The Choices of Staff Members of Hydra

13

OFFICE 17 (III)

"I have an exciting offer for you Mr. Glenn," Arnold Corliss said. "All you have to do to claim it is to listen carefully."

"I'm listening. Do I need to travel anywhere?" the voice on the other end of the line was even, unhurried. Corliss paused before continuing, a short pause that was nonetheless a pause that was as important as the conversation itself. A pause of two seconds meant that the information would be given in the conversation. A pause of three seconds meant that the information would be given in another way, possibly through the workplace that the asset used as cover. A pause of four seconds meant the asset would have already received the instructions. The asset in turn would pause in response, either two, three or four seconds, communicating that they understood what was expected and required. Corliss had paused for two seconds.

"Our main office is located in Denver, so if you're interested you would need to fly there in three days." In fact, the asset would leave immediately. Exact time was never given by phone.

"I can do that. Who am I meeting there?"

"Larry Sanchez. You can contact the office directly to set up the meeting time."

"Will others be in the meeting?"

"No one else is needed." Corliss added: "You are only to meet with Sanchez."

"Understood." The line went dead, and Corliss hung up his own phone, making a note as to the time of the conversation and the number of the asset, in this case he had spoken with Asset 3. The name of the supposed point of contact was a code, only the target was to be eliminated, and the body was to be left to be discovered. Asset 3 had been in his position for four years and was known to be best used for missions that required only one target to be killed, without witnesses or bystanders present. He was not used for missions that may include the killing of more than one target or if there could be a possibility of killing bystanders or witnesses. Asset 3 was still a well-respected asset; he was just one who had focused and particular talents.

Corliss had discovered before his training period was over that the asset numbers meant little, they changed often and there was no hierarchy among them. The assets died frequently, new ones were brought in, and the numbers would shift, but there were fewer assets currently then there had been in the past. There had at one time been eleven assets operating in the United States, but Corliss had files on only three, and Asset 1 who was considered completely separate. The only asset number that never changed was Asset 1, he was the one constant, the one who was at the top no matter the circumstances, and the one most likely to be deployed to kill fellow assets who were suspected of being traitors or who slipped into incompetency.

Corliss had been on the job on his own for only a few weeks but had been surprised at how much he found himself enjoying it. His earlier nervousness and misgivings were gone, he had discovered how much he reveled in sending the assets out as well as giving directions to the support staff. He felt powerful. At his command, through the use of only a few code words, he could end life. He could send out people to kill other people in any number of ways, either to never be seen again or to be found and assumed to be suicides or killed by common criminals or even the victim of hot tempers within families. No one knew it was really Corliss behind it, helping Hydra in their mission, so secretive nothing would ever be known to the wider world. It was more than enjoyable. It was intoxicating.

He put a blank page into the typewriter and typed up the new mission sheet, leaving blank the completion date and the full report number. He placed the partially finished sheet into the tray with a few others he was waiting for confirmation of completion and then went to file away the completed sheets from the other missions. Among them was the one in Sacramento, completed by Asset 1. Corliss experienced a different shiver when he looked at that sheet, he was no longer in awe or afraid, he actively longed for all of the details. He wanted the full report of how the mission was carried out, he wanted to have been there to see it. He filed the report sheet with a loving caress, almost disappointed when he only was able to shut the filing cabinet door. He wanted full control over Asset 1. He wanted to experience how it would feel to have control of such a powerful asset and deploy such a person anywhere at any time.

He knew he could not contact Asset 1 directly. He had no idea how to contact Asset 1, he was not allowed that level of access. It frustrated Corliss. He had direct communication to all of the other assets and support staff, some of whom were almost as ruthless and powerful as the assets themselves. He had tentatively inquired of Jonathan Meier on the last day of his training as to whether he would ever be able to be in communication with Asset 1.

"No," Meier had been very stern. "Never. He's only ever sent out by people on high, so high, so removed from us that we have no idea who they are. You'd better never even try to contact Asset 1. You'll regret it."

Corliss had nodded but he desired to make use of the asset that was so good he had never failed in a mission, had never failed to kill a target, and had never failed to take care of any witness. He had never been compromised in any way and been operating for decades somehow, without anyone ever questioning his competence. He was the best, and Corliss wanted control of the best. He smiled fondly at the towering filing cabinets. The office had once been oppressive to him, but it had become home in a very short time. He never wanted to leave. If it had been allowed, he would sleep there he loved it so much. He had found his calling in life, and he knew he was lucky to be in office 17.

The phone rang and he picked up the receiver without making a sound. The voice on the other end was the inflectionless voice that was somehow mechanical. Corliss had no idea if it was a real human being or not. It was the voice that told him of the missions, and it was the voice that also told him when a mission was completed. A date was given: 11/2/85, location: Los Angeles, a number: 3, another number: 2 and the three numbers at the end were to complete the report number: 446. Corliss hung up without saying anything and put the appropriate sheet into the typewriter. Asset 2 had eliminated three targets in Los Angeles on November 2nd. Corliss licked his lips as he pulled the finished sheet out the typewriter, feeling a warmth spread throughout his body. Intoxicating. Three people dead at his command. The power of it was almost too much for him to take. He leaned back in the old wooden chair, feeling himself growing hard.

He had hesitated to pleasure himself in the office, it seemed unprofessional. The first confirmation of the completion of a mission he had received after his training, when he was alone in the office, had given him an erection. He hadn't wanted to do anything about it, but his lust had throbbed, and he had finally been unable to wait, telling himself that no one ever came in anyway. It had been glorious to stand in that sacred space, as he thought of it, exposed, trembling, the pleasure coursing through him and puddling on the floor. After that, he always did what he had to do to achieve that delicious release. Whenever he received word of a completed mission, his lust was always too much to bear. He would think of the number of people killed, the power he had, and it would take no time at all for him to ejaculate, leaving him with shaking legs from the intensity of it, sweat dripping down his face. He would leave his pants undone as he would file everything away, then he would clean up after himself. There was nothing wrong with enjoying one's work, he reasoned. It could only make him better, not worse.

On that day, his hand worked quickly, and he groaned as physical proof of his pleasure emerged to fall onto the floor under the desk. Three targets at once left him panting and wanting further release as he imagined who was killed. A family perhaps, killed in their beds? A pair of witnesses in the wrong place at the wrong time, perhaps with shocked looks on their faces as they were killed? Or all three were the targets, all killed at once, in succession, to fall and die together. All of it was too wonderful for Corliss. He had never thought he would be someone who could enjoy such things, but he accepted that it was simply who he was. He grinned to himself and took his pants off completely. He would need to pleasure himself again, and he wanted to be able to do so without any hindrances.

If only he could see what actually happened. If only he could decide who would die, and who would live. If only he could control Asset 1, and maybe one day, all of Hydra, and all of the world. It was a dizzying thought, but he laughed quietly at the idea. Meier had been crazy, and maybe he was also going crazy, but in the end, if he could do his job well, no one would care.