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Major Beale would make her rounds, ensuring some face time with her crew. She knew it could be unnerving to her subordinates, but if they couldn’t take the pressure of tossing a salad or chomping on a sandwich with their boss hanging around, then they weren’t cut out for such sensitive work. Beale also made it a point to sit with Melanie. The young woman was smart, poised, and efficient. Having navigated her way through a primarily male-dominated organization, Polly Beale felt a kinship with the new hire. True, there were other women in the department and in the building, but most of them had achieved their goals, and Beale knew how difficult it was to be starting out.
* * *
Polly Beale had entered OSI through the Air Force. She had almost twenty years under her wings and was now a major in the cybersecurity division. Beale’s area of expertise was digital forensics: the fingerprints of technology. Polly was all about intrigue and finding the truth. She was married to a fellow officer, also a major. They were career military personnel. They had no children. It was a matter of circumstances. As they were coming up the ranks, they never spent enough time in one place to raise a child properly.
Polly was direct without being blunt. That was something she and Melanie had in common. Their mutual love of books was another, and Melanie was pleased she and her supervisor had something in common besides their determination to stop cybercrime.
After about four weeks on the job, some of her colleagues invited Melanie out for drinks. This was something new for her. She was sociable, but not necessarily a social person. Still, she was pleased to have the opportunity to mingle with seasoned agents. Pick their brains.
Cordial but guarded, Melanie Drake wanted to get to know people before they knew her. She had a knack for ferreting information without revealing too much of herself. But when someone was finally allowed into the land of MelDrake, there was one thing she made abundantly clear: Follow the rules, especially hers. Don’t lie. Don’t cheat. Don’t hurt other people or animals, or risk being banished from MelDrake. Off the Christmas card list. She acknowledged some rules made no sense but, for the most part, they were not unreasonable.
Melanie wasn’t the only one who wanted to get to know the people around her. They surely wanted to know more about this newbie who seemed to have caught the attention of their superior. Who was Melanie Drake? What was she up to? Was she a mole? Collectively they decided to furnish her with a few cocktails, hoping to get to the bottom of the Melanie Drake mystique.
* * *
When not in her work clothes, Melanie sported attire that was classic and worn well on her five-foot, seven-inch frame. Simple, but always with one accent piece such as a brooch, statement necklace, or the saddle shoes she wore with her double-breasted pantsuit. But unless she brought a change of clothes, she looked like everyone else. No one was allowed to bring anything that was not OSI-issued past the heavily locked and coded security door, which meant she would have to change in her car. Not happening.
The group was gathering in one of the local bars that was between Melanie’s apartment and work. She’d run home and change into something less official, while some of the others pulled sweaters over their regulation shirts in the parking lot. There was a locker room available, but it was a long walk from their security entrance, so most came to work in their required attire of black trousers, khaki shirt, and black boots.
* * *
With the exception of the line running from her eyebrow to her earlobe, Melanie had a pretty face and a lovely smile, enhanced by a wry sense of humor. When asked, she could converse on a variety of subjects, from the latest scientific news to Pantone’s “color of the year,” and debate who had the best Super Bowl halftime performance. Melanie could hold her own regardless of whose company she was in. Instead of giving her colleagues a better idea of who she was, she danced around their questions, her sophistication and knowledge making her even more of an enigma.
* * *
After the second month, her coworkers realized she wasn’t a mole. At least not for their superiors. If she had been, a few of them would have been dismissed by now for implying certain people were sleeping with people they weren’t supposed to be sleeping with.
She resisted making judgments, but she didn’t approve. Rules. One of the commanding officers was breaking at least two of them. She was married, and her playmate was her subordinate. Melanie couldn’t ignore the truth of the matter. Betrayal. It simply wasn’t right. Careers ruined. Families broken. And that’s why there are rules. She kept her conversations banal and never gossiped. Better to hear what was going on than become the subject of scandal.
By the third month, Melanie had no feedback as to what was next on her career path. She was hesitant to say too much regarding her goals, but she knew, at some point, she would ask Polly for career advice. She hoped the opportunity would present itself sooner rather than later. But in her position, you didn’t ask questions unless it was regarding the work you were doing at the moment. You spoke when you were spoken to.
Since the day she’d submitted her initial application, her experience with OSI had been confounding. She was anxious to know what opportunities lay ahead. It had taken her long enough to get to this point, wherever it was. Where was she going? She knew there was no turning back, but dang, she wished she had a clue.
* * *
By the fourth month, she could no longer stand the ambiguity and asked if she could have a private meeting with her boss. She felt as if she were groping in the dark. Or was that part of the program? An observation period, perhaps? Interesting. When she entered the major’s office, it appeared her boss knew what was on Melanie’s mind. She smiled and gestured to the chair across from her wooden desk. “I am sure you have been wondering when you would get your next assignment?”
Melanie didn’t want to appear too forward, as if she assumed she was in line for a promotion. “To be honest, yes. I had a lot of ideas before and during college.”
Major Beale relaxed into her chair. “Tell me.”
“After 9/11 I wanted to get involved. Help people to talk to each other instead of blowing each other up.”
Beale knew Melanie had been only seventeen when the attack happened. She was at an impressionable age. She was idealistic. Bright. But reality could be extremely ugly. Beale believed evil existed. Not in the Biblical sense of a demon with horns and a pitchfork. People were the demons. The question still remained, why?
Beale focused her attention on Melanie. “And you think by sitting down and having a conversation with someone, you can keep them from killing innocent people?” Beale leaned forward.
“It’s my hope.” Melanie smirked, realizing how fanciful and naïve she must sound. Academia could do that to the brightest person. “It would appear that getting people to sit down together is often the big issue.”
Beale tilted her head and snorted. “You got it. Unfortunately, those types of people do not want to sit down and have a cup of tea. They are hardwired to go in the direction of destruction. For now, we can only do our best to thwart their efforts. Should they succeed, it’s up to us to investigate and bring our enemies to justice. Avoiding disasters is key. Until bad people are willing to stop being bad, we have to remain vigilant.” She sat forward, realizing she was pontificating. “And that’s the way it is,” she concluded, quoting the most revered newscaster in the history of TV, Walter Cronkite. “Now that you know about the reality of the situation, what do you want to do about it?”
Melanie continued. “I wanted to work in international affairs and foreign relations. My brother recommended I start here.”
Major Beale sat back and smiled. “He should be proud. You’ve been doing great work. Among other things, you were able to identify unusually heightened activity coming from West Africa.”
Melanie smiled. “Trying to do the best job I can.”
“On another occasion, you identified an additional anomaly that turned out to be a scheme targeted at people with diabetes.”
