Emptiness had taken its toll since the last mission. Because of that, Ninon went out for the day, trying to collect her thoughts. She went to a fairly isolated spot a few hours away to mull over things. While walking along the scenic riverfront, her mind stayed weighed down with so many thoughts such as:
I stared over the bridge railing. The river was a long way down. White water rushed over the large chunks of river rocks and then swirled around a sharp bend before continuing on around the center of town. I loved the sound of whooshing and appreciated the power of its force. But then a sense of vertigo hit me. So many ways to fall apart, and I did think about falling. Then nothing can hurt me anymore, I told myself. Maybe I want to make peace with everything; even after what others did to me. If I had the guts, I’d just let go and forget the world. But I didn’t want it to forget me. Is that crazy?
Tell me the truth, anyone. Did I ever cross his mind? A tear breaks free and falls into the water. I already know the answer. It's like he left me to face this all alone.
I started to sing a Korn song to myself, “Feeling like a freak on a leash.” Music helped me deal with the hurt. I tried to keep the anger in check before I lashed out or did something else stupid. The higher powers didn’t like my attitude.
As if paying me attention, a dark car parked nearby, possibly to watch in case I jumped. Maybe I should. But why give anyone the satisfaction? I kind of didn’t want to do that. My brows narrowed. I never made things easy for anyone. Why start now?
Since Scott Page disappeared from my life, I changed my focus. I wanted a new life, away from it all. But Ryder won’t let me go. He claims that he needs me. And I do need the money, I finally admitted to myself. I guess I needed a little more time to get this sorted out.
Deep inside, I reached out to the darkness, to the unknown. It brings possibility, yet also threatens to keep me trapped in despair. With that thought, I put my hoodie over my head and walked away, though the car remained with someone inside, as if watching me. It was too far away to know for sure, so I shrugged it off, though maybe I shouldn’t have.
You probably need some background information, so let’s get started. These are the facts: I’m a barista with a second secret job that could cost me my life one day, but could also help tip the scales for secretive operations in the murky world of espionage. Is it worth it? Maybe for them. As for me, it has cost me any access to truth or the ability to act for myself. I’m not sure that I have a choice in the matter. Whether fate or predetermined, I fell into the clutches of a man named Ryder Wetklow. It all started long ago when I was a child in a Finders’ commune. No one cared what happened to me back then, so he gave me a way to use my potential. At least, that is what he told me. And I believed him.
As for The Finders, I don’t know much about them. My mother was a drug addict and my uncle sold me into a government program that doesn’t officially exist. Being so young, I don’t remember much. In fact, not remembering is what keeps me alive. Plus, I’m also useful. Sometimes, I rent out my mind in a hypnotic courier program. What it contains, I’ll never have access to. But what little that I remember in my personal life is what keeps me going. I have hopes and dreams of my own. Unfortunately, the FBI keeps getting involved. They want information on things I don’t care to know about. That was how I met Supervisory Special Agent Scott Page. He tried to help me in his own way, but I needed more than he was willing to give and that includes his own secrets. So where do I go from here?
As for today, I’m just a barista. When I got home, I went to work like any other blue collar worker. I can pretend that I fit in somehow. With a resigned sigh, I put on my brown apron along with a fake smile. Then I took my place behind the marble counter to continue this facade. No one noticed me. At least, they aren’t supposed to. I don’t talk much nor do I encourage customers to talk to me.
Like any other day, I started to make coffee. The smell delighted me and I kept busy. I like a sense of routine and it was almost like any ordinary day. But just then, a stranger’s attention made me glance up from completing an order. I paused at adding the flavoring to the cup because this man in his late forties zeroed in on me. Not blinking and focused like a fierce predator on its prey, the man in the tailored black suit seemed to want me to know that he was paying me close attention. Somehow I couldn’t look away. A strange magnetism bound us. Though he probably intended to be intimidating, he had a depth about him that intrigued me. Another G-Man? At that thought, a fiery sensation ran up through my core. After the dead space left behind by my past crush, I felt suddenly alive. I realized how desperately lonely I had been and how much I needed another human being in my life. That made me vulnerable and a little scared. But I could pretend that I was in control despite these disconcerting vibrations.
I smiled to myself, while thinking to myself “Come on. I want the game. Let’s start one.”
I don’t think he felt the same. He stood as if his presence inserted his Will into the room. Wanting to challenge him, I longed to grab hold of his dark tie and pull him towards me. But what if that meant drawing trouble to me like a scorpion with a deadly sting? Well, it isn’t as if I wasn’t used to pain. My body has known plenty. But what about the danger of death? Just a way out with some much needed rest? Don’t be so morbid, Ninon, I chastised myself.
Back to this man…he made me want to feel warmth again. Desire coursed through my body. This was futile, I warned myself. But I couldn’t stop the fascination with him. Something about him was intriguing. My gaze stroked his broad shoulders and strong arms, probably quick to retrieve a gun. I silently scolded myself to stop these lusty thoughts, but he really unnerved me. My gut warned me about things that I didn’t want to heed.
At the same time, Milton looked at Ninon Gage, as if trying to figure her out. Every inch of her was cataloged in his mind, and to be honest, she wanted to belong there, immersed in his thoughts.
Touch me deeply. Find me in my depths and pull me out of my darkness. Even with that thought, she returned to her duties and put her wishes on a backburner. Such is life.
A little flustered, Ninon quickly finished the Americana order and set the tall coffee cup on the counter before starting another. She had to keep the line moving. Her uptight boss, a moody man with a sharp nose and a permanent frown, liked to belittle her and call her worthless if she didn’t get the customers in and out fast. Normally, she prided herself in being efficient, but this mysterious customer unglued her. Taking her eyes off him wasn’t easy, so she labored faster. His order was next. He ordered a black coffee. Who orders that?
Gathering her nerves, she made sure that she brought his cup to him personally. She peeked up at the taller man with precise moments and held out the hot coffee to him. It was as if she desired his approval, and maybe she did. But he probably had places to go and he’d leave her there. After all, her job was to make coffee. What more could he want? He had no use of her after that. Did he? No one had use for her once her job was done. Because of that, she felt a twinge of pain in her chest, anticipating another heartbreak.
His name was Milton. It suited him. A name for an intellectual. She liked knowing it. Surely, she’d see him again.
Feeling forlorn, her eyes followed the handsome man to the door and she soon felt so alone once again. The reality that no one loved her weighed on her, and she returned to her job with a sense of devastation. A few people noticed the damaged creature with the slumped shoulders and panicked eyes, but not enough to offer much more than a brief glance away from their phones and then returning to them. And then they quickly forget about her. They always did. But I’ll put my armor on and pretend that I don’t care.
Feeling a little mystified over their encounter, Milton took his coffee to his private car, a black sedan. For several minutes, he just sat there, absorbed in the details. She wasn’t what he had been expecting. Something about her seemed tragic. Because of that, he deeply sighed and peered in his rearview window. He had to contemplate how best to approach her next time. At the moment, he needed to get back to the Norfolk Division of the FBI. Others needed his expertise and it was what he had to offer, so why did she seem like a siren calling out to him? And why?
Like those he worked with, Milton enjoyed taking bad guys down. But she didn’t seem to fit that category that he was aware of. He couldn’t make much sense of The Finders or what was involved. They supposedly lived their lives as an unorthodox experiment. Their leader was the “Gamecaller.” Marion Pettie directed a group of professionals around the world, playing games supposedly to change their consciousness and to create new possibilities. Some say that he used his followers to spy on businesses. Was he just a cult leader, a CIA pawn, or a conman? The truth remained elusive, even to this day.
And what about the woman with the ponytail and the pink Converse? Was she some kind of asset or pawn in a dark game? Truth faded away a long time ago. If he didn’t get this sorted out, he’d probably not get the funding he needed to continue.
After busy morning meetings, the dark-eyed man in the ironed suit met with Jan. She arrived at his office wearing a Navy blue pantsuit and sporting a short bob haircut. She was down to earth and easy to get along with. Her no-nonsense vibe meshed with his.
Once they settled into the briefing about the latest updates, Milton informed her about his encounter at The Brew Box. Jan sat back in the black leather chair and listened intently. The lines on her forehead intensified as she reminisced about this woman who never cooperated with her in the past. It still kind of irked her.
“So what do you make of Ninon?” he inquired, a little dismayed. “I’m usually good at figuring people out.”
Jan let out a small chuckle and then grimaced.
She asked, “How much time do you have? I’ve hit a dead end when it comes to her. For sure, she is a ball of turmoil.”
“Yeah, I can feel that.”
Jan recognized that look on his pensive face and said “Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“Careful. Don’t let her ensnare you too.”
“Not a chance.”
Jan shook her head in disbelief, stating, “I’ve heard that before. I think we need a new strategy when it comes to her.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Introduce yourself to her. Let her know that we haven’t forgotten about her.”
Milton chuckled and said, “Do you think she cares?”
“No, but I don’t mind letting her know that we are still around. I think I might even enjoy that.”
“You don’t think we should stay in the shadows?”
“It won’t do you much good. Besides, Ninon likes playing games. Maybe you should start one.”
“I play Chess. I’m not sure I’d know the rules of her game.”
“Well, did she seem interested in you?”
“I had her attention.”
“Then keep it.”
Rubbing on the stubble on his chin, he contemplated those words and then replied, “You might have a point.”
Jan advised, “Be forceful. She won’t know how to react. Let her know that you are in charge.”
“Something tells me that she will fight me at every turn.”
“Then prove that you have the upper hand.”
With a slow nod, Milton made some notes and said “Okay. We’ll see how this plays out.”
Jan stood up and remarked, “I’m going to file my paperwork. Keep me in the loop.”
“Will do. Thanks for your help.”
Milton reviewed mountains of his own paperwork awaiting his keen insight. Tapping his pen, he pushed her file away from him in order to focus on more pressing matters. But he still had thoughts running in the back of his mind. Sure. He’d give her a game, if that is what she wanted. It couldn’t be rushed, though, which was a good thing, because his day was already full.