Page 146 of Agency
“If I shoot you, you definitely will.” I swallowed hard. “I can see from the photos on your walls that you have a family. Children?”
He nodded.
“Grandchildren?”
Another nod.
“Have they been to see you?”
“Soon. Before the week is out. It is a time-consuming trek.”
“So, these are your choices, then,” Morgan began, his voice cold as any I’d ever heard. “Gag to death on your own pillowcase, be shot, or keep your mouth closed for the next few minutes and get to see your grand kids.”
Management didn’t look away from me. Didn’t even blink. “Very well. I will remain silent.”
“Good.” Looked to me, Morgan nodded. “Ready to start recording?”
I put the phone at the foot of the bed and leaned the top back against the rail, making sure the shot was angled properly before looking to Morgan. I gave a quick countdown on my fingers as I pressed record. When I hit zero, he began.
“I am here to identify one Lajos Backlund as a private contractor and for-hire espionage agent residing in Northwest Angle Township, Minnesota, United States of America. During the 1970s he served in the US Army Special Forces, then moved on to the CIA Special Actions Division for another decade, finally leaving for the private sector in the early 90s. I am here to give details of his operational history and record, as well as his current position running a private company specializing in high-level assassinations of both private and political individuals around the word on contract for the highest bidders.”
Morgan continued on, beginning to recount exactly what he’d promised. As he did, though, my com sounded.
“Bravo One, do you read me? This is Bravo Three. Let me know you’re there.”
My eyes flickered to Morgan, but he didn’t even miss a beat. He just kept going like Andrew hadn’t called. I stepped out of the room and went into the hallway.
“Here, Bravo Three. We’re upstairs in the cabin with Management, currently recording.”
“Bravo One, we’ve got a problem. That virus isn’t just deleting files. It’s copying them and sending them somewhere else.”
My back went ramrod straight. “Somewhere else?” I hissed.
“Bravo Three, this is Alpha,” Jericho said. “Did I just hear you right? If not, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“Exactly what I said,” Andrew replied. “Your aunt’s virus I uploaded isn’t just wiping the servers. It’s copying everything and sending it out.”
“Where?”
“I don’t fucking know, Bravo! Not even the IT girl monitoring the servers could tell. This is totally fucked.”
“Can you stop it?”
“How? Blow up the servers? All that data would still be left behind and maybe retrievable from the hard drives. It’s copying and sending, then wiping. Only way to make sure the virus does what it’s supposed to do is just let it run.”
“So, we’re fucked then?”
“We’re fucked.”
“And my aunt is the one who fucked us.”
Silence on the other end of the radio.
The fact no one made a joke spoke volumes.
The front door opened, and Andrew stepped into the entryway. He glanced around for a second before looking up to me at the top of the stairs. Silently, he signaled that he’d stay down there and keep watch.
“Fuck,” I said, making a face at how idiotic I’d been. I looked to the ceiling. I knew Management had tried to have me killed, but would even he have stooped to Aunt Val’s level? My eyes shifted to the walls, and the pictures hanging there. Even after all these years, Management still had a family. People he cared about. Had he been a kind, loving father? Or an absolute piece of manipulative shit? Considering people were coming here to see him before his death, I was going to go with the former.
