Chapter 23

The secretary looked up from her phone call as soon as the door opened. Number 1 smiled and gave a short, confident, wave as he headed towards the side door.

"Uh, hang on a minute," the secretary whispered into the phone as Number 1 started to walk past her, "Hey, you can't go in there. Who are you?" she yelled.

"Oh sorry," Number 1 said with a shy smile, "I guess the Agency didn't confirm my arrival? I'm the "two o'clock"."

The secretary looked around confused and then darted her eyes at her desk.

"The Assistant Director has no "two o'clock" appointment. He only has a "two thirty" appointment that will probably last the rest of the day."

"I'm early." He said curtly, glaring at her.

"Oh really," The secretary said with a smirk, "You're the ambassador from the security council of Brazil?"

"Yes", Number 1 growled, getting impatient. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the edge of the desk, getting closer to the secretary. They were almost nose to nose.

"The ambassador is a she," The secretary said mockingly as she reached for the phone base to dial the number, "I'm calling security. I don't think you are supposed to be here at all."

Number 1 reached over and pushed the base aside, the handset still in her hand, "Listen, I am an ambassador from an intelligence community but probably not one that you have heard of. I come here with some extremely sensitive information about stolen nuclear material. MILLIONS of lives are at stake and they will all perish if I don't get my information to SOMEONE who will listen."

The secretary stood still at the sudden outburst and then shook her head slowly, reaching for the phone base. "Then you call tell security; I'm sure they want to hear it"

Number 1 pushed off from the desk and started walking towards the door. The secretary was getting up from her desk and shouting at Number 1 who started to shout over her. He pushed the door open and walked inside.

Inside was a well decorated office from someone who was obviously in a position of power. There were bookshelves that lined the walls of the office, lamps, office furniture and fake plants. Despite the many windows that were in the office, the light seemed scarce due to the pulled blinds. Number 1 kept his eye on the Assistant Director as he marched confidently in the room.

The Assistant Director was a husky, middle aged man with a bushy beard. Like prominent men of the past, he looked like he was a "no nonsense" type of person who had obviously earned his position due to wisdom and insight.

"I'm sorry sir," the secretary shouted as she pulled on Number 1's shirt sleeve, "He just barged…"

"Sir," Number 1 interrupted, "I am Number 1 of the KCD Agency and I need your immediate attention…."

"What the heck? What is this?" the director shouted, rising from his seat with a startled look. He no doubt had military training that would cause him to react when approached with a potential threat.

"Sir!" the secretary shouted, "Sir! We need to call security!"

Number 1 shoved her away gently and attempted to shout over her. He motioned for the director to sit, to which the director did…slowly.

"What is the meaning of this?" the director said gruffly.

"Sir," Number 1 sputtered, lowering his voice and breathing heavier from his struggle with the secretary, "Sir, I need to speak with you with great urgency on a search and seizure at the docks."

Something was irritating Number 1's nostrils; making his labored breathing more difficult.

Number 1 glanced over to the side of the office and then back towards the open door, past the secretary but there was nothing in the doorway.

"Well!" the director said sharply, "Come on kid! What do you want?"

"It's uh….ah….a matter of national security", Number 1 whimpered nervously as he felt his blood chill as the room seemed to get colder. He looked around the room a little more; something was very wrong.

Something was burning.

Number 1 felt a chill fall down his spine; he felt the imminent creep of a shadow behind him. It felt as though the darkness was silently rising upon him, to overtake him. Number 1 reached in his pocket and pulled out his shades; putting them on his face and covering his eyes. He slowly turned to face towards the back of the room and saw a small end table in the corner, nestled by a book shelf and littered with reading material. Next to the end table were two wing backed chairs, one on each side that looked to be available for waiting guests.

Seated in one of those wing backed chairs was a shadow in the shape of a tall and thin man; like a spider resting in the corner of a web.

The back of the office was shrouded in shadow and the lamp that rested on the end table next to the seated man was turned off. The shadow was seated comfortably in the chair and looking directly at Number 1. The only indicator that the shadow was an actual person was a cigar in the shadow's hand; its small red ember was a glowing portal from which the thick smoke escaped up towards the ceiling, shrouding the shadow man in a haze.

The shadow man did nothing and said nothing.

Number 1 was frozen into place, his mind trying to compute what his eyes were telling him. He felt the adrenaline rushing in his veins screaming at his body to fly and to escape the wolf.

His soul kept him where he was.

"Hey!" the director whispered angrily, "Are you going to tell me what you said when you came barging through here, or what?"

The man in shadows did nothing and said nothing.

Number 1's mind was racing to the scene moments before where he had ignorantly spouted off, before realizing who was in the room. Had he divulged any secrets? How could he have been so reckless? This is exactly what Number 274 was griping about earlier in the week.

"If all you're going to do is stand there, I'm calling security" the assistant director said at last and reaching for the phone.

The man in the shadows silently puffed on the cigar and said nothing.

Number 1 turned to the assistant director and forced a smile, "I'm sorry for the confusion, sir. Actually, I'm a new intern for accounting and I've just lost my way."

The director looked confused and then shot a glance at the secretary. The secretary looked angry and upset as she threw her hands up and stormed out towards her office. The director shook his head as he pointed towards the door.

"You're on the wrong floor. You need to head back down to the second floor, but you need to be more professional in your mannerisms if you want to last around here." He said.

"Thanks," Number 1 muttered as he turned to walk out of the door.

"Not so fast, Number 1", growled a low voice from the back of the room.

Number 1 stopped and turned, alarmed, realizing that now the shadow man now knew his designation number.

"Now maybe the Assistant Director didn't hear what you said," the voice rumbled, "…but I did."

Number 1 turned and faced the man in the shadows. The shadowy figure took a long drag on the cigar; the ember's glow illuminated the thin and weathered face, a dark twinkle in the man's eyes. The eyes, in that faint moment of light, pierced like the eyes of a shark towards Number 1 before the ember faded and the man's face was shrouded in darkness and smoke once again.

"What is taking place that you need a search and seizure at the docks?" the man's voice rasped quietly.

Number 1 was only inches from the door, but he wasn't going to run anywhere.

"Actually, there is no problem at the docks at all. There is nothing to search and seize." He said, waiting to see if the cigar smoking man would pick up on his sarcasm. There was another long puff on the cigar and the wrinkles in the man's face creased into a sickly grimace.

"Really?" the man said in a mocking tone; his eyebrows rose smugly in a feigned innocence.

Number 1 said nothing in the stillness.

The dark, smoking man shifted in his chair and reached over to shake off the ashes from his cigar in an ashtray that rested on the end table.

He said nothing further as he took another slow pull on the cigar and exhaled slowly. Number 1 just stared back and fought the impulsive need to respond.

"I find it strange that you would come barging in here," the shadow man said at last, choking out the silence, "shouting about a matter of national security and then not have one shred of evidence to back up these wild accusations."

Number 1 pursed his lips and shook his head. He wanted to say something, but there would be a better opportunity to fight later. He simply stared at the man that was clouded by smoke. This villain was perched in the darkness and smoke like a wolf at the mouth of a cave. This was his domain and his turf. It was in these halls, and among these sheep, that he roamed freely; Number 1 had no advantage.

"Well," the smoking man continued, blowing smoke from his nose, "Like the Assistant Director said, if you want to last long around here, you need to be more professional; you need to have undeniable evidence. Otherwise, you end up looking like an amateur."

Number 1 turned to leave.

"One more thing Number 1," the smoking man called after him, "You never did mention the name of the group you represent."

Number 1 looked back one last time.

"You see," the smoking man said, shaking off the ashes, "I, myself, am a man of global interests. If you are a part of a larger group with the same interests, perhaps we should collaborate. What was the name again?"

Number 1 smiled, "Actually, we are still in the process of choosing a name. We are also in the midst of a huge recruiting program, so if you would like to join our ranks, I can take your name and home phone number?"

"Oh, don't worry Number 1", he said, the man's worn face crept into the same pale and sickly smile, "Your department will be hearing from mine soon enough."

Number 1 turned and walked out of the door. He ignored the secretary who was giving him dirty looks and headed for the elevator. He wasn't sure how to process what had happened and he would need a day to think on it. He couldn't believe that he had been so reckless in something so important. Also, it was unnerving to see Mr. Boss in what appeared to be a familiar environment that was high up the political chain.

In the end, this maneuver would have accomplished nothing except to alert Mr. Boss that Sector V had been unsuccessful in their retrieval attempts of the nuclear material. As the elevator descended, Number 1 kept playing the scenario over in his head, thinking of responses that he could have given.

In the end, it was nothing more than a power play. Mr. Boss had used that opportunity to exert some aggression towards the KCD and specifically towards Number 1. It was like watching a snake play with its dinner before devouring it. In the end, it was about Mr. Boss drawing a line in the sand for Number 1 and Sector V; and pressuring Number 1 to think about what might happen to him if he ever dared to cross it. This entire time, the KCD had gone generally unnoticed by Mr. Boss; at least it appeared so, despite the wanton destruction at the facility where he met with the ice cream men. When Mr. Boss had come to the conclusion that there was an organized front against his efforts, he set out to discover who that organized front was. He was able to accomplish that goal in one day of effort.

Mr. Boss was a true mastermind. He didn't have to lash out, strike, threaten, kill or even raise a finger. He merely had to accomplish the goals he wanted in the time he wanted them accomplished and he could get all the information, and leverage, he needed. There were enough lies and conspiracies surrounding him that it was like watching the Grim Reaper approach through a thick cloud of mist. It was yet another reminder of the risk that the KCD would be taking, a risk that would have weightier consequences than simple failure. They were on no playground; they weren't on any forgiving turf.

This shadow man would be there at the end of the line. There would come a day where the paths would intersect. For the moment, the shadow man believed that he was ahead in the game and that the KCD were a mere distraction. If the paths ever crossed, it would be a catalyst for an unpredictable reaction. They had more reason than ever to try and stop the criminal now, no matter the cost.

Number 1 walked away from the elevator and through the security gate. The guards didn't remember him or take notice as he strolled through the lobby at a quick pace. Once outside, he noticed a nervous Chad in his Jeep a few parking spots away; engine was running.

Number 1 climbed into the Jeep and slammed the door shut.

"How did it go, chief?" Chad asked, nervously tapping the gear selector.

Number 1 said nothing, except for a curt, "drive".