Chapter_00

A Chapter by Benji Wulf

“Where were you last night?”

“That’s so long ago, I don’t remember.”

“Will I see you tonight?”

“I never make plans that far ahead.”

Click. Leopold Dvorak puts an end to the Casablanca rerun on Turner Movie Classics. He would not own a television, if it were not for insomnia. He refused to take sleep aids and through his own stumbling realized the hypnotic effects of late night television. In fact, there was not a pill he ingested habitually outside something to curve an occasional cold. Not vegetarian nor vegan, Leonard had the simple belief that anything that could be mind altering could be and should be avoided. He did not drink or smoke, even avoided coffee. All he allowed himself was green tea and mineral water, to which he was picky. Green tea was not to been enhanced by unnatural flavoring and his water was only to be natural carbonated, such as San Pellegrino or Pierre. He paid for organic foods when it made sense. Not following any credo, he had no agenda to further. He simply was a good observer and applied his learning to his own life.

**********

The story, just made public via The Guardian newswire, exposed the agency. Dubbed Project Cinderella, Leopold Dvorak once fostered the project. At age 43, he was neither middle management nor an outdated programmer. Leo was just the bridge between top intelligence and those that rolled up their sleeves.

In the impromptu meeting, all those in attendance were on mute. Though small chat and bickering took place, Leo instinctively canceled sin waves vibrating through the air with his trained professionalism. He warned the director about “risk” and outsourcing an Internet surveillance program but budgets were tight, pension costs rising, and if corporations had all the technology and existing connections, why not exhaust them.

As Samantha Belle, deputy director, walked in the room, Leo asked himself if her stock could rise any higher? Women now are permitted in battle, what’s next? It appeared she was an obvious choice for director, next in line. Samantha had brass balls and brought matching brass knuckles to each fight. She reminded Leo of a spayed pit bull. No children. Unmarried. Dedicated to work. She was a machine manifested to fill her roll. After all, Leo was just a PHD computer science guru, not a policy maker. She outsourced his baby, turning the fairytale system into a pumpkin carriage exposed by The Guardian.

“No time, must make haste,” says Samantha Belle. A few people raise their hands. “Sorry, no questions! I’m here to discuss your severances.”

“What? You’re firing us? Now you need us more than ever,” Says a voice from across the room.

“Don’t you think you should bring Project Cinderella back in house?” says another disgruntled voice.

“One defector and you all think the system is broken. Just need a bit of bloodletting and each of your shoes will be filled with spin-doctors to minimize affects. We don’t need bad blood infecting our practitioners. Contractors are the future of this project. That is all. Personnel along side agency lawyers will be up briefly to go over details ensuring you understand none competes and confidentiality.”

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