Don't Order Dog_ 1(73)

“Wait… you’re here in Flagstaff?” Tom replied, the shock evident in his voice.

“Ten minutes.”

The line went dead the moment Alex finished his sentence. Tom kept the phone to his ear and smiled uneasily as he looked over at Chip. “Sounds good Alex, I will see you shortly.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket, his mind spinning.

Alex was in Flagstaff.

Something serious has happened.

Tom quickly composed himself and turned to Chip.

“Look Chip, I understand what–”

“Sounds like you’re off to handle more important matters,” Chip interrupted as he grabbed a handful of peanuts from a bowl on the counter.

“Sorry, but I have to go,” Tom said as he stood up from his stool.

“Right, of course. Don’t worry, Agent Coleman… I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things,” Chip replied, giving Tom a clumsy military salute.

“Please Chip,” Tom said in a low voice, “I just need to know if I can count on you.”

The older man drained his glass and placed it gently back on the counter. “You already have my answer,” he answered, glancing up at Tom. “I’ll do my part in this. Just make sure you don’t screw up yours.”





26.




The red brick pavers of Heritage Square were hidden under a pristine blanket of glittering snow as Tom paced down its wide center path. The large outdoor courtyard, a popular spot for concerts and sunbathing co-eds in the summer, was now a cold deserted landscape of folk-art benches and low fieldstone walls in the center of Flagstaff’s old downtown. It was a short walk from Joe’s Last Stand Saloon, and just minutes after his brief conversation with Alex, Tom was sitting on one of the frigid steel benches, anxiously tapping his gloved fingers against his crossed arms as he waited for his brother-in-law’s arrival.

He was dumbfounded that Alex was in Flagstaff. What the hell had happened that would make him come here? The question hung in Tom’s mind as the wind whistled softly through the leaf-stripped trees around him. Was it the email? He knew the email to his brother-in-law had been a gamble, but what did he have to lose? If his theory was wrong, Alex would dismiss it as he always did- as another nonsensical rant by his wife’s irritating younger brother.

But what if he was right?

Tom was still mulling over this question when he noticed two men walking north on Leroux Street. Both were ominous looking figures, dressed in heavy dark overcoats that concealed everything but the bottom seams of dark trousers and black, patent leather shoes. They stepped swiftly across the snow-covered intersection of Aspen Avenue directly towards the square.

Tom shifted uneasily as he watched them approach.

The two men stopped at the north end of the street and briefly exchanged words before one of the men nodded and continued north on Leroux Street. The other turned and walked directly towards Tom. As he passed under the street light, Tom immediately recognized the tall, athletic build and blonde hair of the approaching figure and stood to greet him.

“Happy Holidays, Alex,” he said, reaching out his gloved hand.

“Tom,” his brother-in-law said flatly, ignoring Tom’s hand as he gestured towards the street. “Let’s take a walk, shall we?”

“Sure,” Tom replied, a nervous weight pulling at his stomach.

The two men walked silently along Aspen Avenue towards the populated stretch of bars and restaurants. Tom kept in pace next to Alex, trying to sense the nature of the conversation that was about to take place. He glanced casually over his shoulder to see if the other agent was following them, but the sidewalk behind them was empty.

“So, how are Jane and the girls?” Tom asked, trying to ease the tension. “Jessica must be going on, what… five now?”

“She’s nine, Tom,” Alex said coldly as he stared ahead, the steam of his breath trailing behind him. “But I’m not here to talk about the family. I’m here to get some answers from you.” He stopped suddenly and grabbed Tom’s jacket at the center of his chest “Starting with that fucking email you sent me last week.”

Tom swallowed hard as he stared up at his brother-in-law. At six-foot-four, Alex stood more than a half-foot taller than him.

“And since you’re family, I’m going to give you the chance to tell me the no-shit truth about everything going on here before I decide whether or not to bring you up on charges.”

Tom’s eyes went wide. “Charges? For what?”

“Withholding critical information in matters of National Security,” Alex replied matter-of-factly. “In a few minutes we’re going to be joined by one of my colleagues, and if you’re nervous now, you have no fucking idea what you’ll be in for if you don’t tell me what the hell this is all about.” He released his grip on Tom and continued walking. “I’ve played along with your game of trying to get into the CIA for the last several years because you’re my brother-in-law, but enough is enough. You needed help with knowing the inside workings of agency recruiting– fine. You needed some coaching on the entrance exams– no problem. I gave you every form of help I could possibly give you Tom, and guess what– you still blew it. That’s the truth of the matter. Now tell me,” Alex stopped again and faced Tom. “After everything I’ve done for you, are you honestly trying to use some kind of self-discovered intelligence on a possible terrorist as a bargaining chip to get into the agency?”