Disclaimer: I don't own the situations or characters portrayed herein. I'm just playing with them for a while.
Chapter One: A Scarecrow Outstanding in his Field
It was well-known that Lee Stetson was the best there was. He had made a success of his fourteen years at the agency, and then made as equally resounding a success for the next twenty-five years at the State Department Bureau of Intelligence and Research. His name was well-known in DC as a paragon of excellence, and new recruits for many government offices were regularly regaled with tales about the legendary man.
He took an early retirement in order to spend more time with his wife, his sons, and his grandkids — something that no one who knew young Scarecrow would have ever seen coming.
It might have been the talk of the town, if the town hadn't had the last twenty-odd years to get used to the idea. As it was, no one bothered to bat an eyelash. It was expected; Lee Stetson's reputation had gone from one extreme to the other with exceptionally little fanfare. He had been off the social duty roster at the agency for three years before he made the change to the SDBIR, and no one had really paid any attention even then except for a few offhand comments by Elisa Danton. Then, when he switched to Senior Consultant of International Diplomatic Intelligence Relations, he had apparently vowed to keep his job separate from his family life, and he had done so.
No one was surprised when he retired. Indeed, Francine Desmond (head of the agency and one of his dearest family friends) seemed annoyed that he had stuck around in her diplomatic circles as long as he did. He was the only one, she was wont to say, that didn't flinch when she frowned or snap to attention when she raised a hand. She was glad to see him go, provided she continued to be invited to the occasional Sunday dinner and every Thanksgiving. Everyone had heard her say at least once that Mrs. Stetson's pot roast with succotash, followed by a fresh-made brownie, was the stuff that dreams were made of.
The SDBIR held a retirement party for him and the president gave him a hearty pat on the back when he heard the news. That was all. The next day, Lee Stetson's desk was cleared out of all the graduation, wedding, fishing, and hiking pictures, and the best agent D.C. had known had gone home to Rockville to live out the rest of his life in peace and contentment.
Or so everyone thought.
