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Authors: Brendan DuBois
Tags: USA
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because you’re familiar with the area, you have a great cover as a magazine columnist --- which allows you to ask a lot of questions --- and because of your past experience."
"All I did in my past experience was read and write government reports."
She shook her head. "You're too modest. You performed some admirable intelligence work, coming up with conclusions that others had missed. If it hadn't been for that unfortunate accident in Nevada, I'm sure you could have gone far."
"No," I said.
"Oh, I disagree," she said. "I think that ---"
"I wasn't responding to your statement about my abilities," I said. “I’m just cutting off this lovely discussion so that we're not wasting each other's time. No, I'm not interested in working with you, for you, or even in the same room as you. All right?"
It was as if she hadn't heard me. She went on. "All we know about the contact in this state is that he's associated with the Porter Naval Shipyard, up the coast, and that the man's nickname is Whizzer. We're sure you can do well with that information, give us some leads ---"
"No," I said.
"We'll pay you an attractive day rate. One thousand dollars a day. When can you start?"
The noise of the other men in the house was still going on, as they searched for God knows what. "Never ," I said. "I worked once for this government. At the time, it seemed to be the patriotic thing to do. I was younger and full of vim and vigor. Now, all I have is a few scars and a lot of nightmares, plus a little vigor and no more vim."
She made a point of looking around my office. "Plus this house and an attractive monthly pension."
"Which doesn't even begin to compensate me for what happened in Nevada," I said.
"That was a different time, a different administration. Because of these past mistakes, do we have to ---“
“The space shuttle,” I said, interrupting her.
“Excuse me?”
"The space shuttle mission going on right now," I said. "Do you and your folks have any connection with it at all?"
"Of course we don't. What's the point?"
I leaned forward in my chair. "The point is, Miss Reeves, that the shuttle mission going on right now is one of the few areas in the federal government where I would gladly volunteer to assist. If you had come to me from NASA, we could have worked something out. Since you're from the Department of Justice, no deal."
"Is that your final word?"
"My solitary, last and only word. No."
A quick, chilly nod. The smile had gone. Oh well. She reached once again into her leather bag and passed over a business card. "Here. My card. If and when you change your mind, you can contact me at any hour of the day."
I put the card on my crowded desk. "As the saying goes, if the phone don't ring, you'll know it's me."
She got up and I followed her out of my office and down the stairs. Three of her men were waiting outside my shattered door. One of the men was the redheaded fellow with the merry smile from the other night, the one she had called Mr. Turner. He looked over to Reeves and said, "Well, is he on board?"
Reeves said, "Nope," as she went outside.
Turner shook his head. "Man, you don't know what you just did. Nobody says no to Laura."
"I feel honored to start a new tradition."
He shook his head again and went outside. The cold wind was still blowing and the sky was overcast. Frozen rain pellets started spitting down at us. I looked at the broken door and the splintered doorjamb. I said, "Can I expect you strong fellows to come back later to fix this?"
He laughed. "Get the door fixed and submit a claim. You should he paid by the end of April. Of next year, if you're lucky. After all these years, have you forgotten how the federal government works, Cole?"
He joined the procession of DEA folks, trooping back up to the parking lot. I saw Reeves had a cell phone out, was talking urgently to someone by the way her free hand was waving about. I looked back to my ruined door.
"No," I said.
"All I did in my past experience was read and write government reports."
She shook her head. "You're too modest. You performed some admirable intelligence work, coming up with conclusions that others had missed. If it hadn't been for that unfortunate accident in Nevada, I'm sure you could have gone far."
"No," I said.
"Oh, I disagree," she said. "I think that ---"
"I wasn't responding to your statement about my abilities," I said. “I’m just cutting off this lovely discussion so that we're not wasting each other's time. No, I'm not interested in working with you, for you, or even in the same room as you. All right?"
It was as if she hadn't heard me. She went on. "All we know about the contact in this state is that he's associated with the Porter Naval Shipyard, up the coast, and that the man's nickname is Whizzer. We're sure you can do well with that information, give us some leads ---"
"No," I said.
"We'll pay you an attractive day rate. One thousand dollars a day. When can you start?"
The noise of the other men in the house was still going on, as they searched for God knows what. "Never ," I said. "I worked once for this government. At the time, it seemed to be the patriotic thing to do. I was younger and full of vim and vigor. Now, all I have is a few scars and a lot of nightmares, plus a little vigor and no more vim."
She made a point of looking around my office. "Plus this house and an attractive monthly pension."
"Which doesn't even begin to compensate me for what happened in Nevada," I said.
"That was a different time, a different administration. Because of these past mistakes, do we have to ---“
“The space shuttle,” I said, interrupting her.
“Excuse me?”
"The space shuttle mission going on right now," I said. "Do you and your folks have any connection with it at all?"
"Of course we don't. What's the point?"
I leaned forward in my chair. "The point is, Miss Reeves, that the shuttle mission going on right now is one of the few areas in the federal government where I would gladly volunteer to assist. If you had come to me from NASA, we could have worked something out. Since you're from the Department of Justice, no deal."
"Is that your final word?"
"My solitary, last and only word. No."
A quick, chilly nod. The smile had gone. Oh well. She reached once again into her leather bag and passed over a business card. "Here. My card. If and when you change your mind, you can contact me at any hour of the day."
I put the card on my crowded desk. "As the saying goes, if the phone don't ring, you'll know it's me."
She got up and I followed her out of my office and down the stairs. Three of her men were waiting outside my shattered door. One of the men was the redheaded fellow with the merry smile from the other night, the one she had called Mr. Turner. He looked over to Reeves and said, "Well, is he on board?"
Reeves said, "Nope," as she went outside.
Turner shook his head. "Man, you don't know what you just did. Nobody says no to Laura."
"I feel honored to start a new tradition."
He shook his head again and went outside. The cold wind was still blowing and the sky was overcast. Frozen rain pellets started spitting down at us. I looked at the broken door and the splintered doorjamb. I said, "Can I expect you strong fellows to come back later to fix this?"
He laughed. "Get the door fixed and submit a claim. You should he paid by the end of April. Of next year, if you're lucky. After all these years, have you forgotten how the federal government works, Cole?"
He joined the procession of DEA folks, trooping back up to the parking lot. I saw Reeves had a cell phone out, was talking urgently to someone by the way her free hand was waving about. I looked back to my ruined door.
"No," I said.
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