Chapter 4

I reluctantly spooned my eggs into the trash can.

Looks like I would be eating granola for breakfast. I grabbed a bar of the stuff from my pantry, and ran out the door. It was only after I saw my street side parking space empty, did I remember my car was still at the office.

Shit.

I scrabbled through my pockets for my cell phone ... then realized I had left it on my kitchen counter, and ran back into the house.

It was five minutes until I found my phone, and another twenty until the taxi pulled up.

Needless to say, when I got in the taxi I was not in the best of moods.

"26 Federal Plaza," I said.

Cabbies always give me a weird look when I ask to go to the Bureau building. It was always a quick glance into the review mirror. I can always see the same question in their eyes.

They never say it out loud, but the intent is clear. Instead all he said was a quick alright, and then he hit the gas.

The famous morning rush in the Big Apple was over, but that didn't mean traffic was any less than unbearable.

While sitting in the usual bumper to bumper gridlock, I decided to watch the people on the sidewalks and in the other cars. Most of them looked tired. Some were yelling into cell phones, others were looking over files balanced between their laps and the steering wheel. Some were bobbing their heads to music only they could hear. They all looked normal, some of them even looked happy.

I sighed and leaned back into the polyester seat. I smelled the tobacco smoke of old cigarettes.

The cabbie must sneak smokes in-between fares.

Watching the citizens of this marvelous city always filled me with the same melancholy. As a fed I never felt like I was one of them. To me they were always 'civilians' or 'the general public'.

I was always an outsider.

A ray of sun reflected off a glass skyscraper, and illuminated the white snow on the ground ... funny what you notice even in a black mood.

After twenty more minutes of an introspective cab ride I finally arrived.

I had completely forgotten that I would have to do a walk of shame past Paul. As I approached the door his grinning face was there to remind me. In fact, as he bit his lip, I had the distinct impression that he was trying to refrain from laughing...

"Mornin' John, I'm surprised you can even move this morning."

I sucked it up, prepared to laugh it off.

"Ha ha, Paul, good morning to you to ... yes, yes you'd be surprised the miracles R.E.C. can work on poor drunkards like me."

The smile suddenly slipped off his face, and he took a deep breath.

"Now John, everyone gets one ... that's the rule ... but if I ever have to scrape you off the floor of your office again ... we are going to have to have words." Paul's full ruddy face had an expression of the utmost seriousness. I'd often forget that Paul's cheerful good nature belied a secret intensity.

I nodded. I stuck out my hand and he grasped it firmly. His blue eyes looked straight into mine.

"I promise Paul."

His smile was back almost immediately. I scanned my card and he waved me through. I heard him whistling a tune as I stepped inside the elevator.

The elevator closed.

I was alone again.

The solitude reminded me of what I was about to face.

That elevator ride was the shortest of my life.

All too soon the door dinged again, and I stepped out into the familiar space. People looking pale and splotchy worked monotonously in the bullpen. Phones rang, faxes were made, and everything was the same.

Or so I told myself.

Jim, who must have been eyeing the elevator waiting for me, quickly appeared in front of me.

"Jonathan," he cried, "Good god, it took you over an hour to get here."

I started to inform him about the bad traffic ... but he waved me off.

"Never mind, never mind ... the girls are late coming back in from the hospital anyway, and they've only just arrived." Jim took a big breath and checked his watch.

"Great Scott it's almost eleven thirty," he grabbed my arm and began tugging me back towards the elevators. "Come on, I'll brief you while we walk, I've told them to hold the meeting until you arrive."

He punched in the basement.

I stole a quick look at him. He looked tired, but determined. His blonde hair was a little messy and his suit didn't look ironed.

Strange, Jim was usually immaculately dressed.

The door dinged open.

The basement contained the secret briefing rooms. This is where large scale undercover assignments are discussed. This is where people who were considered 'in danger' spent most of their stay at Federal Plaza. If the girls really where in trouble from UniCORP, then there was no safer place on the premises.

At least until we could get them into witness protection.

Jim immediately started bustling down the hallway. I had to jog slightly to catch up.

"They're being kept in room eight, I don't know if the Federal doctor has come in to talk to them yet." Jim said over his shoulder.

"Why the need for an Agency doctor, I thought these girls all got checked out at St. Marks?"

I drew level with Jim just in time to see him rolling his eyes.

"Because Jonathan ... we couldn't simply tell the local doctors about the chips. All they got down in the public hospital was a quick check to find any serious conditions. Now our man has to get a good look at the chips to see if we can get them off."

I felt my cheeks flush. Usually I was the one who did the explaining.

"Right," I said.

Room eight was at the end of the hall. There was a security guard at the door, and we both had to flash our passes at him before he allowed us in.

All the rooms down here looked like classrooms. There were a couple plain desks that you might see in any university, all facing a podium and a dry erase board.