Making Contact
Chapter 4
In the plush hotel room, Fiona opened her eyes and knew it was theday…the day her life began as a spy.
She thought she would have been excited, but she felt almost blasé now. All the waiting around had definitely waned her enthusiasm a bit. However, Dr. Jones had been correct in his assessment. She had needed some kind of diversion, and the promise of action was all she could ever ask for.
She ate a small breakfast at the hotel dining room while reading her new 'Emma' novel. The book actually held Fi's interest. There was only one problem with the plotline. According to the story, the heroine, Emma was "a woman blessed with good looks and intelligence, but she was also graced with a disposition of thinking too highly of herself'."
How will I ever relate to the heroine of this story? Fi thought to herself.
Enough, she thought, as she shut the book. She picked up her purse, noting how light it felt without a weapon. She put her Emma book in her purse, but it still felt too light. She missed her gun already. The sacrifices a spy must make, she thought to herself as she left the hotel.
Although it was a beautiful day to walk, Fi decided to drive her rented silver Audi to the bookstore. Once she completed this simple assignment she would go sightseeing throughout the city, perhaps drop by a hardware store.
At 9:50 am she walked up to Nemo's Bookstore.
"The Great Gatsby" and the name "Trudy" was ingrained in her mind.
A smile played on her lips at the idea of being secretive, of having specific lines to say for identification purposes. She never had to do this with a gun deal. Or when she had to catch a bounty. Those times she had let her Uzi do all the talking. Not today.
The door to Nemo's Bookstore was partially opened. That was not how it had been the other day, but perhaps there had been a careless customer, she thought as she entered.
Opening the door, she boldly entered.
Compared to the outside, the interior of the bookstore was so dark. Fi had to blink slightly at the sudden change from bright sunlight to the relatively dark interior of the room.
"Hello!" exclaimed a man from behind the counter.
Fi did not recognize that voice and could only make out a silhouette. It was definitely not the thin frame of Benjamin McGrath, the owner she had met a couple of days ago.
Finally her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room. The man who had greeted her was average in height and weight with dark hair. Very nondescript; someone no one would ever give a second look at.
To cover her confusion she smiled politely and nodded.
Tourist, she reminded herself, I am an Uzi-less tourist.Unlike her usual manner of knowing exactly where she wanted to go, she had to pretend to look lost and disjointed in a new city.
She wandered aimlessly through shop, at last ending up at a nearby table which displayed best-selling novels. Randomly selecting a book, she opened it, pretending to be thoroughly interested in its contents. The words at first seemed to run together before she forced herself to concentrate.
She skimmed over the words on the page: Be emotionally grounded. Life with you should not be a roller coaster ride. Men generally like women who are stable. If you find yourself referred to as difficult, seek help and guidance in relaxing your nerves and calming your emotions.
What do these crazy words mean? she thought, what is this book? Was the author Sam Axe? She flipped the cover to read its title. She scowled as she read the name of the book, "How to Keep Your Man".
She almost flung the book across the room.
"May I help you?"
The man she had seen earlier was now standing next to her. As Fi gave him the quick lookover, and the only thing remarkable about this man was that his eyes were very black, as if no light or life was present.
Getting no response from her, he peered at the book in Fi's hand.
"A fine book you have selected!" he stated, "One of our best sellers! Are you here seeking self-help relationship advice?"
Fi slammed the book shut, "Certainly not!" and then remembering her role, she relaxed and added, "I was just glancing at this...for a friend."
The man gave her an overt wink, "Yes, yes..it is always for a friend, is it not?"
Fi wanted to smush the book in that smug man's face. But she thought better of it, for he would not be willing to help her if she knocked his lights out. And help was what she needed, for her job was to retrieve that book.
Then once this mission was completed, she could change her name from Faith Armstrong to...to ...Zara Armstrong. Fi smiled to herself at that thought.
Looking back at the man standing before her now, she noticed that unlike the storekeeper from yesterday, this man had no store tag pinned on his shirt.
Where was Benjamin McGrath?
She would find out.
"Perhaps you can help me," Fi tried to look helpless, "I was here yesterday and the proprietor, Mr. McGrath, was so very helpful in helping me select a book... I thought he might be here today to suggest another book for me. When will he be back?"
The man looked surprised, "But, Miss,I am the owner! And yes, my name is Benjamin McGrath!"
What? Fi stared at him hard. She could not recall if the other man had actually introduced himself by that name. Perhaps not. Too bad she couldn't find out the truth her way...by beating it out of him. No, this time, she needed to use words.
"Really?" she asked innocently, "I am quite sure that other person I spoke to introduced himself as Mr. McGrath! He even had a name tag with the name "Ben" printed on it!
Her eyes dropped to the front of this person's shirt, where the tag should have been pinned. That made this McGrath subconsciously reach up with his hand and cover that empty space above his shirt pocket.
There was a pause and then he awkwardly laughed.
"Oh yes, of course! Of course!" he said, "You are referring to my cousin Benson! He helps me when I am away from the shop."
Fi narrowed her eyes. She trusted the original McGrath more. Nevertheless, she could be mistaken. Perhaps this is the McGrath she should be speaking with.
For if there's one thing Fi learned from Michael is to trust no one, including someone who looked trustworthy like the original Ben McGrath. She mustn't let "bonding" with someone fog her perceptions.
She needed to find out which one was the real Benjamin McGrath.
I am undercover, I am not me,thought Fi, reminding herself,I must get answers by being polite. I mustn't act as though I am the Gestapo interrogating a prisoner. Slapping is not an option.
Fi forced a smile, "What a shame your charming cousin is not here! But perhaps you might be able to help me, after all. I think the last time I was here, The Great Gatsby was suggested by him as a book I should read. Do you have that here?"
Her eyes opened innocently wide and she tilted her head.
As if he were in deep thought,this McGrath folded his arms and settled his chin between the 'v' created by his index finger and the inside part of his thumb.
"Mmmm…The Great Gatsby," he mused outloud, "I am not sure...I will go check for you…"
He went back to the counter and rustled through a stack of papers. Extracting a particular sheet, he ran a finger down the typed list.
He shook his head, "That book we do not have. I am so sorry."
Fi quickly recalled what Agent Pearce had said: "The book owner there, whose name is Benjamin McGrath, will say with regret that he is very sorry but he does not have a copy at the moment."
This McGrath did not say those exact words, but the idea was the same... so was he the imposter or was the first McGrath?
Fi also remembered that Agent Pearce had been very explicit in her directions: "You will then tell him that you saw The Great Gatsby book at the window. Both you and him will walk over to the front of the store whereupon he will find the book for you. You must also mention –as a back up identification cue—that your friend Trudy loves the character of Daisy and he will respond with a yes, that character is shallow yet effervescent.
Fi spoke with conviction, "I believe I saw a copy in your window."
"Is that so?" he seemed genuine in his surprise.
"Yes, I'm sure I saw a copy when I had first walked in." Fi stated, giving him a challenging stare.
They both walked over to the front window. Fi leaned over and looked through the entire window display of books. She was disappointed when The Great Gatsby book was nowhere is sight.
As she straightened up and looked around the shop, Fi noticed something else that was unusual.
The small round fish tank, the one that the first McGrath had lovingly named his shop after, was missing from its special table.
With a sinking sensation, Fi knew her initial thought was correct.
This was not the McGrath she was looking for. But just in case, she would give this person one more chance to redeem himself.
Fi looked right at him, "How strange that you do not have that book, for I really wanted to read it. My friend Trudy really enjoyed that book."
"Is that so?" he asked, "did she buy it here?"
Okay, thought Fi, now she knew for certain. This definitely was not Benjamin McGrath. Perhaps she should come back later at night and rummage through this place on her own to try and find the book.
Fi forced a smile, "Perhaps I was wrong. I thought she said she bought it here last week.. No worries... I'll just look elsewhere. Anyway, thank you for your time."
She started to make turn away.
"Wait, Miss! Stop!" McGrath imposter smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, "Come to think of it, a small shipment of books arrived just yesterday and silly me!... I just stuffed the entire box under this counter here, without even taking any of the books out…it'll just take a second for me to look at the inventory list.."
He walked back to the counter, bending behind the counter.
Fi just wanted to leave, "Never mind, Mr. McGrath, you don't need to-"
She stopped talking when she heard the click of a gun.
Things can sometimes go wrong, terribly wrong, she remembered Pearce saying.
Here was a perfect example.
Fake McGrath now had a gun directly pointed at Fi
.
Back at her desk, Agent Pearce had spent most of the morning on the phone, conferring with a State Department official about a possible revolution that may erupt in Cuba. Hers was the only department with a comprehensive file on the insurgent leader.
She looked up as her young assistant, Thomas Wright entered her office and shut the door. He then brought over to her the usual cup of coffee along with a folder stamped "Classified." The folder was paper-thin, for there were only five sheets, one being an email recently inserted in the new file.
"I wouldn't read the top paper in that file now if I were you, Kim," warned assistant Wright when Pearce had immediately taken the folder, "I think you're going to need your coffee first."
Agent Pearce peered over at her colleague, "Really? Well, that can't be a good sign, Tom, can it?...but a jolt isn't something I need just yet, so let's take a look at what we got here with this latest email, shall we?"
After the morning Agent Pearce had been having, she did not think anything worse could happen. She was so wrong as she scanned the confidential email.
The email was from state officials at the Security Department in Washington DC:
It has been confirmed that the body of Agent Benjamin McGrath, working undercover as proprietor of Nemo's Bookstore, was found floating off the waters of south Florida. Details are sketchy at this time, and the cause of death cannot be confirmed as of yet. It was highly possible that he either died of knife wounds and or drowning, most likely occurring sometime just before midnight on the 17th of June. Further investigation is underway by authorities.
Agent Pearce stared at the impersonal black letters on the paper. She knew Benjamin McGrath, and he is, no, was, an excellent agent. Pearce allowed herself a brief moment to mourn McGrath, for no person deserved to die this way.
At last she sat up, her manner once again became one of cold and ruthless efficiency.
"I want complete updates on this investigation as they come in." she insisted to her assistant.
"Of course."
"And I want a direct line to Langley to verify the facts, " Pearce continued, as she felt a headache coming on, "You know who to contact up there."
"That, I do."
Agent Pearce breathed out a sigh of frustration. What else could go wrong?
It was at that precise moment that the door burst opened and Michael Westen strode in, looking thoroughly enraged.
.
.
(The best thing about the BN site is the wonderful readers/reviewers! Thank you, thank you for your kindness!)
Please review