Special Agent Samuel Bond sat in a comfortable leather bound chair, the office he was in was spacious and well decorated. Pictures on the wall showed its occupier meeting various people of varying importance. Bond noted a particular photo showing him receiving an award from the first lady. Intermingled with the pictures were many framed newspaper cuttings, he could not read them from where he sat but thought they were probably of important successful cases he had been involved in.
The furniture within the office reflected the Assistant Directors importance, behind Bond was a large conference table with fifteen chairs dispersed around it. In the middle of the table sat a small grey pyramid that he knew to be a conference caller.
Before him was a large desk. The top had a leather inlay that covered most of the desk. A small glass plaque stated the occupier as Assistant Director Matthews. Who was the plaque aimed at? Was it there just in case you had not seen the plaque on the outer door on the way in to the office or just to remind you of whom you were speaking to.
He had been in the office for only ten minutes and already felt uneasy in this mans presence, Matthews was only acting Assistant Director while the previous occupier recovered in hospital. Nevertheless, already he had marked his intentions of staying put by putting his mark on the office. The photos and framed cuttings were all his and Bond was eager to see what Matthews found so interesting about the cases he had been involved in.
‘Remember Bond, we don’t want a repeat of the Leonard Peltier incident’, said Matthews. His expression was serious as he peered over his metal rimmed glasses at him sitting the other side of the desk. Bond started to flip through the handful of papers on the desk in front of him, he stopped at a page and quickly read an extract of text
1975, Two FBI agents are killed at the Pine Ridge (Heard Museum) Leonard Peltier, an AIM member is later convicted of the killings and sent to federal prison.
1975, Indian self-determination Act (Heard Museum). In response to the storm of Indian protests, "the Congress hereby recognises the obligation of the United States to respond to the strong expression of the Indian people for self determination by assuring maximum participation in the direction of educational as well as other federal services to Indian Communities so as to render such services more responsive to the needs and desires of those communities."
‘No sir, and the local sheriffs office?’ Bond said with a quizzical look. It was not unusual for Washington to assist local offices but this was a request from a local Sheriffs office.
‘You are there only to assist the locals at their request, it’s their case and only take over if there is unquestionable evidence that it is our jurisdiction’.
Bond pushed himself up from the chair and turned for the door.
‘Oh, and Bond make sure you don’t upset the locals this time, the bureau is concerned about tribal relations and the possibility of radical Native American activity in the area as well. Besides that I’m fed up with the complaints because of your lot, keep them in check.’ He said with grave undertones, Bond knew that would not be easy, some of the agents within the team, especially the younger ones did not see the benefits of friendly local assistance and felt that they only hampered the investigations.
Remorse swept over Bond, as this would be the first time in the field for a long time without Agent Vega. He was loyal and served to protect his team and duties. Their opposite approaches seemed to compliment their work. Although without him, the Assistant Director would not receive that many complaints, he now only had to keep Carter in check.
He continued to walk towards the door, he was not comfortable being there but due to unfortunate circumstances within his team, Bond had risen through the ranks to Team Leader rather quicker than he had anticipated. He felt he was not ready for the post but being the only senior left in the unit, was pushed into it while, he thought they were searching for a replacement.
Passing through the door to the outer office, a young woman sitting behind a smoked glass desk with a computer screen on it looked up as Bond closed the door to the Assistant Directors Office and passed quickly out to the corridor beyond.
Bond was young, young for a team leader anyway approaching his 29th birthday. He had joined the FBI six years ago after graduating from the Washington State University. The FBI had found him when he was just twenty-one, going to University had been his father’s idea to try to piece his life back together after the loss of his wife. At the very tender age of eighteen, Bond had married, he had known Kathy for only seven months but already by then, she was heavily pregnant. Two years later Kathy died, his daughter was missing. They gone to visit her parents in New Bournemouth but neither ever made it.
Although his father had disapproved of the circumstances he still stood by his only son and married Samuel and Kathy. His father had tried to console him only to see him sink deeper into darkness and prayed everyday for his pains to ease. Bond had always been technologically adept so his father signed him up for the course at the State University hopping that being with others of his own age may help to take away or ease the suffering.
It was not easy, Samuel had to get an evening job clearing tables in a diner to help make ends meet. Although he needed little sleep, his course work started to suffer. Leanne Brookes was a chance meeting in the diner, finishing the serving for a small group, two girls and two young men he accidentally put horseradish on one of the girl’s scampi. He had been so tired, with exams due that his body had started to complain bitterly about the sleep depravation.
It turned out to be Leanne’s and she was not a girl to sit there and say ‘Oh, don’t worry about it, it could happen to anyone’. She had taken a mouthful of scampi and you would have though a party of sailors had waltzed into the diner. The air was blue, the manager switched between looking flustered, outraged and embarrassed. Bond did not even hang around for the manager to dismiss him, he went out t the kitchen, grabbed his coat and left.
He had tried several different jobs, but his work still suffered. It was then that the worst happened, he failed his exams and he knew he was more than capable of passing but he was just to tired, there were not enough hours in the day.
When it had not improved, the principle summoned Sam to his office, already sitting there in the outer office was Brookes. She looked at him as if she knew him then looked away puzzled. While they sat their she kept looking, but you could see it on her face they she could not place him. ‘Horseradish’ had been the only word he spoke and saw the penny drop. Both were called in at the same time and it seemed that the principle thought highly of both students but was not impressed by their course work or exam results.
Brookes was on the same course as him, only a year further into it. She was wild but highly intelligent. It made her a perfect candidate to go places within the field of computing, puzzles and problems were there to be solved and her demeanour was chaotic.
Together they seemed unlikely but once they paired up their performance was tenfold. Chaos met Law. Even in their personal lives they relied heavily on one another but Leanne never saw it like that or would admit to it now. However, they were like long lost friends. Bond was the calming effect to her chaos and she was the light in his darkness.
Although Bond’s presence calmed the Brookes tornado he never quelled it for long and he found he could never say no to her for long as she was very persistent and always thought she was right. On the few occasions she was wrong there was no point in trying to correct her, as her desire to be right was so strong that she would not listen to reason. Bond had learned that early in their friendship and chose to be swept along with her, trying to minimise the impact Brookes had on the rest of the world.
Leanne had spotted the potential within Bond, he was keen, thorough and his approach always mirrored her own, except that his was thought out and hers was of the cuff. Therefore, she spoke with her mentor from the Bureau who promptly offered Bond a sponsorship with only one clause. He joined the FBI when he had graduated.
Bond sat at his desk looking through the glass walls of his office. The rest of the team was going about various tasks. The young Agent Carter sitting at his desk with a large pile of paper work, Agent Angel was in the lab with Agent McIntire, her shoulder length blonde hair held up with pencils. They seemed to be getting on very well, which was good for Angel as Merrick her previous lab partner was from the old school and their professional relationship was hot from the friction between them.
McIntire transferred here only last week. In fact, he had joined the unit when they had returned from New Orleans. It had been billed as a team building week organised by the resident psychiatrist Agent Knight, Who was looking around the office, properly eyeing which desk to have. The other Agents in the unit were not taking to well to him and the office was quieter in his presence.
Through the main door a smartly dressed young man walked in holding a cardboard box, which he deftly puts on the first desk he crosses. ‘Boss, you want yours in there?’ Holding a steaming, plastic cup of coffee and doughnut in the air.
‘Yeah please, Lee and when you give Mac his can you ask him to come in and see me, cheers.’
Lee was of Chinese origin, he passed several plastic cups all marked Bud’s Diner around the office and lastly picked up two cups and two doughnuts and went into the lab. Buds Diner was only across the road, it was a tradition within the unit’s short history that they got their coffee and snacks from across the road. Apart from the fact the coffee within the building tasted disgusting it gave them all a chance to get out of the office during the day.
‘Boss wants to see you Mac in his office.’ He said putting their coffee on the tabletop. It was unusual, as they were located in the J Edgar Hoover building to have their own lab. It was small but had everything that should be required for forensic analysis.
Mac grabbed his coffee but left his doughnut on the tabletop next to Angel’s and walked to the glass room at the end of the office. Although the door was open Mac knocked on the door out of courtesy, he was a veteran Agent but still knew the advantages of common courtesies.
Bond looked up from his computer screen. Mac was standing at the door, his wardrobe had still not caught up with him from New Orleans and his "Phoenix Coyotes" Tee Shirt was beginning to look worn. Was Mac trying to tell him he already knew of the next assignment as his tee shirt stated that fact clearly or was it just a coincidence? ‘Come in Mac, close the door and pull up a seat.’
Mac closed the door and looked around the small office. Sparsely furnished, with only two other chairs, a bookrack, and a tall plant standing on the floor in the corner and Bonds large desk, Mac planted himself in a chair next to the plant. It was almost standard issue and McIntire had seen many of these offices in his time, even briefly, he had occupied an office similar to this before his transferred here.
‘I thought we needed to have a chat before our next assignment as it would seem that you have been assigned here for the foreseeable future.’
Mac did not look surprised but disappointed. He had literally fallen in with this team by chance, responding to an Agent down call in New Orleans. From here, he had returned with the unit back to Washington.
‘According to your record, you have quite a service history, so why do you think you’re here?’
‘During my last assignment there were complications and therefore I must sweat it out in DC while I await the results of a review panel. That is all I am allowed to say. I’m afraid.’ He said almost scripted.
With that subject clearly finished Bond reached over to his out tray and pulled a couple of requisition slips from the top.
‘You’re requisitions for the lab are all ok and your other requests are ok for replacement equipment, but I have turned down your request for a separate office as we are trying to build a team environment here.’
‘That’s fine, it was only that I have a lot to catch up on, but it does not matter.’ Mac could not help but feel slightly peeved, this would just mean he would have to be discreet with his telephone conversations.
‘On the team front, does that mean that Knight will be joining us here as well.’ If he was going to have to endure being in this office then no one else was getting away with it.
‘That’s already been arranged, I suggest if you want the pick of the desks that are available you get out there and choose one.’ Mac took that as his cue to leave.
‘I see you and Angel seem to be getting on fine.’ Bond casually remarked as Mac was just getting up.
Unsure where this conversation was leading Mac kept his objectives purely professional. ‘Err, yes. She knows her job well and I think we will work well together in the lab.’
Bonds smile disappeared, ‘Her last partner in the lab was a sexist and they never got on well at all, in fact it ended with an official complaint against Agent Merrick.’
‘There won’t be any cause for complaint on that score, what happened to Merrick?’
Looking out to the main office and then back to Mac seated the other side of the desk. ‘Merrick is a federal fugitive, he’s wanted for questioning in connection with the deaths of Agents Segal and Vega after the incident at the hotel, nobody has seen him since.’
It was uncomfortable talking about Merrick, he was the lone survivor of three who had gone camping in Brazil. Vega had been shot and thrown from the hotel roof after trading places with Angel, Segal had been kidnapped, tortured and burnt alive, only to die later of his horrific burns in hospital.
‘Well I think that’s it for now, can you send in either Angel or Carter.’
Mac stood and walked out of the office, looking around he saw Carter at his desk, his in tray was empty but there were several piles of paper neatly stacked around his desk. The desk next to Carter was free, picking up his bag he placed it on the desk next to Carter. The wall behind him had small soggy paper lumps stuck to it. Turning to face Carter, he noticed that several files had the corners missing from them.
‘Francis, Sam would like to see you in his office now.’
Startled, Carter bolted upright, ‘Uh, oh sure.’ His hand slowly covered the wet piece of paper that he was about to flick. Since finishing his paperwork, Carter had started a self-portrait in paper maché on the wall opposite his desk.
Glancing once more at his masterpiece, smiling to himself Carter went into Sam’s office. Carter was bright and young, he was raised by Father Bernard and still lived in the same neighbourhood that he had grown up in. Abandoned as a baby he was bought up in an orphanage and been constantly bullied until he was big enough to look after himself.
‘Boss you wanted to see me?’ Carter said as he sat in the chair opposite Bond.
Not even looking up from his screen Bond handed Carter a piece of paper from on top of his in tray. Carter quickly scoured over the form and looked up disappointed at Bond. ‘Why?’
‘I’ve just received the reports back from our training week in New Orleans. You have been singled out on more than one occasion. Notably, and I quote "Carter failed to challenge a suspect during the paintball exercise before shooting an instructor squarely in the back." ’ Bond held up his hand and Carter’s protest stopped in his throat. ‘There’s more yet, "during the hostage situation Carter managed to lose three partners."’
‘But I knew he was one of the Armed Robbers, he had a gun.’
‘And was walking away from the area, you should have issued a challenge to give him the chance to surrender, rather than go home in body bag.’
Instantly Carter was defensive, his competitive nature had led him, but then it was not real. ‘It was only a game, no one really got hurt and it wasn’t my fault I lost three partners, if it was in the field then it would have been different.’
Bond had expected this, Carter’s competitive nature was his Achilles heel and if something had to be done then Carter would go all out to be first.
‘How do we know that, these training sessions are done so we can assess your ability and suitable to field work, if you treat it as a game then we will never know until we are in a real situation.’
Carter’s face said it all, he felt that he was being punished for being good at what he done, sure he shot him in the back, but then he was a bad guy. ‘Have you had any problems with me in the field.’
‘No, but that’s still no excuse, you are still not getting a bigger gun until you can prove to me that you can safely manage the gun you have.’
‘But the P226 is ineffective. That guy who had hold of Angel, I shot him at point blank range in the face and he just laughed, and what about the guy in the mall the bullets just bounced off him.’
‘Perhaps you should spend more time in the firing range and learn how to use the weapon more effectively.’ Bond said shaking his head slowly. He knew that no matter what he said Carter would still walk away from this office feeling that he was victimised, when the only person victimising him was himself.
‘I only want a P220, it’s not that much bigger, besides it was me who shot that last perp in the hand to disarm him, my gun skills don’t need any more honing I just need a bigger gun.’
‘Look, I know that and you know that. That shot was an amazing shot that got the instructor but you should have issued a challenge.’
His firearms skills were good, in fact he was top of his class in Quantaco, but Bond could not trust him wholly. Carter was to keen to down perp’s without thinking about what he was doing. One day that target is going to be wrong and hopefully Carter will still have a P226, at least they will have some chance.
Their eyes met. ‘That’s the final word on it for now. I’m denying your request for a P220 until you can prove you can follow FBI procedures to my satisfaction.’
His shoulders tense, Carter made straight for the door to the outer office and instantly made his way to the corridor. Most times, it was just a hard job, but at times like these, the job was not worth it. Carter would never see what was being said, all his training at Quantaco should have moulded him to think, think and think, but Carter would always be go, go, go, go, go. Eventually their will be an oops on the end unless he could be tempered or at least guided before that happens.
Stretching his arms, Bond moved into the main office, his cup was empty and he needed some caffeine. Bond refilled his plastic cup from brew in the office. For now it took away the craving, he felt for an old enemy.
The office was unusually very quiet, and then Bond saw the reason in the corner of the office, agent Knight was emptying a box of personal items onto his new desk. Storing some in the draws, arranging files into neat piles and standing pens and pencils in alphabetical colour order within their little pot. This was properly going to be one of Sam’s least inspired decisions, since the shrink had joined the unit the others had felt animosity towards him. When he was around, the office became quiet you could hear Knight making mental notes on every thing you said or each action being analysed.
Bringing him into the main office instead of him being in his own might make him to appear normal, another agent doing the job. Either that or the outer office is going to be lot quieter.
Sipping from his cup Bond saw whom he sought. Holly Angel, the units forensic officer, She was in the lab tidying out the evidence freezer. As normal for Holly she had pencils pushed into her hair where it was held with a white scrunchy, she was always busy and always seemed to be rushing from one place to the next. On more than one occasion she had left here with pencils still in her hair and protective slips still covering her shoes.
Poking his head around the door, Holly looked up from her crouched position in front of the freezer, resting across her lap was a tray with an oddment of body parts on it. Bond could only recognise a tongue and maybe a liver.
‘Hi.’ Holly said in a jovial voice that was unnerving for someone with an assortment of innards resting on their lap.
‘Got five minutes for a quick word.’ Bond was trying to seem casual but the tray of body parts unnerved him.
‘Ok, I’ll just bag these up and send them off to stores and then I’ll be in.’
Back in the main office, it seemed that Mac had chosen his desk, ironically it was bonds old desk. From one of the drawers Mac pulled out an ear piece attached by a wire to a portable listening device and looked over to Lee, who just looked at Bonds office and then to Bond. Lee, farmed here to replace Segal, was a nice guy if a little quiet; he had just passed out of Quantaco and now needed the leadership of a senior agent. It would happen as soon as Bond could identify an agent he could respect and look up to. He knew it would have to be soon or Lee would be swept along in Carter’s wake of enthusiasm.
Knight had finished arranging his pencils and Dex was still on the telephone. Dex was one of the replacements shipped in quickly to replace the fallen agents, according to his files he had been a beat cop for 10 years in Washington. He gave the impression of being sociable always wanting to be out during the evening while we were in New Orleans but beyond having a daughter I knew really little of him outside the Bureau.
‘Ok, listen up everyone I’ve received our next assignment already, briefing starts in an hour. Lee, do me a favour and see if you can locate Carter.’ Lee was like a breath of fresh air compared with some of the agents Bond had had to deal with. He was straight from the academy, was eager to be involved, and wanted to make the right impression with the right people.
No sooner had the words finished coming from Bond than Lee was on the case. Picking up the nearest telephone and punching at the numbers. ‘I’ll phone around and see if anybody has seen him.’
Bond walked back to his office via the coffee machine again and topped up his cup. Sitting back in his chair he pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket, a number was scribbled on it under the name Leanne. Looking from the telephone to the paper Bond knew he should call her, but it was a long time since they had spoken and even longer since they had spoken civilly. Leanne was there for him when life had been hard to cope with after Kathy had died. All through college, she had encouraged him to work harder and not to give in. They had spent long nights talking and finally she had managed to break the gloom surrounding him.
Leanne was a live life for now, she normally got want she wanted and was unbearable to be around when things did not happen they she wanted them to. She had introduced Bond to the FBI and since joining herself had done very well.
She now headed a unit dealing with Business Fraud and Terrorism. Only a few months back though Bond thought he would never see her again when they had heard the call for agents down. The unit responded quickly and was onsite first with the local PD.
Leanne Brooks had been on a stake out, which had gone horrendously wrong. Bonds unit had crept across the rooftops to try to break into the warehouse to where Leanne had been seen last.
It ended with a large explosion that threw the agents into the river. Brookes, the only survivor of her unit was in a bad way. However, her actions had averted a major catastrophe within the city and she billed a hailed a hero within the FBI.
She was on her way to hospital but it did not look very good. When Bond was well enough to visit her she had still not regained consciousness and the doctors said her chance of survival was very low.
She was like an empty shell, her life ebbing away. Only days earlier they had parted company on very bad terms, Bond had never seen her that angry before. Now she needed Sam and he could not let her down.
He needed to pull some strings and make sure she got the best treatment possible, so he called Dr. Leo his councillor. His old friend Steele had introduced him to Dr. Leo several months ago. After the trauma they had both suffered in Maine, Dr. Leo was good at his job, instantly Bond had felt warm, welcomed and very much at ease within his presence.
Although Bond felt more, comfortable about those events he continued to see Dr. Leo. From Dr. Leo’s appearance and the way he talked, he was very educated and wise beyond his years, though he appeared around mid thirties he valued the old morals something which Bond thought society had long forgotten. Dr. Leo would always lend an ear to a friend or associate in need of help so Bond had contacted him. Within hours Leanne was transferred to a private clinic and within two weeks was making a miraculous recovery.
Bond had been in constant touch with Leo on her progress, she was stable but still not out of the water. Worried about her condition Bond contacted Leo and arranged to visit Brookes. A private Lear Jet was laid on for Bond and Holly whom Bond had asked to come along for her medical abilities. The Jet flew them to a military base in Canada where they were greeted by Dr. Leo’s head of security. From here, they flew by helicopter to the private clinic.
Her condition had slightly improved but she was unconscious. The facility she was being treated in was luxurious and I was sure that once she had started the recovery she would enjoy her surroundings. At the time, Bond had not thought anything about it, but he had invited Holly there for the weekend and not told her where they were going. She had willing come with him. Had he been so blind as to miss that. They had stayed for the weekend and Holly had made the most of the facilities available there.
The calls to Leo continued and Bond learned that she had come out her comma and was going to make a full recovery. That had been over two months ago and Leanne had now returned to work but he had still not heard from her. He did miss her banter, the old times had been great even when they were both in the FBI and travelling around the country they had still met regularly and chatted often.
He picked up the telephone and started to dial Brookes’ her number. ‘Shall I come back later if you’re busy?’ Holly Angel said from the doorway, her voice had the edge of mischief in it.
‘Err, No, come in, close the door.’ Bond looked out to the main office, Lee was still on the telephone and Dex was just leaving the office. Holly stepped in and closed the door behind her, she sat in the chair opposite Bond, her skirt rose slightly and she grabbed the hem and pulled it back down to just above her knees. Agent Angel had not been with the team very long but she had quickly established herself within the unit. She had initially come across as very distant to Bond almost elusive, but that had all changed as the two had found themselves pushed together.
Handing Holly a report, ‘You got a glowing report back from the training centre, especially on the assault course. It would appear you were singled out for a test and you passed with flying colours.’
Scanning the report, her brow furrowed slightly and then she looked directly at Bond. The scepticism had gone and her blue eyes seemed to glint. ‘They didn’t have a lot choice really did they, I was singled out because I’m a woman and they weren’t getting away with that.’
It had been amusing to watch. Holly looks every bit a woman, one of the instructors had singled her out on the assault course. He insinuated that she would need assistance from the male agents in her team to get round the course.
Everything that had been feminine about Holly had disappeared in seconds as she had squared up to the instructor and demanded an apology for his sexist remarks. It had ended with the unit risking automatic failure as the unit had united behind Holly and would not budge until he had apologised to her.
Carter had been the only exception, he thought the whole incident over rated. So what if she needed assistance getting round, as long as he finished first and the unit completed the course in the best time possible, what was the problem. He even prepared to help Holly if he thought she needed it.
The course was completed as a team. As it had happened it was Hammond and myself who had needed aid in getting round.
‘Well that’s business out the way, how do fancy going away for the weekend again?’
Holly grinned, ‘Why wait till the weekend what’s wrong with tonight?’
Bond groaned inwardly and tried not to look to disappointed. ‘Our next assignment just come in, we’re expected in Phoenix tonight.’
‘Like I said what’s wrong with tonight?’ Holly stood and walked towards the door, as she opened the door she looked back with such a cheeky smile that Bond could do nothing but look forward to tonight.
Angel and Bond had so far managed to keep their passionate liaisons secret, it could have disastrous consequences for his career options but what the hell, and life was not a rehearsal. So far they felt they had done a good job, evening managing to sneak into one another’s rooms whilst away training in New Orleans. Picking up his notes he followed her through to the main office, everyone was present except Carter. ‘Lee have you tracked down Carter yet?’
‘Yea, Boss I was just about to go down to the firing range to get him. Apparently, the marshals down said he was acting a little strange.’ Lee added a little puzzled.
Bond was worried, Cater had flown out of his office obviously annoyed by the refusal for his larger gun ‘What do you mean by strange?’
‘Apparently he has set the targets to move towards him and is shouting "Halt, FBI, freeze or I’ll shoot!" and then shooting the targets.’ Bond smiled inwardly at the mental picture that formed of the targets getting the brunt of Carter’s aggression.
‘Ok, the rest you get packed and ready, we’re of to Phoenix. The locals need our assistance with a homicide investigation.’ It was not what they wanted to here, Phoenix was a long haul and there were nearer field offices but for some reason, they were going.
‘Get your gear together, sort out any arrangements quickly. We leave for the airport in two hours. We will fly to Phoenix, where we will meet with agent Hobson and pick up further details.’
‘Lee, make sure Carter knows.’