and after several low paying dead end jobs, he went to work for the FBI. It was not long before he made a name for himself in the agency, with his never-ending energy and passion; they really liked his willingness to work on any case assigned.

  Others often asked him where the source of the passion he had for the agency came from, but he would just tell them that he didn't know. He knew, however, that his passion was not for the FBI, but rather his passion was to stop the bad guys of the world, in hopes to make up for that night in Germany, years before, when he found himself impotent to help Alyse

  He had a very small circle of friends and often found it difficult to have the trust it takes to maintain close relationships. The one man that he found it easy to put trust in was Frank, who he had met in his earliest days with the agency. He was the kind of guy that would not lie to you, even if it meant sparing your feelings; a quality that Tom liked most about him. Like Tom, Frank was also in his twenties and seemed to be handsome enough to attract the women, at least judging by the number of women that his friend dated.

  He and Frank first met during a raid of a doctor's house, who had been operating a very lucrative prescription pill mill out of a legitimate family practice. During the raid on the house, one of the doc's henchmen opened fire on the agents, striking Frank in the abdomen before being killed by Tom.

  After his friend recovered from his wounds, he became like an appreciative twin brother and the two men became friends and partners. Every time one of the men switched from one area of the agency to another, the other was sure to follow, that much you could count on. Everything the two participated in professionally turned into a contest of who could catch the greatest number of bad guys, or who could bring in the largest stash of drugs, he being the winner nine times out of ten.

  It was not long before he was promoted to the rank of Sergeant and placed in charge of several high profile investigations. Two years after the promotion, he received the granddaddy of all assignments when he was placed as agent in charge of a task force overseeing an ongoing investigation into a rapid increase in terrorist activity. The people at the top were getting nervous.

  There had not been this amount of communication taking place amongst known terrorist cells since the terrorist attacks of the previous year in the United States and Canada. The death and destruction from those two attacks were the worst that either country had ever experienced. The task force did not have much information to go on, other than the intercepted communications of the terrorists, and an understanding that there could be someone inside the American or Canadian governments committing treason, in an attempt to help the terrorists. It was also understood that everyone, regardless of rank or position in the government, was a suspect and were not immune to suspicion or investigation.

  This gave the task force wide scope of authority and little resistance from those at any position; something he found refreshing. Everyone within the agency felt as if the task force was investigating them, causing the members of the team to become pariahs to the rest of the agents. This highly secret, no holds barred approach made his elite task force a close one, often spending time together on and off duty.

  The task force, which consisted of six men and two women, were staking out an old abandoned warehouse in a low-rent industrial park on the south side of the city. There was word on the street that people in business suits frequented the drug infested and pimp laden hangout on a regular basis.

  He worked hard to have a good relationship with the people living in the downtrodden parts of the city, so it was not out of the ordinary for him to receive regular information from sources. He needed only pass these sources some money for alcohol or drugs, when he received useful information, and they would remain loyal. It sometimes made him feel guilty and responsible for giving them money that he knew would be used to buy the very items that the addicts needed the least.

  Tom, Michelle, and Frank were parked outside an abandoned building in a listening van; an old telephone company van that had been refurbished to look like the local telephone company on the outside, but on the inside was well equipped with the latest technologies involved in covert operations. The three agents stealthily occupied the rear of the van that was completely closed in, so that, anyone walking by on the outside would not have a clue to the real purpose of the vehicle. The rest of his team divided themselves amongst the corners of the building out of eyesight of the van, dressed in the attire of the homeless people so that they would be anonymous and blend in with the rest of the occupants. This placement gave the team a complete visible perimeter of the entire building, and would assure that anyone going in or out of the building would be noticed by, at least, one member of the team.

  “Everyone in position,” he transmitted the question on his walkie-talkie until each member of his team replied with an affirmative response. He stretched back in his chair and so began hours of complete boredom with the lack of any type of activity pertinent to the investigation occurring outside the van. Just like every other surveillance operation in the past, small talk began amongst the three people in the van and invariably the conversation turned to the usual subject of his love life. He was unable to maintain a meaningful relationship.

  “So are you still with the blonde?” Frank asked with his eyes raised. “After all it's been about two weeks.”

  “Two weeks! That has to be some kind of record,” Michelle jokingly added.

  “No we broke it off.” He replied. “I just wasn't home enough, and she was tired of spending so much time alone and without companionship. Our relationship was made up of brief moments of physical intensity, but she wanted more from a relationship than just sex.”

  “That's why I tell my girls right from the beginning that's all they should expect out of me,” Frank said with pride.

  “How appealing, no wonder you have to go to a bar and get the girl drunk to go home with you,” Michelle smirked.

  “Don't be jealous baby, maybe a guy will actually want to go home with you someday,” Frank said with amusement.

  “Kiss my ass,” Michelle said pointing to her rear.

  “Anytime,” Frank said blowing Michelle a kiss.

  Tom suddenly became alert when he saw one of his confidential informants passing by on the sidewalk just in front of the van. He needed to talk to the man and he was confident that he could accomplish the task without blowing the teams cover. He worked his way back up to the front of the van and called the older black man, who was scruffy and dirty from lack of a bath in who knows how long, over to the front window of the van.. The homeless man was not concerned with his appearance or cleanliness, his only concern was from where his next drink would come. Tom knew that Sam’s appearance and alcoholism hid a very perceptive and intelligent man.

  “What's the word Sam?” he asked.

  “No word just minding my business and overhearing two white folk talking earlier on the second floor of this here building,” the worn man informed him.

  “The same guys that you told me about yesterday?” he asked referring to the secret meeting he and the old man had at a rundown baseball field, just a couple blocks away.

  “You won’t be seeing them there no more though.” Sam replied. “On account I overhears one man tell the other man that they can't be meeting here no more because the place is being watched.”

  He, Frank and Michelle looked at each other with anger and puzzlement, the joking that they had been engaged in earlier was over.

  “Who all knows about the stakeout?” he asked.

  “Just the director and assistant director of the agency,” Michelle answered.

  “No one is to hear about this.” “No one, I mean no one, knows our plans from now on,” he ordered, knowing that he could trust Frank and Michelle with his own life.

  “They ha
d someone else with them this time boss,” Sam added hoping to gain favor with him.

  “Oh yeah, what did he look like?” he asked.

  “He didn’t look like nothing on account that he was a she.” Sam added with a gleam in his tired old eyes. “And believes you me she was a site for these old eyes with her dark hair and olive skin; Just about got something in me to take notice, and that ain't worked in years.”

  He did not say a thing, and turned and stared off into oblivion remembering his beautiful Alyse from several years ago in Germany.

  “Well guys.” He said coming back to reality, Wrap it up, and call it a night.”

  After transmitting to the rest of the team to end the operation and head home, he paid Sam his customary twenty dollars and thanked him for his help. He was starting to leave when Sam tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. “Oh boss I almost forgot, I caught the name of the woman that was with the two men; sounded like Alice or Lisa something like that.”

  Tom, with an expression of complete surprise on his face, turned and looked at Sam, but he had already hurried off to spend his newly earned money on a pint of the cheapest liquor he could find.

  He was not a wealthy man, but he did like to live in upscale apartments, and his present abode fit him well. It was new, clean, and offered many amenities, none of which he valued more than the privacy it offered. Privacy was what he was looking for that evening as he entered his front door and turned on the lights of his clean and orderly apartment. Everything was in its proper place and it was easy to see why he was teased about having O.C.D. It was not overly neat and clean to where it was uncomfortable, nor was he afraid that a guest might mess up something. The quietness of the house made it feel even lonelier than usual, he thought, as he poured himself a glass of wine and eased back in his brown recliner that sat in the living room. He sat listening to the relaxing and soothing ambience music as he stared at a large black television screen, amused at how much he paid for the set, as well as, how much he continued to pay for cable even though he never turned the damn thing on.

  He was deep in thought trying to figure out who was the member of the agency that was playing both sides. Most of his conscience thought processes were fixed on one thing, after all, what were the coincidences that a woman matching Alyse’s description and name would cross his path again. It was not long before all of his mental and physical energies were used up by the events of the day, and he fell asleep in his chair.

  He dreamt vividly that night, and as usual, the dreams centered on Alyse. He had held her, and made love to her countless times in his dreams and tonight was no exception; he dreamt of their two bodies merging into one complete person. Something he felt lacking since their separation. He was in a full dream now, and suddenly, Alyse was lying beneath him. She arched her back as she was on the verge of release.

  “Tom,” she said.

  “Yes baby,” he answered.

  “Tom wake up,” she pleaded.

  “I am awake,” he replied, just as he realized he was no longer dreaming, but rather he was in that fuzzy world that exists between sleep and being fully awake.

  He was fully awake when he looked over in the dark corner of his living room and noticed a figure that he could not quite focus in on; he knew someone was standing there. He reached for his gun tucked away in his holster that he had taken off earlier, but the gun was no longer in its sheath.

  “Looking for this?” the figure asked as a hand emerged from the shadow with his gun dangling around one of the obviously feminine fingers.

  “What do you want?” he asked the unknown woman.

  “I need you Tom.” The voice said. "I need you to rescue me.”

  When she finished her sentence, he knew he had heard that lovely voice before, and when she came out of the shadows, he collapsed back into his chair.

  “I knew it was you,” he said excitedly.

  “I guess I have some explaining to do?” she said as a question.

  She walked over and sat next to him, placing her shaking hand on top of his, which he had rested on the arm of the chair. He could almost feel the heartbeat in her body, and felt the warmth that only she could give him.

  “Not a day has gone by without me thinking of you, not a day.” He said with lots of emotion that had been hidden inside him. “Not a day has gone by that I haven’t beaten myself up for not saving you that night in Germany.”

  “I'm sorry.” She said squeezing her hand tighter against his. “I would have come to you before now if I could have.”

  He wanted to be angry with her and wanted to question her reasoning for being in the abandoned building earlier in the day, but his feelings for her outweighed his need for answers. They sat quietly next to each other for sometime as the closeness of their bodies carried out a silent conversation with one another. It was almost as if his heart was functioning fully for the first time in years, he could feel the blood actually making its way through the chambers of his heart.

  When she felt comfortable enough, she began telling of the awful events that took place in Germany years before. She told of how she was not mistreated by her captors after they took her to a secluded house somewhere near Ansbach, Germany. “I thought I was being kidnapped for ransom money, kind of like in the movies, but that ended one night when my father single-handedly raided the house and proceeded to kill all three of my captors.”

  She told of how lonely she was, and went on to explain her father relinquishing his long-held secret of what he really did for a living. He told her of his recruitment as a spy for Canada when he was a young man, and even though he did not want to be a spy at that time, he relinquished because he had few prospects at the time. Tom could see that she was reluctant to give much more information, so he raised his hand to the side of her face and lightly brushed a strand of her hair away.

  “I've had a mark put on me Tom, they want me dead,” she said getting straight to the point.

  “Wait a minute, who wants you dead, and why?” he asked.

  “I'd rather not go into that right know.” She said as her head dropped down not looking him in the eyes anymore. “There are some things you are better off not knowing.”

  “Better off not knowing, bullshit!” He shouted loudly. “I’ve been there before, for years, I did not know if you were alive or dead. I asked myself every night did you suffer, or I asked myself what those guys put you through, so don't tell me I'm better off not knowing.”

  Her head lifted back up and she looked directly in his eyes, he could see the moisture beginning to fill the corners of her beautiful emerald green eyes. She had the ability to melt his heart and make him willing to do whatever she asked. She explained that she worked for the same Canadian Intelligence Agency as her father, and her latest assignment was to infiltrate one of the largest terror cells originating out of the Middle East. She described the group as a non-ideological group that did not care about countries, just as long as they were paid large sums of money for their services. “Which country came out on top was of no concern to this group. I had reached their inner circle, but that’s when I learned about your surveillance of the building.” 

  “See I was to have you killed last night,” her voice cracking as she realized the thought of killing him.

  She explained that the terrorists had been warned of the stakeout that was planned by the FBI, so three of them met at the warehouse earlier in the day to finalize their plan to kill the agents during the stakeout. She told of how the terrorist group’s assassins were in the process of placing a bomb under the stakeout van that he and the other agents were in during the operation. 

  “When I learned that you were in the van, I could not go through with it.” She said closing her eyes. “I told the other members of the group that their leader had canceled the operation, thereby blowing my cover. When they found out that the leader never gave such an order, my death warrant was signed.”

  She also knew that blowing her cover
probably meant serious repercussions she would have to face from the Canadian government, if they even admitted that she existed at all. A look of loneliness permeated her body and it was apparent that she had been worn down.

  “I can't wrap my mind around this right now Alyse.” He said. “Let’s just get some sleep and try to figure out this mess in the morning.”

  She walked slowly towards him, laid a very warm hand over his heart, and whispered, “Thank You,” in his ear.

  He took in the moment, hardly believing that after all this time; he was being touched by the woman he loved. All the questions and doubts about her disappeared.

  “You take my bed, I'll sleep on the couch,” he said as he motioned her towards the bedroom before settling down on the couch, watching her angelic walk as she left the room. He spent a few minutes recounting all the information that she gave him, until he came to a point that he could not think anymore and his exhaustion led way to sleep.