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The meeting took place in a secluded office in the New York City FBI headquarters located at Federal Plaza. FBI ASAC Jubal Valentine sat across from Nikki Reynard, the Deputy Chief of Station for the CIA. They were discussing an agenda that entailed blazing new territory by creating something hybrid, and that was a mission-driven CIA/FBI Joint Task Force. That drastic step was necessary because both agencies had heard chatter about a subversive plot regarding a very advanced weapon of mass destruction currently up for grabs, most likely to the highest bidder. By combining their intel as well as their enhanced resources, both agencies would be better able to carry out their directives of keeping the United States safe from a dangerous threat.
It made sense for the two diverse entities to work together to ensure national security since the CIA could only perform their clandestine magic on foreign soil outside of the United States, while the FBI’s jurisdiction ended at the borders of America and its sovereign territories. So, collaboration was a good thing, even if it had to be kept pretty much under the radar.
Jubal was currently attempting to reassure his new colleague that he had the perfect man for the liaison job. “Bill Goodman is the salt of the earth. Grew up in the Midwest, aced Quantico, and has had success working cases during the last ten years in narcotics as well as organized crime. He’s handled kidnappings, violent offenders, and been part of major case squads.”
“Why do I feel like you’re overselling his good qualities?” Nikkie Reynard asked softly, perhaps displaying the distrustful demeanor that was a CIA trademark.
Jubal smiled. “I’m not really overselling anything, Nikki. Bill is everything I just said. He shows up every day prepared and pressed. He believes in the system and gives off a Boy Scout vibe. He builds cases brick by brick by being very detail oriented. And that’s a good thing in my book.”
Nikki didn’t look totally convinced. “Well, from my perspective, it sounds like your guy is only a good agent if he follows orders to the letter, doesn’t question or push back to make waves, and maybe doesn’t think out of the box. In my world, things are not always black and white. Our successful operatives are comfortable working in the grey areas, and sometimes rules get stretched to a breaking point. How uncomfortable, or should I say productive, would Agent Goodman be in that scenario?”
“I suppose the only way to find out is to put this thing in motion,” Jubal shrugged.
Nikki was thinking of her own dilemma on the other side of the equation. Pairing a “by the book” agent with a “chaotic loose cannon” like Colin Glass could end in disaster. The CIA’s problem child might not play well with someone who represented a responsible adult. Could a paragon of rules like Bill Goodman keep Colin grounded and force him to collaborate while providing oversight?
*****
Just like the CIA Deputy, Bill Goodman began to suspect that his superior was utilizing hyperbole to convince him that this idea of temporarily being farmed out to the CIA was some kind of reward for services rendered. Bill knew he was good at his job, but he wasn’t exactly someone the FBI would likely trot out to the world as the poster boy for their success stories. He was the first to admit that others saw him as bland, straightlaced, and plodding when he was slowly building cases by the book instead of using shortcuts to streamline the process. Nonetheless, he followed the letter of the law without flinching or allowing himself to cave under peer pressure.
And on a personal note, he tended to be a loner and didn’t encourage closeness with associates. Actually, he thought it was prudent to keep them at arm’s length. He maintained his job and his personal life as separate entities, so beers with the guys at the end of the workweek never happened. He was happier spending his downtime with his fiancé. Katie was a sweet, unpretentious pediatric occupational therapist who made him feel whole and comfortable in his own skin. Now he was being informed that he had to keep this new posting a secret from her, and that made him feel deceitful. He had always been totally honest with the person he had been in love with since college, and now with his new responsibility that was going to change.
What also kept niggling at the back of Bill’s mind was something even more disturbing. He knew the CIA’s penchant for flouting the rules, so was he being thrown into shark-infested waters by his own team because he was thought to be expendable if it all went to hell? Was he about to commit career suicide if he agreed to accept his new assignment? But at the end of the day, he was a Special Agent who followed orders, so he resigned himself to participating in this new experiment because he really hadn’t been given a choice in the matter. Now he just hoped he wouldn’t wind up becoming an embarrassing failure.
*****
With no small amount of trepidation, Bill pocketed the address of the CIA’s clubhouse in Manhattan as well as the access code that would allow him to step into a mythical Neverland. He whimsically wondered if he’d be taught a secret handshake or be given a special decoder ring to hang on his new tool belt. Upon reaching his destination in a high-rise building, a man who breezily introduced himself as Colin Glass, his new partner, met him outside of one last locked door. With prompt efficiency, Bill was informed about the protocol of leaving his phone and his weapon stored away in a lockbox before he crossed the final threshold of the CIA’s clandestine bunker in the center of a metropolis of 74,000 people who didn’t know it even existed right under their noses.
Bill wasn’t sure what he expected, but everyone he was introduced to in a small circle of specialists in the hidden away hub appeared to be friendly. Even his new partner seemed to accept his presence without any attitude. Bill sized Colin Glass up and concluded that they were probably of similar age. The guy had a neat moustache with day-old scruff on his face which made him look handsomely macho in a rugged kind of way. Apparently, the CIA didn’t have a dress code because he was togged out in tight jeans, a black leather jacket, and running shoes. Bill hadn’t expected to hear the cultured British accent coming out of his mouth, but he’d wager odds that would make the spy seem suave and sophisticated to members of the opposite sex, or maybe even to persons who shared the same gender.
Later, Bill would learn that Colin had been born in the United States, but for whatever reason, had been raised in England. However, as a young man he had returned to Washington DC to attend college, which is probably when he came to the attention of certain shadow people. An FBI agent would also learn that aspiring spies didn’t ask to join a clandestine organization. They didn’t seek out the job. Instead, the job found them, usually in institutions of higher learning. The recruiters were always on the lookout for gifted candidates with sharp observational skills who could read a room and were capable of improvisation at the drop of a hat. Apparently, Colin Glass had fit the profile, which made Bill wonder how much of his new partner’s demeanor was real and how much was an act to make a new albatross drop his guard.
And Bill was right. Colin did view his new partner as an impediment and a burden foisted on him as a type of leash. He didn’t feel he needed or even warranted a babysitter, although Nikki had dressed the idea up to seem like she was gifting him with a blue-ribbon prized bull at the county fair. Maybe it was true that he had experienced a devastating setback when working an undercover op in the Philippines a year ago. It had left him mentally reeling like a punch drunk after someone had been blown up in his stead. Because he had been late to a meet, his female lover/partner had died at the hands of assassins who were probably out to get him because he had been getting too close to their nexus.
Nikki had immediately pulled a heartsick man out of the field and kept him under her thumb. Now it seemed that she was passing the torch to an FBI agent to provide oversight to keep him safe. And although he’d never show it, Colin was resentful. However, like the true actor that he was, he sublimated his feelings of bitterness behind a façade. He played nice with a guy who looked like he had a pole up his bum, and he teased and joked to create a sense of camaraderie. Colin was very good at playing roles because there were certain perks to this apples-and-oranges pairing. Colin’s new sidekick carried a gun and handcuffs that could come in handy from time to time.
Nonetheless, the CIA’s operative was pursuing his own agenda on the down-low, and he hoped Bill Goodman wouldn’t hamper his progress or get him killed before it was completed. However, it didn’t take long before an intuitive spy realized that the agent he was now in lockstep with was just as leery of the new alliance for the very same reasons.