The Harvest

Page 10, CHAPTER TWO, WAR STRATEGY, THE HARVEST, PART ONE

THE HARVEST, page 10

PART ONE, THE GATHERING STORM

CHAPTER TWO:

WAR STRATEGY

©2017, Olan L. Smith

The following day, the two undercover agents, Kittie Anderson and Steve Harvison sat outside the Deputy Director's office. Kittiesaid to Steve, "He is already thirty minutes late, it is now 8:30     am, what's he up to. First he calls us in and now he makes us wait."

Steve replied, "I don't know but it is definitely above my pay grade to ask him. Relax, for a trained agent who specializes in waiting for the moment you seem to be a bit off. What's up?"

"Okay, I'll wait...nothing better to do." She tugged at her skirt and crossed her legs.

"I know you Special Agent Anderson, something is wrong, and I am going to figure it out."

"If you must know. I was getting to know Rivera Averrer pretty good, you know...Biblically. It's a perk of the job thingy," she lied, she was really in love with the perp. "And now it is just cut off. It's like withdrawal, I'll be over it in a few days, but I will be a bit moody for a while."

Okay, "I get it. We get too involved sometimes. You're not in love, are you? These criminals, they seem like normal people at home. You kind of forget what you're there for, eh?"

"You know me better than that. I'm straight business all the time type agent, I never let my guard down," she knew he was right but didn't want to admit it. It was more than sex with Rivera. He knew how to make her feel tingly all over, and all he had to do was just touch her and she was butter in his hand.

Trish looked up and said, "The Deputy Director will see you now."

Paul Wescott strolled out and announced, "Trish, I want my office on triple lock down. I don't want any interruptions and put up the radio interference shield, I don't want anyone eavesdropping on our conversation."

"Immediately, Deputy Director." The two spies looked at each other in bewilderment as they entered Wescott's office.

The Deputy Director walked to the back of his desk and pointed to two chairs in front of it gesturing to have a seat. The large window that overlooked the new FBI campus began to darken. They were already dark from the outside looking in, this was to remove all distractions. After they were seated Wescott spoke, "Special Agents Anderson and Harvison I brought you here because you're the best undercover spies the agency has on it payroll. What I am going to ask of you is more than top secret, no one in the agency knows, not even the Director. If you are caught I will deny any of it, and Trish has already erased all evidence on security cameras that you were even in the building. Everyone still believes you are in Miami. Otherwise, you don't exist on paper, and the FBI still believes you are on the case. Your boyfriend, what's-his-name, Rivera. He believes you are dead. We found a dead ringer for you and he is identifying her badly mangled body in the morgue as we speak. And your body double, Steve. It was dumb over ten miles off the coast, according to witnesses, and far enough out for the current to drive it north. The marine animals already have devoured the flesh and the bone are descending to the bottom of the Atlantic, the smugglers believe you're both dead."

Steve looked at Kittie, he could read her expression. He read in her eyes she was both mortified and horrified. Never in a million years did Steve think the FBI would kill innocent people to create a cover story. He looked at Deputy Director Paul Wescott and knew, he was not playing around, and whatever mission they were about to go on he knew it was going to be the hardest mission of their careers, and Wescott made it very clear that they were expendable. Steve thought, perhaps I'm naïve, and this type of cloak-and-dagger thing happened all the time. He was just under the impression it was more a thing the CIA would do and not the FBI, it was certainly not by the book. He looked at Kittie, their eyes met, they were thinking the same thing.

Wescott explained the mission to them and when he was finished he asked, "Is everything understood?"

The two spies nodded, yes.

"Good, I have five thousand dollars in petty cash for you, when that runs out that is it, get a job. Whatever you do don't use one of your aliases, create a new one. One mile from here on 4th and Henry St. you will find a black car, use it and the Canadian border patrol is instructed to let you in without a passport. You will be ghosts. The RCMP are expecting you. The Commissioner has assigned an inspector in Division E and one Sergeant Major to work with you. They will find you, do not seek them out." He dangled two sets of keys in front of him. These keys fit the car." He tossed the keys on his desk and the two agents each grabbed a set. "If you achieve your mission then come home, I will debrief you in private at this address." He wrote an address on a piece of paper and stuck the folded paper in Kittie's shirt pocket; he lingered there a bit longer than she felt comfortable with, but she knew this was a man who could snap his finger and make you disappear. "You are to leave, now. Shoo, get out of my office." 

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