The Imperfect Plan

9

The sun ascended on the horizon as the driver of the unmarked vehicle made a left hand turn into the condominium. A sudden burst of sunlight illuminated the area as sunglow broke through the low clouds. Flashing devices mounted next to the letters G.M.C. on the front grille of the vehicle blinked red and blue; while the headlights flashed white.

The driver applied the brakes and squealed the tires as he came to a halt. Three other Yukon stopped behind the lead vehicle and agents stepped out, each to a specific location on the front yard of the house in question.

Clipping the radio to his belt, agent Riggs inserted the earpiece and adjusted the volume. The instructions to coordinate their movement were already being relayed. As he listened, he walked past a convertible Ford Mustang parked on the driveway and headed to the front door. He breathed out in rolling clouds of steam.

Rigging the doorbell insistently, he looked down at the worn door mat, then at the side windows. He noticed that the curtains were down and he caught a reflection of a female agent on the glass. The wind whipped a strand of long blonde hair across her face and she snagged it back behind her ear. Another agent appeared into view, this one checked for hiding places behind the shrubs below the window.

The door handle rattled, a bolt was unlocked and he returned his attention to in front of him. A moment later he was staring at a tall blond man with short curly hair. He had brown eyes with dark eyebrows. He was wearing a navy button down shirt with blue jeans.

He was suddenly aware of the Special Agents around his lawn and he wondered what the hell was going on. Clearing his throat, he asked. "Can I help you?"

The agent in front of him reached under his suit, pulled out his wallet and flashed his credentials.

"We are with the Department of Internal Affairs. Are you Michal Miller? The Federal Reserve's Manager?"

Miller darted his eyes from the agent's credentials to the agent's face while feeling his stomach tightening. Why is the government interested in me? He arched his brows in concentration.

"Yes..." he finally replied.

"Sir, we need you to come with us."

"Wow...wow...wait." Miller hesitated,

"What's the matter? Where are we going? Why do I have all these agents on my lawn?"

As he was asking all these questions, the other agents started closing in with their hands under their suits.

"If I were you, I wouldn't balk." Agent Riggs said gravely.

Michael Miller walked quickly to the dark GMC Yukon and got in. The vehicle took off with a squeal of its tires before Miller had the time to fasten the seat belt. The Internal Affairs Agent Riggs sat on the front passenger seat. He opened the glove compartment box and retrieved a small camera recorder. Flipping its screen, he turned the camera on and looked at Michael.

"Sir, at six hundred hours we received a warning in our surveillance monitors that the C.E.O had infiltrated a sector of the underground vault."

Agent Riggs waited for questions, but it never came. The Bank Manager just stared at him.

"Take a look." He said while holding the camera with the screen facing Michael.

The video on the screen flashed in and out as it trying to find its focus. A time frame started rolling at the bottom of the screen. At first, all he saw was an empty room with a door closed. A few seconds went by before the door opened and a tall man entered the room. Michael arched his eyebrows as he continued to watch the video.

The intruder started running until disappearing out of view. Another camera angle filled the screen. This one was mounted above the doorway, recording the corridor at the other end of the massive room. What Michael saw next was something he'd never seen in his life. The actions the intruder took were stunning, fast-paced, orchestrated.

"My God..." He whispered while looking puzzled at agent Riggs.

"We have agents at the headquarters searching for an identity match through our database. So far he is unknown and whomever he works for is a mystery."

Michael looked out the window and noticed that they were now passing the Treasury building.

The driver pressed the horn steadily in short beeps. Cars zipped by endlessly. Michael returned his gaze to agent Riggs. Then, he looked past him and noticed the traffic light turning red at the intersection ahead. He glanced at the driver.

"Slow down...can't you see the red light up ahead?!"

Silence.

The driver seemed not to care. Michael closed his eyes and turned his head as they were approaching the intersection.

"We're going to crash..."

"Mr. Miller, please relax..." Agent Riggs comforted him.

"...I'm not ready to die..."

"...Nothing is going to happen, sir..."

"...Help me God!"

The driver ran the red light, dodged between two D.C. transit buses and rapidly accelerated. Michael slowly re-opened his eyes and noticed that the threat vanished. He shot a glance at Agent Riggs.

"What the hell is his problem?"

Riggs shrugged, and smiled while staring straight ahead.

Michael felt a panic feeling settling in, and his mind flooded back with thoughts of the matter at hand...we received a warning in our surveillance monitors that the C.E.O had infiltrated a sector of the underground vault...Michael recalled what the agent had said. But the video he had seen was not of Francisco.

If the intruder was in possession of Mr. Cardelini's access card, then...

"Where is Mr. Cardelini now?" He raised his eyebrows.

There was a long silence. Only the sound of the engine was heard.

"I am sorry, Mr. Cardelini didn't make it."

He leaned back on the seat.

"Any idea on what did the intruder came after?" He asked while staring out the window. He used the door cushion to rest his left elbow.

"No sir, we are still working on that."