A PUPPET ON A STRING

CHAPTER 3

"I see... You've been very helpful Tomo... Thank you for your time."Suspiciously Tomo looks at the man in the dark suit.

How did he know his name? Recalling he could have over heard Frank talking.

"I didn't catch your name", Tomo asks curiously.

"Smith... John Smith." Smith looks at Tomo as to suggest no further questions were warranted A moment of silence ensued as Tomo registered the name.

He had been paid well for the scant information he had volunteered already.

"Anything else you need to know, you know where to find me." Saids Tomo returning to the glass he was polishing.

"Best our conversation remains between us Thomas." Smith advises with cold eyes looking at Tomo's.

"Of course..." Replies Tomo hesitantly. "My lips are sealed."

Smith returns to his table and pulls a tablet from his brief case. Booting it to life,waits for it to configure itself to a private encrypted network. Tapping in Frank's details, scans the search results and discovers several Frank Drakes in the Seattle region.

Narrowing his search down to accountants, two remain. Drilling into each, he views the driver's license photos.

"Got you!" Smith whispers under his breath.Smith drills further down. Social Security number. Police records,convictions none. Tax records, an amount owing. Employment record, Company Accountant, laid off 28 October 2017. Restructuring.

Five months ago. Explains the drinking thought Smith. Bank records. Two accounts. One held two thousand, the other with five and half. The remainder of his redundancy. That will go soon enough. Assuming Smith did not clear it out for him before then.Then searches for an address. And discovers an apartment on the east side of town in Frank's name.

Not far from the bar.Cross referencing Marilyn's name with the address. But nothing appears.Possibly an illegal immigrant. They tend to stay off the radar. Then runs a search on Frank's phone number and a list of calls made. Several calls to Mexico. The name Mendez appear. Marilyn Mendez he registered the name. No visas, Green Card.

Or Social Security Number appeared for her. As he expected.Killing the encrypted link and the tablet goes dead. And returns it to the briefcase. Smith was methodical. In his business, it was the difference between life and death. Having assessed Frank as a man of principle. And that his circumstances would make him vulnerable. A perfect recruit prospect.

Whether he was willing or not, was another question. He would allow Frank another month before approaching him again. What leverage could he find out about his Marilyn? Nothing was really beyond Smith's tentacles.Smith sips on the Marlborough red wine. And continued to read of the growing political scandal developing in Washington.

Mister Black was expecting his presence back there tomorrow to deal with the scandal. A red eye flight was scheduled for the next morning. Smith decided to finish up and leave. Tomo looks up to see Smith leaving without responding.Waving down the first available cab."Hilton, Sixth Avenue," Smith calls out and settles into the rear seat of the yellow cab.

Wind buffers the vehicle and rain lashes the windscreen. Indifferent to the weather outside, Smith contemplates his next move. His work in Seattle was near completion. He would be back in a month's time to make Frank an offer he could not refuse. He could monitor Frank's activities from Washington.Employment opportunities between now and then could be stifled at the touch of his tablet.

Tweaking his credit rating and police records with misdemeanors would discourage companies. Entangling Frank in the agency's net being drawn around him.Smith would be there to save him.Arriving at the Hotel the doorman taps his hat to acknowledge Smith.

A regular guest at the Hotel. The brilliant lighting of the foyers contested the darkness of the shrouded streets outside. Heading instinctively for the elevator, and waits. An elevator dings. Doors open and he presses the top floor. Few stayed at this level.His solitary life devoid of female company. Personal relationships had passed him by like a ship in the night. Clinical. Regimented. Devoid of any emotion and feeling. The Agency was no more but an extension of his personality.Believing that the security of the nation depended on him. Having been transferred and promoted between security agencies before culminating in his current role. Recruitment and assassinations. The agency he worked for did not exist officially on paper.

And he answered to one person, and one person only.Mister Black.If Smith was invisible, then Black was a ghost. With unlimited access to funds and undetectable access to government databases. Homeland Security,NSA, DOD, FBI, CIA, and IRS. And countless banking systems. Nothing was beyond the Smith's reach. Interference, or manipulation.Calling room service, orders a meal to his room. And he turns on the television on in time to catch the unfolding scandal in Washington.

A Senator had been caught with his pants down. Literally. Unfortunately with a high class Escort. Images show Senator Luxon embracing his wife. Playing happy families.Denying all false improprieties being alleged about him. Smith's skin crawled. It was not the first time the Senator had digressed from being the faithful husband.But was the first time he had been publicly caught. Smith knew the private lives of most Senators and Congressmen. And what went on behind closed hotel doors. It was his job to know. The incident could not be sweep under the carpet as had his previous affairs.

It was time Luxon was eliminated from the public equation.Smith hears a knock at the door and kills the television. A Waiter enters pushing a trolley before him. A polished silver cloche covers his meal. A bottle of vintage red wine and glass sit nearby."Will that be all Sir?" The Waiter asks."That will be all thank you" Smith advises.

"Very good Sir." The waiter who leaves without being tipped.Smith lifts the cloche and examines the meal. And pours himself a glass of the dark Pin ot Noir before taking a place at the dining table.Smith feels a sensation in his pocket. There could only be one caller.

Mister Black."Sir." Smith answers.

"Everything in order?" Black asks coldly.

"Everything's in place... Drake will be on board soon." Smith advises.

"Very good... And the Senator?""I have an Asset on route."

"Very well... Make it clean. I don't want it any loose ends."

"Of course Sir... Thank you Sir."

"Thank you Smith." Black ends the call.On hearing the disconnection, stares at the mobile's screen. Mesmerized by the colorful digital icons. Black's authoritative voice reminded Smith of his father's, which he dared not question.

Smith's mind switches to Frank as a potential recruit. He fitted the profile.Money greased the squeakiest wheels and displaced the most obstinate of morals. Everyone had their price. Smith had the resources to answer all of Frank's prayers. The IRS vultures were circling. Deporting Marilyn was another persuasive measure. Men would do almost anything for love. Senator Luxon would soon be dying proof of that.Smith now turned his immediate attention to the meal before him. Very nice he thought, deferring the Senator's imminent death until after dessert.