8 Chapter 8

"You going somewhere tonight? ... Maybe your other girl-friend?" Marilyn asks seeing Frank grooming himself in the mirror and looking dapper.

"No... Gave her the night off... Thought we would go out for dinner and celebrate." Said Frank, with a smile growing on his face.

"Celebrate? ... You get a job?" Marilyn's eyes light up to as big as saucers with a smile growing wider.

"Something like that... You know you look so beautiful when you smile."

"You say I look ugly when I don't?" A Mexican pout forming on her face.

"No... I did not mean that?" Frank tried to back himself out of a corner he was being pushed into

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world to me Marilyn."Going over to her and wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead.

"So you get a job?" She asks looking up at him with puppy dog eyes.

"Yes... I think I have a job."

"Think? You don't know?" Marilyn's face contorts to a puzzle look.

"It's mine if I want it they said."

"So you said yes... No?"

"I have a week to decide... But yes... I want it."

"Oh you Americans so strange."

"Go put on that red dress I like so much. I'll fix you a wine." And headed to the kitchen in search of a wine bottle.Sometime later Marilyn reappears looking a million dollars. And then some. The red dress accentuating her petite frame and curves. Cruelty on the eyes for other men to see, but to Frank she was sheer beauty on heels. The thought of herhusband never entered his mind once the whole evening.

Finding a little Italian place that served his favorite dish, chicken fettuccine. It was his night to celebrate.Arriving home in the early hours of the morning they fell into bed and made love. Excising the demons of the past seven plus months. The moon shone through the open curtains illuminating Marilyn's perfect body.

A small faint scar ran across part of her lower belly from an old operation she had told him. He had not question it further. Happy she had survived and that she was with him. In some way it completed her. We all have imperfections. Even God. This was Marilyn's.The moon light lingered over them. Until it too surrendered to the two lovers exhausted passions. Falling asleep in each other's arms. Tomorrow was another day. Something Frank now welcomed.At first light he awoke and made breakfast for Marilyn. And decided today he would go for a jog. Something he had lost interest in seven months earlier. Since then he had no purpose. But today he did. New life flowed through his middle aged veins. There was a spring in his step again. And began to see the beauty in the things that surrounded him.

Long since buried under bitterness and despair of his redundancy. And his ex-wife's anger.A week was a long time to wait. But Frank wanted to be ready for when Smith returned. Sorting through his wardrobe, identifying shirts and suits and shoes. The dust that had gathered surprised him. Washing and dry cleaning.Polishing black shoes. Frank behaved like a man possessed. He still found the time to visit Jefferson's and have a few drinks. Staying long enough to be home in time for Marilyn.

Tomo had sensed a change of routine. Takings were down.Frank's mobile had been silent for months. And he wondered if it was broken.Then one week to the day that he had spoken with Smith, his mobile rang."Private Number." The screen displayed.Unsure whether to answer it in fear it was the IRS. Taking a deep breath he answered it.

"Frank Drake speaking."

"Hello Frank... Smith speaking." Answered Smith sharply.

"Mister Smith Sir... It's good to hear from you." Frank trod carefully hoping his proposal was still on the table.

"Have you decided my offer?" Smith asks.

"I have and I would like to accept it... If it's still on the table... But I am still unsure what you want me to do?" Frank throws out the question hoping to get some lead on his role with the Agency.

"Let's meet up this afternoon? Why don't you pick me up from the bar at say two, and you can take me for a drive.That's fine by me."

"I'll see you outside the bar at two."

"Thank you Sir... I'll see you then." Frank killed the call.With a few hours to kill and he flicked on the television. Casablanca was playing. Black and white, cloak and dagger. Very much like Smith he thought.The movie aroused questions in Frank's mind.

Who was Smith? Who did answer to? What was with the gun? What was the Agency? What was required of him?Had he celebrated too early? He was about to find out.Pulling the sleek cherry red '56 Buick alongside the curb. Silver gills lined its side. Smith stood out on the sidewalk. Brief case in hand and dressed as he always had. A dark suit with a dark hat. Large black sunglasses completed the disguise. If he was trying to look inconspicuous, it was not working. Reminding Frank of Men-In-Black.

He dismissed the thought as quickly as it was conceived. Smith did not look like the alien chasing type.The Buick's rumbling purr softens as Frank allows the engine to idle. Smith opens the passenger door and climbs into the large metallic beast. Examining its interior and the smell of the leather seats.

"Frank." Smith jabs.

"Mister Smith." Frank counter jabs.

"Thought we might take a drive down to the waterfront... It's quiet down there... We can talk in peace." Smith instructed.

"Very well." Frank throws the Buick into drive and pulls smoothly away from the bar.Knowing Seattle well enough to know where Smith was talking about. A twenty minute drive and Smith was in no rush to speak. The silence was deafening. Frank turns the radio on, hoping it was okay by him. Music filled the void that Smith created.

"You've had this vehicle a long time... Before your marriage broke up I Believe." Smith spoke with weighted words.

"That's right... You've done your homework..." Said Frank a little annoyed at Smith's intrusion into his personal life.Just how far down the rabbit-hole had he gone? He would have to assume he had gone all the way.

"I like to know these things... It helps form a profile of the individual..."Smith caught himself in time, or so he thought.

"Recruited a lot have you?" Questioned Frank, wondering just how many Smith had in his employment.

"A few... A wonderful vehicle... Only wish I had the time for a similar enjoyment." Defended Smith, and then defected Frank's questioning.

"They do take time and maintenance. But they are a thing of beauty...Almost there." Frank sees the waterfront ahead of him.

"Over there would be fine..." Smith indicates a place where they could park.Away from other vehicles and prying eyes. And prying ears. Frank eases the Buick up to the curb. Allowing the engine to quietly turn over as pressure gauges needles rocked within their dials. Killing the ignition, Frank pulls back on the lengthy hand break. Locking the heavy Buick in place.'Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click... Click.'The two men looked about. Both with differing views of the world. One saw the beauty and wonder of the bay. The other saw suspicion and mistrust at those walking by.

Moored fishing boats lined the wharf. Rhythmically bobbing up and down on the water. Devoid of any life. Other than seagulls that darted about fighting a piece of food one had found. Confident they were alone, Smith spoke.

"Thank you for your time Mister Drake."

"Please call me Frank." Frank asked hoping to keep it informal.

"There are some things in my organizations that cannot be said in public bars... If you know what I mean."

"I think I am starting to understand..." Coming to terms with the secrecy ofSmith's covert operation, "Just who do you work for?"

"A branch of National Security that is answerable to only the President..."Smith began to lie."With full authority, funding and resources... Operating independently from the other agencies, NSA, or Homeland Security."

"Does the Agency have a name?" Frank asks curiously."We operate by no name Frank... The fact we exit is sufficient enough... We are invisible..." Smith explains,

"I am invisible... You are invisible."

"Why me? ... Why choose me?" Frank begins to wonder how he fitted into Smith's clandestine Agency."Quite simple Frank... You are a man in need... As I am... Few people pay attention to an Accountant... It would be a perfect cover for you to move about."

"Cover? ...Move about?" Frank inquires  knowing Smith had said there would be travel.

"Yes... From place to place, now and again... Only for a few days at a time... Will that be a problem?"

"No. No... I don't think so." Wondering if Marilyn would understand his absence.

"I have arranged an errand for you next week... In Flint actually... You know the place?"

"Heard of the place... Been on the news... Water contamination, or something like that."

"That's right... I have already wired your account some money. The balance will be paid at completion of the assignment... These are your air tickets and hotel details." Smith opens his brief case and pulls an envelope and hands it to him.Frank eyes the concealed gun.

"What's with weapon?" Asks Frank curiously

."National Security remember Frank." Smith instills the cold nature of the industry.

"Right... No chance I would need one?" Frank inquires.

"No. You won't need one... Best you don't get caught with one in your possession. But if you ever do get arrested... For whatever reason... Know that I have the ability to cut through any red tape.

""How do I get hold of you?"

"You don't... I will know exactly where you are at any minute of the day."Indicting Frank's mobile.

"I will contact you?" Smith advises.

"What's happening in Flint I need to know about?"

"I will call you when you after you have settled in at the Hotel with further instructions... Understood?"

"Sort of." Frank reluctantly accepts Smith's instructions.None wiser other than he was going to Flint.

"Thank you for the ride... I will walk from here." Smith closes his briefcase and exists the Buick.Leaving Frank wondering what was installed in Flint.

"Not a word to anyone... Understood?"

"Understood." Frank confirms.Driving slowly away, leaving Smith alone on the sidewalk. Watching Smith disappears in the rear vision mirror. Frank heads back to the bar. He would check his bank account knowing Smith was clever enough to have the account number.How much was it and why would there need to be a second payment on completion? Completion of what he wondered?Frank felt the envelope Smith had given him. It was thick enough to contain tickets and a hotel reservation. Parking up outside the bar he shoves envelope into pocket and pulls himself from the Buick. Relieved now that the meeting was over, and his life could get back to normal for the day.