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Authors: Susan Willshire

The Cupel Recruits

BOOK: The Cupel Recruits
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The Cupel Recruits

by

Susan L. Willshire

 

WOLF PAW MEDIA

Boulder, Colorado -Orlando, Florida

 

Cover art by Kate Wyman, based upon concept by the author

 

Copyright © 2010 by Susan L. Willshire

 

Printed in the United States of America

All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act, no portion of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form (including, but not limited to, electronic, mechanical, recording, photocopying, or information storage and retrieval systems) without express written permission of the publisher. The scanning and distribution of this book via the internet without publisher permission is illegal and punishable by law.

 

Wolf Paw Media

3415 W. Lake Mary Blvd. #950879

Lake Mary, Florida 32795, USA

wolfpawmedia.com

 

The characters and events in this book, living and dead, are works of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is not intended by the author and is coincidence.

ISBN: 978-0-615-39736-8

Printed in the United States of America

 

Prologue

“I am engineering a solution,” Stone said to Wood as he handed him the disk.

“The new recruits?” Wood guessed. Wood turned the case over in his hands nervously and swallowed hard as he felt a constriction in his throat.

“Yes,” replied Stone with heaviness in his voice, “They arrive tomorrow.” He stared at Wood unflinchingly, closely watching his colleague for any signs of reaction that might tell their fate. He was hoping to learn more than he was privy to through nonverbal clues, but Wood’s experience won out and revealed nothing more, though both already knew the situation to be grave. Wood had no intention of making it worse or rattling his coworkers.

“Will she be pleased?” Wood asked flatly. His question really required no response. It was merely a test, as all of life is; He already knew the answer as he had pulled the files from Stone’s system in the late hours the night before.

“I believe so,” Stone responded sincerely, “These clips show their capabilities. I heard they were hand-picked for a complementary skill set and amazing aptitude. There are three connectors and two legacies in this batch.”

“Two legacies. Hmmm. I thought there were four connectors-what happened?”

“The fourth wasn’t ready. I studied her quite carefully,” Stone responded. He felt the weight of his decision. They didn’t leave a team member behind lightly, but he’d spent hours and hours watching her surveillance tapes and felt she simply wasn’t ready.

“She’ll be left behind alone? That will be rough.” Wood stood pensive for a moment, but was abruptly jolted to attention when Ruth Fielding entered the room. Ruth was 5’5” and petite, but walked with the authority of a drill sergeant. Her grey hair shone an iridescent white offsetting her crisp blue eyes, which somehow were warm while conveying a laser intelligence.

“You’re too recently back,” Ruth said quietly to Wood. Stone pretended not to hear. “There is no room for sentiment right now. I’ve been guilty of it before myself, because I know they get to you sometimes with the amount of surveillance we do, but there’s a time and a place.” She stepped toward the vast computer system embedded in the wall and switched on the viewing software. Speaking more loudly so Stone could hear also, she instructed:

“And we did pull two legacies in one batch once, long before either of you were born,” she smiled to herself remembering the lessons of long ago, “and you should see how that class turned out. Ancient history now, though.”

On the surveillance screen appeared a beautiful woman, about 28, with long, black hair, green eyes and a stellar smile. People often spoke to Lela like she was dumb, which amused her. Sometimes she would play along so as not to hurt their feelings. If they did it in a condescending way, however, she could cut them with an insightful comment as easily as look at them. Fortunately, today was not such a day. Ruth watched Lela on the screen for about 10 seconds,

“You’re right, she’s not ready,” she said directly to Stone. He breathed an inward sigh of relief, simultaneously grateful for her assessment and amazed that she could conclude in 10 seconds what he had spent hundreds of hours stretched over months to conclude. Well, he was only a Circle 2, so that was to be expected. No one really knew what circle Ruth was-she would never confirm, but he and the other young ones guessed it to be around 20. She knew it all, they said. And she did.

Chapter 1

Lela parked the car on the curb in her parent’s familiar neighborhood, just a few blocks away from the house. Cruising by, her brother’s car and his fiancée’s car were already in the driveway, so she kept going until parking was available. It was one of those neighborhoods full of charm and large on walking or biking to various shoppes, fruit stands, and bakeries. Her mother loved it because she could walk out daily and easily gather fresh ingredients for a meal without a large trip to the grocery store. Lela and her brother, Gabriel, loved it because they had fond memories of growing up there in an era where they had the illusion of safety and the naiveté of youth was permitted to persist, unlike today. Normally, Lela might have viewed the occasion as one to be disgruntled with “the alleged fiancée”, as she referred to her in her own mind, but being grateful for a short walk in the neighborhood outweighed her annoyance on this day.

She paused at the corner, remembering the beauty salon that had gone out of business and the space that sat empty for a few years until the neighborhood built up enough to attract a few larger chains. At that moment, her phone rang for at least the hundredth time that day.

“Aquila,” Lela said in a drone.

“Ms. Aquila, this is Captain Willingham. Just wanted to let you know I emailed you the final instructions for your team’s security protocols for tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Captain. I’m happy to say that’s the last item on your list,” she reported as she checked an item from a multipage checklist. “See you tomorrow.” Breezing into Starbucks, she rattled off her usual order as if on autopilot, “Chai Latte with skim milk, please.” Staring out the window, her mind began racing through that long to-do list for the event she was organizing the next day. Without her notice, an athletic-looking man one might call distinguished-looking were he a bit older stood less than a foot away and was staring at her intently. Her thoughts interrupted, she silently gave him a quick glance wondering why he was encroaching on her personal space.

“God marked you,” he stated flatly. He reminded her of someone. She laughed a quiet, awkward laugh that was more out of nervousness than out of humor and took half a step back. He stared at her seriously, picked up his coffee from the counter and walked out without a word. She relaxed, listening to the smooth sounds of Dean Martin as she waited for her order. Humming along under her breath, under the loud whir of the espresso machine, she amused no one but herself. Coffee in hand, she walked the blocks to her parent’s home thinking once again of all that she had to do the next day. This really wasn’t the most convenient time for a family dinner, but as she and Gabriel grew older, they seemed to be less frequent, maybe once a month. ‘Family comes first’ she reminded herself. Work would always be there; their parents, sadly, would not.

Three more calls arrived during Lela’s short walk to her family home. She checked off each of the items-territory map displays, mineral samples, and the schedule for tours of the new scientific facility-in order. As she walked up the stone pavers through the front garden, she saw Gabriel sitting on the front porch, sipping a tall iced tea.

“Wow, you look like Dad when we were little,” she truthfully teased her brother. Gabriel was about
6′0″
tall, had brown hair with subtle caramel highlights where the sun hit naturally at the part, and an easy grin that had always made him the one with the charm. Lela wasn’t really introverted so much as a bit hesitant. Once she knew people, she was warm and open. Gabriel, extroverted and popular, seemed even more-so because he, too, was a scientist. Her somewhat quiet nature tended to blend well in the scientific community, but Gabriel stood out like a rock star. They were both brilliant, but he received more public accolade since he was a more affable interview. Lela had always liked having Gabriel there to take the spotlight so she would not feel the burn of its’ glare. He wore khaki pants and a plain white shirt with the arms rolled up to contrast his tan arms, unbuttoned to reveal the white ribbed tank underneath due to the heat.

“I think it’s the 40’s outfit,” she giggled, hugging her brother and sitting down on the step next to him. Without realizing it, they sat in identical posture, elbows on knees, and each held a drink in their right hand. It was a picture their mother would have cherished: two grown siblings genuinely caring for each other. Teen years of bickering had been replaced with mutual respect.

“I’m on the front porch and it’s hot,” he jokingly defended, “Besides, Gretchen doesn’t mind. She likes to get dressed up and go swing dancing.”

“Of course she does,” Lela responded.

“Be nice today,” he warned, in a subtly more serious tone. Gabriel knew his sister was slower to warm up to people, but would not allow his fiancée to be uncomfortable as a result of it. At 33, he felt it had taken him a long time to find the woman he wanted to marry and he had no intentions of anything jeopardizing that.

“I will,” she conceded, tipping back the last of her latte and shaking the empty cup. They wordlessly arose and headed into the house.

Once the front door opened, the warm smells of Dad’s barbeque chicken and Mom’s baked goods filled the house.

“There she is!” their Mom exclaimed as both parents rushed her like a defensive line going for the quarterback. Crushed with their affection, Lela wriggled from their hugs after a moment and removed her shoes and over shirt, tossing her purse on the green lumpy chair in the corner.

The television was on and tuned to ‘Phillip Harriman: Master Psychic.’

“Oh, Mom’s watching the witch doctor show again,” Gabriel announced loudly and everyone paused to watch as the host delivered messages from beyond the grave to the grieving family on the screen as they sniffled and huddled together.

“Oh, I just had it on because Daddy and Gretchen were out back with the grill. But he’s not a witch doctor. You know, last week, he did one of those celebrity readings and told Shayna Falon where her family had left some stock certificates hidden. Sure enough, he was right,” Mrs. Aquila responded.

“And the rich get richer,” Mr. Aquila offered.

“Oh, please, that is sooo fake,” Gabriel contributed. Gretchen observed silently, trying to learn all the family dynamics that would affect the lives of her and her son for years to come. Lela’s phone rang again and she glanced at the display before clicking the caller to pass to voice mail. Surely, one hour of uninterrupted time wasn’t too much to ask.

“Actually, Mom,” Lela added, “you’ll be happy to know the Governor gave me a “gift” of a reading with this guy as a “reward” for all the work I’ve been doing on the project. He’s a really spiritual guy and believes in all that stuff, does trips to remote corners of the world to cleanse his soul and all that. So, I have to use it, since they’re friends and he’ll know if I don’t, but I figure I’ll just ask whatever questions you want me to, since you’re into this stuff.”

“Oh, honey, that’s so exciting. You really should be more open-minded. We’ve always raised you kids to be accepting of all religions and points of view.”

“Religions, yes, Mom, but witchdoctorey, come on!” Gabriel retorted.

Mrs. Aquila casually turned off the television and all knew that was the end of the discussion.

“We’re almost ready to eat,” their Mom stated as she turned back to her cutting of salad at the counter. Lela and Gabriel reverted to well-worn roles, she setting the dishes at the table and him pouring the drinks into glasses.

“Can I do anything to help?” Gretchen asked.

“No, we got it,” Lela replied quickly. Gretchen fidgeted a bit nervously with her soon-to-be in-laws, without a task to do.

“I could use some help with these mushrooms,” Mrs. Aquila offered and Gretchen brightened, cheerfully picking up the task. Lela’s phone rang again and, after viewing the display, she passed the caller to voice mail.

“I hope you know you’re not bringing that thing to the dinner table,” Mrs. Aquila advised. Lela laughed and placed it on the buffet behind her chair.

“Oh, two feet away, that helps,” her mother teased, then turned her attention to Gretchen as all were seated, “So, where is little Caleb today?”

“He’s with his grandparents. They had tickets to the zoo,” Gretchen replied.

“I hate to see animals in captivity,” Lela said in earnest, grabbing a roll from the center basket. Gabriel nudged at her under the table and beseeched with his eyes for a more amiable exchange. “But I’m sure he’ll have a great time,” she added for her brother’s benefit.

Mrs. Aquila looked pointedly at Lela. ‘Mom look number 4’ they called it as kids, when they knew she was displeased. Gabriel smirked at Lela a bit, half gloating as the victor of parental approval and half in empathy.

“Lela, are you dating anyone these days?” her mother asked, knowing the answer.

“No, mother,” Lela, getting the point, added quickly, smiling, “but there was a really dreamy guy back at Starbucks; I can run and fetch him if you like.” She struck a pose half-raised from her chair as if to run.

“Please do,” her Mom said with a definitive bite of salad and a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. Mrs. Aquila was a person who laughed with her eyes, knew her mind, and took pride in a task well done. Lela thought that was the end of it and relaxed back into her chair, but her escape was only momentary.

“Whatever happened to James Matthews?” Mrs. Aquila asked. Lela breathed deeply.

“Working overseas, I think,” she said curtly and shoved a too-large large bite of barbeque chicken in her mouth.

“Oh, that’s attractive,” their Dad teased.

“I thought the military men
liked
the more down-to-earth girls who can shovel food in at the rate of a sailor. Isn’t that right, Dad?” Gabriel asked, since his Dad had been in the military and he had not.

“Why, yes, Son,” their Dad answered in mock exaggeration, “while in foxholes, we would frequently discuss our desire to have a woman who could out-eat us, out-curse us, beat us in an arm-wrestle, you name it.” Finished chewing by this point, Lela tried to deflect jokingly,

“My dream: to win over any old military man who’ll have me!”

“What’s wrong with military men?” her Dad asked more seriously.

“Nothing, Daddy, but you were only in for 6 years. You’ve been a scientist for the last 26. I just think I’d find someone more my speed in my own field.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Gabriel added, grinning from ear to ear, and Lela plopped her cucumber, which neither of them liked, onto his plate with a gallant gesture of her wrist.

“Regardless of what he’s doing, I just think James Matthews was always the nicest young man,” their mother prodded. “Have you spoken to him lately?”

“We email some,” Lela kept her answer short as she grew tired of this line of questioning.

“So, I heard you have a big project launching tomorrow,” Gretchen changed the subject. Lela was grateful for the save, but surprised at her rescuer. She’d take it, though, and gave Gretchen a brief look of almost-sisterly acceptance.

“Yes!” Lela launched, figuring if she grabbed the topic enthusiastically, maybe the transfer of focus would be complete. She gave extra detail, to prompt questions in this direction, “We are launching an African relief project in conjunction with the governments of the African nations to arrange corporate sponsorship of provinces, to build schools, roads and bridges, improve drinking water, and make sure each area can build jobs around their natural resources or skills of the region. Our government has offered steep tax cuts for the corporations willing to do this, so it’s really a win-win situation for everyone. The project accountability council makes sure that the dollars go directly to improvements in each region, and by limiting each corporation to one region, we ensure no monopolies or hoarding of resources result,” she summarized.

“I think it’s all about greed and air space,” Mr. Aquila added.

“Dad, why would you offer to help with the project if that’s what you think?” Lela prodded in a concerned tone.

“Because we need the air space?” he replied, half jokingly. “Look, I’m not for corporate greed, and I wouldn’t have agreed to work on the project if you didn’t put the oversight measures into place, but at the end of the day there’s a lot of good to come out of this and I really am proud of your work on it.”

“Speaking of the project, I have a couple things I need to show you quick before tomorrow, L,” Gabriel said to his sister.

“Sure,” she said, sliding her chair away from the table.

“Oh, don’t think you two are running off to hunker in that laboratory for hours without cleaning up first!” Mrs. Aquila reprimanded, “And you’re limited to a half hour tonight. We still have dessert.” Wordlessly, everyone under the age of 50 began cleaning up as Mr. and Mrs. Aquila retired to the music room for a post-dinner date with the piano. As Lela wiped the table, she glanced at her brother and Gretchen at the sink. They clearly had a system for dish duty and it seemed to work well. Gabriel absentmindedly touched the small of Gretchen’s back and continued drying. Lela realized at that moment that his brother must really love this virtual stranger and considered how different his life would be from his bachelor days. Her cell phone rang and “SEC” appeared on the display in an array of pale blue illumination.

“I’ve gotta take this,” she reported as she swept into the anteroom and shut the door.

BOOK: The Cupel Recruits
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