Andrew Viola drove to a private airport to hop on agency wings on the way back to the Burner.
But he made one stop along the way. He had a phone call that he needed to make. And he didn’t trust his secure mobile phone to make it without someone listening in.
He stopped at a twenty-four-hour convenience store and stepped out of his car.
He didn’t go inside. He went to the single pay phone that was affixed to the exterior wall. He didn’t even know if it would work.
He dropped in his change and got a dial tone.
He punched in the number and the phone rang three times before it was answered.
Blue Man said, “Hello?”
Andrew Viola said in a low voice, “You need to hear something, but you didn’t hear it from me.”
“Is this about Robie and Reel?” asked Blue Man.
“Yes, it is,” replied Viola.
Viola said his piece and then took some questions from Blue Man, whose real name was Roger Walton. He was very high up at the agency, though not as high up as Amanda Marks and Evan Tucker.
He was also a friend and ally of Will Robie’s. And of Jessica Reel’s.
When Viola finished he hung up the pay phone and got back into his car.
Ironically, the old-fashioned pay phone might be the safest form of communication there was these days. NSA tended to focus more on mobile phone traffic and texts and emails. There were so few coin phones left that no one really bothered to monitor them anymore.
He started the engine and headed off. He would be back at the Burner in a few hours.
And maybe he had just realized that the world was not simply black and white, no matter how much he wanted it to be.
Chapter
19
SPITZER AND BITTERMAN WERE PLAYING tag team.
Seated across from them were Robie and Reel.
“Long time no see,” began Reel. “Lost the love?”
The two psychologists glanced at one another, looking a bit uneasy.
Spitzer said, “We don’t make our own appointments.”
Robie said, “I know, you follow orders like everybody else.”
“So why the double team today?” said Reel. She gave an anxious sideways glance at Robie. “I thought these sessions were supposed to be one-on-one.”
“They usually are,” replied Bitterman. “But not today. Does this make you uncomfortable?”
“No,” said Reel. “I love revealing my innermost thoughts on a public stage.”
Spitzer smiled. “It’s not the preferred way, Agent Reel, but it might actually be beneficial to you, and to Agent Robie.”
“I can’t possibly see how, but I’m not a shrink.” Reel sat back against the chair, her eyes half closed. “And at least while we’re in here no one is trying to kill us.”
Bitterman said, “You mean kill you when you’re in the field?”
Robie said, “No, she meant kill us as in while we’re here at the Burner.”
“It’s definitely not a walk in the park here,” noted Spitzer, as she doodled with her pen on the pad she held.
Reel said, “Oh, the training part we can handle. It’s the waterboarding in the middle of the night that gets me a little uptight. I like a full six hours of sleep uninterrupted by torture just like the next person.”
Spitzer and Bitterman both gazed at her openmouthed.
Bitterman said, “Are you saying that you were tortured? Here?”
“Don’t get your boxers in a wad, Doc,” said Reel. “It wasn’t the first time and I doubt it will be the last. It’s just usually not our own people that do it to us.”
Spitzer said, “But that’s illegal.”
“Yes, it is,” replied Robie. “But please don’t think of filing any paperwork on it.”
“Why?” asked Bitterman.
Robie stared at him. “You’re a bright guy. I think you can see the endgame on that one.”
Bitterman paled and glanced nervously at Spitzer, who kept her gaze squarely on Reel. Bitterman said, “Well, perhaps we should go ahead with our session.”
“Perhaps we should,” said Reel. “So fire away.”
The two psychologists readied their notes and Spitzer spoke first.
“The last time we talked, we were discussing roles.”
“Judge, jury, executioner,” said Reel promptly while Robie looked on curiously.
“Yes. What role do you feel you’re playing right now?”
“Victim.”
“And how does that make you feel?” asked Bitterman.
“Shitty.”
He next looked at Robie. “And you?”
“Not a victim. A scapegoat. And pissed, in case you were going to ask how I felt about it.”
“So you consider all of this unfair?” asked Bitterman.
“I’ve served my country, risked my life for many years. I’ve certainly earned more respect than I’m getting now. So has Reel.”
“But you understand why the circumstances have changed?” asked Spitzer.
“Because two traitors are dead?” said Robie. “No, I really don’t.”
“She wasn’t ordered to kill them,” pointed out Bitterman.
“So she took a shortcut. The orders would have been coming. Believe me.”
“No, they would have been tried and perhaps convicted,” said Bitterman. “Just as spies and traitors have been before.”
Robie shook his head. “Do you know what those two were involved in? What they were planning?”
“It wasn’t selling secrets,” Reel added as the two psychologists shook their heads.
“It was something that the world could never know about,” said Robie. “There would never have been a trial. Never. And they would never have gone to prison.”
“They would have been executed and gone into a grave,” said Reel. “And that’s where I sent them.”
“Be that as it may,” said Bitterman. “There is the issue of following orders and not acting unilaterally.”
“Otherwise, there is chaos,” added Spitzer.
“The slippery slope,” said Bitterman. “I know you can see the implications.”
“This was a special case,” retorted Reel.
“Exceptions not only disprove the rule, they destroy it,” replied Spitzer. “Our job is to psychologically vet both of you. While I know that you have been physically challenged while here and will continue to be, we are focused not on your bodies but on your minds. Do you still have the mental discipline and brain wiring to do your job in the field?”
“Or will you create a new mission on your own instead of following orders?” added Bitterman.
“We improvise all the time in the field,” protested Robie.
“I’m not talking about improvisation,” said Bitterman. “All good field agents do that. I’m talking about going off grid, going rogue and creating entirely new missions to counter perceived wrongs. Do you still have the wherewithal to follow only the orders given to you?”
Reel was about to say something and then stopped. Robie, for the first time, looked unsure.
Neither of the psychologists said anything. They just stared at the other two, awaiting an answer from one of them.
“I don’t know,” said Reel at last.
Robie said nothing.
Both Bitterman and Spitzer wrote down some notes.
Robie said, “So if we can’t say that unequivocally, then what? Unfit for deployment?”
Spitzer looked up. “That’s not for us to decide. We simply make recommendations.”
“And what would your recommendation be right now?” asked Reel.
Spitzer glanced at Bitterman, who said, “An answer now would be meaningless.”
“Why?” said Reel. “We’ve been here awhile. It’s not like they’re going to give us a year to figure this out, not if we’re being vetted for a mission.”
“My answer is still the same,” replied Bitterman, and Spitzer nodded.
Spitzer said, “Do you even want to be redeployed?” She looked from Reel to Robie for an answer.
Reel said, “This job has been my whole life.”
“That’s not an answer,” pointed out Bitterman.
“It’s the only one I’ve got right now,” replied Reel firmly.
Robie said, “How long do we have?”
Spitzer said, “We’re not the ones to take that up with. Try DD Marks.”
“Do you report to her or Evan Tucker?” asked Reel.
“The chain of command is clearly defined,” said Spitzer. “But eventually all things make their way to the DCI. Particularly something like this.”
Robie nodded. “Are we done here?”
“Do you want to be done?” asked Spitzer with a knowing look. She was clearly not simply referring to this meeting.
Neither Robie nor Reel answered.