The Cave.
Sarah.
It was late when I finished up the tape for Ryan. I was ready to go home. Get to bed, and maybe get three hours of sleep before I had to get up and pass my PT Test. Be still oh heart of mine.
I dropped my report on his desk.
Thrilled that he was off with someone else. Now I could leave. So off I went, hurrying to the elevator. I pressed the button, dug my car keys from my pocket, and some little turd in a suit came up to me.
"You need to come with me."
I looked him over.
Laughed.
And then stepped in the elevator when the doors opened. What a loser, there was nothing stopping me from getting to my beloved pillow.
The nicely dressed turd followed me.
"Sergeant, I have been given instructions to find you and bring you to the meeting room."
I pressed button 2 and leant against the wall, preventing the turd access. "Well I don't take orders from you, so sod off. And find a suit that fits, it looks like you're wearing parachute pants."
Turd was surprised.
Whether it was about the pants, or the orders, I was unsure.
The doors closed.
His mouth opened.
I held up a hand, "I'm off duty, Turd. Quiet time. No talkie." I then took the earpieces from my Ipod from my pocket, shoved them in my ears, and turned on some Leona Lewis. I needed some tunes to relax.
Turd went on his cell phone.
Halfway through "Bleeding Love" I exited the elevator, Turd closely behind. Swiped my ID on the way out and wove through the office. I waved to various people, flipped off a few others, and then I was outside in the great refreshing night air.
A mere fifty feet away, separated by a chain link fence waited the Stang. In all her glory.
A hand fell on my shoulder.
I turned and saw an armed guard. The music needed to cease for a moment. So off it went and I looked at the unnamed huge guard, "What do you want? I'm off duty till Zero Eight Hundred."
Huge guard informed me, beneath the oh-so-romantic light of the street lamp and a million bugs. "Colonel Ryan wants you now."
Minutes Later…
Ryan waited with another suit.
This suit was expensive, a designer suit. The owner was probably someone of importance. I really needed to behave. I would try relatively harder then usual.
"Sergeant, would you have a look at these pictures."
Since there were other people here, I did not give any attitude. There were certain times when the tude was not accepted, believe it or not.
I looked at the four photos on the table.
They were of four old men.
The other suit was dubious of something. He didn't seem thrilled to see me for some reason. Which was odd. After all, Ryan seemed rather pleased I hadn't escaped to the Stang.
Ryan then asked of me, "Do you recognize any of them?"
"No, Sir."
The attitude that I was displeased was oh-so-obvious. While I looked around the small room, I crossed my arms, my eyes fell on the clock. I hoped the suit knew he was wasting my time.
Ryan replaced the pictures.
Four new pictures of old men, "Do you recognize any of these men?"
No a one.
So I shook my head and tapped my foot.
Expensive suit man stiffened.
Once more the pictures were changed. And again, they were of four old men. However, they were four of the same old men. Different hair, contacts, facial adjustments due to surgery over the years. A progression obviously of none other then Nikolai, from next door. I had no idea what his last name was. But that wasn't important.
"It's Nikolai. Can I go home now, Sir?"
Ryan looked to the expensive suit, as if saying 'told you' with his eyes. He then told me, "Would you wait for me in my office?"
Ok.
Fine.
So, I wasn't getting any sleep. I could deal with that. We could see if everyone else could deal with that. So I glared at both suits and stormed from the room, less then a pleased little soldier.
On the way to Ryan's office, I stopped and poured myself a mug of coffee. Needing some caffeine. I then replaced five nicotine patches, and added two more for effect.
Needless to say, I was feeling good when I ended up in Ryan's office, and he was already behind his desk. Tapping away at his keyboard. When I walked in the office and closed the door, an apology for being late was on my lips. But he beat me to the punch, "Sarah, I have a job for you."
He then tossed me a passport.
I caught it with the hand not holding my coffee.
"You're sending me on vacation?"
"London."
London?
I peeked at the passport. There was my picture, but not my name. Which confused me.
"I'll have the rest of the documentation ready in a hour."
Ok.
This was news to me.
"Are you sending me on vacation?" Which I wasn't going to oppose. Nope. I sipped my coffee and sat down at the desk. Making sure the passport people got my weight right.
It took me a second to realize it was a Canadian Passport though.
"I need you to go to London with Gerhardt and Brown to identify Nikolai. It will be at a party. You'll need to buy a dress."
Quickly, I drank the rest of my coffee. Then I informed him, "That is not in my job description."
For the first time he looked at me, "Do you even know what your job description is?"
Glorified secretary?
Which I told him and got a stern look in response.
Sure I was in the Army. I'd done the bootcamp thing and all. Ryan leant on his elbows, looking me in the eyes, "Sarah, where do you think all your translations go?"
"Here," I guessed.
Ryan shook his head, "I share the translations and your insights with the CIA, NSA, and other peoples. They send me certain things I have certain people translate. You, for instance, happen to be on of my best translators and analyst's. As such, the CIA has requested your presence on this particular project."
So I was a super glorified secretary, spiffy.
Ryan then told me, "Go to sleep in the crash room. I'll have you woken when it's time for you to go."
