around him. The extravagance and scale of the setup surprised him.
At that moment, he saw the front door of the office suite. Fitted above the doorframe, a modified shotgun was attached to the wall over the threshold—pointing downward. A rectangle of painted plasterboard concealed it from view underneath. If any intruding force managed to slip a fiber optic camera under the door, all they would see was ceiling. But from this angle, the full mechanism, trigger wire, and rigging, was clearly visible.
Shirin caught him staring at the booby-trap. "If anyone comes looking for us, that should slow them down."
To have such elaborate and deadly security measures, he had to think Shirin was either mixed up in something greater in scope than he could understand, or she was just plain paranoid to the point of crazy.
"What's all this about, Shirin? I don't understand…"
"You will. "She directed him to a large table littered with printouts and surveillance photographs.
12:02:16
"I think you should sit down."
Barratt looked over the table. He didn't sit. He found it impossible to stay still. The energy, the confusion, the turn of events started beating a drum in his head only action could cure. He wanted to shoot someone, hit someone. It was what he did, what he knew.
"Let's get to the point, Shirin. If Zelig, if the Director of Covert Operations is after you, and now after me, we don't have time to sit around here talking. I say we pick him up, strap him to a chair, find out what's going on, and then put a bullet in his head."
"Sorting this mess out with Zelig is important, Trent. Believe me, we'll be 'talking' with him soon. But this," she motioned to the table of documents, "this, is what it is all about! This is where it all started. This is what led me to Bill Civic, the reason you were hired to kill me. This is why we are here!" She slammed her fist on the table. She took a deep, calming breath and continued.
"Six years ago, I was recruited to work for a small team reporting directly to Zelig. He was a team leader then, a rising star, but still feeling his way around the Agency. The first mission I was tasked with was to retrieve data from a government official whom we suspected of selling federal Intel."
"Operation Kismet. I know the story."
"Yes. But what you probably didn't know was that none of it was real. At least, that's what I suspected. At the time, I didn't pay it much attention. I had a mission to complete, I completed it, and then moved on to the next one. "Shirin's' words became more tense as she spoke. "Two years later, Zelig had been promoted twice, and the government official was quietly retired."
"Anthony Williams…" Barratt nodded impatiently. "I was the agent who retired him."
"And I was given my first wet-work assignment," she said, ignoring Barratt's admission. She leaned in closer."Do you remember how we met?"
"You almost killed me."
Shirin nodded but said nothing, the implication clear.
"What? You're saying that Zelig sent you to kill me that day to cover up that I was ordered to kill Anthony Williams?" Barratt felt the pieces fit together as the words left his mouth.
"I don't think it was a coincidence that two days after you removed Williams, I was given the time and location of where you would be, and instructed to kill you."
Barratt rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, then his fingers kneaded away the beginnings of a headache.
"So what has all that got to do with what is happening now? With this?"He motioned to the paperwork in front of them.
Shirin fell back into her chair. She looked suddenly tired. "I'm not sure," she said. "But I do know it's all connected. I didn't start putting it all together until after Harry's funeral."
They both fell silent. Saying Harry's name, hearing his name, was still a fresh wound for both of them. Harry was the only man Shirin had loved, the only husband she would know; he was the foster brother Barratt had protected, had loved. His
At that moment, he saw the front door of the office suite. Fitted above the doorframe, a modified shotgun was attached to the wall over the threshold—pointing downward. A rectangle of painted plasterboard concealed it from view underneath. If any intruding force managed to slip a fiber optic camera under the door, all they would see was ceiling. But from this angle, the full mechanism, trigger wire, and rigging, was clearly visible.
Shirin caught him staring at the booby-trap. "If anyone comes looking for us, that should slow them down."
To have such elaborate and deadly security measures, he had to think Shirin was either mixed up in something greater in scope than he could understand, or she was just plain paranoid to the point of crazy.
"What's all this about, Shirin? I don't understand…"
"You will. "She directed him to a large table littered with printouts and surveillance photographs.
12:02:16
"I think you should sit down."
Barratt looked over the table. He didn't sit. He found it impossible to stay still. The energy, the confusion, the turn of events started beating a drum in his head only action could cure. He wanted to shoot someone, hit someone. It was what he did, what he knew.
"Let's get to the point, Shirin. If Zelig, if the Director of Covert Operations is after you, and now after me, we don't have time to sit around here talking. I say we pick him up, strap him to a chair, find out what's going on, and then put a bullet in his head."
"Sorting this mess out with Zelig is important, Trent. Believe me, we'll be 'talking' with him soon. But this," she motioned to the table of documents, "this, is what it is all about! This is where it all started. This is what led me to Bill Civic, the reason you were hired to kill me. This is why we are here!" She slammed her fist on the table. She took a deep, calming breath and continued.
"Six years ago, I was recruited to work for a small team reporting directly to Zelig. He was a team leader then, a rising star, but still feeling his way around the Agency. The first mission I was tasked with was to retrieve data from a government official whom we suspected of selling federal Intel."
"Operation Kismet. I know the story."
"Yes. But what you probably didn't know was that none of it was real. At least, that's what I suspected. At the time, I didn't pay it much attention. I had a mission to complete, I completed it, and then moved on to the next one. "Shirin's' words became more tense as she spoke. "Two years later, Zelig had been promoted twice, and the government official was quietly retired."
"Anthony Williams…" Barratt nodded impatiently. "I was the agent who retired him."
"And I was given my first wet-work assignment," she said, ignoring Barratt's admission. She leaned in closer."Do you remember how we met?"
"You almost killed me."
Shirin nodded but said nothing, the implication clear.
"What? You're saying that Zelig sent you to kill me that day to cover up that I was ordered to kill Anthony Williams?" Barratt felt the pieces fit together as the words left his mouth.
"I don't think it was a coincidence that two days after you removed Williams, I was given the time and location of where you would be, and instructed to kill you."
Barratt rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, then his fingers kneaded away the beginnings of a headache.
"So what has all that got to do with what is happening now? With this?"He motioned to the paperwork in front of them.
Shirin fell back into her chair. She looked suddenly tired. "I'm not sure," she said. "But I do know it's all connected. I didn't start putting it all together until after Harry's funeral."
They both fell silent. Saying Harry's name, hearing his name, was still a fresh wound for both of them. Harry was the only man Shirin had loved, the only husband she would know; he was the foster brother Barratt had protected, had loved. His
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