Don't Order Dog_ 1(129)
Letter #4 / Puerto La Cruz, Venezuela:
Corresponding Incident: Derek Birch killed / falls overboard on a private yacht
Statements made in letter: Brainybuddies / there are four of these little bastards / cash cow / drowning in charm / I’ve nabbed one of these little bastards, and the other three are practically in the bag
Letter #5 / Kaliningrad, Russia:
Corresponding Incident: Researcher Tatyana Aleksandrov killed in a laboratory cafeteria / explosive device in vending machine
Statements made in letter: a lowly vending machine in the loathsome global cafeteria
Letter #6 / Amsterdam, The Netherlands:
Corresponding Incident: CIA raid on target’s hotel room / death of target
Statements made in letter: were planning to throw me off course
Letter #7 / Dongying, China:
Corresponding incident: -- unknown –
Statements made in letter: -- unknown --
Tom leaned back in his chair and shook his head in frustration. The messages had been staring out at him from the beginning, hidden in plain sight within the words of the letters. Why had he not seen it sooner? He silently chastised himself for a moment before realizing there was no point in questioning his competence at this stage in the investigation. Regardless of whatever mistakes he had made, he was still the only one who had managed to follow the terrorist’s trail. And now he finally knew what the man was up to.
Or at least nearly knew.
He leaned forward and quickly typed a brief summary beneath the notes.
- Death of Marcello Avogadro in Assam marked the completion of a previous assignment by target.
- Target traveled to Al Jubail where he obtained current assignment.
- Current assignment involves the assassination of four Petronus Energy researchers
- Target successfully carried out three of the four assassinations prior to trip to Amsterdam.
- Amsterdam trip was designed to throw investigating agencies from target’s trail
- Target is currently in China to complete the fourth and final assassination of assignment.
Tom looked at the summary, confident in his conclusions. He was now certain than the statements in the letters were in fact status updates on the murders that were intended for someone here in Flagstaff. Unfortunately, they didn’t reveal any clue as to who that person might be. And trying to find them without something to go on would be next to impossible. He couldn’t very well detain every person that walked into the bar and glanced at the shrine of letters. Even if he did, what then? What would he be looking for?
Only one other piece of evidence remained that Tom hadn’t fully examined – the letter that arrived yesterday morning. Between Joe’s aggravated state and the unexpected discovery of being followed, Tom had failed to take a photo of it when he was at the saloon. Considering what he’d just uncovered in the first six letters, there was little doubt something useful was hidden in this latest letter as well. Perhaps it might reveal something about the final assassination in China. But there wasn’t much time. He needed to get to Joe’s and examine that letter immediately.
Tom glanced at his watch and was shocked to see that it was already after 4pm. He quickly saved the document on his laptop and re-filed his notes before grabbing his coat and heading out the door. Halfway through the first floor corridor of the ICE offices, the same colleague who was always asking Tom to lunch suddenly appeared in the hallway before him.
“Hey Tommy-boy,” his coworker said with a sarcastic grin. “What’s the rush? Getting ready to raid Taco Bell for illegals again?”
“It’s classified,” Tom said tersely as he brushed past him.
“Alright… alright,” his coworker replied as he raised his hands defensively. “Jesus man, what’s going on around here? First you disappear for a while, then Rick Martin disappears, and now you’re running around all serious and secretive. It’s like we’re becoming the CIA or something.”
Tom shrugged dismissively as he walked towards the exit, mumbling a response under his breath.
“Fuck the CIA.”
∞
Rick trudged up the last flight of stairs of building #847 and stepped cautiously onto the dormitory’s top floor. Despite being in decent shape, he felt winded and slightly dizzy. He briefly wondered if he was coming down with some form of Chinese flu as he turned up the collar of his jacket and studied his surroundings. On his right, through a thinning veil of fog, the open corridor offered a panoramic view of the dorms and factory buildings that formed the vast industrial complex. In front of him, carved in regular intervals by the recessed entryways of apartments, the fifteenth floor stretched for several hundred yards before terminating at another large stairway. Rick stared down the empty walkway and tried to ignore the nervous excitement that now gripped his stomach. The Director’s final words from their conversation that morning once again echoed in his head.