Elite (6 page)

“It sure is,” Daniel finally answered Blank’s question, after surveying the enormity of the space.

It was a longer walk across the catwalk than Daniel had realized when they had gotten off the elevator. He had not yet fully grasped the sheer size of the building, perhaps because it was such a wide open space. As they neared the end of it, Daniel noticed that the back wall of the upper level of the complex was lined with office windows. When they finally reached the windows, Daniel glanced into the one directly in front of them and noticed a large office area with a couple dozen cubicles inside of it. The majority of them appeared to be occupied, with their occupants either on the phone or engrossed by whatever happened to be staring back at them on their computer screens.

The catwalk dead-ended at another metal walkway, which lead along the wall of office windows. Once they arrived at the dead end, Blank took a sharp left and Daniel followed.

As they made their way along the wall and past the array of windows, Daniel would glance into each one. The room after the large open office appeared to be some sort of conference room, with a long mahogany table in the center which was lined by black leather desk chairs. After the conference room was what appeared to be a break room of some sort, followed by a couple of empty private offices. Finally, at the very end of the platform was a private office with the blinds drawn, the light from inside dulled by the blinds which blocked its escape. On the heavy wooden door was a plaque that read, “Charles P. Richfield: Boss.”

Boss?
Daniel smiled to himself in disbelief. That was his official title? “Boss?”

Blank reached the door first and gave three solid knocks. After no more than four seconds the door opened.

Daniel’s view of the person who opened the door was blocked by the blinds in the window, but Blank was standing directly across from him.

“This is the kid I was telling you about,” Blank told the unseen individual.

“Bring him in,” a man’s voice responded.

Blank turned his head to Daniel, “After you kid,” he instructed.

Daniel walked past Blank and into the doorway. As he entered he found that the office was much smaller and much more basic than he had originally expected. It had grey-blue carpeting and a drop ceiling like in the lobby. In the center of the room was what looked to be an antique wooden desk, and behind it was a bookshelf that also appeared to have originated in the Days of Yore.

Up against the wall, to the right of the desk were two plain grey filing cabinets. One was two drawers high by three drawers wide, and the other was a tower that stood five drawers high. On the opposite wall of the filing cabinets was a modestly sized window that overlooked the street. From the right angle Daniel could see the hot dog joint he had eaten at earlier.

In the middle of the room sat two curvy, wooden armchairs. They appeared to be the most stylistic pieces of furniture in the entire office.

To the right, just inside the doorway was a coat hanger. After entering the room Blank hung his hat on one of its arms, revealing his hair to Daniel for the first time. He had jet black hair, savor a few scattered greys. His hairline had receded halfway up his scalp, and it was all slicked straight
back, being held in place by what Daniel figured must have been a palm-full of grease.

The man must have noticed Daniel surveying the simplicity of the room.

“I don’t like to waste a whole lot of time and energy on things I don’t need,” he said to Daniel as he placed something in his middle desk drawer and closed it. He then walked around the front of his desk toward Daniel. “I find symbols of status petty. And besides, the only thing they’re good for is getting in the way.

“Chuck Richfield,” he introduced himself, holding his hand out to Daniel.

Daniel shook it. “Daniel Hart,” he responded.

“Have a seat Daniel,” he said, gesturing to one of the two wooden armchairs sitting across from his desk.

Richfield was a rather tall man. Daniel stood six feet tall and guessed that Richfield had at least three inches on him, maybe four. He was a bit huskier than Daniel would have expected a man who worked in a facility like his would be, but that could have been attributed to his age, which Daniel guessed to be around fifty. There was also the fact that he was the boss. As the boss he didn’t need to be in shape – he wasn’t protecting anyone. It was simply his job to make the business profitable.

Judging by his office and his wardrobe, it didn’t appear as though he were by any means a wealthy man. He wore simple, non-pleaded khaki pants that could be found on the shelf at any run-of-the-mill department store. The faded white button-up that curved around his moderately sized gut was unbuttoned near the top, exposing a few dark chest hairs trying to escape. Not exactly the look Daniel was expecting from Blank’s boss.

Richfield’s face however, did look quite distinguished. He had thick black hair that probably would have reached the bottom of his earlobes if not for the fact that it was pushed back behind them. His sideburns showed traces of grey. His square face was covered in stubble, and he had bushy black eyebrows which sat atop icy blue eyes. In the center of his face was a round, larger than average nose that ranked as his most prominent feature.

“Mister Blank tells me a lot about you,” he said, starting the conversation as he rested his backside against his desk rather than sitting in the chair behind it.

Blank had moved himself over to the filing cabinets and took a seat on the shorter, wider one, resting his back against the wall.

Daniel thought for a second. Between the Cheesecake factory, the phone call, and today he had experienced about three total minutes of interaction with Blank. How could Blank have more than a few words to say about him?

“Well, I haven’t actually had the opportunity to spend much time with him,” Daniel pointed out.

Richfield smirked, and looked back over his shoulder at Blank. “Mister Blank has been with me a long time,” he began, turning his head back to Daniel. “He does many things for me, but he mostly specializes in recruiting. He’s one of the very best. He can tell a lot about a person from just a small amount of observation.”

In Daniel’s case it was a miniscule amount of observation. Unless…had Blank been spying on him?

“I only need a few minutes kid. And that day on the Mag Mile, I saw what I needed to saw,” Blank put in, using his unique flavor of speech.

Daniel let out an audible breath, representing a laugh.
Saw what he needed to saw.
If he didn’t know any better he would have thought he was beginning to grow fond of Mr. Blank.

“He’s something, isn’t he?” Richfield asked Daniel, as if reading his mind.

Richfield seemed to be the exact opposite of Blank. He had a deep voice and spoke with great diction. He seemed to be a very grounded and educated man, who was used to dealing with people.

“Yeah, I still don’t understand why he came to me though,” Daniel put in.

“I asked Mister Blank to find a particular person for a very special project I need done,” Richfield explained, folding his arms and rubbing his stubble with his right hand. “And he thinks that person could be you, if you want it.”

Daniel shook his head, still confused. “Isn’t this a security agency? I don’t understand. I’m in radio sales. I’ve never even been in a fight in my entire life. I know nothing about personal security.”

“That’s just it Daniel,” Richfield attempted to explain, “For what we’re trying to accomplish, you don’t need any of that experience.”

He paused and looked at Daniel, as if wanting him to display even more confusion after the comment which had still not explained anything to Daniel.

When Richfield seemed satisfied that he had created enough confusion within Daniel, he stood up from the desk and strode around behind it.

“We are no ordinary security force,” he continued as he plopped down into his cushy desk chair. “There’s a reason they call us Elite. See, I used to be in the CIA…”

“Really?” Daniel unavoidably interjected. He would have never guessed that this seemingly insignificant man sitting across from him was in the most secretive government agency in the world. Although it did explain the mystery surrounding that place and its people.

“Yes, twenty years. I know it’s hard to believe but it’s true. I can’t be too specific about everything I did, just know that I killed people – A lot of people.
Many of them prominent individuals in their given society. A couple of them were even American. I worked as an Assassin for the CIA. I can’t tell you anymore, I shouldn’t have even told you that much, but it is important that you understand where I came from.”

Daniel just sat, staring in disbelief. Richfield’s light blue eyes had suddenly become much darker behind his big, black eyebrows. Daniel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Here was a man, telling him about all the people he’s killed for the government, and that man is asking him to
come work on a “special project” for him. It seemed almost impossible to Daniel that this was real – that Richfield could be telling him the truth. And yet, there was something about Richfield that made Daniel believe all of it.

Daniel took a quick glance over at Blank, who was looking back at him with that same stupid mobster smirk on his face. Did nothing faze that man?

“Anyway,” Richfield continued, “All that time, I considered myself one of the most dangerous men in the world. To know that I could kill any person, anytime I wanted to, and that there was nothing they could do about it. The CIA always had what they considered a good reason for me to eliminate everyone that I did, so I didn’t feel guilty per say, but when I got out I couldn’t stop thinking about some of my targets. Especially the really prominent ones who had taken so many precautions to keep themselves safe from assassins like me. Folks who had surrounded themselves with so many people that they trusted to protect them, but were unable to prevent me from accomplishing my mission.

“On top of that, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Not only had my body aged, resulting in me no longer being the weapon I once was, but I had no real life skills. Killing was the only thing I was good at, and there’s really no market for that in the real world.”

Richfield let out a bit of a laugh as he finished that last part. Daniel just stared at him in stunned silence before swallowing, a bit harder than normal. Here he was, sitting before Charles Richfield, once the world’s greatest assassin. Who knew if Charles Richfield was even his real name. Daniel suddenly began to fear a little for his life, and rightfully so.

“Then I thought a little about all those targets, and all their failed attempts to protect themselves, and it hit me – I could train others to protect high profile people from would be assassins like
myself. If anyone could do it, who better than me? So I found Mister Blank, and we rounded up the best of the best – Ex-special forces, FBI, CIA, you name it, we got them all. I taught them everything I know and then some. I got in touch with some of my old contacts at the company, and found potential targets for agencies both foreign and domestic, legal and illegal, and offered them our protection. Sure they were skeptical at first, but they soon realized that there was no one on God’s green earth that could protect them better than my men. No secret service agent, cop, or bodyguard in the world can do what my men can. They are in better physical condition and have received more extensive training than any Navy Seal or Army Ranger. We are the elite. And so this company you see before you began. Our reputation now precedes us in many circles, and high-profile individuals are constantly begging for our protection – from celebrities to senators – and they’re willing to pay top dollar for it. Some of them are just paranoid rich folks, while others have had their lives seriously threatened. Either way, if they’re willing to pay, we will be there to protect them from anything.”

Daniel continued to stare and tried to absorb all of the insane information that Richfield had just delivered. “That’s intense,” he managed. “You guys are like the Justice League or something.”

Richfield chuckled. “Something like that. Just without the super powers. My men and women are just that, men and women. But they’ve been trained so that their bodies and minds can reach their absolute potential. At least as much as modern science will allow,” he concluded.

That last part struck Daniel a little funny.
As much as modern science would allow.
He guessed it was just a reference to the super powers quip.

“I still don’t understand though,” Daniel said, realizing the truth of his statement as it came out. “What does all of this have to do with me? I’m not ex-military, I’ve never been a cop or in any type of government agency. I’m not at all qualified for any of this.”

“That’s exactly why you are perfect for this special project,” Richfield responded.

Again with this special project!
Daniel thought to himself, frustrated.
Just tell me what the damn thing is!

Before he could get the question out, Mr. Blank chimed in, “You have the one thing we are looking for with this project kid – the overwhelming desire to be better.”

That remark stopped Daniel in his tracks. Blank was right about that. Daniel wanted more than anything to improve his life, to improve himself, to have more to offer than assholes like Gordon Demérs.