Dirty Little Secrets

The next morning, I got the call I was expecting on my cellphone. CNN had aired the interview, and my employers were giving me the axe. “Wes, you did great work for us for the past three years,” my older handler, a guy that I called Oscar, said. “That last job, in Russia? You did us a big favor. But we can’t have you on television, Wes. You realize that, right?”


“I know,” I said, sitting in my room. Robin had left when I told her who it was, and the quiet space felt heavy to me. It was weird. I mean, I’d left jobs before. I left the military of my own free will, and I knew what I was doing when I agreed to do the CNN interview. I was more or less giving a very public resignation. Still, I’d never been fired from a job before. It felt strange, even more so since this wasn’t just any job. It had been my life, but it was time for a new chapter in my life. “I guess I was still a bit rattled from the whole thing in the mountains.”

“Wes, you had a very different contract than a lot of our operatives, so there won’t be any major consequences,” Oscar replied, “but the fact is, you cut your own throat as an operative for us. I’ll talk to my bosses, but the most we might be able to get for you is as a normal hacker, behind a normal computer, playing Starcraft when you’re not on duty if you want to stay with us.”

“No, you know that’s not my style,” I told Oscar, “but thanks. You guys don’t mind if I list the public front for my resume, do you?”

“Not at all,” Oscar said, a chuckle in his voice. “In fact, if you apply to certain government agencies, we might just give a bit more than the standard recommendation. But if you’re looking for a job at Microsoft, you’re just going to get the standard corporate letter, you know.”

“I know. Thanks, Oscar. It’s been good working with you.”

“You too, Wes. Take care of yourself.”

The line went dead, and I stared at my cellphone, knowing that even if I tried to redial the number, it wouldn’t connect to anything—just one of the ways that Oscar protected himself. It was funny: I worked with the man for years, even when I was still a college student, and I think I only met him once, at my initial recruitment. You just never knew with spooks.

Leaving my phone on my bed, I walked out into the back yard where Robin was sitting and looking over the grounds beyond the pool. It was far too cold to enjoy the water, but she still looked great in the cool light with her long, black hair pulled into a ponytail, a white, cable knit sweater, and jeans that hugged her hips and curves beautifully.

“So you’re out of a job?” Robin asked, handing me a glass of chocolate milk. It was a long standing tradition. Rebekah always gave us chocolate milks as a treat whenever we came home with disappointing news, and it had continued on. On the silly cheese scale it was pretty high, but at least it wasn’t Ovaltine. “Me too.”

“They fired you?” I asked, sitting down in the chair next to her. Dad and Rebekah were both at work that morning, and we had the run of the house to ourselves. “I would have thought they wouldn’t have taken the chance at the bad PR after the interview and everything.”

Before I could go into full rant mode, Robin shook her head. “They probably wouldn’t have in the end, but I called them while you were on the phone. I resigned. I didn’t want to deal with their corporate crap any longer.”

“Really? Well, not to echo Rebekah from last night, but what now?”

Robin flashed me that smile that I loved so much, the one that said she had a crazy, harebrained scheme that would be an adventure, and one that I would probably end up loving by the end. I remember Stephen King describing a character in one of his books with a similar smile, and he said it was a ‘fuck you if you don’t like it’ smile. Of course, since I love everything Robin does, how could I not help but get pulled along?

“How about we use some of those accounts you told me about, and go into business together? I’m going to need a good coder, and a test pilot.”

“Pilot for what?” I said, taking a deep drink of my chocolate milk. “Damn, you always do make it feel like I’m drinking liquid chocolate. Does Chef know how much cocoa powder you put in these things?”

“I’m sure he does,” Robin said dismissively before continuing. “As for a pilot, well, I’ve decided I’m not going to mess around any longer. I’m going to build that exoskeleton I’ve been talking about since forever, and I need your help to do it.”

I only needed a moment, enough time to finish my chocolate milk before I made my decision. “Sounds good. Let’s go back to your place and get the paperwork started for forming our new company. So, does that mean I have to call you ‘boss’ from now on?”

“What’s wrong with your place?” Robin asked, finishing her own milk and setting the glass down. “No offense, but I live in a one-bedroom hole in the wall. I didn’t even bring prior boyfriends over there, let alone the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”