Wallace shook his head, his confusion evident. “I’m not following you, sir.”
“Without going into detail, you have jeopardized a joint CIA-NSA terrorist investigation and now you are being redirected to the field office in Omaha.”
Roger sat stunned. “Wait, what?” He found himself coming out of his chair and leaning over the desk of Chief Clark. “Come again with this?”
“Sit DOWN, Agent Wallace. I will not repeat myself. You have twenty-four hours to clear out your desk and report to the Omaha field office.” Chief Clark crossed his arms and gave him a stern stare. “Or would you rather end up in Des Moines?”
Wallace nearly staggered. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me, agent.” Clark’s eyes told him far more than his mouth ever could. Wallace found his head spinning at the covert threat and had to backtrack to try to figure out what was going on.
“Wait…okay, but why? What joint operation are you talking about? And why am I just now hearing about this?”
“As I stated, it was a joint CIA-NSA operation and you…just clear out your office and report to Omaha.” Chief Clark leaned forward and gave him a smile that didn’t reach his dead eyes. “Or do you wish to have your employment with the Bureau terminated?”
“What? Now you’re threatening to fire me because I’m asking you what in the hell happened?” Wallace stepped back and gave the man a questioning stare. “Do I need an employee rep in here with me now?”
“Would you like an employee rep in here with you now?”
“Don’t play games with me, Phil. Just clue me in to what this is all about, would ya?”
Chief Clark sat up and squared his shoulders. “You will address me as Section Chief Clark.” He straightened the lapel on his jacket even though they were already razor sharp. “You have been apprised of your actions and the consequences of said actions. You have been informed of your next duty station and the time you are required to report to said duty station.” He pulled a file from the corner of his desk and opened it, sliding it across his desk to the man and pointing to an area where Wallace’s name was typed and awaiting a signature.
“I need your signature here indicating that I have briefed you.”
Wallace shook his head. “No.”
“Then you do wish to terminate your employment with the Bureau.” Chief Clark reached across and closed the folder.
“No. I refuse to sign the document until you explain to me what the hell is going on here.” Roger crossed his arms and glared at the man.
Clark refused to budge. “You have been informed of all that you will be informed of. If you wish to remain an agent with the Bureau, you will sign this document and remove yourself from this office.”
Wallace continued to stare at the man and soon realized that there was a reason they promoted this steel-gazed automaton. Eventually, he leaned across the desk and snatched up the folder. He skimmed through the legalese of the document then slammed it back on Clark’s desk. “I’ll sign it.” He pulled a pen from Clark’s pen holder, signed at the line, then jammed the point of the pen through the document, the file folder and into the wood of the desk ending his signature. “Consider it under duress.”
“Duly noted.”
Roger turned to leave then paused. He slowly shut the door and turned back to his Section Chief. He closed the short distance and leaned across his desk. “Rest assured, I will get to the bottom of this. And when I do, if I find out that you’re railroading me or hiding pertinent information from me, I will find you.”
The man crossed his arms over his chest and gave Wallace a deadpan stare. Wallace smiled at him and lowered his voice.
“You do realize the difference between me and you, right? I was once a field agent and you’ve always been a paper pusher. I have no trouble pulling a trigger when it suits my purpose, and all this,” he gestured around the dim office, “won’t protect you.”
“Is that a threat, Agent Wallace?”
“No, Phil. That’s a promise.”
5
Dallas, TX
DERIC HELD THE front door open while Bobby pulled the Bronco into the hangar and shut the engine off. He double checked that the area was clear then pulled the large door shut and locked it from the inside.
Steve parked outside and stepped in through the double glass doors that lead into the foyer of their operation. He hung his jacket on the peg just inside the door and hopped the short counter. The group at BYI had been together since they had all quit the Agency together in the mid 90s. Bobby was the one who had brought them together and helped to forge their friendship into a multi-million dollar a year business providing private security, training, and intelligence gathering for those with connections and very deep pockets.
Bobby slammed the door of the Bronco and avoided their probing gazes as he entered the circle of workstations. “I really didn’t want to make that call.”
Jay crossed his arms and nodded. “I figured it had to be bad or you wouldn’t have.” He slid a dossier over to Bobby and waited for him to rifle through it.
“What’s this?” Bobby flipped through pages of his own history.
“It’s what we could dig up on you since you left.” Jay sat on the corner of a desk and gave him a wary eye. “You fell off the planet, brother.”
Bobby dropped the file and finally met his gaze. “That was intentional.”
“We sort of figured as much.” Gregg dropped into his chair and propped his feet up. “So what gives, man? We ain’t finding shit on you.”
Jay walked by and knocked Gregg’s feet from the desk as he reached for his coffee cup. “The best we could find was an inter-agency flag from the Feebs and it was revoked.”
“Revoked?” Bobby picked up the dossier
