Inner Demons

1

Four days, 1 hour, 36 minutes, and 42 seconds since I arrived in Quantico, Virginia. For the third day in a row, I sit at the table closest to the door at The Chop House. I push a subpar salad around my plate with a fork, glancing at my watch every so often. 12:58 P.M. Time is almost up. The server brings my check and I pull a few bills out of my black leather wallet. I place the book on the table and check my watch again. 12:59. The server picks up my check and brings it back to get change. 1:00. Time is up. Damn it. The waitress brings me my change, $8.39, and I leave it out for a tip. I stand up to leave, draping my black pea coat over my arms. I begin to walk towards the door. I check my watch again, seemingly oblivious to the woman walking through the doorway. My shoulder slams into hers, causing her purse to fall to the floor.
"Oh!" She exclaims, an annoyed look passing her face just as quickly as it fades. I pick up the dropped purse and hold it out to her.
"I'm so sorry," I say. "I need to pay more attention."
"It's no problem," she replies. She's an awful actor. Her tone gives her away. I nod and walk out the door to my car, a black Mercedes S-Class. I slide into the leather seat, pressing the start engine button. I turn on the audio, and tune my radio to the channel I had memorized days earlier. Static fills my ears, then the sound of restaurant chatter. Perfect. The grating buzz of a phone vibrating against wood harmonizes with the static.
"Garcia, what's up?" The audio quality isn't perfect, but I can hear her clearly. "Yeah, I'd love to."
"What is it you'd love to do?" I think as the line goes quiet.
"I'm not sure, we just went there last week. What about O'Keefe's?" She resumes. "Perfect. Meet you there. Bye."
I take that to mean the call is over. I turn the audio off and pull onto the street. Looks like I'm going to O'Keefe's tonight.

I pull the Mercedes into the parking garage of the apartment building. My heels click against the concrete as I walk to the elevator. Instrumental music plays softly over the speakers as it rises, stopping at the fifth floor. I unlock my door and head inside, triple bolting the door behind me. I crouch on the wood floor of the kitchen and open the far left cabinet. I push aside the pots to see the back of the cabinet. I slide the keycard out of my sleeve and run it over the back. It slides open to reveal my safe and I quickly punch in the code. The door swings open and I pull out two devices. First, I switch on the signal jammer. Once the blinking red light turns green, I unlock the phone. I dial the number I had memorized days before and put it to my ear. Three rings later, the line is active. The person on the other end does not speak.
"Initial contact has been made. The device has been planted. Possible next interaction at an undetermined time tonight. Will update at 0600 tomorrow."
The line goes dead, so I turn off the jammer and return both to the safe. I pull the false back closed, and arrange the pots in front of it. It's been too long, usually I establish contact within two days. Hopefully O' Keefe's tonight will yield better results.