Chapter 17

When I awoke on Monday, I felt better than I had in weeks. I was calm and relaxed. Tommy and Willie did more than all the chatroom nights had ever done for me. I just didn't have any pressure on me to perform for anyone, not even Control. Unfortunately the feeling didn't last near long enough.

I was up at seven rather than my usual 5 AM which was the biggest real change in my day. I still rode the bike out to breakfast. I just had a lot more traffic to deal with than usual, otherwise nothing changed. I still had the same breakfast, at the same restaurant. There were of course more men in suits inside the place. I probably should buy myself one of those little spandex riding outfits, I thought.

I ate at one of the concrete tables outside the restaurant. I would have preferred to sit at a table inside and have someone bring my breakfast, but I didn't feel like shopping for a different place just for bacon and eggs on a real plate. I mean the restaurant where I ate every morning was fine. I guess I was becoming a creature of habit.

"I should have gone to the waffle joint near the Office Plaza," I said aloud as I pedaled the bike from the parking lot. Once I was back at the apartment I set the computer up for my daily contact with Control. I had the day off so I couldn't really do anything other than see if Jeremy had been cleared of any criminal activity. I could at least get an update, if there was one. If not, I would try to find something reasonably fun to do.

The update was that there was nothing new to report. After I reported the same thing to Control, I signed off. From the email that never got sent I went to the college website and worked on my drawing lessons. To be honest I got lost in the drawing. I know producing artists go through binge periods at times. I guessed that I was in one myself at that time.

At the end of the day I had caught up with my online lessons. I was at a point where I should send a half dozen drawing in for a critique. I went to an office depot and had them faxed to the school's computer.

When I returned to the apartment, I packed the drawings, then I went back out to mail them to myself in Farmer's Grove. After I returned to the apartment I checked everything to be sure there was nothing left to connect Janet Anton to the drawings of Rose Seabold. It was basic spy craft 101.

Liam finally came back after I was all finished. "So you still mad at me?" I asked.

"I am never mad. I can't really have emotions these days. I do however chose not to watch you have sex with strangers," Liam said.

"So it would be okay if they weren't strangers?" I asked.

"Rose you know what I mean. There is no way you can justify this as part of the job," Liam said.

"You are right. Damn it I'm allowed some life of my own," I said.

"Be sure it doesn't end with you back in prison doing the remainder of your sentence," he suggested.

"I will do what I can, but surely Morris won't put me back for scratching an itch?" I asked.

"That woman is capable of anything," Liam said putting an end to the conversation by just vanishing.

"Bastard," I said to no one at all.

I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich then grilled it just like a cheese sandwich. I had read about it, so I had the chance and fixed it. It was pretty good, but I wouldn't be doing it again. It made a terrible mess.

I watched a little more TV on the web, then went to bed by 10 PM. I finally caught up on my sleep. So when I awoke on Tuesday, I was back in the game feeling better than I had in a while over all.

The bike ride into the morning air was really refreshing. I stopped for breakfast and still made it back in time for a long shower before I left for work.

I arrived in the parking lot ten minutes early. I fished my ID card out of the purse I had decided to carry for this job. The purse had a compartment in the handle where the clone drive could be and was stored. I wasn't sure that I could clone Michael Gold's computer with it, but it was the best option. It would leave no clue. If the computer would not load from the clone tool, I would have to start the Windows program which would leave a trail. No matter how hard I tried I could not get rid of it completely. Only by running the clone tool from the boot log would there be no tracks to cover. If I had to go with the second option, I had to pray Michael didn't have access to CIA software.

The problem for that morning was to get the purse with the drive past the guard and into the locker. Even there I had to get it into a safe place. That thing was poison with a capitol P. If the good guys ran across that program, we would have some heavy duty explaining to do. If the bad guys got it, I was going to be asked some painful questions for sure. Worst of all I didn't have any satisfactory answers, so the pain would never end. That part they didn't bother to go over at Church Camp, but I already knew about it. The reason they didn't cover it was there was no good options if I got caught. I was likely to die after having spilled my guts then convinced the bad guy it was all I knew.

I was as nervous as any woman could be, unless she was in the prison shower with a bunch of convicts with broom handles. I walked through the plaza's front door and showed Trish my new ID card.

"Hey girl look at you part of the team now," she said. "I didn't think you would come back to be honest."

"Oh why not?" I asked.

"With that body, I figured you would get a better offer by now," she said.

"Never was much of a pole dancer. I got no rhythm," I answered.

"That wouldn't matter. No one expects talent in those places," she said. It almost reminded me of Tommy.

"Possibly true but they keep the inside of strip clubs way to cold for a girl to be running around in half a bikini. Afraid I would be in the hospital too many times and they have no health insurance.

Trish laughed. "At least you could qualify for a job there. I'm one of those who would get told to put it all back on."

"Are you kidding men don't care what a woman in those places looks like. It's just how good you can make them think you screw," I said. "You know all men dream better than they screw."

"Now ain't that just the truth. Give me your bag. You surely remember we have to look inside anything that could hold a bomb," Trish said.

"What the hell do they do in here design rockets?" I asked.

"How the hell would I know. I just search handbags and briefcases," she said.

"Well I guess since you put it that way, I don't really care either. I did look at that list of contraband. Drugs, Drug paraphernalia, like either of us would recognize a drug kit," I said.

"Well I detained a guy who had a couple of hypodermic needles," Trish said.

"Let me guess," I interrupted. He was a diabetic.

"Yep, I thought I was going to lose my job. The head office told me that I did the right thing, but to remember his name and face. It might not be a good idea to make the same mistake twice. His name is Justin Stark in case I'm not here when he comes in," she informed me.

By the time we finished our conversation she cleared my handbag. I went to my locker removed the small wallet from the handbag and stuffed it into one of the pockets of the uniform pants. I left the purse in the locker. It was my intention to leave it that night and every night until I needed to remove the flash drive from the tricky handle. It was as good a way to hide the drive as any. It they did a random locker search, they would just find a forgotten woman's purse in a woman's locker. There would be nothing suspicious there. Well it would be a lot less suspicious than a flash drive would have been.

I began the day by having a little talk with the head of Human Resources. She wanted to know what I thought of the people I had met. I didn't have a bad thing to say about any of them. I figured if she asked me about security, I would have a comment or two but the people was her problem. I listened to her bullshit and answered with words from the manual. She seemed impressed most people probably waited till they needed an answer to read the silly thing.

After forty five minutes she sent me to Earl. He put me on the CCTV desk. That desk checked employees into the building and also checked the CCTV system as well as the electronic alarm systems. It was impossible to monitor them all, all the time so they recorded everything. The HR lady could go back a month and look at everything. That's how long after the computer theft I needed to hang around to clean my record.

Today I was working with Maddy. "See that blond?" Maddy asked. "She thinks no one knows she goes out on the roof to smoke. We have it all on tape. She goes out there twice in the morning and twice in the afternoon. Regular as clockworks." Maddy laughed.

"So you are telling me you know everyone's secrets?" I asked.

"Not everyone, and not all of anyone's secrets, but a little of most everyone's secrets," she said with a laugh. "There is a real squirrely looking guy and a chubby brunette who meet in the men's room for about ten minutes every couple of days at 3 PM."

"Are they married," I asked.

"Married, but not to each other," she sang with a laugh. "See some of everyone's secrets. I'll know yours before long."

"I don't have enough of that kind of secrets to make it worth looking at," I said. Maddy was about as old as Trish. I had no idea what her background was, since she seemed to be a very private person. I didn't want to be friends with any of the people who worked for the Office Plaza, so it suited me just fine if she didn't want to talk.

At the exact time the regular shift ended at 3:15 PM, I saw two young black males force a gate lock. I saw them before the alarm sounded. Maddy was gone but I was on training schedule so I wouldn't be going for another hour. Her replacement was a fat old bald man. He hadn't sat down at the time the alarm sounded.

"There," I said pointing to the monitor, "It's two young black males, wearing hooded sweat shirts and jeans. They are on foot, if you get the cops here they can probably get them easy enough."

"What is the procedure?" The fat guy asked.

"Call human resources and let them report it," I said.

"Right." With that he made the call while I worked the camera controls to film them breaking into a sedan. They rifled the glove box and then they popped the trunk and took a tool box and a couple of small bags. Could be drugs, I thought. I knew better than to comment. The reason I knew better was that something just wasn't right. I would have known it, even if Control wasn't interested in the goings on of Michael Gold.

We hemmed and hawed around for twenty minutes in which time they broke into three more cars before the cops showed up. The head of Human Resources and Captain Earl met them at the gate and let them into the parking lot. The chase I expected commenced and lasted five minutes. Twenty more minutes and it was time for me to leave. I left with the cops and the people from the Office Plaza talking with the boys. I had no idea what would happen nor did I care. They just didn't act right, but I wasn't exactly anyone's idea of a role model. Frankly I had been rooting for the thieves.