The Silent Killer
Chapter Nine
While Joe and the boys headed north, away from the city and towards the more serene prospects of the Pennsylvania countryside, the atmosphere within the Agency was quickly becoming less than tranquil.
Much like the outdoor temperatures that had been hovering in the high nineties over the nation's capital for several weeks, the tempers within the building were also rising. Serenity, it would seem, had also taken off on vacation, leaving more than a few IFF staff members near the boiling point.
The first crisis of the day had been brought to Billy's attention very early on, thanks to Scarecrow. The coffee pot in the break room for the bullpen decided to malfunction, spewing a messy mix of coffee grinds and water all over the counter and leaving more than a few miffed at having to travel from the bullpen elsewhere in search of their morning caffeine fix.
A multi-car crash on one of the major highways had caused more than a few employees, meeting attendees, and others to arrive late. Needless to say, many of them did not appreciate the extra long hike to obtain their much-needed caffeine after being stranded en-route to work amidst vehicle exhaust fumes and other irate motorists.
Now, if that had been all that they had had to contend with, it would have been a different story. By ten in the morning, Scarecrow's complaint of an overly warm conference room had extended to the entire floor. The air conditioning system decided, on this overly warm day, to throw a major fit.
As for Lee's meeting, well, it was safe to say that it just wasn't his day. The meeting couldn't begin on time and Greg Meyers was very much absent, leaving Lee to run the entire show by himself. Of course, everyone had wanted coffee to start off the day and then, as the indoor temperatures continued to rise, they had begun pleading for more ice water. By the time their catered lunch had been brought in, most of the attendees had stripped off as much clothing as they could while still maintaining some professional dignity and Lee was trying to ward off a very pounding headache.
Now, if that had been the only thing that was not going quite exactly as planned, it would have been tolerable. But, there is some old saying about Murphy's law or when it rains, it pours. And yes, inside the Agency it was certainly pouring woes down upon them.
In the middle of his lunch, Billy discovered that he had to be a last minute substitute for Smyth, who had the audacity to call in and say that he would be unavailable for the day. The Section Chief took one last bite of his potato salad, grabbed his jacket and scurried from the office, praying that he might at least find cooler heads prevailing where he was heading.
The woes and misery did not end there.
Poor Francine was also fighting a headache and as they say, was quite thoroughly disgusted. Her desk computer had attempted to eat her floppy disc for lunch while she still hadn't been able to find the time to schedule her own in.
This was the same floppy that she had taken home to finish up her own work the night before. She'd broken a nail in the process of trying to retrieve it and then, after she had finally admitted defeat and had been sitting there plotting on just how much of the bargain she was going to cash in on with Lee, Jonathan called.
So much for Francine's idea of salvaging a little personal time later in the weekend. The idea flew right out the window when Jonathan informed her that he had to go out of town on business and wouldn't be back until late Monday night.
And, despite her nearly pleasant start to her morning, Amanda's day wasn't shaping up to be much better. Half of the students in the freshman class were now angry with her because she had graded their papers by regulations, with no curve. Most of them had not fared well and they jumped on the opportunity to try and take advantage of their substitute.
At first, she had tried to reason with them, explaining that Beaman had insisted on no curve. Then, she attempted to point out to them that if they took their agent training seriously, they would have been prepared for the test, curve or not.
That had earned her more than a few looks reminiscent of those she had seen with her sons when they had attempted to pass the blame on their bad grades elsewhere. It also earned her a few comments that she could have done without.
By two in the afternoon, the meeting attendees were drenched and Lee was having a hard time keeping anyone's attention due to the loud clanging and banging overhead while the AC system was apparently being serviced. Then, one of the men from the CIA ended up leaving shortly after lunch, complaining of a migraine.
Francine had taken refuge in Billy's office, still irked that her work seemed doomed to the land of irretrievable data and that she would have to redo most of it from start. Her head was throbbing and the Tylenol that she had taken did not seem to be taking the edge of. The temperature had kept rising, right along with her temper and even clipping up her long blonde hair had done little to improve her mood.
When Amanda began the day's second class, they obviously still hadn't gotten over the fact that before she'd dismissed them for break, she'd asked them to think about being in the field and what might happen if they messed something up due to lack of proper preparation. She wanted them to speculate on whether a life or death situation would allow them a curve to remedy their inadequacies.
Finally, at three forty-five, she dismissed them, totally disgusted with almost the entire class. After shoving papers into her briefcase, she left the classroom and headed down the hallway to the bullpen, thankful to see Francine sitting in Billy's office with the door open.
Amanda had just sat down on the couch, blowing her bangs upward with a disgusted breath when Billy stormed back into his office, stripping his suit jacket off in the process and tossing it in the general direction of where it normally would have been hung up. He demanded that Francine hand him his bottle of antacids, then, after popping one into his mouth he looked at both women and asked them why they were in his office.
Francine shook her head and pointed out the window towards her desk, where not one but three technicians now stood. All of them were wearing similar perplexed expressions.
"Seems not only did my computer get a little hungry, now half of them are throwing a tantrum and refuse to boot up."
Billy looked at her, a little confused. Then, above their heads, another series of loud bangs and clashes assaulted their ears. This was quickly followed by a hot blast of air swishing from the vents above them.
"What, is this the day from hell?" Billy growled.
Neither woman had a chance to reply as Lee Stetson came tearing into the office, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his tie long gone, and his normally perfect hair looking as though his hand had spent the better part of the day raking through it.
"How the hell am I supposed to conduct a meeting in there? First of all, Greg Meyers calls in sick, again, and I'm left running the whole damn show. Then, halfway through the meeting Carlson from the CIA says he needs to go home, he thinks he's getting a migraine or something and I can't hear myself think over the rattles from the repair technicians, who obviously aren't doing a damn bit of good. It's blowing heat out. We don't need heat, it's over a hundred degrees outside, what the hell do we need heat for?"
"Poor baby," Francine said. "Try having all of the data that I worked on last night from home lost, because I volunteered to help you yesterday for your briefs for your meeting because Amanda wasn't available."
"Don't blame this on me," Amanda retorted as she pointed to Lee. "It was his idea in the first place to make sure I don't get anywhere other than behind a desk. A position which, need I tell you, is ridiculous because that classroom is filled with nothing but spoiled brats. Brats who wanted to go home early because they were hot, brats who insisted that I adjust their exam grades with a curve, despite the fact that Beaman left explicit instructions not to."
"Amanda," Lee growled, "I've had a top security clearance meeting that turned into shambles cause half of them were ready to pass out from the heat. Where the hell is the Agency funding going if we can't even keep a simple conference room cool enough to conduct a meeting? I suppose the FBI gets enough funding to keep their systems operational."
By this time, Billy felt as if he was watching a tennis match, with each of the three agents seeming intent on making their day the winning loss.
"Well, I think the FBI is getting more for their computer systems than we are. I mean, look at those technicians. They don't look any older than Amanda's sons and they're trying to restore vital data, data that I stayed up until well after midnight last night because I did you, Scarecrow, a favor."
"Hey, I offered to repay you," he reminded her.
"Do any of you care that an entire class of future agents, thirty of them, seem to think that they can get by in the field only half-prepared because they think the KGB or the Libyans are going to give them a curve for their screw-ups? And, don't you go yelling at Francine, Lee. It's your fault that you didn't have the help. I would have gladly helped you, but no, oh no, you seem hell-bent on keeping me chained either to a desk or in front of a class that doesn't seem to care about national security."
Amanda marched right over to him and began tapping his chest.
"And if I hear one more comment from that Traci, Traci with an "i" I might add, about how Beaman will give them a makeup test next week or that just because I'm your partner doesn't mean I have to be so strict with them."
"Amanda," Billy interjected calmly. "Let's be rational here."
"Rational? You do not get a second chance out there," Amanda said. "I don't think Beaman has been stressing just how dangerous it can be. I'd like to know when and where the bad guys use curves."
Lee practically snorted.
"And now do ya think you might understand why I always told you to stay in the car?"
"That was different," Amanda rebutted.
"She never listened anyhow," Francine added. "And does anyone care that I lost hours worth of work and that half of the computers out there are not working?"
"Enough people," Billy said. "What, you all think I had a picnic today? I had to fill in for Smyth, and mind you; this was for a meeting that I wasn't even prepared for. A major meeting people."
Billy inhaled deeply before continuing.
"And this is my office, can I please have it back? Why don't you all knock off for the evening and we can start fresh tomorrow."
"Billy," Francine exclaimed.
"Whatever you're working on Francine will keep until tomorrow. And Amanda, I'm sure once they've had an evening to think it over, the class will realize the wisdom of your opinions. If not, most of them won't be making it to the next round of classes, and we'll be better off for it in the long run. Lee, I'm sure you handled the meeting with as much success as possible despite the heat. Tomorrow will be better, the AC will be working, the computers will be fixed and maybe I can get some answers as to why Smyth left me covering for him on such short notice."
Just then Amanda sneezed.
"Bless you," Billy told her. "Now, all of you, scat. I need my office back."
Just then his phone rang and he grinned at them.
"See, some of us do have work to do. Goodnight people."
The trio began making their way out of Billy's office but hadn't made it very far before Billy's booming voice filled the air.
"Lee!"
"Yeah," Lee said as he turned back around.
"Is Hayes with the NSC still here?"
"No, he left about ten minutes before I came into your office," Lee told him.
Billy nodded, then waved Lee away.
Lee took the opportunity to catch up with Amanda, who was now waiting by the elevator and wearing a very exasperated look upon her face.
"Hey," he called out to her.
"Yeah," she replied without looking at him, her eyes clearly focused on the elevator doors.
"Manda," Lee began in a hushed tone when he got closer to her. "Look, none of us has had a good day and I'm sorry about that back there."
"Lee," she said, "it isn't a big deal. We're all a little hot and edgy right now."
"Yeah," he replied, still not sure if she was mad at him or not. "Look, just because the day was lousy, we can still salvage the night. That is, if you want to."
He gave her a hopeful look; the complete package filled with the disarming smile and the melt-her-into-a-puddle at his feet glance from his hazel eyes. The very look that she'd never once been successful in not reacting to.
"I still want to," Amanda reassured him. "Now, let me get home and get dinner started, okay?"
"I won't be long," Lee promised her.
"I'm holding you to that," she whispered as she gave him a smile.
With that, the elevator doors opened and Amanda got in. Lee walked back down the corridor after the doors closed, feeling a sense of relief that this day was behind them and that the evening was shaping up rather nicely.
The closed doors and the distance he had put between himself and her prevented him from hearing her coughing.
They say, sometimes, that ignorance is bliss.
They also say that what you can't see, can kill you.