CHAPTER 3


Thursday June 19th, 2014

Langley, Virginia

Auggie sits on the other side of Calder's desk, trying to make sense of everything the man has been saying. "I'm missing something here." he admits. "You need a hacker? Or…what?"

He stops, completely at a loss. He knows he's good at what he does, but there are other tech people who are really good at their jobs too – people that actually work in divisions that deal with non-domestic threats. As interesting as Calder's story has been, he can't see how it has anything to do with the DPD. And even less with him.

"We need a blind guy."

Calder's words floor him. He slumps back into his chair, literally taken aback. "You what?" He runs a hand over his hair. He knows his bewilderment must be written all over him.

"We need a blind guy." Calder repeats it slowly, enunciating every word clearly. He is enjoying himself. Auggie can hear the grin.

He relaxes back further, shaking his head, a smile of incredulity forming across his features. "OK, you're gonna have to lay this out for me."

"Gladly." Calder's punch-line having been delivered he gets back to business. "We really lucked out on this one. One of the people in the second-week volunteer group is a blind journalist coming specifically to write a piece on the whole 'hands-on experience' for Go Travel Magazine's regular Accessible Travel feature."

"And you want me in his place?" Auggie has made the leap and cannot stop his developing grin.

"If you're willing. We've approached the journalist in question and he's willing to forgo his place in return for a replacement vacation of equal value, substantial compensation for his 'lost earnings' and a decent article for the magazine under his byline."

Auggie folds his arms. "A mercenary blind guy," he says approvingly. "I like it."

"So, you want to do this?" The answer must be pretty obvious to Calder but he apparently wants to give Auggie a final chance to back out.

"Are you kidding me?"

"I'll take that as a 'yes', then. Excellent." Auggie can hear him lean forward and flip the folder on the desk closed. Then he adds, almost as an afterthought: "Joan was pretty sure you wouldn't say no."

Auggie huffs out a laugh. "Yeah, Joan knows me too well." Then he's all business - sitting forward, elbows on the desk. "So, how's this gonna work? Do we sit down together and work out a plan? When will you brief me?" He pauses, realizing he hasn't even asked the primary question yet. "When am I going?"

Auggie is trying to mask his inner excited kid – and not entirely succeeding. Calder, however, is not responding in kind. Instead he's very quiet. Auggie sobers, sensing they're not quite done yet.

"There's one thing we need to discuss before we talk about any of that," Calder says seriously, "and that's the matter of who's going with you. Our journalist had a photographer friend going along with him – a stay-in-the-same-room kind of friend, if you know what I mean. We're going to have to replace her too."

Auggie stills. There is a silence. Calder doesn't try to fill it.

Then Auggie blows out his breath slowly – not quite a sigh, but something close to it. "You're thinking Annie."

"We are." Calder affirms. "It makes the most sense, given your guys' history – your previous experience in the field together."

"I know." This time Auggie's sigh is unmistakable. "But it's…" He hesitates, searching for the right word - finally settles on "…complicated."

"She has to get back into the fray at some stage," Calder argues. "And this is about as perfect a mission for that as you could get – it's a relatively simple job, she's got you, she's support, not lead…she's on a luxury vacation in Africa, for Chrissakes. You don't get more cushy than that."

Shit.

Auggie forces down a rising bubble of anxiety and nods. "Yeah. OK. Sound her out then." But his voice is full of uncertainty and hesitation, and betrays him.

Calder doesn't comment, instead slaps his hands onto his desk and stands up. "OK, then," he says briskly, "I'll take this back to Joan and then we'll get back to you. I guess you better start thinking about what you're going to pack, Mr. Anderson."


Forty minutes later, Auggie is back at his desk, trying to finish off a few urgent bits of work before he leaves, when he hears his door sliding open. He slips his headphones off expecting Calder to come bulldozing in. But it isn't Calder.

"Hey." She's still in the doorway – hasn't come into his office yet.

"Hey," he echoes. Then he waits.

She comes in then and stands by his desk - but she keeps it between them.

"So," she says, "Joan talked to me."

"I know." It's an inane response, but he isn't sure how to ask the question he wants to – too scared the answer won't be what he's hoping for.

"I said yes."

Relief unfurls in his stomach, spreading warmth throughout his whole being. "I'm glad," he says gently.

She's quiet for a long time. Then she speaks again, her voice full of anxiety and sadness and other emotions he can't quite identify. "Do you think we can do this, Auggie? With everything so…" She doesn't finish the question. Hesitates. Starts a new one instead: "Do you think I'm ready?"

He wants so badly to reach out, to find her hand, to hold it, but has to settle instead for reassuring words: "We'll be OK, Walker." He says it with as much conviction as he can muster.

He desperately hopes he's right.