The Backup Asset

…31

Alex pulled in the visitor parking lot and looked at the familiar building. This was where it had all started, just a couple of years before. She remembered her job interview with Tom Isaac, The Agency’s owner; she remembered how scared, self-conscious, and insecure she felt at first, and how exhilarated she was when she had accepted the unusual job offer, without worrying about any of the risks.

She had always considered herself very lucky to land her dream job. Although, in retrospect, knowing what she knew of how The Agency operated, she wasn’t that sure it was luck that made it happen. Tom had fielded her direct questions by saying she had been selected, but never offered a word more.

She was grateful for his confidence, for the opportunity to work with a fantastic team of smart, powerful, and knowledgeable business people. She had a lot to learn from them and she enjoyed it. She was happy she didn’t have to deal with boredom at work; after all, she had to infiltrate a new organization every few months or so, and start a brand new investigation.

Alex was a little worried on that particular day, considering Tom had summoned her to the office. They typically met at his home, where Alex had become a part of the family, welcome any time without announcing herself ahead. Her conscience was bothering her a little too, because she had been unable to focus lately. Tom might have sensed that. Who was she kidding… for sure he had sensed that, otherwise he’d make a very poor observer of people’s behavior, and that was impossible, considering his company’s line of work and record of success.

She braced herself for the meeting, and a wave of sadness came upon her as she walked through the doors. She hated disappointing Tom, or any other member of the team, yet that had been the norm in the past few weeks.

She reached Tom’s office and tapped quietly on the door.

“Alex, come in,” Tom said, getting up from his massive leather chair to greet her. “It’s good to see you! You’ve been a stranger lately!”

“Good to see you too, Tom, and yes, I have. And I’ve missed you, all of you,” she said, averting her eyes.

She turned her back and poured herself a cup of coffee from Tom’s machine, then sat down, sipping it slowly, and inhaling the French Vanilla aroma. All good reasons to avert her eyes some more.

“So, why the absence? What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing much, really, just tired, I guess,” she replied, continuing to avoid his scrutinizing glance.

At sixty-three, Tom Isaac was the father figure in her life: friend, mentor, boss, and a shoulder to cry on when she needed one. He was an amazing man. Very bright and profound, extremely perceptive with people and a keen investigator, yet someone so independent and so motivated by his own beliefs that he had chosen to start a private investigations firm that exclusively handled corporate clients, a unique and challenging business. It was very hard to lie to him.

“You’re doing it again,” Tom said in a kind voice.

“What?” she asked.

“Remember your job interview? You’re giving me the bullshit dance, Alex.” He smiled encouragingly, then continued, “Is it this office? You’ve only done this twice since I’ve known you, and both times it happened here, in this office,” he clarified humorously. “It must be the office, I believe.”

Scratch that, Alex thought. No, it was impossible to lie to him.

“Busted,” she laughed sheepishly. “Yeah… I was giving you the bullshit dance. But I won’t anymore.”

“Wanna try again?”

“Yeah… It’s my last case, that’s all. Still keeps me up at night.”

“But we closed that case,” Tom argued. “Why is it still bothering you?”

“Everyone, including you,” she said, gesturing with her hand, a little irritation seeping in her voice, “says we closed the case successfully. But did we? We didn’t catch the leader; we don’t even know who he is, other than he’s Russian. All we have is a piece of very thin intel that his name might start with the letter V. We caught the rest of the terrorists, but this guy… This guy drives me crazy. He has to exist somewhere, leave a trace somewhere.”

Tom leaned forward in his chair, with a look of concern on his face.

“Alex, one of the most difficult things we have to face in our jobs is letting go. It’s not risking our lives, it’s not being held at gunpoint, it’s not even being arrested or shot. It’s exactly what you’re going through now, letting go.”

“Has it happened to you too?” she asked, looking him in the eye for the first time since she’d arrived in his office.

“More than once,” he admitted.

“How did you manage to let go?”

“I had to pull myself out of it, because I was screwing up my new client engagements, just like you are screwing up yours now. An unfocused mind can be deadly in our line of work, to you, to all of us.”

She blushed instantly, feeling her cheeks burn and tears coming to her eyes.

“I am sorry, so sorry, Tom, I hope you know that,” she whispered.

“I know you are, but this isn’t the point.” He paused a little, letting his words sink in. “This,” he continued, pointing at her, “is not the girl I hired. The girl I hired had gumption and drive. There was no stopping her and no messing with her. She always got the job done, effectively, courageously, and intelligently. She cared about her clients to the point of self-sacrifice. While you, you are spaced out half the time, mulling over an unsolvable problem.”

“If I only had a lead, I would instantly turn back into that girl,” Alex said timidly.

“And what if you don’t? What if you’ll never get that lead? Is this it? You’re gonna throw your career and life away for a Russian ghost, whose name potentially starts with V?”

She couldn’t bring herself to answer. He was right. Well, Tom was always right, that made him who he was.

“How did you let go? Tell me what I should do, please,” she pleaded.

“First of all,” he stated, counting on his fingers, “you have to decide to let go, with all your being, all your willpower. Until you do that, you won’t find peace in letting go. Mind over matter, remember?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes fixated on the carpet’s gray and blue pattern.

“Then you act on your decision,” Tom continued, “you do the things you have to do to close that case for good.”

“Like what?”

“Burn your crazy wall. Get rid of that corkboard and everything that’s on it, and turn that spare bedroom into a movie screening room, or something. Turn it into something you like, something that makes you happy, and let some sunshine in.”

She looked at him with piercing eyes, while her faced transformed from the earlier embarrassment and sadness into sheer anger.

“You’ve never been in that room, Tom. How did you know about it?”

Tom cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “Steve… well, Steve talked to me about it.”

“He did, now, didn’t he?” Her voice was low, threatening.

“You have to understand, Alex, we all care about you and we want you to be healthy, get on with your life.”

“So that makes it all right to talk about me behind my back?” she snapped, standing up so abruptly that her chair tipped over. She didn’t even notice it, as she started pacing the room like a caged animal. “What, Mr. Shrink now thinks I lost it and has turned me into you? Is that how it works?”

“You should know me better than this,” Tom said in a hurt voice, “you should know us better than this.”

Maybe she should… She stopped her pacing and looked out the window, focusing intently on a distant palm tree, glimmering in the sunlight as if it were made of tinfoil.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. This was her boss she was yelling at, and she loved her job; she definitely wanted to keep it. She needed to act as such.

“Tom,” she said, turning toward him apologetically, “I am very sorry for my outburst. I–I felt betrayed, that’s all. Steve and I have a relationship, and I thought… well, I never thought he’d do this to me.”

“I understand,” he said, “but it just confirmed what I was saying. You’ve distanced yourself mentally to the point where you feel the need to protect yourself from us. You feel the need to hide what’s on your mind. What happened to that trust we had to work so hard to earn from you? Is it all gone?”

It had been a challenge for her to learn to trust The Agency’s team. Her teenage years and early adulthood had been riddled with hardship and heartbreak stemming from her parents’ spiraling descent into discontent with each other, verbal violence, and psychological abuse. She had left her parents behind as soon as she had turned eighteen, but she continued to remain wary, almost suspicious of people.

“I guess I’m falling back into old patters of behavior,” she admitted. “You have a point, Tom, and I’ll work hard on letting go, I promise. Thank you for continuing to believe in me.”

“I’ll never stop believing in you, Alex, that’s a promise. But you have to do your part and come back to us. Please try,” he said, standing up to see her out.

Her heart melted a little hearing his words. She welcomed his hug and inhaled the familiar scent of aftershave mixed with cigar smoke. She took in the feeling of safety and comfort for a second, then replied, “I will. It’s a promise.”