Chapter
12
YOUR HISTORY IS ONE OF the most unusual I’ve ever encountered.”
Reel sat across from another agency shrink, this one a woman in her fifties with dull brown hair with gray roots, spectacles on a chain, and a dour expression. Her name was Linda Spitzer. She wore a long skirt, a cotton vest over a white blouse, and boots. They were seated across from each other in the woman’s office, a coffee table between them.
“So do I get a prize?” said Reel.
Spitzer closed the folder she was holding. “Why do you think you’re here?”
“I don’t think, I know. I’m here to be punished.”
“For what?”
Reel closed her eyes and sighed. When she reopened them she said, “Do we really have to do this? I’m a little tired and I’m sure DD Marks has more fun planned for me today.”
Spitzer shrugged. “We have an hour. It’s up to you how we use it.”
“Why don’t you read a book, then? I can steal a catnap.”
“You know, I’m not sure I would have recommended you for field duty given your history.”
“Well, maybe I was unlucky I didn’t run into you way back when. I could have skipped this part of my life.”
Spitzer smiled benignly. “I know that you’re very smart and cunning and you can talk circles around pretty much anyone, including me. But that doesn’t get us far, does it?”
“It works for me, actually.”
“Agent Reel, I think we can be more productive than this.”
Reel sat forward. “Do you know why I’m here? I mean really why?”
“My job is not tied to that. My job is to evaluate you to determine if you are up to the task of field redeployment.”
“Well, they didn’t seem to have a problem with my field deployment on my last mission. They gave me a medal.”
“Nevertheless, those are my instructions,” countered Spitzer.
“And you always follow orders, I take it?” said Reel contemptuously.
“Do you?”
“Okay, so here we go.” She sat back. “I pretty much always follow orders.”
Spitzer said, “Does that mean nine times out of ten? And under what circumstances do you not follow orders?”
“Actually higher than nine times out of ten. And I don’t follow orders when my gut tells me not to.”
“Your gut? Can you elaborate?”
“Sure. My gut.” She pointed to her belly. “That thing right here. It gives me tingly feelings when something is off. It’s also useful in holding and then digesting food.”
“And you listen to this instinct always?” asked Spitzer.
“Yes.”
“What is it telling you now?”
This query seemed to catch Reel off guard. She quickly regrouped. “That both of us are wasting our time.”
“Why?” Spitzer wanted to know.
“Because my being here is bullshit. I’m not being evaluated for redeployment. I’m damaged goods. I was sent here for another reason.”
“To be punished, like you said.”
“Or killed. Might be the same thing to some.”
Spitzer looked at her skeptically. “You actually think the agency wants to kill you? Aren’t you being a bit paranoid?”
“I’m not a bit paranoid. I’m a lot paranoid. I have been most of my life. The mind-set serves me well.”
Spitzer looked down at the file she held. “I guess I can understand that given your background.”
“I’m sick of people defining me by where I came from,” snapped Reel. She rose and paced the small room while the other woman watched her closely. “Lots of people have shitty backgrounds and grow up normal and accomplish a great deal. Lots of people born with silver spoons turn out to be worthless, bad people.”
“Yes, they do,” said Spitzer. “We’re all individuals. There are no hard-and-fast rules. You have accomplished much, Agent Reel. I think you would have done so whether you were born with a silver spoon or not. I believe it’s just how you’re wired.”
Reel sat down and studied her. “Right,” she scoffed. “You really think that?”
“You yourself just said that you were sick of people defining you by your upbringing. Or lack of one.” She stared at Reel expectantly.
“If you’re waiting for me to spill my guts, Doc, you’re going to be disappointed.”
“I wouldn’t expect a field agent with your level of experience to be loose of lip.”
“So what I am doing here?”
Spitzer said, “I’ve been instructed to perform a psych eval on you. I know you’ve had them done before. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Reel sat back. “Okay.”
“Do you agree that following orders is important if the agency is to be functional?”
“I do.”
“And yet you chose not to follow orders.”