The thing you hope will never happen to you might just happen to someone else instead, who has been spending their life dreading the thing that will happen to you. —Lemony Snicket
Ex-agents never get any rest, I swear. I mean, what part of “inactive” and “off-duty” and “I want a new life” doesn’t the agency understand? I should have known, based on my knowledge of the government’s military tendencies. Should have known that they wouldn’t let their top undercover agent leave so easily.
It started out a typical Saturday afternoon. Talia, Elise, and I were all watching some episodes of The Office while munching on some pink frosted cupcakes that I had just baked with my friend, Sierra Summer.
Then the phone rang.
“Is this line secure?” came a raspy voice.
“Well,” I replied, “It’s a cell phone, so really anyone can tap in.”
“Oh.” Pause. “I have some urgent news to share with you anyway.”
“Who is this?” I asked. Like I didn’t already know. I mean, it wasn’t exactly going to be CNN with an instant news flash just for me, was it?
“This is Supervisor Rodrina. I hate to bother you, but I thought you would want to know.” I went upstairs so that Elise, who wasn’t aware of my and Talia’s ex-agent status, wouldn’t overhear.
“Know what?” I whispered.
“That P.T. Moser has disappeared.”
“Finally perfected that David Blaine, move, huh?” P.T. Moser had an interest in magic tricks and the paranormal.
“Jolie, this is no time to joke! He disappeared two days ago and no one has seen or heard from him since.”
“Was he on assignment?”
“No. He didn’t have anything scheduled. Just vanished.”
I admit, I was a bit concerned. P.T. Moser had worked closely with Director Keller, so I definitely considered him an ally. But really, what did Supervisor Rodrina want me to do? I said as much.
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“We have suspicions that he may have been kidnapped.”
“And no ransom note? Well, if they don’t want him for money, then that means…” I thought.
“Exactly. They’re not planning on letting him go.”
“Who’s ‘they’ anyway?”
“We don’t know.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do?”
“We have a team put together for you. We have a guess as to where he may be.”
“I’m retired. Why do I have to do it?”
“Jolie. We think P.T Moser is being held in a compound disguised as an old folks’ home. The one right behind your house.”
“Oh shit.” I rarely cuss, but found need for it in this situation. I thought back to all those times I had chatted with residents of the home on their back patio. Never had a clue. “So who’s on my team?”
“Well, you would obviously want Talia to go with you.”
“Noted.”
“And we have two fresh recruits who are familiar with the situation. Jodi Barnesenoble and Michelle Harmond. I believe you know them.”
“They joined the agency?”
“You know how we like RAs.”
“Noted.”
“You’ll have a dead-drop at the library. Tomorrow, look inside the book P.T Barnum, King of the Circus, call number 921.14 for instructions.” Then the line cut out.
The next day I went to the library and found my instructions. My team was supposed to pose as college students coming in to play Bunco with the residents of the old folks’ home. Then I would sneak off to look for P.T. Moser. Hide under the food cart and all that. Since I was already at the library, I decided to pick up a book I thought was on hold for me. I went up to the librarian, whereupon she asked me “Name?”
“Jolie.”
“Like Angelina Jolie?”
“Yes, but I don’t collect babies.”
“Last name?”
“Rossen.” Normally they just scan your card.
She found my book, Hello, Cupcake! by Alan Richardson.
When the next afternoon rolled around, we were ready to play some good old fashioned Bunco with the residents. We signed in under aliases, mine being Cora Pieche. We rolled dice for a while, and then I excused myself to “use the restroom” while the rest of my team continued the distraction. According to the data that we had collected, my best bet of finding P.T. Moser was the east wing on the second floor. It had some suspicious activity going on in it. Really, though, P.T. Moser could be anywhere. We didn’t know he was in the compound. He could be skiing in the Alps for all we knew.
I proceeded down the east wing and chose a door to pick into. I was almost in when out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of white, a glimpse of brunette, and then felt a heavy thud on my head. I collapsed in a heap on the ground, but quickly pulled myself together. Turning around, I looked up and saw the nurse who had assaulted me. I did a backflip to give me some space, then ran at her with all my might, hoping for a better tackle than when I played football in 10th grade PE. When I made contact, I resulted to 8th grade girl tactics and pulled at her hair. It came off. It was a wig. I looked at the face again, realizing I recognized it. “Samantha Yeslan?!”
“Jolie?”
“What are you doing here? I thought you moved to Iowa
“That was just my cover. I’ve actually never been to Iowa
“For the agency?”
“No.”
Oh shit, I thought. Because if she’s not working for the agency, then she must be working for the other side.
“Don’t worry, Jolie. I’m part of a black ops division. I work for people higher up than Director Keller. They don’t know I’m here, but I’m gathering information for them.”
“What info have you gathered?”
“Well, for one, I know why you’re here. And I know where P.T. Moser is. And I have learned why the deceased enemy Agent Henkle wanted to get her hands on The Capsule so badly.”
“Sounds like you’ve been productive. But first things first. Where’s P.T Moser?”
“He’s eating bon-bons in suite 234E
“Bon-bons?”
“Yes,” Sam replied. “Jolie, you should know, this compound isn’t to jail people in. It’s to keep them safe. Like I said, it’s all black-ops, top secret, uber classified. This compound is owned by the same side as the agency. People higher up in the system. When we think the safety of one of our agents or directors is in danger, we pull them here to keep a close eye.”
“I don’t understand. What danger was P.T. Moser in?”
“Well, I guess you didn’t know this, but some of Agent Henkle’s old associates were in town last week, posing as a nerdy high school debate team.”
“That conference that the college was hosting?”
“The exact one. We were afraid the associates were in town for reasons other than to take the first place trophy. We had specific evidence that P.T. Moser has information valuable to them, and we wanted to keep him safe.”
“So is it all clear?”
“Yeah, but we’re going to keep him here for one or two extra days, just to be sure,” Sam explained.
“This operation that I got sent on was really a waste of time and money on the agency’s part. Why couldn’t you tell them you were pulling Moser?”
“This way, if Agent Henkle’s associates found out that P.T. Moser was missing, they might think that someone from an opposing organization—namely the Russian mob Krasnaya Bratva—nabbed him. This would create conflict between the criminal sides. They’d be fighting each other, searching for him.”
“When really he is safe here with us.Very clever,” I mused.
Sam Yeslan and I chatted a bit more, and then she let me see P.T. Moser, just to verify that he was okay. Sure enough, he was eating Bon-bons and lounging around in one of the suites, playing poker with some old folks. Relieved that he was okay, I contacted my team and packed up. Talia, Jodi, Michelle, and I were irritated that we spent time on this operation for nothing, but the good thing is that we still got to play Bunco.
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