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“Excuse me.”
Callie had just pointed out where the restrooms were located to a young mother of two. She turned to the other side of the information kiosk to respond to the speaker. To her shock, Callie found herself face to face with Paul Reynolds himself. Steeling herself, she managed to keep her expression neutral.
“Yes sir,” she responded hoping her tone was suitably professional and didn’t give away the fact that her pulse was beating in triple time.
“Can you tell me which gallery the Crawford exhibit is in?”
Callie’s mind went blank.
“The Crawford exhibit?” She repeated trying to buy some time for her mind to catch up. “Let me double check that quickly.”
Reynolds huffed. “I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
“Of course,” Callie replied, “One moment.”
She reached into her bag for the brochures she’d taken from the conference room. As she yanked them out her agency ID flew out and landed on the counter.
Horrified, Callie looked at the ID and then into Reynold’s face. There was no mistaking the fact that he knew exactly was it was and what it meant.
He turned and ran toward the gallery exit. Without hesitating, Callie vaulted over the counter and followed him. She vaguely heard Thompson (a veteran agent posing as a security guard) calling for her to stop.
The logical part of her knew she was disobeying orders by going after Reynolds. She wasn’t even armed! But she’d been the one to mess up the operation. It was up to her to fix the situation.
The information broker had the advantage of familiarity with the museum layout from his previous visits, but Callie managed to keep up. He entered the main lobby with Jackson right on his tail. The lobby featured multiple skylights that allowed the sun’s beams to enter and bounce off a dazzling glass installation in the center. Reynold sprinted past it and up a set of stairs leading to the outdoor sculpture garden. Callie knew that if he made it outside he could easily escape over the fence lining the property.
Desperate to salvage the operation, she shouted “Stop! Federal Agents! You’re surrounded!” She hoped that would at least make him pause long enough to allow her to close the gap.
Instead, Reynolds turned to face her while simultaneously reaching into his jacket. At that same moment, the cloud parted and a beam of sunlight reflected off the art piece directly into Callie’s eyes, blinding her.
Callie felt the impact of being tackled as she heard a loud pop that sounded like someone had set off a firecracker. The wind was knocked out of her, and it took a moment before she was able to react. She looked at her hands and was surprised to see they were covered with red. Then she looked over to see who had flattened her.
Oh God! It was Lee! A pool of blood covered the floor beneath his body. His eyes were open, but lifeless. Even as she started CPR, Callie knew it was no use. He was gone.
A agent whose name she didn’t know pulled her off of him and demanded, “What the hell happened?”
Before she could say anything, Thompson answered breathing heavily from his pursuit, “She was chasing after Reynolds when he pulled a gun. Stetson got between them and took the bullet.”
At that moment, a cry of anguish caught everyone’s attention, and they turned toward the source.
Pale and trembling, Amanda stood staring at the body of her beloved husband for a heartbeat before throwing herself down beside him.
Tears flowed from her brown eyes as looked up at Callie.
“I should never have trusted you.”
Callie’s eyes flew open as she sat straight up. Breathing heavily she looked around, surprised to find herself in her dark bedroom instead of the bright museum lobby.
“It was a just a nightmare,” she repeated over and over. With her arms wrapped around herself she rocked back and forth until the panic subsided and her heartbeat finally slowed.
Nightmares were nothing new to Callie. She had been plagued by them since her youth. Even back then, there had been no one to comfort her when she was overtaken by bad dreams. That meant Callie had had to teach herself how to calm down.
Through the years the frequency had lessened. As a adult, nightmares had usually only taken over her mind when she was worried or stressed.
Callie had completed several classes in the psychology field, but even without her education she could have interpreted what the dream meant. She was afraid of making a mistake tomorrow that would ruin her relationship with Lee and Amanda. Despite Amanda’s reassurances, Callie still couldn’t shake off the feeling that at any moment she would do something to ruin that connection.
“Stop it,” she told herself, “You’re prepared. You probably won’t be anywhere near Reynolds tomorrow. Besides, none of your research has indicated that he’s ever even owned a gun let alone is that good of a shot. He keeps his hands…and everything else…clean.”
Callie forced herself to lay back in bed, close her eyes, and take deep breaths. Fortunately, she fell back asleep until she woke up at 5:30 am sharp. Years of military academy life had ingrained that habit into her. She still set an alarm just in case, but Callie always woke up and turned it off before it could sound.
Normally, she would have gone for a run before coming back to her apartment to shower and dress for work. Today, she quickly showered and fixed her hair. Callie usually wore very little makeup, but decided the day warranted more effort. Her museum temp uniform was at the office so she put on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. After a gulping down a glass of milk and some toast, she headed for IFF.
The office was still fairly quiet, but a few more agents than usual were at their desks. This was a little disconcerting for Callie who was normally one of the first ones there even when she had a morning run. A steady stream of agents entered one or two at a time making their way to the locker room to get dressed. Everyone was prepared and in the conference room for the 8:00 am meeting. The museum opened at 10, and they would be leaving shortly.
The room was buzzing with energy as Lee made his way to the front. For a second, Callie flashed back to her nightmare and the image of his body lying on the floor. She shook her head clearing the memory from her mind. Callie was not about to lose her focus on the most important day of her rookie year.
Lee raised his hand for attention and everyone went silent. He briefly reviewed the plan, reminding everyone to concentrate on their assignment.
“We’re a team. It’s essential that every team member do their job. That’s how we’re going to figure out what Reynolds is up to. Now let’s head out and be careful. I want to see everyone back here safe and sound for the post-operation briefing.”
Most of the agents quickly boarded the buses with “Federal Temp Services” on the sides. As their cover, they were working for a service providing fill-ins for the museum’s employees who were on the staff retreat. Amanda, Lee, and the other agents manning the control center had already boarded a white van and were on their way.
The Hampton was relatively close, and despite the traffic the buses made good time. They pulled around to the back of the building where they disembarked and entered the door labeled “Employee Entrance”. A group of senior agents herded everyone into the museum’s small theater.
A tall thin man was standing on the stage. He was dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and gray tie. Callie was seated in one of the back rows but even from that distance, it was evident he was very nervous. He was continually mopping his brow with a handkerchief and very fidgety. A woman in black pants and a blue blouse who seemed to be his assistant was standing next to him with a clip board. At her signal he walked over to the podium located at center stage.
“Good morning.” As he spoke into the microphone there was a squeal of feedback which made him jump. His assistant stepped forward and reached under the podium to make an adjustment. She then indicated he should speak again.
“Good morning,” he repeated this time without any interference. “My name is Dr. Robert Barrett. I am the executive director of the Hampton Museum. I want to welcome you….temporary employees. I must admit that I am a little uncomfortable allowing all of you to take over, I mean step in, for our staff. However, I have been assured by your….company that all of you have been well trained and are prepared.”
He cleared his throat before continuing. “The Hampton has a shining reputation not only for its outstanding collection, but also for the manner in which the museum is run. We take great pride in both the appearance of our building and the services we provide to our visitors. I trust all of you will conduct yourselves in a manner that does nothing to negatively impact it.”
Callie pressed her lips together. It was obvious Dr. Barrett was not pleased about having agents in the museum. She wondered how the agency had managed to convince him to allow an operation of this level to occur in what he clearly considered to be his building.
At that moment Dr. Barrett glanced at the back of the theater. Out of the corner of her eye, Callie caught a slight movement to her left. Glancing back, she saw Amanda giving a warm smile while nodding encouragingly at the speaker.
Of course! Only Amanda’s reassuring nature and Class C interrogation skills could have convinced Barrett to make this mission possible. Callie could only imagine how much time and effort it had taken on her mentor’s part to make Operation Turpentine a reality.
The director continued on for a few more minutes. Sadly, his comments were basically reiterations of the initial reminder that he expected today to run smoothly. It seemed like he intended to go on forever. Then his assistant cleared her throat signaling that he needed to wrap it up. With one last reminder he wished everyone good luck, and the agents were dismissed to take up their positions.
“I mean really,” Ashley’s voice dripped with distain as she and Bev made their to the gift shop passing by Callie. “How hard is it to work a cash register? It’s not like I’m dismantling a bomb.”
At that moment Thompson approached her. “Ready?” He asked.
Callie nodded. “Absolutely.”
Then the senior agent glanced around. “Ummm, which way is it again?”
Callie suppressed a smile. “I believe it’s that way,” she said pointing to his right. She began walking in the correct direction, and he fell into step next to her.
Upon arriving at their post, they immediately turned on their earpieces. Due to the large number of people involved in the operation, only those manning the control room had access to the microphones. Those on the museum floor had their phones with direct access to the control room.
The doors must have opened promptly at ten o’clock because visitors began entering the Contemporary Art Gallery a few minutes after. From her vantage point at the information kiosk, Callie had a clear view of the entrance as well as the doorway on the perpendicular wall that led to a small room featuring an exhibit focusing on graffiti art. A display stand of pamphlets for other tourist attractions stood on both sides of the kiosk. It was Callie’s “job” was to make sure the stand remained fully stocked as well as answering any questions.
The Hampton’s addition of contemporary art to its collection had begun just over a year earlier. The gallery did contain a few pieces by well-known artists of the genre, but the museum was better know for its more traditional works. As a result, the number of visitors to the galley was fairly low. Fortunately, this made it easy for the agents to keep an eye on the visitors’ comings and goings. Unfortunately, it also meant time passed very slowly for the two of them.
When their replacements arrived to relieve them for lunch, Callie had a difficult time believing it had only been two hours.
There had been a couple of reports of agents spotting someone who was believed to be Reynolds over the earpieces, but they turned out to be mistaken. Callie was beginning to wonder if he would even show up. Maybe he had noticed the new staff and had been spooked.
Thompson walked out the door and veered to the left. Realizing that he had no idea how to get to the employee cafeteria, Callie diplomatically asked, “Oh, do we need to check something in the Renaissance galley before we go to the lunchroom?”
“Huh? Ah…no,” the senior agent fumbled. “I guess I can do that later. Let’s go get lunch first.”
“Sounds good,” she responded turning to the right. She led him down a hallway to a plain gray door. Swiping her temporary employee pass over the electric lock, Callie waited for the beep before opening the door.
“After you,” she said indicating Thompson should go first. Callie followed him into the bright employee cafeteria. Most of the seats at the round tables were already taken by agents. Some were just finishing their forty-five minute break and preparing to return to their assigned posts. Others were mid-meal. A few like Callie and Thompson were moving toward the food line just staring their downtime.
Considering it was cafeteria fare, the food looked pretty good. Callie was tempted to fill her tray. However, the thought of having to fight off a post-meal food coma while manning the less than exciting Contemporary Gallery meant she opted for a salad instead.
Thompson must have had similar thoughts choosing a sandwich and chips despite his repeated glances toward the roast beef and mashed potatoes.
He pointed toward a table whose inhabitants were standing up to leave. “C’mon,” he said, “let’s put our trays down to save a seat before we get our drinks.”
She was a bit surprised he planned on sitting by her. Callie had noticed an open place at a table of his fellow senior agents. She opted for water while Thompson choose the ice tea.
“So,” he asked after taking a couple bites, “what do you think of your first official day in the field so far?”
“Honestly?” She asked.
Thompson nodded, “Honestly.”
“It’s….not as…stimulating as I hoped.”
Her table mate chuckled. “Exactly. This is what most of field work is like. You spend the whole time waiting for something to happen and all you end up with is sore feet.”
“How long have you been with IFF?” she asked.
“A little over eight years,” he answered. “It’s kinda strange because I originally had no interest in…documentary films.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, growing up I spent most of my time outdoors. Where I lived there were hiking trails, rivers for fishing, lakes for boating, and tons of places to camp. I actually went to school to be a fish and game warden.”
“What happened?” Callie asked.
“I found myself really enjoying the required criminal justice classes, and I was good at them. One of my instructors suggested I shadow a couple law enforcement officials. After that, I talked with my advisor and changed my major…to media arts” Thompson winked as he took a bite of his sandwich.
After a pause she questioned, “Do you ever regret it?”
“Absolutely not,” Thompson replied shaking his head. “Best decision I ever made. Then I lucked out and was recruited by the agency. Lucked out again when I ended up in Stetson’s bureau. As far as section heads go, he’s the best.”
Callie nodded. She wholeheartedly agreed, and it had nothing to do with her personal connection to her mentor’s husband. Coming from a military-centered education, a large portion of her studies had focused on leadership. Lee Stetson was a walking combination of many of the best qualities possessed by leaders she had learned about as well as served under. He never asked anyone to do anything he wasn’t willing to do himself. Lee held himself and those around him to high expectations. Yet, he understood there would always be times a agent might struggle or fail. Rather than berate them, Lee provided support and guidance. He was firm, but fair. Callie was fairly certain his agents would follow Lee anywhere.
After chatting for a few more minutes, they each used the restroom before returning to their post. To neither’s surprise, the replacements’ time in the Contemporary Gallery had been uneventful in their absence.
After verifying her earpiece was back on, Callie spent the next ten minutes tidying up the kiosk and the display. She had just returned to her spot behind the desk when someone caught her eye.
“It can’t be,” she thought.
A man in an expensive suit had entered the gallery. As he scanned the room, Callie picked up a clipboard. She wrote the time and then counted the number of visitors which she also wrote down. It was part of her duties, but it also allowed her a chance to get a better look at him.
It was. It was Paul Reynolds!
This was the last gallery she had expected him to turn up in. She focused on playing the part and not calling attention to herself. It was relief when an older couple approached her asking for directions to the outdoor cafe. Callie took her time showing them the map and explaining the best route giving her time to covertly study the focus of their assignment.
Instead of passing by each piece, he seemed to be looking for something. His distain for most of the modern pieces was apparent on his face.
Callie was relieved when she glanced over at Thompson and he nodded slightly indicating he’d spotted Reynolds as well. The senior agent stepped away turning his back to her as he discreetly phoned in the sighting. He continued to play the part of the security guard, alertly observing but not spending too much time in any one place.
Reynolds began moving toward a corner of the room. Callie was puzzled why he would be heading in that direction. Thompson discreetly positioned himself in a spot where he could see Reynolds.
Unfortunately, at that moment a woman choose to approach Thompson. Everything about her screamed “tourist” from the giant sunglasses perched on her head to her red, white, and blue flag-themed t-shirt to the camera hanging around her neck. She had a black jacket tied around her waist and was waving a book at him.
“Where is the Matthews painting?” She demanded loudly.
“Uh,” Thompson had been concentrating on Reynolds and was taken aback by the question.
“This guidebook says if you come to the Hampton, you have to see the Matthews. So I came in here to see the Matthews. But the Matthews is not here. I walked all around this room. What kind of scam is this? I didn’t prepay for a ticket to get ripped off.” Her volume continued to rise with each sentence she uttered.
Reynolds, along with everyone else in the room, turned and stared at the two of them.
Without a second thought, Callie closed the distance between her and the pair.
“You have to pardon us ma'am,” she started smoothly, “we are still getting used to the fact that the Matthews has been temporary relocated.”
She continued at a volume just loud enough for Reynolds to hear. “It’s currently a part of a new exhibit called “Art in Bloom” located in the North Gallery. It’s meant as a study of how flowers have been depicted in various mediums throughout the history of Art. It’s a wonderful exhibit that I’m sure you’ll enjoy. I can even show you a shortcut to get there faster.” Callie was gently guiding her toward the door as she spoke. “In fact, here’s a pass that will allow you to go to the front of the line.”
That seemed to placate her, and after Callie pointed out a quicker route through the Renaissance gallery and threw in a coupon for half off at the gift shop she happily trotted off.
When Callie turned around to go back to her post, she locked eyes with Thompson who mouthed “thank you”.
Meanwhile, Reynolds had positioned himself in front of a piece in the corner titled “Fragile Beauty” which Callie found very strange. Even more strange, he seemed more interested in the placard about the piece than the work itself. Then he turned and walked directly toward the kiosk.
Bracing herself to answer a question, Callie was surprised when Reynolds walked over to the display of pamphlets and took a couple. He then bent down to retrieve one from the bottom right corner. From her vantage point she could see that he had retrieved the brochure from back of the stack. Most surprising of all, it was promoting an outdoor children’s play area. Slipping them into the inner pocket of his stylish suit coat, he calmly walked toward the door.
Thompson pulled out his phone and quietly spoke to someone. Meanwhile, Callie’s curiosity had gotten the better of her and she walked over to “Fragile Beauty”. She studied the placard and suddenly called out, “Thompson, it’s the brochure! We have to stop him!”
Her fellow agent nodded and spoke into the phone again.
A calm voice that Callie recognized as Amanda’s came over the loudspeaker.
“Your attention please. Due to an emergency situation taking place directly outside of the Hampton we are temporarily on lockdown. This means no one will be allowed to enter or leave the building until the area is deemed safe. Please continue to enjoy our collection, and we will make an announcement as soon as the lockdown is over.”
Callie and Thompson exchanged knowing glances. There was no way Reynolds could escape now. Or at least that’s what they thought.
Suddenly lights began flashing and a siren sounded. The fire alarm had been pulled.
In a loud, but calm voice Callie firmly announced, “The fire exit is located through this door and to the right.” She pointed toward the room with the graffiti display.
“I’ll cover this exit,” Thompson said. “You go help with the main exit. They’re going to need all eyes possible if he tries to slip out that way.”
She nodded and hurried toward the lobby. She was halfway there when she heard someone yelling. Callie was not surprised when it turned out to be the woman who had been looking for the Matthews.
“Are you okay ma’am? Are you hurt?” She asked.
“That man stole my rain jacket!”
“What man?” Callie asked looking around.
“The one in the fancy suit. I was just about to put it on since someone said it was raining. Suddenly, he grabbed it right out of my hands!”
“What does the jacket look like?” Callie demanded.
“It’s just a basic black rain jacket with a hood. And I’ll tell you one thing..”
Callie raced away without hearing the one thing leaving the woman in a huff. The number of people trying to leave at the same time had caused a bottleneck so she used her employee pass to gain access to the maintenance hallway. Callie quickly phoned in the information about the black hooded jacket as she hurried to her destination. She came out a side door into the lobby right by the exit as the bottom of the stairs.
Her heart sank when she saw the number of black hooded jackets. How would she ever identify Reynolds. That is if he were even still in the building.
“Thank goodness it’s raining,” she thought remembering her dream. “There’s no chance of me getting blinded by a reflection.”
Then it hit her. Of course! A reflection! She focused her attention on the patrons’ shoes and spotted what she was looking for at the top of the stairs. Luckily her prey was coming down on her side of the bannister. The other agents were too far away to alert. She only had seconds. All she could do was wait until he came closer and hope that her training would be enough.
Reynolds was too focused on the door to notice her standing there. As soon as he was close enough Callie pounced. She took hold of his arm and forced it upward while taking out his legs from under him. He landed on the floor with a thud and Callie on top of him. As Callie used her weight to keep him down, she turned to the wide-eyed tourist staring at her with his mouth open.
“Go get a security guard,” she ordered.
He returned in less than a minute with agent named Garland. He took one look at Callie’s prisoner and spoke into his phone. Within seconds, three more agents were surrounding them.
Lee’s voice came through the earpieces. “Nice work. Cuff Reynolds and bring him to room 107.” Then he added, “And Jackson, you come along too.”
With all the background noise, Callie couldn’t distinguish from Lee’s tone whether she was about to be congratulated for the capture or reprimanded for leaving her post.
“Oh well,” she thought, “guess I am about to find out.”