Annie entered her one-bedroom apartment, dropped her stuff on the table and booted up her computer. Like having another office, this was her usual routine; checking for assignments from the Agency, keeping herself busy until she was so tired sleep was unavoidable. Her footsteps across the floor reverberated in the emptiness of the room so she took off her shoes and tossed them aside.
Her apartment was clean and simple, decorated in colors of beige. Anyone visiting could see it was nothing more than functional. She’d been waiting for Michael to move in before doing anything drastic. And now, how could she pick out a bedspread for an empty bed? Michael had been her world. But in an instant they were torn apart, and he was gone. She didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.
Annie brought her laptop to the kitchen counter and searched for a snack. Meals for one were not easy, so the food supply at home was minimal. Leftover take-out would have to do as it did many other nights. She eyed the wine bottle sitting on the counter and wondered how long ago she’d opened it. Three days ago was a guess, good enough for her. She poured a full glass and nuked some chicken pasta before sitting on a stool.
She navigated to her email and clicked a message that read “Successful Singles” in the subject line. She sipped her favorite pinot noir, savoring its silkiness as it slid down her throat, welcoming the slow drag it brought to her body.
A door slam shook her apartment and took her attention from the email. Her neighbors were at it again. At least once a week, Annie heard doors slamming, shouting, the occasional breakable item crashing to the floor. Several times, she had been close to going over there and handling the situation, but decided to stay clear of any more drama if that was even possible.
Annie shook her head, turned her attention back to the screen. She opened the email and continued to read: Meet your perfect match tonight. Club Cougar is the place to be. She then navigated to a chat room and began exchanging messages with screen name Ted.
I thought we had plans? read Ted’s first message.
I was there. Annie knew the way she handled Frank Tappa would be frowned upon, but she wasn’t about to apologize for her actions. The important thing was that she’d pulled it off.
That’s obvious, but it was supposed to be a bit more intimate. That was quite a show you put on.
Maybe it was the wine, but she didn’t care if she was pushing the limits. One of my better performances. Maybe they’d see that she wasn’t to be controlled. That they needed to hold up their end of the bargain. She knew she had some leeway with Ted and she would take advantage of that. He had recruited her, trained her, and been her liaison ever since.
Any plans tonight? Ted replied.
She paused wondering why Ted didn’t pursue the matter. No, But I'm not feeling well. I need to stay home and rest. Bye. Annie clicked off just before seeing the beginning of Ted’s reply But I…Then she tilted back the rest of her drink.
Ted would have convinced her to do an assignment. But she just didn't have the strength she would need for another night like the last one. She regarded her half-eaten and now cold bowl of leftovers seeking comfort. Yes, she’d made a commitment. And it was her decision to join the Agency. The money they paid her for the assignments didn’t mean a damn thing. They knew that. It was the promise of finding Michael’s killer that fueled her to continue. And she would, until Michael’s murder was solved. But what then? Would she simply walk away from them? Move on with her life like a normal person? If that were the case why did she find herself roaming the streets looking for trouble?
Annie picked up her cell phone, thought for a second, and turned it off. She wished she could do the same with her brain. One more glass would help, so she grabbed the wine bottle, abandoned her poor excuse for dinner, and headed to the couch. I need to be in charge. She said it over and over, but trying to control her life was like trying to collect bees with a handkerchief.
She hadn’t let them talk her into tonight, but what if the Agency tried to convince her to continue on after Michael’s case is solved? There were times when Annie got the unnerving feeling that she was a pawn in someone’s game. Had they really made progress on the case? Exacting justice had played out in her head so many times it felt more like a memory than a plan. But would they ever give her that chance, or was she making a grave mistake?
***
Ted McKnight sat at a desk in an office outside Detroit, running through photos on his computer. The setting sun caught his attention, ducking intermittently behind the roaming dark clouds out his window. Rain was a pain in the ass, but the thought of a rousing thunder storm brought a thoughtful smile to his lips. He tilted his head to get a better view of the horizon and tried to remember what the weather report had said. He shook off thoughts of an impending storm, what memories it brought, and turned back to his computer.
A bright green tennis ball rested in the palm of his left hand. He bounced it low, against the desk, every few minutes. With his right hand, he clicked through each photo, stopping for a few seconds on some shots of Annie and Frank Tappa at the bar. She’d lost control of the situation, but she had pulled it off. She had great instincts, an incredible amount of fight. They were lucky to have her.
Ted molded the ball in his hand as he thought about when he’d first brought Annie into the Agency. He’d thought it would be a huge coup for him. A way to show Gordon how dedicated he was to the job. Gordon had been out of the country and had left Ted to handle things. The timing was right so Ted made a move. His discussion with Philip Gordon after his return hadn’t produced the reaction Ted had hoped for. Gordon, the head of the agency, was a speak softly carry a giant stick kind of guy. And, Ted had been on board with his greater good ideology from the start. Gordon had been discouraged about not having a female operative, and the fact that their biggest target, Charles Bushman, had one weakness: women. Acquiring Annie solved both issues. But maybe Gordon felt Ted had gone too far. Taken too much liberty. Whatever the case, Annie’s every move was putting Ted’s ass on the line. If she screwed up, Ted screwed up.
He let out a deep breath, set the ball down, and continued to scroll through the images. He stopped at some older photos of Annie in her police uniform. Young, beautiful, and full of dreams. It’s unfortunate how tragedy can change a person.
He sat back in his chair thoughtfully. Then with slight hesitation, Ted pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number. “It’s not happening tonight…. I mean, she’s not doing it…. I know she’s walking a thin line here, but she’s got what it takes. Yeah, if we don’t lose her…. I’m saying we need to come through for her, give her what she wants. Be patient, trust me…. You can’t deny what an asset she’s been up to this point…. Let’s see how she handles Bushman…. I’ll take care of it.”
Ted hung up and turned his attention back to his computer, this time scrolling through video clips. One particular clip caught his eye, and he clicked play. As he watched under the dim light of his office, he became lost inside his own memories.
On the screen, Ted and Annie were in a large empty room, with nothing but scattered mats covering wood flooring. The vaulted ceilings and concrete walls portrayed a cold environment, but she was dripping in sweat. Ted was training her, aggressively fighting her, akin to some type of military boot camp. Scrapes and bruises covered her face and neck, but they weren’t fresh. Ted had only a few inches on her in height but an obvious muscular advantage.
“Don’t back away from me!” he yelled.
Annie blinked away for a split second.
“And don’t look down, ever!” Ted circled around her, glaring at her from every angle. “You are in charge. You are running the show. You’re not a victim anymore. They are the victims now. You will do this! For yourself and for Michael!”
Annie sucked in new air, straightened like stiff iron. No fear could be found in those deep hazel eyes. Instead an intense, focused glare shot straight at Ted, originating from somewhere deep within her. Suddenly, Annie began to fight harder. He countered her attacks and backed away.
“Remember how you felt on that night. Remember the faces you saw. You need to see those faces in every opponent!”
With fierce determination, Annie proceeded to take Ted down. He looked up at her with a fresh gleam in his eye, and nodded in affirmation.
The video clip ended leaving Ted to stare at the blank screen. Cold silence filled the air. For a split second, he almost found himself reaching for the delete button. Just erase her from the system. But it was too late for that. Annie would continue in the Agency until the deal was complete. They needed her to assist with Bushman and they needed to deliver Michael’s killer. But he still couldn’t shake a feeling of uneasiness as he thought of Annie’s involvement in the Agency. Why was he beginning to doubt his decision to bring her in? Was it because she was becoming unpredictable—wavering, even? That could jeopardize everything the Agency had worked so hard to build. They were making a difference in the city. But he couldn’t put his finger on what he was feeling about her. Letting his emotions get in the way was not an option. He shook his head, grabbed ahold of the tennis ball. He paddled it against the desk, watching his hand work with great speed. No. It was stupid, and way too risky.