A Number, Not a Name

When Duty Calls

Jason sat at his wooden desk quickly typing up an intelligence report which was soon due to be reviewed by the agency's leading executives. As he worked the typical office sounds of phones ringing, clattering keyboards, and co-workers chatting in their small cubicles echoed in the background. This had been his daily routine for the last couple of months ever since he had joined the agency: writing documents that reported the intelligence gathered on the various groups and people the agency was actively monitoring. He was almost finished with the nearly three-hundred-page government document when he heard a familiar voice call out his name from behind him. "Agent Whittaker."

Jason immediately spun his office chair around and his eyes came to rest on Deputy Director Donovan's secretary, Mrs. Patterson — a middle-aged petite woman who had wavy chestnut hair and gentle brown eyes. She continued speaking, her voice in a formal tone "Director Donovan would like to see you in his office."

"Of course" Jason answered.

He stood up from his chair and followed Mrs. Patterson out of his cubicle, down an aisle lined with rows of cubicles on both sides, through a doorway that led into a corner office, and past Mrs. Patterson's personal desk until they finally arrived at the door which led into Donovan's private office. Mrs. Patterson then knocked.

"Come in" came an older man's voice with a Scottish accent from the other side of the large oak door. Mrs. Patterson opened the door and entered the room before closing the door behind her.

"Sir, Agent Whittaker is here."

"Good, send him in."

"Of course, Sir."

Mrs. Patterson then opened the door and called out to Jason who was waiting in the next room. "Director Donovan will see you now."

"Thank you" Jason responded as he walked past Mrs. Patterson who was holding the door open for him as he entered the Deputy Director's office. Mrs. Patterson nodded before exiting the room and closing the door, leaving the two men alone to talk. The office in which Jason was now standing was a rather large room and a desk, with one chair in back and two in front, was located on one side. A credenza, on which rested stacks of files, was situated opposite the desk. On top of the desk was a pipe holder which held a thistle pipe belonging to the Deputy Director which he frequently smoked, causing an aroma of pipe tobacco to fill the air.

"You wanted to see me, sir," Jason said somewhat nervously, his eyes fixed on the rather intimidating man sitting behind the desk in front of him. Deputy Director Donovan was a man in his early sixties and of average height and stocky build. He had a ruddy face, white hair, and a white, neatly trimmed beard. He also had steel-gray that were capable of looking right through you, yet behind the intense expression, there was a hint of warmth that could be seen on occasion.

"Ah, yes Jason. You have been working here for a couple of months now and I feel that you are ready to undertake your first field mission" Donovan began.

"Really sir?" Jason responded with a slight grin on his face, unable to completely hide his excitement.

"Through your work here you have shown me that you possess all the attributes and qualities which I look for in a potential field agent. You're hard-working, determined, and intelligent. Something which makes me believe that you will be able to successfully complete this mission."

"Thank you, sir," Jason said, truly humbled and honored by Donovan's words.

At that moment a knock sounded at the door. "Yes," Donovan called out. The door then opened and Mrs. Patterson once again came into the room.

"Excuse me Director Donovan, but Agent Forbes has just arrived."

"Perfect...send her in."

"Of course sir." Mrs. Patterson then exited the office.