1 Manic Monday (5 page)

"I like the cold."

She put her head on his shoulder, facing the lights. 
He resisted the temptation to turn to look at her face.  He knew he would
not be able to resist the enchantment of her illumined by the lights reflecting
off the water.  He closed his eyes, concentrating.  He tried to avoid
the image of her blue eyes sparkling, looking up at him.

"Gary says you are very private.
Very
shy."

"Gary talks too much,"
  he
said, allowing a smile to touch his lips.

She chuckled at this.

"That is what my friend
Melissan
says, too."

"So you aren't a model, after all.  Are you
sure?"

"Oh, I am positive."

"So, how long have you been working for Sinegem?"

"It might be hard to believe, but I was recruited in
2009 when Sinegem first became publicly traded."

"Who owned it before that?"

"China, of course."

"I see.  So were you always a corporate spy?"

He could feel her smile against his shoulder.

"No.  I was a model."

"Ah.  So I wasn't too far off."

"Sinegem saw that I could be quite persuasive and began
training me to infiltrate other companies to obtain corporate secrets, recruit
key personnel, or act as a liaison in matters regarding mergers or
take-overs."

Jake was impressed.  He wanted to be ambivalent. 

"I have to admit that you seem to have quite a
resume."

She looked up at him,
a mischievous
grin lighting up her face.  Her hand snaked its way inside his coat and
caressed his chest through his shirt.

"I didn't know this was an interview, Mr. Monday,"
she said, her voice sultry.

"I usually have my dates more properly vetted, to be
sure," he said.

"Speaking of qualifications, Mr. Monday, I still do not
know what you do for a living," she teased.

Jake understood that under that teasing tone was a serious
question.  For a moment, he considered telling the truth.  Would the
truth surprise her?  Would it push her away?  He could only
hope.  Despite what his body was saying, he did not need this.

"Once your interview is finished, I will be happy to
answer your question."

She raised her eyebrows and stepped away from him.  She
crossed her arms in front of her.  She did not wear a coat.  He
almost felt sorry for her.

"What more do you need to know about me?  You
already said I was impressive."  She sounded closer to serious
now.  He preferred that.  He didn't want to cloud his impression of
her with a false sense of motivation or intent.  Honesty was always
better.

Gary thought that Giselle had been his idea.  Jake knew
the truth.  This was a sanctioned Galbraith meeting.  Gary was a
convenient middle man.  He would be shocked to know how he had been
used.  His ego would be bruised for days.  Sinegem was a
client.  If the material in the folder was any indication, Giselle might
just be his next assignment.  She had not been named, but the synopsis had
indicated a corporate spy was threatening corporate interests. 

This meeting was even more curious than it seemed.

"I am just being cautious."

She looked at him warily.

"What have you been told?"

He shrugged.

"I don't think it matters what others say.  I need
to hear it from you directly."

"What, exactly?"
 
She had not moved her arms.  She was obviously cold.  Jake enjoyed
making her squirm.

"Why Sinegem wants to hire an assassin."

He let it hang there in the moist, cold air.  He
watched her closely, looking for surprise.  He was disappointed.  She
never batted an eye. 

Why do I always underestimate women?
Jake asked
himself.

"I thought you came here tonight to have some
fun," she replied, disappointment gracing each word like icing dripping
from a cake.

"This is fun."

She shook her head and took his arm again, nuzzling beside
him.  She felt colder than before. Stiff.  The magic had died. 
He had offended her.  It was better this way.  No more pretending.

He was not sure she would answer.  He tried to make
himself impervious to her charms.  It was difficult.  Somehow, he felt
that something more was at stake here than information.

"I have a different idea of fun," she said
huskily.

He smiled.  She did not give up easily.

"I am sure you do, Giselle.  For me to trust you,
I will need us to put aside our attraction for each other for a moment. 
We need to be honest with one another."  He pulled away from her as
he said this.  He wanted to look her in the eye so that she could see he
was serious.  He knew it would be wise to leave the door open, though,
just to keep her interested.

She sighed and looked out into the night.

"I had guessed you came out here in the cold to be
alone.  I thought you could use some company."

He smiled.

"I am enjoying your company so far."  He
removed his overcoat and draped it over her shoulders.  She would be more
candid if she were not chattering through her teeth.

She
smiled,
a hint of
shyness. 

Where did Sinegem find this girl?
Jake wondered.

"Darius Electric Cooperative is resisting the
take-over.  They have hired some…unsavory personnel to protect their
interests.  We are seeking help in removing this obstacle."

He was familiar with Darius Electric.  They were the
client that Lars had contracted.  Apparently, it was a side job.
Again, curious.
  Jake did not make it a habit to second
guess his assignments.  He was a tool, a finely tuned machine that did its
job without complaint.   The question that nagged him was what Darius
would want with a woman like Giselle.

With hundreds of thousands of businesses in the world making
millions and billions of dollars annually, it always shocked Jake how ruthless
they could be when their livelihood was threatened.  These were supposed
to be law-abiding citizens.  Of course, the closer he got to organizations
like Sinegem, the more absurd the idea of pristine or innocent corporations
seemed.

"And Sinegem seeks to eliminate the security that is
protecting the owners and board so they can influence them directly to meet
their demands.  I guess that is the definition of a hostile
takeover."

She did not smile at that.  She bit her lip and stared
off across the choppy waters.  Her breath plumed into frost around her
head.  She held his overcoat tight across her and shivered again.

"It isn't as simple as that," she said, her voice
shaking.

Jake swallowed.  He could not tell if she was emotional
or merely cold.

"What is
so
complicated as a
big company trying to swallow up a small company hoping to get bigger?"

"For starters, the unsavory personnel that Darius has
employed
is
Galbraith."

He put his hands in his pockets and smirked.  On a deep
level, he loved irony.  It made life exciting.

"I see," Jake replied.  Pretending was like
telling a lie.  Both were easy to do if you could convince yourself
first.  "So, how do I fit into this equation, Giselle?"

"I need you to allow me to do my job, Mr. Monday,"
she looked up at him, her eyes glassy.

It is probably just the cold wind, Jake thought.

"No one has ordered me to do anything about you at
all.  I am just a puppet on a string, after all.  I don't know what
you have been told that I do…"

She put one finger to his lips and the other found its way
to his chest again.  The overcoat slipped to the deck with a sharp
thud. 

I should remember to keep my weapons under my shirt or
something,
Jake chided himself.

"I know all about you, Mr. Monday.  I know all I
need to know.  Sinegem wants you, Mr. Monday.  Come to work for
us.  You don't need Galbraith anymore.  Our contract with your
organization is in jeopardy over this.  There is no need for you to
continue to work for an organization with such little loyalty.  Besides,
you are a known commodity in our business."

As tempting as that sounded, he could not ignore the alarm
in his head.

He looked down at her.  He found that looking into her
eyes was harder to do than he had expected.  They were so blue they seemed
almost electric.  He cleared his throat and stepped back.

Jake reached down and retrieved the overcoat and put it
across his arm, keeping the gun against his stomach.

"It is getting too cold out here to stand around like
this.  We should join the others," he said with finality. 

To her credit, Giselle remained stoic. A playful smiled
tugged at the corners of her mouth and she arched her eyebrows.

"Of course, Mr. Monday.
 
I will look forward to continuing our interview at a future time. 
Perhaps soon."

He nodded and licked his lips.

"Perhaps," he managed as he took her arm and began
pretending again.  Together, they walked into the warmth and bright lights
of the teak- and chrome-lined cabin.

Home Alone

Jake stretched out on his leather sectional.  Sometimes
he liked sleeping out here.  It made him feel less lonely.  He felt
more like a bachelor or college student driven to excesses and just crashing.

The only problem was that he could not remember ever being a
college student.  A diploma on his wall claimed that he had graduated with
a Bachelor of Science degree from Purdue.  A photo by his bedside had a
picture with him partying with some apparent friends at a college bar.  He
did not recognize any of them—not even the blonde draped across his lap
drinking directly from a beer tap.  Next to it was another degree:  a
Master in Criminal Science from Ohio State.

These photos belonged to him.  He knew it.  They
were there by his bed.  Somehow, he felt they were not actually a part of
him.  They were someone else’s life. 
Some other
time.
  He had given up on puzzling it all out.

He took this lack of memory and the mystery of his life in
stride.  He lay back and tried to relax. He did not want to wake with a
stiff neck.  He stared up at the ceiling in the darkness, wondering about
the evening he just had.  He managed to escape with his dignity and his
sobriety.  He could not say the same for the majority of the people who
attended the party.

When he arrived home, the snow had piled up so high that he
felt like he had to walk up hill just to enter the building.  The porter
had long before shuffled off to manage his two hour nap in the linen
closet. 

Giselle could melt the snow at his doorstep.  She was
that hot.  He tried not to think of her specifically. 

Jake made a mental note to check out Darius Electric
Cooperative in the morning.  He was not the one who usually did the
legwork and research.  He was more point-and-click
.  Mark a target
and watch me shoot.
  Sometimes he felt like the hunter in that old
Atari game. 

He listened to the sounds of the leather sectional creak
beneath him, the hum of his refrigerator in the kitchen, the knocks and pings
of the old building, the cooing of birds outside his penthouse windows. 
He glanced out the bay of windows, expecting to see more snow falling.  It
had stopped.

He sighed.  He was restless.  He could not wait
until morning.  He had to know.

Jake swung his feet onto the floor and flung the quilt
off.  He stared at it for a second, wondering again where he had gotten
it.  He shook his head.  It was three in the morning and he was not
operating at capacity.  Tomorrow was Saturday and he did not need to go to
the office to get the information he needed.

He shuffled into the kitchen and flicked the switch to his
secure network.  He waited as the log in screen blinked for a few moments
and watched the stupid circle spin and the Galbraith world logo revolve. 
He sighed.  He should be in bed.  Maybe the couch was a bad idea
tonight.

He logged in and began surfing anyway.  He wanted
something to drink.  He figured he would get the research done quickly and
then reward himself with a glass of milk.

Who knew assassins wore Armani, flossed regularly and drank
skim?

The information on the Darius website was the usual cheery
and overindulgent propaganda in which most companies participate. 
Environment this, safety that.  Stockholder shares protected, profits
maximized, customer retention and satisfaction the best in the world, et
cetera.  What Jake wanted was the personnel, the big wigs, the locations,
and the dollars. 

The things that mattered were buried, of course.  He
could see the place for contacting them, but it was just an email dump to the
administrator.  Not helpful. 
Eight-hundred number
and industry links.
  Not helpful.  Under the site map, he
found it, though. 
Company secure log in.
 
He plugged in the hacking device that Gary had gifted him for Christmas and
watched as its red lights illumined the darkness of his breakfast nook. 

While he waited, he got up and poured himself a glass of
milk.  He liked the way it felt going down his throat, coating it with
milky goodness.

I should stay up until three more often
, Jake
observed.

Gary's device beeped.  He glanced at the terminal and
saw that he had hacked into their intranet.  He felt a little dirty. 
Irony was so entertaining.  Darius was sure to meet with him on
Monday.  Saturday in the wee hours of the morning, he was going to access
all their grubby little secrets.

He hoped he could find some dirt on them so that he could
watch their faces on Monday.  If he had ever played baseball, maybe a
curve ball had been his favorite pitch.  He smirked.  He wished he
could remember.