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What is it about those eyes that speaks to me on a level I have never felt before? This is not an appropriate way to act on a job. I try to convince myself that the only reason it happened is that I’m tired, coming off the back of the previous job. My instincts need sharpening, and I only have an hour and a half left to do that.
Instead of thinking about Cassandra, I turn my mind to thinking about what I need to find out about the senator, the more intel the better. That is a more productive use of my time and simpler to rationalize in my head. I want to know what he has done to this poor woman to make her take the drastic step of going to the FBI and going into hiding. Nobody gives up everything in their life unless they are petrified of the situation they have found themself in.
So, what has you running scared, Cassandra?
My phone ringing brings me out of my thoughts. Glancing at the screen, I can’t help but laugh.
“What the hell are you doing calling me? At least one of us should be on leave, lazing on the beach and eating some of your mom’s famous food you’re always craving. By the way, that is a hint to bring some home for me.”
“Well, hello to you too, grumpy. Thought I would just check in before I go totally offline for a few days. Think you can handle this job all by your lonesome or do you need big tough Bull to come and protect your ass?” Both of us chuckle at that comment.
“There is never any reason why you need to be anywhere near my ass. We might be close but not that close. I think I have my ass under control, thanks anyway.” Looking at my GPS screen, I calculate I still have about forty-five minutes until I reach the house, so I settle in for a chat to pass the time and keep me from overthinking things.
“I see you still have your sense of humor, so the job can’t be looking too bad. When do you start?” Bull knows he can’t ask me much more than that because he isn’t on the case.
“In forty minutes and counting. On route now. Let’s just say it might be an interesting one. I can’t get a feel on it yet, but once I meet the client maybe I might get the vibe I need. Let’s just say it’s one where we are up against a lot of money and power, which we all know means connections in dangerous places.” I lean my arm on top of the center console, trying to stay relaxed. My body feels restless, which is never a good sign.
“You need me.” The tone from Bull is all work and no emotion.
“No, I told you I’ll call if I do. Now fuck off and go have a holiday good enough for both of us. Eat, drink, and get some action if you’re lucky enough to find someone who has no taste.” I smile to myself, knowing he is frowning on the other end of the phone, as I haven't even acknowledged his concern for me.
“All I can say is at least I tried. I’ll remember this conversation when you call me begging for my skills to help you. Now, thanks to you making me drink all that whiskey last night, I have the pleasure of turning up at my mother’s place with a hangover.” Finally, Bull has got the message that I don’t want to talk about work.
“Bullshit, that’s not my fault. If you were stupid enough to drink it, then that’s on you, buddy.”
Bull starts laughing at his own problem. “I forgot it’s been a while since I've had any alcohol, and I’m a bit of a lightweight these days. Lucky you hadn’t started on your drink.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered if I had. I could drink you under the table any day of the week, just like I can beat you at pool. Let’s face it, you aren’t much competition against the master,” I say, knowing I have just poked the bear with my comment.
“Fuck, you are an arrogant asshole sometimes,” Bull complains.
“Just sometimes? I must be slipping.”
I hear him groan again. “I’m not sure I can put up with you for much longer, I don’t have a spare vomit bucket in the truck with me.”
“That’s okay, I need to go anyway. I’m getting closer, and I need to call in and give them notification I’m almost there. Time to go to work,” I say, taking a deep breath.
“Okay, keep that ass that you’re so fond of safe.” Laughing out loud, I don’t even give him time to say anything else.
“Roger that, dickhead. See you on the other side.” Hanging up on him, I know I will have pissed him off. There are two versions of our relationship. Exactly like this, where we are constantly trying to one-up each other. The other is the "completely submerged into work mode" version, where there is no room for humor or error.
Slipping into that mode, I place the call to the agents in the safe house and immerse myself in the new case.
* * *
Arriving thirty minutes before the estimated ETA is perfect because it gives me time to walk the perimeter and get my bearings. I have used this house once before, but it was years ago. We tend to use a house then leave it dormant for a while, just to take any heat and suspicion off it.
There are trees along the back boundary that are useful, in that they keep the house private but also makes it harder to see who is lurking around you. Just means I need to be vigilant on surveillance. Hopefully the security system is up to the grade it should be. If there is one thing that pisses me off in my job, it's the lack of funding for the technology we need in the field to do our job effectively. I get sick of hearing all the bullshit that head office spouts about budget cutbacks. One day the lack of quality equipment is going to cause the death of a client that we should have kept safe. I’ll guarantee it won’t be happening on my watch, that’s for sure.
“I’m happy with the setup so far, although the security system is shit, like I expected. I assume you've tested all the monitors and triggers?” I'm signing off on the paperwork for my staff who were sent here before me to get the house livable and stocked with food, clothes, and necessities.
“When was the last time you found one that was good enough to do the job?” Zero smiles at me as I hand back his pen.
“Can’t say I ever have, if I’m being honest.” They all know what I’m like. I didn’t get this far in my job without demanding perfection from myself and anyone I work with. That’s why I run the jobs now and they take their instructions from me. I’ve been offered a desk job plenty of times and refused. Working in the field is what I want to do and where my strengths lie.
The sound of a car pulling up around the back of the house already has me frustrated and the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.
“Why the fuck didn’t the front gate sensor alert me they entered the property?” I growl, storming across to my laptop to pull up the camera vision of the driveway. “Get that fixed now!” Of all the parts of the security system that needs to be working, it’s the first line of defense.
