Ch. 1 Pretenses

A short chapter. CIA agent Lyle Drogue gets his first big break in a case.

Today is another damn day back in civilization. I'd just gotten out the army a few months back. I never got to see any real action. I was too valuable as a technician. I watched countless buddies get hurt and I could never actually suit up. I was stuck at a computer desk for four damn years. And look at me now one year later and I'm stuck behind another damn desk.    

            My father is Carl Drogue, he couldn't' have a son out of the army jobless. He is the stat senator with major connections. He got me a job at the C.I.A. Here, you had to work your way up by proving yourself. I'm stuck on the first floor of this building with all the other technicians. I'm stuck at my small cubicle calling phone numbers chasing tips.

            I never get the big cases. I only have the small ones or the myths as they call it here. For instance, I'm following tips on a fugitive known only as Beast. He gets the nickname he's killed without living a single clue except a single rose in a glass case with fallen petals. It reminded someone of the children's story Beauty and the Beast.

            I sat at my cubicle with worn down chair in a partly lit office. I'm on the phone with an older woman from Brazil. She has seen Beast and phoned the tip line. Now, it's my job to call her back. I leaned back casually as I started a game of solitaire Vegas style. I'd casually worn a white button down with some khakis. There's no need to be dressy on the first floor.

            The rooms full of chatter. I can hear everyone's conversations about tips. My associates are trying to get the best information they can. The most important associates are those in the front closest to the Boss's office. They get tips for suspected terrorists and everything else that's number one priority.

            The older woman managed to answer her phone on the third ring.

            I stopped leaning and straightened my posture. "Mrs. Costika, I'm Lyle Drogue, analyst with the CIA, I'm calling in reference to the information you provided to our hotline concerning our fugitive; Beast."

            I'm losing on solitaire. "Oh, yes, I saw him the other day." She speaks with a heavy thick accent that takes me a moment to understand. I can tell English was her second language later in life.

            No one has ever seen Beast the guys practically a ghost. "How can you be sure this man is our fugitive?"

            "He's not a man he's a beast. He has big sharp teeth and yellow eyes..." And I stopped listening right there. This is how ninety nine percent of my calls went. Five minutes later Mrs. Costika had quieted.

            "Thank you for your information unfortunately Beast is an actual human not an animal. Have a great day." Then I hung up before she could say another word.

            Did I forget to mention Beast disappeared a year ago? We have no leads or concrete evidence of his disappearance except for no depths with his calling card. Beast killed over fifty individuals in less than two years and then just quit. Therefore recent sightings of Beast were always false leads to follow up on. There are many people who wish they could do my job. They could sit a desk taking lame phone calls and playing solitaire for eight hours a day. It is the perfect life, but not for me, never for me.

            I yearned for something more. I wanted in the field. I wanted to go up the stars. The top floors are reserved for experienced agents only. They get their own offices with their own staff that follows up leads. They don't have to deal with stupid phone calls and people who seem to see ghosts when they leave their homes. I should quit. I know I should quit, but my father got me this job. I could see him now. "How does that look, the son of state senator Drogue dropping out of the CIA." I imitate his voice. I roll my eyes. I needed a case. I needed to get on the inside.

            The time is now a quarter after one. I had four more hours in this place. I heard a slight buzzing coming from my fax machine. I slid my chair to the right. I never receive any faxes. I waited for the fax to completely finish. I retrieved the papers slowly. I'm sure they're meant for someone else. I can at least spend twenty minutes looking over the information before I hand it over.

 

Attn: Lyle Drogue

            Weapon X has been spotted in Lansing, Michigan. We have concrete evidence specifying X is insinuating herself as a high school student. X is a highly trained dangerous killing machine. The Secretary of Defense has ordered X to be brought in alive. This is a priority one and should be dealt with immediately.

         Reinhart