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I guess desperate times called for desperate measures.
It would never hold up in an accident. I watched her hastily get into her car as it bounced on its chassis, rocking with every movement like the unstable piece of shit it was.
I slipped into my truck and closed my eyes. Daniel flew into town, wanting to meet with me, probably to talk my ear off about blending in and shit. My mind flew back to that night I’d lost everything. I could hear the droning of the monitors in the ICU as a shiver ricocheted down my spine.
I gripped the steering wheel and clenched my teeth. It was taking me longer and longer to pull myself from those visions. I cranked up my truck and lurched forward, making my w
ay to a diner on the other side of town. Bend, Oregon, looked like a nice enough place to settle down in after the few catastrophes I’d gotten into over the past year and a half. I’d settle in places and people would get curious, ask too many questions and try to talk me in circles. People from small towns could do their research like the best of them, which was why I figured Bend would be the perfect way to go.
Small enough to be unnoticeable but large enough to hide in.
“Hey there, Graham.”
I embraced Daniel and patted his back before we sat down in a booth.
“Figured for a while there you weren’t coming,” Daniel said.
“When the hell have I ever not met with you?” I asked.
“You ditched me once in Kettle. Once in Fredericksburg. Another time in—”
“I get your point. Sorry. I’ll try not to fuck up Bend this time.”
“You gotta settle somewhere, Graham. Every time you kick up a storm and move, it leaves a bigger paper trail,” he said.
“I’m working on it.”
“You’re not keeping a very low profile.”
“I’m keeping an incredibly low one. Keeping myself afloat on bullshit jobs that don’t require official paperwork, not getting involved in business that isn’t mine. Not my fault people are curious about some asshole walking around town.”
“Have you tried not being an asshole?” he asked with a grin.
I looked at him, straight-faced for a moment.
“Graham, come on. Loosen up a bit. Bend might be the place you’re looking for,” he said.
“No place is the place I’m looking for anymore,” I said.
“Have you been back?”
“No,” I said. “I have a job to finish.”
“You have a life to assimilate. But that doesn’t mean you can’t go visit their graves.”
“They’re buried in DC, Turner. The fuck do you expect me to do?”
“What you always did with the CIA. Go in undercover and give yourself some closure.”
“You don’t think that’s what I’m doing? Getting closure?” I asked.
“Not the way you should,” he said.
“Sorry you don’t like my plans.”
“If you’re serious about Bend, you need to remember your CIA training. It’s imperative that you blend in. And right now, you’re doing a shit job of it. People are already staring at us.”
“Because I’m new.”
